Feeling White

by Charlotte E Hart

  “Mmm.” And that’s not really helping either.

  “I’m sorry if you feel deceived. I didn’t mean to. It just sort of all happened and I didn’t want to see her hurt by him, mentally that is, or physically either.”

  He’s still standing there looking at me, not a flicker of anything crossing his features. Belle wanders back towards us and smiles.

  “He’s calling Clastro’s and will meet us there in twenty minutes. I’ve let Teresa know and she’s not coming. Well, not with us anyway,” she says as she smirks wickedly then flicks her eyes between the two of us. A second or two more of impassivity at me and then his enigmatic smile is back in place as he turns to her and gestures to the door, letting go of my hand as he goes. FUCK!

  I catch up with them and search for any sign that this is okay and it doesn’t matter to him, but he’s not giving me an inch of anything. I have no idea whether he’s angry or hurt or some other emotion that he’s masking with that business smile. Belle slides into the back of the Bentley as Andrews holds the door open for us.

  “Alex, are you okay? I really am sorry,” I ask hesitantly. He looks down at me for a moment and then dips his head and kisses me on the forehead.

  “We’ll deal with it later, baby.” Well, I got a baby in response so it can’t be too bad, can it?

  I smile back at him and then scoot myself into the car, hoping that he’ll just relax and not drift away into whatever distant place he goes off to when he feels... whatever it is that he’s currently feeling. I still haven’t got a clue. I look back up to him to see his now pursed lips twitch at something as he stares at me with a slight frown for a second longer and then closes the door on me.

  Well this will be a nice lunch, won’t it? And an even nicer conversation later.

  Yep, can’t wait for that.

  Shit.

  Chapter 24

  Alexander

  T wo more fucking meetings later and he was almost ready for what was coming.

  An hour’s discussion via conference call with the Chinese was certainly enough to stir his blood up to boiling point but at least they seemed to be getting on well with Tom Brindley, which had taken the heat off the conversation a little. It appeared the man was completely competent in the art of steering a happy direction out of something that was beginning to turn nasty. If it wasn’t for his irritating mentor, he might have been able to manage it himself but he couldn’t get Pascal out of his head. He’d actually spent most of the conversation trying to come to terms with what he was about to do. In all honesty, he still wasn’t sure if he was actually comfortable with it but it needed to be done. The man needed to know who was in control.

  It wasn’t him, or her.

  Unfortunately, he’d also had to deal with Aiden Phillips this afternoon, who, to his credit, looked every bit the businessman as he sauntered into the restaurant and smiled. It even felt genuine to a degree. That Saville Row suit didn’t quite sit as comfortably on his shoulders as it would on a man who actually traded in legitimate dealings, but he done a fine job of trying to pull it off. It wasn’t hard to see why he’d done so well for himself in such a nasty little underworld. Not only was he a handsome fucker with his rugged devil may care appearance, but he had brains as sharp as a knife. Always had. So sitting with him in the Ivy had both attracted undivided attention and forced the lesser people to scurry away and hide in fear. The conversation had been pleasant and quite agreeable in a random, threatening type of way, but it had delivered the information he was after and thankfully given him some much needed backing if the time came. He hoped to hell he wouldn’t need it, but he was grateful for the support nonetheless given the potential war that was coming.

  Ben Livingston was a traitor to his own kind. He’d been dismissed for drug addiction, ironic enough in itself, but then he’d done the stupidest thing possible and decided to join the opposing team. It seemed a bit of extra work on the side had led him to varyious avenues including odd jobs for some high profile clients in London, blackmail, extortion, the occasional hit. Although Aiden knew nothing definite, it wasn’t beyond the realms of reasonable doubt that he could easily be working for Henry. Whether he originally took the picture wasn’t provable but he trusted his instinct that it wasn’t Jacobs so that only left Livingston.

  He’d left the restaurant with a smile and bounce in his step. Things were coming together, albeit the favour he now owed AP was one that would loom over him for some time. When the man called in that favour, he’d have no choice but to honour it regardless of what it entailed. Aiden Phillips was a man of his word and when he said “atrociously” with regard to death, that’s exactly what he meant. He had a feeling the man enjoyed trying to taunt him back into his old world. Funnily enough, it didn’t hold the same appeal anymore. It was probably to do with the goddess that had recently enlightened him to the merits of right and wrong. He still didn’t deserve her respect or trust in him to do the right thing though. He’d just spent an hour giving a known criminal and drugs baron all kinds of help with regard to cleaning up his appearance and acting like a truly decent human being, front as it was.

  This was only emphasized by the fact that the damned parasitic paparazzi had been hovering all around them as they’d left. Two shots of handshaking had Aiden beaming with delight and grabbing his arm to prove what a changed man he was. He was a fucking liar; that’s what he was, no matter how many quotes he gave about fundraising and charitable ventures. Alex had returned the smile and shook his head when questioned on his relationship with AP, offering a smile and a wave of secrecy. It would be enough for the tabloids to offer AP support but hopefully not enough to condemn White Industries into the gutter.

  A meeting with Tate in which he’d lied his backside off to avoid giving away too many details, and then another forty minutes in his office discussing Andrews following Jacobs around for a while, just to see how honest the man was being, and he’d almost lost the will to live. Would his life always be this complicated? To be fair, it wasn’t dull and mundane anymore but for Christ’s sake, was there a chance he could just give this normal thing a chance?

  Before her, he’d been so bored but at this point, he’d kill for a bit of the normalcy she was offering, a bit of that elusive contentment she was hinting at and pulling him toward.

  And this thing with Pascal wasn’t helping. He presumed that whatever he was feeling with regard to the man was yet again another abnormal thing to contend with. What normal man would be interested in pleasuring her with another man’s hands. More importantly, why did he want it so much? Pascal was already proving how much of a game it was to him by interfering and teasing her. It was bad enough that he’d had to scoop her away from him in the first place but contacting her behind his back was just idiotic of the man.

  And how fucking dare he?

  Trying to manipulate his way in and get to Elizabeth by going for her friend… He’d known she’d never allow it and ask him not to go ahead with it, ask him to “do the right thing.” The bastard didn’t know the meaning of the statement. He had to admit it was clever of him - stupid, given that it was probably going to happen anyway but ingenious nonetheless. Well, he was going to get something now. It wouldn’t be what he was after but he’d definitely be getting it.

  When he’d eventually gotten home and found her asleep on the couch, he’d almost changed his mind. She’d looked so peaceful and beautiful lying there with her hair fanned out across the arm, in his home, her home. Christ, he wanted her there with him all the time. He missed her touch every minute it was away from him and rushed to get back to her. He’d never spent as much time in his house as he did now. How he was finding the time was beyond him. Before her, he was at the apartment all the time and in meetings or partying until the early hours. In fact, he should be getting back to New York and dealing with other matters that he’d left there but now it appeared that all he wanted was to be with her and continue thinking of all the things their future could hold. Perhaps he sho
uld take her with him. That would keep her safe and close to him, wouldn’t it?

  If he could just get this shit with Henry out of the way and this threatening crap to disappear, he’d make sure she knew how much he longed for that future. He’d make sure she knew exactly what he wanted for the rest of their lives and just how special she was.

  But instead of letting her rest, he’d decided to get this thing with Pascal finished with, or at least started. He really wasn’t sure which it was and wouldn’t be any the wiser until he saw her reaction to the situation and more importantly felt his own.

  So here he sat, watching the world go by in the dark and occasionally glancing over at her as Andrews drove them steadily towards Eden. Each corner in the road brought on another strange sense of discomfort or maybe it was just anticipation. He wasn’t entirely sure how to categorise it because he’d never felt it before. Every time he gazed across at her, his fists tightened a little in possessiveness, then her radiant smile would disable any anger that was beginning to build and pull the breath right out of his lungs again. She loved him. For whatever incomprehensible reason, she loved and cherished only him. He could see it in her eyes, in the way she let him hold her, fuck her, make love to her. He didn’t deserve it, not one little bit, but he wasn’t going to lose it and he damn well wasn’t going to let someone else ruin it.

  Her long legs uncrossed and then crossed again in that loose skirted sage dress as she pressed her lovely lips around her glass of Cognac and chatted about Belle and Conner at lunch yesterday, who had seemed a little at odds regardless of her over enthusiasm about all the computers being provided for her. He’d narrowed his eyes at Conner at the time but he’d shaken his head and said he’d call him later. Were they having problems already? Fuck, that was the shortest happy engagement he’d ever heard of.

  Her sudden bark of laughter pulled him back to the moment as her warm fingers patted his hand. “Alex?” She’d asked a question, obviously.

  “Yes,” he replied. It was a fifty-fifty shot at getting the answer right and he’d do anything for her anyway so it didn’t really matter.

  “Oh please, you can’t possibly tell me you’re one hundred percent happy about having all of them over for Christmas.” What? Who?

  “Well, I-”

  She cut him off. She had a knack of doing that. It was fucking wonderful so he smirked at her and leaned his head back on the cool leather.

  “You weren’t even listening were you?” she asked as she reached her hand over and brushed his jaw with that featherlight touch of hers that had him instantly yearning for more. “You look tired. We don’t have to go out for dinner. You should have said and we could have just stayed at home, had an omelette or something.” Fuck, that was tempting, but so was the other thing he was about to do, not that she had a clue what was about to happen.

  “I love you,” he said as he turned his lips into her hand and kissed her palm. Her skin smelt of honey and wild flowers, just as it always did, so he let the familiar fragrance envelop him and tried to bring some order to his chaotic thoughts.

  “I love you too,” she replied as that captivating glow crept across her cheeks and the car glided to a stop. He watched her glance out of the window and notice the black door with its embedded disk. Given that she’d been here before, she clearly knew exactly where she was. Her face shot back to his with an uncertain expression, her lips trembling a bit as she brought her thumb to them. He just stared at her as he continued to kiss her palm and hoped she’d be alright. She knew it was coming at some point anyway.

  “Umm, what are we doing here?” she asked as she composed herself, rested back into the seat and gazed into his eyes, almost accepting but just a little hesitant. She was right to be. He hadn’t got a fucking clue what he was doing. He just knew Pascal needed putting straight and this was the best way to do it.

  “I’m dealing with Pascal. I told you I would, and you pissed me off successfully,” he replied, dropping her hand and opening his door as Andrews appeared at hers. She’d asked for this in a roundabout way with her texting the other night. She probably didn’t expect this but the opportunity had presented itself so he’d use it to full effect.

  “Oh right,” she said as he rounded the car. Grabbing her hand, he walked towards the door and wrapped his arm around her waist to stop her before they reached it. He didn’t know what he wanted to say or how he wanted to say it, but she needed to know it regardless.

  “I need you to do exactly what you’re told when we’re with him. I need you to look into my eyes and do everything that I tell you with no other thought than what I want from you. Do you understand?”

  “I... I think so,” she replied shakily.

  “I want you to trust me to look after you because this is about us, not him.”

  Well, it was a little but she didn’t need to know that.

  “Okay, I always trust you,” she said as her face lit up with a relaxed smile, clearly suddenly understanding to some degree. He was glad at least one of them did.

  “I need to tell him something and this is the best way to do it, but if you don’t want his hands on you, this is the time to say so.” Her eyebrow arched beautifully. Apparently they didn’t need to discuss that bit. He supposed they had already had that conversation and at least she was admitting it now.

  “As long as you’re there… I want you to enjoy yourself, Alex. Whatever you want, remember?”

  Fuck, his cock twitched. That wasn’t entirely the point but that damned mysterious, sexy as hell smile of hers was beginning to make this game all the more fun. He’d never played Pascal like this before and she appeared to be completely on board, as if she knew exactly what was coming. Maybe she did. Her ability to read his mind was still perplexing.

  Placing a gentle kiss on her lips, he laced their fingers together again and knocked on the door. Ten seconds later it was opened by Hayley, who ushered them in with her head lowered and gestured towards the stairs. Clearly she was still cowering. It suited her. She should keep damn well doing it.

  “Where is he?” he called over his shoulder as they made their way along the corridor and into darkness.

  “He was in his office. I’m not sure where he is now,” she replied quietly as she walked off in the other direction.

  “Bitch. I didn’t like her last time I was here. She seems sneaky to me somehow,” her lovely voice snarled as she turned and sneered at the woman. He chuckled. Perception was yet another one of her many appealing assets.

  “She is. Why Pascal tolerates her is beyond me,” he replied as he cornered the stairs and towed her behind him, all the time listening to her heels clipping along the corridor in her telltale gait of long, elegant strides.

  “Because she’s beautiful, and apparently gives incredible head.”

  Her faux European accent almost made him burst out laughing as he watched her mimicking Pascal’s hand twirling. She was rather good at it. Instead, he shook his head and continued downwards, trying to rebuild the tension he needed for the oncoming fight. “I never came down here last time. What’s it like?”

  He hoped she never came at all. Frankly, anything could have happened in those five minutes they’d had alone together before he’d taken her from the bastard. It never took Pascal long to achieve anything, but with any luck, it would tonight.

  He turned to the left before reaching the entrance to the club and pulled her towards the office.

  “Do you remember the auction, when I told you to control yourself?” Her giggle and waggling eyebrows really didn’t help.

  “Of course. It’s not like I could forget any of it, is it? Why?”

  “Because I need that from you now. I want you to stay in control until I touch you, no matter what he does,” he replied as he ran his finger along her jaw and gazed into those honest eyes, the eyes he was about to turn as deviant as his own. “Can you do that for me, Elizabeth?”

  “Oh, umm... What are you planning? Because I don’t know if I ca
n do the hanging from the ceiling thing?” she asked, her soft hands resting on his forearms as if she might bolt at any moment. She might be right to, so he frowned at her as he considered what the fuck he was doing once more.

  “Can you control yourself, or can’t you?”

  He’d walk her straight back out the door if he had to. Well, right after he’d been in and punched the bastard in the face.

  “I think so,” she said as he watched her steel herself and find her sexy little smile again.

  Minx. She’d be fine. He turned for the door and reached for the handle. Her hand on his shoulder stopped him. “Alex, you will stay with me? You won’t... you know… go off into your own head or something, will you?” He smiled and brushed his fingers over her lips.

  “No, baby, I won’t leave you.” He watched her whole face soften as she moulded her body against him and nuzzled. Fuck, he loved that nuzzling thing. It really wasn’t helping harden him up though so he pushed her upright again and nodded at her. She fixed her dress and nodded back as she plastered on her mystifying smile. It was exactly what he needed, for her to perform.

  He opened the door and found Pascal sitting behind his large oak desk with his feet propped up on the table, looking thoroughly bored with a man he was talking to. Actually, he was reprimanding him about something of absolutely no fucking interest at all.

  “OUT!” he barked at the adolescent. The boy immediately dropped to his knees in front of Pascal, looking scared to death, and stared at the floor, new fodder obviously. His own angel calmly wandered over to the sofa in the corner and reclined her beautiful backside gracefully. He was instantly in awe of her performance, nonchalant and completely in control, seemingly not in the least bit bothered by his tone, though he’d felt her hand flinch in his before she let go.

  “Alexander, dear boy, how-”