Her Rules

by CC MacKenzie

  Her eyes went sharp. "I can't believe you still haven't forgiven me."

  "There's nothing wrong with my retentive memory. I recall a very big drama and at the end of it a demand, marriage or nothing. I remember selecting nothing."

  "Look," she said, leaning towards him to give him an eyeful of her amazing breasts, to show him what he was missing. "It takes a lot for a woman to admit she was wrong. I want to apologize for walking out on you without a word, not even leaving a note. I was selfish."

  Watching her face, the way her cheeks went prettily pink, now made him wonder if she could blush to order. She'd always been the most consummate actress, a talent that had made her excel in her line of work.

  "You should have known how I would respond to an ultimatum."

  "I made a terrible mess of things. All I can say in my defence is that I was inexperienced. I'm sorry."

  "It was three years ago."

  "I was too young, too full of stupid and foolish pride. You must know I married him only to get back at you. You refused to commit to me, to us."

  "That was indeed stupid."

  She opened her mouth to speak, then paused as the waiter took their order. He watched her flirt with the good-looking server who was professional enough not to flirt back. Her scent was familiar, and he knew she'd worn it just to remind him of times past. She had been young, just eighteen, but with the calculating mind, the cunning brain of a born seductress.

  They'd had some good times at one time, and he'd had feelings for her, at one time. Therefore, he would accept her expression of regret, for what it was worth, and that would be that.

  When they'd ordered food, Natalia took a tiny sip of her wine, eyes challenging Olivier over the rim of the narrow crystal glass. "Apology accepted?"

  He dipped his head just once. "Si, of course. The past is now in the past."

  Her eyes flickered for a moment, before she beamed.

  "God, three long years. You're a super-star, and engaged to be married. When's the big day?"

  The apparent guilelessness in her body language, the smoky voice, did not fool him, not for a moment. Here, at last, was the point of the meeting.

  "Soon," he said.

  "Is it a big secret?"

  "It is private."

  Eyes fastened on his, she traced a sharp and blood-red nail up the side of the glittering champagne glass.

  "You love her."

  "With every breath I take."

  She blinked, sat back.

  "Must be some woman."

  "She is quite wonderful. Amazing."

  "Perhaps we could be friends, she and I."

  His gaze went hard as his voice went icy. "Never in a million years."

  Her laugh was now strained.

  "Well, that put me in my place."

  He didn't disagree.

  "What do you want?"

  She blinked.

  "To be forgiven for what I did to you in the past."

  "And?"

  As her green salad and his grilled sea bass were served, he kept his eyes on her.

  "I suppose I just wanted to atone. Does your relationship with your bride-to-be offer you a tiny amount of... wiggle room?"

  Direct and to the point, although he'd received the message when her index finger ran circles on his hand.

  "Why don't you explain to me why I would do anything to break the trust, or her faith in me, of the woman I love?"

  "But..." The pink tip of her tongue ran over her full bottom lip in an unconcealed temptation. "A virile man, a man who must keep himself super-fit at all times, has certain... needs to be satisfied. Needs that one woman alone cannot possibly hope to fulfill."

  There was an open challenge in her dancing eyes, along with that let's-boogie-and-to-hell-with-it-let's-have-fun laughter in her eyes. Once upon a time, and not that long ago, he would have found all of it nearly impossible to deny.

  The woman was utterly shameless and totally without conscience.

  A small part of him was shamed on her behalf.

  "Before you do, or say, something that might embarrass you, Talia, let me say that I am completely in love, even infatuated, with Anastacia."

  She went absolutely still, even as she stared into his eyes, as if searching for the falsehood, or a weakness. She found neither. Deliberately, taking her own sweet time, she slid her finger from his hand, laid her hand back on the table.

  "So, you're that rare thing, a one-woman man? You're too young, too reckless, to make such a life choice."

  "If you understood her, you would realize why I love Anastacia. I would never betray her trust in me, ever."

  "Very well. If you say you're in love, of course I respect your choice and wish you nothing but happiness." Then she gave a jerky shrug, again with the fast and naughty-girl grin. "You can hardly blame a girl for taking a chance?"

  Actually, he could, but kept his mouth shut.

  Time to move the tête-à-tête on.

  "How long are you staying in London?"

  "My plans are pretty fluid. Actually, you might be able to help me." When he just gave her a bland stare, she had the grace to blush and this time he thought it was the real thing. "That was not some sort of back-door innuendo or proposition. I'm looking for a little financial advice. What to do with my big divorce settlement."

  "I am a soccer player, not a financier."

  "True. But you have people who advise you. People you trust."

  He thought of Nico.

  "Have you thought of property?"

  "I wouldn't know where to start."

  "I know someone who can help. I will ask him, but I cannot promise anything."

  Her smile flashed again.

  "I'm staying at Sandro's apartment, just until I get settled. I'll give you the address, contact numbers."

  "You move fast."

  She took the champagne glass to her lips, eyes dancing without apology into his over the rim.

  "A girl's got to look after numero uno, lover boy."

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Meanwhile, Danni and T.C. were doing a deep Google search on Natalia Loewe.

  "Well, well," drawled T.C. from her desktop PC. "Looky-look at this... seems our Talia is a bit more than a model."

  Anastacia sat curled up on the couch sipping another strong black coffee, which only made the nerves jumping in her belly worse instead of better. She wasn't sure that researching the woman was such a great idea.

  Maybe ignorance was bliss?

  "Yep," said Danni, as her nimble fingers flew over the keyboard of her lap-top. "She's not shy about displaying her considerable assets."

  "No way did mother nature bless her with those gravity defying breasts," muttered T.C.

  "Lots of women have implants these days." Anastacia hooked a finger in her shirt, peered down to check hers were still perky and snug in her bra.

  Danni's gaze caught the move.

  "There's nothing wrong with your tits, Banana. They're perfectly in proportion with the rest of you."

  "Unlike mine," said T.C. in a tone of utter disgust. "I'm seriously thinking of a breast reduction. Carting these babies around is impacting my back and neck."

  "A bit drastic, isn't it?" said Anastacia. "All you have to do is ditch the candy."

  "No need to be such a beeeeitch, Banana. Don't take your pissy mood out on me."

  "People pay good money to have your breasts," said Anastacia in a business-like tone. "I don't know why you're so hung up on them."

  "Easy for you to say. You should try buying clothes to fit. It's easy for you two skinny minnies. Not so easy for those of us with curves."

  "Men love curves," said Danni.

  "Who the hell cares what men love?" T.C. shot back.

  Since the argument was an old one and never the twain shall meet, Anastacia held up her hand.

  "Enough. What've you got on the slut?"

  T.C. spun back to her PC, scrolled down the screen.

  "She's just divorced a really o
ld guy. Really old. On the plus side he was loaded."

  Anastacia frowned. "She married him for his money?"

  T.C. slanted her a look. "It sure wasn't for his scintillating good looks, unless she's into decrepit. Seems she's dating a premier league footballer, Sandro Gillier. He's a bit older, too."

  Anastacia's struggle with her conscience was short-lived.

  "Found anything on her and Olivier?"

  "Nope," her besties chorused.

  Well, that was odd.

  "Hmm, he definitely slept with her three years ago. He said so himself."

  "Would that be in Italy?" asked Danni.

  "Dunno, might be."

  "We'll keep looking, but Olivier's romantic past is pretty uneventful. Until you. God, look at this, pages of stuff and Facebook and Twitter all about you, Banana."

  Anastacia scowled at her friend. "Someone's got it in for me."

  "Hmm, looks like his legion of adoring fans don't share his love for you."

  That information was not news.

  "This is what I get for snooping. It's Karma kicking my ass."

  Her cell phone pinged with an incoming message.

  It was from Olivier.

  Where are you? We are due at The Dower House this afternoon.

  Were they?

  First she'd heard about it.

  Did she really want to see Nico and Bronte after the way she'd spoken to her boss on Friday night?

  Nope.

  Her thumbs danced over the virtual keyboard. Can't. Am packing for Paris.

  R U sulking?

  Too busy packing to care.

  Over her shoulder Danni read the messages, made a clucking sound in her throat.

  "You are such a liar. You're sitting right here with us."

  "Have you packed for Paris?" When Danni just gave her a big eyes, Anastacia hunched her shoulders. "Of course you have. For a second I forgot who I was talking to."

  "Wait a hot damn minute there, girlies," roared T.C. She beaned Danni with a hard look. "Are you going to Paris with Banana? What about me?"

  Anastacia opened her mouth, shut it fast when T.C. jabbed a finger at her.

  "Well, I'm, um, going to cover the Paris charity fashion week," said a rosy cheeked Danni.

  T.C. gave her the stink eye. "You told me you weren't going."

  "I changed my mind. Thought I'd tag along with Ana..."

  T.C. narrowed her baby blues into icy slits.

  "That's a load of crapola. I thought you didn't want to tango with Mr. Growly. You said it so don't you roll your eyes at me, Daniella."

  "You'd better tell her," said Anastacia.

  "Tell me what?" demanded an irate T.C.

  Danni stood, scratched her head, sent Anastacia a very dark look.

  "Okay, okay. I kissed him. No biggie."

  T.C. blinked. "Kissed who, when and where?"

  "I kissed Pascal, a month ago, here in London."

  Cue a very stunned silence.

  T.C. spun to bean Anastacia with a very hard look.

  "You knew about this?"

  "She only told me yesterday."

  Now T.C. spun around to Danni. "Seeekrits? You kept seeekrits from us? Must've been some fucking kiss."

  Danni did the foot shuffle, folded her arms.

  "The man can kiss, okay?"

  "Tongues?"

  Danni blushed right up to her hairline, gave a jerky nod.

  "Teeth?"

  Omigod, the look of utter desperation on Danni's face had Anastacia slap a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh.

  Again, Danni gave a nod.

  "Deep throat?"

  "Will you just stop?" shrieked Danni.

  "Did he, or did he not, pop your cherry?" demanded a relentless T.C.

  Now poor Danni flashed crimson before the color drained from her face leaving her too pale. "No... I couldn't do it."

  T.C. heaved a very deep sigh. A sigh filled to the brim with bitter disappointment.

  "Daniella, maybe next time you should get piss-faced and get it over and done with."

  Now Anastacia leapt to her feet, she'd heard enough. All humor drained away replaced now by outrage.

  "How can you stand there and say that to her?"

  Danni moved between them, stepping into her natural role of peacemaker.

  "She didn't mean it the way it sounded." She beaned her friend. "Did you?"

  "Hell, you know I'd never, ever want anyone to hurt you, but you've developed a phobia. Maybe you need to change your therapist. You cannot go on like this. It's not normal."

  "What's normal?" asked Danni. "I just haven't met a man who can make me forget. Every time I reach the point of no return I panic. I freeze." She sat on the edge of the couch with a bump. "I'm a freak."

  Anastacia sat beside her, slung an arm around her shoulder.

  "No, you're not a freak. You have an issue that can be overcome."

  "Pascal is not taking the hint to leave me alone."

  "Then you need to take your courage in your hands and tell him why he is not the man for you. It's only fair to tell him and not keep him dangling in the wind."

  "That's it!" declared T.C. in a tone that just dared anyone to disagree. "I'm coming to Paris, too."

  "The more the merrier," said Anastacia. "There's plenty of room. The hotel's not open for business yet. The decorators are running behind."

  T.C. did a little dance, shook her booty.

  "Yay! Paris here we come."

  Anastacia had to laugh, even as a little voice told her she was very relieved. With Danni and T.C. in Paris, she wouldn't have time to fret over her boyfriend's ex-lover or extended family, online trolls, or anything else.

  What could possibly go wrong?

  Good job she didn't have a crystal ball, because if she had, she'd have got on the first plane to Bimini, or New Zealand.

  Somewhere far, far away from Paris, France.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  "I don't like being left out of things," said T.C. from her spot lounging on Danni's big bed.

  Danni looked up from laying tissue paper inside a silk top, folding it and placing it carefully in her suitcase. T.C. was one of those people who lay rather than sat, who sat rather than stood, and who stood rather than walk, and who walked rather than ran. Basically, she was laid back and chronically bloody lazy.

  "It's work."

  "So you say. You know what they say about Frenchmen? They know how to kiss."

  Since the comment hit a sensitive spot, Danni felt her cheeks heat and cursed the fact she was a red-head. In order to deflect her friend's attention from said cheeks, she reckoned attack was better than defence.

  "One of these days, you're gonna meet a man who's gonna drop you on your ass."

  "Never gonna happen. I like variety. It's the spice of life, etcetera etcetera."

  "Slapper."

  "And proud of it, sista."

  "Paris is Ana's gig. I'm tagging along because I signed up to blog about the charity fashion week."

  "I can fricking blog about it, too. The new make-up ranges the models are wearing are hot to trot."

  Danni cast a jaundiced eye over T.C.'s decrepit and slovenly sweat pants, the ratty T-shirt encasing amazing and unrestricted breasts.

  "If you don't start wearing a bra, those breasts are gonna hit your knees before you're thirty."

  T.C. shrugged.

  "None of my bras are comfy."

  "That's because you haven't been measured. You're wearing the wrong size, which is why the straps dig into your shoulders."

  "Nag, nag, nag. What the hell is the matter with you, anyway? You've been cranky beeeeitch all afternoon."

  Danni dropped onto the edge of the bed and chewed hard on her bottom lip.

  She had been cranky and bitchy, and she knew why.

  "Pascal Wolfe wants to have dinner with me in Paris tomorrow night."

  T.C.'s blue eyes went wide.

  "Ooooooh, living dangerously at last. I'm proud to
know you, babe."

  Impelled by a feeling of love and affection for the girl who, along with Ana, was her best friend, Danni spoke from the heart,

  "Sometimes I'm so sick and tired of the fear I carry with me day-in, day-out." There were times she found it hard to breathe. "Am I ever going to move on?"

  T.C shifted to sit next to her, gave her a big hug, her voice rough as she said, "Wanna talk about it?"

  "Maybe I need to." She looked into her best friend's bright blue eyes, eyes that had been the first thing she'd seen after regaining consciousness, along with a pale and worried looking Ana. Her friends hadn't left her bedside for a moment. When things went wrong, when her own parents had stepped away, her besties had stuck to her like glue ever since. They'd stepped up to the plate, that was what a real family did. "I know I miss out on a lot of things other women take for granted. It's just... I'm so scared of intimacy... but I'm self-aware enough to know it. I want to change. I do... I just don't know how to escape from the place I've trapped myself."

  "Is somebody forcing, pressuring you?" T.C.'s scowl was fearsome. "We've always been there for one another. God knows without you and Ana, I'd be an even bigger hot mess. You've always caught me when I fall."

  "Nobody's forcing me to do anything. You've always caught me, too." Danni hugged her back, denying to allow the hurt and torment that had damaged T.C.'s teenage years to take her down again. Danni might worry that it was too late for her to break free of the chains that held her back, but T.C. had broken her chains. Her bravery was an inspiration to all who knew her.

  "You taught me to have courage," T.C. said now.

  Danni shook her head. "I am nothing like you."

  T.C.'s brows flew into her hairline. "Excuse me? Who went to bat for me with my family?" Cue a long silence. "You did. You're the best at standing up for others, but when it comes to standing up for yourself, you're a pussy."

  "I'll fight to the death for someone I love. It's just..." she couldn't seem to put her feelings into words that made any sense. Just the thought of making love to Pascal Wolfe made her belly tremble - in a good way. And that scared the hell out of her.

  "Well, whatever has you questioning yourself can only be a good thing. I say go for it."