We both glared at her, and I felt comfort and victory that her perceived criticism of me was unacceptable to Dominic.
“You should go,” he told her.
“But we haven’t finished, you haven’t,” she began, but his shake of the head halted her words.
I felt sick at the reminder of what they had done but somehow pleased to know that I had interrupted.
“Go!” He addressed her but his eyes were fixed on me. “Put the bottle down.” Those words were for me and the temptation to do exactly what he feared I would do at the expense of his precious piano was strong.
The woman remained beside him, ignoring the fact that her night was over. “Dominic, don’t let the child ruin this. Put it back to bed and let me make you happy again.”
I was going to be sick.
With no clue where it came from, my earlier green mist returned but it was red more than green now. I barely heard Dominic tell her to leave again and to correct her misconception of me being a child.
Reaching for her bag, I lifted it from the polished surface of the piano rather than dragging it off. “Nothing is placed on the piano, ever.” I saw the recognition of his own words from my first night here register for Dominic. As if to offer it to her, I leaned across and then with a deliberate trip, I ensured the contents of the wine bottle ended up in her bag before dropping it at her feet. I kicked her shoes in her direction and her bra I dropped inside the bag and ensured it landed in the crimson liquid pooling within.
I used Dominic’s one word. “Go,” and she did, leaving the two of us alone.
“I had no idea you were here,” he offered. “I would never have invited her here if I had. Anyone else–” He cut himself off, the meaning behind those words clear to us both.
“You don’t owe me an explanation.” He didn’t, but the calmness I suddenly felt was as unnerving as it was unexpected. “I’m going to bed. I might go shopping with some of the girls tomorrow as I’m not at Zoe’s. Find something to wear for my eighteenth.”
He nodded.
CHAPTER
SIX
Dominic
Every time I looked at Clover, I hated myself for the hurt I had caused her when she had discovered a woman here in our home.
In the year she had been here, I hadn’t invited anyone home while she was present. I’d had sex, many times, often to block out thoughts, memories and fantasies of her, but I had taken it away from here or at least ensured she wasn’t home. I was still fuming with Zoe for not calling me, checking in. What if I had stayed away all weekend? Clover would have been alone. Anything might have happened. Even I didn’t buy that. She was safe here, my home was safe, but that wasn’t the point.
The days following her tipping red wine in a designer bag and adding a very expensive bra to the mix had been a little awkward for us both, although I still smiled every time I replayed that incident. She had externally behaved as if it hadn’t happened but when she didn’t think I was looking, I could see a sadness hanging over her and suspected I was the cause of it, although the anniversary of Glen’s death was looming large over us both.
I was glad that she had her birthday and the associated celebrations tonight to distract her, even if only temporarily. She had bought a dress, shoes, and booked into a salon for her hair and make-up to be done. Having dismissed an actual party, she had settled on inviting her closest friends here. I had arranged catering, including some alcohol, but not enough to get the girls in trouble. Security downstairs were aware of the celebration and knew that if there were any issues they could call me or Zoe who was staying nearby. Zoe would be there sooner than me if there was an emergency early on in the evening, unlike me who would be on stage.
Entering the kitchen, she was putting glasses out. The combination of the location and how amazing she looked took my breath away and catapulted me back to that morning on the island.
She looked up and I couldn’t miss her drinking me in as I did her. She moved round until she stood before me and that is when I fully took in the sight of her. Her make-up was similar to that first night, as was her hair. She wore a dark green lace dress that finished just past her thighs. It fastened with a choker fastening that emphasised the cut-out detail that perfectly framed and showcased her ample breasts that tempted me, almost fully covered, just the hint of them, her cleavage barely there and yet, they drew me in, forbidding me to avert my gaze from the gentle heave and swell of them. Just as the island had taken me back to a different time, the memory of her covered nipple in my mouth, being pinched by my fingers and the mewls my touch coerced from her mouth. I was still staring at her breasts while my dick was already standing to attention.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be here to celebrate your birthday with you.” I needed to move away from thoughts that were anything other than innocent.
She waved my apology away. “We had breakfast, and lunch.” She smiled. “And you outdid yourself on gifts.”
I had been clueless in the gift buying stakes, but with help from Zoe and a couple of her friends, I’d bagged a decent haul. The gift she was now referring to was a bracelet she wore. It was a custom-made piece and contained a variety of charms, all of which were of personal significance to her. There was her birthstone and those of her parents, a pen to represent her father, a harp, the instrument her mother played, and between them was placed two halves of a heart, a shell to remember the holidays she’d been on and the shell collection she still had, a bike that I had ordered with sapphires to replicate the childhood bike she had loved and a piano, as she enjoyed the sound of my playing. I refused to be drawn on whether it was music played on the piano of the person playing that was the cause of her enjoyment. My favourite piece was the four-leaf clover, her namesake, my very own lucky charm.
“I’m glad you like them.” I felt unusually awkward and embarrassed at her gratitude, but I had at least managed to focus on her face rather than ogling and drinking her in.
“I love it.” She fingered the bracelet between her thumb and forefinger, and I would have put money on the fact that it was the piano charm between those digits.
Something akin to hope and confidence bloomed in my chest.
“Would you play something for me, if you have time?” She looked across at the clock hanging on the wall.
“Of course. Would you help with this?” I flapped the loose ends of my bow tie hanging at my neck.
