Vengeful Love: Black Diamonds (16 page)

BOOK: Vengeful Love: Black Diamonds
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“Gosh, these are heavy,” I say, bending forward slightly to ease the weight of four metal blocks attached to my waist by a coarse, thick material belt.

“They won’t feel too bad in the water. Ready?”

“Yep.”

“Alright, it’ll feel heavy when I let go of the tank. Head into the water and kneel, I’ll bring your fins.”

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

He releases the tank and I fall back, slapstick style. Gregory catches me with a hearty laugh. “Holy shit, that’s heavy.”

“Don’t tell me you’re ready if you’re not. Ready?”

I blow out. “Yep. Ready now.”

“Okay, go on,” he laughs.

On our knees, just below the surface, Gregory teaches me how to breathe through my own regulator and switch mine with his spare if I get in trouble. That thought scares me. He shows me how to clear my mask and retrieve my regulator if it falls out of my mouth.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be with you. I’ll take care of everything, baby, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I know you won’t.”

When we’re back on the boat Carl drives us to a stick poking out of the waves, which is apparently a marker for a dive site.

“I was out here with Bryony last week and we saw four turtles,” Carl tells me.

“Turtles?” I turn to Gregory. “Seriously?”

He nods with a delectable smile.

“Oh my gosh, I’ve only ever seen them in Attenborough documentaries.”

Gregory hands me a short wetsuit. “Put this on.”

“Aren’t you wearing one?”

“No, I’ll be fine in shorts. You might find the water cold down there, especially your first time. It’ll make the weights more comfortable on your hips, too. Dunk the suit in the water first, it’s easier to get in when it’s wet.”

“I’ve no doubt it is,” I say with a flirtatious smile.

When I’m suited up he makes me recite the pre-water kit checks he taught me but he does the work. “Big willies really are fun,” I tell him. “BCD. Weights. Releases. Air and final check.”

He pecks my nose when he’s satisfied I’m safe and he and Williams gear up themselves. I sit back, anchored to the boat by my heavy tank, and admire the view of Gregory’s torso moving in the dazzling light of the sun.

“Put your mask on, baby. You need to spit first.”

“Excuse me?”

Gregory and Williams sit on the opposite side of the boat and simultaneously draw spit into their mouths then fire it into the eyes of their masks and rub it in.

“Oh, God, that’s disgusting.”

“Well, we’ll be able to see,” Williams says.

“I can see through this,” I protest, holding the mask to my face.

“Not when you get under the water, you’ll fog up,” Williams tells me.

“I don’t care, I’m not doing that, it’s horrid.”

“Baby, Williams is right. Spit.”

“No.”

“Oh, I get it. You’re scared. That’s fine, baby, no one’s making you do this. You can stay on the boat with Carl if you don’t dare.”

With a pout and a huffy exhale, I draw saliva into my mouth and spit it at the mask. All three men laugh.

“That’s pitiful. You need to really spit, angel.”

Glaring at him, I draw a huge ball of spit into my mouth and fire it at the mask like a bloke on a building site with a nose full of dust. It makes my stomach turn but I rub the spit around the mask, dunk the mask in the water and pull it on my head. “Happy?”

“That’s actually disgusting. Alright, let’s go. Hop your bum onto the edge of the boat.”

“Okay.” I lift my bum to the rim of the boat and hear an almighty splash, turning to see Williams and Gregory surfacing from under the water. “What on earth? How do I do that?”

“Fully inflate your BCD, baby. Good girl. Now put your hand over your mouth piece and your mask. Good. Now cross your legs and—”

When I surface, Gregory and Williams are on my side of the boat. Gregory removes his mouthpiece to speak. “Okay, baby, you need to deflate your BCD and sink down. You remember what I told you about how to float in the water?”

I nod.

“Good girl. Williams will meet you down there and I’ll follow. Don’t forget to go slow and equalize your ears like I showed you. If your ears hurt, kick back up just a little and try again. Okay?”

My heart starts beating fast but I deflate my BCD and sink just like Gregory told me. Williams is there hovering just above the ocean bed and once I’ve managed to stabilise my buoyancy, he signals to ask if I’m okay. I make a circle with my index finger and thumb then interlace my fingers and hold my hands together at my waist like Gregory taught me. Williams signals for me to follow him and as I do, I notice Gregory slide in line beside me.

It takes me a minute or two to adjust to being in the water, trying to remember everything I learned and swim and float at the same time. Gregory stays right by my side the whole time and signals to ask if I’m okay. My breaths come thick and fast, many more bubbles rising from my regulator than the number coming from Williams and Gregory combined. Gregory rolls onto his back and looks me in the eye, reassuring me and making me feel safe. My breathing calms and when he’s satisfied, he drifts back to my side. He takes my hand, rolling his thumb across my knuckles, guiding me along with him.

Now. Calm. Safe. I start to appreciate this new, colourful, exquisite underworld. We move over corals, pinks, purples, blues. Gregory points out an enormous aqua and purple giant clam that snaps shut when we move close. Small orange weed-type things, beautiful and bright, like jelly, are just like I’ve seen on TV. Gregory leaves me briefly to swim to the mini bushes and points out a fish that looks just like Nemo.

I hear a ting and I’m surprised by how easily I can manoeuver to look at Williams tapping his tank with a piece of metal. He places one hand over the other, fingers bent, interlaced and pointing to the seabed, and he turns his thumbs in circles. Gregory moves quickly at the signal I don’t recognise and, taking my hand, he glides us towards the spot Williams is watching. A huge, beautiful green turtle moves its arms elegantly up and down and drifts through the water. The sight is so profound the bubbles from my regulator stop until Gregory taps my back.

The most important rule is to breathe, Scarlett, you mustn’t hold your breath under water.

I nod and take a breath that makes me rise in the water so Gregory has to take my hand quickly and pull me back to his level, where I continue watching the turtle and follow behind as it swims away from us. When it eventually moves into the distance, I’m so giddy I roll in the water, amazed at the feeling of complete weightlessness. Freedom. So far removed from the real world. And I get to share my Technicolor heaven with the man of my dreams.

His eyes are beaming when he swims alongside me. I point to my eye, then my heart, then right at him.

Chapter Sixteen

Yesterday, Richard confirmed that the tabloid has agreed to settle. D.I. Barnes confirmed that Trina has been suspended on suspicion of releasing a conspiracy theory to the press. We’re one week into our holiday and since their talk, Gregory and Amanda are getting along, possibly even enjoying each other’s company.

Yet, I wake to find myself alone in bed for the third time in five nights and I wish I knew how to help him.

I’ve been doing what I know, what
we
know, helping him forget. But the effect wears off. It doesn’t stop the next nightmare from coming.

“Come to bed,” I whisper into his naked back as I stroke his shoulders.

He’s leaning over the rail of the yacht with a crystal glass of liquor, most likely Scotch. “I’ll be back shortly. You go, baby, get some sleep.”

I lie in bed, tossing and turning, wishing he would come back to me. As tiredness takes over my thoughts, a sense of uneasiness fills my mind. I might think my own worries about Katrina Martin were irrational if I didn’t know the same thoughts were keeping Gregory up every night and sending him back to his dark, closed world.

* * *

I stretch in the brightness of our bedroom, sunlight beaming in through the small window and reflecting off the bright walls. I’ve managed to sleep until after ten; that’s practically unheard of. The disrupted previous nights have obviously taken their toll.

After a shower, I dirty back up with an application of suntan lotion, then pull on one of several pairs of light denim shorts Julia and Lucas packed for me. Pairing the shorts with a white vest over a shimmering silver-grey bikini, I head out to the deck.

Bertie has left plates of food from breakfast on the table, covered by linen napkins. I pour a coffee and take it with a slice of fresh bread and jam to the sun loungers where Amanda is laid out with the latest copy of
Vogue
.

I settle onto the lounger next to her. “Morning.”

“Hey. What do you think of this?” She turns the open pages of
Vogue
to face me and I’m confronted by images of ten vintage designer prams. “I’m thinking of going old chic. I think Baby would like it.”

Holding my hand in the air and turning my wrist whilst I swallow the bread in my mouth, I nod. “I like them. Erm, why do you have a baby magazine hidden inside
Vogue
?”

“Meh, Ed keeps telling me to calm down but it’s exciting, you know. I have so many ideas for clothes, the nursery. Oh gosh, there are some amazing Christening ideas in here, too. I mean, I think we should be married before the Christening, it doesn’t seem right otherwise, but there’s no harm in future proofing. And, of course, we still need to think about a house for us all.”

“A house? Wouldn’t you stay in Williams’s place?”

“Ongoing discussion. Ed has a two bed but I think we need a house. A home for Baby.”

“Wow, Amanda, I don’t say this to be shitty, really I don’t.”

“But you think I need to calm down, too?”

“I, no, not calm down, it’s cute that you’re so excited. Just, maybe remember that Williams might need a little more time to come round.”

“I know. Bloody men. That’s why I’m hiding the mag. In my defence, he didn’t need time to knock me up.”

I splutter through my mouthful of coffee. “Fair point. I’m sure you remind him often enough.”

She grins then rests her mag down on her stomach, adjusting her leaf-patterned bikini.

“Where are they anyway?”

Amanda points a finger in the direction of the sea, completely disinterested.

Taking my coffee to the side of the deck, I watch both men blazing across the water on high-polished, purple and grey Jet Skis, wearing board shorts, bare chests and huge grins. They power straight towards each other, so fast my shoulders rise to my ears the closer they get. I hold my breath when they’re just meters apart and practically exhale the words, “Holy shit!” when they both turn right at the last minute.

I watch them for twenty minutes or so before Gregory looks over and notices me, holding up a hand in the air as he stands on his Jet Ski and rides back towards the boat.

“Get here,” he shouts, as he pulls the Jet Ski up to the steps at the back of the yacht.

I run, giggling with excitement to the back of the boat. “I’ve never been on a Jet Ski.” Carl fixes me into a blue life jacket. “How come I have to wear one of these and you don’t?”

“Because you’re small and delicate and you’ve never ridden a Jet Ski before and I love you.”

Grinning, I hold out my hand for him to help me onto the back of his man toy. “You win.” Tucking into his back, I wrap my hands tightly around his waist.

“Hold on, baby, I’m going to take you for the ride of your life.”

He skids across the water and sets off in a straight line, turning slightly into the rolling sea. I bounce in my seat, holding onto him tighter with each wave. Water sprays in my face so I can hardly see but adrenalin has me screaming in delight.

“I want to drive!” I shout over the roar of the engine and the crashing of water.

“What?”

“I want to give you the ride of
your
life, handsome.”

He throws his head back with a laugh but slows the Jet Ski to a stop. He unclips the plastic spiral wire that’s attached to his shorts. “Alright, climb around me and attach this to your jacket.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a safety wire. If you come off the wire unclips and kills the engine.”

“Am I going to come off?”

“If you drive like a buffoon you might.”

I laugh hard from my abdomen. “I’ll show you a buffoon.”

I twist the handle bar right back and we shoot off across the water, crashing over waves and landing with a thud.

“Scarlett, slow down, you’re insane.”

“High and fast, baby!” I shout, enjoying the feel of his chest chugging against my back and his arms wrapped tightly around me.

I turn us into corners, lifting us out of our seats, water blazing into my face.
God, this is fun!

Eventually, I slow us down in the middle of the sea and enjoy his arms roaming across my stomach. “I don’t ever want to go home.”

“Me neither, baby.”

I lean back into him with a heavy sigh. “I wish it could be just us, like this, always.”

“But you know what, I’m looking forward to going home. To
our
home and having you all to myself, in our bed, on our sofa, on our desk, in our shower.”

“You’ve been thinking about this.”

“Every minute of every day.” He presses his lips to my forehead. “Three more days until I can tie you to our bed and fuck you until you’re begging me to stop.”

“I’m not sure that’ll ever happen.”

* * *

Around lunchtime, Richard emails a scan of the settlement agreement signed on behalf of the tabloid. I run off a copy in Gregory’s small on-boat office and have him sign before scanning the executed version back to Richard to file.

“Would you like wine with lunch today?” Bryony asks when the four of us take our seats and wait for Bertie’s legendary fish stew.

“Bring a bottle of Pol Rodger first, Bryony,” Gregory says.

With full glasses—well, Amanda’s one third full—Amanda and Williams eye Gregory, waiting for a clue as to why we’re drinking champagne. There’s no speech to toast, no acknowledgement of what I know Gregory is feeling. He tips his glass subtly in my direction.

We fended off this attack and we’ll fend off every other attack that comes our way. Together.

Gregory takes hold of my hand on top of the table and strokes my knuckles. The conversation changes to chocolate, old and new, the brands we remember from the nineties, the prices then and the extortion of a chocolate bar today. We’re all pretty convinced the price has gone up and the size gone down. The conversation is animated and Gregory and I are as involved as the others but beneath the table, my foot slips lazily over the skin of his exposed calf. He doesn’t react, which I see as a challenge I’d like to conquer.

Sipping the cool champagne, I slide my foot higher, over the seam of his beige shorts. Still no reaction. As he speaks, I work my toes higher still and halt over his crotch. He stops talking and shuffles slightly, pushing back against my instep.

“Wouldn’t you agree, Scarlett?” Williams asks.

“Ah, yes, yep, sure.”

“What do you agree with, Scarlett?” Gregory asks, his head angled to one side, a delicious half smile, cocky and sexy as hell, drawn on his lips.

I jab my foot gently into his package. “What Williams said.”

Williams continues to talk and Amanda jumps in to protest against whatever his line of argument is. I increase the pressure of my toes over Gregory’s growing bulge.

“Here we go, guys. No shellfish in this one for you,” Bryony says, putting a large white bowl in front of Amanda. She places a regular bowl, with shellfish, in front of me and Bertie places two similar bowls in front of Williams and Gregory.

I rub the ball of my foot across Gregory’s crotch one last time before he reaches down, squeezing my toes until I yelp and bang my knee off the underside of the table. Gregory glares at me, shaking his head, as Williams tries to stop a smirk pulling on his lips.

The stew is fantastic, delicious poached white fish, langoustine, crab and clams in a rich tomato and onion sauce, just the faintest taste of nutmeg coming through. It’s too good to leave but I stay away from the bread, as does Gregory. We’re both hungry, but not for bread.

Amanda takes my attention as Bryony clears our empty bowls. “I’m thinking of cutting my hair. Going for a sophisticated bob. What do you think?”

From the corner of my eye I see Gregory and Williams have one of their unspoken conversations. “Are you sure? I love your hair the way it is. You’ve always had long hair.”

Williams takes Amanda’s hand across the table. “Mand, why don’t you let me show you around the island?” he asks, making me look to the instigator of that idea and finding two mischievous browns staring back at me.

“Sure. You two want to come?”

“Oh, no, we’re good. You guys enjoy,” I say, not moving my hazel-greens from my dazzling man.

When they’re gone, Gregory’s lust-filled eyes are drinking me in. He pushes his chair back from the table. “Get here.”

I go to him, straddling him in his chair.

“You want to make me hard, baby?”

“Rock hard,” I whisper.

“Tell me why.”

I fist my hands in his hair and hover my lips over his. “Because I want you inside me. I want you to drive me wild the way I know you can.”

He slides his hands under my yellow sundress and cups my bare arse then yanks me forward onto his hips. “Do you know how much I love to see your face, desperate for me? How amazing you feel around my dick?”

He lifts his pelvis, letting me feel his erection, the coarse material of his shorts rubbing against my tender skin. “Are you already wet for me, baby? Tell me how much you want my cock inside you.”

I dip my tongue into his mouth and draw it across the underside of his lip. “I want you inside me. I want you to fuck me. Rough.”

“You’re going to be screaming my name, baby.”

I grind my hips in response to his husky voice and he pulls me to him, kissing me harshly, the way I want him to take me.

“Make me scream your name.” My voice is low and heavy.

He stands from the chair, taking me with him, and carries me below deck. He kicks the bedroom door shut behind us then shoves my back against the wall, pressing his stiff crotch against me.

“Feel how hard you make me. I want to come inside you. But first I want to come all over here.”

With his body pinning my waist to the wall, he pulls my strapless dress to my waist, exposing my breasts. He licks my nipple and moans as he bites the soft flesh, stretching it in his teeth. He offers two fingers to my mouth.

“Suck.”

I run my tongue from the base to the tip of his fingers then wrap my mouth around them. He withdraws his fingers and just as quickly, pushes them inside my welcoming sex.

“So fucking wet.”

“God, I want you. Now.”

He pulls me back from the wall and sits me onto the edge of the bed. He takes off his white T-shirt and I run my hands over his chest before moving to the button and zip of his shorts. He lifts my dress over my head.

“You’ve driven me insane for the last hour, knowing you had nothing on under that.”

“Mission accomplished.” I wanted to make him crazy. Crazy enough that he’d give me the kind of sex I can take home with me and remember when we’re fighting off whatever threat is next, whoever tries to break us next.

“Take these off,” he says, gesturing to his shorts.

First, I reach inside his tight white boxers and cup his hard-on until his head rolls back. Then I free him and indulge in the sight of him, a work of art.

He grabs my ankles. “Lie back.” He plants my feet flat on the edge of the bed then kneels between my thighs.

His tongue teases my clit, drawing my hips from the bed.

“Oh, God, Gregory.” He sucks, drawing blood into the sensitive bud, making me beg for more. He works his tongue masterfully down, tasting the inside of my hole, working around the edge then back up to my clit. I’m building fast.

“Not yet,” he says, standing and taking my hands to sit me up. “Suck me.”

I moan as I wrap my lips straight around the end of his cock, taking him by surprise. I work his base with my hand and draw my mouth up and down his angry shaft, eager to see him climax.

“That’s right, baby, like that. You know what to do to me.”

His words make we work him harder, encouraging the first drop of pre-ejaculate, lapping it up.

“Yes, baby, take me there. I want to come all over your tits.”

I wrap a fist around the base of him and tug up and down as I swirl his end, flicking my tongue across his spot, swallowing another drop of pre-come.

“Come for me, Gregory. I want you to come.”

He pulls out of me and nudges my shoulder. I lie back and watch him, towering over me, taking over with his own hand. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Scarlett. I could watch you all day, hot for me.”

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