Symphony (Finding Their Muse Book 4)

by Bea Paige

  Rose and I lie together on the single bed in the room beyond my studio, shrouded in darkness. Her gentle breaths flutter across my skin, her lips burning a trail across my collarbone as she kisses me.

  “How are you holding up?” she asks me, her fingers sliding into my hair as she cups my face.

  “Like I’ve been punched in the gut.” I’ve been hurt so many times over the years by my father that you’d think I’d be numb to his hate. But I’m not numb. I’m fucking dying inside. It hurts.

  “You are worth a thousand of Viktor… more,” Rose starts, tracing my face with her fingers as though a blind woman searching the face of the man she loves… does she love me?

  “But not Erik, it would seem,” I retort, hating the sound of my jealousy but helpless to stop it.

  “It isn’t a competition, Anton,” she murmurs, brushing her lips against my closed eyelids.

  “That’s where you’re wrong. It is. It always has been, even when neither of us were aware of it.” I sigh heavily, feeling the weight of the truth pressing against my chest. My father loves Erik. He doesn’t love me.

  “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve to feel this way. You’re worth so much more than you believe.”

  She slides her leg over my thighs, hooking me against her as she sweeps her fingers over my chest, but I grab her wrist and flip her over, pinning her beneath me. Straddling her waist, I lean over pressing my forehead against hers.

  “And Erik? Am I worth more than him?” I whisper, repeating my earlier question, jealousy for the brother I’ve always loved darkening my heart once again. Over the years, I’ve always been envious of him. Loving and hating him in equal measure. I thought I’d let those feelings go but finding out that Viktor is his father too has sent me spiralling. I hate being like this, but I can’t seem to stop.

  “You are both everything,” she says softly, cupping my face in her palms.

  “That isn’t an answer, Rose,” I retort. “Am I always to live in his shadow? Do I pale in comparison?”

  “Fuck, no!” she exclaims, her fingers curling into my hair. She tries to pull me towards her, but I rear backwards out of her grasp.

  “But you do love Erik like you love Ivan?” I ask, hating the way I sound but not being able to stop. She reaches for me again, but I hold her wrists, preventing her fingers from roving over my body and distracting me.

  “Yes, I love Erik the same way I love Ivan,” she responds, gently.

  I let go of her hands and push up off the bed, backing away from Rose. I hear her scramble to sit up, her feet dropping to the floor.

  “Anton, wait,” she responds. And even though I can’t see her, I know she’s got to her feet and is searching for me in the dark. I step further away, moving as silently as possible, letting the darkness swallow me.

  “Erik had my father’s love, Ms Hadley’s, Ivan’s. He has yours,” I say, breathing heavily, trying and failing to stop the jealousy leaking from my lips. “Ivan had Svetlana’s and now he has your love. I’ve never had anyone. No-fucking-one, Rose. My mother tried to love me, but she too felt the absence of my father’s love. It killed her in the end.” I can’t help but wince at the bitterness leaching into my words.

  “You have me, Anton. My God, you have me,” she says, almost desperately, pleadingly.

  She moves towards me and I move away, side-stepping her. We dance blindly, two people relying on instinct and our other heightened senses now that we’re once again shut in the pitch black together.

  “I see the way you look at them both. Ivan who you’ve always admired, before as Luka the famous ballet dancer and now as Ivan, the man who can submit to you.”

  “Don’t do this, Anton…” she pleads, still searching for me in the dark.

  “Erik uncovered the truth about you. He was the one who finally cracked open your heart. He did something I could never do, Rose. He made you fall in love with him…”

  “Stop,” she pleads.

  This wasn’t how I envisaged our time together. This wasn’t how I wanted it to go, but I can’t seem to stop the bitterness falling from my lips. How can I compete with a man like Erik? Gifted, brave, a fighter. How can I compete with Ivan? Talented, clever, determined.

  I’d never thought I’d be this man, and honestly until this afternoon’s revelations I wasn’t. I’d been happy for them both. I am happy for them both, but I’m also fucking jealous.

  “Stop it, Anton. Stop this right now. I won’t hear you pull yourself apart, I won’t. You mean everything to me!” Rose shouts, angry now.

  “But not enough,” I mutter. I saw the way she looked at Ivan, at Erik. I know that what she feels for them is more than she’ll ever feel for me.

  “You’re wrong. So, fucking wrong,” she protests.

  I move in the darkness, stepping away from Rose as she brushes past me. “Anton, stop this!” she snaps, the air moving as she reaches out and grabs my arm. “Don’t you dare doubt me. I walked into the darkness for you. I succumbed to my deepest fears for you. I held you whilst you battled your addiction. I stayed by your side forsaking everyone else. Don’t you dare belittle how I feel for you. Don’t you fucking dare!” she shouts now, anger blazing.

  “Rose…” I start, feeling ashamed, foolish.

  “Look, I get it. You’re only human. I felt much the same way earlier when I thought Erik would leave me for Emmie. But if there’s one important thing that I’ve learnt today it’s that there’s no place for jealousy between us. If this is going to work, you need to trust in my feelings for you all. There was a time I believed I could never love another person again. Now look at me, in love with not one, but three men. Three beautiful, dark, broken men who I adore above all else and forsaking all others.” She says, her voice quavering a little at that marriage vow reference. My fucking heart soars.

  She grasps me by the shoulders walking me backwards until I hit the wall with a soft thud, then she pushes herself against me, her naked body flush against mine. “You think I would have got through that time in the cage without you? Do you honestly think that I would have survived it without you by my side? I never got to thank you, Anton, but now I’m going to… Thank you for staying with Erik and me. Thank you for looking after me when I was shot. Thank you for sharing your past with me, for being brave enough to introduce me to Amber. But most of all, thank you for loving me… because I know you do. I feel it.” She lets out an uncertain laugh, and I realise I’ve never said those words to her. Suddenly it’s important that I do, right this fucking second.

  Grasping Rose by the waist, I lift her off her feet and twist us around so that now she’s pressed against the wall. Leaning in close, my cock pressing against her stomach, I crowd her, boxing her in. “I don’t have a big speech planned, Rose. I’m not a man of many words. I’ve always expressed myself through my art but know this, I do love you. Very fucking much.”

  “Well, that’s just as well, because I love you too, you fucking idiot,” she responds, a laugh bubbling up from her lips. It bursts into the air bringing light and hope.

  We hold onto one another, not able to see each other in the dark, but trusting in the happiness that lives there. Rose trails her fingers through my hair then tugs gently on my beard. She presses a light kiss against my lips, not trying to deepen it more than a gentle caress.

  “Anton. You complicated, beautiful man. You intoxicate me. You keep me sane, grounded like no other. I need you. Ivan needs Domina, Erik needs submission, but you. You’ve always just needed me, and I love you for it.”

  Relief floods through me at the lightness of her words and the truth behind them. She fucking loves me. Laughing, I lift her up, wrapping her legs around my waist. “What now?” I ask her.

  “Now you fuck me like you mean it, Anton,” she responds, digging her nails into my skin and kissing me urgently.

  So that’s exactly what I do. I side into her welcome warmth and fuck her like a man who finds peace in the dark with the only woman who’s capable of bri
ghtening his life. Gripping her hips, I press her against the wall sliding in and out of the sleekness of her pussy whilst around us the pitch black swallows us into it’s deep embrace. Her soft moans and gentle breaths quicken as I become more and more frantic in my need to conquer her, to prove my love for her.

  I need this. I need the connection, the release.

  I need her.

  Our hips slam together, her desire as potent and as heady as my own. I’m still an addict but instead of injecting heroin and snorting cocaine, Rose has become my drug of choice. She’s intoxicating, mind altering and mine.

  I’ve searched my whole fucking life for this feeling of belonging and found it at a time in my life when I’d given up on ever being happy. Because of Rose, I no longer seek colour in the way I did before. She’s taught me the gentle peace that can be found in the dark, in the shadows of daylight. Rose is the colour that makes my existence a piece of art. She’s every damn colour of the rainbow and as long as I have her, I’m free.

  So, I fuck Rose like I paint, with every piece of my heart and soul. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for this woman. Nothing.

  “Anton, I’m coming,” she pants, drawing my face to hers, biting on my bottom lip as she grinds against me. A scream releases from her lips as she comes, my own release following shortly behind hers and I swear to God, for one moment I see every damn colour of the rainbow.

  Chapter 18

  Rose

  I awake to the sound of someone singing a pretty tune. The woman’s voice is so beautiful that for a moment I just lay listening, my eyes shut. The melody is a soft wave as it washes over me, her voice soothing in a whimsical kind of way. Stretching a little, I allow myself the time to wake up slowly, enjoying the way my muscles feel relaxed, and my head free from worrying thoughts. It’s been a long time since I’ve woken up this way.

  Anton must have the radio on in his studio, he often likes to paint with music playing in the background, says it helps his creative juices. I make a mental note to find out who the singer is so I can buy their album.

  When the singing stops abruptly, I rub my hands over my face and sit up, surprised to find myself back in my own bed and not in the hidden room beyond Anton’s studio. How the hell had that happened?

  And then I remember.

  I’d made love to Anton for hours in the dark then fell into a deep, satisfied sleep wrapped in the warmth of his arms. We both needed that time alone together. Anton needed to feel loved, adored and I needed to be Rose and not Ivan’s Domina or Erik’s submissive.

  It had been beautiful and exactly what we both needed to soothe our souls.

  Scraping a hand through my hair, I try and fail to hide the stupid grin on my face.

  “Good night I take it?” Fran asks, stepping out of my walk-in wardrobe holding a set of clean clothes. I feel my cheeks warm. She chuckles.

  “You know I went into Anton’s studio this morning to take him breakfast and the man was dancing to some awful tune with a grin a mile wide on his face.”

  “He was dancing?” I laugh.

  “Yep. Surprised me to know end, given you all looked like someone had died yesterday!”

  “What was the tune?” I ask, not willing to let on how close she is to the truth. The less people know, the better. It’s safer that way.

  “I don’t know. Some crap that had him waving his hands about like a loon. He went as red as a beetroot when he realised I was watching him. Poor sod.”

  “Oh my god, stop it. That’s hilarious.”

  “The silly bugger couldn’t stop smiling. I guess love does that to you.”

  “Yes, I guess it does,” I respond, feeling inextricably happy.

  She places my clothes on the bed, sitting down next to me. “I brought you some clean clothes. Figured it would save you the struggle of grabbing them from the wardrobe yourself.” She passes them to me, and I take the pair of dark jeans and white t-shirt gratefully. “Hope that’s okay?”

  “Thanks, Fran. Good choice,” I reply casting my eye over my favourite pair of jeans and a soft cotton top.

  “It’s no bother. I’ll start getting brunch ready now that you’re awake.”

  “Brunch? What time is it?” I ask, glancing out the window. It’s a bright day, the sun is so golden you could be forgiven for thinking it’s the middle of spring and not winter. Perhaps that’s a good omen? I always feel so much better when the sun’s out.

  “Eleven. The boys let you have a sleep in, given you’re so worn out. Besides…” Fran’s smile wavers a little.

  “What is it?”

  “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Rose, but whilst you’ve been sleeping our guest decided to leave. Ivan tried to persuade Mrs Carrington to stay, but she wanted to get back to her husband. Erik is a little upset.”

  “Because she left?” I ask, worry creeping up my spine.

  “No, not about that. Honestly, I think he was more relieved.” Fran pulls at an invisible thread on the bed cover, a frown creasing her brow.

  “So, what then? Should I be worried?”

  “Erik’s a little out of sorts today, quite the contrast to Anton. Ivan is teetering somewhere in the middle. Erik seems close to succumbing to an episode. I admit I’m worried about him.”

  “Shit!” I exclaim, pulling back the blanket and twisting my body, my feet slamming onto the floor. “Fuck!” I exclaim when my body reminds me it’s not completely healed just yet.

  “Hey, don’t panic, Ivan’s been with him, and now Anton has joined them both. They have it under control… I think.”

  “I should go too,” I say, ripping off Anton’s delicious smelling top, not caring that I’m completely naked before Fran. Snatching up the t-shirt she grabbed from the wardrobe for me, I yank it over my head. Fran shifts her body, casting her gaze away to give me some privacy as I pull on a clean pair of knickers and the pair of jeans. It’s still a little awkward to get dressed, but I’m far more flexible than I have been in weeks, the physio sessions with Alicia are paying off.

  Sliding out of bed and being careful not to put too much pressure on my knee, I stand. Fran gets up too, handing me my hairbrush. She smirks eyeing the bird’s nest that is my hair.

  “Those were the days,” she remarks, chuckling.

  I brush it quickly, wincing a little at the knots. Passionate sex most definitely equals messed up hair. Warmth spreads up my chest and neck as I remember how Anton had fisted my hair in his hands and fucked me with holding anything back.

  “You’re going to make yourself bald, tugging at that beautiful hair like that. Here, let me,” she offers, holding her hand out for the brush.

  I hesitate, giving a little frown. It’s such a motherly thing to do, and certainly not something I ever experienced from my own mother. I hand the brush to Fran without thinking too much about it.

  “I need to be with him. He shouldn’t go through this alone,” I say, turning my back to her so she can work her way through the knots.

  “Take a few deep breaths, Rose. Don’t go in there this wound up. It won’t help you and it certainly won’t help Erik.”

  “Shit, you’re right.” Filling my lungs up with air, I breathe in and out slowly, forcing myself to calm down. She continues to work out the tangles and the action soothes me. Somehow she knows just the right thing to do.

  “There we go, all done.”

  “Thanks, Fran. You’re so kind to me,” I respond gratefully.

  “Shouldn’t I be?” she asks tipping her head to the side, as she regards me with wise eyes.

  “Kindness isn’t something I’m used to, honestly. I seem to bring out the worst in people.”

  Fran waves her hand about. “I don’t believe that for a second. Look what you’ve done for these boys. You’ve brought out the best in them.”

  I sigh heavily, feeling a little lost all of a sudden. Being strong all the time is draining.

  “Look, Rose, I don’t need you to tell me what happened in the parlour yesterday,
but I do want you to know that I’m there for you if you need me.” She gives me a sweet smile, and for a moment I see the woman she was hidden beneath the greying hair, wrinkles and pretty pale blue eyes.

  “I might only be a housekeeper, but I do care about you all. And I’m no prude, Rose. Believe it or not I have lived a colourful life of my own. I’m glad they have you.”

  “You’re not only a housemaid, Fran. You’re my friend and I appreciate you. Thank you for telling me about Erik. I’d rather know when he’s in pain than have it hidden from me.”

  Fran pats my arm before letting it go, a wistful look shadowing her features. “Once upon a time I knew a man who was very similar to Erik. He too had opposing forces within him. It took a great deal of care and love to make him feel at peace with himself. Like Erik he was bullish and headstrong, but he was also gentle and incredibly thoughtful. You have it within you to help Erik, Rose. You’ve already done so much, but it will take time to get to a place where you’re no longer concerned that he’s going to fall into that dark place again. There might be weeks, even months, when he’ll feel better and then out of the blue something will happen, and he will be knocked back to the time that haunts him the most. It won’t be easy, but you’re strong. Be firm, be there for him always and you’ll make it through.”

  I nod my head solemnly. “Thank you, Fran… I think I needed that reassurance.”

  She pats my arm. “No bother, Rose.” She walks to the other side of my room and picks up a pile of dirty clothes, placing them in the wash basket. “Brunch will be ready in half an hour,” she says heading towards the door.

  “Wait! Who was that on the radio earlier?”

  “Radio?”

  “Yes. When I woke up, I heard singing. I figured you had the radio on.”

  Fran laughs, a smile brightening her face. “That wasn’t the radio, Rose. That was me.”

  “You? I didn’t know you could sing,” I respond, a little gobsmacked in all honesty. That voice sounded like it belonged to a girl much younger than the seventy year old woman standing before me.