Chapter 24 - Blanche
Chapter twenty-four
I’ve never been much of a morning person, but with a large coffee in hand, I find myself awake and excited to get to the office early.
Some of my and Henry’s best sex has been over his desk before the rest of the staff arrive, and considering I’ve been without him for two whole days, I’m insatiable.
I can’t help but chuckle when I arrive to a dark office. It wouldn’t be the first time Henry waited to turn the lights on.
“Hot coffee in my hand! I’m going to set it down on your desk really quick, and then it’s game o— John?”
He takes the coffee from my hand before sitting heavily in Henry’s chair. “Morning, Blanche.”
“Um…what are you doing here? Is this some game you and—”
“I’m going to stop you right there. As lovely as you are, dear, I don’t know what kind of game you’re talking about. I do know that Henry would kill me if he even thought I was flirting with you without his permission.”
“Then what—”
“He’s sick. Asked me to fill in for him. Told me to let you know that you’ve got the week off,” John says, handing me an envelope. “Here, this is for you. I think it’s some spa experience out of town for you and Pam.”
“Oh, um…Well, I guess I’ll…thank you?”
“Yeah, take off! I have the office under control. Go have fun. Henry said he should be back next Monday.”
As soon as I’m out of the building, I open the envelope to see a pamphlet with the details of a spa excursion, only to find that it’s not so little after all.
A seven-night, all-inclusive stay in Jamaica at one of the top-rated spas in the world, along with airfare and a personal driver.
This man really wants me out of the country for the next week.
“Excuse me, ma’am, I’m Martin, your driver for the day. I was told to stay with you until I drop you off at the airport tonight.”
“Oh, um…”
“Mr. Sinclair sent me, ma’am. For Miss Blanche Bedford. I believe there’s information about your driver in your travel plans.”
I flip through the pages, and sure enough, Martin’s name is listed with his picture.
I suppose I could get in the car, let this lovely man drive me home, pack with Pam, and go to a spa my mother has been salivating over for years.
Something isn’t right, though. Henry is up to something, and if he’s going to these lengths to keep me away, I know it can’t be good.
Fuck, Pam’s going to kill me for turning this down.
“Martin, you're such a dear. Would you mind swinging by Henry’s place before you take me home?” I ask, batting my eyelashes at the driver. “You see, he’s been planning this trip for me for a while and wanted to make sure we were able to…embrace one last time before I’m gone a whole week.”
“I wasn’t aware of such an arrangement. I was told to drive you to your apartment and—”
“Oh, it was his one stipulation for me to be gone for so long. You can imagine how hard it is for Mr. Sinclair to go so long without having…relations. I believe the longest he’s made it without ravishing me was only thirty-six hours. I’m half expecting him to bring the jet down to see me tomorrow.”
“I, um, wasn’t aware of this, but very well, Miss Blanche. My apologies,” Martin chokes out, while helping me into the car.
As he assumes the driver’s position, I have a moment of panic.
I technically have no idea where Henry is right now or what he could be up to that has him so adamant about making sure I’m not around.
There’s a slight relief when Martin turns toward the downtown area, toward Henry’s place in the city.
At least I didn’t just demand to be driven to their family estate to crash some family dinner.
But with each passing minute, my relief subsides.
What could he possibly be trying to hide from me?
Surely, he would’ve invited me to any sexual escapades…
When we arrive, Martin parks the car in one of Henry’s reserved spots and waits as I make my way to the private elevator.
Alright, my code still works. I’ve been to Henry’s penthouse plenty of times, but after the roller coaster of possible scenarios that played through my mind on the way here, I wasn’t sure if I would still have access.
It feels like the elevator is moving in slow motion as it ascends to the top floor. Meanwhile, my heart is beating faster than ever. To my surprise, I’m greeted with a quiet, dimly lit foyer.
“Henry?”
My voice echoes, and I can hear the concern in my tone as it plays back to me.
I continue calling for him as I check the living areas before heading to his bedroom.
The door is closed, but I don’t bother knocking.
A scan of the room all but confirms he doesn’t have a lover hidden up here.
I can mark that off my list of possible reasons he wants me gone.
Instead, I’m met with Henry. He’s knocked out in his bed, in a somewhat tidy room.
From the door, I can see the pain meds and whiskey on his nightstand. Damn…maybe he really is sick.
I tiptoe to his bed and slowly lower myself down to sit on the edge of his mattress. He’s turned facing away from me, so I gently caress his shoulder to wake him. “Henry? Are you alright? John said you were sick.”
“Blanche?” he says, barely louder than a whisper.
“It’s me, I’m here.”
“You shouldn’t be here right now…”
“Henry? Let me see you, darling.” I try to turn his face to mine, but he refuses and yanks the comforter up to his chin, hiding like a bratty child.
“No!”
His voice is still weaker than usual, but he knows better than to speak to me in that tone. Before he can stop me, I pull back the comforter, only to reveal a battered body underneath.
“Henry!” I gasp.
“I told you to leave,” he growls, pulling the covers back up.
There’s anger in his eyes, but I’m too focused on the bruises and cuts across his swollen face.
I want to touch him, kiss him, but I’m too afraid I’ll hurt him more than he already is.
So instead, I just stare. His beautiful face is still there behind the distortion.
I’m not sure how a man can pull it off, but the ragged look gives him an edge of danger that’s just as sexy as his usual clean-cut look.
“Go ahead, tell me how disappointed in me you are.”
My brows furrow, confused at his anger. His eyes are devoid of any emotion, as if he’s closed himself off completely. It breaks my heart, and I can’t help but touch him.
“I could never be disappointed in you, my darling.” I gently caress his face, reveling in the way he leans into my touch. “Who did this to you, Henry?”
I swear to God, I’ll kill whoever did this to you, my love. They will never see the light of day again. I don’t care if I burn in hell for it. Nobody gets to hurt what belongs to me.
A soft smile breaks through his tough exterior as he takes my hand and kisses my knuckles. “Please don’t worry about it, baby. It was just a stupid fight with someone I had no business getting involved in. I’m sorry I—”
“Don’t you dare apologize to me, Henry Sinclair. I’ll take care of you while you heal. You’ll need—”
“No! No, I have plenty of staff to nurse me back to health.”
“But I want t—”
“You go enjoy your week with Pam.”
“But I—”
“Trust me, you won’t get many of them.”
“But—”
“Blanche, I’m fine, dear.” He sits up, pulling me tight in an embrace that I know has to hurt. “If you really want to make me feel better, you’ll go have a wonderful week.”
I pull back to search his eyes for the truth.
The real truth. One I’ve always been able to discern from this man.
I’ve always been able to see into his soul, and what I see now is a well of pain.
There is truth in his gaze, sure, but there’s also a facade.
One that’s been so carefully crafted it would almost fool even me.
I want to push. I want to make him admit what is really going on, but in this silence, he’s pleading with me not to.
“Alright, I guess I’ll go to one of the most sought-after resorts in the world. If I have to,” I say, trying my best to fake a genuine smile.
And when I get back, well. Heaven has no rage, nor hell a fury like Blanche Bedford when you hurt what’s hers.