Dark Nights

by Kitti Bernetti

  ‘It’s about Richard, and Mr Vanhoffer. You may not believe me. I hardly even know where to begin.’ She found she was stuttering; he looked so devastatingly handsome. Now she had relinquished the protection of hating him she was drawn to him like a magnet.

  ‘Then begin at the start, it’s always easiest.’

  She poured out to him what she knew, how she knew it. She could see in the tight lines of his sensual mouth that one question lay unanswered – why she had taken so long to tell him? She only hoped to God it wasn’t too late.

  He steepled his fingers, a signet ring, one he had said had been given to him by his father, the father who never valued his work but whom he still honoured, shone on his finger. ‘I admire you in coming here today, Breeze. I wondered how long it would be before you told me. You see, I already knew.’

  Breeze felt the floor whoosh from under her, like she was in a fast moving lift. ‘You knew?’

  He smiled, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. ‘Yes, I knew. It turns out that even I have a heart and on reflection I felt sorry for Mr Vanhoffer. Even though I took over everything he owned, I respected him as a smart man of business. So I made him an offer. An extremely generous offer to come and work for me, helping behind the scenes to pull ailing companies out of the mire. But I didn’t tell anyone else I’d taken him on. He informed me a while ago that Richard had approached him. And I told him to string Richard on. I needed to know what he was up to. It confirmed some things about Richard’s lack of loyalty I had already heard on the grapevine but couldn’t prove. Richard will be getting his marching orders today. He’s got a wife and a young family. I shan’t be taking it any further for his sake. I simply hope he’s learnt his lesson.’

  ‘You’re very generous.’

  ‘For a bastard you mean. Isn’t that how you’ve seen me?’

  ‘I ... well, maybe. At times.’

  ‘I understand how money drives people to do bad things. Integrity’s a difficult talent to achieve in this business but I do my best.’

  He did, he so did. In that moment, she wanted to have him take her in his arms, to hold her like he’d done so many times before. But now, he didn’t move towards her. A dark lack of liveliness dulled his eyes. Had she failed him so comprehensively? Like so many other people had done? She wished she’d come earlier. Wished she hadn’t thought so badly of him that she’d waited.

  ‘And now, I’m sorry, Breeze, I have many papers I have to wrap up, things I have to complete before–’ He stopped mid sentence as if catching himself out. For one moment, she thought he was going to reach out and stroke her like he had so many times before. Electricity crackled between them. Then died, as if he’d flicked a switch. His voice was flat. ‘We’re still on for Saturday? Your last obligation to please me.’ Still there was the heat of desire, but also a holding back which she didn’t understand.

  ‘So, it will be the last then?’ She felt it difficult to swallow. The last. He was going to let her go. The very real thought that she might never enjoy his caresses again made her world implode; she desperately wanted to reach out and feel those muscles tense under her fingers again, see those eyes flicker as she took him in her hands. But his stiff stance signalled that this was not the appointed time and place. His steely control won over the sparks of desire that lit his eyes. She bit her lip.

  ‘Yes, don’t look so serious. I will be releasing you from our business deal. And there will be no police, no jail, you’ve paid your price.’

  Somehow, now it didn’t feel like a price paid. She’d been spared but she also felt bereft. As the door closed, and the lift carried her down, there were a million things she’d left unsaid. And there was also the necklace in her pocket which she’d planned to give back. Somehow she couldn’t bear to let it go. At least they had Saturday.

  Chapter Ten

  BREEZE HAD PLANNED THE last Saturday to be at the House of Lords. He’d like the irreverence of fornicating in a place which prided itself on its formality – in his own way he was as much of a rebel as she was. She had phoned to tell him the place and time but unusually had got his answerphone. She had left a message and now, here she was standing in the street at the entrance of the Houses of Parliament which lead to the Cholmondeley Room. And he was late. Seb had never been late before.

  She waited and waited, paced up and down, wore a groove in the pavement, watched the afternoon turn to evening. No way would Seb willingly have stood her up. He was a man who kept his word, something must be wrong.

  In desperation she took a taxi to headquarters and almost ran up to his office. It was deserted. Maybe, she clung on to a small ray of hope, the security man, Ronald would know something. He knew everything and everybody.

  By the time she reached him, she was panting. ‘Hey, Miss Monaghan, don’t you look a pretty picture. And your hair, you’ve coloured it down. If you don’t mind my saying it matches your eyes perfectly. I always did think you was pretty striking as a blonde but brunette’s much more the real you. You must be going somewhere mighty fine lookin’ so good.’

  ‘I was,’ she had thought up various stories about why she needed to know where Seb lived then realised she did that out of habit. Why did she always have something to hide? It was time to be honest. ‘I was actually meeting Mr Dark. He and I have been seeing each other for some weeks now.’

  ‘Oh, Miss Monaghan I’m so pleased. You two would make a lovely couple and that man needs a good woman.’

  ‘The thing is, Ronald, he never turned up like we agreed. I … I’m worried about him, I can’t get him on the phone either.’

  The security guard’s brow furrowed, his face full of concern. It was typical of Seb that he should inspire such concern. ‘Have you been to his apartment?’

  ‘We never went there; we’ve always gone out to places. Look, Ron, I know it’s breaching confidentiality but I’m really worried about him. Do you know where he lives? Could you give me the address?’

  ‘I know you work as hard for Mr Dark as anyone. I’ve seen you in here enough, burning the night oil. Of course I know where he lives. His chauffeur and I are like that.’ He crossed his fingers into a knot. ‘Here, this is where you need to go.’

  Heart pounding, a sick puddle in her stomach at what might be wrong, Breeze thought of the headaches from which Seb suffered. She’d suspected it was just stress, but perhaps he was more ill than he let people know. Please God it wasn’t something really serious. Breeze jumped in a taxi. The address was in St Katharine’s Dock, nestling next to the Thames within sight of the Tower of London. It was a bustling marina full of bars, and restaurants and some very lucky people had chosen to live there on boats at the exclusive moorings. As she approached, there was a frisson of drama. An ambulance, lights flashing. Suddenly she saw Seb at the centre of it, shaking hands with a paramedic, slapping another on the back. They talked earnestly to him before wishing him well and departing. Breeze ran, until she thought her chest would burst with the effort, and crashed onto the scene just as Seb waved goodbye to the paramedics. She ran to be face to face with him, her carefully curled hair now wild about her cheeks, her white lace cocktail dress contrasting with the fire opals at her neck. As she gasped for breath she didn’t even care that she looked a state.

  ‘Where have you been?’ she shrilled, ‘I’ve been terrified, I thought all sorts of things had happened to you. Why didn’t you phone?’

  He gave her that steely stare she was so used to. His eyes bored into her, black as the night. Oh my God, she had so misjudged this situation. She put her hand to her mouth, suddenly feeling sick. She had panicked, run wildly to him as if they were lovers and now she would be spurned. Cast off. How could she have overreacted so when she meant so little to him? Her heart leapt to her mouth, her face lost its animation and she made to turn away. He was just her boss. Nothing more. Even their arrangement for no strings sex was over. All was dust and despair. She wished the ground would open and swallow her whole. It wasn’t her place to care about h
im. She meant nothing to him.

  As she turned her back and real tears pricked the back of her eyes she felt a hand on her shoulder. ‘Breeze, come back. I’m sorry I worried you, really I am.’

  As she turned, a new light softened his features. Was he sorry for her – heavens she didn’t want his sympathy, didn’t want him to know that she had fallen for him, that deep in her heart she needed him, desired him, missed him, thought of him every minute of every day. When surely to him, she was just a quick screw on a Saturday night.

  ‘You did worry me.’ She fought hard to hold back the tsunami of emotion that threatened to engulf her. There, she had shown him she cared. ‘What on earth has happened? What was the ambulance doing here? Why didn’t you tell me something was up? I waited hours for you.’ She bit her lip and quietened down, people were watching. A lover’s tiff they shrugged and smiled as they went by.

  ‘Are you trying to tell me you actually care for me?’ His words were soft, as if he almost dare not say them.

  She sniffed. She would NOT cry. ‘Oh, you fool, Sebastian, of course I do. More than that I was terrified, I thought maybe you’d been in an accident or something. You’re normally so damned reliable with every wretched thing you do, you were meant to be with me.’

  As soon as she said it, she didn’t know what had hit her. Instead of walking away, instead of rejecting her and leaving her his arms came about her like the protective wings of an eagle, warm and strong, holding her hard, so hard the breath was squeezed out of her. Towering above Breeze, Seb looked down and lifted her chin. ‘Could you not, just for once, Breeze, accept that maybe I feel the same way about you? That for ages I’ve been fascinated by you. Maybe it’s just time we started trusting each other. Maybe it’s about time we said what we really think because I ... adore ...’ His gaze searched her face, those gorgeous eyes silver and grey, pierced her heart. She held her breath and the whole world condensed into the tiny spot of land where they stood, the earth had stopped, her heart waited to beat, ‘… you. I adore you.’

  She couldn’t believe those words, but as his lips met hers, as he sought her out, sank into her, supported her on legs which had lost the power to stand, wrapped her in his warmth she knew she had to believe. She had to trust and be trusted, as she closed her eyes and felt him take her to heaven. Their kiss seemed to last a lifetime. When he released her she felt she had dreamed it. But no, this was Seb, and he was taking her by the hand. ‘Come on to my boat and I’ll explain everything.’

  He took off his jacket and draped it over his shoulder. He looked totally gorgeous now, slightly ravaged and unkempt. He sat her down inside the luxury motor cruiser, took a seat beside her and put his hand to his forehead. Every move made her heart lurch. This incredible man was in love with her, the world had shifted on its axis. ‘That ambulance came here in the early hours of the morning. I’ve been having trouble with headaches, really severe ones. I’ve been for tests and they’d told me there was nothing they could do. That the tumour threatened to be terminal. I did everything I could, ate a special diet, gave up smoking tried all sorts of quack remedies. You do when you’re desperate like that. Then I gave in, lost all my drive, tried to tell myself I was bored with life.’ She squeezed his hand, she wasn’t hearing this. ‘That was ages ago before you and I … That was why you’ve been so important to me Breeze. I’d grown disillusioned with life itself. Even before I became ill, it had sort of left me behind. I’d achieved everything I set out to but when I became ill it made me realise with all my wealth in reality I had nothing of value. No one would have given a damn when I went, if I’d gone. Then, you came along. And changed everything.’

  ‘But what about ...’ She couldn’t say the word tumour, it sounded so ugly.

  ‘I had pains this morning so bad, as bad as they’ve ever been. Some weeks ago they’d given me a new drug to try out, something that’s only trialling, something that’s not even on the market yet. When the pains came …’ He touched the back of his head in that old familiar place. ‘… It scared the hell out of me. I thought that was it. But then, when they got me to the hospital and under the scanner. Well, they said the tumour is shrinking. Something’s happened, Breeze. It’s got smaller. It’s going. I don’t know whether it’s the new drug or maybe something else in my life,’ there was a subtle change in the air, a lightness as he regarded her. He couldn’t possibly mean that she had had something to do with this. ‘I finally have something to fight for. All I know is it’s got to be the best birthday present I’ve ever had.’

  Breeze listened as if she was sitting in the middle of a tornado, or riding on a rollercoaster. ‘Oh no, I never wished you happy birthday.’ She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. And I bought you a present and I left it, I don’t know where, I’ve been rushing around like a mad thing. You know something?’ She smiled. ‘It doesn’t matter what’s making you better. All that matters is, you’re here and you’re going to be here a lot longer.’

  ‘No,’ he said, holding her face in his hands. ‘What matters is that you’re still with me.’

  With that, he took her hand and led her into the bedroom. It was as if he was preparing her for a slow, erotic Argentine tango. She held her breath as he reached behind her and slid the zip down her back. Fingers fluttering over the surface of her skin, over her shoulder blades – she was alive, dazzling under his touch. He combed his hands through her hair and breathed in the scent of fresh shampoo and French perfume. She gasped as he traced her lips with the pad of his thumb. Slowly, slowly he moved. He was the master of this delicate dance.

  His high cheekbones shadowed in the half-light. Suddenly Breeze had no more fear or reservations. She was no longer playing a part. She was his. She desperately tore the shirt from him and flung it to the floor. He was dense-packed muscle, whipcord strength. His hands grasped the delicate lace of her dress and shimmied her trembling body free of it. Her white underwear was virginal, pure, the lacy bra revealing darkly shadowed areolas. His hand came to caress her heavy mounds. His touch sent sparks of heat through her aching body. This was what she wanted – to be possessed completely. But first to possess him. Stilling his hands, she sank to her knees before him, undid the button on his trousers, whiplashed the belt from his waist and tossed it on the bed. She took him in her hands; he was all solid strength and length. He looked down at her from a height and cupped her head in his hands, directing her onto the spear of hardness between his legs. As she wrapped her lips around the tip of his cock, she delighted in the musky saltiness, the ultimate maleness of him. Placing one hand at the base and massaging his balls, she used the other to tease him into her mouth.

  He sighed as he gripped her hair, moaned as she flicked her tongue up and over the sensitive ridges of his cock, groaned as she used her swift hand, her mouth, her whole being to bring him pleasure immeasurable. Her head bobbed up and down, the rhythm driving him mad. She wanted to give him so much, to give him everything. She saw the hills and valleys of muscle in his thighs tense, heard his breath pant hard, felt him grip her hair in his hands and then, gloriously, he spilt his load. She drank him in, enjoying the sensation of his being totally in her thrall. Of him losing himself to her.

  He lifted her up, poured her a glass of wine and watched with hungry eyes as she lay on the bed drinking it. She was already tipsy at the sight of him, the smell of him, the taste of him. Gentle waves lapped the side of the boat. A light breeze caused the masts of neighbouring yachts to whistle in the night air. The sounds of the city rushing by outside meant nothing to them in their cocoon. Here they were alone. Seb lay her back and started massaging her feet, his gentle caress sending little shivers through her legs. When he kissed the hollow at the back of her knees, her senses shot into overdrive. When he lay alongside her, he was so beautiful she could hardly believe he was all hers. Like a Greek God, like a Roman Statue come alive she couldn’t keep from staring at him. Breeze’s fingers caressed his firm round buttocks, delighting in the roughness of his skin, so
different to hers. He was already hard for her again, ready to drive her wild. He took the bottle of wine. ‘You look absolutely stunning in white lace, but …’ a wicked glow burnt in his eyes, ‘I need you naked for what I’m about to do next.’ He unflipped the catch of her bra, slid her panties off then stood to grab the bottle of wine again. She gasped. In the confines of the boat he looked even more enormous, even more potent. He knelt beside her and trickled a trail of wine over her stomach then bent and licked it out of her navel. The sensation uncurled a secret place in her belly, a snaking anticipation building. She knew what was next. Her nipples cried out for attention and when he sprinkled the sharp sweet wine over them, he caught it with his tongue, lapped all around her sensitised breasts. She wanted him more; she wanted to drive him crazy.

  Like a harlot, she clutched her breasts and offered them to him. When he moistened them with more of the nectar-like liquid she pulled him up to kneel before her and thrust his cock between her mountainous breasts. Driven mad, he pumped the channel of her breasts while she squeezed them hard, watching his cock burgeoning between them. He was so massive now, she was finally ready for him and she didn’t want him coming too soon. She thrust him down between her legs, opened them wide, raised herself up to receive him and felt him plunge inside her. Filling her massively, never had he felt so huge. The odour of wine and sweet perspiration scented their coupling. Breeze clasped his buttocks driving him into her, she felt the thick glory of his cock riding her clit, so smoothly. She gripped him tightly never wanting it to end, feeling the orgasm start small in the pit of her core, expanding with each rise and fall. ‘More, more, harder,’ she cried. He was like a high speed train, like a space rocket, like a stallion serving a mare. He drove into her, faster and faster, harder and harder until she cried out with the ultimate explosion of a massive orgasm as she felt inside her, Seb’s magnificent cock firing off as his erection came to thundering fruition. They rode the wave together, like surfers in the ocean, perfectly in time, perfectly in harmony, perfectly exhausted, perfectly spent. Perfectly at one.