Pearl on Cherry (29 page)

Why were they arguing over this?

She set her hand on William and whispered, “This is stalling and sticking us in the mire. Let’s depart. I’ll discuss this later.”

William nodded, kept his glaring eyes on Tyrone and helped her down the steps.

“No one will hire her if you get in the way, William,” Tyrone called out.

“If they’re blind to true talent, then that’s their loss.” He yanked her behind him, but she turned at the last moment.

“Thank you, Mr. Power, for this opportunity. I’m sure you understand what loss feels like. William and I have felt it maybe more than most, so our caution is our strength, not our weakness. I hope you can keep an open mind and consider the appeal and draw I might bring to this hall. Since the strikes, all the halls have been floundering. This could be a new opportunity to have a real singer on the stage, rather than a mock starlet, mimicking what a voice should be.” She curtsied.

“Come, Cherry. We leave.” William’s tone was curt.

She stood tall, gave Tyrone a parting, assertive glance, then left with a very terse, business-like William.

“The nerve of that man—touching what’s mine! That would have gone worse than south if I had not been there to protect you!”

“What is the matter? Truly?” She sighed.

He helped her into the motorcar. “That was a mockery of you—a trick to seduce you. Where was the director? Where was the script?”

“I already had the script and memorized my few lines,” she answered.

His grip on the wheel tightened, but they sat motionless. He wasn’t starting the vehicle or taking them home.

“He told me it would be only he and I and a few stagehands, so I was aware of how it would be.”

“And you accepted? Fuck! Clarissa—you are too naive! See why I must be there with you? He will take advantage.”

She chuckled.

“This is humorous to you?” he asked through his gritted teeth.

“No, but
you
are. He is the director of this play, so the essentials were in place. No one else was around because the music hall was shutting down for a few days for minor refurbishments and deep cleanings, or have you forgotten? He did me a favor by allowing me to come today. I asked this of him because I was hoping it would be quicker to be in and out of there without a lot of people to contend with. I wanted to get back to you quickly so we could perhaps spend the day together. Or so I could at least be at your beck and call. Isn’t that what you want?” She blinked a few times as he sat there stoic, holding his breath. “For my availability? I know it’s what I so desire. Did you listen to the words of my song? That was us. It was what you do to me—what you mean to me.”

He dropped his head, ground his teeth together and when he finally looked at her, his eyes welled up.

“I love you—more than any man can ever love a woman. That man makes me crazy, because he dazzles women. And with you aiming for the stage, he is something you probably think worth knowing. But he’s a monster. I was, too, so I know what he is.” He gripped her hand and put it over his heart. “No one wants me—that’s the truth. No one could bear to be near me, not really. I cannot lose you. I need you to be with me and to know you always will be.” He pulled her hand up to his lips and kissed her ring. “This is all I know anymore.”

“Oh, sweetheart . . .” Her eyes softened right along with her heart. “I feel the same way. But Tyrone was right in one respect—you are an important man. You have things to attend to. You cannot possibly be here with me at all times if I am in rehearsals. There will be others around. Have I given you a reason to distrust me?”

“You run from me. That is what you do. What if I cannot find you when you hide away for good? What if he takes you away?”

She leaned in and placed her cheek on his heart. “Inside this brutal act is a scared little boy. Who has hurt you so badly? Who has rejected you? You know why I run, why I hide and why I want to be someone else on the stage. What is your story?”

He shook his head and held her head to his chest. “No—I cannot speak of it. Don’t ask me to.”

“Then you are the one hiding again.”

His fingers ran through her hair. “I am, but I have good reason. Please . . . Cherry, let us just be in peace. Let me manage all this. Let me protect you from the demons that flock around you.”

She took a deep breath and lifted her head, staring at him while keeping her cheek on his breast. “I will allow you to hide for now, but if you are to be my husband, then I don’t want this deep secret creating a gulf between us. The small things you can keep from me, but not this. If I am to let you in all the way, I must know what’s been barring me thus far.”

“Time.”

“Yes, I will give time, but if you are to ever trust me not to leave you, it means you have to share this.”

He nodded, and tears dripped down on her face.

“Please, Cherry, just love me.”

“I do.” She reached up and cupped his cheek. He leaned into it and closed his eyes.

The next thing she knew, he was caving in on her, weeping silently, and she was the one protecting him from prying eyes.

She pulled his head down into her lap and she stroked and held him as he cried.

Someone had broken this man at one time worse than she could’ve ever imagined.

And now her heart was shattered for him, too.

“Oh, Will. You mean everything to me, and I’ll never leave you. Never.”

Chapter 16

William ended his phone call with Tyrone. It was insufferable in so many ways.

When he went in search of Clarissa, she was in the kitchen as usual, helping the cook with her chores.

How many times had he taken her away from Pauline, Elizabeth and even from Mrs. Garrity as she all but did their tasks for them?

The woman liked to work her fingers until they gave out with all the scrubbing she did.

He steered her out through the kitchen without a word by grasping the back of her arm.

Several times she glanced at him over her shoulder, her eyes wide with fright.

“I’m sorry—I can’t keep from helping them,” she said as they passed through the door into his office.

“We’ll discuss that later.” He frowned.

“I know you say your money is here for my use so I don’t have to labor this hard, but I . . .”

He sighed with a frustrated grunt at the end and dragged his hands down his cheeks and jaw. “Tyrone called, and I spoke with him. Scala Theater is not good enough for you.” He paced, cocking his head at her.

“It’s one of the biggest,” Clarissa replied. “Stop fuming about this. Be happy for me, please.”

She tugged him over to his office chair, sat him down and then took her place on his lap.

How did she know exactly what he needed? He snuggled into her and hummed.

His shoulders relaxed, his constricting chest loosened and her warm, inviting scent enveloped him.

“Two days, though? He insults us by waiting so long to give you the call back.” He shook his head and licked his lips.

“It’s not criticism, silly man. He’s being a shrewd businessman. Most call backs take weeks. If anything, he expedited it so you would not come after him with your fists.” She turned around, straddled him, spread her skirts out and then wrapped herself around him.

The heat of her, the sound of her breath and feel of her pulse settled him like it always did.

“What is this power you have over me, darling girl?
Hmm
. . . ?” He stroked her hair and wanted to scream that she was his so Tyrone and everyone else would stop coming after this treasure he’d found.

“Only the power of two souls united—because you do the same to me.” She sighed. “Now, we have his party to attend tonight. It’s for the entire cast, and I am to be there.” She sat up and blinked at him with an open, trusting expression.

“Yes, yes—how can I forget?” He groaned.

Her chest lifted, drawing his eyes to her breasts.

“But first . . .” He reached around her, unlaced at her back, releasing her from her dress.

“Is there time for this? Mustn’t we be getting ready?”

“There is plenty of time. No more discord. Only pleasure . . .” His body hummed with a different type of energy—a type that was slightly vicious, very erotic and heady, making his head buzz.

When he had her in her brassiere and panties, he set her on his desk.

The door was closed, but once more, unlocked.

“I have a message for you, dearest,” he lilted. He spread her out on his desk, and she smiled, her chest flushing.

He pulled out his double-sided, monogrammed wax seal with his initials W. F. on it.

His jaw pulled tight as he smiled widely. “My package to open.”

He poured some ink into his palm, pressed the seal into the ink and then stamped her navel with it.

“Mine—oh yes, you are mine—all mine.” He bent down and kissed next to it, then blew across the ink on her belly.

Her abdomen rippled with her laugh.

“Pull your cups down. I want to see those gorgeous breasts,” he told her.

She did it and then set her hands on the desk. He edged closer to her, and sat on the edge of the furniture, then dipped the wax seal back into the ink waiting in his palm.

He stamped one breast, then the other, and this mischievous smirk took over his entire body.

“Beautiful—absolutely stunning with a more indelible mark on you. This will take days to wash away.” God, that felt perfect, knowing she would wear him on her skin in some way. Not that Tyrone would ever see it, but the idea it was hidden away like a secret crest over her heart, a shield of his to protect her, made him growl deep in the back of his throat. “Fuck! It’s perfect.”

His cock tightened when her fingers lifted and roamed delicately over the marks he’d put on her.

He yanked out his hankie, wiped his hand dry and set the wax seal on the desk after wiping it dry as well.

“Lie still,” he said a moment later as he pulled his cock out and then climbed up on the desk.

She was at his mercy, beneath him, eyes wide and breaths ripping out of her with utter excitement.

He pumped himself, allowing his eyes to roam over every luscious inch of her. “This is how we get ready to attend his party. You will smell of me, and only me.”

Her breath hitched, and her fingers flexed on the desk.

He gripped both of her hips, then rubbed his erection all over the mark on her belly.

“Oh God—oh, Clarissa, you don’t know how good you look with my initials on you.” He rubbed a little harder and pressed his bodyweight into his hands.

When he removed his hands to stroke his cock once more, there were faint black hand prints left behind from him. “Oh Jesus! That’s . . . You will kill me now, wearing the proof of my touch, too.” He tossed his head back, moaned like he would expire and then her little hands were on him, yanking him furiously.

When he dropped his head to watch, she pushed herself up so her mouth was straining toward his cock.

He scooted forward and her lips brushed his tip each time she tugged on the upstroke.

His leaking head made her cry out. Did she want more? Did she want to taste him?

He wiggled his hips to run his head back and forth across her parted lips.

When she extended her tongue, licked off the creamy beginnings, she pulled the jets of milky come right out of him.

She tried to suck and got a little for her efforts, but as she licked it off her lips, he jerked back and made sure it squirted all over her neck and on her breasts.

He wanted to scent her where it would be most noticeable.

She dipped her fingers in it and licked it off.

“Christ—see why I worry? I cannot lose this—cannot lose you. This is why I can never get enough of you.” His cock twitched as the last of his fluids dribbled out.

He sighed, and so did she.

She wore a sated, finished look.

“You will reek of me,” he said with pride evident in his voice.

“When do I not? If it’s not from your manhood spilling on me, then it’s from your soap or cologne.” She beamed at him. “I would not have it any other way.”

He smeared his slippery come all over her chest, rubbed it in and enjoyed every second of it.

She was not the only one that enjoyed being this naughty.

He pulled the cups back up on her brassiere, climbed back off the desk and tucked his cock away.

She lay there, watching him patiently.

He helped her up, kissed, hugged and giggled with her. “We are so frightfully bad.”

“Yes, yes, and we both are probably in need of punishment. Think of how fun that shall be.”

“Oh.” She pepped up a little, her eyes zinging with a zest for it. “I like the sound of that.”

“My, my . . . What I have turned you into,” he mused.

“I think it was already there. You only found a way to bring it to the surface.” She motioned for her clothing.