One song turned into two and then another and that is when I felt someone come to rest behind me. A familiar scent assaulted my senses in the most glorious of ways and I recognised it immediately. The man at the bar. His hands came to rest on my hips and my whole being warmed from his touch until I was nothing more than sensation and moisture, quite literally putty in his hands.
Unsure how it happened, we went from dancing to moving as one with his hands roaming my hips, back and behind. I was clueless and in the absence of alcohol, I was clearly high on him. I felt sure he was going to kiss me when he bent slightly, his head lowering to mine and then he stopped. I was uncertain if I hesitated or somehow indicated an objection to his kiss, not that there had been one, but he seemed to study me.
“What’s your name?”
I lied. “Elise.”
“Pretty, like you.”
I flushed.
“How old are you?”
Okay, maybe the make-up job wasn’t working as well as I’d hoped it might. My father once told me that the best lies have an element of truth, so I decided to work with that.
“Nineteen.” He’d never have bought mid-twenties or older.
He nodded and seemed to consider it. “Dom, I am very pleased to meet you, Elise.” He grinned. “It so happens that you’ve turned the darkest of days a little brighter.” He didn’t expand, but I could relate to the sentiment.
Reaching for my hand he led me away from the dancefloor, down what appeared to be a corridor into an empty space and then he pulled me to him. His hands laced through my hair as he tilted my head and then his lips came to mine. I had never been kissed before, but I felt sure even if I had, it wouldn’t have prepared me for this man or his kiss. His lips covered mine before his tongue tempted them to open where he found mine, eager and desperate for him.
The sounds I made were feral and weren’t ones I had ever made before. I wasn’t sure they were human. He moved until my back was firmly pressed against the wall as our kiss continued, I simply mirrored his movements, unsure what else I should do. With barely a hairs breadth between us, my arms moved up until they wrapped around his neck. My body was lifted so we were eye to eye and instinctively my legs wrapped around his hips and that is when I felt the length of him press into me as he stepped even closer. The feelings of electric sparks and tightening low in my tummy and even lower shocked me, almost as much as the sensation of a hand coming to rest between my spread thighs. I was hot and wet; I could feel it and was certain he could. I wasembarrassed and a little ashamed. My shame catapulted when I felt a finger breach my underwear and the moisture there was obvious to us both. Rather than being horrified at his discovery, Dom growled, his kiss turning animalistic as he touched me, forcing moans to leave my mouth while my hands began to claw and grab at his back and shoulders.
His finger found its way inside me as his phone rang. He ignored it and as he explored the space inside me, he stopped and broke our kiss. “Elise, how old are you? Are you–” His phone rang again, but a different ringtone this time. “Sorry. I need to get this.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and began to talk. He adjusted himself and walked a little further down the corridor and that is when I chose to run and never look back.
His expression as he had asked my age, and I presumed was preparing to ask if I was a virgin, was one of horror and disgust. The day that I didn’t envision getting worse had done just that.
I ran and didn’t stop until I reached some taxis and immediately jumped in one, saying nothing beyond my address. It wasn’t until I got home where Zoe and Gordon were waiting for me, worried about me, that I burst into tears. She hugged me, held me tight, and I assumed she knew the reasons for my tears. With more words, firmer ones about never running away or putting myself in danger, she escorted me upstairs to my room and as she left I heard her speaking to someone who didn’t answer so I assumed she was on the phone, telling them I was okay, that I had been upset but was home and safe.
I fell asleep with those words ringing in my ears and dreamt of a tall, dark and handsome stranger who’d bestowed my first kiss upon me, my first touch, and it had been sublime, right up to the point where it hadn’t.
CHAPTER
ONE
Clover
“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust . . .” The words blurred and eventually disappeared as I stared at the wooden box containing my father’s lifeless corpse. I wanted to run away, to scream and shout and pretend this wasn’t happening. Remaining here meant this was real and at some point I would have to process it.
The best I could do was to allow my mind to wander and think about anything that wasn’t this. Anything that wasn’t drenched in sadness was where me and my head needed to be.
Squeezing Daddy’s hand,I ran along the beach, dragging him as we went, both of us giggling, maybe me more than him, but his laughter rang around me and warmed me from the inside out. The sight of my mother lying nearby, giggling, and looking at us adoringly from a nearby sun lounger, warmed me further. Even as a child of eight-years-old I could see that they were totally in love, smitten, and knew that was something I wanted in my future.
It feltrobotic as I shook hands with the vicar and allowed the people around me to lead me away. There were distant relatives and friends as well as people from the village where we had always lived. My father’s solicitor, Gordon, was my escort and he guided me towards the car. He exchanged a nod with a man who looked visibly distraught, but why would a stranger be so affected by the death of my father, and what was the connection between him and Gordon? As I moved closer, the stranger came into view. It was him, Dom. How was this even possible? How did he know my father? Had he known who I was that night a couple of weeks ago?
I quickly scurried away, avoiding him and hoping never to see him again.
I hadn’t wanted a wake, but Gordon had suggested we should have a small gathering of the distant family members who had travelled and the colleagues and acquaintances my dad had accrued as a freelance journalist, and over the last five or six years as a successful author.
Perhaps Gordon had been right to do this because listening to people speaking about my father in such glowing terms was a comfort, although hearing him referred to in the past tense was harder than I imagined it would be.
I hadn’t seen Dom enter the house but had become aware of his presence when I re-entered the room. He didn’t appear to speak to anyone besides Gordon, but there was some comfort in the look of abject horror when he saw me for the first time. He had seemed to be preparing to close the distance between us and then Gordon had intercepted, pointed to me, and clearly said my name. Dom physically paled and even looked to wobble with that information. Who was he and why was he here? I needed to know.
Every time I moved towards him with a plan to find out who he was, how he had known my father, he seemed to circumventme or move in the opposite direction. Things were winding down, tea had been drunk and food eaten, and people began to make their excuses to leave and return to their own homes, lives and families. Something I envied. It was at this point that I realised Dom had left without me noticing. The irony that I had been the one sneaking away on our last meeting wasn’t wasted on me.
I’d never really missed having siblings and had made friends through village life and after my mum died, I hadn’t needed anyone other than my dad. People had told me today that I was his world, and he had certainly been mine, but where did that leave me now? For the first time, I wanted a sibling to share in this pain, suffering and grief. I wanted someone to turn to who completely understood the hole Dad had left. How messed up did that sound? I wanted to inflict all of this on another person, one who I would surely love, but at least I wouldn’t be alone.
Closing the door to the last of the mourners was a conflicting mixture of relief and fear. I had no clue what my life would look like moving forward. I was clueless as to what was going to happen to me. We had a housekeeper come nanny and teacher, Zoe. When my father needed to travel for work, which had become less frequent, she had remained here, as she had since the news had reached us of the terrible accident that had taken his life. An explosion in a hotel where he had been staying as he completed his latest novel. Gordon had been staying here, making arrangements, fulfilling my father’s last wishes and sorting out all of the legal ramifications. Zoe wouldn’t be able to stay forever, would she? I knew I’d be asking too much of her. Nor would Gordon. So, where did that leave me? I had asked Gordon about this just that morning as we waited for the hearse carrying my father’s body on its final journey. He had brushed it off every time I had asked, and this morning had proven no different. He had simply told me that my father hadmade necessary arrangements for my safety and wellbeing, but he wasn’t yet in a position to give me the details of the plan my father had made.
