Dirty Aristocrat(20)

'Does Mrs. Kennedy know to make muffins?' Ivan asked.

'I only have to inform her.'

Ivan looked at me. 'What flavor?'

'Blueberries,' I said.

'Done,' said Lee with a smirk.

Then Ivan put a possessive hand on the small of my back and led me up  the grey stone stairs, and it was nothing like the polite one that Ralph  had used to guide me across the road. This one said, this woman is  fucking mine.

This was turning out to be a sweet day, but a surreal one.

In the tall stone hallway where the house branched into three parts,  Ivan stopped. He said he had a few phone calls to make and asked if I  wouldn't mind doing a bit of exploring on my own for a bit.

'Yeah, I can do that,' I agreed.

He suggested we meet back in the breakfast room in an hour. He waved his  hand down the corridor on the left. 'It's the last room at the end of  that corridor.'

'OK,' I said casually and wandered towards the main part of the house.  But as I wandered wide-eyed around that sumptuous, awe-inspiring  edifice, I realized that Foxgrove should not be confused with being  merely a house.

It was a blatant status symbol built to show the rest of the world in no  uncertain terms that its occupants were superior, untouchable beings.  It took me almost an hour to see just one room filled with sculptures  and artifacts from around the world. The sensation I had was similar to  walking into one of the rooms in the British Museum. All these amazing  sculptures, no doubt some illegally brought back from their countries of  origin to England.

I turned around and went back to the breakfast room. Foxgrove's idea of a  breakfast room was my idea of a palace. There were gilt moldings,  ceilings painted with angels and people in robes. There was velvet and  brocade and different types of marble on the walls and floors.

'Hey,' Ivan said from behind.

I turned around. 'Nice home you have,' I said politely.

'Yes, it is nice. I sometimes forget.'

Lee came into the room, walked to the long table, and pulled out a chair for me on the nearest corner.

I took it and Ivan sat next to me so we had the table corner between us.  The muffins were brought in. They were still warm and delicious. Lee  disappeared and we started to talk. Cautiously. A bit about me, but I  kept the conversation flowing mostly about him.

I learned that he had spent a few years in America. Mostly in New York, a  place that he loved and still went to a lot as he had a lot of business  dealings there. He loved the fact that you could travel for hundreds of  miles in America and still be in the same state. He thought America was  one of the most beautiful countries in the world, but he hated the  American prison for profit system.

Just as I was getting to know him, he got another phone call and we had  to return to London. At my request he dropped me off outside One Turtle,  and I didn't see him again for the rest of the day.





CHAPTER 18


Tawny Maxwell

I opened my eyes the next morning and knew without a doubt that the  wisest thing I could do was to go out and get myself a lick of space.  Taking off to the island alone was the best option for me. Right after  our wedding I should take off and get some perspective, figure my shit  out. Because only a fool couldn't see that I was blindly waltzing in the  wrong direction.

Yesterday, I allowed myself to get too close to Ivan.

Yesterday, I started to think foolish nonsense about Ivan. Things I had  absolutely no business thinkin' about since it was obvious as hell that  any feelings I developed for him would be doomed from the start.         

     



 

Sure, the sexual thing was there in spades, but there was something else  too. Something not right. A thing I couldn't put my finger on. He was  hiding a secret from me as sure as I was hiding a secret from him.

Even though I was dying for my morning coffee, I waited in my room until  I heard him leave the apartment before I opened my door. After a strong  coffee and a quick breakfast, I took a cab to the One Turtle  Foundation's office. I had only managed to clear a tiny amount of work  yesterday, and there was actually quite a lot of stuff that needed my  attention. I threw myself into it gratefully. For a while I even forgot  to think of Ivan.

The proper return back to work was also nice because one of the first  islands that Robert had turned into a sanctuary had just been gifted to  the locals to manage on their own, and they had sent lovely thank you  cards with pictures of baby turtles enclosed. There were also many  unopened condolence messages waiting for me. I replied to all of them.

By the time I looked up from my desk it was already lunchtime.

After a hearty meal at a Moroccan deli with Angela and two other girls  from the office, I went out to the shops to buy a few more bits and  pieces that I would need for my holiday. Mosquito repellent and all the  other stuff that was essential on an island.

Although I planned to go barefoot most of the time, I bought two pairs  of flip-flops because the monkeys are always stealing them. I also  bought lots of boxes of chocolates and biscuits for the volunteers who  crave chocolates made in the West. Local chocolates simply didn't taste  as good as they had to be made with palm oil to stop them from melting  in the heat.

It was nearly four by the time I let myself into the apartment, and I  was dropping my shopping bags on my bed when the doorbell rang.

Curiously I went to answer it. It was Chloe.

'Hello,' she said, miraculously managing to make a harmless word sound like an insult.

'Ivan's not in,' I said.

'I know. I'm not actually here to see him. I left something in his bedroom and I've come to collect it.'

'Oh, OK.'

I opened the door wider and she sailed in. She was wearing a beautifully  cut navy blue coat. She undid the buttons. Under it she was wearing a  blue dress. Someone should have told her that just because it zips up  doesn't mean it fits.

I moved back. 'Well, you know where everything is,' I said  noncommittally, and began to walk towards the kitchen. I stood in the  middle of the kitchen and heard her enter Ivan's bedroom and close the  door.

I looked around the spotless space. My stomach felt funny and there was a  vicious taste in my mouth. I didn't know why I had gone in there. I was  not hungry and I was not thirsty. I went to the cupboard and opened it.  My fingers were gripping the knob of the cupboard so hard my knuckles  were bone white.

I really did need that holiday.

I stood staring at the contents in the cupboard. I swallowed hard. I  should bake something. Good idea, Tawny. Bake something. I blinked  blankly at the canned food and condiments on the shelves.

Cornbread.

That's what I should do. Make a show stealing, rich, tender, moist, flavorful, crunchy-edged, buttery tin of cornbread.

Bitch.

I turned away from the cupboard and went to the fridge. The first and  most important ingredient: unsalted butter. I placed it on the counter.  Deep breath. Nothing to do with you. Don't you be minding other people's  business, young lady. Right. OK. Fine.

I closed the fridge and opened the cupboard where all the dry  ingredients were kept. Brown sugar, corn flour, all-purpose flour,  baking powder. I started pulling the ingredients I needed out,  unconsciously slamming each one on the counter.

The last one penetrated my fog of fury.

I stopped and took a hold of myself. I had no right to be angry. Ivan  and I were getting married, but it was a fake marriage. He didn't belong  to me. Besides, it was my idea to not drag sex into the equation. So  really he could sleep with as many slutty Chloe clones as he wanted. I  heard a noise behind me and whirled around.

Chloe was standing at the door, well posing, actually.

'Found it,' she announced with a smile and waved something in the air. 'My butt plug.'

My expression must have betrayed my thoughts because she frowned and came towards me.

'I know you. Don't get ideas about Ivan. He's no Robert Maxwell. He's a  man who needs things you know nothing about. You haven't got the  slightest clue how to keep him satisfied. Do you know how I met him? I  met him in a club called The Dirty Aristocrat. Do you know what he was  doing? He was finger-fucking a random woman on the dance floor.'

My mouth dropped open.

'Yeah, I thought so. He's wild. Like me.'         

     



 

I snapped my mouth shut.

'So here's some good advice. Stay away from him. He's mine.'

My skin bristled and the hairs on my body stood on end. I felt like one  of those cats you see with their backs arched, their fur ruffled, their  heads thrust forward, and their mouths opened in a threatening hiss.  Then she made her first big mistake. She reached out and poked me in the  chest with her forefinger. I forgot to say, I'm a bit fussy about who  touches me.

I grabbed her finger so suddenly her head snapped back. I turned it  upwards while I watched her eyes widen with shock and her mouth open in  an inelegant (but extremely satisfying for me) grimace of pain. She  tried to pull her finger out of my grasp, but I was the stronger of the  two of us and I had no problem holding on.

'Listen, honey,' I said quietly. 'I didn't go to finishing school to  learn how to eat a fourteen course meal in the proper way, but where I  come from girls like me eat bitches like you for breakfast. Let this be  your first and last warning. If you touch me again, it won't be a butt  plug being stuffed up your skinny ass, but my rolling pin.'