Three and a Half Weeks (27 page)

“Lucien, may I have another sip of water or tea, please?”

He reaches for the tea and holds it to my lips and again I gulp it. I’m so dehydrated. “I’m sorry; I’m so thirsty. May I have more?”

“It’s the drug that’s made you dehydrated. The effect should lessen soon.”

“You drugged me.” It’s not a question but rather a punctuating statement. Of course he drugged me. “With what?”

“R
ohypnol. It was necessary to ensure things would go my way.” He brushes my hair off my face as he again lifts my head to drink. “You’re really a very pretty girl, Ella. In other circumstances… well, it’s a shame. I like you very much.”

“Lucien?”

“Yes?”

“I didn’t write my book about you. I don’t know Eliza and I only met Maya when you sent me to Venice. My stupid little novel is purely fiction; I researched it on the Internet and the rest is fabrication. I was really broke and wanted to give my girlfriends a fun Christmas present. That’s really what it was about.”

“And the apt description of my room was just a coincidence? A figment of your girlish imagination then?”

“Well, not exactly.” I see his interest perk up when I say that. He’s waiting for me to elaborate.

“I have a friend… he’s a Dom and he showed me his dungeon. That was the room I described in my book.”

“And does this friend have a name?”

Nodding my head in abject misery, I say a silent prayer to Ian to forgive me. “Yes. Ian Blackmon.”

His eyes widen and a look of alarm passes over his face. Clearly he wasn’t expecting that answer and I find it gratifying on some level. Still, he’s holding all the cards and I remain strapped down and powerless. And scared. Very, very scared.

I watch as the gamut of emotions flicker across his face, ending with wrath. Not good.

“I’ll tell you what, Ella. I’m going to allow you some time to think about everything and we’ll have another chat later on. Very early tomorrow morning, we’ll begin to set things into motion to give me what I want from you and then, if all goes well, you’ll be on your way home to Portland by early evening. For now
, use your time constructively to think about the ramifications of lying to me. Look around this room and take note of my pretty little whips and other implements.” He leans in to whisper in my ear. “I even have a wooden pony and a wicked little harness to wear while riding it, love. You’d look smashing on it,” he laughs, “…and we could take some cute photos. I’m going to have to take some pics of you anyway, to ensure your continued cooperation.”

Oh no. No, no, no. I need to escape; I need to get away from Lucien before he damages me to the point of no return. “Lucien, can you untie my bonds a little? Enough for me to sit up and drink my tea?”

“I’m afraid not, dear. But I’ll help you drink more before I go.”

“But I need to, um, use the bathroom, too.”

“Oh, I’m afraid that’s impossible right now. Unless you want to use a bedpan?”

I shake my head in disgust. I should stop drinking now so I don’t make my situation more critical because dehydrated or not, my bladder is screaming for release… but I’m so thirsty so I take a few more sips of tea when he offers the cup to me. And I curse him to the bowels of hell, the lowest circle, the damned of the damned. If hate were a sharp weapon, he’d be gored down the middle, from nave to chap in Shakespeare’s words, right about now. I watch him leave the room.

Then I give myself over, body and soul, to the misery that threatens to consume me as fire consumes dry kindling; I indulge it, even welcome it with open arms, until it is entirely spent.

Tackling each day with all its assaults, both big and small, often pre
vents any quiet contemplation. Right now I have nothing to do but think and my thoughts are ugly. What if I don’t survive this experience? What if I never see my friends or family again? But the worst consequence by miles is the one currently dancing inside my feverish brain and refusing to honor my eviction notice: what if I never see Ian again?

Many minutes pass and Lucien doesn’t return so I force myself to relax, to escape into the recesses of my mind—because I have to get out of here, one way or another.

Memory is capricious, entirely subject to perception and accumulated experience. Sometimes I remember that first night with Ian as raw, pulsing, and carnal, a coming together born of base physical need to create the beast with two backs, he eager to make me bleed, and I eager to make him come.

Other times, my memory is of a night of sensory feast: he approaches me delicately, revering my beauty, treasuring my innocence. Instead of naked lust there’s refined ardor, more sensuous than crude. He doesn’t allow me to see him slip the condoms from his dresser drawer—too clinical. He wants to taste me, as one would sip of a fine wine, not consume me, as a wild animal would gnaw at raw meat.

We were in his bedroom, after he convinced me to allow him to make love to me. I didn’t take much convincing for I was
more than ready to surrender my virginity and I wanted him to be the man to take it. I stood in the middle of that vast room and watched every move he made. In one version, he stalked me like a predator: head down, shoulders swaying, long legs moving fluidly, one in front of the other. In the other version, he sidles over to me gently, a romantic light in his eyes. When he reaches me, he begins to slowly but purposefully remove my clothing.

I had on a cropped button-down shirt, a short denim skirt, and sandals. I thought he’d begin with the shirt but instead he reached his hands to my thighs, lightly gripping them and then slid them up, right up my skirt and cupped me from behind.

“I’ve dreamt of seeing you here, in my bedroom, where I can slowly remove your clothes, like relishing the unwrapping of a priceless gift.”

I realized then and there that Ian was a born romantic
, whether or not he’d ever cop to it. My knees began to give out at the feel of his strong hands kneading my flesh, making my blood stir. Finally, his hands released their grip and traveled seductively up over my hips, my arms, my shoulders, clavicle, stopping just shy of my breasts, and he began to tackle the shirt buttons one by one.

When it flapped open, he leaned in to kiss my throat and chest; ever so slowly his hand snaked around to the back of my bra and unhooked it on the first try. Of course. The shirt dropped off my shoulders, followed immediately by the lacy bra.

“Beautiful. Very, Ariel.” His mouth showed his appreciation of my breasts and that’s when my knees gave out altogether. Fortunately for me, his arm quickly wrapped around my waist and caught me on the downslide. Soft, warm lips traveled from my breasts up my throat and kissed my lips with his sensuous ones.

“You know, it’s said that offering one’s throat to another, an alpha specifically, is the sign of ultimate submission,
Ariel. It’s the most vulnerable position in which to be. I can wrap my hand around almost the entire perimeter of your lily-white throat.” His big hand follows his words and his thumb presses down ever so gently on my windpipe but releases it instantly.

Slightly shaking his head as he gazed upon me, he murmured, “A woman who can send an artist running for his brush. Just your slender, elegant neck alone is inspiration enough.” As he admired each part of me verbally, he paid homage to it physically. I knew there was a distinct possibility that I might reach a climax long before we joined together. I was already very, very wet for him. Embarrassingly so.

When I stood before him naked and he’d run his hands over every inch of my body, he peered into my eyes. The lighting in the room was dim but I could see him clearly and his eyes were the color of liquid silver. It was also very apparent by a quick peek at his jeans, that he wanted me a bit.

“
Ariel. I’ve never craved a woman the way I crave you right now. But are you sure you want to surrender your virginity to me tonight? Isn’t it possible you’d like to wait until you’re with someone you love deeply?”

There was a thought that quickly flitted uninvited through my mind:
I could love
you
deeply
. I shook my head. “No. Tonight. You. This is what I want, Ian. I’ve waited long enough, too long. Please.”

Nodding but saying nothing, he took my hand, kissed it, and then guided me to the bed. He was so sweet and soft with me. When I was lying down and he was beside me, he again began to speak. “You do know it will probably hurt?”

I nodded and licked my lips, unwilling or possibly unable to say anything.

He was still wearing his jeans and
tee-shirt so he rose from the bed and quickly undressed, removing his shirt, shoes, socks, and belt. He left his jeans on, while he used his mouth and hands to ready my body for his.

When the time finally arrived, he finished undressing.

That was when I got my first look at a naked Ian and it was as glorious as the first sunset I’ve ever beheld. My God, it was almost indecent how perfect were his proportions. I think my mouth watered—as well as other parts of me. Yes, I wanted him easily as much as he wanted me. Almost certainly more.

In a few moments he was back with me, warming my body with his own. We kissed for long minutes; he kept at me until I was gasping for breath. “Mm
m, your mouth is so delicious, Ariel. I could spend the night just kissing you without doing anything else.”

“I want else,” I whispered and was rewarded by a megawatt grin.

“So do I.” His hand glided down my hip and then up between my thighs until he caressed me intimately. I was embarrassed because I could feel how dripping wet I was but my condition only fanned his ardor. I could hear his sharp intake of breath the moment he touched me. Spurred on, he leaned over me on his knees and spread my legs, his fingers hooking around my knees and pulling them all the way up.

“If I do it gently and slowly, it will prolong your discomfort,
Ariel. I’m just going to be quick about it. Okay, love?”

I nodded, both terrified and overwhelmed with excitement. He unfurled a condom over himself as I stared transfixed and leaned in toward me, resting his weight on his forearms. “Kiss me, beautiful girl.” His voice had roughened in the last few moments, sounding husky now, even raspy.

I reached up to his lips and did as he instructed, allowing his tongue inside my mouth in a dance that mimicked the other one we were about to do. I felt him, his body heat off the chart, between my legs and then he pressed his hips up, thrusting inside me, and the pain was unlike anything I’d felt before: intense, burning, tearing pressure. He kept kissing me and I tried to kiss him back but I had to focus on my pain, on getting past it. Would it never end? I moaned because I had to but he swallowed my moan, shared my suffering, but kept pressing into me with determination, and finally, finally the hymen broke and he pushed past where the barrier once blocked. Uncharted territory… without any pain.

“It’s done,
Ariel. Are you okay?” His smile was reassuring but his eyes were triumphant—a conquest for the alpha male that couldn’t be denied.

“Yes,” I breathed out, just then realizing I hadn’t taken a breath in a while. “I’m fine.”

He stayed still, allowing my body to acclimate to his invasion and we just gazed into each other’s eyes and that’s when I knew I could so easily love him forever. Could he love me? I really had no idea but I was planning to find out. Soon.

“I’m going to move now,
Ariel. Ready?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Look at me,” he whispered as his hips pulled back at a snail’s pace and then thrust in fast. He eyed me carefully the whole time. Whatever reaction he sought, he got, for he did it again. When there was no problem, no protest on my end, he smiled and said, “We’re ready to dance, love,” and began the ancient rhythm in earnest.

Then there were no more words, just motion. Beautiful, wonderful motion and he was careful to swivel his hips to touch every part of me, as if in search of something. Reaching down between us, he used his fingers to stoke me hotter, and I climbed ever higher, into the clouds, ascending K2, climbing until I ran out of earth and the room flashed to
bright white and I came forcefully.

He kept going but I saw on his face the struggle to keep from being dragged into the vortex of my orgasm… but he prevailed. I wanted to see him come badly so I selfishly tried to break his control. I reached my hands around his narrow hips and yanked him to me as I flexed my hips up to him and tightened everything on him. I kept up the torture, trying to keep up with his flawless rhythm but unable to. Still my efforts paid off in minutes as he arched his back and the sexiest of moans traveled up his throat; his eyes closed and his movements slowed and jerked. Then he collapsed and I reveled in his weight on top of me. I wrapped myself around him and wanted to tell him I loved him then and there, but how ridiculous. I couldn’t love him. Not yet.

But… I did.

Now I invite the tears to come. Sometimes a girl needs to indulge in, celebrate, hell, even revel in, her right to self-pity. My present circumstances give me full rights. On the heel of that thought, comes the million-dollar question and the one that provokes a full-on crying jag: will I ever see my beautiful Ian again?

Feeling ready to detonate, Ian takes another swig of his Glenlivet on ice but it doesn’t help… not at all. Knowing that Ella might be in danger and being hours away from her is well beyond frightening, and galaxies beyond frustrating. There isn’t a word in the English language to call the turbulence roiling inside his head, the turmoil inhabiting his gut. His body, viciously tense, is akin to a bungee cord on the upswing, the reciprocal force being stronger than the original, the reaction far outweighing the original action.

When would Butler reach the apartment and what would he find when he did? He hated putting another person—a total stranger—in harm’s way, but he simply had no other choice. Someone had to get to Ella right away and it wasn’t going to be him so… His animal instincts, the kind of cues that have nothing to do with rational thought and everything to do with primal sense, told him that Butler was up to the task: there was something about the man that bristled with unabridged power. For now, Ian would just have to rely on his instincts for his choices were nonexistent. Taking another pull on the scotch, he leans back in the plane seat and searches for a way to calm the savage beast within.

Daniel Butler stares at the apartment door, Sean Blackwell and Tom Pierce right behind him. Sean eyeballs the lock and shakes his head.

“We’re not going to disable that lock anytime soon, Mr. Butler. The mechanism means business but complicating it tenfold? That strike plate is serious armor. Even a drill won’t quickly compromise it. We need to find another way in.”

Daniel nods, as if in agreement with Blackwell, but he knows he could get past the lock easily. He won’t, however, do it in front of witnesses. He turns his head to the side to address his security team. “Sean, I want you and Tom to case the apartment from the exterior. Figure out how many windows belong to the apartment and if there’s a way to get to them. Also, take note of which ones are lit, etc. Meantime, I’ll wait here to ensure no one exits. Make it quick.”

“Yes, sir. Let’s go, Pierce.”

Placing an ear to the metal door, Daniel listens carefully. He is fairly certain there’s no one in the first room. He knows Ella is in there with Lucien Phillips but he also senses two other men, possibly three. They may be inside or it’s possible they were recently there and have since left: he’s just not sure. Before his men can return, though, he needs to see to the lock. Marshaling his concentration, he focuses on breaching it and within twenty seconds, the door clicks open.

Tom Pierce looks up skeptically at the long row of windows. “This is not going to be a piece of cake, Sean. It
would
have to be on the third floor, right in the middle of the damn building… and no adjacent neighbor within leaping distance, damn it.”

Sean Blackwell tears his eyes away from the bank of tall windows long enough to smirk at the new guy: Tom Pierce had just started working for Daniel Butler the week before last. “Between you and me, Pierce, we won’t have to.”

Pierce furrows his eyebrows quizzically. “Why?”

“How much you wanna bet that by the time we get back inside, Butler will have the door open?”

“Not possible. That Medeco is some serious hardware even without the strike plate. It’s not gonna happen.”

“Care to put some green on it?”

Not a gambling man, Pierce nonetheless is tempted by the easy money. “How much we talkin’ about?”

Sean tilts his head in consideration. “Let’s keep it little: how about twenty bucks?”

“You’re on.” They fist bump and Sean says, “Come on, let’s go back so I can collect my twenty. I’ll use it to buy us a few beers when we’re finished here.”

Snorting his disdain, Pierce leads the way back inside. The two brawny men, dressed head to toe in black, take the stairs up to the third floor.

Easing the hallway door open quietly, they make their silent way over to their employer. Daniel turns his head as they approach.

“We got lucky. Someone exited the apartment and I was able to get to the door before it locked again,” Daniel whispers as the two near him.

Pierce wears the most astonished expression on his pockmarked face and wants to curse out loud badly. He’d been had in a sucker bet, no doubt. Blackwell was right, damn it. Should he wait to pay him so Butler can’t see? His partner solves the problem for him by extending his hand, palm up. Scowling, Pierce pulls a twenty out of his wallet and forks it over.

Watching the transaction with thinly veiled amusement, Daniel starts issuing orders. “I’m going for the girl since she’s met me before. Sean, I want you to head directly toward the subject whose photo I showed you—Phillips—and incapacitate him as quickly as possible. Tom, you need to take care of anyone else there and if there are no additional bodies, then assist Sean with Phillips. I’m not sure what kind of response he’ll give us.” He arches his brows as he trains piercing green eyes on both men. “Are we clear?”

Both nod and Daniel inhales deeply. “Let’s do this.”

The first room is almost completely dark; feeble ambient light radiates from a hallway. Like thieves in the night, the three move single file deeper into the apartment. Daniel is in the lead and ducks his head fast into the first room, pulling it back in case anyone is poised to attack. Clear. He waves his hand to let the others know and they move to the second door.

At that precise point in time miles away, Ian is wondering if he should call Butler. Dragging his hands through his hair, which, by now is so manhandled that it gives him the look of a madman, he considers his options. If he calls Butler and the man is at a crucial moment in the operation, it can screw things up. But if he doesn’t call and he doesn’t hear from Butler soon, he might just spontaneously combust into flames. Indecisive only when it comes to Ella, he sits uncomfortably in his skin as understanding seeps into his brain, the knowledge that this will be the quality of his life if he succeeds in keeping her—perennially on the edge of his seat, unsure, confused, enticed, and always wanting more. As he acknowledges it, he has his moment of epiphany: he loves Ella. He is in love with her. And if by some divine grace he has the chance again, he must tell her—no more denial and no more prevaricating. Ian knows one other thing for sure: if Phillips was in front of him now, the bastard would die young, but he definitely wouldn’t leave a beautiful corpse.

With his acceptance of the status quo, Ian finally finds a tiny measure of peace through resignation, leaning back in his chair to wait for Butler to call.

They find Ella in the third room. She’s lying on a bed, the light dim, and she appears to be fast asleep. Daniel waves his two men on to continue the search, as he makes his way into the bedroom. Leaning carefully over the young woman, Daniel touches her hair ever so gingerly. “Ella?”

Her eyes slit open a tiny bit and for a long moment, she just stares at him uncomprehending. Daniel waits patiently until he notices a spark of recognition in her eyes. “Daniel, right?” Her voice is rusty from sleep.

“Yes, Ella. Ian sent me to get you. Are you okay?”

She sits up, rubbing her eyes, and then glances down frantically at herself and then her surroundings. “Where am I?”

“At Phillips’ apartment. Come on, we’re leaving.”

She looks around at the room as if seeing it for the first time. “I was in a black room.”

Daniel eyes her closely, wondering if she’s been drugged. He also looks confused by where and how he found her. “Listen to me, Ella. Right now all I care about is getting you out of here to safety and calling Ian so he doesn’t go into full cardiac arrest. I’m taking you to my house where my fiancée can look after you until Ian’s flight gets in. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”

She jerks her head. “Where is Lucien?”

“Don’t worry about him. Let’s just get you out of here.”

Daniel doesn’t want to touch Ella since he’s unsure of exactly what she’s endured at the hands of Phillips but she’s responding too slowly so he needs to help. He reaches his hand to her legs and gently slides them to the floor. She’s fully dressed but for her shoes so he looks around on the floor, finally spotting them near a tall dresser. In less than a minute, he’s squiring her out the door. Whispering into the mouthpiece attached to his collar, he alerts his men that he’s leaving with Ella. Once outside the building, he stops long enough to speak with Sean through the mike.

“Sean? Status?”

“Found him in the next room asleep. We’ve immobilized him and waiting for your orders, sir.”

“Keep him comfortable but restrained until we figure out exactly what went down. Did you search the rest of the premises?”

“Roger on that. Empty.”

“Good. Can you both stay or should I order reinforcements?”

“We can stay, sir. The only problem is that he may have more people coming here and there’s only two of us.”

“I should know within the hour how I want to proceed. I’m taking Ella to my house and then heading right back to you. Over.”

As soon as Daniel flags down a cab and he and Ella are seated inside, he pulls out his phone to call Ian.

“What’s going on?” Ian’s strained voice answers on the first ring.

“I have Ella, safe and sound. We’re in a taxi now, going to my house. I’ll leave Ella there with Olivia and then head back to my men at the subject’s apartment. They have him restrained, awaiting my orders.”

“Do you know what happened yet?”

“No. I found Ella asleep in a bedroom, alone, fully dressed. My men found Phillips in another bedroom, a
lso asleep. That’s all I know at this time. What’s your ETA?”

“I’m still more than two hours away from landing at Newark. I’d like to kill the bastard but I don’t want to keep your men there and in possible harm’s way. What do you recommend?”

“I’ll question him and see what he has to say. I may have to let him go before you get here, Ian. Let’s see how it all shakes out. I’ll keep you posted but meantime you can relax knowing Ella is safe.”

“Yes. That sounds good, Daniel. I don’t even know what to say to you other than that I’m profoundly grateful—to you, your men, and your fiancée.”

“I’m sure you’ll pay it forward, Ian. I’d put Ella on the phone but she’s fallen back asleep—there’s a possibility she’s been drugged.”

Daniel hears a muttered curse on the other end.

“Have her call me if she wakes up before I get there. I’ll let you know as soon as I land.”

“Very good. Until then.”

As the landing gear kisses the ground gently, Ian can barely summon admiration for the pilot’s skill: his entire body is vibrating with the need to see and touch Ella. He’s decided that Ella’s well-being far eclipses his own need for satisfaction so he plans to go directly to Daniel’s and see his girl. The moment the plane comes to a stop, he unbuckles and darts into the cockpit.

“Scott, can we keep the Gulfstream here for 24 hours?”

The pilot looks fatigued so he readily agrees. “Just give me about two hours notice when you’re ready to return to Portland, Mr. Blackmon.”

“Scott, check yourself into the Plaza or whatever nice hotel you like, order room service, and get some sleep. Charge everything to my account, of course. I really appreciate your off-the-cuff readiness. I’ll ensure that appreciation is translated into dollars and cents.”

Before the pilot can reply, Ian is opening the door and exiting the plane, hoping he can find a cab at this hour of the night. Turns out he doesn’t have to for as he exits the airfield, a man in dark clothes is standing there awaiting him.

“Mr. Blackmon? Ian Blackmon?”

“Yes,” he replies, eyeing the man warily.

“Mr. Butler sent me to drive you, sir. May I take your luggage?”

Ian had just a small bag slung over his shoulder. “No need, but I do appreciate the ride. Please lead the way.”

It’s nearly five a.m. when Ian finally gets to Daniel Butler’s house. Daniel is waiting for him in the entrance hall so there’s no need to knock or ring the bell. Ian had phoned him right before the car pulled up in front of the brownstone.

“Come in,” Daniel steps aside, ushering Ian into the house.

“I need to see her first and then we’ll talk. Is that acceptable with you, Daniel? I know you’re probably exhausted but I have to see Ella.”

“That’s fine. Follow me and I’ll take you to her.”

Ian follows Daniel up a long staircase covered with a plush scarlet runner and down a hall. They stop before a closed door and Daniel turns to him. “I’ll be waiting downstairs in the kitchen. Come find me when you’re ready to talk.”

Nodding, Ian says, “Just give me five minutes and I’ll join you.”

Opening the door quietly, Ian steps in and waits until his eyes adjust to the darkness. There’s a dim nightlight not too far from the bed and in its faint glow, he sees her beautiful face and she’s sleeping peacefully. He quietly walks over to the bed, leaning his weight down slowly. “Ella?”

No response.

“Ella?” She moans and slowly her eyes open. Ian scowls: Ella is normally a light sleeper so drugs are more than a good possibility.

When recognition sets in, she bolts upright and throws her arms around his neck. “Ian,” she sobs and with the utterance of his name, she’s off, the tears so violently forthcoming that she soon begins to gasp for oxygen.