Worlds Apart Ch. 03

"Danae, stop!" Her rapid footsteps followed me to the door.

I did stop, but not until I was on the front stoop. I turned to her, fighting against the tears forming in my eyes. "I came here looking for support, not a critique on my poor life choices."

My best friend crossed her arms. "That's not what I said, and you know it."

"No, but it's what you meant. It always has been."

"You're being irrational," Cristal huffed.

"Am I? All the times you've tried to set me up? I'm not blind. I know you think I must be unhappy being single because you were. But I'm not you, Cristal. I never will be."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

A tear trickled down my cheek. "I'm just asking you to please stop trying to change me."

"Sorry, I'm an interior decorator. It's my job to change things. For the better."

The sight and sound of the door shutting in my face felt eerily like a book being closed. Had I just ruined my friendship over a guy I had decided I didn't even want to be with?

###

I had heard my phone beep while I was driving home. But I didn't check the messages until I had pulled into my parking spot at my apartment.

Cristal: I'm sorry. I only want what's best for you. Please forgive me.

This wasn't our first fight, but it was the one that hurt the most. I couldn't get past the image—the sound—of that door shutting. I wasn't in the mood to be merciful yet. To just forgive and forget. I'd done that way too many times, especially with her. Maybe she'd finally realize I had feelings too, and saying you're sorry when you've damaged someone's self-esteem didn't always make everything all better again. It was like putting a bandage on a wound that needed stitches.

The three dots appeared on the text message screen indicating she was typing. They disappeared, reappeared, and then disappeared again. After watching the clock on the screen indicate that two minutes had passed and no other message came through, I locked the car and went inside.

I realized it was silent—cool—after I deposited my purse and keys on the hall table. Much like Vincente's suite was. His literal man cave. Like a snake creating its nest to return to after chasing its prey. That thought made me shiver.

I left the lights off and wandered across the living room. Still wearing my cocktail dress, I curled up on the couch and stared at the blank TV. My eyelids were growing heavy, and I was about to give into the lure of sleep when my phone dinged that I had a new message.

Cristal: He has some physical abnormality that makes you squeamish, doesn't he? Like three nipples, missing toes, or a hairy back. I get it, girl. No need to explain. Sorry again for being a bitch.

Oh, she had no idea how right she was. On all accounts.

I considered responding, but I couldn't think of what to say. A moment later, a new message bubble popped up on the screen.

Cristal: Text me later if you're not still mad at me. I'm putting my phone on silent. Hubby wants to try out that new K-Y warming lube. *giggle*

"Way too much information." I grimaced and tossed the phone to the other end of the couch. Of course, my mind went south as I thought of sex. Which led to thinking about Vincente. Ugh.

My stomach grumbled, but I didn't have the energy to call in takeout or wait for it to arrive. I should have picked up something on the way home. Damn it. I took a hot shower instead and then crawled between the cool sheets of my bed, fully naked. Yet for all my exhaustion, I could not fall asleep.

I stared at the ceiling of my bedroom, imagining flickering shadows from candles. My mattress felt hard. I missed the luxurious feeling of fur against my bare skin. A hot body pressing up against mine from behind in post-coital bliss.

The sobs started quietly. They intensified the more I thought about Vincente. About how it felt when he touched me. When I touched him.

Was I crazy to turn down his offer?

No! It was exactly as I'd told Cristal. What person in their right mind would set aside their entire life for someone they just met? Even if that person was amazing—albeit strange.

The more I thought about it, though, the more I could picture being with him. Hosting and attending parties. The sex alone made the proposal worth reconsidering. Maybe he would compromise. It couldn't hurt to ask him to give me time to get to know him better. Because Cristal had been right about one thing: I wasn't happy just being a secretary. I wanted more, especially since meeting Vincente.

I rolled over and pressed my face into my pillow, my body shivering as the air conditioning kicked on. I had never felt so alone in my life. Maybe things would be better in the morning.

###

The next week was torturous. The days were manageable. With tax season, the phones were ringing off the hook at work. A wonderful distraction from my thoughts.

But the nights? I cried myself to sleep, every one of them. Woke up each morning in a tangled mess of sheets. My throat feeling parched. And no matter what I drank, my thirst was not quenched.

Then there were the dreams. They were a mixture of haunting, vivid memories of sex and nightmares of being chased by overgrown snakes and other reptiles. And I kept imagining I was living in the cult-classic, "The Lost World" by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Mr. Sherlock Holmes himself.

After just two days, I admitted that it had to have been more than the wine that had caused my body to be drawn to Vincente. Yes, the contents of the liquor fed my desire. But there was connection there before I'd had my first sip. It was undeniable.

By Friday, I thought I really was going crazy. I'd managed to get through work, but I paced the length of my small living room so many times that evening, I was sure I'd walked a couple of miles. Of course, sleep did not come when I forced myself to go to bed. I tried masturbating, but that only made me cry harder because I kept imagining Vincente was there. Helping me ease that ache.

I cried out my anguish to the dark of the night, thrashing on the bed in anger and frustration. There was only one answer. I had to accept my own fate. Or at least see where it led.

###

The sun was just peeking over the horizon when I pulled my car up to the massive iron fence. Before I even got my window down, one side of the gate silently swept open. Huh.

The drive up the winding tree-lined road seemed longer than before. Or maybe I was just driving slower. I parked next to the elaborate, graduated three-tiered fountain in the middle of the circular drive. A week ago, crystal-clear water had danced against the spotlights that had been trained on it. Rivulets trickling over the scalloped edges between each level before pooling in the basin adorned with colorful water lilies that had closed up tight for the night amongst floating, emerald green pads.

Now, the water was still. The flowers and their bed of leaves were absent. The fountain was just a lifeless, murky existence. Much like I'd felt the past six days.

With a deep sigh, I unfolded myself from my car and popped the trunk. Then I was standing on the landing of the ornately tiled steps that led up the front walkway. I felt dwarfed by the massive door to the estate as my hand hovered over the doorbell. Had I made the wrong decision? Maybe I should leave before it was too late.

But again, before I could make a choice, there was the snicking sound of two locks being turned. I held my breath when the door opened, creaking like from an old horror movie. I was prepared to deliver my speech, but my words died on the tip of my tongue.

An older man in a dark suit stood in the narrow opening, his hands clasped in front of him. "Madame Danae, the master has been anticipating your return. He will be most pleased you have arrived."

I stared at the butler, the same one who had let me in last week. So formal. Another reminder that I was out of my league here. He must have been the one who had opened the gate. Had he been watching for my arrival all this time? I had assumed he'd been hired, like the valets, to impress the guests. Proven wrong yet again. It made me wonder if there was other staff on hand. And did they all know about me?

The door opened wider, and the butler stepped aside. When I didn't move, he held out a hand. "May I take your bags, Madame?"

My voice finally caught up. "Thank you..."

"Gaspard."

I nodded with a soft smile. "Thank you, Gaspard."

He took the handles of my suitcase and the shoulder bag I had set down at my feet, rolling the former into the foyer before I finally stepped inside. The hall was dark except for three sconces glowing lowly, one by the stairway, and two others flanking the gilded mirror on the opposite wall. The space looked gloomy. So unlike the night of the party or even the day after.

I waited until Gaspard closed the door and secured the locks again. Then I followed him up the winding staircase to the third floor. My heartbeat seemed to thump harder the further we climbed. My breathing became shallower. And then we were standing outside of the double doors to the master's private quarters. The mini castle within a modern mansion.

Gaspard pressed a button on the keypad. There was no sound for several minutes. Then the door nearest us started to open as a voice heavy with sleep and sadness called out.

"Did I not give explicit orders to not to disturb me?"

"Yes, Sir."

Vincente fully stood in the doorway now, dark pants his only clothing. He opened his mouth, probably to continue his admonishment, but his eyes shifted over his butler's shoulder. The piercing blue orbs stared at me. Blinked slowly. Then he suddenly stepped forward with a gasp. "Danae!"

My cheeks heated, and I wanted to lower my gaze. To apologize for bothering him at such an hour. But all I could do was gaze into the seemingly endless depths of his eyes. Feel the dampness gathering between my legs.

He held out his hand, palm up. The coldness of his fingers wrapped around mine when I placed my hand in his. Then he tugged gently, urging me forward.

I followed, stepping past Gaspard without a sideways glance. From somewhere behind me, I heard the rolling and soft scuffing sounds of my luggage being moved into the suite. The door closing. And then the only sound was the rapid beat of my heart in my ears combined with my heavy breathing while Vincente led me across the vast sitting area, lit by a single candle on the fireplace mantle.

He paused at a table where a full carafe of blood wine sat with two empty glasses. He started to release my hand, but I squeezed his, shaking my head. I licked my lips, swallowing. I didn't want the wine tonight. Not yet. I had to know first...

His groan met my ears. He raised my hand instead, pressing his now warm lips against my skin. Then we were moving again. He walked backwards toward the dark hall on the other side of the room, as though afraid I would disappear if he looked away. He only stopped once we reached the bedroom.

Void now of candlelight, the shadows enveloped us completely. Even more so after he shut the door.

"Danae..." His voice was so deep. Thick with emotion. Reaching out to me from the darkness.

"Vincente, I'm sorry...I..." I choked on the words I wanted to say to him. The reason for my departure. The delay of my return. The desires of my heart and the hope that he could fulfill them.

"Shh, my love."

I couldn't see him at all, but I felt him. How he gently cupped the side of my face—making me sigh—stroking his thumb over the rise of my cheekbone. I worried my lip as his other hand mirrored his touch. Then he tilted my head back. His lips skimmed over mine, and I gasped.

There was no pressure behind the kiss, but it rocked me to my core. My entire body trembled. I reached up and grasped both of his forearms, whimpering.

Again, he gave me the chastest of kisses. Held my head still as I clung to him. Repeated the motion.

"Please..." I whispered as he withdrew just a few inches once more. I whimpered again. Felt my knees grow weak. Licked at my dry lips and swore my tongue grazed his lips. I needed him so much it hurt.

"My sweet, sweet Danae." His breath warmed my lips. "You do not know what your absence has done to me. You are in no position to beg. But I do so adore hearing the hunger in your voice. Do not stop on my account. Know, though, that I will not be remiss in acquiescing to your wishes."

###

I lost track of time. Was it still Saturday? Or the end of the weekend already? Every minute...every hour...they merged into one continuous haze of absolute pleasure.

My body was contorted in ways I'd never thought possible. Vincente's tongue and fingers had touched places I'd never let anyone else dare. And throughout it all, my hunch was confirmed: something natural drew us together like nothing I'd ever experienced.

I released sounds I'd never known possible when he prolonged his ministrations. Building me up until I felt delirious, like I would break into a million pieces if he kissed, licked, or thrust into me one more time. He consoled me in his arms while I wept, only to repeat the cycle after I'd stopped thrashing beneath him.

After several hours, I mumbled for him not to touch me for a while—to let my nerves recharge. He finally gave me a bit of respite. Maybe because I had accepted the glass of blood wine when he'd said I must drink something, else I get too dehydrated from exertion. Or because I'd stopped begging him to touch me like this or kiss me like that and had completely bent to his will.

Whatever his reason, I used the break to explain that I needed more time to get to know him better. To decide what exactly this meant for me. I insisted that I would return to my job Monday morning, but I would stay with him. Live with him for now to try it out, hence my suitcase. To my relief, he agreed to my suggestion.

Then he rang for Gaspard to bring us some food. Vincente fed me while I lay naked upon the furs, making me feel a lot like a goddess. The perfect counterpart to his god-like persona.

After we had eaten, I floated on the edge of sleep. Complacent with my decision to return. To stay.

"Come with me, Danae."

I moaned as his finger trailed along the back of my shoulders. "Where are we going?"

"Marseille."

"Huh. In France?"

"Oui."

"Can I take a nap first? I'm really tired."

He chuckled. "Yes, my love. We will not go right now. But soon."

I snuggled deeper against him. He was comfort to me. Something I had not known I craved. Missed since our parting. But what was lost was now found. "Why are we going there?"

"What better way to learn about me than through meeting my family?"

I inhaled, held my breath for a moment, and then let it out slowly. All or nothing, right? "Okay."

###

My phone had been on silent all weekend. When I'd gotten around to checking it, I had twenty missed texts. All from Cristal.

The one-sided conversation started with an apology for slamming the door in my face—not that she'd bruised my ego by claiming I needed a man. Then she asked why I wouldn't I forgive her, especially since she had said she was sorry. There were a few ramblings about her activities since we'd last talked. And true to Cristal's nature, the last text was a quip about how she could take a hint that my extended silence meant I didn't have time for her or need her anymore.

I was going to respond that I was taking her advice and finding my own happiness. I was even going to apologize...but only that my phone had been off. Something in me had just had enough, though. I knew that if I told her I was back with Vincente, she'd rub it in that if it hadn't been for her, we wouldn't have even met.

I kept going back to one of her texts that pleaded for me to see reason.

What I saw was someone I'd known for years but who I didn't really know. She was so into herself. I realized that maybe our friendship had run its course. I was grateful for her inviting me to the party, but she wasn't getting all of the credit. She may have introduced us, but I chose to come back. To be here.

After a little waffling, I responded that I'd had a busy week and was taking some time to disconnect from life this weekend. Only I got an error that the number I had tried to reach was no longer available. She had blocked my number because I hadn't texted when she wanted me to? What a bitch! If I needed confirmation that I'd made the right decision to break away from that relationship, I'd gotten it!

Monday morning found me going back at work, much to Vincente's chagrin. He growled when I crawled out of bed to get ready. Huffed when I insisted he either give me the code or get up to let me out of the suite. And then his kiss was half-assed when he finally picked option two. Maybe he'd thought a weekend of passionate sex would change my mind. But it was going to take a whole lot more than that to convince me to quit my job.

He was in a better mood when he saw I'd returned right after work, as promised. We ate our first meal together at his dining room table. Afterwards, I met his private chef, André, and learned Vincente had two maids—Giselle and Corrine—as well as a gardener, Pierre. They all lived in the house, too, but on the second floor. At least the rest of the rooms weren't going to waste.

I asked Pierre about the missing water lilies. He glared at Vincente before giving me a smile, saying he would be sure to replace them the next day. Apparently, the master had said they reminded him too much of me, and he hadn't wanted any reminders of my beauty. Hence the derelict fountain on my return. The darkened foyer.

Vincente just grunted his assent to bring the place back to life. Then he practically dragged me upstairs. He stripped me in the sitting area of his suite before carrying me to his bed. There, he tossed me onto the furs and yanked his pants down to reveal his erection capped with bulbous head, leaking his arousal.

We made love surrounded by candlelight. Exploring each other's bodies, discovering our special spots. And like the two previous nights, he cradled me in his arms. This time, I fell into a dreamless sleep.

The rest of the week was the same. Work, dinner, sex, sleep. I could easily get used to that cycle.

All of my free time was spent with my mysterious man. Most of it was naked in his bed, but we did talk quite a bit about our lives, especially our childhoods. I lay rapt by his side while he described meeting famous people I'd only heard of in textbooks. The horrors of war. The excitement of when new inventions were discovered.

Before I knew it, three weeks had passed, and we were finally on a plane crossing the Atlantic. I was immersed in a culture I'd only read about or seen on TV. The French were not snobbish at all. Rather, they were very polite. Respect begat respect. And having a handsome man by my side who spoke the language didn't hurt.

Vincente kept my hands held between his during the limo ride from the airport. I was shaking so badly, he thought I was having a seizure. I'd convinced him it was just nerves. But truthfully, it was more like a panic attack.

I had not known what to expect as we were driven far out into the countryside by his grandparents' chauffeur. Did he worry as I did? He was bringing home a different species, not just a girl, to meet his grandparents for the first time. Sure, his mother had been human, but she had been dead for almost half a millennium. What would they think of me? I knew no other family members would be present, but impressing the patriarch and matriarch? That was a huge undertaking for a nobody such as me.

We rounded a hill, and suddenly my jaw dropped. The estate appeared like a stone fortress on the horizon. Spreading out and up, pillars and arches defining the entrance...the gardens surrounding it.