I went back to England and for six months I laid my plans down, carefully, meticulously. I took advantage of the fact that though Saul trusted no one, other than maybe his mother, he had made the mistake of underestimating me. He thought I was a sapling clinging to his mighty branches. He paid for his error dearly. I avenged my father’s death in the gangster’s way.
An eye for an eye. A life for a life.
For four years I had sat quietly in the background and absorbed the workings of Saul’s little empire. No one knew it better than I. So I was confident I could take it. The sycophants never saw me coming. I behaved in the only way the power structure understood. Extreme violence. I exerted my will, established myself as top dog, and quickly took control.
But I desired a different organization.
One of the first things I did was sit down with BJ Pilkington and his father. Our families were in a generational feud, and they were not happy to be drawing up territories with me, but even they understood that I meant business. Ruthlessly I trimmed and cleaned up the organization. There would be no more dealing in class A drugs, no more human trafficking, no more prostitution, and no more loan sharking.
I reduced the rate but kept the protection racket going since abandoning it would have created a dangerous power vacuum. Besides, we would need it for the gambling dens and the clubs. I kept the contraband going too, because I’m a gypsy after all, and I have an aversion to paying taxes. Plus I’m really, really good at it.
I found myself a genius of an accountant and I started buying up properties in the most sought after areas of London through perfectly legal shell companies. And whenever possible I invested in Internet start-ups. Only two out of every twenty ventures were successful, but they were cheap to get into, they were great for washing dirty money, and when they were successful the rewards were astronomical. My best venture I sold for forty million.
Two years after that fateful trip I went back to Vegas to look for Indigo. I was the rich man she had predicted. I felt nothing for her but pure gratitude. I wanted to set her up so she could sing her songs without being a puppet of the industry. This time I didn’t walk. I was driven in a limo to that bar. The sign still proclaimed cold beers, but a different barman served me.
I described her.
‘Sorry, man. We’ve never had a singer here as far as I know. And I’ve been here near a year now,’ he said.
Ah, Indigo. I only want to give you what you deserve: FAME, FAME, FAME.
I tried looking for her through various detective agencies, but she had left nothing but a stage name. And that was too cold a trail to follow even for the best money. In the end I had to give up. She was not meant to be found.
I thought I’d never see an angel again in my life. Until the day I came down a set of steps in my brother’s club and saw Lily Hart. Here was another woman to change my life.
If she is not an angel then she is the devil in disguise.
Quote
-Just gonna stand there and watch me cry,
But that’s alright
Because I love the way you lie
I just love the way you lie—
Chapter 45
Lily
For a few seconds I simply stare at him in shock. It’s a sight I never thought I’d see. The great Jake Eden wasted and lolling on the floor of a hotel corridor. He attempts to straighten himself by pushing his palms to the floor and fails. There is something boyish and endearing in his futile attempt. Resting on his elbows he looks up at me and wriggles an eyebrow.
‘There’s a whole closet of sex toys we haven’t tried yet,’ he says and grins seductively.
I shake my head in a disbelieving daze. ‘I’ve booked a cab. I have to go,’ I whisper.
He blinks up at me. ‘I thought you wanted to see me in handcuffs.’
‘I don’t,’ I reply tightly.
‘Could have fooled me.’ His voice is rolling and mellow.
I take two steps forward and crouch in front of him. His breath reeks of alcohol and his eyes are glazed. ‘Well, you’re wrong,’ I say softly.
‘No? Well, I’d like to cuff you to my bed.’ His hand comes up and strokes my face clumsily. ‘I don’t care if you’re a cop, Lily. I just want you to stay.’
The graceless, unrehearsed gesture throws me. Oh God! How much I want to stay. But I have to leave. He is intoxicated and does not know what he is saying. I still remember the cold look in his eyes before he closed the door in the early hours of the morning and went away leaving me naked and frighteningly alone.
Confused and conflicted, I stand up. To put some distance between us I take a step back and cross my hands over my waist.
His right hand comes out to curve around my ankle. He slides his hand up my leg. ‘Such soft skin. Like a baby,’ he croons.
I have to make my exit, but I can’t leave him in the corridor in this state. I have to get him into the room before I go.
‘Can you stand?’ I ask him.
‘I was born standing.’
He is amusing in this state, but my cab will arrive in about thirty minutes. I reach down, take his hand and try to heave him up, but he is a dead weight. I sink down next to him.
‘Come on, Jake, help me. We have to get you inside the room.’
He laughs carelessly. ‘Take your panties off.’
‘Stop it, Jake.’
‘Just take them off and stand over me with your legs spread so I can look up your skirt into that delicious velvet darkness.’
‘I’m not doing that.’
‘Then I’m not going into the room,’ he says, his jaw set into a stubborn line.
‘I can’t believe how drunk you are.’
He looks at me, his eyes not properly focused. ‘Drunk is when you are over the edge. I’m not there yet. I know exactly where I am and what I am doing. Besides it is not pertinent to our discussion.’
‘Well, I’m not taking my panties off and standing over you so you can look up my skirt.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because anyone could come along!’
He chuckles. ‘That’s the best bit. The fear of discovery always makes you come faster.’ He slides his hands between my legs and rubs the silken crotch of my panties. His eyes glitter as his hand finds that despite my prudish objection I am already aroused by the thought. And it hasn’t escaped him that I haven’t swatted his hand away either. He strokes the damp material and smiles triumphantly.
‘Come on, be a devil. Just one little lick. I’m dying to get my tongue inside you.’ His eyes are half closed and heavy with drink and desire. I can feel myself getting more and more turned on, the material he is digging into becoming soaked.
‘One little lick,’ I say sternly.
‘Scout’s honor.’
‘And then you come with me into the suite?’
‘Cross my heart and hope to die,’ he promises solemnly.
I stand and quickly take my panties off while he watches. Wordlessly, he holds his hand out and I put them into it. While he clumsily pockets them I furtively look right and left. The corridor is empty so I take a step forward and stand over him with my legs spread.
He looks up and smiles broadly. ‘I could die now and be happy.’ He raises his eyes up to mine. ‘Now squat on my face.’
I lean my palms on the wall in front of me and lower my hips until my sex is close enough to touch his mouth. Turns out it is not one little lick he wants after all. He captures my clit between his teeth so I am trapped into that horribly gauche position.
‘One little lick you said,’ I remind desperately.
His hands slide up my thighs and grip my bare buttocks firmly.
‘I lied,’ he says airily and starts sucking my clit.
‘I’ve got a taxi coming,’ I cry urgently, but the sensations that are coming from between my legs make me moan and grind myself against his teeth. I can always get another taxi. And then another voice, much stronger, says, What happens when he sobers up? What happens
when Mills and the boys at the department find out? The thought is like a bucket of cold water in my face.
With all my strength I wrench myself away from him and stepping out of his reach stare at him panting, aroused, and terrified. ‘Right, you’ve had your fun, now let’s get you in,’ I say shakily.
He holds his hand out meekly, and I take it and pull him up. He comes so easily I realize he never needed my help.
‘You OK?’ I ask.
‘Never felt better.’
I help him to the bed. He falls on it and purposely brings me with him. With him on top of me he gazes into my eyes.
‘So you are planning to leave, huh?’
‘I thought you wanted me to anyway,’ I whisper.
‘Yeah, sure. You’re one strange gal, Lily.’
‘Why did you walk out then?’
He gives a bark of laughter. ‘I wanted to see what you would do. I didn’t realize it would take you so long to make your move.’ He rolls off me and lying on his back brings out a packet of cigarettes from his shirt pocket.
I frown. ‘You don’t smoke?’
‘I do…in times of extreme provocation.’ He lights it and inhales deeply. He blows out the smoke and turns to me. ‘I smoked a pack a day until I was nineteen.’
So much I don’t know about him. ‘What did you do when you left here?’
He makes an amused noise. ‘I sat outside the room and called down and got someone to bring me a bottle and some cigarettes. They’re very good here. They wanted to bring me a glass as well, but I told them not to bother.’
There is ash gathering at the end of his cigarette, and I move to find a saucer or something to use as an ashtray, but he immediately tightens his hold on my wrist. ‘Where do you think you’re going, young lady? I haven’t had my way with you yet.’
I put my mouth close to his ear. ‘Isn’t your dick a bit too limp for that?’
He laughs, a lovely deep rumble, then puts his mouth to my ear and whispers, ‘I’m rock hard and hungry for you, babe.’
Suddenly my body feels tight and jittery. ‘Really?’
‘It’s a done deal. All nine inches.’
I can’t help, but smile.
‘Try it and see.’
I lean back and look into his eyes. They are hazy, almost smoky with sensuality and seductive promise. I run my hand over the material of his crotch. Indeed the man is rock hard. My body instantly responds. My mouth is dry. I lick my lips. ‘Let me go get an ashtray first.’
I find a glass on the coffee table and bring it back. Jake has taken his shirt off and is sitting slumped against the pillows. He is holding between his thumb and forefinger the black chip worth ten thousand pounds from Eden and is staring at it reflectively. His hair has fallen over his forehead and he looks up at me slowly. At that moment he doesn’t look drunk. Just devastated. Utterly devastated.
I stand frozen in the doorway.
It is impossible to tell what he is thinking. He takes a drag of his cigarette and blows it out slowly. He puts the chip on the side table and turns toward me. ‘Come in,’ he invites softly. ‘Because I’m dying to fuck you with my tongue.’
‘That’s so dirty,’ I say as I discard my skirt on the way to the four-poster. I climb onto the mattress, take the cigarette out of his mouth, kill it at the bottom of the glass, and position myself with my sex right slap bang on his mouth.
My back arches as he begins to devour me. I come quickly and intensely. When I look down into his eyes, they are almost black with desire. Leaning back I slowly rub my hand over his crotch. I pull my body away from his face and I start to take his trousers off.
‘I need to take a piss. Don’t go anywhere,’ he says.
I listen to the strong splash of his urine hitting the toilet bowl and I remember my nan saying, ‘You can tell a man’s health by the strength of his morning piss.’ Well, it’s confirmed. He’s one healthy man. I hear the tap running and then he comes back. There is still a little sway in his walk, but he seems more sober now.
He stands at the edge of the bed looking at me. ‘Every time I see that sexy little mouth of yours I just want to fuck it. I want to fuck it until it is all red and swollen and then I want to fuck it some more.’
And that is exactly what he does after he picks up the phone and cancels my taxi. He puts the phone down and fucks my mouth long and deep and then he finishes off in my pussy. There is no tenderness given and none asked. This is just lust. Pure lust. Both of us craving each other’s bodies and taking it hard and fast because we can’t have what we really want. At least that is true for me. What I want is shimmering in the distance. Way beyond my reach.
Afterward he lies beside me. I can see that the alcohol is shutting him down. He is valiantly fighting it, but the edge of a deep sleep is less than a blink away.
‘You’re going to have one hell of a hangover when you wake up.’
‘I’ll live,’ he mutters.
‘Go to sleep, Jake,’ I encourage.
‘Will you be here when I wake up?’
I pause. ‘Yeah.’
‘Don’t leave me, Lily, or Jewel, or whatever your real name is.’
‘My real name is Lily Strom,’ I whisper.
His eyes widen. ‘No, your name is Lily Eden,’ he murmurs.
I smile sadly, and he runs his fingertips along the curve of my hip. My body quivers at the delicate touch. My nipples come alive, hardening, darkening, tingling, calling. I stop thinking about anything else but him and the strong sensation that he is touching my very soul. The emotion is unbearably intense, maybe too intense. A tear leaks out of each corner of my eyes.
No matter how many obstacles, our bodies can always find each other. My brain says no, but my body tells me this man has to be part of my future. I have to find a way for us to be together. And staying here while I am confused and vulnerable is not the way. I need time to sort out what I am going to do about Mills, my job and my terrible guilt about the love I have for this man.
He stops stroking my hip and drags his thumb down the path of my tears. I swallow hard and blink. He puts his thumb into his mouth.
‘Salty,’ he pronounces.
I flash a wobbly smile.
‘Did you know that otters hold hands before they go to sleep so they don’t float away?’
I slip my hand into his and he tightens his hold on it.
He smiles and his eyelids droop. He forces them open. It’s a lost battle. Not long to go now.
‘The first time I saw you I thought you were an angel come to save me,’ he mumbles.
I say nothing, I just watch as he slips into a deep drunken stupor. I lie next to him for another few minutes watching him, listening to his even breathing. When his body is totally relaxed and dead to the world I slowly pull my hand out of his grip, but even though his entire body is limp as if passed from this world, his hand is clinging onto me like a claw. Gently, one by one I pry his fingers away. Very gently I kiss his forehead.
Quietly I get out of bed and into my skirt. I retrieve my panties from the pocket of his pants and go into the living room. On hotel stationery I write a note.
I’m not running away.
I just need a bit of time
to think and sort my head
out.
xx Lily
Then I softly close the door. I have a plane to catch. I am in such a daze that it is only when I am high in the sky that I realize I am still wearing both my engagement and wedding rings. I twist them around my finger in horror. I can’t believe I have left him. My body feels hollow where my heart should be.
Chapter 46
Lily
I clear customs in Heathrow and head straight for the payphones. I find one that is coin operated and lay my coins in a row along the metal ledge. I lift the receiver, pick up a pound, push it into the slot, and dial Robin’s number. His answering service clicks on and for a split second it occurs to me that I have done the wrong thing. In that split second I even consider termina
ting the call without saying anything, but then I hear myself speak.
‘Hey, Robin. No panic. Everything is just fine. Just touching base. Saying hello. Call you another day. Byeeee.’
I click the disconnect button quickly and close my eyes, full of regret, wishing I hadn’t called him. That was another mistake. My voice had been normal, cheery even, but while I was talking an announcement had been made. He will know I am calling from an airport and, being the bright button that he is, alarm bells will be going off as to why if all is well I would be calling him from an airport simply to say hello. With every decision I take I seem to be digging myself deeper and deeper into a hole.
On the spur of the moment I decide not to go back to the company flat, and instead take a taxi to my grandmother’s house. Staring unhappily out of the window I fret about whether to call my mother. I know I should, but ever since Luke died, she has become so fragile I have learned to either bear my burdens silently or take them over to Nan.
The driver drops me off outside her ground floor flat, and I go up to her blue door and ring the bell. Her little face appears at the window. I wave and she breaks into a massive grin. At that moment she is no longer a sprightly seventy-two-year-old woman, but a mere child.
In seconds her beaming face is at her open door.
She greets me in the traditional Chinese way, by asking me if I have eaten.
‘Yes,’ I reply automatically, but she bundles me energetically through the door past the Feng Shui cat with its waving arm, and into her small, rather dim kitchen. It has old-fashioned, dark wood furniture and the air smells of incense that has been lit in the red prayer altar of the Kitchen God, Zao Jun. In front of his statue she has left an offering: a blue bowl of oranges.
‘Sit, sit,’ Nan says, and starts filling her electric steamer with water.
‘I’m actually not hungry,’ I protest.
‘You’re never hungry,’ she grumbles. She switches on the appliance and turns around, her hands on her hips. ‘Look at you, as thin as one of those throw-away chopsticks.’ She narrows her eyes. ‘And have you been lying in the sun again?’
The Heir: A Contemporary Royal Romance Page 40
