Ivy Series Teacher Student Romance - Boxed Set: Romance Boxed Sets for Kindle Unlimited (Ivy Series - Teacher Student Romance Book 7)

by Suzy K Quinn

  Marc squeezes me extra tight. ‘You, Mrs Blackwell, need to be careful. Don’t forget, I have a length of rope in the suitcase and many pairs of handcuffs.’

  ‘Many pairs?’ I say. ‘I didn’t realise you were so well prepared.’

  ‘I was assuming you’d be disobedient,’ says Marc. ‘And I was right.’

  ‘Are you referring to my night out?’ I ask.

  ‘Among other things.’ Marc strokes my hair. ‘Nights out are forbidden from now on. Except with your husband.’

  ‘I hope you’re joking,’ I say, my voice firm.

  ‘I’m not,’ says Marc, equally firmly.

  ‘I’ll go out whenever I like,’ I tell him, looking up. ‘As long as Ivy is safe and well looked after.’

  ‘Very well.’ He looks down at me, eyes stern. ‘I’ll enjoy putting you in line afterwards.’

  80

  We spend the afternoon playing with Ivy in the swimming pool, while Nadia stalks around, making notes and shouting into her phone.

  After an especially long and swear-word ridden phone conversation, she slumps by the pool on a wooden lounger.

  ‘This is shit,’ she tells no one in particular. ‘All fucking day on the phone, and not one decent lead on a new Cassandra. Oh Jesus. I just hope we don’t lose too much money over this. Or the movie will suffer.’

  Marc, who’s swirling a delighted Ivy in the water, comes to the pool edge.

  ‘I have a good lead,’ he says. ‘And she can be available immediately.’

  ‘You do?’ Nadia’s eyes brighten. ‘Who?’

  ‘Denise Crompton,’ says Marc.

  ‘Denise Crompton?’ Nadia shakes her head. ‘Marc, have you read the script? This mother isn’t the nice, cuddly sort. Denise is totally wrong.’

  ‘She can act anything you put in front of her,’ Marc insists, bobbing Ivy up and down in the water.

  ‘But she looks wrong,’ says Nadia, coming to crouch at the water’s edge.

  ‘So change the script.’ Marc swishes Ivy in the water again. ‘Have the mother be supportive.’

  Nadia stares at him for a moment. ‘I suppose it could work. Let me think it over.’

  ‘I can have her flown in tonight,’ says Marc.

  ‘Tonight?’ Nadia’s eyes widen. ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Positive.’ Marc passes Ivy to me, and hauls himself out of the pool. ‘I’ll have a private jet organised and she’ll be here by sunset.’

  ‘Oh to hell with it,’ says Nadia. ‘Yes sure – we’ll change the script. Jesus Christ. I’ve been on the phone all day, and you sort out my problem in five seconds.’

  ‘You should have asked me in the first place.’ Marc grabs his phone from the sun lounger.

  ‘Sophia!’ Nadia kneels by the poolside. ‘Can you believe this man of yours?’

  ‘Was Cassandra very upset?’ I ask. ‘When she left?’

  Nadia glances back at Marc. ‘It doesn’t matter now. It was her own fault. If she was angry, well she’ll just have to get over it.’

  ‘So she was angry?’ I ask.

  ‘She was fucking furious,’ shouts a cameraman, who’s screwing together a tripod a few feet away. ‘Hell hath no fury. That’s what they say, isn’t it? And those venomous parting words … See you at the Riviera Film Festival …’

  A shiver goes through me.

  ‘Oh Cassandra will calm down,’ says Nadia, with a dismissive wave of her zebra-striped nails. ‘She’ll be in another movie within a week.’

  I notice Marc is frowning. ‘All the same, I’ve doubled security on set. I’ve had my share of vengeful women in the past.’

  ‘I’ll bet you have!’ Nadia laughs. ‘Keep them mean, keep them keen. Before Sophia came along, of course.’

  ‘Oh I can be pretty mean to Sophia too,’ says Marc, with a half smile.

  ‘I don’t want to know.’ Nadia stands on blue high heels. ‘Listen. I have the perfect idea. Let’s all have a champagne dinner tonight to celebrate Denise’s arrival. I’ll have some script writers come along too – we can work out the new character.’

  ‘Good idea,’ says Marc. ‘How about Caveau Vin?’

  ‘Caveau Vin?’ says Nadia. ‘We won’t get in there. No way.’

  ‘I can get us in.’ Marc gives a dismissive wave of his hand.

  ‘You can?’ Nadia is incredulous. ‘All of us?’

  Marc nods.

  Nadia claps her hands together. ‘Perfect! You’ve got an evening gown in all those suitcases of yours, right Sophia?’

  ‘Um … sort of. How fancy are we talking?’ I ask.

  ‘Well put it this way,’ says Nadia. ‘France has the best restaurants in the world. And this is the best restaurant in France. So … it’s fancy. It’s owned by a Swedish prince. I wouldn’t be surprised if we bump into some members of the royal family. And the food – oh my god! Like works of art. You hardly want to eat it, it looks so beautiful.’

  Marc frowns at me. ‘Stop worrying. You’ll be fine.’

  ‘It’s not the restaurant I’m worried about,’ I say. ‘See you at the Riviera Film Festival. What does that mean?’

  ‘Cassandra goes to Riviera every year,’ says Nadia. ‘That’s all. You don’t need to be worried. Security at the Riviera festival – wow. She’d never try anything stupid there.’

  81

  Later in the afternoon, I take Ivy for a walk around the grounds.

  The gardens are beautiful, with bright purple lavender bushes, swirling privet hedge labyrinths and perfectly clipped, conical-shaped fir trees.

  As I’m pushing the stroller back towards the main house, I see a limo crawling through the gates.

  It pulls to a stop, and Benjamin climbs out holding his straw hat on his head.

  ‘No Jen?’ I ask, pushing the stroller over gravel.

  ‘I was too late,’ he says, walking to meet me. ‘She was already on the plane.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I touch his wrist. ‘For going.’

  He shrugs, taking my hand and kissing the back of it. ‘Just something you wanted. So …’

  ‘Benjamin.’ I take my hand from his. ‘About what you said earlier. On the beach.’

  ‘Oh, that.’ He tilts his hat back, and I see hurt in his blue eyes. ‘It’s all right. I’m not going to do anything stupid. Make any other wild confessions. But just so you know, I’d do anything for you.’

  ‘Thank you. I … I don’t know what to say.’

  His eyes find mine. ‘Karma, huh? It’s a bitch. You don’t have any sisters or anything, do you?’

  I laugh. ‘No. Sadly not.’

  ‘Shame.’ He puts a hand on my shoulder. ‘Listen. It’s been good for me. This feeling. It’s taught me a few things. I’ll learn from it.’

  I nod. ‘Okay.’

  ‘This movie will be great.’ He plants a swift kiss on my cheek. ‘Stay perfect. And if Marc ever gives you a hard time, you know where to come.’ He gives me one last smile, then turns and walks towards the house.

  ‘We’re all out for dinner tonight,’ I call after him. ‘To meet Cassandra’s replacement. Can you make it?’

  He turns. ‘Marc too?’

  ‘Everyone.’

  ‘Thanks,’ he calls back. ‘I think I’ll skip it.’

  ‘This is a restaurant?’ I ask, as the limo drives Marc and I down a long gravel path, lined with tall, thin trees.

  Up ahead is a stately home kind-of-place, with perfect lawns and lavender bushes.

  ‘It was a royal holiday home, once upon a time,’ says Marc.

  The car pulls to a stop by an extremely grand winged building, and a suited man rushes to open our door.

  ‘Welcome, Mr and Mrs Blackwell,’ says the man, offering us a little bow. ‘Please come this way.’

  ‘Have you ever met the royal family before?’ I whisper to Marc, as I climb out of the car.

  ‘Once or twice.’ Marc helps me out.

  ‘Well which one is it? Once or twice?’ I step onto gravel.

  Marc
climbs out after me. ‘On several occasions. Ascot. Wimbledon. They’re charming. Good people. Extremely polite.’

  ‘I’ve never been anywhere like this.’ I look over the building. ‘What if I say the wrong thing? Or use the wrong fork or something?’

  ‘There is nothing you could do wrong,’ says Marc, taking my hand.

  ‘But royalty come here,’ I insist, still feeling nervous.

  He squeezes my fingers. ‘You’ll be fine.’

  82

  Marc and I are shown into a marble-floored ballroom, the walls hung with gold-framed oil paintings.

  We’re served canapés on swirling dry ice, and champagne from magnum bottles.

  ‘Where are the tables?’ I ask, accepting a fizzing glass of champagne.

  Marc points to golden doors up ahead. ‘Through there. Relax.’

  I nod, trying for a smile as a passing waiter offers me bright red triangles of caviar.

  ‘Um … thank you.’ I take a canapé, but my shaking hand drops it on the marble floor.

  ‘Oh my god. I’m so sorry.’ I take a nervous sip of champagne.

  ‘Not a problem, madam.’ The waiter rests his tray. ‘I’ll have it dealt with.’

  ‘Sophia, it’s okay.’ Marc squeezes my arm.

  ‘No it’s not.’ I gulp more champagne. ‘I’m dying of embarrassment.’

  ‘It’s fine. The waiters have seen worse.’ Marc takes my champagne glass. ‘Don’t drink so quick. Or you’ll be drunk.’

  ‘That’s the plan.’ I’m joking. Sort of.

  Marc frowns.

  ‘Where’s Nadia?’ I ask.

  ‘Late,’ says Marc, handing my half-empty glass to a passing waiter. ‘She’s always late.’

  ‘And what about Denise?’ I ask, looking around. ‘Shouldn’t she be here by now?’

  ‘She’ll be here soon,’ says Marc.

  Behind us, an orchestra begins a slow classical piece.

  ‘Mrs Blackwell?’ Marc takes my hand. ‘May I have this dance?’

  ‘Here?’ I say.

  ‘Of course, here. Where else were you thinking?’ Marc arranges my hands, positioning me in the right way.

  ‘How did you learn to dance?’ I ask, as he leads me around the room.

  ‘For a movie.’ He turns me quickly, catching me before I lose my footing. ‘The Divine Act. There was a ballroom scene.’

  ‘That scene was all of thirty seconds,’ I say, following his feet.

  ‘I’m dedicated to my craft.’

  ‘I like dancing with you,’ I whisper.

  Marc presses his cheek to mine. ‘I’ll let you into a secret. I like dancing with you too.’

  ‘It’s a secret, is it?’ I whisper back.

  ‘Yes. You know, this is a good tutoring opportunity. Don’t you think?’

  ‘Here?’ I ask.

  ‘Why not?’ Marc turns me again, and this time I follow his lead more gracefully.

  ‘Well, we’re in public for one,’ I say, enjoying the strength of his locked arms.

  ‘You may not have realised this, Sophia,’ says Marc. ‘But when the movie airs, it will be seen by millions of people.’

  ‘Marc, I really don’t think now is the time,’ I insist.

  ‘It’s the perfect time. Look at where we are.’ He leads me around the floor. ‘Do you remember your lines for the ballroom dancing scene?’

  ‘Of course.’ I try to keep my balance as I’m whirled around. ‘I’ve read them a hundred times.’

  ‘Good.’ Suddenly, Marc snaps into character. ‘I knew you’d be lousy. I had no idea you’d be this lousy.’

  I can’t help smiling. He’s so amazing – the way he transforms like this.

  The actress in me can’t help but play along. ‘I’m trying, okay?’ I pretend to lose my footing. ‘It’s my first time.’

  ‘Your first time?’ Marc shakes his head. ‘Try harder, princess.’

  ‘Just give me a chance.’

  Our feet move together, picking out the music.

  ‘Better,’ says Marc, leading me into another turn.

  We’re in perfect rhythm now, and Marc swirls me around the room.

  ‘Hey. Not too bad.’ Marc lifts me and drops me down. ‘What happened? You finally remembered there’s music playing?’

  ‘You’d know all about music, wouldn’t you?’ I say, hair swinging as he pulls me upright.

  ‘Meaning?’ His face is inches from mine.

  ‘Oh come on.’ I glare back at him. ‘Everyone on this ship has heard the rumours. About your family.’

  I steal myself, knowing that the script tells him to shake me and shout at me. But he doesn’t.

  ‘Marc?’ I say, as he whirls me around the dance floor.

  ‘I’m not going to shake you,’ he replies.

  ‘Because we’re in public?’ I ask.

  ‘No.’ He turns me again. ‘Because I’m not doing it.’

  ‘But it’s in the script,’ I insist, a little disorientated.

  ‘I don’t care.’ His arms lock tight, and he leads me around.

  ‘It’s part of the character.’

  ‘Call this my actor’s prerogative,’ says Marc. ‘A man should never shake a woman.’

  I laugh. ‘That’s a little hypocritical, don’t you think? Considering you had me handcuffed to the bed a few days ago.’

  ‘Different. Entirely different.’ He pulls my body to his, then pushes me away again. ‘That was consensual.’

  ‘Oh look – there’s Denise!’ I turn. ‘And Nadia.’

  Denise stands by the entrance, a huge fur coat around her shoulders, smiling softly at the beautiful room. Her fluffy, blonde-grey hair is short and lightly curled, and laughter lines crinkle her eyes.

  Nadia has an arm around Denise’s shoulder and is chattering away. She’s dressed in a black-sequinned fishtail gown, her bright-red nails gesturing around the room.

  ‘Sophia! Marc!’ Nadia waves at us, accepting a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. ‘Hey – you ready for dinner?’

  83

  Over poached fish, champagne and buttered vegetables, Nadia, Marc and I rewrite Denise’s script, covering her scenes with thick black pen.

  ‘You know,’ Nadia announces, as a mountain of spun-sugar profiteroles is set down, ‘I think we’re there. Now all we have to do is shoot the movie.’

  ‘You make it sound so easy,’ Denise laughs.

  ‘It will be easy.’ Nadia takes a long sip of chilled white wine. ‘You’ll see. The hard thing will be the Riviera Film Festival. I am so nervous about that night, I can’t even tell you.’

  ‘You? Nervous?’ Marc raises an eyebrow.

  ‘Oh yes. My god, I am so nervous. Best director? I’ve spent my life wanting that award. The Riviera Film Festival is what I live for.’

  ‘You have a good chance,’ says Marc. ‘You know you do.’

  ‘A good chance isn’t the same as winning,’ Nadia points out.

  ‘You never know how those judges make their choices,’ says Marc. ‘It’s a lottery. Don’t invest yourself too heavily in it.’

  ‘Okay for you to say,’ Nadia snorts. ‘You’ve already won best actor at the Riviera.’

  ‘And it means nothing to me,’ says Marc. ‘The only thing that matters is what the audience thinks.’

  ‘Don’t remind me,’ Nadia moans. ‘We have them to please as well.’

  With Cassandra gone, filming goes smoothly. The villa scenes are shot within a few weeks, and then we move back onto the cruise ship to finish filming there.

  Often, the ship takes us out to sea. I love those days when we can see nothing but ocean and sky.

  Benjamin is courteous and professional – much to Nadia’s surprise.

  ‘I don’t know what’s happened to him,’ she confides in me. ‘This isn’t the Benjamin I know. Here he is, a little pussycat. Have you been spiking his drinks or something?’

  ‘Maybe he’s just grown up a bit,’ I decide.

  In the end, I reall
y enjoy the scenes I shoot with Benjamin. We’re friends. Good friends. And I respect that he keeps his word and doesn’t try for more.

  Leo is a shadow of himself, barely socialising and refusing all offers of company.

  I know he’s tried to call Jen a hundred times. And I also know she won’t answer him.

  One day after lunch, I find Leo at the third-deck cocktail bar looking out to sea.

  There are four empty beer bottles on the table, and he’s halfway through a fifth.

  ‘You didn’t fancy joining us for lunch?’ I ask.

  Leo gives a humourless laugh. ‘Not much in the mood for socialising.’

  ‘You’re not okay, are you?’ I offer.

  ‘Probably never will be again,’ he says, picking at a beer bottle label. ‘Why did I have to be such an idiot, huh?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ I take a seat opposite him. ‘You tell me.’

  ‘Where’s Rocky?’ Leo asks.

  ‘In our suite. Working.’

  ‘Quite a right hook Marc has.’ Leo stares out to sea. ‘I’m not trying to make excuses. Jen’s amazing, but … she can be a real force. I just wanted to feel … like a man, I guess.’

  ‘She certainly knows what she wants,’ I admit.

  Leo takes a long gulp of beer. ‘I mean, Cassandra was into some kinky shit. It got pretty weird. But … I liked being in charge for a change. Look, don’t tell Jen this, but I sort of needed it. With Jen, everything I did was wrong.’

  ‘Why didn’t you just talk to Jen?’ I say.

  ‘Have you ever tried talking to Jen?’

  I lean forward. ‘Oh she’s not so scary. Once you get to know her.’

  ‘Will she ever take me back?’ Leo asks, sad eyes finding mine.

  I let out a long breath. ‘Um …’

  No.

  Leo takes another gulp of beer. ‘Let’s change the subject. So. You all ready for the Riviera Film Festival?’

  ‘Not at all,’ I say. ‘I don’t even have a dress. Marc is taking me shopping before we leave.’

  ‘I never had you as a dressed up sort of girl,’ says Leo, waving at a waiter and pointing to his beer bottle.

  ‘I’m not really,’ I say. ‘But … it’s the Riviera Film Festival, you know? It’s special.’

  ‘Well I hope Marc picks you out a good dress. I’m sure you’ll look beautiful.’