Fractured Crystal: Sapphires and Submission (31 page)

“Yes, yes. Shouldn’t it be?” was her hurried response.

This made him frown a little. And then he said: “I’m afraid my own vacation will be cut short. Felix is going to join us for dinner tonight, then unfortunately I’m going to have to return to London first thing tomorrow morning. There’s no need for you to rush back
—
you can still spend a few days here or in Lisbon, as we agreed.”

She raised her head to look up at him. Opening her mouth, she realised all her words were drying up and Daniel was frowning at her now.

“Is there a problem with that?” he asked a little sharply. “I’m sorry I can’t be here longer, but you must understand how it is.”

The tone of his voice made her freeze, and she shook her head tersely. A bit of fluff. Maybe that was all she was
—
a momentary obsession that would soon pass.

“Oh,” he said as he started to walk out of the room. “Wear that necklace as well. I want to show you off to Felix tonight.”

And then he was gone.

Filipe drove the three of them to a restaurant in Cascais, a discreet building away from the tourists, tucked behind one of the narrow streets that ran through the old town. During the brief journey that was all too long for Kris, Daniel was pleasant but distracted, while Felix maintained a superficial charm, complimenting Kris on her appearance. She had decided to wear a long, light blue dress that reached beneath her knees but was cut low over her breasts, emphasising the necklace that she wore. She tried to be polite back, but she could not forget what she had overheard.

The restaurant itself was beautiful
—
not that she expected anything else
—
on the upper floor of a house covered with blue-painted tiles familiar from the old style of Portuguese design. Noting the colour of them, Felix had paid her another trite act of homage. “Truly you belong here,” he said. “Even the buildings match your dress, and that remarkable piece of jewellery you’re wearing.” If the latter was a pointed barb at Daniel, her lover feigned not to notice.

Inside, there were a few people already eating, but the waiter led them through to the terrace where they had a view of the evening sun across the dark blue waters of the Atlantic. As the waiter brought the menus to them, Daniel took Kris’s. “I know this place very well,” he explained to Felix. “The peixe espada is particularly good.”

She bristled as he spoke, but did not contradict him. Felix appeared not even to be paying much attention to her now, but was discussing the details of a deal that was in its early stages involving a Chinese technology firm. “We really need to get out there and establish what the return on investment will be,” he remarked, playing with the glass of local Colares wine.

“There are
still a couple of loose ends here that need tying up,” Daniel had replied.

“That’s all pretty much done, as far as I can see,” was Felix’s response.

Daniel shrugged. “There’s more here than I originally thought. Chiado has managed to maintain some pretty impressive links, despite the recent downturn. I suspect they keep a big chunk of Lisbon afloat at the moment
—
if you’ll forgive the pun.”

Felix grimaced. When she had first seen him, Kris had thought that the CEO had a pleasant face, if too self-assured, but this close to him she could see that he was an arrogant and vain man. “We both know Europe’s fucked, and Portugal more than most.” He looked around him. “It’s pleasant for a holiday
—
very pleasant, that I’ll admit
—
but there’s not much more to hang around for.”

Irritated, Kris suddenly decided to intervene. “Mister Escada projects at least two percent growth in turnover over the next five years, with profit margins easily clearing the five percent mark
—
and that’s on very conservative estimates.”

Felix picked up an olive and placed it slowly in his mouth, rolling it around his cheeks before swallowing it and spitting out the stone, almost contemptuously. “I remember the days when Daniel Stone wouldn’t get out of bed for five percent,” he sneered. She felt Daniel go tense beside her, but he said nothing.

Kris’s face was blushing now, but she maintained her silence, taking up her food as the meal was brought to them. Having felt that he had made his point, perhaps, Felix made no further effort to involve her in the conversation, and though Daniel occasionally looked towards her, he paid most attention to the man across from him. Despite the fact that she was sure her fish had been prepared in the finest tradition, her food tasted like ashes in her mouth.

Noticing at last that she was eating very little, Daniel looked at her with a frown. “Is there something wrong?” he asked. “I can call the waiter and complain...”

“No, it’s fine,” she said. “I’m just not very hungry.”

“Probably for the best, eh?” Felix said with a leer. She glanced up at him, her skin prickling and a carapace rising over her torso and limbs, a freezing over of her body despite the evening’s warmth. “After all, if you’re going to become an escort for the chairman of the board, we can’t have you putting on too much weight, eh?”

The tone was enforced jocularity, but she felt the animosity beneath it. To her shock, Daniel said nothing but merely laughed. Her armour was complete now. For a few moments she simply sat there, wondering whether this was weakness on his part or something deeper, something she had missed. After all, perhaps she was no more than fluff.

“Braganza,” she said, very quietly.

Felix looked at her as though she was an idiot, but Daniel stiffened immediately. “What was that?” he asked. There was a warning in his voice, something that had not been there for a long time.

“Braganza,” she repeated, more loudly this time.

“Are we about to get some pretty little discourse on the history of the region?” mocked Felix, but Kris was not looking at him. Instead, she was gazing directly at Daniel
who was
watching her warily.

“I don’t want to play this game
anymore
,” she told him quietly.

“I hadn’t realised we were playing games,” Felix remarked, leaning back on his chair and observing the two ironically.

“Oh, Felix, shut up for a moment!” Daniel had snapped, then his mouth was clamped shut, his jaw and cheek muscles working in repressed anger. Kris, however, had had enough. Standing from the table, she said: “Daniel, Mister Coltraine, I hope that you enjoy the rest of your meal.”

As she started to walk away, Daniel followed her and grabbed her arm. “Stay,” he pleaded. “Felix is like this sometimes, but I can’t...”

“Can’t what?” she asked, turning on him furiously. “Defend me? I know what he thinks of me, he gives it away with that look in his eyes!”

Daniel’s facial tic was still there. “I’ll call Filipe,” he said at last.

“Oh, don’t bother!” she almost cried, feeling hot tears of anger welling up in her eyes. “I can walk.” She pulled her arm free and turned away from him.

“You’re... you’re not safe!” he cried out after her, but she knew what he meant
—
and also that his concern at that moment was less for her than for the chain around her neck.

The walk back to the villa had taken her longer than she had anticipated. Although little more than a mile away, the route was up hill and the sun was now setting across the ocean so that Cascais was quickly plunged into darkness. Her heels had been the worse possible footwear she could have worn for such a journey, however, short, and eventually she pulled them off and flung them over a hedge, walking the rest of the way barefoot. Hot tears of anger sometimes fell from her eyes, and the stinging pain of the cobbles against her soles was fitting penance for her state of mind.

She had also started to appreciate the full import of what Daniel had said, even if his concern was not as much for her as she would have hoped. A couple walking by had eyed up the barefoot woman in a light blue dress with a glittering necklace around her neck. Although their glances were not malicious, it was clear that the jewels attracted their attention and Kris began to walk more quickly, placing her hands around the cold, hard sapphires on their chain. They felt heavier and heavier as she walked, a burden that she had to drag up the hill with her. She dared not throw them away like her shoes, yet at times nothing would have given her greater satisfaction.

It was not long after that Daniel arrived and came to the bedroom where she was lying. She had been crying, more out of self-pity and anger than anything, and after taking off the necklace, which she flung onto the dressing table, she had thrown herself still clothed onto the bed. She refused to look at him as he entered the room, so he was faced with the dirty soles of her feet. With a shock, he realised they had been cut and blood was mingled with the grime, marking the white sheets on the bed, but she had not even noticed.

As he came forward and sat beside her, she rolled onto her side. Her blue eyes glittered more brightly now than any sapphires as she glared at him.

“Has he come back with you?”

“Felix? No... no. He thought it better to stay in a hotel after your little demonstration.”

“My... little... demonstration.” She forced the words out and turned away.

Daniel sat there quietly for a moment. “I’m sorry about Felix,” he said at last. “He has even less tact than me sometimes. I’ve... I’ve made a few bad decisions recently, which he took great pleasure in reminding me.”

“Am I one of those bad decisions?” she asked, bitterly.

“No! Not at all... it’s just that... some of the other board members are creating problems. I have to go back... surely you understand?”

“Oh, I understand.” Her voice was fierce now. “Real life calls, doesn’t it. And you can’t waste your time with a worthless bit of fluff.”

Daniel was silent at this. “I’m sorry you heard that,” he said at last.

She pulled her legs away from him and half sat on the bed. “You didn’t even defend me, Daniel. Just one word! That’s all it would have taken!”

“Like Braganza, you mean?” He immediately regretted the sarcasm in his tone. She looked away from him in disgust.

Reaching across, he took hold of her wrist, so small and delicate in his large hands. She tried to pull away but he refused to let go.

“I have to go, just for a few days. That’s all.” He was trying to be reasonable now, but his own emotions were turbulent inside him.

“Just one word,” she said. “One word would have meant more than anything. Can’t you understand?” Her eyes were filling with tears again, and he attempted to pull her her closer to him. She still resisted, however, and when he half lifted her by her wrist, the skin turning and burning in his grip, she cried out and suddenly slapped him.

The blow stung. It was what he deserved and he did not move, but nor did he let go. Flailing a little, kicking out with her legs, she tried to hit him again, her whole body bucking in his grip.

“Fuck you, Daniel! Fuck you!” she shouted, her cheeks and her neck becoming blotchy as her rage started to mottle her skin. “Let me go! Just fucking let me go!”

But he did not. Instead, inexorably, he pulled her closer, ever closer to him. He could smell her perfume, the floral echoes of the Hermes scent. Stray fronds of her dark hair had fallen to her neck, and on her lips were flecks of spittle as she shouted and cursed him. Her eyes, so blue, were burning now, all tears gone, rage filling them instead. Looking down, he saw the strap of her dress had fallen from one shoulder, the shadow of her cleavage. Her nipples were hard, and her chest rose and
fell
rapidly. As she pulled against him, he used all his strength to hold her there and pressed his lips to hers.

She resisted. Her mouth clamped shut. He did not force himself any more. It was just that he knew words were useless, so he wanted to use his mouth to express his desire for her, his love for her, in the only way left for him. This was no bruising assault. Instead, he waited patiently.

He felt the tenseness beginning to dissipate from her body. Her lips parted slightly. His own mouth was open a fraction, and her tongue began to explore his sensitive lips, brushing against his teeth, entering him. He let go of her hands and she grabbed hold of his neck. Her teeth were sharp, digging into him as she kissed him
—
no, devoured him, her head moving from side to side as she lifted up her body and forced herself deeper inside him. He let him fall back on the bed.

Stretching one thigh across him as he lay there, looking up at her face, not letting his gaze move from her eyes, he felt her hands fumbling with the belt to his trousers, reaching inside. He was stiffening, growing harder all the time.

“I need you,” he whispered. She nodded.

She did not even bother to remove her dress, merely pushing her thong to one side. She gripped him hard, her fingers like claws as she squeezed him almost viciously. As the head of his erection rubbed against her sex, he could feel that she was opening up, a damp moistness on his sensitive skin. Leaning forward, her breasts swung slightly in her dress, the strap on one side nearly down to her elbow, her nipple visible as she moved back and forth, pressing him against her.