AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He wouldn’t answer that. “I’m just glad you didn’t.”
“And Kafka?”
“You don’t need to know anything more about the man than you already do. Trust me, he’s forgotten you by now.”
That was a hard piece of her life to dismiss so easily. “So, I am…safe from him?”
“Yes, you’re safe. You’re safe with me.” He took her hand and held it in his.
“What about the bracelet? The rules?”
“As long as you were given to me, it’s for me to decide who you screw and who you don’t, what you wear and all those other concerns.”
Although her mind was spinning, she felt better than she had in days.
“So, what happens next? I mean, if you’re a fisherman, does that mean I’ll be moving to St. Martina?”
He laughed “Not exactly. That really is just a part-time job—if you can call it a job at all. In the rest of my life, I’m an investment broker. I probably live not more than fifty miles from you, in Baltimore.”
“So, how many other surprises do you have for me?”
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough for one week? How about getting used to what you know before we delve into anything else?”
“Well, I can’t disagree there.”
Laney settled back, letting him hold her hand, letting herself get used to how that felt, letting herself absorb everything he’d just said. She would probably be running this conversation over in her mind for weeks to get it right. But the lines between truth and fantasy seemed to have blurred into a mystery that might never be solved to her satisfaction. She had so many questions… fears, really, running through her head…Could she trust Alex Greenwood—Alexi Ruschke?” Just the sound of the name gave her chills.
At the moment, she trusted no one…certainly not herself to see clearly where she should move next. She was forced to go with her gut instincts, which she’d done often enough; let intuition lead and hope for the best. Right now? Her hand felt good in Alex’s soft grasp and a warm glow spread through her body, while a tickle of fresh desire made her bare bottom squirm against the leather seat. She was still wearing the Marquis’ bracelet and was still not wearing any panties, making herself available…in this case, to her new master.
Epilogue
Eight months later…
In a corner table, out of the way enough to be sequestered from the rest of Mama Libby’s clientele, the three sat drinking Mama’s specialty Mint-Juleps. Mama’s had been around for years, the kind of cozy older restaurant that served delicious comfort food in an atmosphere perfect for discreet conversation.
Sandra started talking first, she usually did, announcing with a bit of giddy excitement after her friends’ barrage of questions about Essex, “Jason, Essex and I are a happy little threesome, I’m delighted to report. Although the three of us are rarely together. I guess you could say that I have a husband and a sadistic lover. Sure, there were some bumps there at the start—I thought Jason might not like Essex intruding in our lives. But the man seems to come around when I need him, just enough to keep our sex life from getting boring. He’s very fond of spanking, which is currently one of Jason’s favorite sports. What I’d give for some good bondage…” she rolled her eyes. “But really, I have no complaints. What about you, ‘Lise,” she turned to Elise, “I keep hearing these stories about Cabral Icaboni and his starlets…”
Elise, being typically introspective, took som
e time before she could frame her answer. It wasn’t just theatrics this time, she truly was unsure what to say. “I think…” she cocked her head, “I think we may be getting married, now that my divorce is final.”
“What!” The two dropped their jaws.
Elise looked aghast herself, as if she didn’t believe she’d actually said this. “Yes, married.” Her voice was sweet and breathy, and filled with wonder and excitement. “A month ago, he broke up with his latest fling—despite what you hear in the newspapers, that little theatre opening on the arm of Mimi Delaney was just a publicity photo op. Anyway, two weeks ago, after this terribly nasty scene—he had me tied in a closet while he was making love to some bimbo—after that, he took me to dinner and confessed that he was unhappy. He had to get things off his chest. He said that he couldn’t live without me. He asked if he was too hard on me? Was he going too far? Didn’t I sometimes want to stop his crazy behavior? He tells me he’s a little unbalanced and he needs me to keep him steady. It was the oddest conversation I’ve ever had. But he’s been like a reformed addict ever since. Oh, the hard stuff, the beating to cure his raging passions, that hasn’t exactly stopped, but there have been no other women. He’s still bossy and dictatorial. He flies off the handle at the strangest things. He’s very right, he’s a little unbalanced. But we’re artists…we can have these idiosyncrasies…don’t you think?” Like she was asking if it was all right. “Two days ago, he took me to dinner at that new bistro. Everyone in town saw us. The whole orchestra knows,” she stopped, desperately wanting them to comment.
“I can’t judge, Elise,” Laney finally broke the silence. “It sounds like a terribly passionate relationship to me. And I’m all for that.”
“Oh, I disagree,” Sandra jumped in. “You admit that he’s unbalanced, you know his history, and you want to marry him? You’ve got a lot of heartache awaiting you. Why would you…?”
“Well, for the obvious reason,” she looked back and forth from Sandra to Laney to Sandra again, “I think I’m in love.” She got a little feisty now. “Don’t ask me to explain it, Sandra. I won’t justify it. I won’t. It just is.”
“Oh, you will forever be naïve.”
“And I like that, Sandra.”
“It’s your life. I just wonder what your story will be six months from now.”
“Don’t be so cynical.”
