by Linda Swain
Reaching across the table, he brought her hand to his lips. “And what would you like to do first? Perhaps walk the beach while it is still cool?”
“Oh, could we?” she begged.
He wondered if she realized what an enigma she was to him. She was at once everything that he could have ever dreamed, and yet still so terribly innocent. Soon, they were walking along the quiet surf, and once more, his easy laughter was rolling forth as she hesitated to kick off her expensive shoes. “Come, take them off,” he coaxed as he pointed to his own bare feet.
“But I’ll ruin my stockings!” she protested, producing further gales of laughter. “Ma belle, you have little to worry about. You have as many pairs upstairs to ruin as you see fit, and if you require more, than you shall have them.”
Extending his arm, his brow lifted until she carefully removed her shoes. It was then that it seemed as if she had entered a wonderland as the surf tickled her feet, stopping to watch as gulls dipped and dived into the water.
Being with Ashton was so . . . so different. He gave her something that before she had only known when on stage: the confidence to leave behind her memories of the orphanage. To run carefree along the sand and yet still see the world in his eyes when she returned to his side. It was freeing as she gamboled around in the sand. Watching her, knowing her past, Ashton wondered if what her thoughts would be if she knew of his past.
Running his finances and possessions under the threatening nose of Hitler’s growing regime had taken a great deal of wit and finesse. Those with the connections to do so had already taken leave of their native lands in search of a safer haven, so Ashton was in fine company here in the United States. But it had not been an easy task; merely taking care to keep his loved ones out of the German’s radar had been a chore in itself. But at last, all was safe in this new country, and now, along with a new bride, Ashton finally felt safe. And Katherine, his wife, made all the strife worth every moment.
Now he was able to indulge her, as he had so wanted. They had explored the battery of shops that the hotel offered its guests, and Kat could only stare at the gleaming expanse of wares that had been displayed so tastefully.
Kissing her hand, Ashton gave her a sly wink and led her over to a nearby bench. “I wish to make arrangements for our dinner. Perhaps you should sit here and rest.”
“Oh no,” she protested, shaking her untamed flaming red curls that surrounded her ivory face like a halo. “Right over there, I see some gift shops,” she told him, pointing unobtrusively. “I wanted to bring home a few things for everyone, and nothing in the other shops …” She shrugged, letting her sentence trail off. “Nothing in the other shops spoke to me.” Maybe these other places will be less… expensive, too, she thought, biting her lip gently.
Everyone? He wondered. Will she bring him mementos from our honeymoon? The thought galled him until he reminded himself that such trivial things no longer mattered.
Katherine was his now, out of the reach of any man; in time, Nicholas would be nothing but a vague memory. He could not stop from watching her passage across the hotel as she entered a shop, her gleaming skin reflecting the kind light and her sensuous body moving sleekly across the floor. Shaking himself, he hurried to arrange for their table at the hotel’s finest restaurant before returning to her side.
He discovered upon rejoining his wife that her attention was focused not on gifts for others, but on a delicate diamond and ruby bracelet showcased in a shop window. Glancing at the piece in question, he found it unremarkable but it was obvious that the sparkling gems captivated Kat. She gazed at it with unspoken desire. “Ash . . . look,” she breathed. “It’s . . . it’s . . .” She stopped, unable to find the words.
At her flustered words, he glanced at her, his brow lifting upwards. “It’s charming,” he replied hesitantly, unsure of what to say. He would rather have chosen something for her that commanded more presence, with a touch of old world elegance. But if this trinket is what she desires . . . Briefly, he scanned the name of the shop before nodding, “Then you shall have it, my love.”
“What?”
Startled, Kat looked up into his smiling eyes. “Ash, no, it’s terribly expensive!” She tugged at his hand while he continued studying the piece. The more he examined it, the more he could see it gracing her wrist.
Chuckling, he looked down at his flustered bride. “I’ll speak with the concierge, and have it sent over later.”
“Ash . . .” Distressed, she stepped away. “You’ve already bought out half of the shops here . . . I really don’t think you should . . . I didn’t marry you for your money.”
His heart melted at her simple words. Oh my Katherine, you have no idea how your words please me. I will always treasure those words . . . and you.
None of his thoughts passed his lips as he escorted her away. “Now,” he announced, “we should dress for dinner. It is time that more of the world saw the beautiful woman that is my wife.”
Once they were in their suite, however, his first glimpse of her – in an elegant gown that he had insisted on purchasing earlier that day, had his mouth watering and his desire rising to the point that he briefly debated canceling their dinner reservations. He was more than pleased at the sight of the garment he had chosen for her. A lovely evening gown in black crepe, its bodice dipping into a v-shaped neckline that showed just gave a hint of her lovely breasts, underlining and accenting the beautiful curves of her body. Pleats fell from her shoulders to the center front while a gorgeous starburst spray of black sequins and jet decorated the shoulders and sleeves. A pretty full-length skirt showcased her shapely legs.
She looks perfect in anything she wears – she has no idea what a vision she truly is. It took some doing but he managed to tamp down his desire to a bearable level in order to escort her to dinner.
Entering the dining room, Kat couldn’t help but notice the envious looks from other women, while men gazed at her with more than a hint of appreciation. Their attention was so different from what she was accustomed to at the club that she found it unnerving, her hand clasping Ashton’s arm tightly. “Why are they staring?” she whispered as they were escorted to their table.
“Because mon amour, they are all taken with your beauty. It is nothing to fret over.”
Pleased with his words, she glanced at the menu, astounded by the choices. Looking up, she caught the questioning look in her husband’s eyes.
“If the menu does not please you, ma belle, there are many other places that we can go.”
Shaking her head, her voice held a hint of embarrassment, “there is so much to choose from. I don’t know where to start.” Reaching for his hand, she paused, a smile dimpling her mouth. “Would you . . . could you order for both of us? After all,” she added with a coquettish tilt of her head, “who should know me better than my husband?”
Her words made his soul sing. She was beginning to trust his judgment, not just in the bedroom but also in the little things that truly made them a couple, little moments that only the two of them would share. Things that Nicholas had never taken the time to learn, not caring about the jewel he had so blithely given away.
Ashton did care, and now that Katherine was his and would be forever, he would show her in every way that she had chosen the right man. Smiling, he snapped his fingers, a waiter immediately appearing at their table, eager to take their order.
Watching with admiration, Kat was impressed by the ease Ashton navigated the menu. It was only when the entrée arrived that a delicate shudder crossed her shoulders. “Ash . . . those look like snails! We’re supposed to eat them?”
Chuckling, he swirled the delicacy in liquid butter. “Ah, ma belle, this is one of those compromises of which we spoke before. I did not know one was ever allowed to consume sausages wrapped in fried dough, remember?” He smiled at her laugh as she remembered the expression he had worn on his introduction to corn dogs. “Now,” he said easily, “it is your turn to try something new. Come, try just one
bite, and if you dislike it, I will never order it for you again. After all,” he added easily, “did you not just say that of all men, I should know you better than anyone? How can I know if you do not try?” His smile was warm and coaxing as he placed the tiny fork near her lips. “Come, I shall feed it to you. You may even close your eyes so as to not to see what you are trying.”
Despite her obvious reluctance, she nodded, and Ashton’s heart leapt happily in his chest as she leaned over even while the rest of him jolted at the sight of the shadow of her breasts. Briefly distracted, his hand wavered a little as he teased her lips until they parted as if waiting for a kiss. Accepting the bite delicately, her eyes remained closed, but between one taste and the next, they flew open wide. “Ash, this is wonderful!” She smiled before uttering a low moan of pleasure that brought him instantly to the brink of disgrace. “I don’t think that I’ve ever tasted anything so wonderful in my life!”
As she lifted sparkling eyes to his face, for once he was grateful for the drape of the tablecloth obscuring his lap. He was beginning to smile in response when her lips pursed in a pout. “Is there something the matter, my love?”
Her face brightened immediately. “No . . . it’s just unfortunate that this is only an appetizer. I think I could happily eat this forever.”
So much for the osso buco I chose for our main course, he thought with more amusement than regret. But if my wife wishes to make a meal of escargots, than that is what she will have. With an imperious gesture, he waived their waiter over once again, making the necessary changes to their order.
Oh, my Katherine, you have changed my world completely for the better.
As the days passed, Ash was delighted to re-experience the world through Kat’s eyes. He explored this realm that had been his birthright, guiding her, but also taking part, as if it were a novelty to him, also.
His favorite times by far, however, were those spent in their bedroom. Not that they made love all of the time, her body, so delicate in comparison to his, couldn’t have withstood it. There were, however, many ways to give and take pleasure, and he was a master of them all. They spent hours in the bath, lazily washing each other, exploring each other’s bodies, tasting and teasing. There were hours that she feasted on the warm skin, rippling muscles and silky dark hair that made up his body. More hours were spent where she lay spread on a rug while he rubbed her down with scented oils, making playful comparisons of her to a mare that had been ridden too hard. There were many hours where she was too languid to move, convinced that he couldn’t possibly arouse her again; yet she could be excited to a fever pitch in a heartbeat from a mere green-gold flick of his eyes from beneath dusky lashes and slanted brows.
In that time, Kat felt as if they existed in a place out of time, living in a fairytale where nothing mattered but the moment, and those moments were so exquisite that everything else seemed inconsequential. With each passing day, Ash became increasingly convinced that Nicholas was nothing more than an echo in her past. An echo that he was determined would fade with time.
Then one day, the fairytale came crashing to a halt.
After a lazy day of rolling in their sumptuous bed, Ash had taken Kat out for dinner and dancing. In the last few days, Kat’s appetite had become increasingly delicate, a fact that had not gone unnoticed by her husband. On their last night, Ashton had forgone the escargot, arranging for a quiet, light dinner by the ocean-side, complete with musicians for the occasion.
The evening sky was filled with stars, the soft sound of waves lapping along the shore setting the mood perfectly. Drawing Katherine into his arms, he led her onto a wooden dance floor, his eyes warm and loving as they moved slowly to the music. Then came that cursed song, considered her trademark in Nicholas’ damned club. Her voice sounded softly in his ears as they danced, Ashton’s blood boiling to think that it was the very same song to which she had once danced with Nicholas.
The cocaine that he had added earlier to his champagne as a seduction aid flared in his bloodstream, fueling his anger to unreasonable heights.
Nicholas! Always Nicholas. Why must that man haunt me so? Why? I have given her everything, and still it is to HIM that her mind and soul returns. YOU ARE MINE, Katherine Montserrat, and heaven help you if you ever forget it!
He didn’t hear his own snarled curse or care that they were suddenly the focus of attention by the musicians as they fell silent. The prettily capped sleeves of Katherine’s dress now hung like orphaned puppies, torn to shreds beneath his harsh fingers. All he could see – all that he could remember – was how he had once watched Katherine in Nicholas’ arms, knowing, as he had then, that such a dance had only been an interlude to a rousing bout in bed.
And when you tumble into our bed, do you think of him? Is it his name that you bite your lips against calling as you come against my body? He didn’t think that he could bear the thought.
Well, he thought grimly, if I can’t erase him from her memory, then the least I can do is replace those memories with ones that she will never forget. Ignoring her gasps of pain as his fingers dug deeper into the tender flesh of her arms, Ashton dragged her over the beach, across the elegant foyer and past the startled looks of the bellhops and elevator operator who took them to their floor.
Slamming the door on all of it, he turned on her, his eyes glittering dangerously, even more when he caught the sight of surprised hurt in her green eyes.
“It isn’t enough, is it?” he snarled as he flung her roughly across the bed, desperately hiking up her tattered skirt, his nails snagging at her delicate garters. “No matter how much I give you or show you, it is still not enough. Nicholas . . . he’s always in the back of your mind. I wonder if he shares our bed. Is it his face you see even when it is my name that you call out in ecstasy?”
She pleaded at him as he tore at her clothes, vainly pushing at him with her trembling hands. Kat had learned that sex could be exciting, even a bit dangerous, but never had she known the brutality she was experiencing at Ashton’s hands. Delicate laces were torn from her even as he ripped at his trousers, buttons flying as his evident arousal burst forth. Pinning her hands brutally to her side, the scent of champagne on his breath and the fury in his eyes made her tremble in terror.
Ashton bared his teeth in a terrible smile when she struggled to be free. “No, not tonight. Tonight you will learn, my Katherine, that I can take as much as I can give. What is mine is always mine. Always remember that.”
Deliberately, he pushed her legs wide apart, staring for a moment, his eyes glazed at the sight of her vulnerability. He didn’t hear her voice begging for him to stop, or feel her hands pushing helplessly at his chest. Dragging her beneath him, he slammed his hands down on her shoulders, pinning her to the bed even as his plundering body tore the delicate skin hiding between her thighs. Ignoring her cries of pain, he ravaged her body, emptying his seed deeply within her before allowing her the luxury of moving from beneath his collapsed body.
She lay helplessly for several moments, unwilling to believe the reality that now lay next to her. Her body felt as he had torn it to shreds as she felt the bruises beginning to form. When she thought it safe, she shifted away, carefully moving to the side of the bed, only to feel his hand lash out to grab at her once more. “Do you honestly believe that I am finished with you?”
She didn’t dignify him with a reply, although several thoughts came furiously to her mind. Pulling back the silken sheet that barely covered them, the tattered rag of her skirt drifted to the floor as her thighs displayed the mockery of what had once been smooth skin. She looked into his face, permitting him to see the mottling bruises forming on her thighs, sticky with semen and blood. “I was going,” she replied through choked tears, “to clean up. Do I need your consent to use the facilities, or shall I just spread my legs and wait for round two?”
He would never know what shocked him more: the sight of his own brutality so clear for him to see, or the coarse language that fell from her lips. Turni
ng his head, he felt her leave their bed, shutting and locking the bathroom door behind her. In the past, her sense of modesty had always amused him; she had always been meticulous about shutting herself in any bathing chamber. Yet now, he wondered if she was locking him away not only out of a need for privacy, but out of her heart as well.
What had he done?
Why had he used that cursed powder when he knew he could please both of them without its assistance? If he had lost her, how would he ever win her back? Tonight, he had crushed her heart as well as her trust. Had he just given Katherine back to Nicholas as carelessly as he had once stolen her from him?
Hearing the sound of running water, Ash rolled a pillow behind his head, attempting to shut out the sound of her wrenching sobs. His new wedding ring snagged at the lace of his pillow, and his eyes were immediately drawn to the way the light gleamed over the gold band, which encircled his finger. It reminded him of the vows he had so recently taken at her side. Carefully, he reached under the bed for the familiar silver tray, his shaking finger dipping in a generous amount.
In the morning, I will win her back, just as I have before. After all, a man with my resources has to have more than one ace up his sleeve.
Kat spent hours in the bath, scrubbing until her skin was raw, her thighs aching masses of bruises. That pain, she found, however, could not compare to her sense of betrayal or the agony she felt at the destruction of the fledgling belief she had for the man she had married. It had been crushed under her husband’s hands. It was something she had never, never known with Nick.
Nick.
Her heart cried out for him, wondering if, for one brief moment, what might have been if he had only spoken up at her wedding, if he had simply reached out for her instead of allowing her to become another man’s wife. He had let her go, as he always had, and now she was married to a man whose moods were as mercurial as the water that surrounded this elegant hotel.