Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
S lumping onto the bed, I debated over whether or not to answer mother’s call. I let it ring out, but she forced my decision when she rang again. She wouldn’t give up. I counted out the rings—six, seven, ten. It went on forever. My relief when it stopped was short-lived because it rang yet again.
Biting back frustration, I jabbed the green button. “Hello, Mother.”
“Daisy, you answered. How lovely.”
I wanted to say it wasn’t lovely at all, she’d given me no choice, but I bit back my response, choosing instead to remain silent. Mother would fill in the silence anyway.
“I’m so glad I got you, Daisy. I’m really sick.”
She did sound ill.
During my childhood, I’d seen mother apply makeup to enhance her pale skin and darken her rimmed eyes to fool many unsuspecting men with her pretend illnesses. But her voice had never lied. Now, though, it sounded like she’d eaten a rusty razor blade.
“I can’t stop vomiting. ”
Pacing the room back and forth, listening to her wheezing, I wished I felt even an ounce of sympathy for her. What did that make me? Callous? Evil?
While she rambled on in disjointed sentences punctuated with bouts of wheezing that sounded painful, unprecedented levels of concern for her filtered through me.
Was I about to lose my only family member?
And if I was, was I ready?
There was no possible way to answer those questions. For years, Mother had already been dead to me. Now that she really was close to death, it had a different meaning.
After a bout of coughing that ended with her crying, my resolve crumbled. “You’ll be okay, Mom.”
I hadn’t called her Mom since I left Australia all those years ago. I’d taken to calling her mother instead; it seemed more appropriate for a woman I didn’t love.
“No, Daisy. That’s what you don’t understand. I’m not okay.” She burst into a wracking cough. When the phone went dead, my mind went into overdrive analyzing why she would have hung up.
I felt awful. She really was sick, and I’d showed no compassion. What kind of a daughter was I?
I needed Zali. Keying in a quick text to say hello, I hit send.
Hey, luvvy, I was just thinking about you. How you going?
Not so good. Mother phoned me
Shit. What’s up with her?
She’s dying
Good. So, what else is new?
No, she really is dying. I think I should go to her
Again? I thought we’d been over that
Yeah. But you don’t understand. I feel like I should at least see her. She’s the only family I have
Her reply wasn’t instant. I stared at the phone, waiting, watching. I reread what I’d written, worried that I’d offended her. I readied to write an apology when my phone buzzed.
Sorry. Mom tipped her spag bol onto her lap. She’s playing with it now
Oh no. Sorry, Zali
Nah, she’s having fun. Nothing that a wet sponge won’t fix
Zali had amazing patience. I wasn’t sure I could cope with what she was going through.
Daisy, your mother may be the only BLOOD relative you have, but she’s not family. True family cares for each other. Does anything for each other. Love each other. Your mother stopped being your family years ago. Maybe even when you were a little kid
I started nodding as I was reading. She was right.
I know. But it’s still weird knowing I’m about to lose my only last living relative
That you know of
Her reply was swift .
That was also true.
You probs have 20 stepbrothers or sisters you don’t even know of yet
I huffed.
Maybe
Not just maybe, highly likely. So, forget about your mother. Besides, I’m all the family you need. And Roman. How is that sexy hunk?
I smiled as I pictured him and told her about our night together and the nightclub.
Wait. Stop! You never dance
I know, right? It was fun
A guy who can get you dancing must be pretty special
Roman was special.
He’s still hurting from what his ex did. I’ve tried to talk to him but he clams up. And I haven’t been able to hook him up with anyone yet
Sounds like it’s time for super Daisy
Super Daisy?
Yeah, you know, the one who gets the smoking-hot stable manager to cum all over her
EEEWWWWW
Don’t act like you didn’t get your rocks off
Well, yeah, I did. But you make it sound so dirty
Oh stop it. You loved it
Doesn’t mean I have to talk about it
Why not? It’s fun
Actually…
. . I flopped backward onto my bed. The springs creaked beneath me.
What? What?
I haven’t told you what happened today
You’re killing me
It took me a good ten minutes to text her all about Count Frederik and our steamy hot tub.
OMFG. I want just a little bit of what you’re having
Sorry, babe
Don’t you go fucking apologizing. I’m living through you, remember? It’s just a shame I don’t have any photo evidence
I burst out laughing.
Nice try. Not happening. Anyway, sorry but I have to go. I’m off to the fancy-dress banquet. You remember the one at the castle?
Oh, goodie. You going to get Roman with that boob squish thing again?
Hell no
He liked it. You know that
Hmmm. I pictured his reaction to my attempted drunken kiss. He absolutely did not like it. But Zali would only disagree. Sidestepping a response, I sent a final text.
Gotta go. Chat tomorrow. Love you
Luv ya too
Tossing the phone onto the side table, I dashed into the restroom. Aware that I was already late, I jumped in the shower and was out again in minutes. I put my hair into a messy bun at the back of my head, tugging out a few bangs so they fell around my face.
There wasn’t enough time to put on full makeup so I opted for just foundation, a touch of rouge, and my new favorite accessory—berry-pink lipstick. Now to the dress. I plucked it from the bed and froze. In my haste to be prepared, I’d forgotten one vital fact. I needed help doing up the dress.
Damn it.
For the briefest of moments, I contemplated skipping out on the banquet, but then I pictured Roman waiting for me downstairs, and the stupid idea evaporated. I tugged on the dress and pulled up the sleeves. But without the bodice lace done up, it fell forward, leaving nothing to the imagination.
Desperate times . . .
I put on my shoes, grabbed my room key and bag, and with one arm securing the red satin corset in place over my bust, I exited my room in search of help .
With my bare back exposed, and without a bra keeping me contained, I felt utterly naked. Everything wobbled as I made it down the circular stairs, hoping like all hell I didn’t trip over the dress on the way down the keep. In the back of my mind, I recalled that Count Frederik owned this part of the castle, and I couldn’t decide if it would be good or bad to bump into him right now.
At the bottom, I stepped out into the hall and gasped. Count Frederik was right there like he’d been waiting for me to come down the stairs. Shit! Maybe he’d heard my rustling skirts and huffing breath. “Oh, hi.” Keeping my arms over my chest, I did a small hand wave like a bloody idiot.
His expression wobbled between marveled and horrified. I must’ve looked a sight, half-dressed and running around like a desperado.
“Daisy, what a pleasure.”
My. My. My. The hottie in the hot tub was equally as hot in the hallway.
He was dressed in black pants and a white shirt, with a gunmetal gray vest over the top, tying it all together. His hair curled in waves around his face and his eyes were exquisite. He was even more handsome in this light, in a royal rogue kind of way. He was regal and enchanting, with just a touch of recklessness to him. A recklessness that danced across his eyes as his gaze explored me up and down.
He looked so debonair I was sure he would’ve kissed the back of my hand if I wasn’t desperately trying to keep myself covered. Ironic, really, given that thirty minutes ago he was holding my naked breasts in his hands. And kissing them. And sucking my nipples.
“Do you need a hand?”
Ahhh yeah. Two of them, on me and in me, please.
Jaysus, I’m a total fruitcake. I cleared my throat, and attempting to tame my raging pussy, I said, “Would you mind? I ummm . . .”
“Turn around.”
Swallowing so loud I was certain he would’ve heard it, I turned with my bare back to him. With his hot breath teasing my neck and my nipples peaking until they were set to spear through the corset, Frederik tugged the strings one by one, inching higher and higher up my back.
He remained silent and I had to work on continuing to breathe as I experienced one of the most sensuous moments of my life. As discreetly as could possibly be, I lifted my boobs into position as he pulled at the final loops and knotted the cord in place.
His lips brushed my neck, just the briefest of touches, and I nearly imploded at the gloriousness of it.
“All done.”
When I turned to him, his expression confirmed that he, too, thought we’d just had a moment. Maybe we should continue this moment in my room? My pulse pounded out an excited beat at that thought, and a blaze of desire heated my chest and neck.
Concerned I wouldn’t be able to speak, I cleared my throat. “Thank you.”
He nodded. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, then he turned on his heel and disappeared up the stairs. I was two seconds off chasing after him when I remembered Roman was waiting for me. Taking a second or two, I fanned myself and inhaled a few breaths, trying to settle my raging horny bits.
Lordy. Lordy. Life was good.
I made it down to the banquet hall just after they’d finished the first course. Feeling like a million dollars, I grinned like a woman who’d just been propositioned, lifted my skirt, and strode into the room .
Scanning for Roman, I just about died when I saw him seated between two women—Laura and Susan.
He hadn’t saved me a seat.
I couldn’t comprehend it. My heart skidded to a halt. And for that one split second, I felt cheated. My reaction was so, so wrong. And yet there it was, strangling me with the insanity of it. Roman was my coworker. We were just friends, nothing more.
So why did I feel like I’d been punched in the gut?
Scraping my rampant thoughts together, I forced my feet to move and strolled behind the guests’ chairs, making a point of saying hello to everyone. I waved at Roman across the other side, giving him an all-good-here grin that I’d perfected over the years.
On Roman’s left was Laura, and for the first time since I’d met her, she was actually smiling. Roman was gifted like that.
I was happy for her. She deserved to have some relief from the turmoil she’d been going through. It made my stupid jealousy even more embarrassing.
Shoving my immature emotions aside, I made my way to the spare chair between Juanita, one of the four Spanish tourists on this tour, and Karabo, one of the South African twins.
By the time I’d gulped down my first champagne, I was exhausted, and I couldn’t decide if it was because of my adrenalin rushes with Count Frederik or my overactive brain trying to evaluate my fixation on Roman.
Forcing myself to shift gear, I turned my attention to my wing-woman position for Roman and got to know the two ladies beside me a bit better. But it was an uphill battle as I spent the entire night watching Roman and his interaction with the women instead.
He was so lovely with Laura that every time he touched his hand to her arm, she giggled. Maybe she wasn’t going to have such a hard time getting over Richard after all.
Susan, however, was pulling out all the moves to get his attention—fluttering her eyelashes, giggling, touching him . . . his forearm, his bicep. Each time her hand went beneath the table, I imagined she was touching his leg.
Roman looked to be enjoying every minute, laughing and talking non-stop. Maybe I’d been wrong about Susan. Maybe she was just right for him after all. She was young and beautiful. And fun. I’d bet she was a good dancer too. And I knew she could eat well—I’d seen her polish off more than her share at the high tea.
Good on him.
He deserved to be happy.
The evening was nowhere near as much fun as last month, and I excused myself after dessert, making a point of saying goodnight to everyone, including Roman. He frowned at me, giving me that where-are-you-going look and I touched my brow, feigning a headache.
Pausing at the kitchen, I asked Nina to help me out of the dress, and she was lovely enough to come to my room. She chatted incessantly about all sorts of trivial things, and I thought she’d never leave.
By the time I crawled into bed, I really did have a headache.
My thoughts spun like a giant Ferris wheel, slow and monotonous. They lobbed between trying to figure out what my obsession with Roman was, to comprehending my ‘moment’ with Frederik, all while struggling with what to do with my mother.
And on top of it all was that ticking clock counting down my time in Europe.
Tick. Tick. Tick.