Fire & Ice ~ The Drake Legacy: Book One (3 page)

“How old is he?” Lauren asked.
 

“Thirty six,” I said.
 

“And is he single?”
 

“I don’t know!” I said, wishing she’d just change the subject. “We’re not quite Facebook friends just yet!”

It sounds so stupid, I know, but when Lauren said that, the thought of Xander Drake being taken I actually caused a little pang of jealousy somewhere deep inside me. As if someone like me — Cassie Lawrence from Nowheresville USA — had half a chance with a property tycoon like him! No, I had to be realistic about this, and stop my silly fantasizing. I had got a new job — great! — but that was all it was: an opportunity to wipe out some of my student debts. There was nothing more to it than that.
 

“Come on, let’s change the subject,” I pleaded.
 

“Okay,” said Lauren. “So apart from this
Xander
Whatever-his-name-is, do you have any other prospective boyfriends on the horizon?”
 

“You know I don’t,” I mumbled quietly, picking up my drink and taking a big swig to hide my face for a moment.
 

Lauren was always so much better at relationship stuff than me. She always seemed to have a guy or two on the go. Right now it was a computer programmer called Chad, who she said she had little in common with, but who was ‘surprisingly good’ in bed. And before that, It had been a slick-Rick salesman called Tony who she had confided had a ‘beautiful penis’, but ‘not much going on upstairs’. She was always so frank about sex, about her love-life, about everything. It was a quality I admired, but also one that had caused me countless blushes and squirms.
 

“We need to find you a man,” she said, her eyes searching around the bar, full of impish glee.
 

If only I had half of Lauren’s confidence,
I thought to myself.
 

“I’m fine,” I said.
 

“How many times have I heard you say that, Cassie?” Lauren said, raising a perfectly-plucked eyebrow at me across the little table. “You’ve been single ever since I first met you. I’m starting to worry that you’ll become one of those lonely old spinsters or something, surrounded by hundreds of cats and empty take out boxes. You’re a pretty girl. You should have men falling over after you.”

I knew she was right.
 

And the truth was, apart from maybe not having the best taste in clothes and maybe not the greatest self-esteem, I didn’t know
what
exactly I was doing so wrong. Sure, I’d had the odd casual boyfriend here and there during college, but nothing that had lasted more than a few weeks or months. Nothing that had really mattered. I was still to fall in love.
 

“I’m fine,” I said again, firmly, wanting desperately to change the subject.
 

“Whatever you say,” Lauren said, visibly unconvinced.
 

I picked up my cocktail and knocked the rest of it back in one go, shuddering a little from the sharp taste of the mixed spirits.
 

“I’m going home,” I announced, perhaps a little more cold and abrupt than I’d intended it.
 

“Cassie,” Lauren said, lifting herself out of her seat. “Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry …”

“It’s fine,” I lied. “I’m just tired. I’d better get some sleep. See you soon.”

§

I spent the rest of the weekend holed away in my apartment, getting ready for Monday. I followed along to my DVD aerobics program until I was flushed and sweaty, and I arranged and rearranged my few meagre combinations of skirts and blouses, wondering which would look the best for my first full day at the office.
 

And I decided to wear another thong too; just a tiny, a silky purple wisp of material; a naughty thrill running though my mind as I pictured Xander’s hot hands running up my thighs as I pressed myself against him, the two of us alone in his office, that beautiful glittering skyline behind us, and as he tugged my skirt up around my waist, his urgent fingers cupped my bare buttocks and then slipped into the warm damp cleft between my butt cheeks, his fingertips lightly brushing against the soft silk of my panties, feeling the inviting warm wetness beneath, letting him know
just
how ready I already was for him …

Don’t get me wrong. I knew it was foolish to pick out my underwear in case, by some one-in-a-billion chance, he would see it, and as I tried out various different outfits, I again told myself to just give up on the idea that anything would ever happen between us.
 

It was just a silly little schoolgirl crush.
 

Lauren was absolutely right, I needed to find a guy. A
real
guy. Not some fantasy billionaire, who was so safe to dream about, knowing that nothing would ever actually happen between us.
 

And anyway, I told myself, Xander Drake is probably nothing like you’ve imagined him. He’s a real person, just like you, with all sorts of weird quirks and hang ups and problems of his own.
 

Oh, how true that turned out to be …

Chapter Five

§

Don’t Fall Down

That first morning, as Mr Drake gave me the full guided tour of the offices, I floated around as if in some sort of magical dream. I just couldn’t get over how ridiculously plush and stylish and slick everything and everyone was, and again I felt a sharp twinge of embarrassment, hoping that these sleek business types didn’t think I was some sort of impostor, some silly back-woods hick, tottering around on my ridiculous high heels.
 

“It’s a beautiful view,” I gasped, as Xander and I stood looking out from the large glass window at the sprawling cityscape below.
 

The sun shone and twinkled off the glass of the nearby office buildings, and Xander turned to me and smiled an impossibly perfect smile, flashing two rows of pure white, symmetrical teeth at me.
 

“It’s great, isn’t it?” he said. “This view is half the reason I built this building in the first place. Anyway, follow me, there’s lot’s more to see …”

He turned and led me off towards his office, and I followed dutifully behind him, my stomach fluttering a little as I registered again just how broad and strong his shoulders looked, and I pictured what his toned, tanned body must look like beneath his clothing.
 

Stop it, Cassie, I told myself. This isn’t the time to start thinking your naughty thoughts again …

§

Once I was in Xander’s office, I took a seat facing him, as he outlined the rest of my duties.
 

There was so much to remember, and I nodded and smiled and hoped that my face didn’t betray my inner panic and confusion as he went over the many different tasks he expected me to do.
 

I was to open any important-looking emails; I was to keep track of his appointments and lunch meetings using a special calendar document; I was to check in twice a day, once at eleven and once at three, to see if he had any specific extra tasks or errands he needed running; and I was to receive and forward any internal phone calls using the special phone system at my desk.
 

I nodded and smiled, wondering if perhaps I should have written all this down.
 

“Don’t worry,” he said, smiling again, my panic obviously showing on my face despite my best efforts to conceal it. “You’ll get the hang of it in no time, Cassie.”

Hearing him say my name in his rich, deep voice, I felt some thing melt inside me.
 

§

As my first day progressed, I slowly became acclimatized to my new surroundings. I spent the rest of the day at the little desk and computer that was stationed just outside Xander’s office, trying to get to grips with the shared calendar document which outlined all his many engagements for the rest of the year.
 

I looked over the large document in awe, registering the names of a dozen or more high-class restaurants, places I’d only ever read about in newspaper food reviews, and that was just for this month alone! As I clicked on and on through the rest of the year, Xander’s hectic, jet-setting lifestyle really began to sink in. He had meetings booked in Amsterdam, Helsinki, Tokyo, London, New Zealand, and — just like his restaurant bookings — the hotels he had chosen were always five-star.

Occasionally, the phone at my desk would ring and I would pick it up and answer it exactly as instructed, “Hello, Mr Drake’s office, how may I help you?” and each time I spoke his name, I felt a delicious, illicit thrill. I found myself playing up my half-English accent a little more than in my everyday speech, too, wondering if
this
perhaps was the reason I’d got the job — to add a sophisticated, international air to his company communications?
 

§

That lunchtime, I knocked on the heavy, dark wood door to his office and waited until he called, “Come in,” in his beautiful, sonorous voice.

I stepped into the room, finding him standing over by the window, looking out solemnly at the city, sprawling below him.
 

“I’m just reminding you that you have a lunch meeting booked for one-thirty, at Corbieres, Mr Drake” I said, again playing up the Englishness in my voice, hoping he liked that part of me and perhaps found it exotic.
 

“Thanks, Cassie,” he said, turning and smiling back at me. “Oh hey, tell me, do I have anything booked in for lunch tomorrow yet?”
 

That very moment before stepping into his office, I had only just been looking at his bookings for that week, and so I felt a rush of pride as I was able to answer him immediately.
 

“No, tomorrow is completely free for lunch, Mr Drake,” I said.
 

“Very good,” he said. “Would you like to join me?”
 

I felt a hot flush rising to my cheeks and my stomach flipped over on itself. What the hell? Had he really just
said that
?
 

My eyes met his and he was looking at me expectantly, the mysterious hint of a smile playing across his full lips.
 

“Well?” he said, now returning to his serious, businesslike demeanor of before.

“Sure,” I mumbled. “I mean, yes, that would be great. Thanks. Thank you.”

“Good, good … There’s something I’d like to talk to you about, you see, away from the office. But anyway, I guess I’d better be off.”

He looked down at his large silver Rolex watch then headed over to his desk, lifting his navy blazer off the back of his chair and pulling it on, the white cotton of his shirt stretching tight across his broad chest for a brief second, showing of the clear definition of his muscular torso. I smelled a hint of his cologne as he moved; a spicy intoxicating musk.
 

“See you later,” he said, heading out of the office, and as he passed me I breathed in the expensive spice of his aftershave once more, triggering another brief flutter of butterflies in my already churning stomach.
 

I closed the door to his office and turned back to my desk, sitting down and then opening a desk drawer to take out my homemade lunch, wrapped in wax paper: two sloppy PB&J sandwiches and a slightly bruised red apple.
 

As I took a bite of my sandwich, I looked again at the calendar: at that small, blank white box that represented the slot for tomorrow lunchtime, and wondered just where in the city Xander Drake might take me …
 

Chapter Six

§

Electric Images

“Holy shit!” Lauren exclaimed over the phone that evening, when I told her my news about tomorrow’s lunch date. “You’re going on a freaking
date
already?! You don’t waste time, do you?”
 

I couldn’t help but giggle like a schoolgirl.
 

“I’m sure it’s just business,” I said, trying to reign in my excitement a little. “He probably goes out for lunch with all his new staff …”

But secretly my head was swimming and swirling, each time I dared to let myself think about it.
 

“Listen,” I said, “I’d better go. I want to get an early night …”

“Sure, sure,” Lauren said, the mocking tone still there in her voice, and I quickly hung up on her before she could make any more suggestive comments.
 

I thought about it again, as seriously and objectively as I could.
 

It
was
just business … Wasn’t it?
 

I wandered over to the couch and flopped down onto it, glad to be out of those uncomfortable work clothes, my freshly-showered, naked flesh now just loosely swaddled by my favorite, snuggly old toweling dressing gown. I picked up my laptop and turned it on; it was still open at my very last search result: ‘Xander Drake’.
 

As I scrolled through the many images of him — often taken from photo coverage at gala fundraisers and benefits — I for some reason felt myself growing embarrassed, like he was right there in the room, watching me. It was as if I could feel his dark burning eyes piercing into me, as I scrolled past photo after photo of his face and body, touching the keys of my computer with one hand and letting the other slip, gently, beneath the folds of my gown. I let my fingers trace lightly over my large right breast, feeling the tingling bud of my nipple stiffen and flicker with a new electricity as I touched it, pinching and rolling it between my fingertips, closing my eyes and, just for a moment, imagining it was Xander’s hand that was touching me.
 

Next I traced down over the soft warm skin of my belly, my fingertips grazing through the short curls of my pubic hair and then further down, over my freshly-shaven pussy lips. I ran my fingers lightly across my tingling sex, feeling my warm juices beginning to slick my fingers, and as my stroking motions became more urgent, my clit began to throb and tingle and swell, as in my mind I imagined once again that it was Xander touching me, Xander kissing me, Xander spreading my legs apart and cupping my buttocks with his hot manly hands, lifting my throbbing, dripping sex right up to his tender mouth like a goblet, so that he could lap at my juices, tongue my clit, suck at my pussy and work me tenderly with his mouth until I came, hard, against his face …