by F. C. Clark
‘Ready, Kate?’ Luke joins me, set for business.
‘Yes.’ I smile, excited at the prospect of the day ahead – alone.
He reaches inside his jacket and passes me an envelope.
‘You will need euros.’
I frown.
‘No, thank you.’
‘What do you mean, no thank you? I suspect you don’t have any euros.’
‘No, I don’t, but I’m sure I can get some.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Irritation makes Luke inhale deeply. ‘Your issue with money appears to be rearing its head again. It’s pointless you paying the exchange rate when I’ve already done so.’ I refuse to change my mind, and he knows he’s lost. ‘Fine, pay me back when we return to London.’
I take a deep breath and sigh as he does have a point – unfortunately. ‘I will pay you back.’
‘Good. Can we leave now?’
Mr ‘I own the world’ Sutton hands me an envelope, clearly agitated by the discussion.
We take the lift in silence. I wonder if I blow hot and cold too. I begin to ask him about the suite.
‘Why do you always have a suite?’
‘I love the view, and it’s the best room they have here.’ He looks at me.
‘I know you’re a gazillionaire but I’m sure you don’t need two rooms?’ Or does he? Shit, he normally brings someone with him. I wear a look of panic, acid burning in the pit of my stomach. I’m jealous.
‘Two pieces of information for the ever-inquisitive Kate Harper: I am not a gazillionaire – try billionaire. I can tell what you’re thinking. I have never brought anyone to this hotel, or the suite, for that matter. Yes, I have fucked a lot of women, but I’ve only ever had a few serious relationships.’ Our eyes lock: dark and moody meets dark and shocked. ‘Does that answer your question?’
I’m floored. I can’t respond, except to nod. The money seems irrelevant when you throw ‘fucked a lot of women’ into the equation… How many is ‘a lot’? I wonder.
‘Good – let’s go.’
I follow him out to the main lobby, which is beautiful. Luke looks at me and holds his hand out. Is it an act of tenderness, or control?
Luke walks over to the concierge’s desk. I hear the sexy baritone voice I have grown accustomed to speak in Italian… Is he for real? Let’s just think about the qualities he possesses: he is the most fuckable man I have ever met, a gazillionaire, with a fleet of private jets, not to mention the palace… Let’s add he can speak Italian, because I knew there was something lacking from his repertoire. He astounds me – constantly. I really don’t know anything about him.
With a map in his hand, he reaches inside his blazer pocket and produces his Mont Blanc pen – not a Bic in sight! He pulls me to a table and places the leaflet flat on the surface.
‘Kate, we’re here.’ He circles the map. ‘Look, here is the Doge’s Palace; that’s the Piazza. You also have the Basilica here and the Campanile Bell Tower. Now if you take a walk and head north, you will come to the Rialto Bridge, which is definitely worth a visit.’
‘Looks like I’m going to be a busy girl.’
‘Let’s get to the boat.’
With my hand in his firm grip Luke leads us back to the private jetty. Within five minutes we’ve crossed the lagoon, ready to part ways.
‘Will you be OK?’
‘Luke, I’m a big girl – I’ll be fine. Go and do what you have to do.’
‘I’ve heard that before, and yet someone kicked the shit out of you. I didn’t want to bring it up but… this does concern me. You could always come with me.’
‘Definitely not… Besides, I may say something inappropriate. You seem to bring out… now, what did you say? Ah yes, the “petulant child” in me.’ Yay. Internally I clap, proud.
‘Yes well, it has been known. OK, stay out of trouble.’
‘Why, Luke? You won’t be with me.’ I briskly walk away, fearful that he will drag me to his meeting.
Strolling down a side street, I immediately enter the busy Piazza. They say Venice is the city of love, and undoubtedly I can feel its romantic essence, even though I’m on my own. Checking the map Mr Tour Guide Sutton gave me, I recognise the Gothic-style church and Campanile Tower. However, I think I should begin exploring in the square; the most symbolic area. I check my map again and begin to head for the Doge’s Palace, as recommended by my personal tour guide.
Instantly I’m absorbed by the history of the building, gaining an idea of the political power that once roamed these floors. The interior is stunning, the rooms full of intricate craftsmanship, from the gilded ceilings to the artwork on the walls. Luke was right: I’m already in love with Venice.
Three o’clock arrives, and all that’s left for me to do is a visit to the Rialto Bridge. I follow the signs, hoping to find somewhere to grab a snack along the way, having not eaten since the debate on the plane. Maybe Luke did have a point. On the corner of a cobbled street is an ice-cream seller – that will do.
My phone rings, startling me. I retrieve it and laugh at the caller ID.
‘How presumptuous of you to list yourself as Boss. I may have to change it to tour guide.’ I laugh at my cheeky employer.
‘I do believe your impertinent behaviour is contagious.’
‘Really… Let’s hope I don’t become bossy and self-assured. Now, Boss, I have a question for you. What flavour of ice cream should I choose?’
‘Personally, I love pistachio but I think you would like raspberry and vanilla, maybe with extra sauce, and you could add some of those delicious fresh raspberries.’ I look at the counter with the fresh fruit and sauces on display. Is he psychic? I turn to see a man heading in my direction, wearing cargo shorts and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up … looking cool, calm and extremely fuckable.
‘Are you following me?’
‘Bet your arse I am.’ I can hear him laughing as he strides confidently towards me.
Humour mixed with truth, no doubt.
‘How did you find me?’ I buy Luke an ice cream and pass it to him. It’s already begun to melt.
‘I saw you back at the Piazza. Have you enjoyed the sights?’
Let me think – the Venice sights, or the sight directly in front of me?
‘Yes, stunning. I’m just heading to the Rialto Bridge.’
‘Good; I’ll come with you.’
‘No work?’
‘I completed my meeting sooner than expected. I did speed it up, knowing you were alone.’ Shit – another unprovoked honest answer.
‘Because of the attack?’ Every time the word is mentioned a guilty look washes over his face.
‘Yes. Let’s go. We don’t have a lot of time. The ball starts at six thirty and I assume you will want time to get ready.’
We arrive fairly soon. The bridge itself is incredibly busy – evidently a tourist hotspot. Luke, being his usual controlling self, thought it would be best if we didn’t stay too long. We return to the square via a different route and stop for coffee.
I sit alone enjoying the view, waiting for Luke to return with our caffeine pit stop. A man stops at the table, speaking to me in Italian.
‘Sorry, I don’t speak…’ I shake my head and laugh.
He sits in the seat opposite me – Luke’s chair – and continues to talk.
I giggle with uncertainty.
Luke arrives with a tray. I look at him and shrug. He places the tray on the table, resting his hands on either side. He speaks, quickly, causing my stomach to contract and the stranger to stand.
‘Ciao, bella.’ The stranger takes my hand, kissing it as he departs, before speaking to Luke again. Luke replies, and I’m guessing it wasn’t pleasant, judging by his tone and the expression on the stranger’s face.
‘What was that all about?’ I ask, taking a sip of my co
ffee.
‘He wondered if you were married or single. He obviously liked you, Kate.’ Luke looks a little unhinged, while directing his firm tone at me – the innocent by-stander.
‘I didn’t have a clue what he was saying.’ I shrug it off.
‘Do you always have that effect on men, Kate?’
Why is he asking me such a question, especially with that look on his face? His eyes have darkened and I know this is through temper and not lust.
‘No, Luke.’
‘Why are you single, Kate?’ he asks as he sits back in his chair drinking his coffee.
‘I guess I haven’t met the right person. Probably the same reason that you’re single.’ I look at him and wonder why his interrogation offends me. ‘To be honest with you, Luke, I don’t see the point of dating someone when you know it’s not going to lead anywhere. I’ve never been a person to sleep around.’
He sits silently, one hand on his knee and the other circling the top of his cup. I know he is considering the information I have shared.
‘Drink up. I think we should leave.’ He checks his watch. However, I don’t buy into that bullshit. His attitude is due to my honesty. Maybe he wanted a one-night stand.
We return to the jetty. This is all done in silence, Luke holding my hand. Within four minutes the boat moors at the private dock outside the hotel. Luke helps me step onto the wharf, and we move towards the hotel entrance.
The silence remains as we stand in opposite corners of the lift. He knows I hate silence.
‘Have I pissed you off?’ I defensively fold my arms.
He slants his head, allowing our eyes to meet. ‘No. I have a lot on my mind – various business mergers and of course you know about the hotel.’
Bullshit – he was fine earlier. Actually, he was relaxed and playful, telling me about Venice’s history, until the complete stranger approached me. I’m losing the will to live with this man, who plays by his own rules.
We enter the suite. The room instantly relaxes me peeling away the layers of anxiety that Luke has built up in a matter of minutes with his sombre mood. I head towards my room.
‘Kate, do you need anything?’ He stands at the desk in the corner of the suite, reading some papers. I can’t help but feel cynical at his question.
‘No. I’m going to have a bath,’ I reply in a clipped tone.
Immersed in the heat, I lie for as long as possible, allowing my mind and body to relax, dispersing the grey cloud Luke has formed, and resting my ribs, which still feel tender. I discover a white towelling robe hanging in the bathroom. I wrap the soft fabric around my body.
My next thought is my dress for this evening, which I discover hanging in a walk-in closet – of course, there has to be a walk-in closet to house my two pairs of knickers and a dress to return home in. The dress is the most elegant dress I have ever seen. A knock at my door interrupts my thoughts, which are lost in the world of tulle and silk.
‘Kate, I ordered room service.’ Luke says through the closed door.
‘OK.’ I don’t feel like leaving my peaceful room to do battle with Mr Moody Bollocks Sutton.
I emerge from my room. The coffee table is laid with various savoury snacks – cheese and mixed meats, and a bottle of champagne.
‘I thought you might be hungry. We still have a couple of hours until we eat.’ He stands and offers me a plate. ‘I know you have cooked these for me, so I assumed we have similar taste.’ He seems to have eradicated the stroppy arsehole act.
‘Thank you.’ I place some cheese and mixed meats on my plate. Tucking my legs under me, I relax into the large sofa.
‘Did you enjoy your bath?’ He smiles softly.
‘Yes, it was good to soak the day away’ Small talk – it’s not my style and really puts me on edge. ‘So, tell me about your family. I think I should at least know their names.’
He slowly relaxes next to me, a bit too close for me to remain at ease. ‘My mum, Olivia, owns a marketing company in London, and my dad, Edward, has a logistics business. Then I have two younger brothers. Declan is twenty-seven, nearly the same age as you, and Oliver is twenty-four.’
I’m surprised at the reference to my birthday – he must know the date, as he used it for my security code for the house.
‘What do your brothers do?’ I pick at the cheese and Parma ham on my plate.
He smiles, rubbing his hand across his jaw.
‘Now, what can I say about Declan – university drop-out, tried to work with both of my parents and failed miserably.’ Luke reloads his plate with food.
‘Why doesn’t he work with you? I’m sure you’d have something to offer him.’
‘No,’ he shakes his head. ‘Declan would hate taking orders from me. But I have recently bought a company that I’m going to give to him – he doesn’t know this yet. Ollie insists he wants to be a teacher.’
‘Why does that bother you?’ Luke looks at me as though I have read his mind.
‘He can do want he wants. Ollie is different to me and Declan.’ He pushes his hand through his hair, agitated at my question.
I decide to lighten the mood.
‘So, you say he’s different to you… that must make him a pleasant young man, who’s not bossy or controlling.’
Luke laughs.
‘Bossy, yes, but not controlling.’
‘Don’t tell me this is a shock, Luke.’ I reach for my champagne flute.
‘I think that was a character assassination, not an assessment.’
‘Oh no, if you want a character assassination I will need to add to the list.’ Oh fuck. His eyes lock on mine, which have darkened in lust, not anger. I need a diversion.
‘Thank you for the dress – it’s beautiful.’
‘You’re welcome.’
As usual my body lets me down and responds to his voice.
‘Speaking of the dress, I think I’ll start to get ready.’ I stand and begin to walk to my room. ‘Oh, and Luke, you can be pleasant like your younger brother – sometimes.’
I hear a knock at my door. I have fifteen minutes remaining.
‘Kate, I have to give my parents their tickets.’
‘OK, I’ll meet you in the lobby.’ I would rather descend alone than be in a lift with this intoxicating man.
‘I’ll come back to collect you.’
‘No… stay with your parents.’
‘Very well.’
I assess my finished look in the mirror. My hair is up in a tight neat pleat, and my usual feline eye make-up and nude lipstick covers my cut nicely. My underwear was provided for tonight: a black basque with lace French knickers, matching suspender belt and sheer black lace-top stockings. Valerie certainly knows how to shop for underwear.
Now the dress, which I hope I can manage by myself, as it is taking up quite a lot of room in the closet. I step into the dress and slide it up over my breasts, pulling up the zip at the side. I gather up the tulle and slip on my black Louboutins. I stand, allowing my dress to fall to the floor, before collecting my Chanel handbag and looking in the mirror.
Goosebumps cover my skin as I take in my reflection. There are no other words to describe the black dress other than a ball gown. The top half is strapless and tight-fitting. The skirt is made up of tulle, covered with cascading black leaves. I take a deep breath, casting aside any ill feelings about Luke.
I step inside the lift and press the button for the ground floor. The lift moves to the floor below and stops. A man enters wearing a dinner jacket. I assume we are heading to the same function.
‘Evening.’ He is extremely good-looking – tall, with blond, floppy hair and a great smile. Nevertheless, he’s not my type, but if Kiki were here she would have him hard up against the corner.
‘Hi,’ I respond.
He leans against one corner of the lift as he
checks me out.
‘I don’t recognise you. I’m guessing this is your first time attending the ball?’
‘Yes.’ I look at him directly, allowing our eyes to meet. Feeling awkward, I break away from his gaze.
He holds his hand out. ‘Matthew Williams – and you are?’
‘Kate Harper.’ I shake his hand, feeling a little uncomfortable although there is no reason for this, just a feeling.
‘Are you aware of the Venetian law? You must dance with men who accost you in the lift.’ He flashes me a sexy grin.
I laugh, pleased that the awkwardness has dispersed.
‘Is that so?’ I raise my brows.
Thankfully we arrive.
‘Remember the law; you can’t hide. I will hunt you down, Kate Harper.’ He looks at me, knowing he has an effect on women. However, it’s lost on me; he doesn’t push my buttons.
‘I’ll think about it.’
He turns and walks away, but not before he gives me a wink. I’m sensing his hunting has just begun and I’m his potential victim.
I enter the main lobby. The entire entrance seems to be full of women in long dresses and men in dinner suits. I only have eyes for one, except I can’t see him.
Suddenly, I feel eyes on me. I turn. No words, no movement, merely an intense feeling of desire. Dark, magnetic eyes meet dark and enthralled.
14
In a crowded room we appear to be alone. All that exists is our gaze. The spell is broken as Luke moves towards me.
‘You look stunning.’ He circles my dress, assessing it from every angle. ‘Breathtakingly beautiful.’ His hand reaches for my face, gently touching the side of my cheek. His broad chest expands. ‘Wow.’ His tongue skims his lower lip. I wish it were mine touching him.
‘You look handsome.’ No matter how many times I’m in his company, he always manages to take my breath away.
‘Ready to meet my family?’
No.
‘Yes.’
We walk through the crowded foyer. My hand automatically slides into his.
