Angling her chin up hoping for a kiss, Lauren groaned softly. "Can we get out of here soon?"
"Ah," Thomas took her hand, pulling her into the dining area. "I fear not. The final night is a feast and party with incalculable amounts of vodka. We will be here for some time, I suspect."
Lauren was trying not to pout. "Oh, okay."
Lifting her chin, her diabolical husband brushed his lips over hers. "Also, since we are newly affianced, it would be inappropriate for me to take advantage of you before the wedding. I respect you, darling."
"What?" It came out as a whine, and Lauren tried to keep her voice down. "What does- what are you even talking about? We're married!"
His smile was pure sin as Thomas smiled down at her tenderly. "Oh, my lovely girl. I promise the wedding night will be worth the discomfort of our wait." Enjoying the look of horror on his lovely wife's face, he continued towards the head table.
"You're totally fucking with me right now, aren't you?" Lauren's voice was small and dispirited, and it took everything in him not to laugh.
Chapter 42 – Taming the Dragon
In which Lauren is given the wedding of her dreams. And the wedding night of her nightmares. Because life in The Corporation is often like that. A total fucking buzzkill.
To Lauren's genuine shock (and to Thomas's as well, though he'd never admit it) nothing bizarre or threatening happened during the Bratva group's farewell dinner. Romanoff's wife Zia did corner Lauren, clasping her face between her heavily ringed hands as the Russian gave her a lingering goodbye kiss. "I will miss you, sweet girl. We would have been so pretty together."
Lauren was longing to kick her husband - who was watching the "tender" scene with poorly-concealed amusement - but she simply gave her would-be paramour a weak smile. "Uh... yeah."
There was more dancing, but fortunately, Russian folk dances this time that the children gleefully taught Lauren. She danced once with Mssr. Boucher, but his alarmingly red face made her guide him back to a chair and fetch him a drink.
The Frenchman thoughtfully sipped his wine - a delightful Muscat Ottonel Brut from the Fanagoria vineyards - and watched the girl as she hummed along with the tune, watching the musicians play. "How do you feel about the changes that have been made today?" Boucher finally asked.
Looking up, she smiled slightly. "I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop." At his raised eyebrow, Lauren huffed a little. "Nothing's ever this easy in this... you know..." she awkwardly waved her hands around. "This world."
The grandfatherly face of the man with her fell into a hundred soft wrinkles as he chuckled. "Mon Dieu! You do not think to discover murderous long-lost relatives, the being kidnapped, and also seeing the Jaguar management shot before you are not difficult enough?"
Lauren's eyes widened as she watched him chuckle before she dissolved into laughter, too. "Well, Mssr. Boucher, when you say it likethat-"
He patted her hand absently, still watching the children sidestep each other, giggling in the twists and turns of the dance. "It would honor me if you called me Jean-René, or perhaps even Grand-père." The old man turned to look at her shrewdly, noticing her surprise and maybe just a touch of fear. "Or, not. It is perhaps too soon, eh?"
It was simply another facet of her unreal life, Lauren thought, in a world where a man could save her life and ask her to call him grandfather and the next day be selling machine guns to terrorists in Syria. But she could only work with what she knew. Smiling at him, she murmured,"Ce serait mon honneur, grand-père."
Nodding, Boucher gave her hand a little squeeze. "Good. This is good."
He seemed a little misty around the eyes, but she pretended not to notice.
Driving back to the hotel, Lauren fell asleep on her husband's shoulder. It had been one hell of a day, but when Thomas gently woke her when they arrived, she still intended to do her seductive best to get him into bed for a round of "Holy shit I can't believe we're still alive!" sex. Unfortunately, she was aware that she had zero seduction skills and traditionally, they were unnecessary because Thomas usually swept her off her feet and onto the nearest horizontal surface when the mood struck him. Which was often, but apparently not tonight.
Her hopes were unfairly inflated when Thomas tenderly undressed her and put her in the shower, running a soapy sponge over her with many kisses and compliments.
But when Lauren put her hand on her husband's cock, he gently removed it. "No darling, be my good girl," Thomas smiled sweetly, but she could see the devilish grin fighting to surface.
"But..." she protested weakly, "shouldn't we uh... you know, celebrate?" The girl pressed her wet breasts against his chest, feeling his pectorals ripple a bit in response. "We kicked ass today, right?" She could feel it- the beautiful, hateful, unreasonable man was inches away from lifting her up against the tile and briskly pounding into her. But then, Thomas drew in a deep breath, forcing another smile.
"The wedding night, my darling. It will be worth it, I assure you." Kissing her on the nose, the new Number One pulled her from the shower, dried her tenderly, and put her to bed with a gentle pat on her bottom, which made her want to crack the lamp from the bedside table over his head.
It wasn't until they were leaving for the airport the next morning when the realization of The Corporation's galactic shift hit the girl. Martinsson's group was heading for their own fleet of SUVs, and that group now included Clara and Arabella. Lauren's step slowed, forcing the men around her to unwillingly slow their steps, too.
"Clara? Bella? You're heading back to London, too?"
The two women approached her with their usual friendly smiles, though they could tell she was not quite ready for the standard Corporation Wives hug and air kiss just yet.
Everything she'd known about them - everything - had collapsed within the space of forty-eight hours. And being a Corporation wife herself, Lauren intended to use caution with all things Jaguar Holdings, including her former friends.I keep losing friends right and left,she thought a little dismally.
"We are," Bella said, her smile was brighter than Lauren had ever seen it, and it was nice to know that the absence of her late, unmourned husband was responsible. "Not on The Corporation jet, of course." She beamed up at the gray man speaking on his iPhone, "We're taking Colin's jet." Bella leaned in a bit closer, "It's an Embraer Lineage1000E, quite comfortable."
