Enfold (Thornhill Trilogy Book 3)

by J. J. Sorel

  Pinching my bottom after I stepped in front of him on the busy strip, Aidan gave me one of his irresistible grins. “Sexy butt. I love you in jeans, baby.”

  “Aidan, we’re in public.” I could see people checking us out and whispering.

  He put his arm around me. “If a man can’t touch his wife-to-be’s butt, then there’s something seriously wrong with the world.”

  “That canvas of Jessica was striking,” I said. A twist of jealousy squirmed away in my gut. I couldn’t get over how gorgeous she looked.

  “Mm… you think so?” Aidan said, drawing me close to his waist.

  “Yes. She’s beautiful. And she wants you.”

  “Not for me, she ain’t. Jessica is all fake, darling. Every square inch. Not like you.” He rubbed my butt again. “This peachy, chubby little butt. Mm… I love rubbing myself against you, princess.”

  My eyebrows drew in sharply. “Chubby?”

  Aidan laughed. “Oh, baby. It’s not chubby in an ugly way. But in a super sexy, curvy way.”

  I turned to look at him. He was aroused. My insecurity made me wonder if seeing Jessica naked had done that to him. I looked down. Oh my, he had a bulge.

  “It was pretty sexual.”

  “What was, baby?” Aidan opened the car door and helped me up into the SUV.

  “Jessica,” I said with a cranky edge.

  “Not for me, it wasn’t.”

  After Aidan settled into his seat, he turned to look at my sullen face. “Hey, what’s up?”

  “I feel so insecure. She’s so sophisticated. I’m just a bumbling little girl who… I don’t know.”

  Aidan leaned over and took me into his arms. “Hey, Clarissa. You’re my life. No one compares to you, sweetheart. You’re beautiful, intelligent, and sexy as hell.”

  “But I’m shy.”

  “That’s sexy in my book. Come on, baby. Let’s go home. If you keep going on about how unsexy you are, I’m going to have to spank you.” He raised an eyebrow. His full, sensual lips curled up deliciously.

  My veins thawed. Aidan’s smiling gaze was as irresistible as usual, making me giggle. I slapped his muscular thigh. “You’re incorrigible, Aidan.”

  “Around you, I am, princess.” He pressed a button and the Doors came on. Aidan sang along in that arousing pitch-perfect rasp, as we headed back to paradise.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The next morning, I went to the cottage to visit Tabitha. I’d called beforehand to make sure I didn’t turn up when she was with Grant. By that stage, I was convinced that my future father-in-law was as much a sex maniac as my best friend.

  I found Tabitha on the porch with her bare feet up on the table, drinking coffee.

  “Hey you,” she said, all smiles and looking as gorgeous as ever, her hair down and golden, her eyes wide and bright. Tabitha was one of those rare species who could go with little sleep and still look stunning.

  “You’re in a good mood.”

  “I should be. Grant’s asked me to move in.”

  “Oh, really? What about Sara?”

  “She’s moved out, apparently,” said Tabitha.

  “When?”

  “I’m not sure when she moved out.”

  “No, not that. When are you moving?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  I frowned. “That soon? I’ll miss you. I liked having you here.”

  “I’ve loved being here, too. It’s like stepping in a twilight zone. Everything’s so yesterday—in a pretty way, that is.” She chuckled.

  “I love it here that much, I never want to leave,” I said.

  “It suits you, Vintage Girl.” She tapped me on the nose. “So what should we do on our last day together?”

  “Aidan left this morning for New York. He asked me to go to an estate auction on Sunset Boulevard. An old Hollywood producer with a penchant for Art Deco has passed away. Aidan wants some of those lovely dancer figurines, lamps, and colored glass vases, which I simply adore. He asked me to go and buy as much as I want. Apparently, there are silk dresses from the twenties and thirties,” I gushed. “When I heard that, I jumped. I might even be able to pick up a dress for my wedding.”

  Tabitha’s head pulled back sharply. “A wedding dress? Clary, you’re not going all vintage on me again, are you? I thought we could design one together. I was looking forward to that.”

  “Let’s see what’s there. I must admit, the thought of one of those slinky satin numbers like Greta Garbo wore sends serious shivers of excitement through me.”

  “It will also send shivers through the male guests.” Tabitha stretched her arms. “Garbo was svelte and almost flat chested, sweetie. With your voluptuous curves and those knock-them-dead boobies, it may leave the celebrant gasping for air.”

  I laughed. “I’ll make sure that I tape down my breasts and wear a bra with lots of support. Do you want to come along?”

  “Yeah. You bet. Sunset Boulevard. Let’s do lunch at the strip, first. We can rub shoulders with the rich and filthy.”

  “You mean filthy rich,” I said.

  “No, I mean rich and filthy.”

  I smiled. I loved having Tabitha to share in my adventures. “Let’s do that.”

  James, my driver, was meant to take us. Aidan even reminded me after he’d caught me out driving to the VHC. But with Tabitha in tow, I felt like being independent.

  *****

  After finally managing to park the car, we entered the busy street, which was predictably filled hordes of strange entities. Some didn’t even look like people, and going by the glazed looks on their faces, I got the impression that they hadn’t slept for a long time. Every day was the morning after on that strip, I told myself. As we pranced along, it felt as if we’d landed on another planet.

  Anyway, the novelty soon wore off after being continually refused entry into many of the cafes. Like all the establishments we’d already tried, the waiter looked us up and down and shook his head. “Sorry, ladies. We don’t have any tables available.”

  Leaning into my ear, Tabitha muttered that we should’ve worn designer. I couldn’t believe it, given that there were empty tables everywhere.

  Tabitha bristled and pointed at me. “You do realize this is Aidan Thornhill’s future wife?”

  I elbowed Tabitha and shook my head ever so slightly, enough for her to register my disapproval. Nevertheless, as wilful as always, she persisted. “We can call Aidan if you like and ask him to vouch for us.”

  As much as I resented airing my private credentials, it worked. His mien softened at the mention of Aidan’s name. “Let me see. Inside or out?”

  “Outside, please,” said Tabitha.

  He pointed to a table on the promenade. I imagined it was a coveted position because one could watch the endless parade of wannabes. “Alfredo will direct you ladies to table eight,” he said.

  Tabitha stood behind him, puffing her cheeks and crossing her eyes. Her

  childish prank forced me to squeeze my lips tight. I bowed my head in gratitude. I was too scared I would explode in laughter otherwise.

  As we followed the waiter, I elbowed Tabitha, who responded with an “ouch.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t do that,” I whispered.

  In typical rebellious form, she continued playing up by mimicking the waiter’s girlish walk.

  That did it. I lost all self-control and laughed, fueled by Tabitha’s squealing giggles. The waiter stared at us. I felt bad, hoping he wouldn’t think we were laughing at him. In reality, we were probably laughing more at how ridiculous the whole situation was. And how unreal everyone seemed.

  Tabitha said, “Sorry, we had a big night.” She raised an eyebrow.

  He returned a knowing little smile before taking our orders.

  We both ordered lasagne, salad, wine for Tabitha, and mineral water for me.

  “You should have used your driver. We could have shared a few wines together and made a day of it,” said Tabitha.

  “Drinking wine during t
he day puts me to sleep. I don’t know how you manage it.”

  “Irish genes, sweetie.” She lounged back with a self-satisfied grin.

  We attracted more attention than I liked. I hated how the patrons glared at us. I supposed we looked like two ordinary girls sitting at a prized table. Tabitha had made more of an effort with her low-slung jeans and loose, ruffled pink silk blouse, whereas I’d chosen a vintage cotton floral shift and green cardigan.

  I leaned in. “Everyone’s staring for some reason.”

  She pointed at my outfit. “Maybe that grandma dress has got something to do with it.”

  “I love this dress.”

  “So, you always say. And you’re not wearing a stitch of makeup. That’s considered weird around here.”

  I did a quick survey of all the patrons and noticed how made up everyone was. Even some of the men had foundation on. I supposed most were probably actors. I did recognize a few faces. Tabitha, who loved the limelight, was in her element.

  “Ah… here we go,” she said, looking over my shoulder.

  A couple of guys strutted over to join us. They were like weightlifters, and their tanned, oily muscles glistened in the sun.

  “Hey, girls. Mind if we join you?” Their smiling eyes glowed with confidence. Ick.

  Tabitha looked them up and down. “Yes.”

  He went to sit down. My eyes widened, pleading for Tabitha to use that smart mouth of hers to stop him. Sure enough, she looked at Mr. Muscles and said, “That was a no.”

  “How about after lunch, we get together?” His tanned features cracked into a confected smile.

  Tabitha shook her head.

  I was glad when the waiter arrived with our drinks. My eyes must have been signaling for help because the effeminate waiter whispered, “Are these men disturbing you, ma’am?”

  I nodded.

  He mumbled something to one of them, who then shuffled off, but not before sneering at us.

  “What a douche,” said Tabitha. “He can barely move he’s so muscle-bound.”

  I nodded. “He walks like a bear.”

  Two women walked past, arm in arm. One had a T-shirt that read Vagitarian.

  “She’s spelled vegetarian incorrectly,” I said.

  Tabitha laughed. “You crazy girl. That’s got nothing to do with eating vegetables.”

  I frowned.

  “Vaginas. Get it… vagitarian?”

  I nearly spat the water I’d just sipped and laughed, recalling Chris’s use of that term as well.

  “That’s so fucking amusing,” said Tabitha, giggling.

  “It sure is.”

  As we sat there, enjoying our delicious lunch, we were entertained by the panoply of strange beings fluttering and strutting by. From women wiggling along in very tight, skimpy gear, some with butts that poked out so much, Tabitha and I conjectured they were padded.

  There were tattooed men everywhere. Lots of beards, and older, tanned men that I was sure were at least thirty years older than their stunned faces suggested. There were men that were women and women that were men.

  “I haven’t had this much fun in ages, Clary,” said Tabitha.

  “Yeah, it beats going to the circus,” I said.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  After lunch we headed for the auction. Even though it was due to commence at three in the afternoon, I needed time to view the items properly and closely. Everything was up for sale, and since it was a large mansion, we were in for a long day.

  When we pulled up at the impressive pre-war mansion, Tabitha whistled. “Do you think we’ll be greeted by Norma Desmond?”

  I chuckled at Tabitha’s reference to the fading starlet from the 1950s film Sunset Boulevard.

  “I don’t know. But I’d love to run into a William Holden look-alike.”

  “Oh… yeah,” crooned Tabitha.

  I pressed the buzzer and explained who I was. The gates opened, and we drove up the snaky driveway.

  After I managed to find a place to park, a security guard came to meet us.

  “Follow me,” he said.

  The grounds were magnificent—ancient willows amongst flourishing bushes, statues of goddesses, and birdbaths. It had that same old-world charm as Aidan’s beautiful estate.

  As we paced the path my body rang with anticipation at what delightful goodies awaited us inside. I never tired of beauty. I could never have imagined that this would become my life, being able to buy all that my heart desired. It was so strange that at times it felt as if I were living in a dream.

  When we stepped through the French doors, my eyes fell upon a collection of Mucha prints.

  “Oh…” I sighed loudly. I stood close to inspect the pretty frames of draped women embedded in a celebration of swirls. “Alphonse Mucha.”

  “They’re pretty,” said Tabitha.

  “They’re not just pretty, they’re sensational posters from the Art Nouveau era.”

  A couple of men joined us. They were about our age and good looking in that super-confident-rich-boy-way.

  “My mother was rather fond of those,” said one of the men. Due to his gym gear, I figured he belonged to the house.

  “Hi. I’m Nathan, and this is Jason,” he said, pointing to his friend, who was also dressed in a similar casual fashion.

  In a flirtatious mood, as always, Tabitha flashed an encouraging smile. I held out my hand. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Clarissa, and this is Tabitha.”

  “You’ve come for my auction, I take it?” Nathan asked. His lips formed a slight curl after he ran his eyes up and down my outfit.

  I looked out of place in my 1960s textured, black-and-green-polka-dot dress. But then something told me that it didn’t matter what I wore as long as I had a checkbook in my bag. I could’ve turned up in my pajamas, and they’d still serve me champagne. Money did that to people. The richer you were, the more eccentric you could be.

  “Are these”—I pointed at the Mucha frames—“up for sale, as well?”

  He nodded. “Sure are. Everything is. It’s all mine now. And even though I appreciate beauty”—his warm green eyes rested on my face—“I’m more into contemporary designs.”

  Jason, meanwhile, had cornered Tabitha. I heard him whisper something about a casting call. Mm… I thought, Probably more a casting sofa.

  We were off to a good start. Two seriously overconfident dudes hitting on us.

  As I watched the rest of the potential buyers entering, I could see that we stood out as odd for that type of event. Nathan probably thought we were interlopers. There to see how the rich lived, in the hope of meeting rich young men.

  I decided to call Aidan to ask about the buying the Muchas. I imagined the gilded frames on the red wall in the dining area.

  Tabitha, meanwhile, chatted with Jason while Nathan hung close at my heels like an eager puppy dog.

  I stepped away from the trio and grabbed my phone out of my bag. I pressed on Aidan’s handsome face.

  He picked up straight away. “Hey, princess.”

  “I hope I’m not disturbing you,” I said.

  “Never. How’s the auction?”

  “That’s why I’m calling. I know you sent me on a mission for objet d’art and I’m getting around to looking at those, but I’ve stumbled upon six framed Muchas. They’re Art Nouveau posters of neo-classical women. They’re just exquisite. I can send you a couple of images if you like. I thought they’d look lovely in the dining room.”

  “Baby, buy whatever your heart desires. I’ve just spent all morning going over my finances and discovered I made a billion dollars in the past week. The pie just keeps growing. We’re ridiculously rich, angel.”

  “You’re ridiculously rich,” I said with a chuckle.

  “What’s mine is yours, Clarissa. And baby…”

  “Yes?”

  “I love you.”

  My heart stopped. He’d never told me that over the phone before—in bed while in the throes of passion, but not in the sober light of da
y.

  “I love you too, Aidan.”

  “Bye, sweetheart.”

  “Bye.” I put my phone away in my bag.

  I floated on a dreamy cloud, all warm and fuzzy, when Nathan approached me and asked, “Can I offer you a drink?”

  I glanced over at Tabitha. Jason held a bottle of champagne in the air, ready to fill her glass.

  “No, I’m good. I’m driving.”

  He nodded. His sparkling eyes lingered. I was trying to think of ways of giving him the brush-off without seeming rude.

  “I best keep moving. I’m pretty keen to see everything before the auction starts.”

  “I can show you around. If there’s anything you really like, I’m happy to negotiate a price so that you don’t have to wait for the hammer to go down.” He raised his eyebrows with an eager smile.

  “Now that you mention that, I would like the six Muchas.”

  He cocked his head. “You’re aiming high. They’re the big-ticket item.”

  “I’m not surprised. I still want them,” I said matter-of-factly.

  “I’ll have to have a chat with my advisor on those.”

  “I’m happy to bid for them like everyone if need be,” I said, looking over at Tabitha, who was laughing and joking with Jason. I felt an uncomfortable groan in my tummy. I hoped she wasn’t about to cheat on Grant. That friend of mine was in heat and out of control.

  When I finally caught Tabitha’s eye, I crooked my finger at her.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I hope you’re not leading him on.”

  “No. He’s a producer. He wants me to go in for a screen test. Can you believe it?”

  “Yeah, of course I believe it. I’ve been trying to get you to Hollywood for years. You’re a natural, Tabs. Just don’t fuck him.”

  She saluted with two fingers on her forehead. “Yes, Mom.”

  “Are you coming?”

  “Lead the way.” She looped her arm around mine and cast Jason a little smile, encouraging him to follow. “I think they like us, Clary,” she whispered.

  “They can stare, but not touch.”

  Figurines of women in tulip-shaped gowns, upper bodies arched and heads fallen back, staring at the moon, stole my breath. I was in heaven. Nathan’s late father certainly loved Art Deco. There were so many, I was like a child in a candy store. My “wows” bounced off the walls with each artifact. It was not going to be easy, considering there were three rooms of objects to look at.