After his meeting with Conner, he rushed me out of the door, claiming there was so much to see and so little time to see it. He was right.
We’ve walked hand in hand everywhere and I can’t even begin to remember the names of all the monuments, buildings, plazas and museums he’s showed me, but I do know I will never forget the visions or the feelings. One could never leave it behind because it is, by definition, divine.
Of course Alex has been charming, chivalrous and wonderful but he has also retreated from me a little. I can feel it in his hands, slightly tense and lighter in their grip. His eyes show less warmth, too, as if he’s trying to keep me at arm’s length for some reason. Whether something else is on his mind or he’s simply thinking of my reaction to the earlier conversation I don’t know, but I know I can’t cope much longer without knowing more or just getting us back to the way we were last night.
We’ve stopped in a very expensive looking restaurant near the Vatican City to have coffee and cakes and are sitting at a second floor private terrace. The view is simply breathtaking and the surroundings are luxurious and decadent with a hint of that modern chic you see in all the glossy magazines. Utter Bliss, albeit quite out of my normal comfort zone.
“Do you want to go out this evening or stay in?” he asks casually, stroking my thigh with his fingertips.
I think about that for a while. Do I? I have no idea. I need to know more about what I’m letting myself in for with this man. There’s no doubt that I trust him in some way, well sort of, but to open up my body to some sort of torture and risk my sanity in the process? I’m not so sure. Although, regardless of my hesitation in the matter, I somehow know deep down that he’ll never really harm me. Not that I‘m actually sure what the definition of harm is anymore.
“Elizabeth, are you still here?” he says again, pinching my thigh playfully. “What do you want to do tonight?”
“I want… No, I need more from you... About you, about your past,” I blurt out abruptly, my brain obviously not managing to find a more subtle way of delivering that statement.
He stares out onto the plaza for a while as I gaze at him, studying him. Not that there’s a lot to study because his face is absolutely expressionless, and with his sunglasses on, I can’t even see his eyes to get a feel for what he’s thinking. The corners of his lips slowly curl upwards.
“Look back over the past, with its changing empires that rose and fell, and you can foresee the future too,” he muses, still looking toward the Vatican.
“Excuse me?” I reply, slightly startled by his random response.
“Marcus Aurelius was an emperor and soldier of Rome, a philosopher. That’s his quote. Do you think that by knowing which empires fell around me that you’ll be able to understand me more or see a clearer future for us? Do you want all the dirty secrets?” he says, turning his head towards me, his tone level and calm but with just a hint of something else.
Wow... He’s quoting Roman emperors? Christ, does he have to be so bloody superior?
“I know that I need to feel you give yourself to me as much as you want it to be returned. There may be things in your past that haunt you and I don’t expect you to tell me everything, but I do need to know that you’re honest when I ask a question of you. That’s the only way I can trust you to take me and my feelings forward. I don’t doubt your ability to protect me physically, Alex, but I have to defend my emotions if you can’t be truly honest about who you are.” He sighs and turns back toward the street.
“I’m not sure what else I can give you, Elizabeth. I’ve given you more than any other simply to please you and help you see who I am. I’ve never lied to you and I don’t intend to, but I won’t answer something if I’m not ready to tell you the truth. I’m not sure my past would be very endearing to you and I won’t risk losing you because of my history,” he states, pinching his brow and looking troubled. “Can’t you just accept the man I am today? My past is simply that, my past.”
“Who you were defines who you are now, Alex. There are too many versions of you in the present tense. I’m confused as to which one of you I am dealing with most of the time and I would just like to know who I am meeting on a daily basis. I certainly want to know who I am meeting in the bedroom,” I reply, giggling at my own sarcasm.
His shoulders began to shake and he full on laughs at my statement, a glorious laugh that has me grinning like a fool and falling in love a little more. Turning towards me and flashing me with a true megawatt smile, he takes my face in his hands and leans his forehead on mine.
“You are wonderful, Elizabeth. I love your honesty and incorruptibility. You can’t imagine how refreshing it is to have someone remind me of myself every now and then. I must seem quite the enigma to you.” He chortles, almost to himself. “Please believe me when I tell you that I want to let you have all of me, but I can’t just magically erase the parts that are lacking. There are many things you do not want to know about my past. There are also things in my present that I can’t tell you about. Not because I want to lie to you but because I simply want to keep you safe from certain elements of my life. You are far too special for me to risk your disapproval,” he says as he kisses me briefly. He lets go and returns to his upright position, picking up his coffee and wrapping his lovely lips around the cup.
“I don’t care about the parts that are lacking, Alex. I just want to know that you’re honest enough to admit to them,” I respond with a wry smile.
“Okay. So let’s say I’ll try your way if you try mine. Is that enough for you?” he asks, resuming his gaze at me across his coffee. “And you will always know who you’re meeting in the bedroom, Elizabeth. He’s basically the same man. It just depends on how you react to him.” What?
“I have no idea what that means,” is my thoroughly confused response. He’s the one that changes into someone else.
“I became that way inclined because you challenged me and it pissed me off. Having said that, I did quite enjoy the ramifications of your confrontation so please don’t stop on my account,” he says, grinning like a naughty schoolboy.
“So are you saying that if I conform to your every whim there will be no more of whatever that was?”
“Well, you’ll have to let me have a little fun, Elizabeth, and I absolutely do not want you to conform in any way, shape or form. What happened before was a punishment. Whatever happens going forward will depend on how happy you are to let me embrace my aggression with you,” his says as his mouth turns up into a devilish grin that has me trembling with delight. My mind immediately starts castigating my traitorous body. It’s confusing. Everything is with him involved.
“So you have differing versions of dominance as well then? The shower, the plane, the study?” He chuckles again.
“No, Elizabeth, I have one version of dominance but we’re trying something different. Let’s just say I’m building you up to something and hoping you’ll understand when you get there.”
The thought of more than has already been is bizarrely making my legs buckle despite the fact that I’m sitting down. I have no idea what he has in store but for some reason, my body wants more of whatever it is. I hang my head at my thoughts, feeling some sort of shame sweep across me. He growls, lifts my chin gently and looks deep into my eyes. I swear he reaches my soul with the intensity of his soft stare. Warm, blue eyes meet mine as his mouth quirks up a little.
“No, Elizabeth, not unless I tell you to. You’ve no need to feel ashamed or guilty about this. This is who you are. Nobody will ever make you feel uncomfortable again while you are with me, and if you are not then I’ll have taught you to admire yourself more. You’re doing so well. Just stop thinking about it so much and go with how it feels. Trust me to show you the way.”
He continues with his hold on my chin until he’s satisfied that his little pep talk has hit me square in the jaw and then moves back to study my face for any twinge of emotion. I wish he couldn’t see right through me so easily. Is it even possibl
e to read someone so quickly?
“I think we need a night out and a few drinks. Actually, I know I do,” I say abruptly, changing the subject. He laughs and moves some hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear.
“And she says I’m changeable.” He chuckles and kisses me quickly.
“What? I’m just answering your earlier question,” I reply with a mock shocked face. “Do you know somewhere dark and loud where you can take my mind off my emotions?”
“I definitely know just the place for that, Miss Scott,” he says with a mischievous wink. “It doesn’t open until ten, though, so we’ll go for dinner first,” he continues as he glances at his watch, picks up his phone and texts furiously to someone. “Does this mean you’re agreeing to my terms, Miss Scott?” he asks, looking at his phone.
“No, Mr. White. It means I’m in Rome and I’d like to continue my rather interesting experience for a while longer,” I reply, looking through my lashes at him and batting them for the full on tease effect.
His strong jaw twitches as he reaches up to rub the back of his neck without looking at me and I watch as he draws in a long breath and blows it out quietly. Narrowing my eyes, I realise that he always does that when he’s confused or nervous of something, rubs his neck. Probably why he doesn’t gamble that much. Mr. White does have a weakness then.
“You are just as confusing, you know? Every time I think I’ve worked you out, you throw me again. It’s really quite... disturbing. I’ve never been so perplexed by a woman,” he says with a frown.
“Mmm... I’m glad you find me so bewildering,” I reply, gazing again at the view.
“So am I, Miss Scott. So am I.”
Finishing my coffee, I glance down to the street below us to notice a black limousine pull up in front of the cafe and roll my eyes at the thought. Why does everything have to be so damned expensive around him?
“Couldn’t we have just taken a cab?” I ask without looking at him. “I assume that is yours?”
“Why on earth would we do that?” he replies with a quizzical tone. Clearly he doesn’t get it at all. I don’t know why I bothered to question it, to be honest. “Come on. Let’s get home and changed for dinner,” he says, pulling out my chair and offering me his hand. We descend the stairs rapidly and arrive at the car where a swarthy looking chauffeur holds the door open.
“Oh shit, we haven’t paid,” I ramble as I turn back to the restaurant in a rush.
“We don’t have to. I doubt the price of a few coffees will break me.” His face is confused. I return his expression.
“What do you mean? Is this an Italian thing I’m not aware of?”
“Ah, I see the confusion now. Look at the name above the door, baby,” he says, pointing upwards and putting his phone to his ear.
“Bianchi,” I announce in a crappy Italian accent. It still means nothing to me.
“It means White’s.”
He smiles and launches into a dramatic conversation with someone on the phone in Italian.
Well, of course.
~
I assumed that dinner in Alex’s world would probably mean somewhere swanky. I was right. The atmosphere in here is very uppity and overwhelmingly glamorous. Not understanding the language has made me feel a little insecure again but Alex has somehow made me come back to him and feel light-hearted again.
“Don’t you ever go anywhere normal?” I ask, casually, pushing my five pieces of food around the plate.
“What do you mean? I come here often. That’s quite normal, isn’t it?” he replies sarcastically.
“I mean fish and chips style normal, you idiot.” My giggle bursts from me at his clipped response.
“I can’t remember the last time I ate fish and chips,” he muses, frowning and stabbing at some asparagus as he holds it on the fork and looks at me. “Makes this food look a bit stuffy, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t know about stuffy. It’s very good. I just wondered if this is typical for you or if there’s a more relaxed version of you hiding in there somewhere?”
“If you want the more relaxed version of me, I’m afraid you’ll have to dig deeper than even I have for a while. I feel like I lost that man a long time ago,” he says, no emotional response to his own statement whatsoever.
“Doesn’t that bother you? Do you remember him at all?” I ask, looking into his beautiful eyes and trying to see the man underneath, the one behind the enigmatic smiles and rigid fronts.
“I don’t try to remember him. He wouldn’t have done the things I’ve done or seen the places I’ve seen, or made the money I have for that matter. He would have been sitting in some dive of a bar, snorting cocaine and fucking anything that moves. I hope I’ve moved on from that rather successfully.”
Well that was blunt.
“Wow... So, no naughty fish and chips then?” I ask on a smile.
“No, no fish and chips, Elizabeth,” he replies with a smirk.
“You could have both, you know?” I state, licking my lips, picking up a piece of carrot and frowning at it. “It’s not all that naughty for you, is it? Or relaxing, frankly.”
“Searching for yet another version of me, Miss Scott?” he asks, watching my mouth with those icy blue eyes. “I thought you were confused enough already.”
“I’m just looking for the real man behind you, Mr. White. I think he’s hoping to make an appearance soon.”
~
I’m very glad that I’ve opted for a very special dress that Belle let me borrow for the trip, although there hasn’t been a lot of dinner eaten because there isn’t an inch of room left in it. The shimmering grey cocktail dress clings to every curve on me and the halter neck lifts and enhances my breasts to perfection. It’s a little shorter than I’d normally go for, around mid-thigh, but something about Alex just seems to make me go the extra mile to please him and frankly, I can’t stop feeling sexy as hell around him. The matching grey three inch sling back shoes lengthen my legs and make me feel incredibly elegant so I’ve left my hair down, put some curl to it and kept my make up very simple to soften the whole thing a bit. And anyway, what’s the point of make-up in a club? It only slides off your face within twenty minutes.
The car is winding its way around the small streets of Rome as we travel toward the club. It’s already eleven and I’m well on my way to being quite tipsy. According to Alex, a man called Pascal Van Der Braak owns the place. He’s apparently quite the scoundrel across the European circuit and is very well respected for his connections and wild parties. He’s warned me to stay close to him for the evening because of Pascal’s complete lack of care when it comes to any sort of appropriate behaviour around women. He is, and I quote, “A complete sexual predator and someone who is used to getting exactly what he wants, when he wants it.” Great.
Of course, he’s also one of Alex’s few good friends. Why would I have thought anything else?
He sounds just like the man I’m currently sitting next to. Unfortunately, this only furthers my nerves at meeting the man. One Alex in the room is definitely enough for me. No way I’m going to be able to cope with two because in all likelihood, the man is probably another completely explosive and unpredictable character. I know this because Alex only appears to have friends of that nature so it’s completely obvious to me that I’ll probably be an utter disaster when I meet the man. It’s just what I need to feel relaxed and comfortable for the evening, not.
“Drink your champagne, Elizabeth, and relax. Really, he’s not all that bad. Just play his games and you’ll be fine. I promise I won’t let him near you. Unless you want me to, that is. Do you?” he teases, smirking. My eyes shoot to his in surprise.
“What? You don’t expect me to do anything with him? I mean, he won’t expect it, will he? Because I can’t do that sort of stuff and I-” He laughs and pulls me across the seat toward him, abruptly cutting me off with a rather passionate kiss.
“No, baby, you’re mine and I’ll let him know that. I really just wanted
to see your reaction. He is quite the charmer though. I’ve never known a woman turn him down. In fact, I don’t know many men that have turned him down either,” he says, chuckling and reaching for his drink.
“Do you mean he’s bisexual?” I reply, eyes wide open at this titbit. Not that I mind, I just haven’t met many actual bisexuals and the dynamic confuses me a little if I’m honest.
“Oh, Elizabeth, he’s all kinds of sexual. I doubt there’s a category for what he is and even if there was one, he’d hate to be labelled with it,” he replies while he gazes out of the window and drifts in his own thoughts.
“Oh. Right,” I reply, downing my glass of champagne. “I’ll have another then please,” I say, lifting my glass and nodding toward the bottle. Clearly I’ll need it to deal with whoever Pascal is.
“Good girl. Go steady though, you’ll need a clear head for this place,” he counters with a beaming smile as he returns his eyes to me, his black hair glinting as the street lights dip in the window. “I want you to remember everything about the evening.”
“Oh, I thought it was a dance club. Isn’t the point to get a little drunk and let go?”
“Well dancing does go on and it’s definitely a club. It’s just a different sort of club,” he says wickedly, steeling me with a hardened, sex-fuelled gaze that has my panties almost combusting. “Your letting go is a prerequisite of entering the building.”
“Right well, I’ll be careful then,” I say, watching him sink another large Cognac. Where the hell are we going? To the devil in his lair apparently. I’m not at all sure I’m comfortable with the prospect and nervously sip at my drink in the hope of quelling the rising panic.
“Good, just stay close to me and do as you’re told. Now, take off that beautiful lace g-string you’re wearing and give it to me.” I stare in open-mouthed shock at him as he smoulders in the corner, swirling his Cognac around the glass.
“You expect me to go in there without any underwear?” I practically shout at him. “After what you’ve told me about the place and its owner?”
Seeing White Page 34