The Seduction (Finding Forever #2) - Jessie Jones Page 0,44
just have a lot on my mind," the ebony haired beauty sharply replied as she forced a smile.
Understanding that the stunning American woman clearly did not want to talk about her problems, the house manager decided to change the subject. "Chef Christophe is preparing lunch, Dr. Morgan. I will have one of the girls prepare a table for you in the courtyard."
"No, Brigitte, that won't be necessary," Gillian said as she approached the servant. "Look, I don't mean to be offensive, but I don't need you and your staff waiting on me. I can take care of myself. Plus, if I'm being honest, when I start work on Monday, you won't see much of me. I would rather you act as if I am not even here."
"But, mademoiselle, I was instructed to address your needs personally by Mr.—" Brigitte replied as the phone began to ring. "One moment please. I must answer the phone." Gillian then watched the servant answer the phone. The woman's face seemed to pale before she quickly rattled something off in French. As soon as Brigitte hung up the phone, the servant walked past the American doctor and simply said, "I apologize for my behavior, mademoiselle. I must go now and tend to my duties. I will not bother you again."
"Bizarre," Gillian muttered to herself as she watched the middle aged woman quickly exit the room. She shrugged her shoulders and let out a sigh as she looked at the suitcases and boxes at her feet. The last thing she felt like doing was unpacking. If she began the process of settling in, then her relationship with John was definitely over. Who was she kidding? It was over anyway. The British billionaire was getting on with his life, so she should too.
As Gillian attempted to unpack her bags in France, Patrick drove his blue, vintage 1961 Ferrari along the busy, London streets. He allowed Billie Holiday's haunting voice to flow over him, but it did little to calm his soul. The Irishman ran an agitated hand through his blond hair before flipping off the car in front of him. Patrick had just flown in from a meeting in Scotland and was due to meet John for lunch at an exclusive bar in the Kensington neighborhood. This would be the first time he had seen his best mate since the night they had slept with Gillian. Patrick, like John, had buried himself in work for the past few days. He had hoped the distance away from England would help him to get the American out of his system, but his need for her had actually only grown exponentially.
He shifted in his seat when he felt the all too familiar stirring in his groin as his thoughts drifted to Gillian. Patrick let out an expletive as he adjusted the swelling cock in his designer suit. If Gillian was here right now, he would fuck the hell out of her with or without her permission! Patrick was so damn tired of jacking off, and for the first time in his adult life, he had gone almost a week without plunging inside of a warm, soft female. He had called several women to come over for a quick fuck but had cancelled the encounters before they had arrived. His favorite secretary, Keira, had even dropped to her knees to suck him off, but Patrick had found himself bored with the full-figured red head before she had even touched the belt on his jeans. Since fucking the damn American witch, the Irishman was completely incapable of being intimate with another woman. The thought literally made him sick to his stomach, and the feeling was completely foreign to him. Patrick often buried his feelings in alcohol and women, and since he couldn't have the latter, he had spent his nights drinking himself into oblivion.
The sound of ringing had Patrick glancing at the phone that sat in the passenger seat. Seeing the name of an occasional female fuck on the screen had him rolling his eyes. If Patrick was being honest with himself, he was tired of the endless string of bitches coming in and out of his life. Catching a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror, he let out a string of profanity. Patrick had been told by others his whole life how beautiful he was, but he viewed his looks as nothing more than a curse. He was so sick of hearing how attractive he was and wished that women