A Promise of Passion

by Maggie Carpenter

  “Practice, and how are you? Sorry, I was a bit preoccupied. Are you feeling better?”

  “I am,” she declared, “thanks for those pills,” then abruptly rising to her feet, she raised her glass. “Here’s to Harry Harrison, brilliant entrepreneur, generous benefactor, creative genius…have I left anything out?”

  “Handsome devil,” he laughed.

  “Oh, definitely a handsome devil,” she agreed, “and thank you for sharing this wonderfully wicked Chateau with us, and hosting this dinner.”

  Everyone murmured their approval, drinking and smiling, but as Vivien sat down she was suddenly giddy, and warm, very warm. She waited for it to pass, then gulped down some wine, trying to alleviate the dryness in her mouth she’d experienced when she’d first arrived.

  “Where’s your girlfriend?” she whispered, shifting closer to Harry and touching his arm.

  “Sitting next to me,” he whispered back.

  Not understanding what he meant, Vivien leaned over the table to look at the seat beside him.

  “That’s not Alana,” she muttered, pulling back and staring at him. “That’s Charlie, the lighting guy. At least, I think he’s the lighting guy.”

  “Stop being coy,” he grinned.

  “I’m not being coy,” she frowned, genuinely bewildered. “What are you talking about? I’m very confused.”

  “You, silly girl, I meant you. You’re sitting next to me, you’re my girlfriend.”

  “Me, but I’m not your girlfriend.”

  “Sure you are, you just haven’t accepted it yet,” he murmured in her ear. “Soon you’ll be living in the lap of luxury, and out of that hovel you call a flat.”

  “You mean, your penthouse?”

  “Of course, or we can get a new place, anywhere in the world you want.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re saying to me,” she mumbled, reaching for her wine and taking another long swallow, “and I don’t live in a hovel. You must be getting me confused with someone else, or are you joking with me?”

  “I’m not joking with you, not for a moment,” he said, speaking in hushed tones. “I know you’ll see the light. It’s just a matter of time.”

  “This is very strange,” she muttered, gazing up at him.

  “There’s nothing strange about it, and I have something for you, but I don’t want to give it to you here.”

  “Where then,” she asked, wondering why it was becoming more and more difficult to focus.

  “I’m not sure, but I will give it to you, and I will give it to you tonight,” he said firmly.

  “I can’t wait to see it,” she managed, still not sure what he was talking about.

  Reaching down to her plate, she picked up a piece of fried cheese covered in a rich red sauce and placed it in her mouth, but her tongue felt thick, and she was having trouble chewing. The appetizer finally melted and she was able to swallow it down, then staring around the table, she didn’t understand why everyone was red, bright red and appeared to be glowing,

  “Everyone looks bizarre,” she mumbled. “Are they wearing masks?”

  A man’s voice asked her what she wanted to eat for her main course, but she had no idea, and wasn’t even sure if it had been Gustav or Harry who had asked.

  “Whatever,” she said casually, waving her hand in the air.

  “Pick something,” the voice said.

  “Fish,” she exclaimed, “and potatoes and peas. Can I have potatoes and peas with fish?”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Fantastic, I’m fantastic. I just need fish with potatoes and peas, please. Ha, ha, that’s funny, potatoes and peas, please.”

  Gustav panicked. His star model, after only a glass of wine, was sloshed. Pushing his chair back from the table, he reached behind her and caught Harry’s attention.

  “She’s drunk,” Gustav frowned.

  “She’s letting her hair down,” Harry said, completely unconcerned. “She’s had a crazy few days, it’s good for her.”

  “Not if she’s hungover tomorrow morning, it’s not. She must be bright and ready to go to work.”

  “Fair comment,” Harry nodded. “Let’s cut off her and get some food in her.”

  “Merci,” Gustav said gratefully.

  Harry ordered river trout and vegetables for Vivien, and he and Gustav made sure she drank no more wine. As the meal came to an end, her behavior began to return to normal, and as dessert and coffee was placed in front of them she let out a yawn.

  “How are you feeling?” Gustav asked.

  “Tired again,” she sighed. “I had a strange turn though, when I first sat down.”

  “I know, I saw it,” he said grimly.

  “It was weird. Everyone looked strange, and I couldn’t focus.”

  “But it’s gone away now?”

  “Yes,” she nodded. “It’s gone away. Must have been too much wine on an empty stomach.”

  “After we finish our dessert, I will take you down and show you the dungeon, and then you must go to bed. We need you fresh and sparkling in the morning.”

  “That sounds like a plan,” she nodded.

  She didn’t want to tell him that she didn’t feel fine at all. Her head wasn’t hurting, but she was experiencing strange sensations. Pins and needles were prickling her scalp, and her stomach was rolling.

  I’ll go downstairs with him, see what’s what, and then go up to bed. It must be those pills. I’ll drink lot of water then go to sleep. I’ll be fine by the morning.

  Having finished their dinner at the intimate cafe in the village not far from the Chateau, Alana and Henry were relaxing over snifters of Cognac. Reaching across the table, she took his hand and looked at him gratefully.

  “I am so fortunate to have met you,” she said warmly. “Everything you said made so much sense. I don’t know why I couldn’t see it.”

  “You weren’t thinking logically. When you take logic out of an equation, it can’t possibly make sense.”

  “Said like a true physicist,” she smiled. “I think, in matters of the heart, there is very little logic.”

  “I have no experience in that field,” he remarked, frowning as he spoke. “I have yet to fall in love. I often wonder what that will feel like.”

  “For you, it will be truly terrifying,” she laughed. “You won’t understand why two and two suddenly no longer equal four.”

  “Stop, stop,” he begged, raising his hand. “Just hearing that makes me queasy.”

  “That’s how I felt when I was sitting in front of that lake today, queasy and confused.”

  “Heavens, you poor girl.”

  “I was a poor girl,” she exclaimed, “but you’ve saved me! I don’t know what will happen, but at least I can see things clearly now. I understand what’s been going on, and I have plan. A simple one, but still, I have a plan.”

  “And it’s an honest plan,” he said sternly.

  “Yes, Henry, it’s an honest plan, and I am also going to make you a promise.”

  “How exciting,” he grinned, instantly lightening up. “A famous supermodel is going to make me a promise. This is the stuff of fantasies.”

  “When you do fall in love, and you will,” she said, raising her eyebrows, “you can call me, and I’ll do my best to help you through the maze. Your logic will be useless.”

  “Brilliant!” he exclaimed. “Are you ready to go back and face the proverbial music?”

  “No, though I will anyway,” she sighed, “but be warned. I might end up knocking on your door for a hug.”

  “You can knock on my door any time!”

  “Thanks, Henry. One way or another, I will work things out tonight.”

  Dominic fastened his seat belt, and taking a breath he stared out the small oval window. He’d made the flight with only minutes to spare, but as he waited for the doors to be closed and the plane to back away from the gate, he wondered if he was he doing the right thing, dashing off to surprise Vivien.

  Glanc
ing down at the package he’d been afraid to pack into his carry-on bag, he pulled off his jacket and laid it over his lap. The flight attendant would insist on locking the precious gift away somewhere, and he didn’t want to risk it being damaged

  As the plane began to move away from the gate, more doubts began creeping into his head. Had he done the right thing stepping in to help Walter? He couldn’t let his friend suffer under Harry Harrison’s thumb, but he knew that wasn’t the only reason he’d offered to help. He’d stepped in mostly because he’d been worried Harry’s enormous wealth would lure Vivien away from him.

  A deep frown furrowed his brow. He hated himself for being so insecure, he hated himself for not having faith in what he and Vivien shared, and he hated Harry Harrison for being such a manipulative asshole. The plane turned around for its speedy run along the tarmac, and Dominic had to admit he was racing off to Vivien’s side because she was at the Chateau, and Harry, with his selfish plan, was lurking, ready to pounce at the first opportunity.

  The plane lifted into the air, and closing his eyes, Dominic prayed for Vivien’s safety, he prayed for more faith, then prayed that she would keep her promise, and listen to her heart.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Conversation around the table in the formal dining room of Chateau Paradis Hédoniste, had continued long after the dessert had been devoured. The excited chatter had revolved around Gustav’s new fetish evening wear, a spin-off from the Spank Me Now clothing line, and as the gowns were described to Vivien in painstaking detail, though she was genuinely interested, she couldn’t focus; all she could think about was her need to escape. She was hot, she felt sick, and the strange prickling in her head had intensified.

  “I can’t wait to wear it all,” she said, thinking her comment sounded completely inane.

  “I think Vivien needs to get her beauty sleep,” Harry declared, seeing her face strangely flushed, “or some fresh air.”

  “Fresh air,” she replied. “I feel hot. Is it hot in here?”

  “Not especially,” Gustav remarked. “I still want to show you the dungeon. Harry, why don’t you take her outside for a bit, and I’ll meet you down there. I have to discuss a couple of things with the crew here before we call it a night.”

  “Is that okay with you, Vivien?” Harry asked, wondering if she should just head on up to her suite.

  “I want to go outside, but I do want to see the dungeon afterwards.”

  “Then I guess that’s the plan,” Harry declared as he helped her stand up.

  “Let me hold on to you for a minute,” she mumbled, looping her arm through his elbow for support.

  “You can lean on me any time,” he said suggestively.

  They made their way slowly through the lobby to an elegant salon that opened to an expansive terrace, but Harry found himself constantly looking around for Alana.

  Why the hell am I thinking about her? Fuck it. I’m an idiot. This isn’t about Alana, it’s about Vivien. I got a bit distracted while I was playing this out, that’s all, now it’s time to move forward, it’s time to close this deal.

  As they stepped out on to the terrace, Vivien sucked in a long, deep breath. The cool night air against her skin reminded her of the cold cloth her mother would rest upon her forehead as a little girl. The memory was comforting, and she started to feel a little better.

  Offering a wide concrete balustrade, with huge urns boasting a variety of exotic bushes spaced twelve feet apart, the terrace overlooked the sweeping driveway and the edge of the car park. It was softly lit by replicas of old-fashioned oil lamps, and as Vivien lifted her head to gaze up at the inky sky, Harry put his arm around her shoulders.

  “There’s something I must tell you,” he said softly. “I have a confession to make.”

  “What about?” she asked, turning to face him, hoping it wasn’t anything serious. She couldn’t deal with anything serious.

  “Last year I saw your picture in Fashion Fun, advertising Spank Me Now jeans. You took my breath away. I’ve wanted you ever since.”

  “You mean, for Bare Beauty?”

  “No, well, yes, but I mean, for me. I’ve wanted you for me. The main reason I flew you over here was so I could meet you.”

  She was fairly sure she knew what he was saying, but she also felt muddled, and the last thing she wanted was to say something completely stupid and inappropriate.

  “Here,” he continued, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing a black velvet box, “this will explain it.”

  Dropping her eyes, she saw that it was longer than it was wide, and it was reminiscent of the boxes Robson would give her, boxes containing expensive jewelry. She’d made her peace with Robson, and that was all well and good, but it didn’t eradicate the man Robson had been back then, and what he had done to her. The recall sent a chill shuddering through her body. Was history about to repeat itself?

  No, I won’t let it. I’m with Dominic. I won’t-

  “Open it,” Harry insisted, breaking into her thoughts.

  Her hands trembling, she lifted the lid, and stared, completely baffled, at the gleaming item laid out before her. There was no diamond necklace, or sapphire bracelet, or ruby pendant, but an oversized golden key.

  “That is the key to your future,” he said softly. “It can open any door. All you have to do is accept it. It will give you anything you ask for, and take you anywhere you wish to travel.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” she whispered, running her fingers across the lustrous metal.

  “Be careful when you lift it out. It’s twenty-four-karat, solid gold, so it’s heavy, but like I said, it can bring you whatever your heart desires.”

  “My heart,” she murmured.

  Suddenly, without warning, she was struck by a wave of intense dizziness, and the dream began running through her head. She was holding the key, the oh-so-heavy key, and turning around she saw the frame with the hearts drifting towards her. She knew it was as light as the cloud upon which she stood, then a soft, warm breeze floated around her, carrying Dominic’s whispered words; listen to your heart.

  “Vivien? Vivien?”

  Harry’s voice snapped her out of the vision, and opening her eyes, she found was leaning against his chest and his arms were around her.

  “Are you all right?” Harry asked urgently. “Let’s get you inside.”

  “I’m okay now,” she muttered, slowly pulling back. “At least…I think I am.”

  “It’s cold out here, you’re shivering. We’re going inside right now,” he said firmly, and with his arm around her shoulders he walked her back through the tall French doors and into the salon.

  “Can we sit down?” she asked, gesturing to a nearby couch.

  “Of course, yes,” he said worriedly. “Can I get you anything? Water? Tea? Anything?”

  “No, I’m fine, well, sort of,” she frowned, feeling the return of the horrible prickling inside her head, and the nausea rolling in her stomach.

  “So,” he pressed, “the key, will you accept it? Just think, Vivien, think about what it can do for you.”

  “The key can’t do anything for me,” she muttered, and realizing she was still holding the box, she placed it on his lap.

  “You’re just not feeling well,” he said hastily. “You don’t know what you’re saying. Don’t answer until you’re feeling better. Sleep on it.”

  “I don’t need to sleep on it,” she said, fighting a new, sharp pain above her eyes as she stared at him. “I do know what I’m saying.”

  “Be smart, use your brain, and then you’ll say yes,” he exclaimed, nodding his head as if showing her what she needed to do.

  “You look like one of those dogs that people put next to the back window of their car,” she remarked. “You know, the ones that have the heads that bob up and down as the car moves?”

  “You’re not making any sense,” he said impatiently. “You haven’t heard anything I’ve told you.”

  “You said you wanted
me when you saw me in a picture, the one that was in Fashion Fun.”

  “Yes, I did, and I still do.”

  “You’re the one not making sense,” she sighed, rubbing her forehead. “You didn’t know me then, and you don’t know me now. You’ve dreamed up a fantasy from a photograph.”

  Harry felt himself breaking out into a cold sweat. Was she right? Had he been chasing nothing but a figment of his imagination?

  “The key can’t give me what I want,” she continued, “because what I want, you don’t own, and you can’t buy.”

  “You’re wrong about that,” he managed. “Everything has a price, and-“

  “There was a brief moment when it all felt so tempting,” she mumbled, cutting him off. “I’m ashamed about that. Happiness lies in the heart, and what comes from the heart can’t be bought, and it can’t be made up, it’s just there, in all its shining glory, shinier than your key, shinier than any key.”

  Dumbstruck, Harry stared at her. She was rubbing her forehead, and she’d been wincing as she’d spoken, and though her words had been almost a whisper, like a razor sharp knife they had sliced their way into his being.

  “I’m speechless,” he muttered. “I don’t even know what just happened. I’m at a loss.”

  “You just got in touch with yourself.”

  “Fuck. I can’t believe you said that,” he frowned. “Those words were meant for you.”

  “I know,” she frowned, then groaning, she doubled over, “but I don’t care. I can’t talk anymore. I can’t do anything anymore.”

  “You need to go to bed.”

  “Gustav, the dungeon,” she whimpered, wondering how she could even contemplate making the effort to keep the meeting.

  “Fuck the dungeon,” Harry grunted. “Come on, let’s get you back to your room.”

  Helping her to her feet, he walked her slowly out into the lobby, but they were only half-way across when she wobbled. He tried get a better grip, but before he could grab her, she had slipped from his grasp.

  When Dominic had arrived he’d rented a car, but the Chateau was an hour outside Paris, and by the time he arrived the sun had given way to a crescent moon, and the stars were sparkling in the cloudless, infinite, dark country sky. Turning into the driveway, the multi-colored lights had transformed the landscaped grounds into a picture from a fairytale, and as he’d stared up at one of the Chateau’s towers, he’d almost expected Rapunzel to appear, her golden hair flowing from the window as she waited to be rescued by her Prince.