A pianist came out after dinner and we stood. He bowed to Daniel with his full tux and thick glasses and took his seat at the bench. He began playing tinkling soft music that floated into the hanging garden. The lights twinkled along with each note.
Daniel stood and reached down for my hand. “May I have the first dance?”
“Yes,” I answered, buzzed just by being with him. Daniel led in a soft rhythm along with the tune. Holding onto my hand and my waist like I was made of eggshells.
“You say that you trust, yet you resist,” Daniel said, his head bent over mine, words breathed into my hair.
“It’s not you.”
“You need time,” he said, and I could feel him holding me ever the more fragilely.
“No,” I said, looking up at him. “I’m ready.”
He leaned his head down to kiss me, and our lips met. Our bodies touched as he pulled me closer and I felt his desire below. He loosened his grip on my waist when I felt him, allowing room for a gap between us, but I didn’t take it. I deepened the kiss and he took it further.
“I want us to make love,” I whispered onto his lips, breaking away.
He looked down at me, taken. Then he smiled and kissed me again.
“I’m happy you said something rational,” he said rueful. “I was going to tell the pianist to leave so we could make use of his instrument. A bed is a better idea.”
“Is it, though?” I replied.
“Petrov,” Daniel announced, as I stared into his green eyes. “Thank you. That is enough for tonight.”
The pianist closed the keys and made his way to the door. I smiled up at Daniel.
“Tell the house no disturbances,” Daniel added the afterthought, eyeing me hungrily. The door shut with a groan and click.
“What do you want me to take off first?” I asked, letting go of him and stepping backwards towards the piano.
“The top. Then the bra. The skirt. The rest,” he said, standing very still.
I stopped, removing my underwear first. I dangled them and he watched them fall.
“Rule breaker,” he said and took a small step forward.
He followed me at a slow pace as I removed the rest and posed in front of the piano.
“Now you,” I said. He lifted off his shirt, his body flexing as he moved. His hands went to his belt line expediently, then he closed the gap between us.
“Do you want to know how I got by without you?” he said, his hand adjusting himself. “There wasn’t a shower that went by where I didn’t picture you like this. I’ve pictured you all ways.”
“I see you there, too,” I said, as he planted his hands on either side of me, on the piano. I reached out my hand to him and slid it inside his peaked boxers. He made deep noise of relief as our skin made contact.
“What I wouldn’t do to watch you,” he whispered.
I slid my hand from his length and up his muscled chest, over his hard abdomen and pecs, then curled my hand around up around his neck and gave him a light kiss on the cheek on tip toes. Then I hiked myself upon the piano resting my hands just inside his. I crossed my legs, and he opened his eyes. He lifted my leg under the knee then stretched it over his shoulder, resting my ankle behind his ear kissing the inside of it once, then I pointed my foot out and pressed him back.
I spun and laid down, crossing my legs. He ran his hand down my chest to my naval my own hand beat him to my center. I parted my legs.
He leaned my head back, I could feel the weight of my hair cascading off the edge of the piano.
“If there ever was a sight to make blind men see,” he said.
I kept going slowly, my back arched when I was close. He leaned down with his hands poised beside me on the piano’s edge and tilted his head to kiss me. His hands snaked down to mine and pulled it up.
“Will you sit up for me now, Gabrielle,” he breathed. I obliged, and he spun me around to the edge to sit.
“You gorgeous creature,” he said, looking into my eyes. I aided in relieving him from his fabric while his hand went to my breast.
“I love you, Daniel,” I told him.
“I love you, Bree Valentine,” he replied and we kissed. He squeezed me tightly onto him, and we were a perfect fit. We went slowly, and he led. When we were done, we slow danced to no music. I didn’t put my shoes on when we dressed. As I walked carefully not letting the heels of my bare feet touch the floor, he scooped me up and carried me back into the house and to his bedroom.
“You should call your sister,” he said, kissing me as he laid me down. I wrapped my leg around his waist. “It will be a long night.”
The next morning Daniel found me downstairs in the garden. I sat on the garden bench with my knees drawn to me, one of his white dress shirt covered my underthings. He approached me and brushed back my hair behind my ear and gave me a kiss, then stroked my lower lip.
“Good morning,” I smiled. “You just missed Tristan on the phone. Vi and Hunt are bringing him over after breakfast. Hunt’s cooking.” I said amusedly, picturing him in an apron.
“Excellent,” he said taking a seat beside me, still only in silk pajama pants. They hiked up over his fantastic derriere and ran flat in the front across the plain of abdomen, divoting twice where his muscle cut near his hip bone. Sitting down only accentuated his fitness.
“I was thinking. There are a lot of flowers in there. There are places that could use them. Hospitals. And retirement homes. I could make a call.”
“Jeeves will collect them and take them wherever you decide.”
“You don’t want eyes discovering your secret cave.”
He smirked. “Some secrets are necessary.”
“Even from me?”
“No.” He rose from the bench, extending me his hand. “Come see,” he said, and led me in.
“Incredible,” I said taking in the room. It was magical at night, but in the day it was alive.
“First, let me show you.” I followed him around the vines center area where the ceiling was only one level. “I keep my vehicles here,” he said as several automobiles became visible. A black shiny Mercedes G-Class with chrome trim; the one I’d seen pick up Hunt. A silver Ferrari. And a McLaren.
“Why do you need secret vehicles?” I asked after I’d walked around inspecting them. I stood in front of him and looked up from the G-Class.
“I had this house from long ago. It was purchased in Ahmed’s name. When I became CEO of a global operation, it made sense for me to own property here, so I transferred it back. At that time, I purchased this back building in a shell corporation title. It was prepared in case I found you. A one in seven million chance, Hunter said. I did. With the unexpected bonus of Tristan. I can’t boast it as a personal feat. It was pure accident.”
“There’s no such thing,” I replied. “What is it you need to run away from so hard?”
He didn’t say.
“That night you showed up at my door. You weren’t trying to get me to run away. You wanted us both to run,” I recalled to him, fitting it together. “To where?”
“To anywhere, Gabrielle,” he replied.
“From whom?”
“You’re missing the objective,” he said. “With whom.”
He leaned against the car and pulled me close. “I am free now. I can create success anywhere. Bring you anywhere, with our son. I have alliances separate from my origin but even if that changes, I have outgrown them all. We have no masters.”
“I don’t know what horrible things you’ve been through with Hawk as a father, some but not all, I suspect. But I’m very sorry for them.” I stroked his hair, and a tear fell from my eye. Desired man. Untended boy. Feared from the moment he could spell his last name. Respected and admired from the moment he emerged from the lake of boyhood. His guide, an abhorred figure with a compass blazing South. He knew the right road, and electively sacrificed a part of himself every time he took wrong one as long as he believed the destination was right. How many more wrong path
s can a man take before he becomes unrecoverable? Before he becomes the road he travels.
“Do you see me, Bree Valentine?” Daniel asked.
“I do.” He pulled me against him.
“I would have looked for you until I was an old man and wanted you even in a walker. But…I believe you came just in time.”
“I’m not saving you, Daniel,” I said voiced so clearly it was nearly distilled but feeling a wet streak make a path down my cheek. He drew me back, keeping his hands wrapped above my elbows.
“You are here. You are with me. I clipped your leaves and your wings and you soared higher, away. But you came back. Not because of my enforcement. You came back to me and shared your grace because of your highest beauty. And with that, I am saved in you without you ever lifting a feather.”
“I am not her,” I said seriously.
“I am not him,” he replied simply. “I am much worse.”
“You are good, Daniel.”
“Perhaps Naneet would say you have many lives, too. In the protest that falls from your lips, I find myself in your eyes. Bathed and nearly drowned. Bree Valentine, in them I am a convert.” I looked down, feeling my cheeks grow warm.
“I know when I am being deceived,” he continued. “I have seen a thousand and one expressions in the eyes of women. I am not deceived. If I’d only happened in your shop, a stranger, if last night had been our first meeting, it would have happened. In any lifetime. You are for me. Do you still protest?”
“Yes,” I replied, relaxing myself and falling into him. “You forgot to say that you are for me, too.”
“Come here,” he said. We kissed and I began to turn around to face the car, but he wouldn’t let me. He carried me to the tailgate of his Mercedes truck and we made love. Tender and powerful, he never let me shut my eyes.
He was refastening his shirt over me while I played with the drawstring of his black silk pants. “Can we look at them one last time?” I asked.
“Please. They are for you,” he said, satisfied with the number of buttons, and stood back, extending a hand towards me. I took his warm hand and followed him as he drew back the hanging curtain of orchids and came to the center. The sunlight came in slanted through the skylights making the area look like a natural stage.
“So much work,” I said handling the hanging vines, letting go of his hand. The orchids had been woven in other types of leafy greenery, but the flowers seemed innumerable. The white was crisp and soft and the green popped. “I’ll call around today. I have a few ideas who can use them.” I was saying taking a guess at the potted ones, there may have been sixty, varying sizes and heights. I found the one I would keep. I looked up to see Daniel seating himself upon the piano bench and lift up the key cover. He tested the keys, and then arranged his fingers and laid them down on the keys in earnest, hitting a chord. He restarted, twice, when the playing came back to him quickly. I didn’t interrupt. I joined him and leaned against the piano side, watching his expert fingers move across the keys.
“Is that Listz?” I asked. He nodded his chin and glanced up. I grinned. He wove it into a different, even faster pace, and I closed my eyes taking in every note. Then it changed again and I thought I recognized but couldn’t say for sure the composer. It grew deeper, rhythmically, even dark, then settled somewhere in the middle stirringly. I listened intently as it seemed to be winding down, then it changed again. Not a new song, a new ending. It got lighter, invoking rapture and joy. Slow then fast then slow, then twinkled like a constellation at its end. The music had ended for several seconds, one light note hug in the air, and I felt his eyes on me. When I opened my eyes, a small smile played on my lips but his intense stare startled me.
“What?” I said.
“Do you feel all right?” he asked, his brows furrowing together and his mouth a line drawn in concern.
“Fine. Maybe a little flustered from last night,” I replied. I did feel a headache coming on. It had been a late night though. “I could use an herbal tea.” As I finished the words I felt something wet drip onto my lip. Post nasal drip maybe allergy from the flowers. He watched me intensely wipe it away and looked down at my hand reflexively to see the blood. He stood up. I raised my hands to protest but my head began to swim. “I’m going to go back in for breakfast. My blood sugar must be low.”
He moved towards me as I spun around to get to the back door, back to the garden. My hand went to my head as the piercing pain grew sharper. I was glad Daniel stayed close. I felt his strength as I folded over, and the world went absent of any color at all. Pain seared my head, as something revealed itself. An image. I screamed, more and more, silently. All I could think of was hurt and chaos, but a soft light warmed my nerves. Maybe I was dead? But no, though it glowed beckoning my soul from its case, this wasn’t a tunnel.
It was a memory. Of Daniel and I. Five years ago.
Chapter 34 - Remember, Remember, the First after December
It was the night I’d written about in my manic journal, News Years Day at night, when I’d gone searching for him. The night when we fell in love, and madness. He’d waited for me inside the woods. And followed me out to the street…
“Lead the way,” he said, extending his hand out. “I’ll follow.”
My fingers fidgeted, concealed inside coat pockets. In the back of my mind, pain surged. And I knew I wasn’t really here…I was remembering. It was me and Daniel. He was there; he’d made it back to the park. And despite the alarm of recognizing all of this, the scene played on. “Where would you like to go?” I asked, a shy Virginia girl all over again.
“Anywhere you want,” he said.
I frowned, thinking, while he stared down at me with all the time in the world in his posture. “Well, what would you like to do?” I asked.
“Whatever you want,” he replied. My eyes shifted from him, a quick head to toe, and then to the city. I was thankful he’d made it through the night and come back to meet me as I’d made him promise but had no plans beyond that. When he saw me enter the clearing, he came to me. Silently, I put away my deep relief and turned the way I’d come. He followed me to the sidewalk where we stood.
I began walking and he joined me, slightly apprehensive, at my side.
“The scarf looks good on you,” I complimented politely. He lifted an edge of wool from where it hung around his neck, glancing down.
“I’m rather fond of it now,” he remarked.
“It’s a good one,” I agreed.
“Did you want it back?” he offered.
I shook my head. “No, a deal is a deal. Thank you for the cab, though.”
“It was my honor,” he said sincerely, making an unexpected gesture—a minute bow of his head, his hand lightly covering his heart—a decidedly regal act. We continued walking, stumped in silence, soggy sandy sediments crunching on pavement under our weight, miniatures mattresses on microscopic peas.
He angled his face to me and we walked, beginning conversationally. “So you like chouquettes?”
“Yeah,” I answered, relieved for the small talk. “I had them in France everywhere, but they’re hard to find here,” I lamented.
“Do you like to travel?” he quizzed.
“I love it,” I admitted. “I love seeing new things,”
“Did you go to Paris?”
“Yes,” I said, immediately smiling. “It was amazing,” I added with a note of whimsy. “Have you been?”
His chin dipped in a nod. “Yes, I’ve been.”
“I guess it is just a train ride away.”
“Pardon?”
“You know, the tunnel?” I explained dumbly.
It took a moment to click. “Oh, yes. I usually get there differently,” he said casually. “I mean, I got there differently,” he amended.
“The ferry can be fun, too,” I added, seeing my assumptive error. “I go to school with some kids who did that and boarded at hostels. It’s probably more fun to see it that way, right?’
“Right,�
� he said with a stiff nod. Way to stay out of landmines, Bree. He probably thought I was a snob. I was quiet, mentally chastising myself. We mashed more peas.
“May I ask why you were alone last night?” he inquired.
“I was out with some friends. We got separated.”
“Why didn’t you call someone to help you?”
“Well,” I answered, pondering the question. “There really wasn’t anyone to call other than them, and they didn’t answer—my sister and her girlfriend, I mean. They’re pretty popular, and they met some guys to hook up with. So I was on my own. It happens.”
He thought for a moment then looked down at me. “You’re not like them,” he concluded.
I didn’t look up. “Not really,” I confessed. No, I suppose I wasn’t like them at all. Boys didn’t fall to my feet, I wasn’t on any lists at the trendy nightclubs, and I didn’t fit in exclusive inner circles—all things I’d come to terms with—but the reminder was deflating.
“These sound like terrible friends,” he stated observationally.
“They’re not bad,” I defended simply. “They just have their own lives.”
“I don’t think I’d like them,” he added.
“I didn’t ask you to, but why?” I asked, turning to face him full on.
“You deserve better,” he stated simply.
“It’s no big deal,” I shrugged, tucking my hands in my coat pockets.
“And your parents?” he asked, pursuing his original line of questions.
“Oh, my father doesn’t live here. I’m from…out of town,” I answered, not wanting to reveal too much. “He still lives in our hometown with his new girlfriend.”
“He shouldn’t have let you so far away from him.”
“Why?” I puzzled.
“Because it’s dangerous here and you should have a man to watch over you. He should be here to take of you.”
In the Land of Milk and Honey Page 45