Killing Time: The Bonus Collection (35 page)

AFTER RORY’S CONFESSION, IT TOOK
a long time for me to go to sleep. In a few minutes after our conversation had ended, he was knocked out and dead to the world.

It wasn’t so easy for me because my wine haze had worn off hours ago and now I felt restless and uneasy. I slid from underneath his grip and padded my way to the bathroom. The place was as big as an average person’s master bedroom therefore we had his and her sides. I opened my medicine cabinet and grabbed a two milligram Xanax, popped it in my mouth and washed it down with sink water.

I waited for it to take effect and several minutes later, that peaceful feeling of drowsiness and an urge to lay down hit me gently and in soft waves. I strode back to the bed and slipped back into Rory’s embrace.

“Are you all right?” he inquired in a sleepy voice.

“Sure, I’m fine.”

“Can’t sleep?”

“I couldn’t turn my mind off.”

“Did you pop a Xanax?”

I paused before I answered, “Yes.”

“Then you’ll be able to rest. Just know I will put up with your use of a controlled substance because I realize your sister’s death devastated you but I won’t allow you to take them indefinitely,” he explained in a soothing tone.

I felt like a child being chastised but somehow, my head bowed and I whispered, “I know.”

“Good. Then in the meantime, let’s go to sleep.”

Rory still beat me to the punch and was asleep before I drifted off into that inevitable place which quietly called me.

I knew what the issue was between us and it wasn’t even the fucking Xanax. Yet again I had missed a perfectly good time to tell him I loved him and yet again, I’d choked, panicked and said nothing at all.

Yes, I had told him I trusted him but he would have to hear the words from me and they terrified me so badly, I felt like I was being asked to take a dive from the Empire State Building. Wasn’t the act of falling in love a bit like that in the end?

I knew in my heart he wouldn’t wait for much longer. I would have to tell him or risk losing him and everything we’d worked so hard to achieve against unbelievable odds.

I had to make the jump and the answer was obviously expected sooner rather than later but the bigger question for me was what would happen once I admitted my feelings for him and would he still love me as much as he did now?

Deep down, I knew the answer, but love, like life, was never easy or cut and dry. It was a chance I was willing to take but the question was when exactly?

I finally allowed myself to drift to sleep and in my dreams, I murmured to Rory I loved him and for that one moment, everything was absolutely perfect and the way it was meant to be between the two of us.

Now, if I could only make it happen in real life, I could finally kill off heartache for good and make both of us content and happy again.

A preview of
Killing Desire
, the second novel in
The Ties That Bind Trilogy
!

Chapter One

THE FUNERAL FOR MY SISTER
, Trésor, was just as sad and depressing as I thought it would be. Rory was nice enough to rent out rooms for everyone who’d decided to stay overnight in Colmar at the Hostellerie Le Marechal, a grand hotel that looked like a large restored estate in some quaint German town though we were in France.

The whole feel of the Alsatian region was a cool blend of French ambiance and German efficiency that I didn’t mind at all. As I knew Alsatian, it was nice to speak the language with the locals and Rory surprised the hell out of me when he began chatting with a few of the locals in the dialect I spoke so well.

It certainly took my mind off the funeral which was held in Herrlisheim-près-Colmar located on Rue de la Gare where a new cemetery had replaced the old one which had closed in the mid-nineteenth century.

Trésor’s body was laid to rest and afterwards the guests had hors d’œuvres and cocktails at the hotel. Many of the guests I had never seen before and could only assume they were friends of Trésor’s and Rory’s while we did have a smattering of family from my father’s side who attended as well. They still lived in the area and were happy to make it though of course sad it was the death of a relative which had brought us all together again.

I found the whole situation a bit awkward, especially after Severin showed up with his new “girl-toy”, Ingrid as she was known. She was his slave-in-training so she could still use her name to introduce herself to people but he was doing quite the job breaking her down as quickly as possible.

A tiny young woman, she couldn’t have been more than five feet and perhaps eighty-five pounds soaking wet. Her long flaxen blonde hair, clear skin and bright sky blue eyes spoke of youth in its prime. I flagged her easily as being no more than twenty-two if a day.

After what Rory disclosed in the car that day we’d arrived in France, I didn’t know if I could view the man the same ever again. How could he have gotten my sister pregnant when she was supposed to be on birth control? How could she have allowed something like that to happen?

The arrangements for the funeral had happened so fast under the direction of Rory, I still hadn’t the time to look through her journals again. It’d taken us about a week and half before we’d comfortably settled in Vaucresson, an ultra-posh western suburb of Paris, and the next we were boarding a plane for Alsace to formally say goodbye to my sister once and for all. I hated funerals with a passion yet the timing was practical for another reason. No one wanted the maudlin occasion to affect their Christmas plans therefore the funeral had taken place the weekend of the sixteenth of December.

The flower arrangements were beautiful, the food delicious and the alcohol exquisite but I smelled and tasted none of it. Again, I was numb and it had nothing to do with the icy cold weather.

I wore a tasteful black, long-sleeved, fluted-hem sweater-dress by Yves Saint Laurent with a pair of thick tights and a pair of Alexander McQueen suede shoe boots which were perfect for the occasion though the five-inch heel did make me ponder why I had chosen them seeing as the whole valley was covered in snow.

It was pretty depressing as everyone wore mostly black and the somber mood never dissipated. Both my parents seemed a bit shell-shocked by the whole experience but neither cried, at least not in public as that wouldn’t have appeared dignified and above all, they had their pride if nothing else.

Half-way through the reception, I walked up to the room I shared with Rory and sat on the bed. I’d snuck away as quietly as I could because I didn’t want to see the looks of pity from anyone, let alone my best friend or Rory who always glanced at me as if any moment, I was bound to fall apart.

They would have never known how right they were about that assessment because it had finally hit me. It had taken a trip half-way around the world to allow the whole ugly incident to sink in and on that bed, I collapsed and sobbed quietly. I dabbed at my eyes repeatedly with tissue, pulling away makeup and mascara with every wipe.

I buried my face in a wad of tissue and screamed as loud as I could for all the mistakes I’d made, all the opportunities I’d allowed to pass me by and a relationship that would never have proper closure. Then I beat my thighs repeatedly with the balls of my fist, if only to feel the physical pain as much as the mental anguish tortured and pulled at my psyché day after fucking day.

No one had to explain it wasn’t my fault and I had nothing to feel guilty about but I did and it was literally eating me alive from the inside out. The feeling of knowing perhaps her murderer walked around downstairs, ever so cool, calm, and collective knowing they had gotten away with their heinous crime. They would never understand or empathize with how their crime had torn a fragile family apart nor would they care. I didn’t know if that was the worse part of all but it felt as if my whole life teetered on the edge of a goddamn precipice and I hated it…wanted it all—the pain and the feelings of guilt and shame to be over and done with me.

So self-absorbed was my self-pity, I barely heard the door open and close. I knew it was Rory by his stealth movements and he immediately knelt in front of me.

“
Liebling
, what have you done?” he inquired softly.

His gorgeous aquamarine eyes—a mixture of ice blue and pale green—were mesmerizing as usual. He’d shaved for the occasion therefore his perfect features including a strong, masculine chin, perfect cheekbones, a lovely patrician nose, lips meant to be devoured and exquisite forehead crowned by dark brown hair with black cherry highlights. Not only was he an extremely handsome man but his looks were combined with an irresistible sexual magnetism that made women weak in the knees, myself included.

The body that went with the face was no less than stunning. Tall and lean with hidden muscles and the purposeful stride of the ultra-wealthy, he was indeed a perfect package. Unfortunately, I’d inherited him by default. My sister had been his lover before me and she was a devoted slave to her master though their relationship was in fact more of a dominant and submissive. He’d explained to me my sister didn’t do well with half-measures hence the terms he used for them to her but she wouldn’t know the first thing about what it felt like to be a slave.

I sniffled as he slipped my hands into his own and held them tightly. “The pain…it became all too much and I just had to have a good cry and I’m fine, really.”

His gaze upon me never wavered and it made me feel nervous as if he knew I had something to hide. “Lay down, rest. No one is going to fault you for having a weak moment, Aurélie. Your sister is dead and you are allowed to grieve. I don’t know how I would act if anything happened to Severin…” he trailed off.

I took his advice and lay back on the bed. He slid my boots off and reached under my dress to take off my tights. I knew his actions weren’t the least bit sexual as he would have made his intentions a lot more obvious but neither he nor I were all that interested in sexual intercourse at the moment.

Rory’s deep intake of breath gave me pause and I sat up partially, using my elbows to lift my upper body as I glared at him, annoyed. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that question?” he inquired.

I looked down at my soft olive-skinned thighs and saw the purplish bruises as they began to form. He touched the largest one which drew a whimper from me. Funny how they didn’t hurt nearly as much when I’d self-inflicted them only minutes ago but now I felt an intense fire and throbbing pain every time he touched one.

“I didn’t realize…I was just in so much pain, I began to pound my fists against my thighs and I couldn’t have known…”

“You do realize you can’t wear anything slightly revealing until these bruises heal? You’ll have people thinking I am beating you and I have never been a big-time sadist who has ever wanted to leave these kinds of marks. You look like a domestic violence victim, sweetheart.”

I reached out for his face and smoothed his hair out of his eyes. “Yes, I know I do but you have nothing to worry about because you didn’t do anything to me. I promise to keep my legs covered until they heal, okay?”

“Good—”

“Aurélie,
chérie
, I have been looking everywhere for you!” Nicole exclaimed as she burst into the room though she drew in a breath and covered her mouth in horror when she saw my thighs.

Her large cerulean eyes drifted towards Rory in accusation “
Fils de pute
—what the
hell
have you done to her?”