by Suzy K Quinn
We decided that Ivy should travel with Tanya. It matched her nap better, and there was more room for her belongings.
Marc gives a curt shake of his head. ‘It’s not Tanya’s car. The number plate is wrong.’
Fear pricks my chest. ‘So where are they? They weren’t far behind us.’
Marc checks his phone. ‘It’s okay. They’re stuck in traffic. It looks like the delay could be a long one. But Ivy’s perfectly happy.’
‘Will she have enough milk?’
Marc’s lips twitch. ‘You packed five bottles. I should think that’s more than enough.’
‘Okay.’ My heartbeat slows, but not quite to normal. ‘I hope we made the right choice.’
‘We did. It’s better that Ivy travel with Tanya. You’re nervous.’
‘I’m not,’ I insist.
The driver opens my door, and I climb onto oil-stained concrete, staring up at the giant cruise ship.
Marc comes to stand by me, putting an arm around my shoulder. ‘Yes are nervous, Sophia Blackwell. You’re trying to hide it, but you are.’
I look over the enormous luxury cruise ship, as Marc’s arm holds me tight to his body.
Dimly, I’m aware of our suitcases being loaded onto a golden trolley and wheeled up a huge, red-carpeted gangway lined with potted palm trees.
Marc squeezes my shoulder. ‘Sure you don’t want to change your mind?’
‘I have to do this,’ I say. ‘It may sound selfish to you—’
Marc shakes his head. ‘It doesn’t sound selfish. It sounds immature.’
‘Marc, I’ve thought this through. Honestly I have. I want to be a good mother to Ivy. A happy mother. A role model. Acting is who I am. I’ve been miserable without it.’
Marc kisses my head. ‘Well we can’t have that. Time to board.’ He leads me towards the gangway. ‘Just one more thing,’ he says. ‘Before we get on the ship.’
‘What is it?’
‘You asked me not to get jealous.’ Marc’s hand drops to the small of my back. ‘I may have found a way to sidestep that ugly emotion.’
I laugh, taking tentative steps onto the swaying gangway. ‘You? Not jealous? Impossible.’
‘Right now, it’s very, very possible.’ He puts a hand to my arm, as I find my feet on the uncertain floor. ‘I’ve spoken to Nadia.’
I stop walking. ‘About what?’
‘About the movie.’
‘Marc? I’m not liking how this is sounding.’
The sea laps under our feet, grey blue and calm.
‘Hear me out.’ Marc’s lips tilt into a smile. ‘I’ve persuaded Nadia to consider me for the role of Nicky in her movie. I’ll be playing the teacher to your student.’
I laugh in shock, not quite believing what I just heard. ‘You did what? You can’t be serious.’
Overhead, a seagull squawks.
‘Deadly serious,’ says Marc, leading me up the gangway. ‘Benjamin Van Rosen was tolerable for the role at best. Nadia and I both agreed I’d be a better option.’
‘I don’t believe this.’ I snatch my hand from his.
‘Sophia. Think about it for a moment.’
‘You never do movies like this one.’ I grab the gangway rail. ‘It’s way too mainstream.’
‘I’m doing it to make your life easier.’ He pries my hand from metal and holds it between his.
‘How will this make my life easier?’ I say.
‘We’ll be playing out our relationship onscreen.’ Marc raises a dark eyebrow. ‘The worldly, dangerous man teaching the young, naïve girl. Benjamin Van Rosen would have been a bad match. Unbalanced. I’m a far better choice. I’ll give you the space to blossom.’
‘God Marc—’
He strokes my fingers. ‘Nadia was only considering Benjamin Van Rosen for publicity. She told me so herself. He’s in a high-profile relationship, and the press are desperate for interviews.’
‘So what – you just had him kicked off the movie?’
‘He’s still in the movie,’ Marc insists. ‘He’ll play your fiancé.’ He takes my hand again. ‘This isn’t all about jealousy. I can protect you. Make sure you’re nurtured rather than blown off the stage.’
‘How patronising.’ I walk away from him, up the gangway. ‘You shouldn’t have done this, Marc.’
He strides to catches up. ‘You must admit to being curious. The two of us in a movie together. Playing out our story on the big screen.’
‘Oh, so it’s our story now?’
‘Teacher and student. I’d say that was our story, wouldn’t you?’
29
As we board the ship, two suited attendants bow to us.
‘Welcome aboard, Mr and Mrs Blackwell,’ says one. ‘You’re our very first guests.’ He hands Marc two plastic, ivory-coloured cards. ‘Your keys sir. For the Captain’s Suite’
‘No one else is here yet?’ I ask.
The attendant shakes his head. ‘Not yet, madam. Would you like a staff member to show you around? Help you find your suite?’
‘It’s fine,’ says Marc, glancing at the key cards. ‘Thank you. I know where it is – at the front of the ship, on this deck. We’ll find our own way.’
‘Taking charge as always,’ I say, my words terse as we step onto the boat.
‘I find it usually works out for the best.’
Marc and I walk through a circular lobby area.
‘Not always,’ I snap.
‘I suppose you’d rather be fainting from exhaustion,’ says Marc, leading me by the hand down a long, wide corridor. ‘Or being knocked down by paparazzi.’
My feet feel soft, white carpet. It’s incredible – to think this palace actually floats.
‘I can’t believe you’ve done this, Marc. It’s beyond controlling.’
‘Sophia.’ Marc squeezes my fingers. ‘Do you know why I took this role?’
‘Because you didn’t want me playing out bedroom scenes with Benjamin Van Rosen.’
‘No,’ says Marc. ‘I read the script. Several times. I didn’t see Benjamin Van Rosen as the best lead. Not with you playing Violet. As I said, the balance is wrong.’
‘I’m sure he’d do a good job.’
‘But you wouldn’t, Sophia. Not beside someone like that. He’d give you no space to grow. Do you want to shoot a bad movie?’
‘No,’ I admit, feeling soft carpet give way to polished wood.
‘The two of us … we fit together.’ Marc squeezes my fingers for emphasis. ‘I can help this movie succeed.’
‘And jealousy didn’t come into it?’ I say, as we turn down another corridor. I’m a little disorientated now, and I have no idea how Marc knows where we’re going.
‘Not nearly as much as you might think,’ says Marc, making another turn. ‘This role wasn’t even my idea. Michael suggested it.’
‘Michael? You brother?’
‘Yes. My scoundrel of a little brother. He cares about you, believe it or not. And he came up with a workable solution to our problem.’
We pass a marble fountain, where metallic fish blow streams of water from their mouths.
‘You’ve been talking to Michael?’ I ask, as Marc leads me around yet another turn.
Before Ivy was born, Marc promised he’d let his lookalike little brother into our lives. But from what I’ve seen, Marc is still keeping Michael at arm’s length, especially where Ivy is concerned. I’m surprised they’ve been in touch.
Michael has only been allowed to visit his new niece once, under Marc’s strict supervision.
‘We met up in the city last week,’ says Marc. ‘But I’m still not comfortable about him visiting the house.’
‘You promised you’d start trusting him,’ I point out.
‘It’s been harder than I imagined.’
‘I don’t think that’s fair, Marc. He said he’d never see your father again.’
‘And to my knowledge he hasn’t.’ Marc leads me down yet another corridor. ‘But time will tell me everything
I need to know. Honestly, Sophia, I thought you’d be pleased about me taking this part.’
‘Pleased?’ I pull him to a stop. ‘That your jealousy has put another actor out of a job?’
‘Benjamin’s contract wasn’t signed,’ Marc insists. ‘Nothing was written in stone. And he still has a part in the movie. You’re being extremely dramatic.’
‘Oh come on.’ I shake my head. ‘You hated me shooting those scenes with Leo Falkirk in Rapunzel.’
Marc’s jaw goes hard. ‘Be careful, Sophia. Don’t say something you might regret.’
‘You have to understand why I’m upset.’
‘Listen,’ says Marc. ‘This isn’t about jealousy. You have my word. I read the script and thought we’d be the perfect balance for one another. Come inside the suite. We’ll talk.’
‘I don’t think we’re ever going to find our suite,’ I say. ‘This place is a maze.’
‘It’s right here,’ says Marc, leading me past giant vases of flowering bamboo. Ahead of us are ash-white double doors.
Marc pulls out a keycard and slides it into the door lock.
30
‘Wow.’ Beyond the doors is a wall of blue ocean and sky. Panoramic glass curves around the largest, most luxurious suite I could ever imagine. It’s like an apartment, with its own cocktail bar and Jacuzzi pool.
‘This is incredible.’ I step into the room. ‘We must have the whole front of the ship.’
‘Not quite.’ Marc slides the keycard into his pocket. ‘But I made sure you had the best suite onboard.’
‘You made sure?’ I can’t help grinning.
‘I made sure.’
Through the panoramic glass, I see a wraparound sundeck, complete with sun beds, cube tables and an icy-blue splash pool.
Our luggage has already arrived and is stacked up by the wardrobe waiting to be unpacked.
‘Is this really all for us?’ I ask, going to the panoramic window and staring at our huge sundeck.
‘Yes.’ Marc opens bi-folding glass doors, and fresh sea air rushes into the room. ‘I’m glad it’s luxurious enough to make you forget our argument for a moment.’
I look out at the glistening sea. ‘It’s done that all right.’
‘We have our own private spa too,’ says Marc.
‘Our own spa?’ Oh my god.
‘Only the best for my family,’ Marc laughs. ‘Only the best. And Ivy has her own bedroom. It leads through to the nanny suite. So no more waking in the night – you’re here to work.’
I feel a glimmer of worry. ‘Has Tanya sent any more messages?’
Marc checks his phone and nods. ‘Yes. The traffic is very bad. They’ve stopped in a roadside restaurant. They’ll be another few hours.’
‘A few hours?’
‘She’s fine. I trust Tanya, and so do you. Don’t do that.’ Marc comes to me, stroking my forehead. ‘She’ll be here soon. You have to get used to Tanya taking care of her.’
‘Yes, but—’
‘But nothing. You wanted to work. This is how it’s done.’
I nod, but my stomach feels unsettled.
‘If you’re having second thoughts, we can still leave the ship,’ says Marc. ‘We haven’t set sail yet.’
‘You know I’d never do that.’ I turn to him. ‘You promise you didn’t take this part because you were jealous?’
‘I promise.’ Marc holds my hands to his chest.
‘Promise, promise?’ I look up at him.
‘You, Mrs Blackwell, need a lesson in trusting your husband.’ He smiles down at me.
‘I do trust you.’
‘Ah yes. It’s the obeying that’s the problem, isn’t it?’ His smile grows.
‘Always has been. Call me modern, but I think a marriage should be equal.’
‘Equal? Really?’ Marc moves hair around my neck. ‘You know, you don’t look all that equal, tied to a bed with a gag in your mouth.’
‘That’s not fair,’ I murmur, my breath quickening.
‘Fair is overrated.’ Marc lifts my hands above my head and presses the backs of my palms to panoramic glass. ‘Have I convinced you I didn’t take this role with any ill intentions?’
‘I think so.’
‘Good. Keep your arms up like that.’
Marc turns me around so I face calm, clear ocean, the glass cool under my fingertips.
‘Stay there,’ he orders. ‘Don’t move. Don’t turn around.’
The heat of Marc leaves my body, and I hear him moving around the suite.
There is the run of a zip. The clunk of something metallic.
Then I feel Marc close again, standing behind me.
‘Don’t move,’ he says again.
Something rough runs down my cheek.
My breathing is hot and fast on the glass.
As the roughness moves to my lips, I see a doubled-over rope against my skin.
It moves down my jaw and onto my neck.
Marc taps it against the side of my throat. ‘I want you naked,’ he decides. ‘Turn around and take your clothes off.’
‘Is this a usual way for married couples to make up after an argument?’ I ask.
‘Do as you’re told.’
Obediently, I turn, lifting my white t-shirt over my head. Then I step out of my blue jeans and converse.
I’m wearing simple underwear – a yoga bra and g-string. It’s plain. Comfortable for travel.
‘And your underwear,’ Marc instructs.
I pull my bra over my head and slide down my g-string, letting it fall around my ankles.
‘Arms by your sides.’
Marc’s fingers go to my wrists, and realise he’s tying them together with the rope.
I shiver at its roughness.
‘Lift your arms again,’ Marc demands.
I do.
He loops the loose rope length over the curtain rail, a long, silver-blue pole that sits high above the window.
I’m suspended now. Vulnerable. My back to the water.
Marc stalks away, and I hear another zip pulled along.
When Marc returns, I see a tangle of black, knotted leather in his hands.
31
‘What is that?’ I murmur, mesmerised by the mess of string.
Marc runs long strands over the back of his hand. ‘A flogger. They used them at sea. For disobedient shipmates. Rather fitting, don’t you think?’
He drapes the flogger around my shoulder, and I see knotted leather resting over my breast.
My breathing quickens.
‘If a shipmate stepped out of line,’ says Marc, stroking the leather knots across my breasts, ‘he’d be lashed.’
I close my eyes, waiting.
‘Impatient, Mrs Blackwell?’ Marc’s voice is teasing.
Yes.
‘Do you want to see what I can do with this?’
I nod.
SNAP!
An electric shock zips over my skin, as Marc throws the flogger against my chest.
The knots hit like fire crackers, and I’m thrown back, my wrists swinging in the rope.
The flogger comes down again, and it hurts more this time as the knotted ends finding the stings they found before.
I moan, swaying against the rope, my eyes tight shut.
‘Do you want more?’ Marc asks.
I nod again.
SNAP! SNAP! SNAP!
Marc delivers three quick lashes, and as my skin dances with pain, my body softens to his control.
I moan louder.
‘If you can’t be quiet, I’ll have to gag you.’ Marc runs the flogger back and forth over my breasts.
Oh god. The anticipation. I can hardly stand it …
WHACK!
Marc cracks the flogger hard against my stomach, and I can’t help crying out.
It’s almost unbearable. I’m desperate for him. Desperate to have him inside me.
I’m barely aware of anything now – just the intense pain and pleasure on my skin.
Marc delivers one more hard blow against my breasts, strong enough to knock me back against the glass.
Then he drops the flogger and lifts me by my buttocks, placing me around his waist. I don’t notice him free himself from his trousers. Only feel the sweet relief of him sliding inside me, filling me up and making me ache with pleasure.
Oh god.
I’m floating on the ropes, my eyes swimming, my body on fire.
Marc is still fully dressed, and I feel the fabric of his suit as he lowers me onto him.
He holds me for a moment, hands tight on my hips. Then he moves back and forth.
I nearly faint with pleasure, feeling the hardness of him as I throb and moan.
We move together, over and over, swaying in perfect rhythm.
Pleasure comes in waves and then sweeps me away, soft and lovely.
The orgasm goes on and on as Marc moves. And then he comes too, closing his eyes and holding me tight against him.
I feel his chest, breathing against mine.
We stay for a moment, swaying together, the sea waving behind us. Then Marc kisses my lips, unhooks the rope and carries me to the circular bed. He sits me on his lap and unties my wrists, rubbing my red skin.
32
I don’t mean to fall asleep, but I do.
When I wake in the cabin’s luxurious round bed, I hear soft knocking at the door.
‘Who is it?’ I call out, rubbing my eyes and looking around for Marc.
‘It’s me. Tanya.’
I throw back my duvet and reach the door in half a second. On the other side, my little baby is in her stroller, blinking and smiling.
‘Hello beautiful.’ I grin at her big, curious eyes, then carefully unclip the stroller straps, pulling Ivy into a tight hug. ‘I’ve missed you.’
‘You would not believe the traffic,’ says Tanya, wheeling the empty stroller into our suite. ‘But this one slept pretty much the whole time. She’s only just woken up.’
‘She didn’t cry?’ I ask.
‘A tiny bit when we pulled over,’ says Tanya. ‘But then she was okay. Honestly, Soph, just perfect.’ Tanya, folds up the stroller with one hand and props it in the walk in wardrobe. ‘She’s such a good baby.’
I close the suite door. ‘She can cry pretty loudly when she wants to.’