Masked Definitions (29 page)

I exhale gravely. “You wouldn’t have let me go otherwise.”

His silence only confirms my statement.

Elijah nudges me so I clear my throat and continue. “I just wanted to call to let you know that I’m safe…”

“Where are you?”

“That’s not important.”

“It fucking is. Tell me where you are so we can speak face to face.”

“There’s no need. I’ve made my choice, I’m just…” I don’t know what to say. This is awful. I’m trying to keep him sweet but I don’t know how to do that. “I love you, I always have, but I can’t… handle you anymore.”

“Handle me?” His voice drops to a dangerous level. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

“Where the
fuck
are you?”

Sigh. “Max…”

“Are you with another man?”

“Max!”

“Are you with your mum? Did she twist you into this shite?”

“No.” I want to pinch the bridge of my nose so badly. “Leave her out of this.”

“Just tell me where you are…”

“NO! Max… no.” I stand and bite hard on my lower lip. “I’m done. I want a divorce. I want to move on.”

His laughter is cold and anything but humorous. “I’ll find you eventually. You know I will.”

“Don’t do this,” I whisper, turning away from Elijah and taking the phone off loudspeaker. “Please… just let me go.”

“You don’t want to leave me. We’re having issues that’s all.”

“You know that’s not true.”

“It is true. We can…”

Elijah snatches the phone from my hand and presses the red button to disconnect the call. I gape at him, unsure what he is doing.

“You’ve broken it off. It’s done.” He says softly, tucking the phone into the back pocket of my jeans. I assume that he’s turned it off as Max doesn’t seem to be calling me back. “There’s no use in dragging it out. His delusional mind isn’t switching to normal at any point soon.”

He has a point. “I just… I’m worried.”

“Don’t be; your mum is safe,” he assures me, pressing his lips to my forehead. “You’re safe. I’m safe. As long as you stay here, there’s no way he’ll know where you are. Soon we’ll be in America.”

“I can’t wait.” I place my hands on his chest and lean back. “Any news on that job for me?”

“Until we’re sure of Max’s intentions, you aren’t taking a step outside without me.”

I roll my eyes but agree anyway. “Fine. Though I was talking about America.”

“If we get you the appropriate permits you can do whatever you like, as long as you remain by my side.”

“Possessive, I like it.” I laugh and the look he gives me is one of disbelief. “When it’s not on a level that’s crazy, that is.” Flipping the conversation I ask, “What’s going on with your sister? Do you think she’ll tell Max?”

His chest becomes rigid and I feel his breathing stop. “I should call her.”

“Will she be that bitchy?”

“She’s still sore about Penelope and her husband. It wouldn’t surprise me.”

Fuck.
“You should go and call her or something.”

He nods and walks two fingers down my spine. A large hand cups my behind and brings me tight to him so my navel rubs against his groin.

I smile and kiss his chest. “Go and call her.”

“I should, but I don’t want to.” Silver eyes vanish behind heavy lids. “I want to take you to bed for a nap.”

“Me too,” I agree but all I see in my mind is my mum, tied up and frightened. “But we need to ensure your sister doesn’t make this situation worse than it already is.”

He kisses my head and gently pushes me away. “Do we still have pie left?”

“We need proper food before we have any more pie.”

His answering pout is so bloody cute, I snatch him back to me and kiss it from his face.

“Why is it that in the midst of this fucked up situation, I don’t regret a single thing? Surely I should feel some kind of guilt, or fear over how others will judge us, but I don’t.” He asks quietly. “I think that’s the only shame I feel, shame that I’m not ashamed.”

“Maybe because you’re happy? Maybe because I’m happy? Also because you’ve saved me from someone who isn’t good for me or for anyone.”

His head nods and his eyes lips twitch. “Yes, all of that. Plus, have you seen my girlfriend?” He drags me back to him and his tongue pushes against my own the second my lips separate with a gasp. “She’s fucking stunning.”

“Go,” I giggle, slapping his arm. “Get your shit done.”

“Spoil sport.” Nipping my lip and releasing, he finally heads for the door to go and call his sister.

Smiling, I watch him leave. I am so fucking happy. Despite it all, I’m happy and even if it doesn’t last, I’m not wasting a second of it while it’s here.

As Elijah takes time in his office to call his sister, I make us both an extremely late dinner. We aren’t doing our bodies any favours by eating at past eleven but I’m hungry. I can think of the damage tomorrow.

I admire the large, beautiful kitchen. It’s such a piece of art in itself. It’s still much too big for my liking, but if it’s what Elijah enjoys then I’ll get used to it.

“I was thinking that we could go fishing again.”

“Now?”

“No, stupid.” He sits on a stool at the counter and watches me move around the kitchen. “But sometime soon.” Then he clears his throat and averts his eyes when I bring mine to his. “I’m also getting you a new phone and number.”

Odd. “Why?”

“So he can’t contact you and because your phone is such a brick.”

Frown. “Is not.”

“Is too.”

I wave him off and turn back to the pasta bubbling in the pan on the stove. “Bossy.”

“But you’ll listen?”

“If it’ll make you happy.” I hear his phone ring. It never stops ringing, all day and all night. I think this is one of the reasons I’m so averse to the idea of social networking sites and modern forms of communication. I don’t like the idea of being available all of the time. I was born in the wrong era.

“I’ll call you in the morning.” He clips to whoever is on the line. “Goodnight.” Then he rounds the counter and helps me drain the pasta but says nothing about who it was or what it was about. I don’t ask because I know he’ll tell me when he’s ready and it was probably something work related that would bore me to death anyway.

As promised, Elijah purchased me a new phone that he promises isn’t difficult to get the hang of. I already dropped it and the screen cracked on the left. I miss my brick.

Fortunately, it is insured so I don’t feel too badly about being so clumsy. When it happened, I was standing by Elijah’s desk as he spoke in French to somebody on the other line. Yep, French.

I was attempting to shoot these tiny birds at weird pigs in badly built houses when it slipped from my hand. I attempted to catch it with my other but it bounced off my palm and landed on the hard wood ground. My mouth formed a tight circle and my eyes widened as I stared at the object. Elijah only looked at me as his beautiful mouth continued to speak words in a language that I do not understand. His eyes sparkled with humour when I attempted to clean away the cracks so he wouldn’t see. Then he moved over to me, took the phone from my hand and kissed my forehead. I watched as he dropped it into the drawer of his desk and patted his knee for me to sit. I straddled his thigh with my back to him and played on his phone instead.

The sound of a window shattering startles me from my relaxed state on the couch. My immediate thoughts go to Max and my body begins to tremble.

Elijah isn’t home, though his security are, and in seconds someone enters the room and gathers me under one arm as another no doubt checks out the source of the break.

“What’s going on?” I whisper as though the perpetrator is in the house, which the security guy Ross, has assured me they aren’t.

“They’re just doing a sweep of the perimeter.”

“Has somebody called Elijah?” I ask, still trembling. I would call him myself but I don’t want him to hear how panicked I am.

“Not until we know what’s going on.”

“Probably just a vandal.” I hear through his earpiece. “There’s literally nobody in sight but a bunch of teenagers across the road. They ran when they saw me.”

“Probably a dare,” Ross responds, pressing something on his wrist.

“I’ll keep looking. Notify Henderson.”

Ross agrees and moves me into the kitchen. The broken window is on the other side of the house, in the dining area, the room that overlooks the street.

“We should get CCTV.”

“We have it; he’ll look it over when he comes back. You’re my priority right now.”

Understandable. “Thank you.”

“It’s an honour, Ms Corbin.” He smiles and shuts the kitchen blinds. I wait for him to call Elijah and explain the situation. I’m even more surprised when Elijah orders him to help me pack a bag and bring me to him.

Sometimes, even now after spending so much time with the Duke, I still can’t believe that he loves me – of all people – the way he claims to. Yet he shows it daily.

He loves me. He’s protecting me.

How do I show him that I feel the same?

It’s not until I’m safely in the car with Ross that my body stops shaking. The possibility that Max may find out about Elijah and I is looming over me like a thick, dark cloud that just won’t clear. Images of Elijah battered bloody by the man I married only make my trembling return so I try to push them from my mind.

“You’re safe, Ms Corbin,” Ross says softly, as though reading my thoughts.

“I know.”

Surprise hits me when we pull up outside of a place called Guy Fawkes Inn. It’s close to the city centre and has a reputation for being a cosy hotel with an extremely high rating. However, the style of it is more me than it is Elijah. I figured he’d choose somewhere more regal. Whatever that means.

I feel even more relaxed upon entering and being checked into my room, which is a beautiful, dark room with such an authentic feel to it. The first thing I do, even in the presence of Ross, is flop onto the bed and grin. The mattress and blanket are so comfortable I can hardly cope.

“I’ll be right out in the hall,” Ross states calmly after clearing his throat. “Keep the curtains drawn and just yell if you need me.”

“Did Elijah say when he was coming home?” I ask as he pulls the door open.

“He didn’t.”

“It’s okay, I’ll call him.” I spy a phone on the table by the bed and almost laugh at how movie-like this seems. “Thank you.”

The door closes and I drag my phone from my pocket.

“How fucking intense,” I say the second he answers.

“I’ll be there soon,” Elijah says, though his voice sounds distant so I know I’m on loudspeaker which means he’s driving. I hate it when he talks and drives. “Not to add any extra stress to your situation, but my mother is coming into town tomorrow and she insists we do lunch.”

“Oh, that’s fine. I’ll busy myself somehow…”

“No,” he interrupts. “My sister told her so she’s insisting that
we all
do lunch.”

Shit.
“You don’t seem upset by this?”

“I’m not. You’ll like my mother; she’s a good person.”

“I’m sure she’ll just love me…”

I hear the smile in his voice when he responds, “What’s not to love?”

“The fact I’m a whore?”

“So what does that make me?”

He plays a good play. “Fair enough. I have nothing to wear.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Fine, now get off the phone and come home safely.”

“Is the hotel to your liking?”

Sigh. “Elijah…”

“I’m hanging up now.” He chuckles and does so, but not before telling me to relax and that he loves me.

Relax is such an easy word to say during such stressful times. My instincts are frazzled; they’re warning me that all is not well. I’m becoming paranoid in my old age.

Despite the excitement of the night before, Elijah managed to help me sleep quite easily. I feel as though he’s distracting me from something and I don’t just mean the fact one of our windows was shattered by a sharp edged brick. According to CCTV it was in fact one of the kids across the street showing off to his friends. Or so Elijah says, though I doubt he has a reason to lie. The timing just seems entirely coincidental. If it was Max, he would have made it known by now, or perhaps I’m underestimating my husband. And if that is the case then it makes no sense as to why Elijah would hide that

“After we’ve been to lunch with my mother, I’m taking you to my divorce solicitor. We’re going to put things in motion for you as they are for me,” Elijah announces as we walk towards his car. I notice Ross standing by the driver’s side door and wait as Elijah opens the door for me to climb inside, despite the fact that Ross looked about to do the same. “The sooner we get the message across to Max, the better.”

“That should be fun,” I mutter and his hand squeezes my thigh. “Any news on the broken window?”

He shakes his head. “I’m sure Ross will update us when necessary.”

I turn towards the window as Elijah answers his phone. I wonder when he’ll be forced to return to work. I know that he has a lot to do, but lately he’s been spending so much time with me. I wonder if he has other people to run his businesses in his absence. I don’t know how it works. I’ve spoken to him about it all but I don’t really understand it. How little I know about the man I’m bedding.

My nerves skyrocket the closer we get to the restaurant. I’m about to meet Elijah’s mother. This is huge.

“Your hand is shaking.” Elijah grips it tightly in his as the buildings blur past the windows. “My mum is great, don’t worry. She’ll love you.”

“Like your sister did?”

He winces and inhales through his teeth. “You win some you lose some?”

“Did I happen to mention that your sister wanted to get her hands on that brooch that you purchased at the auction?”

He blinks. I’m assuming I didn’t tell him. “She did?”

“She didn’t tell you?”

“We’ve not spoken since then.”

My heads nods in understanding. “Why does she want it?”

“She doesn’t.”

Now I’m confused. “Are… are you going to elaborate?”

“She just wanted to gauge your reaction.”

Now I’m extremely confused. “Why?”

“It’s complicated. We’re here. I’ll tell you later.” He brings my hand to his lips and eyes the restaurant as though it’s about to burst into flames. His reaction isn’t exactly reassuring me that all will be well.

The cold air nips at my skin but I can’t allow the briskness to take credit for the fact my arms are so tightly wound around my body that my elbows ache.

Elijah gently holds my elbow as Ross pushes open the heavy glass entrance door. A well-groomed male in a white shirt tucked into black pants greets us immediately. I smile politely as Elijah asks for his mother and my smile becomes nervous as we’re led through a grand room, full of peach clothed tables with fancy bronze centrepieces.

“So this is the mistress your sister was raving about?” I’m surprised at the volume of the voice in such an intimate space. Sure, the place is basically empty but that’s not the point. “She’s a lot prettier than I expected.”

A curvaceous, short woman who I just was not expecting steps into my line of sight. I immediately see Elijah in her features. Her nose, chin and thick hair all belong to him. Her ears too.

When she hugs me, I tighten, unsure what to expect, though she either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.

“Call me Car.” She beams and leans back. Her eyes cut to her son who has to bend almost in half to reach her for a hug. “It’s short for Caroline.”

My mouth opens but no sounds come out. I don’t know what to respond and before I even get the chance to, she is already speaking again.

“Why don’t you see me as often as you see your bloody sister?” Her hand flashes and whacks Elijah’s shoulder as he pulls a seat out for her. His eyes roll and he gives me an apologetic smile before she takes it.

Ross does the same for me and swiftly takes a spot nearby to protect us from whatever it is he needs to protect us from.

“I took the liberty of ordering for us. I pray you’re not vegan or some other nonsense.” Caroline waves her napkin at me as though fanning such ‘nonsense’ away.

“She’s not.” Elijah’s hand closes over mine as though he can sense my nerves and he gives it a squeeze. “How have you been, Mother?”

“Peachy.” She grins enthusiastically. “Though you’d know that if you called me more.”

“For goodness sake,” he mutters under his breath.

“Hopefully this one isn’t like Penelope and will encourage you to call me.”

“Mother.”

“I’m serious. That foul woman did nothing but keep you from me.”

Elijah closes his eyes for a moment, seeking strength. “Can we refrain from discussing my ex-wife? Especially in the presence of…”

“Your future wife?” She leans into me. “Have you honestly defiled my son with no intention of putting a ring on his finger?”

This has me laughing and she smiles, triumphant at my reaction.

“Don’t encourage her,” Elijah hisses, though his own lips twitch with amusement no matter how hard he tries to hide it.

Plates full of delicious looking finger sized sandwiches and pastries are placed before us. Tea and scones soon follow, as well as a platter full of meats, cheeses and olives. I wait for Elijah to take a piece before I help myself to anything. I’ve never felt so awkward.

“So, tell me about yourself,” Caroline says to me as she lowers her cup of tea to the table.

I stir sugar into mine. “There’s little to tell.”

“I doubt that. My son wouldn’t be attracted to a dim-witted individual with no personality. Would you?”

Elijah closes his eyes again.

“What do you do?”

“Nothing,” I admit honestly and her smile falls. “Though I’m trying to change that.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” Elijah whispers and I dare not look at him, scared to see shame in his eyes.

“Change it how? Are you out of work? What did you study?”

“
Mother
.”

I shrug. “I guess I haven’t really thought about it.”

“Well, start immediately. You aren’t getting any younger and, as fun as it is to be a lady of leisure, when my son tires of you…”