Feeling White

by Charlotte E Hart

  “Thinking of classrooms,” I say as I bite into some of my bacon. His mouth twitches in amusement as he turns a page and peers over his frames at me, which causes immediate leg clamping to occur. Oh my god, the man’s an utter fiend, and I really have to go to work so I lower my eyes again in the hope of dispelling the very inappropriate visions that have arrived. “Are you tired? You said you only ever wear them when you’re tired.”

  “A little,” he replies as he begins demolishing his plate of food. “Are you still okay for Thursday night? And by the way, I assume you’re coming to Conner’s party with me on Saturday? ”

  “Oh shit, I’d forgotten about that. Yes of course, and yes Thursday’s fine. I’m intrigued,” I reply as I stand and take my plate over to the dishwasher while I mentally scan my wardrobe for something appropriate. I haven’t got anything but Belle more than likely has. Actually, I have all the stuff upstairs. I wander back to him and grab my bag off the back of the chair as he sips his coffee. “Do you mind if Michael takes me in? I need to get going.”

  “I’ll take you. Andrews is on holiday,” he says, dropping his paper. “Just give me two minutes.” He strides out of the kitchen and runs up the stairs. On holiday? I fiddle with my bracelet while I wait for him and smile at its glittering diamonds. I haven’t taken it off since he gave it to me again, not once. I shower with it and sleep in it. Where I go, it goes. I can’t help but grin at the meaning of it, and the fact that I’m that important to someone, to him. Of all the people on the planet, I never expected someone like Alexander White to see me as special in any way, and as I watch the diamonds glinting back at me. I wonder what it is that he sees in me.

  Two minutes later and he sweeps in, picks up some keys from the key rack and takes my hand as he leads me through the back of the kitchen. This is new. I have no idea where were going. Two corridors and several doors later, he’s pressing numbers into a keypad by the side of a steel door. It opens sideways with a swoosh of air and I damn near fall over as I look at the interior of what is, I assume, the garage. I look over the badges and know nothing about any of them. Yes, I can drive a fast car because of Henry’s incessant mania, but some of these look super fast. Ferrari, Lamborghini, McLaren, Range Rover, three bikes that I have no idea about. The Aston Martin is at the front and the Bentley sits in the corner, looking decidedly sober in comparison to the flashes of blue, red and white on the other cars.

  “Well that’s a lot of cars, Mr. White,” I say as I run my fingers across the smooth lines of what is apparently a McLaren.

  “They’re fast, and I do like my toys,” he says with a chuckle. “Which one do you want?”

  “I have no idea,” I reply, gazing on in astonishment while he fiddles with a lock box by the keypad. “What else do you have hiding in this house?” He chuckles again and throws some keys at me.

  “Lots of things. We’ll take the Aston. You can drive,” he says as he stands by the side of it with his hands in his pockets, looking thoroughly beautiful in his three-piece grey pinstripe suit. “I quite like you in charge of me.” I smirk at him and run over to it like a schoolgirl, not that we’ll be going anywhere fast at this time of day in London traffic, but maybe I can hurtle up the drive in style.

  ~

  Wednesday morning is what it promised to be: quiet, thank god. We’ve got no parties or dinners planned and so I get the day to potter around my kitchen and prepare for tomorrow afternoon’s Christmas ‘drinkie-poos’ at the Carrington house. That’s what Mrs Carrington calls the shindig that she holds every year. It will only be nibble type things so all I need to do is organise myself. All the ingredients are in the back ready and James is coming in tomorrow morning to help me before we need to be serving at lunchtime. I should be able to make it back to meet Alex at six-thirty as the party finishes at four and as long as traffic doesn’t hinder us, which it possibly will, we’ll be fine. However, with Christmas shopping starting in earnest, the streets are so hectic and the roads even more so that I’m potentially winging it as usual in the hope that all will be well. It reminds me that I haven’t bought a sodding thing yet, and what I’m going to get for Alex God only knows. What the bloody hell do you buy someone like him?

  The day rumbles along quietly and can’t help thinking about what happened on Monday. I felt fine on Tuesday morning, but talking with Belle about it last night seems to have brought the whole thing back to me with a vengeance. I was very nearly raped, in a toilet, drunk. If Alex hadn’t got there in time, I would be in a very different situation now - possibly in hospital, maybe even... No, I’m not thinking about that. I shudder at the thought and turn back to my vegetable preparation, slamming the knife down onto the chopping board with a loud clank. I need some self-defence lessons. I will not be in that situation again. Yes, I’d had a bit of throw your hands about defence when I was at school, but I couldn’t get away from that man. No matter how hard I tried, he completely overpowered me. I briefly wonder whether I should ask Alex to teach me and then quickly flick my thoughts to someone more professional. Not that Alex couldn’t teach me to kick butt very enthusiastically. He obviously has more venom than anyone I’ve ever seen but he’s too close to me. I need someone I’m happy to hit without feeling guilty about it. Actually, thinking about it, there’s been a few times I’ve desperately wanted to kick his butt. Perhaps he is the right choice after all.

  “Belle, who do we know that can teach self defence?” I ask as I round the corner into the office.

  “I don’t know anyone but I think Teresa took some lessons a few years ago,” she replies as she straightens her skirt and slips on her heels. “Right I’m off then. Is she still coming over tonight?”

  “Yes, she bloody well is. We haven’t had a good girly giggle for ages. You pair and your boyfriends have been decidedly neglectful,” Teresa shouts from the front. I don’t know how she hears everything but she always does.

  “Okay, I’ll see you both at about eight. I’ve just got to get this meeting with the Bauers out of the way then I’ll definitely be ready for a drink,” she says as she walks out the back door with a wave. I walk the other way to find Teresa. She’s closing down the shop and fiddling about with the flowers that arrived yesterday, from Conner this time, astonishingly. The combined smell of his lilies and Alex’s Roses that arrived today are, while wonderful, starting to overpower the shop somewhat. The idea of a deli come bakery is that you smell the food, not flowers.

  “Let’s take them home,” I suggest as I pick up the two vases and carry them into the back. I wrap them up in some greaseproof paper and hand a bunch to Teresa.

  “God, you two are bloody lucky - two incredibly hot, incredibly rich bachelors chasing your arses all over the place,” she says with her typical giggle.

  “I’m not sure that lucky is the right word, honey. Alex, for one, is hard bloody work, albeit totally worth it,” I reply with a wink as we walk out the front door and pull down the shutters.

  “How the hell are we supposed to carry these on the tube without killing them?” she says as she fumbles to find a comfortable holding position for the huge bunch of lilies and gardenias. I’m messing around with my pink and lemon roses while trying to lock up the padlocks.

  “I have no idea. Carefully?” I reply with a snigger as I start to walk up the street with her.

  The noise of London envelops us as we march our way ungracefully toward the tube station and try to avoid every oncoming person in case we attack them with our bouquets. We don’t talk that much. One never does at this time of day. It’s far more important to just look where you’re going, and the fact is that while I love London, the people are aggressive as hell at rush hour. They’re all so desperate to get home that they’ll happily knock you flying if they can get one step further in front of you. Give it an hour or so and they’ll change into beaming lights of joy and happiness but at the moment… well, just watch your step.

  Just as we’re about to descend the steps, I hear my name being called a
nd look around for the very familiar voice with a smile of delight plastered across my face. The door opens on a black limousine at the side of the road as that black cane knocks at the floor twice to get my attention. I turn to see Teresa open-mouthed gaping at the car and nudge her to follow me over. I poke my head inside to see him lounging with a glass of champagne and that disarmingly naughty grin of his.

  “Would you two lovely morsels like a carriage to somewhere?” he says as he lifts his flute to me. “There is more than enough room in here for a ménage a trois, my rose.” I smirk wildly at him and watch his green eyes rove over me.

  “Well thank you, kind sir,” I reply as I tug a blushing Teresa’s hand and step inside. He winks at me and then turns his intense stare to her as she seats herself in the corner as far away from him as she can and gazes out the window. Even I am a little puzzled at her sudden bizarre behaviour as she fiddles with Belle’s flowers. Never in my life have I known her to be anything but open, honest and relaxed.

  “Am I to presume she is afraid of me, Elizabeth?” he asks as the car pulls back into traffic. Her eyes instantly shoot to his and I watch her steel herself again. If there’s one thing she isn’t it’s scared. She grew up with four brothers, and while she’s nervous for some reason, she’s definitely not afraid. I watch her demeanour change to one of conflict and lift my eyebrows at her because I have no clue as to what she’s doing. I know she thinks he’s hot so why isn’t she doing the normal Teresa flirty thing? Even I can’t disagree with that because, frankly, he looks bloody good sat there in his probably Armani suit and light pink shirt, effortlessly looking like every woman’s fantasy. He’s not Alex. There’s something more ethereal about him, and he hasn’t got that raw, maybe damaged appeal that Alex holds so well but he absolutely has something I can’t get out of my system.

  “No, she’s damn well not afraid of you,” she suddenly spurts out quite assertively, bringing me back from my unfortunate lusting. I really need to get rid of that. His mouth immediately turns to a huge grin of mischief and I can’t stop the laugh that comes from my mouth.

  “Oh, my dear, you do keep exceptional company. What is her name?” I begin to open my mouth but she cuts me off before I get a chance.

  “If you want it, you’ll have to ask me directly, and nicely.” Okay, where the hell has this little spitfire come from? And what is she trying to achieve? I’m really not convinced this is the best way to deal with Mr. Van Der Braak at all. I continue watching the little floor show with amusement and a certain amount of trepidation. He’s never been anything but gentlemanly with me, well apart from the clear dominance thing, but I’ve seen his attitude towards others. I wouldn’t want to be on the wrong end of that cane any time soon.

  He stills for a moment as if trying to solve a conundrum. I’ve never seen him look hesitant before and it intrigues me. He reaches for my bouquet and snaps off a rose head before I think quickly enough to stop him and leans toward her.

  “May I?” he asks quietly as he hovers his hand by her face. She continues her glare without the slightest movement. He extends his arm and tucks the rose behind her ear. “I am not sure I need your name, little one. Your bite appears to be quite enough,” he says as he leans back again and gazes at her. She still hasn’t removed her eyes from him but her face has softened a little. She’s such a sucker for romance.

  “So, my rose, how are you? Is Alexander behaving himself?” he says as he continues his gaze at her. She eventually looks out of the window and effectively dismisses his attention. Is she trying to wind him up?

  “Good, Pascal, thank you and yes, although I would never ask him to behave himself too much,” I reply with a smile as he turns his elegant body to me. “How are you? What have you been up to?”

  “Bored, that is what I am. Life is deathly dull and underwhelming without the pair of you available for my entertainment,” he says with an exasperated sigh as he reaches for my hand and brings it to his lips. I smile with warmth at him and think back to last time we were together.

  “Well, perhaps it’s time for you to find that more meaningful thing we talked about, Pascal,” I reply as he strokes his hand over my bracelet and chuckles to himself.

  “Mmm, I am afraid I find that unacceptable, my dear. I am sure temptation will present itself soon enough but I must admit, my patience is wearing a little thin,” he says as the car pulls to a stop. “And now even you are taken from me again,” he says as he points his cane at our apartment. How on earth did we get here that quickly? Maybe the floorshow took longer than I thought. My eyes shoot back to his. How did he know where I lived?

  “How did you...?”

  “If something interests me, there is nothing I do not know, my dear.”

  Oh, right. I’m still not sure what I should think of his interest in me or my own in him, frankly, so I smirk at him and gather up my flowers in the hope of escaping those green eyes.

  “You should come over for dinner sometime. I’m sure Alex would enjoy it and I certainly would,” I say as a female driver opens the door. She’s gorgeous, not unexpectedly.

  “Thank you for the lift,” Teresa says abruptly as she steps out without even looking at him. He doesn’t acknowledge her in the slightest.

  “I’m afraid I have been banished from talking with you for the time being, my dear. He will need time to calm himself,” he replies with a sad smile. I hate it instantly and can’t stop my finger reaching forward and grazing over his lips. He stills completely and looks almost lost for a moment before grabbing my hand from his lips. I can’t believe Alex would do such a thing, would he? Maybe he would in this twilight world they appear to live in.

  “Well that didn’t stop you offering me a lift, did it? I’m sure you know your own mind, Pascal. This is the real world after all. And I’ll work on Alex. It appears he’s behaving like a child,” I say as I lean in to kiss his cheek. God, he smells good. He moves his head at the last second so my lips land on his and the warmth of them instantly reminds me of his apartment. I pull back quickly and his eyebrow quirks up, those emerald eyes twinkling again and his naughty smile returning. It’s much better, however, his licking of lips has me thinking very inappropriate thoughts again.

  “Go now, Elizabeth, before I forget my manners and drag you back in here. You know how I despise decency,” he says as he releases my hand with a final brush of his fingers. I grin at him and step out of the car. “And do give your little friend my number when she’s ready. She may be an interesting diversion for a while, until you’re ready for me, that is,” he continues with a chuckle as he slides back into the depths of the limousine.

  “Goodbye, Pascal,” I say quietly as the driver closes the door on him and snarls at me. I can’t contain my laughter at her as she wiggles her hips back to the driver’s door. Yes, he’s probably had her, but if she thinks he belongs to her she’s got another thing coming. I doubt the man will ever belong to anybody.

  I turn for the apartment and see Teresa standing at the entrance of the building wearing a smug, self-satisfied grin on her face.

  “Oh my God, what the hell came over you? Are you out of your mind?” I ask her in amazement, as we walk over to elevator. She grins stupidly at me and presses the button. “No seriously, Teresa, that’s Pascal you’re messing with.”

  “I know. Sensational, isn’t he? Always thought he was gorgeous,” she replies with a giggle as I unlock the door and we throw our bags to the floor. “Wine?” I nod at her and grab the glasses.

  “I don’t understand. If you like him, why did you act like a complete arse?” I have no idea what her plan is but it’s not one I would have considered. She wanders over to the sofa and deposits herself on it. Having put the flowers in two vases of water, I go to my usual chair and slump down.

  “Well, Beth, I wasn’t entirely honest about the last time I saw him. I actually spent the entire night salivating over him as I watched him use and dismiss at least fifteen women. They were all throwing themselves at him, a
s I’m sure you can imagine. It was quite humiliating for them really. I remember thinking then that if I ever got a chance to be within ten foot of him, I wouldn’t be like that in the slightest. A man like that needs something unattainable. I dare say that’s why you’re of such interest to him. He’s a very bad man and I absolutely want every mean inch of him, just for one night you understand,” she replies casually as she pours the wine and relaxes back. “I really do like this olive green colour you’ve got on the walls. Where did you get it from?”

  I gape at her in surprise. She said she didn’t like the bondage and pain thing. Well, she’ll be getting it from him. I can’t believe she’s even thinking about it if I’m honest and what’s more disturbing is the little nagging twinge of jealousy that’s winging its way over my skin. What the hell is that? And wall coverings? Really?

  “Jensons, it’s around the corner, and you do realise he’s kind of kinky? In fact, he’s all kinds of perverted apparently. I thought you said you weren’t into it?” I reply as my phone beeps in my pocket. I pull it out to scan the text.

  - Go to the front desk. I’ve left a present for you.

  Alex… Oh, a present. God, I hope it’s not one of his overly priced gifts. I wish he would just understand that and accept it. I’d be in a shack with him, well maybe not a shack, but certainly a normal kind of lifestyle. Normal, I giggle to myself as I make my way to the door because that word just doesn’t sit well with him at all.

  “Just got to get something, honey, back in a moment,” I say to Teresa as I shoot out the door and press the call button. What’s he left for me? I practically run across to the desk. The security guy looks at me with a smile.