“Damn you, Mysha! I can’t believe you think I’m like that. You don’t know me at all.”
During the strained silence, Ariel’s eyes ached with unshed tears. She understood Mysha being hurt and lashing out, but for Mysha to think she was a lying, manipulative bitch—
“You’re right, Ariel. I really don’t know you at all.” Mysha sneeringly asked, “How much do you charge her to fuck you?”
Ariel barely kept from completely breaking down in tears. In a trembling voice, she said, “Mysha, I’m sorry. That’s all I know to say.”
“You’ve said enough. Get out!”
Mysha threw open the door, and Ariel quickly exited into the bleakness. The slamming of the door felt like a blow to her heart.
Ariel mounted her bike, wiped the tears from her eyes, and pulled on her helmet, yanking the straps tight. She would ride into the mountains today and give herself to the road, letting her bike take her away from the pain, and away from herself for a while.
Chapter Nineteen
“HOW WAS YOUR day, ma’am?” Mrs. Belfort asked as she took Kiernan’s coat.
“It went well,” was her automatic reply, even though she was exhausted from a hellacious day at the office negotiating with representatives of the Chinese Government who wanted to dissect every point in a contract for delivery of freighters. “Anything I need to know?”
“Michael drove Miss Ariel over to her mother’s at nine this morning so she could pick up her motorcycle. Miss Ariel has not returned.”
Kiernan hesitated before saying, “When she’s back, tell her I want to see her right away. I’m going to my suite to shower, and then I’ll be in my study.”
“Yes, ma’am, I will.”
Kiernan headed up the stairs for her shower and fresh clothes. If Ariel wasn’t home by the time she changed clothes, she would call Joanna Thorsen to find out what was keeping her.
After she showered, she put on a dark green, cowl-neck sweater, and a pair of brown slacks. She glanced at the clock on her bedside table and saw it was only twenty minutes until dinner was served.
Dinner was the only time she’d been with Ariel in the last week. Kiernan had tried to entice her into going out to dinner one night, watching a movie at home, or going for a drive. But Ariel complained she was still tired from her sickness, which Kiernan knew was an excuse to avoid being in her company.
She had believed Ariel was actually opening up to her until that day in the orchard. Kiernan gave a mental cringe when she recalled what happened. Ever since that day, her desire for Ariel was right beneath the surface, erupting forth at the most inopportune times, like on the elevator at work when a pretty blonde woman got on, reminding her of Ariel. Or the scent and taste of the apple she ate for a snack one day, reminding her of how enticingly sexual Ariel had been when she took a bite of the apple Kiernan offered.
These memories, and her desire, were making it hard for her to concentrate on her work. Now she was having erotic dreams about Ariel that woke her in the early hours of the morning and prevented her from falling back to sleep unless she pleasured herself. But that method didn’t always work, often leaving her frustrated and lonely, wishing the object of her dreams was sharing her bed. But the way things were going with Ariel, that wasn’t going to happen.
She hastened downstairs to her study, sat at her desk and ordered, “Telecom on, contact Joanna Thorsen.”
After three beeps Joanna answered, “Hello. Oh. Ms. O’Shay, what can I do for you?”
The vid-screen wasn’t set on transmit at the Thorsen residence, so she couldn’t see Joanna’s face. But Joanna could apparently see her, so she kept her countenance neutral in light of Joanna’s frosty tone.
This was always an awkward moment for her, because she was never sure how to address Ariel’s mother. Joanna was always formal with her, letting her disdain of Kiernan show in referring to her as Ms. O’Shay.
“Ms. Thorsen, is Ariel there?”
There was a pause. “No. She left here at one.”
“Did she say where she was going?”
“Only that she was going out on her motorcycle.”
Kiernan couldn’t help but let the uneasiness enter her voice. “Does she usually ride for this long, and when it’s dark?”
The screen flicked on and Kiernan saw Joanna’s face. “A few times she has ridden too far and didn’t make it home until a few minutes after sundown. I’m sure that’s the reason. It’s been a while since she’s had a chance to ride, and the time has probably gotten away from her.”
“Do you think I should contact the Sheriff’s department?”
“No. They would contact you if she were in an accident. She’ll show up. She doesn’t make it a habit of staying out late.”
Kiernan hadn’t informed Ariel she needed to have her driver’s license changed to her married name, or have her new address and telecom number entered into the system. If she were in an accident, they would contact Joanna. “If you hear anything, please call me immediately.”
Joanna hesitated and then kindly said, “I will. Call it a mother’s intuition, but she’s fine.”
“Then I’ll trust your intuition. Thank you, Joanna.”
“You’re welcome, Kiernan. Bye.”
There was a knock at the door and Kiernan thought, Ariel. “Enter.” Disappointment filled her when she saw it was Mrs. Belfort.
“Ma’am, dinner is ready.”
“I’m not hungry. I’ll go to the kitchen and get something later.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll tell Ricardo to keep it warm for you.”
“Thank you.”
Mrs. Belfort departed, and Kiernan’s thoughts sped right away to Ariel. Kiernan wasn’t thrilled Ariel rode motorcycles. They didn’t call them suicide machines for nothing. She’d hoped that giving Ariel the Ferrari would get her attention on something safer, but Ariel had never taken the car out, not once. Kiernan had to have Michael take it for a spin a couple of times a week to keep it in running order.
She leaned back into her chair, worry nagging her, as well as a bit of anger that Ariel hadn’t called to let her know she was all right. Perhaps she was visiting a friend. A thought entered her head, and her stomach contracted. No, she thought. She wouldn’t— Not after Kiernan ordered her not to do it. Her memory replayed as much as she remembered about ordering Ariel not to have any contact with Mysha Leavill. She couldn’t recall Ariel ever saying she would do as she requested.
A wave of rage rushed through her. She was with Mysha!
THE TEMPERATURE TOOK a drastic dip after sunset, pushing Ariel toward Crestview. It was hard for her to think of Crestview as home. She doubted she would ever think of it that way. Home was a refuge from the punches and knocks received while living life, and where one felt surrounded by love and caring. Definitely not the way she would describe Kiernan’s residence.
She swung onto the road to Crestview and stopped at the gate, lifting her visor. The guard on duty, Henry, hastened over and shone the retina scanner into her eyes. Satisfied, he went back to the security station, opened the gate, and motioned her through. She continued up the road in second gear, then gently tapped the back brake before swinging her Harley into Crestview’s drive, her headlight sweeping across the trunks of the trees lining the drive. Their black shadows closed in and shortened the closer the light came to them. A glance at the lighted face of the chronometer on the fork cap showed 6:50. Dinner was over, but there were always leftovers. She could prepare a plate and take it to her suite to eat.
She wondered whether Kiernan would say anything about why she was getting back so late. She had ridden up to Lookout Mountain, enjoying the freedom of riding, and she managed to lose herself for a while from the trauma of meeting with Mysha. She forcefully pushed her encounter with Mysha out of her thoughts, knowing she would weep if she didn’t.
Gearing down to first, she pulled in the circular drive and parked her Harley to the side. She would ask Kiernan if she could have a space in t
he garage for her bike. This shouldn’t present a problem, since the garage was big enough to hold at least a dozen cars. She had counted seven vehicles, including the Ferrari wedding gift.
She removed her helmet and pulled off her gloves with her teeth, dropping them into the helmet. She ran her fingers through her hair, bounded up the steps, and palmed the keypad. She was on her way to the stairs to go up to her suite when Mrs. Belfort appeared. “Miss Ariel. Ms. O’Shay said for you to see her as soon as you returned. She’s in her study.”
“Thank you.”
She was turning to go down the hall to Kiernan’s study when Mrs. Belfort said, “I’ll take your jacket and helmet, and put them in your suite.”
After handing Mrs. Belfort her helmet, she unzipped and removed her jacket, handing that to her.
Mrs. Belfort sniffed disapprovingly when seeing her black Harley t-shirt.
Ariel said, “What? You don’t like it? Is it the flaming skull?”
“That’s hardly suitable for a pretty young lady such as yourself. Makes you look like one of those—Brazen Hussies.”
Ariel found it interesting that the prim Mrs. Belfort would know of the notorious all female motorcycle gang headquartered in Chicago. “Afraid I don’t qualify as a Brazen Hussy. I don’t have any tattoos—yet.”
“Oh, that would not go over well with the Missus.”
“Maybe I should get one then. You think Kiernan would like a flaming skull tattoo on my left back shoulder?”
Mrs. Belfort laughed in amusement and then shook her head. “What do you think? You better not keep her waiting.”
Ariel made her way down the hall and knocked on the study door. Kiernan called out, “Enter.”
Kiernan sat behind her desk staring angrily. Uh oh, Ariel thought. This didn’t look good.
KIERNAN WATCHED ARIEL enter and stand casually in front of the desk. She pushed her chair back and raked Ariel up and down pointedly, stopping her scrutiny briefly on her chest, noticing with distaste the t-shirt she wore. She leaned back in her chair. “Well?” Kiernan asked, drawing the word out.
Ariel shrugged, assuming a nonchalant air. “Well—what?”
The impudence of this reply sent a rush of annoyance through Kiernan. She pushed up from the chair, sending it back, and stalked up to Ariel, “Don’t you dare play games with me. You know perfectly well ‘what.’ I called your mother to see whether you were still visiting. She told me you left at one. Where were you for the last six hours?”
“I took a ride up to Lookout Mountain and stopped at some of the scenic overlooks.”
“Where else did you go?”
Ariel’s posture tensed, her gaze defiant. “That’s none of your damn business!”
Kiernan ground her back teeth together and felt the pressure build in her forehead and temples. “Everything you do is my business. You remember that.”
Ariel lolled her head to one side, directing her gaze upward as if this were all nonsense and boring.
This impertinent display grated, spurring Kiernan to push up closer, now in Ariel’s personal space. She struggled to maintain her cool and her voice came out dangerously quiet. “You were with her—weren’t you?”
“Her?” Ariel asked innocently, but her expression bordered on insolence.
“Don’t you dare pretend with me!” Kiernan wanted to slap her.
“Yes, I dropped by to visit Mysha.” Ariel’s tone was matter-offact, but her posture tensed.
“After I told you not to see her ever again?”
“We had some things we needed to discuss.”
Kiernan pushed up closer, now only a few inches away from Ariel. “Discuss? While you were in bed with her?”
Ariel’s mouth shot open in shock. Taking a step back, she gave Kiernan an incredulous stare. “This is fucking unbelievable! Nothing like that happened!”
“Did you really go up to Lookout Mountain, or were you with her all the time, cheating? Cheating on me!” Kiernan’s anger accelerated to the boiling point.
Ariel’s eyes widened. “You’re wrong. I didn’t cheat on you, and nothing happened. We talked. That’s all.”
“Do you take me for a fool?”
“Yes! If you believe I did anything but talk then you’re a fool!”
“Am I now? You admit you were with her.”
“I wasn’t even there ten minutes. I had to see her, to tell her—I had to put closure to our past. That’s all.”
One image seared through Kiernan’s thoughts: Ariel and Mysha making love and Ariel giving to Mysha what should rightfully be hers as Ariel’s wife. She grabbed Ariel by the upper arms, pushed her face close to Ariel’s, and shouted, “You’re lying! Never lie to me!”
“Take your hands off me!” She slapped Kiernan’s hands from her arms, shoving her away. “Don’t you ever again put your hands on me like that, or accuse me of lying. I’m not a liar—like some people I know.” She accompanied this last part with an accusing glare.
Kiernan gulped in shock, appalled at how she’d let the argument escalate. Still, she couldn’t help the jealousy and anger she felt because Ariel had disregarded her orders and seen Mysha.
Stepping back, she took a deep breath and scrutinized Ariel’s expression and body language. Kiernan had to trust her own gut feeling which was that Ariel was being truthful. Ariel wasn’t proficient in hiding her emotions or in subterfuge. “I’ll accept that you’re telling me the truth then. Did you reveal the reasons to—Ms. Leavill—for this marriage?”
“Only my reasons—that I did it for my family. Don’t worry. I didn’t tell her your reasons.”
“Did the possibility ever cross your mind the media might have been following and taking pictures of you entering and leaving Ms. Leavill’s apartment?”
Ariel’s eyes widened, then she recovered and returned to her regular guarded expression. “No one followed me.”
“Are you sure?”
Ariel’s eyes darted away with nervous uncertainty.
Kiernan continued, “You have to be careful where you go and who you’re seen with. I want a list of all the places you intend to frequent and of all the people you intend to visit. I want you to keep me informed when you’re planning to leave the house and grounds, where you’re going, and how long you’ll be gone. And you’re not to see Mysha Leavill again. Do I make myself clear?”
Ariel’s face flamed dark red, twisting into a mask of disdain. “Who the hell do you think you are!”
“And I don’t want to see you wear that shirt again. It makes you look—trampy.”
“What the—” Ariel angrily stretched out the front of her shirt. “Oh? Is it the skull? Tough ta-ta. I like it. I’m even getting a tattoo that matches it. What right do you have to tell me who I can see and what I can wear?”
“I have every right! I’m your wife, and I’m Kiernan O’Shay. You’re an O’Shay now, and it’s your responsibility to act the part. Until you learn to do that, I’m making decisions on where you can go and who you can see. You need to watch what you wear when you’re out in public. And there will be no tattoos. I’ll not let you dress like trash. For your own protection and the protection of my good name and that of Stellardyne I can’t have you—”
“Oh, no! If you’re under the impression you can treat me like one of your subordinates at Stellardyne, then you’re delusional! We may be married, but this isn’t the Nineteenth Century, and I’m not your obedient little wife! I’m outta here. I need some fresh air.” Ariel brushed past Kiernan and stalked toward the door.
Kiernan knew she had lost control of the situation and was now desperate to find a way to change it to her advantage. She decided to risk a ploy. Everything could blow up in her face if this didn’t work. But she was a gambler at heart and risks were what kept her ahead of the game. She schooled her features into a mask of cold hardness, one she used when dealing with stubborn business associates, and firmed her voice to that of authority. “The marriage is off. I’ll see my lawyer and have the m
arriage annulled. That shouldn’t be hard to do since the marriage hasn’t been consummated. The contract will then be void. I’ll have my lawyer file charges against your mother with the District Attorney.”
Ariel froze in place and spun to face Kiernan. “You bitch!” She stood there indecisively, and Kiernan watched a myriad of emotions flicker by before Ariel said, “Fine. I’ll do it—provide you with a list, tell you where I’m going. I swear I’ll never have contact with Mysha again. But you have to promise to leave my mother out of it.”
Ariel’s eyes and face had somehow become desperate and stricken. Seeing that and hearing her plea, Kiernan experienced a moment of regret for her threat. But her anger quickly smothered the moment of compassion. “Very well. You need to remember the consequences of your actions before you go traipsing off to visit old girlfriends.” Kiernan watched Ariel’s expression change to one of relief, before adding, “I have business to attend. You may go.”
Ariel left quickly, slamming the door behind her so hard that Kiernan jumped. She turned her back and walked to her desk feeling a pounding headache coming on. She sank down into her padded chair and the anger seeped out of her gradually leaving her feeling weak and light-headed. She had wanted to end the conflict and prevail while she was ahead of the game, to let Ariel know she was serious when it came to her good name and Stellardyne. But it suddenly became clear to Kiernan that this wasn’t a game she was playing at all. Ariel would end up hating her.
She let out a sigh. Maybe she had nothing to lose after all because it was pretty clear that Ariel already hated her.
ARIEL MUTTERED UNDER her breath, “Bitch” as she exited the room and slammed the door.
Anger filled her, and there was a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach for allowing Kiernan to intimidate her on where she could go, and whom she could visit. Suddenly needing fresh air, she tramped down the hall, through the recreation room, and out the paned glass doors to the rear veranda, then down the steps to the garden.
Linda S. North - The Dreamer, Her Angel and the Stars Page 18
