The Parlour (VDB #1) (3 page)

Pulling myself up again, I resign myself to the fact that even if this isn’t forever, it is for now, and I’m a lot better off than an awful lot of other people out there. I’ve got clothes, heat, food, water, and hopefully some money coming at some point. I wander up the steps to the kitchen area and flick the kettle on, because tea always makes things better, and maybe I can start planning an exit strategy if I think carefully enough. I just need to make it through this training, whatever it entails, and then I can get my money and get out of here.

“Alexander, I must leave,” he said, trying to control the imminent tirade that would surely happen in a split second if it were anyone but the bronzed bastard in front of him.

“No.” Infuriating, beautiful man. Why did he always have to be so stubborn?

“I have a shipment leaving. It is imperative I return to New York. You know this,” he very nearly begged.

“Neither of you are going anywhere.”

This was not going well. He stared at those piercing blue eyes and tried to talk to him, tried to tell him what was happening without Elizabeth being made aware, but the fool had become his usual wall of closed doors and nonsensical behaviour. Idiot. He watched Alexander turn and head back towards the cabin, the same fucking cabin that he had hidden in everyday rather than confronting the issue at hand and dealing with it.

“Dear boy, you–” Alexander’s spin and scowl were enough to stop Pascal mid-sentence. It was a habit he still found hard to break, but that growing frame and look of disgust were warning enough. His eyes found the floor as he tried to find another way of explaining. Regardless of the fact that Pascal had accepted his terms, Alexander White still had so much to learn about himself, some of which he was only beginning to appreciate and understand. Control of his new found deliverance, the thing he’d pushed for all these years, would take time and careful crafting. He felt his insides shiver as he struggled to lift his gaze. One wrong look and this would go exceptionally erroneously. He could still sense his back tingling as it struggled to heal effectively. Thirty-two lashes he’d received before his knees gave way – thirty-two excruciating and extraordinarily instinctive whips of precision against his spine, neck, buttocks and ribs. They were the thrashes of a God proving sin a necessity in order to heal the pain inside. They were all-consuming, degrading, heaven sent, and filled with aggression. Just as he needed them, just as they both needed them. It had been the first time Alexander had embraced his skills and abilities to full effect. It seemed killing one’s brother, and being made a fool of by your father was reason enough to force hell forward. Elizabeth had not been so ready for such hedonism. She was still not ready. She was too pure, too perfect, and too fucking angelic, despite her ever-growing ferocity. 

He pulled in an aggravated breath and took a step towards the man, slowly. He had to go. Lucinda’s shipment was of increasing concern and the next batch needed his approval. Even if he didn’t want anything else to do with the woman, he did need to close this particular cargo’s hold. Jon Insbrucker was not a man to be crossed, nor dismissed, regardless of the fact that he often played genial cards with him in Berlin. He’d get out of it the moment he could, close the business perhaps, or at least remove Lucinda from it, but years of planning had gone into the preparation of slaves for sale, a deal he’d made with his wife a long time ago. She was doing increasingly well in the business, and it made him a great deal of money.

However, he was the front of the company, the deal breaker, the engineer of the prices, clients, and types of submissives available. Women and men were picked from the street, trained, prepared, paid, and then given a brand new name and life, as long as they fulfilled their obligations. Most were exceedingly content with their newfound happiness; a few were not so pleased. They were dealt with swiftly before they became delinquent. Unfortunately, Lucinda, ingenious as she may have been, could not be trusted with the skill of honing the foremost decisions without dragging his own name down with hers into the grime. She was unpredictable, capricious.  He needed a fucking divorce, and a damn good lawyer.

Elizabeth walked into the middle of the conversation and put herself in front of him. Alexander scowled at her, too, and then raised that brow. She didn’t move, not one step away. She simply stood her ground and offered protection as the yacht swayed from side to side. She was becoming accustomed to life at sea. She should have been; they had been dallying here for over a month. Monotonously.

“Problem?” she snapped, her hands on her hips and her foot tapping. She was becoming as frustrated with the lack of any route onwards as Pascal.

“Move, Elizabeth. This has nothing to do with you,” the bastard said as he watched her stand defiantly. Her body was the epitome of grace as she stared the man they both loved down and refused to budge an inch. She should have used that tone carefully. She would not get a second chance at freedom. He knew himself that he would be bound more effectively next time. Either that or another helpful soul would not be present in the room.

“Everything has everything to do with me. Certainly if it concerns him, or you, or me,” she replied, waving a hand in the man’s face and revving herself up for some consuming explosion of fury.

Amusing as that might have been, he shook his head at the thought and wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her behind him. The protection was an endearing thought, but a completely inappropriate response to Alexander’s ever darkening eyes. Could she not see the odium in them? Alexander needed a positive reintroduction into reality, one he possibly wasn’t going to like much.

Needs must, though.

“If I do not go, the buyer may withdraw. I shall lose close to the amount of two million, and the word will be passed around that I am disinclined to agree with Jon Insbruker. It is not acceptable that my income or reputation should fail because of your inadequacies, Sir,” he snapped with as much enthusiasm as he dared. Two minutes of silence ensued as the beautiful animal stared at him, two minutes of breath-taking irritation as the facts sank in and warned of the possible impending storm. Fundamentally, it was now as much Alexander’s business as it was his own. His own collar was the proof of that. Although, given Alexander’s own collar, laying around Elizabeth’s neck, which was ever more confusing, perhaps it was her business in reality. He turned his head to look at her. She scowled at him, too. Why had she given him a cane? Stupid girl. This needed organising. No one was in control of anyone.

“I’ll give you the money,” the man eventually said with an aggravated sigh, turning from them and beginning to walk away again. Pascal spun to face him, very nearly feeling to need to smack him for his lunacy.

“That is not the point, Alexander,” he shouted, watching his frame skulking away. “You cannot keep yourself, or us, locked on the Meritato forever. Delightful as this little escape may be, you are damn well disgracing yourself now. I will not allow Insbrucker to hold something over my head, nor yours.”

The gasp behind him didn’t go unnoticed. His rose presumably thought that a step too far. It wasn’t. It was time the bastard was pushed a little further, harder. Wallowing in self-doubt was unacceptable. The response began with that damn brow rising as he turned his head back, a look of utter contempt drawing across his brow.

“What are you hiding? What does Jon want from you?”

“Nothing. I simply wish to–”

“Pascal,” Alexander growled, and oh how he adored that sound, relished it with aplomb. The slight tremble that rode over his skin only proved the point more so.

“I have to return. There is nothing other than that. Perhaps I should ask Elizabeth’s permission instead. She is, after all, the one with the power here.” There was another somewhat peculiar gasp behind him, but nothing again from the man in front. He just continued to stare as the bastard waited for a more truthful explanation. He could have one later, but not in front of his rose. She was not ready for such disturbing news, nor the premise following it, regardless of her confounding superior status in this triangle of three.

“Alex, just let him go. If he needs to get back to it, that’s fine. What’s the harm? I’ll still be here,” she cut in, trying to manoeuvre her delicious body around him. She wouldn’t be staying here with Alexander, not in this frame of mind, and certainly not alone. She would be leaving with him. They’d go together. That way he could keep her safe, as was his job. Alexander’s eyes didn’t move from his. He didn’t acknowledge her interjection in the slightest, but the gaze was softer now, less dramatic and perhaps more inclined to agree, as it nearly always was when she spoke near him. Pascal narrowed his eyes at the man and felt the concern and the nerves coming off him in waves. Just the thought of being alone with her was enough to cause Alexander’s thoughts to turn chaotic. Perhaps that was the problem more than him leaving. He could use that.

“Please, Alexander,” he said quietly, watching out for an impending eruption and tucking his rose behind his back again. “I will take Elizabeth with me, if that is more acceptable to you.”

That thought should be troubling enough to get the man out of his depressive hole and back into the world of the living.

“When do you need to go?” he asked, flicking his eyes to the woman behind him and smiling a little. It was just a hint of real warmth, possibly the first hint he’d allowed himself in weeks.

“The shipment is set for Wednesday morning,” Pascal replied with a smirk. Elizabeth was the problem. He obviously didn’t want to be alone with her, nor allow Pascal a second of time alone either. Not unpredictably. She was an exceedingly tempting prospect for men with hands such as theirs.

“Call Phillip. I’ll set us off back to Rome now. We should be there by tomorrow morning,” he said, walking past them both calmly to the bow and beginning to unfasten the spinnaker.

Elizabeth rounded Pascal and stared straight into his eyes, flicking her head occasionally to the man they loved to see what he was doing.

“How did you manage that? I so wish I could do that. How do you make him do what you want him to? It’s actually repulsive to watch, if not completely fascinating,” she whispered. He leapt up to drop the main sail down as she followed him and hovered below, skimming his own eyes across her tanned body, and adjusting himself. A month was a long time to go without his cock buried to the hilt in something.

“I used you, my dear,” he said, leaning down to kiss her mouth and then starting the upward climb.

“How? And what will he do while we’re gone? Will he be okay without us? I mean, what if he...” She trailed off, peering over her sunglasses at the man she loved with eyes full of unease. He was moving his body around as physically as possible once more, draining his energy as he had been doing every day. Swimming, weights, cleaning the decks even, quite remarkably. It was becoming monotonous, intolerably dull, and thoroughly boring. He halted his positioning on the mast and gazed for a while. How was he going to help him find enough control for Elizabeth, for love?

A challenge indeed.

“He will be exemplary,” he called down, continuing his perusal of such a specimen wearing nothing but shorts. His body was now a deep, dark brown colour, his near black hair shiny and lustrous. His physique could only be described as that of a God, Neptune, maybe. Stimulating. He adjusted his cock again and untied the ropes to let the sail down. Fucking men. He needed to fuck something, without Alexander’s permission. “Would you ask him if you could fuck me, my dear? He will be more amenable if it comes from you.”

“No,” she replied absentmindedly, now tapping her finger on her lips in concentration. “And why will he be fine without us?” she asked as he dropped to the floor beside her and picked her up. She felt quite good in his arms, and was becoming more comfortable there by the day. Love.

It simply would not do, not at all.

“Elizabeth, do you honestly believe that he would let me take you halfway across the world without him?”

“Oh,” she replied, her mouth creating that wonderful shape of hers as she twitched her brow in understanding and giggled. “Good plan, Batman.” Was he not Dracula last week? Batman now, too, it seemed.

“Hmmm. I prefer Dracula. And he is still scared of hurting you. Thankfully, he is also still anxious and quite jealous of me. It is what you call a win-win, yes?”

She frowned again and fiddled with her bracelet. “No, Pascal. No one’s doing any screwing, or loving. There is no win-win going on here. He’s like someone I don’t know, and he won’t let me in anymore.”

She was right. Alexander wasn’t letting either of them in. He was closed, withdrawn, a shadow of the force he was becoming, invariably ashamed of his behaviour, or at the very least confounded by it. And there wasn’t enough laughter or amusement, either. So he walked toward the man with her in his arms, stopped as Alexander slowly stood up to look at them, and then threw her over the side. She screamed beautifully, and Alexander watched her with a smile, a real smile. He felt his heart expand a little as the smile grew wider at her splashing and swearing up at them.

“Fucking arsehole.” She really was so eloquent in her fury.

“Dive in there and tell her you love her.”

“She knows that,” the man replied, chuckling and continuing to watch her swimming around.

“There could be fucking sharks. Are there sharks? Oh my God, there are sharks here, aren’t there? That was so not funny. Alex, help me, or hit him. For God’s sake...”

“She does not, not entirely, and she is scared of you. Remind her of who you are for her, not who you are for me,” he replied, watching the man scowl at the deck in response and then lift his gaze to her again.

“How, Pascal? How does a man who could have killed her tell her she is still the most precious thing in the world to him?” the idiot replied, bracing his elbow on his knee and continuing to watch her like a wolf ready to pounce. He needed to fuck something, too. He would oblige himself, but it was she that the man needed.