by Croft, Pippa
‘You’ve done a good job of that all on your own.’
‘I know why he is treating me like this. You’ve told him about the sex clip, haven’t you? Just to make me and Rupert look bad.’
Alexander frowns. ‘What’s this about the clip?’
She shoots me a death look. ‘I knew she couldn’t wait to tell you. I knew she would go running to you, bleating about it.’
‘Actually, I haven’t even mentioned it,’ I say, still calm, waiting for the fireworks which will surely now come.
There is a long pause as Alexander looks from me to Valentina, and then we both watch as the colour gradually falls from her face.
‘Lauren?’ He turns to me.
Oh no, this isn’t the way I wanted to tell him but I guess I’d better get it over with. ‘It’s true,’ I mumble. ‘That sex video … I found out at the Boat Race party that she was the one who sent it, with Rupert’s help. I was going to tell you but the time never seemed right.’
There is another long pause, during which I wish there was a huge hole in the ground that could swallow me up and transport me straight back to my uncomplicated life back in Washington.
‘I see,’ he says quietly. I don’t think he truly wanted to believe that his ex fiancée would do something that low.
Valentina sneers. ‘Acting the saint suits you, Lauren. How can you stand it, Alexander?’
‘I’m glad to see you feel better, Valentina,’ he says icily. ‘It seems like you can leave immediately after all. Robert and Brandon will be here in a moment if you still need a hand.’
He turns and strides off towards the house.
She trots after him, her injury apparently miraculously healed. ‘Wait, tesoro! We can work this out.’
I go up to my room – I have to leave Alexander to sort this out and have, quite frankly, had enough of the pair of them. I get out my books and do my best to focus on what I realize I should be spending my time on anyway. For the first time, I really seriously question my decision not to go home and get away from all this.
From downstairs I hear shouting and doors slamming and I guess the staff are having a field day, probably selling tickets to watch the drama.
A few minutes later, I hear the thud of someone walking up the stairs.
The footsteps walk past the room and down the hallway, then pause. Seconds later, they start again and grow louder. They stop again outside my door and I stand up, expecting the door to fly open at any moment. My pulse picks up, ready for the fray, but there’s only silence and then a hissed whisper.
‘You little bitch. You think you have won but it’s not over. No one does this to me and gets away with it. Wait and see; you’ll regret the moment you ever got involved with Alexander.’
With a final expletive, and before I have a chance to open the door and return fire, she stomps off along the landing again, and there’s a loud thud as she slams her door.
I roll my eyes, getting back to my studies, or trying to anyway.
Eventually, I give that up. I really can’t concentrate so I try to find solace in my art, getting out my pencils and sketch pad. I flip through the drawings of Alexander I did when we were at Falconbury for the hunt ball. He found them and teased me about them, mainly because they were of him, not because of my skills, or lack of them. Looking at the sketches now with fresh eyes, I see they’re not nearly as bad as I’d remembered although, as ever, I can see acres of room for improvement.
Analysing them is a sobering exercise and I decide to go for a safer subject than Alexander so I sketch a picture of Benny, tail wagging, rooting in the hedgerows. I find drawing a mixture of delight and frustration; at times I can get lost for hours in my work but there’s always a point where I want to throw the sketchpad at the wall.
Before long, I’ve abandoned the dog and moved on, sketching the outline of a brooding Alexander, bare-chested and with his arm in a black sling. My fingers move faster, driven by the compulsion to capture his scowling fury with Valentina.
I’ve no idea how long I’ve been working but I become aware of raised voices outside the window and push my pad and pencil aside. Gravel crunches loudly and then a vehicle pulls up and stops at the front of the house. When I peer out of the window, I see Valentina tripping down the steps in her spiky boots – no sign of the ankle injury – while Robert packs her bags in the truck of the Bentley. Next to the car, Emma is handing notes to the driver of a cab just as Valentina waves away Robert’s attempt to help her into the Bentley.
I think she’s called to Valentina, who doesn’t seem to have replied. Robert shuts the door and a few moments later the car pulls away, leaving Emma watching from the steps. Knowing this is way too good to miss, I run downstairs into the hall and find Emma shrugging off her rucksack.
‘Hi there,’ she says, scrunching up her face in bewilderment. ‘Am I hallucinating or was that Valentina leaving just now? What have I missed?’
I give her a huge hug – I don’t think I’ve ever been so glad to see her. ‘Come in. I’ll tell you later,’ I mutter, helping her with her bags.
Later that evening, I’m sitting in the library with my laptop. Before dinner, Emma and I had a good catch-up and I filled her in on most of the day’s goings on. By evening, peace finally seems to have broken out in the house. Emma is in her room, Skyping her friends. Alexander has kept to his study – working, presumably, though whether it’s on his course or estate business, I don’t know. Earlier on, some officer from his regiment turned up at the house, and he’s been even more distracted ever since. I think the consequences of his injury and the effect it may have on his career, at least temporarily, have begun to hit home and it’s no wonder he’s been even quieter than usual.
The officer has long gone now and Alexander walks in to join me, carrying a bottle. ‘Want a drink?’ he asks, holding up some red wine. ‘I thought we could both do with one.’
‘Sounds good, but are you supposed to drink alcohol on your meds?’ I say, only half teasing.
He gives me an ‘Am I bothered?’ glare. ‘I’m not supposed to do a lot of things, but you’ll have to open it, I’m afraid. There’s a corkscrew and some glasses in the cabinet.’
After I’ve poured the wine, Alexander stands in front of the fireplace with his glass while I curl up on the leather chaise. Although it’s April, it’s cool enough for a fire, and the room is pink with the glow of the setting sun and flickering flames. I love the tang of woodsmoke; it reminds me of winters at home. It seems like a very long time since January, when we were last together as a family, and I’m shocked to feel a pang of homesickness. Maybe it’s a good thing my parents are visiting after all. They’re due to arrive in a couple of weeks’ time, though I’m still waiting to hear about the flight details.
‘Penny for them?’ he asks as I sip my wine.
‘Oh, I was only thinking of home. We have a fire in the sitting room sometimes. My dad loves to light one if he’s not working or flying round the country, which is rare.’
‘I’m sure he’s a very busy man. But I’ll get to meet him soon, won’t I?’
‘I guess so …’
‘Hmm, you don’t sound too keen.’ He watches me thoughtfully from the fireplace. ‘Lauren, I wish you’d told me about Valentina sending that video.’
‘There never seemed a good time, honestly, and we were past all that. I didn’t want to go over it again, and it seemed irrelevant after your accident. I thought it was better to move on and I had no idea that Valentina would show up here. Not this soon, anyway.’
‘I’d already realized she must have had a hand in it – there was no way anyone but her could have filmed and shared the clip – but I must admit I’m shocked at Rupert’s part in it.’
What can I say? He knows there’s no love lost between Rupert and me. And yet Rupert is his cousin, and was – still is – his friend.
‘Lauren?’ he prompts. Come on, just how much was Rupert involved?’ Clearly I’m not going to get away with not
answering this part. ‘Don’t make me resort to interrogation techniques.’ He’s trying to look serious, but the twinkle in his eyes is darkly sexy.
As always, I am powerless when he is like this. I lift my chin up and send him a challenging look. ‘I’m almost tempted to keep schtum, just to see you try some on me.’
He raises his eyebrows, laughing. ‘They’d involve you having no clothes on.’ He takes a step closer.
‘Then I’m definitely not telling you,’ I counter, my insides turning to liquid as I imagine the many things he might do to me with my clothes off.
His eyes are hooded now with desire, but he isn’t quite ready yet to give in.
‘Look, can’t we move on?’ I plead. ‘I honestly don’t know any more than I’ve told you. He and Valentina just decided it would be fun to taunt me when they thought you and I were history. That’s it.’
He glances away.
‘But why would Rupert do that? To me?’ He stops. For all his jibes at me, all his obvious resentment and jealousy – and envy – of Alexander, Rupert is one of his closest relatives.
‘I don’t know,’ I say, unwilling to speculate.
The smile is fleeting and he says, ‘You know, I can’t let this pass. I’ll have to deal with Rupert.’
Deal with. I wouldn’t like to be in Rupert’s brogues. ‘Alexander, leave it. You don’t want to upset Letty and your uncle.’
His tone hardens. ‘There’s no need for them to know. I’ll deal with him in my own way.’ He pauses. ‘I’ve also been thinking. Valentina talks a lot of rubbish but maybe she has a point in one respect. It was selfish of me to ask you to stay at Falconbury and keep you away from your family and friends.’
She said that to him? She’s even more cunning than I imagined. ‘You know, Captain Hunt, that doesn’t sound like you at all. Are you suffering from a terrible bout of self-pity?’ I tease, desperately wanting to lighten the situation.
He looks at me steadily and gives a little sigh. And then he laughs. ‘Lauren, you never cease to surprise me, you know?’
I hold out my hand to him. ‘Sit down, Captain Hunt. That’s an order.’
There’s a gleam in his eye as he obeys. ‘I don’t know about you, but I think we both deserve a smoother ride for a bit,’ he says, looking at me in that way that only Alexander can – as if he can see and feel every inch of me, as if he will never get enough of me.
‘I’m not sure that I want a smooth ride.’ I hold his gaze. ‘Not in one way anyway.’ I watch as his thigh nudges mine and I feel my heart might literally stop beating with the need I feel to kiss him.
‘In that case,’ he smiles, using his good hand to turn me towards him before snaking it under my T-shirt, ‘I can make it as rough as you like.’
‘How about I make it rough for you? Do you think you could handle that?’ I whisper.
He laughs. ‘Of course I can. I can take anything you can throw at me. Go on. Surprise me, Lauren,’ he says, his eyes alight with mischief.
‘Oh really? Let’s see, shall we?’
A short time later, we’re upstairs and the bedroom door is firmly locked because Alexander is lying naked on the bed. One of his arms is already effectively out of action, and the other is now secured to his bedpost with his old school tie.
I’m standing by the bed, still with my clothes on, watching him.
‘So, is this the best you can throw at me?’ he says.
I gaze at the impressive sight between his legs. ‘I haven’t even started. You’ll be begging for mercy by the time I’ve finished with you.’ At that I start to take off my top and unhook my bra.
‘I never beg.’
I smile but I can see he’s bursting to touch me. The fingers of his tied hand twitch.
I wag my finger. ‘No cheating. You can’t touch me. Not till I say.’
‘Not a problem.’
‘Yeah, sure.’ I unzip my mini and step out of it, taking a step closer to him.
He shakes his head. ‘Thigh-highs, heels and those knickers. Christ, that’s an underhand tactic.’
I arch an eyebrow innocently. ‘All’s fair in love and war.’
By the time I’ve climbed on to the bed to kneel between his legs, Alexander is unable to keep still and muttering curses under his breath. When I close my mouth around his penis, he moans shamelessly and the mattress creaks as he struggles against his bonds. He feels great, tastes deliciously wicked, and the power of making him writhe against me is wonderful.
‘You’d better let me go or it’ll all be over, Lauren, honestly.’
I carry on teasing him with my tongue, enjoying every delicious stroke.
‘Untie me, Lauren, come on!’
I glance up momentarily and smile, then go back down on him.
He moans and bucks his pelvis. ‘For God’s sake. I don’t think I can hold on. If you want me inside you, you seriously have to stop.’ I pause and he looks at me, grinning wickedly. ‘Otherwise, carry on, Ms Cusack.’
He says the last two words like he’s my commanding officer and he’s just given me an order. Although I’m bursting to be touched or to have him inside me, I restrain myself from freeing him and push myself to my knees. ‘I don’t think you’ve quite understood the game.’
‘What game?’
‘This.’ I climb off the bed and stand by the side. Then, grabbing an ice cube from one of the drinks on the table, I slowly move it round my breasts, rubbing it over the nipples.
He sighs deeply and murmurs, ‘You do know the US Constitution forbids cruel and unusual punishments …’
‘I believe it’s the Eighth Amendment. You consider this cruel and unusual?’
‘Yes,’ he groans. ‘Do you want me to die of frustration?’
‘Not die, just suffer quite a bit.’ I move closer, dropping the ice cube and he leans forward to suck my nipples. Having his hot mouth on my breasts is almost more than I can bear, but after a few seconds, I back away out of reach again.
The bedpost rattles and thumps against the wall as he tries to jerk his hand free of the bond and I must admit there are red lines around his wrist. That knot does looks vicious.
‘What have you done? I can’t get out of this. Lauren, I need to get out. I can’t wait any more.’
I almost give in and then I remember that he’s trained in resisting interrogation techniques. I harden my heart.
‘Sorry, not falling for that.’ Standing by the bed, I turn around. With my back to him, I inch my thong slowly down over my thighs. I’m aware that he has a close-up view and that’s the intention. As I stretch further over to give him an even better view of my backside, the curses and moans coming from the bed make me want to giggle. However, I’m so turned on myself, it takes everything I have not to climb on top of him right now. Finally, I step out of the thong, pick it up and turn around. I dangle it in front of his face, tickling his nose with the lacy hem.
‘Lauren, really, you win. I think I might actually explode. Let me go, please.’
‘Is that begging?’
Carefully, I arrange the thong like a war trophy across his stomach. The wispy lace looks great against the muscles of his abs and I wonder how much longer I can keep this up. It’s definitely becoming a torment for me too. His lips twist in a defiant smile. ‘I wouldn’t exactly call it begging.’
‘Have it your way, then.’ I snatch up my thong and make as if to pull it back up my thighs as coolly as I can.
‘OK! OK, you win. I’m begging you to untie me, screw me, anything, just put me out of my misery,’ he moans and I can no longer hold myself back. I straddle him, holding eye contact as I slide myself over him as quickly and easily as I’ve ever done anything in my life. I watch as his mouth opens in sheer ecstasy, and then I am lost myself as he circles his hips and thrusts up into me, crying out with the relief.
Then I start to touch myself again, and he loses it totally, squeezing his eyes shut and pumping into me. But I don’t want to climax yet; this is too delicious, a
nd I …
Wow!
Slowly, gradually, I come back down and into the real world, my hands braced behind me, still sitting on top of him.
He watches me, breathing heavily.
‘Lauren, the moment I’m capable … you’d better watch out, because I can promise you my revenge will be very, very sweet.’
I ease myself off him, throbbing and tingling inside, out of breath, exhausted but elated. ‘I’ll look forward to it, but first I have no idea how I’m going to untie that knot.’
CHAPTER NINE
A week later, I’m sipping cocktails with Immy on the deck of a riverside bar in Henley-on-Thames. She doesn’t live too far away so we’ve met up here for dinner.
‘So, how’s Alexander doing?’ she asks as we watch the scullers glide past on the river, and the water sparkles in the early evening sun.
‘Much better. He had the stitches taken out the week before last and he might be able to do away with the sling soon, if the physio gives him the all clear at his appointment tomorrow. I hope so – it’s been driving him insane not being able to drive or ride or do the stuff he wants to.’
‘Ouch.’
‘Yes, but, you know, the past week or so has been a period of amazing calm. We’ve been on lots of walks around the estate, and it’s been chilled; I’ve never really seen Alexander like that. We’ve had the odd smart trip out, a dinner at the Fat Duck in Bray, and a couple of lazy pub lunches, but other than that we’ve just been relaxing, and I’ve been working a bit. Not enough probably, but a bit.’
‘Hmm. Not just relaxing I should imagine,’ snorts Immy. ‘There’s no way you two can go without sex for long. It must have been challenging though, with his arm out of action?’ she says, her eyes twinkling.
My cheeks heat a little. ‘Yes, well, you’re right, it has demanded some creative solutions …’
She laughs. ‘I can imagine. And has our Valentina materialized again since Alexander sent her packing?’
‘Not heard anything, but there’s always the potential for her do a Fatal Attraction,’ I say with a smile, making light of things but hoping I don’t hear from her again.