The Innocent's One-Night Proposal
Author
Jackie Ashenden
Reads
18.4K
Chapters
14
Chapter 1
GLORY ALBRIGHT THOUGHT she might be in trouble when the first naked woman sauntered past her.
When a second followed, Glory realised she was totally out of her depth.
So. It appeared the rumours about how wild the parties at Castor Xenakisâs Malibu mansion got were true.
Wild didnât even begin to cover it.
She pulled the cloak she wore tighter around her shoulders and concentrated very hard on the bookshelf in front of her rather than what was happening around her. There was a small sculpture sitting on one of the shelves. It was of a woman being embraced by a man and was carved out of white marble. The man had his hands...
Oh.
Glory blushed as she suddenly realised what kind of sculpture it was and wished she could turn around and find something else to look at, but since turning around might mean potentially seeing more naked people, the statue was clearly the lesser of the two evils.
This was a stupid idea. She shouldnât have come.
In the room at her back, she could hear people laughing and talking and shrieking. Music throbbed like a heartbeat. From elsewhere came the sounds of smashing glass and yet more loud laughter. Then a splash from the pool area.
Someone brushed against her as they walked past where she stood near the bookshelf, and she shrank away in discomfort.
Infamous parties/orgies at luxury Malibu beach houses were so far out of her comfort zone that she may as well have been on the moon, and if sheâd had any choice in the matter sheâd still be safely at home in the run-down apartment she shared with her sister, curled up in front of the TV watching reruns of Friends and eating ice cream.
But she didnât have a choice. Okay, perhaps that wasnât exactly true. She didnât have to decide she wanted to pay for her sister to have IVF treatment. And the plan sheâd come up with didnât need to include gatecrashing the party of one of the most notorious playboys in the world. Neither did it have to involve her virginity, and selling said virginity to said playboy.
Then again, Annabel couldnât afford IVF and after the sacrifices sheâd made in bringing Glory up after their parentsâ deaths, Glory thought helping her achieve her dream of having a family was a small price to pay.
Yes, the idea of selling her virginity to an infamous playboy might be a bit wild and wild wasnât Glory at all, but how else could she get a lot of money in a short space of time, and legally?
And this was Castor Xenakis after all. She hadnât spent months looking at the pictures of him in the gossip magazines for absolutely no reason. He might be a very bad man and she might tell herself she was doing this for Annabelâs benefit, but the deeper truth beneath that was that she wanted him.
Those pictures had led to an obsession with him that she couldnât deny. An obsession that she was tired of and was hoping a night in his bed would cure her of.
Anyway, it wasnât as if sheâd just dreamed her plan up on the fly. It had come to her after months spent reading said magazines at her job behind the counter of Mr and Mrs Jessupâs grocery store, and then paying quiet attention to the customers who visited the store. Customers who talked. Customers who let slip certain things...
The plan was utter madness, of course, and totally alien to Gloryâs quiet nature, but when you were a dirt-poor checkout girl and your beloved older sister had given up a lot of dreams for you, then you did what you could to give those dreams back to her.
Exactly. And you didnât come here to stand in front of the bookshelf staring at naughty statues.
No, she hadnât.
Sheâd come to one of Castor Xenakisâs notorious Malibu parties to find the worldâs most debauched and dissolute playboy himself, then offer him her virginity.
For a price.
It wasnât totally out of the realms of possibility that heâd accept. She had, after all, read a lot about him in those magazines that stood on a stand near the counter, because he was in those magazines constantly. And if the rumours about his parties were true, then she might have a chance.
He was supposed to choose a woman for the night from amongst the partygoers and whichever woman he chose apparently didnât go away empty-handed the next day. Money, jewellery, expensive purses were some of the gifts he gave to his lovers. One was even rumoured to have been given some expensive sports car.
Glory had been in the middle of reading one of those gossipy articles when a couple of women had come in, chattering about all the work they had to do for the party coming up that weekend.
She had sat there quietly, not drawing attention to herself, which she was very good at, just listening. Being able to fade into the background was a useful skill, since if people didnât notice you, theyâd talk about all kinds of stuff.
Such as how the party was going to be a big one and how the boss himself was going to be there, and how he did like everything to go smoothly.
The two women were regulars and Glory knew they worked at Castor Xenakisâs Malibu beach house, so he must have been the boss they were talking about.
Castor Xenakis, CEO of CX Enterprisesâa multinational with interests in finance, shipping, construction and various other industriesâand party circuit regular, had been linked to all kinds of scandals and was reputedly one of the most infamous womanisers in the western world, if not the entire globe.
The one who made extravagant gifts to his lovers.
It was then that her idea was born. Her mad, wild and very un-Glory-like idea.
There was no guarantee heâd accept her offer, and why would he when he had a legion of A-list Hollywood stars, supermodels and even royalty at his beck and call? Then again, he might be in the market for novelty, for something different, and Glory could safely say that she was different. At least for him. She wasnât beautiful, but sheâd been told on a number of occasionsâor at least shouted at by menâthat she had a great body. But mainly, she was a total virgin. She hadnât even been kissed before. Men got off on that, or so sheâd heard, and she was hoping Castor Xenakis would get off on it.
And if he doesnât, Annabel wonât get a chance at having a baby.
That was true. And she wouldnât get her chance at a night with him either, which was disappointing.
She had to be rid of this obsession. How would she ever find someone in her own league if she kept thinking about a man normally so far beyond her reach he might as well have been on the moon?
Whatever, standing here feeling sick with nerves wasnât going to help with either of those two things.
First, she had to find him.
Steeling herself, Glory turned around.
The room was huge, running the entire width of the house. One wall was entirely floor-to-ceiling windows that faced the beach. Low, white leather modular couches were scattered everywhere, along with low glass tables, and sleek bookshelves devoid of actual books. Huge artworksâmostly abstractâadorned the white walls, and a number of other sculptural artworks stood on tables or on the white carpet of the floor.
The effect was one of stark luxury but Glory, who was fond of clutter, found it rather soulless.
People were scattered around the room, the women dressed in couture cocktail dresses and statement jewellery, the men in designer suits. She thought she might recognise some of the guests since it was definitely a place for the rich and famous, but so far she hadnât.
There were still laughter and lots of conversation, the music thumping, but she could see that there was a couple in the corner who were...
Oh. Right.
Glory moved quickly out of the room, her heart beating very fast, and into the soaring atrium-style entranceway. Massive globes of frosted glass hung suspended from the ceiling, looking like planets floating in space.
There were also people out here, though mostly clothed, thank God.
Glory wished she had the courage to ask one of them where Castor Xenakis was, but she didnât want to draw attention to herself. They might realise she hadnât been invitedâsheâd snuck in with a group of people dressed in burlesque costumesâand might decide to have her kicked out since it was clear she didnât belong here.
And she really didnât. The nudity, the alcohol, the luxury setting, the crowds of people and the uninhibited atmosphere were all making her extremely uncomfortable. She didnât do parties, never had, not even as a teenager. Sheâd been too busy taking care of Annabel after her breast cancer diagnosis, and there hadnât been time for any of that kind of thing even if sheâd wanted to.
Not that she wanted to. Her life was quiet and steady and predictable, and thatâs just how she preferred it.
Which makes being here a really dumb idea.
Probably. But that IVF wasnât going to pay for itself and she was here now, and so she at least had to try.
Skirting a group of sketchy-looking men who were talking seriously and radiating âdo not disturbâ vibes, Glory found another long hallway and started down it.
Perhaps Xenakis had withdrawn from the main party and was in another room. He could be outside, of course, somewhere in the lush, tropical-style garden that surrounded the house, but she wanted to make sure he wasnât inside first before she braved whatever was going on outside.
Or perhaps sheâd missed him? But no, he wasnât like her. He wasnât a man who would ever fade into the background and remain unnoticed.
Castor Xenakis couldnât remain unnoticed even if he tried.
He was phenomenally handsome and even in the photos Glory had pored over sheâd been able to tell that he possessed the kind of charisma that drew people to him, that commanded attention simply by its very existence.
And youâre hoping a man like that will choose you for the night? Are you actually insane?
Maybe. But as sheâd sat reading about him in that magazine and then heard his two staff members chatting about the upcoming party, well...it had seemed like fate.
The throb of the party music was a little less down this corridor, but was now joined by the sound of a piano, which was odd.
She followed the sound, the notes cascading through the hallway, echoing off the hardwood floors and the white stone walls.
Abruptly the hallway opened out into a room that faced the lush, discreetly lit garden. A white grand piano stood near the windows, a woman in a silver gown seated at it, playing.
Grouped around the room were yet more of those long white couches, with peopleâwomen mostly, in beautiful dressesâsitting on them.
In the middle of the room was a big white armchair and sitting in the armchair was a man.
He had a woman curled in his lap while another draped herself over the arm of his chair, and he looked like a king on his throne. Or maybe a pasha sitting at his ease surrounded by his harem.
Glory stopped short in the doorway, transfixed.
He wore tailored black trousers and a white shirt open at the neck and he was quite simply the most beautiful manâno, personâsheâd ever seen.
It was him. It was Castor Xenakis, and he was even more incredible in person than he was in his pictures.
His hair was a dark tawny colour, like a lionâs pelt, and artfully tousled, his skin golden. His features looked like theyâd been hand carved by Michelangelo himself, with an Attic profile, high cheekbones and a beautiful, sensual mouth.
His eyebrows were dark, his lashes thick and silky and streaked with gold, and his eyes were the same dark golden brown of fine brandy.
He was like an exquisite Renaissance sculpture that had been feathered with gilding and then given a light scatter of gold dust.
Glory quivered at the beauty of him.
He sat back in the chair, smiling at the blonde in his lap and curling a lock of her hair idly around one finger, while the brunette sitting on the arm of the chair leaned down to say something in his ear.
He laughed in response, the sound low and sexy, making a curious heat prickle all over Gloryâs skin.
Her breath caught, her stomach dropping right down into the red patent stiletto sandals that sheâd picked up from a cheap chain store the day before, as something sheâd already thought about but hadnât fully taken on board became clear.
He might be dissolute, dissipated and morally bankrupt, but he was also beautiful. Stunningly, heartbreakingly so, and she... She was not.
He was a Greek god while she was a small, brown church mouse, and there was no wayâno wayâin the world heâd ever consider her pathetic little offer. Not only did he possess a charisma that burned like a forest fire, he was also surrounded by the most beautiful women Glory had ever seen.
Why on earth had she ever thought heâd look twice at someone like her?
But what about Annabel? She needs treatment.
Oh, she did. But Glory was going to have to think of some other way of getting money because this obviously wasnât going to work. And as for her own secret obsession and her even more secret desire...well, she could forget about that too, because that wasnât going to happen.
She needed to leave now, before she made an utter fool of herself.
On the point of turning around and heading straight for the front door, Glory froze as a pair of heavy hands came down on her shoulders, gripping her lightly, and she was aware of someone standing behind her. A man wearing an overpowering aftershave that didnât do much to mask the odour of stale sweat, cigarette smoke and another, musky smell that made her shiver with distaste.
âAh, there you are, Red Riding Hood,â the man said, his accent thick and Eastern Europeanâsounding. âIâve been looking for you everywhere.â
Fear iced her veins, her heart beating suddenly very loudly in her ears.
Youâre an idiot coming to a party like this on your own, looking for the biggest womaniser in the world. What did you think was going to happen?
Okay, so yes, sheâd been naive and being desperate hadnât helped either. And now some horrible man was going to drag her off God knew where and no one here would help her, she already knew that much.
Still, she wasnât going to stand there and let herself be taken. The stilettos might have been cheap, but she was betting that the man holding her wouldnât like it if she drove one of her heels into his foot.
Glory tensed, preparing to bolt. Then the breath stuck in her throat as Castor Xenakisâs gaze locked on hers and she was held captive by a pair of golden-brown eyes, the distaste sheâd felt at being grabbed by the man behind her scattering in a shower of bonfire sparks.
An expression she couldnât name rippled over Xenakisâs beautiful face before his gaze shifted to the man behind her. He smiled. âDimitri,â he said, his voice deep and rich and warm as melted honey. âI think Red Riding Hood might be a bit too tame for your tastes. How about I find you someone more interesting, hmm?â
Castor was furious, though he didnât let even a hint of his fury escape. He prided himself on no one being able to tell what he was thinking, still less what he was feeling, especially in the middle of one of his parties.
Most especially not when that party was turning into a complete failure.
The people heâd invitedâa group of known human traffickers from Eastern Europeâhad decided at the last minute not to come, sending only Dimitri, a thug not only low on the totem pole but also low in intelligence, in their stead.
It was an insult, that was clear, and it meant they werenât taking any of his efforts to gain access to their inner circle seriously enough.
Heâd been trying for months to get close to this particular group of traffickers, but it turned out that the terrible reputation heâd careful cultivated, that had enabled him to gain their trust as far as it went, was now working against him.
This group were staunch family men, all with wives and children, and they did not want someone of Castorâs ilk joining them. It drew too much attention, apparently.
It was beginning to be clear to Castor that if he wanted to become one of them, he was going to have to do something to change their opinion of him.
He wasnât sure quite what that something was yet, but heâd do it.
Once he was part of that inner circle, all he needed then was to get the location of their next âshipmentâ and pass that on to the authorities so they could intercept it.
He was going to take those animals down and their loathsome organisation with them.
Starting with that bastard Dimitri.
Are you sure you want to go after them now? In public?
That was true. How disappointing. He would have to settle with discretion, then.
His gaze fell once again on the woman Dimitri was holding. She was very small and wrapped entirely in what was, indeed, a red cloak. Her face was pale and sharp and fox-like, and she had the largest, most liquid dark eyes heâd ever seen. Eyes that had been full of fear as theyâd met his.
The people that came to his parties were carefully chosen. They had few boundaries and even fewer inhibitions, and if any of them were frightened at being handled by Dimitri, none would have been gauche enough to show it.
But not this woman. Her fear was written all over her face.
She doesnât belong here.
Castorâs temper, already roused, began to seethe. He always checked his guest list rigorously and people who werenât on it didnât get in, and he was pretty sure this woman, whoever she was, hadnât been on it.
So what she was doing here and how sheâd got in, he had no idea.
What he did know was that he needed to get her out of Dimitriâs clutches and fast. The man was a brutal thug and Marieâwho was ex-military and one of his security staffâwould know how to deal with him.
âInteresting?â Dimitri echoed, frowning. âHow interesting?â
Castor bent and murmured in Esmeâs ear, âOff me, sweetheart. Iâll come and find you later.â
Esme slid off his lap without a protest and he got up, sending Tyler, who was playing the piano, an apologetic look.
Then he turned and headed for the doorway where Dimitri stood with Red Riding Hood, those dark eyes of hers getting rounder and rounder the closer he got. As if sheâd never seen anything like him before in her entire life.
A small pulse of...something went through him, though what it was, he couldnât tell. Strange. Lots of women looked at him that way. Women lovelier than she was, so why he should feel anything at all God only knew.
âCome,â he said easily, taking Dimitri by the arm. âLet me tell you about Lola.â
Dimitri frowned, but let go of the dark-eyed woman. She was trembling slightly. Castor couldnât help but notice.
What on earth was she doing here? His parties were infamous, exclusive and wildly debauched, and they were not for the faint of heart.
What they were for was getting information from human traffickers about their operations so Castor could pass that on to the authorities.
It was not a place for someone who didnât know what they were doing.
Marie, luckily, was standing near the doorway, dressed in a tight black cocktail dress that showed off her magnificent figure at the same time as it gave her room to move if there were any threats.
Castor signalled her and she approached, smiling at Dimitri. âHi there,â she murmured, taking him by the arm. âIâm Lola. Wanna go have some fun?â
Dimitri relaxed, letting her take him off down the hall, leaving Castor with Red Riding Hood in her cloak.
She was still very pale, staring up at him with those huge eyes. And he was conscious that his fury was in no way satisfied now Dimitri had been dealt with. In fact, for some reason he couldnât quite pinpoint, he was even angrier than heâd been a moment ago.
She wasnât one of his guests, which meant sheâd somehow sneaked in. And that was dangerous not only for her, but for him as well. Especially if anything happened to her. He had an agreement with local law enforcement that they would leave his parties alone in return for the information he passed on, but if something happened to an innocent, even they wouldnât be able to ignore it. And that would put at risk everything heâd spent the last ten years working for.
âIâIââ she began.
âAs for you.â Castor took her arm in an iron grip. âYouâre coming with me.â
He didnât want to do this publicly. He would take her into his private study, where he could find out exactly who she was and what she was doing here, and then ensure sheâd never make such a foolish mistake again.
She stiffened as he urged her down the hallway, but she was no match for his strength and was soon hurrying along beside him, her cloak fluttering out behind her.
His study wasnât far and it had a lock so no curious guests could blunder in.
He paused outside, pressed his finger to the fingerprint pad and heard the click as the door unlocked. Then he ushered her inside and shut the door behind them.
It was a pleasant room, not that he stayed in this house often since he spent most of his time in Europe. But he liked the windows that looked out over the garden rather than the sea. It had the same white walls; however, most of these were lined with sleek modern shelving housing the many books he liked to read. There were comfortable couches scattered around, plus a few roomy armchairs, and the lighting was all recessed and discreet.
The woman had pulled away to stand in the middle of the room, her cloak wrapped tightly around her, big eyes peering at him from the depths of her hood.
He couldnât tell what kind of figure she had, but she had an interesting face. Sharp chin, sharp nose, but the most gorgeously full mouth.
She looked scared so he put his hands in his pockets, keeping his posture loose and unthreatening, since although he was angry and determined to give her a piece of his mind, he wasnât going to hurt her.
That was the very last thing in the world heâd do.
âSweetheart,â he said coolly. âYou shouldnât be here.â
She gazed at him warily, as if he was a rabid dog who might attack at any moment. âIâIâI know. I wasnât invited.â Her voice was low, husky, and sent the most disturbing shiver of sexual awareness down his spine.
How inconvenient. Still, it wasnât an issue. He had Esme for tonight and she was always up for anything.
âNo, of course you werenât invited. I know everyone on that guest list and you werenât on it. So tell me, who are you and what the hell are you doing in my house?â
She stared at him for a moment, then squared her shoulders as if bracing herself for a distasteful task and took a step towards him.
âActually,â she said. âIâm here to make you an offer.â
It wasnât unusual. Lots of people made him offers.
Castor raised an eyebrow. âYou gatecrashed my party to make me an offer? What kind of offer?â
âIâd like to offer you...â She lifted her chin as if she was facing down a firing squad, then dramatically threw off the cloak. âMy virginity.â
