Boxed Set: At the Billionaire’s Command – Vol. 1-3

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Boxed Set: At the Billionaire’s Command – Vol. 1-3 Page 8

by Lucy Jones


  "Oh don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault. By the way, I collected your bags. It’s a good job you told me your name!" he said, laughing. "They are there", he said, pointing at them in a corner of the room.

  "Oh thank you Vincent! I was a bit worried about them."

  "Listen, I spoke to a doctor and he told me you had a series of tests this morning, so I’ll go home and freshen up, sleep a bit and then come back soon, OK?"

  "You don’t have to, you know."

  "Don’t be silly", he said, smiling. "See you later!" he added, taking his bag and leaving.

  A few minutes after he left the room, I noticed that he had left his jacket on the back of the chair. A black notebook was sticking out of one of the pockets. My curiosity aroused, I leant over to get it. Then I fluffed up my pillows to make it easier to sit up and looked at the notebook’s black cover for a few moments, before deciding to open it. I started to leaf through it methodically. The first few pages contained various notes jotted down in a muddle and spaced out: references of books to buy, quotations, three of four telephone numbers, a guitar tablature, etc. Then the notes stopped. One, two… five pages were empty. And then the writing started again, this time covering the whole page, with hardly any white spaces. These were not notes, but a text. A text which covered several pages. I was intrigued and began to read.

  “I met Julia on the plane; my seat was next to hers. She was asleep when I sat down, so I looked at her without her seeing me. With her beautiful face framed by large blond ringlets, perfect crimson mouth, thick lips and fresh complexion free of make-up… she was naturally beautiful.

  She was wearing a skirt, a sort of long petticoat, and a wide t-shirt with three-quarter length sleeves which revealed the top of one shoulder, like a promise, and hinted at a round, firm chest. I told myself I was really lucky to be sitting there, next to such an attractive girl.

  Her head was resting uncomfortably against the side of the plane and I wanted to lift it up delicately and nestle it in my arms. I didn’t do anything of course, but I continued to admire her.

  Julia had a nightmare, which made her wake up and led to us starting to talk. From that moment, we talked constantly until the end of the flight. Julia is funny, astute, unaffected and spontaneous; she doesn’t simper and her laugh is not affected. She’s different from the other girls I know. She has a sort of wisdom and mystery about her, something perceptible but undefinable. She seems to come from somewhere else.

  But then she was taken ill when we were about to land and I wasn’t allowed to go in the ambulance with her. Was someone waiting for her at the airport? Where was she supposed to go? I hadn’t asked her. The only thing I really knew about her was her name. So I collected her bags, hassled the airport staff to find out which hospital she had been taken to and came here as quickly as I could.

  They didn’t want to let me in here either, but I spoke to the doctor who was monitoring her and he was very understanding.

  When I entered her room, she was asleep. I didn’t make a sound. I wanted to stay awake in case she opened her eyes. I had to find something to do. I didn’t have a book with me. I told myself that maybe Julia had one in her suitcases, and that’s why I opened them. I found several books, but they were not what piqued my curiosity. I could see cheap, basic clothes, the kind of thing that all twenty year old girls have in their wardrobe, lying next to luxurious dresses; cotton knickers next to satin and lace underwear; trainers and extremely expensive court shoes. And then jewellery which must be worth a fortune. I also remembered her watch, which contrasted with the rest of her outfit.

  Why did Julia have such an extreme wardrobe? Did she lead a double life? What was she doing in New York? What was her job? Was she a model? No, she was too short for the diktats of fashion. Escort girl? Perhaps, although it was hard to believe. And that short text she took out of her bag, I am almost certain she was lying when she said it belonged to a friend; I think it was written for her.

  I spread out the luxurious dresses and unfolded the lingerie. I touched the silky fabrics and crumpled them in my hands. And I began to dream about Julia wearing all this finery.

  As I rubbed the silk against my cheek, I saw Julia move in front of me, come closer and brush up against me. My penis began to get hard. I’m not a great expert in clothes and material has never really done it for me. No, what aroused me was imagining Julia wearing them, seeing her in them. Seeing her dressed like that, for me.

  I caressed the satin and lace with my fingers, delicately, as if I were running my hands over her curves. I was fully erect by now.

  In my fantasy, the dresses slipped slowly down her body, revealing her ravishingly sensual feminine curves. I imagined that her skin was as soft as these silk garments. I unbuttoned my trousers, slowly unzipped them, pulled my pants down over my hips, took hold of my cock and began to masturbate. There were so many mysteries about Julia that I wanted to understand! How this girl aroused and intrigued me! How she provoked my imagination!

  I smelt the materials and brought them to my lips. How I would have loved to bury myself in Julia’s thighs and inhale her, how I would have loved to kiss her. As my dream took shape, my hand caressed my rod faster and faster. I stuffed a pair of satin knickers into my mouth to hide the sound of my moans. I could feel that I was about to come. I bit into the knickers and felt the hot, thick liquid run down my hand.

  I re-folded the clothes and closed the cases. I am now sitting on a chair at your bedside. I am watching you sleep, Julia, and I will not tire of watching you sleep. I would like to take you in my arms and plant a kiss on your forehead.

  I watch you and wonder who you are, Julia”.

  9. A hint of concern and two grams of tenderness

  Wow! Those few pages showed that Vincent had a much more passionate and imaginative nature than I ever would ever have guessed from his appearance! The young man wasn’t as predictable and smooth as he seemed!

  Reading the pages that Vincent had filled with his desire and fervor disturbed me in several ways. From an external point of view of a simple reader, his fantasy had titillated me. From a more personal point of view, because those lines were about me, I was touched by the respectful tenderness he had shown towards me, by the contrast between the fervor of his attraction and the courtesy he had shown by writing his feelings down instead of telling me about them. And of course, I was also flattered to be the object of a man’s desire and be noticed. Although it had never even entered my mind that he might like me (how many times had Sarah been amazed by my naivety and general cluelessness! She used to say that I had so little self-confidence that I could never see when a boy was interested in me and it was true, I never could).

  I was obviously not annoyed with Vincent and I had no intention of telling him about my discovery and blaming him. It is well known that cogitationis poenam nemo patitur!1. But I hoped he wasn’t expecting anything from me, that his first impressions would dissipate and that his feelings would evolve into friendship. I really liked Vincent and I was grateful for his help and support. But the man who…

  Daniel! Oh my God! Nobody must have told him! Had he left the airport furious when he hadn’t seen me get off the plane? Had he looked for me? I had to call him.

  I put Vincent’s notebook back in its place and looked around for my handbag. I saw it on the window ledge. I was suddenly so nervous that I quickly lifted the sheets and jumped out of bed. But this sudden movement was too fast and I started to feel dizzy. I just had time to catch myself by leaning against the wall. I stayed there for a few seconds until I got my balance back. Once I felt steady, I walked more slowly towards the window to get my bag. It was at that moment that the bedroom door opened and the doctor I had seen yesterday entered, along with a nurse.

  "Hello, Miss Belmont. It seems you are feeling a bit stronger?"

  "Hello Doctor. Yes, I feel better this morning."

  "It would still be wise to rest for a bit longer. For today at least."

  "I j
ust needed to get my bag. Then I was going to get back into bed."

  "Very well. I will leave you with the nurse; she is going to take some blood and do a few routine tests. I will come and see you again with the results."

  "Thank you Doctor."

  This ill-timed intrusion delayed my call to Daniel and so made me even more nervous. Luckily, the nurse was efficient and not particularly chatty. She did what she had to do fairly quickly, so that I was soon alone in my room again.

  I rummaged in my bag to try and find my telephone. I realised that it had been switched off since I boarded the plane in New York about seventeen hours ago.

  When the screen finally came on, it showed “10 missed calls”,“20 new text messages”. They were all from Daniel’s number…

  Telephone, Missed calls. Ten, which was approximately one for every hour between my scheduled arrival in Paris at eleven pm and nine am this morning. Messages. With my heart beating fast, I scrolled through the messages, one after the other, starting with the oldest.

  25 July 2012 22:55

  [Julia, you know I am not used to waiting. And I have no desire to get used to it. But this evening, I’m waiting for you.]

  25 July 2012 23:05

  [I am at the terminal. There’s nobody here. Julia, where are you?]

  25 July 2012 23:15

  [Julia, what are you playing at? I have been reliably informed that you were on the plane. I can’t see you among the passengers and there are no more coming out. I came here, but I can just as easily leave without you, if you don’t come forward immediately.]

  25 July 2012 23:25

  [This childish little farce is in extremely poor taste.]

  25 July 2012 23:30

  [You’re going too far, Julia. If this is a game, it’s not funny. If you’ve run away, at least have the guts to own up, explain yourself like an adult and answer your telephone!]

  25 July 2012 23:58

  [Very well, Julia. I’ve taken note. Consider this the last message you’ll receive from me. No point replying, it’s too late. Adieu.]

  My eyes filled with tears. Not for one minute did Daniel suspect that something might have happened to me, or that my absence was beyond my control. No, he thought only about himself and about his displeasure. Not being there obviously meant being cowardly and childish and not caring. Not being there clearly meant deliberately trying to offend him. Had he been hurt so badly it’d made him into a perpetual victim? Could he not think about anyone before himself? At the slightest annoyance, he’d retreated back into his tower, full of scathing messages, cut me off with radical ultimatums and bid adieu.

  I was sad. Sad and angry. Had this setback, which wasn’t my fault, ruined everything? Did the story end here, hanging on a text message? Did Daniel really think I was such a child? Was he going to be judge and jury without me being able to say anything? No way! So he wanted to cut all ties? Up to him. But I wouldn’t be silent; I’d let him know why he hadn’t found anyone at arrivals and what effect his messages had had on me.

  I was here, alone in my hospital room, telling myself I never should have left New York. Why on earth had I come back?

  I dried my tears, took a deep breath and scrolled through the rest of the messages.

  26 July 2012 2:46

  [Julia, not meeting you after your flight arrival has made me so angry. I’ve gone home. Give me an explanation when you’ve come to your senses.]

  26 July 2012 3:14

  [Listen, this situation doesn’t make sense. I admit I got a bit carried away. Send me a message, so we can be done with it.]

  26 July 2012 3:49

  [Julia say something, I beg you!]

  26 July 2012 4:14

  [Don’t remain silent. You can tell me if you don’t want to see me again. Just tell me and the matter will be closed.]

  26 July 2012 4:30

  [No Julia, I can’t believe that you don’t want to see me again. I want you.]

  So, Daniel had continued to write. The tone was different, less angry and less sure of himself, but he continued to believe that my disappearance was voluntary. He was beginning to doubt my desire to see him again. Hadn’t he wondered this before? And it always came back to his omnipotence: I want you therefore I have you…

  26 July 2012 5:02

  [Julia, where are you? If you’re having problems, I’ll come and get you. Why does it always go straight to your voicemail?]

  26 July 2012 5:20

  [Has something happened to you?]

  26 July 2012 5:30

  [Something must’ve happened to you. I can’t see any other explanation.]

  He took his time, but he’d finally asked himself the right question.

  26 July 2012 5:47

  [If something has happened to you, I’ll never forgive myself. I should’ve asked Ray to accompany you.]

  26 July 2012 6:11

  [I’ll continue to write to you in case you can read my messages. I’m looking for you and I will find you.]

  26 July 2012 6:28

  [Is everyone asleep in this city? Nothing and nobody will stop me moving heaven and earth.]

  26 July 2012 6:56

  [Julia, I’m going mad with worry.]

  26 July 2012 7:19

  [Ray didn’t find out much from the airport. He has a list of the stewardesses on your flight and is contacting them, because it must’ve happened on the plane. I’m afraid someone has kidnapped you, that they wanted to get at me through you. I’m so sorry, Julia.]

  All these messages one after the other allowed me to imagine Daniel’s night. I could sense his anger, his turmoil and his questions. I imagined him restless, pacing up and down, and waking Ray in the middle of the night. I could feel his concern starting to show, growing and overflowing. It hurt to know I’d made him go through that, but at the same time I was pleased he was concerned and about everything he was doing to find me, because that proved he liked me. Even if he didn’t say it like that and even if he brought everything back to himself yet again, thinking that anything that happened to me was aimed at him.

  26 July 2012 8:46

  [We spoke to one of the stewardesses. It seems that you were taken ill, but the idiot didn’t know which hospital you were in. We’re calling them all.]

  It was 9.10 am when I called Daniel’s number. He answered at the first ring.

  "Julia?!"

  I could hear in his voice that he was stressed, but also relieved.

  "Hello Daniel, I…"

  "Where are you?"

  His voice was its usual smooth self once again.

  “The American Hospital."

  "I’m on my way. I can’t wait to see you again, Julia."

  (Silence).

  "Me too Daniel."

  Barely five minutes after I’d hung up, someone knocked at the door. Here already? No, it wasn’t Daniel who entered the room but Vincent.

  "Hello! How are you?"

  "Fine."

  "You don’t seem thrilled to see me. Am I disturbing you?"

  "No, not at all. I was expecting someone else. But I’m pleased you’re here."

  "Would you prefer me to leave if you’re expecting someone?"

  "No, stay. Did you rest a bit?"

  "As you can see", he said with a wide smile, lifting his head, sticking out his chest and extending his arms out horizontally. "Rested, showered and changed!"

  "Fresh as a daisy!" I said, laughing.

  "Is there anything you need?"

  "No, thank you."

  "Do you know when you can leave?"

  "Should be this evening. I’m waiting for the doctor to confirm it."

  "Good, so we can…"

  He was interrupted by the noise of the door being thrown wide open. Daniel burst into the room, his face tired but smiling. But when he saw Vincent, he stopped dead, his face contorted, staring daggers at me.

  "What is this young man doing in your room?" he asked, approaching the bed and turning his back to Vincent.

 
"Daniel, I’d like to introduce Vincent."

  "I didn’t ask who he was, I asked what he’s doing here!" he shouted without turning round.

  "Would it kill you to be pleasant?! You can’t just turn up here not knowing anything, full of assumptions, and be rude.”

  While I was talking to Daniel, I discretely moved my head in response to Vincent who, a few metres behind Daniel, had indicated that he could leave the room if I wanted him to.

  "So come on, explain. What do I need to know?"

  Vincent slipped away.

  "Why did you react so aggressively? Vincent was sitting next to me on the plane, he helped me when I started to feel ill; he told the stewardesses, collected my luggage, managed to find out where I had been taken and it was Vincent who sat with me until I woke up."

  As the tears rose in my throat, my voice started to shake and my speech became slower. It was a bit unfair to turn Vincent’s help into a reproach against Daniel, but I wanted to show him that he was wrong to get carried away.

  "He’s a bit pale, your good samaritan.”

  His words were contemptuous, but his tone was not. I decided not to respond, he was just provoking me in return.

  Daniel came and sat down on the bed and gently caressed my eyelids with the inside of his index finger to chase away the tears.

  We calmed down in the ensuing silence and a different kind of tension arose between us.

  "Forgive me. I’m exhausted. I was really scared."

  Daniel’s hand had not left my face; he was stroking my cheek affectionately. After a while, he continued:

  "The doctor monitoring you said you can leave this evening. I’ll come and collect you.

  I smiled faintly and nodded my head in agreement

  Daniel’s palm covered half of my face, from my forehead to my chin. He left his hand like that and I closed my eyes. This gesture said so much, it was so tender and so comforting. It said that all his worry was over, it said, “everything will be ok”, it said he had been waiting for this moment and wanting to touch my skin again. I sighed with relief and happiness at being with him and also with pleasure.

 

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