“Enjoy,” Isaak said from the bed as Kate, wrapped in a bathrobe, was about to leave for a day of pampering in the spa.
“I shall.”
He just knew she was lying, and Isaak called her back.
“Remember last night when you ordered the wine?” He took her hand. “If they suggest something that does not appeal, say no. If you want more pressure or less, then you say so.”
“I shall.”
“Good,” Isaak said. “It is your day.”
“What will you do?”
“I want to look up my uncle, maybe look for images of the ring.” He picked up her hand and examined the ring closely.
Kate took it off and handed it to him. Then she went to the safe, opened it, took out a small pouch, and poured the earrings into his palm.
“I was always going to return these to you. When I thought we’d be getting an annulment, I was going to give them to you.”
“These were a gift to you though.”
“It’s your history Isaak. I think these are the most beautiful earrings I have ever seen. I would never have sold them, and I’d have never worn them.”
“Why?”
It hurt to admit. “My family would sell them in a heartbeat. If I kept them, then it would be in a safety deposit box. They belong to you.”
“No.” Isaak shook his head. “They were a gift, and so they belong to you. I would love to see you wearing them, but for now, thank you. It might help me in my search. I don’t know where to start,” he admitted. “What do you suggest?”
“The library,” Kate suggested. “They’ll have different information to the one I work at. Not everything is online. Sometimes it’s just down to luck.”
When she left, Isaak stared at the earrings and ring for ages, and although he might try the library this afternoon, Isaak decided to try speaking with a jeweller. After a brief word with the concierge as to whom they might suggest, Isaak found himself just a block or so away speaking with an elderly man who examined them closely but was of little more help than Kate.
“Often hallmarks are scratched out,” he explained as he examined the ring. “This is not Faberge or Bolin but these are seriously beautiful pieces.” He pointed to the claw that raised the diamond. This puts it around 1870, but these swirls around the ruby are much earlier art forms. I would say this would be a culmination of a life’s knowledge.” He saw Isaak frown, and he got up, opened a safe, and took out a ring.
“This,” the jeweller explained, “is my masterpiece. The diamond was mined in Russia and the cutter took years to decide how best to approach it. When I bought the stone it took a number of years before I decided on the setting.” He handed it to Isaak who examined it for a long moment. “If I had somehow acquired this diamond twenty or even ten years ago I would not have managed to make something so exquisite.
“It’s very beautiful,” Isaak said.
“The day I sell it, I retire,” the jeweller said. “So you see, it’s a lifetime of work.”
Isaak nodded in understanding. “So I’m probably looking for an elderly jeweller.”
“I would expect so. It would have either been commissioned or bought at a party where wealthy women would select jewels.”
“My grandmother came by it many years later than that, and she was a very modest woman.”
“Let me take some photos, and I will do my best, but a lot of the catalogues from that time have been destroyed.”
Isaak headed back to the hotel and took some photos of the jewels himself before locking them away and then heading to the library, only there did he give a wry smile.
Kate’s work was so addictive he’d forgotten how he had intended to spend his day!
*
Kate was having a wonderful day of her own.
First she had been given a long foot massage, which she had actually enjoyed. Then she had lain on a table and her skin had been rubbed and invigorated with ocean salt, and she had rinsed off in a delectable bath. Now she lay on the massage table again, on her back, covered in warm towels as the masseuse worked on her scalp.
Kate loathed when hairdressers gave her a scalp massage, and she always wanted to tell them to stop but not this afternoon.
Skilled fingers worked neroli essential oil into her tense scalp till her head did not know if it were resting on the pillow or being held in the masseuse’s hands, so relaxed was she.
It was sublime.
Her arms were massaged slowly right down to her fingers.
Was it the skill of the masseuse or that she had told another her most shameful secret that somehow allowed her limbs to turn to liquid?
Kate lay on her stomach now, wearing only the small paper panties she had been given. A week ago, this level of exposure would have horrified her, but now she allowed herself to indulge in the heady sensation of deep relaxation. After her massage, Kate sat in her warm, white robe and drank water and herbal tea, and then she took the lift to their suite.
Isaak was not there.
She checked the safe, wondering if he was out researching the jewellery; but the pieces were all there, and when she saw the earrings, Kate couldn’t resist and took out the simple studs she usually wore and put the others in.
They were magnificent.
Drop chandeliers, they glistened in the afternoon sunlight, and Kate closed the drapes and lay on the top of the bed, her eyelids heavy, her limbs loose, not asleep but far from alert.
“Sorry.” She went to get up when she heard the click of the door and Isaak came in.
“Stay,” he said.
Kate lay there and it was as if she was floating on a cloud.
“How was your spa day?”
“Amazing,” Kate said. “How was your day?”
“Interesting, frustrating,” Isaak replied. “I spoke with a jeweller, and he gave me a couple of suggestions. I’d like to hear what you found out when you went to Russia,” Isaak said. “But not now, just rest.” He lay on the bed beside her, his hands behind his head, trying to fathom the mystery of his grandmother. He simply had to find out. Isaak was used to rapid answers, instant gratification, and it gnawed at his gut that he might never know.
There was a chink of light where she hadn’t fully closed the drapes and the low late afternoon sun found them and got into their eyes but neither had the inclination to get up and fully close them.
“I don’t know how you do your work,” he admitted, turning his head towards her and she smiled sleepily.
“It really is an exercise in patience.”
“Like you,” Isaak said, liking that her lips parted, and she smiled even wider. “Kate, about this morning. I am very…”
“Please don’t say sorry again,” Kate turned and opened her eyes. “It was nice, in a way, to hear how ridiculous it was. The things she said, her words…” Kate pulled a face, “They were the same things I said to you on our wedding night.”
“Whoa!” Isaak said, understanding now how his gesture must have offended and was furious with the woman who had used those words on Kate.
“She said that day that I’d end a whore.” Kate looked over to him and Isaak just stared back. “Soon after that dad died. Can you see now why I freaked a bit when I got lost in Pigalle?”
“Poor baby,” Isaak said and he stroked her cheek. “Perhaps she is not a happy woman.”
“She’s not.”
“Don’t let her poor reaction damage you.”
“I’ve tried not to,” Kate said. “I just get so tense.”
“You’re not tense now.”
“No,” Kate said. “But if you tried to…”
“What if I tell you we are not going to have sex now, no matter what?”
She looked into his dark navy eyes and they were not the cold of the ocean now but like the sky just before the sun rose, and she believed him.
“I’d feel better.”
“If I told you that even if you begged for me to try, I’d refuse.”
“I doubt
I’ll ever be begging,” Kate smiled.
“What if I kissed you?” Isaak asked.
“I’d like it,” Kate said and then there was a flutter of panic. “What if they come to turn down the bed?”
Isaak got out of bed, put the sign on the door, and then locked it to ensure they were uninterrupted, and he turned off his phone too.
It was still her day.
She thought he would come and lie down again, but instead he sat on the bed beside her and stroked her cheek and then his fingers went to her ear and he held one long earring in his fingers. “They look as if they were designed for you.”
She felt the cool of the stones high on her neck as he let them go, and there was delicious anticipation rather than fear as his mouth came down on hers.
She had never been kissed more softly, like one long feather was stroking her mouth. It was delicious, it was frustrating, and slowly her lips stretched to invite him, kissing him back, just enjoying the sublime feel of his mouth on hers.
One hand was on her arm, the other slid behind her neck, and she had the same sensation she had had during the massage. She did not know if it was the pillow or his hand that supported her, but she felt as if her head were floating as his tongue slipped in and now she welcomed it, so much so that her hand moved to his head and pressed him in.
Wet, hot, deep kisses he duly delivered, and when he suckled her tongue, it was so heady, she barely cared that his hand had moved from her arm and was now working the belt of her robe.
She would halt him. In a minute, she would halt him, except his hand on her oiled, slippery breast made her breathing quicken. Isaak pulled his mouth back from hers, and her lips chased his, wanting, more, more, more of the same, but his hand moved from her neck and gave her lips his fingers instead as his mouth worked down. He kissed her neck, and slid his tongue beneath her ear and swirled and suckled there. He felt her lips part beneath his fingers, felt her hold her breath, and so he kissed her more deeply.
She wanted the bruise he was surely making, she would wear her hair down forever just for more of this yet his lips were moving again. Oiled from her skin they travelled lightly down, more slowly than her body cared for, there was a need building as each soft kiss warned her aching nipple of the pleasure to come.
“Isaak…” she wanted him to hurry. She was not yet used to need, but it was starting to fill her. His tongue swirled her nipple and her thighs tensed. There was nervous tension in her stomach that was familiar rather than pleasant as she struggled not to let go, but his hot breath on her breast, his moan as he suckled, the slight pain, the dizzy pleasure had her knees raise just a little and the tension in her thighs ramp up to delicious.
He blew again and then lightly suckled. She wanted more, she wanted to ask for more but she bit her lip rather than request. “Isaak.” Still he suckled her slowly and then he took her deep in and sucked hard as a groan of ecstasy poured from her mouth.
She wanted her hand to his head, she wanted to move him to the other breast but she said nothing.
“Tell me what you want,” Isaak whispered but Kate lay, fighting her wishes and staying quiet.
“Okay,” Isaak said to her silence between slow sucks. “I tell you what I want.” She looked down, surprised how long her nipple was as he stretched it with his lips and then released it. “I want to explore your lady garden…” he said it with a smile, and she laughed to hear words said with gentle passion rather than disgust.
“I don’t know…” Kate started.
“You don’t have to know,” Isaak said kneeling beside her. “Just feel.”
He slid down the panties and she lay naked, exposed, her thighs clamped together, and her hand moved to cover her most private place as his mouth moved down to her stomach.
Light kisses he placed there at first and then his hand came over hers.
“Isaak,” she started, but it was not his fingers he slipped into the tight junction of her thighs, instead he pressed in hers.
Her hand was rigid beneath his, the muscles in her stomach taut beneath his lips, but she did not halt him as he moved her fingers, and he took that as a good sign.
Kate felt the forbidden, wet and oiled and slowly her hand relaxed as his guided hers, pressing into the nub over and over as his mouth made out with her stomach. Together they explored her entrance, clamped closed to both of them, and Isaak deliberately guided her from there and got back to the sweet bundle of nerves higher up, and as they came to silent agreement that there would be no attempt, he felt her stomach muscles loosen beneath his lips, and then she gave him her trust and removed her hand.
Isaak wanted her legs open, but he would work with what he had. He wanted less of the lady and more of the woman, but he would bide his time. For now the fragrance of neroli, the slick of her lips beneath his fingers, and the swell of her clitoris were enough to invite his mouth down.
Kate closed her eyes as his teeth tugged at the tiny curls but his fingers were so light and precise, and then came the wet of his tongue, probing, tasting, sucking. His mouth barely broke contact, but he climbed over her, straddling her calves. The moans from him, the feel of his tongue burrowing in as his hands cupped her buttocks, had Kate’s hips rising to him and her hands pressing into his head.
Her thighs felt raw from the scratch of his stubbled jaw, and she parted her legs a fraction and then a fraction more, enough for Isaak to move one black jeaned leg between hers.
Then another.
Oh God!
There was a brief return to an appalling memory, and her eyes shot open, but everything in the room remained as before, and the door remained closed on them. Kate looked down, but his eyes too were closed as he adored her with his mouth. His tongue kept the promise they had made not to enter, but he suckled her hot mound instead.
“Isaak…” She said his name as her thighs started trembling. She went to push him away as something inside started building, but he was suctioned to her, his hands pressing her buttocks, lifting them, squeezing them, a relentless, delicious attack that she gave into.
Her stomach was tight but for different reasons as he moaned into her sex. There was a hum building in her throat, or was it a sob as her hips lifted? Her hands moved to his head, at first to halt him, then just to feel him buried between her legs. His hands moved to her hips and ground her to his face, her calves were shaking over his shoulders, and she could hold it in no more. Finally, she let go to his lips, pressing his head and arching into him, her bottom lifting off the bed as she pulsed into his mouth, and Isaak drank her, lapped her, and finally freed her.
There was more in there, Isaak knew it, but he could hear her shocked breathing, feel her thighs relaxing as her orgasm started to abate, and his mouth lifted, his palm holding her swollen sex.
Kate lay, her eyes closed, trying to catch her breath, her stomach soft, her limbs back to liquid but her sex hot and swollen in his hand.
“Where is the shame in that?” he whispered.
There was none. She wanted to curl up, she wanted to breathe deeply, but Isaak had not quite finished yet.
“What are you?” It was then she felt him move inside her. “Isaak…” She looked down, waiting for the clench of spasm, but it never came, and he was completely matter-of-fact in his response.
“Feeling you,” Isaak said, for just as she had finished coming, he had slipped two fingers in and now he slid them deeper. “Stretching you.”
She gritted her teeth as she felt a tug and then just watched, somewhat fascinated as he slipped two bloodied fingers out. She could see his erection straining against his jeans and there was an ache to feel it, but instead he came up the bed and kissed her back to earth.
“You don’t know what you just did,” Kate said.
“Of course I do.”
“No…” She thought of the tiny dilators that had proved impossible, even a finger or tampon were way too much for her. “I’ve never been able to get anything in…”
“One good-lo
oking Russian, and you part your legs,” Isaak teased. “Tut tut.” Then he smiled. “Have you had a nice day?
“The best day,” Kate said. “But you didn’t…”
“Oh, I shall,” Isaak smiled, and he did the wrist action thing again, but this time it just made her laugh, and he took her hand and placed it there for a moment, just letting her feel the size of it and explore it a little from the confines of his jeans. “And when I do I will be thinking of you.”
“Does nothing embarrass you?” Kate asked, liking the feel of him beneath her hand, nervous as to the size, her finger tracing the head.
“About sex?” Isaak checked. “No.”
“About anything?”
“We are all ashamed of some things,” he said, and he took her hand from his crotch and then kissed her palm till her toes were curling. “But for me, it’s not that. Come on, get dressed, I want to take those earrings out for dinner.”
He spoke as if it was perfectly normal to get up and go out after that.
In fact, he resumed normal conversation as Kate lay there realising that possibly it was.
Chapter 11
“Will you tell your brother about your grandmother?” Kate asked as they walked up the dark cobbled Montmartre streets towards the basilica.
“Yes, but I don’t know when,” Isaak said. “I don’t think the news would be welcome now.”
The streets were crowded and noisy, and his arm around her felt natural. They stopped and watched a family getting their portrait done.
“No way,” Isaak said as Kate opened her mouth, then he relented. “We’ll get one of you.”
It was a chance to shamelessly examine her face, and Isaak stood there, watching her smile, so much more relaxed now. He turned to a noise and watched a small bus that was often used by disabled folks and children to get to the top of the hill, and Isaak frowned as a child pressed his hands to the window and caught his eye.
He remembered this place.
“Isaak…” She had her portrait in her hand, and Isaak realised he had lost a few moments simply staring around. “Are you okay?”
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