Werebeasties

David rose from his seat and pulled out a chair for her to sit. She settled in nervously. She glanced around as if she wanted to ask why they were the only people in the dining room.

“Adam has business to attend to tonight and Calvin will arrive tomorrow evening from LA,” he explained. “My name is David Strauss.” He stuck out his hand.

Sam shook it. Her palm was dainty and soft to touch.

His tiger became restless at their skin contact. Adam was right. This woman’s scent was irresistible. Like a tigress in heat. David ordered his inner beast to calm down and his cock to behave. He’d had an instant hard-on the moment he’d caught her scent.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr Strauss.”

“Likewise. Champagne?”

“Uhm…sure…”

Nigel appeared at the right moment, bringing a bottle of perfectly chilled Salon Blanc de Blancs and pouring it into tall, fluted glasses. At five hundred bucks per pop, David wanted to impress Samantha with a good selection of wine during dinner.

Samantha sipped the champagne and cringed. She looked guilty when he caught the expression on her face. “It’s too strong for me. I’m sorry.”

Maybe he should have ordered Nigel to bring her a glass of chocolate milk instead.

She turned to Nigel. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I’ll just have a glass of water, please.”

David found her very innocently cute. It had been a long time since he’d had a date who wasn’t the type that rambled about the wine, the arts and gossiping about the other socialites. David dated out of necessity. Need for sex and to manage his persona in front of his clients and colleagues. The relationships usually didn’t last long. David avoided the night stay, which some women found insulting. They thought David was one of those wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am types. They didn’t know about his need to night shift. Or his tendency of being dangerous when his beast took over and reigned free.

Nigel inclined his head. “Certainly, miss.” He put the bottle into the ice bucket and glided into the kitchen.

“Not a social drinker?” David asked.

“Alcohol gives me heartburn.”

David chuckled. “You are fascinating.” His tiger agreed. It sniffed, scented and approved. She made his blood boil with lust and at the same time, she soothed him. His tiger couldn’t wait to break out of his skin, wanting to be petted personally by those pale, long-tapered fingers of hers.

“I am?” She widened her eyes as if she wasn’t sure his compliment was sincere.

“You are. Shall we start dinner?”

“Yes, of course.”

When Nigel came with her glass of water, David nodded at the butler. “We’re ready.”

Chapter Three

Samantha knew all of her employers were young, but she hadn’t guessed that David Strauss would be this…beautiful. She thought that Adam Hauser was drop-dead gorgeous, but David. Oh my God. Her knees weakened the moment those light amber eyes settled on hers. His stare was hypnotising—she found herself wanting to melt into a puddle of goo.

Like Adam, he was also very tall. And he must be toned, too, judging from his imposing figure. Broad shoulders, tapered waistline. He was dressed in a crisp, expensive designer suit. His hair was light and he wore it rather long, the silvery strands of spun silk striking against the black fabric. He had a patrician nose and high cheekbones and lips that were almost too sensual for a man.

Samantha had felt as if she had just woken from a dream when he’d pulled a chair for her to sit down. Adam Hauser was handsome. David Strauss was inhumanly angelic. She had a feeling that Calvin Neutzel wouldn’t be far behind. They were all young, rich and good-looking. What was their problem? Why would they resort to hiring her as their sexual entertainment? She wasn’t exactly a turning-heads type. Was there something wrong with them?

She sipped her water until Nigel brought in the first course. It was some kind of shrimp wrapped in pastry and drizzled with herb-scented sauce. Whatever it was, it tasted delicious. They ate in silence. David seemed to be the type of person who didn’t want to talk during dinner, so Samantha kept her mouth shut and just enjoyed the food.

Nigel kept bringing dish upon dish until she couldn’t eat another bite. When the butler declared it was dessert time, she thought she was going to burst. Her gown bustier had squeezed her diaphragm to the max. She couldn’t eat as much as she wanted to.

Nigel served David dessert. A rectangular chocolate cake layered with mousse and cream adorned the middle of the square plate. “I have a sweet tooth,” he confessed. “I couldn’t let a day go by without something delicious and sweet.”

“Really?”

“Aren’t you going to eat that?”

Samantha stared at her plate with regret. If David allowed her out of this deathly contraption called a bustier, she might have room for a spoonful of the cake. “Maybe I’ll have a taste.”