Sofie gained entrance to one of the world's most exclusive clubs. This was the first of her three visits. All she had to do now was get into Philip's head and extract the information she needed. Secrets about one of his regular clients, a member of parliament so ruthless that Sofie was determined to expose her crimes and stop her from running for prime minister.
But all logic and rational reasons for her visit suddenly evaporated when Philip hooked her arm into his and led her up the granite staircase. His soft manicured fingers lightly touched the back of her hand as it rested on his forearm. She could feel the powerful muscles underneath the elegant soft fabric of his jacket. So close to him, she smelled the expensive aftershave that opened her senses to the warm intoxicating scent of masculinity.
As they arrived at the top of the stairs leading toward the penthouse wing, her breathing had become rapid and her heart was racing. And it had little to do with the physical exhaustion of climbing to the double-height space.
"This way." he said, pointing down a dimly lit hallway.
His quiet confidence kindled flames deep within her heart. And his suggestive glances made them roar to a reckless fire before she could stamp them out. He swiped his keycard at the end of the floor and held the door open for her to enter his bedroom suite.
She hesitated. This feels like a first date. How did he create such a special atmosphere with just a short walk? And worse, why did it feel like the date was successful? Like she wanted to take it to the next level already?
"We have three visits." Sofie hedged. "Today I just want to talk."
Cutting off any further advancement from this skilled courtesan was the safest option. The necessary option, because she did not trust herself around him.
"Very well. This is your space and I am at your command, however you see fit."
He smiled, and the rehearsed line felt somehow utterly genuine to Sofie.
The room was dark, with small light sources accentuating the exclusive decor. It felt cosy yet delectable, relaxing yet wildly stimulating.
"Can I offer you something to drink?" He pointed to a small coffee table with a heavy glass decanter and two scotch glasses. "I catered for Mrs Gartner's preferences but I have other options, if you prefer something lighter. Champagne? Or a Tonic Water, perhaps?"
"Yes, tonic sounds great. Thanks."
Sofie started to relax. A casual non-alcoholic drink? Perhaps this does not have to feel like a date after all.
He placed the sparkly drink in her hand, cooling down her overheated senses. As he guided her to the large leather sofa, she felt the situation crowding in on her. But instead of seating himself next to her he took the armchair opposite, giving her space.
"What would you like to talk about, Mrs…" he paused, "I don't actually know your name."
There was no sense of embarrassment in his voice. To him this seemed an amusement; an entertaining diversion from the routine.
Good! Maybe he lets his guard down and I get all the information I need today. Avoiding a second visit was certainly her preference, even if a small part of her would be utterly disappointed.
"You can call me Sofie." She smiled at him, slowly regaining her confidence.
"I prefer last names." he said, crooking his head dangerously.
There was no way she would give him her real name. 'Sofia Black' was a well known journalist, writing hard-hitting exposés for the major newspapers around the world. Knowing who she was would jeopardize her investigation. And worse, would risk exposing her identity, which she kept well hidden from the world. Over the last three years she busted drug cartels, rogue banks and illegal corporations. There were people out there searching for Sofia Black. People who wanted revenge.
Instead she had prepared an identity specifically for this assignment. It was the name written on her medical certificates and how Mrs Gartner knew her.
"It's Sofie Carter."
"Is that Mrs Carter?"
"No, I am not married." She paused, watching an emotion rush across his eyes, too quick for her to interpret. Ignoring it she added, "What is your last name?"
"Let's keep it at 'Philip'. It makes things easier."
"Easier? Or more controllable?"
Calling him 'Philip' kept luring her into a deception of intimacy, while the formality of 'Mrs Carter' had the power of dousing any illusion of emotional attachment. Just saying her last name gave Philip the strategic tool to fine-tune the heat-level of their interaction.
"Emotions can run high at times, Miss Carter. Having the option to dial it back is important. Important for both."
"For both? So you'll miss her then? Mrs Gartner?"
"Of course I will miss her. She was my client for almost two years."
A sudden anger flooded Sofie. Why do the likes of Mrs Gartner get to enjoy Philip's company. Command him to make them feel like he made her feel right now. Take their pleasure with him. Just because they had the means and the opportunity? Well, tonight she had the opportunity too. She just needed to give into her desires. Get a grip! You have a job to do here!
"Are all your clients like Mrs Gartner?" she said.
"What do you mean?"
"In their late 50, married, rich?"
Mrs Kerry certainly fell into this category. MP Kerry was 56, married to a union boss and had enough lobbyists behind her to have a good shot at becoming PM. She had the power to reel people in. The charisma to keep them fascinated. Some would say 'in love', which forms a loyalty that was hard to break through. But she did not get there playing fair. She had skeletons in her cellar and was not afraid to get more blood on her hand to advance.
"Miss Carter, all women are beautiful and age is not taking away from that. Having disposable income and spending it on company is not automatically bad, neither is infidelity. It all comes down to the individual circumstances."
Not accepting such a canned answer she probed "You have hundreds of women on your books. Powerful women. Are you telling me they are all misunderstood tortured souls?"
This was an investigation, after all, and she needed to find out how willing he was to talk.
"Deep down we are all social creatures; seeking a physical connection with one another. Irrespective of how powerful someone might appear on the outside."
"Are all your answers going to be rehearsed lines? Or will you give me an honest answer? Tell me what you really think of the women who have the means and callousness to summon your company."
Philip leaned back in his armchair, studying her in silence as he let the minutes stretch; utterly comfortable with having the aggressive accusation hang in the air between them.
This isn't working.
"I am sorry." Sofie backed off, to change her tactics. "I imagine you are not very often quizzed about your other clients."
"Indeed. Never. In fact, it is an offence that warrants instant termination of the club membership." he said evenly, letting her precarious situation sink in.
"Are you throwing me out then?" There was a slight hitch in her voice that she had not intended to be there. A betrayal of how important this was to her. Did Philip pick up on it?
"No." he said with a twinkle in his eyes. "You did not do the induction, so you don't know the rules. And there is no point in doing it now, since there are only two more visits left."
"What if I want to extend? Become a member?"
"I don't think you will." he said with a cocky smile on his face.
"Because I won't be able to afford your fees?"
"Perhaps that too." His eyes sliding over her blazer. She had made an effort tonight. But her department store outfit was a far cry from the designer clothes of his usual clientele. She uncomfortably shifted under his gaze before being pinned down by dark eyes meeting hers. "Because, Miss Carter, you strike me as the kind of person who thinks emotional attachment is needed to fully enjoy physical pleasure."
Heat flushed her cheeks. Why was she embarrassed? This was the norm, wasn't it?
"And you, of course, think emotions are not necessary?" she said, forcing herself to sound as cool and collected as Philip. "And how would you know, I might ask? Whether sex is better with or without love? Have you ever been in love?"
He did not answer. He only watched her, amused. While she was desperately fending off visions of Philip satisfying scores of women in this very room without the messiness of emotions ever getting involved. He was probably right, though. How could simply falling in love ever trump true skill?
"I see," she said, breaking the silence that started to feel incriminating, "another rule, I suppose. No personal questions?"
"Yes, Miss Carter." He paused before adding "Though it is an interesting question. And I don't actually know whether a skilled partner is better than a partner in love. It strikes me that the combination of both is the ideal. I hope to experience that one day. I have never been in love."
Yes! This is progress. He had finally given her some information that brought the case forward. He was not in love with the MP, despite her power and allure. No emotions should make it easier to extract information. This morsel of personal information meant also that he was not as impenetrable as he appeared. She just needed to chip away at his fortress to eventually break through to his secrets.
But when she looked at Philip the kind of victory she felt was also written all over his face. Her reaction must have given him some vital insights as well.
With dread she realized that there were two people playing this game.