Red Collar (17 page)

She
laid her head back, her mind sweeping over their torrid, steamy night. And then this morning, he had held her again in his arms, taking her like no man had ever possessed her. For a fleeting moment, she remembered caressing his lips with her own.

Her
fingers flew up to her lips, tracing them, wondering if she had really been so close to kissing him or had she imagined it. She wished
he
had for she would never have the power to do the deed herself. It would only reveal her love for him and leave her vulnerable in the open. Her love would never be reciprocated from a man such as Clayton. She couldn’t risk letting him know. It would simply make it harder for her to walk away when the time came.

Kate had a quick shower and then pulled on a soft, white dress she had seen in her bag. Whoever had been responsible for choosing her ensembles had done an incredible job. The dress flowed about her freely, loose and yet accentuating her curves. She stood to admire it before the mirror.

She glanced at her watch. It was almost nine o’clock. It didn’t seem that Clayton would
be coming to escort her to breakfast anytime soon. It annoyed her slightly that he didn’t take the initiative to introduce her properly.

She picked up courage and stepped into the hallway.
She heard the chatter of loud, happy voices. It appeared more guests had arrived while she had been sleeping.

She stalled momentarily, unsure if she should interrupt them.
Her eyes brimmed with tears on hearing their cheery stories as they laughed one off with another, teasing each other. God sure was unjust when he blessed the wealthy with happiness and beautiful families while she suffered a desolate and bleak future with her poor one.

She turned around to walk away. She didn’t belong with them.

“Kate?” said Grandma Connie. “Where are you going? Come and join us. Have you had breakfast?”

Kate swallowed a nervous pocket of air, trying to stave off the tears in her eyes.

“I was just…,” she started and then realized she was clearly sounding out an excuse. “Thanks, Grandma.”

Grandma Connie held onto her elbow and escorted her into the kitchen.

“You don’t need to be shy, hon. This is after all going to be your family soon.”

Kate gave her a small smile. She was panged with guilt and she hated Clayton to allow such a mean charade to continue.

At the island bench of the open, luxurious kitchen, sat a young blonde woman. Two little boys skipped around at her feet and when she s
miled at her, her face brightened, turning up the corners of her amber eyes.

“Hi,” she said, cheerfully. “You’ve got to be Kate.” And she
rose from her chair to give her a hug.

“Hello,” Kate said, as she was drawn into her arms. She smelt deliciously beautiful and her shoulder-length hair was soft and bouncy, much to Kate’s envy. She was feminine in every way except for her jaw
-line, which remarkably was too similar to Clayton’s.

“I’m Leah,” she said. “Clayton’s sister. Mom told me about the engagement. Congratulations. I’m so happy for both you and Clayton.”

Kate gulped nervously, her heart clenching from the rising nausea in her chest. She wanted to run away. Away from the guilt of deceiving people who were beginning to grow on her, who were forcefully emanating affectionate warmth inside her despite her desperate attempts to stifle it. People she hardly knew and yet she was becoming more obsessed with thoughts of their reactions if and when they discovered the truth about her and her relationship with Clayton.

How would she ever explain herself to them? She didn’t want to know them so she wouldn’t have to care. She didn’t want to be bothered of what
they would think of her, or how much they would detest her once the lies were revealed.

Suddenly, the room began to close in on her and she began to sweat profusely. This was Sitka, where temperatures remained moderately cool, she reminded herself.

She wiped the beads of sweat forming on her temples. She only just had her shower. She didn’t want to be sweating when there was no need to. She tried to meditate on the health of her mother and her reasons for putting up with such a wretched farce.

Her eyes darted unconsciously towards the door in the hopes of an escape.
But where would she go? She was stuck on an island in the middle of the Alaskan Panhandle.

“Kate, are you alright?” asked Leah, concernedly. “You look awfully pale.”

Kate blinked her eyes, trying to focus on Leah. Her heart beat faster, her consciousness pleading with her to tell them the truth. That she was no shorter than a prostitute; an escort hired to serve Clayton’s sexual whims.

She clutched
a tight fist and gave Leah a nervous smile.

“I’m fine,” she said at last, shaking
her head. “It must be the long trip that’s taking an effect on me. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, don’
t be.” Leah rubbed her arms fondly. “Of course, I should have known. Even having travelled so many times from France to Sitka, I still reel from the after-effects of the long journey.”

“And she hasn’t had breakfast either,” chirped in Olivia, Clayton
’s mother. “What would you like? Coffee, tea or juice, honey?”

“Coffee, thanks Mrs. Reid.”

“Oh, call me Olivia,” the older woman replied, speaking rapidly as she poured out a cup of hot coffee. “It’s such a mouthful particularly in this day and age. And I’m yet to be prude enough to be formally addressed as Mrs. Reid.”

She placed the coffee before Kate. “Don’t be s
hy, darling. If you need anything else, you are welcome to rummage through my pantry and cupboards for breakfast. Help yourself to anything you want.”

Having said that, she t
urned around and began thinly slicing an apple. “I’m making Polish apple pancakes for Clayton. Gave me his breakfast menu before going off on his morning run. You weren’t looking for him, were you?”

It was then that Kate noticed the absence of housekeepers and a
cook in the kitchen. There was just the Reid women gathered around the large island bench in an expensive kitchen.

Grandma Connie had risen to l
ook into the oven. A beautiful sweet aroma had filled the air, giving her inkling and a sudden urge to have some cake.

Pulling open the oven door, Grandma revealed the culprit in her small, gloved hands.

“There,” the old woman smiled. “Perfect.”

“You should freeze it for tea, Mother,” said Olivia.

Grandma scowled. “Most definitely not. It’s for my Clayton,” and then added “And my two little chimps here.” She laughed as Leah’s two boys hugged her knees to remind her of their presence. “Yes, yes, I will start glazing it now.”

“It smells delicious,” Kate glanced over at the bundt cake. “I don’t think I’ve ever had one before.”

“Then you’ll love it,” smiled Leah. “Especially Grandma’s. She makes the best blackberry-cream cheese coffee cake.”

“It’s a family recipe,” added in Grandma. “My grandmother passed it on to m
y mother, my mother to me and I to Olivia and Leah. And now that you’re going to be part of the family, you’re going to have to learn it too.”

Kate froze. She didn’t want to feel guilty. S
he didn’t need to. It wasn’t she who plotted this contemptible deception. If there was anyone who should feel guilty, it should be Clayton. This was his charade, his family. This had nothing to do with her. She was here because she was hired to play a part and she needed to finish the role with finesse and go back to where she belonged. In the slums of New York. To her family, to her dying mother.

“What’s wrong, Kate?” asked Grandma, leaning towards her.

Kate lifted her head, weakened by her burdening thoughts. “I, I…,” she stammered.

“You don’t like to cook?”
asked Grandma. “That’s alright, my dear. You don’t have to. I merely said it because you would soon be marrying my Clayton and I thought you would like it if I passed on to you some of the family traditions. Make you feel a part of the family.” She reached out and patted her hand to comfort her.

“Grandma,”
Kate said, worried now of the impact of her reactions on the aging matriarch. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Of course I love to cook. I have been doing it all my life. It’s just that you said it was a family recipe, a family tradition, and Clayton and I aren’t exactly married yet.”

She bit her lip. The frowned looks on the other women in the room, told her she was making a bigger mess of things.

“What I mean,” she tried explaining. “You might want to hold off on passing the baton when you know for sure you’ve got the right Mrs Clayton Reid in the bag.” She ended with a lighter note hoping that they would buy into her joke but instead they looked at her rather awkwardly.

“Did you have a fight with Clayton, dear?” asked Olivia. “Couples have them all the time. That doesn’t mean you’re going to split or divorce because you do. I think it’s good that couples have an argument or s
o. It makes them work harder at their relationship.”

“Who’s splitting up?” said a male, heavy voice.

The women turned to the kitchen door leading to the veranda. It was Clayton.

“No one is,” said Grandma.

“Kate thinks that she might not make it to her wedding day. Can we ask why?” butted in Leah.

“Leah,” growled the other two women in unison.

“Really?” Clayton raised an eyebrow.

“No,” said Olivia, firmly, giving Leah a warning eye. “Kate was merely making a
general conjecture of what things might be if people don’t invest in their relationships.”

“Is that so?” he said, wiping the sweat off his neck with a small towel.

Kate swallowed, trying to avert her eyes. His open jacket and the sleeveless shirt which he wore under it, only made his physique more alluring. He wasn’t overtly bulky like weight-lifting body builders, but slim and firmly defined in all the right places.

“Whatever,” Leah continued, stubbornly. “Kate is insecure about getting married and I bet you have something to do with it.”

Clayton looked at Kate over his eyebrows.

She shifted nervously on her chair, trying to focus on her cup of coffee. She didn’t need to see him to know that he was drawing closer.

He leant towards Leah and kissed her head. “I love you sis, but it’s time you learnt that that’s none of your business. I’m sure what’s Kate’s feeling is nothing different from what every other girl feels before taking the plunge. After all, it is a big step for anyone to give up their freedom and commit to this one relationship which everyone expects to last a lifetime. Isn’t it, darling?” He leant and kissed her on the cheek.

It was a gesture that seemed to have a remarkably positive effect on the rest of the women. They were smiling, content
now by Clayton’s words.

The color drained from Kate’s face, her palm clenched her cup tightly.
Her heart ached from his lies. She wanted it to be real. But it wasn’t and she longed even more to run away and hide herself in a place where Clayton could never find her.

She closed her eyes as she felt his hands on her shoulders, caressing it.
Despite her anger for him, he evoked in her warm feelings she couldn’t resist. Why did she react so much to him? A mere touch, a distant glance was all she needed to moist her core, desiring to be held and taken by him.

Perhaps
, she hadn’t had a man in a long while. It was the only sane reason for her irascible reactions. The last man was Alan and even then she rarely had sex with him. And when she did, it wasn’t pleasurable or desirous as it was with Clayton. In fact, she knew nothing of her hidden orgasms until she met Clayton. 

She bit her lip. She was comparing again. Clayton was nothing like Alan in bed.
He was in fact the best she ever had. But outside of it, they were both the same. They had used her for their own needs.

She willed herself to be sensible, trying to ignore the growing wetness in her core
as she felt his arms drape over her shoulders fondly.

“Go and wash up,” said Grandma.
“Kate needs a proper breakfast. The poor child’s losing color again. That long travel really has had a nasty effect on her.”

Clayton lifted up her chin, frowning as he studied her. “You okay, baby?”

“I’m fine,” she replied curtly, trying to move his hand from her face but instead he caught her fingers, clenching her palm. 

“Well, if you say so,” he shrugged. “Then you can probably wait until I’ve showered so we can have breakfast together.”

He moved swiftly towards the door leading into the hallway, dragging Kate with him.

“Clayton, where are you taking her?” called out his mother.

“Mother, you shouldn’t be asking questions you don’t want to know the answers to.”

Kate flushed. She had never been more embarrassed in her life.