Delecto - Games of Mastery (part 1) Read Online Free

unpleasant
situation in court, I managed myself better than this. Perhaps it
was my mood. The fact that it was today. My anxiety level was
clearly higher than normal.
    A few seconds
later, I heard the Frenchman speak, informing my client of my
arrival.
    “ Sebastian, your lawyer, Mademoiselle Preston, is
here.”
    “ Thank
you, Bertrand. Show the mademoiselle in, tout de suite, thank you.”
The low and commanding voice which replied raised my anxiety level
further.
    I took a deep
breath as Bertrand returned through the door and back to my
side.
    “ Coffee
or tea, Mademoiselle?”
    “ Oh, no
thank you.”
    “ Some
water, perhaps?”
    “ I’m
fine, nothing for me, thank you anyway.”
    He nodded his
head and stood aside to allow me entry. As I moved inside the room,
he closed the door with a whisper and a soft click behind me.
    I stood
awkwardly for a few seconds, adjusting to the dim light and not
wanting to progress forward from the safety of the door. I felt
like I was entering a dark dungeon and an evil presence lurked
within, waiting to terrorize me.
    For God’s
sake! Pull yourself together, girl.
    “ Come
closer, Miss Preston. We can hardly conduct our business at this
distance,” my client said quietly, in a tone that implied he was
smiling and amused by my reluctance to move.
    Well that's
just brilliant. Now I’ve embarrassed myself.
    Forcing a deep
breath, and determined to rectify my poor start to the meeting, I
made my way forth into the gloomy room. The heavy drapes were
drawn, and apart from the sharp glare of a laptop, there was only
one other source of light in the room. A black floor lamp stood in
the far corner but didn’t provide much in the way of illumination.
I noticed the walls of the room were plain and unadorned, and there
was little furniture other than a filing cabinet and a large
bookcase which spanned the entire length of one wall. Situated in
the middle of the windows were a desk and two black chairs. And
seated at this desk was my client.
    Sebastian D.
Shaw, esquire.
    His face was
obscured in deep shadow but I could see enough to ascertain his
good looks. His body was more clearly defined in the light pooling
around the desk. He was wearing a black shirt, open at the neck,
and a fitted black waistcoat. Sebastian Shaw was the kind of man
who belonged in a suit. But not just any suit. I imagined a
designer label at the higher end of the spectrum. His shirt sleeves
were neatly rolled up to mid forearm, giving a more casual and
comfortable appeal to his smart attire, and exposing what appeared
to be a full sleeve of tattoos on one arm and some on the other. He
was pale skinned, but of substantial build. The powerful upper arms
and shoulders didn’t escape my notice. Nor did the large hands that
rested upon the ebony desk. He seemed to be slumped a little in the
chair, his head angled downward. At his right-hand side was a
cut-crystal balloon glass containing a small measure of brandy. I
hoped he hadn’t drunk too much. That would be an unpromising start
to the meeting.
    “ What a
pleasure it is to meet you,” he said, his voice rumbling through
me, its timbre low and penetrating. He stuck his hand out across
the desk.
    “ And you
too, sir.” I was surprised that he made no effort to stand in
greeting. I found that to be cold and unnerving. I took his offered
hand, shaking it briefly and firmly. His hand was cool, soft and
pleasant to the touch.
    “ I must
confess I was expecting Richard.”
    “ My
father's busy. I’m sorry to disappoint you.”
    He laughed at
my reply and I tensed at the sound. I wasn’t trying to be funny. I
watched as he picked up the brandy and after swirling it around the
glass, slowly and expertly, he lifted it to his mouth and took a
small sip. The silence hung in the air between us.
    “ On the
contrary. And please, take a seat,” he said, gesturing with his
hand. I perched my backside on the edge of the leather seat, like a
bird ready to take flight. Then