Whisper (The Voice trilogy Book 1)

by Noelle Bodhaine

  The rest of us get dressed and we share a toast to Olivia and Matthew before Kylie excuses herself to check the details. I am glad that I am not the Maid of Honor. Olivia was worried that she hurt me when she didn’t ask, but I know it is for the best. I do not have the time or capital to be a proper Maid of Honor at a wedding of this caliber. I am just glad to be here, sharing her wedding day. I watch her primp, as her mother fusses over every detail of her delicate dress when a soft rap on the door catches us all by surprise.

  Rhys enters the room and all logic and reason goes out. Giddy like a school girl, I jump for joy silently and grin, like an idiot. He wears a tuxedo like he was born for it. He is perfect, comfortable, self- possessed, a gripping combination of elegance, sex and power wrapped in Armani crepe. Watching him cross the room and engage every woman like a true gentleman is mesmerizing. His eyes dance at the sight of Olivia in her dress and he compliments her as he hands her a small black box.

  “A gift from Matthew, something new,” he offers, pulling a velvet pouch from his pocket. “And this is from me, something blue.” He grins at her, innocent and genuine. “You look beautiful, Matthew is very lucky.” She smiles and he kisses her cheek. She opens the box to find an Art-Deco diamond and pale blue sapphire bracelet. Rhys helps her secure it on her wrist and then opens the pouch, dropping the contents into Olivia’s open hands, two delicate diamond and sapphire drop earrings, set in the same fashion of the bracelet. The blue of the sapphires mirrors her clear blue eyes and are the crowning touch. She glows from within while her newly acquired decorations sparkle. She starts to tear up and pushes Rhys away like a brother, admonishing him for jeopardizing her perfect makeup.

  He turns his attention to me, and I nearly melt. The force of his gaze is enough to knock me off of my feet. He licks his bottom lip and brushes my cheek.

  “You look lovely,” he whispers with a warm smile, running his thumb along my mouth. I part my lips and nip at the pad. I don’t recognize myself. I am brazen and bold, but I cannot stop myself. He makes it so easy, oozing sex and control. It would be a crime not to revel in every last drop of his sexual prowess. And he reads my mind without difficulty. That beautiful crooked grin raises the corner of his mouth and he winks.

  “Tonight,” he murmurs before he gently kisses the back of my hands and turns to leave. As he makes his way to the door Melissa emerges from the bathroom. Rhys turns to her and she shoots me a look of triumph. My heart sinks watching him whisper something to her that first elicits an unnerving smile. She watches me, hoping for a reaction as he shares an intimate moment with her in front of me. But, her wide smile quickly falls and her eyes fall away as he wraps it up. He backs away from her, locks her in his eyes and nods, as if asking if she understood. She drops her gaze to the ground and nods in response, before returning to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. That is the second time I have seen him shut her down. It is as if he has some power over her; power she seems eager to surrender. I try not to focus on her, or their odd relationship. He has made it clear that he wants to be with me, here and now. It is temporary anyhow, so why think too hard. Just lie back and enjoy the ride.

  “Rhys, wait,” Olivia calls to him as she pulls a small package from her luggage. Wrapped in gold foil paper and tied with a large tartan bow, her gift to Matthew. “Please tell Matthew that I cannot wait to be his wife,” she tells Rhys handing him the package. He turns to me and winks before taking his leave.

  ***

  Everything about the wedding was flawless. The low hanging wisteria created a breathtaking canopy over Olivia as she walked down the aisle. The ocean breeze gently released tiny blossoms as she moved towards Matthew, showering her with thousands of tiny flower petals. Each time I glanced across the aisle, my eyes were dazzled by a Rhys’ crooked grin. I could feel him watching me as I stood behind Kylie and Olivia, Melissa hovering behind me, his eyes daring me to look, roping me in, trying to tangle me up. Every glance felt intimate, private. Reminding me of last night, and the promise he made in the car.

  After the ceremony there were cocktails on the pool deck, pictures with the photographer and a private moment for Matthew and Olivia. We were all led into the opulent dining room for a formal sit down dinner and dancing. All night I have been sitting next to Melissa, yet she has not said one word or even looked in my direction. I watch her walk out towards the powder room and decide to follow her, unwilling to let her unwarranted judgment of me go unchecked. I duck into the powder room after her and shut the door quietly behind me. Following her to the vanity, I know she is aware of me, but she acts like she is alone.

  “Melissa.” I try my best to remain calm and fill my tone with an undeniable power, but it just comes across as weak and unsure. “What is your problem?” She flashes her fiery eyes at me, a wide grin spreading slowly across her sour face.

  “You have no idea what you are in for do you?” She turns on me, a shifty fire in her eyes. “Whatever you think is happening with Rhys is sadly temporary you know that right? You will never have him, no one can have him. He is unavailable, unreachable.” She moves to the mirror, gazing at her reflection with a perverse admiration. “And you better hope that you are not around when she shows up, and she will show up, she is already here. She will make you wish you had never laid eyes on our beautiful Rhys Slate.” She finishes her speech with a swipe of fresh lipstick and a quick pop of her fiercely red lips. Turning away from the mirror, she faces me, humor, pity and something else seeping from every over done pore. “You are way out of your league.” She chuckles to herself and continues. “You think he likes you? You think you are any different from the rest of us? He just wants to tie you down and fuck you. That’s what he does. He will take a piece of you for himself. You were an easy mark. I’m surprised you have lasted this long, must be some kind of record.” She doesn’t wait for a response; my fallen face says it all, while pleasure paints her gloriously triumphant. “He is playing with you and you don’t even know it. You are nothing, just a number. ” The triumph of her tone stings, she shakes her head and laughs. “He has never loved anyone but himself, and that twisted bitch Nadja.” Reaching around me she pulls the door open, stepping into the hall.

  “What are you talking about?” A wicked smile paints Melissa’s face while she watches the dawn rise behind my eyes.

  “Yeah, welcome to the club.” With a wave of her hand, she disappears around the corner leaving me reeling. Her laughter lingers long after she leaves the room. I am stuck in front of the mirror, trapped again with a girl left out of the loop. I gather my emotional strength, put on a happy face and return to the reception. I wander around the perimeter of the room, watching couples dance and laugh. I catch Melissa’s eyes while she writhes against Wes on the dance floor. She looks me dead in the eye with a wicked grin and I will her to combust, on the spot. Right there on the dance floor in front of everyone, I will her to burst into flames.

  Leaning on my fingertips, I push on the receiving table and feel my mood sink and anger rise, coursing through my veins. What the fuck have I gotten myself into? I close my eyes, fighting back angry tears. Pulling in a deep breath, willing myself to calm I feel a warm breath on the nape of my neck. A shudder runs down my spine as a strong finger traces the line of my shoulder.

  “I would like a dance with the most beautiful woman here.” Rhys. His whisper like silk and sandpaper against my already assaulted nerves. Turning on him with fire in my eyes, bile rising in my throat, I push him away.

  “Leave me alone, Rhys.” I wave my hands around, emotion dripping from my fingertips, losing any grip on my emotions. “Stop toying with me.” Rhys’ face falls, hurt briefly passing before his crystal clear eyes. My head is swimming, his proximity pulling me under. I push past him, his solid form offering no resistance and he follows me quietly out of the room, his energy pulling at me like an anchor. I push through the double doors out of the lavish dining room, away from the party and into the darkened foyer. I sink into an antique fain
ting couch in the far corner, hiding my face in my trembling hands. A deep and painful sigh escapes my lips, my eyes taking in the sight of Rhys’ wingtips, polished and perfect. He stands in front of me, passively. I look up into his eager eyes to find them liquid, warm with concern.

  “Please, Rhys, don’t,” whispering my plea for mercy and reprieve. “I don’t want to play.”

  He moves around and takes a seat next to me, elbows propped up on his knees, his hands joined, fingers resting on his full lips. He turns his heavy gaze on me, unleashing the full power of his deep pain filled eyes. His chest falls as he exhales deeply, the side of his mouth pulled into a wicked grin that could melt the ice caps.

  “Oh, I haven’t begun to play with you, Sophie.” Looking up into his waiting emerald eyes I can’t hold back. The truth is undeniable. I am just a toy to him, a plaything that he will quickly tire of. How did I convince myself that I could handle this enigma? There are too many unknowns here to count, too many pitfalls to swallow me up. Yet he disarms me so easily, just a look and a slight grin is all it took. I ache as he caresses my cheek with the back of his fingers.

  “Why does that sound like a threat?” Caught, with his guard down, he clears his throat and wipes the playfulness from his face. I wait with baited breath for him to offer an answer, an explanation. He strokes his chin shaking his head.

  “I don’t know what you mean.” His mask so easily slides into place.

  “I just had a very enlightening conversation with Melissa, about your reputation.” He winces at the mere mention of her name.

  “Look at me,” he demands, tilting my face with a finger. “My past has nothing to do with you. We talked about this. I thought we were just having a bit of fun?” He uses my words against me. Every soft plane of his face reflects the truth, but Melissa’s elusive language and innuendo will not fade away. “I will deal with Melissa,” he declares. “And I do not want to hear another word about it. What we are doing is between us, no one else. Do you understand me?” He is done, closed the conversation without question. He winks and I cannot help but smile. He quiets all the chatter in my head. Every vile word Melissa said falls away. There is no one but us, and I like it, even though the idea is flawed.

  “That’s better, you are beautiful when you smile. Now, come. I want to dance.” He pulls me to my feet and leads me back to the reception and onto the dance floor. The crowd parts for him like the Red Sea. Once in the middle of the floor, he twirls me around, easily passing under his arm, he pulls me into his chest, his hand across the small of my back anchoring me to his rock hard form, controlling my every move. The band begins to play “Lover Lay Down.” A striking redhead with finger waves and an old fashioned satin sheath softly croons about spring’s sweet rhythm.

  Rhys is a skilled dancer, gracefully gliding us both across the floor. I am completely lost in the dance and the song. I look over and see Olivia and Matthew slowly swaying in one another’s arms, barely aware of another soul, so happy, so in love. Uninvited emotions bubble to the surface and I press my cheek to Rhys’ hard chest to stifle a sob and hide my face as he moves me to words of love and wanting. The emotions of a wedding, intense heart pounding lust, exhausting female gossip and the glamor of the whole scene is beginning to weigh heavily on my heart, and head. We move slowly to the music as a saxophone cries and launches into a lovelorn solo. Rhys lowers his head as the music begs and puts his lips to my ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down my spine. In unison with the breathy singer, he whispers in my ear “Oh…. Please..”, a question, a promise. The simple lyric shatters my resistance. He places his finger under my chin and raises my face to meet his. A single tear betrays my carefully contained façade. He casually wipes it away with the pad of his thumb and smiles warmly. Easily melting the last pockets of icy resistance I have tried to hide away.

  “Come.” He grabs my hand and leads me off of the dance floor while the saxophone laments. Leading me out of the dining room, he swings me around so we are face to face, bending down so we are nose to nose, and grips me with his eyes. “There is something I want to show you.”

  Chapter 11

  He leads me out into the yard where a swath of blush colored silk covers the perfectly manicured stone path, a brief storm having liberated dozens of wisteria blossoms, now scattered across the aisle, a fitting footpath. The weeping willows sway lazily above, while thousands of tiny wisteria petals dance towards the ground, floating and twirling in the gentle sea breeze. The moody canopy is draped in thousands of twinkling lights, softened by the tendrils of dripping moss. The view is breathtaking. Water still, like glass and alight with all the stars in the sky swimming languidly upon the surface. I am momentarily lost, all of the drama of the wedding slowly fading away, leaving only me, Rhys and the glassine sea. His warm hand on the small of my back pulls me from the moment, his pulse building to an exquisitely torturous pace as he leads me around a large breakwater, onto an expansive dock. Walking onto the planks my sight is overwhelmed by the sleek, gargantuan yacht in front of me. I have to pick my jaw up off the dock. I have never seen anything like it. Rhys is clearly pleased with my reaction, a huge grin slowly spreading across his perfect face.

  Pulling me into his powerful arms, he wraps me in his warmth and whispers. His moist lips against my ear, is almost too much to bear, “One amazing night.” The magnitude of my lust for this man is beyond anything I have ever experienced. My entire body changes the moment he touches me, molds to his will, bends to his whims. I feel all that I have been missing, in his caress. His touch is all knowing, familiar and eager.

  “Come.” His one word command is enough to get me moving as he takes my hand to lead me on board. He is excited and his energy is infectious. He is like a little child showing off his new toy, I’m just not sure I can give him the reaction he is hoping for. Being surrounded by all this wealth and opulence is polarizing. Never have I been around such wealth or excess. The deck is sleek and dark, lit only by dozens of candles that circle the banquette. Very little is illuminated, other than Rhys’ sparkling eyes. “Well?” he asks.

  “It is amazing. Is this all for Olivia and Matthew?” He huffs at the question, and creases his brow.

  “This is all for you.” He winds his fingers between mine, leading me quickly across the shadowy platform and down below deck. “I thought since this was our one night together that we could stay out here, away from prying eyes and ears.”

  “Rhys.” I tug his hand and look into his eyes wanting him to hear me, to understand. “Shut up,” I whisper with a grin that he matches, “you’re ruining it”. He pulls me through the cabin with urgency and I am sure he is not even listening. It is larger than I imagined. A large living area with a white bar and white leather couches, dominate the central cabin. A white baby grand piano sits in the corner. He leads me through the living area into the kitchen and through an unexpectedly large dining room, down another deck and through a solarium before he swings me around and pins me to the wall. His hips pressed against me, I rock back on my heels and almost lose my balance, saved only by the anchor of Rhys’ hips, and the smooth wall at my back.

  “Good, because I am done being friendly.” His eyes burn with intensity and the resonance in his voice sends lightning across my skin. He rocks his hips against me and I feel his anticipation press into my belly. Brushing my hair to the side, he licks and nips at my neck while his hands make quick work of the slight zipper that lies at the small of my back. His hands slip beneath the sheer fabric of my bodice and my skin is aflame with the burning lust of his touch. “I hate waiting.”

  “I need to look at you. It’s all I can think about,” he demands, opening the door, rolling me around the corner into a large suite. I’m awed by the room, and the massive bed that dominates. It floats on a platform, above the rest of the room, an island of crisp blue linens, pale and tranquil, reflective of the sea. Chocolate brown pillows are tossed about the bed and surround the platform. I hear Rhys slide out of his tuxedo jack
et before he steps up behind me, sending a shiver of anticipation down my jelly spine.

  The cabin swirls with heavy sea air, all polished wood and salt. It is charged and hot. He moves swiftly through the space, lighting rows of stark white pillars, the mirrors they stand upon amplifying their flame, reflecting upon his beautifully, dangerous face. He beckons to me with a mere flick of his finger and I go, willingly, achingly. He turns to me, hunger brimming in his eyes. His hands are in my hair twisting and pulling me towards him, bringing my lips to his, covering me with such gentle ease.

  He closes his eyes and catches a breath before slowly backing away to throw open the doors to the narrow veranda, inviting a gentle breeze to cool the crackling air. Moonlight streaks in over the bright linens on the bed, illuminating the entire surface and bouncing off the wall of mirrors on the far side, onto my frozen face. The reflection in the mirror could ignite a frozen lake, from across the room, I watch him slowly stalk towards me. He is looking only at me, and I watch him through the mirror, the only buffer between his fiery gaze and my highly flammable body. His broad shoulders roll under his shirt, while his hips gently sway side to side, rocking his form closer to me. He steps up behind me, placing his hand across my belly, watching my every move in the mirror. He buries his face in my hair, running the tip of his nose up my neck, the vibration practically rattling my teeth.

  “You smell amazing.” He gently runs his tongue along the crest of my ear before sucking on the lobe, all the while his hands are still and strong, holding me to him. His fingers splayed possessively across my belly, stone chest heaving against my back, his heartbeat slow and steady. I watch him in the mirror, worshiping my neck, lighting me up. He is so cool, comfortable in his role as seducer. He moves a hand to my neck and his fingers easily wind around my throat, the simple contact so erotic. Tipping my head back with his thumb, he opens me up for his mouth to devour mine. The kiss is deep. He tastes of scotch and cigars and the sea. I want to turn into his arms, but he holds me still, watching me slowly melt. Shining a white hot, crooked grin back at me, I swear I can hear the mirror shatter into a trillion tiny pieces from the force of his smile. An eager shudder rolls through me.