Mikayla [Orchidea: Love on the Bayou 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Read online

  He picked up his cell phone. “Isaac, is the car ready? Very well. I am on my way down.”

  He headed toward the main door of his penthouse suite and exited through the private elevator. The moment the main doors opened, Isaac, his driver and guard, was waiting for him.

  “We will be meeting the real estate agent at two o’clock sharp. I would like to arrive a little earlier so I can check out the views,” he stated as Isaac opened the side door to the black Range Rover.

  His phone buzzed a few times during the fifteen-minute ride out to the location. None of them were from Douglas. He answered his calls then told his secretary to hold all other calls until his notification. He wondered if he should call Antoine or Michael and ask about this Mikayla woman, but then he would be disappointed if either of them were interested in her and that he might be as well.

  This is ludicrous! I haven’t even met the woman yet. What am I thinking?

  As they pulled onto Burrens Place, the large estate came into view. The pictures had not done it justice. The landscaping needed minor updating. There was a long driveway, hidden from the side road that led straight up to the front of the house and a circular driveway. It was definitely private and secluded, which was what his clients would be after. He immediately noticed the two women speaking by the front door. A blonde, dressed in a purple, very fitted dress, looked toward the vehicle as Isaac approached. She actually posed, allowing the side slit of her dress to reveal her long, cream-colored thigh. It was kind of high and sexy for a day business dress. She wasn’t half bad looking either.

  Beside her stood another woman with shoulder-length black hair wearing an olive-green, slim-fitting dress that flared at the bottom. He wasn’t sure which one was Mikayla Aubert, but he was hoping the second one.

  Isaac got out of the car and walked around to open Pierre’s door.

  “Hello, Mr. Bently, I presume, I am Shelly Merchot, from Sotheby’s Realty.” The blonde moved toward him, blue eyes bright and sparkling as she reached out her hand. Her thick accent was French and seemed laid on and fake. He was good at recognizing all things authentic. He was still trying to remember that the Bently name would be considered fake, but it was a way of separating himself from his brothers for security and safety purposes.

  Her breasts poured from her top as he shook her hand and eyed her briefly, summing her up as “easy” before letting his eyes roam over the other woman.

  “Mr. Bently, I’m Mikayla Aubert from Aubert’s Realty. It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” she told him as he reached for her hand and held her gaze. She was stunning, with big brown eyes and plump red lips. Her dress was sophisticated and classy and only dipped slightly in the neckline. Their hands touched and wow, did he feel an instant attraction to her. He was thrilled until he thought about his brothers. Antoine and Michael would definitely find this woman to be attractive. She was almost too beautiful and with very little makeup as well. She pulled away and turned from his gaze blushing. Sweet, very sweet.

  “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Aubert. Are you able to show me around?” he asked, and the blonde intervened.

  “It would probably be in your best interest to allow me to show you around, Mr. Bently, or can I call you by your first name?” she asked with a wink, and he didn’t care for her one bit. She also looked down at Mikayla, and that annoyed him. He was instantly kind of protective of the woman and felt the need to defend her. A quick glance at Mikayla and he could tell she was uncomfortable.

  “You can call me Mr. Bently, and since Mikayla is my agent, I do believe that she is more than capable to show me around the home and surroundings.”

  “Oh, well we’ll have to see about the grounds, and I need to verify whether you can actually afford this dwelling before I can allow you entry. Had Miss Aubert explained to you, this is an exclusive listing, and other parties are interested,” she countered. Before he could respond, Mikayla was speaking.

  “Miss Merchot, I do believe that this residence has been on the market for quite some time due to the significant price tag and renovations needed for this dwelling. I can assure you that Mr. Bently is a busy man and would not waste his time visiting homes in New Orleans when he has to catch a plane in a few hours for Germany on business. Now if you will excuse us, you are impeding on Mr. Bently’s time, and he is a very busy and important person. Later.” Mikayla ushered with her hand for him to follow her, and Pierre smirked as he followed her toward the front door.

  * * * *

  Mikayla’s heart was pounding inside of her chest. Mr. Bently was absolutely gorgeous, and Shelly Merchot was nothing but a stuck-up bitch! She took a few steady breaths trying to calm her annoyance and focused on the man walking beside her. There was something familiar about him, but she brushed that off as attraction to the man. He was obviously a very wealthy man and appeared to be used to giving orders and leading. At least she hoped that he was wealthy because right now this could be the deal of the year for her or rather the largest monetary pay she would have ever received doing this work. She cleared her throat and began to explain about the home, pointing out numerous things to improve upon or leave, depending on how nostalgic he wanted the home to remain. It was indeed centuries old.

  He walked right beside her or very close behind her as they strolled through each room. She couldn’t help but enjoy his scent of aftershave, soap, and sophistication. She suddenly felt way out of her league here but focused on the job. She needed this.

  * * * *

  Pierre watched her walk through the foyer and explain the dimensions of the home and the many acres of property, but he missed most of it as he focused on her beauty. She had the face of a porcelain doll, an exquisite body, and a sexy tone of voice.

  “How long have you been a realtor, Miss Aubert?” he asked, wanting to hear more of her seductive voice.

  “Oh for about four years now.”

  “Four years? Certainly, that’s not a long time at all. You own the place as well?” he asked, surprised. She did seem rather young to own the business.

  “I can assure you that I know what I am doing. I started in the business as a teenager, working the phones, setting up appointments and learning about the realty business. By twenty I was an agent, and the owner had offered me a share in the place by twenty-one.”

  “So you have a partner?”

  “Not anymore. I brought her out over two years ago. Would you like to see the kitchen area? It is quite lovely and right off the entrance are two sitting areas to eat, one inside and one outside.”

  “Sure, lead the way.” He followed her and listened to her descriptions. Her low heels clicked along the marble flooring, and her hips swayed in a way that appealed greatly to his manhood that now stood at complete attention. He strained to inhale more of her sweet, fresh perfume and nearly stumbled into her. Damn, he was acting like an inexperienced teenager. She really did know her stuff, including the materials used around the home, the exact dates of renovations over the centuries, and some information on the past owners. She was young though. Younger than him by a good number of years. He figured at least seven. He thought about what she told him and how she was a partner with her boss at twenty and bought out her boss’s share at twenty-two.

  “As you can see the kitchen needs some updating depending on what your lifestyle is like. Are you married, Mr. Bently?” she asked him. He stared at her a moment, and they were mere inches from one another. He thought about inching closer to get a better whiff of her lovely perfume, but she seemed nervous. He had that effect on many people. Only moments ago, this young, beautiful woman had that effect on him.

  “No, Miss Aubert, and please call me Pierre.”

  “Pierre? I thought your name was William Bently?”

  “Oh, I like to use my middle name, so please call me Pierre.”

  She smiled as a light blush cascaded from her cheeks to her neck. “If you’d like to follow me out this way, I do believe there is an outdoor area used for entertaining or just r
elaxing.”

  He had recovered quickly enough that she hadn’t seemed to pick up on his minor lie. He didn’t want her to know exactly who he was quite yet. He was amazed at how quickly his mind seemed consumed by her beauty as he followed her outside and was impressed with the spacious area. The majority was done in cobblestone with bits of green moss as grout. There were also vines of flowers and greenery climbing from trellises against the stone surfaces of the house way up toward the roof and side windows. It was gorgeous.

  “There’s room to have meals out here as well. Very nice,” he stated.

  “Do you entertain a lot?” she asked him.

  “I do but have people who handle all the arrangements. Celia would have a ball with this place.”

  “Celia?”

  “My personal assistant.”

  They came across a beautiful chalet on the property. There was a gorgeous trellis covered in wisteria. It was breathtaking.

  “What is that over there?” he asked over her shoulder, completely invading her space in order to absorb her scent. God, she is intoxicating.

  “Oh, those are the servants’ quarters, or depending on what you are planning on doing with the property, they could be a number of things,” she whispered as she gazed up toward him, catching his stare.

  “And what would you do with the estate if you were buying it?”

  “Oh, I’m not certain really. There are so many possibilities. But I wouldn’t change that wisteria and trellis.” She sounded so serious as they walked closer.

  “Why is that?” He watched her walk nearer to the flowers, letting her hand gently glide across the trellis. He suddenly wished those hands were on him, gliding along his body as he held her gaze, staring into her dark brown eyes.

  “Oh there’s quite a beautiful story about this trellis and the flowers.”

  “You know it then? Do tell me,” he replied, watching her, intrigued by her tone of voice and her beauty. She had a perfect figure. She could be a model, but then many men would be able to look at her and fantasize about her. No, he was glad she wasn’t. He couldn’t believe these feelings of possessiveness.

  “It had been said that the original owners, the Owen family, had a son who was always getting into mischief. Even as he matured into a young man, it was difficult for his father to get him to settle down and consider taking a wife. He didn’t like being told what to do and often argued with his parents over such things. Anyway, he used to run off from the house and settle down over there by that large boulder.” Mikayla pointed toward the boulder. It was indeed very large. He was fascinated by her storytelling abilities and her serious tone.

  “Anyway, it was here that he met a young woman, four years younger actually, and they fell in love.”

  “Oh, that’s a very nice story,” he added.

  “Oh, it’s not over, Mr. Bently…I mean Pierre. You see, the woman was kind of a peasant girl. She came from a poor family and they were servants to the Owens for generations. Mr. Owen found out about his son and the girl, and he forbade his son to ever see her again. But the young couple was so very in love that they snuck around. Mr. Owen found out and sent his son away to never see the young woman again.”

  “How terrible. So they never met up again?” he asked, standing very close to Mikayla, imagining pulling her into his arms, and kissing her. Would she be offended or would she reciprocate the kiss? His curiosity was getting the better of him, and then she stepped away.

  “Oh no, they did. Many years later, Mr. Owen became very ill, and his son had to take over all the business involved with the estate. As not to upset his father and his fragile heart, young Owen had this trellis built and the flowers planted so that late at night, he could visit the young woman and they could be together.”

  Pierre was silent a moment. He couldn’t believe how caught up in the story he had gotten.

  “So what happened to them? Did they live happily ever after?” Pierre asked sarcastically. She turned away from him as if offended by his remark and began to walk away.

  “Miss Aubert.” He stopped her by grabbing her arm. She lost her footing in the grass, and he caught her, pulling her up flat against his chest.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his breathing raspy and short. This woman packed a hell of a punch.

  “Oh yes, I’m so sorry. We’d better get back. There’s another interested party coming to see the home.”

  “Oh, well call them off and cancel it. I’m going to buy it, and you are going to have dinner with me tonight to celebrate.” He took her hand and led her up the grass as she tried to speak but just kept stuttering. Adorable, absolutely adorable. Germany is going to wait.

  * * * *

  Mikayla had no idea what the hell just happened. One minute she was telling the story of the young Owen son and the next she was hauled up against a very sexy, attractive millionaire. And he had to be a millionaire by the way he stated he was buying a six-million-dollar home as if he were buying a cup of coffee. As they approached the front entrance, another man was standing there looking angry along with Ms. Merchot. He was a bit older than Pierre and very attractive.

  She watched as Mr. Bently pulled out his cell phone.

  “Yes, Celia, get the paperwork going,” he stated then hung up the phone. He looked at the other man who had a mean expression on his face.

  “Lukon, how odd to see you here. Were you looking at the place?” Pierre asked.

  “You know damn well I was. I don’t know how you found out, but damn it, I wanted this first.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now if you’ll excuse me, my agent and I need to discuss some plans for this evening. Good day, Miss Merchot.” He took Mikayla by the hand and led her down the walkway.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Bently, but what the hell is going on?” Mikayla asked. She didn’t want to get caught in some kind of pissing contest. With her luck Bently would back out and leave her reputation hanging.

  “Miss Aubert, I told you to call me Pierre. I can assure you that everything is perfect. I do appreciate your help with the tour this morning. Now, if you would be so kind as to gather the necessary paperwork needed to seal this deal, I would be so happy. Here is my card, and Celia is my assistant. You can call her and fax everything over immediately.”

  He walked closer to his car as his driver stood there watching her. Mikayla gave a weak smile, and he smiled in return and nodded his head. Mr. Bently followed her line of sight and looked at his driver, and the man immediately turned away and straightened his shoulders.

  “I will have Isaac pick you up at your home or business around seven this evening?”

  “Oh, I’m…that’s not necessary, Mr. Bently, I mean Pierre. I’ll be swamped with all this paperwork and other homes being viewed today.”

  “Nonsense. I will pick you up at work then. Seven sharp.”

  “Wait, I…” She looked down at what she was wearing and worried about where he may be taking her.

  “You look exceptional, Miss Aubert. The reservations have been made.” He got into the car. The driver got into the driver’s side, and they took off down the road.

  She was stunned. Was this a date? She wondered, and immediately she thought about Michael and Antoine. Why hadn’t they called her? She knew Michael was still heavily looking for Bennitto Flores and that Antoine had scheduled surgeries this week, but still, hadn’t they seemed interested in exploring the attraction they felt for her?

  Oh well, this was just a business dinner. Nothing more. Although with a man as powerful, sophisticated, and good-looking as Pierre Bently, she could hope for more.

  Mikayla headed toward her car, making phone calls and sealing the deal as she traveled back to the office. She shouldn’t have been surprised when her cell phone rang and it was Celia.

  “Yes, Miss Aubert, I have spoken with the owners and they have agreed to the price Mr. Bently had offered them, so there’s no need for you to negotiate anything. Mr. Bently said that he looks forward to s
eeing you again this evening. I will have the papers faxed to your office immediately.”

  Mikayla was dumbfounded. She did hardly anything yet made a major sale. He was able to find and contact the owners of the home? Who was this guy? She wondered who exactly had referred Mr. Bently to her after all.

  Chapter 2

  “You did what?” Michael asked Pierre.

  “I met Mikayla today, and I have to say that I was pleasantly surprised. She is gorgeous.”

  “I can’t believe you, Pierre. Does Antoine know about this?”

  Michael didn’t know how he felt about Pierre checking out Mikayla. It was bad enough that work had gotten in the way of plans they made with her two weeks ago.

  “Michael, I had some business to handle, and it just so happened that I needed a realtor. Someone had referred me to her, and they said that Antoine referred them. Are you telling me that you’re seeing her?” Pierre asked, feeling his temper begin to flare up. He wanted her. There was something unique and special about Mikayla.

  “We met her first. Antoine has been busy with work, and I’m still trying to track down the suspect that nearly killed her sister and friends back in Orchidea. It was a major case that involved senators and terrorist activities. I haven’t had any time until now. I was planning on calling her and making plans.”

  “Well, you’re too late. I’ve already made plans with her,” Pierre stated. He felt that knot in his stomach. Although Antoine and Michael weren’t his or Douglas’s biological brothers, they had a strong bond. They also vowed never to let a woman come between them, and it appeared that Mikayla would change that. At least for him anyway. Then of course Michael and Antoine might start talking about sharing again. He wasn’t certain he would be able to do that with Mikayla.