Yours Completely (Billionaires and Brides 1)

If I thought the outside of the mansion had looked grand and imposing, the entryway made it look dull. The room was more ballroom than entrance, with sprawling black and white tiles and two staircases that descended to meet at the bottom across from the door. The upstairs was open to look down on the main room, increasing the feeling of size. Everything about it screamed opulence and wealth.

Standing in the center of the room, looking tiny and young, was a well dressed brunette in a pencil skirt with a charming smile.

“Hi, I'm Charlotte, Mr. Belrose's personal assistant,” she greeted us, and motioned to the big man still standing guard by the door. “This here, is Elijah, Mr. Belrose's private security.”

“Please let me know if you see anything strange, no matter how small,” the big man said. His voice was as deep as he was huge. He reminded me of a lion. With a polite nod to all of us, he promptly turned and disappeared into vast recesses of the house. It was almost unnerving how easily and quietly he disappeared, even with my eyes never leaving him. It spoke to his effectiveness and thus to the importance of Mr. Belrose. Who knew a dating website could make so much money?

“You can leave your bags here,” Charlotte informed us with a smile. My father was trying to pull both our suitcases across the tiled floor and making a racket with the wheels. “Marcus will take them up to your rooms.”

Marcus, our limo driver, came in behind us and held out his hands for the suitcases. Dad reluctantly gave them up, but only after Marcus cleared his throat. Despite his effort to carry the bags, Dad looked worn out and ragged from traveling.

“Mr. Belrose will be down after his meeting, but I'd be happy to show you to your rooms if you'd like,” Charlotte offered. “I'm sure it must have been a long trip.”

“Does Mr. Belrose usually work here?” I asked, looking around at the incredibly expensive room. I hadn't even met the man yet, but I had to wonder at his style. He must be obsessed with his own wealth. “I mean, does he run the dating website from here? I thought it was based in New York.”

“He runs the logistics side of Kindling Romance, not the actual dating service,” Charlotte explained. She crossed the black and white tiled floors to stand next to the massive landing at the bottom of the two stairs. “He usually does work out of New York, but this auction is incredibly important to him, so he is telecommuting until its completion.”

Telecommuting? I looked down at my phone. I had it turned to airplane mode with wifi still active since we were now considered to be roaming. Super roaming. I didn't even want to contemplate what my phone bill would be if I left my data running for this trip. If Mr. Belrose was telecommuting, I could only imagine what his bill must look like. It was a good thing he was a billionaire.

“I'd actually love to go to my room for a bit,” Dad said, finally answering Charlotte's question. I noticed his collar was crooked again. His big body sagged on his frame as he looked around, looking like he might just curl up on the stairs and take a nap. “Traveling always seems to wear me out.”

Charlotte smiled and motioned us up the right hand side of stairs. “Your rooms are adjacent to one another and are on the second floor. If you'll follow me, please.”

“I'm going to need a map of the house when you get a moment.” Dad paused at the middle step, looking winded. It was a big staircase.

“I actually have some printed up. You wouldn't believe how many times I've gotten lost in this place.” Charlotte answered with a grin. “You'll get used to it.”

I shook my head, wondering just what kind of person would buy a house so big that they needed a map to get around. Add in all the opulence and wealth of all the furnishings, and it made me think that perhaps Mr. Belrose was a little too wrapped up with showing off his status.

“Before I forget,” Charlotte said, pausing in the middle of the hallway. I nearly plowed into her. She pointed to a large double door on the opposite side of the grand staircase. “During your time here, Mr. Belrose will be working. The study is his office and bedroom, and he does not want anyone but himself in there. It's off limits to everyone.”

“Is there anything that needs to be appraised in there?” Dad asked.

“A few things,” she replied, “but Mr. Belrose will have you appraise those at his convenience. Until then, he requests that neither of you enter his study without permission.”

“Of course,” Dad assure

d her, nodding vehemently. I knew he wouldn't even look at the door to Mr. Belrose's study, his honor and integrity permitting him to do nothing less. It was one of the things I loved most about my dad. Me, on the other hand, I would probably try and peek in if I ever saw the door open. Making things off limits tended to make me curious, but I wouldn't want two random strangers poking through my bedroom without permission either.

Charlotte nodded, glad to see we understood and motioned us after her into another part of the monstrous house. The sunlight from the setting sun turned the room into a golden paradise as we worked our way down the hallways to our rooms. Every wall contained artwork and furniture that had my father and I drooling. In just the walk to our rooms, I already had a rough estimate of hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of antiques. This was going to be a massive job.

“Here are your rooms,” Charlotte announced. They were side by side with one at the end of the hallway. “I thought Mr. Fairchild would like this one, as the furniture is all authentic Alexander Roux pieces.”

Dad's eyes lit up. He nearly bowled Charlotte over to get into the room. I giggled. He reminded me of a kid on Christmas morning.

“I think you just made his trip,” I told her. She grinned with childlike pride.

“I'm just glad they had certificates on them, or I never would have known,” she confided, then gestured to my room. “I'm afraid your room isn't anything special. I know your specialty is impressionist art, but most of the pieces aren't in any of the guest rooms...”

“This is perfect,” I interrupted, stepping into the room. It was large, with a gaudy bed and overzealous artwork, but the real treasure was the big window overlooking the ocean. We were on the East side of the island, so I would be able to see the sunrise in the morning. “Thank you, Charlotte.”

Her face split into a grin. I liked her. She had obviously taken the time to choose rooms for us based on what she knew about us. It was sweet.

“I'm so glad that the rooms are acceptable to you both,” she said, slipping back into a more formal tone. “Dinner will be in half an hour in the kitchen.”

“Thank you, again,” I replied. I hoped I could get her out of her shell a little bit while we were here. She seemed like she could be fun if she wasn't working. “What are we having.”

“Just some soup and finger foods,” she answered. “Is that all right, Miss Fairchild?”