“You would leave because of this?” My smile broadens again, knowing I’m finally in front of him. Knowing I have myself higher than his mind would have me placed. Quicker, smarter, ready to beat him at his manipulations and hold us together when he fails.
“No, not after those truths,” I reply, feeling my love for him increase ten-fold as his fingers tighten on my skin. He’s lost. For once he’s the one on the back foot. He’s scared, unsure of himself and worried about my resolve. He needn’t be. My resolve is what will make this work, no matter the distance, no matter the problem between us, and no matter the cause of that problem. My skin will be thicker than his. It will be stronger and more resilient, or at least as resilient. It will need to be if he wants it all from me. Because this is as simple as it gets for us. We will be. Together or not, distance or not, live together or not, we will still be. We will love in our own way, and as often as we choose. “You’ve given me everything now, haven’t you? That’s all we need.”
It is.
Chapter 18
He didn’t bother with the courtesy of knocking. The only thing he might be knocking was some sense into Alexander’s head. Again. His Rose was there, sprawled out on the bed covers, somewhat tempting with her fan of red locks tumbling rebelliously as she slept. However, the brute beside her was of more interest as he traced her spine with his fingers. Especially given the lack of clothing he appeared to be flaunting. The man didn’t open his eyes, nor did her move. He only smiled as he kissed her neck and tightened his fingers on her reddened skin.
He shook his head of the vision, too frustrated with the moment to do anything rational at all. A proclamation was the only thing he needed to do. He would do that and go before his cock weakened his resolve.
“Lilah has more of me than you,” he announced loudly into the horrific terracotta room, which definitely needed a stylist. That done, he spun on his heel and stormed back out of the room again, not entirely sure why he felt the need to declare it, but feeling enhanced for it nevertheless. The man was a monster for asking what he had of Lilah. The thought was preposterous. He himself had only been able to knock the bastard out with a steel spreader bar. What would Lilah be able to do under such circumstances? Moronic. Completely ludicrous. Unfortunately, since their bonding in the car yesterday, where the collaring had been rekindled with emotions of the damn heart involved again, he had little way of retaliating to such requests. Therefore, a slight jab was the only recourse he had. The thought of Lilah being more emotionally connected to him should annoy the arrogant son of a bitch sufficiently. Hmm. Tremendous. The man deserved it for his outlandish request.
Intriguingly sensational as it might be.
He swiped his hands over his suit and straightened his tie as he descended the stairs, searching for Claire as he did. Where were the pair of them? Lilah had been nowhere to be found when he awoke, and neither was Claire. Her bedroom was empty, the sheets neatly folded and her clothes still hanging in the wardrobe. The guard was nowhere to be seen either.
Giggling met his ears from somewhere in the distance and he swerved the bottom of the bannister to head towards the main dining room. There they were. He halted for a second to gaze upon Lilah. She seemed illuminated this morning. Her red dress clung tantalizingly to each and every curve, and her hair had been shaped again into its normal style, unlike the softened appearance it had held last night as he’d clung to her strength. It had been a somewhat cleansing experience. Debilitating maybe, but purgative nonetheless, exceptionally so as she’d offered all she ever would.
Claire leapt down from her seat, barrelling towards him at speed as she sprinted the length of the dining room.
“The eggs come from real hens,” she broadcast, holding one up to him and giggling some more. He took it from her and chuckled, picking her up at the same time and heading towards Lilah. “They do. We found them outside, didn’t we, Lilah? Didn’t we? Can we go riding today? I want to ride the horses. Lilah said it might be okay. Is it? Can we? Please?” He sighed.
“Not today,” he replied, wanting nothing more than to go riding with her as he kissed the top of her head. “Regrettably, I have things I need to attend to today.” Things like having Alexander do his job correctly and killing the bastard that was haunting their every step. “Perhaps on the morrow, hmm?”
“I don’t think Mama can ride. She never talked about horses.” She could. She rode well. Superbly so when chased. Perhaps that was a memory she chose to ignore, though. He certainly did most of the time. He gently placed Claire back into the chair and considered what to do about Lucinda, once more questioning the morality behind simply getting rid of her, too. Lilah stared at him, burrowing her way into his thoughts and shaking her head a little, as she flicked her eyes to Claire. Hmm.
“We’ll try riding later, Claire,” she said, smiling at her and then looking back at him as she rose from the table and took her coffee with her. Her hand landed on his shoulder as she made her way past him. “It’ll be over soon. We’ll find the right way onwards then, yes? The legal way.” There was little happening in the way of legalities today. Murder was not legal, unfortunately, even when it was morally correct. He caught her arm, halting her momentum, and gazed at her, sensing the judgement in her eyes regarding Lucinda and pondering what the correct route forwards was. She did not back down, nor divert her gaze. She stood taller and slowly pulled her arm from his grasp. “We do this right, Pascal. Together.” Hmm.
“You were faultlessness personified last night.” She still was as she stood there and shone a contempt filled glare at him. Stunning. Vivacious and bold in her ability to hold power over his senses, coerce them even.
“Well, I do try,” she replied, kissing him on the cheek then rubbing the crimson lipstick from his face. “I’m going out to the terrace to give you two a little time together before you leave. Spend it wisely.” With that, she left them alone. She walked away and left a gap in the room so large he longed for her to come back and replenish it. He turned back to Claire, watching her shovel scrambled eggs into her mouth and push toast around her plate.
“Are you finished?”
“Yep.” Yep? There were no p’s in the word yes. He scowled at the term and looked back at the door for inspiration on what to do next. They only had a few hours before they left for Rome. Jon was already at the Blegatti apartments, waiting to be killed as far as he was concerned. However, Alexander thought this imprudent. It appeared a drive into the countryside was needed. Killing was more entertaining when no one was around, apparently. Something that, for reasons unknown, he wasn’t most enamoured with the idea of at present. Not that he cared for Jon, more that the countryside was a beautiful place. One he had found himself thinking of more pleasantly of late. It was quiet and perfect, unencumbered by the city’s endless spiral of sin. Such things shouldn’t occur on unspoilt ground. They should be kept to back alleys and dark nights. The types of venues he’d happily dwelt within most of his life. Fields of green were for summer walking and lazy afternoons. For riding and surveying the grounds, not for death and dismal deeds. The matter preoccupied his thoughts, tingeing him with a sadness he wasn’t aware he was capable of.
“Should we take Lilah with us?” he asked, smiling as little fingers picked up a napkin and neatly dabbed at her mouth. “Wherever it is that we are going?”
“Yay, I love Lilah.” As did he, exceedingly so.
He smirked at Claire’s high spirits as she dismounted her chair again and started running in the direction of the terrace. It was as if she made him complete somehow, nullified the dark inside him. He chuckled at himself and followed her, pulling at his tie a little.
Calm returned to his mind as he stepped out into the fresh air and let the warmth of the sun radiate down on him. He smiled at the thought, wondering where his love of the dark had gone, or certainly from where this new love of the sun had arrived. He found himself wandering to the view of the lake, the same one where he had buried as much of his soul ins
ide Lilah as he could, and gazing outwards. Palming the very stone she had sat upon, he remembered the feel of her in his hold and breathed deeply. The air smelt as she did, like honey, sweet and full of untold promises. Love was becoming ever more appealing each time he envisioned it. The bite of teeth, the rapture of desperate moans, the groans, the feel of her tongue on his, the way she held him so securely within her grasp. He licked his lips, still tasting the salt of the tear she had managed to draw from him. Only Alexander had managed it before her. Never Lucinda. She had only managed pain and rotting flesh. But last night, he had given the one thing he had not given to any other person. Private thoughts. Thoughts of fear and disgust. Self-hatred, loathing. And yet she had still clung on, softly holding the words together and allowing them their moment. A stronger woman than Lilah would never be found. She had not flinched at the words nor uttered one sound other than love and admiration. It was a revolution for his soul.
“Are you okay?” she said behind him, her hand landing on his spine and rubbing gently.
“We’re going swimming!” Claire announced, ducking her head beneath his arm and looking out on the view with him. Were they? He looked at Lilah for clarification. She shrugged, as if she, too, were perplexed about what to do with a child of Claire’s age. He snorted and nodded his head at her. What a pair of parents they made.
“Run along then and get your suit,” he said, wondering if she had a bathing suit at all and questioning if she should be out in the open so obviously anyway. “I need to speak with Lilah for a moment.”
Her heels raced from them, her hair bobbing in time to her speed as he watched her leave. Such a precious thing. He ached to rid them all of the turmoil that was Jon. It ate at his innards, causing the hatred of overbearing humans to come racing back. Too many years he had been beneath someone who owned his fear and played with it. Claire would never fear anyone. She would thrive. And she would thrive in hands who would guide her correctly, nurture her magnificence and drive her onwards.
“I need your oath that you will care for her,” he said, the moment her small frame had left the terrace. He turned to Lilah, not knowing where the thought had come from but knowing, with acute clarity, that it was the right thing to say. “She must be your responsibility should today not go as planned.” Nothing changed on Lilah’s face.
“She has a mother, Alexander and Beth, Thomas even. You can’t ask that of me. I don’t have the legal power to take her from Roxanne. She has a family of her own and I’m not it.” She was. She was his family and therefore Claire’s. Never had he been closer to anyone. She consumed him like no other had before her.
“She needs you,” he said, pulling her waist towards him and holding her into his chest. “You know as well as I that Alexander is of no use in the rearing of children. Elizabeth will make those decisions for him as their time continues. And Thomas is but a child himself. It is you that she will require. Please, my love. Give me this promise.”
“She’s not mine to take, Pascal. I would if I could, but Roxanne…”
“Will be dead also if I am.”
The words may have stung the air around them, may have darkened the moment in the midst of the sunshine, but they were true. This was not a game. Jon would not rest if he was alive and well enough to cause damage. All would be killed in a chaos of moves, played by a master. She did not gasp, nor tremble. She did not even flinch as the sound of death echoed around them. She simply nodded, pulled herself away from his hold, and then turned back to the lake again.
“I’ll need money, and a safe place to run to. Where do you have?”
“There is already money in Claire’s account. I will leave access codes in the bedroom. You will also need Elizabeth’s help to get you on Alexander’s plane and to safety should anything happen to him. I will ensure this is in place.”
“Does she know what you’re doing today?” she asked quietly, seemingly disinterested in the answer. He snorted, amused by the thought of his Rose giving permission for such activities. “I’m not lying for you two anymore. I’ve lied enough.” She had indeed. “Still am doing.” The after-thought was whispered, enough so that he narrowly missed the misery in it. He should relieve her of some of those lies regardless of the repercussions of the truth, he supposed. Allow her freedom again.
“She has authorized the afternoon’s outing.” She rolled her eyes at him, likely amused with his Rose’s unending decency and honesty.
“Murder, you mean? That is what’s happening, I assume.” He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. She knew. She knew precisely what the objective of today was, and her slight stare of derision was unreasonable. “How exactly?” she pressed, turning her ass to sit on the wall and stretching her leg until it wrapped around his hip to draw him closer. “Will it be you or Alexander that does it?”
He narrowed his stare, suddenly unfathomably uneasy with the way the words tumbled from her so effortlessly. Her hand crept up his shirt as her other leg locked into place and her hands grabbed at his ass. “Knife? Gun? Will you strangle the life from him? Slash him open?” No, but Alexander might. “Do you have a change of clothes? I don’t want you returning covered in blood and scaring your little girl.” Hmm. It was a good point, not that he would be sullying his clothes with Jon’s blood anytime soon. She pulled his face down to her, drifting her lips by his cheek as she whispered into his ear. “Does it make you horny when you kill? Does the blood rush to your cock? Do you need to fuck after it? I bet Alexander does. All that aggression must be beyond frustrating.” He raised a brow at her mouth and what was coming out of it. “Maybe if you offer yourself up to him when he’s done, he’ll do it. Fuck you, that is.” Both brows shot upwards as she sank her teeth into his ear and twisted them around. Lilah, it seemed, was becoming entirely absorbed in herself. “I will if he won’t, but I’d say your chances were pretty good in that scenario.” A tempting thought indeed. However, this was not the time to be discussing such things. He gently extricated himself from her belligerent hold and stood back a little.
“Much as the permission is welcomed, my love. I am dubious of my safety at such a moment.”
“Safety? From you?” she spat out immediately, laughing and pushing his body further away so she could slide her heels down to the floor again. “I’d say safety is the last thing you want from that man in any situation.” He smirked at her, watching the way she wandered away without a care in the world and picked up her coffee cup, seemingly at ease with everything that was happening around them. Including Alexander.
“Do you not care for my safety?” She smiled and tapped the ceramic in her hand.
“I’m concerned with your well-being, Pascal, but safety isn’t necessarily part of that conundrum with you, is it? If you want safety, stay here and call the police,” she said, turning and licking her lips at him then raising the cup to her mouth and sipping until she’d had her fill. “From what I can see of you, though, the chase makes you excited, doesn’t it? As does Alexander. Combine the two and, well, I’d say that will be a fun afternoon for you.”
Hmm. Intelligent. Too intelligent for his liking sometimes. And all the more fucking glorious for it. He should fuck her now just to reward such talent. He took a step towards her, about to do just that with little other thought as his cock engaged.
“Anyway,” she said, shaking her head and backing away a few paces. “Claire. Where do I take her if it goes wrong?” Claire? In the midst of this heightened moment, she returned to Claire? Good lord, the woman was maddening. He shook his head of the ache circulating him and tried for cognitive thought on his daughter again instead.
“You take her to my father, and you remind him of his obligations to his son,” he eventually replied, following her over to the far side of the terrace and caging her into a corner before she got a chance to outmanoeuvre him.
“Okay.” She gazed outward again, this time overlooking the cliffs and closing her eyes to bask in the sun’s rays.
“And Lilah?”<
br />
“Mmm?”
“You tell him she is your daughter.” This was clearly enough to reawaken her confusion. Her eyes reopened slowly, refusing to acknowledge the comment in any other way. She didn’t look at him. She simply kept staring out to the cliffs. He pulled the diamond bracelet from his pocket, hoping she would put the damn thing on again if he compelled her hard enough into needing it. “He will recognise the branding. Also, the clasp is my family insignia. He should acknowledge it out of duty if nothing else.”
She did exactly as he expected. She reared away from him slightly, sneering at the bracelet and flicking her eyes between him and it. This caused irritation to not only bite at him, but to drill itself into his very soul. The thought disarmed him enough that he understood why instantly. He wanted her to wear it, was desperate for her to. Not for her and her safety, or Claire, but for him. He needed it. He needed the clarification, the acceptance. The belief that she would commit herself to him. Love him she might, hold him in his darkest moment she would, he knew that, but would she always be there and honour their bond? Her independence was becoming more exacting by the day. She was more veracious with that which she required now, more able to demand her needs. She grew less inclined to behave or capitulate to tutoring each time they were together, nearly overtaking his own insatiable appetite for dominance. She glowed brighter, shone. She could rival even Alexander with her intensity one day. Certainly Sabella.
“I need you to wear this, please.” They were the most honest words he had to give her. Simple words, sounded from the heart through lips of love. He smiled at her, adoring the way her mouth’s hard lines softened and her tapered eyes widened. “This,” he said, waving his arm behind him at the house and then pocketing his damned fingers again for daring his heart, “is all for you, my love. This is the fairytale you sought from me. Promise me you will remain within it, with me. I know not how to achieve it without you.”
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