Chapter 70: Chapter Seventy

Her cheeks flush. “Well, thank you, Richard. And I’ll be sure to send you a copy of my story before it goes any further.”

“Of course. And I’ll look forward to continuing our discussion at a later date.” He glances to her uncle… “Konrad… Good to see you.” Eyes creasing, he rises. “Elizabeth, that’s one of your favourite pieces playing. Would you like to dance?”

“I’d love to.”

My Master’s hand in the small of my back, we stroll to the dance floor as once more, he demonstrates his ventriloquist skills, his lips not moving. “So, was that about anything other than your own charitable gesture for the evening?”

We circle the floor and each other to soft music, hands at waists and shoulders. “We all need allies, Master. You and me both.”

“And you think an apprentice journalist is a useful ally?”

“You know what they say. Be nice to them when you’re on the way up. You might meet them again on the way down.”

He snorts a laugh, quickly suppressed. “You see. You’re already at the top of the Masterclass on how to play the game. Not that I ever doubted it.” His gaze wanders over my shoulder. “I’ll admit, it was worth giving the girl five minutes just to see the look on Schmidt’s face.”

I whack down the urge to peek for myself. “Which is…?”

“Perplexed…” Laughter rattles his chest, but doesn’t escape to his face “… Probably at being out-foxed by a member of the…” … He releases my shoulder to paint air commas… “… weaker sex… Schmidt’s a tiresome reactionary. I’ve refused him an interview, let alone an exclusive, for the last six months. And he’s notoriously inflexible about letting women climb any but the most minor rungs of the ladder.”

“Think he’ll publish her piece?”

“Let’s see what she produces. If it’s worthwhile, I’ll make sure he does.”

“And later?”

“This one is your ally. You tell me.”

*****

Back at our table, we sip at liqueurs, nibble at slivers of mint chocolate. “It’s late,” says my Master. “Time for us to say goodnight.”

Will rises. “Goodnight, Richard.” He stoops to kiss my cheek. “Good night, Beth. I’ll be in touch next week about the next stage of the project.”

Irene’s brow furrows…

I rise, returning the cheek kiss. “I’ll have something for you later in the week, Will. To first draft level, at least.”

… and her eyes narrow. She mutters furiously at her husband, who merely shrugs her away. And my Master hasn’t missed any of it. His gaze flicks this way and that; me, Irene, her husband; but he appears calm.

Grace too, takes me at the shoulder as we exchange kisses. “It was lovely to meet you, Beth. We should all get together for dinner sometime.”

“I’d like that.” But I’m already reaching for my Master’s proffered hand. “Good night, everyone.”

As we cross the floor to the elevator, although his expression is steady, his lips are pinched. The doors swish open, then close behind us.

His calm dissolves. “Elizabeth, I know you rose above a lot of that, but are you…?”

“I’m fine, Master. Don’t worry about me.” I reach for the basement button, but he eases my hand away, instead tapping for the top floor.

“Aren’t we going to the parking lot?”

He smiles, but only slightly. “No, my Love. We have a suite for the night. I thought it would be better than driving back so late. A surprise for you. I only decided at the last minute.”

“That sounds lovely, Master, but my clothes...”

“Already waiting for you upstairs. I packed them myself. I thought it would be a nice surprise for you.” For a man delivering a surprise, he’s subdued.

I make a mental scrabble, reaching for something to say. “I suppose we were lucky to get a suite if you only decided at the last minute.”

His smile returns, looking a bit more genuine this time. “Elizabeth, I own the hotel. We have a suite any time we want it.”

When will I get used to this…?

I hook my arm into his. Smile up to him. “Well, anyway, yes, it’s a lovely idea.”

He stares down at his feet. “My Love, I cannot apologise enough for this evening. You shouldn’t have had to…”

“Master, there’s nothing to apologise for. As I said, Irene surprised me. And that is all. I’m sure you didn’t plan she’d behave like that. And I’ll be ready for her on any other occasion.” I snort. “Your friend the mayor must have fun being married to her.”

He snorts in return. “Jack stays married to her for political expediency. He’s not willing to risk scandal. And you can be sure that if he even suggested he’s had enough, she’d dig up some kind of dirt to bring him back to heel.”

“Or… already has?”

He arches brows. Clucks. “Who knows?”

At penthouse level, the elevator jogs, settles and Dings! He gestures out. “After you, my Love.”

*****

The suite is sumptuous. The view spectacular. And I cannot help but smile.

Perhaps I will get used to this…

What I am not used to is my Master’s brooding. In the bedroom, he undresses in silence, tugging on a robe.

Running a quick inventory of the suite, I strip down to my underwear, sliding a negligee over the top. Green and gold silk, trimmed with lace. I know he loves that combination.

Picking a decanter at random, cut-glass glinting shards of light over the golden contents, I jiggle it at him. “Nightcap, Master?” Head-pointing the bed, “Let’s just enjoy being together for a while.”

His eyes crease and soften. “A very good idea. Brandy for me.”

The balloon, in matching crystal, sits comfortably in my palm as I swirl amber liquor, the aroma heady as it warms, the flavour deep and mellow. Beside me, my Master also swirls and sips. His breathing slows and steadies. “Elizabeth, I know you said you’re fine, but… Irene. You shouldn’t have had to…”

“Master, you do not owe excuses for her behaviour…”

He exhales. “I don’t, no. But then again, I do.” He scrapes fingers back through his hair. “I should have told you…”

“Grace filled in some of the blanks for me.” I smile, wiggling my brows to take the sting out of my words.

He looks down. Looks up. “Which blanks?”

“That Irene led you up the garden path while it suited her. Then slapped you down when it didn’t.”

His breathing grows harsh again, his face reddening. “Elizabeth…”

I set paired fingers over his lips. “Master, when you and I first met, when you offered me your contract, you told me that the reason you were doing it was because of predatory women. I met Adele. I know there have been others. Irene is just another of the type. If she treated you badly when you were too young to know how to deal with it, then you’re the lucky one. You’re out of it. You’re not married to her. She’s someone else’s problem. Not yours. Not mine. Your friend, Jack... Well, he’s a grown man. He has to live with her.”

He eases, my touch on his lips becoming his kiss to my fingers. He leans forward, resting his forehead against mine.

He leans back, mischief dancing a jig. “I still think I owe you more of an apology than you’ve had...”

… and he surges forward…

“We don’t need that...” Unceremoniously, he tugs at the negligee, tugging at bowed laces, stripping it back from my shoulders and off…

“… Or those…” With a snap, my bra is removed…

Then, dragging at my panties. “Naked is how you should be.”

“Yes, Master.”

Removing the last of my clothing, inside, I Whoop!

This is how it should be…

Grabbing me, almost manhandling me, he rolls me over, then shoves me to all fours. His voice rasps. “Knees apart.”

I barely need the instruction as his own knees push in, levering mine open, wedging my thighs apart.

A palm flat between my shoulders, he pushes me down, my face pressed sidelong against the mattress. But looping the other hand into my hair, he winds in tight, gripping in, arching my neck back.

“Ass up,” he growls. I lift my hips, arcing my spine. Abruptly, the tension on my scalp dissolves, my hair released. The pressure behind my shoulders vanishes, both replaced by a hand gripping me at either hip.

Angling my body, he pulls up and back on my pelvis, his shaft nuzzling behind me... The slight pressure of his cockhead rubs as he moors himself against my sensitising entrance. Something soft brushes my calves and feet. His robe perhaps.

Despite the heat of his body so close to mine, the skin of my thighs shivers and quivers. Inside, my muscles skip and dance then, as he nudges closer, ripple at my belly wall.

I exhale, long and slow as he opens me, edging inside, then withdrawing again…

“Breathe.” A single word. Raw… Harsh…

And utterly beguiling.