Thoroughly Whipped

“I was really only going to give you the grand tour. A personal grand tour.”

“Harry, have you seen where you live? It would take a year to cover this place.”

“Ah, but I know all the best bits.” He tapped the side of his nose with his index finger. “Insider knowledge.” He leaned forward and kissed my cheek. It took everything within me not to slam him into the balustrade and crash my mouth to his. But restrain I did.

As I walked on the gravel path toward the house, I shouted, “’Til the morrow!” and waved my champagne napkin in the air like a lace handkerchief. My heel slipped into a crack and I wobbled, almost hitting the ground.

Managing to right myself on a statue of a naked man, clutching his small penis, I stopped Harry from coming to my rescue with a gesture. “I’m okay!” I called out, pulling my heel from the crack and back onto the safety of the gravel. Harry shook his head at my clumsiness.

I pointed my thumb at the statue’s manhood. “You could have given him a few more inches,” I said to Harry. “Poor guy has been out here all this time, humiliated. For heaven’s sake, do the right thing!”

Harry laughed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Why was that so damn sexy? “Goodnight, Faith.”

“So I’m Faith again?” I asked as I reached the steps.

“You never weren’t Faith to me.”

I went back to my room, a new lightness in my step. Who was this Harry? This happy and joyful Harry? I wasn’t sure if I had truly met him before tonight. But I couldn’t wait to know him more. Tomorrow, I was spending the day and evening with him.

As I hit the mattress, exhaustion quickly pulled me under. But for the first time in a week I slept well, and I was glad, because the deeper I slept, the quicker tomorrow would come.

Chapter Nineteen

“Mr. Sinclair is waiting in his sitting room for you to take breakfast with him, Miss,” Timothy said the next morning when I exited my room and found him walking the hallway.

“His sitting room?”

“Yes, Miss. Everyone who lives here gets one.”

“Wow,” I said, marveling at the fact that some people were rich enough to get their own of each and everything. Even a lounge. I followed Timothy just two doors down from my room to another wooden door. When he opened it, Harry sat at a small table in the cove of a large window. He was in his usual attire of a white shirt and khakis, but this time he also wore a navy cardigan with a thick collar and a pair of black loafers. Of course he even made a cardigan and loafers look good.

Timothy shut the door, leaving us alone, and Harry got to his feet. He came over to me and took my hand. He ran his thumb over my fingers and leaned in to kiss me on my cheek. When he pulled away, I asked, “Is that all I’m getting?”

Harry’s cheek twitched in amusement. “Good morning, Faith,” he said. “And yes. That’s all you’re getting for now.”

“Yes, Maître,” I said, and Harry’s face fell with shock.

I tried not to laugh at his reaction but couldn’t help it. Harry shook his head, a blush coating his cheeks. I’d decided to copyright that blush too. It was adorable. “I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again. But you’re—”

“Incorrigible,” I finished for him. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“Breakfast?” he asked, clearly trying to get the conversation away from his moonlight job as a sexual master and back to his idyllic life in the Sinclair Estate. Harry pulled out a chair beside him at the table.

“Crumpets and toast and all the jams and butter,” I said. “And tea, lots of tea.”

“And coffee for Miss Parisi.” He handed me a full cafetière, a pot of sugar and cream. “I haven’t forgotten your aversion to England’s national beverage.”

“You get extra points for that, just so you know.” I poured myself a strong coffee, the smell of which nearly gave me an orgasm.

“I’m flattered,” Harry said and bit into a slice of toast.

“So? What’s the plan for today?” I buttered a crumpet and my eyes rolled back into my head when it hit my mouth. “Mm,” I said, “how did I not know these tasted so good? I wouldn’t have made them the butt of my jokes if I had.”

Harry watched my every move as I sucked my fingers into my mouth to get the last of the melted butter. “You know I’m good at sucking, Harry. So get those sex eyes away from me. I’m eating. And not even you and all your perfection can stand between me and starchy carbs.”

I wiped my hands on my fancy cloth napkin, while Harry smirked into his tea. “I thought we’d start with the house then go down to the gardens.” He finished his tea. “Then we can have dinner in the dining room tonight.”