Refracted Crystal: Diamonds and Desire (26 page)

“Oh, Daniel, I’m so sorry!”

He returned his gaze to hers and smiled, his expression somewhat ambiguous. “I’m not sure that I am. I’ve fought so hard to keep it recently, but I can't completely explain why—or what I’ve been fighting for. It was not entirely unexpected, and I must admit to feeling slightly relieved. But that’s not the worst of it.” Now his face did look angry and he turned his eyes back to the window, watching the London streets as they passed by.

Kris knew better than to interrupt him: he would tell her what she needed to know when he was ready.

“Francis was there,” he said at last. “I haven’t seen him since the arraignment. The look of shock on his face when he realised I was in London, as well as that on Felix’s, was almost  worth it alone.

“I tried to explain to shareholders there what was happening, but they weren’t having any of it. I tried to explain just the kind of person that Francis was, but the words stuck in my mouth I’m afraid. None of them would have wanted to hear it, well, all but a very few—they’re too scared of Max to do anything.”

He paused again, his jaw clenching as he continued to look out of the window. Then he turned slowly back to Kris, his eyes burning fiercely, the strangely asymmetrical pupils like distorted black holes as he watched her.

“He hates me, you know. He wants to destroy me. I can see it in the way he watches me, though the little fucker doesn’t dare catch my eye directly. I can almost
taste
it on him. I’m not the majority shareholder any more, but he doesn’t just want to buy me out: he wants to grind me into dust. I don’t know whether Max is behind it or whether it’s more pathetic than that, his attempt to get even because I beat him so thoroughly.” This elicited a low laugh from Daniel. “God, how I’d love to do
that
again.”

“Daniel,” Kris reached across and placed a hand on his arm.

He looked at her and smiled warmly. “Don’t worry, I’m not completely stupid. But I must be honest, I’m not entirely sure what to do.” He reached into his jacket with his free hand and withdrew the drive containing encrypted details of his secret accounts. “Well, they know I’m here now so I may as well draw out some funds. I had the element of surprise, but that didn’t really achieve what I wanted it to.”

“So what will you do now?”

He frowned, watching pedestrians standing at the kerb as the driver pulled into a road that led towards Chelsea.

“I need to think. I need some privacy, where we won’t be disturbed.”

Reacting subtly to his shift from
I
to
we
, Kris responded: “Shall we return to Alfama? It’s safe enough there.”

He shook his head. “Felix knows about it—even if he doesn’t know the precise address now, he’ll find it easily enough from records when I authorised the sale. There
is
somewhere that even he doesn’t know about though. Come on, we’ll get some things from the flat, then we need to book another flight.”

It took them the rest of the afternoon to prepare, but by early evening they were on a flight to Glasgow and the sun had not long set when she and Daniel got out of the cab by a garage where, he told her, he had stored his Land Rover after leaving Comrie.

“Daniel,” said the owner, a large, overweight figure in his fifties who looked something of a cross between an avuncular uncle and a bouncer from a particularly disreputable nightclub, but who appeared to view Daniel with some warmth. “It was a surprise to get your call today—it’s been a very long time. And who is this lassy?”

Daniel smiled. “Irvine, allow me to introduce Misses Logan.”

Staring at her for a moment, Irvine let out a huge, bellowing laugh. “Well, I’m glad you decided to make an honest woman out of her, seeing as you’ve obviously been enjoying yourself since we last met.” He reached into the pockets of the oil-stained, greasy overalls he wore and fished out a set of keys, throwing them to Daniel who caught them automatically.

“She’s all fixed up and as good as she’ll ever be,” he said.

“Thanks Irvine,” Daniel replied. “And thanks for staying up for me.”

“Ah, lad, what else was I going to do?”

“Nonetheless, it’s much appreciated.” As he began to walk towards the Land Rover, Kris by his side, he paused and looked back towards the other man. “Irvine,” he said quietly. “People might come looking for me.”

Irvine snorted at this. “Their bad luck, is all I can say.”

“They might try to be persuasive.”

Now the older man gave a laugh. “Then me and the lads will treat them to some Glaswegian hospitality.”

“Thanks,” Daniel replied. “It’s much appreciated.”

Irvine shrugged. “It’s the least I could do for your mother. Now, go on, be off with you.”

“He knew your mother?” Kris said as they were driving away.

Daniel nodded and smiled at her. “I’ve always known him as ‘Uncle Irvine’, though strictly speaking I think he’s a cousin a couple of times removed. Sorry about ‘Misses Logan’, by the way. Irvine is a little old-fashioned and I didn’t really have time to explain.”

“Uncle Irvine,” Kris said quietly, and then gave a small laugh.

As he drove along, Daniel raised one eyebrow. Assuming an effective Scottish accent, he said to her: “Well, if you think you’ve married into an illustrious bunch among the Logans, you’ve got another think coming, missy.”

It was in the early hours of the morning when Kris took her turn, driving the narrow lane over rolling hills towards Comrie. It would still be an hour or so until dawn, but towards the east there was the faintest glimmer of blue against the blackness of the night, and a spectral greyness appeared to haunt the silhouette of the cottage that she remembered so clearly from her time there before.

Daniel had been dozing slightly beside her, the anger and energy that had carried him on from the meeting with the shareholders now finally dissipating. Kris was surprised that she was not close to exhaustion: for so many weeks now she had been feeling more and more fatigued, but the sense that Daniel was in more danger than he was letting on—perhaps more than he even realised—made her feel increasingly protective towards him.

His head rolled up alertly as they approached the cottage. “We’ll be safe here,” she heard him say, and when she had stopped the vehicle he opened the door and then came round to her side, reaching up with his arms and taking her into them as he lowered her to the ground.

With the engine dead and the lights off, everything was utterly silent. There was not even a wind to disturb the night air, and though after several hours of darkness that air was chill still it did not freeze her as she stepped out underneath the stars. There was no moon in the sky, and she had forgotten just how black the dome of night could be: above her, the thin gauze of the milky way stretched across the zenith of heaven, and she instinctively grabbed Daniel’s arm as a meteorite streaked through the sky, then another.

He nodded. “It’s always a good time to be here,” he said quietly. “You can see the Perseids more clearly than anywhere else. I’ve only been here once in Winter, and then I could see the Aurora Borealis, like great clouds of electric green and blue in the sky.”

“It’s beautiful,” she said. “So beautiful.” Without thinking, she squeezed her body next to his and he placed an arm around her.

“As I said, we’ll be safe here.”

They had fallen into bed together and slept, too tired even to change out of their clothes, and when Kris woke the next morning she felt stiff and awkward. Her body was a lump and though the bed was comfortable enough she felt she had pushed herself too much the previous day. One of her hands groped across the bed, feeling for Daniel, but it was empty. She could, however, hear a familiar sound from outside.

Easing herself out of bed for a moment, she realised immediately that today she would have to rest. She was now well into her second trimester, and though the bulge in her belly was only really evident when she was naked, nonetheless she tired quickly: so much travelling in so little time had worn her out, and she wanted nothing more than to have a hot bath and sleep.

Making her way downstairs, she followed the sounds and came to the front door. Daniel was outside, stripped off to the waist and with his back to her. As such, he had not heard or seen her and continued to chop wood with a vigour and determination that suggested he was thinking of more than blocks of tree as the axe came down.

For a few minutes she simply stood there, rubbing her back slightly and smiling as she watched him. His shoulders were strong and wide, and a sheen of sweat was beginning to form over his muscles, which rippled and shifted as he lifted up the axe and let it fall. His arms bulged and extended, graceful gestures full of power, and his waist narrowed down towards his jeans, slightly grubby with machine oil and streaks of grass.

There was a slight breeze in the air, and though she knew it was her imagination she fancied that the wind brought his scent to her as well, the warm musk of his body mingled with the smell of the heather and the far off tang of the sea. A few clouds floated high above them in the cerulean blue, and scanning her eyes away from Daniel’s body for a moment, she observed the purpling greens and dark umbres of the landscape as it rolled away to the west.

But it was his body that drew her eyes back again and again. In the end, so much of what Daniel was lay here, compact in his strong limbs and his broad back, the curve of his neck as it rose from his shoulders and his spine, the powerful fingers clasped around the shaft of the axe, his face, a faint shadow appearing like a bruised blush along his jawline, so handsome though profaned by past agonies. Unbidden, she felt a warmth down inside her, her secret river flowing once more, and some words sprang into her mind.

“Age cannot wither him, nor custom stale his infinite variety. Other men cloy the appetites they feed, but he makes hungry where most he satisfies. Vilest things become themselves in him, that the holy priests bless him when he is riggish.”

Hearing her, Daniel paused with the axe half raised and turned to face her, smiling. He gestured to the split logs that lay at his feet, letting the axe fall in one hand and using the other to wipe the sweat from his brow. “I thought you’d appreciate a hot bath, so I needed to get some wood ready. It was also a good vent for my frustrated energy.”

“I know another way to vent,” she said, smirking as she walked out towards him, sliding her arms around his waist.

“I thought you’d be tired,” he said gently.

“I am, but there are better ways to be tired.”

He shook his head, laughing. “You never cease to amaze me,” he told her, softly, bending his face down to kiss the end of her nose.

“As long as you never cease to want me.”

“Never,” he whispered, kissing her again on her lips, searching out the secrets of her mouth with his sweet tongue. She breathed him in, all his scent, his musk, his sweat, and she opened up inside herself.

“What were those words you were saying?” he asked.

“Shakespeare, I think,” she replied. “Though they were really meant for Cleopatra. Still, I never tire of you.”

“And I am very glad to hear that,” he whispered. As he did so, he placed one strong hand beneath her knees, scooping her up as her arms fell around his shoulders and he supported her back, lifting her up easily and carrying her back to the house. “Your bath can wait, my queen,” he told her.

For more than two weeks they had been at Comrie. Occasionally, Daniel would drive to the nearby village, partly to collect supplies but also to make contact with the outside world. He had specifically chosen this croft because it was impossible to connect via mobile phone or internet, but while this had been a charming eccentricity for the millionaire founder of Stone Enterprises he would often now curse the fact that he had to drive some ten miles before he could even make a phone call.

For a while, Kris did not ask him any questions about what was happening back in London. In part, she simply didn’t want to know: she also realised, however, that soon enough they would have to face up to the reality they had left behind. For the time being, though, Comrie was a paradise on earth—simple and remote from everything.

He had brought her a number of drawing materials, and though much of their time was spent lovemaking as well as tending to their other, physical requirements and the needs of the cottage, she would also lose herself in hours drawing the landscape around the western isle, or capturing Daniel as he worked, repairing the roof and throwing himself into manual tasks which allowed him to forget the storms across the horizon.

Daniel Logan. It was strange, but she was almost forgetting already that he had ever been Daniel Stone—even though, of course, Daniel Stone was the man she had legally married. Important as that was, however, it had been Daniel
Logan
that she had first given herself to, just over a year previously in this very spot.

And he was changing, even in this short time, changing physically. It was a process she had noticed when he had left prison, and now it continued apace as he devoted more and more of his energies to physical labours. His back, shoulders and arms were becoming like wood, carved from the browning flesh that was losing more and more of the sleek fat of wealth that had accreted on his limbs. His face was becoming tougher, grimmer in expression, and while he always looked on her with warmth, when he did not think she was watching him she noticed that his look was determined, seething even, as though a great, repressed anger was building within him.