The Good Sister: Part One

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The Good Sister: Part One Page 28

by London Saint James


  “Bentley lives in Georgia. She’s attending college there,” I offered. “My sister loves life, and she’s afraid of nothing. Bentley doesn’t hold anything back. In fact her mouth has gotten her into trouble more than once, but I’ve always admired her strength, her uncensored ability. Bentley doesn’t look like me, except I would say we have the same lips, but I think Bentley’s lips are perfect. She has auburn colored hair, the same color eyes as mine, green, but she’s much more beautiful.”

  “My dove, I doubt she could be as gorgeous as you.”

  I smiled. “You always say such things to me.”

  “I always speak the truth.”

  “I’ve been talking forever; you have got to be tired of hearing me.”

  “No,” Ashton assured.

  “We have been driving a while. Are we getting close to the pizza place?”

  “We are closer.”

  I placed my hand over my mouth and yawned.

  “Are you tired, my dove?”

  “A little bit.”

  “Rest your head on me. When you wake we shall be at our destination.”

  I placed my head onto Ashton’s chest, gripping his shirt with my hand before smoothing out my fingers. He wrapped his arm around me. I snuggled up against him in a small curling ball.

  I woke to the feeling of being jostled. I was being carried up a flight of stairs, cradled within Ashton’s arms.

  “Are we here?”

  “Yes, we have arrived at my apartment.”

  “Your apartment?”

  “Yes, my dove,” Ashton said, opening up a door. Ashton spoke to his driver. “Place the bags by the door, Worthington, then wait for us at the car. We shall only be but a moment.”

  I had a hard time seeing; the sun had set, plus there were no lights on inside the apartment.

  “You can put me down,” I offered.

  “I have something I wish for you to see,” Ashton said. He carried me over to a wall of what looked like curtains. “I am going set you on your feet.” He placed my feet upon the floor, holding onto me until my body adjusted. “Look.” Ashton pointed to his right then pushed a button on a remote control. The curtain moved, unveiling a huge window that framed the bright night lights of a city.

  I blinked. “This is Paris,” I uttered. “You brought me to Paris.” I stared out at the magnificent view. “Wow.”

  “Yes, my dove. You told me you wished to see Paris. Are you surprised?”

  “Oh … yes,” I said turning to look at Ashton from beneath my lashes. “I have always dreamed of seeing Paris.”

  I reached up and touched his jaw. “No one has ever done such things for me or said such things to me or looked at me like you look at me, Ashton.”

  “My dove, I could say the exact same. No one has ever touched my life as you have.”

  “Will you give me my wish?” I asked.

  “What is your wish?”

  “Kiss me.”

  Ashton pulled me into his hold, leaned down, and kissed my lips with softness. When the kissed ended, he spoke. “I believe I promised pepperoni pizza and Coca-Cola.”

  “Yes, my lord, you did.”

  He held out his arm. “Shall we?”

  “Yes,” I said, taking it.

  “And after dinner I thought we could go for a drive, see the night lights, if that is your wish,” Ashton suggested.

  “I would love that.”

  “Then it shall be done.”

  I held on to Ashton’s hand and peered out the window of the car, taking in everything I possibly could. I placed my other hand inside my coat pocket and felt something. It was my wishing stone. I smiled. I didn’t need it any longer.

  When the car stopped Ashton helped me out, held my hand, and walked me to the door of a little hole in the wall café. It was tucked in an alley with one red buzzing neon light that hung overtop the front door. The light sounded as if it were on its last leg, giving out an intermittent buzz...

  Ashton opened the door for me. We stepped inside. The café smelled of nothing but rich Italian sauces, spices, cheese, and pizza. There were several small round tables all covered with red and white table cloths, along with red jar candles burning in the middle of each table. Scattered about were several potted fruit trees adorned with white twinkling lights. The walls were red brick, rough, with exposed wooden beams across the ceiling.

  “This is pretty,” I commented. Ashton led me to a table in the back.

  “I am glad you are pleased, my dove.”

  There were a few people eating, but it wasn’t packed full of people so I liked that. I was still iffy when it came to crowds. Ashton pulled out a chair for me, helped me with my coat then watched as I took a seat.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “You are quite welcome,” Ashton replied.

  He took the seat next to me instead of across from me.

  “Would it be too terribly tacky if I held your hand at the table?” I asked.

  One dark brow rose over Ashton’s expressive eyes. I may have shocked him.

  “I would be delighted to hold your hand,” Ashton said, taking my hand in his.

  A pimpled faced boy with black curling hair, wearing a white apron and sporting numerous pens protruding from one of the pockets approached with a menu. He spoke in French. I observed him while listening to Ashton as he spoke to the boy. The boy smiled, pulled out one of his many pens from the pocket of his apron, and proceeded to write down what I gathered was the order.

  “You speak French very well.”

  Ashton turned his attention back to me. “I have spent quite a bit of time in France. One begins to pick things up here and there.”

  I smiled. Ashton placed his thumb to the corner of my mouth. “What is this smile about, my dove?”

  “The way you speak, it’s not picking things up here and there. Someone taught you to speak French. I would imagine you speak more than French, don’t you?”

  “Ah … my dove,” he laughed, “you are dazzling. Yes, I know many languages. Many I learned in my formal studies, others I wanted to learn because they interested me.”

  “How many languages do you know?”

  “I speak French, Spanish, German, Arabic, Japanese, Portuguese, and dabble in a little Latin and Greek.”

  “Wow. I only speak English, and not proper English at that.”

  “The way you speak is fine.”

  “But not like you speak. I like how you speak. I like the sound of your voice,” I admitted then I hesitated.

  “What is it, my dove?”

  I worried my bottom lip with my teeth. “Will you say something to me in another language?”

  Ashton’s gaze intensified as he leaned in close. “Votre beauté me saisit,” he said softly, “me tient prisonnier, fixe mon regard comme si le soleil occupe mon cœur, comme si les étoiles et prend mon souffle, comme si la lune.”

  I sat transfixed as fire streaked across my being. I wondered if I were smoldering in my chair. “That was so beautiful, Ashton. Thank you.”

  “You have nothing to thank me for my beautiful, Trinity.”

  “Will you tell me what you said? It was like listening to music dance across my skin.”

  “Your beauty captures me, votre beauté me saisit. Holds me prisoner, me tient prisonnier.” I chilled, as goose bumps splayed across my skin. “Sets my gaze as if the sun. Fixe mon regard comme si le soleil. Holds my heart as if the stars and takes my breath as if the moon. Occupe mon cœur, comme si les étoiles et prend mon souffle, comme si la lune.”

  “Oh my,” I muttered, feeling my body buzz. I might spontaneously burst into flames. I wondered if I were going to come.

  Ashton’s face beamed as if he knew what he was doing to me.

  “What’s wrong, my dove?”

  “I-I,” I stuttered.

  The dark haired boy came back. He was carrying two glasses with ice along with two cans of Coke. I was glad for the interruption. I felt strange tingling, and needed to cro
ss my legs in hope I could contain the burn. Ashton’s gaze, and his words had turned me into a wanton. I had visions of being taken right then and there in the middle of the restaurant.

  I grinned at the boy. He placed the glasses and the Cokes in front of us. He said something to Ashton. They had a long conversation. I reached out, popped the top of my Coke can, and poured the temping carbonated drink into my glass of ice. I picked it up, took a drink, and enjoyed the cold carbonation, lush sugar, and thick dark syrup. It drowned out the other things I was feeling.

  “That is awesome,” I said.

  Ashton and the boy nodded at each other in that masculine way men do then the boy left.

  “Are you enjoying your Coca-Cola, my dove?”

  “Oh for sure,” I said before taking another drink. Ashton let out a guffaw. “Ashton, what were you two talking about? It seemed like a very detailed conversation.”

  “We were speaking of you, actually.”

  “Me?”

  “He told me I was a lucky man to have such a beautiful woman. I agreed with him without reservation,” Ashton stated.

  I giggled. “You are messing around with me. That’s not what he said.”

  “I speak the truth,” Ashton replied, reaching for his Coke.

  No time had passed when the boy arrived with a huge pepperoni pizza. With a twirl of the hot pie, he placed the pizza pan in the middle of our table. Several people passed the table, one man glaring. I tucked myself into Ashton’s arm. Ashton swiped his hand over my hair in a soothing gesture.

  He asked, “Why do you do that?”

  “What?”

  The boy straightened the pizza pan before taking his leave.

  “Please do not misunderstand what I am going to say, because I love feeling your body against mine, but why do you tuck yourself into me? I have noticed it before on a couple of different occasions.”

  “Sometimes I feel unsure or like I may have an anxiety attack. I used to have them quite often.”

  “And you feel secure, touching me?”

  “Yes. I feel safe when I’m against you.”

  “Shall we eat?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I confirmed.

  We laughed, and talked over dinner. I was surprised to see this side of him, so comfortable, much more laid back, less formal. He had a wonderful smile, and a warm laugh. I remembered I’d decided to find out what each of his smiles meant. I renewed that decision watching him eat pizza and tell stories of his best friend, Thaddeus Barrington.

  “We almost faced expulsion when we were caught smoking the headmaster’s Montecristos,” Ashton said.

  “What’s a Montecristo?”

  “A Cuban cigar.”

  “Do you smoke?”

  “From time to time,” Ashton said, “does that bother you?”

  “No. I bet you’re sexy when you smoke.”

  Ashton laughed again.

  “Do you find a man smoking to be sexy?”

  “I find you to be sexy,” I confirmed then leaned in close to whisper into his ear, “regardless.”

  He captured my face within his hand, kissed my lips then whispered back. “Then would you grant me another wish?”

  “What is your wish?”

  “I would like you to meet Thaddeus.”

  This was so not the wish I thought he would ask for.

  “Is he in Paris?” I asked.

  “No. He owns a nightclub in London. Perhaps we shall visit him during our trip next week. Will you grant me this wish?”

  “You really want to introduce me to your best friend?”

  “It is my wish.”

  “Then yes,” I said.

  I took a bite of my pizza, gazing up to see Ashton.

  “Do you realize how terribly sexy you are when you eat?” he asked.

  “I doubt I’m sexy.”

  “You are terribly sexy,” he said again.

  Ashton tucked his booted foot under the bottom rung of my chair, scooting me to him. The legs of the wooden chair screeched and skidder-stepped across the tiled floor, making known their protest, but Ashton seemed not to care, even if people turned to look at us, because once I was close, he kissed me in earnest. It was a tangle of passion, pizza, and twining tongues.

  “Lord Archer?” a man asked. We both turned to look in his direction. “I say, that is you, Archer. Seeing you kissing the lips off of this enchanting creature, I was not at all sure,” the man said.

  “Billings,” Ashton greeted. “I heard you were stationed in the Gulf.”

  “Yes, well I am in-between assignments currently,” he said.

  “Trinity, this Commodore Robert Billings. We were stationed together in service for Her Majesty’s Royal Navy,” Ashton introduced.

  I looked at the tall slender man with angular features, a pointed chin, and thin set lips. I smiled and extended out my hand. “I am pleased to meet you, Commodore.”

  The Commodore took my hand, bowed while raising my hand to his lips where he placed a kiss upon the back of it.

  “The pleasure, I assure you, is entirely mine,” the Commodore replied before letting go.

  “Billings, I am delighted to introduce you to my dove,” Ashton said, taking my hand back into his own. He rubbed his thumb over the place the Commodore kissed. “This is Trinity Winslow.”

  “Trinity,” he replied then looked back toward Ashton. “Are you living in Paris now, Archer?”

  “No, we are here on a short trip. We shall be heading back to London on Wednesday.”

  “And your family? How are they?”

  “Very well. Thank you for the inquiry, Billings.”

  Commodore Billings smiled but it was without any doubt at seeing a tall dark-haired lady enter. She was dressed in a long dark fur coat. With a quick glance back toward Ashton he said, “I must apologize for my interruption to your dinner, as well for my hasty departure, but I am meeting someone, and I see she has just arrived.”

  “Ah…” said Ashton, eying the dark-haired woman then setting his gaze back toward Billings, “you and Jillian are still—”

  “Experiencing some difficulties, yes,” Billings interjected quickly. “Archer, it was good seeing you again.” He tilted his head toward me. “And I must say I am delighted to meet you, lady Trinity.”

  “Thank you,” I replied.

  “It was good seeing you. Enjoy your evening,” Ashton said.

  Billings nodded and turned to greet the dark-haired woman who seemed curious as to whom he had been speaking with. Billings put his arm around her shoulders, and whispered something into her ear as they left in somewhat of a hurry.

  “Your friend is leaving,” I observed. “And he just got here.”

  “Yes. I am sure he is uncomfortable.”

  “Why?”

  “I would presume it would have something to do with the fact he is more than likely on leave with a woman who is not his wife.”

  “And you know his wife,” I said. It wasn’t a question.

  “Yes. Jillian and I were together at one time, but she decided Billings was the better choice.”

  I experienced a twisting of heat along with pointed jealousy, as if someone were pinching me. I didn’t like the thought of Ashton with another woman.

  “Oh,” I said, glancing down at our intertwined hands. “She made the wrong choice, Ashton.”

  Ashton lifted my chin. “Our pizza is becoming cold, and I fear it will also become soggy.”

  I pulled myself together. “Cold pizza is always the best.”

  Ashton let out a guffaw.

  I downed three slices. I was starving, I discovered, but now I felt like I was going to explode. I also doubted I could be any fuller so if I were to explode it should happen any moment. I wondered how Ashton could eat so much yet keep his yummy physique. I studied him for a moment, shaking my head.

  “What is it, my dove?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Tell me. I simply must know.”

  “I was just wonde
ring how you stay…” I hesitated searching for the right word.

  “What are you wondering about?”

  I placed my face into Ashton’s arm as I answered. “You are so beautiful.”

  Ashton let out a low laugh in response.

  “My sweet, Trinity. Are you asking me how I stay beautiful?”

  “Yes, it doesn’t seem fair.”

  Ashton’s smile was incandescent.

  “I am not following, my dove. What does not seem fair?”

  “I mean you look … well, you look so delicious.” Ashton busted out laughing. “It’s just not fair you can eat how you eat, but look how you look.”

  “Delicious would be a word I would attach to you my beautiful dove; however, I am flattered you see me as such. As far as your other inquiry I swim, jog, and partake in various other physical pursuits. Does that satisfy your curiosity?”

  “Other physical pursuits?”

  “Yes. Some of which I would be willing to show you.”

  “My lord. Are you unleashing your devil?”

  “There is definitely a possibility, my lady.”

  He placed his hand on the back of my neck, massaging, pulling my head forward, and kissing me with a passion.

  “Did you enjoy the pizza?” Ashton asked as his lips tentatively left mine.

  “Yes, it was wonderful.”

  “Better than the pizza in California?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you desire another Coca-Cola, perhaps to go?”

  “Sure,” I said.

  Ashton loaded up on Coca-Cola, paid the bill, and walked hand and hand with me back to the car.

  “Shall we see some city lights now?” He asked.

  “I would very much enjoy it.”

  We drove past buildings and monuments that I’d seen in books or on the Internet, but I was seeing the real thing. Like so many things I had experienced since meeting Lord Archer, I would never forget this night.

  “That’s the Louvre,” I said.

  “Come,” Ashton said. The car came to a stop. Ashton took my hand. “I wish for you to see this up close.”

  The pyramid sparkled like a diamond, lit up for the world to see. It was beautiful, probably the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. We stood beneath a lamp light, gazing at the magnificent structures lit brightly, within the cool night air. My breath illuminated out in front of me as it evaporated into the background of extraordinary architecture. I stood in awe, holding on to Ashton’s hand, spinning in a one hundred and eighty degree turn. If this were a dream I never wanted to wake.

 

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