CORAL - Forever (A Romance Trilogy, Book 3) (43 page)

“No Coral, I wouldn’t. It’s fairly easy to commute nowadays
and if this really is where you want to be, then we shall be here,” he says.

“”Really?” I squeak.

“Under one condition.” Tristan says. My face falls. “You
don't make any hard and fast decisions, just yet.”

“Why?” I soberly ask.

“I’ve already told you baby, it’s very common to think like
this when on holiday. Look, if we get back to Brighton and everything is back
to normal and you say ‘I still want Cornwall’, then we’ll do it, deal?”

“You want me to wait, to think it over?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Ok. It’s a deal.” I acquiesce.

Tristan smiles warmly at me, leans forward and softly pecks
me on the lips. Hmm, he tastes so good. He suddenly pulls back, I look up and
realise the waiter has arrived to take our order....

IT’S
LATE, PAST TEN O’CLOCK. TRISTAN AND I HAVE
enjoyed the magnificent
sunset and are quietly sipping our coffees. The meal we ate this evening was
delicious, I’ve never had Lobster Thermidore before, much to Tristan’s
amusement, but it was absolutely mouth watering.

The restaurant has taken on a very romantic feel, soft
lighting, soulful plinky-plonky music softly playing, and the moment the sun
went down, a waiter came along placing candles in glass jars on each table. I look
across at Tristan. He’s been staring out to sea for the past ten minutes, come
to think of it, he’s been pretty pre-occupied all evening.

Maybe he’s wondering about his plans? Well, whatever they
are, they are taking his attention away from me. How to get him back? Hmm...I
put my cup down, and stare at his beautiful profile. I want to do something
sexy for Tristan tonight, but I don't know what? Inspiration hits! Maybe a
little lap dance? I can do that, I’m a good dancer, and if I slip into
something sexy, he might really enjoy it.

I sit back, cross my legs and hitch my dress up a little,
making sure the top of my lacy-hold up is on show. Tristan turns to look at me,
his eyes immediately resting on my legs. Then his eyes reach mine, I can see
they have darkened, in-fact his whole demeanour has changed.

I smile teasingly at him, pick up my long mint chocolate
stick that came with the coffee’s and gently place it in my mouth, then slowly
suck. I hope I’m making myself very clear to him.

He shifts in his seat as he watches me slowly suck the
stick, his lips part, and he swallows hard.
Oh yeah! I’m definitely
affecting him, brilliant!

I cock my head to the side, and smirk, then look directly at
his crotch. Then I lean forward so no-one can hear me. “Mr Freeman,” I whisper,
gazing back at his heated look. “Am I turning you on?”

Tristan’s jaw clenches. “Coral,” he warns.

“What?” I feign innocence.

“Don't give me that innocent look,” he says his voice deep
and husky. It makes me want him, here, now!

“You better take me back then,” I challenge.

Tristan shakes his head at me, places his hand at the top of
my leg and pulls my dress back down to my knee. “Coral, you already have enough
admirers this evening,” he says scanning the restaurant. “Please don't show
them what’s mine,” he adds, then looks back out to sea.
Hmph!

What’s up with him, I was only teasing! I rack my brains for
an explanation, but nothing comes to me. “Hey,” I touch his forearm. “You ok?”

He turns and stares at me, and it’s as though he’s debating
whether or not to tell me something? He smiles, but it quickly turns into a
frown. He reaches over, squeezes my leg once more, then turns away.

“Have I done something wrong?” I ask, feeling totally
deflated – and rejected!

“Let’s get back,” he says, gesturing to the waiter, completely
ignoring my question.

“Why?” I grumble.

“Because we need to talk,” he says, his tone clipped.
Fuck!
I don't like the sound of that.

“About what?” I gripe.

Tristan turns in his seat, giving me his full attention. He
crosses his one leg over the other, leans back in his chair, cocks his head to
the side and just sits their appraising me, his forefinger running back and
forth across his bottom lip. I swallow hard. His eyes darken, and his whole
persona seems to have shifted, playful Tristan has definitely left the building.
I’m sure he’s doing it on purpose though, trying to distract me and it’s bloody
well working!
Jeez!
Why does he always have to look so intense? It makes
me feel nervous, bashful, shy even.

‘Fantasies.’ He finally mouths. My heart leaps into my
mouth. Why can't I look away from him? It’s like he’s pinning me to the chair.
And why am I feeling so breathless?

“Why can't we talk about that here?” I whisper breathlessly.
I don't want to leave yet!

“Coral, I really don't think this is the appropriate place
to have this conversation,” he says, glancing at the other diners, then locking
eyes with me. “Do you want to go back Coral?” he asks, in an even deeper voice,
his forefinger now tapping his bottom lip.

My sex starts throbbing –
Crap!
I quickly look away
because I am not going to get this out if I look at him. “Oh...well yeah. I guess..I’ll
um...I’ll just pop to the ladies then,” I say, feeling completely perplexed.
The moment I push my chair back, Tristan stands and gives me his hand to help me
up. “Thanks,” I whisper, but I’m already a million miles away.

I walk through the restaurant in a complete daze, trying my
best to calm my racing thoughts. Once I’m done, and I’m washing my hands, I
take a deep breath and stare up at myself in the mirror. I look good, healthy,
tanned – I was relaxed, but now...? Now I just feel on edge, and nervous as
hell!

Shaking my head at myself, I look up at my reflection again.
You wanted this conversation Stevens! Don't go all weak at the knees because
it’s about to happen.
I nod in agreement with myself. I am about to marry
this man, if we can't openly talk about this sort of stuff – we’re fucked! But
what if I don't like what he says? What if he wants to do things I can't or
won't do? What if –
Stop it Coral! You are being ridiculous!

I look up at myself again. “This is Tristan we are talking
about, the kindest, sweetest, most loving man you’ve ever met!” I whisper to my
reflection. Then, agreeing wholeheartedly with myself, I pick up my clutch and make
my way back through the restaurant.

Tristan is standing next to our table with his suit jacket
on, waiting for me to return, and there’s an odd expression on his face –
What
is that?
Ok, now I’m really worrying!

“Bills paid and I’ve ordered the taxi,” he tells me as I
reach him. “Shall we?”

I frown up at him. “Why are you acting...weird?” I mutter,
feeling a little annoyed now.

“Coral,” he quietly says, leaning down to whisper right in
my ear. “People are watching and I don't want a scene, please be good and just
come with me.” I look around the restaurant and see that Tristan is right.
Several diners have stopped what they are doing and are silently watching us.
Ugh!
Don't they have anything better to do?

“Fine!” I grumble, and place my hand in his. We head out of
the restaurant, and silently stand next to one another, not touching at all –
Hurry
up Taxi!

The wind has kicked up, so of course, I start to shiver. “Where’s
your wrap?” Tristan asks.

“I didn’t bring it,” I say, purposely not looking at him. In
my peripheral vision, I see Tristan shrug out of his jacket, stand behind me,
and gently place it over my shoulders, then I feel him kiss the back of my
hair. “Thanks,” I mumble, my good manners taking over.

The taxi arrives, thank god! Tristan opens the door for me,
I slide across the seat. Tristan climbs in next to me and we head back to the
villa – in total silence.

I study his profile for a moment. He’s staring out the
window deep in thought –
Don't think the worst, don't think the worst...
I
turn away from him and stare out of my window, nervously biting my lip –
Jesus
age Christ!
I was blissfully happy ten minutes ago, how did it get to being
so serious? Tears pool in my eyes, fucking hormones!

Five minutes in and the taxi drops us outside the villa.
Tristan pays him, clasps my hand in his and gently pulls me across the seat. We
step out the taxi and Tristan shuts the door.

“Tristan,” I croak, but I can't look up at him.

“Inside,” he says, leading me up the steps. My legs are
shaking so badly – Why do I feel like this is such a humungous deal? Like it
could be make or break for us? I swallow hard and try to control the panic
attack I feel coming on. Tristan opens the front door, steps aside to let me
in, shuts the door behind him and walks over to me. Taking his jacket from my
shoulders, he hangs it on the back of a breakfast stool, then returning to me,
he clasps my hand in his and walks us over to the sofa –
I need a drink!

I manage to find my voice. “Tristan, you’re really scaring
me,” I tremble.

“I’m sorry, but I’m scared too,” he replies, his voice
equally shaky.

“You’re scared?” I squeak, finally looking at him.

He nods once. “I think I need a drink for this, you?”

My mouth pops open in shock.
This is not good, not good
at all!

“Sure,” I murmur. My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach. I
don't think I’m going to like this. What’s wrong with Tristan? He looks so,
so...sad? Worried maybe, I’m not sure?

I watch him walk over to the mini-bar and pour us both a
Brandy. Then sitting next to me, he hands one to me and takes a sip of his. “Can
you forgive me Coral for my despicable behaviour at the restaurant, and in the
taxi?” He asks, staring at the amber liquid in his glass.
Why does he seem
so melancholy?

“Tristan, I don't think you’re behaviour was despicable? Weird
yes, but not bad,” I say, trying to calm my racing heart.

“Ok,” he says, still staring into his glass.

“You know, when you act like this, you have me thinking
you’re more fucked up than me,” I scoff. The corner of his lips turn up as he
stares into his glass – Now I know something is really wrong, because he would
be telling me off for saying I’m fucked up – which I am – kind off!

“Tristan, is this about what you want to talk about, you
know...fantasies?” I say swallowing hard. He nods once. “Ok, this is hard for
you to say?” I surmise.

He nods again.
Shit!

“Want some help?” I ask lightly, even though I feel like I’m
about to explode!

He turns and gazes at me, and I can see it – he’s worried.
“I’m really worried about scaring you away. I can't lose you Coral.” He says,
echoing my thoughts.

“You’re not going to lose me Tristan,” I tell him firmly. He
turns away, shaking his head slightly and gulps back the rest of his Brandy,
then stands to pour himself another one. “Tristan, will you please just tell
me. I’m really freaking out over here!”

He sighs heavily, his eyes closing as he does. “Ok...when I
was with Olivia, we had...we did...” He breaks off, running his hand through
his hair, and pours the brandy into his glass.

“What Tristan?” I push. “Just say it!” I add feeling
frustrated.

“She liked things...a certain way. And well, turns out I
liked it too,” he says, stopping to gaze down at me. “I was trying to tell you
the other day, when we took a bath.”

I swallow hard. I knew there was more to that conversation. What
was it he said?...‘
Olivia had very singular tastes’
I get a sour taste
in mouth so I take a big gulp of Brandy. What else did he say? I rack my
brains, trying to think back on it....Then I remember.

‘She liked things done a certain way’

‘As far as she was concerned beds were for fucking and
sleeping in’

I take another gulp of Brandy, I don't like where this is
going!

Tristan continues. “I always knew with how you are, it would
be an extremely sensitive subject to broach. Like I said, I don't want to scare
you away from me, and I don't want you to think that if that doesn’t happen,
I’m not happy, or satisfied, because I am.” He gazes down at me for a moment,
then takes three quick strides over to me. He sinks down to his knees in front
of me, then taking my hand in his he squeezes it tight. “You have to know
Coral, I really am very, very happy,” he says, his eyes wide with fear. I can
feel the intensity rolling off him like waves.

I reach out and stroke his cheek. “I know that baby,” I
whisper. “Tristan, it doesn’t matter what you tell me I’m not going anywhere.
You can't frighten me away, I know there’s not a single bad bone in your body,
so why don't you just say it, and we can talk about it,” I add.

I stare back at him, he looks so anxious right now, and it’s
stressing me out. “Baby, just say it,” I snap, exasperated.

“Olivia liked to be dominated in the bedroom.” He blurts it
out so fast, it takes a second for my brain to catch up.
Dominated?
I
frown back at him, not understanding what he’s trying to say. “We had a sub-dom
relationship?” He slowly adds, as though he’s speaking to a child.

It takes a moment for my brain to register what he just
said. I blink rapidly at him, trying to work out what I think about that.

“Coral, please say something,” he begs, he looks like he’s
in pain.

I feel slightly nauseous, like I’ve just been punched in the
gut. “That’s what she meant,” I whisper, my eyes wide with fear. “When Olivia
was in the house, she said something about knowing what you need to de-stress.”

“Yes.” He says. Oh!...Oh!...Oh!
This is not happening!

I try to think of the first logical thing to ask. Finally,
after what feels like forever, it comes to me. “Do you need it Tristan?” I ask,
my heart in my mouth.