Amelia's Awakening: Expect the Unexpected (Erotic Novella Series: Ultimate Control Book 2) Read online

  “You must be joking!” he exclaimed, incredulity pouring out of him.

  Lifting her eyes Amelia fixed him with a steely gaze, and in her clipped British accent she retorted,

  “Do I strike you as a woman with a sense of humor?”

  The room fell quiet. Poor Brad had no words, and as his face changed an unfortunate color of beet red I was almost expecting someone to appear to chip away the icicles that were now hanging in the very frosty air. It was Joe Golden, a man I referred to as the elder statesman, and one of the driving forces of the company, who came to the rescue.

  “Quite frankly we should strike that clause altogether,” he said stridently, his voice filled with authority.

  Amelia didn’t flinch.

  “That’s not going to happen!”

  Joe was smart enough not to be drawn into the battle, and making a point of looking at his watch he rose to feet.

  “It’s time to adjourn,” he proclaimed taking command of the room. “I have another meeting.”

  As we all began to get to our feet, and the room was filled with the sounds of chairs being moved, light chatter, and the clicking of briefcases, he did something that showed not just his moxie, but why he had built such a successful company.

  “Miss Campbell,” he said warmly, peering down at her over the glasses perched at the end of his nose.

  She looked up at him expectantly, but Joe purposefully waited until the room was quiet and everyone was paying attention.

  “I suggest you scrutinize that clause this evening. Seek out where there’s room for movement. If you want this deal to happen, you need to find it.”

  As he marched from the room I saw a light tinge of pink burn across Amelia’s cheeks. Though he’d begun with the warmth of a kindly gentleman, he’d finished sounding like a principal scolding a recalcitrant pupil. As much as I had enjoyed the short scene I wished it had been my moment, not Joe’s, but I didn’t have his decades of experience, nor his indomitable presence. I did though, file it away in my head. At some point in the future I’d pull it out, dust it off, and put it to use.

  Amelia, however, was a woman I wanted to know better, and whether an agreement was reached or the deal fell apart I was determined to make that happen.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Though most of the meetings with Amelia Campbell and her cohorts continued to be contentious I always looked forward to seeing her, and when our eyes would catch I was sure I could see a hint of a sparkle that was meant just for me. Of course most men think that when they’re drawn to a woman she’s drawn to them too. It’s just the way we’re wired, so I allowed myself some doubt.

  Once the deal was done I decided to wait about two weeks for the dust to settle before calling her. I chose a Tuesday afternoon thinking it would give her a day to recover from the weekend, and hopefully early enough in the week that she’d still be available for the following Saturday night. Though I knew she was still in New York I had no idea how long she’d be staying, but even if she was about to leave I still wanted to have dinner with her. When her secretary answer she asked for my name, and I was delighted that Amelia accepted my call.

  “Hello, James.”

  “Hello, Amelia. How are you?”

  “Very well, thank you, and you?”

  “Excellent. I’m calling to ask if you’d like to have dinner.”

  “Yes, thank you, I would.”

  I smiled. She hadn’t even hesitated. Mind you, she was one sharp lady and would have suspected why I was calling so was prepared for the invitation.

  “Great, are you free this Saturday by any chance?”

  “I am. Where should we meet?”

  “I’m an English gentleman, Amelia, or hadn’t you noticed?”

  “It was hard to miss.”

  I smiled again. I’d been right. That sparkle in her eye hadn’t been my imagination.

  “Then you know that means I pick you up. Are you still at The Four Seasons?”

  “Yes, for the moment.”

  “I’ll be there at seven-thirty if that’s convenient. We could have a cocktail before dinner at the TY. Have you eaten at Daniel’s?”

  “No, but I’ve been wanting to ever since I arrived. Can you get in?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’m suitably impressed. Thank you, James. I’ll see you on Saturday.”

  “Yes, you will,” I replied, then after a brief pause, I added, “Have a good rest of your week, and try to behave yourself.”

  There was a significant momentary pause before she mumbled a goodbye and ended the call; I had sensed a slight ‘something’. My comment had been a tester and I was fairly sure I’d touched a nerve. Outside of that, the short conversation had gone well, and I was pleased not just because she’d agreed to meet me for dinner, but I had felt her icy facade begin to melt. I called her again on Thursday to confirm that we would meet at TY, the hotel’s bar, at the appointed time.

  Not wanting to deal with taxis I booked a town car for the night, and it dropped me at the curb at precisely 7:25 p.m. Feeling as confident as one could meeting a woman like Amelia Campbell, I strode through the lobby and into the inviting space. It was busy, but I found a table and had just sat down when I spotted her walking in. The dark power suit had been replaced with a soft blue dress that floated around her body, her hair, which had always been tied in a bun at the back of her head, was flowing around her shoulders, and those very tall heels had been replaced with stylish pumps of normal height. She looked amazingly feminine, and she quite took my breath away.

  “Amelia, you look lovely,” I said warmly as she approached. “It’s good to see you dressed in something other than black.”

  “Thank you, James, and it’s nice to see you out of a pin-striped suit.”

  “Touché,” I said with a grin. “Please, sit down. What would you like to drink?”

  “Champagne cocktail, please.”

  Though the first few minutes of a date can be awkward, I was still surprised that the poise and confidence Amelia had shown in the boardroom was painfully missing. I thought we’d start by sharing stories of corporate intrigue, but as the night progressed I found myself struggling. I began to wonder if she found me completely boring, or if she was preoccupied with something far more important than yours truly. The amazing food and impeccable service helped, but by the end of the meal I’d reached the conclusion that Amelia simply didn’t like me.

  But then she dropped the bomb.

  I’d just paid the exorbitant bill when she leaned across the table and touched my arm.

  “James,” she said quietly. “Will you please take me back to your place?”

  I was truly astounded.

  “My place?” I repeated, wondering if perhaps I’d misheard or maybe even imagined it.

  “Do you mind?”

  Did I mind? The question threw me for a second time. Was she asking me to take her home and do the naughty? I couldn’t think of any other reason she wanted to come with me, but she hadn’t exactly oozed seductive sensuality across the table.

  “Um, Amelia, what exactly is it you’re asking?”

  “To see your place,” she replied as if it was painfully obvious and I was an idiot.

  “You mean…for coffee…or?”

  “James, I’ve only been in restaurants, offices, and the hotel since I arrived,” she sighed. “I need to sit down on a couch in someone’s home. Would you mind? Does that make sense?”

  It did! It made all the sense in the world. Perhaps she hadn’t been bored. Perhaps she was homesick, or maybe, just maybe, she was an unhappy soul.

  “I wouldn’t mind a bit,” I assured her. “I have some terrific Italian coffee, and I think I might even have some cheesecake left. I buy it at this incredible bakery close to where I live. It’s an indulgence of mine. Don’t tell anyone.”

  “I promise I’ll keep your secret, and thanks, I’d like that very much.”

  This was a good sign. She was beginning to open up, an
d though she remained reserved in the car as we drove through the busy streets, when we stopped outside my building and she peered out the window she was unable to hide her surprise.

  “No, I don’t go for the whole, modern high-rise with a doorman thing,” I explained as the driver opened the car door.

  “Really? Doesn’t that worry you? I mean, anyone can buzz and get in.”

  “When you see my place you’ll understand why I live here, and no, it doesn’t bother me at all.”

  I ushered her inside, took the elevator to the third floor, and when she walked into my apartment she literally stopped, stared, and nodded approvingly.

  “Yes, I do understand why you’re here. It’s not a square box. I love this place.”

  “Why don’t you relax? Please, make yourself at home. I’ll get the coffee going.”

  “Thanks,” she said softly, and slipping off her coat, laying it over a nearby chair, she moved slowly across to the sofa and sat down.

  When I returned with the tray and placed it on the table in front of her, she smiled up at me. It was the first genuine smile I’d see from her since we’d met in the conference room over a month before, and I could see she was sincerely grateful for the respite. We had coffee, the cheesecake, and talked about London. By the time she was getting ready to leave she’d become friendlier, and she even gave me a hesitant hug as I was about to escort her back downstairs to put her in the town car.

  “I had a lovely evening, James, and thank you for bringing me here.”

  “It was my pleasure. Are you sure you don’t want me to ride back with you? I don’t mind.”

  “I do know how to sit in the back seat of a car!”

  “Careful,” I grinned, and spontaneously deciding to poke my toe in the water I wagged my finger at her and added, “cheeky girls often find themselves over my knee.”

  She stared at me for a moment, that deer-in-headlights look I’ve seen a thousand times, then that gorgeous warm blush moved over her face and she let out a nervous giggle. It could almost have been described as a titter. I’d been right, she was that kind of woman, and while that was one question answered, there were many more waiting. She was brilliant, and very beautiful, but she’d been strangely removed most of the evening. Who was Amelia Campbell? Was she socially immature? Was she insecure? I had no idea but I wanted to find out.

  It was just two nights later that she arrived at my door.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The morning after Amelia’s startling nocturnal visit, the moment I returned to my office following the breakfast meeting, she was my first call. I was ready for anything. Expect the unexpected, I told myself as her secretary put me on hold. I’d met unpredictable women before, but not one of them could hold a candle to Amelia. Her talent for dropping bombs was unprecedented.

  “Hello, James.”

  “Hello, Amelia. How are you feeling this morning?”

  “Very well, and you?”

  “A bit tired.”

  “Why? Did you have a late night?”

  Coy? Was Amelia being coy? It seemed out of character, but she was an ongoing mystery, and at this point I had no idea what that character was.

  “More like an early morning wake-up call,” I joked, wondering if that would that garner a response.

  “International was it?” she asked innocently. “Those can be such a pain.”

  I paused. Maybe she wasn’t being coy. Maybe she just didn’t want to address what had happened on the phone. Perhaps her office door was open. There were any number of reasons for her refusal to respond.

  “Are you free for lunch?” I asked, trying to remember who I’d have to cancel in order to see her.

  “If it’s late, around one-thirty?”

  “That’s perfect, why don’t we meet at Luigi’s. It’s a short walk for both of us. Do you know it?”

  “Doesn’t everyone?”

  “I suppose they do. I’ll call and make reservations.”

  My days generally flew by, but it seemed forever before I was walking down the street, pushing my way through a chilly wind, a clear sign that fall was giving way to winter. Reaching the restaurant I pulled open the door and stepped into the welcoming warmth. It was a comfortable spot, and I was grateful that most of the lunchtime crowd had gone. I spied Amelia sitting in a booth at the far end of the dining room, and glancing at my watch I saw I was five minutes early. Was she as eager to discuss what had happened the night before as I was? I thought she might greet me with a kiss on the cheek, or a quick hug, but when I approached the table she just smiled.

  “Thanks again for the other evening.”

  “It was my pleasure. I’m glad you had a nice time,” I replied, wanting to add, and what about last night? Was getting your lovely backside spanked a nice time as well?

  “I did. Daniel’s was amazing, and being in your place was lovely, thank you. In spite of all the people here, New York can be a lonely place.”

  “You’re right,” I agreed, “and there’s a comfort in spending time with someone who hails from the same stomping grounds. Familiarity in a sea of strangeness.”

  “Well said, and yes there is. I must tell you, James, I always looked forward to what you had to say during those negotiations because I wanted to hear your voice. It was like a touch of home.”

  “I felt the same,” I replied, realizing it was true. “When are you going back to London, or do you plan on staying here a while?”

  “I thought I’d be going right back after our deal was done, but I’ve been asked to consult on a couple of other projects, and just to make things more confusing I have some interesting irons in the fire back home. I have to say things are definitely up in the air. I certainly don’t have the security of a silly-money deal like you do.”

  “How do you know about mine?”

  “I don’t,” she replied, “but you’re a Londoner, it’s written all over you. It would have to be a silly-money offer for you to give up the pubs and the rain and your weekends in the country.”

  Smart! She was so bloody smart.

  “This is all true,” I nodded, “though I didn’t have as many weekends in the country as I would have liked.”

  “I had the same complaint,” she remarked, a rare smile crossing her face, then pausing, she added, “I must tell you, it was so nice to be in your home. Thank you again for taking me there. I hope it wasn’t an inconvenience.”

  Again, Miss Campbell, what about at two-thirty this morning? Was it nice to be in my bed? And how is your bottom? A bit tender, or are you quick to recover from a spanking?

  “Not at all,” I assured her, then unexpectedly I heard myself say, “How would you feel about coming over for dinner tomorrow night? I’m not a great cook but I can whip something up that isn’t too terrible, or we could order in if you prefer.”

  I had surprised myself, but as she nodded her head in hearty agreement I was glad of it, and it somehow gave me the courage to bring up the extraordinarily large elephant sitting on the table.

  “Amelia, I have to ask,” I began, lowering my voice, “about last night…”

  “What about last night?”

  The innocence in her voice, and the confused look in her eyes, suggested she had no idea what I was talking about.

  “When you came over,” I pressed, “you know, wearing nothing but the coat?”

  A red flush crawled mercilessly over her face, and dropping her gaze she reached for her water glass. I was about to say something reassuring when the unwritten, irritating, universal restaurant law came into play; waiters must arrive at your table at the most inauspicious of times.

  “Have you had a chance to look at the menus?” the friendly male voice inquired. “Would you like a drink?”

  “Vanilla vodka, a shot,” Amelia said quickly, not looking up. “If you don’t have vanilla regular will do.”

  “I’ll have a beer, whatever’s on tap,” I said, worried about the unflappable woman sitting opposite me. She looked any
thing but.

  “Thank you, I’ll be right back,” the waiter said cheerily, and dropping his pad in his apron he strode away.

  “Amelia, it’s okay, really it’s okay,” I assured her. “It’s better than okay. It was great, honestly.”

  She still wasn’t looking at me, and her poise had completely fallen away. My natural inclination was to say something like, you don’t need to be embarrassed, it was a wonderful surprise, but I bit my tongue. My earlier suspicion that she didn’t remember her visit was gaining ground, but how was that possible?

  “Thank you for saying so,” she began, “but I…uh…”

  “Your drinks,” the waiter proclaimed as he arrived, continuing to follow the unwritten rule, “vanilla vodka, and a beer.”

  “Thanks, and we’re fine for now,” I declared, giving him a look that told him to leave and not come back. “I’ll wave when we’re ready.”

  As he hurried away, Amelia reached for her glass and downed the shot, then let out a heavy sigh.

  “You were interrupted. What was it you wanted to tell me?” I asked, hoping she’d raise her eyes so I could get a sense of what she was feeling. Was she just embarrassed, or scared, or did she really not remember? That would be weird, really weird.

  “Sometimes I can be a bit, uh, overly spontaneous.”

  “Overly spontaneous?” I repeated, raising my eyebrows. “Is there such a thing?”

  “I thought it could be something we could pretend didn’t happen.”

  “That won’t be easy,” I said warmly, trying to make her feel better. “When you asked me to spank you I was delighted, but how did you guess that was my thing? Was it the hint I dropped when I put you the car the other evening? Silly question, it must have been.”

  “Yes,” she nodded, finally raising her eyes, “but now I feel strange about it all.”

  “You mustn’t. I thought it was a fabulous surprise, one of the best I’ve ever had.”

  “Thanks,” she sighed, “and thanks for asking me to dinner at your place tomorrow. I, uh, might not be able to stay over though. I mean…”