Elevating Eve (Fairford Affairs #4)

1. Jonathan

CHAPTER 1

Jonathan

J onathan scanned the architectural plans and financial statements spread across his desk and sighed. What a clusterfuck. Closing his eyes, he tried, without success, to massage away the band of pain squeezing his forehead like a vise.

Fairford Manor was starting to fall apart. The weird thing was that Jonathan couldn’t even bring himself to be upset about it. Perhaps because it wasn’t crashing down around him...more like it had begun to fray a little at the edges. While pulling on any of the loose threads wouldn’t exactly destroy what he and the others had built here, it would never look the same either.

Revenues were way the fuck down. They’d already sunk millions into a new construction project that, so far, produced little more than a permanent stress headache. And though guest satisfaction remained remarkably high for a resort—let alone one that specialized in fulfilling their guests’ deepest, darkest BDSM fantasies—it was starting to drop ever so slightly.

Not that it surprised Jonathan.

For its first five years, all the Manor’s Doms provided around-the-clock experiences for each and every guest. Total immersion in the fantasy. A solid week in the sexiest dream imaginable. But now...with more and more of them falling in love and pairing off, change became the only option.

Or at least the only option with any chance of long-term success.

At the end of the day, that was Jonathan’s number one job at the Manor. Keep it all together and inexorably moving forward, no matter what speedbumps or roadblocks got in the way.

A knock sounded on his office door. Jonathan straightened in his chair and arranged his features into a look of polite apathy. “Enter.”

Jonathan held back a groan when he saw who walked through the door. “Please don’t tell me there’s another issue.”

Frank Talley’s answering grin did nothing to reassure Jonathan. The man owned the construction company currently three months behind schedule on the Manor’s expansion project, and he donned that same phony expression no matter what news he planned to deliver.

“Unfortunately,” Talley started, and Jonathan didn’t bother stopping his groan this time. Why did more than half this fucker’s sentences start with that word? Talley pursed his thin lips. “I can come back later if this is a bad time.”

“Sorry, I’m having a rough day. Just lay it on me.”

Talley lifted his eyebrows in that irritatingly superior way of his. “As you wish. The tile you chose for the bathrooms has been discontinued.”

“Of course it has.” Couldn’t a single thing go right with this project? “Can we buy out whatever they have left in stock?”

There was that fucking smile again. For fuck’s sake, why did he ever agree to hire this guy? “I checked on that, but unfortunately, we’d only be able to finish eleven of the bathrooms if we went that route. If that’s how you’d like to proceed...” His tone made it very clear he thought it was a bad idea.

Yeah, well, no shit. Jonathan was perfectly capable of determining that on his own. “No, I still want them all to match.” The twenty new guest rooms needed to be so perfect that no one minded staying in the new building instead of the main Manor house. He and the other partners had envisioned them as identical spectacles of luxury, and he refused to compromise on that vision.

Jonathan rubbed at his forehead again, willing his stress headache to disappear. No chance of that happening anytime soon .

“I anticipated you’d feel that way.” Smugness dripped from each word, as if it was some great accomplishment to guess Jonathan would keep the opinion he’d already strongly expressed. “My assistant should be along shortly with new samples for you to review.”

As if his words had summoned her, another knock sounded on the office door. “Enter,” Jonathan said, voice a good deal kinder this time.

Jonathan did his level best to act as if nothing of note happened when Eve shuffled sideways through his door, a large box gripped in both hands. But the truth of the matter was, she took his breath away every goddamn time he saw her.

She had a face that should inspire artists to launch another Renaissance—perfect cheekbones, the most kissable lips he’d ever seen, a jawline he wanted to trace with his tongue. But it was that exceptionally thick, shiny, coffee brown hair that he literally dreamed about. He wanted to release it from her ever-present ponytail and run his fingers through it.

Wrap it around his fist and tug to expose her throat.

He wanted to touch her. Feel every inch of her softness and find all her hard edges. Discover her body’s deepest secrets, always hidden beneath shapeless mom jeans and oversize shirts with her company logo on them.

Not that her outfit choices surprised him, given the amount of time she spent traipsing through the construction site, keeping an eagle eye on every aspect of the project. Meanwhile, Talley was all bluster and grandstanding in his immaculate, ill-fitting suit.

Without so much as a thank you, Talley yanked the box out of her hands. “You sure took your time.”

Though he murmured the words, Jonathan had no trouble hearing them. A wave of anger rose from his belly up into his chest. “Respectfully, Mr. Talley, it’s pretty obvious she did nothing of the kind.”

Talley’s eyebrows shot up again, and for once, he looked surprised rather than arrogant. “I beg your pardon?”

Gesturing in Eve’s direction, Jonathan went on in the same clipped tone. “Look at her. Her skin is flushed. She’s out of breath.” Not something he’d expect for someone in such fantastic shape and on a mild day. He looked into her eyes—took in the shock and gratitude there. “You ran up both flights of stairs, didn’t you?” He’d turned one of the spare rooms on the third floor into his private office when the expansion project began.

Her big brown eyes shifted toward her boss warily. But then she swallowed and stood up a little taller, meeting Jonathan’s gaze again. “Yes, Mr. Hale, I did.” Cheeks turning a deeper shade of red, she looked down toward her feet. “Sorry,” she mumbled in Talley’s direction.

Talley ran a hand over his flushed face, trying to hide his embarrassment. “No, I should be the one apologizing.” He cleared his throat, as if the words got stuck there. “Sorry, sweetie. I’ll make it up to you later.”

Sweetie?

What the actual fuck? Six months he’d worked with Eve and Talley on this project. Half a year, and never once did he get the impression they were anything other than boss and assistant. If they were a couple...

No, Talley was well into his sixties, with the iron gray hair and wrinkles to prove it. And frankly, he was an asshole. Someone as sweet and stunning as Eve wouldn’t go for that .

Would she?

The box hit his desk with a thud , yanking him out of his spiraling thoughts. “It would be good if you could make a decision by tomorrow,” Talley said, still sounding as if he’d just sucked on a lemon. “To avoid any further delays.”

Jonathan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. That made it sound like he and the other Manor partners caused the delays, which couldn’t be further from the truth. “I’ll do my best.”

“Well, I’m afraid I’m needed elsewhere.” Talley inched toward the door, not meeting anyone’s gaze. “Eve, answer any questions he has about the tiles.” With that, he shot out of the room as if the antique Persian rug was on fire. The fucking coward.

Eve let out the tiniest of sighs, staring at the closed door with disappointment in her eyes and deep frown lines around her mouth.

No, disappointment wasn’t the right word. Every inch of her screamed defeat.

“Let’s look at these tiles, shall we?” Jonathan said, trying to sound cheerful rather than pissed off. If he could do anything to brighten the poor woman’s day, he’d do it without question.

Eve’s gaze lingered on the door for a few more seconds. Then she plastered a smile on her face and turned fully toward the desk. “There are some truly beautiful options here, Mr. Hale,” she said, a perkiness to her voice that rang as false as a thousand-dollar bill. “I think we’ll find something you love even more than the original tile.”

He had his work cut out for him.

They’d narrowed it down to three tiles over the course of the last hour. Unsurprisingly, Eve knew every imaginable detail about all the tiles in the box—a profound attention to detail Jonathan had come to expect from her. He’d yet to find a single aspect of the project she couldn’t talk about with near-encyclopedic knowledge.

No wonder she managed the site and crew instead of Talley.

“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your expertise. You’ve been a godsend these last six months.” Jonathan studied her as he spoke, taking in the subtle shift in her posture and dilation of her pupils. Beautiful. So incredibly beautiful. She blossomed under praise.

And she was absolutely fucking starved for it.

“I’m so glad I can be of service,” she said, blushing.

“It’ll definitely be one of these.” Jonathan ran his fingertips over the three remaining samples for at least the hundredth time. “I’ll talk to my partners and get our final decision to you by ten AM.”

She smiled, and this time it reached her eyes. Though her shoulders remained far too tense for his liking, he’d managed to loosen her up quite a bit since Talley left. “I look forward to hearing from you in the morning, Mr. Hale.”

Jonathan snorted. “Eve, you’ve seen me naked. I think it’s time you finally start calling me Jonathan, don’t you?”

Laughter burst out of her, and she clamped a hand over her mouth, as if to keep any more sound from escaping. “I, uh...” Her cheeks turned a deep crimson, and she began twisting the heavy gold ring on her right middle finger around and around—a nervous habit he’d witnessed countless times in the last six months. “I didn’t realize you knew I saw you.”

Saw him? Fuck, she didn’t just see him. She watched an entire scene out by the pool—first punishing his guest, and then giving her a pair of orgasms so explosive she slipped into subspace for half an hour.

Jonathan had seen Eve eating lunch in one of the garden’s many little alcoves before the festivities began. Part of his brain insisted he take his guest inside. Though the construction crew knew exactly what kind of establishment they were working for, that didn’t mean they signed up to be kinky voyeurs.

The larger part of his brain—the one controlled by his dick, if he was being honest—told him to proceed as planned just to see how she’d react. And sweet Christ, he wasn’t disappointed. Eve stayed for the entire scene, hardly blinking as she took in every single detail.

With a smile he feared was a little too wolfish, Jonathan said, “Please don’t be embarrassed. Voyeurism is not only allowed at the Manor. It’s encouraged.”

Eve turned her head away, trying to hide her smile of pleasure. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Her voice came out quite a bit lower than normal. “Until tomorrow morning, Mr. Ha—Jonathan.” She took two steps toward the door, but then stopped, shoulders hunching forward again.

With his smile fading away, Jonathan asked, “Is everything okay?”

After a few seconds, she turned to face him again. She’d gone back to fidgeting with her ring, its square-cut emerald flashing in the lamplight. “There’s something I think you should know.”

Jonathan leaned back in his chair, trying to project an aura of calm to counteract her nervous energy. “I’m all ears.”

Panic flashed in her eyes, and for a moment, he feared she would run off. But then she took a slow, steadying breath and forced herself to look him in the eyes. “Frank knew the tile you wanted was about to be discontinued. He knew before you even picked it.”

Anger formed a ball in the pit of his stomach, but he did everything in his power to keep it from showing. “Why didn’t he say something before now?”

“He waited to order it on purpose, hoping to get a big discount. That way his profit margin would be bigger.” She chewed on her bottom lip for a few seconds. “You’ve been nothing but kind to me, and I thought you deserved to know.”

Jonathan took several deep breaths through his nose, willing his emotions to subside. It wasn’t Eve’s fault her boss (slash boyfriend?) was crooked, and the woman obviously needed less anger in her life, not more.

“Thank you for telling me,” Jonathan said, sounding almost like a robot to his own ears. “I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

She watched him for several seconds, chewing on that full lower lip again, her long lashes framing kind eyes filled with concern. Fuck, she was beautiful. He couldn’t let himself get sidetracked right now, though, when he needed to find his business partners and start making some major decisions.

“Have a good night, Jonathan,” Eve said in barely more than a whisper before she slipped from the room, closing the door silently behind her.

“Shit,” he said, leaning back against the chair and closing his eyes. And he thought the project was a total clusterfuck before.

With a sigh, he fished his phone from his pocket and opened his eyes. Pulling up the group chat with all the partners—even Leo, their silent partner who lived in New York—he typed a quick explanation and asked what time they’d be available.

It was going to be a long-ass night.