He crossed the room to the couch where she sat, bent down, and captured her lips with his own, kissing her thoroughly. “Yes, I think I shall never get enough of this deliciousness.”
Then without warning, he scooped her into his arms and took her to the bed. He kissed her senseless, all the while removing her clothes and his own. When they were both completely naked, he knelt up beside her. He slid his hands down her body, almost reverently.
“I’ve said it before, but there is no other word for it, you are exquisite,” he whispered, that note of awe she found so appealing in his voice.
Sara was acutely aware that this is what it felt like to be loved and cherished. Maybe the feeling was all the stronger because she loved him so intensely herself.
That was the last cogent thought she had because he made slow, sweet love to her until she fell apart in his arms.
~ * ~
Mark sat in the casino bar, staring morosely at his vodka martini. He was pissed off. He was pissed off at Daphne for talking him into this. If she had left well enough alone, he’d still have Sara on his arm and a little bit of dirty Daphne on the side. He was pissed off with Sara for coming back to the cabin that first morning—although he figured it was bound to have happened at some point. But that made him even more pissed off with Daphne, because it wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t talked Benjamin into bringing her on the cruise. And he was most pissed off with Benjamin. Benjamin never gave a damn about anyone but himself. He hadn’t loved Daphne. To him, she was just another blond bimbo willing to cater to his tastes for a while, then easily replaced once he was bored with her. She might have thought she could win the title “Mrs. Benjamin Talbot” and maybe if she’d played it right she could have someday, but not because Benjamin loved her. If he’d ever decided to marry her, it would have only been because eventually he needed to marry a girl from a good family. He needed someone who would be the required trophy wife in public while meeting his needs in the bedroom, and Daphne might have qualified.
So why had Benjamin gotten so angry with him over this? Mark had done him a favor by showing him Daphne’s true colors. Benjamin should be thanking him and looking for his next toy. He should not have his hands on Sara, behaving as if she were his. Benjamin could have anything and nearly anyone he wanted. He didn’t want Sara. He couldn’t possibly love Sara. He’s just using her to punish me and Daphne.
And it was working. Sure, Mark had Daphne—at least for the time being—and that’s what he had thought he wanted. He’d imagined taking her from Benjamin would be satisfying. But he was wrong. Horribly, incredibly, painfully wrong. He had no sense of victory at all.
In truth, Mark missed Sara. She was sweet and warm and he liked her. He liked her more than he realized. Perhaps he loved her. But whether he loved her or not, he damn sure didn’t want Benjamin to have her. He wanted her back and he needed to get her away from Benjamin to have a hope of accomplishing that. After all, it was in her own best interests. She was too good for Benjamin Talbot.
The best way to get her back was for Benjamin to be tempted by another woman. A woman who was more to his liking. Daphne fit the bill, but Benjamin wasn’t biting. Mark would have to take a different tack. Maybe with a little time, Benjamin would realize Sara wasn’t the girl for him. And then too, maybe there was someone at home who could lure Benjamin away from Sara and back to the kink he loved. Either way, Mark was certain Benjamin would drop her sooner or later and he was equally certain Sara would be the one hurt. And I’ll make sure I’m there to pick up the pieces.
Daphne sidled up next to him at the bar, pressing her body against his. “This is where you were. I’ve looked everywhere.”
He pulled out the barstool next to him. “Have a seat. I’ll buy you a drink.”
“Thanks. A Cosmo would hit the spot.”
He ordered the drink as she sat down. He had to smile to himself. “Sat” was the wrong word. Daphne positioned herself. She really only half-sat on the stool. Her right foot remained on the floor, causing her skirt to hike up almost indecently high and accentuating her long sexy legs. If Sara had done that, he’d have leaned in for a quick kiss and rested a hand on her hip. Then as he broke the kiss he’d slide his hand down repositioning her skirt. She wouldn’t like to be so exposed, but calling her attention to it would have embarrassed her. Daphne, on the other hand, had done this intentionally. She liked drawing the attention of every man in a room.
The bartender gave her the Cosmo she’d ordered and she took a sip. “You looked lost in thought when I walked in. What’s on your mind?”
“The mess we’ve made.”
She nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that too. The only way to get this plan back on track is to break them up.”
“Get the plan back on track? You must be kidding.”
“Of course I’m not kidding. Why would you think that? We simply need to discredit Sara and convince Benjamin that she lied about this whole thing.”
“Discredit Sara? I don’t see how you can do that.”
She smiled slyly. “I think it might be pretty easy and I have an idea about exactly how to do it, but I’ll need your help.”
“I’m all ears, but I doubt it will work.”
“Have a little faith. All we need to do is convince Benjamin that Sara isn’t who he thinks she is.”
“And how do you propose to do that?”
“Simple. We just need some evidence that Sara is cheating on him.”
Mark barked a laugh. “But she isn’t.”
“The truth has never gotten in your way before. We have to manipulate the situation a little.” She frowned and took another drink.
Mark knew he should probably just cut this off at the pass, but he wanted to hear her idea. Maybe, just maybe, there was some way for him to get Sara back. “Okay, I’m all ears.”
“You’ve always said Sara is a creature of habit. She does the same thing every day.”
“Yes, she has a standard routine from which she never varies.”
“If I remember right, she always goes out in the middle of the day.”
“Yeah. She gets up early in the morning and spends several hours writing but around eleven, she takes a break and leaves the apartment.”
“Where does she go?”
“Most of the time she goes to the gym and swims. Sometimes she’ll go for a walk instead, but she always leaves the house for a while.”
“And when she gets back? What does she do then?”
“She usually showers, has lunch, and then spends a few more hours writing.” He smiled. “And before she starts writing again, she always makes herself an iced coffee with whatever is left in the pot. She says it fuels her muse.”
“Damn, Mark, could she be any more boring?”
“I prefer to think of it as predictable.”
Daphne gave a wave of her hand. “Boring, predictable, it doesn’t matter. It just means it will be easy to accomplish what needs to be done. What does she do in the evening?”
“You mean if she’s not spending it with me?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, because if we don’t figure this out, she won’t ever spend any more time with you.
Mark frowned. “Right.” He’d forgotten for a moment and Daphne’s reminder made him want Sara back even more. “Well, if she isn’t going out, when she stops writing for the day, she has a glass of wine while she cooks dinner. Then, she’ll usually watch a movie or read for a while, and she’s nearly always in bed by ten. But I don’t see how any of this is helpful.”
Daphne let out an exasperated sigh. “Mark, you have a key to her apartment. All you have to do is let yourself in while she’s out in the middle of the day. You can slip something in her wine to relax her and then come back later that night when she’s asleep and take photos of the two of you. Then you simply give them to me, and I rush to him with the incriminating pictures that I found on your phone, as proof that Sara is the one cheating. I can tell him she made up t
he whole thing about finding us together just to get to him.”
Mark shook his head. “That will never work, Daphne.”
“Why do you think it won’t work? It’s an excellent plan.”
“First, Sara and I have been dating for quite a while. Having pictures of us together only proves that. It doesn’t implicate Sara in anything.”
“Of course it does. The date stamp on the photo will be recent. He’ll know it happened after he became interested.”
“Anyone with the smallest amount of savvy can adjust a date stamp. And then there is the whole problem of drugging her wine. How will I know which bottle to put it in?”
“Sometimes you’re really an idiot, Mark. You said she only has one glass of wine, so there will be an open bottle. Put it in that one.”
“Okay, genius, but what if there isn’t an open one?”
She shrugged. “You could open one. She probably wouldn’t remember whether one was open or not.”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
Daphne ignored his doubts. “But if the bottle was full, you’d have to put a lot in to be sure it would put her to sleep. Too little and it won’t work.”
Mark frowned. “Yeah but if I put in too much and she drinks a couple glasses before it kicks in, it could kill her. No, Daphne, it’s a bad idea.”
“Okay, so putting it in her wine could be a problem but the whole idea isn’t bad. It just needs a little tweaking.” She thought for a moment. “I know, you could put the drug in her coffee. You said she makes iced coffee out of what’s left over from morning.”
“Again, pictures of Sara and I together will not convince Benjamin. He’ll just think you doctored the photos. This won’t work.”
Daphne frowned and sipped her Cosmo.
“I think we just need to let whatever this is between them run its course. He’s bound to move on soon,” said Mark.
“And where does that leave either of us? If he moves on to someone else, I’m out of the picture.”
“I think that’s inevitable, Daphne.”
“I refuse to believe that.” She took another sip of her drink. Then a sly smile spread across her face. “I know what to do. Instead of pictures of you and her, we need someone else.”
“Another guy? No, freaking way. That’d be wrong—like rape. And how would you logically have the pictures to give Ben?”
“Wake up, Mark. First, even if you drug her and have sex with her, it is rape. But I don’t intend to take pictures of her with another guy.”
“Then what do you intend?”
“The pictures will be of me and her. And I will manipulate the date stamp to sometime before the cruise.”
“What good will that do? I thought you wanted him back.”
She chuckled. “I can tell him I had planned to surprise him with a ménage with me and Sara. But she decided to try to get him for herself and made up the whole story of finding you and me together.”
“You have tried multiple times to convince him that Sara is the one lying and you haven’t been able to yet.”
“But he’ll believe this. He’s wanted a ménage for a long time. I didn’t. I’ll tell him it was all intended to be a surprise for him, but Sara got greedy and ruined it.” Daphne smiled smugly. “He might punish her. Maybe he’ll let me watch.”
“No chance Daphne. Benjamin has always been rigid about consent. He doesn’t play with someone who isn’t willing. Besides I don’t want her hurt. I just want…”
“I know. You want to get our plan back on the rails, and so do I. But for that to happen I need to get back with Benjamin and you need to win Sara again. Don’t forget, this is the long con. The goal has always been for me to marry and fleece Benjamin, while you do the same to Sara. Then you and I can skip off into the sunset comfortably wealthy.”
The long con. It had been her idea from the start, but it wasn’t what Mark wanted—at least not anymore. Still Benjamin would have to break up with Sara if Mark had any hope of winning her back. He didn’t like this but it might work.
“Okay.”
“Excellent. I am absolutely confident that this plan will pay off. I may even be able to lay a little groundwork. In the airport or on the plane home, I can be sure he overhears a few things that could be misinterpreted. It will be more evidence when the time comes.”
~ * ~
To Mark’s great disappointment, he didn’t see Sara and Benjamin in the cruise terminal in Venice. Benjamin’s secretary had arranged for a driver, but apparently Benjamin sent a message saying he wouldn’t be flying straight home and the driver was there only to meet Mark and Daphne.
“Where’s Sara?” demanded Daphne.
Mark had to force himself not to roll his eyes. “Evidently with Benjamin.”
Daphne smiled. “I bet she isn’t. I bet he decided to make a quick trip to Monte Carlo and she just wants us to think she’s with him. She probably just changed her flight by a day and she’ll be home tomorrow.”
But she wasn’t home the next day. Mark went by her apartment that evening after she should have been there. The car was in the lot, exactly where it had been parked when they left. Additionally, the curtains over the balcony doors were drawn. She loved the natural light so she opened them first thing in the morning and closed them just before going to bed. He was tempted to go in and check, but decided against it. If those curtains were closed, she was not at home. For the rest of the week he drove by at least once every day. But her car never moved and the curtains were never open.
He also called Benjamin’s office several times that week. Per his secretary, “Mr. Talbot is still out of the country. I’ll tell him you called.”
.
Chapter 10
The morning the cruise ship was due to arrive back in Venice, Benedict rose early, before daylight, and dressed as quietly as he could.
Nevertheless, Sara woke. “It’s early. We don’t have to get up yet.”
“I know, but since we are leaving for Scotland as soon as we arrive, it will be my only opportunity to see Venice and the Lido, where my home was. I thought I’d go up on deck, where I can see well.”
“It won’t be your only opportunity to see Venice. We can come back anytime you wish. In fact, I’d really like to see it with you. But I do understand wanting to see it this morning. Give me a minute to dress.”
“You don’t have to come with me. Stay sleeping.”
“I’d like to see it with you, through your eyes.”
He nodded. “I’d like that too.”
So, in less than ten minutes they were up on the port side deck watching as the cruise ship sailed closer to Venice. As the sun was rising, they neared the Lido.
“There it is. Wow, so many buildings.”
“Yes, it’s a very posh place to live now and the beach is beautiful.”
It was hard to believe that two weeks ago, he had lived a fairly isolated existence on that very island—two-hundred and forty-eight years ago. After the ship had rounded the north side of the Lido, he took her hand and walked to the starboard side of the ship, to get a better look at Venice.
“There’s the Arsenale. My shipyard was there.” They were alone, so it was safe to talk. “It has changed some, but not as much as the Lido.”
Sara nodded. “Much of Venice remains very like it was hundreds of years ago.”
He realized how true this was as they sailed past the Ducal Palace and San Marco. There were electric lights and motorboats, but there were also black gondolas almost identical to those from his time. The canals they passed were unchanged and many of the buildings had changed very little.
“I remember you mentioning finding a little passageway that you thought could be a time portal in your next book.”
“Yes. It’s not far from the Rialto Bridge.”
He smiled. “I thought it was a bit odd that you would write a book about time travel using portals, when you’ve seen the results of the pocket watch. But now that I’m seeing Venice looking ver
y much as it did hundreds of years ago, I can see how it would be easy to imagine that portals to earlier eras were hidden in its streets and alleys.”
As they approached the cruise ship terminals and the scenery became more modern, Sara and Benedict went to the buffet to have breakfast before returning to their suite to pack their few remaining items. Most of their luggage had been collected the previous evening.
At eight, they met Gabe and Elsie at their suite and disembarked from the ship via their private entrance. A private van already loaded with their luggage awaited them. They reached the airport about twenty-five minutes later, where they boarded the private jet belonging to Elsie’s friend. By nine, they were in the air flying to Inverness and they were preparing to land just after eleven.
There were many things in the twenty-first century that had amazed Benedict: the massive cruise ship, automobiles, television, movies and music to name but a few. However, flying was by far the most astounding. He had traveled by ship from Scotland to Venice when he was ten-years-old, and it had taken two-and-a-half months and it had only taken two-and-a-half hours to return there in the twenty-first century.
They had flown over the Alps.
As they approached Scotland, Benedict had expected to see clouds, but it was a clear day. He frowned as he looked out the window. “It’s sunny.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?” asked Sara.
“Yes, I suppose it is. It’s just not what I expected. I remembered Scotland being cool and gray much of the time. As a matter of fact, my mother hated Venice because of the sunny weather.”
“You’re kidding,” said Elsie.
“I’m not kidding. I never understood it. I’ve always liked sunshine and blue skies.”
Gabe said. “It looks like we are going to get plenty of that. Apparently, all of northern Europe has been unusually warm for the last week or so.”
Benedict thought about that for a moment, remembering the conversation he’d had with Gertrude regarding his mother and how she had hated everything about Venice, including the fine weather. About how she had begged to go back to Scotland and then had died there. He remembered Gertrude’s words about how his mother had given up on life and how she knew that had caused his heart to ache over the years. Gertrude had been right. In choosing not to live without his father, a part of him felt his mother had abandoned him.
What if I Fall: The Pocket Watch Chronicles Page 11
