Chandelier (Tarnished Crowns Trilogy Book 1)

by Annie Dyer

  “I’m so glad I could fly out and join you!”

  I can see Ben smirking out of the corner of my eye. He’s warmed up since the market, spoken more words. Given me more. He knows how I’ve always felt about Elise, how our relationship springs between good friends to almost rivals, but for what I don’t know.

  “It’s good to have you here.” I don’t glance at my brother, who’s checking something on his phone. Possibly a message from Genevieve.

  She pulls herself out of the pool. “You look well. Brown already. And your hair’s gone blonder.”

  It has. Some distant ancestor has granted me skin that tanned and hair that was naturally fair, making me look anything but Scottish. After barely a week on the island, my hair’s almost white from the sun and my tan golden. Elise will struggle to not burn and I know she’s jealous of my tone, which was why she continually refers to it.

  “This is where my life’s easy.” Kind of. I’d never had a girls’ holiday, where you could spend a week or two weeks away escaping life completely. Today had been one the closest times I’d had to anything resembling normality and even though it had been a quick choice this morning, Ben and his team had already planned for it.

  Making a girl’s dreams come true.

  “It suits you.” She’s in a good mood. “What plans do you have for the next few days?”

  I sit down by the pool and dangle my legs in it. Ben sits down on a chair and frowns. I’m trying to keep from watching him, knowing that Elise will come to some mental conclusion.

  “I plan to have no plans. More reading. Maybe a yoga session tomorrow. Or a swim in the sea and some snorkelling.”

  “How about a party?”

  She’s only just arrived and she’s wanting to impinge her agenda which is typical Elise.

  Lennox looks up, puts his phone next to him. “I think that’s what we’re trying to escape from, Lise.”

  She pulls her face, reminding me of when she was thirteen and didn’t get her way. “But this is a perfect place for having asoiree. And you can book a bartender, have a few cocktail lessons to warm people up. It would be so much fun. Come on, you only live once!”

  “That isn’t what we’ve come away for.” He doesn’t look impressed.

  “Do you know who else is on the island?”

  I do. There are three actors and a politician, a media mogul and his model wife. There will be others too. It’s why we come here. We can be normal, unextraordinary.

  “It’s great way to meet people. Blair, you know you want to.”

  “No thanks, Elise. But I know Genevieve has parties every other evening or something like that. You could always get Lennox to take you.”

  She sighs, as if she’s had enough of tolerating us. “So what are we doing this evening?”

  I stand up, unable to tolerate the idea of having to entertain her. I have no idea if Lennox has invited her or not, or if she’s mentioned to him that I’ve told her I’ll be lonely or something out here. Elise is a master manipulator.

  “Michael Voigt is coming over with his wife and her sister.” Lennox glances at me. “I’m sorry to spring it on you, Blair, and if you can’t make it that that’s fine.”

  I know the man who’ll be our dinner guest. He’s older than us by about fifteen years and advises the US president. He’s a staunch campaigner for the reunification of Scotland with England and I’ve no doubt that he’ll be discussing funding with Lennox.

  This is why my brother has arrived here early.

  “That’s fine. I’ll do cocktails and dinner. I assume you’ll be out golfing with him tomorrow?” I look at Elise as I ask the question.

  She pouts without thinking. This isn’t for effect, this is because she’s genuinely thinking that she can spend time with him out here, that while she’s here he’ll want to be with her.

  My brother isn’t interested in Elise as a partner. I know the sort of woman he sees as being his future queen and it isn’t her. There’s a woman who would’ve been part of the British royal family; polite, quiet, born for the role. They’ve met three times and she was enchanted by him, as most people are. He’s just not ready yet.

  “More than likely. And the day after I think I’m joining them on their boat.”

  He’s not going to invite me because he knows I wouldn’t want to go.

  “Will you want me to attend that?” Elise looks at him with come fuck me eyes.

  Lennox shakes his head. “It’ll be boring. You’ll be better staying here where you can do what you want.” He stands up. “I’ll get changed for dinner.”

  There’s a fragile silence as he walks away, not that Lennox will pay any heed. Elise looks at me, her aura red and blaring.

  “Did Lennox invite you?” I turn to her as she gets out of the pool.

  “I mentioned that you were probably missing having someone to talk to…” Her body is toned and most men’s dream, the result of daddy’s bank account and an expensive personal trainer, because her job isn’t overly taxing.

  “You mean you got him to suggest that you should come out here.”

  She shrugs. “Not really. I said I had a few days’ holiday to take and that you might want some company. He was really enthusiastic.”

  “He’s been sleeping with Genevieve since he’s been here.” The words sound bitchy as they come out, poisonous. I could’ve used fucking instead of sleeping with, which would’ve been worse, I suppose.

  Elise tries to hide her hurt. “We’re not exclusive. I know that he’s not ready for that.”

  “Good. Because I know he’s not.”

  She stands up, looks over at Ben, then me. “At least we can have a chance to be together. Chat. Be friends like we used to.”

  I instantly feel bad, because she isn’t putting on an act. This is the Elise I was friends with. Am friends with.

  “We can. As long as you don’t mind lying around here all day, because I’m not intending on doing much. Or having any parties.” Or telling you about Ben.

  She smiles and leaves to go to whichever room she’s taken over, leaving me with my security.

  “Smooth.” His smile is there now and not for the first time today. Whatever happened during the storm has cleared more than the air, some of it, at least.

  “She’s going to end up heartbroken and pissed off.” Because I knew her. I’ve always known her. “And then she’ll be dangerous.”

  “I know.” His words are simple and brief. “Try to put her off him.”

  “Then she accuses me of being jealous that I’ll never be queen and she could be.” Since we’d been children this has been her go to. What irritated her most is that I never reacted, because being queen had never been my wish.

  “Speak with Lennox. Or I will.”

  “He might take it better from you.”

  “He won’t if he sees me with my hands on you. Like they were today.” He’s standing now, hands in his pockets.

  It’s that time of day when everything looks beautiful in the light, Hollywood hour. The dying rays of the sun cast their last blast of energy dousing us all in gold. Ben looks like he belongs here, bathed in light.

  “Have dinner with us tonight.”

  “I’m the hired help.”

  “Technically. But I can ask you as my childhood friend, just like Elise will be there.”

  He isn’t saying no. And if he wanted to, he would. No one makes Ben do anything. Even me.

  “What will Lennox say?”

  “I don’t give a shit what Lennox says and in all honesty, he probably won’t either. He’s going to be too fixated on Michael Voigt.” This was true. And my brother didn’t interfere unless it was something to do with politics.

  Ben doesn’t say anything. He looks too serious, too worried and I wonder if there’s something about our dinner guest he’s not telling me, which wouldn’t be a surprise.

  “What do you know?”

  “I’m interested in finding out more about Voigt. He’s got very stron
g connections to an individual in England that we’ve got our eye on.”

  A potential threat then.

  “Does Lennox know?”

  “He’s been told.”

  Which meant he was dismissing it as being nothing, something he did when he was fixated.

  “So you’ll come to dinner?” It stung that if he said yes, it wouldn’t be because of me. It was because he was doing his job.

  “I’ll be there.”

  The dress I opt for is sleek and clings, and I only choose it once I know that what we’re eating is light and won’t make me look like a snake that’s just had its dinner. It’s clingy enough that I can’t wear underwear and there’s a split that results in a mental note not to wear it if I’m going to encounter William Goldsmith. I know I’ll probably sit next to Ben, and I also know that part of the reason I’ve chosen this dress is because I can’t wear underwear. The thrill of knowing it, of maybe letting him know that, makes my centre swell.

  I head downstairs when I hear voices, clear because of the lack of a breeze. Michael Voigt isn’t someone I’ve met before, but I’ve seen his picture often enough to know immediately that’s him. He’s tall, elegant looking, with round spectacles – because they’re not glasses – perched on the end of his nose. His wife is blonde, her hair piled up high on her head, and she looks sunburned. Her sister is going to cause Elise problems and I can already see the painted smile on Elise’s face before she’s finished her Long Island Iced Tea.

  Voigt greets me by my title and I automatically tell him to call me Blair. We’re not at the castle, there’s no ceremony. If he perceives this as being a friendly gesture, one of relations becoming closer, then that’s fine.

  I’m introduced to his wife, Melissa, and the sister, Letitia, known as Letty. The usual chat begins; houses, clothes, children, schools, Scotland… I’m sure that if I sleep talk, this is what comes out.

  “Can I get you another drink?”

  I’m startled by Ben’s voice in my ear.

  “Please. Surprise me.”

  He grins, a shit-eating one, knowing that he’s already surprised me.

  “Always.”

  He strides over to the outside bar where the island staff are surprisingly busy, given that there are only eight people present. We’re dining outside because the weather demands it, which will make it harder for me to slip away later.

  “Is that your boyfriend? Wait till the media find out.” Letty giggles, reminding me of Elise who’s talking to Lennox too much.

  “He’s my security and one of my oldest friends.”

  “So he’s single?”

  Ben sits next to me, more relaxed than I expected him to be. He’s dressed like everyone else, slacks and a shirt, only his is short sleeved and I keep looking at his forearms. His hands are huge, with long, ringless fingers, and I can’t stop remembering what it was like when he fingered me for the first time and then made me come in the maze.

  These aren’t thoughts I should be having while I’m sitting at the table with my brother, best friend and an American statesman. I push my thighs closer together, aware of how the skirt of the dress has hitched up and more aware of the liquid heat between my legs.

  Ben reaches down and rubs his thigh as the entrée is served, nodding politely at Letty, who’s talking about her last vacation in Cape Cod. I don’t think Ben gives a flying fuck about Cape Cod.

  “Have you been to Cape Cod, Blair?” Letty asks, only nibbling at the entrée.

  “Twice. It was very nice.” A non-descript description for a place I could barely remember. I’d been young, barely school-age, and it had been a family holiday. Lennox had broken his arm while we were there the second time. That was the standout.

  “You should definitely revisit.” Her attention’s called away by her sister and Ben inhales deeply.

  “Have you ever been to Cape Cod?” I murmur, my hand slipping under the table to his knee. I brush the material, lightly, just enough pressure so he knows it isn’t an accident.

  “Not really. I summered in Kabul.”

  I squeeze his knee. He doesn’t flinch.

  “One day you’ll have to tell me about it.”

  He’s silent. Frozen.

  “Do you want to know a secret?”

  He discreetly moves my hand away from him, softly putting it back on my leg. I capture his hands before he can move, making sure that no one’s attention’s on us. It isn’t. The sisters are talking between themselves and my brother is deep in conversation with Voigt.

  “If you want to tell it me.” He keeps his words low, looking at me, directing them just to me so they can’t escape into the ears of others.

  “I’m not wearing any underwear.” The words are casual. Matter of fact. As if I was talking about the weather or the melon on our plates. I move my hand away from his and he leaves it on my leg, his long fingers grazing my skin and I part my legs, just enough so that he knows.

  “Tell me, Blair, have you spent much time in the States?” Voigt’s eyes land on me just as Ben’s hand travels a little further.

  I know it will be impossible to tell what he’s doing. The way we’re sitting and the size of the table mean that we have privacy, as long as my poker face is fixed. If Ben dares to continue.

  “A little. I’ve travelled to various cities and spent some time in New York.”

  “Which cities have you been to?” His smile is genuine, as if he wants to actually know as opposed to just making small talk.

  “New Orleans, Dallas, Boise, San Fran, Vegas on one occasion. That was interesting.” In ways he wouldn’t know.

  “Which was your favourite?”

  Ben’s fingers slide further up my thigh. I part my legs, feeling the cool air where it was previously on fire. It’s still on fire.

  “New Orleans probably. I was there once during Mardi Gras and the atmosphere was amazing.”

  “Did you get any beads?” Letty giggles and I wonder if she’s picturing me exposing my breasts.

  I did get beads. I wore a mask, as did Micky, and we walked down Bourbon to a hotel with a balcony and a room rented by the hour. I still have the beads. They’re set into a ceramic frame, the picture one of NOLA at night, during Mardi Gras and in it’s a young girl with dark hair, wearing a mask.

  “Only what was gifted to me.” No need to say how they were gifted.

  “Have you visited Chicago?” Voigt smiles and I know what’s coming. Chicago is where he has his main house.

  “Twice. But only briefly.” He will know this already if he’s done his research. Chicago was one of the few times where I was caught on a date by the paparazzi, a boyfriend who could’ve been serious if I’d fallen in love with him.

  “Oh, I remember!” Letty claps her hands together. “You were dating Blake Harper.”

  Ben hands shifts under the material of my dress and his fingers tease, drawing slow, lazy circles near the apex of my thighs but never touching where I feel that glorious, unsatisfied ache.

  “Blake was an arse.” Lennox puts his cutlery down, emphasizing his point. “I had no idea why you even considered something with him.”

  He looks at me and I realise I’m going to need to shift the conversation onto someone else if Ben continues what he’s doing with his gentle torture.

  “You say that with everyone I date. And he wasn’t an arse.” My words are met with the first delve of a digit between my folds, brushing past my clit. I know Ben can feel my wetness, the slick silk between my legs coating his fingers.

  Lennox shakes his head and says nothing. It’s rare he passes comment on anyone I date, mainly because it’s so few.

  “Is this Blake Harper from Chicago?” Letty has just clicked.

  “It is.” I shoot her smile at the same time Ben cups my sex and then starts to press a finger in my pussy. He does it without tenderness, pushing in fast and rapid, the seating angle making it tight.

  I’m being fingered under the table at dinner with my brother and our Am
erican guests. My nipples pucker, tightening and I hope no one notices because I can’t blame it on a cool breeze.

  “Blake Harper’s just married an American heiress. Did you see their wedding?” Letty’s in full-blown theatrical mode now. It would be amusing if I didn’t have someone assaulting my g-spot.

  He was the first boy to touch me there and the only one to know how to play me like I was his fiddle. Ben’s callused thumb grazes my clit, pushing down on it, applying pressure. His finger thrusts inside me, not fast enough to make his arm move, but enough to take me closer and closer to the edge of the little death.

  Every time he made me come before he left he took a piece of my soul with him. I didn’t know it then, but the devil always demands a payment and since he stopped taking what I offered, I don’t think I’ve felt as alive.

  “I didn’t. I’m not one for magazines or social media.”

  Letty starts to chatter away and the topic changes to eligible bachelors. Voigt listens, amused at his wife and her sister, and even more amused when they start to talk about Lennox and who would be a suitable Scottish queen.

  All the while, I’m seated in my chair, sipping at my Aperol spritz, while the man who I was addicted to as a teenager fucks me with his fingers.

  Lennox is attempting to give reasons why he shouldn’t date anyone right now and Elise leaves the table when I start to come. I feel the shudders overtake me and I try to stifle them, while my insides pulse their way inside out. There’s a gush and a second finger; I have no idea how I’ll stand up later but I don’t care.

  I clutch the arms of the chair and wait for the orgasm to subside, hiding my moans and the breathlessness. Lennox’s words mean nothing; Elise’s return isn’t even acknowledged.

  Ben pulls out his fingers and cups my sex again, soothing it. He then takes his hand above the table and sucks on his fingers, a blatant erotic act but no one notices it.

  He catches my eye.

  I don’t look away.

  He may have ruined me in public, but I know that he won’t be standing up anytime soon and his balls will be heavy and hurting.

  Who holds the power now?