The Velvet Caress

by C. P. Mandara

  'How long has she been sick?' If I were sensible I'd walk away now. All I had to do was shove the woman in a taxi and forget I'd ever laid eyes on her. I had everything I needed from her. The smartest move would be to get out and fast.

  'She's always been a sickly child, but in the last three years she's bounced back and forth from hospitals with frightening regularity. The last year in particular has been hell.'

  It was fairly easy to add up the dots after that, but I let her do the talking. I wanted to hear it in her own words.

  'There was an experimental treatment on offer in the US. The likelihood of it succeeding isn't great, but any chance is better than no chance. In my semi up in Glasgow there was no chance of me earning the kind of money required to make it possible. For a while we didn't know what to do, other than just sit there and watch her die.'

  I nodded, encouraging her to go on.

  'I tried to get modelling work, but the pay was nowhere near enough to fund the kind of specialist treatment she needed. Even worse, more and more of the photographers were basically insisting you sleep with them before they took you on. The business is completely corrupt, especially if you enter it without any money behind you.'

  I had an unpleasant taste in the back of my throat at the thought of what she must have gone through.

  'Then one of the girls mentioned Mark Matthews and the fact that the kind of money his girls earned was off the pay chart scale. I thought if I could somehow land a job at Zystrom I'd at least be earning enough money to take out a loan that might cover part of the treatment.' She shook her head ruefully.

  'But it wasn't enough?'

  'No. The costs spiralled in just a couple of years and I found myself almost back to square one.'

  I closed my eyes. Marianna had left a sick child in order to raise enough money to try and treat her. That alone had to have been excruciatingly hard, but to then find it had all been for nothing was something else entirely.

  'Why didn't you ask Mark for the money?'

  'You must be kidding.' Marianna laughed bitterly. 'Until the last few months of my employment he barely knew I existed. When he did finally discover me, you know better than to ask Mark for anything. If you put a step wrong you pay the price. That was the nature of the game and I'm pretty sure you're on the same wavelength as the man. There was also the chance he could have turned around and told me to get lost. Then I'd have been out of a job too.'

  Mark wasn't that much of a bastard. I'm pretty sure if she'd asked he'd have helped her, but she wasn't to know that. Oh lord. Where did I go from here?

  'So the two million pound conman came along, and he was too good to be true?' Quite literally, as it happened.

  'Yes. That money would have paid for the flights out to the US and got us the medical attention Leanne so desperately needs. It seemed like a gift from God at the time, even if there were consequences.'

  'And there were certainly some of those,' I remarked, putting a hand to my head. 'Probably more than you'd bargained on, I'm betting.'

  'Actually, I thought Mark would have me killed.' She was deadly serious. Then again, the man had a lot of money at his disposal so I guessed she had a reason to be.

  'That's a little bit dramatic,' I said. 'I know he's a bastard, but he isn't a complete animal.'

  'Well, for a moment there I thought you might actually kill me.' Marianna's eyes were staring at me intently, and I wondered what she wanted me to say.

  'I've been told I'm a very good actor.' It came in handy for the day job that was for sure. Then the conversation took a left turn.

  'Are you two friends?'

  Marianna turned her face towards me and looked me straight in the eye. Thankfully I didn't have to lie. 'No. Let's go with the term "frenemies".' It was more enemies, really, judging by the fact I'd recently discovered he owned sizeable amounts of many of my companies, but I was working on that.

  'So why are you doing his dirty work for him?' It was her turn to look imposing and superior, and I didn't think much of being put under the spotlight.

  'Let's just say I felt I owed him a favour, which has now been repaid. Now he owes me.'

  She inclined her head in reply and her bottom lip pouted beautifully. Fuck. I still hadn't gotten my cock under control. Maybe I'd had too many oysters at lunch. Anyway, the bottom line was that as much as I wanted to get her out of my hair, I also didn't want to leave her side. The two sentiments were difficult to pair up. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I sighed again.

  'So what do we do now?' I said, tapping my fingers against the seat of my chair. I knew exactly what we were going to do now, but wanted to hear her take on the matter.

  She looked up at me and smiled ruefully. 'We tell Mark what we know and then you get rid of me as quickly as possible? I just want to go home and see my daughter. That's all I want to do. I just want to give her a big damn hug.'

  'I'll get us booked on the first flight up to Glasgow. We'll just need to get you back to your apartment to pick up a change of clothes. Those aren't going to cut it on a flight.'

  'You don't need to come with me. I'm a big girl. I can manage.' She frowned at me. My jaw nearly dropped. The woman even looked cute with a frown. How was that possible?

  'You're not getting rid of me just yet. That's the deal. Take it or leave it.'

  'I'm too tired to argue. Let's go.' She sighed and then got up off the bench, a little unsteadily at first but it didn't take her long to find her feet.

  As soon as she was upright she began walking towards the door and gasped out loud, her eyes going wide.

  'Ah. That'll be the piercing, darling. It'll take a bit of getting used to.' I stood up and held the door open wide for her.

  'You're telling me. That little piece of metal really hits the spot.' She blinked a couple of times and then gingerly moved forward again, breathing in large, measured breaths. I wanted to laugh, but respectfully kept my face devoid of humour. Until the swelling had died down she was probably going to orgasm every ten steps or so.

  'Why didn't you just tell me the truth at the start?' I asked, as she walked through the door. My nostrils inhaled the scent of her luxurious brown waves and the smell of honey and vanilla was heavenly.

  'Because you wouldn't have believed me at the start, and you had the look in your eye of someone who enjoys tormenting people. Now you can check my story out. It won't take you very long. Then I can go home. I just want to get home.'

  The emotion in her voice was almost my undoing.

  Chapter Twenty-Two - Michael Redcliff

  'Holy fuck. She could die. What the hell are we going to do now?' Michael stood out on the balcony, rocking backwards and forwards upon his heels, his face looking rather ashen and haunted basked in pale grey moonlight. The temperature at his island retreat in the Caribbean might have been a balmy twenty-eight degrees, but you wouldn't know it the way his hands were shaking.

  Katrina sat there in a sheer cream caftan and looked up from her iPad lazily. 'We? There is no "we". You're on your own if she dies. This was your plan, after all.' Taking a brief glance at her lover, her eyes quickly returned to her screen. Michael did not look at all well.

  'My ex-wife is going to kill me if she finds out.' The newspaper Michael held in his hand began rustling as if it had a life of its own, as if it had some extremely pressing news to share.

  Taking another look at Michael's face Katrina rolled her eyes and sighed. Putting her tablet down gently on the ornate latticework table in front of her she said, 'Calm yourself. Who's going to be the most obvious suspect? Matthews, that's who. Your ex will probably have him killed, and then you haven't a care in the world. Just let nature take its course. All you have to do is stay low and make sure you don't do anything stupid. I think we covered our tracks reasonably well and all avenues lead back to Matthews, just like we planned.'

  'Yes, but what happens if Jennifer wakes up? If she was dead I wouldn't be worried, but my sources tell me that somehow they've managed to save
her life. What if she wakes up? What if my wife manages to talk to her? Then I'm screwed. I might as well grab my Glock and blow my fucking brains out. It'll be a lot less painful than whatever my ex-wife might have in store for me, should she find out.' The newspaper began to unravel in Michael's hand, pages fluttering across the floor, curling around softly in the gentle tropical breeze.

  Katrina shook her head and her lips hardened. 'You think too much. Jennifer is unconscious at the moment. Your ex is going to have Mark killed in less than forty-eight hours, unless I'm much mistaken. That's what I'd do. Have someone tail the bastard, and when fortunate circumstances present themselves he will no longer be a concern. The man is on his way out - not quite in the way you'd planned, but this way is probably better. Less heat on you, darling.'

  'But what if she wakes up before then?' Michael was finding it harder and harder to breathe. Panic had taken control of his body and seized him in a fierce, cold grip.

  'What if she does? Will your ex be sitting by her daughter's bedside, ready to explain where the fuck she's been all these years? Use your head, Michael. This is in the bag. Stop worrying, and for fuck's sake sit down. You look like you're about to have a coronary.' Katrina stood up and made her way over to Michael's side, gently easing him down to the padded sofa that waited below. The last thing they both needed right now was a visit to the ER room. 'Sit down, have a strong glass of something and read your paper. This will all be over in a day or two. All you need to do is hang on in there.'

  Michael blinked a couple of times and looked at the ragged remains of the newspaper in his left hand, only half of which he still held. He slammed the thing down in defeat.

  'Look on the bright side, darling. It'll keep your thoughts busy as you try and puzzle the thing back together.' Katrina sat down once again and retrieved her tablet. There'd be no sex this evening, so she might as well get comfortable.

  Chapter Twenty-Three - Mark

  When I awoke the first thing I felt was pain - intense, biting, sharp pain. What the hell had I done to myself? It felt like someone had run me over. When my eyes finally blinked into focus, it was to discover long strips of hospital halogen lighting above my head, and I instantly panicked. My blood pressure rocketed as I looked desperately around, only to find Jennifer asleep beside me. I reached quickly for her hand and winced again as the skin on my back protested vehemently. Suddenly everything that had happened in the past twelve hours came flooding back to me.

  My eyes flew to my watch, wondering how much time had passed since I'd arrived here. Daylight filtered in through the shuttered blinds, so I knew we were talking hours rather than mere minutes. I nearly fell off my chair when I realized eight hours had passed. That was an impressive nap. Perhaps I needed to get whipped to within an inch of my life more often.

  Pulling myself slowly up the padded chair I tried my best to make myself more comfortable. It was an impossible task, but after much fidgeting I finally found a position that didn't hurt as much as all the rest. The oxycodone tablets were burning a hole in my pocket, but I wasn't going to take them just yet. I think I was looking for some sort of sign that Jen would be okay. Any sign would do, but I just needed something. The room stayed ominously silent and Jennifer lay still as a corpse in answer to my plea. Maybe I should go and get some coffee and then go over my deal with God. Couldn't hurt, could it? Giving Jen's hand a quick squeeze I braced myself for the inevitable pain on standing and then held my breath until it had subsided. All I had to do then was put one foot in front of the other.

  'Good morning, Mr Matthews. Can I get you anything?' A big black nurse bustled into the room, larger than life, and briefly checked Jen's stats. She then returned her attention to me. 'Coffee, tea, or just plain old-fashioned water?' She smiled when I didn't answer immediately. 'Try talking to her. All that poor girl wants is to hear your sexy voice. Take it from me, mister. You only just married, so there's no way God wants to take her away from you. Just be patient. Time is all she needs.'

  'Coffee would be wonderful. Thank you,' I added, returning her smile even though it didn't make it past my eyes.

  'Sure thing. You stay there and I'll be right back.' Turning on her heel, skirts flying as she marched, she was gone in a whirlwind of cotton. Sitting myself down once again I nearly jumped right back in the air when I heard a moan come from beside me. My eyes flew down to Jennifer whose head squirmed upon the bright white pillow. Her eyes were scrunched up as if she were in pain. I gripped her hand tighter and shook it a little.

  'Jen? Can you hear me? It's Mark. I'm here for you, sweetheart.' There was another soft groan, but then she settled down again. It was progress though, and I was all for that.

  When the nurse bustled in five minutes later with my coffee, we chatted briefly about how Jen was doing. There wasn't any substantial change since I had visited last, but 'no news was good news' I was told. The only advice I was given was to keep talking to her. The body healed on its own timescale and there was no rushing nature. My back chose that moment to protest, and I guess that confirmed it. I would just have to be patient. She would come back to me eventually.

  Picking up the thick china cup and bringing the steaming dirty brown water to my lips, I blew the steam off the surface and burned my tongue in a semi-pleasurable fashion. All caffeine was good, no matter how bad it was. My stomach chose that moment to gurgle, reminding me that I hadn't fed myself for hours. I couldn't be bothered to acknowledge it, because that would mean moving and that was going to hurt.

  The nurse was still bustling around in the background, tidying mostly, and sorting out a few needles into neat orderly piles. I guessed she was getting the patients medication ready for later. There were only three people in the ward we were in. One had been moved during the night, and the other was a middle-aged man who was fast asleep. As soon as my wife made it out of intensive care I'd have her moved to a private ward, but at the moment she needed to be where it was safest. Jen moaned again and twisted her head around, drawing my gaze instantly. I wondered if she were having a nightmare of some sort. Perhaps a bit of chatter would soothe her. Hell only knows I had a lot to say to her. I didn't think the nurse would mind. Staring up at the ceiling, I gathered my thoughts.

  'You need to wake up, sweetheart. There are so many things I need to tell you. Firstly, I need to tell you that your dad is an asshole, but I think you already knew that. Secondly, I need to tell you that my house is your house and you can live in it for as long as you like. Perhaps that should be my houses are your houses, and…' I leaned forward close to whisper, 'you don't need to live in the same one as me. I'll understand if you can't bear the sight of me. I can barely bear the sight of me, and believe me, at this moment in time it isn't a pretty one.' That was more of a tongue twister than I bargained for, so I took another sip of scalding hot coffee before continuing. 'I know I made a huge mistake, and I don't expect you to forgive me, but don't die on me okay? You get well and I'll let you run the show your way. Whatever that may mean, I'm more than willing to compromise. I owe you at least that much. I'd be more than happy to kill your father too, should you require it. You just say the word.' Fuck. I was babbling. There were really only three words I needed to say to her and I think she deserved to hear them. Though I'd much rather say them to her when she was wide awake, I didn't want to take the chance that she might never hear them. There were too many regrets already. I didn't want any more.

  'Jen. There's one more thing. It's something important, so I hope you're listening in there somewhere.' I ran my fingers across her forehead with a feather light touch, stroking her soft, silky skin. She looked so delicate, so white, and so damn fragile. I just wanted her whole again.

  'Do you know, I think if you'd been any other woman I'd have refused to marry you. I don't care what's on the footage your dad holds. Besides, I have enough money to make his life miserable. If I put my mind to it, I could have tied him up in legal tape for years. I still can't figure out what this is all about, by the way. That'
s why I need you to wake up. He can't be that desperate for money can he?' And there I was again, avoiding those three little words that needed to be said. The trouble was I hadn't ever said them to anyone before. They felt strange and foreign on my tongue. They were burning a hole in my throat though, and they needed to be said.

  'Jennifer Courtney Matthews, there is something I badly need to share with you. I think I could have said this to you back in Albrecht stables, if I'm honest. Yes, I'd already fallen for you way back then, and I think I knew as soon as I saw you. You see, much as I'd like to tell you that I was horrified of the thought of marrying you, a part of me was secretly glad I'd have you all to myself and under my roof. The thought of you with another man drives me insane with jealousy and all I can think about right now is keeping you safe, although I appreciate it's a little bit late for that sentiment. Anyway, what all of that means is that I am well and truly in love with you. I. Love. You. I'll shout it from the rooftops if you don't believe me. Fuck, I'll even swap the kinky sex for vanilla, as long as I can be with you. That is how serious I am, Jennifer Matthews. And just for the record, you are never getting a divorce from me, no matter how much you might hate me when you wake up. Somehow I'll make you forgive me. There has to be a way.' My voice was perhaps a little louder than it should have been, but I meant what I said. I was going to do everything in my power to make this woman love me.

  The nurse carried on behind me, giving me no indication that she'd heard a word I'd said. Most of it had been in a low whisper anyway, and in her line of work I guess she heard a lot of things. Besides, she probably had far more important things to worry about, like drug dosage, charts, and saving sick people in general. When she came to stand behind me I paid her no attention. I was sure I'd only get in her way. Instead I gazed lovingly into the eyes of Jennifer Matthews. What the fuck?!

  For a moment I thought I was dreaming, but those deep blue irises blinked at me. I think my whole body froze as I waited to see whether this was yet another of my weird dreams and whether it might get good any time soon. For instance, if I was dreaming, maybe she could give me an adoring look, reach for my hand and ask if she could go home. To my place, in case you were wondering. My subconscious gave a chuckle. Jennifer would be fine convalescing with me. I'd make an excellent nurse. Mainly because I'd make damn sure the woman never got out of bed ever again. For all the wrong reasons of course, but I was happy to tie her down if need be. The eyes blinked again and I think my brain began to run in slow motion. I knew what Jennifer was wearing under her utilitarian hospital duvet - a hospital gown. One of those paper things that looked perfectly decent from the front, but when viewed from the rear it could trigger heart attacks in healthy males. Maybe I'd have to try some medical fetish when we got back. Stick her in one of those gynaecologist-style chairs and examine each and every last inch of her. My mouth began to water at the possibilities that presented. I could pin those legs wide open, for as long as I liked, and have my wicked way with her. Wondering if she'd like that, I decided I'd ask her if she was really awake.