Guests glittered with jewels and sparkly dresses under the garden lights. Some looked elegant, a few looked like they had tried too hard, but all seemed like they were having a good time
“Everyone who’s anyone is here,” she murmured once, as Carlos excused them both from one group and moved quickly toward another.
“Everyone who can boost my chances of nomination,” he answered. “This is the perfect occasion to make sure that certain people see us in a certain light. The Diaz name still dazzles—and of course your beauty helps.”
Ruby bit down on her lip, suppressing a desire to tell him that she wished their engagement could have been a less public, less politically motivated affair.
“Now that we are engaged we will of course be spending more time in Washington.”
Ruby’s eyes widened. “Washington? But what about my dreams? What about Casa Rosa? I thought…couldn’t I commute? I could come and join you when you need me.”
Carlos’ eyes narrowed, he leant in close to her, his voice low and stained with determination. “I need you, Ruby. Your place is with me. Your future is with me.”
“But, I’ve already managed to raise some money through crowd-funding. I put a notice on Facebook—so many people are wanting to back me,” she said breathlessly, “Carlos this is important to me. There is so much need. So much to be done.”
“My life is in politics and I need my wife to understand that. I need her to support that. You do see that don’t you? Take something else up as a hobby, just don’t make it your career.” He kissed her briskly on the top of her head.
“But Carlos, don’t you see, it gives me purpose. It makes me happy.”
“About children? About things that have no place in our life?”
Ruby’s eyes blazed indignantly. “About making a difference. About sharing my experience, about helping others.”
“No! I need you beside me, supporting me—as a good wife should.”
Ruby searched his face for a sign. A sign that he was jesting. A sign that he did not mean to treat her as a possession, as an asset purely to further his career. Her heart sunk when she saw the resolve in his eyes and felt the steely determination of his arm wrapping around her.
“I cannot have my wife working. Not with the Senate elections looming so soon. That is final.”
This is supposed to be the best day of my life, Ruby reasoned sadly, weaving her way through the crowd. Her breathing was rapid, her chest constricted. She needed space, fresh air, to escape, if but for a moment.
“I hear congratulations are in order,” Oliver said blocking her path.
Ruby sprung back, startled.
“My gift suits you,” he said, gesturing to the butterfly clip in her hair.
“This was from you? You knew about Carlos’ plans? He told you?”
Oliver could hear the hurt in her voice, he could taste the bitter unspoken accusation. ‘Why didn’t you stop him?’
He didn’t know. All he knew was that he was here now, and it wasn’t too late. “I have another gift,” he said. “A flight.” Of passion, he said silently, thinking that if she did not come willingly he would take her.
“I can’t,” she said.
“You can. Carlos is going back to The States tomorrow.”
“He is? He didn’t mention it.”
Oliver arched an eyebrow. “Do you talk to each other?”
“Of course we talk—it’s just that…”
“It’s just that tomorrow morning you’ll be free to come flying with me.”
Ruby looked back toward the party, her shoulders slumping as discordant voices buoyed by lavish amounts of alcohol twisted in the air. She turned back to him, her eyes glistening like stars. “Okay, why not.”
“Good. Pack an over night bag.”
“No, Oliver I can’t do that. It will have to be a day trip. It wouldn’t be right.”
Fear clutched greedily at his innards. He felt like something precious was slipped away from him.
“A day trip it is,” he said too quickly. Oliver hated lying to her, in fact he was useless at it, but he couldn’t see another way. He needed to have time with her alone, and a day trip wouldn’t cut it. “But pack a change of clothes and some woman’s stuff just in case the weather turns. One should always be prepared. We’re heading for the mountains. You never know.”
She regarded him dubiously, a frown on her delicate features.
“I don’t know. Why do I get the feeling I can’t trust you. Like you’re up to something?”
“It’s a surprise. Something I want to give you.”
“You’ve already given me the perfect gift. Honestly, I love it.”
Ruby lifted her hand to her hair, and trailed her fingers over the butterfly clip. Her palm rested against it momentarily as though she was communing with it, asking the bejewelled creature whether or not she should deny him his wish.
When she spoke her voice had that husky quality that always excited his libido. “Just for the day, right?”
Relief fizzed in his blood. “Just for the day.”
POSSESSION
To possess somebody is to destroy all possibility of love
~ Osho ~
TWENTY-SIX
“When are you going to let me go?” Ruby demanded, pacing the polished tiled floor of the remote hillside retreat where Oliver had hidden her.
She should have looked happy surrounded by the vista of carefully tended gardens, filled with brilliantly hued flowers and towering ancient trees. Normally she would have noticed how the planting complemented the naturally lush, virgin, tropical landscape.
But Oliver knew now that it only reminded her of Casa Rosa, her home. The home he had abducted her from after her engagement was announced on the pretense of a celebratory flight of passion in his chopper.
“You can’t keep me locked up here, cut off from the world for ever.”
Oliver scowled. Did she take him for a fool? He was fully aware he couldn’t keep her closeted away from danger like the fragile butterflies he so zealously protected. No matter how much he wanted to.
Not like this. Not against her will. Not forever.
Oliver scanned the horizon, frowning as the thunderclouds moved rapidly across the morning sky.
“I’ll be missed,” she said, solemnly.
Oliver bit his bottom lip solemnly. I’ll miss you too if I set you free. He shifted his gaze from the approaching storm and turned slowly toward her.
“Do you really think letting you go will give you back your freedom?”
Ruby’s brow knitted together. “I want to go home,” she said softly.
Oliver shook his head slowly, “I’m doing this for you, Ruby. I saw how miserable you looked when he slipped on that ring. You’ll thank me later.”
Ruby’s hands flew to her hips, “I’m not a butterfly, Oliver. I’m not some fragile, vulnerable creature you need to save from predators.”
She marched toward him her gaze unwavering. “I’m not someone you can capture, mount, pin and preserve in some protected glasshouse. I can make my own choices, my own decisions—not yours!”
Oliver smiled wryly. He studied her meticulously, savoring the unique specimen that she was. Having fire in her belly suited her. “You’re very hot when you get angry,” he said playfully.
As he gazed upon her it suddenly occurred how much she had come to mean to him. The way her cheeks flushed the prettiest shade of pink when she got mad. The clear shade of blue her eyes became when she was thundering home her point of view. The tenderness she had shown when she was nursing his wounds.
The brilliant intelligence, equally matched by a compassionate generous heart, she had revealed when she finally trusted him enough to share her dreams for refuge of a children. The impatient pout of her soft pink lips, now as she stood waiting for his response.
She was a keeper, but why was she always running away?
“You want to go. Fine,” he grabbed her by the hand more forcibly the
n he intended, and pulled her toward him violently. Her body yielded readily, unexpectedly warm and pliant. She fell against his heaving chest.
She looked up at him, their eyes met, glanced away, sought each other again. Was he mistaken or was that longing he saw indelibly printed in her eyes?
“I want to go home,” she said softly, burying her face into his chest. “I’m needed.” Her words tumbled hesitantly.
Oliver wanted to shake sense into her and roar, “I need you too. What about what I want? What we both want?” But pride, or was it ego, demanded she tell him she needed him first.
He set his jaw, irritated by the impossibility of it all. A large cloud shaded the sun, engulfing the room into dull, dank light.
“You need saving from yourself, Ruby. Always doing what others want, always letting others use you...”
“Use me!” She pulled away from him and flew to the other side of the room. She spun around furiously. “The only reason you came back into my life was to get your precious butterfly,” her voice quivered.
“You knew?”
“Yes, but not the way you think. I never rummaged around in that filthy pack of yours. Your sister contacted me.”
“Jacqui?” Why? What possible reason would she have? Nothing was making sense. “Ruby, let me explain…” Oliver walked toward her.
“Don’t bother explaining. Jacqui told me. Did you really think so little of me? But that’s not the point. The point is you still blame me don’t you? I know you think I betrayed your trust. But when my parents asked me about you all those years ago, I felt I had to be honest. So, yes, I told them about your past. I don’t like secrets. Secrets always cover lies. So when they I asked if the rumors they’d heard were true I told them about the things you had done. The time you’d spent as a teenager in borstal, because none of it mattered to me. I loved you. I knew you’d changed since then. I thought they’d understand like I understood. You were young. Angry. Hurt. Immature. I got that. I still get that.”
“Your parents still think I’m a pyromaniac. That I’ll set fire to their precious name, burn the family heritage, blacken their fortunes. Okay, sure I was a little rash. But when I set fire to the toilet rolls I never thought the fire would spread and burn down the school gymnasium. And I never thought my parents would shun me either, leaving the state to issue corrective care. I did my time—and I paid the price,” he said, the tempo of his voice slowing as though relieved to be finally expelling all the hurt of the past.
“But I never told you why. Now I want you to understand why I did the things I did and how this messed up fool never stopped loving you.”
Avoiding his insistent gaze she retreated as he approached. She sucked in a shallow gulp of air. “This isn’t love. Snatching me because you can’t have what you want. Pretending it’s for my own protection. I can’t live like this—wondering where or how or when you’ll take my freedom.”
“You don’t understand—”
“Don’t...” she shook as he came closer, tears welled in her eyes. “I understand just fine. If you loved me you wouldn’t have stayed away all these years. You’ve been trying so hard to be better than my family. And now you’re trying to prove you’re better than Carlos. Well, congratulations. You’ve won. You’re their equal, because you’re just like them—motivated by possession. At least Carlos and my family are honest. Not lying and sneaking around behind my back.”
Oliver grimaced. He hung his head momentarily, before lifting his gaze to hers. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “You’re right.”
There, he’d said it. Finally said what he’d wanted to confess all along. Not just about the butterfly and his stupid bird-watching story, but his sorrow for all those years he’d stayed away. His sadness for all the things he should have said to her but didn’t. His regret for all the times he should have been there for her but wasn’t. And the fact that she had been right. Right to walk away from him all those years ago. Right to escape now.
But mostly he was sorry for the man he had become. There was no point explaining. How could she possibly understand when he didn’t understand himself?
He only knew that just now, in this moment with the girl that meant the world to him, he’d seen his father and he hated how like him he had become. A cold, emotionally closed prick who’d thought he could control everything and everyone.
Even the woman he loved.
In a blinding flash of clarity Oliver vowed to do the thing he swore he would never do.
TWENTY-SEVEN
“If you love something, someone, you’ve got to set them free,” Oliver affirmed quietly, as he reached into his pack.
“What are you doing?” Ruby’s gaze flickered from his face to the butterfly as he took it from the glass jar and held it gently in his hands.
“I’m letting it go.” He looked deep into her eyes, her wide gaze,and diluted pupils told him more than words ever could that she understood the magnitude of his decision.
She watched as he lifted the butterfly, suspended between his thumb and forefinger, in to the air.
“But it means everything to you. What about the scientific article? What about the naming rights? What about completing your grandfather’s collection? What about everything you’ve waited a lifetime for?” she said quickly, the words tumbling into the charged atmosphere as rapidly as her heart was beating.
“None of that matters now. I have the meconium my sister needs—the other things, well I thought they mattered, but they don’t. What’s the point if I’ve got no one to share my passions with? What’s the point if I have no heir to leave a legacy? What’s the point of collecting more stuff to gather dust? Besides I’ve always preferred seeing butterflies fly free. I’d like to think by letting her go she’ll flourish.”
“Let’s go,” Oliver carefully avoided her bewildered gaze and studied the fast moving clouds. “Quickly before I change my mind.”
Oliver strode across the room, threw open the door. The warm summer wind surged in enveloping him in sticky, humid heat. He ran his fingers around his collar. Everything felt so tight, so hot, so constricting.
The wind whipped through the trees, rustling the leaves, and bending the pliant branches back and forth. His own willpower ached to be bent too, as he waited for Ruby to gather her things and wait to be dispatched back to her life without him. But he stood firm.
He studied Ruby acutely aware that she was the reason for both his happiness and his sorrow. He’d never felt more torn and yet more certain. Could he really do it? Could he really change who he had become? He turned to her.
She stood in the doorway like an angel of light, the morning sun caught the gold highlights in her hair, sending them shimmering in a halo above her head. The wind flirted along the hem of her sheer cotton dress.
Ruby said nothing, just stood there momentarily with sadness pooling in her eyes, and sorrow tugging at the corners of her lips as though saddled with unbearable regret. Her hands moved gently to her thighs, holding her skirt firm, as the wind stirred by Oliver’s helicopter circled in a whirlpool of sultry, humid air.
His breath caught in his chest. God, she was beautiful. He clenched his fists and steeled his resolve.
“What are you waiting for?” he growled as he jumped into the pilot’s seat. “Get a move on.” He scanned the sky again. “The wind’s not a problem now but it will be if you dilly-dally much longer,” he cursed.
“I can’t find my handbag,” she called, her voice etched with worry.
“Get in,” he commanded. “I’ll get it. I know just where it is.”
Ruby hesitated. It struck him she looked unusually worried. But he thought nothing more of it. Perhaps it was just nerves.
“Come on,” he urged. “The way the wind is getting up, we can’t afford to wait any longer. Not unless you fancy another night with me,” he held his breath, hoping that she would give him the excuse he wanted to break his resolve.
He exhaled a disappointed sigh as Ruby came rushin
g toward him, ducking beneath the blades
“We both know that can’t happen,” she frowned as she took his outstretched hand, then allowed him to help her into the chopper. Her sweet scent filled the small cabin as she jumped into the passenger seat. Her soft smile temporarily thawed his solemn mood.
Did she have to be that thrilled about going?
“I’ll go fetch your bag,” he rasped.
Oliver raced back inside and searched the bedroom. Spying it partially hidden in the corner of the bedroom, he picked it up roughly. The contents spilled onto the floor. He scooped them up impatiently, threw a backward glance at the strange looking pen which had rolled under the bed. He left it and walked out of the room.
“Thanks—you’re a life saver,” she said clutching it as he handed it to her.
Oliver bit his bottom lip and fixed his gaze firmly on the panel of instruments. Somehow he doubted it.
Ruby nestled into the leather seat and grinned. “It’s just like being on The Bachelor,” she said quietly, closing the door gently and turning to him.
“Yeah, but you didn’t choose me did you?” he busied himself with the flight instruments as soon as the wayward words had splurted out.
Damn. If there was one thing he didn’t plan to do it was wear his heart on his cotton sleeve. Not again. He steeled his resolve. Keep your mind on the task.
“Safety first,” Oliver said, trying not to noticed how her chest heaved and quivered.
He fought a heady desire to kiss her as he reached over and tightened her seatbelt. He swallowed hard as his gaze drifted from her breasts to her smooth flat stomach. He allowed himself to savor her long slinky limbs exposed by the thigh high splits marching a line of seduction along her flimsy dress. Who knew when he would see her again.
He inhaled her scent again, growing momentarily intoxicated by her feminine odor, and basked in the warmth of her soft skin as his fingers brushed against her chest when he withdrew his arm.
Damn it, I can’t help how I feel. His hands moved over her hungrily. Possessively. Ruby barely had time to resist. No chance to protest as his lips came down to take possession of her own. Strapped in her seat belt she did the only thing possible. She surrendered.
Flight of Passion: True romance and the obsession for love Page 10