by Flora Dain
* * *
It took us a while to get up here. The path was steep but smooth. The trees are lovely, the views sensational. The wealthy leave nothing to chance, even unspoilt mountainside. When we found a place to sit I was out of breath. I thought Darnley would tell me about Eldon right away but to my surprise he took out his tiny tape recorder, wound through it a little way and then placed it in my hand.
He kissed me on the cheek and told me to play the tape.
And then he walked away.
* * *
Just here the hillside is thick with trees dappled with late-afternoon sunlight. Through them I can just glimpse the sprawling roofs of Camp Akela, hear the distant shouts of children and parents enjoying themselves. They might be wealthy and successful, the family law firm the foundation of their wealth until it was surpassed by the spectacular rise of their older son, but from up here they sound like any other happy family.
Now I know the truth. Just like many other families they’re not so happy. And for me and Darnley the universe has just shifted.
The thing about tracking Wolfe is one day you’ll meet one.
This startling, powerful and lonely man has darkness deep in his heart – a secret so terrible the ice formed around it freezes out everything else. Somehow I’ve managed to thaw it just a fraction but only enough for me to get a glimpse of it.
So now it’s buried in me too.
All I feel right now is horror at what forced him to do it and deep, gut-wrenching pity for the beautiful, intelligent young boy who tried on the spur of the moment to save his kid brother, someone dearer to him than himself.
But how can I help the man he’s become, with all power to love frozen? He needs help and badly. Right now all he’s got is me.
He thinks he’s a monster. A werewolf I could cope with – they’re just fairy tales. But DarnleyWolfe is not only damaged – he’s dangerous.
He claims he’s a killer.
He warned me what to expect. It was still a shock to hear it for real. That terrible encounter on the tape was the last recording he ever made on his little player. For all he knows these were the last words his tormentor ever spoke.
Next morning Fletcher Kraik was found dead, still handcuffed in the car.
* * *
All around me grasses and pretty wild flowers are blowing gently in the breeze. They look normal – pretty and summery. Inside my head I must wrestle with something terrible and wrong and not summery at all. My lover and my obsession, the most disturbing and extraordinary man I’ve ever met or am ever likely to, has killed someone.
And at this moment all I can think of is what forced him to do it. To me it wipes out everything else, even guilt.
That anyone could do such a thing to a young boy, over and over again …
It’s so dreadful I can barely think about it and yet he’s had to live with it all his life, all alone and with no way to share his burden. And somehow he’s risen through it to become a wealthy and successful businessman. And widely respected, except by the one person he tried to save – his kid brother, who hates him because of what he had to do to save him.
I sit up and look round in panic. Where is he?
All at once I spot him. Darnley’s sitting alone, a little way downhill. He says I need space to think, that this will change things.
As he placed the little recorder in my hand and sprang to his feet he told me I could reach the house by the other path and a car would be waiting to drive me somewhere – anywhere – if I wanted to leave. I never have to see him again if that’s what I want. And while he was walking away from me all I could think of was how much I wanted him back.
Now he’s sitting very still on an outcrop looking out over the valley, his knees drawn up and his long, fine hands looped loosely over them like he hasn’t a care in the world, like he’s just there to enjoy the view.
His hair ruffles a little in the breeze. I glimpse his perfect profile, the intelligent slant of his forehead, the line of his jutting cheekbone, the set of his jaw – a poem all by himself, more perfect than anything I could ever write. He’s my very own Greek statue, waiting, poised on the brink of the void, for my verdict.
As if I could judge someone like him. Until three weeks ago someone like me could never have dreamed of even meeting such a man. He’s rich beyond counting, he looks like a god and astonishingly, by some strange quirk of fate, for the moment he’s mine.
How can I measure such an unexpected treasure?
But now I find the statue has a flaw. The marble’s cracked right through. Darnley has a fractured past he can’t help and a broken heart he’s just inflicted on himself because the pain in his eyes tells me that’s what will happen to him if I walk away now.
My heart’s too full to cry. All I can think is how much I want him. I want to smother him with kisses, wrap him in love and tell him I’ll never leave him.
Naturally I’ll do none of these things.
He’s a man. Men like action. They like to do things.
I jump to my feet and brush grit and pine needles off my shorts. As my freshly dried hair, soft and silky now after our long luscious bath together, blows across my face I push it impatiently away and run down the path towards him. He glances up and rises to his feet to greet me, his face a careful blank, wiped clear of hope.
That twists my heart even more.
When I reach him I slip my arm through his and grin. ‘Race you back to the top.’
He looks at me blank for a full second and then his eyebrow tilts in a slight, sardonic lift. ‘You’re not driving back?’
I squeeze his arm and press myself against him. I fight down the instant and overwhelming urge to wrap my arms round him and hold him close. I’ll do it later. ‘Nope. I’m going back up. Bet I get there first.’
‘You? No chance.’ His face is wary but his eyes are alight.
I let go his arm and start to run – and pray. If he walks away now … or suppose he jumps?
I can’t even think about it.
But I hear footsteps behind me. My heart leaps as he races past, easily outpacing me with his longer legs and his dedication in the gym. I’m hopeless on slopes.
When I reach the top he’s already in command of it, astride it like a colossus, watching me with a pitying smile as I pant my way up the last few feet. As I reach him he pulls me into his arms, lifts me bodily off my feet and swings me round. ‘Slowcoach. You need more exercise. You’re light enough to do that easily. I ought to put you on a training programme.’
He kisses the tip of my nose as he lowers me to the ground. When I touch down he keeps his arms tightly wound around my back and his face grows serious. ‘You’re still here?’
I wind my arms around his neck and lay my cheek against his. ‘Yes. I’m still here.’
Close to my face I hear him swallow.
He pulls away and his eyes hint an unspoken question. He wants answers but I have only questions and now’s not the time.
He’s a man. Keep it simple.
With an almost superhuman effort I fight off the urge to say all the things I want to say. I kiss the edge of his jaw and smile up into his perfect face.
He looks at me for a full minute and then he touches his lips to mine. I run my tongue along his lower lip in a deliberate, searching sweep and instantly he reacts, fastening on my mouth like a starving man. His tongue plunges into me in a thrilling invasion that stops my breath. He kisses me for a long time. His tongue probes deep and I taste his passion and his relief. His kiss tells me far more than words – that this moment is not only very special and private but is bringing him back from some unimaginable brink. When he draws away I’m shocked to see his eyes glitter with unshed tears.
‘I thought –’. He breaks off, his voice hoarse and starts again. ‘I thought I’d lost you.’ He breathes out slowly. ‘Twice in one day’s a bit much.’
His tears are still in check but I hear them in his voice. They’re sparking mine. I feel them pri
ckle at the back of my eyes but I fight them back.
Not now. He needs me to be strong, to know that I’m making a rational decision, not one forged in the heat of the moment and fired by emotion.
‘I’m staying with you, Darnley. We’ll face this together.’
On one level this is entirely rational. He saved my life earlier this week. Now maybe I can save his. I owe him. But deep down I know it’s not rational at all. I’m bound to him by far more than honour. I’m simply obsessed with him – physically, emotionally, every damn way.
My voice sounds firmer than I feel. Inside I’m shaking like jelly, longing to share his tears, my heart almost bursting at the thought that this fine, strong, beautiful man should be reduced to this because he wants me so badly.
Dizzy with suppressed emotion I whisper it again, just to make sure he knows. ‘I’m staying right here. I promise.’
* * *
We walk back slowly, hand in hand. The forest around us is beautiful but he’s looking only at me.
I risk a question. ‘But I still don’t see why Eldon’s so bitter. Shouldn’t he be grateful?’ This part still puzzles me.
‘He never knew. He’d no idea what was about to happen to him. I’ve never told him. I never will. Like all little kids, he loved games in cars. When we ran off and left Kraik cuffed to the car Eldon thought it was all a game, even the handcuff part. But I just wanted to get him away. Then next day they found the body … I knew if it came out, what had happened to me, Eldon would guess he was meant to be next and he’d freak. So I warned him never to tell. I scared the shit out of him. All he knows is I killed his hero. Poor kid.’
I shudder at how much he’s had to bear. He lost not only his childhood – he lost his adored little brother too, because he can never tell him why he had to save him or what he was saving him from.
My heart bleeds for them both, but most of all for him.
I pause on the path and scan his face. ‘But – why not tell him all this? He’s an adult now. Surely he’ll understand?’
‘No.’ He stops walking. ‘Nobody should have that – or even the threat of that – in their past. I’d sooner he thought I was a killer. Promise me you’ll never tell him.’ His eyes fill with old pain and new dread.
My heart contracts. ‘OK, I promise. If it helps.’
For the first time since we came up here he smiles. ‘You’ve no idea.’
His lips curve into a smile and his hand fondles my rear in a firm, intimate squeeze that sets me on fire. ‘Let’s go somewhere private.’
* * *
When we reach the lawn we pause to watch a ramshackle basketball game between overtired children, some now ready for bed. Fond fathers laze in the sun, already on their first beer. Dodie looks on lovingly as little Emily toddles onto the field to pick up the ball and runs off with it, wobbling on her stout little legs. When one of the bigger children shouts at her to drop it I see Dodie clap her hand to her mouth and Emily’s little face pucker up and threaten tears.
Instantly Darnley darts forward, scoops her up, places her squarely on his shoulders with one hand and then toe-kicks the ball expertly up into the other and hands it up to her. Telling her to hold tight he jogs across the field, pauses by the net and tells her to drop it in. She shrieks in delight as the ball spirals through the net and the players cheer. She clings to his hair and squeals with laughter all the way back to a grateful Dodie, who gathers her up in her arms.
I feel my own tears sting at the look on Dodie’s face but then I smile too. More action. Even basketball may help him mend.
With a grin Darnley waves to them both, strides back to me, seizes my hand once more and hauls me after him, speeding up now as the others stare after us.
‘You’ll make them talk.’ I grin up at him as he drags me past an astonished Lydia, freshly changed into evening pants and a chiffon top. We skirt a row of startled servants bearing trays of cocktails out onto the lawn.
‘Let them. We’ve got a date.’
More action – this time me. He slams our door shut and barely pauses as he propels me across the room, tearing at my clothes. He captures my mouth, impaling me with his tongue, and swiftly removes my shorts, peels my panties down my thighs, drags my top high up over my arms, where he loops it round my wrists and pulls it into a tight knot so my hands are tied fast.
I know what to expect and why he needs this. I’m no longer scared. After what he’s told me it seems right and natural that he should do this and in this way. This is how he defines himself. And if it gives him pleasure then I’ll go with it for now. Maybe it works for me too.
I start to throb as he commands me to spread my legs wide for him and starts to unfasten his jeans with one hand while he presses my wrists hard up against the wall. He growls low in his throat and I press into him, grinding my hips hard against his jutting erection as it springs free, eager for him to fill me.
Take me somewhere. Now we’re well on the way. I know I’ve never wanted anything so much.
‘Hey, not so fast. I want you good and ready.’ He kisses me again and now his free hand explores my breasts, scooping them out of my bra cups. He stoops to fasten on first one and then the other, kneading them into tender, twitching mounds with his sure, hot fingers. I whimper as he circles my waist, his hand measuring my flat, taut belly, stretched into a hollow with my arms pulled so high over my head.
‘You like it like this? You like it hard?’
‘Sometimes.’ I bury my head in his neck, touching his skin with my tongue, working my way up to his ear and teasing his earlobe with my teeth. ‘Sometimes you’re everything I need, the harder the better.’
I feel rather than hear his grunt of satisfaction as he signals me to splay my thighs for him and his fingers slip deep into my folds. I shudder with pleasure as he slides in and out, his touch electric, sparking all over me.
‘You’re so wet.’ His erection gives a leap as he pushes three fingers deep inside me, eases them out and holds his hand over my face, his fingers glossy and slick. ‘Lick them clean. I want to watch your tongue and your lips.’
His voice is husky and deep. I obey in thrall to his power, his hunger so evident yet his need so carefully controlled. I’m in awe of the discipline it takes to hold himself off, delay the pleasure he craves so he can please me even more.
I lick obediently, tasting my own saltiness, keenly aware of his intense gaze taking in every detail of my arched throat, my soft, moistened lips, my tense, quivering tongue.
His thumb grazes the outer edges of my sex in a slow, deliberate sweep. The sensation makes me burn even hotter and now my groin is on fire with longing as his shaft prods at me, mocking my need.
When his fingers are clean he smiles and plunges all three deep into my mouth in a single shaft. ‘Suck.’
I fellate him eagerly, knowing that every tiny movement of my mouth and tongue, even my hollowed, sucking cheeks, are inflaming him to the point of madness as he imagines me doing this to his manhood. And at long last, as I’m growing weak with hunger for him, he fastens his mouth on mine. Now his tongue takes charge at one end and he drives deep into me at the other with a thrilling lunge that takes me perilously close to orgasm at first thrust.
He eases away slowly and then plunges again and speeds up, ramming into me with primal grunts as he hauls my aching arms high over my head.
At each thrust my swelling climax jolts ever closer and in minutes I convulse around him, his invading tongue stifling my shrieks, stemming any wasted energy that would prevent me from enjoying this to the full. Instead my spasms rack my body and fill my throat. I shudder, my muscles rippling around him as he pounds into me on his final stretch.
In seconds I feel his heat fill my belly and his chest heave with the effort and rapture of release, all the sweeter for having staved it off for so long, all the more satisfying for the new places he’s taken me.
And in that split second I know we’ve reached a strange new land.
Our
relationship was forged in heat, things between us already tricky. Now it’s turned passionate and for me things just got a whole lot trickier.
I’m in love.
CHAPTER TWENTY
We make it down to supper just in time for a cocktail. Lydia greets us warmly, her eyes sparkling. ‘So glad you made it, guys.’
Darnley rolls his eyes but I grin and blush, relieved she’s not offended. It must have been pretty obvious what we were doing but she seems not to mind.
She pulls me to one side and lowers her voice. ‘Feeling better, honey? Don’t be too harsh on Eldon over that business this morning. He gets edgy when Darnley’s around. When you vanished like that naturally he thought the worst. He’s been fretting about you all day.’
Just then Eldon drifts over clutching a beer. He still looks sulky. ‘You OK now? I wanted you to see a medic but Darnley played it down.’
Now I know his problem, his sulky expression tugs my heart. I touch his arm and swallow my pride, conscious of Darnley’s steady gaze. ‘I enjoyed the trip, Eldon. Sorry about the last part – I was joking around and got lost. No hard feelings?’
All at once he grins. Now I see he resembles Darnley as his hazel eyes crinkle at the corners, giving him real boyish charm. ‘Sure thing. And I’m real glad you can look after yourself. If you can swim like that you’re more than a match for my maniac brother.’
His voice is tinged with new respect. His grin hints that it might even be a joke. He finishes his beer and wanders off and now Lydia puts her arm through mine and leans close.
‘We’re so glad about you and Darnley. It’s time he settled down.’
‘What was he like as a boy?’ I already know some but I want a family view. It might explain why they’re all so scared of him.
Her face lights up. ‘Oh, when I first met him he was a dear little boy, so cute, so outgoing. He was six when I married Aaron. Eldon was already on the way and when he came Darnley was over the moon. Then around the time Eldon was about two Darnley turned moody. Started to get into trouble. I guess it hit him later. You know how kids are.’ She tails off, clearly uneasy.
