touch. As he pulls away I see the glossy wetness flash and fade in a shadowy haze, and consider what
it would be like to never again feel that mouth against mine. Without thinking, I slip my left arm
inside his jacket and pull him into me, unwilling to even contemplate that terrifying thought.
Jake throws me an all knowing smile. “Hi Beth. I see he got you here.”
“He did. By foul means, I might add.”
He throws back his head and laughs loudly, causing a group of young professional women to turn
and stare. “That’s what I like to hear.”
When our booth becomes available we hurriedly make our way over. Charlie and I scoot into the
back of the semi-circular seat and our two escorts perch themselves on the ends, clearly desperate to
talk about something other than cocktails and wedding dresses.
As ever, Charlie brings her own little weather front; she can turn a storm in a tea cup into a full
blown tornado in less time than it would take most people to boil an egg. Such is her love of life’s
little dramas.
Ayden rests his chin on his right palm and feigns interest for as long as he is able. I catch him
checking his watch and wonder how I can draw this unforgettable night to a grand finale, thus ending
his suffering.
I reach out and take hold of his hand from beneath the table, intertwining our fingers. No amount of
fondling or idle banter will rid me of this ominous feeling that something unpleasant is about to
happen. It’s like emotional toothache.
Having consumed two bottles of Louis Roederer Crystal, three quarters of our party are
effervescent. Clearly the bubbles have gone to their heads. I marvel at Ayden’s transformation. When
has he been this relaxed and playful? Never. He has loosened his tie and he and Jake have regressed so
far back, they resemble pubescent boys on a stag night. If I take one thing from this evening, it will be
the memory of Ayden right now. Where is that Minstrel man with his hard shell and soft interior; the
one who was so unapproachable and unlovable? He’s not here.
I throw back the remaining mouthful of champagne and edge over to him. “I thought we came here
to dance.”
In an overly animated gesture he stands, outstretching his hand to me in an exaggerated bow. “My
darling wife-to-be wants to dance.” He kisses my hand. “And dance she shall.”
In a matter of minutes we are ascending one floor up and preparing to step from the elevator into
Tao Nightclub. When the doors open a wall of sound hits us like a tidal wave; the bass sounds settle in
my stomach like hard rocks and keep me weighted to the ground for several seconds.
We step into the crowded area and I hold onto Ayden’s hand tighter than necessary, for fear of
becoming lost in the throng of beautiful people. The bar is our first port of call, although we surely
don’t need more champagne.
While Ayden and Jake go in search of a table, Charlie and I acquire a couple or bar stools. They
give us some kind of reprieve from the horde of male admirers who seem to have amassed around us.
“I’m going to powder my nose,” Charlie yells above the sound of booming house music.
I’m about to say, “… Can’t you wait until they get back?” But she’s gone in a flurry of red hair and
high heels. I’m left alone for the second time tonight at a bar, only this time surrounded by several
hundred carved wooden monks. At least they won’t be expecting sparkling conversation.
When I turn on my stool, I can do no more than feast my eyes upon oversized Buddhas and red
velvet furniture. Accents of Asia are everywhere. I’m gawping at fish tanks and acrobats swinging on
wires, losing any sense of time and place as I am swept away by the thunderous beat of the music. I’ve
not seen anything like it.
“Beth!” Charlie calls. “Come with me.” There’s an urgency in her voice that causes me to lurch
forward on my stool.
“What’s happened, Char?”
“Just come with me. You’ve got to see this!”
She snatches at my hand and forcibly drags me through the crowd towards the dance floor. All I can
do is offer apologetic smiles as I catch elbows on route.
To my utter astonishment, I see a circle of people. In the centre of that circle are two handsome
men, dancing; one of which is Ayden Stone.
“What did I tell you … can you believe it?” shouts Charlie above the cheering and the clapping
which is building as the circle increases, becoming deeper by the second.
Of all the incredible experiences I have had today, and there have been many, this is by far the most
enjoyable. I have travelled across the world, taken a helicopter ride, dined at The Top of The World
and yet, the biggest wonder of them all is a mere six feet away from me, dancing to Locked Out of
Heaven by Bruno Mars.
These two grown men are trying to out-dance each other and doing a mighty fine job of it.
A brash, blonde woman sidles up beside me squeezing through the smallest of spaces like a chick
ruffling its feather. “It’s show time.”
That singular thought makes me smile.
“So who’s the cute guy with the Armani suit?” she asks, tipping up her chin in Ayden’s direction.
“My future husband,” I reply casually, keeping an inner smile tucked safely away.
“Yeah, right,” she snarls, looking me up and down contemptuously. “You wish.”
Her words ring true and right here, right now, it hits me. This is not a dream. This is the beginning
of a new chapter in my life. Like flicking the page in a book I turn to face her, lean in and say
unfalteringly, “Yes, you’re right. I did.”
The second verse begins and I tuck my clutch under my arm and join in with the clapping. Ayden‘s
pulling his tie from his collar and spinning around, scanning the crowd for … for me.
I take a step back but there’s nowhere to go. I’m ringside with no means of escape and this sexy
God of a man in a black Armani suit is about to wrap his tie around my neck.
Fuck!
Charlie is relieving me of my clutch, leaving me no alternative other than to step forward to dance
with this fiend with sparkling eyes and a coming-to-get-you smile. How can I refuse? Feeling his
hands around my waist I dip and sway to the music, until he slips behind me and begins to gyrate,
pulling me against him until we are glued together.
With the song ending, the applause ripples around us on all sides and Ayden spins me round so we
are face to face, eye to eye, lost in the gravity of the moment. “Tell me what you see,” he urges.
“I see the man I adore with a heart full of love and eyes full of desire,” I state passionately,
swathing his handsome face in my over-heated palms.
An approving smile forms. “Then you see right through me Beth.” Oblivious of our witnesses, he
cups my face and, with total conviction, whispers, “I love you more than life itself.” His kiss is deep
and long-lasting. Different. The kind of kiss a soldier gives as a parting gift when leaving for the front
line, knowing he is facing certain death.
As onlookers disperse, they become no more than a soundless blur; faceless Friday night revellers
never to be seen again. To them our kiss is of little significance but, for me, it’s unforgettable for all
the wrong reasons.
17
At 1 a.m. we tumble into our suite, a ram
shackle quartet high on champagne and life. I make coffee
and we sip it on the terrace, allowing the cool night air to mingle with the steaming brew. Ayden is
overly attentive which does little to reassure me, especially in the aftermath of his dance floor
declaration of eternal love. Every minute seems more precious than the last, for reasons best left to
my overzealous imagination.
Hand in hand, Charlie and I prepare to say our farewell. She knows I have Celine and a fleet of
specialists to prep me tomorrow and will see me at the Vegas style chapel on The Strip. She thinks my
impetuous choice of a movie star marriage is hysterically funny and so do I. The whole thing is crazy!
But, it’s what I want and now she’s here, why the hell not.
When we are alone, Ayden and I return to the terrace and stretch out on the sofa bed. I lie between
his legs and rest my sleepy head on his chest, wrapped up in his arms and a blanket. There are no stars
out tonight or, if there are, there’s way too much earthly light to single them out. I feel the weight of
his chin on my head and anticipate soft words, poetry perhaps … But there is only silence and the
gentle whisper from the occasional gust of Nevada air.
I could fall asleep in his arms; I am at peace here.
“Can I tell you something Beth, before I go?”
Go where?
“Where are you going?” I ask, keeping the timbre of my voice under tight control.
“I’m going to another suite, just for tonight. I want you to rest and be your beautiful self
tomorrow.”
Why do his words sound unlike his own?
“You don’t have to do that Ayden. I think tradition went out of the window the minute we set foot
off the plane.” I manufacture a playful smile, even though I know he can’t see it.
“It did,” he mutters. “But I have things to see to and I don’t want to wake you … Celine will be here
around 8 a.m. I’m certain you and she will have lots to do before we leave at midday.”
“We will. I want to look my best for you.”
He inhales my hair. “You personify beauty Beth. You’re always beautiful in my eyes.”
“People will say we’re in love if you keep saying things like that.” I snigger, making light of a bad
situation. “Or you’re infatuated with me.”
He stills. “Do you think what we have is infatuation, Miss Parker?”
I play along. “Sort of. You’re always in my thoughts …”
“And you in mine.”
“Well … it’s infatuation then but not in an adolescent kind of way.”
His chest rumbles beneath me. “No? This I’ve got to hear.”
“Infatuation is more like a crush and I don’t have a crush on you.”
“You don’t?”
“No. You said I was the prize, remember?
“You are.”
I roll around so I am stretched out, covering his body with mine. “You’re my prize too; my Mr. P in
every sense … my perfect prize. Although, I hate to break the news to you at a time like this but …” I
crawl up his body until my mouth is against his left ear. “I won Ayden.”
I feel the shape of a smile on my neck, a single second before he lifts my chin until we are eye to
eye. “We both won Beth. And tomorrow, in front of God Almighty, I will pledge my allegiance and
my love to you.”
“Like Prince Charming?”
He sniggers at the thought. “If you say so.”
“Minus the white charger.”
With thoughtful strokes he stills my hair, catching fine tendrils caught in the air. “Oh, I don’t know.
I may be able to arrange that.”
“I’m past being surprised by anything you do.” I take a breath and settle down onto his firm chest,
at peace with myself and with us. “I thank my lucky stars for you Ayden.”
His lips linger on my hair for a second longer than needed. “Me too Beth, but I have to go. You
have to trust me.”
This is one of those conversations when my words will go unheard. I play along. “I suppose you’re
right. You’d only get in the way and it’s unlucky to see a bride on her wedding day.” I turn to face him
and see unease; the lines across his forehead are a little deeper than usual and those Catherine wheel
specks of fire that usually dance in his eyes are sitting this one out. What is it I see? Is it regret?
Resting my hand on his heart I prepare to put his mind at rest. “We don’t have to do this, you know.
You don’t have to prove anything to me. “
“Yes, we do,” he whispers.
Before I can continue, he rolls me over onto my back and pins me to this oversized cushion with a
stare. “Stop! If I seem distant it has nothing to do with you. I want us to be married. I want you to be
my wife and nothing, I repeat nothing will change that. Do you understand?”
Taken aback by his outburst, I offer a minimal response. “I do.”
“Good.” In one swift movement he is upright and pulling me to my feet by both hands. When we
are toe to toe, I feel a velvety kiss brush against my lips and, when I open my eyes, he’s gone.
I slump back down onto the sofa bed and grapple with my thoughts. Why has he left me? Does he
think I’ll be safer if we’re apart?
The enormous master suite seems to have grown in square footage since I last stepped inside it. The
oversized bed rests in the centre of the room covered by an overnight sprinkling of snow; white
bedding can be so cold and uninviting.
When I glance at the bedside clock it’s 3.30 a.m., but sleep is no friend of mine. Even that has
abandoned me. In no more than a robe I wander onto the terrace, seeking a distraction and images to
go with the music in my ears. Kele sings of Devotion and I look out onto the heart of Sin City, closing
my eyes, willing the Vegas night to seduce me with its bright lights and illusions. Anything is better
than this.
I’m rubbing my forearms, reminded of an emotional scar; that which has left me branded unworthy.
I had regarded myself as soiled goods for over six years. Feelings like that don’t simply disappear like
magic. Now, more than ever, I’m tormented by my own sense of unworthiness. Will I ever live up to
my own expectations or see myself as Ayden sees me?
Pulling my belt tight, I head in the direction of the bed settee, seeking out a space less vacuous than
the master bed. I pull the blanket around me and curl up on it, waiting for sleep to take pity on me and
receive me into its warm embrace.
I’m awakened with a start.
“What the hell are you doing out here? You’ll freeze to death.” Strong hands are slipping beneath
me and muscular arms are lifting me. I am cradled in Ayden’s arms, moving through the air, being
swept through curtains and …
“Let’s get you into bed. What were you thinking?”
Ayden’s lips are warm against my forehead and his breath is reassuringly hot on my face. I’m
beginning to melt in his arms. I blink my way into wakefulness. “You’ve come back. Did you forget
something?”
“Yes,” he murmurs. “You.”
He pulls back the covers and I slither into bed. “Are you staying?”
“Yes. I couldn’t stay away Beth.” With a gentle hand he brushes back my hair from my face and
slips away.
I watch him circle the bed like a moving shadow; he’s still wearing his suit from this evening.
“What time is it?”
“Late. Go to sleep. You‘ve a big day tomorrow.”
“We?”
He climbs into bed beside me. “Yes. You’re right. We have a big day tomorrow. Come here.”
I’m scrambling to his side of the bed, rolling and winding myself around him; draping my leg
across him, nuzzling his neck, grazing his chest with my palm. Now I can fall asleep.
In the darkness I listen to his irregular breathing. “Where did you go?”
“I have another suite down the hall. Hush. Go to sleep.”
“Couldn’t you work from here?”
“No. We have better equipment there. It’s a business suite …”
“ … We?”
“Yes, Jake and I. We had some business to attend to. But it’s nothing for you to worry about.” His
lips rest on my hair momentarily, silencing another lie. “Go to sleep Beth. I’m sorry I left you. What
was I thinking?”
I feel his arms constricting around me, to the point of suffocation. I try to raise my body a little and
he releases his grip ever so slightly.
“Were your two bodyguards with you?” I ask, knowing the answer even before the last word leaves
my lips.
“Yes. They were. But don’t worry about anything. Just close your eyes and go to sleep. Please. Can
you do that?”
I yawn and nod into his chest, flattening chest hair as it threatens to tickle my nose. “Goodnight
Ayden. I love you.”
As I drift, I hear his subdued reply. “I love you more.”
Feeling a little bewildered, I gain my bearings and look around.
Where am I?
My mouth is so dry I could down a pint of water in three seconds flat and the sound of running
water is doing little to ease my thirst. I pull on my bathrobe and enter the bathroom only to be
confronted by my fresh faced fiancé standing by the sink, brushing his teeth. I widen my stare to take
in the sight of him and of the towel balancing precariously on his hips.
Sensing his watchful eyes in the mirror, I fill a glass with water from the secondary sink. Even with
a mouthful of toothpaste I can tell he’s smiling.
Feeling rehydrated, I slip behind him and rest my cheek on his muscular back whilst enveloping
him in my arms. “Good morning fiancé,” I whisper softy.
TouchStone for giving (The Story of Us Trilogy) Page 36