Compulsively Mr. Darcy (24 page)

“This is the Bennet's home, Miss Georgiana,” Colonel Brandon repeated from the driver's seat. The bodyguard abruptly stiffened in his seat and exited the car.

A teenage girl in a cheerleading outfit had bounced out of nowhere, executing perfect cartwheels as she headed in their direction.

Colonel Brandon put himself between the girl and the car.

“Hey, you're big. I bet you can lift up two girls on your shoulders easily, maybe more.” Unimpressed by his intimidating glare, the cartwheeler peered into the car. “I'm Lydia. You must be William's sister. He and Lizzy are out shopping for a car. They'll be here soon. Can you get out by yourself or does this muscle-man have to carry you out?”

Embarrassed, Georgiana exited the car and waved the bodyguard off.

Lizzy's sister grabbed Georgiana's hand. “Okay, I need to practice this cheer but I can't do it alone. I need a partner. Come on. I'll show you what to do.”

The younger girl's loud voice and commanding presence scared Georgiana into awkwardly copying her movements.

“It's boring.” Lydia's lips protruded when she finally stopped. “I want some voom in my routine, to stand out, but Lizzy won't let me put a pole dancing routine in my cheer. She says it's vulgar.”

“I think it's a very good cheer,” Georgiana offered.

Lydia's face brightened. “My friend Ashley King was going to work on this routine with me but she couldn't make it today. She had to go to some church function with her aunt and uncle. Too bad. Ashley's boyfriend was going to come and help us. He's a strong guy.”

***

“We should have bought the SUV model for you.” Darcy drove the new Volvo station wagon out of the fast-food restaurant's drive-through. “It sits higher. You can see the road better.”

“I see fine right now with this car. I'm used to station wagons. If we had bought an SUV, Mary would never get into the car and I need her with me sometimes.” Elizabeth unwrapped her double cheeseburger. “We agreed on the price too soon. I could have gotten the guy to come down a few more hundred dollars, or throw in a few more options.”

Darcy shook his head. Naively, he had expected the car purchase to take no more than thirty minutes. He hadn't planned to quibble over the listed price. Elizabeth was scandalized. She gave him such a tirade on his wasteful ways, he was forced to endure a long wait while she drove a hard bargain with the salesman. Watching her, without shame, badgering the guy to throw in free floor mats even after the price was agreed upon, Darcy had decided if he ever had to miss a DDF board meeting, he would have Elizabeth take his place. As Mrs. Darcy, she'd automatically have full voting privilege on the board. DDF would never be the same with her bargaining skills.

Ten minutes later, he drove up on to the now familiar driveway of her parents' home. His jaw dropped.

His toughest and meanest security detail, a three-hundred-pound former secret-service agent, Colonel Brandon, was doing some sort of upside-down pyramid building routine with two blonde-headed girls, Georgiana and Lydia.

Delighted, Elizabeth laughed and clapped. She glanced at Darcy's face and laughed even harder.

He put his forehead down on the steering wheel and banged it a few times.

“Poor baby,” she gurgled and patted his head before she left him. Elizabeth and his sister greeted each other. Hugging and kissing and squealing rang through the yard.

A reluctant smile on his lips, Darcy got out of the car.

Brandon walked up to him. He had set the girls down the minute he caught sight of the car. “Sorry. I forgot myself.”

“Don't worry about it.” Darcy surprised them both when the words came out. Brandon looked taken aback.

They discussed a few specific security plans and Brandon said, “Congratulations about the upcoming wedding, Darce. I can see she makes you very happy.”

Darcy barely hugged his sister hello before the Bennet sisters, chattering nonstop about wedding details, dragged her inside.

Lydia offered to give her a tour of the house, “To show you how normal people live, not rich people like you.”

“Lydia!” Elizabeth scolded.

“Sorry. I forgot,” Lydia said. “We're not normal. You haven't met my sister Mary yet. Come on, I'll show you the part of the house we don't usually let guests see. It's messy.”

Darcy followed Lydia and his sister while Elizabeth went to get a drink. Five minutes later, in a hallway crammed with various objects, his foot almost kicked over a frame someone had leaned haphazardly against the wall.

“Hey, you found Lizzy's senior portrait. She hid it back here the day we got back from Arizona. She was afraid you'd see it and be scared off,” Lydia said.

Darcy studied the portrait. Long, straight, dyed black hair blended with a black trench coat over a few inches of black skirt atop black Army boots. Heavy, dark makeup outlined her eyes and lips. He laughed at the expression on her face. Despite looking like a raccoon, she had that adorable stubborn look on her face.

“Oh God. I didn't want you to see that,” Elizabeth said, coming up behind him.

“Is that really you?” Georgiana said.

“Yes, it's her. And she complains that some of my cheer outfits look ridiculous,” Lydia said. “At least I look like a normal sixteen-year-old.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Yeah well. That was my Goth stage.”

Jane appeared. “I thought I heard noises up here.”

“That's Jane. She's the oldest, but it's Lizzy who's the bossy one.” Ignoring Elizabeth's vocal protest, Lydia continued, “It's a pain being the younger sister of a bossy and controlling older sibling, eh?”

Darcy pretended he didn't see his sister avoiding his eyes as she gave an imperceptible nod. Instead, he looked down at the portrait.

“Hey, look at William. He's staring at Lizzy's picture and he got a dopey smile on his face. Love is blind.” Lydia laughed.

Elizabeth took the portrait from him and handed it to Jane. “He didn't run away, so you might as well put it back in the living room.”

Jane handed it back to him. “I think William deserves to have it, for the good work he did in Vietnam. I just heard about the Operation Smiles team you've sponsored and the medicine for the hospital.”

Darcy frowned. “I thought I could trust Mr. Luc.”

“Of course, you're the foundation from New York.” Elizabeth hugged him. “I can't believe I didn't make the connection. Why didn't you tell me?”

“It wasn't Mr. Luc,” Jane said. “Your cyclo-driver friend Oanh now smiles all the time, showing off his pearly whites. He tells everyone about it. Charles told him you're behind everything, but to keep it a secret because you don't like the attention.”

“You are the best of men.” Elizabeth kissed Darcy's cheek. “And that's why I'm marrying you.”

Jane said, “Speaking of marrying, we need to get some plans firmed up.”

Besides the church ceremony in the afternoon, Elizabeth's mom decided to add a touch of cultural flavor with a Vietnamese wedding ceremony at home in the morning. He didn't care what ceremony or how many he had to endure, as long as at the end of each, he was married to Elizabeth. Darcy had to suffer through a long, tedious discussion over the myriad minutiae of wedding details. His mind wandered until something about the wedding invitations caught his attention, puzzling him.

“But they might give you something with Mr. and Mrs. Darling engraved,” Jane was saying.

“What do I care? Besides, remember we're inviting a lot of Aunt Mai's relatives. They won't give gifts. They'll give money. Ka-ching!” Elizabeth imitated the cash machine motion then high-fived Lydia.

Bemused, he stared at his fiancée. She did a little dance around the couch with her younger sister. He wondered if he would ever fully understand his frugal fiancée. Elizabeth had unlimited access to his billions—a fact he knew hardly entered into her consciousness—yet here she was, gleefully happy at the prospect of fleecing the wedding guests.

“Aunt Mai has a boatload of relatives,” Elizabeth said. “Mr. and Mrs. Darling are going to rake in some coins, baby.”

Reminded of what had puzzled him about their wedding invitation, Darcy asked his fiancée, “Who are this Mr. and Mrs. Darling?”

“Didn't I tell you? That's who we are.”

***

“Why do we have to wear dresses while the groom gets to wear a tux, a fucking debonair black tux?” Richard growled and gestured to their matching, dark blue Vietnamese wedding outfits.

“Because uptight Darce would never survive wearing something so ethnic like these
ao
dais
,” Bingley said. “You and I are from a tougher breed of men.”

“We're tough all right. We're both wearing silk dresses over what look to me like pajama pants.” Richard pulled the front flap of the dress from between his legs. The dress split on the side from the waist down. At least he had insisted on wearing his tuxedo trousers underneath the flowing silk pants.

“Richard, stop talking and lagging behind, boy,” his father yelled loudly down the line. “We're going to do this properly, this receiving-the-bride ceremony. Carry your box upright. Don't drop it. You're the best man. Why can't you have a happy smile on your face like Bingley there does?”

“Because the idiot is happy playing dress-up,” Richard muttered under his breath and quickened his steps. “Damn Bingley and his corporate cultural-sensitivity training.”

Behind him, in a single file, the procession continued with five men recruited from Elizabeth's Vietnamese connections, carrying boxes and trays of various traditional gifts. The last man, a Mr. Collins, carried a roasted pig.

Just ahead of Darcy and behind two little boys carrying brightly colored silk umbrellas with long fringes, Richard's father also had on a traditional Vietnamese dress, in a darker shade of blue. On his dress, imprinted with gold, the imperial symbol of the phoenix was displayed prominently, signifying his status as the respected eldest in the groom's family. An honor that had gone to his father's head, Richard concluded, observing the strut in his father's stride.

Firecrackers going off welcomed the groom's party as they arrived at the front of the bride's house. They handed the procession of gift boxes to a beaming Mrs. Bennet and an amused Mr. Bennet. Richard's father made a long speech, asking permission to receive the bride, and someone named Uncle Two responded with an even longer speech before inviting the groom's party inside.

Darcy endured some ribbing by the bride's side when he was caught looking eagerly around for her.

Elizabeth, beautifully dressed in a traditional red-silk
ao
dai
embroidered with gold, entered the room.

Richard gawked at the red flying saucer headdress atop her head. Turning to his cousin, the quip on Richard's tongue died. Darcy's eyes had lit up at the sight of his beaming bride. Feeling generous, Richard patted his cousin's back and said simply, “You deserve it, you old dog.”

On one side of the room, surrounded by flowers and incense burning, large photographs of the late Anna and George Darcy sat on easels. The bridal couple knelt in front of the portraits, quietly asking for a blessing for their marriage and future family from the groom's late parents. At one point, the bride's hand grasped and squeezed the groom's—a breach in protocol, touching in public by the bridal couple, but no one said anything.

The ceremony was not as solemn as Richard had expected, consisting mainly of speeches—some humorous, some serious—given by the elders in the room. Every married person then felt compelled, it seemed to Richard, to give some sort of long-winded marital advice to the couple.

When the bridal couple lit the candle to symbolize the joining of the families, Georgiana's sniffling overpowered those of the bride's mother. The latter won the next round. Mrs. Bennet cried openly, loudly, and uninhibitedly when the bridal couple served tea to her and her husband. After they served Richard's father his tea, Elizabeth placed two cups in front of the late Darcys' portraits. The room silenced and the groom turned away to compose himself. Even Richard had to look down and blink his eyes rapidly.

The mood of the room lightened when friends and relatives handed the couple red envelopes of money. Darcy looked embarrassed as he accepted them. The smiling bride, however, shamelessly held out her hands.

The jewelry box Richard carried earlier as a gift from the groom's side was brought out and opened. The bride's mother seemed more excited than her daughter. The bride, who merely glanced at the gleaming rubies and diamonds, declined the traditional custom of guests pinning jewelry on her with the explanation that, with the headdress, she felt off balance already. She did, however, allow her groom to place a small garnet cross necklace on her.

“The receiving the bride ceremony is now over,” Uncle Two proclaimed at the end.

When the bride stared up at the groom with an adoring smile, the groom leaned toward her. Richard had to cough loudly and nudged his cousin to remind him, “No kissing allowed during the Vietnamese ceremony.”

Darcy ignored him and kissed his bride.

“William Darcy stole my woman!” Jorge Cooley was overheard exclaiming bitterly. The former Dr. Elizabeth Bennet of Doctors Without Borders, last seen leaving Darfur in Jorge's arms, has reportedly married the billionaire William Darcy. Sources close to Mr. Darcy revealed he and the good doctor have been secretly dating on and off for months, but it was not until the appearance of Jorge Cooley during an off period that the businessman-philanthropist was prompted to propose.

Chuckling, Elizabeth sat on the bed and put down the tabloid Hussein had sent her. “They're using that old picture of me with that actor. My face is hidden and all you see is my hair,” she said loudly to her husband in the next room. “At least this tabloid got my name and my profession right. I've been called Lisa Bend, Isobella Benitez, and Betty Benet in various publications. Nobody seems to know who you married, or if you're even married.”

“And that's how I wanted it. Nobody knows anything about my private life, Mrs. Darling.” Bare-chested, a towel wrapped around his waist, her husband came into the room and gave her a rakish smile. “Good. You're not dressed yet. I don't know how you get any work done. If I had breasts like those, I'd stay home all day, lie on the couch, and play with them.”

She tried to hold him off when he joined her on the bed. “You'll be late for work, again. Mr. Darling.”

“I'm the boss,” he mumbled against the middle of her spine. His hands snaked around to cup her breasts. “Know what I would wish for most in the world now? More arms to touch you. That's what I would wish for.”

“Shall we call Jorge? That would make two extra.”

He stilled his fingers, growled, and flipped her on her back. “Teasing me, eh? Thinking of other men touching what's mine? Mine. Mine.” With each, he kissed her nipples briefly. She arched up, wanting him to take them in his mouth. He held back. Instead, he looked up at her and stuck out his tongue, twirling it in a circular motion over her nipple without making contact. He did the same tease with the other breast. She arched her back and spread her legs wide to trap him, a little difficult to do with her protruding tummy, but she managed. She squeezed her legs together and lifted her hips to rub herself against him. Though he growled his pleasure, he still stubbornly refused to touch her nipples. Mouth hovering over her breasts, his eyebrows remained raised as he waited expectantly.

She capitulated. “Yours, yours, only for you.” He rewarded her with the sweet wetness of his tongue. When he was a little too enthusiastic, she reminded him, “Gentle.”

“They're darker.” He pulled back and examined her nipples. “They're more smoky.”

“Don't stop. And be gentle,” she ordered and pulled his head back down to where it was.

“Yssss, m'mmmmm,” he said, his mouth now full.

Unmindful and uncaring of the time, she kept her husband's mouth and body busy following her orders.

***

Whistling, Darcy left the master suite. His wife's last order was for him to start breakfast without her.

“Don't worry if you have to work late.” Elizabeth waddled in twenty minutes later. “We're having a girls' night in.”

“I suppose that's a hint I should work late. You want to drool over the two Regency blokes on those DVDs all evening long.”

“I'll reward you tonight.” She sat on his lap.

He coughed to hide a grunt. Now nearing her third trimester, she seemed to have ballooned overnight, something she was very sensitive about.

She gave him a disgruntled look. “I didn't hear you complaining earlier when I was on top of you.”

He licked his lips and leered at her chest. “I love every bit of you, on top or bottom or sideways or bent over. All positions. All the time.”

Eyes sparkling, Elizabeth tipped her head.

He turned and jumped.

Mrs. Reynolds's red face was inches away from him. “You need to get going or you'll be late. Again. Mrs. Darcy needs to rest before she's expected at the free clinic.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he meekly replied.

After the housekeeper handed Elizabeth a glass of milk and left the room, his wife laughed and moved off his lap. “Did Anne leave? She wasn't in your Oakland office very long for her briefing with you, was she?”

“She went back to Chicago yesterday.” Though Elizabeth was willing to move back to New York, he knew she wanted to be close to her family now that babies were coming. He'd relocated to the Bay Area and left Richard and Charles to manage their New York headquarters. Georgiana also moved west and now shared a house with Mary. Both had returned to school.

“Isn't the Chicago thing about done in a few weeks?” His wife buttered her toast. “What are you going to do with her next?”

“Everyone in Chicago has been satisfied with her.”

“Do I hear a note of reservation in your voice?”

“Yes,” he admitted. “Though, I double-checked everything she's done lately and everything is fine.”

“If you're still having doubts after all these months, why don't you just fire her straight out?”

“She still runs a couple of crucial departments Richard and Charles can't spare the time to oversee right now. If I let her go, I would need to restructure internally and many jobs would be affected. I have no wish to uproot my other employees on a suspicion. I need more concrete reasons.”

“All you have on her is an uneasy feeling?”

He stared hard into her green eyes. “In my experience, once someone slips and slides with their ethics in one area, they tend to do it in other areas of their life also.”

“That's a very black-and-white way of looking at the world. It's hard for you to trust and forgive, isn't it?” Her voice was gentle, accepting.

“I'm learning, my love.” He gave a wry smile. “I'm afraid there's more than a touch of truth to my reputation, a glass half-empty guy.”

“That's because your glass hasn't been filled for a while.” She grasped his hand. “But now, you got a hefty wife on your plate.”

“And you, my love, are ever an optimist. And I love you for it.” He squeezed her hand, grateful that his wife didn't deny him his pessimism. “We went through hell. What if something had happened to you in Darfur?”

She moved her hand to his arm. “We can't blame it on Anne or your aunt. I was responsible for running away without talking to you. We need to move on, my love.”

He kissed her hand and put his chin on top of it. “I saw some disturbing pictures of Anne yesterday.”

“What kind of pictures?”

“Pictures of her in compromising positions.”

“Compromising positions, indeed. You sound like such a Regency prude.”

“She was tied up in bondage.”

“Bondage? Oh.” Her mouth opened. “How? I cannot imagine the woman I met at the museum…”

“She left her briefcase open, near the edge of the table. When she left the room, she closed the door too hard and her briefcase toppled over. These pictures came tumbling out.”

“Must be pretty interesting pictures if you're grimacing and shuddering even now talking about them. What did you do then?”

“I shoved the pictures back in her briefcase and pretended nothing happened when she returned.”

After spending a few moments laughing at him, his wife narrowed her eyes. “And how would you have known it was bondage? Personal experience? At the penthouse perhaps?”

“Sweetheart, any red-blooded male over fifteen knows about bondage. And no, it was not something I was into in my single days. But now that I have a sexy, adventurous wife”—he waggled his brows—“bring it on, isn't that what you always say?”

“Please.” She pushed him away. “I'm in bondage already, pregnant with twins and big as a hospital. I cannot imagine being tied up anymore. And I want to know what you were into at that penthouse. Your aunt said you had a mirror on the ceiling.”

“What? There was no such tasteless thing. I should have taken you there before I sold it so you could have seen the place for yourself, the way you keep carrying on about it.” He wished he had never had the damn penthouse. “I definitely never had any woman setting up house there. I hate to disillusion you from thinking I was such a stud before you, but my dates at the penthouse were boring. I barely remember anything.”

“Why have a separate place? You have a big townhouse.”

He stared at her, amazed at her questions. “I had Georgiana. There was no way I was going to bring a woman into my own home and have her invade my privacy or expose Georgiana to that. And…” He stopped, embarrassed.

“And you're too damn fastidious to have the woman sleep in your bed and use your regular sheets.” She laughed. “My God, you must have had piles of new sheets there at that penthouse that you got rid of after each date.”

“No one told me being married meant I should be a source of amusement for my wife,” he complained, though he was thankful she could joke about his checkered past now.

“You were such a damn spoiled billionaire with too much money.”

“And that's why I have you as a wife now, to laugh at me and keep me in line.” He stood and kissed her good-bye. “Remember, no more than two hours on your feet today at work, your doctor said.”

“She only said two hours after you harassed her for a specific number, but I'll be good.”

When he arrived home late that evening, he smiled at the sounds of feminine laughter coming from the media room. Lydia bounced out and greeted him with a big hug. Not used to the exuberant way some of the Bennet women showed their affection, he awkwardly returned it.

“Hey, did you hear my good news? I'm going to be on a new show called
Cheering
with
the
Stars
. They saw me at an anti-war protest and liked my protest cheer. They're going to match me up with a star. I hope it's going to be some cute guy.” On and on she chattered and she led him to his wife, who greeted him with a look in her eye that told him she hadn't forgotten her promise to reward him that night.