Bound by Consent (11 page)

The arrival of the Taittinger Nocturne along with a dish of nibbles proved a welcome distraction from my thoughts. The server opened the champagne with deft movements and poured two glasses then left us the bottle in a wine chiller.

“Have you brought me here for a purpose?” Bryana regarded me suspiciously over the rim of her glass.

“Not really.” I evaded the question, wanting to bide my time until a right moment presented itself – if there ever was a right moment to spring something like the note onto her. The tension had eased slightly with the advent of the wine, making me loath to introduce another inflammatory topic. “I just thought we deserved a little quiet time to wind down the busy day. How was your dinner?”

“Nice… Different.” Bryana seemed happy to talk trivialities. “First we had a tray of mixed canapé, all sorts of delicious little savories, beautifully presented on a bed of banana leaves, followed by a tagine of lamb with a couscous salad and lemon mousse. How about you? Did you eat?” She sipped her wine appearing at ease.

“Steak and a large chocolate dessert.”

“That figures.” Bryana gave me a quizzical glance. “How you keep your figure I’ll never know.”

“Mostly with hard work.” I grinned. “Keeping the estate running smoothly, and exercising the horses. Remember Tavish?”

“Only too well.” Bryana shuddered and pulled a face. “Not one of my favorite memories.”

“Tavish would be hurt to hear you say that.” I shook my head in dismay. “He really enjoyed the experience. Although, he suggested that next time you might wear something more suitable.”

“There isn’t going to be a next time, not in this life.”

“Oh dear, that’s such a shame.” I couldn’t resist baiting her some more. “Especially after I sort of promised Tavish you’d come by and ride him again.”

“In your dreams.”

That’s my problem in a nutshell. I can’t stop dreaming about what we could have if Bryana... No, I mustn’t go there yet. Enough that we have today, tonight, I can’t look any further until we lay to rest the ghosts of the past.

“I’ll tell him that you can’t wait to come and see him.”

“You’d do that to the poor animal?” Bryana grinned, playing along with my teasing.

“No.” I reassured her. “Tavish is very special to me. I wouldn’t want to hurt his feelings like that.”

“Good.” Bryana picked up a handful of rice crackers and nibbled on them.

Now she had relaxed a little more this seemed the ideal moment to raise the subject of the note. I hated to risk changing the mood or creating more problems for our fragile relationship but I had to warn Bryana. I couldn’t take the chance of Esmée carrying out her threat and maybe doing something really dangerous, something neither of us were prepared for or could anticipate.

I took a deep breath. “Um… After dinner I went back to the hotel and found this pushed under our door.” I fished the sheet of paper out of my pocket and passed it across the table.

“What?” Bryana unfolded the note, and scanned the writing for far longer than it would have taken her to read a couple of hundred lines before she raised her head her gaze troubled. “How did she know?”

I didn’t need to ask who
she
was. “I imagine she guessed, or put two and two together based on your previous visits here.”

“Yes, I suppose so. I am rather predictable.” Bryana sighed. “Esmée would have known exactly where to find me. No wonder you made such a fuss about meeting me and you didn’t say a word even when I gave you a hard time.”

“There wasn’t any point in making things a whole lot worse than they already were. You needed to come to terms with me hanging around like a guard dog.”

Bryana nodded. “You have a point. I’ll have to think about changing my routine in the future. From now, on wherever I go, I’ll choose a different hotel to the one I’ve always favored and maybe even vary the airline I use to travel as well.”

“Or you could let me take care of you… permanently.” Again the words escaped my mouth before my thought process came to the rescue.

Shit! It was too soon to ask Bryana for that sort of commitment.

Even though in my own mind I was certain of my feelings, there were a number of stumbling blocks to overcome before...

“What are you saying?” Bryana gave me an incredulous look. “Are you asking me to...? No…” She shook her head.

I couldn’t help but laugh at the look of horror on her face. “It’s not such a bad idea. Think about it. We are good together in so many ways.”

“No!”

“Why not?” To give myself something to do I topped up our glasses with the remaining champagne. My hand shook. The enormity of losing Bryana stared me in the face.

“Because…” Bryana ground to a halt and stared into her wine like it was the center of her universe.

“Bryana, honey, look at me.” I waited while her head slowly lifted and her gaze met mine. “Do you trust me?”

She frowned. “I suppose I do...”

It was a heart stopping moment. She didn’t sound very sure. I rested my hand on hers.

“Oh, honey,” I held her gaze. “I know you’re scared, but you have no reason to fear me. I won’t let you down, ever, and we have a lot of talking still to do before anything else happens.”

Bryana’s lips parted, and her eyes widened questioningly, but she didn’t speak. Maybe she didn’t know what to say, or how to frame the questions uppermost in her mind. If that was the case I would need to fill in the blanks and help her make some sense of the situation.

“This isn’t a five minute fix, we have a long way to go, we’d hardly scratched the surface before Esmée stepped in and ruined everything. Right now our main priority must be to rebuild what we already had, only then can we begin to move forward one step at a time. Please be assured, I will never ask for more than you can or want to give. We can move at your pace and stop any time you feel uncomfortable.”

“You make it sound so easy...”

Optimist that I am, I read the shake of Bryana’s head as uncertainty rather that outright rejection. “It will be.” My tone was deliberately positive to counter any negativity on her part. “I know you’ll come up with all sorts of arguments against a permanent relationship, like your career and our places of residence but these are things that can be overcome with a little thought. You have to remember Scotland isn’t at the end of the world, London is only a couple of hours away by air.” I didn’t dare let on that getting to the airport was a marathon that often took far longer than the flight itself. “You can also fly direct to just about anywhere in the world from Scotland. Also, I’m totally flexible these days, I can’t see any obstacle that would prevent us from dividing our time between the two places as your job dictates.”

Bryana took a sip of champagne before responding. “You really think we stand a chance of making this work?”

“Yes.” I nodded emphatically. “We have nothing to lose by trying. And, with me around to keep an eye on you, Esmée and Marisa had better watch their step.”

“That sounds good to me.” Bryana smiled. “I would hate to get on the wrong side of you. You scared the hell out of me, a few times, in the beginning.”

“I scared you?” Shit! No wonder Bryana had wanted to keep me at arm’s length. I couldn’t believe she hadn’t said something before. “When? How?”

“When you turned up on my doorstep throwing your weight around as if you owned me. Then later... later you made me feel like a slut, a whore, who deserved no better than to be used.

“I am so sorry, honey.” This was a terrible indictment. “I never meant for you to feel that way. Misconceptions on both sides led to a few issues, for sure, but we’ve got those sorted now. We can start over, as of tonight. No baggage. No past. A clean slate. Do you agree?”

“Yes.” Bryana reached for my hand. “Then tomorrow you can ride shotgun while I work.”

“Done!” I raised her fingers to my lips to seal the bargain. “Damn! I want to kiss you properly. Shall we go back to the hotel?”

“Yes, please, I’d like that.”

Full Circle

~

Bryana

Can Cassie keep Bryana safe and provide the discipline she needs?

T
he decorated façade of Amsterdam’s Rijks Museum provided a perfect backdrop for Célestin Reynaud’s collection of day wear. The wide concourse offered ample space for the models to parade in groups, and singly, or occasionally stop to strike a pose in one of the three arches that formed the imposing entrance. Célestin had been lucky to get permission to use an area that would normally be thronged with tourists at this time of the day, but with the main museum closed for renovations visitors were directed to a different entrance around the corner in the annex.

“That’s very good, Alexis.” I nodded encouragement to the final model in the set. “Just a shade more of that sexy hip movement, please. Perfect!” The motorized shutter whirred almost continuously as I fired off dozens of shots in rapid succession, moving around as I did so to capture the elegant suit from as many different angles as possible. “Okay that’ll do for now, Alexis. Thanks everyone. Just the final group shots then we’re done.” The models dispersed quickly, rushing toward the converted RV that served as a mobile dressing room when Célestin was on location for a quick check on hair and makeup.

There was a round of applause from the watching crowd. While changing cameras I took the opportunity to glance behind me. A number of people had gathered behind a taped cordon to watch the fashion shoot but I was only interested in one person.

My gaze homed in on Cassie Stuart. My lover, the woman who kept me sane, satisfied, and safe. Unmistakable in her usual attire of a plaid shirt worn over a white vest, jeans, and ankle boots. Too damned sexy for words. Heat sizzled through my body. She’d had an effect on me from day one. However, it’d taken me quite a while and much soul searching to accept that Cassie had held my heart hostage ever since she rescued me from a cold, wet, and very miserable night on a bleak Scottish mountain. The events of the past few days, since our arrival in Amsterdam, had finally confirmed her place in my life. Although it had been touch and go for a while as circumstances tested our relationship to breaking point.

Cassie leaned casually against a tree a few yards away from the main group of spectators. She appeared outwardly relaxed and disinterested in anything other than the fashion show, but I knew that was a front. Behind those dark glasses her eyes would be busily scanning the crowd for danger. In particular for a glimpse of Esmée Vincent, my ex, who still posed a considerable threat to me eight months after the end of our turbulent relationship. Esmée was here, in Amsterdam – at least I assumed she was. Somebody had delivered the note containing her latest threat to my hotel room on Monday night. Although Marisa, her lover, had a role in the catalog shoot I doubted she was responsible. Esmée’s insidious presence dominated our lives and impinged on everything we did. It was now Thursday, the last day of the shoot, and Esmée’s continued absence from the scene was giving me the jitters. Not that I wanted any contact with her, but the lack of some tangible sighting was singularly unnerving.

With one final, lingering glance at Cassie I picked up the two cameras I planned to use for this session hung one around my neck and turned back to work. Impatient to begin, I fired off a few shots as the models emerged spasmodically from the RV and assembled according to the plan set out for the finale. Another hour at the most and I’d be free to spend some quality time with my love.

Cassie had promised me a special treat to celebrate the rebirth of our relationship. After several false starts we both hoped this new beginning would mature naturally into the permanence we both desired. In this instance I had no idea what she meant by special since I considered all the time we spent together special. Clearly though, Cassie had her own ideas and as she was being somewhat secretive about the arrangements, I would have to wait until later to find out what they were.

Meanwhile, I concentrated on getting the best from the disparate group of models. “Wonderful, ladies.” With a sweep of my hand I directed them to move and reform, as per the rehearsal plan. To my amazement the choreography worked. The group flowed en masse, creating a seamlessly evolving pattern like a flock of birds in the sky. I followed every movement with the cameras, sometimes closing in and other times drawing back.

Finally this part was done. The next stage, the selection of the best shots for the catalog would take time and close study by myself in conjunction with the production team.

“Perfect!” Célestin stepped out of the RV to congratulate the whole team. “Thank you all for working so hard this week.”

There was a burst of applause followed by a mass exodus. The models rushed to change into street clothes before they drifted away alone or in groups, then hair and make-up left, too. Wardrobe always took much longer to pack up as did I.

Célestin appeared at my side when I had almost finished fitting my cameras into their traveling bag. “A word, Bryana.” She linked arms with me, then led me out of the RV and a short distance away from any listeners before she spoke.

“You and Cassie have sorted out your differences?” Very neatly she’d turned the statement into a question.

“Yes, I think we have...” I flicked a glance to where my lover waited. “How did you know?”