by Poppy Flynn
Grasping hold of her dear face in both his hands, he stared deep into pale, intriguing eyes that showed him everything and betrayed her vulnerability. "I can promise you one thing," he rasped out hoarsely. "And I want you to believe it, not because I say it, but because it's the truth."
She nodded her head in acceptance, waiting for his decree.
"Whatever happens, wherever this leads us, I will never lie to you!"
A tremulous smile trembled on her lips and she raised one hand to cover his before pressing a sweet kiss into his palm. "I know that, Christian, and it's all I can ask for. Whatever else has gone before, your honesty was the one thing I always knew I could rely on, because I already know you have never lied to me."
Chapter 16
Trinity looked around at the many familiar faces that smiled and welcomed her like a long-lost friend. She was surprised, if she was honest with herself. It had been a long time and these people held no allegiance to her. She had been nothing more than a sometime escort to one of their own, who had failed to even earn herself the title of girlfriend, never mind anything more.
It had been surprisingly fun to shop for a fancy frock for this charity ball. So very different from her typical wardrobe these days, which consisted of outrageous fetish wear, on the one hand, countered by strictly comfort wear on the other. Leggings, tunics, maybe a flowing summer dress or two. She didn't even like to wear jeans. She spent so much time squeezed and contorted into rigid, boned corsets, unforgiving leather, sweaty, skin-tight PVC, and ridiculously high skyscraper heels, that her free time clothing deliberately included only the cosy and informal.
This dress incorporated a little bit of both, the glitz and the glamour, as well as the comfort. It was a supple satiny sheath that hugged her body but was still loose enough to float over the few curves she had. It was a rich silver colour that enhanced the unusual colour of her eyes. It fell with the grace and glide of a waterfall, and the fabric was heavy enough to make it slinky despite the fact that it flared from the hip into an A line skirt. The cowl neck showed her small bosom to its best advantage and the tiny shoestring straps showed off the tan on her shoulders and back with stunning contrast.
Of course, her bright red, spikey hair wasn't quite the fashion amongst all the elaborate coifs and glamorous updos, but she'd softened the look by smoothing it down and teasing out a few silky tendrils around her face so that it looked sleek and sophisticated instead. A spray of glittering silk flowers threaded from behind her left ear and sweeping across the nape of her neck, disguised the boyish style and she'd even muted the colour with a rich mahogany wash in, wash out, colour tinting shampoo. It wasn't that she was ashamed of the woman she had become—far from it—she was more confident in herself than she had ever been in her life. It was more that she felt an instinctive urge to hold a part of herself back from this crowd. Here, in this environment, with these people, she was Tara again and she felt the inexplicable urge not to muddle the two personas from her past and her present. This was a different reality from the life she lived day to day. Trinity could barely even explain to herself, never mind anybody else, her need to keep a distance between the two, though it was likely that Micah would understand and have some extensive, convoluted explanation. Not that she needed it. She just needed to stay true to her beliefs, and her belief was that Trinity and Tara needed to stay in their own separate realities until such a time that a compromise could be found to unite the two. Or maybe it was just that she feared slipping backward into a time where her whole life had revolved around somebody other than herself, until she had lost herself completely. Not just her identity, but her likes and dislikes, her hopes and dreams, her education, and her future had all become an extension of someone else, until the person that she had been ceased to exist in her own entity. It had been hard to make her way back from that, having given herself over so completely to another person's fulfilment. She didn't want to find herself back there all over again. Perhaps it was as simple as that.
The evening was a whirl of wining and dining, dancing and schmoozing. Trinity was pleased to find she hadn't lost her touch and, despite having spent the past five years in a kink club, she could still talk big business. It didn't really matter what type it was at the end of the day, she realised assuredly. Buying, selling, promotion, marketing, and the all-important profit margin were all the same whatever the business was.
She felt comfortable with the company and the surroundings and even the small talk, even when Christian was plucked away from her, which was often, but not exactly unexpected.
It might be for charity, in theory, but it was still all about contacts and networking at the end of the day. It was simply dressed up in a fancy bow, just like the guests who attended. But good causes still benefitted, so everyone was happy.
Christian took advantage of the post introduction lull to pull her onto the dance floor. He had always been a skilful dancer, but this time, there seemed to be an added layer to their steps, a different kind of intimacy. Yes, intimacy, that was what it was. And freedom. Christian pulled her close and held her tight, nuzzled her neck and let his fingers roam, palming her buttocks and pressing her to him, letting her feel the tell-tale bulge in his groin.
Trinity realised that, although she had been in this exact same position dozens of times in the past, Christian had always held back before, careful not to let people think she was anything more than a friend and an escort, even during the years after they had become lovers.
She wondered how she was supposed to take this new development. Or was she just overthinking things? Christian had been honest and upfront when he'd told her he wanted their relationship to continue outside the contract they had and to see where it might lead. Although they hadn't really discussed it any further or come to any kind of specific agreement, it looked like he was forging ahead with that plan for everyone to see.
"You look stunning tonight," he told her, not for the first time. He had been generous with his compliments since he'd arrived in his limo to pick her up. That was something else that was new, too, and Trinity realised she was entirely guilty of imagining that everything that was transpiring now would slip into the old mould of the relationship they used to share. She was annoyed with herself for that. Hadn't she just given herself the pep talk about how she shouldn't risk falling back into being Tara? And yet her expectations were that things would be the same as they had been before, even though Christian had already told her he wanted more. Why the hell was she trying to sabotage herself…or was it just a 'muscle memory' kind of thing?
Christian nipped lightly on her neck, enough to bring her back to the conversation at hand. "You're thinking very loudly," he chuckled. "Aren't you enjoying yourself?"
"Actually, I am," she replied truthfully. "I didn't expect so many people to remember me, so it's been easy to slip back into the role."
He swung her around the dance floor on experienced feet, looking hot as hell in his custom-made tuxedo, the tan on his neck a stark contrast to the pristine white of his shirt collar. It drew her eye and made her want to lick him there…and a few other places, too.
"I don't know why you're surprised. People liked you and appreciated your knowledge and judgment. Believe me, there was no shortage of people who had no qualms in telling me what a huge mistake I'd made when I married Bianca. For a while there, I really did think I'd made career suicide."
Trinity was quiet for a moment. Was that why he wanted her with him again, because she had been a positive influence on his career?
No! Stop it! she told that nagging little voice. She needed to stop second-guessing every little thing that was said and done. Christian had always been honest with her. If that was what he wanted, he wouldn't have hesitated to say so. Besides, these were things that were done and finished years ago. They had no bearing on anything that was going on today. She had to get out of this destructive spiral of self-doubt.
Sure, it was a case of once bitten twice shy, but being reticent
was a whole lot different from being insecure.
Christian mistook her silence. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I shouldn't have spoiled things by bringing up my ex-wife."
This time, Trinity did flinch at his words. Just the thought of Christian with a wife, someone who had shared his life and his name, however briefly, brought a wave of ugly, irrational jealousy and resentment crashing over her which was humiliating in its pettiness. Usually, she liked to think of herself as better than that; she certainly hoped she was anyway. But the fact remained that she would rather he just refer to the woman by her name so that she didn't have to acknowledge the true relationship they had shared, not matter how short lived it had been.
"It's not that," Trinity replied, settling on an abbreviated version of the truth…or at least the truth as it had been before he had mentioned Bianca. "I'm just having a little bit of trouble melding the past and the present. These people still think of me as Tara, and that's not who I am anymore, and neither is it who I want to be. It's just one of those things I have to come to terms with in my own time."
Since Christian didn't know how to respond to that, he remained silent until the song ended. He chose to hold her close, instead, and hope he could convey his understanding and sincerity by touch alone, so that maybe she'd feel a little more secure within the circle of his arms. They had a way to go yet; he didn't kid himself on that. He was honest enough and mature enough to realise that he had damaged something inside Trinity and what resided there now was fragile and needed nurturing. But those were things he could only prove with time and the absolute, enduring commitment, which he had failed her with the first time around.
She said she was a sure thing, and she might have given him a second chance, but Christian wasn't arrogant enough, these days, to believe that she would wait around if he messed up a second time. That, at least, was one thing he had Bianca to thank for—she had successfully cured him of that particular stupidity.
Trinity was standing at the dessert bar, wondering if she had any room for a third selection from the delicious and decadent selection when a woman she recognised as another businessman's wife came to join her.
"God, it's just too much, isn't it? I think I've gained ten pounds just looking at this spread!" the woman groaned exaggeratedly.
Trinity grinned back at her. The woman had curves in all the right places but wasn't a stick insect by any stretch of the imagination. She wore the body she'd been blessed with proudly and didn't strike Trinity as the type who starved herself unnecessarily.
"I think you're safe as long as you don't inhale too much," she joked back.
"Yeah, you're right. I'm just trying to decide how much overtime I'm going to have to pay my physical trainer, if I indulge any more. I've already clocked up an extra glass of champagne and a rather decadent cocktail along with my last indulgence from the dessert bar. Oh, sod it!" she declared, reaching over and adding two tiny morsels to a plate then eyeing them considerately before she huffed out a defeated breath and brought her attention back to Trinity.
"You're Tara, aren't you?" she enquired, her head canted to one side. "I'm Katherine…well, Katie, actually, but always Katherine at these swanky dos."
Trinity immediately liked the woman, who looked to be in her mid-thirties, and her blunt sense of humour drew her like a magnet.
"Actually, it's Taryn," she found herself saying, much to her own surprise. "Tara is a nickname which Christian always uses at these dos, and not one that I'm particularly fond of," she admitted. Maybe this was that compromise she'd been trying to find.
"Urgh," Katie exaggerated the unladylike noise. "These things are so damn pretentious sometimes. You can't tell me they don't all go home with a skin full and bonk each other's brains out…well, except for Maud Engadine. I think she might crack a rib if she tried anything that passionate!" She nodded to a painfully frail old lady who Trinity knew had just turned ninety.
"I bet she was a right goer in her day, though," Katie finished with a cheeky wink, and Trinity couldn't help the bawdy laugh that erupted from her belly.
Turning back to the dessert table with a more toned down snigger as a couple of the closer patrons frowned and glanced their way, Trinity grabbed not one but two of the tasty morsels. They were only tiny anyway. Barely more than a mouthful, and it wasn't as if she had ever needed to watch her weight. In general, she ate healthily, but one of the benefits of the genetic soup which had formed her tiny stature was that it also seemed to have gifted her with a faster than normal metabolism.
"Watch out; witch alert!" Katie muttered as she crowded next to Trinity and hastily looked away from wherever she'd been gawking. "What the hell is she doing here? I thought we'd finally seen the last of that tramp."
Trinity tried to peek surreptitiously over Katie's shoulder to see whom she was referring to, but her lack of height left her with a distinct disadvantage. Not that it mattered. As soon as she caught the affected, haughty voice, which was now commenting rather rudely to her new friend, she knew she'd discovered the source.
"God, Katherine! Do you really think having more dessert is a good idea? You know all those calories are going to park themselves straight on your ass, and I don't think you can afford to pack any more down there. Lewis will be looking around for a trimmer model if you're not careful!" The voice was attached to a stunning but clearly rather nasty woman, in a skin tight, blood red dress, which left nothing to the imagination. She struck a contrived pose with her hand on the hip, which she stuck out exaggeratedly, while she deliberately flicked her long blonde hair over her bare shoulder and looked Katie up and down with bored blue eyes that telegraphed her obvious disdain.
Trinity noticed Katie's free hand fist while the other tightened around her plate before she swirled around and transformed before her very eyes.
"Bea, darling," she said in a completely contrived voice, full of blasé nonchalance. "Please don't imagine that I have anything to worry about there. Lewis just adores having something to hold onto." She swept her hand deliberately over her shapely hip. "And while he appreciates a nice rack, he's one of those old-fashioned sorts who prefers it to be completely natural." Katie looked down at her generous cleavage before treating the blonde to a wide, saccharine smile and a pointed look at her, obviously, silicone enhanced figure, which had her looking like a real-life Jessica Rabbit, with her admittedly spectacular bust and impossibly small waist.
"Well, don't say I didn't warn you."
The woman's retort sounded almost like a threat, and Trinity frowned, wondering if she had imagined it until Katie muttered "bitch"' under her breath as she watched the other woman slink off from beneath lowered lashes.
"Problems?" Trinity asked mildly. She didn't like to get muddled up in anyone else's drama, but Katie was clearly bristling with outrage and upset, and there was a suspicious sheen of moisture in her eyes that Trinity didn’t think had anything to do with her temper.
Katie took a deep breath and steered Trinity over to a vacant seating arrangement on the periphery of the festivities, which was conveniently flanked by a large potted palm that afforded them a modicum of privacy.
Katie rummaged in her beaded clutch and withdrew a tissue that she proceeded to dab her eyes with. "Sorry," she sniffled. "I'm not usually prone to this kind of nonsense." She waved a hand in indication, but Trinity wasn't sure if she was referring to the upset or the exchange that had preceded it. Maybe it was the whole lot.
Katie huffed out a breath that blew out her bangs. "It's just her!" she referenced the woman she had addressed as Bea. "Sorry, we were just having a light-hearted chat about dessert and, now, here I am falling apart on you. You must think I'm a complete flake."
"Of course not," Trinity reassured. "And I'm right here if you want to offload and get it off your chest."
"She tried to seduce my husband," Katie confided, her voice wavering until it broke on the final word. Trinity gasped and placed a comforting hand over Katie's where it gripped the arm of the chair
, her knuckles showing white. "I'm normally a really confident person, but it's like she has some sick ability to zero in on whatever vulnerabilities a person has, and then she'll either stab you or manipulate things for her own ends. Either way, you can guarantee that when she finds it, she doesn't hesitate to stick the knife in. You might not even feel it right away, but the outcome only depends on what she wants from you."
Katie turned her hand over and squeezed Trinity's with her own, nodding across the room to where the woman in question was now hanging all over Christian.
"Oh God!" Katie muttered agitatedly. "Please don't let her get her talons into Christian again. I'm surprised you didn't say anything to her, yourself, you know, Taryn. You're obviously a bigger person than I am."
Trinity felt her stomach lurch and only barely acknowledged Katie's words. Her attention trained, instead, on how Christian had his head dipped as if he was listening intently and how the woman's hands clutched hold of him, her body arching into his as if she knew him intimately.
Christian was quiet on the way home. He had come to find her shortly after Katie had the run in with the blonde who had then set her sights on Christian.
Trinity had watched them quietly, nausea bubbling in her stomach and threatening to have her revisit the too many desserts she had indulged in during the evening.
Giving a quick glance around the ballroom—was he looking to see if she had spotted the two of them—he had grasped the woman's arm and hurried her out of sight. It had seemed like an age before he reappeared, thankfully alone this time, though it had probably only been ten minutes. Nevertheless, he had sought her out upon his return and told her he needed to leave, and it was clear from his withdrawn demeanour that he wasn't planning on staying over with her tonight, as he had every other night since the Sunday he had turned up at her apartment. He didn't provide any reason or excuse for his hasty exit as he pulled up outside her apartment block, just bid her a somewhat strained goodbye, without so much as a kiss goodnight, before he drove away in such a hurry that she could hear his tyres spinning,