Free Priceless by Olivia Darling

would be the sexual equivalent of an after-dinner cigarette. A substitute for an after-dinner cigarette, in fact, since you could no longer have one of those, even in Claridge’s cigar bar.
    Nat followed Carrie into her room, placing a guiding hand on her bottom as he did so. Carrie had a brief moment of panic when she spotted her calendar—black leather embossed with Ehrenpreis in big gold letters—lying on the floor beside her briefcase. A swift kick from her Manolos hid that beneath the bed. It didn’t really matter. Nat was too focused on getting Carrie out of her clothes to notice anything else in the room.
    Carrie wriggled out of the Lanvin sheath to reveal her fantastic underwear. Nat murmured appreciatively when he saw the black silk brassiere and matching panties that set off Carrie’s caramel tan so perfectly. He took them off but requested that she leave her shoes and stockings on, as Carrie had known he would. Men of Nat’s vintagewere fairly predictable when it came to their “kinky” tastes. She didn’t mind. She knew that her legs looked great in the lace-edged hold-ups.
    Carrie sat down upon the bed and pulled Nat toward her by his tie. He shrugged his jacket off. Carrie admired the flash of kingfisher-blue lining that gave the well-cut gray suit a certain dandy edge. She helped him with the buttons of his shirt—Hilditch and Key, perfectly pressed. Nat released himself from his trousers and underpants, revealing an impressive erection that brought an instant smile to Carrie’s lips.
    “Ready for me?” Nat asked as he prepared to climb on board without any further preamble.
    Carrie bit her lip and nodded. “Though you’ll have to put this on,” she said, reaching over and taking from her handbag a square packet of foil that contained a condom.
    Nat grumbled but did as he was told, soon realizing that he wasn’t going to get laid without protection. After that the sex was brief and messy if enthusiastic and energetic. Carrie knew that she wasn’t going to get within a mile of an orgasm herself. It was all over too quickly for that.
    It was only afterward, as Nat lay beside her panting like he had just run a marathon dressed as a rhino, that Carrie realized he had made love to her without first removing his socks.
    Carrie was glad when Nat announced that he had to leave just half an hour later.
    “Got to get into the office early,” Nat said.
    “Of course,” said Carrie. She glanced at her watch. “The sale.”
    Had Carrie been overseeing a sale of her own, she would have been in her office all night.
    Nat dressed, though he didn’t bother to put his tie back on.
    “Here’s my card,” he said. “I hope that you and I will see each other again very soon.”
    “I’m sure we will,” said Carrie.
    “Make sure you wave to me from the back of the sale, won’t you? Though only if you want to buy the painting I’m taking bids on.”
    “Ha-ha.” Carrie gave an impression of a laugh. “I’ll see you around.”

CHAPTER 11

    W hat’s the matter with Wildey?” Sarah Jane asked Lizzy later the following day. “There’s something weird about him. That was a fantastic sale, but he seems positively subdued.”
    Nat came out of his office moments later. His forehead was creased with irritation. Carrie Barclay had not been at the sale. He had been so sure she would be there, and he had intended to ask for her number afterward. But she hadn’t turned up. Nat was frankly astonished that she didn’t want to see his performance in the salesroom after such an impressive performance in bed.
    “Sarah Jane,” he barked, “you’re supposed to update the database. Why can’t I find the details for Carrie Barclay?”
    “Who?” Sarah Jane replied.
    “Carrie Barclay. New York divorcée from the old masters launch. Black dress, blond hair.”
    Sarah Jane was nonplussed, but Lizzy knew exactly who he was talking about.
    “The one you took to dinner?” Lizzy said. “The really important