Proserpina.
My husband returned sometime in the afternoon and after a quick shower, he closeted himself in this study along with Schwartz. Lucien Delano was his usual taciturn self, laconic when he was stressed as he irrefutably was, at this point in time. With just a brief, hard kiss that left me reeling with its intensity, he had walked away, his faithful Gustav behind him and a couple of his bodyguards keeping step as he headed for the elevator on his way up to our rooms at the top of the house for a shower and to change.
But his daughter managed to waylay him. Ria rushed to him, throwing her arms around him, and stopping him.
“Pumpkin,’ he growled as he kissed the top of her blonde head and then gently put her away from him. His face was soft with affection and I felt myself grow warm. This was my lover, the doting father, Lucien Delano.
What with the shooting of his aircraft, the threat to Philippe’s life, and the knowledge that his friend in Azerbaijan had been compromised, he was anything but relaxed.
I knew him well enough not to be disturbed by his lack of emotion and the way he had only acknowledged me with a kiss which was more like a stamp of possession. But James Schwartz was another matter altogether.
*
I smiled as James came to me, his eyes shining as he saw me.
‘He’s safe, hen,’ he grinned and pulled me into his arms, laughing in relief. I dimpled in joy and hugged him back, my arms going around his waist at once.
We stood like that, content in our shared joy at knowing that someone who was dear to us was safe. Still holding me lightly in the circle of his arms, Schwartz was recounting how Philippe was heading back to the US even as we were speaking. Lucien had seen to that.
It was the feeling of a pair of eyes boring into my back that made me push him away gently and turn. Lucien had emerged from his lair and stood, his face like stone, glaring at me.
Schwartz, undeterred as ever, grinned and strode forward to clap Lucien on his back.
‘Hey mate, so when is Philippe getting here?’ he grinned.
Lucien growled, turning away,’ This evening. Maybe midnight.’
I watched him, a hollow feeling in my belly.
*
Lucien never seemed to understand that James was my close friend and that was all he would ever be. James Schwartz was a contagious spirit, cheerful and happy. His handsome looks and the cheerfulness emanating from him were practically antipodean, for he was in looks and in spirit, diametrically opposite my husband. Unlike my husband who was dark and brooding and carried his darkness with him all the time, Schwartz was light and laughter.
And yet, I could not live without my Lucien…
*
We had decided to arrange a small dinner, a homecoming of sorts, for Philippe. But when I was informed by Beston that Philippe was going to be delayed because he was stopping over at the hospital in the Big Apple, for he had some injuries which involved tests, I decided to have a small dinner with my close friends and the children. Lucien wanted to make sure that the mild concussion that Philippe seemed to have suffered was not serious.
*
Lucien merely grunted when I peeked into his study to tell him about the dinner I was arranging. He looked up and gave me a look like thunder, his gaze trailing over me possessively and I walked up to him daringly, ignoring the fact that Beston, Schwartz, and a couple of his bodyguards were in attendance. Putting my hands on his shoulders, I kissed him gently, although he remained stiff and unresponsive. For effect, naughtily, I bit his lower lip hard and he put out a hand to grip my waist with one large hand, as he made a low threatening sound, fingers digging into the flesh on my waist, hurting me.
With a dimpled smile, I left the room, tossing my braid back over my shoulder, knowing, and feeling his hot gaze on me all the way to the door. I met Schwartz’s eyes and he winked languidly at me as I passed him, a grin on his handsome face.
*
I set about fixing dinner with my faithful Beatrice and Ria who had been bright and bubbly ever since she heard the news of her lover. The girl was literally dancing around as we fixed lunch.
Beatrice snapped at her but I could see that the old woman was only pretending to be irritated.
*
I knew that Lucien had sent his people to personally escort the Capo and his companion, the only survivor of the crash, back to the US. It had been an emotional moment for Philippe’s aged father when Lucien had got Philippe to speak to the old man, to see his son. The old man had sat on the kitchen stool, shoulders bent, holding my hand and weeping silently.
‘Thank you, thank you, Ma’am,’ he kept saying, over and over again. Ria had stood beside me, her own face wet with tears.
*
We had known Philippe’s family for years, ever since we moved into the house when the twins were around a year and a half. Having been the gardener for the sprawling grounds on the estate on which the large mansion was housed, he had been serving Lucien for years and he was another of the people who believed that Lucien was nothing but another form of God. He literally worshipped my husband who had interceded to save the older man a long while ago in the past. He lived on the grounds with his family, in a small cottage. While his sons, the younger brothers of Philippe, had also been placed in lucrative posts in other parts of the world with Lucien’s influence, the old man had been steadfast in his desire to remain here, in the small cottage he had shared with his wife and family. His wife had passed a while ago but the old man still supervised the other gardeners.
*
I wanted to throw my arms around my husband who, for all his rough exterior, truly cared for his people, for his men. Schwartz had also come to the kitchen, settling in his easy amicable way on the table, watching me cook, his eyes on my hands as I deftly cut up the vegetables and the meat, marinating the chicken to make it tender in preparation for the spicy Indian dish, Biriyani.
A happy blend of spices with rice and chicken, it was a delicious dish and my children could eat huge canisters if they were left to themselves. Lucien also had a fondness for it; it was one of the only times when he ate rice with relish.
I placed the large bowl of marinated meat to the side and began to chop up the chillies and mix the spices in preparation for the final cooking.
And after seeing the slight irritation on his face, I wanted to make my husband smile. Something told me that he was annoyed and I could guess why.
*
Sighing, I placed the large bowl of marinated chicken in the fridge and began to prepare the rice. Ria was in a corner of the large kitchen, munching on a carrot and giggling. She was, I thought indulgently, chatting with Philippe who was in the hospital.
Tucking my hair behind my ear, I smiled: young love.
*
Lucien
He had been speaking to the people at the new Club and also following the work on the third and the most remote one that was going to be opening in spring. He turned to look at Gustav as the man appeared bearing a canister of coffee.
“Mix my drink,’ he snapped and the valet silently moved to the bar cabinet.
He was feeling vaguely irritated. His Woman. She was HIS. Only his.
He knew that he had no cause to suspect that his Woman would have an affair with anyone, least of all James Schwartz. But every time he saw them together, the easy companionship they shared, the way they laughed at the same jokes, it made him feel jealous.
Hell, the fact that his Woman was closer in age to Schwartz and they shared the same interests, only made it worse.
Now he flung back the coffee laced with whiskey and growled,
“Where is he? Schwartz?’ Gustav looked silently to the door and Lucien rose to his feet swiftly, his face a mask of fury.
He was going to see what his Woman and his best friend were up to.
*
James Schwartz was staring at the bowl, a brooding, faraway look on his face. I smiled at him gently and asked softly,
‘Why the long face, James? Aiyana is here, isn’t she? You could go home and bring her along tonight.’
He shook his head, a weariness passing like a shadow over his handsome face.
And then he raised his eyes, a dark, intense look in them as he opened his mouth to speak. I felt a shudder of fear ripple through me; whatever it was that James was about to say, I had a gut feeling that I was not going to like it.
But at that very moment, Lucien’s voice boomed from the doorway,
‘The f*ck longer do I have to wait for you, Schwartz? Or are you going to keep flirting with my Woman all day?’
We both looked around guiltily. I felt my face flush. My husband had a look of anger on his harsh craggy countenance and I felt my heart sink.
Not again, I thought wearily.
Schwartz had stiffened at Lucien’s words but I sent him a look, beseeching him not to react.
Schwartz shrugged and grinned, his lopsided smile as he said,
“Ah, mate. She is too beautiful for a man to be able to resist trying his charm now and then.’
Ria and Beatrice had also stopped to watch. Lucien threw me another dark look before he left the doorway and with a shrug and a wink, James loped off after him, grabbing Beatrice to drop a kiss on her leathery cheek as he made his way out.
‘When there are so many beautiful women in one room, a man can be forgiven for dallying, eh, Bea?’ he grinned and I could not help but laugh as I saw old Beatrice blushing like a bride.
“Go on, you!’ she snapped.