Chandelier (Tarnished Crowns Trilogy Book 1) Page 20

  “So have me the way you can.” I pull my legs back, letting him go deeper. My body shivers and I grip onto his arms.

  He thrusts faster, harder. I hear myself moan and say his name, knowing I’m close to orgasm, a different type of one this time, one that will tear me apart.

  His body hardens. I feel his cock swell bigger inside me. I’m vulnerable and open and held together only by him.

  When I come I go blind and deaf. I can only feel.

  He says my name as he loses control, spilling his seed into me, moving deeper and closer, then his lips are on mine and our teeth clash.

  Our bodies shake and we hold onto each other until we become still, the rain tipping down around us.

  We stay there, wrapped in each other, just kissing and touching. Naked in each other’s arms.

  Eventually, the rain ceases, but we don’t move.

  “This should’ve been what my first time was like. With you.” I whisper the words and half hope he doesn’t hear them.

  “I know.”

  “Did you want to? You know, back then?”

  He laughs quietly. “I don’t know how I didn’t.”

  “Do you wish we had now? That we were properly together?”

  His kiss is tender. “Yes. I wish we could be together now.”

  “Let’s do it.”

  “We can’t, Blair.”

  “Why not?” I feast my eyes on him.

  “Because there’s more stuff going on that you don’t know about. And the first thing I have to do is keep you safe.”

  “You can do both.” I sound like a petulant spoilt child and I hate myself for it.

  “I wish I could.”

  “But we can carry on like this.”

  He freezes.

  I clutch on harder.

  “No. I should never have gotten involved again.”

  “No.” I sit up, still naked. “You don’t get to make the decision this time.”

  His hands land on my waist, stilling me.

  “I have to.”

  “You don’t.”

  He sighs, sounding exhausted. “Blair… it’s complicated.”

  I won’t beg. I never did it as a child and I won’t now. Instead I untangle myself from him and pull on my bra and top. “It doesn’t have to be, but it’s your choice. I guess we just feel differently.”

  He doesn’t say anything as I dress. I don’t look back as I walk away. The years we spent apart were long but I survived them.

  I’ll survive this as well.

  September

  We know that in September, we will wander through the warm winds of summer's wreckage. We will welcome summer's ghost. – Henry Rollins

  Chapter Seventeen

  “On black please.” I pass the croupier my chips and she accepts without a glance. My hair is black and to my chin, my fringe heavy and thick. I don’t look like me, so for a night I can just be a woman who wants to blow off some steam at a casino.

  Black comes up and the croupier passes me the chips, saying nothing. The people around me pay no attention to the woman on the stool, wearing cropped black jeans and a cream vest top, a jacket pulled over to add some warmth. The atmosphere is muted.

  A man at the same table gives me the odd glance, and I suspect he’s interested in starting up a conversation. He followed me over from where I played twenty-one, which the couple of security detail that have come out tonight will have picked up on.

  “Black again.”

  The wheel spins.

  “I’ve heard there’s an agreement being discussed. If it’s done, the tax on the shipments will increase. It could put us out of business.” A man behind me is talking too loudly and I suspect he’s had more than enough to drink.

  “It’s Lennox. I heard that he’s pretty much running everything instead of the King now. I was never in favour of going back to having a monarch. What happened to a democracy? Voting in a party to lead on our behalf.” His friend is equally riled.

  “Need all of them to be fucking blown up. When Lennox ends up in charge he’ll have us back joining England too. Then we’ll have even less say. Seriously, I might just fucking move abroad.” The man slurs, but his sentiment is clear.

  I feel a presence behind me. I’m not concerned about safety; the two men inside the casino are good and there are more of the team around other areas of the building. I don’t turn round to see who it is, so it’s the voice that unnerves me.

  “I hope you’re not paying attention. There’s no agreement. I can assure you of that.”

  It’s deep and rich and reassuring. Distinctly English, with soft vowels and a lilt I've heard in dreams I’ve tried to forget.

  I turn around slowly, ignoring the loss the table has taken from me. Isaac is there, not looking like himself. Battered jeans and a worn T-shirt. The usual shadow on his jaw is now a beard but the eyes are the same.

  I think of Ben and I feel guilt, then pain. The hollowness inside hasn’t shrunk in the last week. I know he’s aware of pretty much wherever I am. He can find me if he wants.

  But he hasn’t.

  He didn’t mind if I kissed Isaac.

  I see Isaac’s high cheekbones, firm jaw. Eyes that remind me of bedrooms and being woken up with the birds just to have sex.

  “Do my security know you’re here?”

  He nods. “I let them know.”

  “How did you know where to find me?”

  “I asked.”

  “Who did you ask?”

  “Ben.”

  I get off my stool, picking up my chips. “Do you play poker?”

  “Everyday.”

  We play against each other on a table with four others. The lack of words is both a comforting and oppressive; I feel relief at having something other than the dull ache Ben has left.

  Isaac wears his poker face well, giving nothing away. Micky taught me to play when I was eighteen and needed something to do other than look pretty and cut ribbons. The stakes tonight aren’t high because that’s not the point. I’m not here to make anything.

  Two of our competitors throw down their cards, nothing left to bluff. My hand is strong, but not unbeatable.

  I glance at Isaac, who looks back. His eyes dance, challenging. There’s no way he’ll give up, but I don’t think that the cards are what matters here. He’s playing for something different.

  I add more to the stake. He copies and the other player folds.

  Isaac and I continue and I have to keep my eyes on my cards rather than him, because I’m afraid my face will give away more than the hand I have.

  Isaac calls.

  He beats my full house with a royal flush.

  It seems he holds all the hearts.

  We walk away from the table, heading towards a private room that I have booked. My room for the night is just above, giving me a view of the city. My view right now is of Isaac.

  He closes the door behind us.

  “You’re a good player.”

  “Thank you. Why did you want to find me?” My heart races and I don’t know if I want to go or stay.

  “Ben.”

  “I need more of an answer than that, Isaac.”

  “I wanted to check you’re alright.”

  The tears I’ve been choking back all week bubble up into my eyes and throat. I fight to press them back down, taught never to show weakness.

  I know so little about this man.

  “What’s Ben said?”

  He knows too much about me.

  Isaac strokes his beard. “Not much. Mainly that you’ve fallen out.”

  “Why would he tell you that?”

  Isaac doesn’t say anything.

  “That’s not fair. You know plenty, it seems about me and Ben. You saw us together. In Antigua.” It’s the first time I’ve spoken of it. “You watched him fuck me.”

  The poker face he’s been wearing all evening finally slips.

  “I’m sorry if I encroached on your privacy.”

  “D
id you like watching him fuck me?” The tears aren’t there anymore. Instead there’s something else, something darker. Something that burns.

  “Yes.”

  “Did you want it to be you fucking me?” I take a step towards him, curiosity now combining with desire. “Or did you want it to be you fucking him? Or being fucked by him?”

  His eyes cool, jaw tightens. “Why do you want to know? I watched your security guard fuck you in the ass and you want to know where I wanted to be?”

  “Yes. I gave you something. You owe me.” We’re close enough now to touch. There is security outside. The room is safe.

  I don’t know if I am.

  “I wanted to be fucking your mouth. Or your cunt.” His touches my face, cupping my chin. His grip is gentle; his gaze is not.

  I’m thinking about it. If he hadn’t just watched that night and instead he’d entered the room and joined us. Would I have let him? Would Ben?

  Ben.

  The hurt boils over and my arms go around Isaac’s neck, my mouth lifting to his. He doesn’t let me control the kiss. A hand holds the back of my head, fingers interweaved in my hair. His other hand is on my ass, kneading and pinching and gripping.

  I don’t know what I want. I don’t know where I want to be. Isaac’s beard is rough against my face, his hands asking. My nipples are hard and my cunt is wet. Both his hands move to my breasts, cupping them through my clothes, pushing them together. He isn’t gentle and I don’t want him to be. He undoes my bra strap and pushes it up, touching me under my clothes.

  He feels different to Ben. He smells different.

  I stumble backwards, away from him and he lets go immediately. A myriad of thoughts flicker across his face.

  “I’m sorry,” Isaac says. “I shouldn’t have taken advantage.”

  “You didn’t. I just feel like I’m cheating, even though I don’t think Ben would care.”

  “He would. A lot. Nothing’s straightforward.”

  He moves towards me and this time his touch is different. It’s a hug, his body wrapped around mine. I feel his erection pressed against me, hear his groan when my hand moves to his waist.

  “Why did Ben not mind that I’d kissed you?”

  Isaac’s hands run over my back. “Because it was me. The rest you need to hear from him.”

  I look up and this time he starts the kiss. It’s soft and doesn’t take anything from me, just leaves me wanting.

  A sharp sound stops everything, an alarm blares through the building. The two guards on duty rush in, one of them putting his arm around me straight away, leading me to the door at the back of the room which I know will take us outside where a car will be waiting.

  “Fire,” he says.

  I turn around, seeing Isaac following us.

  “Deliberate?” he says.

  “Is there any other type?” the second guard answers. Explosion in the foyer. We need to get the hell out of here.”

  The car seems to speed away even before I’ve put on a seat belt. Isaac is next to me, his phone ringing incessantly.

  I check mine, wondering if Ben’s name will come up and it does.

  “Are you okay?” he says as soon as I answer.

  “I’m in the car with Isaac and we’re heading away. What do you know about it?”

  “You’re with Isaac? That’s good. Looks like it was a protestor.” He sounds calm.

  “About?”

  “Lennox gave a speech this evening about a deal with England. It was unplanned and although some sides are happy, the extremists aren’t.”

  “Why the casino? No one knew I was there.”

  Ben doesn’t reply. I understand his answer. Someone did know I was there.

  “Did he tell them?”

  “Isaac?” Ben keeps his voice low. “No. But we think we know who. It’s okay. Everyone’s safe and it wasn’t anything more than what would evacuate the building. We’ll get you home safe.” He hangs up.

  Isaac stays on his phone until we get near to his hotel, making and receiving calls. He opens the door as soon as the car stops.

  “I’ll see you soon, Blair.”

  He doesn’t wait for me to respond, but my phone sounds with a message five minutes later from him.

  When you get home look at the stars.

  When I get home I’m greeted by my mother, who’s worried and concerned and annoyed with my brother. I reassure her and head to my room, opening the doors to the balcony and stepping outside. The stars are exposed above me, swirls of small dots of light. I think of Isaac and Ben and I stop trying to make sense of things.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Two days later Franklyn informs me of a family brunch in my parents’ lounge as soon as my alarm goes off. He wears a mask of impartiality, rarely smiling or looking angry, but today there’s a look of bemusement in his eyes that he can’t hide.

  “What about the tour of St Patrick’s?” I ask, aware that I’m meant to go to a convent nearby to visit a new home they’ve erected to care for nuns in their retirement.

  “Postponed until tomorrow and your parents have this down as an…” he frowns, “emergency. Although your father is well, so there’s nothing health-wise to worry about. Coffee?”

  “Always. Is my brother there?”

  Franklyn nods. “And Miss Andrews.”

  Elise. With a title. Franklyn’s known her as long as he’s known me and he’s never called her anything but Elise.

  “Interesting.”

  “Indeed.” He turns around to leave, half an ounce of flamboyance in his step, which is the only thing that betrays his own intrigue. Franklyn loves to hear gossip, he just never repeats it. Not even to me.

  I shower and dress, leaving my hair damp. The visit to the convent was the only thing on my agenda today, so I now have a free day, a precious thing, as autumn is when my schedule becomes packed.

  My father has rallied in the last few days, since the heat of summer has died away he’s had more energy. We know the prognosis; he has a life sentence, but we can’t predict an end date. Today’s brunch may be because there’s been a change in what the consultants say and the cancer is in abeyance. Or it may be something to do with Miss Andrews.

  They’re waiting for me when I enter their suite. My parents are sitting in their favourite chairs, my father dressed, his bald head shiny.

  On the sofa, Lennox and Elise sit side by side, he holds her hand. She looks radiant; her hair is glossy and styled, her complexion clear and fresh. She smiles at me when she sees me and I can tell she’s desperate to talk.

  I sit down on the rocking chair that used to belong to my grandmother and take the mimosa my mother offers me.

  “I’m sorry you’ve had to cancel your visit, Blair,” she says, taking a mimosa for herself. She’s gone into the unreadable mode, where I can’t tell anything about how she’s feeling. This is her public face; the glossy sheen she’s learned to wear in the years of being married to a monarch.

  “It’s okay. I’m sure the Sisters will wait another day.” I’ve been to the convent a few times; part of my studies was on religion and they were kind enough to help me out by being the subjects of a research project.

  My mother smiles. Again, it’s her public face which tells me she’s having to box in what she’s actually feeling.

  Elise has her hand on my brother’s thigh now, his hand covering it. I try to stop myself from staring, unable to swallow the mimosa. I think I know where this is heading.

  “We have something to tell you.” Lennox is looking at me. “We were going to wait until after brunch, but we thought we’d say it and then celebrate.”

  “I’m intrigued.” I manage a smile that I know is identical to my mother’s.

  Lennox pulls his hand away, looks at our father and then to me. “I’ve known Elise forever and she’s known us, every bad thing as well as the good. We were at the cabin the other night – when you were at the casino, Blair – and I realised that…” He glances at her and she reache
s for his hand.

  My brother has just dug himself into hole. One full of boxes that he’s managing to tick.

  “I realised that Elise has been there all this time and I’ve never been astute enough to see her for what she is. She’s perfect for me. She knows us, knows our messy lives and still she loves us. And me.” He looks proud.

  I clutch the arms of Grannie’s rocking chair.

  “So I asked her to be my wife, and she said yes!”

  To his credit, Lennox looks absolutely smitten. He gazes at Elise and cups her jaw, before placing a sweet kiss on her lips.

  She’s beaming and I feel my heart break for her.

  “Congratulations.” The word doesn’t choke me, not like I thought it would. I do feel happy for them, for Elise. This has been what she’s wanted: Lennox. Whether that’s because of his title or because of him or all of, I’ve never been sure. But if this is in Lennox’s master plan, then she’ll be the next Queen of Scotland. “I’m really happy for you both.”

  I stand and cross over the room to them, hugging Elise as she stands too. The embrace is warm – I’ve been hugging this woman since we were seven. But this time it’s different. She’s been skirting around the edges of our chessboard for years, and finally she’s become a player. A potential queen.

  I go to Lennox; the person I’ve known all my life but sometimes know as well as I would a stranger.

  “Congratulations,” I repeat the word, I look up at him. My beautiful only sibling; tall and handsome and oh so ambitious for his country and himself. He is not our father. Our father never had a plan beyond stability. Lennox promises something new, something for more innovative, something far more dangerous. “I’m happy for you.”

  And I am, both of them. But I’m terrified as well. The power wielded in this room right now is enough to fuse the nation, the island even. And I’m not sure they’re aware of it.

  For the first time since my father’s diagnosis, I’m scared of our political future.

  “When are you going to announce the engagement?” She isn’t wearing a ring yet, which tells me this really was one of Lennox’s rash decisions.