Bend But Never Break

by Cheryl Phipps

  ‘I guess you aren’t that fond of pot roast. How about some desert?’

  She licked her lips and Nick was mesmerised. Was she flirting with him? That line was as old as the hills.

  Taking his plate, she disappeared for a few moments and came back with some strawberries and a pot of melted chocolate. ‘Tell me what you think of this.’ She dipped her finger in the chocolate and wiped it across his bottom lip. He obediently sucked in his lip to taste it, still watching her. The warm liquid hit his taste buds but her next move had more than his saliva activated. Talia bent down and licked his bottom lip.

  He had never been more turned on as he pulled her head back down and his mouth captured hers. The kiss was unimaginably erotic and became more and more abandoned. His hands were in her hair, tangled in the curls, and somehow she was sitting on his lap when they both came up for air.

  His hands came to frame her face and he looked into the dazed eyes. God he wanted her so bad, but if the plans he was making without her knowledge didn’t get Chloe back, then she would regret tonight, and that he couldn’t bear.

  ‘Talia, honey, we can’t do this.’

  Her eyes, so recently filled with desire, cleared and the sudden pain in them sent a knife through his heart. She got up and stiffly turned away from him. ‘I didn’t mean to force myself on you, Nick. I’m not used to making the first step and I apologise for making you uncomfortable. Perhaps you should go.’

  ‘Go? I don’t want to go.’

  ‘But you don’t want me either.’

  He pulled her to face him. ‘You’re crazy if you think I don’t want to throw you across this table right now, but I can’t. It won’t be okay until I have Randall where he can’t harm you and you have Chloe safe. Deep down, you know I’m right.’

  ‘Don’t tell me what I think or feel. I wasn’t asking for a commitment – just sex.’

  Her anger was contagious.

  ‘So we’re just going to have sex, then. Is that what this is all about? Well, that’s just fine with me.’

  He pulled his shirt over his head and stood there looking hot and dangerous. His well-defined six-pack beckoned her touch, but his mood was angry rather than lustful. Talia was shocked. This wasn’t what she wanted. She loved him but she had no idea how to show him. Living with Randall had warped her sense of what was normal in these circumstances. It had come out all wrong but at least she knew where they stood. She took a step towards him and that was all he needed. He grabbed her to him and ground his mouth against her.

  The roughness brought an image of Randall and in spite of her desire, she couldn’t separate the two. She was suddenly frightened and began to fight him. ‘No, no please.’

  Her desperate plea stopped him instantly. ‘Talia, please don’t cry. I couldn’t hurt you. I’m sorry I got carried away, but this is unbearable, what you do to me. All I want is for what we have to be perfect. I love you so much.’

  He kissed her eyes and cheeks and then her lips so softly that she became quiet in his arms. How long he held and gently kissed her he didn’t know, but at some stage she began to return those kisses, and soon they were aroused again.

  Nick picked her up and carried her to the one room in the house he had deliberately not entered before. The room was a reflection of her: warm, soft and so beautiful. Wonderful paintings of a family adorned every surface. The family she had lost. He laid her on the bed and touched the portrait hanging behind it.

  Talia looked almost the same, standing in the sun with a carefree smile on her face, so the picture could not be that old. An older version of her, clearly her mother, sat in front of her on an old church pew. He had seen that seat in her garden out back, amongst the purple wisteria. A cheerful, contented looking man sat next to the woman, and behind his shoulder was a young man whose smile was also familiar.

  ‘I finished that a couple of years back, about this time,’ she whispered.

  ‘You painted this? It’s wonderful, Talia. This is what you should be doing.’

  ‘I couldn’t paint anymore after they died. I tried but I felt nothing. You need passion to do anything well, and when it’s stifled, there is no creativity.’

  Her comment brought him back to where they were and what they had been about to do. ‘You’re absolutely right, Talia, but you also need love.’ He sat beside her and began to kiss her once more. This time, he didn’t stop at her lips. He trailed kisses down her neck, which sent shudders through her body. Encouraged, Nick moved slowly down to her breasts, pushing the thin straps off her shoulders, and with no bra, he found her already peaked nipples eagerly with his tongue. They hardened further in the warmth of his mouth.

  He sucked in his breath as he felt her hands pressing on his hips. They raced up his sides and then began tugging at his belt. Impatiently, he pulled it undone and the next moment, she had one hand inside his jeans and was kissing his chest in a replica of his earlier move. He pulled her off the bed and pushed the dress to the floor. All that covered her was a scrap of sheer fabric, which he dispensed with as he knelt, kissing her ribs and the pink scar on her stomach on the way down. He moved to her navel and beyond, breathing in her sweet scent.

  Nick’s hand gently prised her legs apart so his tongue could find the access he desired. The first lick had her knees buckling and he held her small buttocks in his hands to steady her. His tongue found her sweet spot and she gasped. His movements became more and more insistent as her juices began to flow and her moans became so much louder that it took sheer force of will to stop himself from throwing her onto the bed and burying himself in her lushness.

  She stood before him, eyes closed, shaking and trying to catch her breath. Nick was revelling in the fact that he could make her feel like this, when she pulled on his shoulders and he rose to his feet to kiss her.

  She tugged at his loosened waistband and pushed his jeans down to his ankles. Sitting down on the bed, she grabbed his hips and pulled him to her. His eyes closed in ecstasy as her mouth took in the tip of his shaft. One of her hands cupped him while her tongue began to flick its way up and down, with her other hand following its movements. When she began to draw him in further, he knew he couldn’t take much more.

  Nick placed his hand under her chin and gently pulled her head away. ‘Just one moment, darling,’ he said, his voice husky with desire. He kicked his clothes from around his ankles and retrieved a condom from his wallet. Placing it on himself as she watched, he had to reassure himself that she wanted this as much as he did. ‘Are you still okay with this, Talia?’

  A smile flickered on her swollen lips. ‘I’m very okay with this.’

  That was all he needed. If she could attempt a joke at this stage, he knew it was going to be fine. That, of course, was an understatement. From the moment he entered her, he was lost. She followed his movements until they became synchronised, until they were one and he couldn’t tell who was doing what. The waves crashed over them and as soon as she began to cry out, he allowed his own release, calling her name over and over, as he drowned in the sensation of the beauty and rightness that was their union.

  Afterwards, there was little conversation. There was a lot to discuss, a lot that was still a mystery, but for now, this would do.

  When Nick was capable, he brought the wine to the bedroom because they were so thirsty, but they needed no food. Tonight was their night and he intended not to waste any time with other distractions.

  ***

  They lay in front of the fireplace watching the firelight flicker over their bodies. It wasn’t cold, just romantic, and there was no embarrassment since they’d seen each other naked so many times over the last few days.

  ‘I had no idea it could be like this, Nick.’ Talia wrapped her arms around his neck whilst her leg draped itself over his hips.

  ‘What do you mean?’ He brushed her hair back from her face and nuzzled that place between her ear and neck she seemed to like so much.

  ‘All of it. Great sex and then this part, where
we talk - or don’t - and nothing else matters. It’s exciting and comfortable and I’ve never felt so happy or relaxed with a man. I’m not constantly worried I may do, or have done, something wrong.’

  He thought about it and nodded. ‘I never noticed I hadn’t felt that way before, but it’s true. You make me feel like that, too.’ He kissed her again, feeling guilty as hell.

  This was the time to tell her the latest updates on Randall and Chloe, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He didn’t want to ruin the mood, and selfishly he wanted her one last time, before she knew to what lengths he’d had to go to fix things.

  It wasn’t like he’d intended to deceive her but Randall was out there, waiting for an opportunity to get Talia alone. After much thought, Nick had decided that he would be the one to orchestrate it, to have it happen on his terms. The only way for his plan to work was to keep Talia in the dark, and she would hate him for it.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  It was Talia’s first day back at work and she didn’t want to be late. Since Nick had been around, she’d felt more confident and had contacted her old friend Bill Graham, who had been delighted to hear from her. He was in the process of buying a new gallery of his own that would focus on the local talent. It was something close to her heart and the two of them had spent hours discussing the idea.

  Bill had apparently been hoping she would come back, and still was none the wiser about her sudden departure months ago. Her explanation of sickness and hospitalization seemed to suffice. The job was perfect for Talia and had the added bonus of a place to show off her own works if and when she felt like painting again.

  She looked in the mirror and became aware the black rings under her eyes were no longer there. Having someone who loved you the way you loved them was a fantastic remedy for those nightmares. She blushed when she thought about her lovemaking with Nick. She had been a little tender everywhere after their marathon weekend, but she wouldn’t have changed a thing. Parts of it replayed in her mind and made her smile whenever she had a quiet moment.

  It wasn’t like she didn’t think of Chloe every single day or felt guilty for finding love when her child was missing out on that very thing. It was simply easier with someone by your side. Someone to hold you when you cried, to reassure you that your daughter would be found - to give you hope.

  Nick had spent a lot of time with her, but today he’d left for work early, and for some reason, she’d been a little on edge. She’d felt like someone was watching her as she’d gone to the letterbox for the paper. Maybe it was in her imagination, and after all that had happened, it was expected that she would be a bit paranoid, although when Nick was here, she didn’t feel that way.

  She put the finishing touches to her makeup and looked at herself in the mirror again. Never had she been particularly vain. It was more a case of checking to see if she was still the same person - that she hadn’t changed so much, that Chloe would still recognise her.

  She did feel different. She’d finally put on some weight, was sleeping a little better and felt safe with Nick staying over. Her skin looked healthier and she was beginning to regain a sense of purpose. Work would hopefully be a boost to her self-esteem and give her back the independence she’d lost when she’d married Randall, who, soon after their marriage, had become so controlling and vindictive, he’d kept her from her friends and isolated her.

  Chloe was still on her mind most of the day, and tears were never far away if she thought too hard about what was happening to her child, but she no longer had anxiety attacks. Nick assured her his people were out there looking at every facet of Randall’s life. Nick would find her daughter because he loved Talia. She trusted him now; it was as simple as that. She had to believe in it happening because the alternative would make her want to curl up and die, and she’d been down that road already.

  She got into her car and was turning the key when a voice behind her shocked her into immobility.

  ‘Good morning, Talia. It’s so nice to finally get to meet you in person. You and I will be taking a little drive. There’s someone who’s dying to see you.’

  ‘Who are you? What do you want?’ Her voice was surprisingly calm.

  ‘No questions, just drive. No, don’t turn around. We don’t want anyone to suspect you may have someone in here, do we?’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere with you.’

  ‘Randall said you might be difficult, but I think you will do as I say if you want to see your daughter.’

  Talia backed out of her driveway and followed his directions. They were heading away from town. This was not good. Would Randall really bring Chloe to her?

  ‘Pull into this driveway and up to the house.’

  Dear God, not here. It was Bill Graham’s house. The gates would normally be shut, with a security guard on duty around the clock. This was the only way in, so why were the gates open?

  As soon as the car stopped, he was out and yanking her door open.

  ‘Into the house.’

  The man pushed her in front of him so that she stumbled up the marble steps. The ‘house’ was an old mansion she’d helped decorate. Bill was a rather distinguished old gentleman who had lived off his inherited fortune until he’d bought the gallery. Then he’d spent his days acquiring property and valuable paintings. He had given her that first job when she’d finished her studies, taught her everything she knew about art and had become like a second father to her. It was him she’d been trying to protect when she had refused to continue to help Randall. She was not about to let anything happen to him now.

  Walking through the large, open front doors, it took a while for her eyes to adjust to the dimmer interior. She gasped at the inert form lying just inside the door. Bill Graham lay on his back in a pool of blood, his eyes staring upwards and a large hole in his chest.

  ‘We’re here,’ the man announced, pushing her past the body towards Bill’s study.

  ‘Come in, come in,’ called a familiar voice as they entered. ‘Hello, Talia, so glad you could join us once more. I imagine this is quite a surprise for you. I believe you know Kirk.’ He pointed to her dear friend, who was on his knees in front of Randall.

  Rooted to the spot, she could only stare at the other man who had done so much for her. Kirk looked up and shook his head slightly. Don’t tell him anything, his eyes said. Play dumb, buy some time. Kirk was right; seeing Randall alive was a sign that she could still find her daughter.

  ‘Naturally, you wouldn’t have expected to see me alive but you could pretend to be a little happy to see me. You’re looking well - must be all that time spent with your detective. Don’t look surprised. You were pretty easy to find and besides, I have others keeping me up to date.’ He came across the room and ran a finger down her scar. ‘It’s not as bad as being dead, is it?’

  Talia flinched but held her ground.

  ‘Let’s get to the point. Which of these paintings did you supply Mr Graham with?’

  Talia was surprised at the sudden change of conversation. ‘It was done over a long period – I can’t possibly remember them all.’

  ‘Narrow it down to the two months prior to your accident.’

  ‘That was no accident and I’m afraid I don’t remember anything from that time.’

  ‘You’re lying, you bitch,’ he said, slapping her face for good measure.

  ‘After that beating, I’m lucky to function as well as I do.’ She spoke with a voice filled with so much venom that it surprised even her.

  Randall wasn’t buying any of it. He slapped her harder. ‘I suggest you have a rapid memory recovery if you want your friend here to live any longer.’

  She had momentarily forgotten Kirk in the heat of their argument and looked down guiltily at him, knelt so stoically. A small trickle of blood ran from his nose. Talia attempted to go to his aide but the other man held her arm. ‘Is he okay?’

  ‘He is for now. Tell me, which paintings?’

  ‘I’m not telling you anything. You’re
going to kill me anyway, so why should I help you now?’

  He looked at her thoughtfully. ‘There are far too many paintings for me to check in the time I have, and one in particular holds the key to a very important safety deposit box. Since Kirk probably can’t help me and you are refusing to, I may as well get rid of you both right now. Naturally, I had intended to take you with me to see your daughter, but I guess that’s not as important as shagging your cop.’ He pulled a gun from his waistband and shot Kirk through the leg.

  Kirk merely grunted. She could see the pain in his eyes but he said firmly, ‘Don’t tell him, Talia. It won’t make a bit of difference to what he does to us. Let the bastard sweat for a change.’

  She felt a wave of love and pity for the man who had done so much for her. He certainly didn’t deserve to die like this. How many more friends and family would be killed because of her before this nightmare ended? She was his only chance even if all she could do was buy some time. Suddenly an idea came to her, and it was her last hope.

  ‘Okay. I’ll take you to them if you promise to give me Chloe and let Kirk go. Look at him - he’s no threat to you.’ She pointed to the ropes that ate into his wrists and ankles.

  ‘I don’t think you’re in any position to make deals, Talia.’

  ‘Take it or leave it because that’s my final offer.’

  She could tell he’d been expecting her refusal and as usual he’d already decided on his next step.

  ‘Very well. Larry, put Kirk in his car out front, and make sure he understands that if he tries to leave before we give him the all clear, we’ll shoot him.’

  Larry untied Kirk’s feet and half dragged him to the front door. Now Talia had to do as she’d promised. Leading Randall up to the gallery on the next floor, she pointed to a lovely sunset. ‘This is one of ours. It was delivered just before . . . everything.’

  He pushed her into a chair several feet away and then took the painting off the wall. Lying it face down, he pulled a wicked looking knife from his belt and slashed the back from corner to corner. He felt around the frame. Failing to find what he was looking for, he threw it from him. ‘Next?’