by Flora Dain
She’s here. The woman in pink is standing in the doorway, chewing gum. Her hair is scraped back in a tight knot. Her eyes are cold and blank. This close she smells of stale sweat and cigarettes.
I put down my folder, rise slowly to my feet and edge around to the other side of the desk.
‘Mz Dean? I been tryin’ to get ya alone. Ya always got folks with ya.’
I open my mouth but no sound comes out. I clear my throat and try again. ‘Who are you?’
She leans against the doorframe, easy now, like she owns the place. ‘My name’s Lola Forman. We ain’t met. This is a bit of a long shot, but I need help. You’re maybe too young to remember, but back in the day there was this popcorn guy on TV all the time? He was called Korn Kraik.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I take a deep breath and shred a shedload of prejudice. This woman may have scared me witless but if this is about Kraik I need to hear this.
Now we’re up close I’m surprised she’s so edgy. She seems more scared than I am. I try an encouraging smile to loosen things up. ‘Sure. Fire away.’
‘Not here.’ She shifts from foot to foot, still chewing. ‘Kin you come round to our place one night? I need to show you sumpn.’
I lick my lips. Front-line staff avoid one-to-one sessions with parents. We’re supposed to let other professionals see them. Conversations can turn violent.
‘So you’re a parent? Guardian? Of whom, exactly?’
‘Oh, no, my boy don’ come here.’ She looks scared. ‘I’m jes’ a cleaner. I see your picture in the paper back in the summer. In the paper it said you was datin’ one of the Wolfe family, them hotshot lawyers? I once heard Kraik say he was real friendly with them. He used to brag about it, how much time he spent with them, an’ all.’
I breathe out slowly. ‘OK. So, let’s talk about this now.’
Her eyes flash. ‘Wassup? You too classy to visit? Please, Mz Dean. ’S real important.’ The heartfelt plea in her eyes is both direct and shaming.
I smile brightly. ‘OK, no problem. When shall I …?’
‘I’m workin’ nights this week. Have to be Monday. You gotta pen?’
She gives me the address – a house number somewhere deep in downtown Roxbury, some street well off the lower Washington Road. Then she’s gone.
As I collect my things to leave, the classroom doorway darkens again.
Darnley. ‘Was that the woman? I waited outside. You OK?’
I nod and manage a rueful smile. ‘Turns out she knows something about Kraik. She wants to talk.’
‘Kraik?’
He moves closer, his powerful elegance and his immaculate suit a startling vision here in my workplace, like an ad in a magazine where classical perfection is purposely set against a crude backdrop – in this case my messy chalkboard and scattered workbooks. But unlike a magazine the central figure here is disturbingly real, his animal magnetism already working on my senses, a heady mix of power and purpose. But he’s gone white.
His eyes flash. ‘She wants to talk? Why you? Why now?’
The fury in his eyes fills me with dismay. He’s already deciding whether to believe me.
I’m not yet forgiven.
Chilled at this thought, I hold his gaze and remind myself sternly that I’m the professional here. Maybe it’s time I behaved like one. ‘She wouldn’t say. She wants me to go round to her place. She’s working nights so it has to be Monday.’
He frowns. ‘Why not in the daytime?’
Helpless in the blast of his fury I feel a surge of heat so explicit I wonder if he senses it. I try to focus. ‘Maybe she sleeps,’ I say gently.
He turns brisk. ‘Fine. We’ll go together. I’ll talk to her too. This could be a trick. But she may know something about this other business.’
‘But –’ I break off, startled at the sudden gleam in his eyes.
‘You object?’ He’s watching me. He’s guessed I’d sooner go alone. And he’s already asking himself why.
I give in gracefully. ‘Sure. We’ll go together. Should be interesting.’
That’s putting it mildly.
Bullen is waiting outside in the car. As we pull away into the traffic I see Darnley frown at my wrists. ‘You covered them today?’
‘They’re fine. No big deal.’ I bite my lip. This morning the marks were still vivid. I put on some ointment and pair of unused wristbands from the staff sports locker.
Now he takes my hands in his lap and fingers the places, his expression still and focused. ‘Take these off.’
As he fingers the bands sensation ripples up my lower arms, mostly fear. Something in his tone concerns me. ‘What for?’
He rolls his eyes. ‘Because I want to see them.’
Slowly I remove them. Underneath the stretch-rib the elastic has left tiny ridges. He fingers the pattern with a light fingertip, his touch soft but unbearably arousing on my newly exposed, sensitive skin. ‘I want you to leave these off till tomorrow.’ His voice is low and disturbing.
My stomach shrinks. ‘Why?’
‘Because I have to see them.’
I swallow, scared to ask this. ‘Darnley, I have to know, did you make those marks just to look at afterwards?’ Could he really be that messed-up?
He looks at me perplexed. ‘Dammit, Ella. It’s just … I have to remind myself what I’ve done. What I’m capable of.’ Pain flickers across his face. The pity it stirs in me lingers long after he’s raised my hands to his lips, kissed my fingers and then folded both my hands in his.
He keeps them in his lap as he turns away. For the rest of our journey he stares out of the window, his jaw rigid.
Tonight, for some reason, the traffic is a nightmare. When we finally walk into the quiet spaces of his mansion he turns to me with a troubled look. ‘Upstairs.’
Without waiting for an answer he seizes my hand and I trail after him up the great, curving staircase. Below, his housekeeper looks up in surprise as she appears with a tray of tea.
He calls down to her as we reach the top. ‘Leave it there. We’ll be right down.’
He slams the door behind us and crushes me against the wall, putting his hands at either side of my face. ‘This is getting too close for comfort. My mother’s friend is under threat and now you. And now, weirdly, and right after your Shakespeare extravaganza, even me. I want you to stay here for a while so I can keep an eye on you. No more arguments.’ His eyelids lower as his voice turns silky. ‘I heard from Eldon today. He’s enjoying the filming. He likes your kids. I held fire on the Kraik thing. I’d sooner talk to him face to face. But Billy’s back in town.’ He leans forward and brushes my lips with his own.
I stare up at him weakly. ‘I knew that. So?’
With a gleam he brushes me again. ‘So, they’ll need her apartment. So you’ll have to come here or you’ll be out on the street.’
I press my lips together, unbearably excited but unwilling to show it. ‘What about Eldon’s place? He must have one?’
I’m only kidding. Billy’s tiny apartment is only mine when she’s away and only then because she’s paranoid about leaving it empty. I’m supposed to be looking for a place, but somehow I’ve not got round to it. And coming here certainly solves the problem of where I’ll go …
Now he’s tilting up my chin and kissing all along my throat, his loins pressing hard into mine, his breath hot on my skin. ‘Eldon’s apartment? Very nice. Comes with full use of a purpose-built photographic studio, a gym and a spa.’ He drops soft kisses all along my neck as he lists its features. ‘Roof garden.’ He kisses me again. ‘She’ll love it.’
I arch my neck so he can reach more of me, thrilling to the light, elusive scent of his shampoo on his springy, fresh-washed hair. ‘So why do they need Billy’s?’
He works his way back up to my face and touches his lips to mine. ‘He lives in New York.’
As he plunders my mouth I kiss him back, yielding to his hungry tongue as he takes possession, his hands still flat on the wall
and trapping me in. He presses up against me, telling me how much he wants me in every flex of his powerful muscles, every thrust of his swelling erection where he grinds it against my lower belly. Soon I’m grinding back, kissing him like I’m starving, like I can’t taste enough of him fast enough.
With an effort he pulls away, his lips still moist from my kiss, his eyes liquid heat. ‘Shower?’
‘Later.’ I reach for his waistband and unfasten him a little way, easing the straining fabric away from the thrilling bulge that stiffens against my hand and juts into my belly.
‘Wait. Payback time. You’ve run up quite a tab lately. How about we clear the slate, Ms Dean?’
Startled, I catch my breath. ‘Slate? What kind of slate?’
He grins. ‘Where do I start? A false call-out to a fake stalker, bed and board to keep you out of trouble both real or imaginary, the exquisite torture of having to watch your highly spankable little ass making its pretty way up my staircase and through doorways with no chance of me seeing to it. Shall I go on?’
‘It sounds like an awful lot.’ Every syllable of his low, breathy recital, his voice rich as chocolate and thick with desire, is making me melt. I press against him, sinuous with my need as a slow burn begins deep between my thighs. ‘So how do you want me to pay?’
His slow smile sends a tremor through me and I’m already weak at the knees when he pushes gently at my shoulders, freeing himself as I sink down, pushing my thighs apart to let in the cool air. Seconds later the monolith emerging from his trousers looms in my face.
‘Start with this. See what you can do. And if you’re worth it I’ll let you off all the other things that spring to mind.’
His voice rasps somewhere over my head as I breathe in the rich, clean aroma of his crotch, spicy down here in the confined space by the wall. He juts forward a couple of times as I take him in my mouth and he lets me taste him a little way before pushing me back with a deliberate thrust of his loins. Now my head’s jammed hard against the wall and he’s poised to take full advantage of my face – but still he holds off.
‘Reach up. Both hands.’ He clutches my wrists over my head, gripping them tightly together in one hand and touching my face gently with the other, his fingertips light.
I wince at the deliberate force in his grip, the knowledge that he’s already making me pay, seeking control. Should we be doing it like this? Should I even allow this? Should I be down here at all, burning up for him, already limp with need before we’ve even started? What is it about him? Or rather, what is it about me?
‘No touching.’ His low murmur sparks a pulse of excitement, derailing my feeble attempt to stay rational. ‘I can guess what you want to do down there in the dark. Keep all that for me. And keep your eyes on mine. I want to watch.’
I try to keep my eyes on his face as he thrusts but I soon give up. My eyes slowly close in private ecstasy as my own arousal starts to build, my unattended little nub starting to throb and yearn till my nipples pucker and stiffen, numb with want. Finally I yawn open my throat and he simply fucks my face, his need so obvious and so urgent I forgive him my aching mouth and my taut, stretched lips, and even the fierce grip on my imprisoned wrists.
Everything he does, every tiny movement he makes, sparks my flames. And the sooner he comes now, the longer he’ll take later – and then I’ll get my fun.
Payback time.
Later we eat. His housekeeper excels herself with paté on fingers of crisp toast, tender asparagus spears, mouth-watering chicken chasseur and tiny, cherry-topped petit fours for dessert. Darnley pours crisp, fragrant wine and allows me only a little, warning me with a fake frown that it’s a weekday and I’m working. When I pout playfully he fills my glass and warns me to go slow.
I exclaim over the food but he seems to think it’s normal.
‘So where do you actually live?’ I reach for another colourful morsel from the silver platter and nibble cautiously, biting the cherry with tiny nips of my teeth. He follows every move. His intent gaze is still working on me. I feel a faint answering throb from down below. ‘You own a house in town and this place? How many other places do you own?’
‘Apart from here? I’m considering a place in New York, but with Eldon and my parents already there it hardly seems worth it. I use an apartment in London when I’m in Europe and I’ve got a beach house in California. Mostly I use hotels. In a business like mine I have to be flexible.’
I frown. ‘You’ve got two places in Boston? But when we met you were staying in a hotel.’
‘I always stay in a hotel when we host an event. I do a lot of business over breakfast.’ He shrugs at my enquiring look. ‘People have their guard down. I get the best deals.’
He’s hedging, I can sense it. Why? Is he avoiding the small matter of Freda? Or the dungeon? I deliberately hold his gaze. ‘So why not live in your town house? Why move out here?’
His eyes flicker. ‘Enjoying your food?’
‘Darnley? Are you keeping me away from Freda?’
He looks away for a second and then seems to come to a decision. ‘We set up the dungeon together. I planned to use it and let her share.’ He looks troubled for a moment. ‘Then I met you.’
I hold my breath as I take this in. ‘And now?’
His gaze grows thoughtful. ‘Now – I’m not sure. Can we drop this? I’d sooner not talk about it. It’s – disturbing.’
Damn right, for me too. I have one last try. ‘Why? What was it about me that changed things? ’
‘It’s just – with you, it’s different somehow.’
‘How?’
‘Wilder.’ He holds my gaze, wiling me to react.
I can only stare. But soon his slow smile warns me he’s not done.
‘Finished stuffing that eager little mouth yet? I might have other plans for it.’
His plans are detailed and energetic and finally blend into bedtime.
Later, during the night, we surface and start over.
I could get used to this.
Before we finally fall asleep he murmurs drowsily in my ear. ‘Any plans for Halloween?’
I grin into the darkness. ‘Not since I was ten. Why? You going trick-or-treating?’
He kisses my shoulder. ‘My family has an annual bash in New York every Halloween. Thought I’d ask you early, before you’re snapped up by some other guy Will you come?’
I swallow, touched and suddenly wildly happy. ‘Sure. I’d love to. It’s a date.’
To my relief the rest of my week passes off quietly. Then Billy calls.
‘Willamina – hi. How’s tricks?’ I hold the phone away from my ear as she tells me, at length.
‘And soon I’m even getting paid.’
‘Oh, yeah? I’ve heard that before. You’re too good for them.’
‘No, really, I’ve been offered a junior post. Pretty good, huh?’ Her crisp tone warns me congratulations are in order so hastily I offer them. Privately I suspect her close links to the son of the firm’s head may have something to do with it.
‘And guess what? We’re shacking up.’
I catch my breath. ‘Really? That’s wonderful. But that means …’
She clears her throat. ‘Yep, I’ll need my apartment, honey. I’m so sorry. Can I help you find a place?’
I say smoothly that I’m fine. I spare her the detail, unwilling to tempt fate by overstating my new living arrangements. Luckily she’s too hyper to ask.
Before she rings off she mentions Halloween. It seems they’re going too. She chortles happily. ‘Should be a hoot. I’ve got Eldon hard at work on our costumes. We’re going to shock everybody.’
As she rings off I grin. Halloween’s still weeks away and already she’s got everything organised – even Eldon.
When I finally arrive at Darnley’s place the mansion seems quiet. I hear music from somewhere upstairs and make my way slowly up to his room. He’s out on the balcony, stunning in dress-down shirtsleeves and folded-back cuffs, the bronze colu
mn of his neck an enticing contrast to the crisp white of his shirt where his collar parts at the base of his throat.
A light breeze ruffles his hair. He looks good enough to eat. But something’s wrong. He’s talking fast and low into his phone, his tone angry. And now I see what I missed earlier, in my excitement to see him after a hard day at work. His free hand is clutching the balcony, his knuckles white.
‘I told you, I’ve no fucking idea how it happened or what he meant. And don’t you ask him. I need to do that. You’ll just fuck him up even more than you have already.’
There’s an angry hiss from the phone and then he speaks again, louder now. ‘Drop it, Dad, for crissake. I said, I’ll talk to him –’ He breaks off as he sees me. ‘Ella’s here. Talk later.’
He folds one arm tight around my waist to pull me close. In silent greeting I nuzzle deep into his neck and breathe in his thrilling, cologne-laced Darnley aroma. He’s still rigid with fury, but as he slips the phone into his pocket he kisses me deep for long, luscious moments and then leads me slowly back indoors. And now I notice something else I missed in my rush to greet him. There’s a familiar box open on the side. In it, bathed in a shaft of late September sunshine, I see the glint of the bracelets.
‘What was all that about?’ I speak low. Instantly I see a twist at the corner of his mouth.
‘That? That was me talking to my dad. That’s how we always talk. Since Kraik we’ve been pretty well at war for most of our lives.’
‘Why? I thought the family were pretty much agreed about him.’
His face contracts for a second as his tone grows bitter. ‘Sure, in principle. But there’s other stuff. Like, we all want to protect Eldon, but we’ve got different ideas about how to do that. Plus they’ve got issues too. That kind of stuff runs deep. Welcome to my life, Ella.’
He walks over to the side table and lifts the costly bracelets out of their case. When he turns back I see a new gleam in his eyes. ‘Never mind all that. Now we’re on Wolfe Time.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
As Darnley fastens the bracelets on my wrists I’m already burning up. Why does this excite me so much?
