by Flora Dain
I get increasingly edgy. And I notice other things now – the glances the family give each other, the clipped tones when they approach Darnley. It’s like they’re in the middle of some massive row and the Ball is just a fleeting distraction.
In Darnley’s arms I try to shake off the feeling when we start dancing close. Soon I’m hardly aware of the people round us. All at once he stops dancing and looks down at me, his eyes glittering strangely from behind his mask. ‘Ella, remember your poetry thing in Charlotte?’
‘And how.’ I shudder and manage a grin. His rescue when I froze at my poetry reading was spectacular and timely. I still shiver when I think of it.
Dancers whirl past us as his voice lowers. His face is solemn, his gaze oddly intent. I feel a sudden twinge of real alarm and all my fears rush back. I was right.
Something’s wrong.
‘I’m calling in a favour. At midnight we unmask for the costume competition. Whatever happens, I want you to smile. And keep smiling. Promise?’
I smile now, puzzled but increasingly uneasy. I lean up to kiss his jaw, hoping to reassure him. ‘Sure. Anything.’
His eyes narrow. ‘It’s important. I’ll explain later. Promise me.’
My smile fades. ‘OK. I promise.’
At that moment there’s a drum roll from the orchestra and midnight chimes out from the loudspeakers at the end of the room. A cheer goes up at the explosion of streamers and party-poppers as balloons float down from the ceiling and the guests trample them and embrace.
I cling to Darnley, worried now as we unmask and kiss. He keeps firm hold of my waist, looking over my shoulder as we pull away and shifting his focus to the stage.
Now Aaron walks solemnly up onto the stage to announce the results of the costume competition. He reads them in reverse order. First a giant chicken with a placard walks up – it’s some joke from the Lautner Wolfe office, a junior employee happy to highlight a recent case he turned down. The placard informs us he was scared he’d lose – and instead he lost the firm a big commission. Luckily, seeing the funny side looks set to revive his career and his former boss claps him on the back and says so, to gales of laughter from the audience. He wins a voucher for a ski-trip.
Next Aaron scans the crowd. ‘And the next prize goes to – Red Sox and Yankees – friendly at last!’ Billy squeaks with excitement and jumps up and down. Eldon grins and drags her after him up to the stage to get their prize, a bottle of champagne.
I see Lydia purse her lips.
Other prizes are read out, some funny, some valuable. All seem suited to the costumes. I clap and cheer with the rest but when I gaze up at Darnley my happy smile dies on my lips. He looks dreadful – haunted.
‘Darnley?’ Is he sick?
Now the winners are being announced but I‘m barely listening. ‘Beauty and the Beast.’
When the spotlight pools around us I’m still peering up at him. ‘Are you OK?’ My hiss is lost in the roar of applause.
He licks his lips, not looking at me. ‘Smile, Ella. You promised.’
I do it, terrified. What’s he doing?
His eyes are wild. ‘Keep smiling.’
The noise around us is deafening. He takes my hand, but now my alarm turns to real fear. His hand is cold.
We walk up to the stage into the full glare of the lights and to a roar from the crowd. Aaron kisses me, shakes hands with his son and presents us with our prize – a crate of champagne.
Darnley immediately announces it’s to be shared round the guests and the crowd cheers again. Then he holds up his hand for silence. After a few more bangs and pops and a drunken cheer or two he gets it.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, this seems a suitable time to make an announcement. As you know, Ella and I have grown very close lately. And I can honestly say that without her here beside me tonight I’d never have had the guts to come up here and say this.’
His deep, rich voice fills the room. My smile stays firmly in place, as instructed. But, as he talks on, my heart slowly turns to ice, my fairy-tale to nightmare.
‘So I’m stepping aside from the day-to-day running of my companies and going it alone. I’ll be mostly under the radar and mostly abroad. Hilary, my PA, will relay any messages. So for now I’ll just say thanks for the party – it was great while it lasted. Good luck and goodbye.’
By now my smile is frozen in place, a rictus of terror. Around us the ballroom has fallen silent, faces blank with shock. Someone starts to clap but the ripple of scattered applause dies away into doubtful mutters.
He’s one of the most successful people here – in a group of people famous for it and in the heart of a family with success in their blood. I can see from their faces that most people here understand far better than I do the importance of what he’s just said.
He’s walking away from his companies. But why?
All I know is he’s in trouble, or he’s sick. Like his animal namesake, he instinctively seeks the shadows.
He hugs me close, kisses me on the forehead and whispers low. ‘Keep smiling. Please, Ella. Make them think you knew all along. I’ll explain later.’
Obediently I smile up at him, tears stinging behind my eyes. It’s a terrible effort. With a final nod to me and a wave to the now silent crowd he turns on his heel, walks down the steps and strides out of the ballroom.
Now he’s walked away from me, too. I stare after him in despair.
He’s flipped. It’s the only rational explanation.
He works too hard. It’s been getting to him, and seeing my play brought back the past in all its horror and it’s finally freaked him out.
He’s borne the weight of it all these years, pushed it all below the surface. Now, after all this time, it’s got to him.
Because of me.
It’s my fault. I should have seen this coming. Why, oh why, didn’t I make him see a shrink? And now he’s sick.
Slowly I make my way down the steps, alone now, a Beauty bereft of her Beast, perhaps for ever. But he asked me to smile, so I do it. It was the very last thing he asked me to do, and I promised. And I owe him.
At the foot of the steps smiling gets harder. Guests flock around me, shocked and curious. Billy looks pale. She knows me well and sees something’s very wrong. Aaron and Lydia are furious at this sudden turn of events pooping on their party. They round on me, their faces contorted, their voices angry. To my horror I sense real fear behind their furious glances. I know enough about their past to guess that deep down Darnley’s rocked some carefully constructed boat.
This is a family with secrets … I expect to see real panic in their eyes but to my surprise there’s only resignation, like something bad they were dreading just happened.
Their low whispers hiss with anger. ‘What’s going on, young woman? You could have warned us. How long have you known? This was no time to stage a stunt like this …’
I’ve no idea what they’re talking about. I’m still in shock. Their voices fade and their faces start to swim. I realise I’m giddy.
I try to pull myself together and keep smiling calmly around at them, but what can I say? I know even less than they do …
At that moment Bullen appears at my elbow and steadies me, his cliff-face even stonier than usual, his arm like granite. Instantly the others back off.
Like their leader, all Darley’s men have a presence. He murmurs low in my ear. ‘The car’s out back, ma’am. If you’d come with me.’
He steers me away through a maze of corridors to the back of the building. A bowing footman ushers us through a fire exit into the delivery area.
Out here it’s chilly. I shiver as the car door swings open and Bullen holds it steady for me to clamber in. He slams the door and gets in the front passenger seat next to the driver. As we pull away into the traffic I feel a blast of warm air from the heating system and huddle into the corner.
He swivels round in his seat. ‘Back to the hotel, ma’am? Or do you want to go on somewhere else?’
Alone in New York, after midnight on Halloween? Where can I go? My fairy magic vanished with Darnley’s retreating back. Now I’m just a shivering teacher, dressed in a costly froth of floating chiffon.
Beauty’s turned into a pumpkin.
‘Thank you, Bullen. The hotel will do just fine.’
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The drive back is short but painful. Fun is everywhere. Merrymakers line the streets as they break away from the throng gathered for the ball-drop in Times Square and go in search of parties or head for nightclubs and bars, still in masks. Pumpkins grin at me from shop windows, mocking my misery.
I’d no idea he was so ill. To turn his back on everything he’s built up and in the heart of his family … and I thought I was helping.
How could I have been so blind?
Bullen seems extra attentive. Maybe it’s the blank look on my face or the stony pallor of my reflection in the car windows. Or maybe it’s just his warm touch on my chilly skin that warns me I’m still in shock.
He sees me to the door of our suite, gently prises the keycard out of my icy fingers and slots it in the door. I watch as he twists the handle and slips the keycard back into the top of my purse as I step inside.
As it closes behind me I stand very still. In our suite the lights are on. I can hear music, a slow number by some old blues singer, her voice full of pain and grainy with history.
‘Why do you say it if you don’ mean what you say?’
Darnley. He’s here.
As I walk into the suite he appears in the far doorway, his shirt loosened, his shirtsleeves pushed back.
He holds out his arms. ‘Ella. Where the fuck have you been? I thought you’d never get here.’
A day is a short time to make a long journey and not feel any effects. I’ve gone from the heights of happiness to the depths of despair and back again. As I launch myself into his arms I’m emotionally jet-lagged.
I want to kiss him and hit him and rage at him for not telling me.
I want to smother him with love.
He’s here, large as life – when I thought for one ghastly minute he’d walked out of my life for ever. I thought what I’d dreaded more than anything was coming back to an empty room. But seeing him now I know what I dread most is life without him.
He holds me tight, his heart beating against mine, almost as fast and almost as loud. After a moment he pulls away and smiles down at me. ‘Forgive me. I know that was a shock. I was in two minds about it all evening. I guess I hoped it would never happen.’
I dash away a tear and sniff. ‘You could have warned me. What will you do? Where are you going?’
What I really mean is what about me? But I know it’s way too soon to ask that. For him this is a big moment, a real life change. Maybe just now I don’t count for very much.
‘I wanted to. Every time I got close it seemed to make it too real, somehow. So. What am I doing? For now let’s just say I need to detach myself from my core business.’ He hesitates for a moment. ‘In this field gadgetry dates fast, so it’s a good time. The future is in analysis and overview, integrating systems, maybe across borders. I’ve got the contacts and the expertise but until it’s up and running I’m breaking loose from the techno side to minimise risk to the original company. Where? I’ll be mostly abroad, mostly undercover and usually at short notice. At this level clients expect blanket confidentiality so I’ll need to keep a low profile.’
He kisses me on the forehead, teasing away stray tendrils of my hair. ‘And all that’s strictly confidential. And that includes family. If anyone asks, be vague. You’ll learn more tomorrow. And in case you thought I’d forgotten –’ his voice lowers to a thrilling new note ‘– you’re still wearing the bracelets.’
It’s been a long day. I’m expecting him simply to unlock them and then turn in. The strain of the last few weeks is etched on his jutting cheekbones, glittering in his eyes. If it’s been a shock for me I dread to think what the last few weeks have done to him.
My wrists flash and sparkle in the low lighting. He fingers the line of the cuffs where my slim bone juts out, his expression thoughtful. His other hand slides up the soft inner skin of my arm. At his touch my heart leaps and my lower belly contracts as a slow burn of arousal glows into warm gold.
The glimmer in his eyes tells me the hour may be late but the night is young. ‘We have an arrangement.’
His low murmur sends a shiver through me. The dim lighting sharpens his angled, intelligent face into something menacing and predatory.
All evening I’ve watched the power of his charm as he worked the room, drawing all eyes, holding one group’s attention long after he’s moved on to another. Now he turns it on me full force. I’m as powerless in its blast as straw in a furnace.
His low murmur makes my blood tingle. ‘The bracelets came with conditions. Remember? Plus –’ He pauses, troubled.
‘Plus?’ I prompt, gently.
He frowns. ‘I need this, Ella. Right now – I really need it.’ His face contracts.
My heart melts. Of course he needs it. ‘Maybe I need it too,’ I whisper. I slide off the bed and kneel before him, head bowed, hands at my back, thighs apart. ‘How do you want me, sir?’
There’s a long pause. I wait, holding my breath. If this doesn’t work there may be no way back to him. How can I tell what he wants? I’m new at this …
‘Seriously?’ He eyes me for a moment.
I see a twitch at the corner of his mouth.
‘I want you in restraints. But until we can do what I really want to do we’ll do this. Get on all fours.’
I keep my head low and pray this won’t get too kinky too fast.
‘Crawl over to the rug and crouch down in the middle.’
As I get there he’s already towering over me, his swelling erection both a warning and a thrill. He’s tense now as he starts to direct me into position. I can sense his excitement building as he makes me kneel up and then bend right over low so my cheek’s on the floor and my arms spread out either side. I’m packed tight as a snail and I’m nervous.
My rear end is high in the air and my most private places thrust high up too. Everything usually hidden from view is easy to reach, no way to hide it. I feel cool air on places no air ever finds …
Now his voice purrs over me as he starts to fondle my backside. I can see one of his feet, the fleece of the rug curling over his clean, firm toes. He shed his shoes and socks a while back and he’s naked to the waist but he’s still wearing trousers.
I’m still in my Beauty costume, minus my panties. Wispy chiffon was no help at all at covering my all-too-obvious arousal as my nipples jutted through it, dark and swollen. My lady patch, trimmed but still visible, clearly showed at the apex of my legs.
Now I’m curled over, bent low and only my quivering rump and my deepest privacies are on view. He’s stroking me, trying to calm me down. He pauses a moment to squeeze lube on his palms. He slicks them together, the sound startlingly loud in the warm cushion of silence all round us.
‘Can you guess what’s coming? No, maybe not. First I’m going to lube you up and then I’m coming in. But I mean to make absolutely sure you appreciate the delicate position you’re in. So you’ll get a short, sharp spanking to get you in the mood. No crying out, or you’ll get double. And I’ll use a strap.’
A what? I’m still asking the question when it lands, a fierce sting on my still tender ass that jolts me fully awake. Outraged, I grit my teeth to take the next five in silence but to my relief the blows are slow and lingering, but softer.
Even so, each shock is scary. I’ve no idea what’s coming or how it will feel. By the last one I’m shaky again and horny as heck. As if to torment me even more he runs a finger all round my gaping places, his fingertip warm and arousing, the lube mingling with my want to make his touch ultra-magnetic.
I hold my breath, waiting eagerly, almost quivering with longing, for that one touch I crave on my pulsing, swollen little
place … but it never comes. Instead he starts to explore me, his fingers slithering into each and every intimate little fold, making my whole lower region as live as electricity and slick as an eel.
And now I feel the heat of his lips as he stoops to kiss me on both cheeks of my rear. He holds me firmly by the hips as his eager mouth travels south along my exposed places, teasing me with light kisses until his tongue finally reaches my money-spot.
Seconds ago my climax neared its peak during my cruel but mercifully brief spanking. Now it throbs again, eager for another merciful touch from his tongue.
‘Someone feels more than ready down there. Now let’s see how fast they can come.’
With a low growl his hands steady me in position and he surges deep inside me. At this angle I’m so tightly packed my muscles clutch at him repeatedly, the pressure of his shaft in my tightly bundled torso ramming me into submission more completely than any restraints.
He pounds again and again, his tackle rasping hard on my open gap and the violence of his thrusts doing the rest. As I come I grunt, the sound muffled in the rug as hot rapture floods through me, carrying me off onto some blissful sea. I convulse with the spasms, tightly constrained by my position. I’m so absorbed I hardly notice as he pounds harder and faster, slowing only at his peak. He gives a great bellow of pleasure and then he comes too.
I’m still firmly wedged but aching now. At long last he unlaces me from my tight curl of submission and we stretch out together on the rug, me aching, giggling and euphoric, him stern and watchful.
As I calm down he keeps his voice low as he strokes my hip, his hand slow and calming like I’m some wayward animal. ‘Hey. We’re not done.’ He holds me close while we talk about the evening and laugh about some of the costumes. Soon he grows quiet, his manhood stirring again. I can feel it move gently against my leg and I see his eyes darken.
‘No more talking. Put your arms up.’
I hear the rip of foil and all at once we’re back on the dark side. He pins my wrists to the floor, locks his gaze on mine and slides in deep. I wind my legs round his back and we move together, fused and focused.
