"You should have been here half an hour ago."

He turned around and she was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed.

"Sorry, pigeon. Had to stop and get fucked."

Her face tightened. She smoothed a hand over her blonde hair, perfectly pulled back into a chignon.

"Don't use that language with your four o' clock."

He turned back to the open closet and inspected its contents. Savile Row suits, leather jackets, Malo cashmere sweaters, and Armani tuxedoes all hung neatly according to color. She brushed past him and pulled down a thin light blue sweater and white button down oxford shirt.

"Here, wear these. And jeans. She'll want the schoolboy look."

He snorted derisively but pulled out a pair of jeans from the bureau and dropped his towel to change. She turned her back.

"What's the girl like?"

"Young, sheltered, shy. You'll have to be a bit more restrained. Think you can handle that?"

"There's nothing I can't handle."

He finished dressing and started to comb his hair. He was satisfied with what the mirror reflected. A man at his pinnacle. Strong angular cheekbones and a soft mouth made for sweet kisses and pretty words. When he reached for the bottle of hair product, she stopped his hand with her own.

"None of that. Not too polished."

She ran a hand through his still damp hair to make the curls appear.

"There. Perfect."

He grabbed her wrist.

"That's enough."

She dropped her hand and stepped back. Picked up the package on the desk and tossed it to him.

"What's this?"

"It came for you today. A token from Felice."

Ah, Felice. Silly bint. Just another one of his regular bored society wives that married too young to men too old. He unwrapped it and stared down with amusement at the Patek Phillipe watch.

"Good Lord, how tacky."

She laughed.

"Add it to your collection."

He tossed it carelessly onto the desk and pulled on some leather topsiders. Turned around for her inspection.

"Well love? Do I pass muster?"

"You'll do."

He smirked and blew her an air kiss. She ignored him and looked at her diamond-studded watch.

"God, where's Angel? He should be back by now."

He shrugged.

"Time flies when you're getting buggered."

Her eyes narrowed.

"Really, William. Leave your questionable wit at the door when you meet her, hmmm?"

"As you wish."

He followed her out to the greenhouse. Stood and waited as she took a small pair of silver scissors and cut a white rosebud from one of the potted bushes. She trimmed the thorns and pressed it into his hand.

"Not red?"

She shook her head.

"Not the type. White for friendship, felicity. She's that kind."

He nodded. That kind. The young bewildered ones that got shunted from winter castles in Gstaad, spring manors in Provence and summer villas in Florence. The kind that saw their hired help more than their husbands.

"Profile?"

"Her name's Willow Kristophe-Rosenberg Finn. French convent educated. Married at nineteen to Riley Finn. Father heads the media empire Krisros. He's the eldest son of the Kristophe-Rosenbergs of Prague."

"Riley Finn? The corporate raider that was under investigation by the SEC?"

"Yes. He was cleared, of course. From quite a good family. His father was ambassador to Brazil at one point."

"Of course. And her mother? Any siblings?"

"Mother was Sheila Von Arenburg of the Johannesburg Von Arenburgs. I'm sure you've heard of that family."

"Ah, yes. South African diamond mines."

"Quite. The Von Arenburgs are distant relations of the Danish royal family. And no, no siblings. Her mother died in childbirth."

"Poor little rich girl."

She smirked.

"The poster child. Do behave yourself."

"Naturally."

She looked at her watch again.

"Go onto the terrace. She should be here any minute."

He brought her hand to his lips. Before he could kiss her palm, she jerked away.

"You are so beautiful today."

"Save it for the girls."

He chuckled.

"Can I not give my favorite girl a kiss? You really do look lovely. Is that a new dress?"

"No, you cannot. And yes, it is."

"So glad to see that the money you make off my cock is being put to good use."

Ah, that got a reaction. For a moment, she looked like an avenging angel ready to smite him dead. But then her shoulders relaxed and she slipped back into her customary languid posture and laughed lightly.

"How you do carry on, William."

He winked and made a dramatic bow.

"I try."

With that he walked off.

He was too glib. It could become a liability. She had thought of letting him go many times but he was just too valuable.

The doorbell rang, interrupting her thoughts. She walked to the door and opened it. The girl was standing there fidgeting with the bottom of her green silk top. It did not suit her at all. Both too childish and too obviously expensive.

"Mrs. Finn. So nice to see you again. Do come in. William is waiting for you on the terrace."

The girl flushed again.

"Oh...thank you."

She threaded an arm through the girl's and steered her towards the terrace. When they reached the glass doors she could hear the girl's sharp indrawn breath. She followed her gaze. Perfect. He was standing there in profile, staring at the sky.

"Enjoy."

The girl only nodded in response, transfixed by him.

She let go of the girl's arm and backed away.

***

When the doors opened, he turned around, soft tentative smile already in place.

"Hello."

"Um, hello."

Normally upon meeting a girl, he would kiss her hand. But this one looked too jumpy. Quite pretty actually with dark red hair in a simple ponytail and wide eyes. He repressed a shudder as he took in her silk top embroidered with garish violet pansies. Proof positive that money, no matter how much of it, could not buy taste.

He held out his hand for her to shake. He noticed her fingers were trembling slightly as she touched his hand with hers. Her handshake was weak and overly pliant. He let his fingers drift over her palm as he ended the handshake. And noted with satisfaction her shiver of desire.

"It's very nice to meet you."

"Y-you too."

"I'm looking forward to spending time together um..."

"Oh! Willow. Yes, that's my name."

She blushed a delicate pink and he chuckled. Rather endearing little thing. In a childish sort of way.

"I'm looking forward to spending time with you Willow."

She ducked her head and fiddled with the thin gold bracelet on her wrist. He noticed that she had not worn her wedding ring.

"Thank you...William."

"Please, call me Spike."

She giggled nervously.

"Alright. Spike."

He held out the rosebud and watched her eyes light up. Good Lord, she was easy.

"Is that for me?"

"Of course, love. May I put it in your hair?"

"Yes."

He walked to stand behind her, making sure he brushed her arm with his on the way. He tucked the rosebud in her elastic ponytail holder.

"There. That looks lovely."

She reached up to touch it. Caressed the silky furled petals with her small fingers.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure."

He held out a hand.

"Shall we?"

"Where are we going?"

He smiled shyly and observed her as she blinked. Entranced by his boyish demeanor. He could tell she was eating it up like honey. It was obvious that it had been quite a while indeed since she'd been a man's center of attention. He almost felt sorry for her.

"Wherever you'd like Willow."

She took his offered hand hesitantly.

As he led her back inside, he saw a flash of blonde hair and a slender figure retreating down the stairs. Buffy. He felt a curious sense of satisfaction as he realized she must have been watching them the entire time.

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