I want to shake my head and tell him he’s wrong, but I crave his touch more than ever. The feel of his naked body against mine lights up my soul and floods my mind, and I remember how it felt those two nights we shared. How it felt so right and real.
How it felt like that’s how we belonged.
He caresses my hair with his fingertips, softly at first, tracing down my neckline so very very slowly, every touch extended for the maximum height of pleasure.
A thrill rushes through me and unconsciously, my lips part, as if begging for him to kiss me.
Memory after memory fills my mind; the heavy swell of my breasts, nipples pebbled tight and aching for his touch, his hot smooth lips all over my skin, licking and sucking and tasting.
I shake my head. “No, no. We can’t. It’s not...”
“For the last month, I’ve thought of nothing but you, Melody. How you taste and touch and smell - the memories of that night together drives me wild. I’ve thought of nothing else. And I want it again. I want you in my bed.”
My breath is heavy. “Chase, no... you’re lying...”
“I’m not lying. That night, I made the boundary clear to myself: that you deserved a man who could love you. And I refused to step over it.”
“And now?”
“And now things have changed. We have changed.” He cups my cheek in the way he always does and I gasp. “I want you, Melody. I want to have you and possess you and keep you as my own. Every moment of every night, forever. I desire nothing else.”
“What about Mercedes?”
“Fuck Mercedes.” His lips hover over mine, every moment so agonising slow, delaying and postponing what we both need more than anything. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you. And now, you’re mine.”
He kisses me and my eyes fall closed, my body and mind shaking and blinded by the overwhelming passion and desire and ruthless domination and possession. His lips take me, hard and hungry and I consume his own right back. We’re lost in an endless sea of devouring emotion, as the rain and lightning and thunder riots overhead. But it feels like nothing. Nothing is important anymore.
Nothing but us.
He pushes me against the glass in a sudden violent burst, as his hands fondle through the wet strands of my hair, before moving lower, down my neck and shoulders and exploring every inch of my skin. I writhe and undulate in sensual pleasure, almost unable to breath, pressed against his hard muscular body.
His hands knead my breasts, pinching my pebbled nipples through the wet fabric of my shirt, and I scream out in ecstasy. At least, I think I scream. My mouth is open and words and hot breath are billowing out, but all I can think of is the feel of his hands touching me and his lips on mine, and his tongue tasting my own, stroking and caressing.
Suddenly, I feel his hands disappear under my dress.
I pull away from his lips.
“No,” I say breathlessly.
“Do not defy me,” he says, and kisses my neck.
I pull my head back, lost in the waves of passion, as his fingers trail up my thigh and curl into the elastic of my panties.
“You don’t love me,” I whisper.
“I love our child,” he says.
I pull back, and look into his inescapably dark eyes. “You do, don’t you?”
“Yes. Now let love go. Let it disappear and be happier than you ever imagined.”
“Oh, Chase!” I cry.
And in that moment, I let my dream die.
But I don’t care anymore.
“Yes,” I say in a blunt whisper.
“Yes?”
“Yes. I’ll marry you.”
He’s taken aback and stares at me. His lips curve into a wide smile, and for the first time, I realise he looks happy. Truly happy.
There may be no love, but we make each other happy. And with a baby, that’s all you need.
Dear god, I pray that’s all we need.
We have nothing else.
CHAPTER NINE
Melody
My hand squeezes Chase’s own as I peer at the rolling verdant hills and endless trees zipping past the train’s window. It’s a chilly evening, but there’s an entrancing sense of warmth from the sight of the setting sun playing peek-a-boo between the branches.
I look at Chase sat next to me. He’s engrossed in a copy of the Great Gatsby and a smile breaks out on my face when I realise the similarities between him and the eponymous titular character. Of course, despite his power and wealth, Gatsby was still capable and willing to love.
But that doesn’t matter to me, anymore.
My time with Chase ended in infamy. Once we had decided to elope, he made sure to inform Mercedes that marriage wasn’t on the cards, because he was marrying me instead. She broke an expensive vase and stamped on the picture of the doorman’s family.
“You know what? Fuck you! Fuck you both!” hissed the beautiful starlet as she picked pieces of glass out of her ludicrously expensive heels. “I don’t give a shit if you’re knocked up, you’re nothing but a whore. You’re not worthy of him.”
Anger flared in Chase’s eyes and he made a move towards her, but I stood in the way and stopped him.
“Come on, let’s go,” I said to him.
Begrudgingly, he took my hand and we made it to the door before Mercedes piped up again, shouting down the hallway.
“I’ll be waiting Chase,” she called. “I’ll be here when you realise the huge mistake you’ve made. This isn’t over!”
And then her shrill voice was silenced by the sliding glass doors.
We climbed into Chase’s red Porsche and gunned it down Madison Avenue.
“What now?” I asked Chase, the rays of sunlight now piercing the storm clouds and frosting his black hair with a trace of silver.
“I was thinking Vegas,” he said. “But my private jet is currently grounded in San Francisco.”
“We could take a flight from JFK and be there by the morning. First class, maybe? I always wanted to fly first class.”
He smirked at me. “Nothing else.”
But when we reached the airport, we found no available flights until the next evening. Agitated, Chase tried on his charm with the booking staff, and when that failed, he tried good hard cash. It didn’t work.
“It’s alright,” I said. “We’ll fly out tomorrow.”
“No,” said Chase firmly. “I refuse to wait. I want you to be my wife now.”
“That’s sweet, but what other options are there?”
“There must be something.” He paced back and forth.
“We could always take the train,” I offered.
“To Nevada? That’ll take even longer.”
“Not to Nevada. To Niagara Falls.”
He looked at me quizzically.
“I had a friend who got married there - it’s really romantic and there’s the sights and you get a private log cabin with balloons and the whole ceremony is right there on the falls,” I said wistfully. “And it’s only nine hours.”
Chase nodded. He took my hand to his lips and kissed it. “Sounds perfect.”
The train screeches to a stop and Chase’s attention leaves his book.
“Where are we?” he asks.
“Rochester. Still another four hours or so left.”
The train starts up again and Chase asks the serving lady for two glasses of champagne, adding: “Non-alcoholic.”
“Champagne?” I say, as she hands them to us.
“We are getting married. Isn’t it customary?” Chase says with a smirk.
I take a sip and return my stare to the hypnotic movement passing beyond the window.
“Is everything alright?” asks Chase.
“Fine, just fine. Great. No, amazing even.”
“But?”
I squirm. “Nothing really, things are just moving fast. Not that I don’t love that, but you kind of need a minute or two to let the world catch up to you.”
He nods. “It’s you family, isn’t it?�
�
My family?
Oh god, what does Chase know? Does he know who I really am? Of course, he must. He would never dare chance asking me to marry him without vetting me first.
But if he did, then how come he still wants me?
“Do you want to wait so your father can attend the ceremony?”
“My father?” I blurt out.
“Yes, do you want him there? I know it’s a long way from Iowa, but I can fly him out when my jet is cleared.”
My father has no need for a private jet - he has ten of his own. Chase must still be ignorant of my odious lie.
A deep sense of guilt fills my gut.
I want to tell him the truth, more than anything. But my family are his arch rivals, not to mention, finding out I lied about my entire life and who I am...
I’d lose Chase. I know I would.
There’s no way I’d risk that, not when I finally have him. Not with the baby on the way.
“I don’t really speak to my father,” I say. “At all, really. He doesn’t like me very much.”
“That can’t be true.”
“It’s okay, I don’t like him very much, either.”
“So it’s just the three of us, then?”
I feel giddy. “Just the three of us.”
Chase traces my stomach with his fingertips, a look of longing and happiness on his face. He curls a stray tendril of my hair behind my ear and I shake from the thrill. He leans in and we kiss. But it’s not a passionate and hungry kiss. It’s one of tenderness and protection and warmth.
He breaks away. “You know, I mean what I said, Melody. I cannot love you.”
“Shhh,” I whisper. “It doesn’t matter.”
And it doesn’t. I don’t need Chase’s love. If anything, I’m more scared of his hatred.
But as long as he doesn’t find out the truth of who I am, I have nothing to worry about. He’ll find out eventually, I know he will. But if I can just keep it from him long enough for him to realise how much he cares for me, maybe that’ll be enough to keep our family together.
I don’t have any other options.
“Damn it,” says Chase.
“What is it?”
“Your passport? Do you have it?”
“No - it’s packed up with the rest of my stuff at home. Why would I need it?”
“It’s no matter - I’ll have my people grab it along with your things.”
“Chase, why do I need my passport?”
He smiles gently. “I have a villa in Tuscany. I thought we could spend our honeymoon, there. It’s right on the coast. You’ll love it so much.”
“It sounds beautiful,” I say, feeling giddy.
He strokes my face. “Beauty demands beauty.”
I feel like my feet are going to lift me off the ground, but suddenly a pang hits my gut and I come crashing down to earth.
My passport has my name on it. My real name.
I’d used my mother’s maiden name to apply for the job with Harmony Records, but it was never my legal name.
Even worse, the back of my passport has my emergency contact details and next of kin - my brother Duncan.
“Do we really need to leave the country?” I ask. “Surely being together is everything? And I don’t want to put your people out.”
“Nonsense. You have no need to worry, my princess. This is their job. It’s what they’re paid to do.
I give him a wistful smile, hoping beyond hope that his people don’t open my passport and relay my lie to him.
Dear god, I hope Chase doesn’t read it himself.
I turn to the window and stare at the trees shooting past, and before I know it, I fall deeply asleep against Chase’s shoulder.
The next thing I feel is the soft caress of Chase’s lips against my forehead. I open my eyes and the bright sheet of light breaks from the dawn over the horizon, momentarily blinding me.
The train has stopped moving.
“Good morning, my princess,” says Chase. “Today is the first day of the rest of our lives.”
We depart from the train and a taxi takes us to the luxurious Marriott hotel.
“I thought we were staying in a cabin?” I ask, as the elevator ascends to the five star hotel’s penthouse suite.
“This is more my style.”
We spend the morning eating a lavish breakfast brought up by room service; seven carts overflowing with every item on the menu. My stomach grumbles as my eyes feast on the sight: waffles, French toast, poached eggs, pain au chocolat, bacon, fruit salad, butter croissants and more.
Afterwards, Chase escorts me to an obscenely expensive bridal boutique in the centre of town.
I sift through the price tags and nearly have a heart attack.
“So, this is the one you choose?” asks Chase.
“What? No, I don’t know. I mean, I was just looking at the price.”
“Do you always check out the price before you admire the clothes?”
“Old habits die hard,” I say. “It is really beautiful, though. Guess why it’s the most expensive in the shop.” My fingers trace the beaded white fabric.
Chase beckons over the store clerk. “We’ll take this one.”
“Chase, you can’t!” My voice drops to a whisper. “It’s forty thousand dollars.”
“Beauty demands beauty,” he says, as if that’s the end of the matter.
Before I can reply, he’s selected a dashing tuxedo for himself and we depart to grab our marriage license.
When we return to the hotel, a bridal bouquet awaits us by the wall to wall windows that look straight out over the falls.
It’s like a dream, and every moment my heart lifts with pure happiness.
And a sense of dread that any moment I’ll wake up and be back in my admin job, no friends, no family, and ignored by everyone.
But the dream doesn’t end. It goes on and on, and before I know it, we’re making passionate love against the glass window, exploring every inch of skin with our lips.
I throw him on to the Persian rug next to the grand piano and mount him, riding him over and over, my perky swollen breasts bobbing up and down rhythmically with every thrust of his manhood. And as the ecstasy fills my body completely, I climax, over and over, exploding for hours, covered in his kisses and his touch and his hot breath.
We lay naked on the carpet, his gigantic arms wrapped around my waist, embracing me and pulling me closer.
“We’re late,” I say.
“I know,” he says.
“The wedding on the falls, the appointment was three hours ago.”
His finger caresses my hip and I shudder. “I got distracted,” he says.
“We should go.”
“We should.” His fingers dip lower, journeying towards my inner thigh and my tender sex. My skin feels on edge and I want him inside me again.
“So let’s get up.”
“Let’s,” he says, and kisses my neck.
We make love again.
It had been four hours since our appointment time, but it was nothing a wad of bills couldn’t solve. To begin with, how Chase solved every problem by just throwing money at it irked me at a basic level. But now I’m finding it such a comfort.
We finally marry standing on the edge of Niagara Falls, the soft beauty of the landscape enveloping us in a future of limitless possibilities - but with one thing for certain - we would be together.
Another couple bares witness as we’re pronounced man and wife. Hundreds of balloons of green and red and blue lift into the sky, and the band plays and the falls bellows before us like the applause of hundreds, and Chase takes me in his arms and we kiss.
Our first ever kiss as man and wife.
And I couldn’t be happier.
We board my husband’s jet at Niagara Falls International Airport and set off for Italy.
Inside, I find my possessions packed into four neat boxes. I rip the top one open and rummage inside, desperate to find my passport.
My heart thunders against my chest and I can feel the world about to crumble beneath me.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Your name. It’s wrong.”
I dry swallow and it’s the size of a bowling ball.
“We should have it changed,” he says. “To Melody Strong.”
“You haven’t looked at it?” I blurt out, suddenly cursing myself for my idiocy.
“I don’t need to, I can see you any time I want.” He hands me the passport and I take it, trying my damn hardest to not rip it from his grip and give myself away.
“You’re right,” I say. “I’ll change my name when we get back to New York.”
“You don’t have to,” he says. “If you’d rather keep you family’s name...”
“This is my family now. You, me, our baby. This is my new family.”
Chase takes me in his arms, and we kiss once again. “I will protect you. Always. That I promise.”
I hold him tight. “My father, he promised to protect me. But that protection turned into overprotection and then isolation. He thought I was too weak to handle this world.”
Chase pulls me back and looks me up and down. “Then you’ve come far, my princess. Tell me, will you ever tell him of our marriage?”
“You want to meet him, don’t you?”
“I did marry his daughter.”
“Oh, Chase. It’s so complicated.”
“Shhh,” he whispers. “You do not need to tell me about abhorrent fathers.” A look of deep forlorn crosses his face. “As long as you are happy, that is all I care about.”
I suck in a long breath, and blink back tears. “I am.”
He strokes my cheek. “I will protect you.”
I gently kiss his fingers. “We’ll protect each other.”
He grins. “Come, show me more of your life. Who was Melody Strong before she was Melody Strong?”
I lead him over to the boxes and start rifling through. I pull out a framed picture of Liz, Richard and myself, at the beach. Another of us at a cabin in Vermont. And another of the three of us in front of the Washington Monument. It dawns on me that there are no pictures of my family at all and that should seem strange, but I don’t care. And Chase doesn’t pick up on it.
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