"I put you in the cage because I was furious you ran away. Because I was terrified that I didn't know if you were alive or dead. Because I could not believe I was still capable of terror. Because all I could think to do was to lock you in a cage and just... keep you." Thomas couldn't seem to stop the words from flowing from him but Lauren turned and those huge lavender eyes were wet.
She gave a little, watery laugh. "Don't you see it, Thomas? I hold the door to my cage closed without you ever needing to lock it." His dark brows drew together in a little confusion, but she rose, taking small, cautious steps toward her husband. "I'm not trying to run away. But you can be so beautiful to me, and then- that stuff. Making me ashamed, making me feel worthless. You don't want an Arabella. And I can't be one. Because-" Lauren started crying but she got the words out, "because that would make you Number One."
Thomas felt like he'd been punched in the chest. "Come here, Lauren." She let him wrap her in his arms and simply stood, rocking slightly as she forced herself to stop weeping. "I shamed you. I intended to. Because I was disgusted with myself for feeling terror. I'm sorry. This is the second time I have apologized to you, and the second time in the last twenty years that I have apologized at all."
Her voice was a little muffled because his sweet wife's face was buried in his chest. "I'm sorry for terrifying you. But I'm glad you care enough to be terrified. But I won't do that to you again."
She felt the deep chuckle from his chest. "My sweet bride. So fierce tonight." He was kissing along the thin skin of her temple, sliding his lips down to her cheekbone, making soothing noises as he rubbed her back. Lauren surreptitiously wiped her nose on the back of her hand before raising her face to him. Then, Thomas's mouth was on hers and her wet cheeks cupped in his big, warm hands and they were kissing, a little sloppy but urgent. "Lovely, beautiful girl..." It was hard to believe after how he'd made her feel the night before that she would ever want to feel his hands on her again, but the slide of the zipper on the back of her dress made her press closer to his chest, feeling his pleased rumble. Then they were on the bed, Lauren on her back with her fingers clutched in Thomas's curls as he kissed along the smooth skin of her stomach. "No one can hurt you," he murmured between kisses, "no one can be allowed to touch you. I must keep you safe."
Chapter 32 – I Won’t Forget
In which Thomas and Lauren prepare to enter the Lion's Den.
Lauren was sore again the next morning, but cautiously stretching each arm and legs against the cool cotton sheets, this time, she didn't mind. Especially when the raspy cheek of her husband brushed against her smooth one. "Good morning, my bride," Thomas's voice was mesmerizing at any time - but in the morning, deeper, with a bit of a gritty edge - it was almost enough to make her come just by listening to him. He chuckled darkly when he felt her little shiver. "So sensitive this morning, little girl. I thought I might have rubbed you raw last night."
Making a bit of a groan, Lauren buried her face in the pillow. "You and your... sexy talk. And that voice. You're giving me chills, Thomas!" She wiggled helplessly as his long fingers trailed down the curve of her waist and over her hip.
"Hmmmm..." he grunted, "you seem quite limber for a girl begging me to stop last night."
"That was this morning," the girl laughed helplessly, "and it was the third time. I don't know how you have any fluids left in your body." Lauren shivered again as he made that growling noise as he slunk down to her pelvis, looking very much like the animal The Corporation was named for.
"Poor darling," Thomas soothed mendaciously.
When Thomas finally dressed her quite some time later, he handed her a pretty white box while he zipped up her dress.
"What's this?" Lauren was turning the box over, looking for a notecard.
"It's from Monsieur Boucher," he answered, kissing the back of her neck. "He was quite disappointed that you weren't there last night."
She smiled, shaking her head at the thought that the man with the face of a grandfather and the soul of a monster thought to bring her a gift. Thomas put his chin on her shoulder as she unwrapped it. "It's from the nunnery in Italy!" she marveled, "The one we'd talked about at that business dinner last fall."
"Yes," he dropped another kiss on her shoulder and turned to dress. "He said he wanted to go back and visit after your description of the place."
Lauren carefully put the little jars of honey back in their tissue nest in the box, smiling to herself. If she could touch a man like Boucher - even a little bit - maybe she could find a way inside Thomas's hardened heart for good.
A mere handful of days later, and Mr. and Mrs. Williams were packing to head for St. Petersburg.
Lauren couldn't crush the feeling of intense anxiety- it all felt wrong. Though her husband was as calm and confident as ever, she couldn't shake the feeling that they were walking into the lion's den. Thomas watched her, mouth set and her lovely eyes the grey-purple shade of a sunset on the edge of a storm. "What worries you, sweetness?" she dipped her head and smiled then, still a little giddy every time he used that tone- tender and patient.
When he pulled the dress she was folding away from her and drew Lauren on to his lap, she leaned into him. "This is- it all feels wrong, Thomas," she sighed. "I know I don't know all the workings of The Corporation, but this feels... off. Did you see Kingston's face last night?"
Granted, it had been a rough evening, the "End of Season" cocktail party for the LSO, with the musicians scattering for a couple of months of freedom before rehearsals began again. To Lauren's deep relief, in her review with the LSO Board, they had lauded her first season with the group and even gave her a small raise. And she was warmed to sense that it was solely on her merits. She was beginning to see the "tells" now when people were speaking to her but thinking about her deadly husband. There had been none of that during her board review. So naturally, Lauren's happiness as Thomas escorted her into the party was immediately crushed by the alarming interest from Number One.
"Well, here's our little musical prodigy!" he praised with a shark-like grin that didn't reach his black eyes. Arabella was standing next to him, weaving just slightly and staring off to the side. It was clear that Mrs. Kingston had been medicated. Heavily. "Such good timing to be finished with all..." he made a dismissive wave at the rest of the orchestra members, "...this, so you can concentrate on your role with The Corporation in Moscow." The man's grin stretched impossibly wider, ready to swallow her whole, "As a good, supportive wife. Like my Arabella."
Lauren's eyes darted to her friend, who was humming something under her breath, a melody, over and over. With a chill, she realized the polished wife of Number One was humming "Mary Had A Little Lamb" in a tiny, childlike voice.
Putting her head in the warm space between her husband's shoulder and his chin, Lauren sighed as he squeezed her tighter in those long arms of his. "This has been far more..." she could tell Thomas was struggling for the correct, safe phrasing and she smiled a little. "more complicated than I'd foreseen. But I studied the Bratva for years before I made the overtures for partnership. I am quite aware of what to expect. I will keep you safe, darling."
Thomas frowned as she burrowed her head into his shoulder. "I just want you to be safe. That's all. Please promise me you'll be careful." He could tell Lauren was near tears and he rocked her back and forth.
"You never need worry about me, sweet girl," he soothed her, kissing his bride's suspiciously wet cheeks, then her neck and back to her lips, making comforting noises. When Lauren began returning his kiss, opening her mouth and sucking his tongue inside, Thomas groaned and gently pushed her back on the bed.
Afterward, Lauren drifted in a warm, comfortable daze for some time as Thomas gently bathed her and rubbed away sore muscles. He made her drink some water and then put her head on his lap, gently brushing her hair until she managed to gather her scattered brain cells back together. "I'm going to miss this," she said sadly.
He sighed, still silent for a moment as he finished brushing her hair. Placing his lips against the thin skin of her forehead, Thomas said, "I am sorry that I will not treat you as my beloved in public. But you understand why we're doing this."
Nodding against his lap, Lauren sighed. "I do. Let everyone think my bad behavior by running away-" she stopped, scowling. She hated that phrase; she didn't run away that day! "-that you're punishing me by showing I'm not to be trusted."
