by Flora Dain
It should – it cost a small fortune. I’d never spend so much left to myself. Thanks to Billy’s eagle eye and Darnley’s plastic the company profits must be down by some three thousand dollars on the day.
I should never have told her I had a corporate card.
When I emerge from the cocoon of my room a newly hatched fairy-tale princess, he’s already waiting by the door and still on his phone. As he sees me he abruptly ends the call and slips the phone into his pocket. For a couple of seconds he stands very still, his eyes narrow. ‘Turn around.’
Nervously I do so. Was this what he had in mind? My only evening gown is still in Boston – I’d not thought to bring it for a simple fly-drive visit. I wore it the night we met and I’ve worn it only once or twice since, but it’s the kind of dress I can rely on. I hate shopping off the cuff and in a hurry.
My gown’s too expensive and too daring to my New England way of thinking. The neckline plunges deep at the front and the slim bias-cut skirt is slit high up one thigh. Billy loved it. The assistants loved it. I’d have liked something more modest but I ran out of time.
Now I’m scared. He eyes me sternly. Is something wrong? Should I change?
‘Come here.’
He takes a small box out of his pocket and flips open the lid. ‘I thought you might like this.’
I gasp. It’s theWolfe Security logo, like the silver one embroidered on his bathrobe, like the one on locks and security cameras everywhere. But now the wolf’s head glowers at me ablaze with diamonds, the small handcuffs below it sparkling with brilliants.
‘It’s lovely,’ I manage, sincerely hoping these stones aren’t real. I’d never afford the insurance on a brooch like this. I lift it out of the box and turn to the mirror to fix it below one shoulder but he takes it out of my fingers and turns me round to face him. ‘I think down here, don’t you? It’ll have more effect.’
I stand very still as he fastens it carefully in the deep valley where the satin bunches between my breasts. His fingers graze my skin as he does it, sending tiny tremors through me. I feel a tell-tale glow across my bare bosom, starting at my throat and spreading in a soft pink wave all the way down. It passes in a flash but the gleam in his eyes warns me he’s seen it.
He runs his hands lightly over my skin, his fingertips lingering along the ridge of my collarbones. Slowly his hand slides around my throat and lingers. His caress becomes a living collar, a fleeting mark of ownership.
‘Thank you,’ I say, my heart in my mouth. In the mirror a sideways glance shows me he’s right, it looks perfect. It also adds a touch of raunchy glamour – the wolf’s head nestles prominently in the swell of my breasts while the gems catch the light and flash rainbows over the ceiling.
Their brilliance and their weight warn me they’re real. They scare me. Miss Normal went home days ago but if she were here now she’d have a fit. If I was at risk before I certainly am now with several thousand dollars’ worth of diamonds flashing in my cleavage. Can this man spring any more surprises on me?
Right on cue he does. He sweeps me with a stern downward glance and then smiles a long, lazy smile that sends a flare of heat through me. ‘Now you’re company property. For my exclusive use.’
He leans forward to kiss me gently and then touches his lips to the base of my throat and goes lower, his touch warm and disturbing. At the same moment he slips his hand into the slit of my gown where it parts high up on my outer thigh and strokes my leg. At his touch, so fond and familiar, I shudder as heat flares deep between my legs and arousal sets up a steady, nagging pulse. His hand stays on my thigh, his fingers moving gently below the slinky satin. They slide upwards, sensuous and disturbing and ease all the way up to my hip where my fancy new lingerie lurks below my sleek finery.
‘I think we’ll lose these.’
His casual command sends a lightning strike straight to my groin. I hold my breath, pinned in his gaze as he wrenches the taut lace trim of my panties. In seconds they’re reduced to a wisp of spent lace at my feet. As I step out of them and flick them away with my toe his mouth descends on mine, his kiss urgent and fierce.
After a second he pulls away, not smiling, strangely watchful. ‘Just testing. Now we’ll test something else.’
He holds me hard against him as his other hand finds the slit in my gown once more. This time it slides deliberately up between my thighs and lands on my throbbing, swelling sex. He spreads his fingers in another command and I obey instantly, helpless in the sudden electrical charge crackling between us. I moan aloud as he cups my splayed gap, his hand warm and disturbing, his fingers easing inside.
Raw lust flares through my belly in a shaft of gold. ‘What are you doing? Won’t we be late?’
His lips twist in a sardonic grin and a diamond-hard glint flashes from his perfect teeth. ‘It’s my party. It starts when I get there.’
Now his fingers take control, pressing me, probing me in a precise rhythm that soon makes me whimper. His touch is driving me crazy. As my excitement builds he eases off for moment and then starts again, his touch as soft as stroking fur. He’s making hardly any movement. His fingertips alone are enough, whipping me to a frenzy as my slick, hidden folds draw in his fingers, curling like petals.
At last I whimper deep in my throat as his thumb lands on my clit and circles in cruel, slow possession. His eyes blaze into mine, alight with triumph. To my shame and my infinite joy I know my climax is almost here.
He knows too. As I tremble in his arms, poised on the cusp of pleasure, his eyes narrow. ‘What’s the matter? Feeling skittish down there? Or are you worried about your gown?’
‘Why are you doing this?’ It’s hard to speak. I’m holding my breath, teetering on the edge as my orgasm builds, its pulse steady as a distant drumbeat deep in my belly. I feel my nipples rise and swell, forcing against the satin of my gown. ‘You like control this much?’
His grin fades and for a split second I see a flash of raw power. ‘Damn right I like it. And when I walk in a room I like the woman with me to look like she likes me to like it.’
With a soft, penetrating probe his thumb finally hits the spot and I convulse in his arms, clutching him as I cry out. I lean my forehead on his shoulder as the spasms overtake me, rippling through me in waves.
He waits patiently, his long mouth stretched into a grin against my forehead.
I can feel his breath on my hair, shaky with suppressed laughter. For long seconds we stand together as he holds me tight and mercifully makes no move to shatter my bliss.
At last I find the strength to speak, my voice hoarse. ‘Darnley, when are we going to … how can you hold off like this?’
‘What, you want to fuck?’
His lips touch my damp forehead, soft as a whisper.
‘Soon, my pet. Very soon. But this time we’re doing it on my terms, not yours.’
* * *
When we finally reach the ballroom I’m glowing, rosy with orgasm and dressed like a princess. Someone presses a flute of champagne into my hand but I hardly need any. All I need is standing right next to me, drawing the eyes of every woman in the room and quite a few of the men. Darnley is far headier than any wine.
I sail through introductions, find easy, carefree things to say to all manner of beautifully groomed and evidently important people without any hint of my usual shyness or embarrassment.
I can do this. I feel like a million dollars. And as I meet and greet and glow at his side I know deep down it’s not his money or my gown or the sudden fairy-tale I’m now a part of. It’s all to do with him.
Slowly the crowd edges us apart and when Darnley is a few feet away talking to someone else a waiter appears at my elbow.
‘Miss Dean? Someone is asking for you. If you’d come with me?’
Darnley’s deep in conversation so I turn away with a smile. I bet this is Billy come to check on my fairy credentials.
I follow the waiter out of the room to a quiet corner of the lobby and then I stand per
fectly still. The man waiting for me eyes me with a peevish sweep that warns me he’s less than pleased at how I look and he’d very much sooner be somewhere else.
Me too.
‘Ryan? Where on earth have you been?’
CHAPTER NINE
‘Looking pretty good there, Petronella. Poetry paying well, is it?’
Ryan’s cynical grin fails to reach his eyes. He looks wary.
I used to like his quirky sense of humour. Now I see it for what it is – petty sarcasm. He slips instantly into his old habits, using my full name to irritate me. As ever he succeeds.
Automatically I summon my patience, and resolve not to let him get to me.
As ever I fail. He gets to me instantly.
‘Ryan, hi. Nice to see you, too. I gather you’ve been busy.’ I say ‘busy’ when what I really mean is ‘being a criminal’ but I decide not to rile him too soon.
Now I’ve put a safe distance between us I take in his thin blond hair, falling past his ears in a girlish wave, a turn-on for many women – if they fail to notice the small sharp eyes and the weak, over-eager lips. The low lighting in the lobby sprinkles highlights in his neatly trimmed blond beard. Its soft gleam used to appeal before I found out just how many other women it appealed to and just how often he cashed in on the fact.
‘Listen, El, I’m glad you could make it. We have to talk. I’m in a spot of trouble.’
I steel myself. ‘If it’s money you want you can forget it. I’ve wasted more than enough of my salary on you. Anyway, I thought you were doing pretty well now. What’s the problem?’
He frowns, glancing around us as he leans forward and lowers his voice. ‘That’s just it. Things aren’t all they seem. I do need money and urgently, and a lot more than teaching money. But that’s not your problem, El. I just need you to sign some papers for me.’
‘Would that be something related to patents, by any chance?’ I say sweetly.
His face contorts. ‘Fuck. Where did you hear that?’ He looks rattled.
I shake my head sadly. ‘Darnley told me last night. What have you got yourself into here, Ryan?’
‘Darnley? What, not Darnley Wolfe? For crissake, El, what’s this about? You’re not with him now, are you?’ Slowly his eyes take in my sleek gown, my still, meaningful look, and linger with new alarm on the diamond logo flashing at my breasts.
‘Fuck. You didn’t waste much time, did you? How the hell long’s this been going on?’
I’m about to tell him nothing’s going on, that we’re together for the simple reason that he wants to see Ryan too, plus whom I see is none of his damn business, when I sense something’s wrong.
Ryan looks scared. His forehead shines with sweat. I see him swallow.
I frown, puzzled. ‘Why? What’s the matter?’
Like I’ve pressed a switch he jerks to attention. His voice comes out hoarse and fast, so low I strain to catch his words. He grabs my arm to press his point home, his expression genuinely troubled. ‘Look, El, stay away from him, you hear? He’s dangerous. I’m close – real close – to somebody who knows him well. They’re terrified of him. Even his family’s scared of him. He –’
He breaks off to stare at something past my shoulder. ‘Shit. Gotta go.’
I look up at him in alarm. He’s gone white.
He fixes me with wild eyes and hisses under his breath, ‘Meet me tomorrow at the Forkways Motel. It’s about ten miles north of town. Come alone and don’t tell anybody, especially him. Get there by around noon, we’ll do lunch. I’ll be there all day.’ Seconds later he’s slipped away.
Just then Darnley strides over. ‘Here you are. I wondered where you’d got to.’ He frowns. ‘Anything wrong?’
I doubt Darnley would like me talking to Ryan, and Ryan’s asked me to keep quiet about our meeting, so I do. ‘No.’ I lie to Darnley for the very first time and feel instantly guilty. Now he’s right. I’m hiding something. ‘I’m fine. It was a little hot in there, that’s all. Have you had enough? I might skip the rest, if you don’t mind.’
His expression hardens. ‘I do mind. And no, I’m not finished yet. Come back in. There are people I want you to meet.’
The Cinderella glow I came in with has long gone. Now I’m jumpy as a cat, half-expecting Ryan to show again. Fear makes me hyper-alert. I feel imaginary eyes watching me from shadows, windows and doorways. As we finish our tour of the room I’m keenly aware of curious looks, whispers behind our backs.
At last the wife of a senior manager murmurs the question all their eyes are asking. ‘Forgive me mentioning it –’ her sharp eyes twinkle ‘– we call him the lone Wolfe because he so rarely brings a companion to these events. Have you been together long?’
I shake my head with a polite smile and play dumb. What can I say? That we’re not together and it’s a business arrangement? I’ll sound like an escort. That we went at it like rabbits the night we met and now we’re catching up? Or worse, we’re on the trail of my ex, now a criminal?
I smile, serenely non-committal and move on. The trail of excited whispers behind me could never in a million years top the truth.
Here, among his own kind, Darnley seems even more powerful and disturbing. As we pass a group of engineers I hear the terms ‘thermal imaging’ and ‘security devices’ and I gather they’re from Ryan’s old section. Skilfully Darnley greets them and mentions Ryan.
One of the men snorts. ‘Mitchell? That asshole? Cost us a whole year’s work.’
I murmur a vague enquiry and Darnley looks on as the men give vent.
‘We worked damned hard on that project. You try working your butt off for half a year and then have your team leader walk off with it just before the launch.’
‘Just let me get my hands on him.’
At last Darnley steers me away. ‘I just wanted you to meet some of the people your boyfriend double-crossed. He’s no pin-up here. We’ll leave now. We need to talk.’
In the elevator I avoid his eye, bitterly aware of the first elevator trip we took together. How simple and clear things seemed then. As we reach his floor I feel his eyes on me and wonder if he thinks the same.
He slams the door of the suite and loosens his tie. ‘Drink?’ He passes me a mineral water and pours himself a scotch. ‘Enjoy yourself?’
Something about his tone catches my attention. Shouldn’t he be smiling?
‘Yes, I …’ I tail off as he raises his eyes to my face, his expression hard.
Something’s wrong.
‘Meet anyone interesting?’ His tone is low, his eyes cold.
I tread carefully. ‘I … talked to some wives. I thought the technicians were nice. I can see why they’re bitter. But surely if they’ve bypassed the process you say my paperwork covers, does it matter that Ryan’s got it?’
‘Their work went to waste. They had to start over. Mitchell’s unit was quicker and simpler. He not only took the secret of exactly how it worked but he took one of our finest technicians with him. She’s set up a rival company. But the process she’s using was developed with my staff and my money.’
I swallow. ‘Can’t I just give it back?’
He rolls his eyes. ‘That’s called passing the buck. And sadly it’s not that simple. There’s also the small matter of commercial fraud which you might or might not be involved in.’ He draws close and takes the water out of my hand.
His voice is low – too low.
I feel vaguely uneasy. ‘But I’m just a teacher. I know nothing about business. And I’m unused to double-dealing.’
His eyes flash. ‘I’m glad to hear it. So maybe you’d like to tell me what Mitchell wanted in the lobby just now.’
* * *
There’s something weird about anger – Darnley’s anyway. Or maybe it’s something weird about Darnley. As I stare up at him, framing my answer – I must choose my words carefully here – I realise that we’re talking about a lot more than patents and a dodgy employee. Something in his look tells me his rage is perso
nal.
I lick my lips and stick to basics. ‘He wants to meet me tomorrow. He’s scared of you. He said to come alone.’
‘Where are you meeting him?’
I shake my head. ‘I promised not to tell you. And don’t try to follow me or we’ll never get to the bottom of this. When I’ve seen him we’ll clear this up and then …’
I tail off as he pulls me into his arms. ‘And then what, Ella? You think it’s that simple? You think he’ll just let you walk away with five million dollars of my money, after all this trouble? He’s that generous, is he?’
‘I just want to talk to him. I still haven’t heard –’
‘His side of the story. Yes, you said.’ He winds my arms around my back and pulls them down, forcing me backwards. He captures my wrists in a grip like steel and curves over me, his eyes full of heat. ‘Are you meeting him tonight?’
‘What?’ I feel a rush of alarm. ‘No. And you’re hurting me. Let me go.’
He releases me abruptly and catches my arm as I stagger back a little. His face contracts with a flicker of pain. ‘You still have feelings for him.’
‘Why’s it so important?’
‘What kind of answer is that?’ His eyes are blazing now. ‘It’s not important to you? Be honest with me, dammit.’
I take a deep breath. ‘And you? Are you being honest with me? You’re hiding something, I know it.’
It’s like I’ve started a fire. All at once his mouth captures mine and his hands are everywhere, tugging at my gown, spreading my thighs wide apart, and we’re collapsing onto the bed, our argument forgotten.
Or maybe this is the argument. He pulls away from my mouth, his look still burning me up. My throbbing places, shamefully naked all evening under my clinging, high-split gown, now almost quiver at his touch. He reaches into the slit in my skirt, his touch on my upper thigh firm and purposeful, his questing hand as disturbing as electricity.
Swiftly he shrugs off his jacket, unfastens his flies and frees himself and now he’s jutting into me, his erection stiff and almost painful, pressing deliberately against me in the places that matter most.