Beautiful Creatures

by Lulu Taylor

  ‘You’re getting divorced,’ she said hurriedly.

  ‘True.’ He seemed to be struggling with himself. ‘But shouldn’t you be with someone closer to your own age?’

  ‘I’ve tried that,’ she said. ‘It’s no good. I need someone like you, Max. I’m not the same as girls like Jasmine and Rosie. And it isn’t about age. It’s about who you are, who I am …’ She looked at him beseechingly. ‘Is it because you still think I’m hopeless?’

  ‘God, no.’ He frowned into his whisky and his voice was gruff. ‘I think you’re anything but hopeless. And I like you very much. Too much. But I have to think of you. If we were together, people would talk.’

  ‘They talk about everything! And let them,’ cried Octavia hotly. ‘I don’t care about that! There are worse things, believe me. We … like … each other. We can’t pretend that’s not the case. Max … please …’ She moved across the sofa towards him, took his face in her hands and kissed him hard on the lips. After a startled instant he began to respond to her, putting his hand to her head and pressing her to him. The moment the kiss began, they were both possessed by fierce desire and the kiss quickly became wild. She unbuttoned his shirt, suddenly possessed by an overwhelming lust. She wanted to possess him now as much as possible. This might be her only opportunity. She straddled him, one thigh on either side of his, and pushed her groin towards him as his tongue probed her mouth and they panted together between deep kisses.

  ‘Max …’ she whispered as his hands followed the curve of her waist, down over her hips and round her buttocks.

  He moaned. ‘My God, you’re gorgeous you’re irresistible …’

  She had his shirt open and his hands were under hers, cupping her breasts, his thumbs rubbing her nipples, when suddenly he pulled away from her mouth and said, ‘No, Octavia, we can’t do this.’

  ‘What do you mean? Why not?’ She reached for his mouth with hers but he turned away.

  ‘I can’t do it. I can’t take advantage of you.’

  She looked down at their bodies. Max was lying underneath her, with her legs on either side of him, his shirt unbuttoned to the waist. ‘Does it look like you’re taking advantage of me?’ she asked.

  He looked down as well, and then laughed. She could sense his desire for her burning through him. ‘When you put it like that … I appear to be your prisoner.’

  ‘Max …’ She bent down and nuzzled his face. She kissed his jawline, gently licking the slightly stubbly skin, until she got to his ear. She pulled on his lobe with her lips for a moment and then whispered, ‘Max, I want you to make love to me … please.’

  His eyes filled with a passionate light. ‘How can I refuse an invitation like that?’ And he pulled her mouth back to his.

  They made slow, intense love by the fire. Max was strong and passionate, well practised but full of amazement at her, delighted by her body and able to show her new ways to enjoy it. But when, finally, he was moving inside her, it was so perfect that she understood that the feeling she’d had of coming home when she was with him was only a pale shadow of the right-ness she felt when they were joined together.

  When she came, Octavia realised she was crying and crying, and he kissed away her tears, stroked her hair and held her in his arms till she fell asleep.

  Octavia woke in her own bed, not remembering how she’d got there but not caring. The events of the previous night came back to her and she smiled happily, stretching and luxuriating in the feeling of the sheets on her naked body.

  ‘Max,’ she said, savouring his name in her mouth. ‘Mmmm-max.’

  What does this mean? Are we together? Surely we must be. He was so wonderful last night … That delicious hunger rippled through her body. She wanted him again. She couldn’t imagine not wanting him.

  She rolled on to her back and looked up at the ceiling. Yesterday had been truly momentous, even in light of the days that had gone before it. She had met her mother and heard her story. She had learnt the secret of Flora’s unhappiness. She’d realised that nothing was worth giving up just because you were afraid of what people might say. And then there’d been Max …

  It was time to leave Glachach, she knew that. They had done what they needed to here, and there was work to do at home. She had to get back and see how things were with her business. She was going to learn more about the world; begin to understand how to read people; to protect her money, and all the good it could do, from people who wanted it for their own selfish ends. She was going to prove to Max that she was worthy of his love.

  And now it’s time to face what Ethan’s done to me.

  87

  ‘Come on, Flora, come on!’

  She puffed behind him up the hill, her cheeks pink from the chill winter air and the exertion of the walk. ‘I’m coming!’ They were approaching the graceful eighteenth-century building that stood at the top, Nick a few steps ahead of her and well wrapped up in a dark overcoat and woolly hat.

  ‘What is this place? It’s beautiful.’ She stopped for a moment and turned to look back at the view. She could see down over parkland, over the museum and university buildings below, to the river. Beyond that was the city of London, grey and magnificent.

  Nick stopped, panting for breath. ‘This is the Royal Observatory. Do you know what’s special about this place?’

  ‘Of course.’ Flora started walking again, eager to get to the top of the hill. ‘We’re in Greenwich, aren’t we? This is where they keep the time.’

  Nick laughed. ‘Yeah, I like the way that sounds. Like it’s in a little box in there. But it’s true. Did you know that every day, every year and every millennium is measured as starting from here?’

  She shook her head, then put out her hand. ‘Come on, slow coach, I’ll help you.’

  He took it and let her pull him up a couple of steps, and when they were together he didn’t let go but said, ‘Come on,’ and they held hands all the way to the top. ‘There’s something else here too,’ Nick said. ‘The meridian line.’ They walked into the courtyard in front of the Observatory and he pointed to a shallow, metal-lined trench passing through the ground. People were wandering about, some inspecting the trench and standing on either side of it. Nick led her over to it.

  ‘This is longitude zero. Has been ever since Greenwich won the right to be the starting point of all navigation and time in 1884 – I studied it in high school. And if you stand with one foot on either side … come on …’ Flora obediently stood astride the line, and so did Nick ‘… then you’re simultaneously in the eastern and western hemispheres. This line cuts right around the earth and comes back to this exact spot.’

  ‘Wow!’ Flora laughed. ‘How amazing. But why did you bring me here?’

  He smiled, making his face look even more handsome. ‘Because I wanted to show you how powerful you are – you can stand on top of the world if you want to. And also because we might not be able to turn time back or slow it down, but we can, as the poet said, seize the day.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, laughing. ‘That sounds good.’

  ‘Flora.’ He grabbed her hands and came up close to her. He stared down into her eyes, smiling softly. Her stomach turned in a leisurely but most enjoyable somersault, and her pulse quickened. ‘I’ve got some news.’

  For a terrible moment her happiness dropped away and she feared the worst. Had Otto carried out his threat? Did the world know her secrets? I can’t bear it. But I’ll have to.

  ‘Oh, sweetheart …’ Nick’s dark eyes looked apologetic. ‘I’ve frightened you. I’m so sorry. It’s not bad news, I promise. I’ve had a communication from Germany.’

  She closed her eyes and swallowed hard, trying to quell the dread rising in her. ‘Yes?’

  ‘I think you’d better look for yourself.’ He took something from his pocket and pressed it into her hand. She looked down. It was a jiffy bag, already torn open, addressed to Nick in strong black writing. At least, the address was Nick’s. The name on the bag was Flora von Schwetten. Seei
ng it written down like that, in thick black pen, made her feel even more ill.

  ‘It arrived this morning. Look inside.’

  She peered in. There were a dozen or so silver CDs or perhaps DVDs, all marked in German with Otto’s handwriting, and several photographs. She had expected to see awful images of herself in that bedroom, the place where she found herself in her nightmares, trapped by the suffocating curtains around that hellish bed. But these photographs were not of a person. She fished one out and looked at it. It showed Otto’s study – and the place had been ransacked. More particularly, the computer on his desk had been smashed to smithereens, its innards spewed everywhere, clearly never to be reconstituted.

  Flora frowned, confused. ‘I don’t understand …’

  ‘This note was inside.’ Nick took a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it, holding it out so she could see what was scrawled across it:

  Flora, Machen Sie sich keine Sorgen. Otto wird Sie kein mehr Ärger machen.

  Marthe Gestenholtz

  Flora stared at it. ‘What does it say?’

  ‘Basically, don’t worry, Otto won’t be making any more trouble for you.’

  She looked up at Nick, realisation dawning. ‘Otto’s mother did this!’

  Nick nodded, a huge smile spreading over his face. ‘My guess is that she found out what his game was, and it was just a step too far for her. She obviously wanted to protect you.’

  ‘Oh, my goodness, this is fantastic!’ Flora’s face softened. ‘Marthe was kind to me, in her way. I think she grew fond of me.’

  ‘She obviously did.’

  ‘Does this mean …’ The implications started to sink in as Flora gazed at the pictures of Otto’s wrecked computer. She began to smile as well. ‘Does this mean that he hasn’t got any of that material left? He can’t publish it?’

  ‘Well, it’s hard to say. It might be that his hard drive is salvageable in some way. He might have put a disc into safe storage somewhere, or even used an internet file service to store a backup. But we’ve got about twelve identical discs here. I’d say these are probably his backup.’ Nick gestured to the jiffy bag. ‘Otto is a cautious guy. He’s clearly tried to protect his stash, but I’d guess that probably means he didn’t want to store anything anywhere else. I’d bet good money that this is the real deal.’

  Flora pressed one hand to her face, her eyes welling as she began to realise that she might be free from the threat of exposure. ‘Oh my God … Marthe … she did this for me.’

  ‘She did something else too.’ Nick took another piece of paper out of his pocket. ‘The icing on the cake. It’s a marriage certificate, proving the marriage of Otto and Wiebke Mullinsdorf.’

  ‘Why would she send that?’

  ‘My hunch is that he probably neglected to get himself a divorce or official annulment from Fraulein Mullinsdorf. Which would make your marriage illegal and thus he’d be in line for no divorce settlement at all, and probably more likely to be arrested for bigamy.’

  Flora giggled. ‘Oh, dear. All his careful plans! Everything … it’s all over for him, isn’t it?’

  ‘He’s certainly left without much of a hand to play. It’s going to be a pleasure re-opening negotiations with him. I think we’re going to find the balance of power has shifted.’ Nick looked at her, his eyes bright. ‘You did exactly the right thing, Flora, in calling his bluff. He must have confided his decision to expose you to his mother, and for her it was the final straw.’

  ‘We’ll never know exactly, I suppose, but … how can I thank her?’ Flora murmured softly. She looked up at Nick. ‘Can we make sure she’s looked after? I don’t think Otto was ever kind to her, he treated her like a servant. It would make me happy to know she was free of him at last.’

  Sure. I’m certain I can sort that out. Leave it to me.’

  She laughed again with happiness. ‘Thank you! I’m so happy!’ She flung her arms round Nick and kissed his cheek.

  He leaned back and looked into her eyes. ‘Hey now … I don’t know if this is the moment, but we never did talk about that night in Scotland.’

  Flora smiled. ‘I loved it,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Yeah, me too.’ A confused expression crossed his face. ‘But, you know, you’re kind of my boss … I work for you.’

  ‘So you’re not allowed to kiss me?’

  ‘Not really.’ He looked longingly down at her lips, obviously pulled in two directions on the matter.

  ‘If I’m your boss, doesn’t that mean you have to do as I say?’ Flora said, tilting her face up to his.

  ‘Within certain prescribed boundaries,’ he murmured. ‘Actually, what am I saying? I’m my own boss. You’re paying me but that’s different. I can stop working any time I want.’

  ‘How about you stop for now and start again later?’ suggested Flora. She slipped her hands inside his coat and wrapped her arms around his waist. It felt blissful and his flesh was tantalisingly close.

  ‘Hmm, interesting suggestion … yeah, that might work.’ Unable to resist her a moment longer, he bent his lips to hers and kissed her gently then less gently until they were lost in the pleasure of one another’s mouths. Flora became aware that people around were clapping and cheering as they saw the beautiful young couple locked in a romantic embrace.

  They broke slowly apart, both breathless and a little dazed, smiling at all the good cheer around them as tourists applauded.

  ‘Be happy!’ called one in a windcheater and backpack.

  ‘Shall we? Be happy?’ Nick asked, holding her tightly to him.

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered, full of joy. ‘Let’s.’

  He smiled down at her, and she hugged him tighter, never wanting to let him go.

  88

  Octavia came out of the meeting with her new financial advisors with her head spinning. They had explained the position to her in simple terms but it was still hard to grasp. All she knew was that Butterfly remained safe, as long as she was prepared to plug the financial gap left by Ethan’s fraud. BC Investments was a different matter, but there was nothing to be done about that until the extent of Ethan’s activities had been unravelled and his case brought to trial. At least, even though he’d stolen millions, she was still a very wealthy woman and able to keep the business going. She intended to make sure that any defrauded investors were recompensed. There were to be more meetings in the New Year with the accountants, to go through her entire financial situation.

  The yacht’s going, that’s for sure. What a waste of money! I’ll have to look over my entire portfolio, see how much of a stake I have in Ethan’s possessions. Whatever’s left over after creditors are paid, I’ll give to charity.

  As she walked, Octavia made a resolution. She would begin to learn about business and money management. It was true she had no qualifications, but she was educated up to a point and surely would find a way to learn whatever was necessary.

  She felt suddenly excited. I could go to university. Maybe to business school … The world seemed full of possibilities. But, best of all, she already had a business, and a blueprint from Iseult for how to rebuild it. Up until now she had relied on Ethan to help her, but he was in custody, in the process of applying for bail although his attempt to flee the country wasn’t going to help that particular cause. She couldn’t yet go it alone. And besides, there was still the problem of Noble’s staff and their resistance to the new regime.

  But Octavia had an idea for a solution to all that. She checked her watch. In fact, her solution ought to be waiting for her right around now.

  ‘Let me get this straight.’ Amanda Radcliffe, smart in a charcoal-coloured Dior suit and high black shoes, her dark hair neatly arranged, crossed her legs elegantly and looked over at Octavia as they sat in the elegant foyer of Claridge’s, a pot of tea on the small table between them. ‘You want me to come back to Noble’s as chief exec?’

  Octavia nodded.

  Amanda stared at her without speaking for almost a minute then threw
back her head and laughed heartily.

  ‘Is that funny?’ Octavia asked, a little confused.

  ‘Well, yes, it is a bit! Talk about mixed signals. I was under the impression your family wanted my family out of Noble’s – you certainly managed to pull the rug from under our feet pretty effectively.’

  ‘I know. And I have to apologise to you for that, Amanda. I was appalled when I heard about your father’s death and I’m horrified to think that the takeover might have caused it. I didn’t fully understand what was happening at the time.’ She looked the other woman straight in the eye. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  Amanda stared back at her sombrely. ‘It was a terrible time. I realise you weren’t personally responsible. And I guess I had my revenge, destroying Brody.’

  Octavia gave a small smile. ‘I ought to thank you for that, really.’

  ‘Is that why you want me on the board?’

  ‘It’s a mixture of things. I want to make amends – but I also happen to think you’re the very best person for this job. And I found out that you wanted to do new things, including stocking Roddy, but couldn’t.’

  ‘Yes.’ Amanda picked up her china cup, took a sip of tea and put it back. ‘You may have overreached yourself but I did the opposite. Gave in too much. Tried to be accepting and didn’t fight for my personal vision. The result was that it was all taken away. I don’t want that to happen again, which is why I’ve decided to start my own boutique, funded by my own money. I want to be my own boss.’

  ‘Oh.’ Octavia was crestfallen. She had become set on the idea of Amanda coming back on board. It had seemed the perfect solution. ‘But …’

  ‘It’s all going ahead, I’m afraid. I’m not prepared to pull out now.’ Amanda shook her head then smiled across at Octavia in a way that was almost friendly. ‘If you’d come to me a little earlier then maybe …’

  ‘I’ve brought something to show you,’ Octavia said, taking a calfskin folder out of her bag.

  ‘Oh?’ Amanda raised her eyebrows inquisitively.

  ‘Look at this.’ She passed it over.