Continental Beginnings (3 page)

I’m feeling hungry, but it’s not food that I want. As Bella scurries around the office in preparation of a meeting, I’m hit with sinful inspiration. A light yet satisfying breakfast is what I have in mind. A
Bella
kind of breakfast.

“Ms. Darcy, I’m hungry for Continental Breakfast,” I call out to her through the open office door, laughing at my own personal joke.

Standing in the doorway with a notepad and pen, she asks, “What would you like me to order in for you?”

“Nothing at all.
You
are Continental Breakfast. Now get over here and spread those glorious legs wide for me.”

Bella smiles widely at my raunchy sense of humor and offers herself up without delay.

After my delicious breakfast de jour, I present Bella with her ruby ring and she gasps out. I quickly regret having given it to her for fear of how she’ll misinterpret its meaning.

“It’s for special occasions only, Ms. Darcy,” I state sternly in an attempt to make my lack of romantic intentions clear.

“Of course,” she states plainly without a hint of emotion.

Shit, maybe she isn’t into me after all. Perhaps this really is just a work relationship. Very well, that’s how it should be, so why the hell am I pouting about it?

She puts the ring back in the box and gets right back to work.

Several hours later and after the meeting, Ms. Darcy appears flustered and out of sorts. When I return to my office I log onto my computer and I’m horrified to find that I’ve missed out on a major acquisition that I’ve had my eye on for at least several months. How the hell did this happen? I know damned well I told Bella to notify me at once when it was presented to the shareholders.

“Ms. Darcy!” I bellow.

She comes into the office and looks dismayed at the tone of my voice and no doubt the severe look on my face.

“What the hell happened?”I snap. “I told you to notify me when DSG Manufacturing went to the shareholders.”

She fretfully starts flipping through a stack of paperwork in her hands, her eyes getting large when she’s faced with a small piece of paper.

“Oh, Mr. Pettifor - the message is right here. I was so busy I forgot to tell you. It was an honest mistake,” she whispers.

Motherfucker. Now what? “Your little
mistake
just cost me well over 78 million dollars,” I roar at her.

Pacing angrily around the office and cursing under my breath, I throw my hands up in the air in exasperation.

“I’ll fill out my resignation immediately, Sir,” she sniffs, sulking back to her desk.

What the fuck? Resignation? My heart drops to my stomach and I feel sick. I stand immobile knowing that’s exactly what she should do, but I can’t bear to think about it or accept
it. I can’t imagine my days without her.

After splashing my face with cold water, I go out to find her sitting at her desk hunched over and typing slowly with tears streaming down her face.

“Shoulders back, Ms. Darcy,” I order gently.

She summarily complies without hesitation but continues to type. I peek over her shoulder to see a half-written letter of resignation and apology.

“In my office, now,” I say, petting her hair.

I wait in my office for several minutes when she finally shows up with a piece of paper in her hand and her eyes dried.

“I accept full responsibility for what I did. There are no excuses,” she replies standing perfectly straight with her shoulders back and looking me square in the eyes as she holds the letter out to me.

Taking the piece of paper from her hand I tear it in two and drop it to the floor.

“You’re being a little over dramatic, don’t you think?” I ask her.

Seating myself on the chaise, I motion for her. “Insubordination in my house is not punished by such harshness as letting one go. Everyone makes mistakes, but it’s what we learn from them that makes us stronger. Now get over my knee, Ms. Darcy, you know the rules.”

Her eyes well up again, but she nods her acceptance of what must be done. Without another word spoken or my having to explain any further, she lifts her skirt up over her bottom, drops her panties and drapes her upper body over my knee in a perfect pose of capitulation.

I caress her bare bottom, rethinking my decision to punish her. This woman makes me feel things I’ve never felt before, and not once have I ever thought twice about doing what comes naturally to me. Placing my forearm over her upper back to secure her position and my leg over the back of her knees, I bring my hand down hard onto her ass without warning.

“I won’t tolerate disobedience, Ms. Darcy,” I say in more of an effort to convince myself than her.

Again I bring my hand down onto her other cheek swiftly, brightening her cheek to a fine shade of rose red. She whimpers, but not once does she falter or resist me.

Seventy eight million dollars
. What number of spanks is appropriate for that significant a loss? I have no idea and honestly, I don’t care. Oh, hell - I can’t think straight. I’ll never punish this docile creature out of anger and I need to make that very clear to her.

“I’m not angry with you, Ms. Darcy, and I wouldn’t be punishing you if I was. I’m disappointed.”

Before I have a chance to over think things, I paddle her four more times on each cheek, unable to go any further.

When I’m done, she stands and pulls her panties back up and attempts to retreat. Yanking her back to me, I hug her close and pull her into my lap while I whisper my forgiveness into her ear as she weeps her apology.

“I won’t ever disappoint you again, Mr. Pettifor,” she whimpers and I know without a doubt she’s truly remorseful for her actions.

The heartrending sound of her voice brings that unwanted feeling of affection back into the pit of my stomach.

Damn it to hell. I will not fall for this woman.

Chapter 5

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Pettifor,” Bella declares cheerfully, holding out a wrapped package for me.

“I told you not to get me anything,” I reply firmly, placing my hands on my hips.

She responds by smiling impishly and I can’t resist her childlike demeanor. It’s been so long since someone gave me a gift.

“I know it’s early, but I couldn’t wait any longer to give it to you,” she smiles, bouncing on her toes.

Unwrapping the gift, a small gold coin shines against the bright lights of the office. Not understanding its meaning, I look at her questioningly.

“It reminded me of you, Sir: Rare with two opposing sides, both of which are unique unto themselves and beautiful.”

I swallow hard and keep my eyes downcast, unsure of how to respond.

“I don’t know what to say,” I counter flatly, not wanting to reveal anything.

“A wise man once told me that a thank you is always appropriate in lieu of uncomfortable silence,” she says despondently.

Shit. I’ve ruined the moment. But she’s right, so I take my own advice.

“Thank you, Ms. Darcy. I actually have something for you as well.”

Her smile returns but then fades quickly when she opens the envelope I’ve handed her and she realizes its work related.

“It’s your yearly bonus. I believe you’ve earned every penny of it.”

Her face contorts and I realize my major fuck up.

“Ms. Darcy, I didn’t mean to insinuate that you’ve earned that in any way except by being hard working.  You’ve been an integral part of this business, both to me and my colleagues, that’s all I meant.”

She nods but I can see that I’ve upset her with my lack of giving her an appropriate Christmas gift. I hate seeing her distraught.

“Would you like to go to Tiffany’s and pick something out?” I ask, trying to make up for my lack of holiday spirit.

“If it pleases you,” she whispers.

“This isn’t about what pleases me right now. This is about you.”

She furrows her eyebrows at me and purses her lips.

“Facial expression, Ms. Darcy.”

She blinks long and hard and turns away from me to leave.

I stand in response to her defiance and make myself very clear. “Did I give you permission to leave?”

She stops but remains turned away from me.

“Face me, please.”

Slowly she turns towards me, but her normally passive eyes are burning fiercely and her breathing is ragged.

“Calm yourself,” I say low and harsh. “Remember what I told you about anger and how to deal with it.”

I’ve only seen her this angry twice before - the first time after a heated meeting between myself and a now ex-employee. I could be wrong, but what she appeared to exhibit at that time was a strong protective nature for me. I let that episode slide because I was so damned turned on, but after the second time she let her temper flare, we had a come to Jesus meeting about how to deal with her displeasure appropriately and in a professional manner. Now when she’s angry, she simply smiles, lowers her voice and states
Walla Walla, Washington.

I’m briefly lost in the memory of when a colleague tried to demean her during a meeting and the ferocious look in her eyes and the statement that followed.

“Walla Walla, Washington. Have you ever been?” she smiled, looking him squarely in the eyes.

The sheer absurdity and unexpectedness of the question took the man so completely by surprise, he didn’t know how to respond, but her brutally frigid look and her narrowed eyes showed her undeniable fury and disapproval with his treatment of her and there was no doubt in my mind, he knew to back the fuck off.

“There’s no need to remind me of your lessons, Mr. Pettifor. I’m not angry - I’m disappointed.”

I cringe at her words, distressed at the thought of letting her down. She sees my expression and suddenly looks apologetic.

“Please allow me to rephrase: I’m disappointed in myself for thinking...” she pouts without finishing her sentence. “May I be excused now?”

“There’s no need for disappointment. You haven’t done anything wrong…”
except for falling for me.
“You never answered my question about picking something out at Tiffany’s,” I remind her, wanting to prolong our time together before Christmas break.

“That won’t be necessary. Thank you for your generosity with my bonus,” she says coolly as she gathers her wits.

I’ve definitely trained her well. Already she’s started to exude the same cold and business-like attitude that I’ve practiced for so long. It both makes me proud and upsets me. She’s obviously still angry with me and I’m infuriated with myself for not being able to please her the way I know she wants.
I just can’t.
I’ve been hurt far too many times to count by professing my feelings when I should’ve just kept my over-emotional mouth shut.

Bella looks away from me and her coldness starts to piss me off. Before I can stop myself, I lunge towards her, crushing her with my arm around her waist and wrapping my other hand deep into her thick tresses. I smash my mouth onto hers, wanting my tender and passionate Bella to come forth but then stop myself.
God damn it, pull it together, Xander.
I will not fall for this woman! Confusion settles on her face as she breathes heavily from my too brief moment of zealousness.

Feeling as if I’m on the verge of losing all control, I force myself to speak, “I’ll see you in one weeks’ time. I’ll have clothes sent to your home for the New Year’s gala. Merry Christmas, Ms. Darcy.”

I’m hoping she’ll just bow her head courteously and leave without another word, but instead she pulls closer to me, teasing me.

“All I want for Christmas is this,” she breathes lustily into my half opened mouth as she grips my hardened cock.

Fuck no.
“What part of no touching don’t you understand?” I growl as I jerk away from her.

Bella’s face flushes bright red, and she stutters out the most depressing apology ever spoken from her flawless mouth and I instantly feel like the biggest douche bag to ever walk the face of the Earth.

“I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just... Oh, Mr. Pettifor…” she swallows hard, closes her eyes and inhales deeply. When she opens her eyes - frigid, unfeeling Bella is back.

“It won’t happen again. I promise,” she replies evenly.

I’m such a shithead - a serious motherfucking shithead. God damn me. I don’t want that kind of promise.

She leaves and the room suddenly becomes frosty and silent without her presence. A week without her touch or taste? Seven long days of not having those eyes watching me as if I’m the only man that exists in her world? Why didn’t I just give her what she asked for?

I slump in my office chair and take the coin out of the box to look it over closely. It really is a thoughtful gift. She knows me well. I’ve always had two opposing sides to my personality. I learned long ago that my sentimental and romantic sides are not something I’m eager to share with women. I’ve been taken advantage of, manipulated and made a fool of and I’ll be damned if I’ll ever allow another woman to do that to me.

The school has been good for me in that regard. It’s helped me to get my dominant side under control and suppress my easily pussy-whipped nature aside. Fuck, is that what Bella is doing to me? Of course not. I like to think I know her well enough to see her true character. She’s kind and benevolent, earnest and so heart achingly humble…

Enough of this bullshit. I don’t need a woman in my life telling me what I can and cannot do. I don’t need love, God damn it. What I need is to go to the school and join in a practicum to get Bella out of my head.

What time is it?
I scan the wall clock and realize I have just enough time to get to the last practicum of the year before holiday break.

When I pull into the parking lot twenty minutes later, I’m met by two other instructors who look surprised to see me.

“Glad you’re joining us, Xander. Are you here to play tonight?”

“Most definitely,” I respond as I lock my car.

Seating myself at the end of the long table and in my old spot, I feel at home. It’s been nearly a year since I sat here, facing trainees. The women from my lecture look surprised and excited to see me participating in tonight’s events. I, on the other hand, am uneasy about being here. Bella is still prevalent on my mind and my harsh words and actions towards her are eating away at me.