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Rebellion (A Dangerous Man, #2)

Page 6

by Serena Grey


  “I’ve never been anywhere like this before,” the man at my other side whispers to me. I look up at him in surprise.

  “I’m Rick Cruzman,” he says, proffering his hand, I take it. On closer inspection, I see that he is a boy, really, just a little older than I am.

  “Me neither.” I respond with a smile.

  He grins, revealing a crooked front tooth. For some reason, it makes me warm to him. There is something endearing and boyish about it.

  “I keep imagining that someone will come along and ask me what I’m doing on this table.” He laughs nervously.

  I keep silent, I don’t want to tell him that I almost feel the same way. I look over at David. Done with his conversation, he is staring straight ahead, towards the podium. He belongs here, I can see that, with these glamorous people and their sparkling jewelry.

  “What do you do?” I ask my new friend.

  “Well,” His eyes light up, “your husband just acquired a new software I developed. My company is now part of Preston Corp.” he grins, “I swear he’s totally changed my life in a matter of days.”

  The expression of gratitude in his eyes as they move to David and back to me fills me with pride. I remember David telling me that he was in Ashford to buy a software. I realize I have this man to thank for the fact that I met David at all. The thought makes me smile at him. “Good for you.” I say.

  The speech ends, and we all applaud, stopping when someone else takes the podium. I’m trying to pay attention when I notice Rick’s eyes skip to something beyond the table and widen discernibly. I turn in the direction he’s looking to see a woman approaching our table.

  The only way to describe her is extraordinarily beautiful. Her hair is a deep copper, and piled on top of her head in a mass of burnished curls. Her shoulders are slim and pale, and exposed in the scarlet dress that clings to her curves as if she was poured into it. Her only jewelry is a green stone that sits between her breasts, matching the flashing green of her eyes.

  She comes straight for our table, a gloved hand lightly resting on the arm of the youngish, handsome man who is escorting her. I stiffen, watching as they take the empty seats. I recognize her from the pictures I’ve seen. Carole Banks, David’s old girlfriend. As she settles into her seat, she looks towards me, and the venom I see in her beautiful eyes almost knocks me off my seat.

  I look towards David, he doesn’t seem surprised, he was expecting this, I realize, he was expecting her to be here.

  “Carole!” The exclamation comes from Leon Boise. “How nice to see you again.”

  She acknowledges him with a small smile. I notice that she doesn’t look at David at all. There’s more going on here than I know.

  “I had forgotten to congratulate you David,” Leon continues, “I read about the attempted takeover,” he turns to Carole again. “I hear David has you to thank for retaining his control on the board.”

  For the first time, Carole looks at David, her eyes absolutely poisonous, but there is something else in them, hurt, desire, I can’t say.

  “Yes,” She says softly. Her voice is as beautiful as the rest of her, “I sold him the shares of his company I got when my father died.” She laughs a little, without any merriment. “Which means David Preston will always control Preston Corp.”

  David’s response is a smile. “As he should, Carole,” his hand comes to rest on mine on the table, a little gesture of intimacy that’s not lost on her. “Have you met my wife?” He asks.

  I actually flinch at the look she gives me. Her face tightens, but only for a second, and then her perfect mask is back in place. “No,” she says, “I don’t believe I have had the pleasure.”

  The tone of her voice says it will be anything but a pleasure.

  “Carole this is Sophie, my wife.” He turns to me, “this is Carole Banks.” He doesn’t offer anything more than that.

  I have no idea what’s going on between her and David, but I give her a hesitant smile. I can feel her animosity towards me coming in waves, but I decide to be polite even in the face of that. “Nice to meet you.” I say.

  She chuckles, and it has a mocking ring to it. “The pleasure is mine.” She replies, and takes a long sip from her glass of wine.

  The second speech ends, and we applaud again. People start to get up from their tables to socialize some more, and to dance to the soft music from the orchestra. Carole is the first to leave our table, taking her companion with her.

  I turn as David put a hand on my arm. “Would you like to dance?” he asks.

  No, I would like to know what that was all about. But I don’t say the words, instead, I allow him to lead me out to the ballroom, where couples of different ages are moving to the live music.

  “What was that?” I ask as we start to move. I learned how to dance at school, thankfully, so I don’t trip over his feet.

  “What was what?” He asks, nuzzling my hair.

  He is deliberately avoiding my question. “What just happened at our table, with that woman?” I insist.

  He shrugs. “Carole isn’t too happy with the price she got for her shares, that’s all.”

  “You didn’t pay her as much as she wanted?”

  “I couldn’t.” he says, twirling me.

  I frown, puzzled, “Then how did you get her to sell them to you?”

  He shrugs again. “I have my ways.”

  A sneaking suspicion dawns on me. “Wait,” I ask, “what did she want?”

  He pauses. “She wanted me,” he says without any hint of conceit. “Either me or my destruction,” he pulls me close and guides me in a spin. I stare at him open-mouthed.

  “I don’t understand.” I say as the music ends. But he doesn’t explain. He kisses me on the forehead as the man he had been talking to at our table, Leon Boise, comes to claim me for the next dance.

  David hands me over with a curt smile, “handle with extreme care,” he says, before turning around and walking away from us.

  “I’m Leon Boise,” my new partner tells me as we start to dance.

  “I know.” I smile.

  “You do?” he laughs, his silver hair gleaming in the lights, “I didn’t think I was famous.”

  “I may have read some news articles.” I tell him.

  He seems surprised, but is happy enough to tell me about his business as we dance.

  Afterwards, I excuse myself and go to the ladies room. While I’m checking my makeup, the door opens, and my eyes meet Carole Bank’s in the mirror. She pauses at the door, giving me a long hard look.

  For a few moments, we just look at each other, her gaze shrewd and assessing, mine puzzled and expecting the worst. She doesn’t disappoint.

  “Oh look, it’s the child bride.” She says disparagingly.

  I debate whether to reply, then I decide to ignore her, and turn back to the mirror.

  “So how’s marriage to David treating you?” She asks. “You look happy?”

  I turn to look at her, unwilling to be affected by her animosity. “I am, actually.” I tell her, not that it’s any of her business.

  Her expression changes to one of faux concern. “Doesn’t it bother you that it won’t last?”

  I swallow. “Why shouldn’t it? Because I didn’t try to buy David’s love with a couple of shares?”

  Her eyes narrow, and then suddenly, she starts to laugh. “You have no idea, do you? You really are as innocent and trusting as you look.” She makes the words sound like ‘stupid and dumb’. She comes closer to me, as if she has some secret of vital importance to impart. “Sophie, David uses people. That’s how he got where he is. He used me, he used my father, and now he’s using you.”

  “You’re just saying that because you’re...”

  “Jealous?” she interrupts, “well maybe I am. But darling the truth is, he married you for a reason, and now that he’s got what he wanted, he no longer needs you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Well, he never would have had
his company without my father, and he would have lost control of it if I had sold my shares to the wrong person.”

  “So you told him you would sell your shares to him if he married you?” I mirror her expression of scorn, “That sounds pretty desperate to me.”

  She ignores me. “So your husband blackmailed me and forced me to do what he wanted. He is a snake, and he always plays dirty.” She pauses, “of course it wasn’t enough to him to win, he had to marry a green little country rat from the backwater to teach me a lesson.”

  Her words touch me. Wasn’t that the answer to the question I had been asking myself all this time. ‘Why did David marry me?’

  “You know I’m right,” she gives me a measuring look. “Be careful Sophie, David is a dangerous man, he won’t hesitate to toss you away as soon he’s be done with you.”

  “I don’t believe you.” I say with false bravado.

  “Believe what you want.” She shakes her head “Who cares, just don’t get too comfortable in his life, you’ll be alone as soon as he gets tired of all that,” she gestures in the general direction of my body.

  I search my head for a retort, but she has already swung out of the room.

  It’s only after she has gone that I realize that my fists are clenched so tight, my nails are cutting into the skin of my palms. I don’t want to believe the things she’s said, but deep down, I know she’s telling the truth.

  Chapter Seven

  WHEN I LEAVE THE LADIES ROOM, all I want to do is find David and make him deny the things Carole said to me. He’s not in the ballroom, and the dining room is already empty. I go in the direction of a wide stairway that leads from the ballroom to a mezzanine floor, where there are some chairs and many French doors that lead to a long balcony.

  David’s not anywhere on the mezzanine floor either, I’m about to turn back down the stairs when I decide to check outside.

  The balcony runs along the whole length of the hotel and is filled with different species of potted plants. There are a few people close to the doors, mostly smoking and conversing. I decide to walk a little further, mainly because, there is a cool breeze coming from the sea.

  I take only a few steps before I see them.

  Carole has her hands on David arm, and she’s saying something to him, her expression full of passion. I freeze on the spot, unable to take my eyes off them.

  I can only see David’s back, but he seems to be listening to her, whatever it is that she’s saying. Suddenly she pulls his face down and starts to kiss him.

  I stand there waiting for him to push her away, but he doesn’t. When I can’t look anymore, I turn on my heel and rush back into the hotel. I hurry down the stairs, feeling an actual pain in my chest. It’s heavy and aching, and it’s spreading all over my body. I need to get away from here. Away from him.

  At the lobby, I ask for a cab. It only takes a few minutes before one arrives. I look back only once to see if maybe David has noticed that I’m gone, but I suppose he’s too busy reconciling with his old love.

  I can’t shake the image of them kissing from my head, in my mind it turns to something else, and I can almost see him making love to her. The thoughts fill me with a desperate sadness. I want to go back and pull her off him. I want to do many things, but I know there’s only one thing I should do.

  When I get to the apartment, I find my bags, the one that came with me from Ashford. I pack my sketchpad, and my old clothes. I don’t want to take anything of his. I don’t want to take anything that will remind me of this life. I hear my phone ringing in my purse, but I ignore it, I’m not interested in whatever it is he has to say. I’m zipping the last bag closed when the door bursts open and David walks in.

  He looks worried, but then he takes in the bags on the bed, the tears on my face, and his expression changes to steel. “What are you doing?” he asks slowly.

  “What does it look like?” I retort without pausing.

  “I left you for a few moments at a party, and now you’re leaving me?”

  “You left me for far longer than a few minutes, to make out with your old girlfriend.” I throw the words at him, angry at the tears that are filling my eyes.

  “So now you’re running off back to Ashford,” The hardness in his voice intensifies almost enough to scare me. He comes towards me. “Tell me, is it Eddie Newton who’s going to be picking up the pieces of your broken heart, or will it be somebody else?”

  “What do you care?” I cry.

  “For God’s sake Sophie!” the words are harsh.

  I try to back away, but the bed is behind me, he is standing so close, I can’t see anything but his chest. “Let me go.” I whisper, “I don’t belong here, in this big apartment, or in your luxurious life, and we both know it.”

  “You don’t know what you’re saying,” For a moment, I think there is a pleading note in his voice, but it must be my imagination because his expression remains like stone.

  The truth is, if I knew how he felt about me, if I thought, even for one moment, that he cared about me, that I’m not just someone he likes to sleep with, I would never think of going anywhere.

  I swallow. “David, do you love me?” I ask, looking up into his face. My voice is trembling, maybe because I already know what the answer is.

  He looks irritated, “What has come over you?”

  “Do you love me, David?” I ask again.

  His face freezes again, and I know he has shut me out. “What do you want from me?” he says, turning away.

  I stare at his back. Somewhere inside, I still had hope, that maybe he would tell me that he loved me and make me stay with him. “You don’t love me do you?” I accuse, shaking my head and feeling all my childish dreams and expectations crumbling around my feet. How could I have thought, even for one moment that he could love me? I am just a means to an end, and he has used me because that’s what he does, he uses people. Carole was right.

  He turns back towards me. “Love isn’t all it’s cracked up to be Sophie.” His voice is almost gentle, “other people would take what they have and be grateful for it.”

  Maybe he meant for his words to comfort me, but I feel as if he has just crushed the last of my hopes.

  “And what do I have?” I turn back to him. “Tell me the truth David. Why did you marry me?”

  His silence tells me what I need to know. I turn away from him, back to my bags on the bed. I’m not looking at him, so I’m not expecting it when he takes hold of my arm.

  I turn around and stare up at him, breathing deeply. He looks determined, and I wonder, filled with hope and dread, what he is going to say. He moves closer to me and puts a hand on my cheek, stroking it slowly. I wait, confused. His hand moves down to my neck, and then to my shoulders, his eyes never leaving mine. Despite myself, I stare at him hypnotized.

  As his fingers run down my arm, I can’t prevent the shiver that runs through my body.

  He notices, “Because of that.” He says. His expression doesn’t change, but his fingers continue their journey, lightly skimming over my body as I stand in front of him.

  When my whole body is shivering and aching for him, he leans in closer and whispers in my ear. “Because of this, Sophie. This is what we have between us.”

  “This is only sex.” I whisper helplessly, sadness and sexual arousal fighting for supremacy. “We have nothing.”

  His fingers skim lightly over a nipple. As I shudder in pleasure, he smiles. “Is this nothing, Sophie?” He has the voice of the devil, tempting and persuasive. I want to throw aside everything I know to be true, and allow him to make love to me.

  He leans forwards and whispers in my ear, arousing me with his warm breath on my nape. “Don’t you want this Sophie?” Don’t you want me to touch you? To make love to you, over and over again?” his lips make a trail from my neck to my shoulder. “Isn’t it enough?”

  I shake my head, tears stinging my eyes. “No.”

  “Don’t lie to yourself? Sophie, what else is ther
e?” His hand slide down over my dress and pull down the zip, making it fall to the ground. His hands skim up over my waist and toward my breasts. He stops just shy of touching them, teasing me.

  I look up at him, my eyes pleading. I don’t know what I want anymore. I want him to love me, but I also want him to keep touching me, more than anything. My breasts are heavy and straining through my bra. My breath is coming in short gasps.

  “What do you want Sophie?”

  His fingers move upwards, skimming the lower curve of my breasts. I moan softly.

  He cups my breasts, squeezing them until my whole body is aching with desire.

  “Isn’t this enough?’ he asks again, I shake my head.

  He sighs and undoes my bra, freeing my breasts. I feel exposed, yet full of expectation. I want this. I want him, despite everything.

  He starts to take off his clothes, I stand transfixed as he removes his jacket and tie, his shirt, then his pants. By the time he’s totally naked, I’m shaking with arousal, hungry for him.

  He guides my hand to his hard length. I touch him, glorying in the stiffness. He wants me as much as I want him. Stroking him, I get down on my knees, trying to pleasure him with my hands and my mouth. Muttering an oath, he pulls me up, turns me around, and bends me over the bed. He starts to stroke me through my panties, and in moments, I’m burning for him. He doesn’t make any move to end my torment. His fingers continue to stroke me until my panties are soaked.

  “Please.” I beg him brokenly. “Please David.”

  “Tell me what you want.” His voice torments me.

  “Please.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I want you.” I cry, grinding my hips against his fingers.

  “You want what?”

  “I want you to make love to me, David, please.”

  He pulls my panties down to my knees. Spreading my legs as far as my stretched panties will allow, he enters me, slowly, teasingly, pushing in inch by inch until I’m going crazy and begging him to give me more. I brace my hands on the mattress and push my hips back, urging him further in. He stiffens, then moves, bending over me and grabbing each of my breasts in each hand, and pinning me to his body until I can’t move.

 

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