Before Danton I’d hated my life, tasted only bitterness, never once dared to believe that this world might one day find a place for me in it. Death had always seemed so inviting, an enticing doorway through which I’d escape my despair.
But here, now, my love was about to be snatched up in Death’s arms. I hated how I’d been so willing to throw away something so pure when he was fighting for his life.
Cameron had known all along that I needed to face death and be around it to truly understand it.
I forced back my tears, trying to be strong for him. My breathing became ragged from the pressure of holding back this tidal wave of grief.
Danton wasn’t fooled.
“I’m not dead yet, silly.” He reached out to grab my hand. “Come on.” He led me toward the house. “I want to savor each moment with you. Promise me you’ll be strong for me.”
I loved him too much to ever leave him and this was my chance to prove how much I adored him. I’d wait until he slept soundly before I shed any tears. I would hide from him all my worry and be everything he needed me to be, give him everything he wanted in his final weeks.
Once inside we stripped off our soaking wet clothes and dried ourselves off in the bathroom.
Thunder clapped just outside the window and lightning flooded the room, and we ran into the bedroom as though we could hide from it. Danton was laughing, as though he felt relieved that his secret was out.
How could he be this strong? So brave and willing to face the most dreadful of curses?
He threw himself onto the bed and forced a smile. “Scarlet, let me love you.”
I leaned low and took him into my mouth. He grew hard instantly. Sucking, I let out a moan of relief that he was still mine.
Then I felt a sudden rush of despair. I pulled away from him.
“Shush,” he soothed, his fingers playing with my hair.
I forced back a sob. “We’re going to find a cure.”
“Less talking,” he said with a grin. “More sucking.”
After taking him all the way to the back of my throat as far as I could go, I worshiped him with licks and kisses, feverishly proving he was everything to me.
He rolled me onto my back and lowered himself between my legs. “Maybe this is where I’ll find the magic elixir.”
“Don’t joke about this.”
I’d never survive losing him. My teeth bit into my lip to prevent another sob from escaping as tears stung my eyes.
“See—” He licked along my clit. “I’ll live forever in your heart now.”
“Yes, forever in my heart.”
His tongue flicked faster and I arched my back in pleasure, marveling at how he could draw such strength from someone like me.
Danton pushed himself up. “I’m tying you down. You deserve it.”
I let him secure me to the four corners of the bed with red rope. He took his time as though it were some luscious ritual.
Spread-eagled, I felt powerless. When Danton began the slow journey of kissing my feet and then working his way up my body I swooned with delight.
With each second, I brought myself back to a place of strength, where I reassured myself I had everything it took to be there for this wonderful man.
I raised my head off the pillow. “My nose is itchy.”
He gave a smirk and reached up and scratched it.
“Other side.” I moved my head to the left.
“How’s that?” He ran his fingertip over my nose.
“Better.”
He kissed my stomach.
“Oh, no,” I said.
“What now?”
“I need to pee.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now. You have to untie me.”
“Do you have any idea how long it took me to tie you up?”
“I was here, remember.”
He rolled his eyes playfully and got to work releasing me. I shifted off the bed and padded into the bathroom.
I sat on the toilet and Danton came in and leaned back against the sink.
“Look at us.” I beamed up at him. “We’re like an old married couple.”
Then a dreadful sadness swept over me. Danton seemed to notice, and he gave me a comforting smile.
“Come back to bed,” he said. “I want to show you how obsessed I am.”
“We’re perfect together, aren’t we?” I washed my hands beneath the faucet.
He came closer. “We’re everything we both need and more.”
“I’m scared.” I couldn’t let the words stay inside me anymore.
He wrapped his arms around my waist and hugged me. “I’m going to give you enough love to last a lifetime.”
I stared at his reflection in the mirror. “You already have.”
Chapter 15
France
THAT ROOM AT the top of the house had called to me again.
As though some part of me knew there was something in there significant to Danton’s life…his past.
I’d broached the subject of the room one more time and Danton had closed down my line of questioning by quickly changing the subject - and then spanking me deliciously.
I’d lived here for a month now. Surely such time spent with a man and the intimacy we shared warranted no further secrets between us?
Since the day he’d told me to forget that room even existed, I’d mulled over what might be in there. Danton had said it was merely old books, but from the way he’d broken my gaze I knew there was something he was hiding.
I’d tried to forget about it.
Yet the more I forced my thoughts away the more my intrigue grew. Survival was all about following your instincts. Now was the time to shed light on Danton’s other secret.
With him resting soundly in our bed - he was sleeping later in the mornings these days - I went off to explore.
In the kitchen was an old bunch of keys I’d found when I’d been busy cooking for us one evening, searching the drawers looking for a can opener for a tin of tomatoes. I’d made a mental note to come back for those keys when I was feeling brave.
I carried them to the upper hallway and tried each one in the keyhole of the mysterious door, my imagination running wild with what I was going to find.
I squealed with delight when one of the keys turned in the lock.
I shoved open the door.
It was so beautiful it took my breath away. There on a stand sat the most gorgeous amber-colored cello.
Had the music Danton played to me in the greenhouse come from this very instrument?
Reverently, I stepped toward it, and then saw the musical scores in a neat pile on a table at the back of the room. A few antique books were stacked on a shelf to help validate his previous assertion. I moved closer to the cello, my fingers trailing down the strings. I gave one a tweak and it vibrated in a deep base.
“What are you doing?” Danton asked sternly. He was leaning against the doorjamb.
“Can you play this?”
He gestured for me to come to him.
“That music you played me in the greenhouse, did it come from this?”
“Yes.”
That meant he’d recorded a piece of music at some point, confirming just how brilliant a musician he was.
I was astounded. “You really are a cellist?”
“I used to be.”
“Why hide it away?” I went to grasp the neck of the instrument and then pulled away, realizing this was something very, very special.
He walked into the room.
“I figured I was going to have to stop at some point,” he answered, shrugging.
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“It’s like—” He placed his hand on his heart. “When you need something so much and you know you’re going to lose it. Why bother to fight? Let it go.”
“We have each other.” I ran toward him and wrapped my arms around his waist. “We’re proving that every single moment must be savored. Not one second wasted.” I peered up at him. �
��Aren’t we?”
“I have you.”
“Play for me.”
He waved a hand in the air dismissively.
I pulled away from him and sat on the floor, crossing my legs. “I’m not moving until you play for me.”
“You’re so very stubborn, Scarlet,” he said, grinning. “Let’s have some tea. Go make me breakfast, you submissive, you.”
“No.”
“Come on. This is futile.”
“This is you.” I pointed to the cello. “This is who you are and you promised me every part of you.” I threw my hands up. “I thought you were in a band. You made me believe you were. I imagined you with spiked hair and tight leopard skin pants, playing the guitar terribly on a bad cover you’d recorded with your friends.”
“It was easier for me to let you think that rather than explain this.”
“This? This is incredible.”
He pointed to the cello. “It was once my great love. Now you are.”
“I’m not moving, Danton.”
“Then you’ll gather dust.”
“Danton! Get your ass in that chair. Now.”
“Ah, my sweet butterfly has stretched her wings and is now a dominatrix.”
I crossed my arms.
“Okay.” He raised his hands in surrender. “Once. Only because it’s you asking.”
Cheering, I pushed myself up and fetched a chair for him. Within minutes he’d dusted off the cello and sat with the instrument between his legs, the bow poised in his right hand.
A smile lit up his face. “It’s a good thing you’re already addicted to me.”
Those words couldn’t have been truer.
With my heart soaring, I watched, mesmerized, as he swept the bow over the strings masterfully, an elegant movement that proved he was one with the instrument. He made it look so easy. The way he brought the cello to life was the most incredible thing I’d ever seen or heard, musical ribbons flowing in and out continuously in strands of beauty as though light itself was morphing into notes, reaching every corner of the house.
His eyes remained closed as he played U2’s “With or Without You” - and seeing his expression, I understood Danton’s fear of losing this precious gift. It was like a profound affair between a man and his instrument. His music was utterly breathtaking.
As he brushed the strings with his bow, his face looked just as serene as when he was sleeping.
He suddenly grinned as though he could sense my reaction.
Swept away, awestruck, it was impossible not to let my tears fall.
Every evening, from that moment on, I’d curl up on our bed while Danton sat in a chair near the balcony and played his cello for me.
For me.
Chapter 16
France
THE LIMO PICKED us up at 6:00 A.M. and we headed along the coastline.
Still sleepy from rising so early, snuggling against Danton’s side in the back of the car, my thoughts continued to cycle around to his illness. Somehow, someway, I knew we’d get through this.
I prayed we’d find a cure.
He stared out at the passing scenery with his usual sereneness and control. His hair was parted and a little messy, a dash of carefree artiness. He’d dressed in a black tailored Armani suit, and he looked as gorgeously intimidating as the first day I’d met him, with that five-o-clock shadow enhancing his confident edge.
He was always so dignified.
Before we’d left home, he’d stood me in the middle of the bedroom and dressed me, tugging a little black dress over my body and then easing on my new knee-high leather boots. All my outfits he’d had especially delivered to the house.
I’d styled my hair just how he liked it - long and sleek, my bangs straight across my forehead to highlight my blue eyes.
After sharing his devastating news a week ago, he’d carried on as though nothing had changed at all, and I suppose for him nothing had. My own world was in disarray, my emotions swirling like that stormy ocean to our right, the waves crashing onto the rocky shoreline as though reflecting the anger I felt, the unfairness of it all.
Why had life done this to me now? I’d just found my soul mate, only to have him ripped away from me. Life continued to show its cruelest hand. Still, I was going to stay. I wanted to be with him during this ordeal and nothing could stop me.
“I’ll go with you,” I whispered.
Danton shook his head as though rising from a trance, and then he smiled, his eyes crinkling.
“When you go in for your treatment,” I clarified. “I’ll be with you at the hospital.”
He gave me a sympathetic look.
Searching his face, I tried to fathom what he was thinking. His face wore that usual beautiful expression of serenity.
He stared out the window. “Aren’t you curious where we’re going?”
I followed his gaze. “Are we going out for breakfast?”
“Where would you choose to go above all?”
“Paris?”
Danton’s head fell back in a laugh. “Oui.”
“For the day?”
“Yes.”
I collapsed against him, planting kisses on his cheek. Our mouths met lusciously, our tongues tangling.
When I’d first arrived in France, that’s where I’d thought I’d be living. I’d had no idea I would be whisked away to an ocean side home, where I would be loved so deeply.
We smooched in the back of the car for the entire way, hugging and kissing and making each other laugh. The excitement of knowing I would finally see the City of Lights made me giddy. With Danton having grown up here, he’d know the best places to visit.
The Louvre was our first stop.
The museum was breathtakingly beautiful, and it went on forever. Of course, Danton knew everything about it, sharing that it had once been a fortress, and now housed some of the most famous paintings in the world.
We bypassed the long line of tourists waiting to get in and entered through a secret door at the side, where we were met by a senior curator who was expecting us. Danton chatted with him a while and it turned out this man was an old school friend. Pierre offered to take us on a tour, but understood when Danton declined and told him we’d find our own way.
We walked through the long hallways and sprawling galleries, and I was mesmerized by the surrounding marble and ceiling murals - the ones framed in gold were hypnotically beautiful.
I had to grip Danton’s arm so I wouldn’t trip because I was looking up so much.
We finally made it to the painting Danton wanted to show me, the Mona Lisa. Slowly nudging our way through the crowd, we managed to get close enough to view her properly. The portrait was smaller than I’d imagined it to be.
Still, she was quite enthralling.
We continued on, stopping now and again to admire a sculpture or take in the brilliance of a painting, some of which were enormous.
Danton knew so much about art and history and sculptures. I clung to him in awe, realizing he was a renaissance man. It seemed there was nothing he didn’t know something about. He was like a French Cameron in so many ways. He was kind and generous and brilliant and always willing to share everything he knew about the world.
We settled in the museum café and Danton ordered us two espressos and a croissant each. I had fun watching him people watch and then hearing him share his remarkable observations about the other diners, his wisdom all garnered from a glance, spoken with understanding.
We sat close so we could hold hands, and to those around us we must have appeared love struck. In between kisses, Danton fed me pieces of croissant.
He nurtured me so.
The car picked us up an hour later and we went on to Notre Dame Cathedral. We rested for a long while in one of the pews, listening to psalms sung by angelic choirboys, their singing ethereal as it echoed around us. I couldn’t break my gaze from the central stained glass window with its intricate design and vivid colors.
Our next stop was the
Eiffel Tower.
The elevator ride to the top of the wrought iron lattice tower was exhilarating. We rose at a constant speed through the metal structure and the view of the city became more impressive the higher we went.
We swapped to a second elevator so we could go all the way to the top, and just like the first it creaked and rattled during its ascent, reminding us just how old the structure was. Danton whispered in my ear that it had been intended to be built in Barcelona, but in the end it had been too expensive for the government. He also told me that the engineer, Gustave Eiffel, had also contributed his knowledge to the design of the Statue of Liberty.
Stepping out of the elevator we made our way to the edge, which was guarded by crisscross fencing that was easy to see through. As I tried to fathom being this high, my breath caught at the spectacular panoramic view of an ancient city fused with modern, glorious architecture, a sprawling metropolis that went on forever.
Strong hands wrapped around my waist and Danton hugged me to him.
“Scarlet,” he began softly, “I want you to see how beautiful this world can be. I want you to be conscious and interact with architecture, the arts, with travel and the people you meet. Be the grandest adventurer for me.”
I spun round in his arms realizing what he was saying. He wanted to give me every part of himself and all he knew so that when he left me I’d survive. No, more than survive. I’d savor this world as much as he had.
He hugged me tighter. “Promise you’ll seize every opportunity.”
“I promise.”
Danton kissed me tenderly. “Let’s stop off in the café for a drink, yes?”
We spent the rest of the afternoon talking and sipping hot tea and Danton shared memories of his childhood. He went on to tell me about his days studying at the Conservatoire de Paris, where he learned to play his beloved cello. I opened up to him about my own childhood in West Virginia, and then the move to Massachusetts, where I’d later met Cameron.
All the sadness that had gone before no longer stung as it once had. Danton had healed my pain and completed me in ways I only now understood.
I felt forever indebted to him.
Our limo picked us up just after 5:00 P.M. and we journeyed through the winding streets, onward to our next adventure.
Enthrall Secrets (ENTHRALL SESSIONS 7) Page 9
