Rich Tapestry (19 page)

“Are you all right, Summer?”

Her concern deflates my temper instantly. At once, I’m overcome by remorse. Oh, God, what an exhibition I’ve just made of myself. Here I am, a guest at her wedding, in Nathan Darke’s house, and I’m attacking another guest on the front steps. I turn to our audience, my apologies effusive.

“I’m sorry, so sorry. Really. I don’t know what came over me. Please, forgive me…”

“I’d be delighted, but I think you know the drill, Summer.” Daniel Riche’s sexy voice is little more than a growl.

His meaning is clear—another spanking. I ignore him. Somehow. But I do catch the smile of understanding, of recognition that passes between Nathan Darke and the hated Daniel Riche.

Nathan folds his arms, giving Dan a long, hard stare. “Ah, like that is it. Well, you may be my favorite brother, but I draw the line at you disciplining your subs on my doorstep. Save it for somewhere more private—and more appropriate. Tom, could you give Dan a lift? I think he needs to be getting off. And you, Summer…I get the impression you could really do with a drink. Eva?”

At once I’m enfolded in another pair of feminine arms, this time the redhead. “Yes, of course, come inside.”

Numb, I make no protest as she starts to lead me across the threshold into the hallway, Ashley and the older lady flanking us. Then something occurs to me. Nathan said Daniel was his brother. Or did I mishear that? I stop, turn back to where the three men are still standing on the outer step, watching us.

“Did you say ‘brother’? He’s your
brother
? Daniel Riche?”

Nathan nods slowly. Then, “Yeah, he’s the ugly one in the family.”

I peer from one to the other. There’s some physical similarity, I suppose, both tall, both dark-haired, both very attractive, though I would never have guessed they were related. But I’m baffled by the names. I break the habit of a lifetime and decide to ask a direct question.

“How is he your brother when he’s called Riche and your name is Darke?”

Nathan and Dan look at me, then at each other. They answer simultaneously, “He’s adopted.”

I’m no clearer, and from the puzzled expression on Ashley’s face, she’s also found their explanation less than enlightening.

“What? Who is? I mean which of you…?” I’m stammering now, not able to articulate what it is I need to know.

Nathan elaborates, “Both of us. My mother married Dan’s father when we were both eleven. She adopted him, and his dad adopted me, but when the time came, I didn’t want to change my name so I stayed a Darke. The rest of the family are called Riche.”

Dan takes up the story, “Nathan’s my step-brother, I suppose, strictly speaking. And Tom’s one of my closest friends. I’m here for the wedding, just like you.”

It’s a belated attempt at reassurance, an explanation for his unexpected presence here, and I feel even more ashamed of my behavior. I was so convinced he’d somehow tracked me down, for reasons I don’t even like to imagine, and followed me to Yorkshire. How ridiculous does that seem now? The least I can do is apologize, however grudgingly.

“I see. I’m sorry. I thought…”

“I know what you thought, Summer. And as I said, I’d be happy to accept your apology. We clearly have unfinished business to settle. Later.” He pauses, starts to turn away. Then, “Enjoy the party, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

On that promise, or maybe it was a threat, he turns on his heel. He strides off in the direction of the Land Rover, allowing me no opportunity to respond. Tom and Nathan exchange a nod, and shrug of the shoulders before Tom follows Dan. The rumble of the engine roars into life then dies away as they drive off. Only when the sound has finally faded entirely do I dare let out the breath I’ve been holding.

“Well.” Eva turns to Ashley. “You did say Summer was good company. She certainly knows how to liven up a party. Come on. Let’s get this show on the road. And you, Summer, can tell us what Dan did to drive you to offer to deck him.”

“Please, I’d rather not talk about it. I feel absolutely stupid as it is.”

No one offers any response to that. Eva links arms with me and tugs me into the house, Ashley and Nathan following. I find myself shepherded into a spacious lounge where Ashley joins us. There are already several women assembled and chatting in small groups. Nathan continues along the hallway, carrying my bag. I assume he will find a place to dump it before making himself scarce, though I seem to recall he mentioned there was another guest still expected.

Eva waits until Nathan is out of earshot before making any further comment. Her expression is sympathetic though. She settles me on the sofa and rushes off in search of liquid refreshment, something fizzy, she says. She’s back in a few moments, a glass of sparkling white wine in each hand.

“They’re not easy, these men. I once slapped Nathan. Hard. In front of everyone. I daresay Ashley’s considered it. With Tom, I mean. All I’m saying is, don’t fret. You’re among friends here.” Her voice is low, her remarks clearly intended for my ears alone, and for Ashley. Eva hands me one of the glasses and settles herself alongside me on the sofa. “And if you don’t want to talk then you don’t have to. Just relax, make yourself comfortable and enjoy the party. I’ll introduce you to everyone else in a minute.”

I study my wine glass intently, my eyes fixed on the sparkling bubbles, my mind’s eye recalling every detail of the stern lines etched on Daniel Riche’s face as he promised he’d see me tomorrow. Promised? It sounded more like a threat
. Oh, shit, what have I got myself into now?

“What did he mean? About tomorrow?” A silly question, I know exactly what he meant, but still I feel a need to ask, to talk perhaps.

And Eva seems ready to listen. I peer at her, clutching the wine glass in both hands. Eva places her palms over my hands and it’s only then that I realize I’m shaking.

“Are you scared of him? Of Dan?” Her voice is soft, this conversation just between us, despite the room full of chattering women.

I nod. Wouldn’t anyone be, in my position?

Eva shakes her head quickly, though I don’t think I said that out loud. “There’s no need. He’ll never hurt you. Dan’s a nice man. Really nice.”

I turn my head, holding her gaze urgently. I need her to believe me, to know this is serious. “He
will
hurt me, if I let him. He has already, and now he means to do it again. Because I hit him. Oh, God, I wish I hadn’t done that…” I hadn’t meant to say quite so much, but there’s something about Eva that just draws stuff out of me.

She gently removes the glass from my hands, probably a wise move. She places it on the low table in front of us and turns to me, her expression serious.

“You said it yourself—‘if I let him’. You don’t have to let him. You can always just say no.”

“Yeah, right.” Just saying no to Daniel Riche seems like something of a distant dream to me right at this moment. I glance at Eva, who is watching me very carefully now. Looking for…what? I shrug. “Maybe I should just get it over with. Then he might leave me alone.”

Eva laughs, the sound quite without any hint of mirth. “You’re new to all this? Yes?”

“All what?” I’m genuinely not quite sure what she’s getting at.

“Dominant men, your submissive role. Discipline, punishment. Our lifestyle.”

Our lifestyle!
I stare at her, trying to add it up. Surely she doesn’t mean herself. Nathan? I recall Nathan’s comment outside about not allowing Dan to discipline his submissives on the doorstep. It seemed an odd thing to say at the time, now it begins to make sense. They’re all in it together.

“You? And Nathan?”

Eva nods. I shake my head, incredulous. Pretty, delicate little Eva? And that huge, dark man of hers? How does she manage to survive it? Impossible.

“Doesn’t he hurt you?” I blurt out the first thing that comes into my head. Not a good strategy, probably, but one that’s becoming a habit.

Now her giggle does seem to stem from genuine amusement. “Yes. Sometimes. Not as much since he stopped caning me, in fairness. And I was probably more scared than you are now at first. I actually passed out. Can you imagine that? But Nathan made me feel safe. And wanted. Desirable. He was so sexy I couldn’t help myself. And the orgasms are breathtaking. Don’t you think?”

“What?”

“The orgasms? Breathtaking? Doms are really good at that stuff. I think they must go to classes.”

“Classes?”

Now I’m starting to sound truly stupid, but this conversation is getting way beyond me. Matters don’t improve when Ashley comes over to settle herself on my other side. She places her lemonade on the low table next to my forgotten wine and pats my hand.

“So, you and Dan then? Lucky you.”

Lucky me!
Now I know I’ve slipped into some parallel universe. It’s official.

Eva leans around me to talk to Ashley. “I was just telling Summer about my first time. She’s feeling a bit overwhelmed. And nervous. But we all feel like that at first probably, wouldn’t you say?”

“Oh yes. Definitely. Tom absolutely terrified me. For weeks. Nathan too, for that matter. And now look at us.”

I shift my gaze from one to the other, as though I’m watching a tennis match in slow motion. Tom too? The same Tom who obviously adores little, pregnant Ashley? He spanks her? And worse probably.

“But, you’re pregnant. Doesn’t it hurt the baby?” More blurting. This is definitely a habit now.

“Oh no. No way. Tom would never do anything to endanger me or our baby. He wraps me in cotton wool, you’ve seen that. He still manages to keep me happy though. He’s very inventive.”

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this. You both seem so…normal. Nathan too. And Tom.”

“Well, me probably. And Tom. But she’s not normal.” This from Ashley, her head tilting in Eva’s direction. “She’s a professor.”

“A-a—what?” My head is spinning. I’ve given up trying to make sense of any of this. At least they’ve succeeded in getting my attention away from the coming encounter with Dan Riche onto matters even more incomprehensible. My sense of order finally disintegrates and I give in to the inevitable.

“You’re a professor? A real-life professor. As in, mad scientist?”

Eva’s face reddens a little. Despite her casual references to submission and caning, she seems oddly embarrassed now that the conversation has turned to her academic prowess. “I prefer to think of myself as eccentric. Occasionally. But yes. Only an associate professor though. Of Linguistics.”

“At Oxford,” Ashley chimes in helpfully.

I thank her for clarifying that point, my head whirling as beliefs and attitudes shift and re-align.

I need time to assess all this, to consider. To re-consider. Who are we? What are we? A gifted academic. A successful businesswoman. Then there’s me. Displaced, drifting, constantly seeking order where, as often as not, there is none. Beating myself up over imagined inconsistencies. Thinking myself alone, somehow impaired. Imperfect. Rushing off in the middle of the night without so much as a word to my closest friend and leaping into a crap relationship with a man who would never come close to satisfying me, let alone understand me. All that rather than face Dan again, and Freya, with the truth of my discoveries—about myself, my fantasies, my desires, my hopes and fears and my need to explore.

“Once the inner submissive gets to see the light of day, she rarely goes back quietly into the dark. Well, that’s how it was with me anyway.” Another helpful observation from Ashley.

And now I know what she means. I reach for my wine, take a long, refreshing sip.

“You’ve stopped shaking. That’s good.” Eva smiles at me. “Our pep talk must be working. So, tomorrow? With Dan. Will you say no?”

I consider, still not at ease with this. With any of it. But I’m even less comfortable with the prospect of trying to wrestle my ‘inner submissive’ back into her closet. She deserves an airing, an opportunity to spread her wings. She rather puts me in mind of my beloved swallows. I shake my head. “Tomorrow will be fine.”

Ashley stiffens in mock indignation. “It certainly will. It’s my wedding day. And tonight, tonight is my party. I’d say it was my last night of freedom, but having been in jail, I think that sounds a bit lame. So instead, it’s an excuse to get together and celebrate with my closest friends, old and new. I’m so pleased you’re here, Summer.”

“Me too.” I’m not sure who is the most surprised, me or Ashley, when I turn and hug her. I could never be described as demonstrative, but for good measure, as soon as Ashley releases me, I give Eva a hug too.

“Right, enough cuddling on the sofa. Let’s get you introduced to everyone else.” Eva asserts her authority as hostess as soon as I let her go. “Come on—let’s circulate.”

She gets to her feet, and we both follow. I’m quickly paraded around the assembled females, and a truly mixed group they are too. Eva’s mother is here—and Tom’s. They seem to be getting on famously. Mrs Richardson, Grace, is introduced as Nathan’s housekeeper, though Rosie calls her ‘nana’. Blood may be thicker than water, though I’m beginning to realize there’s very little in it.

Ashley’s half-sisters are here too, Ayla and Melisa, Turkish girls over here for an extended visit. Ayla is a mathematician, and I’m more than a little stunned to learn that so is Eva. Plus she’s a musician. A woman of many fine talents, Eva Byrne. Yet another nail in the coffin of my carefully organized world, another person who I can’t categorize and file away neatly. But it seems to matter less and less.

There’s another friend, Abbie. I’m not sure of her connection to Ashley, but she’s here with her five-month-old baby son, Michael Junior. Eva and Nathan’s baby girl Isabella is sharing the rug with Michael Junior. For now everyone’s happy. Even me.

“Right. That’s everyone, I think. Just one more person still to arrive, but we don’t know what time exactly so we’ll just get on. Does everyone have a drink?” Eva leaves me to chat with Abbie while she and Ashley collect more supplies from the kitchen, pilfered earlier from Nathan Darke’s extensive collection of fine wines.

The sound of tires on the gravel outside announces the arrival of the final guest. Her partner is a business associate of Tom’s and they’re both attending the wedding. Male voices in the hall outside indicate that Nathan has matters in hand. He’s greeted the last guests and is taking them upstairs.