by Lee, Corri
"Is your youngest still refusing to partake in the family business?"
"Blaze, my boy— I would do anything to get my little ball-buster in and Tally out. I still maintain that you'd get on like a house on fire. You could be good for her." If Tallulah was anything to go by, I really doubted that we'd have any common ground, though secretly I admired that she wouldn't participate in the family business, giving the less legitimate side of it an extremely wild berth. Henry hadn't become so successful by making friends and had too many enemies. I could imagine his life being very lonely.
Besides, I had my woman. "Sorry, old chap. I've very recently acquired a ball-buster of my own."
I looked up because I felt her approach me. Not the confident woman who'd been working the room all night, but the lost ghost I'd met at first. But I could still see how much she wanted me in the way she reacted when I looked in her direction. Her cheeks underneath the mask flushed, her eyes flared with desire and her step faltered. I could make her remember every way I'd touched her in the bedroom and just by glancing in her general direction.
And when she was thinking about it, so was I. "And there go my balls."
The closer she got, the more I wanted to step forward and pull her into my arms, pick her up and carry her out of that room to make those memories a reality. But I also wanted to show her off so she knew that I was proud to have her with me. "Henry," I reached for her and curled my arm around her waist, "meet my very significant other." Emmeline offered her hand bashfully, keeping her head low like he was too rich to look at. She looked so sweet and nervous.
Henry kissed the back of her hand and smiled to himself. "Miss White, yes?" He'd obviously seen the seating plan. "Not very talkative, are you?"
"She's here under sufferance, I've just brought her to show her off." Because I was elated to have arrived with the most beautiful woman in the room, maybe the country. Almost certainly the planet.
"At a masquerade party? Daft sod." As silly as it seemed to him, I'd had my reasons. I knew the anonymity would comfort her around the people she'd feel awkward forcing conversation with; people who oozed affluence and wealth.
She stood patiently like a serene statue while Henry and I spoke, watching and absorbing all the action. We exchanged polite chit-chat about work and family, musing over gatherings past before the Tudor's followed their youngest daughter into London and Henry's staffing problems.
Emmeline spoke clearly and coolly when she was spoken to, smiling when appropriate and allowing Henry to look at her engagement ring without pause for thought. Anyone would have thought she'd been perfectly trained in the proper etiquette for these kinds of events— she didn't appear even slightly ruffled if she was being watched.
"Beautiful, just beautiful. Like the young lady beneath that mask, I suspect." Henry gave me a many slap on the shoulder and winked so Emmeline couldn't see. I had his approval on my choice of woman, and that stood for a lot in my eyes. He was a shrewd judge of character. "I've taken up enough of your evening. Show the lady how real men dance." Finally.
I loved the way she nestled up against my chest to dance, and how she was just the right height for me to rest my cheek on her head so she could hear me sing to her. I could feel her smile, and when she looked up at me for a kiss, her innocent smile made me melt a little— an innocence dispelled by the hunger in her kiss.
"Are you bored? You're very quiet. You could have spoken to Henry, he's not all that bad." It was important to me that all the big characters in my life got on with each other. I hated time wasted on conflict.
She ran her hands up my jacket as she snuggled in closer to me, moulding against the muscles I knew she could feel well through my suit. That was why I'd worn it— I wanted her to feel as proud to me as I did her.
"What was I supposed to say to him? Tell him that he should stop frittering money away on new property and ventures and focus on what he already has? That throwing money at a problem doesn't make it go away and comfort can't be bought? His employees are flailing through lack of leadership, not lack of inspiration." I arched a brow in surprise. She never ceased to amaze me when she opened that mouth and came out with something unexpectedly profound and intelligent. I knew her so well, and yet so little. Now, I had a lifetime to learn more. "What? I'm not as stupid as I look. That 'dumb blonde' is only fifty percent accurate."
"You've done a survey of blondes?"
"No, you're either a dumb blonde or you're not. Fifty-fifty." Oh. Embarrassing. Secretly, I blamed her for catching me off guard and being so outstanding in every way that it made my brain go soft like mush.
WHILE we danced, I let my imagination get carried away with me. I dared to imagine our first dance, how she'd look in an elegant white dress I'd have to resist the urge to pick for her, and how she'd look underneath it. Even images of how she'd look swollen with my children growing inside her flooded my mind, if that was even a possibility after her 'difficulties' as a teenager. There definitely wasn't a good way to broach that subject.
But I wanted all of that with her. I wanted those little dreams to become little realities, and I knew that I had to set my affairs straight before they could happen. There were a few discrepancies and inconveniences that needed my attention, and they were the only things stopping me from taking Scott's little joke about Vegas and turning it back on him.
Esme strode across the dance-floor between us, wanting me to answer the question I knew her eyes were screaming. Did she accept the ring? She fist-pumped the air when I made my barely discernible nod, and closed the distance between us, complimenting Emmeline on how beautiful she looked.
"Mind if I pull her away, Blaze?" I might have objected if Emmeline hadn't look so pleased to see her. As her only female friend, Esme was the only person who could really relate and enjoy our engagement in the typical girlish-giggling way. The gay couple might have had their fair share of opinions on the big day, but Esme could enjoy the hype that lead up to it, something that would last for a while yet.
WHEN they left, I was inundated with questions from clucking women who'd seen us dancing, asking who my partner was, how serious we were and what had been so wrong with the daughters they'd been trying to pimp out for years. More annoyingly, I was collared by Helen Rosen, a notoriously conceited and self-obsessed woman who knew my mother. She rambled incessantly about her son, who I'd never met but got the impression that he was as big-headed and pig-ignorant as his parents. They'd found wealth like Henry— because of Henry— and weren't even slightly modest about it. It was hard to guess which parts of Helen were still real.
I didn't want to know about her son's wedding. I didn't want to know about all the things his fiancée did that mine didn't. And no, I didn't want to see the photographs, but she showed me anyway. The wholesome copper haired boy next door standing with a long, raven haired stick figure of diluted Asian origin, painted on smiles all round. Yeah, I liked to think that Emmeline and I looked a little more edgy and a lot happier. In fact, I knew we did.
"Excuse me, lady and gent," the huge red mask that was Esme sashayed to us and positioned herself in the middle of the unwanted conversation. Again, thank god for the cavalry. "I hate to interrupt, but Ivy would like to test her third eye on you and your lovely new fiancée." Shit. Ivy Tudor had a gift for spotting soul mates and poor matches. What the hell would I do if she gave us the death sentence? Would Emmeline take it to heart and give up, and would I let her?
But they were standing together, and I wanted to be near my girl. I was confident that she'd see in us what she'd seen in all the other couples I'd watch grow closer and more blissful. I wanted that thumbs up.
"Blaze, darling!" Looking outlandishly youthful, Ivy Tudor peered at me from behind her bright pink mask. How had her oldest daughter gone so wrong when she looked so magnificent for her age, topped in blonde curls with an almost embarrassingly impressive figure? It made me wonder what the other Tudor daughter looked like.
"Ivy." I kissed the back of her hand a
nd turned my attention to the beauty pressed up against me. I'd wrapped my arm around her without even realising. "You look wonderful. And you appear to have met the only other woman in the room who comes close enough to compare." You had to give me my dues, I knew how to handle rich, important women.
Ivy smiled to herself, then directed it up to me. "I have indeed, young man. Let me look at you both without those silly masks."
My fingers pulled at the strands of ribbon attached to Emmeline's mask. My god, I'd almost forgotten how divine she was. It damn near took my breath away. She seemed to go through the same motions when I removed my own mask, and something shifted and click into place. This woman was mine, and would be forever. I'd do anything— anything, to make sure of it.
"Oh yes," Ivy gushed, "yes, you're perfect together. I'll be on tenterhooks waiting for news of your engagement." And approval from the Child of Cupid. We couldn't fail. My complications would have to be resolved, and quickly. I couldn't risk leaving anything to time or chance.
I took Emmeline's left hand in mine and kissed the emerald on her finger, then kissed her soft, pink lips. "Actually Ivy, I concreted my intentions to keep the lovely Emmeline just this afternoon."
"Oh!" Ivy snatched her hand from my grip to critique the ring. "Beautiful, simply beautiful. Like the lady herself. "Masks back on, my loves! We must celebrate!"
AND BOY DID we celebrate. From that day, my life would become about celebrating every day I had with that girl. As hungover as we were, we made love through the night, slept only briefly and started again in the morning. It didn't matter to me that she jumped up to be sick because we both laughed about it, and laughter was something my life had seen too little of. Love like ours came around once in a lifetime, as did women like Emmeline. And yes, I had to celebrate that.
We fooled around in the lift down to breakfast like we were already newly-weds, hands always on each other and nearly always lips. Dressed in our formal outfits from the mixer, we looked dishevelled but peaceful, focused only on each other. That lift ride might have been the single-most best moment in my life. It was the moment I knew our fates were inextricably juxtaposed. No matter what, we would always be connected.
It made me smile to watch Emmeline crane her neck to look around at the impressive structure of the hotel. I don't think she even realised she was doing it, and I'd been in enough expensive hotels, restaurants and venues to take it for granted, so I got a good view of her wide, awed eyes. They really were an amazing and unusual colour. I'd seen it elsewhere but just couldn't place it...
"So what do you hunger for, Miss White?" I shoved her gently when she gave me that look. I wanted that too, but she needed to refuel first. I had a week left before I had to resume caring duties and I had big plans to spend most of it admiring that starry-eyed look she got when I'd made her come so hard her head spun. "Something that doesn't involve one or both of us making sex noise."
"But where's the fun in that? I'm actually jonesing for black coffee and scrambled eggs." She had no idea how good it felt for me hear her talk about being hungry. The idea that she might go back down the road of anorexia someday put the fear of God in me. I wouldn't be able to watch her suffer— I'd suffer with her.
"After the pounding you just got, are they not already scrambled?" She tried to look affronted but failed. I hoped I hadn't accidentally touched a raw nerve.
"Look, see. Scrambled eggs on toast. Perfect. If I eat real quickly, we can get back up to that big ol' bed before check out time and you can bash my head against the headboard a few more times."
"Okay!" Now she was talking! "Chop chop, vixen. I have plans for us this afternoon."
"Oh?" Her face lit up like a kid at Christmas. The woman was bloody insatiable and I loved it. Her greed for me was a real turn on, just one on a long and extensive list.
"Not those plans. God woman, you'll kill me before the honeymoon."
All of a sudden, she turned away. Dread bubbled in my stomach. Had she changed her mind?
"So you know, I'm really in no rush to—"
"Me either." I was quick to reassure her. As eager as I was to make her my wife, and despite the wrongs I had to set right before that could happen, I wasn't going to push her harder than she wanted. Too many people had done that to her in the past. I knew she needed the control, that's why she looked so relieved. "I'm still not done terrorising you. It's been less than a day, there's no need to rush it all now when we have all the time in the world."
ESME caused a welcome distraction, walking in looking like Death himself. While the girls spoke, I took the opportunity to admire how amazing Emmeline looked even when hungover. She had come so far from the waif in baggy clothes and looked like she was, herself, expensive. Maybe even worth millions. Luxury suited her and she wore it well. It was like a kick in the nuts every time I saw her— I couldn't believe my luck.
Unable to keep our hands off each other when we weren't talking to someone, we stumbled out onto the open terrace attached to the dining room, barely keeping our coffees from spilling. My fast reactions saved the cups when she ground to a standstill right in front of me, face draining of colour like she'd seen a ghost.
"Emmeline?"
A hesitant croak left her mouth and she stepped back, gaze fixed on the other three guests sitting with Esme. "Oh, um... hello."
Henry and Ivy sat on either side of Tallulah, the daughter I'd been fortunate enough to avoid at the mixer, still dressed in their evening clothes sans masks. They'd been nice enough to put us in one of their suites when we stumbled across the street from The Roses with our female companions barely able to hold themselves straight.
And they were looking at Emmeline the same way she was looking at them. Stunned. Mortified. Maybe even confused.
"Henry," I took the coffee cup from Emmeline's hand before her white knuckle grip snapped the handle and urged her towards the table, "you know of my best girl?"
"I should say so, as your best girl is also my best girl."
Emmeline made the strangest noise of shame, guilt and woe. It took a moment to register why she looked so green around the gills, but when it did, I pulled her back into the dining room, completely dumbstruck. She was the missing Tudor— the daughter who wouldn't play house. No wonder she held herself so well around a high-end crowd. She was worth millions herself, even if she was living like a bum on bookshop wages.
I didn't know how the hell to react. She wasn't helping matters by looking so ashamed. "Why the hell didn't you tell me Henry and Ivy are your parents?"
"You didn't ask?" The obtuse retort pissed me off. If she could be so honest about everything else, why was this such a big secret? Did she think I'd start trying to chip away at her hidden fortune? Didn't she fucking know me at all? "You know enough about my family to know that I'm not an active member. If it doesn't matter to me, it shouldn't matter to you."
But it did. It mattered a lot because she was the daughter of a man I respected deeply. Hell, if I'd have known, I'd have proposed properly so he didn't feel like his dear daughter had been short changed. I would have asked his god damn permission like a gentleman. I owed him that for all the times he'd helped me.
And that was when it clicked. Henry was always happy to help me, and this time, I needed help to make his little girl happy for the rest of her life. He had the power to do things I'd struggle to do— make plans I couldn't even dream of concocting. He could be my greatest ally, and he could help me set this right.
"You're right." I grabbed Emmeline's hands and pulled her up to her feet, wrapping her arms around my neck so I could kiss her. She was worth all that I would have to do, and she was worth it to Henry too. The first little while would be tough while I was forced to keep her at arm's length, but after that, she'd always be happy because I'd make sure of it. I'd devote my life to it. "So if you don't mind, I'm going to go and find out if you come with a dowry."
"What? Hey!" Feeling lighter already, I took our plates from the approaching waiter and r
ejoined the Tudors and Esme, putting Emmeline's down in between Esme and Ivy so she could eat while I spoke to Henry. She needed that energy even more now— I would be flaming for her when I got her alone.
"Henry, old boy. I believe it's customary for me to seek your blessing. Let's take a walk."
WE walked down to the trellis at the bottom of the hotel's garden before I braced myself the way I always did before I begged a favour from Henry. This had to be by far the biggest ask I had for him, and I technically owed him thousands.
"You had no idea, did you?" He shocked me by talking first, reaching up to one of the honeysuckle blossoms. "You thought she was just a broken girl you picked up from the gutters and turned into a queen. Your queen."
"She was already a queen, I just helped her see it." Nodding, he turned back to me, brow arched expectantly. The man could read me so well— he knew there was more. "Henry," I rasped, hands balling into fists at my sides, "I want to be upfront with you. I love your daughter and I'd love nothing more than to marry her with your blessing. But there are things that stop me. Things nobody knows."
He listened patiently while I told him about the side of my life nobody save— the part that forced me to keep my distance from Emmeline. I explained how Natasha had been diagnosed just as we were due to head out on tour and considered being with me her dying wish. I explained how we married in secret quickly so I'd get everything when I was gone— my reward for humouring her when she knew how much I'd be sacrificing. And I explained why the situation was particularly bothersome— the lies and the betrayal that meant I deserved my life back with what I'd earned. When I finished, he nodded and looked out across the room to the table where the women in his life sat.
"So what exactly is it you're after, son? My blessing to carry on keeping secrets from my daughter, or my help so you can live happily ever after?"