Delightful Temptation Read online

  “Wow.” I shake my head, pinching my lips together. “Calysta’s heart-wrenching struggle and her courageous recovery is well talked about in our circle. No one can blame her for going into hiding for two years.”

  “You’re right. Luckily, she’s back and cancer-free. She wasn’t ready to sell those pieces before, but now she is. She showed us a portfolio and they are absolutely breathtaking. I can only imagine what they look like when you’re standing close to them. I don’t care how expensive your computer screen is—and God knows Apple kicks ass in that department—it will never do justice to the real thing.”

  “I absolutely agree. Are those pieces here in London?” I’m trying hard to contain my excitement, but it’s a challenge.

  Benjamin shakes his head. “They’re all sitting in her New York City warehouse just begging for the right buyers. We’ll have all sixteen at the gallery a few weeks before the July gala. These are more than pretty paintings. Personally, I think the emotional connection will be a big selling point.” Wow, I didn’t think Benjamin had it in him to go that deep.

  “I agree. It’s no longer just a piece of art, it’s the story of a journey—her struggle and her triumph.” This big reveal has my head churning. “At this rate, I’m going to have to hire another assistant.” I might be making light of things, but I’m dead serious.

  “I thought you just hired a couple of new ones. Are they not working out?” Benjamin enquires.

  “Before I answer your question, would you like another glass of wine?” I ask, tilting my empty glass towards me. My plan was go back to the office and brief my team on the seven artists Ashley brought on. After what Benjamin just shared, I’m going to have to take some time to really strategize how we move forward from here. This means there’s no rush for me to get back. Once I’m done with Benjamin, I’ll simply text my staff to let them know I won’t be there until later.

  “We’ve already polished off one bottle, Mr. Akuna, and it’s still midday. You live dangerously, Ethan.”

  I fold my arms and pull at my sleeve to check the time. “Considering it’s already a quarter to four, I’d hardly call it midday. It’s nearing cocktail hour here and happy hour just ended in New York,” I joke. “Not to mention I never said anything about ordering another bottle. We’ll keep it to a glass… or two.”

  “In that case, yes, let’s do another round.” Benjamin smiles.

  I lift my hand to catch our waiter Charles’ attention. Even though things have become quite busy since a large group of Japanese tourists swarmed through the front door, he still manages to notice me immediately. I mouth my order. He nods and before I know it, he’s dropping two more glasses of Mourvèdre in front of us. It does help that I’ve been here plenty of times in the past and my love of French bold reds is legendary among the wait staff.

  I take a few sips and exhale, satisfied. Benjamin does the same. “To answer your question, I’ve always had the best of luck with my assistants. I know so many people who have horrible stories about hired help, but I’m not one of them. That said, the two new girls I just hired set the bar really high. They may be fresh out of university, but they’re incredibly dedicated. Lorraine, who’s been with me for a few years now, is still a superstar and she continues to impress me every single day. I couldn’t ask for more… well, until a few minutes ago.” I smile. “Calysta Knight changes everything. Once I reveal to my clients they’ll be able to get their hands on one of her pieces, I doubt my small team will be able to manage. I have a sneaky feeling I’m going to have to charm Ashley into allowing me to steal Delilah right from under her nose so she can come work for me.” I chuckle. Although it would never normally cross my mind to have a boss-employee relationship, I’d definitely be willing to break my own rules for the sweet little Texan. I have no doubt she’d be well worth it.

  Damn, I can’t believe my plans went awry. Thinking of her makes me realize how much I failed. I was so certain that by now I’d have Delilah’s mobile number on speed dial in my phone, but things didn’t quite work out in my favor this afternoon. After our meeting, I intended to accost the curvy beauty as Benjamin and Ashley were getting their things together, but she was nowhere to be found. Greg—who I had the displeasure of speaking to again—informed me that she had accompanied Gemma to an off-site meeting. To say the timing was unfortunate is an understatement. If I weren’t leaving for a business trip tomorrow, I would have popped by to see her to make my intentions known. Alas, I’m going to have to wait until next week to see her again.

  “Delilah?” Benjamin cries out. I can’t tell if his expression is of surprise or disbelief.

  “Yes, the American who’s shadowing Gemma,” I add to make sure there’s no confusion.

  “Hmph. You can’t be serious,” he snaps.

  His reaction is interesting.

  Since we’re sitting side by side—neither of us bothered to move after Ashley’s abrupt departure—I place my right arm over the seat and turn my body to face him. “I absolutely am,” I affirm.

  “That’s ridiculous.” He grimaces as you would when milk goes sour.

  “Why do you say that?” I challenge.

  “It would be an utter waste of your time to bring her on board, Ethan.” He rolls his eyes as if I just told him we’re doing away with our monarchy. I beg to differ. I personally think it would be time very well spent.

  I doubt this would ever become a reality because Delilah came here under a set of particular circumstances, but Benjamin’s attitude irritates me so much, I decide to push his buttons a little more. “She might be a bit junior, but she’s extraordinarily sharp. I’m sure with a few weeks of training under her belt, she’ll be as proficient as the other members of my team.” I raise an eyebrow, still startled by how easily he puts Delilah down.

  Benjamin has been working at the gallery for a year and a half now and in that time I’ve come to know him very well. He’s not one to back out of a debate. He’d rather die than be wrong.

  He slides closer to me on the U-shape leather bench. I could distance myself, but I wait to see where this is going. “Why would you bother with someone with so little experience when I can be of much more help?” Are my ears deceiving me or did he coo his answer? And is he batting his eyelashes at me?

  Okay, I didn’t see that one coming. “You already have an established list of clients, you work with some of the most sought-after artists and from what Ashley tells me, you’ve sold an impressive number of pieces each and every single month without fail since she hired you. I doubt you’d want to leave all that behind,” I say before taking another sip of wine.

  “I might be persuaded to change camps.” It’s unlikely.

  “Benjamin, I do pay my employees well and I’m quite generous when it comes to sharing bonuses, but it’s nothing near the commissions from your sales,” I argue.

  “Well, let’s just say that sometimes in life it’s more than just about the money.” Bollocks. Benjamin is a self-confessed money whore. He makes no secret of how much he drops on his imported Italian shoes and the stylish suits he purchases from high-end retailer Harvey Nichols.

  What brought on this change of heart? “What do you mean?”

  “Perhaps if you and I were working closer together, it might be a great opportunity for us to get to know each other a little better… or a lot better,” he says, placing his hand on my thigh. Blimey. What the hell? That was exactly my plan for Delilah, not Benjamin. “From my experience, straight guys shamelessly boast about their conquests. When you’re gay, you tend to be more reserved and careful because you don’t know who’s going to judge you or, even worse, crucify you. I never talk about my conquests at the gallery, but Greg doesn’t seem to have any problem sharing. That guy gets more action than the most promiscuous gay guys I know. It’s ridiculous how he puts me to shame.” Benjamin chuckles.

  I have to admit I’ve also been taken aback by Greg’s gargantuan appetite for women. I don’t pretend to be a Buddhist monk, but unlik
e Greg, I do discriminate.

  “I’ve never heard you talk about anyone you’re seeing.” Benjamin inches closer. “I hope it means you swing my way.”

  Ah. I see now where this is going.

  His message couldn’t be clearer. I’ve been working in the artistic field since I was a teenager. It’s not the first time a man has come on to me.

  I tread carefully. After all, this guy sitting next to me works for one of my most important vendors. “So you think I’m gay?”

  Benjamin flashes me a sympathetic smile. “It’s okay, you can be honest with me. I was in the closet for a long time.” His eyes are pleading. I’ve never seen this softer side to him before. Too bad he’s barking up the wrong tree.

  “Well, I’m not,” I state firmly.

  With all the commotion around us, the hungry patrons are more focused on wolfing down their food than listening in on other people are talking about. The staff is busy serving everyone, which means their attention is elsewhere. The fact that we’re seated at a table that’s a little more secluded doesn’t hurt. In other words, no one is listening in on this over-the-top conversation.

  “Oh, thank God. So you’re not hiding.” Benjamin nearly bounces off the bench with excitement at his own false assumption.

  I open my mouth, ready to crush his hopes and dreams, but he moves his hand up my thigh. My jaw locks. It’s nowhere near my cock, but it’s still too close for comfort. I need to put an end to this. Now. There are a couple ways a straight man can approach this incredibly awkward situation. I decide to take the high road. “Benjamin, just because I choose to remain quiet about the people I see doesn’t mean I’m gay.”

  “You’re not?” He’s doing a poor job of concealing his disappointment.

  I shake my head. “I’m as straight as Greg is. It’s not in me to kiss and tell to anyone willing to listen.” I prefer to share those details with my best friend and a few other close mates. Being discreet about my conquests is a habit I was forced to adopt during the glory days of my former career.

  “Oh.” Benjamin pulls his lips down and looks as wounded as a child who just found out the Easter Bunny is only a fairytale. For a few hopeful minutes I think I’ve averted a catastrophe, but what comes out of his mouth nearly knocks me off my feet. And let’s not forget, I’m sitting down. “Maybe you’d like to experiment? You know…” His sentence may trail off, but the way he’s looking at me leaves no room for misinterpretation.

  I’m shocked by his boldness. Most gay guys usually drop it once they find out there’s no hope in hell we’ll end up together, but Benjamin is particularly persistent. It’s not like I haven’t spelt it out for him.

  “Benj—”

  He doesn’t allow me to refuse. “Ethan, there’s so much more I can offer than a woman ever could.” I doubt that. “I bet you have a very big cock.” You have no idea. “I’d love to suck you off. It’s my biggest fantasy.” Not a chance. “You don’t have to return the favor. It’s all about you. I’ve had these types of illicit hook-ups with a few straight guys. Not that I want to brag, but they all love it.” He leans in even closer. “I can promise you’ll come harder than you would with any woman.”

  You’re dead wrong there since I doubt I’ll be able to get it up, let alone come.

  It seems the more forward Benjamin becomes, the more the noise level in the restaurant rises. That’s a good thing considering how far this conservation is derailing. “Call me old-fashioned, but if you’re okay with another man sucking you off, then you’re hiding deep in the closet. It might work for some of your friends, but it’s not something I’d ever consider.” I grab his hand and move it away from my thigh before continuing. “I like women.” Especially when they look like Delilah. “A lot,” I add for extra measure. I hope he gets the message this time.

  Benjamin blinks a few times before speaking again. “Oh, so I don’t stand a chance?”

  Wow. It’s no wonder he’s the number one salesperson at the gallery. This guy is as stubborn as a mule. He foolishly thinks that if he asks me the same question in a different way, he’ll trick me into saying yes. That’s never going to happen.

  I shake my head again. “I’m afraid not.” It’s my turn to lean really close to him. “I’m sorry, mate. Unless you have a pussy and big tits, you’ll never get to see my cock, let alone have it in your mouth.” End of story.

  * * *

  You can imagine that after that uncomfortable heart-to-heart, there isn’t much to say between Benjamin and I. We sit there in silence for a few minutes, suddenly fascinated by the crowd of Japanese tourists, until he mumbles that he has to run back to the gallery to take care of this urgent thing he’s forgotten. Without looking at me in the eyes, he stumbles out of the booth and nearly sprints to the door. I’m grateful I don’t have to see him until next week. Hopefully by then he’ll have gotten over the embarrassment. I know it won’t take me long to put this behind me.

  When it comes time to settle the bill, Charles informs me that Ashley has already taken care of it. I top up the tip and make my way out. Normally, I’d hire a taxi to drive me back to the office to tie up loose ends before my business trip tomorrow. That said, after this painful conversation, I need to clear my head. Since it’s only four-thirty, I decide to walk.

  “The air is so cool for this time of the year,” I say to myself as I turn my lapel up in the hopes of sheltering my neck from the breeze. Although it’s the third week of June, you’d never know. I’m a born-and-bred Londoner and with each passing year, I’m more and more convinced summer is an elusive fantasy for us Brits. When you live in this part of the world and you’re surrounded by the North Sea, you’d be foolish to expect Ibiza weather, but still a little warmth wouldn’t hurt. I guess I shouldn’t complain too much. At least it’s not raining.

  I’ve already been combing the streets for half an hour when my phone rings as I pass in front of a park. I reach for my iPhone, but I’m not quick enough. Damn. Since I stopped in the middle of the pavement to pick up the call, I’m annoyingly in the way. I decide to head to the park to see who called. I’ve barely fetched my phone from the inside pocket of my jacket before it rings again. This time, I’m quick enough. I smile when I recognize my best friend’s number. The timing couldn’t be better.

  CHAPTER 5

  Xander

  Since my best friend and I have been missing each other all week, I decide to get up earlier—despite another night of wild, debauched partying and fucking in the City of Angels that ended at five o’clock—to connect with him. I’m flying back home in a few days and although there’s nothing quite like California, I do miss London and I miss hanging out with Ethan.

  I can’t believe I managed to get up considering my head didn’t hit the pillow before six this morning. In order to survive this day, I order room service and a double shot of espresso. I wolf down the deluxe continental breakfast in no time and wash it down with the coffee. It’s amazing how hungry I am. When I’m done, I realize that one cup of coffee won’t do. Not after last night. I order a second one, desperate for a jolt of energy. When the hotel staff comes to my door, I don’t even bother letting him in. I down the espresso coffee as he’s still standing at my door. Needless to say, his jaw drops.

  Thank God for caffeine. The second cup of dark goodness gets my engine running. Once satiated and half human again, I decide to call my best friend. I dial his number, but technology isn’t cooperating. “What happened?” I ask aloud when the call ends after only a few rings. “Strange. Oh, well, let me try again,” I mumble, ringing him up again. The second time is the charm because after seven days of mostly misses, I’m lucky enough to finally speak to Ethan. Honestly, other than my parents, he’s the only person for whom I’d be willing to roll out of bed after only two hours of sleep.

  “Ethan,” I cheer.

  “Xander!” His tone matches my enthusiasm.

  “How are you doing, mate?” I ask.

  “I’m good. And you?”


  “You know how hectic business trips are. I’ve been here for a week and I’m still jetlagged.” I chuckle.

  “Indeed I do. From your update, it seems things are going smashingly well for you.”

  I nod into the phone, even though I know he can’t see me because I’m a world away. “Ethan, this might be my best trip out here yet,” I say, excited.

  “You’ve worked really hard. You’ve certainly earned it, Xander.”

  “Thanks, mate.”

  Ethan and I are cut from the same cloth. Our fathers instilled in us values that we still hold close to our hearts today. When we take something on, we go all the way or we don’t bother at all. This driving force explains why we excel at our second careers. It was inconceivable for us to just sit back on our laurels and retire at the tender age of twenty even with the colossal fortune we amassed.

  “I can’t believe you left London a little over a week ago and this is the second time we actually speak to each other. It seems like it’s been much longer than that.”

  “I know. I feel the same. It’s been non-stop for me since I landed in California. The long days of back-to-back meetings definitely makes it feel like I’ve been out here for an eternity. That said, there are some phenomenal perks.”

  “You don’t say.” Ethan is already on to me.

  “Definitely. Cali is all business, but God is she ever pretty.” I laugh. I heard that line from a song blaring from the speakers of a classic Chevrolet Corvette Stingray that stopped at a red light a few days ago on my way to a recording studio and it stuck.

  “All business?” Ethan stresses.

  “Well, almost.”

  “So we’re really talking about all the pussy you’ve been fucking.”

  “Perhaps,” I quip.

  We laugh.

  “Lucky bastard. You get willing pussies and nearly fifteen hours a day of freaking sunshine.”