by Lisse Smith
I didn’t know what time it was. I didn’t want to find out, because I knew it was too late. I knew I wasn’t safe in my own apartment, and I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t believe I had been so foolish.
“It’s all right, Lilly.” The words were spoken over and over again, the calmness of their manner slowly eating through the terror that gripped me.
“I’m here. It’s OK. Just breathe.” I came to the realization that I was sitting on my bed, being rocked gently in someone’s arms. Lawrence’s arms. My face pressed against his chest as hiccupping sobs escaped from my body.
I pulled away from him and saw the deep sadness in his eyes. He knew I hurt; he didn’t know why, but it was easy to see that he cared, and the more I looked at him, the further away the darkness went.
I stood up, slowly and hesitantly, and he rose to stand before me. Unhurriedly, but with determination, I reached behind me and unzipped my dress. I let it fall open at the back and then pulled the long sleeves down each arm.
Lawrence’s breath hissed out between his lips, but he remained totally still.
The dress dropped to the ground, and then my bra followed, and eventually everything. I stood before Lawrence totally naked except for the glittering diamond choker he had given to me as a gift.
“I don’t feel the darkness when I’m with you.” I whispered the words quietly to him. “Tonight, please help me to feel something else. Help me to forget.” I couldn’t stand the pain, not here, not with him. It was too all-consuming and frightening to share, and only Lawrence could make me forget.
He reached out and ran his fingers down my face, his touch trailing gently over my skin, then he pulled my body against his. His lips found mine in a soft, precious kiss. One that had the darkness receding; made the memories that had hovered so close to my consciousness fade away.
Lawrence’s kiss devoured me; he worshiped me and left me wanting so much more. He helped me strip his jacket off, and the tie and shirt, and then I ran my hands down the firm strength of his chest, the sculptured flatness of his stomach, and the hard ridges of his hips. My hands fumbled with this belt until he took it off himself, and then he was as naked as I.
My body exploded with heat the moment his nakedness pressed against my own. He was just as beautiful as I imagined he would be, and so much more tender.
“Lilly.” He whispered my name as he lowered me onto the bed, his body following to spread over me, his hands and lips seeking and knowing every part of my body, his heat warming me in ways that had my body bucking beneath his touch.
“Yes, oh please,” I called, needing him to touch me, because touching, feeling, drove the darkness away and left me with nothing left to think about except more of that feeling. He stole all thought and all fear from my body as he finally claimed me as his own.
I was robbed of thought and speech for a long while; the beauty and the peace of what we shared touched me deeply. Lawrence lay beside me, his body half over mine, his arms held tightly around me as he placed soft kisses in my hair. He held on like he was afraid he would lose me at any moment; and it was with absolute certainty in my own mind that indeed it was possible, more than possible, that I burst into tears.
I never cried. I couldn’t cry. Except on Christmas Day. That day I used up my entire year’s worth of tears. Every year it was the same. I cried from midnight till dawn on Boxing Day. I remembered everything, every moment of what I had lost. Every secret exposed and raw to me to remember in startling clarity. The loss and horror, and this year it was no different.
Except for the very real man who held my sobbing body the entire time. Not once did he budge from that bed, not once did he lighten his hold, and not once did he question my actions or offer any words of false comfort. He held onto me and rode out the storm.
He was sleeping quietly beside me at dawn on Boxing Day, the unofficial end of my painful exile. His arms were still wrapped around me, and both our bodies were damp from my tears. He looked harrowed, and I knew that I was the cause. That he had managed to get any sleep was astonishing, so I tried not to wake him now.
I reached out and snagged my clutch from the bedside table, dragging it over to me so that I could flip the phone out into my hand. I dialed the number and waited for the long-distance call to connect.
A sleepy voice echoed down the phone. “Lilly?”
“Shhh,” I whispered quietly and then held my breath as Lawrence stirred uneasily beside me.
“What’s wrong?”
“Hi, Reed.” It calmed me to hear my sister’s voice. I missed her so much.
“Hey.” Reed said quietly. “Why am I being quiet?” she asked.
“Lawrence is sleeping beside me.” I knew she would love that.
“Oh, my God!” Her voice rose in volume and I could hear her husband’s muttered complaint in the background. “Sorry, honey,” she apologized to him. “Lilly?”
I laughed quietly. “I might have slept with him,” I admitted. “But that’s not really the point. He stayed.”
I didn’t need to explain any more for her to understand the enormity of what I was saying. “All day?”
“Yeah. What does that mean?”
“It means that he really likes you,” Reed told me.
“Or that he’s crazy.”
“No, honey, that’s your MO,” she reminded me. “He’s not crazy, at least I don’t think so. He’s a strong powerful man Lilly. He’s used to being able to get anything he wants in life, and if he can’t get it with his looks or his intelligence, then he buys it. You, however, aren’t cooperating with him. He tried getting you with his looks, and he tried to buy you and you turned down both. The only thing he’s got left is to actually offer you what probably no one else has ever seen—his true self.”
“What does that mean?” I asked. My sister liked to garble.
“I’m saying that I doubt there was another woman that he’s ever been with who he even cared enough about to ask why they were upset,” she explained. “You, he stays for a whole day just to hold you while you cry.”
“You’re confusing me.”
“I’m not trying to. I’m just saying it like I see it.”
“You can’t see anything,” I told her. “You’re making it up as you go along.”
“Yes, but some of my best ideas happen that way,” she retorted. “And besides, if you didn’t think I was on the right track, you wouldn’t be getting so defensive about it.”
I did have to agree with her on one point. I couldn’t see Lawrence consoling a weeping society bride, but then I didn’t know that much about his past associations. Maybe he had a love that meant more than just a casual engagement.
“So I take it that you’re OK now?” Reed interrupted my musings.
“I am,” I told her. “Better than I expected.”
“Are you going to keep seeing him?”
“I work with him every day,” I reminded her.
“Yes, but now he’s seen you naked, and I doubt very much that he’s going to forget that anytime soon.”
I had the same worry. “I’m not sure,” I admitted honestly. “It’s probably not a good idea. Look how well it ended the last time I slept with my boss.”
“That’s true. Dad got your present, by the way; however, he wonders why you would send him a watch.”
“What’s wrong with a watch?” I asked in surprise.
“The hands are too small for him to see the time.” She laughed quietly over the phone.
“Ah, crap. Sorry,” I apologized. “I didn’t even think about that. I just thought he’d like it.”
“No, he loves it,” she assured me. “He won’t take it out of the box, and he won’t ever wear it, but he does love it. He gets it out to show everyone— even the neighbors have had a look, although I wish he’d stop showing it around quite so much. I don’t think it’s a good idea to go around telling anyone who’ll listen that you have a Rolex in your sock drawer.”
That was so typical of m
y dad. I snuggled deeper into Lawrence’s arms as I pictured my dad with the watch I had sent him as a Christmas “I’m still alive” gift. I smiled, a genuine smile of affection. I missed them both immensely.
I turned around so that the phone was on my other ear and came face to face with a very awake Lawrence.
“Gotta go,” I whispered into the phone and instantly disconnected the call. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” I told him and found myself suddenly shy.
“Who were you talking to?” he asked quietly and I relaxed against him again when his hand rubbed gently over my back.
“My sister.” I think that was the first time in a very long time that I’d told anyone anything about my past. Lawrence would be the only person in my current life who even knew I had a sister.
I was surprised but relieved when he didn’t make a big deal about it. He merely raised an eyebrow in response and pulled me tighter into his arms. “You look tired,” he said. “Get some sleep.”
“I can’t,” I countered, and then I made a snap decision to explain further. He had seen enough to deserve to understand. “I need to wash it off my body,” I explained. “I can still feel it clinging to me, and I won’t feel right until I shower.”
“I understand,” he said quietly, and let me pull away from him. “Go. I’m not going anywhere.”
Strangely, that was a comforting thought. I took a while showering, I always did after my exile. It was cleansing to me, a way to physically wash away the memories. I was wearing a short cotton nightgown when I came out of the shower and found Lawrence missing from my bed. I hadn’t expected that and was taken aback to find him gone.
“Lilly.” His voice drew my attention to the door where he stood wearing nothing more than a pair of boxer shorts. His hair was still damp, and I realized he had taken a shower at the same time I did. His hand was stretched out toward me in invitation.
I knew he was asking me to make a decision. Did I come voluntarily to him, in the full knowledge of what he was asking? When I wasn’t overcome with grief and sorrow, when I was just me, did I still choose him?
Yes, I did.
I walked over and took his hand, and he drew me across the hall and into his own bedroom. The sheets in here were in much better shape, but more than that, it was symbolic that he chose for us to sleep in his bed. It made it real; and it made it my choice, my decision to enter his space, his world.
I lay down, and he pulled my back up against his chest. His arm snaked around my waist and curled up against my chest. He placed a soft kiss in my hair, and then we both drifted off to sleep.
Ten
Lawrence slipped from his bed a few hours later. He was too restless to sleep and had spent most of the last hour watching Lilly rest.
It was difficult to conceive the beautiful woman sleeping peacefully in his bed was the same one who he had held for those long dark hours. He found it difficult to come to terms with the level of pain that he had witnessed, and more, he was astonished by the amount of strength it must take for her to keep going every day. That she got up and continued her life the way she did astounded him. He knew she had tragedy in her life, and he knew that she wasn’t what you would call entirely normal, but he hadn’t been able to guess at the magnitude of how much she hurt.
He wasn’t so sure, if the situation had been reversed, if he would have had the strength to do what she did.
Lawrence stopped at the door and spent a long minute just staring at her. He wanted to make sure he hadn’t disturbed her, because he didn’t want to be gone if she woke up. He wanted her to become familiar with him lying beside her, and to not be there when she woke would give her an excuse to escape back to her own world.
And Lawrence was very determined to keep her in his.
Charlie was making a sandwich in the kitchen when Lawrence emerged from the hall. He spared Charlie a quick glance before crossing the room and calling quietly down the hall for Frost.
“Boss.” Frost acknowledged Lawrence with a nod as he joined the other two men in the kitchen.
Lawrence waited a long while before speaking. “Lilly is very important to me.” He spoke the words carefully, and both Frost and Charlie nodded but remained silent. “She can be difficult.” Charlie nodded with a bit more enthusiasm than necessary; after all, he knew more about guarding Lilly than anyone. “She is allowed to be impulsive, but you must ensure that she is always safe,” Lawrence went on. “Lilly won’t travel without me, not anymore. At least, the plan is for her to not leave my side, so you should be able to coordinate the security measures around us both. But Charlie, your primary target is Lilly. Frost will remain with me.”
“What about when she is being difficult?” Charlie prompted.
“Lilly is entitled to her privacy, and if she orders you to back down, then you do that.” Charlie raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Of course, you’ll only go so far as it takes for her to not see you; then you call me, and I’ll handle it.”
“Is she OK?” Charlie asked.
“She’s doing the best she can,” Lawrence replied. “She has a lot of baggage from her past, and there are certain things that are difficult for her to deal with. We just have to try to remember when and what they are, and make allowances for those times.”
“Are we going out tonight?” Frost asked.
“No. We’ll stay here until we leave for New York.” Lawrence pushed away from the counter. “You two are off duty until then. You are free to come and go as you please.” Then he walked down the hall and back to watch Lilly sleep.
The clock on the bedside table glowed starkly in the semidarkness of the room. It was just past 7:00 p.m., which didn’t surprise me, because I always slept away most of Boxing Day. I felt the bed dip beside me, and I rolled over into Lawrence’s waiting arms.
“Good morning, or evening.” His rich deep voice rolled over me.
“Hey.” My voice had a husky timbre to it that made his eyes darken with desire.
“I wasn’t sure you would ever wake up,” he told me, his hands smoothing the hair off my face.
He was trying to keep things light. He must have a million questions about what had happened, both with my tears and about us, but he knew when to ask questions and when not to.
My gaze was drawn to the space behind him. “Do you ever stop working?” It was obvious what he had been doing while I slept. There were papers spread over the floor beside the bed, and his laptop was sitting on the side table.
“Depends what I have to distract me,” he replied, with a sexy grin.
I rolled over him and sat astride his hips, my hair falling forward to brush against his face. I flicked it out of the way and lowered my face down to his. When only inches separated us, I breathed against his lips. “Does this qualify as a distraction?”
I guess it must have, because the next second, my nightgown was over my head, and he was making love to me with an intensity and awareness that left me reeling.
The first time we had sex was something I’ll always remember; the rawness of it was potent and deeply fulfilling; but this time, when the gentle lights of the room bathed us both and we took the time to feel and see each other, it meant so much more. This time, it was because we both wanted it, we both enjoyed the feel of our bodies pressed together. The joy I found in his arms was more than I expected, so much more.
“Do we really have to go back to our lives?” I asked later, as I sat beside him in the bed. He had managed to rustle up some food and coffee, and we both sat unabashedly naked sharing the spoils.
“Which bit don’t you want to go back to?” he asked casually.
“The part where everyone else exists.”
“That part’s a bit difficult to change.”
I shrugged. “You can do anything,” I joked.
“I wish.” He threw a grape at me. “If I was that good, I would have had you in my bed a year ago.”
That was a good question, actually. “Why did you want me in your bed?” I
asked him. “I know the sort of women that are available to you, and I’m nothing like them. The most beautiful women in the world would kill to have you, yet from the start you seemed interested in me. And don’t give me crap about love at first sight, which is total shit and you know it.”
“Lilly,” Lawrence said, and laughed aloud. “You have such a way with words sometimes. But to answer your question, you intrigued me.”
“Like a toy?”
“Not like a toy.” He leaned over and placed a soft kiss on my lips. “You intrigued me as a person, and the more I noticed you, the more you interested me. I just knew that we would connect.”
I watched him as he lay down on his side of the bed, one arm supporting his head. He was gorgeous, dressed or undressed; he had a way about him that, exactly as he had phrased it, intrigued me also.
“OK,” I finally admitted. “I can accept that.”
“I’m glad.”
I hated to build any barriers between us so soon, and I hated to take the conversation somewhere that would cause either of us pain, but there were things that needed to be said.
I hopped off the bed and grabbed a robe that lay over a chair. I couldn’t have this conversation naked. Lawrence rose and slipped on his boxers, then sat back down on the bed to watch me pace slowly around the room. I was nervous, and getting too close to him now would only prejudice my mind into accepting something that I couldn’t live with.
“You know that I can’t do relationships,” I began. My voice had leveled out and lost all its amusement.
“What qualifies as a relationship?” he asked carefully.
“Sex, love, marriage, long-term commitment.” I shrugged.
“When you accepted the job here,” Lawrence replied, speaking slowly and with precise thought, “you told me you would try it for a month and see if I ‘grew’ on you.”
I nodded, remembering that conversation, and also acknowledging that he had in fact grown on me.
“I’m not asking for you to love me,” he continued. “I’m not saying that I love you. I’m not asking you to commit to anything long term, and I’m not asking you to marry me. You might have a fight on your hands about the sex, though.” His face creased in a small smile. “I’m not sure I’ll be willing to give that up.”
