His face contorted in pain. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
I patted the bed. “Come on.”
His shook his head in defeat and climbed back in beside me. I scrambled to the end of the bed and bent low, planting kiss after kiss to his toe.
He laid back, his frown deepening, his look of suspicion not letting up. “Ice would be better.”
“Want me to get some?”
He waved it off. “It’s okay.”
I scrambled up again and landed on his chest, snuggling against him, sniffing in pure Cameron as I rested my head on him, relaxing once more and letting out a sigh of happiness. “See? This is nice.”
“Don’t get too comfortable,” he said. “This will never happen again.”
“Then I better make the most of it.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
He wrapped his arms around, hugging me into him. “The whole bar?”
This part of the house was quiet. It was nice to imagine we were alone, even though I knew we weren’t. Somewhere, in the far reaches of the house, doms were waking their subs to prepare them for the day, and elsewhere staff were working tirelessly to accommodate the guests.
Finally, I broke this silence and said, “I want to know more about you.”
“What you see is pretty much what you get.”
“There’s more to you. I envy your friends that know you well.”
“What do you want to know exactly?”
“Why did you choose psychiatry?” I said. “Why didn’t you go into your father’s business?”
“Becoming CEO was a privilege reserved for Harry, my older brother. Life took a few hard turns for him and he’s questioning his path right now.”
“That’s so vague.”
“Harry’s a recluse. He lives alone in a cabin in the woods.”
Harry sounded a bit frightening.
“I chose psychiatry because I find the mind fascinating.” He smiled down at me. “I take pleasure in making people feel better about themselves.”
“Do you ever get lonely?” I said.
“I’m constantly surrounded by people.”
“But I’ve never seen you in a serious relationship.”
“I find them futile.”
I lifted my head. “Futile?”
“In a relationship, the couple moves through the predictable steps that lead to either a breakup, or marriage, and then onwards, bound to divorce.”
Jeez, he sounds like Richard. These really were two rogues in a pod, like Cameron’s mother had said.
I felt wounded. “That doesn’t sound very romantic.”
“I’m drawn to the extraordinary.”
“Such high demands, Sir.”
“I’ve never met anyone who’s ever inspired me enough to take that risk.”
“Risk? Futility?” I chuckled. “What about love?”
“What is love to you, Mia?” He smirked. “No, really, I’m interested to know what you believe it to be.”
“Love is where you can’t help but want to be near the person. It hurts when they aren’t around. They make you feel complete.”
“But you’re already complete.” He sat up. “I should go.”
“Love is God’s breath,” I whispered.
Cameron lay back down on his pillow, blinking up at the ceiling.
I rested my head back onto his chest and snuggled. Those soft caresses of his hand up and down my back lulled me.
“It was never that profound,” he said softly. “Not with her. It was a long time ago. She believed our lives would be all about garden parties in the Hamptons and time wasted on yachts. She never imagined it would be about us offering our time in the inner cities. Or volunteering at halfway houses. Or patients calling me at odd hours and needing my time. Or me leaving her behind at a dinner party when I was called to the ER.”
I studied his face, trying to read if he was still hurting.
“I thought she’d come round.” He gestured to the room. “All this is an illusion. The only way to soothe my conscience is to do my bit.” He raised his hand. “Don’t ask me her name.”
“Did she break it off?” I whispered.
“I did.”A wave of his hand told me this line of questioning was over.
“You really are a dichotomy,” I said. “This place. What I saw last night. Those people on that couch with Shay. It was all so…”
“I warned you I’m hedonistic. I’ll never be accused of being puritanical.”
“Despite last night seeming so forbidden,” I said. “There was something beautiful about it too. The room was about worshipping sexuality, finding no shame in it, sharing in the pleasure of others.”
“I like to think so,” he said. “Would you ever conceive entering there again?”
“Yes, please. If I’m allowed.”
He kissed my forehead. “Only senior members are invited into the red ballroom.”
“Then I’m lucky I know you.”
Cameron laughed. “I’ll see if I can sneak you in again.”
I smiled at that. “Thank you, Sir.”
“Trust me, it’s my pleasure.”
“How did you meet Shay?”
“At a polo match in Surrey,” he said. “It turned out we had mutual friends.”
“Do you play polo?”
He scratched his stubble. “Yes.”
“You really are very upper class.”
“Don’t let this well spoken, perfectly bred demeanor fool you.” He dug his fingers into my ribs and tickled.
Giggling, I squirmed. “Oh, I’ve seen your tricks, Dr. Cole. I know exactly what you’re capable of.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet.” He poked some more.
Wriggling, I tried to escape. “I’m looking forward to today,” I burst out.
“Why, what’s happening?” He stilled. “You’re choosing today to take me off on a Mia adventure.”
“Don’t expect too much,” I said. “I can’t afford anything too flashy. Still, I think you’ll like it.”
He looked amused.
“You will come with me, won’t you?”
“I gave you my word, Mia. My word is everything. Unless you fuck up, and then I’m likely to change my mind.”
“Don’t change your mind about me.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I want you to like me as much as I like you.”
“Where did that come from?”
My heart, you idiot.
“I feel so very deeply about you,” I said.
He let out a hesitant sigh. “There’s so much I want to say to you.” He looked down at me. “Sometimes, though, it’s wise not to speak those words.”
“Why?”
“Once they’re out, there’s no taking them back.”
“Is this your way of letting me know you really are fond of me?” I said.
But he’d closed his eyes, seemingly drifting off into a doze.
CHAPTER 36
“WHY ARE WE here?” said Cameron, peering through the shop glass window of Pottery Play. “Oh, fuck, no.”
I folded my arms. “You agreed.”
He looked affronted. “What is it you believe you can teach me from this?”
“Come on,” I said. “It’s best if I show you.”
“Mia, let’s grab a coffee. Look, there’s a nice bakery over there.”
“Sir, you gave me your word.”
“Not for this. What is this place anyway? And please call me Cameron when we’re out.”
“This is where people have fun.” I opened the door.
Cameron followed me in, his jaw grinding with tension, that now clean shaven face taut.
“When was the last time you had any fun?” I said.
“The last time I spanked you,” he muttered.
“No, I mean really.”
“Really.”
I gave his arm a nudge. “We had an agreement. You’re a man of your word.�
�
“Hey guys,” said the blue haired host with Trish on her button. “How does that table work for you?” She gave Cameron the once over with a mixture of shyness and awe, her blush giving her away.
“Perfect. Thank you.” I turned back to Cameron. “I’ll take your coat.”
I reached up from behind him and he reluctantly shrugged out of it. I hung it in the corner on a coat hanger. I placed mine next to his.
“How about I take math off the table?” said Cameron.
I patted his back. “Facing your fears is good for you.”
Cameron’s brow knitted together. “I should never have agreed to this. What the hell was I thinking?”
Ignoring him, I followed Trish, who soon had us set us up at a central table. I headed over to the counter to pay.
“I’ll get this.” Cameron reached into his pocket.
“No, I’m paying.” I nudged up to him. “This is important to me.”
“I don’t want you wasting your money,” he said, and on my glare, as well as one from Trish, he rolled his eyes and ambled away.
I chose a mug, and after some persuasion Cameron picked out a margarita shaped piece.
“This is how it works,” I said. “After we’re done, they glaze and fire them. We can pick them up in a few days.”
Cameron scratched his jaw. “I’m not sure about this.”
“Look, it’s only an hour. And you did promise.”
Glumly, he conceded with a nod. After choosing our colored pots, we took our seats. I slid between us some napkins, brushes, and positioned those multi-colored pots of paint within reach.
Cameron waved his hand at his margarita shaped cup. “Wouldn’t it be better to have someone with an artistic flair do it?”
“That’s not the point.”
He shuffled in his seat. “Let’s get this over with then.”
“That’s not the attitude, Cameron.” I said. “You have to smile as you do it.”
“Let’s not go that far.”
“Red’s a good color for that.” I nudged the pot of paint his way.
He rolled up his sleeves and removed his watch and tucked it into his shirt pocket. “Why don’t you do both and I watch?” he said.
“Cameron!”
He picked up the paintbrush, studying it with an air of contempt.
“Yay!” I clapped my hands with delight and pretended Mr. Intensity wasn’t sitting opposite.
He dipped his brush into the pot of red paint and dabbed it onto his cup, turning it as he went. Choosing a bright blue, I swept my brush over my mug and sucked up the fact that this wasn’t going too well.
Cameron’s gaze shot between his legs. “Fuck.”
“Did you spill some?”
He gave a crooked smile. “No, my balls just fell off.”
Laughing, I pointed my brush at him. “See, the great Cameron Cole can have fun.”
“I’m doing this for you, Mia, because I gave you my word.” He flicked his brush at me and a spot of paint landed on my nose.
I wiped it off with a napkin. “When was the last time you were creative?”
He looked thoughtful.
“You didn’t do art in school?” I said.
“It wasn’t that kind of school.”
“What kind was it?”
“Boarding school.”
“One where you don’t get to see your parents?”
“I visited home during the summer. On holidays, like Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter.”
“Were you lonely?”
“No, I had friends.”
“Do you stay in touch with them?”
“A few.”
I waited for him to go on, sensing he’d relaxed a little and might even be enjoying himself from the way he was taking his time applying strokes to the inside of his cup.
The doorbell rang and an elderly couple entered with what looked like their grandchildren. They soon settled across the room by the window.
Cameron finally broke his attention from the family, as though satisfied he’d gleaned all he needed to analyze them.
I searched his face, hoping for a sign he wasn’t too annoyed with me.
“My best friend in school was a guy named Dabuku Reid,” said Cameron, his voice low. “He was an exchange student from Sandton.”
“South Africa,” I said.
Cameron beamed at me. “Dabuku’s an ophthalmologist now. He has his own clinic on Harley Street.”
“Ha,” I said. “I know where that is too. See, all this money you’re wasting on me is paying off.”
“Then it’s not wasted.”
“Did you stay in touch?” I said.
“Yes. I’m lucky we have, considering.”
“Considering what?”
“I know you’ll find this hard to believe, but there used to be a time when I was very competitive.”
“No. You?”
“Careful.” He arched a brow. “We had our mid-term exams. Dabuku and I were not only best friends, we were at the top of our class and highly competitive against each other. So, the night before our exam, I took him out and got him blinding drunk.” Cameron shrugged. “He was too busy throwing up the next day to finish his exam.”
“What happened?”
“He was expelled. They thought he was cheating. All those visits to the restroom.”
It was hard not to show my sadness for his friend.
“It all worked out fine,” said Cameron. “I phoned my dad and admitted what I’d done and he made things right.”
“How?”
“My dad donated generously to the school.”
“And your friend was reinstated?”
“He was. Dabuku completed his education care of my father’s grant. He went on to study medicine at Yale and I went to Harvard. Every few weeks, Dabuku flies out to Africa to perform surgery on those who can’t afford it. He’s saved the sight of thousands.”
“He sounds amazing.”
“He is.”
“Did he ever forgive you?”
“Yes, we’re the best of friends still. We laugh about it now. You can only imagine the guilt I feel knowing that I might have prevented Dabuku from ever becoming a doctor. His legacy is exceptional.”
“You were very brave to tell your dad,” I said.
“Sometimes doing the right thing is hard but necessary.”
“Your dad’s proud of you. I saw it in his eyes when we had dinner.”
Cameron flicked his brush again and paint landed on my cheek. “The only psyche around here that gets explored is yours.”
“Hey.” I wiped it off. “That doesn’t seem fair.”
He looked at his margarita cup. “This is a cruel and unusual punishment.”
“You’re enjoying yourself. Don’t try to deny it.”
“There may be some benefit to this time wasting activity, I suppose. I’m still figuring it out. It’s like some excruciating science experiment that keeps on giving.”
“Very funny.” I pointed my brush. “Your lip just curled up. I’m sensing happiness breaking through your austere demeanor.”
He shook his head and grinned.
“I still feel guilty when I think about what I did to Dabuku,” he admitted.
“So you hold onto things too?”
“I try not to, but that was pretty selfish. Luckily I’m over my megalomaniac stage.” He raised his brush. “Don’t even try responding to that.”
I beamed at him. “Was that your trigger that nudged you into kink?”
“No, Mia, I was made this way. I take a great deal of pleasure in S & M. As you very well know.”
I flushed wildly, responding to that stark stare of his. “See? This is fun. We’re getting to know more about each other.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever painted before,” he said.
“How can you never have painted?”
“I have no idea.”
“I’m giving you a first time for something too.”
“And nothing bad happened,” I said. “You lived through it.”
“I’m rather proud.” He turned his cup around to show me. “A masterpiece if ever I saw one.”
“Looks amazing. It’s a good thing Van Gogh’s dead.”
“Why?”
I gestured to his cup. “If Van Gogh saw that, he’d chop off his other ear in a fit of jealous rivalry.”
We burst out laughing.
“And you get to keep mine and I get to keep yours,” I told him.
“Who says?”
“So we can remember this moment every time we look at them,” I said. “When we had fun together.”
He gave a shrug. “Whatever floats your boat.”
Cameron made the final touches to the base of his cup. God he was beautiful. His confident air always had its expected effect. Everyone who crossed his path naturally deferred to him. He’d even received glances of approval from the grandparents across the room. As though merely his presence was enough to impress.
“You have a hidden talent,” I said.
“So do you apparently.” He admired my mug. “Pity it will never get used.”
“Why do you say that?”
He held my gaze. “Thank you for this.”
“It’s my pleasure,” I said. “I’m relieved it wasn’t a total disaster.”
“It wasn’t a disaster at all,” he said. “I haven’t had this much fun since I stubbed my toe this morning.”
I flicked a splotch of paint his way and it landed on his collar. I covered my face and peeked through my fingers.
“Thank God for that,” he said. “You’ve been such a good sub lately, I’ve been running out of reasons to spank you.”
I melted right there in my chair, my thighs snapping together, my brightly blush giving my happiness away.
CHAPTER 37
DOMINIC HAD US wait outside.
Arianna held a tray of glasses and I’d been tasked with the one with the Louis XIII Remy Martin Cognac. The tray was getting heavy and I was quietly freaking out about dropping this three thousand dollar bottle.
With both of us dressed in sweetheart corsets, suspender belts, and stockings, we’d been prepared like lambs for the slaughter.
We were about to enter the lion’s den.
Despite not liking Arianna, I drew strength from having her here. I didn’t want to enter that room alone. Not while those members of the board were having their meeting in there. Arianna had told me these were the exclusive board members who almost wielded as much power as Cameron. Apparently they convened on the last Friday of every month here in his office, where he hosted this grand collection of hedonists to discuss the governing of Chrysalis.
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