by F. C. Clark
‘Kate is right, Dad.’
He reaches for our hands. ‘We let you down.’
‘How? You took us in, Dad – you and Mum saved us from God knows what.’ I take a breath. ‘We need to be able to talk about it, but you walk out of the room when we enter.’
‘You do, Dad,’ Harry agrees.
He sits back in his chair. ‘OK, I hear you.’ He sighs deeply. ‘Let’s start again. Ask me anything about Katenka and I’ll answer.’
Harry meets my gaze. I shrug.
‘Honestly, I don’t know what to ask.’ Knowing she may not have committed suicide makes the subject taboo for me. I can’t share my thoughts – I don’t want to hurt them. I remain silent.
‘Me neither; I can’t think straight right now.’
He looks at us. ‘I see her in both of you.’
‘Dad,’ Harry whispers. He wipes the single tear rolling down her cheek.
The sound of the door opening and Mum’s voice instantly alters the atmosphere in the kitchen. Although our conversation was short, this is the most we have spoken about Ivor and Katenka. It’s a start!
At home, I open the black door, Harry close behind me. After yesterday we’re both totally drained.
I place my bags on the bottom step and look at Harry. ‘Tea?’
‘Yeah.’ She removes her jacket and discards her shopping bags next to mine.
Walking past the office door I hear Luke’s raspy voice, and another I can’t place. Harry and I enter the office.
‘You have to be kidding me! What the bloody hell are you doing here?’
‘Kate, Harry.’ Aunt Christina stands awkwardly.
‘You haven’t answered my question.’ I fist my hands on my hips, pissed off that she is here.
‘I’ll leave.’ She looks at Luke. ‘Thank you for the tea.’
Behind his desk, Luke stands up. ‘No, wait.’ He moves towards me. ‘Kate, a word in private.’
He pulls my arm and marches me to the kitchen.
‘Why did you let her in?’
‘Firstly, she rang the gate and wanted to speak to you.’ He runs his hand through his hair. ‘Secondly, don’t behave like this – the one thing you’re not is intolerant of others. You, more than anyone, have forgiveness seeping from your pores, a rare quality today. Christ, Kate, you’re always telling me to be more friendly with my staff.’
‘This is different.’ I look down. ‘Luke, I can’t forgive her. She knew so much about us – and she took money from my father all those years.’
‘This isn’t like you, Kate.’ He moves closer.
‘Well, maybe I’ve changed, grown hardened to people shitting on me.’ I close my eyes for a second, feeling confused. ‘I want her to leave.’
‘No.’
‘What do you mean, no? This is my home too, and I want her gone.’ My eyes lock to Luke’s. ‘Fine, I’ll tell her myself.’
Luke grabs my arm. ‘Don’t do this. You’re not a bitch and never will be – please don’t behave like this. I don’t want to see you change into someone you’re not.’
I try to shake him off, but his grip prevents me from running. He pulls me to his chest, locking his arms around me.
‘Baby, I know she betrayed you.’ He lifts my chin to look at him, gently skimming my cheek with his thumb. ‘Kate, it’s been six months with no contact, and she wants to put right her wrongs. Whether you accept her apology is up to you, but at least give her the chance to explain.’ He places his lips tenderly over mine. Just his warm touch seems to thaw the ice covering my heart.
I take in his words. ‘I feel so hurt. She knew about Ivor and said nothing.’
‘So did your parents.’
‘Not like this; they never had any contact with him.’
‘Fair point.’
‘The photos at his house.’ I shut my eyes and place my head on his chest. ‘It’s bloody crappy, that’s what it is. I don’t want to deal with this shit any more.’ I look at his eyes, needing to absorb his strength.
‘Take one day at a time. Today Christina’s here, and she needs your forgiveness.’
‘Are you trying to make me feel guilty?’
‘No – perhaps.’ He smiles. ‘But I don’t want you to regret not making amends. Against my better judgement, I have also given some thought to tracking Ivor.’
My lips instantly find his. ‘I love you, Luke Sutton. Even when you drive me mad, I couldn’t live without you.’
‘Good – I love you too, baby. Ready to make amends?’
‘As I’ll ever be.’
We return to the office, where Aunt Christina remains in front of Luke’s desk. She looks tired and gaunt.
‘Ladies, shall we sit?’ Luke takes charge of the proceedings. Perhaps he wants to make sure I’ll listen to Aunt Christina.
Thankfully Luke sits next to me, and Harry and Christina sit in the two leather armchairs.
‘Kate, could I explain?’ Christina says.
‘OK.’ I bite my lower lip – to stop me telling her some home truths.
‘I have no excuse, and I would feel the same as you.’
‘Good.’
Luke looks at me. I bite harder.
‘You’re absolutely right, and I wasn’t expecting any other response. At first I thought I was helping. But I got worried when Ivor contacted me – he knew about the adoption. He never threatened anyone directly, but I didn’t want him to contact either of you girls or, worse, your mum and dad. Part of Katenka’s condition was secrecy, but at the time I didn’t know why. When Ivor turned up I wondered if she wanted to keep the adoption secret from him.’
Harry and I remain mute. Luke takes my hand, encouraging me to listen.
‘This is so raw for us both.’ I look at Harry and take a deep breath. ‘I don’t hate you. I hate what you did. To see my life on his wall was shocking… it was just wrong.’
‘And I’m truly sorry.’
Her sadness is evident. I can only imagine that this day has been hanging over her like a dark cloud. She slips her hand inside her bag and passes me an envelope.
‘I managed to gather enough money; the cheque is for the same amount that Ivor paid me over the years. Kate, it was never about the money. I know it’s an ugly truth, but when my company was struggling I used it to keep my business going.’
My eyes fall to the envelope. I have no interest in his money and never will. I rip the envelope in half.
‘I don’t want your money. It was the betrayal of Dad that hurt.’
She reaches across and touches my hand. ‘For that I’m sincerely regretful; that’s why I didn’t come to your wedding, Harry.’ She looks across to Harry. ‘I know Malcolm was upset with me, but I would never have ruined your day.’
‘I told Kate that’s what I thought; Dad said you had work commitments.’
‘There was some truth in it; I did have a big case.’ She stands, looking a little overwhelmed. ‘I’d better go. It’s getting dark and I have a fair drive ahead of me.’
Crap! The outcome of this reunion falls to me. I stand directly in front of Christina.
‘It’ll take time for me to accept all that’s happened, and I guess you thought you were doing the right thing.’
‘Maybe we could all have a family meal here.’ Luke offers an idea.
‘That would be lovely.’ Christina looks at Harry and me. ‘When you’re both ready.’
Maybe that time will never come.
***
My fingers skim the bubbles. I close my eyes to shut out the outside world, exhausted.
‘Do you mind if I join you?’ My eyes open to the most glorious view – my naked sex god.
I watch Luke step into the bath. He settles himself then takes hold of my feet, massaging them gently. ‘Feeling better?’
‘Bu
bbles and you – a winning combination.’ My hands rest on Luke’s calves.
‘I’m pleased to be of service. You’ve been quiet all evening.’
‘Yeah, my head is all over the place, what with you and then that prick Matthew and now today, and bloody Aunt Christina. I’m destined for an early grave! Oh, and let’s not forget Jerry, who I betrayed.’
Luke stops. ‘You never betrayed him. I get why you did it.’
‘Time will tell. It’ll kill me if he hates me.’
Luke smirks.
‘Don’t look like that; it’s not the same situation as Aunt Christina. I may as well drown…’
‘Share the load, we’re in this together.’
‘You’re the only person I can count on.’ My eyes lock to his. ‘I need you.’
‘You have me.’ He smiles, savouring my words.
‘No, you misunderstand me. I need you! I wasn’t referring to Luke the control freak; I was calling for my sex god.’
He laughs. ‘You prefer the sex god to me, your protective boyfriend?’
‘Hell, yes!’ I giggle.
Within seconds Luke has a towel ready for me. He wraps me in it and carries me to the bed. Strong and seductive is what I need tonight.
Laying me on the mattress, his mouth begins to travel south, where it makes contact with my clit. Sensing my need, he doesn’t tease me, and I lose myself to him. My orgasm crashes through me like a tornado. Lost in our private world, I lie and relish my feelings of euphoria, but he’s not finished. He’s kneeling in front of me, his erection prominent.
‘I want you to sit on me, baby.’
I nod. I have no need to speak; too many words have been used over the last twenty-four hours. For once, silence, and Luke telling me what to do, is very welcome.
I straddle him and link my arms around his neck. I slide down on him with ease; after my first orgasm I’m wet and ready for the next one. Instantly my body begins to expand.
‘Slowly, baby.’
‘OK.’ One word whispers from my lips.
Luke guides the rhythm, gripping my hips firmly. Without him asking me to, my hand moves to my clit and my fingers move gently, giving me the last touch of sensation I need to tip me over the edge. His eyes fall to my hand: he’s always pleased to watch me masturbate.
‘I’m trying not to come.’
‘Just go, baby.’
‘I can’t hold off, Luke – now.’ My hips work double time. ‘Oh God.’ The last wave of my orgasm smashes through my body.
‘Harder, baby – fuck, I need you harder.’
I’m spent and have nothing left to give. Luke lowers me to the bed, entering me again, pumping me hard into the mattress. His breathing quickens and he gives me everything he has, leaving every drop of his possession in me.
Afterwards, our bodies become slack. Luke runs his nose along mine and finds my lips, placing gentle kisses on my soft skin. My hands reach for his hair, pulling him to me to deepen our embrace; not sexually, but I need to be close to him. He lies next to me, running his fingers up and down my body.
‘I love you,’ I say.
‘I love you too, baby.’
‘We’ve barely spoken about yesterday.’ I roll to my side and meet his eyes.
‘You can’t go AWOL and expect me to be happy about it, Kate.’
My fingers skim the roughness of his cheeks.
‘You should have called me to ask where I was. I would never lie to you… Anyway, I don’t want to argue about it. I’m too exhausted.’
‘You having lunch with Bradley Taylor made me fucking mad.’
I look at the mattress. Luke pulls my face to look at him.
‘But you knew it would, and that’s my point – why antagonise me, Kate? I don’t play games.’
‘I wasn’t trying to upset you. I didn’t know how to get out of it.’ God, he confuses me. I need him to want me like no one else.
‘That’s bullshit – you say no often enough to me. Does he have an exemption card?’
I frown, knowing he’s right. ‘I would never hurt you.’
‘But you did yesterday.’
‘I didn’t mean to. Christ, I wouldn’t.’
‘Bradley Taylor is your Maddy – do you get it now?’
‘That’s totally different – you were engaged.’
‘Relationship aside, we both feel insecure when these names are mentioned.’
Fuck!
‘It was just lunch; I have absolutely no feelings for him. Remember, all or nothing.’
‘Don’t push me again.’
‘Luke, you can’t tell me who to have lunch with. Besides, he showed me what progress has been made on the hotel in New York, so theoretically it was a working lunch.’
‘I told you yesterday, don’t mistake my tolerance for weakness. The man wants to fuck you. Baby, you shouldn’t lead him on.’
‘Luke!’
He arches a brow. Bloody hell, he knows me better than I know myself.
‘This is what you do to me.’
He lowers his gaze towards his erection. I giggle at his need for sex, for me, for possession.
‘I hope you’re ready for round two, baby.’
19
‘I don’t know what to say.’ My eyes meets Mr Jones’s eyes in the mirror.
‘You look breath-taking, but I knew you would.’ His hand rests against my back as we take in the dress. It is made from the most exquisite vintage lace from France. ‘Shall we show your family?’
This is the dress I’ll wear to say ‘I do’. Holy shit, I’m getting married to Luke. For the first time since Sandbanks, it really hits me.
‘Let’s wait a couple of minutes.’ I take hold of Mr Jones’ hand. ‘I’m lost for words.’
‘There’s a first time for everything, Miss Harper.’ He nudges my arm, trying to lighten the mood.
‘Honestly, I love it. OK, I’m ready.’
Mr Jones pulls back the curtain from the large changing area, and I take a step forward. As predicted, Mum squeals when she sees me, but most surprising is Livy’s reaction: she shrieks then claps her hands. I look across at Mr Jones; we had predicted a happy reaction, but maybe not one that was quite so loud.
‘You look beautiful. Dad’s going to crumble – I know he will.’ Mum walks round me, admiring every small detail of the dress.
‘My darling girl, your mum is right. You look… you look like an angel.’ Livy takes my hand. ‘Absolutely stunning.’
‘How clever is Mr Jones?’ I gesture in the direction of the man in question.
‘Very clever,’ Livy says, swept away by the idea of our wedding and her son taking the role of Prince Charming.
‘My pleasure, ladies – she is worth all the hard work. Now, I think a cup of tea is in order.’
Mr Jones disappears, allowing Mum and Livy to examine the dress. The vintage lace is what makes the dress unique, although the design is simple and elegant. It’s a strapless dress with a very discreet sweetheart neckline, and extremely fitted, clinging to every curve of my body. From the knee the dress flares into a swirling fishtail design, with a long train.
‘I love it – it was just what I wanted. Livy, look at the picture on the cutting table.’
She walks to the table and picks up the picture, comparing it to the real dress.
‘It’s identical.’
‘Do you remember the picture in Luke’s office – the charcoal drawing in the silver frame?’
She nods.
‘This is the picture – well, a photocopy. It was my favourite from all of Mr Jones’s books.’
She takes my hand. ‘Thank you for today – I will treasure this moment forever. I can’t wait to tell Edward, but I won’t tell him what the dress looks like, just that you looked like an angel.’
‘Actually, I wanted to ask you a question.’ I clear my throat. ‘In your wedding picture you were wearing a short lace veil. I asked Luke about it and he said he thought it belonged to his grandmother.’ I watch her eyes begin to fill with emotion.
‘It did belong to my mother, and hers before that. I believe it was handmade somewhere in Europe.’
‘Would I be able to borrow it?’
She takes my hand. ‘I would be honoured. My mother adored Luke – she loved all the boys, but I have to admit he was her favourite. I thought it was because he was the first-born, but it was more than that; they had the same independent souls. She would have adored you, and loved how happy you make Luke.’
‘Are you trying to make me cry?’ I desperately try to hold back my tears. How can fabric evoke such strong emotions?
Later that afternoon Mr Jones and I are alone in the tailor’s and return to discussing the serious business of Harper Jones. I’m zipped into another dress that is the polar opposite to my beautiful wedding dress. To say it’s a little revealing would be an understatement. It’s a floor-length silk black strapless dress, but my arms and neck are covered in fine black chiffon. I turn in the mirror to reveal the back of the dress. Black chiffon covers my exposed back, and stops at the base of my spine. From there, the black silk continues to the floor.
‘Do you think it needs a split?’
‘It is already rather risqué, Kate.’
‘Maybe not; less is more. I love it. It’s definitely got the wow factor. What do you think?’
Mr Jones looks at me over his glasses. ‘I admit you look incredibly… suggestive!’
I giggle. ‘Suggestive? Mr Jones, this dress is a sexy number – say it how it is.’
‘Yes, perhaps, but in my day, wearing such an outfit would make you look suggestive – not always a good thing.’ He tilts his head. ‘However, you look stunning, that we can both agree on.’
With all my dresses hanging in the fitting area, I return to the cutting table.
‘What do you think?’ I watch his reaction to yet another drawing I have done of an evening dress.
‘Hmm. I think you take pleasure in presenting me with challenges. When do you need it?’
‘This Saturday. Apparently we’re off to Dubai for some new hotel opening; we have to be seen at these functions before Luke’s hotel is ready. He told me last night – as usual, last-minute.com. So, I thought it would be another opportunity for a Harper Jones dress.’