Bought By The Billionaire - BDSM 18 novel Chapter 67

A waiter guides us across the floor between dozens of large, circular tables, each with eight or ten diners. “This way, sir. And madam.”

Ahead of us, a broad, friendly face…

Thank God…

… turns toward us, then stands. “Richard! Beth!” Will beams, then gestures to the woman sitting next to him. “Beth, let me introduce you. My wife, Grace.”

She stands too, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. Next to her larger-than-life husband, Grace Stanton is diminutive. “Good to meet you at last, Mrs Haswell...” Virginia rolls through her words… “… I’ll admit, I’ve been looking forward to it.” She’s a lovely looking woman, with eyes of melted chocolate and skin of warm earth. With an air that says she's about the same age as her husband, she’s perhaps a little stout with her years. Nonetheless, she stands straight and tall, her skin is clear and smooth, and her face is alive.

“Please, it’s Beth. And I’ve been looking forward to it too. Richard’s told me a lot about you…”

Her face lights with laughter. “Has he now?” She pats the seat next to her. “Sit next to me, then we can get to know each other.” She turns to her husband. “Will, push up, then Beth and Richard can sit together.”

As I sit, “I saw you at the wedding,” I say, “but there were so many people…”

“Of course there were.” She touches my arm. “I noticed your side of the church was a bit thin in comparison. I’ll give long odds you would have liked a nice quiet little ceremony somewhere, rather than some great gala event with half the City Great and Good invited.”

“I hadn't really thought about it. Richard wanted his friends there. And he has so many of them.”

She doesn’t reply, instead looking to where my Master is shaking hands with another man standing across the table. “Jack, how are you?”

I recognise his face from the TV and the papers. The mayor. Jack Vandervoort. To his left sit another couple I don’t recognise at all, she rather matronly, he built on the same scale as Will, with a big, benign face.

To his right, a woman remains seated. Very beautiful, glossily blonde, immaculately dressed and made up, she could have dropped from the pages of Cosmo. “Richard, Jack said you would be here. And…” She looks toward me… “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

My Master’s smile strains. “Of course. My wife, Elizabeth. Elizabeth… Jack and Irene Vandervoort…”

Irene extends a hand, the nails long, manicured, varnished scarlet. Her eyes travel me, assessing. My dress. My shoes. They linger over the emerald teardrop. “How nice to meet you at last, Mrs Haswell.”

“Nice to meet you too, Mrs Vandervoort.” Standing once more, I take the hand, but don’t have the urge to hold on, releasing it quickly.

“It’s Irene.” She awards me a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “May I call you Elizabeth? We’ve all been dying of curiosity to meet the woman who finally steered Richard down the aisle.”

Steered?

My Master interrupts, his voice dry. “Elizabeth, what would you like to drink? And let me introduce you too, to…” He turns toward the fourth couple, but Irene interrupts, her gaze sliding past me to him.

“So, how did the two of you meet? Jack did say there was an age difference. And, from what he tells me, such different… standings… too.”

My mouths dries…

How do I answer?

I should have prepared for this…

But my Master speaks calmly, pressing a flute of champagne into my hand. “Elizabeth is working to qualify in Business Studies. As part of her training, she was serving an internship with my company…”

His words are smooth, smooth enough that I think he has considered this. Rehearsed it, even.

“… I'd noticed her, but to my shame, I took her, at first, to be just an unusually pretty face. However, when she helped uncover a major fraud, attempted embezzlement, in my company, I paid more attention.” His fingers lace around mine. “I came to realise Elizabeth is so much more than an unusually attractive woman.”

Eyes creased, he holds my gaze, lifting his chin in a subtle Don’t Worry gesture. The fingers squeeze. I squeeze back.

A voice from offside, Grace. “Love that dress, Beth. It’s gorgeous. And gorgeous on you too. Such a simple design, but so flattering. Where d’you buy it…?” She chuckles… “… If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t mind at all. I bought it for tonight, my first… um… outing with Richard. It came from Claire’s, just off the Centre. Not a lot of people know about it, but it’s a super little store. She designs them herself.”

“Really? You’ll have to show me where it is. Wouldn’t mind a look in there myself if that’s her standard.” Her gaze strays across the table. “What d’you say, Irene?”

The blonde sniffs. “Of course, yes. It’s a very pretty little frock, but Claire’s isn’t somewhere I shop myself. I do find her style too simple. Too…” She shrugs, wrinkling her nose… “… too unsophisticated.”

My jaw falls slack, but she continues, flapping a hand at me… “Oh, don’t misunderstand me, dear. I wouldn’t wear them myself, but I like unsophisticated clothes.” She sips at her wine. “Like unsophisticated people.” She meets my eyes, smiling slightly.

My champagne flute halts mid-air of its own accord. “I’m sorry?”

Next to Irene, her husband sucks at his teeth, stares into his wine glass, then helps himself from a bowl of nibbles.

My Master shifts beside me, eyes glinting. He’s opening his mouth to speak when another voice breaks in, the man from the fourth couple on the table, who I’ve not yet had chance to speak to.