“Have you?” He asked, head tilted in curiosity. “Grown happy with yourself, I mean.”
“I feel that I have,” she said with a nod. “Even if no one captures my heart, I'll at least be content with my own company.”
“You're right,” he said quietly, turning to rest his forearms on the balcony ledge as he looked out over the city with its bright lights and glimmering stars. “You absolutely have to be alright with yourself, before you try anything with anyone,” he laughed without mirth and drank some of his fresh flute of champagne. “I had finally made peace with myself, and I thought...” he grimaced, as he floundered for words.
“You thought that meant that you were ready to have someone by your side, and you rushed to find that someone.”
“That's...” he blinked owlishly at her. “Not an unfair way of putting it. I hadn't realized that was how I felt about it, but there it is.” She noted that his speech was achingly formal, and wondered if he had been forced to take speech classes. As long as he kept talking in that soft English accent of his, she didn't mind in the slightest.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“You're from Charles' business school days, right?” She asked. “When he attended a school in Salisbury?”
“The very same,” he said with a nod. “I have to admit, I was a bit surprised that he saw any point in going to a school so far away from his home, but I'm grateful for it; he's been one of my truest friends, and I feel as though I couldn't have asked for better council on matters.”
“He's always been like that,” she said with a laugh. “The whole reason he's the one set to inherit the business is because I didn't want to. He's always looked out for me like that.”
“He spoke of you before, mostly when you would have just hung up on a call with him back in college.” He laughed. “He was so pleasantly surprised that you sent him a care package of baked goods that he nearly cried into his brownies!”
“Oh!” She tittered a laugh behind her hand. “I had no idea those meant so much to him!”
“He insisted I try some of the things you made him,” Daryl said around another bout of chuckles. “I think it was so he wouldn't eat all of them.”
“Sounds like him,” she let her laughter die down with a sigh. “I haven't really baked anything since I sent him that package. I've mostly just gone spelunking in my spare time.”
“Spelunking?” He asked, eyes wide. “Like going to run down places and exploring?” She nodded. “That's incredible! But it must be dangerous!”
“Eh,” she shrugged. “I like to live on the wild side,” Clara said simply, slipping beside him against the railing, closer than they were before. “'After all, 'one way to get the most out of life is to look upon it as an adventure,'” Daryl threw his head back and let out a surprised laugh.
“Quoting William Feather on me? I was beginning to think no one else still read his work but me,” he chuckled again. “Consider me enamored,” his eyes widened. “I'm sorry, I didn't-”
“That's alright,” she smiled, “I'm more open to discussion with the real Daryl.” He smiled so broadly his eyes crinkled at the corners, and they continued their discussion. She smiled, listening intently to him mention some of his favorite literary works. Many of which, she realized with a start, weren't far off, or were, in fact, some of her favorites as well. Something akin to a knot of tension she hadn't realized had built up eased when she saw that they had several things in common.
“It's so refreshing to just talk about literature. I had no idea someone else enjoyed the deeper themes of the Hatter M series,” she said earnestly after she polished off her champagne. While she had been so adverse to speaking with him before, she found that she was steadily growing more relaxed with him, like they had known each other for years and could tell each other anything. The thought was as frightening as it was exhilarating, she had to admit.
“Oh, likewise,” he said with a decisive nod. “Besides Charles, I'm often stuck listening to older people drone on about the stock market, or their numbers for the quarter.” They chuckled softly.
“I'm so used to having to talk all business with my colleagues in the office, and when we aren't discussing business, I swear the only thing they want to talk about is how much they've been watching of the latest reality show! Why, it's enough that sometimes I just want to get away from it all,” she said with a sad, wistful smile.
“I can sympathize. Sometimes, it's all I can do not to just pack my bags, delegate all of my work, and buy a plane ticket to anywhere that isn't my office.” His heartfelt confession startled her, but she knew she felt that way more often than not after a long day at work- especially now that she had no one to tie her down. She gasped when he laid a warm hand on her arm. He sighed softly, mostly to himself. “Somewhere, along the way, we forget to try and find happiness outside of our work. And then, our work is all we have,” he looked into her eyes, really looked into her eyes, and she felt her walls begin to crumble. Damn him for his charms, and his stupid sexy accent! “I don't want to become that. Yet, any other time I've tried to let another in, they never stay because they share my interests – they always try to stay because I have money, and I'm a safe option,” He scrubbed a hand over his face, and she saw how much such things positively wore on him. Something in the hollow of her chest ached for him in that moment.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“I'm...always reluctant to let anyone else in,” she admitted, much to her surprise. “It's only been about a year since my last relationship, but...” she struggled to find the words. Finally, she opted to just explain what always held her back, so that he might understand. “He was my high school sweetheart. We had been together for all of high school, and we had grown up together.” She sniffled. “I was so sure it was going to be him and me, forever, but when it came time for us to part ways for college, he decided that he didn't want to be tied down.” He offered her a handkerchief, which she took with a soft, 'thank you,' before dabbing at her eyes.
“Do you miss him?” Daryl asked slowly. She barked out a harsh laugh.
“No, I don't miss him. But,” her face softened as her tears dried. “I miss not feeling lonely. But it's better than being burned again,” she happened to catch a glance at his watch from where his hand still rested over hers, and blinked in surprise at the time. She hadn't realized they had been talking there for almost two hours until she read out where the hands of his watch's face now rested. “Wow, it's late,” she said quietly, but they were standing so close now that he still heard it, prompting him to steal a glance at his watch as well.
“Huh, would you look at that,” he said, before winking at her. “Time flies when you're having fun,” she blushed but grinned back.
“Wanna get out of here? To your place, or mine?” She whispered in his ear salaciously. She watched his Adam's apple bob from how heavy his swallow was.
"I'm, ah,” she pressed a kiss to the exposed skin on his neck. “Not opposed, per se, but,” he cleared his throat. “Haven't you had quite a bit to drink? I don't want to take advantage,” her heart swelled at his thoughtfulness.
“That's incredibly kind of you, but no, I'm not drunk,” and it was true- she couldn't even feel the pleasant haze that alcohol gave her anymore. “It's been long enough that most of it is out of my system,” she grinned at him and took his hand in hers. “But it's more that I just want to get out of here. Come on,” she tugged him gently away from the balcony. “I've got a penthouse at the top of the building, and it's nice and quiet,” she laughed. “And I have more to drink than champagne!”
“An offer that I can hardly turn down!” He laughed. “But where did Charles wind up?”
“Probably flirting with one of the Bosinger twins – I think they've had a thing going for a while now.”
“I can't say that surprises me,” he said over the hushed din of the dance floor. “He always did gush over how lovely they were.” She caught one of the normal attendants on the way to the elevato
rs, one that was attached to the building, and not the ball on their way down the hall, and requested some fruit and tea be sent up to her loft. “Ohh, tea sounds brilliant,” he said as she called the elevator forth. “You're positively brilliant. Have I mentioned that?”
Chapter Thirty-Six
“I think it was brought up once,” she said with a laugh. “When you tried to get me by complimenting my work.”
“I did mean what I said that time,” he said earnestly as they stepped into the elevator, easing up to her until their sides were flush. She pressed the button for her loft, and the doors swished shut. “I admire what you're doing, and how much brilliance and creativity that takes.” She swallowed audibly when he brushed his knuckles across her cheekbone. “I think all of you is lovely.” She felt her face flush.
“Daryl,” she murmured as he lowered his face close enough to hers that she felt his breath fan over her face lightly. He was so close, all she would have to do was tilt her head just slightly, and she would feel his lips upon hers. Suddenly, he pulled back at the soft ding of the elevator informing them that they had arrived at the loft. She sucked in a shuddering breath to regain her bearings as she took her hand in his, and led him into the space.
It was something of a gift to her for her twenty-first birthday, from her mother, something that had started with Charles; he had a loft in one of the other skyscrapers their family owned, and she chose this one, for purely poetic reasons; this was the far more artistic building, set at the heart of the city, with windows wrapping all around to give her the best view of the city, in the city. The space was decorated well, and painted with cool colors of gray and blue, with soundproofing all around the space, allowing no sound to leave, though they could still faintly hear the strings from the ballroom wailing out a classical tune.
“I can appreciate the decorating,” he said softly, noting the wall hangings she had framed of classic games she grew up on that were tastefully placed in the living area of the open concept loft.
“Thank you,” she smiled. “I've worked to make the space my own – somewhere I can go to if I just want to...get away,” she turned to face him. “I want you to feel welcome here as well, when you're here.”
“That's rather sweet,” he smiled affectionately down at her. “Is there a restroom? I'd like to freshen up a bit.” She nodded.
“Just around the corner, through the door,” she said. “Would you like some of the tea that's on its way?”
“Oh, that'd be brilliant,” he said over his shoulder as he walked into the bathroom, shutting the door. While he was gone, she let her mind wander to how the night took an unexpected turn, and where that left her, and her options for how things ended from here.
Her reverie was cut short with a sharp knock at the door to her loft. One of the wait staff was calling to her that the refreshments she requested were here. With a shaky sigh, she opened the door to let the young woman in. One of the wait staff, a woman about Clara's age, came in with a tray of a veritable amount of different types of fruits, and a kettle filled to the brim with fresh hot English breakfast tea, one of her favorite blends. She took the tray from the employee, thanking the woman and giving her a generous tip for her trouble. If the woman noticed that Clara seemed off, she didn't comment on it, opting to rather thank her for the tip Clara gave her for her extra work, and told her to rest for the remainder of the night. The girl had wished her a good night, and promptly left. She had shut the door and set the tray on the kitchen area's marble counter top when Daryl came back out from the bathroom.
“Ah, English breakfast tea! Can't go wrong with that blend,” she pulled out two mugs for them, and he poured them both steaming cups of the brew. She thanked him and guided him over to her plush chaise lounge, where they sat and began to munch on some of the fresh fruit.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“What happens now?” She breathed, still intoxicated from the romantic tension between them, and how badly she wanted him to kiss her. Or for her to kiss him. Whichever was going to happen first.
“We talk,” he said, as if this were a perfectly normal setting, and she hadn't dragged him up to her private quarters in the middle of a charity ball. She made a mental note to donate more than she usually did to this particular charity. “And you decide how far this is to go tonight; you've let me into your private space, so you set the limits. I'll not do a single thing you're uncomfortable with.” Although this was all new to both of them, his words were reassuring to her; this was only going to go as far as they were both comfortable with taking things, and that was the most important part to her, that they made these choices together.
“Very well,” she nodded. She heard more than seen him shift to take a seat beside her, so distracting were her thoughts. His leg was warm against hers, and the fabric of his dress pants was clearly more expensive than what she was used to on her personal budget.
“Tell me of your thoughts. Your troubles.” She frowned.
“I don't-” what could he possibly be after?
“You're lonely. I can certainly sympathize with that; I have no siblings, and my parents are gone.” She flinched, not realizing that he had no parents left to speak of. “I also know how it's like when you're silently suffering through something. No one bothers coming to you to see if you're alright, so you bottle it all away: your stress, your worry, your pain...” she shivered when gloved hands lightly brush her thigh. “...Your desires. They all stay in here, locked away in your head,” the hand left her thigh to brush away some of her stray hair. “So tell them to me, darling.” So she did. In hushed tones, they talked of her deepest regrets, her frustrations with her mother and her expectations, her games that she's been developing, herself. They talked of her loneliness, what drove her to even entertain the notion of this dalliance.
All the while, his touches are feather light, and non-committal; she feels his leg press against hers. He caresses her shoulder, her arm, her leg, all are meant to soothe and entice her all at once, and she's loathe to admit that it's successful, but the ache in between her legs was steadily turning into a physical hurt. Finally, a brush of fingers on her thigh traveled just high enough that she couldn't swallow the moan it drew out of her.
“It seems talking isn't all you want tonight,” His chuckle was hot against her ear. She shivered when tender fingers coaxed her robe to tumble off of her shoulders and leave her in her sheer finery. She pulled her hands free of the sleeves that had pooled around her wrists, but he caught them before they could wander too far. “But I'll still not touch any further without your word. This starts and stops with you, my dear.” She nodded, not trusting her throat to not clog with want of it all.
“I...ah...” she said softly. What was she going to say, and how on earth was she going to say it without scaring this wonderful man away?
“It seems I've overwhelmed you,” he said regretfully. “Why don't I step outside, check in with my assistant, and give you some time? I don't want to push you into anything at all.” He rose before she could get her thoughts together, and made a swift exit, phone pulled out of his pocket to call his assistant.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Alone once more, she perched herself on her chaise lounge and sipped her tea while she mulled her thoughts over. On one hand, she could easily laugh it all off and they could part as friends. Whatever it was that was clearly between them would, however, likely end there, and any chance at seeing whatever this could become would end with it. She plucked a strawberry from the tray and chewed on its sweet flesh thoughtfully.
On the other hand, she could articulate her feelings and wants on the subject of them becoming more, and see what happened. Worst case scenario, she simply sits there until he comes out, laughs at her until he leaves, and she feels like a fool for the rest of her life. 'Or,' an insidiously bold voice whispered in the back of her mind. 'You get to feel the touch of a man like you haven't had in years.' She chose a blackberry next, and popped it into her mouth. A Marion
blackberry, she realized at its sudden tartness assaulted her tongue. She promptly chased it with a cherry.
She wasn't sure if she was feeling adventurous, or if she was lonely enough to feel like she was feeling adventurous, but she rose from her place on the chaise lounge, her mind made up. Unzipping the back of her dress, she stepped out of the lovely thing, scooping it up and discarding it off to the hamper to wash later. She stepped out of her shoes, gasping in surprise at how cold the hard wood floor was in the area just outside where the rugs touched. All that remained was her breast band and undergarments now. After only a moment's hesitation, she stepped out of her underwear and unlaced her band, toeing them near the hamper.
Now laid bare to bathe in the pale moonlight, she walked over to her armoire, and began to shuffle through it. After a few moments of fumbling, she lifted a thin chemise out of the drawer for inspection. The fabric was a heather gray thing made of gossamer and lined with Persian blue lace and ribbons. She lifted the chemise and let it fall over her naked body, the sensation of the fabric sliding against her skin making her nipples harden. The stimulation was enough to make her hiss with want, fingers already dancing up her ribcage to touch and tease the pert peaks.
She allowed herself a few moments of simply standing there, fingertips pinching and tweaking her oversensitive nipples and sighing in bliss. She caught herself before one of her hands began to wander lower, and reluctantly forced her hands away; she still had work to do, after all. Finally, she pulled on an open black silk robe before draping herself over her chaise lounge, waiting for him to finish in the outside hallway.
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