I give him a sideways glance. “A photograph?” He’s spoken of his Achilles heel, now he’s found mine. “Which photograph?”
“The one of us on the terrace last night, you looked a million dollars.”
“Two million dollars,” I interject sarcastically, watching the humour fade from his eyes.
“Behave! This is the real world Beth, I don’t make the rules I just operate in it and so do you now. Get used to it?”
He’s actually chastising me. “And where’s the romance in that,” I demand, feeling the sting of his words blistering my skin.
He takes my hand. “Why are you so upset?”
“Oh Ayden, for such a smart guy you really don’t have a clue do you?”
He’s beginning to lose his cool, he shakes free of my hand and begins to pace.
“Do you realise your family and my friends will find out about our engagement from the newspapers; you did all this behind my back and you even set it up last night with the professional photographer, didn’t you?” I break away. “We could have planned this together. Anyway … why didn’t you propose then, we had the candles, the stars, poetry?”
“I was going to, that was my plan. I had the ring in my pocket the whole time, but someone decided to go and turn themselves into this hot babe and someone tied my hands behind my back and my feet to a chair, and fucked the shit out of me.”
I’m finding it impossible to keep a straight face, so impassioned is his protestation; I’m having to fold my lips into my mouth, to stifle bubbling laughter.
Poor baby.
Slightly out of breath, his rant continues. “I couldn’t speak, let alone propose. So it’s not entirely my fault.” He shares a wicked smile. “But, don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining.”
I match his ridiculously hot smile. “Neither am I but ...”
He rolls his eyes.
“… But look at it from my point of view. One of the most memorable events of my life, you proposing, feels like it’s been staged; you’ve had your script and I’ve just been strung along like an extra. That’s why I’m upset?”
I watch him moving back and forth. For the first time in forty eight hours, his hand finds his neck and he is visibly tense. I’ve said enough.
“So, alright, I was a little hasty and maybe I should have run it by you, but I wanted to tell the world, is that so wrong? I fucked up the proposal and now I’ve fucked this up. I’d better just stick to what I’m good at.”
I stand, take hold of his biceps, struggling to keep him in one spot long enough for our eyes to meet. “Don’t beat yourself up about it Ayden, you’re good at this, at us. You’re used to flying solo, I should have realised that.” I take his hand “But you have a co-pilot now. You have me. Come and sit down.” I lead him to the sofa area and lift his chin, witnessing his disappointment. “I was surprised, but I’m ok with it now. Your intentions were honourable and you were right to plan ahead.”
“You have to keep reminding me to include you Beth, it’s a reflex action. Do you want me to try and pull the press release?” He means it.
What a preposterous idea “No, you’ve got enough on your mind without that, besides Charlie won’t believe her eyes.” I force a cheerful smile.
“Ok, but lesson learned. I’ll discuss this kind of thing with you next time.” He kisses my lips with gentle devotion. “Thank you for letting me off so lightly.”
I twist my engagement ring around on my finger. “Maybe I haven’t, maybe a suitable punishment will be waiting for my naughty boy who makes me want to do naughty things, when he comes back from Hong Kong?” I fix him with a girly stare which goes some way towards reinforcing my sensual threat.
He kisses my hand and runs it from his collar bone, down to his heart. “You can’t go making threats like that Beth. I won’t get through the day picturing you in that outfit with my belt around your neck.”
He grins in such a way I feel my insides melting. “Then you shouldn’t have been so impulsive,” I whisper, brushing my lips over his. “Now we are officially an item, your word for the week and forever is “we.” Got it?”
“Yes, Miss Parker.” I love playful Ayden. He breaths into my ear, sensuously. “I suppose we won’t be getting a blow job now?”
I gaze upon eyes that are alive with a mixture of laughter and desire. “I’m afraid not. We’re about to land.”
“Damn! I’ll ask them to circle for half an hour,” he growls, pretending to leave the seat and holding back a loving smile. “Come on, we need to buckle up.”
I take his hand and stand by his side, straightening his sweater and smoothing out his hair. “I like it when you say the word ‘we,’ it makes what we have seem real somehow.”
“Oh it’s real baby, and tomorrow you’ll be able to read all about it.” He winks and leads me to my seat. “Brace yourself!”
I throw him a baffled stare. Does he mean for the landing or for the press release? Before I can ask him which, the Captain announces we will be landing in ten minutes.
I fumble with the seat belt and distract myself from my least favourite part of the flight by examining this gorgeous man sitting opposite me. He is totally relaxed and utterly fuckable in his slate grey sweater and pale blue jeans which are just about managing to contain his fading erection. My Mr. P. is the embodiment of male perfection and, by the look on his face he knows that’s exactly what I’m thinking.
“Assessing?”
“Enjoying,” I reply candidly.
“Me too.”
Like the shutter on a camera, I close my eyes, memorising every inch of him, rescuing my body from his potent stare and mentally preparing myself for the longest three days of my life.
The aroma of home-cooked food and Elise makes Dan a little lightheaded. Not because it or she affects him viscerally, but because he hasn’t eaten a decent meal since, well he can’t remember when. The whiff of garlic, onions and roast beef tantalises his taste buds while her floral fragrance evokes a memory of wild, open spaces and childhood.
The pub lunch is the least romantic option but it suits them both. They order food at the bar and find an out of the way seat where they can hear themselves speak, yet are still within earshot of the TV. Thinking ahead, Dan wants to avoid any awkward silences and is using the TV as back-up; if all else fails they can talk about the news.
As luck would have it, there is little need of CNN and the conversation is fluid. He embellishes a couple of university anecdotes and she amuses him with stories about viewings and courses she’s attended. She talks. He listens and takes it all in.
Twenty minutes in, the food arrives. They tuck into two ploughman’s lunches and a basket of chips, hardly noticing the passing of time. The awkwardness that was evident two days ago has merged into a mutual understanding; they’re two friends having lunch together and amorous intentions do not feature on the menu. There seems to be a silent arrangement which is allowing them to relax, safe in the knowledge there will be no pressure to perform, neither of them have expectations. It’s just lunch.
Elise is visibly relaxing and Dan is happy to watch, commending himself on his judiciousness, she’s just what the doctor ordered: a distraction and nothing more. He knows the next few days will be a test of his skilfulness as a kidnapper and a lover. By this time tomorrow, he’ll be able to have his cake and eat it.
By 3 o’clock, they are full to the brim with sticky toffee pudding and lager. A lull in the conversation forces Dan to turn to his back-up for inspiration. “You been keeping an eye on the trouble in the Far East?”
Elise nods no.
“What a bunch of fucking morons, won’t be happy ‘till they start a war, and then we’ll all get drawn into it.”
She tucks her hair behind her right ear. “I don’t pay much attention to it. I’ve got enough to think about without worrying about them.”
“Right, I know the feeling.”
The anchor man appears on screen:
“We’ve just
had word that media magnate Ayden Stone has announced his engagement to an English school teacher … over to you Bret … yes, thank you Matt. One of the most eligible bachelors in Europe has announced his engagement today to Elizabeth Parker, a twenty seven year old school teacher from London, England. In a press release today he said, “Beth and I are very happy. After a whirlwind romance, we’re planning to get married as soon as possible and build a future together. I’m a very lucky man.”
Both Dan and Elise look up at the screen, open-mouthed, transfixed. “Fuck!” They say in unison, turning to each other so quickly their heads spin.
“Pardon?” Elise is the first to react. She’s frowning and staring at Dan, refusing to release him from her startled gaze.
“Sorry.”
“About what? Swearing or having something to say about Ayden Stone?”
Dan’s flustered. He picks up his glass and throws back the remaining dregs of golden liquid. “About swearing. It was uncalled for.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck about the swearing. It’s why you did it that worries me. I need a drink.” She grabs her purse from her bag and pushes back her chair. “Same again?”
“If you’re buying.”
With a cursory nod, she strides over to the bar. Dan’s brain is working overtime. Has he let the cat out of the bag? What can he tell her? Nothing. Why the hell did she swear?
When she returns to her seat, she’s bursting to talk. “So, are you going to tell me why you were shocked?” Her unflinching look tells him she’s like a dog with a bone. She will not let it drop.
Dan takes the offensive position. “I think you should be the one confessing Elise. It wasn’t a very ladylike thing to do, calling out like that. You must have had good reason?” He drums his fingers on the table, waiting for her reply.
“Firstly, I never said I was a lady and secondly, I do have good reason.” She hesitates, finding it difficult to explain. Dan gives her all the time she needs. “Ayden and I have history. We go way back and, since then, well …”
Dan cannot conceal his astonishment. “You know him?” He cannot put the two of them together, it simply does not compute.
She’s offended. “Yes. Why? Is it so surprising that someone like me should know someone like him?” She lifts up her glass and takes a big gulp. “He’s just a guy you know, not a fucking God.”
“Oh, I know that, but …”
“But, you can’t imagine what he’d see in me?”
Dan prepares to salvage what he can of her ego. “No, it’s not that. I’m just wondering why he let you go.” Leaving the compliment floating around in the shifting air, he takes a sip of his drink. “He must be a fucking idiot.”
Elise is dumbstruck. She had an arsenal of self-defending remarks all loaded up and ready to launch and is grateful for not having to propel a single one. She places her hand on his arm. “Thank you. That’s a nice thing to say.”
“It’s the truth,” he lies, thinking she has been so preoccupied with her own outburst that she has forgotten his. He’s wrong.
Still deep in thought, she sips slowly and turns to him, leaving the glass in front of her face, “So, that explains my little eruption. What’s your excuse?”
It’s shape up or ship out time for Dan. He could lie quite easily, and spin a yarn about some university visit gone wrong involving Stone. Or he could tell her a half truth. Who knows, she may be a valuable ally?
“My shout out had nothing to do with your ex, it had more to do with his fiancée. I know her.”
Now it’s Elise’s turn to be shocked. Her lips are parted and her eyes are large and disbelieving. “You know her?”
Dan gives her a reproving look which sears her to her chair.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” She gives his arm a squeeze. “What I meant to say was, how do you know her?” She is still and attentive.
He refuses to feel boxed in. For the first time in his life, he can actually speak her name. “Elizabeth Parker went to Cambridge about six years ago and we got together then.” It’s not a lie. Merely saying her name out loud causes a stab of that which has no name to circulate his groin.
Elise wants details. “You went out?”
“Yeah.”
“For how long?”
“A couple of months.”
“Nothing serious then?”
“Not for her.”
She eyes him suspiciously. “But it was for you?”
“Yeah, you could say that.”
“Have you been in touch with her since?
“No. She moved away, I don’t know where.”
“I do.” Her face contorts into a grimace. “Right into Ayden’s arms, that’s where.”
“Looks that way.”
“Yes it does.” She arches her body towards him and leans in so close he can feel her fevered breath on his face. “And what the fuck are we going to do about it?”
Dan’s face splits in two. His wicked grin leaves her in no doubt as to his willingness to get involved. “Leave it with me Elise, I’ll think of something.”
“Good.” She lifts up her glass, expecting him to do the same. “I’ll drink to that.”
21
Lester is a welcome sight, waiting outside international arrivals. At least his driving will comply with some sort of Highway Code, which is more than can be said for his Italian counterparts. “Mr. Stone, Miss Parker. Welcome back. I hope you had an enjoyable trip?”
“Lester.”
As Ayden doesn’t do small talk, I speak for both of us. “Yes we did thank you Lester, the hotel was lovely and the weather stayed fine.”
I notice Lester is smiling politely but shifting from left to right. He knows how Ayden can be. I stand my ground. It costs nothing to be polite.
“How about you? What have you been up to?”
“What the hell. We’re losing daylight here.” Ayden yells from inside the Rolls Royce.
I accept Lester’s apologetic smile and climb inside. “Ayden, sometimes you can be so rude.” I turn away to look out of the window. Even though he’s tutting and blowing out hot air, I won’t let it go. “For someone whose business is communications, you’re a terrible communicator.” All I’m getting back is a wide stare. “You’ll find people will work harder and be more loyal if you treat them with respect.”
“Miss Parker, in business, ‘… it is much better to be feared than loved,’” he says smartly.
“Oh please, tell me you’re not blaming Machaivelli for your rudeness?”
He wraps his left arm around my shoulders and buries his nose in my hair. It feels so intimate and I fold into him. “No, it was just a quote that came to me. I’ll bear in mind what you said.”
The Rolls pulls out onto the busy lane, and picks up speed. In a moment of mental clarity I recall Jake’s cryptic message, The shits’s hitting the fan here ... What does he expect me to do about it? I can’t make Ayden leave me and go to Hong Kong. If I tell him about the text, I’ll have to disclose my other L.A. arrangement and he’ll feel betrayed. If I say I want to be alone, he’ll become suspicious and upset. What to do?
I fidget around on the leather seat and try to find a ‘painless’ position, knowing Ayden will notice my discomfort. He misses nothing.
“What’s wrong?”
Here goes …
“Nothing, I think I need a good long soak in a hot bath.” I offer a half smile.
“Are you sore?”
He’s genuinely concerned and I’m touched. Not wanting to worry him too much I play it down. “A bit, but I’ll be ok. Don’t worry.”
“We’ll go to your apartment, if you want, if you’d feel more comfortable there. Or we can still go to Belgravia if you’re up to it?” He’s tipping his head sympathetically, waiting for a reply.
I hate myself. “Maybe I should go home and let you get on with some work.” I drop that suggestion out there, testing the water.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say having had your w
icked way with me Miss Parker, you’re trying to get rid of me.”
Shit!
Now he’s becoming suspicious. I stretch up and kiss his cheek. “Of course not. I just think being on the receiving end of so much ... sex, has its disadvantages.”
“Oh I get it, you want me to kiss it better?” He starts to position me in the middle of the enormous leather seat. Now he’s kneeling between my legs. “Looks like I’ll be ruining another pair of trousers.”
So much for my scheming.
He’s unbuttoning my jeans. I take hold of his hands and slide them down my thighs. As tempted as I am and as needy as I feel, I have to at least try to get him back on track, but this is proving harder than I thought.
“That’s a kind offer but I’m afraid I cannot accept it.”
An inscrutable look appears like a mist over his face, either he’s worried that I’m rejecting him or he hates the idea of being rebuked. Either way, it’s not good.
“This from the woman I spent the last three days fucking.”
There’s a disturbing shift in tone. I hate it. “Yes that would be me Ayden. I’m the one who’s sore and swollen and in pain, so consider your words carefully. I don’t want you to see how I look at the moment. It’s not a pretty sight, ok?”
If self-loathing had a face, it would look like the one in front of me: he’s unhappy about his lack of sensitivity and, frankly, so am I.
“I’m sorry.” His firm hands find their way to my face and slide into my hair, releasing the clip. Still kneeling, he ruffles my hair until it settles on my shoulders, before inching towards my lips. The softness of his kisses and gentleness of his hands massaging my hair remind me of how close we have become. He’s on his knees to me and I feel as if this is the closest I will ever get to being worshiped.
“We need to take a time-out, don’t we?”
I hear the ‘we’ loud and clear: how can a single word make my chest hurt? “I think we do.”
I lean into him and our foreheads touch. I know if I pull him to me, I’ll fold. He knows that too, I glance at his hands shaped into fists, left and right of me on the seat. I attempt to lift him off the floor but he won’t budge, his eyes are downcast and his mood is sombre.
Story of Us trilogy 01: TouchStone for Play Page 44
