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Duplicity Ch. 00

By: partial2passion



A man runs fast through the woods.

The freezing temperatures of the tiny village in central Siberia made it hard to breathe... It actually hurt to breathe. He was covered from head to toe in protective gear. Without it his blood would stop flowing and frostbite would set in.

He'd been running for so long. He wanted to stop but he couldn't. He had a bullet wound to his shoulder; he needed to remove before infection set in. He was glad he wasn't bleeding profusely, his blood was probably afraid of the cold. 

Even through his shielded ski goggles, the bright white snow irritated his retinas. 

He was sweating inside the suit and his adrenaline pumped as he ran. He couldn't let them see him. He ran until he saw a stream. He found an overbank and slipped through into it. 

As he waited his breathing was labored and he knew he didn't have much time left. With each breath he took, it felt like he was inhaling pins and needles. His nostril hairs were frozen. Pretty soon he would get sluggish from the lack of oxygen. The severe cold could easily slip through a crack in his gear. 

His shoulder had gone numb from the pain. He hadn't eaten in a day and even then it was just a can of beans from his pack. This morning he washed down 3 aspirin with the last of his water. The aspirin would help maintain blood flow to his extremities and lower his chances of needing amputations from frostbite. What he wouldn't do for a warm bed and a hot meal right now.

He waited an hour in the dugout and hoped to God they left. He slipped out and noticed the sun had gone down. 

Now the clock was really ticking. 

Oymiakon was the coldest inhabited place on earth. It was known for recording, -70 degree temperatures. His heavy boots crunched on the hard snow as he walked along the side of the stream. He was sure they were gone now.

Ironically to his left was the infamous Road of Bones created during the Stalin regime. The slave laborers were literally worked to death while building it. 

One for every meter... they would collapse and die from the horrible work conditions. Each time a person died, they would just leave them on the road. The barbaric soldiers would simply bulldoze the dead into the mixture. 

The Road of Bones got its name from the millions of lives forever engraved inside and all around it.

As the scarce sunlight retreated, it left traces of bright rays on that very path. It gleamed as a reminder; you can try to cover up the past but when the light shines it's impossible to forget.

He couldn't be one of them... one of the fallen. He didn't know where the will to survive came from but he just knew there wasn't any other possibility.

The Evergreen trees mocked him as they stood tall and proud; they carried loads of heavy mushy snow and still remained standing.

Tall and proud.

He looked up towards the clear gray sky and the snow covered ground seemed to mesh together. There was an eerie gray light that bounced from the ground to the heavens. 

It was disturbingly quiet. No doubt a reminder that nothing living remained. 

He squint his eyes and thought he saw a single smoke cloud coming from the distance. His stride became a little more forceful and he swung his unwounded arm a little wider. He would need the extra blood flow if he was going to make it. 

When he finally arrived at the small cabin he was glad it wasn't a mirage. Someone was definitely home and he could almost feel the warmth radiating off the house. He found the entrance and door which had been recently salted and cleared of snow. He pounded on the door with the last strength he had left. 

No one answered. He leaned against the door utterly tired and sleepy. With no longer having control of his body, his eyes closed and he blacked out.

___________

When he woke he thought he was in hell. 

There was a large fire blaring in the distance. Everything was blurry and the heat was suffocating. He felt like he was swallowing burning coals. He coughed and shook as a chill ran through him. 

Why was he so tired? He had a throbbing headache.

He felt so sluggish that he couldn't even open his eyes. But he heard mumbling around him, he couldn't make out what they were saying. He fell asleep again. 

When he woke the second time, he felt small warm hands hugging him from behind under the thick blankets. Soft small breasts caressed his back and he thought maybe he wasn't in hell after all. 

He tried to move but he couldn't. He slowly opened his eyes and realized he was stripped of his gear and clothes, bathed and wore thermal underwear. The fresh scent of soap invaded his nostrils. He could also smell the delicate smell of the woman behind him. 

For the first time he noticed his shoulder was patched and wrapped in a long bandage. He had to move quickly because by now they had found his weapons. 

It hurt to move his arm but he succeeded. The small hands still clung tightly to him. He heard a small whimper and he was sure he was dragging her to the edge with him. He had yet to see her.

"Pa-roos-key?" An older man asked who was suddenly hovering over him.

"No, I'm American." The wounded man said.

"Ah... American. You are a far away from home comrade but relax... we are friends here." He said in a thick Russian accent.

The wounded man hesitated as he looked at him but relaxed and said, "Dah."

"I'm Olev," the older man said as his hands pointed to his chest encouraging the stranger to say who he is.

"I'm... Ralph."

The old man chuckled as he knew the stranger was lying. But from the looks of his gunshot wound and the high tech equipment and weapons he carried Olev didn't really want to know too much anyway.

'Ralph' looked down and the small hands were still clinging to his chiseled abs. He looked around and saw a girl no older than 18 looking up at him with dreamy bright blue eyes. Her freckles ran freely throughout her face as her platinum blonde hair topped her head.

"Don't mind Stacia. She practically begged to heat you up. Since the alternative was either my wife or me we thought it would best if the little one did it."

'Ralph' felt himself grin for the first time in a long time. Of course body heat was the best way to raise a person's temperature especially if there are close to hyperthermia.

He looked at her completely freckled face and in a deep voice said, "Thank you."

Stacia widened her eyes and opened her mouth. But as soon as she found her voice she let out a loud pitch scream. 

'Ralph' stumbled back thinking he did something to her. Yup, he still had his headache.

"Oh my God... Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God." She chanted. She gripped the sides of her face as she openly stared at his perfectly carved body distinguishable through the thermal.

He looked at Olev and the old man rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders.

"This is a small town Comrade; we don't have people that look like you. But come you must drink and eat something. I cleaned up your wound as best as I could and extracted the bullet. You are lucky... many have died just being outside in the freeze. Here try on these clothes."

'Ralph' clasped Olev's arm and nodded in appreciation.

Olev gave him some large sweatpants and sweater to wear. The pants were too short on Ralph's tall body but it would have to do. He still felt weak but felt better overall. His shoulder was sore but it was nothing he couldn't handle, he'd been through worse.

Olev's wife, Larissa, placed a large bowl of warm chicken soup and a chunk of bread in front of him and a mug of aromatic tea. As he sat at the modest table, his heart warmed thinking how these people have treated a total stranger.

"Thank you for your hospitality."

Larissa looked at the handsome stranger and smiled. She wondered what his story was but knew her husband would find out. Tall, dark and handsome indeed... He would surely make some woman happy with that tanned body; it looked like it was sculpted by the gods. And those blue-green eyes and long thick eyelashes were any woman's envy.

'Ralph' turned his head to the left and came face to face with Stacia's freckles. 

Jesus! She scared the living daylights out of him. This girl was quiet as a mouse. She should go into my profession, he thought.

Olev cleared his throat, "Stacia leave the man alone."

She slowly nodded in a daze; but it was obvious she didn't hear him. She had pushed herself against him that she was almost in Ralph's soup. She inhaled and exhaled swooning over the gorgeous stranger.

"Sorry, we were finally able to see the movie Thor and she thinks you look like a bald tanned version of him."

'Ralph' chuckled and his blue-green eyes glimmered. He looked nothing like Thor. But who cares? This place was so isolated; he was surprised to find a teenager here. But he needed to focus and find what he came for.

"Do you know Mikhail Popov?"

Olev looked at him. His face remained neutral as if debating what to say.

'Ralph' continued, "He's an old friend. I need to speak to him." 

"If he is an old friend as you say, you wouldn't mind answering some questions about him."

'Ralph' nodded slightly impressed Olev hadn't given up the information so quickly.

"What is his favorite color?"

Huh? What was this, kindergarten?

"If you know him, you will know his favorite color." Olev said suspiciously.

'Ralph' thought about Mikhail and grinned.

"Blue."

Olev smiled and said, "What is his cat's name?"

"Halle." Ralph replied. The man was obsessed with Halle Berry... all the way from her Catwoman days.

Olev nodded and smiled. "Ok now, what do you want with Mikhail?"

'Ralph' looked at Olev. He didn't even notice Larissa and Stacia had already left the table and gave them privacy.

"He has information I need."

Olev nodded as if he already knew the answer.

"I will take you first thing in the morning. There is a storm coming tonight." Olev said.

'Ralph' thanked him. Olev showed him where he was to sleep and left him alone. 

It was a separate part of the house that was well insulated but looked like it was undergoing renovations. He saw the comfortable couch was made into a bed for him with his gear next to it.

He inspected his pack and found all his weapons and ammunition had been untouched. He checked his surveillance and tracking devices. When his stealth laptop booted up, he hacked into the agency with a fake identity. He would have to leave tomorrow, this had to end now. As he was about to close the laptop, the photo of two smiling female faces greeted him. He quickly shut it since he didn't want to let his mind go there.

He then inspected his shoulder. It would heal.

Not that bad... he was used to being wounded.

___________

The next day after breakfast, true to his word, Olev drove Ralph through the isolated town towards Mikhail. Everything was covered in freshly fallen snow. Olev's sturdy truck seemed to glide above it all. There were houses sparsely placed along the solitary road. They turned a corner and drove into the thick forest clearing. Olev proved to be a quiet man. Quiet but guarded.

"I know your name is not Ralph." Olev said cryptically. 

Ralph looked at him and waited to see what else he would say.

Silence.

"We have a good life here. We don't need any trouble... from anyone." 

Ralph glanced at the man who was still in good shape to be in his fifties. His hardworking hands looked like they could tell stories. His strong arms looked like he still did weights. Ralph smirked because Olev somehow sounded like he just threatened him. Ralph decided to change the conversation towards Olev.

"So... is Stacia your only child?" Ralph asked.

"Yes, my wife and I had Stacia later in life. We gave up trying to have a baby and she came like a sign from God to start a new life. Best thing to ever happen to me. She is homeschooled but very inquisitive... Do you have a family?"

Ralph gave him an unreadable expression.

"No, it's just me." He said somberly, his blue-green eyes serious.

"Well, you will one day." Olev said confidently.

Ralph looked out the window and thought back to a time he thought the same way, full of hopes and dreams. He bitterly remembered his scarred past; his stupid mistakes. When he wrapped this mission up, he would take a leave of absence and disappear again.  

They arrived at Mikhail's house and it looked more like a large garage than a house, it was painted navy blue. It didn't have any windows. It looked desolate if not for the freshly shoveled and salted path free of snow.

Mikhail opened the door with an automatic shot gun in his hands. Ralph cracked a grin at his old friend, always the paranoid one. You could never be too careful, he would always say. He was one of the few friends Ralph had left from the agency.

He had aged since he'd last seen him two years ago. His black hair now peppered with gray and a couple of extra wrinkled lines adorned his face. He was still tall and lanky and always smoking.

When they reached him, Mikhail took a long drag of his cigarette and exhaled. The white smoke drifted into the frigid breeze. 

"You are not dead." He said looking at Ralph.

"Not today. But you soon will be if you keep smoking those things... You've aged old man." 

Mikhail chuckled, "Bah! Die of one thing or another... And who are you calling old man? I can still take you. Even though you look like you swallowed some bricks since I last saw you..." he said assessing Ralph's bulging muscles. 

Ralph chuckled and they clasped hands and Ralph hugged him with his good shoulder.

"Olev... thank you for bringing him." Mikhail said.

Mikhail looked at Ralph and said, "How did you meet my cousin Olev?"

Ralph's aqua-colored eyes widened. Cousin?

He looked at Olev who shrugged his shoulders and snickered. 

"Fate."

Mikhail chuckled and ushered them in still holding the shot gun in one hand. His home was warm and inviting inside. The walls were painted light blue and gray and there were lamps and candles that gave the home a comfy feel. Soft leather couches sat on plush carpeting. If it wasn't for Mikhail's heavy artillery resting on the side wall, it would be a normal home.

After settling in, Mikhail brought them some coffee and Vodka. You know, so they can have a variety. 

The graceful Persian cat, Halle, made her appearance, meowed and settled on Mikhail headrest. Mikhail lit another cigarette and pulled his first drag. His glass ash tray balanced on the leather recliner's armrest.

"So my friend, have you found what you've been looking for?" Mikhail said his crystal blue eyes expectant.

Ralph inconspicuously glanced to his right at Olev and then at Mikhail. 

"Oh, Olev is alright. He's ex-CIA too. He and Larissa were active during the Berlin Wall fiasco. They've retired since then."

Ralph raised his eyebrows towards Olev in admiration. Olev again pouted his lips and shrugged his shoulders.

Ralph cleared his throat and said, "It seems the agency has changed their minds as to... my invaluable service. It looks like I have to step back into my life and retrieve my only safety net... it's the only way I can clear my name."

Mikhail nodded and said, "Where will you go?"

"It looks like they're headed to Athens." Ralph said.

Mikhail nodded as if he already knew the answer. He looked at 'Ralph' and remembered his story. His old friend looked completely different as he did when he first met him as a new recruit. He had become hardened and somber. Until recently, he was known as a respected agent that was completely lethal. Now, only the lethal part remained. He would help his friend in any way he could.

"This is good; it is time you went back." He said.

A deep uneasy feeling settled in Ralph's gut. It's now or never. Better to face the wrath of your past then to live alone in shame.

Duplicity Ch. 01



Duplicity (or, Act 1 of 2)

In which love is tested, trust is nearly betrayed, 
people are met, and a decision is made.

On the day I proposed to Elizabeth Rose Connosint, she said yes. It was the happiest day of my life.

We were nearing the end of college, it being May. We were both from wealth, so there was no real reason for either of us to get jobs right away. Or ever, for that matter. So, we decided to wait for a December wedding. I don’t know why we choose to wait for December, but it was a month both of us loved, and I was glad to be getting married to the woman I loved, so the wait didn’t really matter to me.

We spent almost every waking hour for the first month together. It was bliss. I say every waking hour because we were both virgins, and had decided to remain so until the wedding night. She because of religion, and me because I wanted it to be extra special for her. She deserved it, and I wanted to give her everything she deserved.

So, one night, I made a decision. I’d never been the most social guy, so I knew there wouldn’t be bachelor party. That was fine; I didn’t want one anyway. Strippers and sex and booze, none of it had been very important to me to that point. Why waste an entire night when I could be curled up with a good book? And I didn’t want to sleep with anyone other than Elizabeth. So, I figured, why not take a short vacation. I knew that Elizabeth was planning a trip to visit her parents (who, unlike mine, were still alive) in England. Her parents had never warmed to me, however, and I didn’t figure they ever would. And I had never gotten along with my brother, Theodore (Tod), who was living in the same neighborhood as Elizabeth’s family, so I hadn’t planned on going.

Instead, I was going to do what I loved best. I was going to spend my last carefree days as a street musician.

It was silly, I know. No one respects street musicians. I had been told, more than once, to get a real job, or to go to school. It didn’t matter. That was what I did with my life, and it made me happy. 

So, with six months until the wedding, we went out separate directions. Although neither of us spoke of it, this was also supposed to act as a test of our devotion, that we could go three months without seeing each other, but also without ceasing to love one another. 

So, I set off. I headed down from where I lived then (a relatively small town about twenty miles from Detroit), and began my three months of wandering.

It was a lovely time. My first real stop was in Indiana. It was a pretty small town, but I was appreciated. Each night, I would go down to town square and strum some tunes on my guitar for as long as I could. By my fourth night there, pretty much the entire town showed up to listen. They would come with their families, lay out a blanket on the grass on either side of the road, and enjoy some quality time together. Each night, I would go home with a different family.

In my opinion, it was one of the few truly innocent places I’ve ever been. Most places, I’d get a few dollars in quarters and then have to stay at a cold, impersonal hotel somewhere. Here, no one donated money. Instead, they took me home, trusting me, and I got two delicious home-cooked meals, free of charge and a hundred times better than the fanciest restaurant could do.

I knew that I had stayed too long, however, when, one night, at the home of some folks who had shared one of the best hams I’ve ever had with me, their daughter, a girl of the tender young age of eighteen, snuck into my room.

I woke to a breath on my cheek, thinking it morning, and thinking that, maybe, their dog had come in to lick my cheeks to wake me. Groggily, I turned my head to the side, but the breath followed my movements, and soon, so did lips.

I felt the soft warmth that only a pair of tender lips can provide press against my own. Unconsciously, I responded, kissing slightly back. I breathed, “Elizabeth,” which was unfortunate, as her name, like my fiancée’s, was Elizabeth. The kiss increased in passion, decreased in subtlety, and soon, I felt a soft, moist tongue probing insistently at my closed lips.

That, I think was what woke me. I woke up, and my mouth involuntarily opened, giving her sweet-tasting tongue free reign in my mouth. It caressed my own, stimulating me. I could feel Liz’s soft curves beneath her thin nightgown, pressing warmly against me in the cool night air. 

My hand slipped up, and began to rub her breast through her nightgown, caressing the nipples that were, by then, hard as tiny pebbles. She moaned into my mouth, calling out my name in her soft, almost shrill voice.

That woke me fully into awareness. My fiancées voice was more husky, reverberating. This wasn’t my fiancée!

I pushed Liz away calmly, breaking the kiss. Gently, I pushed herself away, and stood up, pushing the covers off me and letting her fall onto the bed.

“Liz,” I began, “I’m flattered, surely, but I’m not interested.” I thought that was a mature statement, and quite to the point. I had no idea why she was trying so desperately to stifle a giggle, until I followed where her eyes were staring.

I was naked. And I was very, very obviously interested.

I blushed (which I did and do quite easily, even today), and began to stammer out an explanation. I began desperately pulling on clothing, not looking at what I was putting on, just throwing whatever was near on.

After I had calmed down, I sat back down on the bed, and the two of us just talked until dawn.

She really was a sweet girl, precious and far more innocent than I had originally thought. Apparently, she had been a virgin, and had wanted to be experienced so she could seduce a young man she was thoroughly infatuated with. Her innocence (despite trying to sleep with someone who was, in effect, a complete stranger) was charming. Our talk was really quite nice, and I think we both grew a little that night.

She left my room a few minutes before her family began to wake. At my door, she turned back and looked at me funny. “I hope your girl deserves you,” she said to me, before leaving my room. I sat on the bed, thinking about that as I waited for breakfast to be ready.

As I stepped in the living room, I again wondered why I was getting so many stares. Liz was blushing furiously. Her mother passed out. Finally, her dad’s face was reddening with rage.

I looked down again. Not only did I have my pants on, I wasn’t even hard. I looked down further.

Oh, shit.

I grabbed my bags and ran as quickly as possible, trying to shake the panties that had, at sometime during the night, gotten stuck on my foot.

Well, after I escaped that town in relative quiet (the family hadn’t wanted the story to get out, and frankly, neither did I), I stopped at a motel a few towns over.

I hadn’t talked to Elizabeth in nearly a month, so I figured I would surprise her over there in Europe. I called her parents house, and her father picked up. He hadn’t been born in England, and still had a very noticeable American accent, so I knew immediately that I had the right house. 

Elizabeth and I had a nice chat, full of longing, and we both ended by saying how much we loved each other. I hung up, glad to know that she was having a nice visit. She had met my brother for the first time, and found him quite pleasant, she had told me. Other than that, everything was fine.

I think, before I go on, I should tell you about my brother. I said we do not get along. That may be an understatement. Tod is everything I am not. My greatest ambition is to brighten up peoples’ days through music. Tod desires, one day, to own a large business, and is quite willing to do whatever it takes to get there. I dress casually, almost everywhere. Tod is always elegantly attired. I am slightly overweight (and have, to my chagrin, been described more than once as “cherubic”), and wouldn’t know fashion if it picked me up by my shorts, slapped me around a few times, and threw me in a ditch. Tod could probably pass as a male model, and always dresses as up-to-date as humanly possible. I’m a twenty-two year old virgin. I doubt Tod was born a virgin, and he’s been quite the ladies’ man. I’ve frequently seen him on the arm of actresses or models. To put it in the most easily understood manner: I am a simple man, and Tod is very much a man of the world.

Despite our differences, the fact that I am often a bit bitter when I comes to his frequent victories over me, and his advantages, I’ve always considered it the irony or ironies that I am, in general, the happier of the two, and so he goes out of his way to make me as miserable as possible.

As you might very well imagine, this is not exactly conducive to a friendly relationship. 

Back to the story.

I wandered for a week or two, walking here and there. I never stayed anywhere more than a single night. I couldn’t find anywhere that felt right. Finally, I visited a small town in Illinois, and it was like coming home again. I played every single night. 

I had, however, learned my lesson. While I still accepted meals for my playing, I made sure to spend each night at a bed and breakfast (one with no teenage daughters, or daughters at all for that matter). It was run by a couple in their late thirties, a pretty brunette who was starting to show her age, and a muscular man with graying temples and a small beer belly.

They were extremely friendly. They were my first (and biggest) fans there. A similar arrangement was reached, and so, for a week, I provided the town entertainment.

Again, a very specific event marked the last night of my stay. This time, however, everyone was well aware that this was my last night. They threw me a small going-away party, which was very sweet of them, as I was only there for a week in the first place. 

Anyways, I got back to the bed and breakfast sometime around one in the morning. I wasn’t particularly tired (I’m a night person), and Erin and Bob normally enjoy some conversation, around this time of night.

Now, this was a routine that had been going on for the past five days. The last two, I hadn’t even knocked. I’d just go into their room, kick back on the couch, and we’d all chat about whatever was on their mind. I was just relaxing, but it was almost like they saw me as a confessor of sorts. They told me anything and everything. More, truthfully, than I had wanted to know. However, it comforted them to get some of these things off their chest, and my discomfort was minimal, so I was more than willing to oblige them. The other thing they normally said that made me uncomfortable was that, in their opinion, I shouldn’t marry Elizabeth. They never explained why, but that’s the only opinion they would give on the matter. But they had never met her, so I didn’t pay heed to their opinion there.

So, I walked into their room, flipping on the lights. I knew they were awake, because Erin has sleeping troubles, and generally won’t fall asleep until three in the morning or so.

I was greeted by a sight notably different from the norm, this time. Bob was kissing Erin, very tenderly, on the bed. He was naked, and Erin’s hands were slowly stroking his hard penis. Erin was wearing only a bra and panties, and I could see the dress she had worn to the party on the floor.

My greeting died in my throat, but it was too late for me to make a silent escape into embarrassment. They both immediately turned their heads. I waited for the explosion, ready to dash to my bags and then out of the house before they came at me with guns/knives/baseball bats with nails stuck through them. One foot was off the floor. I was ready to move.

And they smiled. They had the utter gall to smile at me! Can you believe it? I couldn’t.

“We didn’t know when to expect you,” Erin said, swallowing a giggle. The slight blush and the giggle made her look about ten years younger than she was, and the adoration in her soft blue eyes as she turned her gaze to her husband made me think of how much I loved Elizabeth.

However, nothing could fully distract me from my current situation. Not even Elizabeth. “I, I, I’m so sorry,” I stammered nervously, backing to the door. I was nervous for a whole new reason, now. I didn’t trust those smiles. I didn’t want a repeat of the last town. My first time would be special.

Thankfully, it was nothing like that. They were too deeply in love to want to experiment with a third person. Neither had any desire. What they wanted was to be taped, as Erin would be leaving for a few months, while Bob would be staying. They wanted a memento, of sorts, to keep of their last night together for quite some time. An odd memento, but who am I to judge?

It took a few minutes of persuading, but I could see no harm in it. They couldn’t ask anyone from the town to do it. That would be mortifying. I, however, was safe. I didn’t know them. I didn’t know their friends. The chances of our meeting again were infinitesimal. 

I agreed.

They set up the camera, a pretty nice handheld, and gave it to me. With an almost morbid fascination, I watched as they began anew their foreplay.

It started, as I believe it always should, with a kiss. Despite years of marriage, there was a purity to that kiss. It was innocent. It was chaste. Even as it deepened, even as lips opened to give way to the tangle of tongues, it was still a kiss that was as innocent as I had ever imagines a kiss could be. It was nothing like the heated fumblings I had shared with either Elizabeth. 

Bob began to grow hard again. Without breaking the kiss, Erin began to stroke his six-inch penis once more, running loving hands over it in ceaseless motion.

In control of the camera, I ignored the beginning of the foreplay, closing in on the kiss. Finally, after a few moments, I zoomed back out, focusing on the whole erotic tableau. Erin’s bra fell came off during Bob’s rather adept manipulations, revealing breasts that were nowhere near sagging, peaked with stiff, rosy nipples.

Bob’s thick (though nimble) fingers were now rubbing his wife’s damp pussy through her white panties. She broke the kiss (which is still among the longest, most loving kisses I’ve ever seen), and threw back her head, moaning her pleasure out unashamedly. As moans and squeals of child-like pleasure escaped her lovely lips, Bob continued to work her with a personal expertise only acquirable after years of loving practice.

Slowly put surely, Bob’s lips lowered, first to her neck, which kissed fervently, almost worshipfully, and then down to her breasts, which he attacked with passion. He caught one nipple between his lips and sucked gently, while one hand snuck inside her panties, stroking her gently. Her moans quickly increased in intensity and volume, making me (and them, probably) exceedingly glad that I was the only person staying at the bed and breakfast that night.

Erin’s panties were coming off, slowly but surely. I’m not even sure she noticed them sliding down her thighs, to her ankles, and finally off. She must have, though, for as soon as they were off, she spread her thighs, and moaned, “Please, God, make love to me!” 

Bob merely began to laugh heartily, enjoying her pleasurable distress. Her lips left her breasts, much to her disappointment, and made their way lower, down to her stomach, finally reaching her lovely vagina.

Without hesitation, he buried his face in the lovely, brown-haired nest, and began to eat her with astonishing passion, like a starving man offered his first meal in weeks. Elizabeth’s back arched (unhealthily, in my opinion. I kept thinking she would break something), and her hands gripped the sheets hard enough to begin to tear them. Her moans were interspersed with her pleadings that he begin to make love to her, and her magnificent breasts were rising and falling quickly as she began to breath heavily.

Finally, just as she was on the verge of orgasm, he rose up, took her lips with his own, and thrust his six-inch manhood as deep as he could in he lovely, loving wife, bringing her to orgasm on his first thrust.

He caught all her moans in his own mouth, and gently, sweetly, began to make love to her. He moved his hips slowly, filling her and moving about inside of her. I could see her cock, covered in her juices, as it moved in and out of her. He pulled his lips from hers, and, as they made love, they stared each other in the eyes. I think I heard him whisper, “I love you,” to her, but it was too quiet to be sure. The answering smile, surely as bright and lovely as Helen’s must have been, so many thousands of years ago, confirmed my suspicions. 

They continued to smile dreamily up at each other, until, together, they came. Bob hilted himself inside of his loving wife, groaning, as Erin wrapped her legs around his hips, pressing him as far into her as she could. 

Together, they rode out their passion. Slowly, the each came down. They had forgotten about me, and they softly whispered sweet nothings back and forth, giggling and laughing softly as the night enveloped them, and they began to drift off to sleep.

I made my way back to my room, getting a good night’s sleep before heading off the next morning.

I called Elizabeth from the road, that day. She picked up, this time, instead of her parents. 

“Hello, love,” she said, breathing heavily.

“Is something wrong?” I asked. Elizabeth is quite athletic. It takes quite a bit of exercise to get her this out of breath.

“Oh, everything’s fine,” she managed to pant. I figured she must be talking on their cordless from the treadmill.

“And how has your trip been? Have you managed to talk your parents over to my side yet?” I asked teasingly. No one could talk them over to my side.

“Yes, yes!” she cried out. I was pretty impressed.

“Really, love? That’s great!” And it was, I wanted her family to accept me as she did. I was just astonished that she had actually succeeded this time.

“Mmmmm, yes it is!” she said softly, in her husky voice. “It’s great!” she cried out.

“Yes, well love, I’m going to get going, so I’ll talk to you again in a few weeks,” I said.

“I love you,” she practically panted. 

I smiled and returned the sentiment, before hanging up and continuing my journey.

I decided to make the next stop my last. I had had a good run, making a few friends. I had Elizabeth(not my fiancée, the other one)’s phone number, as well as that of Bob and Erin. I had a head full of good memories, and I had made some good friends. Really, I just wanted to go home and be with Elizabeth, who would be returning home two weeks earlier than I.

So it was that my last true stop was another small town, about thirty miles south of Chicago. I figured that I would make this my last stop. After this, I would catch a plane to Detroit in Chicago, and be with Elizabeth again.

Thankfully, no strange event marked my arrival, stay, or departure of my last town. I did make some friends, especially with a police officer named Ryan and one of his pals, Dave. Dave and Ryan were lovers, and had been for about five years. When I was younger, it would have bothered me, but throughout college, my best friend was gay, so it was quite natural, and even a little familiar for me to hang out with them. And they also threw one hell of a going away party for me. I spent most nights at Ryan’s house, and he spent most nights with Dave, so it worked out fine for all involved. They gave me their numbers, and told me to call if I ever needed help, or a place to stay.

Anyways, I made my way up to Chicago. The event that marked my last day before returning home finally happened.

I was walking down a street that night. I had a hotel room nearby, but I liked walking around. I had spent most of the evening playing, but I wasn’t quite so appreciated here as I had been in other places.

So, I was walking there, and my fine, musician’s ears picked up a muffled scream from a nearby alley.




Duplicity Ch. 01



Hello everyone,

Let me know what you think of this chapter. It was definitely a challenge to write but hopefully you'll enjoy it. If you're new to reading this series, it'd be good to read Good Grief to get the background story of the characters. Special thanks to honeybree for editing and great feedback. 






"Cece, I never thought I'd see you again. I'm glad to see you still have the necklace I gave you..."

"Sean?" Sienna whispered hoarsely.

"I'm so sorry to do this to you". Sean looked behind his back and said, "I have to go but I will see you again, I promise."

He reached over and slipped off the necklace and key around her neck. He started to walk away but Jason stood up and got in his face.

"Sean? As in... Sienna's dead brother Sean?"

"Yes."

"What the fuck?! And you're just going to up and leave her again?"

Sean anxiously looked around and said, "I'm sorry but I have to go."

When Sean turned to look back at him, his face ran into Jason's heavy fist. Sienna gasped and Sean face sprang back up quickly as if he didn't just get punched.

"You fucking selfish prick." Jason spat.

Sean smiled as he wiped the blood off the corner of his mouth. He looked at Jason straight in the eye and smirked.

"Not bad." Sean lightly said almost in admiration.

While Jason stood there confused, Sean walked away but stopped at Sienna and kissed the top of her head.

"I love you Cece, I'll explain everything soon enough."

And just like that he was gone.

Sienna quietly watched Sean disappear from her life again... like the ghost he was. There was a dull ache in the pit of her stomach. She could barely breathe at the discovery... almost hyperventilating.

Sean was alive.

Sienna couldn't even fathom the how or the why but he was alive. Deep sense of gratitude washed over her. She looked up at the diamond speckled sky surrounded by the black night and thanked God for the miracle. It was so quiet; there was a magnificent glow in the heavens.

Who was that silently weeping so close to her?

Sienna realized it was her. 

Tears fell from her face without any control of where they landed. All those feelings she worked through with Sean's death, all the grief and pain she experienced... was for nothing? Where the fuck has he been? Why did he leave her again? 

Angry, confused and hurt; Sienna was completely and utterly alone. 

She felt hollow like a steel drum ready to explode with a sound at any moment...

But then, Sienna smelled a clean earthy scent while silky hair caressed her cheek. 

She wasn't alone. 

Sienna hadn't even realized it but she had been hugging Jason. She hugged him so hard, clinging to him. He would surely bruise. He smelled like fresh clean air after a heavy rainstorm.

Carefully, he gathered her in his arms and her small head nestled in the crook of his arm. Sienna was still in a daze but let herself drown in Jason. He held her so close; he almost carried her since she had no strength.

When they arrived back to the hotel, they didn't talk about what happened because they didn't know what to say. It was such a bizarre miraculous encounter; they almost thought it hadn't really happened. 

Sienna sat on the couch and looked straight ahead into the empty space. Jason held her and pulled her on his lap. He dug his heavy hand in her brown hair and forced her to look at him.

"It's ok." Jason whispered as he looked at her intently.

Silence. 

Sienna looked away in a daze.

"It's ok."

Silence. 

Sienna felt the confusing emotions take hold of her. 

Sean was alive. 

But Sienna and her family buried him. Well, in actuality his remains were never discovered so they didn't really bury him. No, but he couldn't be alive. But there he was. Where did he go? Sienna wept over him for years. Maybe she just imagined it was him and they really had just gotten robbed. But if that were the case, why did the stranger want with the silver necklace and not something more valuable like her engagement ring?

Sienna's neck still burned from where he abruptly took the necklace. No, she could identify her brother anywhere. It was him; it was her baby brother Sean.

"It's ok." 

With widened eyes, she slowly shook her head as she continued to stare at the wall.

"Baby, it's ok." 

Sienna felt her protective shield crack and she let out a quiet shudder of deep emotion. As she silently whimpered, Jason made her lock eyes with him. Tears quickly pooled and fell down her mahogany cheeks. Jason hugged her tight as she wept.

"Baby, it will be ok." He whispered hoarsely as he rubbed her back tenderly.

Sienna finally let out an agonizing sob as she released the first wave of emotion. As her cries became louder Jason hugged her tighter. He couldn't help but feel his eyes prickle with tears as he felt what she felt.

Sienna's face slowly moved towards Jason like a plant yearning for sunlight.

Right now, she just needed to feel something powerful. Sienna's kiss was slow and tentative as her tears continuously fell from her face. Jason tasted those tears as he let her explore his mouth unhurriedly. 

Even though she had kissed him a million times before, this time it was different. His mouth healed her like holy water. It was strong but tender with her at every turn. She never knew she could feel something like this... literally she started to heal from a kiss.

In turn, Jason marveled as he felt Sienna be truly vulnerable and open. He felt her pain from losing Sean all over again. She nibbled on his lips and he moaned in appreciation.

He would become anything she needed.

Their holy kisses quickly ignited something wicked in them. Sienna tongue picked up the pace as she twirled it into his. 

She needed him badly. She needed him to continue to make her feel better. She needed to feel something other than the pain. Her deep uneven breath coursed through her and pumped her very heart. She trembled in anticipation.

Like an addict needing a fix, they frantically took their clothes off and latched their mouths to each other once again. 

Jason ran his hands down her breasts and stomach and Sienna whimpered. Her eyes were puffy and swollen. She was still shaken but her urgent desire took control.

Jason smoothly carried her to the suite's bedroom and placed her on the counter. He parted her legs wide and crouched down and ran his tongue up her inner thighs. When he got close to her treasure he inhaled deeply and licked his lips in anticipation. He could never get enough of his baby's pussy.

Biting her bottom lip, Sienna watched Jason snake his tongue out and lick. His face seemed so concentrated on the task as if he wanted to give her pussy his undivided attention. Just the sight of him had her on the brink of ecstasy as she was soaking wet.

His tongue slowly licked and sucked her pussy petals knowing exactly what her body needed. A ball of heat fluttered through her. Already, Sienna was trying hard not to cum. This was a difficult task because Jason's wicked tongue was the commander and chief of her pussy. 

All her previous pain and confusion were now fuel for her desire. 

Jason's meaty tongue twirled and slurped her juices completely. Stroking her soft pink folds, he slowly flicked her clit and that was her undoing. She let out a loud scream as her orgasm racked through her. Jason moaned his approval causing her an aftershock of pleasure. 

When Sienna came to she eagerly stroked Jason's impossibly hard thick dick. She couldn't wait to have him inside of her. She needed to have him inside her. 

She wrapped her thick thighs around his waist and encouraged his cock towards her awaiting pussy. Jason groaned when he felt that tight wet entrance suction him in. He would never tire of his baby's perfect body. He grabbed her voluptuous hips and franticly fucked her roughly. He knew that's what she wanted, what she needed. 

He pummeled into her quickly. The sounds of obscene bodies slapping and grunts and moans were the only things heard. The bedroom counter shook and knocked on the wall. Its mirror threatened to fall over... but the gorgeous couple was too preoccupied to notice.

Sienna sensitive pussy clamped hard on Jason's dick as her next orgasm crescendoed. This had to be heaven. There was no other place Sienna could possibly want to be.

Sienna held onto Jason chiseled chest tightly as he took her to heaven and back. Her hard chocolate nipples caressed his massive tanned chest. It was time to repay the favor. Her lips reached for his ear and licked it. Knowing that was his weakness. 

"Tell me you love this pussy." She huskily whispered.

"I love it." Jason huffed as he pummeled her faster... deeper.

"Mm-hmm... Tell me you need this pussy, baby."

"I need it." Jason groaned. He was having a hard time not being sent over the edge with her words. He was fucking her so fast... so deep; you couldn't tell where his body ended and hers began.

"Mm-hmm, I want you to fuck me faster and harder. I want to feel your hot sticky cum inside of me." She said and she sucked on his right earlobe.

"Fuccckkk!!!" Jason roared as he came deep within her. His breathing was labored. Sienna smooth cocoa skin glowed in the dim bedroom light as she tried to catch her breath.

Jason carried her to the large bathroom and started a bubble bath. He kissed her softly as he led her to the large jetstream tub. 

Jason settled her on his lap and with a soapy sponge carefully and lovingly cleaned her. He washed her hair with her shampoo and concentrated rubbing her scalp. His large hands moved to her neck and shoulders and gave her a nice deep massage. 

Sienna turned towards him and softly smiled despite how heartbroken she felt. This man knew her body inside and out. Her hazel eyes twinkled although there was a sadness still hidden in them.

"Thanks babe. I really needed that. How did you know what I needed you to do?"

Jason shrugged his shoulders. "I guess I'm a licensed Sienna expert."

Sienna chuckled and said, "That you are. I love you so much."

Jason kissed her nose and whispered, "I know."

Sienna turned around and grabbed the sponge and made sure to pay attention to Jason's magnificent body. His muscles tensed and relaxed as she rubbed them with her small soft hands. Jason relaxed on the tub headrest and watched his beautiful princess bathe him, she concentrated on the task. Jason exhaled letting out the stress he felt from the night as well.

Sienna long wet hair cascaded down her back and her flawless skin seemed to mesh with his. She straddled him and he loved the view of her deliciously thick hips and thighs topped with her tight stomach. Her proud breasts were glistening with droplets of warm water and her hard nipples begged to be sucked. He would be lucky to wake up to this sight, every day for the rest of his life.

His golden tanned body was a stark contrast with her mahogany skin. 

She loved how his taut skin felt. It was so powerful like he was hiding a steel frame. Her hands snaked down to his stomach; his sinful abs contracted and looked even more delicious wet. The sponge traveled to his right side oblique and she sponged over his most recent acquisition.

Sienna smiled and her heart warmed at the sight of it. Along his first ribcage in script font was tattooed Francis and his birth date. The second rib was seared with Sienna and the date they first met at the cemetery all those months ago. 

When he got the tattoos he said he wanted his body to carry the date he met the two most important women in his life.

Her gaze followed his scattered happy trail that led to his delicious throbbing dick, Sienna unconsciously licked her lips. Jason's cock jumped in response. She grabbed it with both hands and rubbed it up and down. Jason groaned at her touch and he ran his hands down her head and back. She lowered her mouth to his swollen head and gave it a tentative lick. Slowly and lovingly she inched down his shaft and moaned in delight. She loved tasting his cock; it was as if she could feast on him forever. 

Although she couldn't fit his whole length in her mouth she bobbed her head up and down and swiped her tongue around the head as she went. She licked the sides of his shaft; her tongue traced his thickly corded veins. She suckled the underside of his mushroom head. 

Jason pushed her hair out of the way so he could watch her intently. Her pretty mouth puckered as she sucked. He was on the brink of cumming just by observing her beautiful mahogany cheeks filled with his purplish cock. When her half-lidded hazel eyes lifted and met his, he almost exploded right there. She batted her long lashes but didn't stop her task. Her open desire for him was clearly written in her sizzling gaze. 

When the tangy taste of precum hit her tongue, her eyes closed and she moaned in delight. Her pussy agreed and was soaking wet. Unconsciously, she grinded on his leg; she needed some friction. 

As she dove in, she laved every inch. His breath hitched as her throat swallowed the tip and held him there. He howled a harsh cry like a wounded animal. She sped up, bobbing up and down and felt Jason's encouraging hand pushing her head up and down. 

Something in Jason snapped.

Both hands appeared on her head and made her go down on him faster and harder... fucking himself with her beautiful mouth. Water splashed around them...

Jason kept going. 

"I love you Princess." He huffed.

Jason's hips came up to meet her mouth roughly. The more he shoved her down onto his cock the more Sienna's desires were electrified. He knew her dark desires well... he inspired most of them within her.

Sienna felt herself on the verge of cumming. She knew he was close and nothing brought her more desire than his pleasure.

Sienna felt Jason's balls tighten. She shoved herself down his length even more and held him there. 

Letting out a tortured cry, he exploded his seed into her waiting mouth. He watched in awe as she swallowed thick ropes of pearly cum. She groaned deeply when she felt her pussy spasm as she came and tried not to choke as she swallowed his cum. 

Siena smiled at him and kissed him earnestly. He kissed her fervently while tasting lingering traces of himself in her. 

They got out of the now chilly bath water and dried themselves off. As they walked to the bed, he stared at her beautiful curvy body. Her skin glowed in the soft light. Sienna crawled backwards on the bed, her eyes trained on his every move. Entranced by her tight stomach, thick thighs and glistening pussy folds, he wasted no time in joining her and simply ran his hands down her body making her comfortable. He lathered oil down her legs and feet, then rubbed it over her chest and arms. His dick was already recovered by being rock hard but he just held her close. 

She turned to face him and kissed him. As she wrapped her leg around him, she ushered him closer to her until his padded steel cock slipped inside her again... unhurriedly.

They kissed while he made love to her slowly and deeply. It took a while but he had effectively released the anger, the worry and the tension she felt from this evening. Sienna's mouth let out a silent cry and she trembled as she came again. He followed right behind her and came deep within her. 

They were utterly satisfied and held each other comfortably. As if suddenly remembering this evening Sienna silently cried the last tears on Jason's shoulder. Her pain and frustration released and she felt herself calm as Jason held her. Sienna felt completely enveloped in Jason's love.

After a long stretch of silence...

"There was always something deep within me that knew he wasn't dead, well... hoped he wasn't dead. I just convinced myself I wasn't being rational and came to accept it. There were too many questions left unanswered and too many holes in the story of his death. I always dreamed of seeing him. But I just can't believe after all this time, he just up and left me again."

"Princess, there has to be a reason for all of this. For now just take comfort in knowing he is alive and well. Hopefully he'll explain everything soon like he said."

"You're right baby. I love you so much. Thanks for being there for me." Sienna said giving him a small grin.

"You're my life sweetheart. Whatever you end up finding out we'll face together."

Jason held her until she fell asleep and he drifted off as well.

_________________

A week later back in their island home in Santorini, Sienna prepped her tools to paint in her studio. In his office, Jason researched everything he could on Sean Matthew Johnson but came up empty. Even with the best investigators, no one knew anything about his supposed death or his military career. 

He let out a frustrated sigh and leaned back in his leather chair.

"You're never going to find anything on me there." A deep voice said.

Jason was startled and let out a, "What the fuck!"

In a split second Jason had his locked and loaded glock in hand. He steadily pointed the steel barrel at the stranger.

"How did you get in here?!" Jason demanded.

"You really should upgrade your security system."

"You had better come with some answers or so help me God..."

Although his weapon was still pointed at Sean; Jason stood his full height and peered into the eyes of Sienna's long lost brother. They were almost eye to eye. It seemed Sean was just half an inch shorter than him putting him a little over 6'3". His features were a lot like their mother, Sharon, but he saw some of Sienna in him as well. He wore a gray hoodie and sweatpants.

Even though Sean's broad shoulders were relaxed with his hands in his pocket, Jason could tell this man was lethal. His corded bulging muscles and cunning eyes said it all. 

"Listen, I came to talk to her and explain everything but I wanted to talk to you first. I know it's hard to understand but I love Cece and want what's best for her... I believe you are a good match for her-"

"Motherfucker... how would you know that?! You don't know me-"

"595-12-7625 is your social. You were born on March 17, 1984 in St. Luke's-Roosevelt hospital. Your mother is Francis Bethany Rossini and your father is Richard Charles Bane. From the age of 8, you and your mother lived at 103 Lincoln Place, Brooklyn. You attended PS-282. You wore a mouth guard to sleep until you were 15. You had a pet turtle named Kermit who died of old age. You played basketball in high school and were popular. You were close to your mother, sorry for your loss by the way. 

You are completely in love with my sister and special ordered her engagement ring from Chopard... a month after you met her. But you just picked it up when you were in Geneva a couple weeks ago. Very nice ring by the way. 

Believe me; I wouldn't let just anyone get close to Sienna. I'd protect her from the grave if I had to."

Jason's mouth dropped open and he was speechless. How in the hell could he know all of that?

"I just want you to know I mean no harm. And I'm sure you have questions but I'd like to answer them with Sienna present."

Jason's tense posture relaxed and he sighed. 

"I don't know what your agenda is, but my gut is telling me to give you a chance. But if you hurt Sienna in any way... I promise you will regret it."

Jason lowered his weapon and tucked it in his desk drawer.

"Thank you." Sean said grinning. "See... that wasn't so hard. Look at that, brothers to-be getting along already."

Jason grunted in response.

They walked towards Sienna's studio and saw her prepping a canvas for a new painting. She was stretching the canvas over the wood stretchers and loudly stapling the fabric edges secure. Her back was toward the door and she seemed completely unaware anyone was there.

"Baby, why don't you give my brother and me a minute?" Sienna said to the men's surprise.




Duplicity Ch. 01



Jason walked over and gave her a tight hug and a thorough kiss. Jason didn't really care Sean was watching, he needed to show Sienna his love and support. 

"I'll be right in the next room if you need me." Jason whispered. 

Sienna nodded and said, "I'll be ok." 

She mouthed, I love you and Jason winked at her. As he left the room, Jason shot Sean a warning glare.

Sienna hadn't stopped what she was doing and seemed quite peaceful in her space.

Sean shuffled from one foot to the other with his hands behind his back. He looked like a child awaiting punishment. This was proving to be a lot harder than he expected.

Sienna's art studio was large with white washed walls and slate floors. There were scattered canvassed paintings leaning on the walls. 

The easels and paint brushes were silent witnesses to Sean's unease. 

A couch, desk and lamps were propped to the right side of the room, settled on a large plush rug. Four large open windows forced the bright sunlight in the room. The window view was mesmerizing because of the intense blue sea and the caldera cliffs in the distance. The only sounds were of the crashing waves and the squawking seagulls.

"Did you come to tell me something or are you going to stand there all day?" Sienna said abruptly breaking the silence.

Undoubtedly, Sienna was conflicted. Sean was obviously unharmed and healthy. Why didn't he try to contact her? Could it be possible to be so angry at someone you love that you want to kill them... but feel so relieved they are alive? She couldn't decide to either slap him or hug him. 

Her very best friend and brother came back from the dead. You'd think she would have instantly leapt for joy... until she found him cold and distant. He didn't have amnesia and wasn't missing any limbs. What the fuck? In that moment all Sienna felt was anger... and all she asked was, why? 

Why... the same word that echoed within her so long ago when she found out Sean was dead.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Save it Sean, I've been to hell and back, there's nothing you can say that I can't handle. Just tell me... where have you been?" 

Sean walked in front of her and placed his hands over hers to get her attention. Sienna's eyes were fixated on the table. Her hands gripped the canvas as she waited for Sean's words... his excuses... his reasons... his story.

Silence.

Even though, Sean had already secured the perimeter, done a sweep for tracking bugs the night before and cleared the building; he was anxious. He knew it was safe to talk. He knew it was time to talk. But it was incredibly hard to find the words, to relive the past.

"I'm sorry, I-I-I can't... I don't know where to begin." Sean whispered.

Sienna slowly looked up and peered into her brother's face. She barely recognized him and yet his face was so familiar. He still had the little scar above his eyebrow from when he banged his head on the kitchen cabinets when he was six years old. He still had the little freckle on his jaw line that she used to tease him about, saying it was a fake beauty mark. 

It had been six years and the man she stared at... was different. He was intimidating to look at, almost scary. Sean was barely 18 when she last saw him, a boy really. This man was a stranger to her.

She shrugged his hand off of hers and tried to busy herself... not wanting to let her raw emotions show. 

When she walked towards a comfy couch in the corner, Sean followed. He sat on the far end but looked straight into her eyes...

"The truth is... I was a coward. I enlisted in the Army because I wanted to get away from New York and it seemed like the best option-"

"Get away from New York? But Why?"

Sean carefully looked at Sienna. And for the briefest of seconds a flash of pain slipped through Sean's eyes. Sienna caught it before he quickly masked his semblance. 

Sean sighed, "I just did. I was suffocating in the City. I needed get away... needed a change. I thought it'd be cool, like an adventure. As soon as I was deployed, I knew I had made a mistake but it was too late. I had to just suck it up... I was the one who signed up and I had to carry out my decision. So I decided to finish my tour and get out somehow. Afghanistan turned out to be a little too real and I saw a little too many things."

Sean's voice deepened slightly and shifted his body uncomfortably. 

He cleared his throat and continued, "But I shoved it all to the side. I kept thinking I had to prove something... be somebody. So I spent some time with our squadron's language interpreters and worked really hard to learn a couple of the native languages... You remember how you and I wanted to learn all the languages of the world but gave up and made up our own language instead?"

Sienna nodded her head as her eyes were brimmed with tears.

"We said we were going to learn all the languages and then travel to each country and order a cheeseburger and fries." She whispered and then let out a small chuckle.

Sean gave her a sad smile and nodded. "I ended up being really good at blending in with the local population. So much so, that I stumbled upon some important Intel without realizing it. Eventually I got recruited into covert operations for the CIA. I jumped at the opportunity because anything was better than where I was stationed.

As an operative, life was fast and dangerous just how I liked it. It helped the time seemed to be going by quickly. I was assigned one mission that was especially dangerous. It took longer than expected and some mistakes were made.

My identity was compromised and anyone that knew me was in danger. My superiors received information that there were enemy sleeper cells hovering close to New York and New Jersey. So they planned to fake my death to protect my family, they didn't want them to use you guys as leverage against me. It was always supposed to be temporary until my team could complete the mission and you guys were supposed to be fully aware that my death wasn't real. 

During the mission I had to go off the grid and I had no contact with the outside world. I didn't know what was going on until I came back. My close friend Mikhail from the agency found me in Turkey and told me what had happened. My superior, Deputy Director Carl Rollins, had been selling classified information to our enemies. All hell broke loose and I was classed a defector and traitor along with him. 

The agency believed I worked with Rollins so I had to go into hiding and I've been hiding out ever since. Since it was a classified mission you guys were simply never told I was actually still alive, it was in their best interest to keep me dead. So both the agency and the terrorists were after me. Whenever they'd get hot on my trail, I'd slip into another obscure country or city and assume another identity. So now I have to clear my name with the Agency and complete this last mission. After that I'm out."

Sienna's head hurt with all of Sean's revelations. What the fuck? He sounded like he was reading something straight out of an action novel. But when she looked in his eyes, she knew he was telling the truth. Anyone else she would call them on their bullshit but not Sean. She could read her brother like a book. No matter how much time had passed, she trusted him with her life. His story seemed impossible. But then it was also impossible to have him back from the dead.

"But why didn't you contact me?"

Sean shook his head. "I couldn't. Safe communication was next to impossible. I could check up on everyone back home, find out everything you were doing but couldn't get pass the borders. I couldn't risk getting caught in the U.S."

"It's been 5 years Sean; a note, a text, an email... anything. I needed you!" Sienna yelled; her eyes sprinkled with tears.

"Don't you think I fucking know that?!!" Sean roared.

Silence.

Sienna tears flowed down her brown cheeks and Sean's face flushed beet red.

"It's been 5 years, 3 months and 11 days, Cece. And I've felt every fucking second of it." Sean whispered as his deep voice cracked. 

His heavily muscled body was tense. In that moment he looked like a marble statue ready to crumble.

Instinctively, Sienna reached over and grabbed his hand. They stayed in that unmovable pose for what seemed like an eternity. 

Sean inhaled and exhaled.

"I had no idea when I could safely get back to New York. And I know you... if I would've sent you a note; you would have slowly gone crazy. You would have tracked and researched and probably have gotten yourself hurt and I couldn't be there to protect you. It had to be believable that I was dead, at least for a while. The only way I could see you was to get you out of the country."

"You're saying that all this time all I needed to do was travel?"

Sean nodded. "Don't you remember 2 years ago, you got a package in the mail saying you won a free trip to Paris? I sent you those tickets."

"I thought that was junk mail." Sienna whispered.

"Yea well it wasn't. I was trying to be creative but you wouldn't budge. Before that I tried to sneak into the U.S. through Niagara Falls, Canada but almost got caught. Then I tried to plan to get in through Mexico but that was too risky with the border patrols. So I just made up my mind to be patient and wait until the time was right to see you again."

Sienna slowly nodded and squeezed his hand a little harder.

She wiped an errant tear from her face and said, "I've missed you Sean... so much. I can't even start to explain. God, how I dreamed about seeing you again. There was always this thing in my heart that knew you were alive... I think Nicole knew it too."

Sean averted his eyes and cleared his throat. There it was again, that brief flash of pain quickly masked with a neutral face.

Sienna wondered what that was about. There were so many thoughts circling her mind.

"You know you can talk to me Sean. What else aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing." He said barely above a whisper.

Sienna's expression softened when she witnessed Sean's vulnerability. He obviously wasn't ready to talk but his clear green eyes were watery and his voice cracked as he spoke. This was new. Sean was always the confident, cocky, reckless, lovable one... never vulnerable. His pained eyes seemed almost detached from the present as he relived the past. 

Sienna inhaled and exhaled calming her emotions as she took his every word in. One thing was for sure, the past was the past. It couldn't be changed. She reached out and touched his shoulder. 

Sean turned towards her and wrapped her in a bear hug. He held her there for a long time. He could feel her vibrating shudders and sniffles. Sean inhaled deeply as he tried to tamper his own emotions.

Still in his embrace, she muffled, "Sean, I love you so much." 

Sienna pulled back and looked at him in the eyes, "I can feel you're holding some things back but for now I'm just glad to have you close by. Just know that I'm here for you. You can tell me anything."

Sean gave her a sad smile and kissed her forehead. He cleared his throat and said, "I can't stay long, but I'll be back."

"At least stay for dinner."

"I think I can manage that. Besides I have to grill this fiancée of yours. Congratulations, by the way. He's an interesting character."

As if summoned, Jason poked his head in the room. 

"Everything alright in here?"

Sean and Sienna nodded.

"Good, let's go downstairs for some dinner. Angela made a feast for us to enjoy."

As they walked to the dining room, Jason squeezed Sienna close to him. Sienna reached up and gave him a sweet kiss. There was much she needed to fill Jason in on.

When they made sure they were alone; they ate a delicious dinner and filled Sean in on the last 5 years of life in the U.S. Even though he already knew the general details, it was different hearing it from them.

Sean had never seen his sister so alive and happy as she was now. Jason and Sienna seemed to complement each other perfectly; even finishing each other's sentences. It was so cute it was downright nauseating. Sean was happy for Sienna; she deserved all the joy this world had to offer. 

When he saw Sienna's happiness, he felt a little twinge of sadness ... it was a happiness he could never have. 

The three of them seemed to mesh into conversation naturally. As if it wasn't odd at all that the presumably dead prodigal son was reclining at their table for dinner. 

Sienna was 'bursting at the seams' and wanted to tell someone, anyone about Sean's reappearance... but she couldn't. She didn't know all the specifics about what Sean was into but she knew she had to trust him. 

At dinner, she got a chance to really observe him. He was still charismatic Sean but he had become mature and reserved. Physically, Sean was always strong but he was now in perfect condition. His golden chest and arms looked like he could crush anything in sight. His shaved head made his leafy green eyes sparkle even more. His thick red lips looked like they could tell a million stories. It saddened Sienna to think he was alone all these years.

For Sean it was surreal to spend time with Sienna and Jason. He was aware of every aspect of their lives. He monitored Sienna while she worked and even knew when she met Jason. Sean was surprised to hear about their sister Suzy's attempt to break the happy couple up. Stupid girl, he thought. She paying for it now though, karma is a bitch. Hopefully, she'll learn her lesson.

Pretty soon the trio's laughter could be heard from down the hall. It warmed Sienna's heart to have her brother again. Unconsciously she reached for her necklace to play with the pendant and remembered it was gone.

"So what did you want my necklace for?"

"The key you had opens a safety deposit box that holds the proof that will clear my name. I hid it somewhere safe just in case they spotted you with me and tried to cause you harm. But as soon as I leave I'll travel and leave it with Mikhail and he'll handle the rest. Then I have to go underground and wait and see if it worked in clearing my name with the agency."

"Whatever you need Sean, you can count on our help." Jason said.

"Thanks man. You know, I used to think there was no one in the world that could ever deserve my sister... But it looks like I was wrong. You got a good man here, Cece. I'm happy for you both; it's all I ever wanted for you."

"You'll see baby brother... you'll find happiness again too." Sienna said with conviction.

"So, when is the wedding?" Sean asked, desperately trying to change the conversation.

Sienna and Jason looked at each other as if they had an inside joke. 

"We want to take the plunge as soon as possible... maybe next month?" Sienna said.

Jason gave her a reassuring kiss. 

"What's the rush?" Sean asked suspiciously.

Sienna giggled, a sure sign she was hiding something.

Sean narrowed his eyes at her and said, "Really? And when were you going to tell me?" 

"I was working up to it! We actually just found out, and you're the first to hear the news. Sooo... you're going to be an uncle." Sienna said smiling.

"Holy shit, an uncle! Congratulations." Sean said beaming. He gave Sienna a tight hug and a kiss on her head. "I'm so happy for you. You're gonna be a great mom."

"Thanks, Sean. You are the first person I would've wanted to tell. So I don't know how you're going to manage it but you have to be at our wedding. I won't have you miss any other big events in our life." Sienna said seriously.

"I can't risk it Cece. It's too dangerous."

Silence.

"How about a disguise?" Jason asked suddenly.

"I'm listening..." Sean said.

"Well, with some makeup and other props you can pose as my cousin. Your skin color is light enough that it just looks like you tan well. If you stay to yourself, people won't notice a thing. And that way you can even be in the wedding party. Since your family hasn't really met any of my family, no one will notice anything is off." Jason said.

Sean cocked his head to the side and was thinking thoughtfully.

"Hmm... that actually might work." 

"What about Sean's voice? Anyone from the family will be able to notice it."

"Well, he can just be really quiet and ignore any questions. Maybe they'll just think he's rude or something."

Sienna shrugged her shoulders. "I guess... And worst case scenario we could just tell the truth."

Sean shook his head, no.

"Everything will work out Sean."

Sean exhaled and looked at his sister thoughtfully.

"Alright, I'll do it."

Sienna clasped her hands and smiled brightly, "Yay! Ok great, Layla, our wedding planner will arrive tomorrow to start the planning. You'll have to get your disguise and identity flushed out before you meet her."

"Alright so I'm going to tie up some loose ends and then go underground here in Santorini. It'll take a while to see if I'm in the clear anyway. So I'll leave tonight and come back in a week. Jason, I'll contact you to iron out any details about your family."

"I'm so happy to have you back Sean." Sienna said as she squeezed his hand.

"It's good to be back." 

Sean wrinkled his eyebrows and then seriously said, "I don't know if I can handle seeing everyone again all at once, Cece."

"You have to trust everything will work out for the best, Sean. Don't worry about it so much. Your disguise will help you come back without having to tell anyone it's you. And when it's time for you to tell them, they will thank God you're alive. Everyone loves you."

Sean nodded and hugged her goodbye and rubbed her stomach. He looked at Jason and said, "Take care of them."

And with that he was gone.

Sienna exhaled and looked at Jason. There was a worried expression on her face when she thought of the complicated mess they were in. Sienna furrowed her brow and she could feel a headache coming. In turn Jason seemed completely at ease about this whole ordeal. 

Jason wickedly smiled and thought how he would enjoy relieving her stress. He squeezed her soft ass as they walked towards their bedroom and said "This should be an interesting wedding."

*********



Duplicity Ch. 01



Dear Reader: 

I've decided to add a prologue to this tale that may add something to this story that will be uncovered later 

***************************************

Prologue

"You're nothing!" the giant of a man growled into the face of the girl beneath him. "You tell anything of this and I'll have your beloved equerry flayed alive. Then I find you and I do this again and again! Understand?"

He, disgustingly bloated from a life of decadence, held the lithe, nubile young woman in place by her slender waist. Her sleeping gown was pulled up over her hips, giving him unfettered access to her womanhood. He grunted each time he pulled her hips back and forced his turgid cock into her tight pussy with each word he uttered. He laughed, his breath putrid a mouthful of near rotting teeth, hot in her face. Her cries of pain, anguish and humiliation went unheeded. He ignored her tears that flowed copiously down her cheeks. It didn't take him long before he grunted his release and flooded her with a spurt of fluids deep inside of her.

A miserable moan, full of anger, helplessness and disgust emitted from deep within her. Somehow she found the strength to roll away from under him. Somehow she was able to force her legs to move and carry her in a sprint from this monstrous beast who stole away all that was precious to her. Her little bare feet made light slapping sounds against the heavy stone. She took a tumble and her left knee came crashing down on the stone floor. For a moment she felt a strange sensation shoot through her, that quickly turned into a white-hot flash of pain. But she could not stop. She must keep moving even as she heard the rumbling guttural laughter behind her.

"You cannot run where I won't find you!" came the menacing voice behind her. "There's no one who can protect you. I have not finished with you yet!"

Chapter 1

*************************************

There were two types of beautiful women in young Philip Mallory's opinion: Those who understood the value and knew how to utilize her beauty, and those who did not. 

"It's like this," he explained to his friends. "All beautiful women are vain. The truly exceptional ones understands that a cultivated mind and enduring curiosity enhances her beauty better than anything. She thinks about her looks, but she also thinks of how to enhance her experience in this world with her beauty. Those I consider the type who knows how to utilize her beauty. For she realizes those looks will wilt as surely as the pedals on a rose. When they do fall away, she had better be married to a deserving husband or she faces a lifetime of unhappiness. Those who don't know how to utilize her God given graces will live with its short term benefits, till she wakes up one day with the realization-- her time is finite! Then this second set of women will scramble to preserve her charms with useless lotions and potions sold to her by any of charlatans residing in our fair city today. But the unfortunately lady would only be speeding her aging as she would have wasted herself worrying about the impending doom. Isn't that so, John?"

Gathered around the card table where Philip sat and opined, were both card players and spectators, all men of wealth, privilege and pedigree. Yet all eyes were on a singular figure seated across from Philip. This man, with his thick black hair, heavy dark brows and pale face was extremely large and powerfully built. By his dress -- sharply tailored black evening attire, crisp white shirt, high collar and cravat, he was like all the others. What made the others watch his handsome face with interest and deference was his quiet authority and measured movements as though he was constantly weighing something of importance no one else could detect. Every time he drew breath, the air crackled with coiled energy. This man puffed lightly on a freshly lit cigar as he studied his hand of cards. Then he flicked his deep-set blue eyes up till the lip of his long lashes nearly touched his heavy hooded brows and met Philip's earnest look. Ribbons of smoke rose around his handsome, chiseled face. He turned his chin slightly and spat out a piece of bitter tobacco leaf. 

"A woman's worth lies in how desirable she is to men," Lord John Mallory, Marquess of Devonport replied lazily. "That's all."

"Who bloody cares!" someone else cried out, exacerbated and full of impatience. "Make your wager and stop you're stalling, Philip." 

Philip ignored the comment as he tapped his cards' edge lightly on the surface of the table. "I find women fascinating. Such angelic creatures so beautiful and delicate. They truly are like flowers. And just like flowers, their bloom lasts but a moment. Yet they have such a wonderful view of the world. I love to hear them speak--"

"A woman's mouth is best used for one purpose and it's not for speaking!"

Laughter erupted around the table, but Philip continued, unphased. " Women are such fascinating creatures like hothouse flowers most of the time. Exquisite in their loveliness and intoxicating in their allure. I'm often surprised by how they differ from us men--"

"Ha!" one of the older man at the table scoffed. "When have you the chance to closely inspect the fairer sex?"

"I just mean---"

"--If you had you'd know they're about as ruthless if not more so than the most brutal ruffian. Beneath those lovely exteriors those cunts all have teeth and claws that would wound deeper than any saber. Mark my word!"

"Those of your acquaintance, Milton," Philip replied. "I speak of the high-born lady, gentle, refine and sweet no matter how cruel the world may be to her. I think we men would never bear some of their burdens with half the grace. I would venture to say their sex is far superior sex to our own."

Lord Davenport's chin jerked up slightly and he careless discarded a card and then picked up another. "Far superior? By what measure did you arrive at your conclusion? Which lady do you or I know has suffered more than being told she may not purchase another gown? Which lady possesses any distinct trait beyond the usual ability to sing, dance or look pretty in a new frock?"

"Ah, but women are naturally gifted with a softer, gentler nature, and therefore more capable of understanding subtle nuances we men are not. You disagree John?"

"Then their ability to deduce subtle nuances ought to have them wonder why they are placed beneath their fathers, brothers and husbands. Why it's commonly agreed that logic, which rules men's judgement, is vastly superior to emotions, which rules women's actions. There are a few women who may rise above the rest in the general esteem, but as an entire sex? Come, would you condescend to them with empty praises and false platitudes? Simply by saying they're superior does not erase a universal truth. But, I say, Philip, what sort of value do you place on these beauties?"

The men around then, seven or eight in all, enraptured in the last moments of an intense card game between the cousins, all roared with laughter when Lord Davenport fanned out four queens across the smooth surface of the table. 

Several arms reached out to the Marquess to thump him on the back as his long arms reached forth to scoop up his winnings from the center of the table. Phillips groaned with good hearted disappointment and he cursed softly at his two useless pairs. Damn! Philip's mind had been elsewhere and he hadn't had a winning hand all evening. Dragging a hand over his handsome face, Philip smiled sportingly and extended his right hand in defeat.

"Stick to deducting the intricacies of women's nature, you would-be Lamark" Lord Davenport teased Philip as the two men shook hands. "Games of chance are not for you."

"It's one thing to play at being a humanist" said Lord Milton, a childhood friend to both men. "Rather than observing and deducting, I say place those observations into practice. Either you are a practicing monk or you are even more secretive than Davenport here about who you are keeping company with at night?"

"I have no secrets!" Phillip said with a deep scarlet blush as he grabbed what remained of his little pile of chips off the table.

"Well I'd keep that under wraps before you're thought to be a puff ol' boy!" someone else said to another round of hearty laughter, earning them all a stern glower from Lord Davenport on his cousin's behalf.

Philip merely shrugged his shoulders, refusing to take the bait. "I don't see how talking about my conquests would make me more of a man." Philip cast a meaningful look at a few men around him. "No, I cannot dismiss the fairer sex so easily."

"Another hand Philip? Davenport?" Lord Milton asked. 

Philip Mallory shook his head no, as his youthful, handsome face suddenly clouded over as he impatiently slid back from the table. Philip swept an arm around the bustling, glittering, vaulted gaming room filled with a throng of noisy men all decked in their varying shades of black evening wear. "Is this what we've been reduced to? We few, we band of brothers of the aristocracy, of the most power empire on God's green earth?" 

At every card table huddled, shoulder to shoulder, groups of darkly clad, ruddy faced men. More gathered to watch as they chatted in hush voices over cigars and hard liquors. Attendants darted quietly and deftly around them to clean spills, clear empty glasses, and fetched more decanters of darkly amber color libations under a thick bluish, hazy cloud of cigar smoke. 

Phillip's light brown eyes took it all in at once and his shoulders slumped slightly as he continued. "Is this what you've been reduced to? You the peerage? Have you all little more to do than coming here night after night to these illustrious clubs to gamble away our fortunes or to twirl about elaborate Rococo ballrooms with the Season's debutantes? We, who are descendants of such conquerors have nothing better to do than engage in a bit of intrigue before death claims us all?"

"Yes!" exclaimed Lord Milton. "and I'm damned glad of it! Isn't this so much more preferable to constant warfare? You are a young man. You only know of the romanticized accounts told in books. Several of us lived through the darkness and the horrors of war, including your cousin here. There's nothing romantic or even glorious about it. Speaking of material comforts, my own fair lady awaits me. If we're not to play cards, I'll leave you to your musings, Phillip. My lords!" he stood up and bowed curtly to the company of young noblemen.

The cousins stood up with the rest of the table and inclined their heads towards Lord Milton before their friend departed. Someone was about to speak to Philip then, but Lord Davenport held up a hand and waved away the would be speaker. He held his cigar in one hand and clasped the other on his cousin's slender shoulders and led Phillip from the group.

.

"What's this about?" Lord Davenport inquired when they had a moment away from the rest. "You've been distracted all evening. I know I've taught you to play better than this?"

Philip sighed and took stock of the larger man leaning back casually against a carved banister. With a quick wave of Lord Davenport's hand, an attendant hurried forth to bring snifters of whiskey. 

"I've find myself restless lately," said Philip as he started gloomily into his cut crystal glass. "I envy you you're unaffectedness, John. You're so damned dashing, levelheaded and certain of yourself with your wealth and title. You are everything every young woman dreams of for her husband. If you were to offer for the Princess Royal herself, she would jump at the chance."

"Is matrimony on your mind then?" his lordship asked lazily. His sharp blue eyes studied the younger man's face for a moment. "Have you gone and fallen in love, you silly sod?"

Phillip's usually boisterous brown eyes were forlorn. "Love? I wouldn't call it love. Deep, hopeless infatuation perhaps. I've encountered God's most magnificent creation in my Lady Evelyn. I say this, even when this Season boosts of some of the most delectable debutantes ever to come out. I would have been perfectly happy settling for anyone of them and put my father's mind at ease. But no! I had to be enchanted by Venus herself and like Venus, she is out of my reach."

"Nothing is out of reach if one has the will to make it so," Lord Davenport replied coolly, blowing a puff of smoke into his whiskey glass. He allowed the smoke to swirl and dance wistfully in the glass for a bit before taking a drink.

"It is if she doesn't care for me. I certainly have nothing to recommend yourself. I will learn to forget her in time I suppose... Ugh! I thought of nothing else but her the moment I laid eyes on her. Her skin--! Those lurid, dark blue eyes! What a magnificent creature she is! How miserable I am!"

Lord Davenport sharply slapped his cousin's back in equal measures solidarity and sympathy.

When the two men stood side by side, there was no mistaking the family resemblance. It was in the shape of their deep-set eyes, the firmness in their jaw, and even the long athletic physique. Long ago Philip accepted his place in the shadow of his cousin. Lord Davenport exemplified masculinity that made other men seek his friendship, and made women vie for his notice. He was effortlessly seductive. 

Philip was noticeably the lesser of the two. He emitted the mild, reticent nature of a romantic poet to those who thought kindly of him. Those not inclined to be gracious would say his manners bespoke his status in life as the youngest son to a noble family of limited fortune and too many sons and daughters. In the small world of the aristocracy, who stood firmly in Fortune's favor, and who didn't was known to everyone, especially to every eligible young ladies in need of a husband. 

No one felt the imbalance of the cousins' circumstances more acutely at the moment than Lord Davenport. His lordship silently cursed women kind and felt justified in his own bachelorhood. All his years fighting France did not prepare him for the hordes of husband-seeking aristocratic young ladies who hunted him like game. He never met a bunch more merciless, more vicious or more duplicitous than the blue-blooded daughters and their mommas. It became his life's pleasure to deny any of them his title and wealth, choosing instead to keep the company of women who were well beyond those pursuits. 

Lord Davenport took another puff of his cigar before grounded it out on a near by ashing stand. "If your lady is only after a title, well then, no sooner does she gain a coat of arms will she realize it makes for poor companionship. Wait awhile and she will soon set her attention outside her marital bed. You'll have a chance between her milky thighs--"

"I don't want a chance to --!" Phillip protested immediately as his heart swelled from his eyes. "Do not be so boorish and cynical, John. No, no! Lady Evelyn is beauty incarnate through and through! She's too beautiful, too pure to marry for anything but love. She deserves nothing less than the love of a deserving man who will treasure her. I simply don't possess the qualities to interest her."

Lord Davenport could barely contain his eye roll at his melancholy cousin. "I doubt if your lady love could live long on the pedestal you've erected for her. Where does she fall in your spectrum of feminine types?"

"She defies categorization!"

Lord Davenport swallowed his irritation with Philip along with a mouthful of expensive whiskey. "May I never be similarly afflicted," he thought to himself. Out loud he said. "So who is this young lady then? I recall at least three Lady Evelyns."

"You would not know her as she's newly arrived from abroad. This is her first Season."

"Then who are her people? Would I know her father?"

"Not entirely clear. She resides with the Earl of Warwick's household at the moment. There's talk she has a distinguished guardian who provides for her. I never caught a family name and I never thought to ask."

"A bastard child of a lord perhaps?" Lord Davenport conjectured. 

"Perhaps, but I would not be surprised if she's the natural daughter of Zeus. Only a sister of Helen of Troy could be as exquisite as she--"

"Enough!" Lord Davenport tossed back the rest of his drink and slammed it down on a near by table, startling its occupants. 

"Let's go have a look at the girl. I'm sure to find some reason or flaw to set you free. I don't think I can stomach any more of your whining," Lord Davenport said with good-nature agitation. He threw an affectionate arm around Philip and headed towards the exit.

**************************************

Lady Evelyn was attending her second ball of the week, making it her fourth since she's been back to London. What a strange, violently wonderful place this city was, with its dark angry skies and impressive buildings and monuments, she had first thought. She would have preferred exploring more of the city itself but instead she found herself, stuffed and strapped into gown after gown as she's marched into ballroom after ballroom, salon after salon. 

Upon her arrival Evelyn had done nothing but attend ball after ball, theatres, salon recitals and all forms of functions designed to display young women of class and worth to the bon ton, in hopes of inciting an advantageous marriage. The other young ladies did not take too kindly to the beautiful, mysterious stranger amongst them, but haven't outright snubbed her as she was a guest, some say distant relative, of the Earl of Warwick. Upon further inquiry from the current Lady Warwick, Evelyn was introduced as the niece of the first Countess, who succumbed to a difficult childbirth long ago. 

That was as far as anyone knew of young Lady Evelyn, as she refused to speak of her life before her arrival. All questions to where she lived, her mother and father were all artfully dodged or she would look down at her clasped hands in stony silence. It wasn't the thing for a new comer to do and made her no friends at all. As soon as she left a room she could feel feminine tongues start to wag, and heard the venom-dripping whispers about other young ladies found wanting by the more established noble ladies. 

Lady Evelyn did not appear to mind being mostly ignored by the other young ladies though. That did not sit well with her detractors. They scowled at her arrogance and turned their nose up to her serene indifference. 

Beneath her polished exterior, however, Lady Evelyn was overwhelmed by it all. She allowed herself to be lead out for yet another dance by another handsome young nobleman with poetry on his lips and lust in his eyes. At this ball, as with all the others, there was little else to do but eat, drink, dance and make polite conversations neither amusing or enlightening. Evelyn thought it best to ignore the male eyes sneaking glances down her neckline when they pretended to admired her plain gold necklace with it's simple gold disk. At least THEY spoke to her. It was prudent to just ignore the snippets of feminine tongues as they savaged Evelyn's gown or mocked her lack of "proper" ornaments. Yes, it was best not to dwell on any of it or she would run screaming for the nearest exit. 

Evelyn lifted her eyes above the huddled bodies of the young and fashionable set, to admire the detailed work of the ballroom's fresco ceiling. As she twirled and swirled with all the other dancers, she prayed silently wished herself anywhere but in this ghastly place. 

And then--some the air shifted! It was a subtle change, but something was different!

An indescribable current rippled through the room like the growing rumble of thunder. It was only a rising murmur of excitement all around Evelyn. She noticed that everyone around her had their necks cranked towards the crowded grand entryway as they chattered excitedly. What was it? Who were they all looking at?




Duplicity Ch. 01



Through the throngs of shifting bodies, Evelyn finally caught sight of the genial Philip Mallory bowing over Lady Warwick's extended hand. Lady Warwick bowed deeply and inclined her head. How odd! It couldn't be Philip Mallory who created such a fuss. No! He was making gestures of introduction to his companion, a towering, broad-shouldered stranger that cause such interest. 

Evelyn tried for a better look as she twirled with her dance partner. This stranger was indeed admirable with classic good looks: thick inky black hair, broad forehead, long dark brows over deep set eyes on a pale, almost aquiline face. He stood proudly and not in the slightest affected by the commotion he caused. Instead he fixed his steady gaze down on a visibly flustered Lady Warwick as they spoke. In most ways he was no different than the other peers in his dress and stance, but there was something about him that marked him as different from them. 

"How fascinating," Evelyn muttered to herself. Such a proud visage! Such self-assuredness! She couldn't tear her eyes from him! 

Then, he turned towards the dance floor. She caught sight of a pair of icy blue eyes that made everything else fade away! A strange shudder shook Evelyn to her very core!

Her dance partner seemed not to have noticed her distraction and was saying to her. "My sisters just aquired a new grand piano, perhaps you'd come and regale us with your musical talents?"

"I dare not speak of my talents and your sisters in the same breath," Lady Evelyn replied, flustered, as she offered her partner a quick dimpled smile. Her dancing partner, so handsome only a moment ago, now seemed so plain and dull to her. 

"You are so delightfully self-effacing!" her companion exclaimed with an approving grin. He licked his lips as he undressed her with his hooded green eyes. 

Evelyn swallowed down her disgust at the obscene gesture. "Please, I must rest a bit. I'm faint and out of breath after so many reels."

Her companion immediate went to fetch her a drink as Evelyn sought out a vacant seat. She snapped open her fan and lightly fanned herself to cool her feverish skin. She observed the wide expanse of the ballroom as it swayed under the orbs of colorful silk, taffeta and chiffon skirts twirling and swishing all around her. The heat, the wine, the different notes of expensive soaps and perfumes made Evelyn's head spin. Her ear rang with tittering laughter, endless chatter, as it all blended into the vibrating melody the orchestra was playing. Through it all she felt several set of eyes studying her, evaluating her... suffocating her with the weight of their judgement. Unfortunately, the night was still young and it would be many hours before the first rays of dawn when anyone would think to leave.

Evelyn gaze sought out the tall, handsome stranger again. He was still speaking to Lady Warwick. He paid no attention to all the eager faces watching him so intensely as he swept a cool glance over the heads of those around him. He stood so calm and still, amongst the colorful chaos. 

Perhaps, there was no need to hurry away after all. 

*************************************************

Lord Davenport and Philip were engaged in the usual small talk with Lady Warwick. "G'evening Lady Warwick. I hope Lord Warwick is well." 

Lady Warwick flushed like a schoolgirl when the regal Marquess of Davenport bowed over her slender hand. She was well aware this was the first time the elusive Lord Davenport has spoken to her directly. One might say he scowled too much, or that his straight nose was slightly too long and his pale pink lips, though sensuous, was too thin and cruel, but one glance from his intense greyish blue eyes and any woman's honor and dignity was forfeit.

"Earl Warwick could not join us tonight?" asked Philip. He tried his best not to stare at one particular young woman in a flattering pale pink silk gown across the room.

"He is well enough, thank you, but he detests these thing," she replied though her gaze never left Lord Davenport's face. She wondered if the stories of the Marquess' sexual prowess were true. Lady Warwick had little doubt beneath his crisp white shirt and cravat he possessed the physique of a carved Adonis. The thought brought a blush up from somewhere down below, up to Lady Warwick's cheeks. Her elderly, valetudinarian husband was so far beyond the lusts of the flesh the still youthful Lady felt herself desperate for a man's touch. Especially this man!

Philip's gaze sought out Lady Evelyn who still sat alone, with her slender neck arched gracefully to speak to a pair of young dandies who gathered around her. "And how is your niece Lady Evelyn this evening? I hope she's enjoying London Society."

Lady Warwick chuckled merrily. "Why Mr. Mallory, I'm sure you are capable of asking her that question yourself." Please do, she thought and leave Lord Davenport by her side!

"She's well occupied," Philip said sadly as he watched her. "She has no shortage of admirers."

"Ah," Lady Warwick grumbled with an exaggerated sigh. "I fear the attention has spoiled her some what. I had hoped to be a moderating influence but she simply won't be guided."

"I can't say she needs much guidance," Philip countered softly. "Look how marvelously she handles herself there."

"She is young," Lord Davenport observed casually. "Young people, especially pretty young women, tend to be full of hubris, I find."

"Quite right my lord," Lady Warwick agreed with a beaming smile at Lord Davenport. " I believe her guardian, whoever he may be, kept her sheltered and unprepared for the attention she is receiving. She speaks too bluntly and judge too quickly. She paints well enough but she has no musical talents to be speak of. I would not say she has much guidance at all in her education. Such a lapse in a young woman's upbringing will be her downfall."

"You are not acquainted with her guardian?" Lord Davenport asked with sudden curiosity. "Who are her people that warrants her using the address of 'Lady'?"

Lady Warwick blinked rapidly up at Lord Davenport's alert gaze. She realized with a lump in the pit of her stomach that she may have said the wrong thing. The truth was she was the Earl's third wife for less than a handful of years and her husband rarely bothered to explain anything to her. There was much about London Society she was still unaccustomed to herself, though she was loathed to admit it. She did learn, in a world where connections and reputation was everything, it was crucial for her to chose her words wisely.

When Lady Warwick learned of Evelyn's addition to her household, she felt put upon as she had two unwed sisters living with her who were rapidly descending into spinsterhood. When she laid eyes on Lady Evelyn's blossoming beauty, Lady Warwick felt a tinge of jealousy which soon grew to resentment. 

Then Lady Warwick comforted herself with the thought: At last here was someone who was desperately in need of her guidance, who she might successfully launch into society after the disastrous debuts of her sisters. What Lady Warwick got was a willful young woman with the most baffling temperaments. All the beauty in the world would not make up for Lady Evelyn's impossible demeanor. Unlike other young ladies of her age and comparable good looks, she seemed not to care at all to spend her morning adorning herself with pretty clothes or flowers or jewels. Instead of seeking the friendship of other young ladies her own age, Evelyn spent her leisure time pouring over musky old volumes of neither poetry nor romances. While other young ladies took pride in their accomplishments in watercolors or music, Lady Evelyn would silently observe those around her with the unflinching, unabashed wide-eyed gaze of hers as though she could see to the very heart of those around her no matter what Lady Warwick said to her.

Lady Warwick tried to engage her young charge in light conversation with little success. Where did she call home? Lady Evelyn's thick fan-like lashes fluttered but she remained mute. Who was her guardian? Would he come to visit her soon? Those perfect lips pulled back in a small enigmatic smile, to merely reveal a pair of charming dimples in her dewy cheeks. That was always her response. Most days Lady Warwick had the distinct feeling Lady Evelyn was silently mocking the ladies of the Warwick household, till finally Lady Warwick gave up trying to form any sort of friendship with the impossible girl. 

Who was Lady Evelyn? More importantly, how might Lady Warwick explain the mysterious girl to this set she was so desperate to win acceptance from? This girl of such beauty that roused unavoidable notice and curiosity. 

"My husband is often forgetful," Lady Warwick said quickly with a warble that revealed her anxiety. "Often he assumes he has told me certain things when he has not. I've gathered Lady Evelyn is the orphaned niece of his first wife. He hasn't mentioned who has guardianship of the young lady, just that her people were titled, and of a sizable fortune. Even so, her upkeep shan't be a hardship to us. My husband can be very generous. TOO generous."

Both Philip and Lord Davenport grimaced at the open reference to money and recalled how Lord Warwick had married well beneath himself. 

Lord Davenport looked past the gouche Lady Warwick towards the lithe figure of young Lady Evelyn as she stood up to allow another one of her admirers to lead her to the center of the ballroom. She was unaware her little fan has slipped from her lap to the floor as she walked away. 

Under Lord Davenport's watchful eyes, Evelyn finally turned and revealed her full profile to him. Ah yes, it's no wonder Philip was so miserable. She was very handsome indeed! Her dark brows curved in high arches over her expressive eyes. He could see they were an unusual shade of dark blue, even from across the room. It would take a true master painter to capture her dainty little nose and the perfect curve of her bow-shaped lips. Her alabaster complexion was perfection, her eyes the right shape of almond to make them appear mysterious and almost exotic. French, perhaps.

Lord Davenport realized he was gaping. He cleared his throat into his fist and casually scanned the rest of the room. He couldn't keep his gaze from her for long though and soon found himself straining to see her in her pink silk frock over the other twirling dancers. She moved in perfect timing to the music with easy, unstudied grace. The dance ended and she glided away to make way for other dancers. From the eagerness of her companion's face she was delighting him with whatever she was saying. Then again, she could be reciting the Lord's prayer with those perfectly shaped red lips and her admirers would claim she was the most interesting conversationalist, Lord Davenport thought archly.

"Lord Davenport!"

His lordship turned, silently irritated to be interrupted by an old acquaintance. He half listened to the stream of consciousness pouring from this man whose name Lord Davenport didn't care to recall at that moment. Some bits and pieces of the latest gossip, the next by-election projection, the status of expansion in the East and even Lord Davenport's annual hunt. Lord Davenport gave terse, one-word replies as his mind wandered again and again Lady Evelyn's dropped fan. Perhaps someone else had seen it and picked it up while he was struck in yet another dreary conversation! Luckily, his acquaintance soon moved on and several young women closed in around Lady Warwick and Philip. It gave him the perfect chance to slip from the group. He barely registered the collective drop of feminine shoulders as he retreated.

Lord Davenport moved around the perimeter of the ballroom, exchanging polite bows with those he recognized and a curt nod to those whom he did not. With subtle gestures he dissuade anyone else from approaching him. Lord Davenport was no in the mood to speak to anyone. He had a singular focus to know more about this young lady. Was it for his cousin's sake or his own, he was no longer certain. He managed to reached where he had seen Lady Evelyn's fan fall on the floor without difficulty. The little ivory and colorful silk piece was still there on the floor, peaking out from behind a chair leg and he picked it up and pocketed quickly. 

After another turn on the dance floor, Evelyn receded once more to join the lookers on to catch her breath. Tiny beads of perspiration had formed along her hairline and she flushed in a pretty shade of deep rose to her companion's delight.

"You dance so angelically!" her latest partner said with breathless eagerness. She had forgotten his name. "Will honor me with another and make me the happiest man alive?"

"Please, sir!" Evelyn protested with a good natured smile. "I must rest a bit! Surely there are other young ladies here equal to the task."

Her young and earnest companion clasped both hands to his heart, earnestly. "How could I think of anyone else when I have eyes only for you Lady Evelyn? Oh my lady, you are simply radiant!"

Evelyn smiled placatingly, through gritted teeth, at her companion's ardor. "You are too kind, sir, but I see several ladies of far greater beauty if you'd only look."

"Never, my lady!" her companion exclaimed gallantly. "Your beauty surpasses all others. You bloom like a rose right before my eyes."

Evelyn's cheeks dimpled again, only slightly. "Please do not compare me to a rose, sir! It has too many thorns and wilts all too quickly!"

"Then you are like the sun and shines bright eternally!" the young man declared in earnest.

"I cannot liken myself to something so bright that blinds anyone from looking at me too long," she replied steadily to suppress her irritation, but he seemed oblivious to her growing weariness. 

The handsome young man, by the name of Henry Wilkes, was use to young ladies giggle and flush prettily at his flattery. He was being utterly charming but Lady Evelyn appeared unmoved. It was getting increasingly impossible to maintain his wide smile but he quickly reminded himself of Lady Evelyn's rumored 100,000 pounds a year. With his mounting debts, and miserly father, he would withstand a hail of arrows lobbed at him if he had a chance at such a handsome income. His motivation wasn't purely mercenary of course. Lady Evelyn's beauty alone would have compelled him to pursue her. The reports of her wealth just added to his determination to win her.

"My lady," he tried again. "To what should I compare you to then? You shall name the thing and I will compose sonnets in agreement." 

A loud snort had Henry Wilkes look over Lady Evelyn's shoulder to see the imposing visage of the Marquess of Davenport! Henry had the good sense to feel mortified. Of all the luck to have his clumsy attempt at romance witnessed by the urbane Lord Davenport. Of all the luck indeed! 

"I won't compare myself to anything at all," Lady Evelyn was saying, calling the young man's attention back to her. "I cannot withstand such scrutiny."

Evelyn had danced three more dances, with as many partners, before she noticed her fan was gone. The heat and din from the music made it hard for her to think clearly. Where on earth was her fan? It was a gift from her brother and her favorite piece. She glanced around the floor where she had been sitting before. Seeing nothing, she wondered if someone had picked it up and placed it on one of the side tables out in the gallery. Before any of her over eager admirers noticed her, she quickly ducked out into the empty gallery. She searched every gilded surface and was just about to give up when a voice spoke from behind her.

"Good evening, Lady Evelyn!" said a deep masculine voice.

Even before Evelyn turned to see who addressed her, she somehow knew it would be him. That deep voice with a velvety cadence could only belong to one man! 

Evelyn peered over her shoulder before turning around. It was indeed Philip Mallory's friend. He stepped out of the shadows of the dimly lit gallery and towered over her. She felt her cheeks flush hotly and her heart lurch in his presence. Could he hear how rapidly her heart started to beat in the empty gallery? Before she forgot herself completely and just stood there dumbly Evelyn quickly dipped into a deep curtsey. 

"My lord," she said breathlessly. 

"I've not the pleasure of an introduction though you seemed to have left quite an impression on everyone you've met," he said smoothly after offering her a slight incline of his head. He stood tall and erect with his hands clasped behind his back. "Especially my cousin."

Evelyn felt small and girlish before this man. "Your cousin? Oh! Mr. Mallory, you mean?" she asked. "I only had the pleasure of speaking to him briefly once or twice. I cannot imagine what sort of impression I may have made."

The corner of his eyes crinkled slightly in a smile that did not touch his lips. "It was... favorable."

Evelyn's blush deepened. When she lowered her blushing cheeks slightly at the compliment, it allowed him an unfettered look at glossy dark hair swept away from her pretty face. Up close her natural beauty shone brilliantly and unencumbered by frilly things young girls often wore to entice men. She wore some flowers in her hair and a rather plain, inexpensive gold pendant necklace that nestled between her swelling cleavage. His eyes stayed on her admirable decolletage. His pulse quickened and he felt his response to her as a dull ache deep within. 

"Of course, you are well aware of your own charms," he said, his voice thicker than before. "If not, we can call on Henry Wilkes to point them out to you again." 

"He flatters me." Evelyn didn't know where to look. She wanted this man to find her pleasing but she was inexplicably overwhelmed with embarrassment that this man overheard young Henry Wilkes' ardor. "His admiration was entirely misplaced."

"Careful," he cautioned, arching a long dark eyebrow meaningfully at her. "Excess modesty is but a guise for extreme hubris."

Evelyn smiled a dimpled smile at his gentle teasing. "Would you be more likely to believe me if I said I haven't been here long enough to do anything to earn such admiration?"

"You don't want to be liked?"

"Oh I want their good opinion-- if I've earned them. I just think I'm favored at the moment because I'm a stranger. There's nothing more exciting than something new, I think." 

His lips parted as he almost smiled. Almost. "Novelty, without substance, quickly loses its appeal."

"Precisely."

"You don't believe you possess substance?"

"I cannot judge that of myself."

"True, but most young ladies, love to be immersed with constant adoration," he said. "Deserved or not."

Evelyn laced her long tapered fingers together and pulled on them nervously. This was the oddest conversation she's ever had with a stranger. And this handsome man, whose name she still did not know, spoke to her as though they were they oldest of acquaintances. "I like my compliments to be deserved from those who know me well. Coming from strangers they are rather distressing."

"Distressing? Why?" he asked. 

"Those who don't know me see but one attribute " Evelyn replied. It was becoming harder and harder for her to keep her voice steady and her thoughts coherent under the steady scrutiny of this impossibly handsome, physically imposing, man. "They draw their opinions and conclusions based on my outward appearance alone. I shall be afraid to do or say anything out of fear of disturbing their admiration out of vanity. That would be most distressing as I hope never to disappoint anyone, least of all myself." 

He rocked back on his heels a bit. "Isn't that why you're here?" he asked. "To be scrutinized for your physical attributes? Isn't the Season designed for your sex to flaunt your pretty figures to be judged and admired for the sake of this marriage market?"




Duplicity Ch. 01



Evelyn wasn't shocked by his frank assertion. It elicited a slight giggle from her instead. "The marriage market? Ah yes! I half expected someone to examine my teeth shortly!"

Evelyn was unaware a pool of moonlight from the large french windows had cast a pale halo around her when she smiled up at him. Her perfect white smile took Lord Davenport's breath away and drew him closer. He was having trouble keeping himself composed. Her lovely face mesmerized him. Her curvaceous body drew him closer. Her faint, light powdery scent intoxicated him. He quickly curbed his growing desire to assess the circumstance. It was not unheard of to seduce a debutant, but the consequences would be steep. There was usually an outraged father or guardian to demand honor upheld. However, if what Lady Warwick said was true, then Lady Evelyn's murky familial ties, meant there were fewer obstacles in his way. And she-- why, she seemed not in the least bit uncomfortable being alone with a man, a stranger at that. 

"I'm told you only recently arrived from abroad? Where's home for you?" he asked.

She jerked her chin which called his attention once more to the elegant lines of her neck down to the swell of her supple breasts. His fingers itched to touch the supple twin globes. From his vantage, he could clearly see there were faint etching of an "E" on her gold necklace. If she noticed him looking, she made no indication of it. "You seem to know much about me and I know nothing of you, my lord. To whom do I have the honor of addressing? "

"You're presently reside with the Warwicks," he said instead of addressing her question, "But where you are from or who your people are remains in the dark. Would you at least give me your family name?"

Evelyn bit her lower lip with a slight frown. Even though neither his casual expression or his tone has changed, she suddenly felt uneasy under the heat and intensity of his icy-blue gaze. With her heart pounding loudly in her chest, she realized she was was very much alone out here with this strange man. 

"You must pardon me, but I have trouble recollecting what I've said or didn't say to everyone I've met," she replied, slowly, carefully. 

He moved closer and towered so close over her she could see clearly a shadow of stubble on his firm chin. "Or you are artfully dodging my questions. Quite skillfully I might add"

There were those dimples again though her smile was more hesitant now. "You give me too much credit, my lord. I'm not so interesting as you seem to think. I assure you after another week you will lose interest in me. There will always be someone younger, more beautiful and far more accomplished waiting in the wings." She nodded towards the general direction of the ballroom. 

Lord Davenport followed her gaze back to the ballroom, all aglow with warm, dancing orange lights. Several silhouettes were rapidly approaching them. Without even thinking, he took ahold of her elbow and pulled her towards a set of french doors out onto a terrace before they could be detected. Evelyn didn't have time to object.

"What are you doing?" she asked more out of curiosity than alarm once they were out in the moonlight bathed flagstones. Out here, echos of the music and sounds from the ballroom vibrated from the stones under her feet. "I don't believe it's customary for a man to handle a young lady he just met. I-I don't even know your name, sir!"

He drew her, with a gentle tug, still further into the shadows of a well trimmed shrubbery. It took some will to keep his hand steady on her elbow when he desperately wanted to explore the rest of her. 

"That is, if you are indeed a lady!" he said, his breath hot on her face. 

"Sir!" Evelyn gasp as cold fear gripped her heart. One moment he had been so gentle and courteous, the next his whole demeanour turned dreadful. 

"I know my lot and you, LADY Evelyn, are out of the norm." His tone remained soft, but his words were meant to be cruel. "You carry yourself well and you speak with impeccable cadences, but you are not quite right are you? Your story of being the late Lady Warwick's niece is convenient, as the lady could hardly return from the grave to contest your claim! But you've artfully dodged all further probing which leads me to believe you are deliberately hiding your origins."

"What an outrageous thing to say my lord! I will direct you to speak to Earl Warwick if you must!" she said, her voice warbled. How could she ever think he was pleasing in any way! 

He sneered at her suggestion. "I would not rely on that invalid to give me the time."

She tried to wrestle her elbow out of his clutch, but he held her tight. His eyes grew darker. "Oh, I've observed you. You have studied the movements of an accomplished young lady, but you are not. What are you? A cunning demi-rep here to fascinate and seduce your betters? I know your type well, you see. Did your father, or whoever keeps you, devise a clever plan to lift you from your humble origins?"

Evelyn flushed hotly. "Is it so easy to infiltrate your set then?" she quipped sardonically. "I wonder why more haven't tried."

A corner of Lord Davenport's lips curled upwards in a half smile. He admired her attempt at self control. She did not scream, swoon or panic. Her pretty face showed no fear of him even when he could feel her tremble. It was obvious, why she beguiled Philip so much. Poor Philip, he thought, then quickly pushed Philip from his thoughts. He held onto her easily with one hand and with the other, reached up to squeeze her supple cheeks till her plump lips pursed and popped open. 

He smiled at how prettily she flushed, and absently stroked her satiny cheek with his thumb. "No denial? Then I assume I'm right. What do you think they will do to you for being a fraud? Who will stand up for you when the truth comes to light? They may throw you into some dark, dank prison for fraud-- or worse!"

She forcefully jerked her face from his grasp. "I won't dignify baseless accusations with a response. Especially from men I don't know!" she spat out with fire in her eyes. "You have no right to speak to me this way!"

"Haven't I? Shall I let you go on making a fool of everyone? Come! Confess to me and I may yet protect you," he said, letting his tone to finally reveal his true intentions. 

Evelyn's rosey lips parted then snapped shut as she stared up at him with fire and ice in her deep blue eyes. "Good evening sir!" she spat out and turned to go. Just then, he pulled something from his pocket and held it up to her. Evelyn instantly recognized her fan reached out to grab it. She wasn't quick enough. He jerked it out of her reach with a roguish chuckle. 

"What do you want?" she demanded indignantly with a stomp of her right foot.

Lord Davenport knew what he wanted, and what he was certain to have. He over her glossy tresses, over her beautiful face to her plush red lips. If he didn't take care the maddening desire to have her just might drive him to lose his tightly coiled control. 

"Well?" she demanded. She stood before him like a wronged princess, full of dignified rage. 

Evelyn flinched slightly as he stalked towards her and used the edge of her fan to lightly caress the outline of her bodice, then up to the naked flesh swelling above it. He dragged it lightly over the swell of her exposed flesh before lifting her necklace chain for a brief, disdainful glance. She shuddered when the cold, hard pendant dropped back against her warm flesh, but she stood firm and did not take her eyes from his face. 

"Take care," he warned huskily. It took some will, but he resisted the urge to drag her into the bushes then to make her see just how vulnerable she was, a girl in her position. "Take care you don't overplay your hand with this lot. All eyes are on you. When they are not longer amused by your little lies and omissions, you may need a friend--"

. 

"You have quite the imagination, my lord," she retorted. She held out her hands, palms up. "Tell your story to whomever you please. My truth is my own and cannot be changed by innuendo and baseless conjecture from a stranger! You're no friend of mine. You've no honor and you're a brute! Good evening!" With a flick of a wrist, she snatched the fan from him and stormed back into the ball. 

******

It took Philip several attempts to extricate himself from the Lady Warwick and her gaggle of female friends. His breeding and sensitive nature didn't allow him to rudely step away when they were asking after his father, mother and older brothers. He smiled politely when they wanted to know where the Marquess of Devonport planned to spend the rest of the Season. Would Lord Davenport be attending the Summer Exhibition or the Ascot? Might the cousins come to tea at the Warwick's soon? 

Several times Philip found himself craning his neck over the heads of the throngs of bodies for his cousin's distinct figure. His cousin seemed to have disappeared altogether. He drew in a sharp breath, involuntarily, when he saw the resplendent Lady Evelyn dash into the ballroom. A few strands of her thick locks hung loosely from her chignon, her delicate cheeks appear more flushed as she paused in mid stride when she saw several people staring. She offered a half smile as she regained her composure and glided behind some bodies and disappear from Philip's view. 

The hair on the back of Philip's neck stood on its ends as he waited with his heart in his throat. No one else but Philip noticed his cousin slowly and steadily emerge from the same spot as Lady Evelyn, pause almost exactly where she had a moment before. Lord Davenport's sweeping glance caught Philip's stare, and immediately came to join Philip again without betraying a single emotion. 



Duplicity Ch. 01



Now, I’m not overly fond of violence. Nor am I very strong. I was, more or less unarmed, and was completely unaware of how many people were in the alley.

I didn’t hesitate.

The sight that greeted me was of a woman being bent over a crate that had been thrown back there. Her slacks and panties were down around her ankles, and the man behind her was undoing his pants. In front of her, a man had just pulled a hard penis out of her mouth, and was spraying her face with his cum. She was crying.

I smashed my guitar, my precious traveling companion, over the head of the man behind her. He hit the ground, hard. The man in front of her finished spraying his cum all over her face, and was rather disappointed, when he opened his eyes, to find a long length of wood stuck in his chest. My guitar had fortuitously shattered into rather stabbable (I know that isn’t a word, but you get what I’m saying) pieces, and I had made haste to make use of my good fortune. In my rage, I didn’t realize that I may have accidentally killed a man.

I had, however. As the rage left me, I quickly let go of my end of the wood shard, letting the man fall to the dirty ground. The woman stood up and looked me over. She hadn’t wiped her face off yet, and some of the cum was dripping onto her shirt.

I silently handed her a handkerchief, and she nodded her thanks, wiping herself off. Then she tried to hand the handkerchief back. “Errrr…you can keep it,” I said. I didn’t particularly want to touch the cum-stained rag again. She nodded and threw it in a nearby trash can.

“You saved my life,” she stated. Her voice made me smile. Even as low as she had to be feeling, it was almost musical. I slowly took in her features, and found that she was also gorgeous. A flowing mane of red hair, with piercing green eyes, and an extremely aristocratic face. She was easily one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen.

I summoned a smile from the part of my mind that wasn’t dazed at the atrocity I had just committed, and said, “I couldn’t very well leave you like that.”

She cocked her head to one side. “Many would have.”

I nodded, knowing this to be true, but was unable to come up with any sort of witty rejoinder. My mind was only partially aware of what was going on.

It came as something of a shock when she reached out and slapped me, once, hard across my cheek. “Ow,” I cried out. “What the hell was that for? That stung.” I was a little pissed off. I had just saved her. Hey, wait…I was thinking again! “Nevermind,” I said. “Thanks.”

She smiled, now, too, and it lit up her face. “It was little compared to what you did,” she told me.

Just then, I saw a flashing light on the walls of the alley, and a police cruiser pulled up. “Shit,” I cried out, remembering that I had just committed murder.

She put a serious face back on, and looked me in the eyes. “Let me handle this,” she said. 

She pulled out her wallet and let the approaching police officers come to us. They officers noticed the dead body and the dazed one, and noticed the shards of guitar. They had seen me playing earlier; they knew whose guitar that was.

One of the officers, Jeff, shook his head as he walked towards me, handcuffs out. I could tell he was about to cuff me and read me my rights, but the woman in the alley interrupted.

She touched the officer’s chest and flashed him something from her wallet. “This man,” she said, kicking the still-living body, “should be charged with assaulting a federal agent.” She followed up and said, “This man,” kicking me (and it hurt, too), “should be given a god damned medal. As it is, you will take care of the two bodies here. We will leave, and I will get back to you tomorrow.”

The officers let us go.

We reached a hotel, and found we were both staying at the same one. We went up to her room for drinks.

As I sat there, sipping a Pepsi (I don’t drink alcohol. My parents were killed by a drunk driver, and I’ve never been able to stomach it), I said, “Sooooo…you’re a federal agent.” I had meant to work up to that, but it just came out.

She nodded, however, unsurprised by the question. “FBI,” she informed me. “My name is Megan Simms.” She didn’t go into detail as to why she was in Chicago at the time, and I didn’t ask.

So, we stayed up and talked. She talked to me about all the places she had visited (more than me, surprisingly, but we had a lot of fun comparing notes on all the different places our travels had taken us), and I talked to her about Elizabeth and our upcoming wedding. 

Her reaction to my description of the second phone call was surprising. “Don’t marry her,” she advised. “She’s a bitch, and you seem like a nice guy.”

I was a little stunned by this. “Why do you say that?” I asked. She just shook her head. 

“Here’s my home number,” she said, handing it to me. “Give me a call sometime, if you need any help with anything.”

I smiled and gave her my own number, and invited her to the wedding. She just smiled cryptically, and more than a bit sadly, and declined.

I went back to my room, three floors up, and fell fast asleep, ready to get on the plane home the next morning.

I called her parents the next day, before I went home. They just kept laughing at me. And here I had thought Elizabeth had won them over. 

I hung up after I realized that I probably wouldn’t get a coherent word from either of them.

So, an hour later, I stood outside my house. Staring at it, smiling. Looking up in a window, I could see Elizabeth taking her shirt off. She was probably preparing for an early night in bed. I could see the glow of our big screen TV behind her. She was probably watching a movie in bed, I had thought. She would be so thrilled when I came up to the bedroom with a big bowl of popcorn.

I entered the house as silently as possible, wanting to surprise her. As I was making the popcorn, I could hear a few faint moans coming down through the ceiling. Was she watching a porno? I didn’t take her for the type, but I couldn’t be positive.

Anyways, popcorn made, I made my way stealthily up the stairs. Thankfully, they didn’t creak (I had been sneaking up and down these stairs since I could walk. I knew every creaky spot on them). I reached her room, and began to nudge open the door.

Holy fuck. No no no no no no no. No.

Elizabeth was on all fours, on MY bed. Her raven black hair was being tossed around as she moaned and groaned, shaking in orgasmic delight. My brother, Tod, was behind her, humping away. He pushed himself into her, fast and hard. I could hear as his hips connected with her tight ass, as his cock filled her, repeatedly, as full as she could be.

No.

I dropped the popcorn bowl when I heard Tod cry out, “I’m cumming inside of you!” and Elizabeth answer, “Yes, yes, he’ll never know the difference! You’re brothers! Fill me!”

The shattering glass on the ground distracted them both from the seed that was rapidly filling Elizabeth’s womb. Elizabeth stared at me in horror. “No,” she began to moan. Tod just laughed. “Well, little brother, it looks like I win again,” he said, as his seed filled my fiancée.

Elizabeth was crying, now. “Please, don’t leave. I can explain!” She tried to get up, but Tod held them together, wanting to get all his potent seed in to her. “Please!” she cried.

I was already gone. I grabbed my traveling bag and a new guitar, and left without looking back.

I knew Tod wouldn’t marry her. He never married his whores, and that’s all they were to him. Once he tired of them, or they got pregnant, he left them. They generally got pregnant first, as Tod refused to use protection. 

It all crystallized for me, at that moment. The phone call, the panting, the cries of “Yes!” She had been deceiving me, deliberately, for quite some time, and had intended to continue doing so after the wedding. 

I saw now why Megan didn’t think I should marry Elizabeth. It seems that everyone but me had had doubts about her love and loyalty. 

How could I have been so blind? I don’t know. Were there signs there, before the phone call, that I just hadn’t been able to pick up on? 

I don’t know. I hit the streets that night without looking back. Most of the possessions in the house were Elizabeth’s anyways, so I didn’t mind leaving it to her. I sold it to her, actually, for a hundred thousand dollars. 

So, besides the family fortune, I now had the money from my house. I was rich, and I had no commitments to tie me down. What was I to do?

I took up my guitar, and began walking. Slowly, as I strummed and walked, my dark mood began to lighten up. I began to whistle as I played, and soon, there wasn’t a sad thought in my head. 



Duplicity Ch. 02



Hello everyone,

First of all I really have to apologize for how long it's taken to post chapter 2. It's always my intention to write as fast as possible because I hate keeping my readers waiting. Unfortunately I didn't count on just plain old stuff happening. First I needed to get a little distance from the story and write something else. Then a bunch of "life" happened (some of which I'll include in the other stories I'm working on). THEN I just had a major block with this story... I had no inspiration to write whatsoever. I kept second guessing myself and kept changing things around. But I'm glad to say I'm back. I hope you enjoy this chapter... it's is mainly an intro to a new character. So hang tight the story will unfold and come together in the next couple chapters. Thanks to honeybree for her great editing. Thank you for taking the time to read and don't forget to comment and vote. ;) -- p2p

Layla Coldwell was having a mild panic attack.

As a wedding planner, her job was to remain calm, collected and methodical. While her clients and their families fell apart with the stress of a wedding, she was there to pick the pieces up and execute the job flawlessly. The ever skilled professional, her clients only had great things to say about her. Although behind her back she was dubbed "the Enforcer."

At the moment she was breathing deeply and willing her panic attack away. She hadn't had one in over a year. This was a high profile client and she couldn't afford to screw it up.

Jason Bane found her through a reference and called to tell her about his upcoming nuptials. She jumped at the opportunity. This would be great for her newly launched event planning business. She thought he would say their wedding date was at least 6 months from now.

She nearly coughed up her tongue when he said the wedding was in one month. It did help that there was no limit to the budget but honestly it would take an act of God to pull this off. But her panic attack symptoms came when she found out she would have to fly out for the wedding.

She did not fly. There was no way she could do it. There was no way she would do it.

But then again... this was Jason Bane's wedding.

This was the type of client she needed for her portfolio. Any wedding planner would kill for this account. The needs of her business overrode her insignificant fears. She would just have to suck it up and deal with it.

When the man finished talking, it took her a total of ten seconds to respond despite her insides being twisted into knots. Still, like a cow walking to its slaughter, Layla accepted and booked the first plane out.

Immediately Layla went into planning mode. She needed to have some ideas already in mind before she arrived. She thumbed through her digital albums to see some of her latest wedding events.

God, she hoped his fiancée wasn't a snobby bitch. Unfortunately, it was almost always the case with high profile clients. Gold-digging whores burrowed themselves into these handsome men's bed and bank accounts.

The last bride Rebecca Whitmore was a piece of work. She'd throw tantrums like two-year old without a toy at playtime. How could someone hate everything and love everything at the same time? In the end, Layla's blood, sweat and OCD made the wedding a vision of perfection.

However, Ms. Rebecca Whit-Whore never saw it. She drained their sizable joint bank account and ran off with the pool boy the night before the wedding.

After it was all said and done, Layla felt mostly bad for the groom. He was so clueless; still trying to get her back. It was depressing really.

So Layla was fortunate the Bane account came through when it did, since it was a chance for her company to move on from that scandalous wedding. Hopefully the Bane wedding will be a straight-forward subdued event...

At the JFK airport counter, Layla nervously re-organized her boarding documents.

Tucked away in a labeled folder, all the documents faced the same direction in alpha-numeric order. She created a manual with emergency numbers, U.S. embassy locations, travel checks, contingency plans and a multi-language dictionary.

Her packed luggage was even more painstakingly detailed. On the left side, her clothing was perfectly color coordinated, ironed and compartmentalized in labeled waterproof pouches. Her large planning binders were tucked on the right hand side. She had everything in digital form as well but she found some people preferred the feel of a real book and photos. So she was prepared for whatever personality she'd encounter.

She nibbled on her perfectly manicured nails and fretted about the trip. She wanted to kick herself at the flight she chose. She thought she could manage her little fear of flying problem by getting there slowly, with several layovers. But that was just delaying the inevitable.

Her flight trajectory went from New York City to Heathrow airport in London and then towards Athens; where she would take a ferry to the island of Santorini towards the Bane estate.

As Layla waited to board the Boeing 747 she took a couple of heavy sedatives. This would help her catch up on some much needed sleep and would ease her nerves. She needed to be completely alert and on point for this event.

The airplane cabin was completely full and felt stuffy even though it was really quite spacious. Layla made sure her carry-on luggage was securely stowed away in the overhead compartment. She felt there needed to be at least 6 inches of space between the surrounding luggages.

Before sitting, she sanitized her seat's arm rest and asked the flight attendant for 3 blankets and 2 pillows. Her decisive tone brokered no argument as to how quickly she expected it in return.

When the flight attendant returned, she was surprised to see one of the blankets was to be used to cover the seat's headrest.

"Germs spread with little encouragement." Layla coldly answered the un-asked question.

The attendant pursed her lips, gave her a sarcastic slight nod and walked away.

Finally, Layla graciously sat down over the freshly laid blanket and the other blanket she modestly placed over her legs.

She sat very still; her shoulders and neck were perfectly aligned.

Some of the surrounding seated people stared at her with interest. She definitely seemed out of place. Her upturned nose and etiquette was uncomfortably proper for the setting.

It felt as if the royal family sent a representative to take note of the sloppy ones.

Layla turned her body to the left and then to the right.

Her long shapely legs were crammed into the space. She adjusted her navy blue pencil skirt while she sincerely tried to make herself comfortable. The crisp white button down shirt held a sharp contrast with her cinnamon colored skin. Just hint of modest cleavage graced her top and a long ultra-thin gold chain with a small pendant laid snuggly between her full breasts. Her shiny long black hair glimmered in the overhead cabin light.

She felt her eyes drift as the attendants made the usual safety announcements. She hadn't been sleeping because honestly she never really slept well. She chalked it up to stress from starting her own business. But in actuality Layla was a worrier. A tightly wound, human organizer... had been since puberty.

Situations never got out of her control and she thrived in achieving the impossible. Hence her appeal as a wedding planner.

Sitting in her assigned window seat, Layla wondered when those delightful pills would kick in completely. She wanted to be out cold by lift off. It's so frustrating when your body is slowly shutting down from exhaustion and yet your brain doesn't want to cooperate.

Every time blissful sleep almost took her, she was awoken by the sounds around her.

A couple seats up, some older ladies talked in loud voices. The pilot announced something about speed and altitude. A flight attendant accommodated an obnoxious passenger. Whatever it was, there was always something depriving Layla of her sleep.

At the moment there was a crying baby sitting right behind her. It was amazing how powerful that infant's lungs were... the piercing sound rang directly behind Layla's ear.

It was like a gut-wrenching concert accompanied by the melody of the mother's soothing voice.

Undoubtedly the child was fiercely fighting sleep... even though it would swiftly come regardless of its effort to stop it.

Layla knew the feeling because at the same time her subconscious battled sleep... even though she desperately needed it. She covered herself with the remaining blanket, stuck her headphones in and rested her head on the window.

The baby's high-pitched wails, the mother's comforting voice and Layla's playlist were in unison...

And curiously the combination of sounds brought Layla the most comfort.

As her half-lidded warm brown eyes stared out of her small window... blackness engulfed the night. She squinted and tried to make out anything distinguishable. The plane's wingtip lights twinkled as if in response.

As her eyes adjusted, she caught her reflection in the window and it disturbed her...

She shut her eyes tight and braced for lift off. There was a sudden need to focus on breathing. She felt herself tense as she gripped the arm rest. It was her body's feeble attempt to initiate a panic episode.

Control... that is how things are fixed... control.

Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth.

In through your nose and out through your mouth.

The plane started to move and go faster down the runway. The inside cabin rattled as the plane gained speed. Layla was in a lull and manage to softly smile as the medication took effect.

As everyone else held their breath at lift off, she in turn exhaled feeling lighter as the distance from the ground grew greater.

The last images she had before sleep overtook her were vivid and familiar...

It was the back of a girl with braided brown pigtails who wore a pink lace summer dress. The 7 year old turned her delicate brown cheek to the right and let out a high pitched scream; just as a massive explosion filled the bright clear morning sky.

It wasn't until the flight attendant firmly shook her that Layla finally awoke. Looking around she realized there was no one left in the aircraft but the cleanup crew. She felt groggy but was grateful for the hours of sleep.

Gathering her carry-on bag, she aimlessly walked around Heathrow airport. She had about 2 hours to kill until her next flight.

For some reason Layla felt completely uncomfortable walking around the London airport. The air smelled gross and the people were rude. Are all Brits like this on their own turf? Everyone looked at her like she had the plague. What the hell? Hadn't they seen black people before? That was stupid, of course they had; there were plenty around. She just couldn't understand their behavior.

One woman even had the audacity to point and whisper to her husband while staring right at her. The older woman made eye contact with Layla but pointed to her own head and made circles by her right ear. The universal sign for crazy.

How rude she thought. Layla just rolled her eyes and walked away. She was not going to stoop to her level and respond.

Layla would certainly not return to London if that's how they treated Americans. They can just stuff their tea and crumpets where the sun doesn't shine!

Before boarding time, she found her way to the restrooms. When she was washing her hands, she checked herself out in the mirror.

And there on the right side of her head was a solid clump of a light colored substance. Upon further inspection, Layla was hit with the rancid smell coming from it.

"Aahhh!!!"

"No-no-no-no-no! Aww fucking hell!"

Apparently at some point during the flight the crying baby behind her was kind enough to leave some of his regurgitated dinner... in her hair.

No wonder the funny looks she got from people... How embarrassing!

How in the hell did she not notice this before? She was fastidious about her appearance, never having a hair out of place. And here she was walking around an airport for over almost 2 hours with a chunk of vomit on her head. During which the only thing she felt was a growing paranoia for the British. Maybe those pills were more powerful than she thought.

Now she had to deal with washing it out but didn't have any products on her... since she had to pack all liquids in her checked bag. And to top it off she only had 10 minutes to board her plane.

In the end she made it all work with the restroom hand soap, a bobby pin and a little hand lotion. She put it up in a messy bun. Maybe she could stop somewhere and wash it thoroughly before boarding the ferry in Athens.

The only good thing is that the whole ordeal had distracted her with the fact she had to shortly board yet another plane.

As she was in line to board the flight to Athens, a man standing behind her in line started laughing. It was a hearty laugh and it fit the man's image. He was a burly man with rosy cheeks.

"I'm glad to see you finally cleaned yourself up, love."

"Yea well, no thanks to you." Layla replied. This man had obviously seen the embarrassing situation on her head and chose to remain silent.

"Hey, I was going to tell you, I promise. But you had this stern look about you. Like you didn't want to be bothered." The man shrugged his shoulders. "I thought I'd let you be."

Layla muttered under her breath.

"Didn't mean any disrespect love."

Detecting sincerity in his voice, Layla exhaled. "It's alright. This trip has been kind of a nightmare so far. What's a little baby throw up to seal the deal right? Actually, you're the first person I've talked to since I left the U.S."

"Well, we can't have that now, can we? Henry Moore, at your service." He said extending his hand.

Layla politely nodded and shook his hand. Of course his name was Henry; he looked just like those portraits of an older portly King Henry VIII. All he needed were the crown jewels and a costume with those puffy sleeves and tights.

"I'm Layla, nice to meet you too."

"So are you traveling for business or holiday?"

"Business, I'm an event planner and I'm off to plan a wedding. You?"

"I'm on holiday. I'm headed to the island of Mykonos to relax a bit."

By this time they were already advancing in line, boarded the aircraft and were looking for their seats. They realized they were only 4 rows down from each other. Before the flight was underway, Layla looked back and noticed there was an empty seat next to Henry. She got up and made her way to him.

"Mind if I join you?"

"That would be lovely. Please sit; perhaps we can extort some tea out of the attendant. I hate traveling alone for this very reason, it's so boring. How has the flight been for you so far?"

"Not too bad."

She didn't want to get into the fact that she was barely holding it together with her little problem of flying. She had forfeited taking meds because it was a shorter flight and just didn't trust those sleeping pills. So now she was grateful for any friendly distracting conversation.

"So a wedding planner? I for one don't believe in marriage, you can thank my ex-wives for that."

"Well, I guess it isn't for everybody. You can usually tell how long a couple will last. Usually the more lavish and bigger the wedding, the shorter the marriage. The wedding planning sometimes lasts longer than the marriage."

"Is that so? You sound like it's all a mathematical equation. Bet you've guessed how long this wedding will last..."

Layla snickered, "Maybe I have. I give these people 6 months."

Henry shook his head and tutted disapprovingly. "So young to be so cynical... Why do you do it, love? The wedding planning, I mean."

Layla sighed. "For some reason, I happen to be good at it."

"Oh bullocks, I don't buy it. I'm sure you could do anything but you chose this? I know it can't be easy with those satanic brides and their bloody family members. Out with it, why do you plan weddings?"

Layla sported a neutral face and wasn't budging on an answer. Normally it would've been easy to dismiss such an intrusive man. But for some reason she rather enjoyed his company.

"Are you married or dating anyone?"

"Henry... that is none of your business."

"Ah! You see there it is."

Layla rolled eyes but answered. "Okay okay, maybe deep down... I might be... a little tiny bit of a hopeless romantic."

Henry leaned over and whispered, "Don't worry I won't tell anyone your secret."

Then he let out a booming laugh. He laughed so loud you would've thought he was watching a comedy show. Regardless of the annoyed looks from people, he didn't have a care in the world.

Although Layla thought there must be something seriously wrong with him, she couldn't help but be a little envious at how carefree Henry seemed.

Soon they heard the captain's announcement to prepare for their arrival. Layla was relieved. They exchanged email addresses and wished each other well.

Layla was anxious to arrive and get herself cleaned up and refreshed before she boarded the ferry.

In the baggage claim area, she was starting to get nervous when everyone else's suitcases had come and gone but hers remained unseen. She anxiously waited and waited... when at last the luggage carousel stopped moving.

This can't be happening. This just can't be happening.

But there her lonely luggage was tucked away as if hiding in the corner. Someone had grabbed it thinking it belonged to them and never put it back on the conveyor belt. Layla breathed a sigh of relief.

She gathered her belongings to leave and found the ferry ticket counter. The ferry ride would take about 5 hours but at least it wasn't flying.

Layla looked out from the ferry to the beautiful island of Santorini.

What a gorgeous place... She inhaled the pure air. Although this had been a travel nightmare, she really was grateful to get out of New York City for a while. She left her cat with her mom; hopefully Kitty will be alive when she gets back. God knows, the chances are 50/50.

Reaching the pier, she expected a chauffeur to emerge with her name on a sign, but she saw a sleek black Mercedes sedan approach.

She caught her breath as Jason Bane in all his glory got out of the car.

Layla had only seen his picture in Forbes' World's Most Eligible Billionaire Bachelor list from last year. As the sun hit his perfect skin, he stood at his full impressive height of 6'4". His piercing gray eyes could quite possibly stop time. That chiseled face was almost pretty but reeked of masculinity. His dark hair had errant waves that curled by his ears. His powerful and confident stride advertised his status.

It should be a sin to look like that.

Oh God Layla, get a grip. You can't drool over the client... Focus.

Jason walked around and opened the passenger side, extended his hand and withdrew a small mocha colored one. That's odd, Layla thought. When he pulled out the presumably bride-to-be, she wasn't at all what Layla expected.

Layla thought Jason Bane's fiancée would be a stick thin bubbly blonde with a huge rack. But instead this woman was curvy and chocolate. She wore a simple teal maxi dress and long hair adorned her face in soft curls.

If it wasn't for the shiny rock on her left hand she'd have a hard time believing it. Layla thought Sienna was pretty... but for Jason Bane, she seemed a little plain.

But Jason held the woman close as if she were the most precious thing in the world. She smiled in his direction and Jason seemed like he couldn't help but lean over and give her a soft kiss.

Layla sighed and silently swooned to herself. Well at least these two are really in love. Why are all the good ones always taken? She thought.

"Layla Coldwell?" Jason asked.




Duplicity Ch. 02



It's been three weeks since the evening Lord John Mallory, Marquess of Davenport, first encountered Lady Evelyn. Since that moment he hadn't had a moment's reprieve from the thought of her. More to the point, the thought of having her. 

His predicament wasn't helped by the constant, incessant gossip that pervades Lady Evelyn's every move. Not a single day passed without her name being uttered. Lady Evelyn was seen riding and taking tea with so and so. She wore a fashionable new gown to yet another ball. Yes, she still resides with the Warwick's. No, no one knew anything more about her life before her arrival. 

Lord Davenport always listened in silence whenever she was mentioned. He gave no outward indication that she was of any particular interest to him. It simply wouldn't do for anyone to suspect he too had joined the ranks of Lady Evelyn's growing admirers. The idea that anyone would group him with the rest of the lovelorn young bucks was simply detestable to him, but he drank in every bit of the tittle tattle.

There was, of course, Philip's feelings to consider, he supposed. 

With some difficulty, Lord Davenport kept his distance. Yet, she managed to materialize at the odd moments when he was on his way to his club or Westminster or any number of other places as part of his normal routine. She was always accompanied by a gaggle of the Warwick household, always a picture of perfect beauty and impeccable refinement next to the over-trimmed Lady Warwick and her equally horrible sisters. On a few occasions their eyes did meet but she never acknowledged him, nor he her. Still he carried the image of her with him for the rest of the day.

Life was too predictable and stagnant, he thought ruefully. That's why he was so intrigued by her. She presented a puzzle to him when there were few true challenges left in life. Soon, God willing, she will marry and move to the country and produce a litter of brats for some unhappy sod, and he would have forgotten her. 

It's been two weeks since Lord Davenport received the latest long missive from his father one morning just as he sat down to his breakfast. As with all his father's letters this one was terse and to the point: In short, the Marquess of Davenport MUST take a wife soon and start producing heirs. There was a veiled threat that if he did not see to this duty, his father the Duke of Northumberland, will chose his bride. For one brief horrifying moment, Lord Davenport had half expected the Duke to add: I've chosen Lady Evelyn! God was merciful, however and no specific young lady was mentioned. 

Lord Davenport didn't finish reading the letter before balling it in his fist which he pressed against his throbbing feverish forehead. He really should have declined that last two fingers of whiskey the night before. 

The prospect of marriage was neither appealing nor unappealing to Lord Davenport. It simply must be done... one day... in the future. For the sake of begetting heirs. He would rather not have his father bring it up to him however. He'd rather not hear from his father at all with concerns for his future. 

"Sod it!" He tossed the crumpled letter into the fire.

Lord Davenport decided to go out a bit and allow the brisk, blustery air to clear away his headache. Rather than taking his horse, he ordered his carriage to drive aimlessly about the city. The sounds and smells of London calmed him somewhat at first, but soon his headache returned. He called for his driver to turn to a darker, seedier part of the city, where the air was more foul, the cobbled streets more narrow and the crush of griping bodies more worn and weary. 

From his carriage window, he pursued the grubby faces that peered back at him. The last holdouts from a night of debauchery, no doubt. There were a few hapless feminine faces that didn't look too diseased and passably attractive. Finally he saw one that would do. She was rather plain, with a smattering of freckles on a plump face and coppery hair. He gestured for her to step into his carriage. 

The girl did not speak, didn't make a sound as she took her position on her knees between his spread thighs. Lord Davenport's dark brows furrowed slightly and he closed his eyes as she freed his member from his clothe. Swiftly, without preamble, she took his entire shaft down her throat. With a sigh of contentment he settle back as the carriage slowly started to move again, swaying him lightly as the silky, wet mouth of the woman at his feet massaged his cock. 

It was marvelous! Just what he needed! In that moment, all the buzzing and rattling inside his head subsided and he was able to find peace with the intoxicating sensation of her lips sealed tightly around him as she forced herself down closer and closer to his pelvis. The friction was moistening her mouth, until his cock pushed a few bubbles of drool from the corners of her mouth. The girl was quite talented. It didn't take too long before he exploded in a white hot searing burst of ecstasy into the girl's mouth. Then there was just a quiet peace... however brief. By the time the nameless girl, clutching in her calloused hand the few coins he had dropped there, scurried out of his carriage, the deep throbbing in his head returned. 

The carriage left the muddy streets behind and came into the brighter, cleaner, broader lanes. Lord Davenport quickly jumped out of his carriage and sent it home. A cool, brisk walk would clear his foul mood and sooth his throbbing head.

Moments later he came upon the grand stone and wrought iron gates of a magnificent town home. He was nearly at the gate when through the scrolled fencing he recognized a distinct little female figure, in a fashionable riding dress and veiled hat, descended from a hired carriage, in the front of the house. She glided gracefully but hurriedly up the front steps. 

He didn't have to see her complete profile to know that it was indeed her. For a moment he forgot to breath as the thundering in his temple intensified. It wasn't until she disappeared into the house that he let out a ragged breath. 

There wasn't a glimmer of doubt, from either her profile or carriage that it was Lady Evelyn!

Something in her movements raised the alarm bells in Lord Davenport's head. Who was it that she was visiting. He stepped away from the gate to squinted up at the magnificent home and recognized it immediately as a residence he had dined at not so long ago. His host and current occupant of the residence was the king's youngest son, Prince Edward! His highness had been away at university for some time. It appeared that he returned just in time perhaps to be ensnared into Lady Evelyn's growing web. 

"My, Lady Evelyn, how quickly you move up the ladder," Lord Davenport sneered up at the great palatial residence. There was only one reason why a young woman, unmarried, unchaperoned, would so hurriedly enter a man's apartments. So the aristocracy was no longer satisfactory to Lady Evelyn, she has now set her sights on royalty! 

When Lord Davenport returned home later that day he felt surprisingly better and much lighter than he had in weeks.

***************************

Exactly a week past when he received an invitation from Lady Warwick inviting him and Philip to tea. No doubt, Lady Warwick's gauche sisters, all in need of husbands, will be in attendance. There would have been really no way to refuse her without insulting the old Earl, but Lord Davenport would still have declined if Philip hadn't agreed to go. It's been three weeks since he had seen hide nor hair of Philip. Quite a feat since they dwell under the same roof.

And that's how they all came to be in the Warwick's solarium on an unseasonably hot, sunny summer day. 

Lady Warwick, dressed in a lace trimmed silk new gown and bedecked with jewels made a show of welcoming her guests and introducing them to her sisters Ruth and Mary. Both young ladies bobbed courtesies as they giggled incessantly. They continued to giggle as the guests were lead out into the solarium where tea things were laid out.

Lord Davenport felt her before he saw her. It was in the prickle on the back of his neck, that grew into a tingling warmth. A surge of desire nearly overwhelmed him when she offered him her slender, tapered hand in greeting. He allowed himself to linger over that delicate little hand and caress her fingers ever so slightly.

Evelyn suppressed a gasp at his touch and quickly pulled away to take the farthest seat from him. 

Tea was poured. The weather was commented on, as were the beauty of the flowers. Over the constant chattering of Lady Warwick's sing-song voice, Lord Davenport's glaze returned again and again to Evelyn. Whether she was sipping her tea or simply looking off into a distance, each slight gesture was utterly alluring to him. He had to remind himself that she was just a common thing, regardless of her otherworldly beauty. She's not worthy of his admiration. Not when the specter of the foppish young Prince Edward hovered over her. 

"I will have her and be done with her," he thought to himself. 

Philip politely made small talk with the other women, and stole glances between his cousin and Lady Evelyn. Whatever he saw there dimmed the light in his brown eyes, and he nodded in silence acceptance and returned his attention to keep up a light banter with his hostesses.

Lady Warwick and her sisters, hardly seemed to notice the drama playing out beneath the surface. While Lady Warwick busied herself calling for more hot water and cakes to be brought in. Her sisters Mary and Regina, sat, held hands with their heads turned towards each other and answered every one of Philip's polite questions with a peal of bashful giggles. 

Luckily the elderly, frail, Lord Warwick deign to join them after awhile. He was wheeled in his chair by a strong, strapping footman. The old man seemed to be be half asleep at first, but when he opened his eyes he immediately honed in sharply on Lord Davenport. 

"It's good to see you again dear boy!" the Earl said in his loud, warbling voice. "Not myself these days as you can see. I dare say that I've fought my last battle. Though in my day I was commended twice by his Majesty for my bravery. You're war was nothing compared to what I went through I assure you."

"That was so long ago!" his wife said with an embarrassed half-laugh.

"Lord Davenport remembers!" the old Earl retorted back. "I was not always this sack of bones."

Lord Davenport gave the old man a respectful nod as he set aside his tea to steeple his fingers beneath his chin. "I do remember a few of the tales told of your campaigns," he said. "Perhaps you'll recount a few for us now." 

Lady Warwick looked horrified. "Goodness, surely we'd rather hear of your heroism my Lord Davenport," she quickly interjected, with a concerned pout. She leaned forward to pat Lord Davenport's arm, battered her eyelids and offer him a clear view of her decolletage. "I understand you were injured many times, that you even had to put down a rebellion within your own ranks! How horrifying! How glorious!" 

"Neither was it glorious nor too terrifying," Lord Davenport replied with a thin smile. "It was, as all wars, best left up to the poets to immortalized and romanticize. While those of us who fought would rather never think of it again."

Everyone sounded their agreement as they partake in the tea. 

"But to be wounded," Lady Warwick said after awhile. "Especially if one was terribly wounded, how would one forget?"

Lord Warwick gave a loud snort. "That was his own mistake! Had you asked me I would have told you never allow a foreign force to fight within your own ranks. Always keep them separate for today's allies can quickly turn to tomorrow's foe. They'd all stick a knife to you eventually."

Philip cleared his throat nervously into his fist and quickly sought to change the subject by asking of the variety of flowers blooming in the solarium.

But no one could think of anything else but to hear Lord Davenport's rely. 

Lord Davenport had been sitting with his chin propped in his palm. His eyes flicked up briefly to glower up at the old, frail Earl. "The decision wasn't mine. Such matters rarely are. But what was one battalion, the lives of a few hundred men--"

"Better to sleep in a hornets nest. Ha!" the elderly Earl interrupted. "I would have sent the whole sorry lot packing before they ever reached the food supply! Dirty animals! "

Not a muscle flinched on Lord Davenport's face as he leveled his silvery-blue dangerously at the gaunt, bent figure of the old Earl. The old man didn't appear to notice. "It hardly matters now," he grounded out 

Lord Warwick nodded vigorously at Lord Davenport's impassive silence. "Of course one does not like to speak of the past. Good man. No need to bring that up again. But tell me my lord, is trouble brewing here at home? Every time the window opens I hear shouts for reform. Reform! Reform! Reform! What for, I ask you? His Majesty is a fair and goodly king. We've had worse prime ministers. What are they carrying on about?. "

Lord Davenport's took a deep, steady breath as he prayed for patience. "My lord it's a matter of the parliamentary seats. How it's been distributed within the lower house seems... unbalanced to some."

"It's been the way it has always bee. There there be peace in the realm for once!"

"Peace is tenuous when there's feelings of injustice, my lord," Philip interjected. "There are simply too many discrepancies in the electorate to be ignored."

"So you think the hallowed grounds of Westminster ought to be overrun by tradesmen and ruffians? Give the commoners the same deference as men of noble blood?" the Earl shouted with a loud gurgling sound in the back of his throat.

"Reform will not come so easily," Lord Davenport said, though his tone wasn't one of reassurance. "Many lords feel as you do and will not support reform."

Philip spoke again. "It's a call for revolution. Merely a reexamination of how the lines of each borough is drawn when some are clearly defunct or were reclaimed by nature."

"This miserable lot will weaken the realm!" the Earl grumbled as he pressed a handkerchief to his lips. "It'll be civil war again!"

"My lord," a female voice piped up just then. All eyes turned towards Evelyn then. "I'm certain there's no need to treat the reformers as hostiles. There is a need for change as surely as the ages itself changes. I've heard it said that we are ever exploring new lands and discovering new things. Men of little or no means before are able to better their lot through trade in these foreign parts. As they better their lot the more they have a mind to governance. It can only be to strengthen this kingdom, not to tear it apart--"

"Only time will tell if you are right, Lady Evelyn" Lord Davenport said evenly to her when no one else spoke. "Perhaps Lord Warwick hears reform and thinks another Cromwell might emerge. For that was a bloody mess of a time. There is nothing that says such a thing cannot happen again. What other matters of state concerns you my lady? I believe you have a vested interest."

Evelyn didn't understand his meaning but rather than provoke him, she simply fell silent. For a brief moment her eyes met his icy grayish blue ones set deeply in his handsome chiseled face and a small shudder ran down her spine. 

Lady Warwick snorted with impatience. "Really Evelyn, such matters are of no concern to young ladies! Of course the kingdom is strong, God bless our gracious king."

The topic of conversation turned to the latest music, more to the pleasure of the other ladies while the elderly Earl appeared to have nodded off again. 

It allowed Evelyn an unhindered moment to step back and study the chiseled profile of Lord Davenport. She was certain that she hated him, but she could not stop thinking about their first meeting. Soon after that fateful night, she quickly learned his identity from Lady Warwick, and quite a few others. Everyone was quick to point him out whenever he happened by. Much was made of his noble character, which Evelyn would silently refute, and his illustrious title and vast wealth, that meant nothing to Evelyn. She quickly surmised that he was beloved by the bon ton, both respected and admired for his power and good-looks. Should she accuse him of being indecent, she would undoubtedly be blamed. and would never be thought any less if she publicly accused him of indecency. Therefore it would be best to stay silent about her meeting with him and simply avoid him. 

What was there for her to say? That he made some lurid accusations against her at their first meeting. Perhaps he stepped just beyond the lines of propriety? Many a nights she tossed and turned in her bed as that memory played over and over in her mind what she knew of the man. She felt his firm grip on her for weeks after, as surely as if he had seared his touch into her skin. Luckily they had no occasion to meet again and she was certain she'll soon forget him. 

Then, Lord Davenport, her tormentor, arrived to tea!

Now here he was, the Warwicks' honored guest, just a foot away from her, and slowly overwhelmed her with his maleness even when he wasn't scowling in her direction. As though he had anything to scowl over! She was the offended party! Perhaps she should simply remove herself from his presence and reclaim some of her peace of mind. Yet, the rules of decorum demanded that she suffered through her discomfort and receive him as a guest in the Earl's home. 

"My lord this weather is unseasonably warm, is it not?" she asked him, in an attempt towards civility. A few words on the weather she would have fulfilled her duty. She'll claim fatigue from the heat. 

"Quite," he replied in his deep seductive voice. As determined as Evelyn was to dislike him, she could not deny his physical beauty. 

"The devil is beautiful too," she reminded herself. 

Those penetrating eyes of his seemed to stare straight into her soul and what he saw there made him smirk. Could he actually see her thoughts? "I find it a gentle reminder that the Season will soon end and we'll all retreat to the country once more away from this stifling London weather. Will you join the Warwicks when they leave London or to you retreat to your own estate?.... Where is that exactly?"

Evelyn ignored his probing question with a strained smile. "We do have some time before the end of the Season. I am looking forward to Ascot, as I've heard so much about the races." 

"Do they not race horses where you are from?" he asked pointedly.

Lady Warwick was laughing at something Philip had said and called Lord Davenport's attention away for a brief moment. Evelyn breathed a sigh of relief and took that moment to leave her seat and have her tea away from the others. It was truly a glorious warm day with a rare moment of sunshine and not a speck of cloud in the sky. Yet, the warmth only added to Evelyn's discomfort and she wished with her whole heart that their visitors would depart and she could hide away in her chamber. 

At that moment Philip took notice of her standing off to one corner of the room alone and went to her. 

"I too think, progress and reform isn't to be feared," he said gently to her. "I believe that was the point you were trying to make?" 

Evelyn smiled gratefully up at this kind, mild-manner man. "I do believe I spoke out of turn," she replied bashfully. "I'm often times carried away with my own thoughts and opinions."

"But you must not be sorry for it," Philip gently protested. "You should always speak your mind in the company of friends."

"Ah, but Lady Evelyn doesn't care for our friendship," Lord Davenport interjected as he joined them, casting his shadow over both Evelyn and Philip. "She keeps loftier company. Isn't that so, LADY Evelyn?" 




Duplicity Ch. 02



"I don't know what you mean my lord," Evelyn breathed miserably. Why is this great and powerful man singling her out for abuse?

Philip frowned slightly and stiffly melted back into the company of the others.

Lord Davenport had eyes only for Evelyn as he towered over her. "Are you not a particular friend of young Prince Edward?" he asked when Philip was out of earshot.

Evelyn schooled her face to reveal no emotion at all. Luckily Lady Warwick, annoyed that both her guests appeared enraptured with Evelyn, chose that moment to invite her guests to take a turn in her garden with its maze of exotic flowering bushes. The suggestion was greeted with eagerness from everyone. Philip took charge of wheeling the elderly Earl as the other ladies followed behind. 

Lord Davenport held out a hand to Evelyn and she had no choice but to take it. She reluctantly allowed him take her hand and fold it into the crook of his arm and together they followed the others outdoors. He kept their pace well behind that of the others until very soon they were out of sight. 

"Just what sort of friendship can a young woman have with a man that she would enter his apartments alone?" he pressed once they were out of earshot of the others. 

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean. Even so, who my friends are should be of no concern to you!" Evelyn retorted, with more force and confidence than she felt. 

He e stopped dead in his track and pulled her around to face him. "As long as you are moving amongst this set, your every action, your every breath is under scrutiny," he grounded out forcefully. "By me. By everyone!" 

Evelyn flinched but she refused to be cowed. "Do I pose such a threat to you and yours?" she retorted, with more strength in her voice than she felt. "We only just met. What could I possibly have done to warrant such insults?" 

"You may believe I am insulting," he informed her with an arrogant lift of his firm chin. "In time you will learn that it is for your own good that I warn you. You grow careless with your hubris when you visited your royal paramour in broad daylight. Oh yes , I saw you! Others might have seen you too and draw the same conclusions I have! Who will protect you when all decent society turns you out? Will your Prince? How deeply does his affection run when he has already abandoned you here with the Warwicks?"

A deep blush of anger and outrage spread to the very roots of Evelyn's hair. She struggled to breathe, from the weight of his accusation! Instead she stood with her mouth hanging open, at a loss for words.

"Answer me!" he demanded after a while.

"This day is too hot for a stroll," she said instead, with trembling lips, her eyes burning with unshed tears. She won't cry in front of him, no matter how much he frightened her. "You must pardon me as I must return."

"Have you nothing to say for yourself? Won't you attempt to make some form of denial?" Lord Davenport asked, growing somewhat irritated by her stubborness. Why wasn't she grateful that he was willing to keep her secrets? She ought to be very, very grateful that he has kept his peace so far.

Instead of being grateful, she willfully defied him. "You know nothing and I won't listen to your insults anymore!" She turned to go, but he quickly reached out a long arm and pulled her back to him. With no thought to where they were or who might see, he took hold of both her wrists which she held out to defend herself and captured them easily. 

"Stop!" she squealed, in shock and outrage, as she twisted and pulled against his first grasp. 

He was simply too strong, too determined in his purpose! With hardly any effort at all, he pulled her against his large muscular frame. For moment, Lord Davenport wondered at the wisdom of his actions. But she had tormented his thoughts for far too many weeks. He must satiate himself and be done with her soon, to quiet this madness he felt for her. 

So he kissed her. His lips slanted and crushed against hers. It was a kiss unlike any of the chaise, gentle peaks Evelyn had experienced before. Kisses were suppose to be sweet. This felt like a violation. Hard and bruising! He bite her lower lip and urged her mouth to part for his probing tongue, all the while he held her firmly by both wrists against the length of him. 

How cruel his lips were! How simply intoxicating his soft tongue felt as it filled her mouth and sucked her breath away. He was sucking her very soul from her body! Evelyn slowly stopped struggling against him. Her breath simply left her body under his bruising kiss and her whole world turned to darkness!

"Evelyn!" 

Lord Davenport looked up at the horrid face of Lady Warwick and her equally aghast sisters at the sight of Evelyn's seemingly lifeless body in his arms. 

"Quickly!" he shouted, without missing a beat. "Lady Evelyn has fainted from the heat!" 

"Send for the doctor!" cried the elderly Earl from his chair behind the others. 

There was a flutter of activity as everyone returned to the house, fluttering around Lord Davenport as he carried Evelyn. Philip following silently, grim faced, at their heels. 

The ladies lead the way to the family drawing room, shouting for a doctor, for water, for brandy as they went. When the servants weren't quick to respond, the women scattered about to chase them down. 

Evelyn's limp body was spread upon a chaise. She looked so pale, so at peace with thick dark fans of her lashes gently resting on her dewy cheeks that it appeared quite lifeless. Lord Davenport hovered over her for a brief moment and brushed a lock of hair back from her face. He wanted to taste those pillow pink lips again. 

"Evelyn," he said to her prone figure. No response. 

He collected himself and straightened up only to be met with Philip's accusing glare. 

"Philip., I--" Lord Davenport began. He had completely forgotten his cousin's presence! For once his lordship was at a loss for words.

***************************

"I cannot bear to be here another day!" Lady Evelyn nearly shouted as she wrung her hands and marched up and down the length of a large opulent drawing room. "Edward, you must do something. I will not stay with the Warwicks for another day!"

Prince Edward dropped a corner of the morning papers he was reading to peer up at her. 

"Now my dear girl, that will not do? You know Father's will and we must all obey. Of course you can always marry the first poor sod who purpose and be done with the whole affair," he said with bemusement. He shook out the crease in the paper and shield it over his face once more.

Lady Evelyn halted in mid stride. "How droll, Edward! Trade an intolerable situation for a literal prison. I don't know why I didn't think of it myself," she retorted with dry sarcasm. 

"As a married woman you may come and go as you like," can the reply from behind the papers. "Father is most anxious to see you settled you know."

Evelyn bit her lip, somewhat reluctant to say what she meant to say. "I was thinking I can go aboard or settle into my own household in the country. I promise to keep out of the way and be of no bother to anyone."

"You're not a bother Evelyn. Father just wants you to be happy."

"His majesty-!" Lady Evelyn nearly shouted, but then calmed herself and tried again. "YOUR father, my dear Edward, needn't concern himself. I have my own money. I am extremely clever, when it comes to caring for myself. I would prefer to live out a life in quiet solitude to being paraded around and be subjected to their gossip and innuendo another day!"

The top half of the paper flapped downwards again. "Who had gossiped?" Edward said darkly. "What are they saying? I haven't heard any of this. I've only had glowing reports of your great success!"

"But the rumors have already started," Evelyn stated flatly as she stood over him. "I think that awful woman has been telling tales that I am not actually a relation."

"Then the Lady Warwick will be sorry for it!" Prince Edward declared darkly. Then he paused for a moment. "Are you sure? Has someone confronted you?"

Evelyn bit her lower lips. Either out of embarrassment or some inherent feeling of unease, she did not want to tell Edward about Lord Davenport. "It's an impression I've gotten," she said instead. 

Edward's frown disappeared and he gave Evelyn a stern look instead. "You always were prone to see the worse in the situation and be very difficult. You oughtn't be so cold towards those who merely want your friendship. Can't you be charming and sweet towards Lady Warwick? You'll see that she is not hatching some sinister plot against you."

Evelyn's mouth opened to protest, but there was nothing she could say without bringing up Lord Davenport. Something made her hold her tongue once more. 

"You're right," she conceded. "I only suspect her. But I'd rather leave before more questions are asked that I haven't a ready answer for! I know both you and his Majesty mean well. You are wrong though. I am not a success. No one accepts me. They merely regard me as a curiosity. Once the novelty wears off, or if the Earl dies, II will be shunned by one and all. Face it my dear Edward, a life of solitude in the country is much preferable to what lies in store for me if I stay!" 

Prince Edward was forced to set his papers aside. He stood up, and came to placed two gentle hands on Lady Evelyn's shoulder to gently brush a kiss upon her forehead. Dark blue eyes met dark blue eyes with tender fondness. "My dearest sister," Edward said gently. "You know his majesty would love nothing more than to publicly embrace you as his, but not while my mother lives. He loves you deeply and will see you well settled. Won't you at least try, for all our sake? At least for a while longer. No one loves you more or want your happiness more than we do. If it is as hopeless as you say, then we shall explore other plans."

When Evelyn didn't respond, Edward tried another tactic. "Come! Tonight we'll take in an opera. They say Dido and Aeneas is simply divine. What say you?" 

With resignation she accepted the tender kiss he now pressed on the back of her hands. "I have missed you, my dear Edward! But won't there be talk if we're seen out together?"

"To be out with my own sister?!" Edward admonished as he folded his arms affectionately around her slender, deflated shoulders. She didn't point out that no one knew of their relation, and no one can know. That was the cause of her dilemma now. Yet Edward seemed to have forgotten that point and Evelyn decided not to bring up again. 

Edward was in a fine mood as he held her arms out to take in all of her. "Look at you my dear girl. Has it been so long since we were both at Pembroke? Look how beautiful you've grown, my sweet Evelyn. Surely, given a chance everyone would love you and you'll soon make a wonderful match." 

Evelyn smiled at the mention of their childhood home. Oh Pembroke! There, two lonely children ran circles around their tutors and governess. Those were truly wonderful days of running and riding in the open meadows. It seemed a lifetime ago from this gilded, yet murky, and forbidding city. Real danger lurked here in the form of tall, dark, devilishly handsome man who haunted and stalked her. If she remained here, she didn't trust herself not to acquiesce to her own downfall!

To be continued...

End of Chapter 2



Duplicity Ch. 02



"Yes! That's me. Thank you for this opportunity Mr. Bane. I'll make sure your wedding day is one you'll always remember." Layla said in a professional tone.

"Please call me Jason. And this is my beautiful fiancée Sienna."

Sienna smiled brilliantly and her hazel eyes sparkled. She approached Layla and gave her a tight hug. Layla who was caught off guard just stood there not knowing what to say.

"Sorry, I'm a hugger." She giggled.

Kill me now... Well at least she's a nice chocolate bimbo. But then again, most brides start off nice before becoming bridezillas.

Sienna looped Layla's arm with hers and walked her to the car, leaving Jason with Layla's luggage.

The drive was about 45 minutes and Sienna didn't stop talking the whole ride home. Jason was completely silent but had a genuine smile on his face. Sienna would ask Layla questions and then answered them herself. She just seemed to be talking just for the sake of talking. Jason chuckled at the scene but remained silent.

Layla discreetly rolled her eyes from the backseat... so she was going to be one of those brides. But nonetheless Layla took precise notes, just in case she needed to refer to any of Sienna's ramblings later on.

However annoyed as she felt, Layla was most intrigued when she saw Jason lightly take Sienna hand and kiss the back of it. He smiled and winked at his lady. This somehow miraculously stopped the nonstop chatter Sienna had going on. Sienna looked at him intently as if Jason had just spoken.

She nervously chuckled. "I haven't stopped talking, have I?"

"She gets like this when she's nervous." Jason chimed in, as if explaining a medical condition.

"But as I told her before, you have nothing to be nervous about, princess." He said reassuringly.

To any onlooker it would seem Sienna would be nervous about the wedding and marriage. Well she was nervous about the wedding... the event that is, but not about marrying Jason. Ever since Sean came back, Sienna had been jittery and on edge. It was probably her pregnancy hormones making her a little out of sorts. She worried about Sean and the danger he could be in.

As they drove up a steep bend in the road, you could tell they were getting close to the home. The neighboring houses were farther apart and there were large expanses of shady green trees. When they arrived, there was a private gate at the entrance with heavily guarded armed personnel. High tech cameras discretely attached to the walls followed every movement. Layla thought it was a little over the top but maybe it was a deterrent for the paparazzi.

As they drove up towards the building, the full estate could be seen. Layla stared in awe at the gorgeous mansion. It was breathtaking.

The immaculate exterior reminded her of a country side white villa. It has impressive high white-washed walls and lush landscaping. And the view... was out of a postcard.

The mansion sat high on a cliff with a perfect view of the turquoise sea and the island's volcano.

As they walked on the open courtyard, Layla had this sudden calm overtake her... and it made her uncomfortable.

The infinity pool would entice even the most boring of people. There were floor to ceiling glass windows. The design included brilliant blues, greens and purple décor against white walls. There were exotic birds and elaborate gardens.

Layla looked up and noticed every room had its own private balcony and Jacuzzi.

"I know... that was my reaction when I first arrived as well." Sienna said.

"Oh... it's just that I've never seen anything like it."

"Jason designed all the renovations. He has a great eye and is very talented."

No doubt he does, Layla thought.

A man dressed in Turkish clothing promptly brought a tray of champagne and mini buckets of popcorn.

"Ah, thank you Asker."

Layla looked at the pairing and wrinkled her brows. "Popcorn?" she asked.

"I know, I know but try it." Sienna urged.

Layla thought this woman had gone insane but oh well she's the client. Layla delicately munched on some popcorn and washed it down with champagne.

Layla couldn't believe it. Although she almost moaned in delight inside, her expression remained neutral.

"That is very good. I would have never thought those went so well together." Layla confessed.

Sienna smiled and said, "It's just like Jason and I. At first glance, people might think... no that will never work. One is so elite and the other so regular. Separate, both are good but together... it's inexplicably fantastic.

And now you know what the theme of our wedding will be. Two things that don't usually go together, but when combined create something spectacular. We want something beautiful but simple, elegant but personal."

Layla thoughtfully looked at Sienna and nodded. And just like that, Sienna earned Layla's respect. There was something in Sienna voice that was so genuine and confident without a hint of arrogance. Now observing Sienna, Layla couldn't find anything plain about her at all.

Sienna seemed to be so unusual.

Well it might just be that it was unusual for Layla to take a liking to anyone.

Layla immediately thought of some other possible ideas and jotted them down. Sienna showed her to her room so she could freshen up before dinner. Sienna walked back to her own room to do the same.

Sienna was happy to have another woman in the house. She loved being with Jason in their own little paradise but she missed having a girl to hang out with and talk too.

As Sienna observed Layla, she was reminded of herself once upon a time.

Layla had smooth brown skin with a cinnamon tint to it and big brown doe eyes fringed with long lashes. She wore her hair in a messy bun with severe straight cut bangs. She looked like a strict principal. She even wore nude stockings under her pencil skirt and a long sleeved dress shirt.

Sienna wondered if she realized how hot it was outside. They would definitely have to go shopping. And what was the deal with Layla not smiling? I mean, come on, just a little grin. She seemed so uptight. When Nicole arrived maybe they could have a little bachelorette party with some... male entertainment. Because obviously what Layla needed was a good fuc-

"Oh no, I can see you plotting away with that girl." Jason said, interrupting Sienna's thoughts.

Sienna chuckled. "What? I'm just thinking of ways to help the poor girl out."

Jason nuzzled her neck and said, "Mm-Hmm. Whatever you say. So you're not playing make-over/ matchmaker in your mind already?" He picked her up and squeezed and rubbed her ample ass cheeks.

Sienna moaned appreciatively but managed to say, "Well, if you must know, a wedding is a perfect place to fall in love... or at least get loved-up. What about your friend Carlos? He's coming right? I think they wou-..."

As Sienna kept talking, Jason had her sit on the edge of the bed. Jason was distracted by her body. He tapped his index finger to his mouth trying to decide where to start his ravaging. But to Sienna it looked like he was intently listening to her.

"Well, maybe Billy is better for her because Carlos is too wild. But then agai-..."

Ever since the pregnancy, Jason couldn't spend too long without being inside of her. He was so turned on at the thought of her stomach swollen with his child. He wondered if that was normal, it was turning into a fetish.

"But Billy has a good job, but he could be a little bit of a jerk someti-..."

He silenced her with a lingering kiss. He let his tongue dive into her sweet mouth. She was caught off guard but responded to his advances. He slowly removed their clothes and threw them to the floor. He placed her in the center of the bed and spread her legs as far out as they would go.

"Baby, are you going to let me enjoy my snack before dinner?"

The chilly breeze helped by caressing already had Sienna's pussy glistening. She suddenly forgot what she was talking about. He kissed her inner ankles and worked his way down to her delicious thighs. Sienna shifted uncomfortably as her body craved his mouth.

Jason gently kissed her outer lips and snaked his wicked tongue inside her pussy. He took his time sucking and nibbling her. He thrust his two fingers inside her as her body softly vibrated.

"Mm-mm, my baby tastes so sweet."

He went back to his meal. He continued to suck earnestly and pumped his fingers inside her but held her on the edge, denying her release. She tasted so good to him. Like a fine wine, she tasted better with time. And he was like a thirsty man in the desert.

Finally with subtle control, he licked and nibbled underneath her clit. That was her sweetest spot. She came while breathlessly pulling his hair. He continued to suck and nibble until her tremors subsided.

Jason then stroked his dick twice and positioned it at her entrance. He plunged his steel rod into her silky wet folds. He groaned and he felt her tight pussy squeeze him. He sucked and rubbed her breasts as he continued to piston in and out of her. He loved the feeling of her.

This was heaven to him.

She moaned as her hips met his thrusts with equal strength. She screamed his name as she went to heaven again. She smiled as she felt his warm thick cum fill her insides.

_____________

On another floor, Layla sat shocked thinking of the erotic noises she accidentally heard. She wanted to ask them a question and walked by their floor to see if she'd see them. But the lovers were ravenous for each other it seemed.

It made her miss having a man and she could feel her panties moisten. It had been over a year for her. The last time was a farewell fuck and it wasn't a very good one at that...

Since she was wound up from the long trip, she quietly pulled out her trusty vibrator and took her clothes off.

She stared at herself in the mirror. The matching light blue lacy set perfectly complimented her skin. She didn't exactly know why but from the age of 16, she always wore sexy lingerie. She knew her clothes were conservative but she always wore something sizzling underneath. It was like a nice surprise to a present wrapped in plain newspaper... even if she was the only one doing the unwrapping.

As a child her mother always drilled in her, "Make sure you always have clean underwear on, you never know if you'll be in an accident."

Now that was motherly advice Layla never understood. Hypothetically, if you were in an accident, wouldn't the assumption be that you were covered in rubble and dirt? Or what, is a stranger that stops to help among the chaos going to say, "What a shame... doesn't even have clean underwear on!"

Nevertheless, Layla wore her nice lingerie for herself. It gave her that extra confidence she needed in dealing with demanding people.

She removed her nude thigh high stockings, garter belts and stripped naked while staring at her reflection.

Her breasts were more than a handful and standing at 5'10" her legs were long and shapely. She hated the slight curve on her stomach, no doubt from all those cheesecakes she'd been eating lately. She would have to start a strict exercise and eating regimen. She sucked her tiny tummy in and placed her hands on her waist. She kept herself perfectly trimmed and had a small strip of black hair covering her nether regions.

She mechanically ran her hands over her breasts and softly moaned as she felt her nipples harden. She closed her eyes and imagined Pierre's strong hands touching her everywhere whispering naughty French phrases. She lay on the bed. With her right hand she ran the vibrator all around her pussy while her left hand massaged and fondled her breast. As if on demand, she conjured up her favorite fantasy. She squirmed in delight. She was already very wet and quickly worked herself over the edge. She exploded when she let the vibrations reach her clit. Her brow beaded with sweat as she panted and completely relaxed.

The vibrator was as quick and efficient as she expected... like everything else in her life.

Then she took a nice hot shower and gratefully felt like a new woman. It was a good thing because she had loads of work to do.

During dinner she got to know Jason and Sienna more. It was part of the job to thoroughly get to know the client. She needed to be able to anticipate their likes and dislikes. She was unprepared to find how likeable they were. If it wasn't for Jason's ridiculous wealth and Sienna's beauty they would seem like normal people.

"So have you lived in New York long?" Sienna asked.

"I've lived in New York for about 4 years now. Before that I lived in Pensacola, Florida." Layla quickly added, "But New York is my home now."

"Well, while I love Greece, I have to admit I miss the City. Hopefully we'll be able to visit soon." Sienna tilted her head while glancing at Jason.

"After the wedding we can start making plans to go back. Hopefully all of our... business here gets settled quickly. It should be an interesting transition."

"Yes, hopefully it will be a seamless transition."

Layla looked expectantly at Sienna and Jason. They were doing that thing again, talking telepathically. They were so obviously talking about something else. Maybe it was some freaky sex talk.

That was her cue to leave.

Layla excused herself and went to bed.

The next couple of days would be crucial in preparation.

Sienna and Layla worked well together. During the week the bulk of the wedding planning was set. Even Jason turned out to have some really good suggestions. And Layla was in her zone, hard at work with planning and organizing.

As Jason's request, Mr. Oscar De la Renta, himself flew in for Sienna's custom wedding dress. He was such a charming man. He kept talking about how it was refreshing to design a gown for a woman with an actual figure without her frail bones poking out. Sienna trusted he would create something special for her.

Towards the end of the week, they traveled to Athens using their impressive luxury speedboat. Jason had some business to tend to and left the ladies to run their own errands.

They headed to Rafaele's salon in the center of Athens. Rafaele was an expert in all things hair. The Italian man had moved to Greece 3 years ago and became an instant success. Sienna discovered him one day when she was in dire need of a trim while in Athens. He loved her instantly and had become good friends with her ever since.

Rafaele was a tall thin man in his late thirties who looked a lot younger. He had vibrant brown eyes and spikey blue and silver hair with tanned skin.

When they arrived at Rafaele's salon, you would have thought the queen had arrived. Sienna was his "principessa." He said the name caught on when he heard Jason call Sienna princess.

Rafaele flipped out when Sienna told him they were engaged and nearly fainted when he saw the massive ring she sported.

He quickly had champagne and food brought in and extracted all the information he could about the wedding plans. He somehow convinced Sienna to let him be in the wedding party. And of course he would do everyone's hair and makeup.

Sienna was delighted, she didn't really care who was in the wedding. She thought the more the merrier. All the while, Layla pursed her lips and bit her tongue as she thought of all the extra work she had to do. She would have to start delegating. She found a quiet salon corner to think.

As Rafaele sat Sienna in the stylist chair, he ran his hands through Sienna's long dark mane. He rattled off some ideas for the wedding day. While he spoke, Sienna looked up at the mirror and noticed in the reflection Layla sitting in the corner. Layla sported a deep crinkle in the brow. She was extremely focused on writing notes. A little too focused.

"Rafe..." Sienna whispered. "I think Layla over there needs the pacchetto completo." (Complete package)

Rafaele looked up, tilted his head and puckered his lips while thoroughly examining the wedding planner.

"Ah yes indeed." Rafaele smiled and rubbed his hands together as if plotting to take over the world.

Layla noticed them staring at her but had no idea of what was being said. She should have run for cover but now it was too late. Rafaele shouted something fast in Italian to his assistants.

One by one the ladies appeared in formation. There was a bubbly petite blonde named Maddy. She would take care of the manicure and pedicure. There was a tall intense looking dark haired Russian named Maria. She would take care of the full body massage and facial. And lastly there was Abebi. She was a woman from West Africa with skin as dark as night. She had the brightest smile but her eyes told a million stories. She would take care of Layla's hairstyle. All in all this was a full forced intervention makeover. Or that is how Layla saw it.

"You can't be serious." Layla said coldly.

Sienna and Rafaele smiled widely as they nodded their heads. Layla rolled her eyes but complied.

Layla was whisked away and emerged 3 hours later a new woman.

"Abebi, you really outdid yourself with the cut. Ladies... very well done." Rafaele remarked.

"Layla you look amazing! I can barely recognize you. Do you like it?" Sienna said in astonishment.

Silence.

The woman in Layla's reflection looked familiar but completely different. She couldn't believe that was her.

She did it. She chopped it all off.

Layla didn't know what it was. After the other women worked their magic on her, something in her shifted. It was as if she unsnapped her restraints and arrived at her destination. She stopped resisting and embraced the inevitable change. So when Abebi asked what she wanted done on her hair, she had this strong irrational impulse.

After years and years of growing it out carefully, making sure it was perfect all the time. She was tired of it... and just wanted to be free. Where it was once back length it was now as short as a boy. It was midnight black and modernly styled with little gelled spikes at the edges. It felt alien but oh so right. It was as if a heavy load had been lifted.

She looked 10 years younger and her flawless skin glowed like a doll. Her large eyes sparkled magically. And her high cheek bones swooped delicately down her face.

"So... what do you think?" Sienna was now standing next to her in the mirror. She was worried that Layla hated her new look. Sienna intently looked at her wanting to make sure she captured Layla's honesty.

Layla looked up at Sienna and cleared her throat. It had gotten dry for some reason. Curiously her eyes were overly moist as well.

"I think... I think it will do." Layla whispered. She was trying very hard to keep her emotions in check. She didn't know what the hell was wrong with her. It was just a little fluffing and a haircut for God's sake! But still, she felt something powerful shift in her.

Before they left, while Sienna chatted with Rafaele, Abebi pulled her to the side. She wanted to say goodbye.

"How do you like your look?"

"It will be an adjustment." Layla said with apprehension as she thought of her reflection.

The woman looked at Layla and smiled. "Yes, it will be but you will be fine. Do you know what my name means?" Abebi asked.

Layla shook her head no.

"It means, we asked for her and she came forth."

Abebi hugged Layla and whispered, "Abebi, don't fight it, embrace it."

Layla looked at her in wonder. Her throat was dry again and for some reason her eyes were overly moist but she smiled at Abebi and nodded.

When Jason arrived to pick them up at the salon, he was surprised at how different the wedding planner looked. She was less severe looking and actually seemed approachable. His beautiful Sienna was radiant as always and Rafaele chatted him up about the wedding.

But it was time to head back to Santorini. Jason had gotten word; they had a visitor waiting for them.



Duplicity Ch. 03



Hello everyone- I hope you enjoy this chapter. Don't be shy and please comment. Not only does it really make my day when I read them but I often get ideas for your observations. ;) So thank you in advance for your comments and ratings. Also many thanks to honeybree for her great editing.-p2p

*

When they got back to Santorini it was evening and there was a visitor waiting for them. The man was tall, had pasty white skin and dull gray eyes.

His hairline was receding as if his hair had found out some shocking news and decided to run for cover.

He had a greasy cowlick styled to one side. His bushy brown mustache collided with his nostrils and he wore eyeglasses. He was a heavy set man. Under his long-sleeved shirt you could see his squishy thick arms. His large pot belly set itself up high and was adorned with a fanny pack. His khaki pants were a bit too short and his white tube socks were visible.

He smiled as if excited to see Sienna and Jason.

"Can I help you?" Sienna asked.

Jason squint his eyes at the sight of the stranger. He chuckled but quickly covered it up with a cough.

"Princess, don't you recognize him? It's cousin Merle, from Long Island."

Sienna wrinkled her brows but then smiled. She giggled and gave Merle a tight hug.

"Welcome to the island, Merle. We're so happy to have you! And this is Layla our wedding planner."

Layla shook the hand of the groom's cousin in a professional way while Merle creepily stared at her through the top of his glasses. His gaze was steady on her every move.

She slightly cringed inside. Eww...as if. She thought.

Layla knew she had not lost her mind as of yet. This guy's looks couldn't be saved even being related to Jason Bane. He must have gotten daily beatings with the ugly stick.

Layla suddenly remembered a couple of excuses to get the hell out of there... and away from gross cousin Merle.

"If you will excuse me, I really must go tend to some arrangements. It was nice to have met you Merle."

Merle nodded and watched her walk away.

"Why don't you come inside? We really should catch up." Jason said and made arrangements for his luggage to be brought up.

"Let me show you to your room... Merle." Sienna grabbed his arm and sped away with him to the 4th floor.

The room they chose for him was purposefully isolated from the rest. Layla's room was the closest but was still around the long hallway's corner. It was like a studio apartment, he had all of the essentials he would need.

He had a fully stocked kitchenette, completed with a full bar, a master bathroom, a separate living room with a sofa and a balcony. Sienna and Jason wanted him to feel comfortable so he would stay as long as possible. They also set up an adjacent room as a gym for him. And coincidently the room's position in the house was centrally located in case of an emergency.

When they got to the room, Sienna closed the door and couldn't contain her laughter and excitement as she bounced on the bed.

"Holy shit Sean! I didn't even recognize you. How did you manage to look like a pudgy older white guy?"

Sienna started poking his arms and was amazed to find the fake skin was soft and realistic. His hands were his own but it didn't look completely out of place. Any exposed skin on his neck, face and hands were airbrushed to a natural-looking peach color.

Before he could respond there was a knock on the door. Sienna peered through it slightly and then opened it to let Jason in.

"Welcome man, we've been waiting for you to arrive." Jason clasped Sean into a one armed hug. He couldn't help but laugh in wonder as he inspected Sean's disguise.

"God damn Sean, this is amazing. It looks so real. When I sent you pictures of my family I didn't know what to expect. But you really look like we could be related. But I guess you got all the nerdy unattractive genes."

Sean scoffed and said, "Yea, I guess I did. So you don't have to worry... you get to stay the pretty boy of the family. The disguise isn't perfect but it'll do. If Sienna couldn't recognize me then we should be fine."

Sienna nodded but cautiously said, "But did you have to look so..."

"Ugly?" Jason finished the question.

"Geez, you people are making me feel like a science experiment gone wrong... Listen, when you're trying to blend in, you should try to always look low key. You'd be surprised how easily unattractive people get overlooked."

"That makes sense." Sienna put her hands to Sean's cheeks and squeezed them as if touching a baby. She looked into his eyes.

"The details on this thing are amazing... You even have bluish gray contacts to match Jason's eye color. Where did you get all this stuff anyway?"

"I got my connections..."

It was obvious from Sienna's expression that she expected him to elaborate.

Sean sighed. "Alright alright, it's basically from a manufacturer that sells to mayor movie studios. I got a hookup from a guy I did a favor for once. He can design any mold to look just like anyone. But this disguise is a bitch. I have a full body suit underneath and it's hot as hell. I'm carrying about 60 pounds of extra weight. But it will work because I can wear anything and I'll look like a normal overweight guy. I even brought Merle some swim gear to impress the ladies." Sean chuckled as if he couldn't wait to get into his persona.

"Oh no, don't tell me Merle likes Speedos..." Sienna made a face.

Sean laughed. "Hey take it easy on cousin Merle. It's not easy being a big guy."

"Well, I hope you can take the heat. It gets really hot on the island sometimes." Jason said.

"Please... I'm a professional. But speaking of bringing the heat..." Sean looked off towards the door. "I think I'm going to like my stay here." He said smugly.

Already knowing where Sean's mind was going, Sienna shook her head and tutted disapprovingly.

"Hey Casanova, you might want to dial it down a notch. You look just like the serial killer from that movie The Lovely Bones. I think you should go for more of the mysterious quiet type. Layla is very reserved and proper. There is no way she'll venture out to play with you... especially not with cousin Merle."

"What? Cece... I was talking about the weather here." Sean said cheekily.

"Uh-huh. Sure you were. I know my brother a little too well I'm afraid."

Sean reached out and kissed the top of Sienna's head and smiled. "Yes, you do."

"So I think we should always refer to Sean as Merle. Just in case we slip up somehow. I know it'll be hard but we have to help Sean remain in character." Jason reasoned.

Sienna and Sean nodded in agreement.

"I hate that fucking name by the way." Sean grumbled.

"Hey! Show some respect, it's a family name." Jason said good-naturedly.

"Well I have to say that I'm impressed, Shhu... I mean Merle." Sienna said quickly.

"Cece, don't think too much about it. Just focus on how I look at that moment and remember that I'm Merle... and Sean." Sienna wrinkled her eyebrows while Jason scratched his head.

Jason and Sienna said their goodnights and left him to get settled for the night.

Sean removed the body suit and all the props and felt immediate relief. It was like he could breathe again. He would have to get used to wearing it most of the day. He unpacked and carefully arranged the closet so "Merle's" clothes were neatly in front while all the disguise materials were behind.

Sean took a long hot shower as his mind drifted to what was to come. He hoped his plan worked. He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that it wasn't until the water began to cool that he realized how long he'd been in.

It was odd to be back with Sienna and Jason. He was surprised at how quickly their relationship blossomed. And Jason was quickly becoming the brother he never had.

As he stepped out of the shower he got goose bumps as the cold air touched his tanned skin. Sean toweled his heavily muscled body and tied the large towel at the waist.

His moist chest rippled and tapered off into pronounced abs and obliques topped by a sprinkling of hair. His throbbing veins ran up and down his arms. And his bright green eyes caught sight of it.

The scar on his right shoulder reminded him, of his recent travels. It reminded him of the task that was to come.

_______

The next couple of days went by quickly. Sienna spent a lot of time with 'cousin Merle.' They discreetly talked about old times and about future plans. Even though there was still some residual ache in the pit of their stomachs; they trudged on and were grateful to have been reunited. It was time to heal.

When Sienna or Jason weren't around, Merle kept to himself and barely spoke to anyone else. It was interesting how people reacted to his disguise. For some reason, people seemed to talk to him even without him initiating conversation; they felt comfortable around him. The housemaids enthusiastically chatted with him about their home life or what problems they were facing. Merle just took it all in stride.

He could always be found in a spot off to the side of the courtyard's bar. He would read, work on his laptop and drink... but mostly drink. A habit he picked up in Afghanistan.

From that vantage point it was easy to see all the movement in house. And there was a lot of movement. The place was slowly transforming into an elegant reception venue.

The workers would come and go, bringing materials in. They put up reams of white fabric and with it create a massive tent-like structure.

Merle kept close watch. He had to observe any suspicious behavior among them.

But most of all he observed Layla. She was an interesting character.

She was definitely a leader. She directed decisively and was available when any employee had any questions. Everything was handled gracefully and with decorum.

When she spoke... people listened.

She didn't seem to smile much though.

When the table linens mistakenly arrived in an off-white color instead of bone; she demanded their immediate return. She hadn't even opened the package completely and knew it was wrong.

"Off-white is off-white and bone is bone". She patiently explained to the phone representative. She had only been on the phone for 15 minutes and somehow managed to talk directly to the owner of the company.

"Yes, well close enough will not suffice. The words... close but not quite, will be what your company says when asked if your linens were used in the Bane's wedding..."

Layla continued, "Mm-hmm. That's what I like to hear. I'll expect the replacement package here bright and early tomorrow morning. Thank you."

When Layla hung up, she happened to catch Merle's gaze. It stopped her momentarily but she continued her tasks unfazed.

Her quick dismissal bothered Merle. Even though his goal was to not draw attention to himself... she didn't have to seem so unaffected by it.

He refilled his flask with straight up vodka at the bar.

Layla walked outside down to the entrance of the long driveway. She needed to ask the guard about another delivery she was expecting. Merle didn't know why but he followed her.

Layla was handling a box cutter with some orders that had just arrived. She was going through her mental checklist of the things she needed to do.

"For fuck's sake... be careful handling that thing." Merle's annoyed deep voice grumbled behind her.

As Layla turned to see him, he took another swig of alcohol from a flask.

"Isn't it a little early to be drinking, Merle?"

"Never too early, never too late for alcohol. And don't you ever stop working? I swear you're like a machine."

"It's my job... I'm not here for vacation. This wedding will go on without complications." She said as she continued to cut open the box. Unfortunately, she accidently applied too much pressure with the cutter. It slipped and nicked a slice down the side of her thumb.

She let out a surprised scream and cursed herself for allowing her concentration to slip.

"Shoulda listened to me."

Layla inhaled and exhaled. This was partly because of the sting and partly because Merle was annoying the hell out of her.

She was seriously thinking of sharing the pain with that handy box cutter. But it wouldn't be appropriate to have an all-out knife fight with the groom's cousin.

Without asking, Merle grabbed her hand and looked at the wound.

"This is going to get infected if I don't do this right now."

Merle's brow scrunched in concentration.

He had this self-righteous confidence as if he knew exactly what he was doing. He lowered his lips to the wound and gently blew on it.

His breath vibrated throughout her body. Suddenly Layla was uncomfortably distracted by his presence. She never noticed how tall he was before or how massive his chest was.

"It's not that bad. Just a light flesh wound. Now hold still... this is going to sting like hell."

Merle looked at her deeply and she felt herself slightly shivering. There was something about the intensity she found in his eyes that knocked her off kilter.

He had these eyes that just looked right past you, through you and into you... all at the same time.

Momentarily forgetting about her hand; she felt open and exposed... she recoiled at the possibility.

He pulled his flask and poured the contents on her hand.

She felt the sharp sting. But in truth, what bothered her more was that she wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

Merle pulled out a clean handkerchief he had in his back pocket. With one hand on the liquor flask and the other holding hers steady... it seemed he was out of hands.

He slowly lowered his mouth to the handkerchief and with his teeth tied the ends tightly around her hand.

Layla followed his every movement. She felt herself get wet from having his lips so close and knowing that his teeth were tugging her secure.

The pressure and sting set in and it broke Layla out of her trance.

Layla cleared her throat and whispered, "Thank you."

Merle nodded and walked away.

In truth he didn't really have to pour alcohol on her immediately. She could have safely walked back to the house and gotten treated with a first aid kit.

But he had this irrational impulse to heal her, punish her and heal her all over again.

_________

"Hey there you are. Jason and I wanted to see if you wanted to go out to dinner. There's this little place on the other side of the island."

"Fine."

Silence.

Sienna stopped walking and faced Merle. Sienna squinted her eyes... intently studying his face.

"You know it's funny that even though you look like this completely different person, I can still read you."

Merle sighed, "Spit it out, Cece."

"Nothing, I just wanted to see how you're doing."

"I'm fine."

"Yea, keep telling yourself that. You're not fine. Something has gotten under your skin."

"What do you want from me?"

Sienna inhaled and exhaled. This was obviously not going in the direction she wanted. She would just have to try another time. She wondered how she could get him to open up to her.

"Actually, I need you to go into town tomorrow and get your measurements for your tuxedo. Layla will get you all set up. And I hope you don't mind but I've volunteered you to help her with some wedding stuff."

"Me... You want me to help that woman who looks like she has a permanent stick up her ass?"

"She's not that bad. And yes, so stop complaining. She needs the help. She's been working hard and you seem to just be sitting there... alone."

Merle silently grumbled, "Well don't be surprised if I replace that stick she has up her ass wi-"

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

Sienna gave him a hug and walked away. Shaking her head and laughing to herself at what she heard him say.

______

The next morning, as always Sean woke up at dawn. It was his routine and he needed little sleep. He put on some sweats and a hoodie and sneaked off to the small gym next door. He needed to work out. He seamlessly ran 5 miles on the treadmill, did some weights, pushups and sit-ups. By the time he was done, he was covered in sweat. He took a shower and made some coffee in his room.

Then he went through his routine in creating Merle. He airbrushed his hands, neck and face. Slipped the body suit on and made sure all the seams were undetectable. He affixed his silicone nose and with a liquid adhesive brushed the edges down. He then set his bushy mustache and eyebrows. He made sure his greasy strands of hair clung to his bald head. He added some finishing touches to the airbrush makeup. He put the contacts in and finished with his glasses.

"Merle." He nodded at the reflection in greeting. It didn't matter how many days went by, it was surreal to see himself transformed into a completely different person.

As he gathered his things and left the room; he thought it was time that Merle became a little more proactive.

He went downstairs and found everyone at the breakfast table. Sienna smiled when she saw him and gave him a hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Are you hungry? Here, have some bacon and eggs."

"I hope you slept well Merle." Jason said.

"I slept like a baby."

"Good. Well after breakfast you'll go with Layla to get your tuxedo measurements. And Jason and I will have to run some errands. Do you need anything while we are away?"

"Nope. Layla and I will be just fine, won't we?"

Layla who was trying very hard to ignore the whole ordeal was suddenly the focus of attention. She plastered a fake smile.

"Of course we'll be fine. You two don't have to worry about a thing."

"Ok then, Sienna and I will probably be back by dinner time." Jason said as they left.

Layla and Merle were left alone.

Merle munched on his scrambled eggs while staring at Layla in curiosity. It was time to test the waters and see what kind of woman Miss Layla-the-wedding-planner was.

"Sooo... are you going to be assisting in... my fitting?" Merle asked and wiggled his eyebrows.

"I'll be present to make sure everything goes as scheduled."

"Oh, but I think I may need a little extra help if you know what I mean." Merle reached out and touched her hand.

Layla instinctively smacked his hand away.

"Don't think I don't know what game you're playing." Layla said seriously.

"Whatever do you mean?" Merle said coolly.

"I've seen how you try to come off as a mellow quiet guy. But there's always some wise ass in every wedding who thinks he can make a play for the wedding planner. Don't think just because you're some rich older white guy related to Jason Bane that I'll fall at your feet. I won't tolerate any inappropriate behavior from you. Although I am simply an employee at this event, you will respect me. Or so help me God, I'll stick my foot so far up your ass you'll taste my toes in your throat... Do I make myself clear?"

Merle chuckled and almost choked on his eggs. He did not expect Miss Proper to say that.

"Crystal." He said after swallowing.

He was rather impressed with the fire she seemed to have all of a sudden. He really was just testing her out to see how she would react.

He needed to know who this woman was. In this environment, you can never be too careful. At least that is what he told himself.

"I'm sorry if I offended you. What can I say; I had to give it a shot, right?"

Layla pursed her lips and arched her eyebrows.

She cleared her throat. "I'll be downstairs in 10 minutes. Please be ready to leave by then."

He watched her leave the breakfast table. He couldn't understand why but he rather enjoyed seeing Layla uncomfortable and flustered.

There was something about her that piqued his curiosity. Merle memorized her expression when she told him off and threatened him with bodily harm.

In that moment, he saw a speckle of vulnerability in her eyes... and in that speckle he found honesty.

As they approached the car, Merle courteously opened the backdoor for her to get in. But Layla's face remained neutral as she walked across the other side of the car, opened her own backdoor and climbed in.




Duplicity Ch. 03



After just a few days of bright sunshine and almost unbearable heat, the weather turned cool, dull and rainy again. Lady Ann Seymour rather like the cooler, darker, drearier weather. Instead of making calls or receiving visitors, she told her servants to claim she was ill and instead spent the day before a good roaring fire in her bedchamber after a vigorous romp with her demanding lover. 

Lady Ann felt deliciously bruised and exhausted. Strands of her long, rich, honey-coloured hair mated to her damp, naked body. There wasn't a part of her creamy skin that didn't bear red welts where he held her down forcibly. All her muscles were tender and sore and clammy with drying sweat. She never felt better!

"I dare say you've missed me," she said with a self-satisfied smile in between ragged breaths. In response, he captured her legs and pulled her beneath his muscled chest. He deliberately dragged his silky wet tongue over her belly, tracing a circle around her navel. That send Ann into a peal of gasping laughter but as hard as she tried to kick out her legs and push him away she could not escape his torturous ministrations. Then she stopped moving altogether when his tongue traveled lower and lower. She felt a familiar burst of awe and euphoria when he finally flicked his tongue in her sheath. 

"My Lord!" she moaned weakly in protest. "You shall be the death of me!"

As always, he ignored her as his tongue traced a spiral around her feminine depth and plunged up where she was still tingling, still pulsating wetness from before. Oh the things he did to her when he was in a mood! 

It took but a minute for Lady Ann to feel her body riding the tile wave of her release, but he held her legs captive as he withdrew and kept the flat of his tongue against her heated flesh as he rippled and massaged his expert tongue against her. The second wave burst upon her in a white hot flash and she couldn't remember anything until he crawled up her body and plunged his shaft, almost painfully into her again. 

"Oh God!" she cried out as her head rolled back as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Was there ever a man who possessed such masculine intensity, such god-like features as he? Together they rode, with practiced vigor, towards that familiar, yet startling, bliss

Lady Ann was not a young woman anymore, but she possessed a self-assured beauty that could only come with maturity. Her children were grown. Her husband, was long dead, leaving her with enough wealth that she could do as she pleased for the rest of her days. Yet she would happily give it all up to be with this man who reached so far, so deeply into her core, he touched her heart. 

His powerful hips thrust up, slowly but deeply into her core. He filled her. He expanded her, and rendered nothing but a body to satisfy his need. And that was all she wanted to be!

His eyes were squeezed shut, his dark brows furrowed in concentration and an expression akin to pain as he settled into a deep, slow, rhythm.

Lady Ann gave a small yelp when he suddenly pulled away and roughly turned her over, with her face down on the bed. Just as quickly he was on top of her again, to ground his pelvis down against her bottom. With some restraint, he slowly pushed her onto her knees and held himself just at her entrance, as he grabbed a fistful of her damp hair. 

"How much do you want this?" he growled into her ear. The sound of his deep, velvety baritone sent shivers up and down her spine.

Lady Ann's cry of frustration was muffled by the soiled sheets of the bed. "I want it!"

"Tell me how much you want it!" He smacked her rounded bottom and yanked her head up by a fistful of her hair.

"I'm so close!" she gasped. 

He pushed in then slowly pulled his long hard cock out again till just the tip rested at her slick, wet entrance. Her every attempt to buck back onto him was thwarted as he seemed to anticipate her every move. With a deep, throaty chuckle, he held himself just out of her reach even as she screamed, pounded her fists into the pillows.

"Tell me," he said again. "How much do you want it?"

"I want it! I want you! Please, OH PLEASE!!!"

Satisfied with her answer, he slammed himself back into her with a brutal thrust. Ann cried out incoherently as he pounded her relentlessly until the large wooden bed frame shook and tapped out a rhythm against the back wall.

Another thundering orgasm ripped through her and had her shouting mindlessly as she trembled and bucked beneath him. Finally in what seemed like an eternity he grunted his release too, as he drove even hard and deeper into her before he dropped down beside her in exhaustion. 

They sprawled on the bed for what seemed like eternity with just the sound of their labored breathing and the sound of great droplets of rain plop onto the awning over Lady Ann's bedroom window. Finally she rolled over to him to marvel adoringly at his well muscled, naked body. 

"My Lord Davenport ," she said with a tender smile as she ran her fingers through the damp, dark hairs on his chest. "How I've missed you in my bed. Promise not to stay away so long again."

Lord Davenport started up at the underside of Lady Ann's the canopied bed. His expression was inscrutable, though he seemed deeply lost in thought. Ann knew well enough not to disturb him. Instead she was content to just allow her fingers to lightly trace over the lines of his face. Abruptly he sat up and bounded out of bed. Lady Ann felt the room suddenly grow chilly as she watched him pick up his discarded trousers off the floor and pulled them on again. 

"I'm jesting!" she exclaimed with a nervous laugh. "I'm not a simpering young girl to force silly promises on you. I'm far too busy to entertain you more than I already do."

Silence.

"John!" she cried out finally. "Whatever is the matter?"

He finally turned and gave her a weak smile. "My apologies, Ann," he said softly, darkly.

She studied his grim expression carefully. "Won't you stay and dine with me?" she asked almost hopefully. "I have a clever new cook. French of course."

"Not tonight ," he said and went to retrieve his shirt tossed carelessly over the back of a chair. "I dine with Philip tonight. He leaves tomorrow on a rather urgent trip."

Ann tried not to let her disappointment show as she pulled a rumpled sheet over her nakedness and sat up on her haunches. "I hear there was some sort of spat between you and Philip. Has it been mended then? Why is he leaving now?"

It was clear to Lady Ann that Lord Davenport wasn't in the mood to discuss his cousin. A pained expression, such as she had never seen on the Marquess, crossed his handsome face and he sat down rather heavily on the bed beside her. 

"He goes to tend to urgent business on my behalf," he finally replied after a moment of pregnant silence. 

"You are so good to him!" she declared as she sidled up next to him to rest her chin upon his shoulder. "His own brother does not love him as well as you. Without you to give him a living, I shudder to image where the poor boy would end up."

Lord Davenport moved away from her to finish dressing. "I would not say that I've been so good to him." 

In the back of his mind, Lord Davenport was replaying his last conversation with Philip as they left the Warwicks.

Philip was incensed as he had never been before. "I am not reproaching you for my own selfish reasons! God know, I have no claims on her. But what you are doing... what you were doing back there... you've compromised yourself and her!"

For once in his life, Lord Davenport felt properly chastised. Philip was right of course. Had anyone actually seen what he had done... what he might have done....

Philip was on a rant. "It was obvious from the moment you set eyes on her, you felt an attraction. Do you intend to marry the lady?"

Lord Davenport let out a scornful snort.

"Then how could you be so reckless to give no thought for your own reputation, or hers?" Philip nearly shouted. "She is a refined young lady. Innocent and pure. You cannot ruin her honor for your own selfish purpose!" 

Lord Davenport knew he could not tell Philip what he had seen the day he saw Lady Evelyn entering Prince Edward's residence. It may crush Philip or it may free Philip from any lingering feelings he still had for her. Somehow Lord Davenport suspected that the reveal would likely crush Philip's sensitive soul, so he said nothing and allowed his cousin to rage on. 

"It will not happen again," was all he finally said.

Philip still wasn't quite satisfied. "There's so much of you that was good and honorable. But over the years, you've grown cynical and dark. I know you sneer at social conventions, but you must think of the consequences your actions will evoke. You are dancing on the precipice of grave sin!"

"Enough!" Lord Davenport finally grounded out, his patience at an end. "Your precious Evelyn's honor has always been safe from me. Do not bring it up again!"

Philip flinched slightly as he felt his cousin's words were chosen carefully. There was a meaning there that Philip couldn't fathom. If he hadn't been so incensed with his own indignation, Philip might have paused to ask about it. As it were he wasn't quite finished. "I cannot be a true friend to you if I hold my tongue when I see you in danger. Right now, I see you are a danger to yourself, John. Do not play with the feminine heart so lightly or you may find yourself ruined in the end!"

A deep sigh from Lady Ann brought him back to the present. "I shan't bore you with such things my dear Ann. We'll dine tomorrow night if you are not engaged elsewhere." 

"What of the other matter?" she asked softly. "I hear your father is quite keen to see you married."

Oh how quickly gossip travels. "He and everyone else it seems. It's become quite unavoidable at my age you know," he replied sardonically.

"Have you a lady in mind?" she asked lightly; her tone and expression light. Too light.

A corner Lord Davenport's lips pulled back into a knowing smile when he saw her wait with bated breath for his next words. "I suppose I can forgive your curiosity. What else is there to life for your sex but marriage and children? I've not given the matter that much thought. I'm sure she will reveal herself in time." 

"What will you tell your father?" she teased.

"That I simply haven't the time nor the patience for a courtship full of empty poetry and meaningless flattery."

"Here they think you a gentleman of few words and such a standard for dignity," Lady Ann said with a throaty laugh. "You should hear all the romantic notions build upon your enigma. All along, you simply couldn't be bothered. Shall I pick your wife then? What would you like in a wife?" 

"Someone who wouldn't bore me," he said flatly. "But she I might deem... compatible will not be to my father's liking, and he will convince his Majesty to withhold the royal approval. It will have to be someone to his liking I'm sure. An empty-headed young virgin capable of bearing children but not much else."

"Must she be a virgin then?" she asked with a steady voice. "I mean, wouldn't a more mature woman of proven fertility and her own wealth be just as sufficient?"

"I'm bored with this conversation!" 

Lady Ann settled back upon the bed with a tiny smile as she positioned herself so that her naked curved were displayed to their best advantage. "You are a most impossible man, my lord," she said seductively. "Most men look forward to their virgin bride."

He glanced down at her supple white body bearing his marks with a roguishly raised brow and a devilish grin. Slowly and deliberately he crawled back over her delectable body. She squirmed in delight beneath him. "While I like a challenge as much as the next man, I could hardly look forward to some wide eyed, resistant chit screaming bloody murder beneath me. Not when there's much more enjoyable rides!" 

She gently pushed him onto his back, and roll with him till she sat straddled on top of him. Very slowly and seductively she started to undo his shirt, placing gentle kisses upon the skin she exposed. Lord Davenport rose upon his elbows to watch her as she slide down to the foot of the bed to kneel between his legs as she unfastened his breeches. He sighed deeply with satisfaction when he felt her hot wet mouth tenderly engulf him. "No, I can't say I would prefer a virgin when there is such a talented.... mouth as yours!" 

**************************************

"Oh Edward!" Evelyn screamed, exacerbated, to an empty room as she read over his hastily scribbled note. 

He was never known to be dependable when they were children and time hasn't matured him. She hadn't been home but an hour after leaving him when he sent a scribbled note with some excuse for not being able to join her at the theatre that evening after all. Edward's brief note offered no apologies nor did he attempt to make plans for a future date. 

Evelyn had really been looking forward to an evening out with Edward. She was simply lonely for a friendly face in the cold, calculating maneuverings of high society, where every look was measured and every word was spoken with purpose and care. 

Time seemed out of joint when night after night Evelyn found herself stuck in the milieu of the Peerage progeny. There were so many balls, so many teas and recitals and picnics with the same set of people, making the same conversation, till all the days seemed to meld into one. 

Since that afternoon at the Warwicks, the name of Lord John Mallory, the Marquis of Davenport, was on everyone's lips. He was attending more and more society functions as gossip has it that he was finally in the market for a wife. That news sent a jolt of excitement through the bon ton and they gladly made him the cynosure of every event. Afterwards his every move, his every word was described and repeated and analysed for any hidden meaning. Which young lady did he speak to? How often? What did he say?

Luckily Lord Davenport stayed far away from Evelyn. When their paths did cross he barely acknowledged her and would move on quickly. She didn't know what was worse: To be ardent accosted or to be so roundly ignored by him. Yet, she knew he wasn't entirely unaware of her, as she would often feel his eyes upon her, even across the expanse of a crowded room. Whenever she was asked to dance, she felt his eyes travel with her. Whenever she spoke at length to anyone, she felt his presence just on the edge of her periphery. 

It never occurred to anyone to think it strange that the most desired bachelor seemed to speak and dance with every young lady of age except for the sought after lady of the season.

One evening, Evelyn found herself in yet another grand salon of another London town mansion, among a roomful of refined and accomplished young ladies. It was just after dinner and the gentlemen hadn't joined the ladies yet in the parlor. One by one the young ladies stood up to practice their playing or their singing at the pianoforte. A great fire had been lit, and its heat mixed with the scent of rose water all the young ladies wore made the air thick with its sweet scent. Yawns were suppressed behind handkerchiefs and fans and a heads nodded off. 

The hour was fast approaching when the young nobles would put aside their whiskey, cigars and discussions of politics and sport to join them once more. Until then, the fifteen or so young ladies arranged themselves in their places to practiced their best poses that showed their charms at their best angle. Occasionally one or two girlish eyes stole a glance towards the serenely elegant Lady Evelyn, in a beautiful, rich, grey silk dress, perched upon the edge of a Louis XIV settee. They all sat up just a bit straighter to mimic the elegant lines of Lady Evelyn shoulders and how she folded her gloved in her lap. When Evelyn unfurled her fan, several fans unfurled in imitation. 

"They still dislike me though," Evelyn thought. She stretched her stiffened back ever so slightly as she felt the familiar pain of her bodice press into her ribs. Surely her maid, Martha, could lace her less tightly!

As usual Evelyn sat with Regina and Mary, who spoke to no one but each other and ignored Evelyn in particular. Neither young ladies found Evelyn particularly interesting as she didn't seem particularly interested in anything noteworthy. On this evening Regina and Mary seemed more engrossed in their own conversation than ever. Evelyn tried her best to hold her expression immobile as she gave all outward appearance of listening attentively to the pianoforte, but she couldn't help catching snippets of Mary and Regina's conversation.

"...tells me that some husband would want the wife to wrap her lips around it..." Mary whispered, barely able to contain her excitement. "She would be on her knees before him or he would crouch over her when he forces it in. "

" I'm sure no gentleman would ask that of a lady!" Regina whispered back with a shudder. "Surely no refined lady would acquiesce to such a thing... Would she?"

"....he would put it in and out and spill into her that way."

"Spill what Mary?" asked Regina dumbfounded.

"What about the teeth I wonder," said Mary half to herself, ignoring Regina's wide-eyed inquiry. "I can't imagine it would be so pleasant if she were to be, say, startled!"

Both girls stifled their giggles behind their gloved palms when one of the elderly matrons cleared her throat and shot them a harsh glance. Mary and Regina dutifully swallowed their giggles as the recital continued.

"What nonsense!" thought Evelyn, even as she felt her cheeks flush at the remembrance of what Mary had said. "But wrap her lips around what exactly?" Evelyn wondered though she had an inkling that it was obviously lascivious and forbidden. An image of HIS face flashed before Evelyn and she felt a lump rise in her throat and a knot form in the pit of her stomach. She could very well imagine HIM doing just about anything that fit that description! 

"Why does he persist on tormenting me? " she wondered out loud to herself, completely lost in her thoughts. "Why can't I banish him from my thoughts?" The same dower faced matron shushed her loudly. Evelyn's lips snapped shut and she lowered her gaze.

Earlier in the evening Lord Davenport arrived late to dinner and sat on the other end of the long dining table. Lord Davenport conducted himself with detached gallantry that only inflamed his admirers. Evelyn ought to be glad of the distance if she hadn't on occasion caught his fervent stare from across the crowded room. Surely his attention could not have gone unnoticed by the others, Evelyn thought. She felt sure one particular lady, a certain Baroness, had cast her eyes between Evelyn and the Marquess on several occasions.

Occasionally she would even hear his voice, that deep timbre baritone carry across even the most expansive space. It never failed to cause heat to rise within her just as a deep chill ran down her spine. Through her periphery she studied his dark, thick, slightly curves brows drawn into a perpetual frown that added to the intensity of his deep-set silvery blue-eyed glare. No matter who she was speaking to, or where she happened to be, she felt his eyes upon her, no doubt plotting his next cruel misdeed. She will not give him another chance, Evelyn promised herself!

The double doors of the salon opened and noisily the lords came bounding in to a tittering of thrilled feminine laughter. The singing mercifully stopped for the moment as the lords and ladies greeted each other in a buzz of spirited conversation and laughter. A cloud of silvery blue cigar smoke and wafts of whiskey fumes mingled with the heavy sweet smell of rose water, made Evelyn's eyes water. 

Just a bit longer, then I shall make my excuses, she assured herself




Duplicity Ch. 03



Just then two men, one tall with coppery hair, the other slightly stockier of build and losing his hair, made their way to Evelyn. After taking their turn bowing over her out-stretched gloved hand, they grabbed two vacant chairs close by. Mary and Regina glared at them, then at her, before they stood up together and drifted away.

"Lady Evelyn, I was telling Lord Adams about how well you ride," said the red-haired Henry Wilkes. "I then recalled that I never had the pleasure of showing you my own fine Arabians."

Evelyn offered him a sweet dimpled smile and fluttered her fan. "One beast is the same as another to me, I'm afraid," she said hoping that would be the end of the matter. 

The shorter, more stout Lord Adams grunted in agreement and took a drink from the snifter in his hand " Quite right! Such matters as beasts are of no interest to the fairer sex," he admonished Henry, who smiled tightly. " Surely Lady Evelyn would much prefer your gardens. Or my gardens. Do you enjoy gardens?"

Evelyn fixed them both with what she hoped was a bright and interested smile. "My knowledge of gardens are from my sense perception only. Which is to say, very little."

Lord Adams was not put off as he had a advantageous view of her bosom. "Ah but gardening is a most agreeable pastime, though not so conducive to the dreary inconsistent London weather. My country estates flower most beautifully this time of year..." he slurred.

"I believe Lady Evelyn is being modest!" Henry protested gallantly. "I think she means to fool us by saying she knows of neither subjects when I've seen her ride and she takes to horses as though she was borne with an innate knowledge of the beasts." 

"An impossibility according to Locke," Evelyn blurted out, in her irritation. She immediately wished she had stayed silent.

Both men gave her a blank, surprised look. "Who?"

"John Locke," she replied reluctantly as she snapped her fan shut. She felt herself being pulled into a conversation she's rather not have then. "I've heard him mentioned on several occasions. I'm merely pointing out one could be of the opinion that we are all borne without innate knowledge or ideas."

Henry looked a bit taken aback. "I'm familiar with the man's work, but I didn't think a gentle lady, so beautiful, would be too."

"Quite!" Lord Adam agreed, his eyes never leaving her cleavage. "That Puritan's drivel shan't be of interest to beautiful young ladies. Book reading is for the homely!" He chuckled at his own cleverness.

Evelyn unfurled her fan again over her chest as and tried her best to keep her smile in place and her voice even. "Surely young ladies, even beautiful ones, ought to have interests beyond gardening or she's likely to be quite bored during the winter months, Lord Adams."

There was deep, rich chuckle behind her, and Evelyn 's spine immediately stiffened. 

Henry leaned towards her with a sparkle in his green eyes. "I disagree. One finds a lady's company so much more riveting when she displays a curious mind. It rather enhances her beauty." He allowed himself a quick glance of her swelling neckline and sucked at his lower lip. "I too have read Locke's essay, Concerning Human Understanding wasn't it? I'm sure he is wrong that we arrive in the world without opinions and ideas for I am sure the moment I opened my eyes on this earth, I recognized truth and beauty."

Evelyn slide her fan higher over her bosom. It proved harder and harder to keep her features inert with both men sneaking peaks over her fan to leer at her cleavage. 

"It would be hard to determine when our consciousness ignited as our memories do not stretch so far back to our birth," she replied. "I'm sure you would agree that without the necessary memories, we cannot say for certain if we arrived on earth with any knowledge at all or even when sense perception began. Who could say for certain?"

Henry nudged Lord Adams with a wink and a knowing smile, that nearly toppled the stocky, unsteady man from his seat. "Remarkably perceptive is she not?" he said as though he had just discovered a pet dog had learned to speak. 

Lord Adams merely grunted as he righted himself and took another sip from his wine glass now that her fan blocked the most interesting part of her. "Now tell us, where did your unique opinions originate?"

"My opinions are formed quite in the way that Master Locke had described, through my experiences, I'm sure," she replied, careful to keep the edge out of her voice 

"Had you much experiences then for one so young?" inquired a deep timbre voice just over her shoulders. Evelyn's breath caught in her throat when Lord John rounded the settee upon where she sat, giving Lord Adams, then Henry Wilkes a short, curt nod. He stood between the two seated men facing her, and pressed a palm upon each of the two men's shoulder. 

"Remarkably young," Lord Adams agreed with a drunken smirk. He grimaced when Lord Davenport's hand pressed down heavily and painfully on his shoulder.

Evelyn felt all the blood in her body rush to her head as she struggled for her next breath. All three men's attentions were upon her and she was vaguely aware that others had turned to watch them curiously. She really should have feigned an illness earlier. Perhaps she still could. 

"I've had the benefit of living in interesting times," she replied, not even sure of what passed her lips under Lord Davenport's steady gaze. How warm and damp her palms felt under her gloves. "So many thought-provoking essays are readily available now."

"Damn nuisance!" Lord Adams declared a bit too loudly. "All the Puritans with their downright blasphemous thinking! I hate them as much as the Catholics!"

"Would that be Locke again?" inquired Lord Davenport, coldly as he peered down his nose at the Lord Adams. "I would hardly group the Lockean freedom of conscious with Catholicism."

"They're all the same to me!" Lord Adams grunted, somewhat befuddled. 

"I see the core concept escapes you," Lord Davenport mused archly. 

Henry smirked and was glad he wasn't on the receiving end of the Marquess' disdain. Soon Lord Adams lost interest, got up and bowed curtly before moving on.

Lord Davenport turned his attention back to Evelyn. "And how have our times interested you Lady Evelyn?" he asked softly. "What do you take interest in when you are not dazzling us with your sparkling wit?"

Was he mocking her? What double meaning lies behind his seemingly innocent question? "None worth mentioning," she stammered and wished she could keep her voice leveled. 

As expected Lord Davenport wouldn't be put off. "Lady Evelyn is immune to flattery," Lord Davenport said for Henry's benefit. "So I think we must have her tell us her thoughts instead."

"Yes, do!" Henry readily agreed, to which Evelyn narrowed her eyes. It's obvious that Henry would readily agree with anything Lord Davenport purposed. 

"My thoughts?" she queried of Henry with a growing amount of irritation. 

"Yes," Henry replied. "I'd like to know all yours thoughts, dreams, desired...."

"You will be bored stiff if I recounted all that. Perhaps I often wonder what it would be like to travel the known world."

"You mean to leave us?" Henry cried out and made to lean towards Evelyn. Lord Davenport's tight grasp on his shoulder held him painfully in place. "Why you mustn't think of leaving! Not when you've made this Season so much more tolerable--"

"Lady Evelyn," Lord Davenport interjected, "is merely expressing a fancy. No need for theatrics, Henry. Go on and tell us which exotic locale peaks your interest? "

Evelyn nervously bit her lower lip as she was certain that Lord Davenport's civility contained a hint of derision. "It hardly matters as a woman, safe exploration of foreign lands is limited to travel book accounts."

Henry was eager for her to recount some of what she had read. That was that last thing Evelyn wanted to do. Not once did Lord Davenport turn his attention away from her and she was most unsettled by his scrutiny. She wished that he would return to ignoring her.

"We're most riveted," Henry insisted when Evelyn would not say anymore. "I image you have an interesting understanding of everything you read. Women often do, you know, my lord. Their minds are quite singular and different from the way we look at the world. Small things hold a world of fascination for them. I'm most fascinated to learn of your thoughts on everything, Lady Evelyn." 

"Mostly I spend my days not thinking at all, or in quiet contemplation of God's will," Evelyn quipped. Henry seemed oblivious to her humor but Lord Davenport was not. In that moment their eyes met and they shared a smile. "That's most agreeable!" Henry interjected cheerfully with a small nervous chuckle as he cast a side glance up at Lord Davenport.

"Then perhaps Lady Evelyn would entertain us in the library with some of her favorite volumes, " Lord Davenport said smoothly and shot a somber, meaningful look at Henry.

"We shall all adjourn to the library then!" Evelyn declared a bit too loudly as she shot to her feet. The other lords and ladies around them gleefully agreed and proceeded to depart the salon. Henry, sensing that he had lost Lady Evelyn's interest swallowed his pride, plaster a cheerful smile on his face and feel in step with a charming lady who he recalled was quite a wealthy widow.

Lord Davenport drew Evelyn back before she could walk away. He merely touched her elbow and she found herself following him into the recesses of a nearby enclosure. She shouldn't be there! She shouldn't allow herself to be alone with him again! And yet, there she remained, waiting on him.

"I mean to speak with you sooner," he murmured intimately to her when they were out of earshot.

"I'm sure we have nothing to say to each other," she croaked. She could hear the laughter of the others drift further and further away. When he took a step towards her, she reflexively took a step back. Rather than pressing himself on her as she half expected him, he stepped back instead, and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Don't we?" he queried, with a lift of a dark thick brow. He smirked at the top of her dark head, a tumble of dark curls pulled back by an invisible fastener. How thick her lowered lashes were as she fixed her gaze off into the distance. He remembered vividly just how velvety soft the skin on her cheeks felt to his touch. "Surely we do after you've allowed me such --- liberties." 

"I allowed you nothing!" she protested, with a look of horror as she looked up at him. "Please my lord, this is highly irregular they way you speak to me, the way you... handle me. Please have pity on me! I've done nothing to incur your wrath!"

His smile faded at her words. "You have not incurred my wrath," he replied softly with genuine surprise. 

"Then why do you torment me, sir?" 

"You've tormented me as well" Lord John replied grimly. With his head bowed, he slowly uncrossed his arms to reach for one of her small gloved hands, hanging helplessly by her side. 

Evelyn watched him, entranced as he reach for her right arm and slowly peel the edge of the silky fabric down her elbow, to her forearm till wrist was exposed. She shivered and her lashes fluttered when, clutching her naked arm and wrist, he kissed the blue pulsating vein there, once, twice. She could only watch as he completely removed her glove and traced a finger over the lines on her dampened palm as if he could find the answers to life's mysteries there. Then his grayish blue eyes flicked up and she felt her breath catch again at the raw desire she saw there. 

"My cousin once described you as no other woman he had ever met," he said thickly, in a half-whisper as he hung his head, almost sheepishly. "I find myself equally enchanted by you. When you are near I'm not capable of reason. Nothing else seems as important as possessing you. I believe I would tear this house down stone by stone, brick by brick with my bare hands just to have you!"

"My Lord!" she choked, completely undone by the way he peered up at her from beneath his dark brows. 

He inched closer and dipped his face down dangerously close to hers as he reached up to caress the flesh on her lower lip with his thumb, "My lack of self control for you, have offended my oldest and dearest friend, my own cousin. I assured him I would stay away from you. It's just that I cannot." 

"Am I to blame for this as well?" she asked miserably. 

He pressed his thumb over her lips to gently silence her. "I would not put that upon you. Have I been so terrible to you?"

She lost herself in his eyes as she watched his dark pupils expand with desire till she could barely see his blue irises. He dropped his gaze to where his thumb slowly rubbed over her lips and watched her daintily dart her tongue out slightly against his thumb. The sight made Lord John's heart beat thickly in his chest and he breathed out a shaky sigh.

"You see I was the one who behaved most deplorably towards you." He dropped his forehead down to hers and gently nuzzled against the curve of her right cheek, "No matter what... I had no right to accuse you. But I'm completely mad for you, you know. Even when I know you belong to another.... Where it concerns you, I can't seem to help myself." 

Evelyn's thick dark lashes fluttered and she had almost stopped breathing when he finally encircled her tiny waist and drew her against the hard length of his body. He kissed her lips, then drew back slightly and punctuated each of his next words with a gentle kiss upon her forehead, her brow, her little nose and finally, back upon her lips again. "I. Can't. Help. Myself."

Without further thought she leaned up into his kiss and felt him take hold of the back of her neck to hold her in place as his tongue probed hers. Unlike before, this time his kiss was deep and gentle. When he rocked back on his feet, Evelyn found herself deeping into him to chase his lips with her own. 

"My lord," she moaned breathlessly when he suddenly released her to bend down at her feet. Part of her couldn't fathom what he might be about and her young, excited heart thundered loudly in her chest in anticipation. But he merely stooped down to pick up her forgotten and discarded glove. With a slight crinkle at the corners of his twinkling eyes, he handed it back to her with both hands with a slight bow at the waist before he turned and casually strolled away.

*******************************************************************************

Lady Ann Seymour was too sophisticated, too wise to make a scene as she watched her erstwhile lover's seduction of another woman unfold. When Lord Davenport first reentered Society, Lady Ann immediately noticed that he seemed to orbit around the pinnacle that was Lady Evelyn. Lady Evelyn had a lovely face and a grace about her that was most attractive. But somehow, Lady Ann thought Lord Davenport was above the ingenue allure. Stoically Lady Ann stood to one side as she observed him sneak glances at the dark-haired young woman for quite some times now. She watched with tempered astonishment as he tried to hide his interest beneath a veneer of indifference. The answer was of course too painful, too disturbing for Lady Ann to even admit to herself. 

One evening, Lady Ann decided to test him. They had just dined in her chambers, and he refused another glass of wine. Ann was feeling particularly precipitous, knowing that his mind was elsewhere. She decided to repeat what everyone else was saying about Lady Evelyn, that perhaps the dark-haired, fair-skinned beauty was the natural child of the French king during his years in exile. Ann wondered out loud if Evelyn was untruthful about her age. The girl seemed far too precocious for eighteen. Perhaps the secret was, Lady Evelyn had been maîtresse royale herself! 

Lord Davenport said not a word throughout her soliloquy. When she finished, he simply pushed back his chair, gathered his hat and gloves without a word and left her house for the last time. No matter how much Ann apologized and entreated, he would not stay. 

When Lady Ann sent him a note shortly after, her note was returned unopened. As did all her subsequent notes. When their paths did cross he was politely aloof and passed her without another glance. 

Outwardly Lady Ann was charming and unaffected as she was expected to be. She danced, she laughed, she flirted with all the fashionable young nobles. Even if anyone knew of her dalliance with Lord Davenport she was expect to swallow down the bitter bile in her throat and carry on.

Affairs came and went. That was the nature of such things. Ann had no illusions that he would marry her, regardless of how much she might wish it. The most Ann could hope for was that he kept his arrangement with her even after he took a wife. Then it became clear that was not to be and her heart ached with loss and unexpressed rage when she saw Lord Davenport finally approach the otherworldly Lady Evelyn. 

"In time," Lady Ann said ominously to herself as she watched Lady Evelyn take Lord Davenport's hand.. "In due time....."

**************************************************************************** 

The remainder of that evening was spent without incident, pouring over old and new leather bound volumes and in poetry reading. Nothing registered with Evelyn. She sat. She spoke when spoken to. She sipped a small glass of wine, all in a haze. 

Lord Davenport was locked into conversation with two serious looking gentlemen. Evelyn watched his lips curl every so often in a knowing smile as though he sensed her attention and could read her thought. That made Evelyn blush to the roots of her hair. Her senses were in an uproar as she fought to maintain her composure. When she finally excused herself to return to the Warwicks early, she truly felt feverish all over. 

**************************

Lord Davenport watched her made her excuses to their hosts, then made her escape with her yawning maid in tow. He quickly slipped away before anyone noticed and followed them out to the awaiting carriage. Before the young maid could clamber in after her mistress, Lord Davenport swiftly yanked the surprised servant out of his way. He climbed in after Lady Evelyn and shut the door quickly just as the carriage rambled off.

Evelyn wasn't at all surprised when Lord Davenport pushed his way into her carriage. He was on her in an instant, with his arms around her waist. They both tumbled to the floor of the carriage as it lurched forward. He pressed her back into him and effortlessly tilted her chin back to seize her lips with his. 

"Oh!" was all that she said when he ran his fingers through her soft silky hair and caressed her face. 

"Unbelievably beautiful," he murmured against her warm skin. He trembled slightly when he grasped her bosom, strapped tightly under the stiff fabric of her bodice. Evelyn's head rolled back, her slender neck arched against his shoulder to offer him all of her. 

"Evelyn, sweet Evelyn!" he murmured. His hand reached for the bindings of her bodice and swiftly loosened. Her supple young breast spilled forward into his palm, a heavy handful of soft yet firm flesh. 

Lord Davenport knelt on the floor of the rocking carriage and pulled her firmly into his lap as he deepened their kiss. Evelyn clung to him and barely seemed aware that she sat in a dark carriage with her breasts exposed to him. He drank in her beautiful face, eyes closed, mouth slacken as a woman in the throes of ecstasy. 

"I want to drizzle honey over these," he said when he dragged his lips over a hardened nipple while he squeezed and teased the other. "And lick it off slowly.... like this. Then I will drink wine from your lips."

If Evelyn wasn't already sprawled on the floor of the carriage, she would surely have fallen over. The carriage rocked them gentled as he cradled her, suckling each of her nipples in turn, sometimes licking her flesh, other times gently biting at her tender peaks. She must have fainted again for she lost track of how long he spent nestled between her bosom, face pressed between the swell of her generous globes. Only when she started to feel her skirts lift and a hand part her knees did she finally snap back to reality. 




Duplicity Ch. 03



"No!"

He lifted his lips back to hers once more. "Hush, shhh..... sweetheart. Let me please you---!" 

"Stop! You mustn't touch me there!" she shrieked desperately. Her little fists pounded and pushed at his shoulders and chest but he was immovable. Deftly he was under her skirt and his long fingers began to explore apex between her legs expertly. Evelyn's eyes widened then rolled back into her head as a torrent of tingling sensations from deep within her belly washed over her. 

"Please--- my lord!" she whimpered weakly, unable to fight him or her own desire any longer. "Oh no...!"

************************

His Grace, the Duke of Northumberland toasted his king with a slight clink of their wine glasses in the king's own study. The elderly man with a tuft of billowy white hair then turned to young Prince Edward and salute him as well. 

"How will your Grace break the news to your son?" asked His Majesty. 

The elderly Duke huffed in contempt as he took a sip of his wine. "Hardly matters as long as I give him ample time to arrive at the church on time. His words those were. My son, for once in his life decided to acquiesce to my better judgment by letting me chose his wife."

Prince Edward chuckled as he studied the large stiff parchment paper in his hand. "Well he's a better man than me."

"We beget children to inherit our title and lands. Marriage ensures the proper order of such things," his Grace opined with a hardened faraway look in his eyes. "I should have chosen a frightful shrew of a girl for my son's insolent attitude. Instead I've given him a wife of great beauty and charm from all accounts which is more than he deserves. I thank your Majesty for your generosity of course. He owes all his future happiness to you. "

"I do suggest holding off the announcement for now," Edward said softly. "Not till after I've the chance to speak to Lady Evelyn and get her use to the idea. "

The Duke opened his mouth to speak, perhaps to protest.

"Quite!" His Majesty agreed. "She is young. Shan't just drop this on her. Turn her mind towards marriage and see to it she has all that she needs to ready herself, Edward. How old is she this year, 18 yet?"

"Just, Father."

"Jolly good! We leave it to you then Edward. Do as you see fit with our blessing."

The Duke was about to speak again but the footmen had already opened the door to the study to usher him out. With a click of his heels and a curt bow the Duke departed. 

Prince Edward congratulated himself on this his most brilliant plan to solve several problems at once. Evelyn can now escape her unhappiness in the Warwick's household, and His Majesty is pleased to secure Evelyn a suitable marriage with a suitably old and powerful family. The Duke can look forward to more lands, more titles and the promise of future heirs. Lord John Mallory, Marquis of Davenport will have his bride in the lovely Lady Evelyn! In time they may even grow to like each other though that's hardly of any consequence. Yes, Prince Edward thought gleefully as he swiveled his wine goblet, his plan was brilliant! Evelyn will be so pleased!

**********************************************************

A pale silvery light poured through a gap in the heavy drapery and sliced across the room. It was dawn but Lord John Mallory had not yet sated his desires as he pounded himself deeply and furiously into the willing body of the young woman beneath him. He stood by the side of the bed with her long thin legs hiked over his waist as his powerful thrusts drilled her deeper and deeper into the soiled bed. She screamed again and again as her arms thrashed about.

He finally threw back his head as he exploding in pleasure and a shout ripped from his chest, "Evelyn! " 

With a deep grunt he fell onto his back in exhaustion. 

"I should take offense to you shouting another woman's name," said the young woman beside him. 

Lord John lifted his head and glanced over to his bed mate, startled. An unfamiliar face framed by long blond hair rather than soft black curls, peered back at him. He signed, closed his eyes and dropped his head back down on the bed again. 

"Get out," he muttered tiredly with his eyes squeezed tightly shut. 

He barely noticed the bed dip as his companion leapt from the bed and started to noisily slam about the room. In his mind's eye he was back on the floor of the carriage again, with his arms around the soft yet supple curves of a dark-haired beauty... 

She gave in to the ministrations of his fingers on the hot, silky, moist folds between her legs. His long fingers caressed that spot on a woman that would send her to the heavens before she crashed back to earth. With his other arm holding her against his chest he held and continued to squeeze and knead first one breast then the other. He couldn't stop touching her, kissing her soft, perfect lips. He felt every labored breath she drew, every moan she uttered and it sent his own heart thundering in his ears to hear the sensual sounds of her release. 

"Oh please," she panted against his lips. 

"I'm not one for poetry" he whispered to her. "I can't tell you what you do to me. Ask something... anything of me and it will be yours. Just let me have you!"

"My lord!" Evelyn cried as she shook the fog from her mind, and reached, unsteadily towards the bench seat of the carriage. "Oh Heavens!---"

Lord Davenport chuckled as he drew her back to him again. He buried his face against the fragrant curve of her slender neck and inhaled deeply. "I will take care of you. Whatever you desire... jewels, houses, books! Lots of books if you'd like. We'll travel too if you wish. You'll want for nothing if give yourself to me. Your Prince Edward is far too young to know how to indulge a woman properly."

Before those last words were even out of his mouth, he felt her body stiffen immediately. A short strangled cry escaped her lips as she lurched away from him while firmly clutching the front of her dress. "Release me sir!"

Her firm tone actually gave him pause and he released his grip. She pulled up her bodice and smoothed down her skirt as she quickly scrambled away from him to sit herself upon the carriage bench. For a moment neither moved. Neither uttered a word as Evelyn held her arms crossed protectively over her bosom. Her hair had long since fallen into dark wild curls around her face, but they could not hide her shame and devastation. 

"You will leave now sir," she said with what dignity she had left.

"See here, Evelyn--!" he started to protest, deeply annoyed that she was being so difficult.

"LADY Evelyn!" she corrected him. Finally she tossed back her unruly mane of loose black curls to glare at him, still kneeling at her feet. "Leave this carriage at once! You sir, are shameful! From the moment I met you, you treated me abominably. What have I done to deserve this?. No! I don't care to hear you say anything! Please go before you ruin me any further."

"I'm offering you security!" he almost shouted at her. "I offer you my protection. More than you've received from Prince Edward. Don't you see you stupid girl? Can you not see that he has cast you aside already? I have no doubt he was the one who concocted your silly story and set you up with the Warwick's household. It would be a good plan except it's a fanciful dream. He wanted you to be debut into society to pawn you off to another man. Can't you see that that will never work? You will be found out and then what's to become of you. Can't you see I offer you a real solution with some honor--l" 

"You offer me dishonor!" she shouted her retort. "You know nothing about me! All you ever do is make baseless accusations and assumptions. Please go!"

"Evelyn," he said more softly, more reasonably as he attempted again to take her in his arms. Even angry, she stirred his passion as no other woman had in a long time. She would not be comforted however and she scooted away from him. "Think of what I'm saying. See reason! No man of consequence would marry a woman of ambiguous background. Don't you see? I will see you settled comfortably, away from here. Don't be stupid, you know I'm right."

Slowly and carefully, Evelyn pulled her dress further up over her still trembling shoulders. She made the best of pulling her hair back, but hot tears started to roll down her cheeks. "I do see reason and my reason tells me you desire me not for what I am but what I've come to represent. You assume to know my relationship with Prince Edward, therefore I am a desirable prize to you! You want to be the man to steal a Prince's purported mistress so you can gloat to all your friends! Then you will abandonment me once you tire of me. Isn't THAT the reality you offer me?"

"I will not---"

"My lord I will not listen to you any more!" Evelyn cried out between sobs. "I was foolish to have let you --- How I've disgraced myself! God forgive me! I've been foolish to listen to other people's good opinion of you when I've known all along that you are a scoundrel, and I-- I never want to see you again. I hate you!"

Lord Davenport's eyes snapped open at the sound of his bed chamber door slam shut. He sat up on the rumpled bed and raked his fingers through his thick hair. The last image of her alluring sadness stayed with him. With an angry growl, he propped up on his knees and drew back his fist to landed several violent blows into a pile of pillows until several fleck of feathers flew up and fell harmlessly back down over him. 

She had acted like a dishonored virgin, he thought sardonically as he pushed off the bed to pace, naked, up and down the length of the room. Such protests! Such a show of false virtue! How easily she compelled him to almost believe her over his better judgement. There was a moment when she ordered him out of her carriage that he doubted himself. Then again he can't recall the last time a woman had so ardently resisted him after almost giving herself to him so sweetly. He would pursue, and it was a lady's duty to feign resistance. Then when he backed away, she was sure to give a sign that she was keen afterall. That was an established dance between lovers. 

It's been years since he's pursued a virgin though... only she was not a virgin! he reminded himself. Prince Edward and who knew how many others saw to that! 

He stopped abruptly in the middle of the room. Perhaps he had underestimated her attachment to Prince Edward! 

Lord Davenport saw in his mind once again how she darted up the steps of the Prince's London residence. He was certain of what he saw and was quite determined that he read the situation correctly. She had involved herself in a clandestine affair, conducted in secret or why else would Evelyn living with the Warwicks with a cock and bull story about being a niece from abroad. Ha! Surely the Prince had convinced her an appearance of propriety would be advantageous to her. Perhaps the Prince had even thought to marry her off to some lowly aristocrat, to be rid of her.

"How could she not see this?" Lord Davenport demanded of his empty chamber. 

Perhaps she was just too young and easily lead astray by false promises. And that could only mean she truly loved the Prince, he thought with an inexplicable tightness in his chest. His mouth went dry at the thought. 

"Evelyn!" he whispered huskily to the empty room. The thought of her loving the wey-faced young prince had Lord Davenport firm jaw clenching and his stomach churning disagreeably. Many women had fallen prey to the glittering allure of royalty, he reminded himself darkly. 

"Well who am I?" he shouted, just as his valet opened the door with a basin of clean water. 

The poor startled, servant quickly collected himself and set the basin down. "You are Lord John Mallory, Marquess of Davenport. Heir to the dukedom of Northumberland!" the valet answered with a stone face, as he held up a dressing gown for his lordship.

"Yes! I'm second cousin to the King! Is that not close enough to royalty to be worthy of her consideration?" his lordship shouted rhetorically at the impassive valet. The servant didn't respond as he set about laying out his lordship's shaving things. 

"I will have her," Lord John muttered to himself as he belted the robe around him. "Whatever it take, I will have her!"

****************************************************************** While the rest of the city slept, Lady Evelyn remained awake in her bedchamber through the early morning hours. She sat at her writing desk furiously penning a letter to Edward though her tears were making it hard to see. Her bed hadn't been slept in and her weary eyes were red and raw from all the tears she had shed. Perhaps it would be best if she didn't write to Edward. Perhaps it would be best if she just quietly slip away while everyone slept.

It was no use! The words on the page had all started to run together. How could she put into words what she had done? What SHE had allowed to happen? 

Evelyn clasped a hand over her mouth to stifle back a tiny sob at the remembrance of how wantonly she gave in to the pleasures HE had coaxed from her. She was lower than the lowest of loose women, as she would have surely given herself to him... if he hadn't put into words what she was about to become. 

"I will take care of you.... Ask anything.... I offer you my protection. " 

It took a verbally reminder of what she was about to become to pull her back from the precipice of disaster. Oh the shame of it all! Yes, she nearly yielded to him and would have not have given a thought to her honor, to her future. A worldly man such as he must have seen the wantonness in her and treated her accordingly. Perhaps she had brought Lord Davenport's licentiousness upon herself. Wasn't she the progeny of a just such an arrangement? 

"The stain of my birth is clear for a man like him to see," she whispered to herself. Fresh, hot tears spilled from her eyes, as Evelyn pressed a kerchief to her lips to silence her sobs. There was no one to hear her as the rest of the Warwick household still slumbered. She must go before anyone awoke. She'll go anywhere if it meant escaping for impending disaster. It will be disaster too if her weak will and Lord Davenport's rakish designs were to collide again.

Where would she go? She could travel north to where her old governess had gone after her marriage to a mill owner, or to one of her own properties she had never seen before. Or she could simply quit this island entirely and travel abroad. She's sort that out after she's left the grey skies of London far behind. No matter where she went though, she would be have her dignity and virtue intact as God and her own conscious demanded of her. Yet somehow the thought wasn't entirely comforting to her.

After some effort to sort and resort her things, Evelyn finally gave up and woke her maid, Martha to help. The faithful servant asked no questions and quickly packed their things into two large bags and a satchel. 

"Mi'lady, surely you don't mean for us to travel alone," her maid protested as they tip-toed down the staircase with their luggage in tow. . 

"I have people meeting us at our destination. My uncle Warwick arranged it all" Evelyn lied. Evelyn almost didn't care if she sounded believable or not, she was too tired after a sleepless night. 

"I see no hired carriages Mi'lady," Martha said once they were down the front steps and looking through the iron gate at the near empty boulevard before them. "Surely at this early hour there aren't any.."

"Run up the street and see if you can't find one there. Quickly! Go!" Evelyn commanded when the girl eyed her suspiciously. 

Suddenly Martha's eyes widened as her gaze darted over Evelyn's shoulders and the trembling young maid sank into a deep curtsy. "Your Highness!"

"Why Evelyn, whatever are you doing?" said a familiar voice behind Evelyn.

Evelyn gave a tiny started shriek and nearly jumped from her skin. "Ed--- Your Highness! You gave me such a fright!"

Prince Edward alighted from his carriage, looking fresh and excited. "You mean to say you didn't hear my carriage? Pity for one so young to have a hearing impairment," he teased.

Evelyn cursed to herself and frowned even as she swept him a deep curtsy. "Highness." Truly she was more annoyed with herself. She was so tired and weary that she completely missed the sounds of the carriage rumbling up behind her!

"Are you going somewhere?" Edward asked as he nodded at her cases at her feet. "Heavens Evelyn. You weren't about to do something foolish!" 

Evelyn had no response and silently allowed Edward to order one of his footman to carry her luggage back to the house. By now the Warwick's servants came spilling out, all in a tizzy, to be in the presence of a Prince. Edward seemed not to notice the commotion around him as he ushered Evelyn back inside. 

The Warwick's family butler came running to the foyer and showed them into the formal parlor with several deep bows. "We're not to be disturbed," Edward said as he handed the butler his hat, gloves and walking stick..

"Why are you here Edward?" she asked once the parlor door had closed and they were alone.

"To visit my dear little sister of course," he replied with a bright smile and a tender kiss upon her cheek. "Sorry about the opera ol' girl. Duty called and so forth. The past fortnight had just been ghastly! But, I say! These Warwicks have the most appalling taste in furnishing don't they? The aesthetics is all wrong!" He swept a disdainful look around the room, then shrugged dismissively and turned his good natured smile back to Evelyn again.

"It's been longer than a fortnight since I saw you last!" she corrected him. It was most irritating for him to be so boisterous when she was feeling so weary and low. 

"Will you ring for tea Evelyn?" he asked pleasantly. "I'm parched as I've been so busy last night that I hardly slept a wink. Do they have anything serviceable or will I have to send for my own brew at home?"

Evelyn pulled a rope by the fireplace and dropped down into a sofa. "Why are you here really? No one rises before noon for anything short of an audience with the King, and to visit me here yourself. What must people think?" 

Edward flopped himself down beside her and tweaked her nose playfully as he did so. "Well I had to see for myself how detestable your living quarters are. You were so low when we last saw each other that I thought of nothing else since. I'm here now to say I've I found you the perfect solution! And quite frankly now that I've seen this place I can't blame you. What is this cushion stuffed with? Hay?"

"What solution?" asked Evelyn urgently. "Speak quickly as I'm sure Lord and Lady Warwick were made aware of your presence by now. No doubt they await you anxious just beyond that door. So speak quickly. If you keep me in here any longer, there'll be talk."

"I can't have a moment with my own sister?" Edward grumbled.

"Half-sister," Evelyn reminded him. "And we are not even that currently as far as the world knows."

Edward picked at the folds of her skirt playfully, not yet ready to reveal his news just yet. "Were you running away Evelyn?" he asked, his tone suddenly serious and full of concern. " Is it really so bad as all that? I was assured that the Earl and the Countess would look after you properly. "

"No," Evelyn mumbled, casting her eyes down to her hands clasped in her lap, as a warm rosy color spread over her cheeks. "I don't-- I wasn't. Of it's no use. You might as well know that everyone is so perfectly cordial. That is all. Just cordial. Yet I am constantly under scrutiny. It is most unbearable to live like this. " It was mainly true. How could she tell Edward what had transpired without revealed her own shameful acquiescence to Lord Davenport's advances? 

The young prince blew out his cheeks in a deep sigh. "Not that again Evelyn," he admonished. "It would all be alright if you aren't so damn off-putting. I know you are, so don't tell me you've been perfectly sweet. You carry this thing of your birth like shield around you."




Duplicity Ch. 03



"Do I have a choice?" she queried sharply. "Was I the one who created this myth about myself? You told me no one would ask who my mother and father were, but that's all anyone ever wants to know. Who would befriend me when there's so much unknown about me?"

"No darling girl. I'm sure it hasn't been easy for you, but it needn't be so difficult if you would just be sweet and agreeable. Truly, everyone will believe anything from someone they like and you are not being very likeable are you? Oh yes I've heard how you've made no effort to befriend anyone at all. That just won't do. My darling, you always did keep everyone at arms length. None of us are truly satisfied with our lot in life, but one must make do."

If only he knew, Evelyn thought as she bite her lips to keep from refuting him. She was too exhausted to argue. 

Edward studied her closely and noted the dark circles under her eyes. "Well dearest I've come with the answer to all your troubles!" he declared loudly with a broad grin.

At that Evelyn face turned ashen and her dark blue eyes widened in panic. "My troubles? -- did he--- how--?" she sputtered out at the same time Edward announced with flourish: "You're to be married!" 

"I'm -- what?"

He placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled in in to press a hard, firm kiss upon her cheek but quickly jumped to his feet away from her when the parlor doors swung open to the butler with a tea tray. It took a moment for the tea to be poured while Evelyn's tired feverish mind flooded with questions. She had thought at first that somehow Edward had heard of her carriage ride with Lord Davenport. But marriage! That was the last bit of news she had expected him to bring to her! 

Finally the butler bowed low and withdrew and they were alone once more. 

"Edward! What do you mean I am to be married? To whom?" she queried.

"Well it was my idea and Father readily agreed. As soon as I heard of his dilemma, the answers all fell into place. Anyway, it's the perfect solution and Father has agreed to a handsome dowry for you my dear. It's almost equal to the one Elizabeth received. You'll have a proper title, and a better one to come. Wouldn't you like that? To eventually be Duchess? Oh it really does solve everything! I'm quite clever when it comes to these things you know. I've married off a school chum to a lovely young lady just last year. I've written to you about Charles Hensley haven't I?"

"Edward, please make sense," she plead. 

Edward's cheeky dimpled grin widened as he relayed, between sips of his tea, how she was betrothed to the eldest son of the Duke of Northumberland; none other than the Marquess of Davenport! The king had given his whole hearted blessing and a contract was signed. As Edward excitedly recounted recent events as he perused the dishes of cakes before him, he completely missed the growing look of horror on Evelyn's face. 

"So no more of this charade for you! No more Warwicks" Finally Edward finished speaking just as he decided against all the cakes with a disdainful grimace. Instead he looked at Evelyn expectantly with a pleased look on his eager face. He fully expect her to cry out in joy and declare him the smartest man in all of England at any moment. 

For a moment there was no sound at all except for the ticking of a mantelpiece clock. Evelyn's ashen face turned more pale as she sat in stunned, stony silence. 

"Evelyn?" Edward finally said. "Are you not pleased? I've ensured your happiness! A most worthy fellow is the Marquess of Davenport! I've dined with him on several occasions. Most interesting fellow if I recall correctly. He's most admired for his bravery during the Continental campaign. Something to do with surviving a winter without food and crossing the Alps barefoot or something. Women seem to like that sort of thing, I'm told. Evelyn? Well say something! Tell me how happy I've made you!"

A small hysterical laugh bubbled up to Evelyn's lips. She quickly pressed her fist to her mouth but could not contain another shrill laughter from bubbling over. Oh she was so tired she must have heard wrong! The thought of it was beyond irony. 

Edward stood over her with a bewildered look on his face as he anxiously sipped from his teacup. "Really Evelyn" he exclaimed after a time. Then a look of understanding crossed his brows and he cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Well, I suppose it would be best if Lady Warwick were to have a talk with you about uh ....what you might expect uh.... as a wife that is. Such matters of delicacy ought to remain within the feminine domain. You needn't be frightened though. It's all... very natural." He cleared the frog from his throat, looked even more embarrassed and uncomfortable as he drained his teacup.

"Oh Edward!" Evelyn nearly shrieked between peals of laughter that turned to sobs. Suddenly Evelyn turned pale and somber again as she turned her horror filled dark blue eyes upon Edward. "When did you say my betrothal was settled?"

"Last night."

"And he has agreed to this? Lord Davenport, I mean?"

"Well I'd imagine he knew something was in the works," Edward replied sheepishly. "I was given the impression that he cares little for the specifics. Why else would he have left the whole decision to his father to sort out? Quite sensible really, if you ask me. Marriage is an affair of contracts, estates and titles. It's much too important for one to just settle on one's own."

Romance was best saved for the cinq à sep away from the home, Edward thought to himself with a wicked chuckle. Best not to say that to Evelyn. 

"Never the less Lord Davenport will not object once he learns its to be you. You've grown into quite a beautiful woman if a brother is allowed to say such things. You have met him, haven't you? At any rate, I wanted to inform you first. Turn your mind towards the idea as it usually matters more to the bride"

"Do you mean he-- he doesn't know?" Evelyn sputtered incredulously.

"I'm sure he knows something.... Hardly matters as I'm sure he'll be pleased to have a wife as beautiful as you. Have you met? I assumed that you have. Everyone of this lot is bound to run into everyone else eventually."

"How could such a thing have happened without my knowledge or consent?" she asked weakly as her lashes fluttered.

Somehow this was not at all the reaction Edward had been expecting from her at his good news. Was she just in shock? He watched helplessly as she suddenly cupped her hands over her face and burst into tears. 

"Oh there there! Did you hope for romance then? Why that stuff of falling in love you young girls read about is purely fiction I assure you. Many happy marriages were made this way! Now, now. You cried less from being stung by a bee when you were five! There, no more tears dearest! I thought you wanted nothing more than to be away from here?"

Evelyn was inconsolable and Edward let her cry with a look of utter helplessness. Certainly not the reaction he had expected. Then another thought occurred to him. "He's not so very old you know. Quite a handsome fellow too. You ought to be pleased. And if he proves disagreeable you'll have so many homes you won't ever have to see him. He's quite wealthy you know, but I think Father intends to give you Windmore Castle as your dowery. Wouldn't that be grand?"

"Thank you Edward," Evelyn said finally when she calmed herself a bit. " You must think me most ungrateful. You were doing what you thought was best for me. But this is the lot of women is it not? Her life has never been her own from the moment she was borne. Her only protection is her honor but that is so easily taken--" She burst into a fresh flood of tears.

"It's not as bad as all that!" he said indulgently. "Here, have your tea. That'll do you good. You'll soon get use to the idea and will be happily planning your wedding.. We'll even put off telling Davenport himself until you feel more amiable to it idea. Whatever makes you happiest."

Her dark blue eyes shone brightly with lingering ears even as she looked up at him eagerly. "Yes Edward! I need a period of adjustment. It's all so sudden. Time, that's what I need I'm sure. Please, if you could keep it a secret for just a bit longer, even from him... I'm sure... I will make it right!"

********************************************** After Edward left, Lady Warwick was in a state. She could not get over the excitement of having the king's youngest son under her roof, and was most displeased that she didn't get an audience with him. She pressed Evelyn with questions but soon gave up when Evelyn, red-eyed and weary, excused herself with claims of a headache. Lady Warwick knew by now that Evelyn would never say anything she didn't want to, the most disagreeable child! Even so, a prince had been in her home! There were calls to be made that morning and she already knew how she would let it slip that royalty had been in her parlor!

So the Lady Warwick and her sisters were not at home when the Lady Ann Seymour came to visit with the Warwicks. The Earl wasn't feeling well enough for visitors which left Lady Evelyn to greet the Baroness alone.

Evelyn drew an uneasy breath. She was still trembling from the latest revelation but she did as she should and invited the Lady Ann to sit in the same parlor Edward had vacated not two hours earlier. "My cousin is not at home and I'm afraid I am a poor substitute," Evelyn said with as much composure as she could muster.

"My dear child!" Lady Ann exclaimed, forgoing the usual formalities. "How pale and tired you look. Whatever could be the matter?"

Evelyn smiled weakly as fresh tears threatened to spill again. Lady Ann saw the slight tremble in Evelyn's chin at the subject of friendship, and took note of Evelyn's red and swollen eyes and puffy cheeks were two indentations were starting to form just above her cheekbones. The girl was a wreck and Lady Ann was determined to discover the cause. 

"I can't possibly trouble you Lady Ann. You'll think me so silly."

Ann took ahold of Evelyn's hands and pulled her towards a window seat. It was a narrow seat that forced the two ladies to sit quite close as was Ann's intention. The older woman's beautiful face was full of warmth and sympathy. "I too was not borne into this lot. For many years I have been an outsider much like yourself. They can be most unkind to newcomers so I've made it my duty to befriend the friendless. I see something troubles you child and I gladly extend my friendship to you as well."

"I shouldn't trouble you--"

"Of course you have Lady Warwick as your confident," Ann said quickly and took note of Evelyn's slight cringe. Ann then produced a silky handkerchief and pressed it warmly into Evelyn's hands. "However one can never have too many friends. My only regret is that I didn't come to you sooner. You are still just a child really. My own daughter is a year or two younger than you. She is away at school but I fear when she returns her debut will not be any easier on her as has been on you."

"It has been rather trying," Evelyn admitted as she held Ann's handkerchief in her listless hands, too physically exhausted and emotionally drained for pretenses. 

That was just what Lady Ann had hoped to hear. She picked up her handkerchief and tenderly dabbed at the tears on Evelyn's cheeks. "My dear girl, there is no reason why we shouldn't be friends. I am new to you, but I have been a trusted confident to Lady Warwick for many years now. As much as I love her, I know her faults. Perhaps because I am much older and with a daughter of my own, I am in a much better position to provide guidance and perhaps even comfort." 

"Lady Warwick has her own sisters to look after," Evelyn agreed in a soft voice.

Lady Ann clicked her tongue on the roof her mouth. "There now, Lady Evelyn. Such sadness in one so young and beautiful. It simply breaks my heart as I think I see my own Bess before me."

Evelyn smiled through her tears at her new friend. The golden gilded clock on the mantel chimed again, taking Evelyn back back to what Edward had said to her earlier that morning. What had he said to her about holding herself guarded against others, and putting off all would-be friends to shield her vulnerable little heart? Perhaps this was redemption coming to her now in the form of the kindly Lady Ann Seymour who so unguardedly offered Evelyn her friendship. 

All the emotions that played across Evelyn's face was plain for Lady Ann to see. "Unburden yourself, as much as you wish," Lady Ann said kindly. "Know that your secrets will be safely and jealously guarded by me."

Lady Ann Seymour listened intently as Lady Evelyn gave her new friend a broad strokes version of what she had endured. Ann felt her fist clench and she felt bitter bile rise in her throat when Evelyn mentioned, almost in passing that Lord Davenport "did not appear a gentleman." Ann had an idea what Evelyn meant. .

"Oh my sweet child!" Ann declared at last with a cheery chuckle. "Such are the ways of men or haven't you learned! No man behaves the way women think they ought to. Of course now that there's a betrothal, all that came before is trivial."

"Still I cannot marry him!" Evelyn declared. "I-- simply can't!."

Lady Ann pressed her shoulder against Evelyn's and dropped her forehead against the young woman's bowed head. "What will you do? Shutter yourself in a convent? Or will you remain a spinster for the rest of your days? Silly girl. You are far too beautiful for such a fate. Would marriage to the Marquess be so terrible? Do you not find him pleasing to look at, even a little? I know so many young ladies who swoon at the sight of him."

"I--" Evelyn sputtered. "I cannot tell you--- or tell anyone why, but this marriage is most horrifying to me."

"Perhaps you love him already and fear these new feelings in you? That is often the case of first love for girls your age."

"I don't know what it is to be in love," Evelyn answered with downcast eyes, her pale face suddenly flush with a deep rosy color. 

Ann chose her next words carefully. "But you do feel something?" she guessed. "Something perhaps you can't yet admit to yourself? You don't know whether to stay or go when he is near? You blush at the mention of his name? Perhaps there are feelings... deep inside you... as though your insides have turned to liquid? Oh my dear girl! Every woman have experienced what you're experiencing now. Not many get to actually have the object of their affections."

"You must understand, Lady Ann," Evelyn cried earnestly. "I never asked for any of this. I simply cannot fathom what Lord Davenport has planned for me. I know whatever it is, I wouldn't be able to bear it. Whatever shall I do? My guardian contracted me to him. I think there is no escape for me, other than to--"

"To what? Run away?" Lady Ann guessed correctly. "Where might you run too? A young lady such as yourself, defying the Marquess of Davenport? Who will give you shelter? Have you thought this through, child?"

From Evelyn's slumped shoulders and look of limpid distress, it was clear that she had not.

Lady Ann reached forth and cupped Evelyn's small, sad face in her hands with all the warm and tenderness of a loving mother. "Do not fret my child. I will help you devise a plan. Trust in my friendship!" 

End of Chapter 3 



Duplicity Ch. 03



Merle smiled and climbed into the car as well. He was going to enjoy this.

"So you don't like people opening doors for you? I thought all women like that sort of thing."

"I don't need your help Merle, with opening car doors or anything else."

"If you say so."

Although the driver, Nico, was supposed to be native to the island, they still managed to get lost. Apparently Nico misunderstood and drove them all around town looking for the tailor shop. And after 2 hours, Layla was not taking the delay well.

Merle silently observed her as she relentlessly tried to talk to Nico in broken Greek. She tried to string together words using her thick language book.

Merle wanted to laugh but mostly felt bad for Nico. Layla was getting frustrated and Merle didn't think Nico understood the things Layla was muttering under her breath. Nevertheless they kept talking over each other. Layla positioned herself by reaching over from the backseat with her book. The problem was that every so often there would be a pot hole in the road and everyone in the car would bounce in the air. Merle thought he had enough of the show.

Suddenly in perfect Greek, Merle said. "That's enough Nico; take a right at the next light. In that intersection make a left. The place we're looking for will be on that street to the right. We've already passed it 4 times. Next time do not waste our time like this."

Layla stared at Merle in wonder. What, How? When?

"But sir, I did not know where it was, I swear." Nico pleaded.

Merle continued, "Do not lie to me, Nico. I will take that personally. I know you just liked how the lady's tits kept bouncing in your face."

Nico's face turned beat red at being caught.

The fact of the matter is he did know where the place was all along. He should... it's his uncle's tailor shop. He didn't think anyone knew. Nico just liked how every time the pretty wedding planner hunched over, her ample cleavage was on display.

Not that Merle was complaining. But he hated when people acted stupid for the sake of getting a free show.

Layla's brow set in a determined way and was now completely infuriated at the fact that dear old cousin Merle knew how to speak Greek all along. And here she was sweating bullets just to get them where they needed to go.

She slightly trembled in anger and she clenched her teeth. The nerve of this man! Does he not know they are on a schedule?!

Merle looked at Layla as she looked like she was going to murder him with her bare hands. It was distracting at how attractive she was in this angry state. If she was like this now, imagine when she wa-...

"What?" He shook his wayward thoughts back to reality. He had no idea what Layla had just said. He chose to ignore her and started to exit the car.

"Hey! You mean to tell me you are fluent in Greek this whole time?"

"That's right."

Layla got out of the car as well and said, "Well why in God's green earth, did you not say something?"

Merle stood at his full height and stared at her intently. He got a little too close in her personal space and whispered, "You had it all under control, sweetheart. You don't need my help remember?"

Layla stood there perplexed while Merle walked inside. Not only was she perplexed because those were indeed her exact words but also because she felt something strange when Merle was near.

She didn't usually lose her cool this quickly. She was always calm, collected and methodical. But it seemed that every time Merle spoke she wanted to punch, slap or strangle him; or a combination of all three.

He was always so arrogantly confident and deliberate in his actions. Although his appearance made him look like he shouldn't be anything but those things. His piercing gaze demanded your full attention.

And it made her uncomfortably powerless.

They finally arrived at their destination. It was actually a large house that the owner had converted into a shop. The short good natured old man was quick and efficient. Merle stood while the man's worn hands took precise measurements of Merle's large body. He laughed and good naturedly remarked on Merle's ample size.

By the time they were done it was past noon. Merle heard a soft rumbling coming from Layla's stomach. He told Nico they were going to walk to the market for some lunch.

Layla didn't understand what Merle had told Nico in Greek but was curious and hoped it involved food. She had given up trying to stay on schedule for the day; she was just tired and hungry.

She followed Merle as they walked down the cobblestone road. The uneven surface made walking in heels challenging.

Every time Layla almost tripped, Merle wasn't too far away making sure she stayed upright. But Layla would stubbornly straighten herself and kept walking. She thought Merle was quite agile to look so out of shape. Merle smirked to himself correctly assuming Layla's thoughts.

The sun was bright and the air was clear. And there was a pleasant smell of the ocean and burning firewood.

A few minutes later, they arrived at a busy seaside market. The local merchants sold fresh fish, fruits and vegetables.

They found a small café where the locals seemed to eat. They ordered some food. Layla chose a fish platter with a salad and Merle went for a dish that had lamb, rice, grape leaves and salad. They topped it off with complimentary cups of wine. They took their food containers and walked down towards the beach.

Under a large shady sea grape tree, there was a small white plastic table and two chairs just waiting to be occupied. They walked on the sand to reach it but they sat contentedly. Layla was so relieved; she quietly slipped her shoes off and wiggled her feet in the sand. She hadn't been to a beach in so many years; she forgot how silky and cool the sand could feel.

Forgetting about decorum, Layla dived right into her food. She softly moaned at how good the food was.

"Mm-mm." God she was hungry and this food was delicious.

It was so peaceful there. The cloudless sky and the ocean were perfect compliments of each other. Layla looked at Merle in curiosity. He was quietly enjoying his meal and seemed distracted in his thoughts.

Merle was trying to concentrate but was having trouble with Layla and the sounds she was making.

"How did you know to come here? Have you been here before?" Layla asked between mouthfuls.

"No."

"Then how did you know?"

"You just have to be observant. If you are observant you will usually get all the information you need."

"What does being observant have to do with anything?"

"Well I saw there were some workmen who was walking in the same direction and its lunchtime. There was a little girl with a water jug who was bouncing in this direction as well. This area of Santorini isn't heavily populated so I figured they were all going to a café or a market."

Layla looked at him and nodded. "So you can figure anything out just by observing people?"

"Yep that's right."

"Alright." Layla straightened and put her dish to the side. "So what can you tell about me?"

Merle looked at her expectantly and shook his head.

"Go ahead. I promise I won't get offended."

Merle shrugged his shoulders. He took his sweet time perusing her features. "You look to be about 23 years old and just started your own business."

Layla nodded and said, "Yes, but you could have Googled that."

"True." Merle said as he stared intently in her eyes. His gaze unnerved her and she looked away.

"You've been in several relationships but considering that you've only been in love once."

Silence...

"Lucky guess," Layla said nonchalantly.

"From the way you interacted with Nico, I'd say he was foreign and it did not end well."

Silence...

"The perfume you're wearing can't be found in the U.S. so I would say he was French. There is a thin line on your left ring finger so that means you were also engaged. From the faint line I'd say it's been at least 6 months."

Layla's expression sobered. She looked at Merle as if he were reading her palm but remained silent.

"Am I close?"

Layla pursed her lips. She sighed. It was her fault, why did she have to ask him to read her? Now there was no way of stopping him.

"I think he cheated on you because I definitely see you have a healthy dose of mistrust for men. And it hurt you deeply... because you trusted him and you don't trust easy."

"Ok. I think that's enough of that. Thank you Merle, for letting me know how easily I can be read." Layla plastered a fake smile trying not to let his words affect her. She knew it wasn't his fault but it was painful to hear your life so pathetically spelled out.

Layla got up and threw away her food. When she turned around she barreled right into Merle's massive chest. She was close to falling over but Merle caught her and steadied her on her feet while she grabbed ahold of his arms.

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize. You were completely right."

"I'm not sorry I said it... I'm sorry that son of a bitch made you lose faith in men." He softly nudged her chin up so she could look at him. "Hey, we aren't all bad." He said lightly.

Layla looked into his eyes and her breath caught in her throat. In his molten gaze there was an electric current she couldn't quite understand.

She didn't notice his protruding pot belly or his greasy strands of hair on his head. Or the fact that he was completely unattractive.

In that moment there was something greater than attraction. What it was, she didn't know. But she knew she had never felt it before.

His breath was shallow and his chest visibly rose with every breath. He had an intoxicating lingering smell of sweet wine.

She suddenly was aware of how strong and sturdy his arms were, like oversized cranes holding her frame up.

There was a certain perfection about the way he held her. And how his strong hands cupped her back.

She noticed how his deep voice did something inexplicable to her nether regions. His deeply timbered voice reminded her of a finely tuned motorcycle. Rumbling its way through her body.

She was drawn to him without any willpower of her own. It was as if he was the center of a tornado and she spiraled through him.

Merle's head slowly descended towards hers as if in a trance... and her head followed his lead.

Suddenly, a car beeped its horn for a bicyclist to move out of the street.

That seemed to break the spell and Layla was brought back to reality. She cleared her throat, looked away and righted her clothes.

What the hell was wrong with her? Maybe she fell and bumped her head without realizing it. She was about to kiss the groom's ugly duckling cousin? She wasn't even attracted to him... she didn't even like him... she didn't want to kiss him in the slightest bit.

Or that's what she kept telling herself.

"I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression Merle. I don't feel that way about you. We will never be more than just a wedding planner and the groom's cousin. It's not appropriate."

Merle's expression changed to something unreadable. Just as they started to leave, he stopped and turned around to face her. His strong arms grabbed her tightly; not caring if he might be bruising her.

He brought his face close to hers and whispered, "Fuck that."

Layla was in a daze and wasn't completely sure of what was happening. But was aware she closed her eyes as her face drew close to his. Her chin unconsciously tilted up and waited...

His thick lips descended on hers softly. He tentatively peppered her with kisses until he felt her mouth give way to more access. He angled her head and delved into her mouth, exploring her for the first time. She tasted better than he expected.

They kissed in that unmovable pose for what seemed like an eternity and a split second all at the same time.

The kiss quickly intensified as they nibbled each other's lips and their tongues battled. Layla let out a soft moan when she felt herself become dripping wet.

He tasted so good to her. She stood breathlessly as he traced down her arm with one thick finger... all the way down to where she had been previously injured. The faint touch left an emblazoned trail of heat in its place.

This man invoked all kinds of desires in her.

Merle slowed the kiss and gathered her face in his brawny hands. His thumb softly rubbed behind her ear. How did he know that was one of her spots?

He pulled away but his gaze held a million promises.

"We should get back." He whispered.

___________



Duplicity Ch. 04



The thick smoke swallowed any possibility of a clear view.

The persistent beep was an alert that something had gone terribly wrong.

The events unfolded at lighting fast speed and at the same time; moved at a snail's pace. A split second was sliced into a million sections.

An unidentified bloodcurdling scream echoed throughout but soon he realized it was him. He was trapped... He couldn't breathe. The toxic black smoke invaded his lungs.

There was the most exquisite reddish orange light barreling toward him. It was so beautiful he wanted to touch it.

If he could only touch it, everything would be alright.

There were shards of metal flying in every direction.

He was being sucked in and pulled apart at the same time.

There was a little girl off in the distance, in the middle of the white flame. She was wearing a pink lace summer dress. Her brown braided pigtails swayed unaffected by the heat.

She was talking to him, laughing at him.

He couldn't understand what she was saying but he wanted to call out to her; and tell her to take cover.

The perpetual beep continued resounding in his mind.

He reached out and touched the small picture stuck next to his controls. It was of a beautiful woman and a little girl. It was the girl in the flames smiling at him through the photo. He opened his eyes wide as he caught his reflection in the small mirror next to the picture.

Suddenly his reflection transformed into a young woman. Her features were familiar but he didn't know her.

The persistent beep resounded throughout the cock pit again.

The last images were vivid and familiar... and terrifying.

Through the windshield there was a flying metal bomb hurled directly at them both.

And then there was blackness... followed by a beep.

"Aaaahh!!!" Layla woke up gasping and panting. The beeping sound was her alarm making her aware it was time to wake up. She cursed under her breath since she forgot to turn off her alarm the night before.

She hadn't had a nightmare like that in a long time. She was disturbed and disorientated. Her sheets were soaked from sweat. She huffed until her breathing regulated.

After a long cold shower she was able to get back to normal. She felt so drained and tired as if she didn't sleep at all.

It was Sunday and two weeks until the wedding. Sienna and Jason told her that today she was explicatively prohibited from doing anything related to the wedding. Apparently, she had been working so hard, she earned a mandatory day off.

Layla didn't believe in days off when there was a deadline but she had to admit she was grateful for it. She thought she might sleep in and read all day. But apparently the sleeping part wasn't working out for her.

She decided to go downstairs, make a light breakfast and maybe go back to bed. There was a cool breeze so she wore her new purple velour hoodie pants set. She bought it when they were in town one day. It just looked so comfortable; she thought she might wear it in her room.

Today she was tired and it was technically her day off. Despite her better judgment, she wore it downstairs. She grabbed some bread for toast and poured herself some coffee.

There was no one there which she was grateful for. It was still early in the morning and she figured Jason and Sienna were still asleep. That only left Merle.

Merle...

Ever since that kiss she had been avoiding him like the plague. Merle would go one way and Layla made sure to go the other way. But it seemed like he was avoiding her as well... which was fine by her.

She didn't know what had gotten into her that day. Not only could she not understand why it happened, she couldn't understand why she couldn't stop thinking about it. That kiss... She shuddered from the memory. She hadn't been kissed like that in... well never. If he could make her feel that with one kiss; imagine what his talented mouth was capable of. What was she thinking? No, she would continue to avoid him at all costs.

It was just a little odd that Merle would avoid her. Wasn't she the one that supposed to play hard to get? What is she talking about?! Playing hard to get? She didn't mean that. Did she?

Layla sipped her coffee while her thoughts ran wild. She didn't even hear the shuffling as it entered the kitchen.

"Morning."

Layla snapped out of her daze. She looked towards the greeting; even though she already knew who the deep voice belonged to.

"Good morning." She replied quietly. She continued to sip her coffee as she tried to adjust her thoughts. She was surprised how quickly she was affected by just his voice and presence. She felt the moist heat between her legs begin to form.

Merle poured himself a cup of black coffee and sat down across from her. He'd slept horribly and was in a sour mood... even more so now that Layla was there.

He tried to avoid her ever since the kiss but it was damn near impossible.

It was as if her presence haunted him wherever he went. And even now before coming into the room, for a couple of minutes he observed her from the shadows... entranced by her.

Her expression showed her to be deep in thought. He was surprised to see her in casual clothes; he didn't think she owned anything remotely comfortable. Her curvy body was even more pronounced through the soft fabric.

She wore no makeup and looked much younger... and so beautiful. Her plump lips gently touched the mug as she sipped her coffee. He felt his anger rise as he had this unreasonable pang of jealousy with the mug. He could still remember every detail of those sweet lips; he could easily feast on them all day long.

But that wasn't possible. And he was not happy about it.

If only their circumstances were different. It was extremely dangerous to play with this kind of fire. But he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

He could not get involved with her, especially since he was undercover. Everything was already complicated and he didn't need any more complications. He needed to stay focused. So the only thing that was left was his frustration.

"Did you sleep well?" Merle grumbled.

Layla looked at him and shrugged her shoulders. "Not really. You?"

Merle shook his head.

Silence.

Merle waited until she finished eating her toast to pour them both another cup of coffee. He got up and said, "Come with me."

Layla looked at him in confusion. It wasn't a question or a request. It was a statement, an order. It annoyed her but she was so tired; she didn't have it in her to make a snarky reply. But above all she was extremely curious. She got up without a fuss and followed him out.

On the way up, he stopped by his room and grabbed a large blanket. He led her all the way up the stairs until they reached the rooftop.

It was still very early in the morning and it looked like the whole island was still sleeping. The soft fog glazed over the spectacular view. The sparkling ocean and mighty cliffs fused together. The whitewashed clustered buildings were huddled together as if keeping each other's company. And it made the bright colors of the sky even more clear.

They were so high up, they could only look down. The height made you feel so powerful but completely peaceful at the same time. Suddenly, a brisk wind traveled through her. Layla didn't mind since this was the most beautiful view she had ever seen... and now she was a little more awake to appreciate it.

She looked around and there were a couple of pool lounge chairs set off to the side.

Merle walked ahead and motioned for her to lie down. She looked curiously at him but did just that. Merle then moved his chair close to hers and laid down as well. He then covered them both with the warm fleece blanket. That simple gesture felt so intimate.

They continued laying side by side in comfortable silence.

"So why aren't you sleeping?"

The question caught her off-guard. Not because it was a strange question but because she felt like she could tell him the truth... the unfiltered truth.

"I don't usually sleep well. I haven't slept ever since-" She stopped herself; it was an automatic halt to her emotional release.

"Ever since what?"

Silence.

Layla looked into Merle's eyes and felt this quiet unspoken trust. She felt safe with him.

"When I was 7 years old my father was killed..."

Merle kept quiet and let her continue at her own pace.

"He was a Navy pilot, Lieutenant commander Nathan Coldwell. He was a volunteer as a Blue Angel. He was so proud of it... we all were.

In an air show his jet collided with another one mid-air. The other Lieutenant survived because he ejected in time but my dad didn't make it. I always loved going to the show. That day I convinced some of my friends to go see him. I remember every detail, how the air smelled, what I was wearing, the horrified expression on my mother's face... So ever since then, I have the same nightmare, hence the lack of sleep."

There it was. The whole truth.

She was surprised she didn't hold back, there were very few people who knew that about her. Layla looked at Merle and was relieved when she didn't see pity in his eyes.

He reached for her hand under the covers and instinctively kissed the back of it; he rested it on his burly chest.

"What was he like?"

Layla smiled at the memory. "He was funny and sweet. He always had these great adventures to take me on. Whether we were pirates, cops and robbers or astronauts; we always had fun. We didn't need much but always had the best time."

"And your mother, how did she handle it?"

Layla's expression turned solemn. "Dad was the center of our universe. When he passed, my mom just gave up. She didn't know how to cope on her own... She took to drinking and that quickly moved to drugs. She's been sober for 6 years now... which is great. But as a kid I had to grow up really fast. I had to be my father, my mother and take care of her all before I hit puberty."

Merle still hadn't said anything in response but he pulled her by the hand until she was lying in the same lounge chair as he was. She was partly lying directly on top of him. She snuggled and laid her head on his strong chest. He had a fresh masculine scent that calmed her. Her heartbeat synched in harmony with his.

"It took me a year to let my ex, Pierre, know about my past..." Layla whispered. "And how is it that I just told you my deepest darkest secrets and I don't know anything about you?"

"Add good listener to my growing number of irresistible qualities."

Layla smiled. She muffled a chuckle into his shirt. She slowly moved her head and propped her chin up. There was a chill in the air but his chest was warm and comforting.

Merle lightly traced a finger down her nose as he observed her.

"So all these years you've had to be so strong... all by yourself?"

Layla shrugged. "I just did what I had to do."

Merle sighed. "Do you forgive her?"

Layla cleared her throat and let out an uncomfortable laugh. "You get right to the point don't you?"

"I try to."

Layla sighed. "I do forgive her," she said pensively. "My mother is all I have left so I should forgive her... but it's easier said than done."

"It'll happen when it supposed to happen."

"You seem to know what you're talking about."

"Something like that," Merle whispered.

"Tell me about you... anything."

"What do you want to know?" Merle asked already formulating his back-story.

"Well... How old are you?"

"35," he said without missing a beat.

"Really? I thought you might be a little older."

"Are you calling me old, little girl?"

She shook her head and chuckled; although somehow she found herself aroused by his words.

"Anything else?" Merle asked patiently.

Layla sensed hesitancy as he spoke but continued. "Ever been married?"

"Nope."

"What do you do for a living?"

"I'm a retired marine." Not exactly but close enough, he thought.

"A marine... really? I wouldn't have pegged you for a marine."

"Well I wouldn't have pegged you for a navy brat either."

"Hey!" Layla playfully smacked his shoulder.

"Ok, so you're not a brat?"

Layla rolled her eyes and pursed her lips. "No, I am not a brat." She smiled and continued, "Ok so what else? You were a marine, and?" It was beginning to feel like pulling teeth to get him to talk.

"Like I said, I served my country. But like many soldiers, you leave pieces of yourself there. When I came home, it wasn't the same. My family kept trying to make me open up. But that will never happen because if they knew, even a little, of what I went through they... they-"

"Wouldn't be able to sleep either." Layla finished his thought.

Merle cleared his throat. "Right. And I find myself having to pretend I'm something I'm not for their sake," he admitted. He was surprised how true that statement was.

Layla rubbed his chest lightly.

"I don't know why I feel so drawn to you," she confessed.

"My charming personality and good looks of course." Merle chuckled and Layla followed along. There was an innocent tinkle in her laughter that held his interest.

"You have a nice laugh..." He gazed into her eyes to capture her response.

"You're beautiful, you know that?"

Layla smiled shyly but slightly shook her head. "Ah, you're just saying that."

"No I'm not." He whispered. His rough thumb traveled under her cheek bone while his four fingers rested at the nape of her neck.

Two solitary tears fell one after the other from her eyes. They collided with his large thumb still stroking her cheek. She gave him a sad smile. He pulled her hoodie over her head as if shielding her vulnerability from the world... he would be the only one who could see her.

"And so brave... you're so beautiful and so brave." He said as he continued caressing her cheek.

Layla sighed, "You make me believe you."

Merle brought her face towards him while he possessively held on to her. Her face met his willing... yearning to taste him again.

Their lips met in greeting as if they were meant to fit perfectly, melded into each other. His hands settled on her neck and her waist, completely overpowering her. Layla's tongue caressed his, while he expertly delved deeper into her mouth. His lips were soft yet firm. She let out a surprised moan.

There was a spark that ignited her very soul... and dragged hope right out of her. Hope for joy, hope for love, and hope for inner peace.

When their lips parted, they were out of breath. Their hearts beat erratically.

Merle felt himself harden painfully under his thick layers. He had to change the mood quickly before his dick exploded.

"So what plans do you have for the rest of your day off?"

Layla was in a daze from his kiss. "Huh? Oh, nothing really. I was just going to spend the day reading and relaxing."

"Have dinner with me."

Layla was surprised how easy it was to accept. She had come to the realization that she felt something inexplicable toward Merle. And whatever it was, she wanted to explore it. She didn't want to be afraid because he was different; she just wanted to be happy. She had dated gorgeous men before and they all left her hurt and empty inside so maybe Merle was exactly what she needed.

When she saw him, she didn't see an unattractive older white man; she just saw Merle... her Merle.

Merle told her to be ready by 6pm for dinner. They would go out on the town.

She decided to wear something flirty and sexy. She wore a white halter dress with a blue band at the waist. She didn't wear a bra because of its plunging back. She hoped he approved. Her soft makeup enhanced her alluring features. She chose to wear silver dangle earrings and an ultra-thin necklace. She gelled the ends of her short hair up to give it a slightly spiky look and it accented her graceful long neck.

They were to meet downstairs in the courtyard.

Merle threw back a couple chugs of his favorite drink. The liquid courage happily scorched his throat all the way down. What was he doing with this girl? He was supposed to be focused; she was becoming a distraction.

But he just couldn't help himself. What the hell... fuck the consequences.

Layla emerged and walked towards him. Merle blinked a couple of times and quickly became completely lucid and completely numb at the same time. Merle brazenly stared at her form; up and down he stared, as if memorizing every curve.

Layla smiled radiantly at him. He actually cleaned up pretty good. He wore black slacks and a long sleeved white button up shirt. He was sitting on a bar stool.

Silently, he called her to come with his index finger seductively.

He kept gesturing until she came to stand directly in front of his open legs. He then made a twirling motion with his finger.

She slowly turned around for his viewing pleasure. Just as he imagined, her sinful body was made just for him. Her breast were large but not overly so, they sat high up on her chest. Her back's touchable soft skin was completely exposed. There was a thin sliver necklace that dangled down her spine; it was nestled between her shoulder blades. The slope of her neck begged to be kissed. Her small waist tapered off into her womanly hips and ended up on her round plump ass.

She caught his steady gaze and felt herself get wet. She wondered what he was thinking. Her nipples became hard and swollen, pointing sharply through the fabric. She felt the heat of embarrassment flutter through her cinnamon colored skin. But she somehow wanted him to see how he affected her.

"Damn." Merle cleared his throat. He got up slightly in a trance and gave her a simple kiss on the cheek.

"You look beautiful." He offered her his arm.

Layla smiled and said, "What a gentleman."

Merle chucked. "Not even close, sweetheart."

They drove to a seaside restaurant called Dionysus. People were bustling coming and going. There was a lot of laughter and loud chatter. They were seated in a round booth towards the far end in a quiet corner.

After light conversation and a couple glasses of wine, Merle put his arm around the beauty by his side.

She fit perfectly in the crook of his arm. Layla felt flushed with heat, she didn't know if it was from the wine or from being held by him.

She was relaxed.

She wasn't thinking about the things she needed to do or tasks she needed to delegate, she was just there with Merle... her Merle. She quietly observed him. He was like a big teddy bear with a sexy predatory gaze.

"Are you having a good time?"

Layla smiled and nodded. "I am. You?"

He nodded as the waiter approached with their meal and they ate in comfortable silence. Merle looked at her from the corner of his eye. She was just so damn beautiful. And she was somehow attracted to what he looked like in this disguise. He couldn't understand it. He wondered how she would react if she saw what he really looked like.

"Sooo.... how does an ugly bastard like me, end up on a date with a gorgeous woman like you?" He asked between mouthfuls.

Layla smiled at him and shrugged. "I think you're too hard on yourself. I like the way you look."

"Right, sure you do."

"No. Really I do." She slid toward him and purred. "I find you to be so sexy." She bit her lip. "I love a little extra something to work with."

Merle looked at her expectantly. "Come again."

"I've always had this white daddy fetish... and you're just the man to help me out with that."

Merle's mouth dropped open.

Layla busted out laughing. She was laughing so hard, you could probably here her throughout the restaurant. Tears ran down her face as she continued to giggle.

Merle chuckled, "Ok, ok I see. So you're using me?"

Layla's laughter subsided but she still had the biggest smile on her face. "No... not yet."

Merle narrowed his eyes and his gaze turned predatory. Suddenly he kissed her. He muffled a groan and continued to feast on her lips. His hands traveled everywhere throughout her body. She was on fire... and she wanted more of his flame. Her small hands moved toward his pants.




Duplicity Ch. 04



Jeffrey the footman brought in tea, then went to close all the window shutters in the Warwick's front parlor to ward off the rain that had started to fall. He stroked the fire in the fireplace a bit then bowed to the two ladies who occupied the room before he quickly retreated.

Lady Ann was a picture of serene elegance as she poured the tea. Beneath her cool exterior her stomach clenched and her mind raced. The tea and biscuits did not wash away the bitter bile in her throat. Still she gave away none of her inner turmoil as she petted Lady Evelyn, who leaned upon her so exhausted, and so distressed and so trusting.

Beautiful, young, mysterious and now weary, Lady Evelyn. Ann was objective enough to know that her own fading looks could not compare to Evelyn's alluring freshness. The young woman was simply perfection and it wouldn't be hard for a man to lose himself in the deep pools of Evelyn's sapphire-blue eyes. Ann was hard pressed to believe that there might be intelligence there too. Afterall, Ann thought to herself, if she had been Lady Evelyn, she might wonder why, after ignoring her as the rest of the blue-blooded ladies had done, Lady Ann was suddenly offering her friendship. Perhaps Evelyn may even ask, what Ann's motivation might be as no one amongst this lot ever did anything without purpose. If Ann were Evelyn then she would have guessed that a sudden offer of friendship usually hides a deeper motive. As Ann carefully studied Evelyn's beautiful, sweet face, there wasn't a trace of suspicion behind those wide-set sapphire eyes.

So as the two ladies sat, shared tea and talked, Evelyn did not suspect at all that every time the name of Lord Davenport passed her perfectly shaped lips, her new friend dug her sharp nails into the palm of her hand. There was no way Evelyn could know that what she was telling Lady Ann were like icy blades slicing into the older woman's heart . 

"Perhaps," said Lady Ann, "perhaps in time, you may come to find that marriage to Lord Davenport, or to any man truly, is endless days of monotony. It may not be nearly as devastating or as thrilling as it all seems now. Think back to all the marriages you've observed and you will know that I speak truthfully."

"I can't say that I've ever truly observed a marriage," Evelyn blurred out, then hurriedly snapped her lips shut.

An uncomfortable silence fell between the two ladies. Ann wanted so very much to press Evelyn to say more about her life before, yet Ann's intuition told her to stamp down her curiosity. 

"She must learn to trust me, rely on me. All in due time, she won't have a single secret or private thought that I will not be privy to," Ann thought to herself. "I just need to be patient."

"I cannot imagine how life could ever be monotonous with Lord Davenport," Evelyn was saying, her eyes glowing, and looked off towards some distant memory. "I cannot imagine life with him at all. Ohh.... I fear him. I dread him, yet I cannot stamp him from my mind. He behaved most outrageously towards me.... The things he said.... I should not give him another thought at all... Yet--!"

"--Your heart races and you feel giddy just thinking of how his lips felt against your skin," Lady Ann concluded for her. 

Evelyn dropped her face into her outstretched hands in shame. "Oh yes! Oh God! Oh God! Oh God, why have you made women so weak that our good judgment could be so compromised by the sight of a tall, beautiful man? I have always resented such female weakness in the penny dreadful romances. Now here I am, stepping into just such a role that I abhor."

The rain outside beat a rapid tempo against the shutters, in tune with Ann's rapid heartbeat.

"So he's kissed you?" Ann finally asked her voice barely above a whisper.

Evelyn reluctantly nodded, thinking the good Lady Ann must be shocked by the confession. But Lady Ann merely topped off Evelyn's tea cup with a reassuring smile. Once the words started flowing, it all came tumbling out and with each breath, Evelyn felt lighter and lighter till her weariness bordered on being tolerable.

Lady Ann's eyes gleamed brightly as she forced past her own emotions to offer a comforting smile. "You poor, dear girl! The fault lies not with you but in part with your youth and inexperience. A few more Seasons and you'll learn that all men are cads! No, no! You mustn't think you're at fault. Men, like his lordship, so use to having any earthly desire granted without pause, will often make a sport of young women's virtues. It is our feminine duty to guard against their advances for often we mistake their attention for love. Women are such feeble, such trusting creatures that we would happily allow our hearts to override our good judgment."

Evelyn grimaced and she touched the edge of Lady Ann's handkerchief to the tears streaming from her eyes again. "Then he has done this with others?" 

Ann inclined her head to one side, slightly, reluctantly. It was somewhere between a nod and a shake that paused midway. "I have no personal knowledge and would not think to slander his lordship. But--"

"But?" Evelyn urged. 

"Well, one does tend to... hears things...." Ann allowed her voice to trail off as though she was speaking to herself. Then she quickly shook her head. "But one must not give credence to ideal gossip--"

"Where there is smoke, there must be fire," Evelyn insisted. "Oh how foolish of me! Of course there must have been many others." 

"I speak in general terms," Ann replied carefully. She would not be safe if Lord Davenport ever learn of this slanderous conversation. Especially when Lord Davenport wasn't known to seduce any innocent girl before. "For a man, with such power and influence as he to have reached his majority without a wife---. Well he tends to develop tastes and habits that may be unusual for a young thing like you."

"I can't bring myself to think of it!" Evelyn confessed miserably. 

"Some men will and do tame their wildness once they are married," Ann assured her.

Two great droplets of tears rolled down the corner of her gleaming eyes, not out of sadness but out of remembrance of how HE had touched her.... Unconsciously, Evelyn's soft pink lips parted and she ran her tongue along the edge of her bottom lip as her face flushed at the memory. What lies within the confines of the marriage bed? she wondered. If it was anything like what she experienced in her carriage the previous night....! She swallowed tightly.

"Be wise my sweet child," said Ann, interrupting her train of thoughts. "I feel your distress, but think a moment. Could you possibly break a marriage contract without bringing down the wrath of all involved? Including your guardian, a gentleman to be reckoned with, I'm sure, if he managed such a match for you. Now think on this. Most men of his ilk will tire of his wife within a year or two of marriage, after the children arrives. There will be mistresses aplenty to fulfill his baser desires and you will be free to come and go as you like."

The rosy color drained from Evelyn's face as her lower lip trembled. "He cannot--- there's the Lord's commandments that forbids---!" Her voice broke and faded.

Clearly the image of Lord John in flagrante delicto with another woman distressed Evelyn, Ann noted with interest. So the whole desire for escape was nothing more than some theatrical, self-deceiving attempt to fight her own feelings, Ann surmised. 

"The theatrics of the virginal ingénue!" Ann thought disdainfully even as she continued to gently comfort Evelyn.

*********************************** From where he stood, Jeffrey, the footman, would hear their words clearly. He had carefully left the door of the parlor ajar just a bit after bringing their refreshments, that left ample space for him to hear all that passed between the ladies. Now he waited, his tall, thin, wiry frame completely still, with bated breath for Lady Evelyn to reveal something of the Prince's visit earlier. All the female servants below stairs were in a state since the royal carriage came and went that morning. They were sure to give him quite the treat if he could return with some bits of news. How fortunate that the Baroness arrived so shortly after the Prince's departure, for if there's one thing Jeffrey counted on, it was the feminine love for tittle-tattle.

Jeffrey could just make out the Baroness's regal profile through the crack in the door. He loved to catch a glimpse of the great lady whenever she visited the Warwick's home. She always brought with her a waft of jasmine scent and an air of sophistication. 

At one point, he felt sure that Lady Ann looked right at him leaning against the crack in the doorway, and even offered him a small wink and a secretive smile. She knew he was there! And she wasn't about to give him away! Jeffrey grinned widely. Perhaps her ladyship had taken a liking to him as well. Young Miss Mary, his mistress's sister had certainly been quite willing, one several occasions now, to give him her favors. 

Soon the news of Lady Evelyn's "secret" betrothal traveled below stairs. To the Marquis of Davenport! Jeffrey, the footman had whispered what he overheard to a passing scullery maid who ran downstairs to tell Cook, who in turn went out the servants door and spoke to her sister, the ladies' maid next door who in turn went and told her mistress. The original curiosity of Prince Edward's visit had been momentarily forgotten.

The rain had turned to just a drizzle made more miserable by the chilly winds that blew, but that did not impede the speed with which gossip travels.

When the Baroness finally decided to take her leave, the news had already reached down the avenue and spreading even further. As it were, several servants had gathered just beyond the door of the Warwick's parlor with beaming faces and bobbed curtseys when Evelyn and her new finally emerged Both ladies hardly noticed at first, as they spoke a few soft words to each other

"Best wishes for your happy news my Lady!" one of downstairs maid suddenly blurted out." I think you'll make a most beautiful bride! Much prettier than the Princess of Wales, I'm sure!"

Both genteel ladies stopped in their tracks and whirled around, towards the girl said. 

"What happy news? What do you speak of?" Ann asked quickly and sternly.

"Lady Evelyn's engagement of course!" the flushed faced servant blustered as she darted her panicked eyes back from one great lady to the other, suddenly realizing that she may have spoken out of turn. "To the Marquis of Davenport! I'm wishing you a lifetime of happiness my lady, to his lordship--"

"How--! Who did you hear this from?" Evelyn demanded. All the color drained from her face then rushed back to color her bright red to the roots of her hair. The other servants read the situation quickly and correctly and scattered. 

Lady Ann quickly placed her hands gently on Evelyn's shoulders to turn her away from the frightened servant girl. "Clearly our conversation was overheard. One must remember in quarters such as these, the walls tend to have eyes and ear." She turned towards to the red-faced, flustered maid. "Your mistress has been remiss in your training. Tell me, did you hear this from your footman or butler?"

The frightened maid's face turned several shades of red. "I mean no harm ma'am!" the maid cried out, but bowed her head under Lady Ann's stern warning look. "It was the footman mi'lady."

"There, you see!" said Ann to a flustered Evelyn. "Now you know to be on your guard around these two for their loose lips."

"But I wasn't!" the maid protested. "Honest! Jeffrey overheard you --. We were all so pleased for you---. I beg your pardon! I only meant to express--" 

"By now the news is halfway across London," Lady Ann predicted as she linked her arms through Evelyn's and headed for the front door. "I'm afraid I must go, but prepare yourself child, for the well-wishers and the curious seekers."

"I cannot face it!" Evelyn cried miserably with both misery and exhaustion. She allowed Lady Ann to hold her up. "Not even a day... I wasn't given just a day to prepare myself. Once it is known there will be no getting out of this marriage contract without scandal and disgrace, will there?"

"Chin up!" Ann commanded cheerfully. "Rarely do our plans succeed when God intend otherwise. We may yet devise a plan to your dilemma, or at least prepare your trousseau. I must confess, that I am surprised at your guardian for arranging such a match in such a manner. We are living in an enlightened age past the days of forced marriages. Who but the king has the power to command such a thing of his own children?."

Evelyn returned to her room, without a glance towards Jeffrey who bowed low to her as she passed. How she despised that thin young man with the narrow face. His eyes were handsome enough but she thought him too sly the way he always looked lustfully at the young ladies of the household whenever he thought no one saw. Evelyn thought she imagined it but a few times, she could have sworn she saw Mary in some dark alcove with him, standing too closely. She must think of that now, but she will take care not to speak when he was near! ***********************************

Lady Ann returned home, tossed aside her wet things and immediately retired to her bedchambers. Sprawled across her chaise in an alcove, a handsome, auburn-haired, young man awaited he. He was dressed only in a ruffled silk shirt, brocade blue trousers with a matching brocade blue frock coat tossed carelessly across the back of the chaise. He had been staring up at dancing shadows cast by two tall candelabras that stood on either side of the chaise, lost in thought.

"Have you been waiting long, Henry?" Lady Ann said with a flirtatious smile as she glided over to him, a vision of honey-color curls, pale coral pink skin in yards of pale green taffeta. 

The corners of Henry's wide-set green eyes crinkled as he smiled up at her. "Ah, but I expect that you have a delicious tale to tell," he replied with a mischievous curl of his thick lips.

Ann allowed him to take her hands and lightly kiss each of her fingers for a moment before combing her fingers through his thick, auburn curls.

"That I have," she replied, sitting down on the edge of the chaise with him. She moaned softly when he leaned forward and nuzzled into her ample cleaved and deftly unlaced her bodice. Her large, dark nipples bounced slightly and popped out over the top of her corset. The dress soon discarded into a pool of pale green taffeta of her feet. She pushed her shoes off.

"Tell me," he said finally, over the peak of a nipple.

"It seemed I picked an opportune time as our ingénue was in desperate need of a friend. She gladly unburdened some interesting news to me."

"What did she reveal to you? What juicy morsel of gossip can we use against her?" he asked just before taking the nipple lightly between his lips, making her gasp.

Ann released her pinned up hair into a tumble of golden, honey colored waves over them. Her hooded eyelids fluttered, when he returned his attention to her hands and sucked two of her taper fingers into his mouth, caressing the soft flesh there with his hot-wet tongue. He had such an eager tongue. She fell gracefully forward into his arms and allowed him to unhooked her undergarments, as he blew on her earlobe ever so slightly. Ann closed her eyes and forced herself not to think on how feminine and soft Henry's hands felt. She tried not to think of a set of longer, more muscular arms, a broader chest and more expert hands. 

"She is engaged to be married --to none other than our dear friend Lord Davenport!" she said woodenly

"Marriage?," Henry replied sardonically with a light chuckle. "Didn't think he went for that sort of thing. And to Lady Evelyn you say? That surprises me though I suppose it oughn't. I suppose he charmed her till she couldn't refuse him?"

"He's a proficient hunter," she agreed pulling back slightly to rid herself of the rest of her heavy undergarments until just her stockings and garter remained. "But charm had nothing to do with it as she tells it."

Henry licked his lips as grabbed a handful of her silky, thick dimpled. Henry teased the slightly saggy skin there before slapping her rounded rump. He wondered how long before the ravages of time fully claimed her hour glass shape. Lady Ann was still a great beauty, but there were already clear signs of her age in the thin lines across her forehead and down either side of her thinning lips. No doubt she fought a valiant battle again those lines with all the bottles of lotions and potions spread liberally across her vanity. Henry enjoyed the favors of a woman exceeding him in age. They tend to be so eager and grateful, he found.

"It seems he's not yet aware of his own good fortune," Ann was saying, completely unaware of Henry's line of thoughts. "Lady Evelyn's mysterious guardian had negotiated a marriage contract with Lord Davenport's father, the Duke."

"How antiquated," Henry murmured against her hair. "Though I must confess that such an arrangement is most appealing to me. Just have my father and mother select the bride and be done with the whole affair. The whole notion of a courtship, where one has to be poetic and gallant, it's so... tedious and common!"

Ann chuckled at that as she snuggled into his embrace. "Well women do like to be romanced if even just a little. I dare say the poor little thing was quite devastated by the notion of being thrown into matrimony. She's merely conflicted of course. Behind all that fussy reluctant I'm sure she is merely just being coy."

Henry had rolled her beneath him on the chaise and settled himself between her stocking clad thighs. He paused for a moment in his intended purpose and leaned back a bit.

"So, John Mallory you say?" he asked with genuine surprise as the new sunk in. 

Ann smiled slyly. "I dare you to be so familiar to his face!"

"I wouldn't dare," Henry answered back humorously. "Will you tell on me? But in all seriousness I didn't think him the sort to settle into domestic tranquility."

"Lord Davenport is a man full of surprises," Ann replied with contempt.. 

"But I suppose if the lady is as beautiful as Lady Evelyn, who could blame the chap? She is quite breath-taking I must say. I've never encountered such beauty and grace-- "

Lady Ann's whole body stiffened.

"With the exception of you my lady, of course" Henry corrected himself quickly and moved up her body again. "Your beauty is beyond compare. Davenport is a fool---"

She raise up on her elbows and raised a naked foot to his chest, firmly pushing him back. "I know what you meant!" she cut him off sharply. "My lord Davenport was quite taken with her, but this turn of events comes at no effort from his part as I've told you. Had there not been any outside intervention, I would imagine he would have dropped to a knee to her before too long. Your sex will often lose your senses over a fresh skirt. Though I suppose you all cannot be faulted for your weakness. It's how God made you."

"So will that be the end then?" Henry chuckled as he continued as he slyly took advantage of her propped up leg to finger her soft, mound below. "Our scheming put to an end before we've launched ourselves? They'll simply marry, spend most of the year in the country and make each other as miserable as the rest of the matrimonially tied lot."

Ann eased the tension in her extended leg and allowed him to come closer "Oh but there's fun to be had there too! One often grow weary of the monotony of marriage. One may and often do look elsewhere for satisfaction. I know something about that, after all. All the best country estates are fraught with intrigue of that sort. Marriage are rarely happy and it is often times just a brief pause in a story!"





Duplicity Ch. 04



Lady Ann spread her thighs and reached down to stroke the taunt outline of Henry's manhood over his trousers and felt his excitement grow. She fought to pushed another comparison out of her mind. "Now show me how you've missed me!"

Henry swallowed past the lump in his throat as she caressed him and he couldn't resist grabbing a hold of her breasts.. "Shall I ruined her for him then? Soil her innocence so he's forced to abandon her to keep his honor?" He drew his breath sharply when her fingers gripped him. 

"You shall play a part," Ann purred up into his ear. "But I want him to suffer without the deed to be traced back to you or me. So they must marry and quickly." 

"I'm afraid I don't understand? You want him married to the one he threw you over for---."

Lady Ann abruptly sat up and pushed him away. She crossed the expanse of her bedchamber to her dressing table in just gartered silk stockings and her tumbling honey-colored hair to hide her nakedness. Henry groaned in frustration as he watched her movements, so graceful and purposeful, like a cat. She fumble through all the varying shaped bottles and jars on her vanity, before finding an ornate box, and retrieved a cigarillo. 

"Come back!" he implored with a theatrical groan in frustration.

Ann didn't reply as she lit the cigarillo and seductively arched her long neck to expel a puff of smoke. She leveled her cat-like hazel eyes on him again. "I've never suffered any man to play me for a fool, Henry. Not my husband. Not any of my lovers. I intend to play the long game, " Ann said softly, with stony determination. "He will marry Evelyn and tie the noose of matrimony tightly so there's no escape. Then I will use the very object of his love against him!"

Henry felt a delightful shiver run up his spin at the throaty sound of her voice. Yet he did not feel convinced by her words. "Unless you intend to turn his bride into a nagging shrew I don't see how that goal can be accomplished. Even so, a man would simply pack his wife off to the country to look after the children and carry on as he pleases. You know that. There's not much a woman could do in effecting the lives of men, even in marriage."

"You'd like to believe so wouldn't you?" Lady Ann replied archly as she blew smoke out one side of her pursed lips. "Allow me to enlighten you my dear boy. Never underestimate the power of women. Especially if you have the misfortune to fall in love with one. The greatest of men have been brought down by a weakly made woman simply because he loved her. There are many ways she may destroy your mind and wreck havoc without you even knowing it."

Henry laced his fingers behind his head and studied her, lazily, still unconvinced. "Not John Mallory surely! I doubt he is capable of any frailty, especially love. He never flusters. Doubt he broke a sweat during the whole bloody campaign against the Prussians. A man like that, was forged by sterner stuff that would take more than feminine wiles to break."

"Ah but the stronger, more unyielding a man may be, the harder he will break!" Lady Ann retorted. "No, dear boy John Mallory is not infallible as he would have the world believe. He is a man forged of his past and bears the scars both physically and hidden."

"What scars? Oh do tell!"

Ann smiled enigmatically. "Some secrets I must keep, even from you, for now. Prove yourself useful and you shall be rewarded with my trust."

"What's to be my purpose then?" 

"Plenty," she replied biting down on the end of the cigarillo, and sucked puffs of smoke from it. 

"When shall we act?" he pressed further.

Ann chuckled and shook her head. "Patience dear boy! You see, that's the power of women you see. First we watch. We observe. We use the inherent weakness of our foes against them and move them as we like, like so many pieces on a chessboard. The key lies in understanding their motivations and weaknesses."

Henry shrugged and conceded the point. He got up from the chaise and went to take her in his arms again. "Fine. You shall play your feminine wily games. But later! Enough scheming for now. I'm bored with it. I've wait for you all afternoon and will claim my reward for my patience."

Lady Ann suddenly narrowed her eyes suspiciously as she leaned back, away from him to gaze deep into his green eyes. "What has he done to garner your disdain? What do you hope to gain from my plans?""

He wrapped his arm tightly around her and nuzzled her neck, the way he knew she liked. "On the one hand, I should thank him for freeing your attentions," he said between kisses. " These last few weeks have been divine with you my dear. One the other, he's won quite a sum from me at the card table."

"You hate him because he bested you at cards?"

"Rather ruthlessly, when he deign to suffer my company!" Henry quipped. The corner of his mischievous green eyes crinkled as he smiled. He stepped back to shed his shirt and unfasten his trousers.

"I don't hate him, my sweet.," Henry confessed light-heartedly as he grabbed her with one hand and held out his erection with the other. " As I see it, it's quite unjust how God has given him with both hands. He's taller, far better titled and a better horseman than I. Society seems to move to the tempo he dictates and he's insufferably arrogant about it. Women desire him and men emulate him. Even the Whigs and Tories will pause to hear him speak and they never listen to anybody. Now he's to have the most desired debutant of this season? How is such a man tolerable? It's quite unthinkable-- no, it's my duty to see him humbled, don't you think? All in the name of fairness and restoring balance."

Lady Ann allowed Henry to draw her to him once more. She signed when he kissed the hollow of her neck, then drew in her breath sharply when he pushed up into her. 

"Quite so," she thought ruefully as she clung to his shoulders to meet his urgent thrusts. "Lord John had indeed been blessed with abundance in every conceivable way."

************************************ As Lady Ann predicted, Evelyn had a sudden flood of visitors. Invitations to teas, picnics, theatre boxes and suppers poured in.. They were from the Countess this or the Duchess that. All the paragons of Society came calling to offer her their friendship and with more urgency than before to know the young woman who captured Lord Davenport's heart where so many had failed so miserably before. 

There was no question that the young lady was beautiful enough to be worthy of a Romney portrait, but who was she? Who were her people that she should marry the heir of the Duke of Northumberland? Everyone who was anyone had to know!

Evelyn tried to politely discourage their probing. Still they came day after day to sit, drink tea, play cards and probe for every detail of Evelyn's betrothal. Evelyn remained stoically silent, but this time the curious would not be denied. So when Evelyn sputtered for a response, her new friend, Lady Ann, came to the rescue. 

"Why, they were spoke for each other since Lady Evelyn was a child. Evelyn returned from abroad since she came of age so they may marry. Certainly, you've all known of this?" Lady Ann lied cleverly to the milieu, to Evelyn's look of relief and gratitude.

"Why yes!" Lady Warwick was quick to agree. "We thought it was common knowledge!"

No one inquired further after that. Later Ann explained it thusly to Evelyn: "None who believe herself to be the height of fashion and the pinnacle of her society will willingly admit she's not privy to all the secrets of her milieu. They can do nothing but pretend they've all known this all along."

Sure enough, it became generally accepted that Lady Evelyn had always been betrothed to Lord Davenport, as Lady Ann knew it would be. 

Still the ladies came to the Warwick's in anticipation of Lord Davenport. They all wanted to be there to bear witness when he shed his proud visage when he called on his intended bride! How thrilling they all agreed, to finally witness the great, self-possessed Lord John blush and simper as he utter words of love to Evelyn. All the ladies conjectured that he would be marvelous at reciting poems and sonnets as he was at everything else! So for a few hours each day the Warwick's parlor was clustered with ladies, nibbling on cakes and sipping tea, as they anxiously awaited Lord John's arrival. 

Lord Davenport, did not come!

Lady Warwick wavered between elation over her new-found popularity and taking advantage of all the invitations Evelyn declined, to despairing the lack of even a note from Lord Davenport. She managed to learn of his favorite brand of Scotch and ordered her cook to only prepare his favorite foods. Her impatience was mounting though, and became more apparent with each passing day. She took to coming up with more and more outlandish reasons for why he was yet again detained. 

Lady Ann again came to the rescue, when she informed all who queried that it was a busy time for the peerage, what with the question of reform coming before Parliament. Most of the ladies had no interest in the particulars of what men did, but they accepted that there might be more pressing matters of governance that may put a hold on romance. That, however, did not prevent them from returning home to grumble about the lack of Lord Davenport's sighting yet again.

In private the Lady Warwick wringed her hands and despairingly wondered out loud why he hasn't called on them, or even set an proxy. Surely he must formally propose to Evelyn, or make some form of gesture to his deep affections. There were matters of grave importance to be discussed that even a secretary would do. There's an engagement dinner to plan and even the wedding date to be set! More importantly, Lady Warwick thought, if his lordship became a regular at her townhome, no one could ever doubt her position in society ever again.

"He must come?" Lady Warwick said to Evelyn yet again. "As man of his station ought to bestow some token of affection to his bride to be. Has he sent no word to you? No gifts at all?" 

The household was gathered in the parlor that afternoon, all with the exception of the Earl of course. Mary and Regina darted glances at Evelyn sitting in a corner, her dark head bent over a book. 

"How can he not!" Lady Warwick wondered rhetorically. "Perhaps he called while we were out?" She asked the butler to check for Lord Davenport's calling card. The butler shook his head, no. His lordship hadn't been by.

"My dear Evelyn," Mary said at last. "Perhaps you ought to invite him?"

"Heavens!" exclaimed Regina. "Would that be proper? Surely he must call on her!"

Both girls turned to their older sister, who was just as at a loss to the proper. "Maybe you should send him a note?" she finally suggested to Evelyn.

Evelyn closed her book and stood up from her seat. "I beg your pardon, but I think I'll visit with Lady Ann this evening. She's unwell and I thought to cheer her with a visit."

If there was one thing that her marriage would afford her was an escape from the insufferable Warwick's household, Evelyn thought with disgust as she quickly left the room. All they ever cared about was where they stood in society. Who ought they be seen with. Which invitations did they receive just so that they could return home later and tear apart their friends and acquaintances as surely as they were savaged by them. It was all meaningless, Evelyn thought with a frustrated growl. 

Her maid, Martha, bless the girl, quickly helped her find her hat and cape. If she didn't get out of that house immediately, Evelyn thought she would claw through her own skin. The constantly scrutiny and probing questions was more than she could take. All of which was made worse by her own lingering doubts over Lord Davenport or the particulars of marriage itself. Thankfully there was Lady Ann or Evelyn thought she would burst from all the indescribable emotions churning in her bosom.

Only Lady Ann was privy to how much Evelyn both dreaded and longed to see Lord Davenport's tall, looming figure. There were moments when she thought she saw him in the streets, or at theatre or across a ballroom. Her heart would jump to her throat and she would forget to breath until the gentleman turned and reveal himself to be someone else entirely. She soon discovered there was a fair number of tall, handsome men with black hair and blue eyes residing in London. None were quite as handsome, or had his gravitas. 

Why has he stayed away? He, along with the rest of London, must have learned of their betrothal by now. Would he not come to claim her? Then the memory of their last meeting would flood her thoughts and Evelyn would inevitably blush with mortification. Perhaps he still thought her wanton and unworthy of marriage. Somehow that thought was devastating to her.

That afternoon, Evelyn found Ann tucked into her enormous bed with most of her head and part of her face beneath a cap. She beckoned for Evelyn to take a chair set beside her bed and held the younger girl's hands in her own.

"It's these impossible headaches I often get," she explained to Evelyn in a faint voice. "I shall be better by and by. Tell me, what troubles you child?"

"You are so good to ask after me," Evelyn said. "I could not have asked for a better friend in this trying time."

Lady Ann's thin pale lips curled into her customary warm smile. "Oh my honey, I'm shan't have you accuse me of saintliness when all I've done is no more than what any friend would do! How are you, really?"

"I feel as though time has stopped," Evelyn admitted. "I find myself laughing and crying all at once. Nothing interests me. Everything is irritating. I'm uncertain whether to be glad or horrified. Lady Warwick looks to me for answers, but I have none to give her. I do not know Lord Davenport's mind. I barely know my own. It's maddeningly how I could long to see him again and yet dread the moment when he finally comes to claim me. I recoil whenever his name is brought up and feel physically ill. Yet I long to hear more. Why hasn't he come? I've never felt such torment that feels as though my insides are being ripped to shreds!!"

Lady Ann smiled enigmatically and closed her eyes to hide her own thoughts at Evelyn's confession. "There's another reason I sent for you today, aside from the desire to see your lovely face again. I have made inquiries as you have asked. It would appear that your Lord Davenport is not in London." 

"Not in London?" Evelyn exclaimed as her eyes flooded with inexplicable tears. "Gone? What does this mean? Am I free then?" 

Lady Ann reached out and cupped Evelyn's chin to turn the girl's beautiful, tormented face towards her own. "He left rather abruptly my sources tell me, but he is not gone in the way you're imagining. I don't know more than that, but it may be a --- a rather private matter."

Seeing Evelyn's blank look, Ann chose her works carefully. She had only heard that Lord Davenport had been called away on an urgent matter concerning some interests of his in shipping. But with enough ingenuity, she could cast just enough doubt that Evelyn would be driven mad by it. "I have no personal knowledge of your Lord Davenport's habits. What I do know of men of the peerage, it would not be so unusual if he had... personal matters to settle when his marriage bans are read, to prevent complications from arising later. Of course marriage itself would not keep him from having-- dalliances he'd rather keep secret. Every wife would be well served to be understanding of such things."

The message slowly sunk in from the way Evelyn's face suddenly became emotionless as she stared, blankly, unseeing, into the distance. For the first time Ann noticed the dark circles under Evelyn's slightly sunken eyes and her face was deathly pale. 

Ann pointed to a large leather bound volume on a table beside her. "Will you read to me my child? Let's turn our minds to more pleasant matters." 

It was dark out, and the rain had yet again turned into a misty drizzle when Lady Ann shut her eyes and her breathing became slow and steady. Evelyn got up and quietly left the room. 

As soon as the latch in the door shut, and Evelyn's footfall faded away, Ann pounced, quickly and quietly off her bed. She ducked behind a window curtain to watch Evelyn exit the house and climb into her waiting carriage.

Evelyn dreaded privacy of her carriage, where she knew her composure would crumble, and she would be confronted with all that she had learned from Ann.

Suddenly, Evelyn was jolted from her misery by a terrifying shriek, a shrill neigh from the horses, as her carriage came to a jolting halt! The impact threw her forward onto her hands and knees! As she tried to crawl back up again, the carriage lurched forth again. She could feel the horses bucking and bolting against the carriage over their terrified cries. The entire box was rocking back and forth!

What has happened?

Could the horses have been simply spooked, but surely the coachman would reign them in and calm them.

She could not hear the coachman's voice!

Evelyn tried once more to climb to her feet. She reached out to grab ahold of something, anything, to steady herself when the carriage door was ripped open, bringing forth a gust of cold night air and rain! 

"Help--!' she tried to cry out. 

A large cold, wet hand clasped over her mouth and jerked her against a damp, foul smelling, rough figure. Male figure! She couldn't see him, but his foul breath made her eyes water more than even his pungent body odor as his huge, hulking figure forced her to the ground. And he was whispering, wet and lustfully: "Pretty, pretty!" in Evelyn's ear. 

Evelyn gasped and pushed hard against the immovable creature when his cold slithering tongue touched her and licked her from her chin to her temple. It was intolerable that this creature was violating her so! There was no time for her to register fear. No time to gather her wits. Just act! She bite down on the clammy, leathery hand! Hard! 

Her assailant cried out a high-pitched shrieking cry but he held her firmly to him. 

"He means to kill me!" she thought wildly and uttered a blood curling scream. She was lost! 

At that moment, the carriage door flew open again and Evelyn once more felt the cold, wet air. One moment the large reeking body was pressing down on her, the next moment he gave an angry cry and tumbled backwards as he was yanked from her! 

It seemed as though the world was in an uproar! Evelyn squinted her eyes to the blustery wet rain and saw the edge of a pair of worn and dirty boots kicking out as he was dragged out of the carriage door. The carriage lurched again and Evelyn let out a shriek as she pitched forward once more; face first into the opposite bench. Even with the leather padding she felt her forehead strike the hard frame beneath. Her mouth flooded with a minerally taste and wetness dribbled down her chin. Then pain in her mouth. She must have bitten the inside of her mouth.

Just outside the carriage, there were shouts of anger and fear, and the dull thud of fist striking skin again and again.

And then a terrifying guttural cry, followed by a terrible crashing sound!

Evelyn blinked rapidly, stunned by the blow to her head. Her head felt heavy and her eyes refused to focus. 

Gentler hands reached around her shoulders now. A familiar kind face, full of concern was speaking to her. "Are you badly hurt?"

Evelyn smiled weakly at the familiar deep masculine voice. Where has she heard it before. Her head felt odd and her body refused to move. Everything seemed to whirl and sway around her. She was being lifted and carried. When Evelyn could see again she thought she saw the pale and somber face of Lord John Mallory, Marquis of Davenport hovering over her before it all turned to darkness.




Duplicity Ch. 04



**********************************

Lady Ann was in a rage as she paced the floor of her bedchamber. Her night dress bellowing behind her; her long curls hung wildly around her shoulders.

"I was very specific with my instructions!" she hissed violently over the bowed figure of Henry. He sat once more on the chaise, with this elbowed propped on his knees and his hands cupped over his face. Half of his hunched figure was cast in shadows in the dark chambers, but Ann could still see how blood-shot his eyes peeking through his fingers by the pale orange glow the candelabras.

"The man was to attack her once her carriage neared the park, away from people so no one could interfere.! Then YOU were suppose to be there to rescue her!" 

"The lout was carried away, he acted too quickly!" Henry mumbled miserably into his palms. "By the time I got there John and Philip Mallory were already on him. Why were they there?! I thought you said Davenport wasn't even in London!"

"My sources had him traveling to his country seat. Oh the stupid lout!" Ann almost shouted. "He has only himself to blame for his sorry fate. Is he quite dead then?"

"Quite. I thought to send his family a pound or two."

"No!" she shouted. "We shan't involve ourselves now or the deed will be traced back to us. Not when it was not our intent for anyone to be hurt. He acted outside my instructions, therefore his unfortunate end is his own doing. You did make clear to him that he to stop the carriage then receive a few blows from you?"

Henry jerked his head in a nod.

"Being struck by that cart was his own fault. He acted of his own accord. We are blameless in his death!" 

"If only he had waited--" Henry moaned "It could not be our fault that Davenport attacked the poor sod and forced the knave to run out into the path of a brick cart. It was so terrible to the whole content of the cart topple over and bury him like that. I thought I would be sick!"

"Had he not, Davenport may very well have killed him anyway," Ann reasoned. "Where is Evelyn now? Was she terribly hurt?"

"I entered the fray as a crowd was gathering then slipped away again before I could be detected. I dared not stay longer to discover more."

Ann reasoned to herself as she looked down at her trembling hands. "No one was intended to be hurt. I wanted Henry to rescue her. Ingratiate you to her so that she falls in love with Henry perhaps. It would have bruised John Mallory's ego for his intended bride to love another man. Let him feel the jealousy he evoked in others. That was all! That was all!"

Yet she uttered a silent prayer for God's forgiveness.

"I could not see as it was dark and they bore her away immediately. Should Davenport find out that our hands were behind this?" Henry groaned miserably, almost to himself as his green eyes opened wide with terror. "He might kill me. They say he fought through seven assassins, alone!"

"It was two at the last telling," Lady Ann quipped humorlessly. 

The dubious pair fell silent for a time, each lost deep in thought. Ann watched the candle flame dance, casting long dark shadows against the walls, that she imaged may soon turn into demon shapes to drag her down to hell. She shuddered at the thought!

"I shall visit with her!" Ann declared, her voice trembling.

Henry dragged his hands over his miserable, stubble face. "What are you planning?" he asked glumly. 

"We leave it all to Fate... for now," she replied as she rang the bell for her maid.

*************** Evelyn slept fitfully. She dreamt she was swimming a sea of murk. She was pushing her arms out but her arms refused to move. She tried to turn her head but her head won't budge. Yet she could hear voices speaking all around her, there voices barely above a whisper and indecipherable. 

Through the murk she thought she saw a veiled feminine figure hovering over her, and realized it was a recurring memory from her childhood. Dark blue eyes, so like her own, peered down at her through thick, dark, netting so lovingly.

"Mother!" Evelyn wanted to cry out, but her lips wouldn't move. Instead her heart weep when the figure faded into the murkiness again.

************************************** When Evelyn woke up, the first thing she was a dull, throbbing pain weighing down her skull. She had to catch her breath for a moment to allow the pain to subside. Then she sat up---

--in an enormous, unfamiliar bed! The sheets were made of the softest cotton and dark, rich silk damask hung from the canopied bed. She could see that this deep chamber, with vaulted ceilings was richly, tastefully furnished and smelled faintly of cider. Her clothes had been removed and she now wore a sleeping gown. Before Evelyn could register all of this, she caught sight of a rosy and pleasant faced woman rushing to her bedside.

"There, there!" the strange woman said as she came to prop up the pillows behind Evelyn's back . "Rest dear. There's no need to fret. You're safe here."

"Where is here?" Evelyn asked, mildly curious but unafraid. The other woman, with light brown eyes and brown hair pulled into a chignon, seemed harmless enough. There was something familiar about her handsome nose and strong jaw line. Her clothes were rather plain, her manner unguarded, but she was no servant either. Evelyn thought she rather liked her hostess's strong ruddy face and kind brown eyes. 

"I am Mrs. Charlotte Fields, but I insist you call me Charlotte as we are to be family. And you, Lady Evelyn, are among friends," came the reply. "What a fright you must have received last night. I suppose one must always be careful in town, as dangers lurk anywhere. How fortunate that you weren't gravely injured."

Evelyn raised a hand and touched her damp and clammy forehead and gingerly felt a small bump there. Memories of what had happened came back to her and Evelyn swallowed past a lump in her throat. Yes, it was most fortunate that she didn't suffer a greater injury. 

"I am grateful for your kindness," she said to Charlotte, still looking worryingly at her. "I must have word sent to my hosts, the Warwicks, lest they should worry--" Just as Evelyn tried to sit up, all her energy sapped from her and she was forced to lie back again.

"You've had quite the shock," Charlotte said kindly as she helped Evelyn settle back into bed again. "You must still be weak from the fever then. Do try to rest some more. I'll have a clear broth sent up."

Before Evelyn could open her lips to speak, a knock on the closed chamber door stopped her short. Charlotte rushed over to admit a tall, slender young gentleman, dressed in a dark brown coat and trousers. Charlotte nodded meaningfully to him and allowed him to enter. It was Philip Mallory and Evelyn realized then why Charlotte looked so familiar!

"Thank God, Lady Evelyn!' Philip said with deep concern and relief. "I'm happy to see you rested and looking better this morning. My sister, Charlotte, is the most diligent nurse."

"Then you are my savior?" Evelyn said. Her eyes clouded with tears of joy and relief as she held out her hand to him. How could she have ever thought this man unremarkable, Evelyn thought with a pang of guilt. "How could I ever thank you--!"

Philip flushed deeply and held up a hand to stop her. "There's no need for thanks as I shall soon call you cousin."

"Then you've heard," Evelyn replied thickly. There were so many thoughts that crossed her mind that Evelyn felt quite tired from it all. She sank back against the plush pillows.

"Quite so! " said Charlotte as she sat down on the bed by Evelyn and looked up at Philip. "We were all so delighted to hear that Cousin John will at last be wed. I do wish we were meeting under better circumstances--"

"And I must disabuse any notion you may have over my heroism," Philip said. "You see it was John who heard your cries and, as Providence would have it, came to your rescue, not I." 

"BOTH of you," Charlotte corrected gently as she smiled warmly at her brother. "Thank God, John and Philip were both on hand for the daring rescue. It was fortuitous that they came upon you just as the lout entered your carriage and they were able to fight him off before he could carry out his ill intent!"

"I beg your pardon, Lady Evelyn,' Philip said then when he recognized the look of bewilderment on Evelyn's face. "We don't mean to tire you or distress you."

Evelyn had touched the back of one hand to her flushed cheek wearily. "I am grateful -- I do hope I haven't inconvenienced you," she replied weakly. "It is most unusual to be meeting like this."

"No matter, I'm happy to meet you at last," Charlotte said with such a warm smile, Evelyn could not doubt her sincerity. "You must stay here with us as this is to be your home soon enough. Let me care for you now as a dear sister as I love John no less than my own brother."

Suddenly, realization dawned on Evelyn. "Am I in Lord Davenport's residence then?"

Charlotte looked at her, puzzled. "Good heavens, you must call him John now," she said with a bewildered chuckle. "And yes, we are in his home. John has always been so kind to invite Philip and I and all our families to put up here when we are in town. My husband prefer to keep to our home in the country, but I cannot resist these visit during the Season." 

Evelyn attempted a smile at the kind woman but her lips quivered instead and she closed her eyes.

"It's all rather incredible," Charlotte said to her brother when they left Evelyn to rest. "To learn of John's sudden betrothal through strangers. Then to have his bride attacked so. It's all quite extraordinary."

Philip signed, knitted his brows as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. "I must say that the attack on Lady Evelyn's person was most troubling. More troubling still that the Warwick's would allow her, a young lady, to be out alone on a dark, rainy night."

"I think it quite right that John had her brought here," Charlotte agreed, showing her distress that she had kept hidden from Evelyn. "I cannot think what might have happened had you two not been there. Will further inquires be made of the matter?"

"John and I have sent men out to inquire about that beastly creature. It seems his tragic life had been marred by drink and unsavory company. There's no family to speak of, and we believe he acted alone and on impulse. Of course more would have been made of the matter, had the creature lived or if Evelyn had been--" Philip couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence as his face flushed with emotion.

Charlotte let out a sharp breath and crossed herself. "Thank God she was saved from such a...an... Unspeakable fate. I cannot help but hold Countess Warwick accountable somehow."

"Many do," Philip replied grimly.

"What of John? Where had he been since rushing out after bringing her last night? He ought to be here to sit with her. She's to be his wife after all."

Philip's shoulders sagged under the weight of the thoughts that crossed his mind then. He kept his tone even and light for his sister's benefit when he finally did speak. "He spent the night in his rooms at the club. I doubt he will want Lady Evelyn to return to the Warwick's now. In which case, he would not stay here while they remain unwed."

"Nonsense!" Charlotte exclaimed. "With all of us here, it could not be seen as improper. And now that she is here with us, we must see to the wedding! I've longed for the day to see Cousin John wed, you know! Ever since---"

Philip grimaced and hurried said. "It's best this way really. He'd rather not be here--"

Charlotte stuck her hands on her hips and squared up her shoulders at her larger, taller brother and gave him a stern look that brooked no arguments. "Philip Mallory, I can sense when someone is hiding something from me. What is Cousin John up to? What's happened that you are keeping from me."

"It's all rather difficult to explain--"

"Do try."

Philip was still hesitant. "Well, you know John. He hates to be forced to do anything. It's all--- well, you can image a grown man being told by his own father who he ought to marry and then have her just be shoved before him--"

"Heavens! How could he possibly be oppose? She's an angel! And it's his own fault for waiting as long as he had. He will not back out now? Not when I've already put forth all the planning!"

"Reluctant is not the same as being opposed," Philip assured her. "As it were, he learned of his own engagement at the same time as I did, if you could believe that. Pretty much in the same matter as you had. It all rather seemed like idle gossip at first until a confirmation letter came from his father."

Charlotte shook her head slowly in disbelief. "I had thought it was a love match. To see her beauty and grace, it's hard to think otherwise. Such a regal mien in light of all she had suffered."

"You are right that Evelyn has many fine qualities to be admired," Philip agreed as he looked longingly past his sister towards Evelyn's chamber door. "I dare say had Uncle secured Athena for John as his bride, John wouldn't like her any better," he quipped, though humorlessly

"This war between father and son surely must end!" Charlotte said with a click of her tongue. "John can be so stubborn! After all these years. Clara is long gone--"

At the mention of that forbidden name, Philip grimaced and nervously glanced around him. Charlotte puffed out her cheeks impatiently at him and went on. "Well, surely he could find forgiveness in his heart by now. This is a new day. New beginnings. A man without a wife is but half a man. She will be good for him if he will let her be. You must help him, Philip. Help him find happiness with her. If you give her your friendship and approval, I know whatever reluctance he may have will disappear. There's no one he trusts more than you."

"I will do all that I can, " Philip promised, gravely and sincerely.

************************************** The small bump on Evelyn quickly faded. Even the memory of her attack soon seemed nothing more than a bad dream. At Philip and Charlotte's insistence, Evelyn remained at Lord Davenport's magnificent home. Martha, along with the rest of her things at the Warwick's were sent for. 

Lady Warwick came to see her once, and spent an afternoon full of tearful regrets. Soon after Lady Warwick disappeared from London after one too many cold glares and whispers at her expense. Even her more ardent friends, who had overlooked her many faux pas, couldn't help echo the grumblings over her neglectful guardianship. Why had she permitted Evelyn, a young woman, to venture out alone at night attended by only an elderly coachman? Evelyn found herself coming to the Lady Warwick ' defense but the strict rules of society could not be ignored without repercussion. 

Life under Lord Davenport's roof was quite pleasant and peaceful. Charlotte was eager to see to Evelyn's every comfort. She took extra care to show Evelyn every part of the house and made it quite clear she already saw Evelyn as it's mistress. Charlotte never failed to open every sentence with "When this is all yours."

Philip was sweet to her, a bit shy and aloof at times. He too was on hand to fulfill any request Evelyn made, which often was simply to tell her more about her future husband.

Lady Ann came to visit often and Evelyn was sorry to detect a distinct chill there. Luckily neither women were openly hostile. Charlotte never spoke out against Lady Ann, and Ann seemed perfectly comfortable to ignore her too. Evelyn put it to their difference to the natural competitiveness of women and thought little of it. 

Being in his house, Evelyn's mind was even more occupied by its missing master. How odd to be in his home, admiring his things and eating at his table without a glimpse or a word from him. Philip apologized profusely and assured Evelyn that business and government matters kept him away. He assured her that Lord Davenport, as Evelyn insisted on calling him much to Charlotte's chagrin, asked after her health constantly. 

Evelyn allowed Charlotte to take her through each room and recite to her the history of every portrait and painting they passed. The great mansion was solidly built and, tastefully furnished and decorated throughout with generations of Mallory family mementos throughout. As hard as Evelyn tried she could not see Lord Davenport's imprints on any part of the house. She imaged that his own effects lies behind the forebodingly closed doors of his study or behind the firmly shut double door to his bedchamber at the end of the long corridor opposite her own rooms. She couldn't bring herself to breach those barriers to his privacy as great as temptation tugged on her. 

Many times Evelyn found herself pausing as she headed to bed, just standing and staring at the dark, heavy doors to his bed chambers. Was he there now? Had he returned without her notice? Was he standing on the other side of those doors? Did he know she was there, and was even now staring at it as she was, like a great beast that sense the presence of his prey? Suddenly the footfall of an approaching chambermaid would startle Evelyn and send her rushing back to her own rooms her heart pounding loudly in her ears. 

Sleep was rather difficult for Evelyn, under HIS roof, in his home. She spent many restless nights tossing and turning fitfully. All her senses were alert to every creak, every pop in the dead of night. Evelyn lost track of how many nights she had spent thusly, before exhaustion claimed her. 

As she hovered between sleep and consciousness one evening, when she could no longer keep her own weariness at bay, a tall, shadowy, masculine figure quietly slipped into her room. Somehow she knew it was him. She heard him clear his throat and exhale deeply in that velvety baritone voice. His presence loomed large and his clean, earthy, masculine scent permeated the room. 

The minutes ticked by. 

She could hear an increase in the tempo of his breathing when he finally approached her bed. The bed beside her dipped under his weight. 

An eternity passed. 

Finally a gentle hand tenderly caressed the curve of her face, before traveling lower to rest on a supple breast. His fingers gripped her. Slowly, so achingly slowly, kneading her flesh. 

Was she awake now or was she falling further and further into a murky dream state where she couldn't move a muscle or even utter a word? 

She felt the air change when he rose over her. The bed dipped again when he swung his legs over hers to straddle her inert body. He brought up his other hand and pushed through the neckline of her nightgown till his large warm hands cupped her naked breasts. Evelyn's breath caught in her throat and she moaned with the rhythm of his avid ministration. Her skin tingled and screamed in delicious agony, yet she couldn't move at all. 

His heavy weight sank down over her when his face lowered to hers and soft lips kissed hers... so tenderly. She heard him sigh again as his stubble covered chin nuzzled against her. The kiss lingered, then trailed down her chin to her neck. He was tracing the lines of her neck with the tip of his tongue. Softly. So achingly softly. 

The bed beneath her liquefied and she was sinking into the thick, creamy murkiness as he worked her breasts. His mouth found its way between her orbs and licked her hardened tips. His hands were so firm. So hard. His tongue so achingly soft and gentle. He had ignited a flame within her that sent fire and chills coursing through her veins. She moaned as the indescribably feeling washed over her, urging her onward towards... she knows not what! She didn't want to believe that this was real, and yet she knew she would cry had she open her eyes to find that it was all a dream. 

"Oh!" she heard herself moan in a husky, desperate voice, barely above a whisper. 




Duplicity Ch. 04



"Hush," he whispered against a hardened nipple before taking a plump mound into his mouth and sucked, hard!

Evelyn moaned, in anguish and in pleasure. It was hard to distinguish the feelings. Hardness. Softness. Pain. Pleasure. It all became one and the same. His mouth was drawing a tingling sensation from her that stole her sanity. She moaned again. It was more of a whimpering cry. She wanted him to stop! She needed him to continue! 

He sucked his way to the tip of her nipple and released it with a flick. Evelyn moaned again to be so suddenly abandoned. He returned to kissing her again, hard! His mouth and his hands were all over her! She barely felt her gown being raised over her naked hips. He kissed the underside of her perky breast and worked his way down, lower, lower. 

Evelyn's back arched! Mouth wide open but she couldn't utter a sound! She had forgotten how to breathe! 

His mouth! 

His tongue!.....

Her eyes remained squeezed firmly shut. She could feel, taste nothing but the mounting sensations he was forcing from her as his tongue licked and plundered her in tune to the rocking of his body against her thighs. 

He held her firmly against the bed as he rocked back a bit, then gently licked her again. Once. Twice. Then he captured her in his mouth, hard! She was falling! She was soaring! Tears ran down the corners of her eyes from the tides of pleasure being ripped from her.

It was too much -- this flood of sensations coursing through her that reduced her to a gasping, thrashing creature, mindless of anything but what he was doing to her! Without her even realizing she was kicking her long, slender legs out, but he held her thighs firmly apart against his hot, open mouth. There was little to do but to surrender to him.

"My lord! Oh my Lord Davenport!" she cried with her release.

When reason returned, and her eyes finally snap open, she knew she was alone again. Yet his faint heady scent, mingled with her own musk hung heavy in the air. It was as though her entire universe was cooling after a raging fire, in tune with the rapid slowing of her own thundering heart beat. The embers still smoldered, but it was all growing cold in the darkness. 

Evelyn cried softly, soundlessly to be so abandoned. 

His tongue had left a wet trail over her body. She shivered as it cooled and and dried on her feverish skin. She rolled over on her side and pulled a crumpled sheet over her shivering, exhausted body. 

Somewhere a clock chimed, followed by an echo of other dings through the sleeping house. 

Wide awake now, Evelyn gingerly reached down to where her gown had bunched around her bare hips to where that place between her legs. Her flesh felt hot, tender, swollen, and slick with a thick wetness. 

She had never felt so much thick wetness there before!

"It could not have been a dream," she whispered through her tears against the sweat-drenched sheets. 

The vast, dark corridors yawned before Evelyn as she padded, barefoot from her room. She wore nothing but her night dress, still slightly damp and a long shawl over her shoulders to keep her from the chilly night air. The only sound she heard was the small rhythmic beating of her heart and the occasional pop in the skeletons of the silent house. 

Everyone was sleeping.

Except a small glow emanated from the stairwell. It came from the landing just below. 

"Turn back!" a voice said urgently in Evelyn's mind. 

She couldn't turn back.

Her legs moved of their own accord towards the expansive carved stairwell where a monstrously large chandelier hung. The tiny crystals sparked from the light below, like tiny eyes watching her. She swallowed around the tightness in her throat and followed the light to the slightly ajar door to the study that had never been opened before.. 

"Steady your foolish heart," Evelyn said to herself as she pressed a hand over her chest as she approached. Part of her hoped that the room would be empty, that a servant had careless left a candle burning there. But the tingling between her thighs betrayed her desire to find HIM there. Would he welcome her, after leaving her so abruptly in her bed? 

Evelyn gave the door a gentle shove, and thanked the well-oiled hinges for not betraying her presence just yet. 

The first thing she saw was a great, dark paneled room, much like the rest of the house, with frescoes decorating the vaulted ceilings that she could barely make out in the dimness. A small fire burned in the great stone fireplace, illuminating, with the help of several candlesticks, an enormous carved wooden desk covered with leather bound ledgers and books and piles of papers. She barely took in a large free standing globe and the walls of books before she saw him. 

Lord Davenport was casually sprawled out in a high-backed chair behind the desk. He was reading some documents while nibbling on the end of a quill. He had no jacket, his white shirt was opened at the neck and his sleeves carelessly pushed up to his elbows, propped on the armrests. Straight black hair slightly tousled over furrowed brow deep in concentration. Evelyn had never seen him in such a state of undress. Yet he never looked more beautiful, or more dangerous, to her than at that moment. 

His chiseled face was partially hidden by the documents he held before him, but she could see his dark scowl, in deep concentration. He appeared carved out of stone, so immobile he appeared, except for when his lips curved over the end of the quill. Those lips, those same lips that had sent her towards the heavens mere hours ago.

Evelyn stood rooted at the doorway, unsure if she ought to disturb him, but she could not turn back. Just the sight of him was enough to turn her insides to mush. 

"Come in Evelyn," he said finally, without looking up. His deep voice, cadenced with velvety timbres, cut through the silence and reverberated through the hollow chamber like a clap of thunder. Evelyn's heart leap to her throat and her own heartbeat pounded loudly in her ears. 

Evelyn took in his masculine features and noble mien as she envisioned him crawling down her body once more to....

He flicked his gaze up then and fixed his deep penetrating stare upon her. His light eyes appear colorless in orange candle light, but they lost none of their effect. She moved towards him as though not of her own accord.

"Sit," he said tonelessly.

Evelyn followed his glance towards a chair across from the desk and she obediently went to it and sank down into the velvety cushion. He had returned his attention back to the document he was still holding before him. 

The minutes ticked away as Evelyn sat, dumbly, waiting on him as he pursued the document. He seemed to have forgotten her presence all together. 

"Are you well?" he asked after a while, making her jump again at the sound of his voice. 

"I've been looked after quite well by both Charlotte and Philip," she replied huskily. 

"I asked how you are," he replied, tonelessly. "Not how well you are cared for. I know my cousins would not falter in their hospitality."

"I am well," she answered with a deep blush. "I must thank you for seeing to my care-- Truly, for saving my life..."

"A man cannot be called such if he doesn't protect what's his," he replied curtly, tossing the documents aside. He formed a steeple with his fingers beneath his chin and studied her with an indiscernible glare. 

Evelyn felt like a child, her face burned hotly, as she drew her shawl closer around her shoulders. She could barely meet his gaze. She was suddenly at a loss as to her purpose there. Did she want a mere reassurance that what occurred in her bedchamber was not just a dream? Did she want some sort of acknowledgement from him? To what end? 

"You look well," he said in his velvety baritone with a slight huskiness that wasn't there before. "I am surprised that you are not asleep this late."

"I couldn't--" she croaked, then cleared her throat to try again, "I couldn't sleep, my lord. It must not be so late as you have not yet gone to bed yourself." 

His thick dark lashes lowered and then flicked up again to glower at her beneath his heavy dark brows. "Your wifely concern touches me," he said with a trace of sarcasm. "Which brings up some interesting recent revelations does it not?" 

"My lord?" She hadn't expected such... coldness from him. She wasn't sure what she had expected. Just not this. Perhaps what passed in her bed, hard all been a dream.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he curled his lips in a slight, bitter smile. "Much has changed between us in a short period of time, has it not? How could I have imaged that fateful night I first laid eyes on you that I would have you here now, tonight."

Her mouth dried and words escaped her as he rose to his feet then and rounded the desk to stand two paces from her. She might have gotten up and ran from the room had he approached her further, but instead he leaned back against the edge of the desk and folded his arms over his chest and crossed his long legs, clad in dark trousers and tucked into riding boots, at the ankles. Suddenly she wasn't sure where to look or what to do with her hands. 

"I had a rather unexpected but quite enlightening conversation with Prince Edward recently," he continued smoothly when she failed to utter a sound.

"You've -- you've met with Edward?" she inquired, wincing at her own obtuse question. 

"A most enlightening meeting. There's much for me to uncover in my future wife it seems."

"You are mistake in your assumptions about Edward and I," she said quickly. Evelyn rose to her feet and ducked behind the chair she had just vacated. "I must tell you before you jump to more assumptions."

"That was quickly made clear to me," he continued wryly, with a raised brow, still leaning against the desk, still studying her with mild amusement. "He had much to share about the one who he calls his dear, sweet sister. It left me to wonder why you have not corrected my assumptions about you and he before."

Evelyn could not bring herself to meet his icy blue stare. She trembled like a leaf under its intensity. "I -- I hadn't corrected you--"

"Yes, Evelyn?" he inquired.

"I deemed it unworthy of a response," she almost whispered as she looked down at her clasped hands. "It was ludicrous for you to assume such things and you had no right to question me-- at the time." 

"So you bore my abuses instead?" he asked softly. "I believe I called you a demimonde. Did that not offend you?"

"Of course!" She shot to her feet then, but couldn't move further beyond that.

"Were you not outraged to have your virtue questioned? To have me handle you as I did that night in your carriage?"

"Certainly I was offended!" she protested, raising her eyes to his. "You had no right--"

He had crossed the distance between them and loomed but a hair's breadth from her. His familiar earthy, masculine scent invaded her senses and she drew in a shaky breath as her dark lashes fluttered. It was a struggle to keep her sanity with him so close and not remember how he had touched her, kissed her.... but, she might keep her composure and her modesty if she could just avoid his gaze, avoid looking at his open shirt. Her core started to burn hotly of its own accord.

"Did you secretly like it, Evelyn?" he purred seductively. His face dipped down so his lips were close to her ear. "Did you enjoy having my hands on you? Is that why you are here now?"

Evelyn fixed her unsteady gaze on the weaving patterns of his shirt as she breathed in his intoxicating scent. 

"Do you want me to touch you again?" he asked softly with a quiver in his own voice. "Now?"

She shuddered and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting, anticipating his touch of his long fingers on her burning skin. His tongue, when he flattened it against her and drew patterns...

"I have every right now, don't I?" he said, his voice deep and husky as he deliberately raked his gaze over her body, so completely exposed beneath the night dress. " I have every right to kiss those plush lips, to touch those supple breasts and everything else beneath this dress. THIS all belongs... to me!"

He still hasn't touched her but the vivid memory of how he had stroked her, liquified her.

"For that privilege I'll be awarded immense riches. In less than a fortnight I will have it, and you! All of you and your -- considerable wealth, His Highness tells me. How fortunate am I? Should I simply enjoy my rewards, and not bother to wonder why I've been singled out for such fortunes? Why out of all His eligible peerage, His Majesty chose to give bestow His secret, bastard, daughter on me?"

Evelyn felt the wind knocked from her. She quickly recoiled from him and he stepped away from her too, his face a mask of indiscernible coldness.

"Sit down!" he commanded.

Her legs trembled as she sank down in the chair once more. 

"So that's the mystery of Lady Evelyn?" he was saying. 

"I have no answer for you!" she replied miserably as she willed herself not to cry. "I cannot say why you were selected for me or I for you. The burden of my birth will not be a burden to you."

"You know that's of no consequence!" he retorted sharply, suddenly alive with anger. "Legitimacy of a king's child only matters in terms of succession. That has no bearing on you and certainly no bearing on your place in Society. So why the ruse? This elaborately concocted story involving of all people-- the Warwick's?"

Evelyn bit her lower lip and looked away. "The Earl has faithfully served His Majesty for many years and one of very few who knows my secret."

"The Earl is a breathing corpse and his wife is a fool!"

"Edward felt that I would be safe there," she replied woodenly.

Lord Davenport took a deep breath to maintain his composure. "That's proven false when she allowed you, a maiden, to be out alone, at night! Do not forget, I'm intimately acquainted with just how well you've been looked after!"

He took another breath and raised the book to rest his chin on the edge. "Unless of course you had staged your own assault--"

Evelyn stood up again. "I cannot think what I have done to make you think so little of me! To be capable of the deceit--"

"Stay where you are madam!" he commanded. She dropped back down onto the chair and kept her gaze fixed stubbornly away from him. 

"Oh my darling, every one of your sex is capable of deceiving," he taunted her. "I've bore witness to every conceivable game of deception and duplicity. Where women lack in physical strength she makes up for with cunning. So yes I think you perfectly capable of orchestrating that little farce for me to find when I refused you my attentions when our betrothal," he spat out the word, "was so conveniently announced to the world. And here we are"

"My dowry ought to be a salve for that inconvenience," Evelyn retorted.

"It certainly is," he smirked. "What man wouldn't be soothed by such an attractive package."

Evelyn sighed deeply with a heavy heart as she rose gracefully once more to her feet. She suddenly appeared weary and far older than her eighteen years. "You speak in riddles my lord. I gather from the way you refuse to be direct that you think my being married to you is a peace offering for some previous slight. You might not tell me what that may be and I won't ask. We women are nothing more than pawns in the elaborate game men play after all."

Lord Davenport's jaw clenched tightly as he glowered down at her. "Do you think that," he said flatly, rhetorically. "An astute observer are you?"

That roused Evelyn's ire. "You don't know me at all! Yet you've made up your mind not to like me. What have I done that you toy with me so? While I remain grateful to you in the depth of my heart for coming to my rescue, even when you think it was... my manipulation. I will break this engagement and cause you no more distress. I will leave here in the morning and trouble you no more. Good evening!"

Rather than refuting her, Davenport actually dropped his head, chastised. Then he peered up at her and watched her perfect lips form and shape every word. Suddenly he felt unsure of himself. It was a foreign feeling that this young woman, newly come of age, seemed to so easily wretch from him. 

Evelyn had turned to leave the room once more, but she was not quick enough. In two long strides he overtook her. He grabbed her shoulders and yanked her against his body. He couldn't let her go! 

"My lord!" she managed to gasp as he held her firmly to him with one hand and grabbed her chin with the other. 

"It is done," he said heatedly. His breath blew hotly, tinged with whiskey and tobacco, down on her face. "You and I will be wed before God and witnesses two days hence. There's no escape from fate. Not for you. Not for me. Though, you may come to rue the day you've ever set eyes on me!"

End of Chapter 4 



Duplicity Ch. 04



That touch brought Merle back to reality.

He couldn't let her feel him up because his cock was buried under his thick body suit. Imagine her surprise...

He softly grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it.

What the hell was he thinking? He couldn't continue this charade. He had to tell her the truth. He was sure she could be trusted with the secret. But when she found out the truth, he could risk losing her...

"It's ok Merle; I want to be with you. You don't have anything to feel ashamed of." Layla incorrectly assumed Merle was self-conscious because of his body.

Merle sensed the opportunity and took it.

Distractingly he kissed her softly and peppered kisses toward her cheek until he reached her ear. He tenderly sucked her earlobe. In response Layla felt herself gushing wet.

"Later, sweetheart... I promise." He whispered hoarsely.

Layla shuttered and sucked a breath in as her body vibrated and spasmed. He hadn't even touched her and she was on verge on cumming.

Somehow they gathered themselves together and walked out hand in hand.

They decided to take a walk by the pier to get some fresh air. It was a popular spot for locals and tourists, but at the moment it was deserted and dark.

The streetlamps stood guard and lit their path as they strolled down the boardwalk. The fresh sea air was cool and calming as the crashing waves resounded confidently. Merle's arm curved around Layla's shoulders protecting her from the chill.

"Hey look! It's the asshole I was telling you about." A voice called out in Greek.

"Where?!" Two voices said in unison.

"And that stuck up bitch is with him." He whispered.

Nico and four other men emerged from the darkness. He was obviously tipsy but his friends looked completely lucid.

"It's because of you motherfucker! You got me fired!"

Merle and Layla looked at him in confusion. Merle understood what he said but was confused by what he meant. And Layla was just confused because she didn't understand Greek.

"What do you want Nico? You're not making sense." Merle said as he slowly moved Layla behind him.

Nico angrily said, "Someone told the tailor we had gotten lost and that's why we were late for the tuxedo fitting..."

Merle looked at him impassively and shrugged his shoulders. "So what."

"The tailor is my uncle you asshole! He knew I was lying and I only had one more chance to prove myself. And now I'm fired."

"Well that's your fault isn't it?" Merle said.

"No fucker that's your fault. I should kick your fat ass and embarrass you in front of your little girlfriend."

Merle calmly sighed. "Nico, you're drunk. Why don't you go home and sleep it off, huh?" This guy was already grating Merle's patience. Although he was focused on Nico; he had already sized the other men up. He saw one of them had something long in his hand, while the other had a pipe which he probably just found on the street.

"Umm Merle, maybe we should just get out of here." Layla whispered in a concerned voice.

Nico stepped up to him and raised his finger in his face.

But before he uttered a word Merle said, "Get your finger out of my face. And don't be stupid enough to touch me."

"Why- don't- you- make- me?" Nico said as he poked Merle's chest after every word. Merle quickly grabbed his finger and twisted it. It made a distinct popping sound right before Nico screamed in agony.

"You broke my finger, you motherfucker!" He screamed and hunched over, inspecting his hand.

Merle seemed un-phased, "I warned you."

By this time the other men were forming a circle, ready at any moment to jump in.

"Here let me help you. You really shouldn't do stuff like that." Merle calmly said as he tried to help him.

But Nico let out a warrior's cry and bum rushed him. He was like a bull barreling toward him. Given Merle's large pot belly and squishy arms, Nico thought it would be like tackling a plush pillow.

Unfortunately he wasn't counting on Merle's unmovable stance... that felt like he hit a brick wall. Nico bounced back, fell on his ass and let out a loud groan.

"So predictable." Merle shook his head and chuckled. He looked over his shoulder and smiled at Layla.

"You ok, sweetheart?"

Layla's mouth hung open at the scene but nodded in reply.

"Why don't you do me a favor and go stand over there? I'll be there in a minute." Merle said like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"No."

"Layla..."

"No, I'm not going to leave you alone with these thugs."

"Trust me."

Layla glared at him but realized there was no convincing him. She muttered something under her breath but walked over to a safe distance. She was genuinely concerned Merle would get hurt.

"She must be blind and a stupid bitch to be with your ugly ass." Nico ground out through clenched teeth.

"What... did you just say?" Merle's tone was serious as he spoke in English.

"I said your little girlfriend is a stupid... blind... bitch..."

With lighting speed, Merle's right fist collided into Nico's left cheek while his left fist wasn't far behind as it struck his right side. Nico didn't even have time to form an attack because Merle's right fist barreled into him again and that was it...

Nico's whole body spiraled into the direction of the hit; his eyes fluttered up and his whole body involuntarily fell to the ground with a loud thud.

"That's what I thought." Merle said. He looked up and saw the men completely confused at the scene. Nico didn't even get one punch in and was already out cold.

"Anyone else?"

Two of the men looked indecisive while the other two were ready for their turn. A tall thin man with brown hair stepped forward. He was carrying something that looked like a paddle; it must have been a rowboat's oar.

Merle rolled his eyes. "Really? This idiot... alright come on, I don't have all day."

The man started swinging the paddle at him. He kept swinging getting closer and closer to Merle's face... taunting him.

Merle didn't move an inch.

Layla flinched and partially covered her face as she thought for sure Merle would get his head bashed in.

But suddenly Merle grabbed it right out of his hands and gave him one good swing in the gut. As the man bent over, Merle quickly clocked him in the face and he fell back and was out cold.

The next contender was a dark haired man who was actually impressive in size. His bulging muscles would have made anyone run for the hills. He wore a tank top and his thick neck displayed his throbbing veins while his large fists were ready to crush anything in sight.

"Oh you? Ok twinkle toes come on." Merle taunted.

The man let out a sound that sounded like a growl.

No one knew how but in less than a minute, the man was on his knees begging for Merle to let him go. Merle was holding tightly to a pressure point behind his ear that caused maximum pain. Merle finally let him go and pushed him away.

"Go. And take your friends with you."

The last 2 men were already dragging Nico and the other man with them while the strong man followed in defeat.

"Oh my God Merle! What... How did you do that?" She witnessed how he went through those guys without breaking a sweat.

Merle shrugged. "It's not a big deal, they were harmless." He said as he pulled her into an embrace.

"You are the most unexpected man I've ever met." She whispered.

"You have no idea." He mumbled before he kissed her. He needed to taste her lips since he found solace in them. He angled his head as he delved deeper. He held her tight and felt her squirm beside him. Their tongues continued to meld into each other... in their own erotic battle. He ran his hand down her back and rubbed her ass gently.

Merle felt himself painfully harden. They needed to get back quickly. But before they left, he couldn't resist letting his hands roam freely on her chest. His thumbs lightly brushed her nipples. Layla felt a current ride through her while her pussy gushed in response.

"Let's get back sweetheart and do this right." His deep voice rumbled.

______



Duplicity Ch. 05



Hey guys- So this chapter is a short one, it gets right to the 'ahem' point. Let me know what you think. Thank you for your continued support, votes and comments. Thanks to honeybree for her great editing.

*

When they got back to the house, they walked through the courtyard. They were about to go through the living room but they heard Sienna and Jason talking. They were talking about them, wondering where they were.

Merle pulled Layla close and hid behind a wall.

"Shh." Merle softly said while putting his finger on her lips. Layla couldn't understand it but she wanted to suck his finger right into her mouth. She was so wet from this evening's events.

Merle pulled her along and slipped by undetected. He needed to get them out of there before Sienna and Jason inadvertently said something he didn't want Layla to hear. He pulled her and started running towards the rooms. Layla giggled as they ran like children to their floor.

Her blood was pumping; her nipples were still distended and hard. She had to have him tonight.

When they reached her door, he pushed her up against it. He fully pressed himself onto her and kissed her until she was dizzy. His tongue completely dominated her while his hands freely roamed her body.

But she wanted more, needed more.

As if he heard her thoughts, she felt his hand travel down her thigh and up her skirt.

His thick finger found her panty clad pussy. He could feel the heat radiating from her. She moaned and encouraged him further as he found her warm slick entrance.

He resumed kissing her as his lips traveled towards her neck; biting the soft flesh he found there. His finger continued massaging her pussy lips while he intentionally avoided her clit. His tongue laved the spot where her neck met her shoulder. Layla gasped for breath.

She couldn't think straight, she could only feel herself lose control. She was ready to beg him.

His finger slowly entered her, sawing its way in and out, he then added a second finger and then a third. The friction caused her clit to harden and enlarge.

She was on the verge of cumming, about a second from exploding...

He looked into her eyes as if he was silently communicating with her. She licked her lips and his thumb slowly descended.

As soon as it caressed her clit, she felt herself vibrate uncontrollably. He rubbed her clit in small circles, knowing exactly what she needed. He kissed her and swallowed her loud scream as she came.

Feeling electrified but completely relaxed, she came down from her high. She gasped for air since her chest felt like it was about to explode. He smiled and kissed her softly.

His fingers came out of its hiding place covered in her translucent essence. He licked his fingers clean as her hooded eyes watched him intently. She tasted so good to him; he couldn't wait to feast from the source.

"Come inside with me." She whispered.

Merle licked his lips and nodded. "But I'll be right back. Be ready for me..."

He turned away and walked towards his room.

She quickly walked in her room and closed the door. She felt like she was about explode from excitement. Besides the fact it had been so long for her, she was just excited to be with him.

It would normally take at least a month of serious dating for her to be intimate with someone, if she allowed it to last that long. Then she would carefully plan everything out and made sure the plans were clearly understood by her boyfriend. Although there were some who were nice, none of those other guys were Merle. Everything with him was spontaneous, fun, sexy and intense.

She hadn't felt this way about anyone since her ex-fiancé, and even then it was different. With Pierre, it took her a while to open up to him. And that was something that she felt almost immediately with Merle. He just cut right through her self-made walls as if it were an easy thing to do. She couldn't explain the feeling; it just felt right with him.

It had been a long day but Merle energized her. It was as if with just a little piece of him, she could go on for weeks at a time.

She knew she felt something powerful for him because it hadn't even crossed her mind what he might look like under his clothes. She quickly freshened up and slipped into some sexy fire red lingerie. It was a matching bra and panty set with a garter belt. She wore her 4" heels to complete the look.

Not bad... not bad at all, she thought as she looked in the mirror. She hummed, "Tonight, I'll be the best you ever had."

She giggled to herself. What the hell... she was one of those girls now?

Layla didn't care. Deep down she knew... tonight would be the best night she'd ever had.

__________

Merle detoured from going to his room and went downstairs to the living room. Sienna and Jason were seated on the large cream leather sectional. She was wringing her hands and talking fast but in hushed tones. Merle walked to the side of their view and leaned against the wall.

"Oh thank God! Where have you been?! We've been worried sick about you." Sienna exclaimed.

Jason lifted his finger and said, "Correction, she's been worried sick about you."

"You need to calm down Cece. We were only gone for a couple hours."

"We? As in you were out with Layla?"

"Yea. What's it to you?"

Sienna stopped and looked at him. Then she grinned widely.

"You and Layla?"

Silence.

Merle crossed his arms.

Sienna let out an excited scream, "Tell me, tell me everything!"

Jason shook his head amused. Sienna was worried sick one minute and now wanted to gossip.

"I'm not telling you shit, nosey." Merle said and chuckled.

"Holy crap... you really liked her."

"Listen... I just came down to tell you we are safe and sound. So don't come around bothering us. Now go get some rest, I swear you're going to give my niece or nephew an ulcer."

Merle straightened himself up to leave but stopped and gave Sienna a kiss on her head and walked away.

"I hope you know what you're doing!" Sienna called out to him.

He gave her a wicked grin and winked, "Always."

__________

After picking up some necessary things and making sure his disguise was intact; he set out towards Layla's room. He knocked on her door twice and waited for a reply. His palms were sweaty but he was eager to see her.

"Come in." Her feminine voice called out from inside.

When Merle stepped into the room he thought his control would slip and he would devour her right then and there.

The room was set up with candles everywhere creating a soft lazy glow. There was a huge cherry wood four-post bed set in the middle which Merle knew would be there.

Perched on a mountain of pillows was his beautiful goddess.

She wore a bright red bra and panties. Her delicious globes graced her chest as he detected hardened nipples through the lace. Her long legs were covered in black sheer thigh high stockings latched to a garter belt at her hips. Her legs extended from her as she slightly bent them at the knees. Her black high heels were still on her feet as they naughtily dug into the comforter. Her skin was even and looked soft, like silk. Merle itched to touch her but refrained.

She confidently waited for him, enjoying his perusal of her form. She loved the way his predatory gaze illustrated what he wanted to do to her. He was sure to be putty in her hands, or so she thought...

"Aren't you going to come closer?" She purred.

"Of course... but aren't you going to greet me properly?" He said smugly. His posture remained at attention with his hands behind his back.

Layla smirked. So that's how he was going to play it. She would play along, for now.

She slowly got to her knees and unabashedly inched toward him, swaying her hips as she went. Knowing full well she was pushing her breasts out toward him... for the desired effect.

He wore a lopsided grin as he stood still, envisioning everything he would do to her.

When she was face to face with him with only inches apart she stopped. She licked her lips and wondered when his resolve would break.

"Kiss me." His deep voice resounded.

Layla slightly shivered and felt her pussy respond.

Her face slowly met his and graced him with an innocent kiss on his full lips and pulled away.

"You miss me?" He said, still not touching her.

"A little."

"Liar."

She rolled her eyes. "Ok, yes I've missed you."

"Good."

He pulled away from her and sat in an armchair on the other side of the room.

Still on her knees on the bed, Layla looked at him confused.

Merle was enjoying this little game they were playing.

Although it took all of his power to remain unaffected, he rather liked throwing her off balance. He knew she had a compulsive need to be in control, so it was going to be fun making her lose it.

Layla looked at Merle. His presence commanded the space as he sat back with his legs apart. He was sexy as hell and now she was thoroughly annoyed. Here she planned a romantic night and he was acting like a fool. What did he think... that she would jump at the opportunity to satisfy his every whim? Oh hell no.

Maybe this was a mistake. She was about to make up an excuse and have him leave.

"Come here baby." He softly said.

His tone stopped her in her tracks. Even though when she looked at him, she stubbornly crossed her arms; she felt herself melt inside.

Merle chuckled to himself when he sensed her temper rise. And although he rather liked her this way, he realized he had to momentarily change tactics.

"Please?"

Layla climbed off the bed and walked towards him.

When she was in reach, he pulled her arms so she could be even closer to him. Even though she was still hesitant, she went willingly.

The glow of the candles illuminated the edges of her body in the most tantalizing way. While his eyes locked on hers, he tenderly kissed her exposed stomach.

There was a tingling sensation that ran through her. She rested her hands on his neck, cradling his head. He peppered kisses up and down and around her navel. He then nibbled as he went while his hands took the liberty of caressing her plump ass.  

In response she squirmed and rubbed her legs together to create a little friction and release. She was so wet she didn't know how long she could last.

"You're gorgeous... especially when you're annoyed at me."

Layla softly smiled and playfully smacked his shoulder.

"I want to try something, if you let me." He said as he continued kissing her tummy and down lower. He was so distracting; she almost didn't hear what he said.

Turning her around, he swiftly sat her on his lap. With her back flush against him, he kissed her exposed neck and brushed his hands up her arms. Merle pulled out a couple of scarves he'd brought in and had set to the side all along. They were long soft black cotton.

Layla suddenly saw there was something black closing in on her view.

"No, what is this?"

"Trust me. Just... let... go." He rumbled in her ear.

Layla was nervous and didn't think she could. Her head moved from side to side as if she could make something out. Merle made sure to securely tie the blindfold already knowing she couldn't see a thing.

She inhaled and exhaled, full of anxiety at not being able to see. But the rhythmic sound of his voice assuaged her fears.

His hands ran down her chest and massaged her breasts, tugging lightly at her nipples. He felt the hardened peaks and skillfully drove her crazy.

Layla let out a soft moan and breathlessly said, "You're a hard man to say no to."

Merle chuckled and she yelped when he picked her up and laid her in the middle of the bed. Since she was blindfolded her senses seemed to have become heightened.

Knowing he was moving around and not knowing what he was doing was exciting and terrifying at the same time. She felt him unclasp the straps and slowly remove her thigh high stockings. She felt a chill in the air which produced goose bumps.

There was a cool thick liquid he poured on her feet and legs, followed by his strong hands massaging them. She let out a happy sigh and let herself relax.

His hands traveled up and down the sole of her left foot, from the fleshy part to her toes. She felt his breath nearby. He planted strategic kisses by the arch of her foot and then moved to her ankle.

She was sensitive there and her breathing shuddered. Not being able to see caused her to just concentrate on the pleasure he was giving her. He continued up her calf and laid her leg on his shoulder as he massaged and kissed every spot he encountered. Her skin was addictive and her sounds encouraged him to keep going.

By the time he reached her thigh, she was almost trembling in anticipation. He moved toward her inner thigh and continued to kiss but started nibbling her flesh as well. He continued his journey up toward her treasure and was just a whiff away from her pussy. When he smelled her arousal, he licked his lips but moved away.

She felt him leave and wanted to cry out in disappointment. But moments later she felt him spread some thick liquid on her right foot and leg and he resumed treatment on her right side. By this time she was dripping wet but was surprised at how much she was enjoying his approach. It was like heaven and hell all rolled into one as he gave her pleasure but held off her release.

Layla had even forgotten she was blindfolded. It seemed it never really mattered with Merle anyway. She felt so naughty and sexy as her imagination ran wild.

Merle approached her right inner thigh but this time spread her legs out a little. He removed her soaked red panties and threw them to the side but left the garter belt on. She felt the cool garter buckles rub against her. Merle continued his quest towards his treasure.

He slowly licked and sucked his way to her pussy petals. He gave them a kiss then slid his tongue through her slit. He gathered her juices on his tongue and moaned.

Just as he thought, she tasted so good straight from the source.

He couldn't get enough of her. He had to keep her hips steady as he ate her sweet nectar. She balled her fists to try to regain some control.

Layla was trying hard not to cum but she couldn't help herself. She screamed as she came hard on his face.

Continuing the assault, his tongue sucked the underside of her clit. She screamed as her orgasm continued and rolled into another one. She felt herself in a daze as she came down from her high. She was sweating and panting but quickly starting dozing off as she was completely relaxed.

Merle moved off of her and walked around the sides of the bed. Grabbing the other scarves, he tied her hands to the bed posts above her. He made sure to leave plenty of room so she wouldn't be too uncomfortable.

With what he was about to do, he couldn't risk her trying to touch him.

Skillfully he'd already removed all of his clothes and props... he took advantage that Layla was out of it and quietly slipped out of the body suit. He needed to be himself for their first time together.

He knew the situation was fucked up but for some reason he just couldn't resist. There was no way he would turn back now even though his brain screamed for him to stop. He would have to find a way to tell her the truth soon.

So there Sean stood in all his naked glory, his body looked like it had been etched from stone. His long cock jutted up towards his stomach. The only thing he thought about was his beautiful woman and how he was about to lay claim to her in the most intimate way.

He undid her bra and bit his bottom lip when he saw the most perfect set of breasts he'd ever seen. The dark brown areolas weren't too large, a little bigger than a silver dollar. Not being able to hold back, he kissed them and nipped at her chocolate drop nipples.

"Mm-hmm." Layla tried to look in his direction but could only feel him. She wanted more, needed more.

"Let me go. I want to touch you." She protested.

He rolled a condom on his thick length and carefully climbed on the bed. He grabbed her legs and rested them on his shoulders. There were really only a few positions he could manage where she wouldn't notice his change in size. He positioned himself and rubbed his mushroom head at her entrance and waited. She moaned and withered in anticipation.

"You're mine sweetheart. You'll always be mine, no matter what."

"Fuck me, please."

Those words were almost his undoing. But he managed to slowly inch his way into her for the first time.

Now suddenly completely awake, Layla thought she would die of pleasure. The delicious pain caused her to shut her eyes tightly under the blindfold. Laughing softly as she hissed air between her teeth. He was so big and thick; it was like she could feel every throbbing vein move through her.

"Fuck ...!" she gasped for air.

Damn, this man felt so good. She somehow knew he would. He was so powerful and completely in control.

Sean was trying very hard not to cum but she was so fucking tight. She felt so good gripping his dick as he inched inside of her. When he bottomed out he felt his balls lightly touch her ass. As soon as he withdrew he proceeded to fuck her excruciatingly slow and deep.

Those deep long strokes had her squealing with each thrust. Layla couldn't help herself and came again. His hands roamed her stomach up to her breasts and he tweaked her left nipple as he continued to pump in and out of her. She felt her cum flowing out to coat his pistoning shaft and she began to fuck him back, meeting him thrust for thrust moaning and gasping against him.

"Fuck! Please baby, fuck this pussy faster." She cried out.

Sean pummeled into her as deep and fast as he could. He gripped her thighs as leverage and grunted deep in his throat,

"Feels so good, little girl."

Suddenly he withdrew and with a swift movement flipped her over... on her hands and knees. The scarves tied to the post now pulled her arms and made an X above her head. She was momentarily confused but quickly realized what he was doing. She loved this wild ride. She couldn't think straight. He rubbed her meaty ass and entered her again from behind.

She exhaled and shuddered. Her back arched and she pushed her ass out toward him.

While never breaking his rhythm, he flexed his hip several times as he continued in and out of her. His thrusts changed and became more hurried, deeper and harder. She had a steady ball of ecstasy growing inside her and threatening to take over.

Sean reached down and rubbed her clit. She wailed as the crashing wave of her orgasm flooded through her, squirting her juices on him. He went rigid.

"Fuck!!" He roared.

He pumped inside of her three last times and came deep inside her.

...

He withdrew from her and went to the bathroom. He disposed of the condom and wrapped a towel around his waist. He brought out a warm cloth and lovingly cleaned her up. He untied her and laid her comfortably on her side but left the scarf over her eyes.

She was sound asleep and softly snoring. Sean stole one last kiss from her and slowly and carefully untied the last scarf from her eyes.

He had to get the hell out of there before she woke up and saw him. He took one last look at her and left the room... without a doubt he would tell her the truth tomorrow.



Duplicity Ch. 05



Philip rushed to his bedchamber and shut himself in. He held the door closed with both hands for a moment and leaned his whole body against the sturdy carved door to push out the snarling, whirling demons sniping at his heels. For a brief moment, it as quiet in his room, except for the thundering of his own heartbeat in his chest. Philip dragged a shaky hand over his face and felt just how damp clammy and stubbled his skin felt. His eyes burned feverishly with madness and fear. 

Suddenly he thought he heard a ghostly hiss in the darkness: "You bastard! You fucking bastard!" 

He was going mad! The voice seemed so real he could almost feel the chill of a spectral breath against his face! But he knew the voice was merely in his head. It was manifestation of his own fear, guilt, borne of his dastardly misdeed! 

"My God, what have I done?" he cried out. With a shaky grasp, Philip slumped against the door and slid down the length of it till he dropped down on the floor with a thud. He drew his legs towards him and dropped his head between his extended arms propped on his knees. 

He emitted a long, deep, audible sigh along with a name: "Evelyn!" Then he uttered a small, strangled cry that caught in his burning lungs and made him gasp for air. It was the sound a condemned man, full of guilt, might utter. For that was what he was. Guilty. And condemned. The demons in his conscious snickered cruelly at his anguish.

Why did he do it? Oh God, why?!

Philip rolled his head to one side against the door and thought he caught a hint of her musky sweet scent still lingering on his lips, on his stubbled chin. It was followed by a stronger, familiar, smell: clean, strong and masculine. It was the smell of Lord Davenport!

Philip gave a small shriek and crawled on his hands and feet away from the door, fully expecting his cousin to come dashing in demanding Philip's blood!!! But his door remained firmly shut. There was no one there! Then, Philip realized with a pain in his chest that he was still wearing Lord Davenport's clothes! 

He rose to his feet and quickly tore off the jacket as if it was suddenly crawling with ants and flung violently across the room. The cravat and vestment soon followed. For a moment Philip could breath again as he stood in his own shirt and trousers looking at the discarded clothing, crumpled into a heap, like a man who had sudden awoken from a horrible dream. 

"I'm a pitiful, disgusting creature," he muttered to himself. "I have cursed myself in God's eyes, I know it. I have betrayed my conscious. Violated a blameless woman and proved myself unworthy of friendship and anyone's good opinion of me. "

"You are every bit of the man as Lord Davenport," a lyrical feminine voice said in his head. Some lady had said those words to him earlier in the evening, for Philip couldn't recall who it might have been. Could it have been that very night? It all seemed so long ago. 

"You're a scoundrel!" another, more malevolent voice taunted him. 

Philip grounded the heels of his palms against his shut eyes to shut off the images flashing before him. He could not force out the vivid memories of what took place only moments ago.

An image of a sleeping Evelyn, lying so vulnerable in her bed, flashed before him. He had entered her room somehow and stood at the foot of her bed as she slept. Even in the darkness her skin seemed to glow. Her dark brows formed perfect arches over the dark ovals of her eyelids, her long, thick black lashes were two dark fans resting on her cheeks. 

He felt he knew every line, every curve of her face as he had studied that face everyday in all these weeks she's been at Davenport House. Even chance he had he spent it with her. They shared an occasional meal together, or read together. Once, they even spent several hours deep in conversation together as only the truest of friends would. Philip had to keep reminding himself that she was meant for his cousin, Lord Davenport. Yet those moments he spent with her were some of the best moments of his life! She wanted to know all about her future lord and Philip was only too happy to answer all her questions just to watch her delightful expressions. She may be asking after her betrothed, but Philip felt as though her blushes and lurid smiles were for him. Philip brought her books and sheet music and anything else he thought might amuse her. And she was always so pleased... so pleased with his gifts... so pleased with his attention. There were times he felt certain she returned his feelings too.... Then he would quickly chastise himself and remind himself she was to marry his cousin.

Yet, he really couldn't recall how he came to be there, hugging a bed poster at the foot of the bed, watching her chest rise and fall with every breath.

The voices of his conscious cried out for him to leave! At once! He should not be there, lurking in the darkness like some fiend over his kinsman's fiance. 

"But was there ever a creature created more perfect than she?" he argued back to his conscience. "Wasn't she created to be admired? To be loved? Not to languish in drudgery, like some fairy princess waiting on her inattentive betrothed."

That voice of reason grew more and more muted by the sounds of his own blood pumping and rushing through his veins as he watched her sleep. His alcohol-fueled desires took over and he placed a knee on the bed! What if she wakes up and screams down the house? Just look at her thought, so utterly helpless and his for the taking... No one would ever know if he was careful.... 

Philip's limbs moved of their own accord. He was a mere observer in his own body when he climbed into her bed and crawled over the sleeping Evelyn. He touched her body, felt her heat and kissed her exquisite lips. He kissed her soft, generous curves, down to her tangy, intoxicating womanly thighs he had only dreamt of till that moment. He wasn't hurting her. He would never hurt her. He merely wanted to bring her pleasure. 

She cried out in pleasure and flooded his mouth with her exquisite taste! He, Philip Mallory, brought her pleasure!

Then she uttered a name!

"My lord," she had moaned with Philip's tongue lapping at her silky, hot little cunny. "My lord....Davenport!"

That had the effect of a bucket of ice water to rouse Philip. She called out for her lord and master, not Philip! She called out for Lord Davenport because that was who occupied her thoughts and dreams!

Reason and shame returned like a cannonball shot right into his chest and knocked him back off the bed and sent him scrambling away as fast as he could. 

"Like a thief in the night," that ghostly voice hissed in his head. "You stole in her chambers! She's not yours to have and you nearly spoiled her innocence and forever! They trusted you! They all trusted you! You worthless scoundrel! Knave! Cursed!"

Philip bit back a regretful moan as he sat in his dark bedroom, recalling how fast he had fled her rooms. He felt as though his own guilt and shame had taken the form of demons to chase him to the very gates of hell! When Philip finally stopped, to clear his head and calm himself he realized he had gone the length of the house and had somehow ended up on the stairway landing. It was apt that he had ended up there, caught between stairs that led back up to bedchambers, and stairs that disappeared into the darkness below. 

He ought to descend those stairs and make his escape in the middle of the night, never to be tempted again by his weakness for Evelyn. Perhaps, in time, he may even salvage what was left of his honor. He should simply walk out the front door into a certain exile and never return. But, Philip knew he was too cowardly to face an uncertain future all alone in the world without his cousin's love and protection. Yet... how could he face his family, his own image in the mirror knowing what he had just done? How could he ever face Evelyn again, live under the same roof as her, after he had violated her so... And forever remember the shape of her naked thighs, her hot, silky sex? 

"What are you doing up there, Philip?" a deep, smooth, velvety baritone asked.

Philip felt every hairs stand up, and goosebumps cover his body in utter terror! "J-John! Cousin!" Philip croaked in response at the tall looming figure of his cousin who suddenly materialized at the foot of the stairs below him. "Y-you're home? I didn't expect-- that is, what---?"

The silhouette of Lord Davenport's tall, imposing physique emerged from the shadows cast by some flickering candles behind him. As he moved closer to the bottom of the stairs, his steely pale eyes glittering under the pale moonlight cascading down from the skylight above. He had changed out of his evening wear into a white shirt, dark trousers and riding boots that displayed his muscular physique. The Marquess was terrifying to behold, so full of restrained animalistic intensity that might unleash at any moment. Or was that just Philip's own imagination running wild? For the first time in his life Philip was frightened of his cousin. So deathly afraid!

How long had Lord Davenport been standing there so eerily calm? Did he know what Philip was up to? Did his lordship suspect anything was amiss? Philip could almost imagine how he must look to the other man, disheveled and out of breath, still wearing the clothes he had borrowed from Lord Davenport. What must his cousin think of Philip at that moment? Could he see the sweat running down Philip's forehead or how Philip's lips trembled? Was there a trace of Evelyn's scent still clinging to him? Philip felt almost certain his guilt must be written all over him. 

"I had some documents here," Lord Davenport replied evenly, starting up at him from beneath his heavy dark brows with his inscrutable gaze. "Will you join me? The trading posts have sent back their reports and I'd like to compare it to your surveying notes."

"I'd rather not," Philip said as steadily as he could. He attempted a smile that was more of a grimace. "Rather tired, you see. Long day. I think I'll go to bed."

Lord Davenport's expression didn't change as he studied Philip. Philip felt certain those icy-blue eyes saw straight into his guilt-riddled soul and saw everything. Was that pain and betrayal he sees or was Philip's mind playing tricks on him again?

"Yeees...." Lord Davenport drew out the word in a slow hiss after a long, tense, moment. "You do look rather peaked ol'man. I'd say you haven't been well at all lately. Get a good night's sleep then. I'll see you in the morning."

So Philip escape to his chambers with a feeling of dread and foreboding. That's how he came to slumped against the door, till his legs gave way under him. At any moment now he half expected Lord Davenport to come crashing through that door and pummel him roundedly as he well deserved.

A wave of nausea took ahold of him and Philip barely made it to a nearby chamberpot before he emptied the entire content of his stomach into it. He heaved and retched till there was nothing left but an excruciating pain in his head, his throat and all his limbs. What brought him to this state? How did he, always so temperate, end up on his knees over a sick-filled chamber pot? He wiped his lips and fell back on the floor as he tried to piece together the events of that day. 

No! 

His hell had been brewing for some time now! 

Still unable to get up off his knees, P slumped down to the floor as he struggled but failed to recall how or when exactly he heard of his cousin's betrothal to Lady Evelyn. 

More memories came whirling back. There were vivid images, but others were murkier and imperfect. He recalled having just returned to the city on an errand for his cousin. It was as though, during the short time he was away, the whole world changed. He remembered feeling a numbness spread over his body and moving about like a man lost at sea that was only broken up a bit after he reached the bottom of a bottle of wine or Scotch. He recall offering his congratulations and saying all the right words. 

What did he feel, though? Was it injustice, as he had been the first to see her, to set eyes on her and called her to the attention of his cousin? No! It couldn't be, as Philip knew that his uncle, the Duke, and the King had made this match for reasons that had little to do with either parties involved, and even less to do with Philip. Yet he couldn't shake the feeling that had Lord Davenport wanted to he could have said no without too much fuss, if for no other reason than to respect Philip's feelings. But Lord Davenport did want Evelyn, didn't he? At least in the most carnal way as Philip had witnessed with his own eyes at the Earl of Warwick's tea. 

So when his sister, Charlotte asked him: "Why haven't Cousin John been to see Lady Evelyn or properly introduced us?" Philip didn't have an answer because he truly didn't know. Or more to the point, he didn't care to know. 

"Our cousin does things his own way," was Philip's excuse to his sister.

"But at least you know his thoughts on how he wants things done."

"Not me!" Philip protested. "You know him as well as I. He's hates to be forced into anything and he wants to exercise some semblance of control I'm sure. Allow him this bit of self-indulgence. He'll go to her when he's good and ready. We ought to respect his wishes...as we do in all things..."

"But she's to be his wife!" Charlotte argued. "This isn't some silly game! We're to be family!"

What Philip didn't tell his sister was that he suspected his cousin had other dalliances. It wouldn't do to say such things to a gentle woman like Charlotte. Besides, Philip had no proof. He never had any sign that there might be a mistress aside from his lordship's occasional unexplained disappearances for a few hours. After which he would re emerge smelling faintly of perfume and powder. Unlike most men, his Lordship never boasted and would never give a lady away. Philip hoped to God he was right. Perhaps.... Just perhaps his cousin had a secret love stashed away somewhere that he would be willing to cast Lady Evelyn aside over! 

Then came the evening when they happened on a Evelyn's attack! ... It was the worst moment of Philip's life. To hear her blood curdling screams and to see that vile creature on top of her...! Philip never felt more rage or helplessness than when they brought her, listless form back to Davenport House. Then he suffered a lifetime of agony as he stood silently behind his cousin as they both anxiously held vigil over her when a fever took hold of her poor unconscious body. 

The physicians came and went. 

There was little for either of them to do but watch over her lying so still and frail, her little face ashen in the great big canopied bed in the best room in Lord Davenport's house. It nearly broke Philip's spirit to watch Lord Davenport, seated by her bed, with Evelyn's limp little hand pressed again his grim, sunken cheek, whisper softly to her; a right Philip desperately wished was his.

"I never thought I'd see the day," Charlotte confided to Philip, when they were alone, her chest swelling with happiness. "He's shown such care! Such care! I do believe he loves her. At last!"

"He barely knows her!" Philip retorted more sharply than he intended and he was immediately sorry for it. "I just think it's premature to say how he feels about her one way or the other. Just a day ago, he couldn't bring himself to call on her. Clearly he's had a shock. We all have."

His older sister gave him a pitying look. "A wife can make or break a friendship depending on how she feels towards that friend, my dear brother. Life won't be the same between you once he's married. My advice is to make friends with her and things won't have to be too different for you."

"I just think John would show the same kind of concern for any female in distress, let alone one who will be his," Philip sputtered out. "He's no romantic you know but he does have some old fashioned notion of chivalry after all."

Just when Evelyn's fever broke and she started to regain consciousness again, Lord Davenport had a few thing packed and moved to the bachelor quarters at his club. 

"It's easier to conduct my businesses there without all the distractions," he had explained to Philip tersely. "I leave everything to you and Charlotte.Whatever Evelyn wants... see that she gets it."

Philip merely nodded. He was of two minds when it came to his cousin's request. He relished the moments he spent with her, when he pretended that Davenport House was their home and they were man and wife. But he found it harder and harder to face her without taking at least two fingers of whiskey least he should tremble and foolishly give himself away. Whiskey and wine became his constant companion when he went to bed, miserable and alone each night. 

"You ought to see her," Philip finally said to Lord Davenport earlier that evening.

They were on their way to join their friends for supper then for a long evening of cards. Several lords with favors to ask of the Marquess were anxiously awaiting the cousins to join them. 

Lord Davenport arched a brow quizzically at him as they marched down the long glittering corridors. "At the moment I've neither the time nor the capacity to indulge her. I'm suddenly very important to men I've never heard of a week ago. I think many of them expects me to have have the king's ear now."

It was true that some new crisis or utter matter arose with each new day. More ministers from America were arriving each day to put forth their case for more support to their causes. France, Spain and the Prussian territories were still in constant turmoil. More and more loans were put to the aristocracy to support some scheme or speculation either in the northern manufacturing cities or in trade abroad. All the while the streets of London appear even more crowded with new arrivals from the country looking for work. There were mini-riots in the streets from the previous by-election results and from the defeat of several reform measures. Somehow ever matter was put to the Marquess of Davenport. At every moment someone was bending his ear to this cause or that scheme. 

"I don't see how things are different now from what it was before. They've always valued your opinion and needed your money. You've always managed quite well."

Lord Davenport nodded his head to a few gentlemen they passed, never once breaking his stride. "Quite," he said over his shoulder to Philip. "There's just so much more to it all. So much more of everything. I can't fully explain it.... I'll be glad to be back in the country, though I suspect I won't have much rest there either. We may even have to keep Davenport House open."

"You could miss a few hands tonight to spend an hour with her," Philip reasoned. "You ought to see her before your wedding day."

"I will see her soon enough," 

Henry Wilkes chose that moment to join them. "Soon enough indeed! No need to tie on those apron strings just yet. "

Lord Davenport inclined his head slightly to acknowledge the smaller, auburn-haired man's bow even as he wondered where Henry found the courage to speak to him with such familiarity. "I hear you've recently taken the plunge yourself. To an heiress? My congratulations, Henry. I know how much you needed that."

Henry Wilkes wasn't put off by the slight dig as he looked pleasantly from Philip to Lord Davenport. "Thank you my lord! Not married yet so I'm savoring every last moment of freedom I can. My bride to be was raised in a convent you see. Plain little thing with a most nervous disposition. Her momma has already made it clear that I'm expected to curb all my worldly appetites once we're married, so that I don't frighten the poor lamb. So I say you are right to do all you can before matrimony binds you up!"




Duplicity Ch. 05



Lord Davenport cast his glance at Philip and rolled eyes in annoyance. Neither men thought much of Henry Wilkes. Henry bore the title of Honorable and came from a distinguished old family, but he had a cunningness about him.

"Well, good luck to you Henry. Take care you don't loose all your bride's fortune before it's truly yours," Lord Davenport said dismissively.

"Well, I shan't stay long, sadly" Henry replied with a broad grin, not at all put off. "Shame how marriage, even an impending one, takes all the fun out of life. "

"I think it's a fine thing," Philip interjected passionately. He was annoyed by Henry Wilkes's interruption and was glance to. "Marriage is a fine thing for every man to endeavor."

Henry Wilkes chuckled as he picked up his pace to keep up with the cousins' long stride. "Well, it's a necessary thing at the very least. I assure you you'll feel differently when the yolk of inevitability is weighing down upon your shoulders, Philip. It's a lot of responsibility on a man, especially when straddled with a bride who knows nothing useful of the world. There is such a thing as being too chaste in my opinion. But one must do what one must do!"

"Too chaste!" Philip declared, somewhat bemused. "What a thought! A lady can never be too chaste before or after marriage. It's her father's, then her husband's sacred duty that she remains so--!" 

Philip saw the quick, knowing glance that Lord Davenport and Henry Wilkes exchanged, as though some secret knowledge passed between them. Lord Davenport coughed into his fist but Henry smirked openly. Suddenly Philip felt like the intruder. They were mocking him! Philip felt quite hot and foolish even if he couldn't completely understand why. 

Henry shrugged as he glanced up at Lord Davenport's noble visage, scanning the Marquess' profile. "Well I would certainly agree that it's a husband's duty to teach her many things. And the task wouldn't be quite as onerous if my lady were to be a great beauty -- like Lady Evelyn, say!"

Both cousins' stopped in their tracks and whirled around on Henry, in sudden mutual outrage. 

"What a prized filly, she!" Henry Wilkes exclaimed with a chuckle as he continued to walk on. He seemed completely unaware that he was dancing on the line of decency. "Now instructing HER in her wifely duties would be a most enjoyable task--"

Before Lord Davenport could react Philip launched himself at Henry Wilkes's back! With a cry that echoed through the marbled gallery Philip had taken ahold of Henry's shoulders, dragged him back and had landed a punch to the other man's jaw. Henry blocked the next assault and threw his weight into Philip's gut. The two men, with hands at each other's throats fell to polished floor and slide into a crowd of men who had gathered to watch the commotion. Just as Henry had rolled on top of Philip Lord Davenport stepped in to drag Henry Wilkes back and away.

"Enough! Go home, Henry!" the Marquess said, his deep voice low with barely contained anger as he tossed Henry away from him. 

"He attacked me!" a breathless and red-faced Henry protested jabbing a finger towards Philip. 

Lord Davenport instructed Philip. "Go back to my rooms," he said before returning to Henry again.

There was a murmur through the gallery as Philip took off down the long corridor, leaving behind his cousin to speak to Henry Wilkes. Philip felt himself flush hotly in rage and embarrassment as he could just imagine the scandal he had just created. No doubt anyone who caught wind of what had happened would wonder why he had chosen to defend Lady Evelyn's honor, especially with Lord Davenport standing beside him and perfectly capable of the task. Especially when the gentle and sensibly Philip had never been known to act so impulsively. Others may very well describe Philip's action as that of a jealous lover, defending his lady's honour. They will wonder and they will gossip and arrive at all sorts of wild conclusions Philip would much rather that they didn't. Oh yes! Very soon they will all be watching the cousins closely for signs of fracture.

"I don't know what came over me," Philip tried to explain when Lord Davenport joined him later. "I simply loathe that man! He's a stain on his family name!"

Philip was nursing a tumbler of whiskey, still heaving and trembling in shame and anger at having been so impulsive. Lord Davenport went silently to an armour and pull out a spare set of evening wear. That's when Philip noticed that his own sleeve and lapel had been torn beyond repair. Philip tried to read his cousin's face as he accepted the jacket with a feeling of dread and defeat. Lord Davenport didn't speak, nor did his expression change from one of complete calm. Only the throbbing dark vein growing ever pronounced down the side of Lord Davenport's temple told Philip that his cousin felt anything at all.

"Lord and Lady Chamberlain is having the American minister to dinner," Lord Davenport said finally, before Philip could utter another word to explain himself. "We'll go there tonight instead. I mean to speak to him anyway."

At dinner Philip found himself seated at the far end of a long table, almost completely hidden behind a fruit arrangement. Not many paid him much attention as the table was full of men of far more important than the Marquess of Davenport's cousin. That was until Evelyn's friend Lady Ann sat down beside him and seemed intent on engaging him. Her cat-like eyes were. sharp and observant. "What will you do once your cousin marries?" she asked.

Philip wasn't feeling particularly sociable. He was still reliving his fight with Henry Wilkes. "I will do as I have always done, of course," he replied glumly as he took a big gulp of his dinner wine.

Lady Ann smiled a thin enigmatic smile despite Philip's sad, listlessness. She motioned for a footman to top off Philip's wine glass. "Lord Davenport must trust you completely to allow his young bride in the constant company of one as young and handsome as yourself. Why I know many men who would be quite jealous! Perhaps Lord Davenport is just more permissive than most?"

Her calling him handsome raised the color to Philip's already flushed cheeks. Lady Ann was no Lady Evelyn but she was still quite beautiful. Philip tried his best to control the spinning in his head and speak without slurring. "My cousin has nothing to worry about from me," he said. "I wish him every happiness... should this marriage actually take place--"

Lady Ann's smile broaden. "Oh it will! I see what you mean though. Many a man have felt a moment of panic before marriage. He thinks he'll never again have an opportunity to come and go as he pleases. Of course, he'll soon discover that marriage has never stopped any man from pursuing life's many pleasures. Especially not amongst our lot."

"I suppose I'm not one of you then," Philip replied. "I cannot imagine such a thing. When I marry, I will commit to my wife completely and gladly."

"Lady Evelyn's right! If only more men are like you, who thinks as you do. So noble, and virtuous!"

"She said that?" he asked, with his heart in his blood-shot eyes. 

"Not in so many words but she does admire you so very much! She constantly laments that her future husband couldn't be more like you. The same blood flows through your veins. Both equally handsome, but you are far more amiable.... I believe if she had a choice in the matter, her choice would be quite different...."

Philip drained his wine glass in a single gulp to calm the thundering in his chest. He couldn't recall how many glasses of wine he's had. His wine goblets never seem to be emptied. He must stop drinking or Lady Ann will think him borish, he told himself. 

"The contract has been drawn up," he slurred glumly. "The bans read. There's no point in wondering what might have been, could have been."

Lady Ann tilted her head to one side as she daintily dabbed her lips. "Whatever do you mean?" she asked coyly. 

"Aren't you implying--?" Philip spurted in confusion. 

"I've had too much to drink!" Ann laughed a husky seductive laugh and a flirty wink. She selected a deep burgundy plum from the fruit arrangement before them and broke it in half. "You mustn't pay attention to anything I say or I'd think you were taking advantage!"

Philip watched, complete enraptured, as the plum broke apart to reveal the blood red flesh. A burst of nectar ran down Lady Ann's bare hands, and she quickly lapped it up . He wondered drunkenly why she wasn't wearing gloves. Her arms were so naked....

"Wedding always make me think of when I was a young bride," Ann said. Her fingers dipped into her pink mouth one at a time. Philip's felt his own mouth start to water as he watched her methodically suck every droplet of juice from her fingers. "It can be such a difficult time for a young lady. For me, all I wanted was for my husband to notice me. But he was far too important for that. I was so lonely. So utterly friendless. Then, one year we had a young Italian noble come stay with us. Oh how he opened my eyes! Oh my--!" She held up two fingers to her lips and cast a guilty glance at Philip. " I'm rambling!"

"Do go on!" Philip urged. 

She darted her eyes around to be sure no one else was listening. " Of course I'm only speaking to you as a friend in the strictest confidence! I do feel you and I have become friends have we not? You are an intimate of my dear friend Lady Evelyn so I know I can trust you not to repeat my silliness."

"I won't repeat a word!" He promised eagerly. "Do go on!" 

"To put it mildly-- he stole my heart! You swear you won't repeat this?"

"I swear!" Philip assured her eagerly as his pulse quickened to a dangerous level.

"I was young and foolish you see. I never knew men -- did that to women--" She leaned towards him and brought the pitless half of the plum towards her mouth and gave the hallowed center a gentle lick. "If ever a man wanted to put a woman in his spell-- well! "

In that moment, the rest of the room seem to recede in the background. All the chattering faded away till Philip could only hear his own heart beating loudly as he watch, spellbound, Lady Ann's pink tongue quivered at it teased the deep red fruit. He followed every lick, every stroke as she dragged her wet, quivering tongue around the hollow of the glistening fruit. When she closed her mouth over the top flesh to gently suck, Philip moaned deeply.

"Well!" she said dropping the rest of the fruit down on her plate. "All in the past now!"

"But what happened then?" he asked in desperation. "You were in love with him surely!"

"Deeply," she agreed. "And I would have given up everything for him too if he had asked. My honor, all my friends and family. But sadly he was lost at sea before we ever had a chance."

"How terribly sad!" he said with genuine sorrow. 

Lady Ann waved a hand in front of her face. It was nearly time for the ladies to go through to the parlor. "You are so good to indulge my little trip down memory lane. And do please never repeat what I've said. It's so shameful! To think that I had once nearly thrown everything away for-- well, to be worshiped like that!"

"But you would have given it all away had the Italian gentleman lived?" he asked eagerly. 

"Absolutely! He gave me the one thing every young lady ought to have but few will ever experience!" Lady Ann said.

Philip felt his stomach lurch and he quickly scrambled to his knees for the chamber pot. There was nothing left in him but still he retched into the foul pot. 

He was once more in his dark chamber. It has been several hours since his dinner chat with Lady Ann. He really couldn't recall what took place between then and when he had somehow made his way to Evelyn's chamber.

"Blimey! What have I done?" 

What if Evelyn had woken up when he had fled her room? What if she was seen? What if one of the servants had awoken by some strange sounds and saw him leave her room? What if his cousin had heard, seen--! The what ifs whirled around Philip, driving him to curl into himself with his arms tightly clasped around his body. 

"I must confess all," he whispered into the empty room. "I must own up to my sins and confess all to John and beg his forgiveness. Should he be merciful, or not, I swear I will never look at her. I will never covet anything that isn't mine ever again!"

Philip fought back his terror and another wave of nausea when he rose to his feet. He must face his cousin right then and there before he lost his nerve.

The study door stood slightly ajar and an orange glowing light streamed from the gap. He could hear muffled voices from within. 

One was a deep, rich, baritone that could only belong to one man. The other, much softer and lyrical was Evelyn's.

With sweat pouring down his forehead, Philip almost lost his nerve! He knew he ought to leave then. She must awoken and sensed something amiss, then brought her nighttime visit to Lord Davenport's attention. They must be putting together the pieces now and will soon discover that the visitor had been Philip! From the anger in their voices, that had to be it, Philip thought. He may has well face them and let the chips fall where they may!

Philip had only intended to pause for a moment to steady his nerve, but he couldn't help glance through the opening in the door first. 

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light and see the pair, in silhouette, standing before a roaring fire. Lord Davenport, dressed as he was earlier in the evening, had Evelyn's by her forearms. The force of his grip on her caused her large woven shawl to drop away and pool at her feet. Evelyn stood there in just a bellowing white nightgown with her long dark tresses hanging in cascading waved down her back. 

"--You'll come to regret the day you ever laid eyes on me!" Lord Davenport said, his deep voice rumbling in an angry growl. "Do not test me, madam with your games and manipulations!"

Evelyn tried to wrestle away from him. "You lout! Must you always see the worst in me?"

"What are you doing down here in the middle of the night if you didn't have some clandestine purpose? In nothing more than your nightgown no less?" he retorted with his face looming dangerously close over hers.

Her mouth dropped open then snapped shut again as she visibly started to tremble. 

"What Evelyn?" he asked sardonically with a sneer. "What were you about to say?"

"I don't know why I came down here. Perhaps it was a dream-- it must all have been a dream!" Evelyn replied miserably as she stared off into the distance. 

"Then let's have some understanding between us," Lord Davenport said. "You will not put yourself or my house in danger to satisfy your whims. I won't have you traipsing about the city alone anymore, or doing whatever you damn well please with no regards for the consequences. I can be a fair husband but I won't be an indulgent one!" 

"You'll just be a bullying one!" she shot back with seething hurt and anger .

Lord Davenport grabbed her by the chin to turned her face towards the fire light. He scowled darkly at the bruised mark still evident on her forehead. 

"A bully am I? What do you suppose would have happened to you if Philip and I had taken a different path that night? Christ, Evelyn! I don't care who your father is, when I'm your master you tame your childish willfulness and you follow my instructions without argument! Do you understand?"

Evelyn glared up at him despite the firm pressure of his fingers squeezing her cheeks. "I thank you for no longer accusing me of staging my own attack then," she said with an haughty lift of her chin. "In what form will these instructions come, pray? Be sure to enumerate them all at once, for I'd hate to accidentally flouting your authority, my lord. My lists of crimes are long enough in your eyes."

Lord Davenport's eyes narrowed at her words. He could have accused her of being facetious if she hadn't looked so stoic. He cursed, sighed heavily instead, when he released his hold on her. Fuming, he stood back with one fist on his hip, while he rubbed his forehead wearily with his free hand. "I've not had a moment of peace since that night I met you. What a fool I've been to want you-- Well, I have you now don't I?" 

"I--!" Evelyn hugged her arms to her chest as she swallowed back whatever she began to say. "Take care what you wish for I suppose," she said softly, half to herself.

Lord Davenport lifted his head to study her beneath his dark scowl. He no longer looked angry, merely thoughtful, admiring and sad all at once when his gaze traveled down the length of her. The thin nightgown bellowed around her but did little to conceal the outline of hourglass curves. He swallowed hard and tore his gaze her from. "I freely admit I misjudged you from the first.... It's my own fault, really. But here we are, you and I. We must do our duty. I will try my best to be a good husband, if you will respect your position as Lady Davenport."

Evelyn continued to hold herself tightly as she bowed her head to let her long wavy hair draped over her face. "I await your instructions, my lord," she replied tightly.

Several more emotions passed over Lord Davenport's noble mien as he studied her. He displayed none of his usual confidence as he stood there deep in thought as though he bore the world on his shoulders. Finally he turned back to the large table that served as his desk. He shuffled through some documents, absently, before tossed them aside again before planting his fists on the table and leaning forward on his arms. 

"You do have the willfulness of princes in your veins don't you? Very well I want to know why I find you out of bed at this hour, dressed, or undressed, as you are--" he said, his voice low and slightly shaky. "However, I won't press the matter if you don't want to tell me. But-- from here on forth, I expect you never to give me reason to question your movements, never to doubt you. I realize you are very young and this season has been very exciting for you--" 

He held up a hand when she opened her lips and were about to speak. "I know!" he continued. "--I know this is all very new and exciting for a young lady in her debut season, to be such a success... to have so many admirers.... I also know those admirers won't simply go away once we're married--"

Lord Davenport paused a moment to think on his next words. He pushed back from the table and walked over to the fireplace. He had his back to Evelyn but Philip could see clearly, from his hiding place, by the light of the glowing fire just what it cost Lord Davenport to make his speech. "I simply ask that you don't encourage any unnecessary attention, or invite gossip. I ask that if you are to find me unsatisfactory... well then if you would please, do not bring chaos into my house. Do not flaunt it in my face, if... if you chose to have a life of your own."

Out in the corridor, Philip felt almost light headed. So many thoughts and emotions rose up in him. It was as though Lord Davenport knew Philip was listening and was speaking directly to him! Philip did not have time to mull over this jumbling thought when Evelyn's clear voice, strong and forceful, cut through the air.

Evelyn's eyes sparkled in the dim light, face was flushed, her bosoms heaving in outrage. "What sort of man are you that you could talk about marriage and obedience and then tell me not to invite gossip?"

"Evelyn--!"

"How exactly? When everyone looks at me, I know you see my illegitimacy even as you weigh my influence. You've been wondering who my mother was... what sort of lineage she's passed on to me. Isn't that so? Isn't that when you had in mind when you tell me not to invite gossip? B-because someone like me could not possibly be honorable? " 

"I'm not accusing you -- I merely want us to understand each--" 




Duplicity Ch. 05



"Then I beg of you, sir, if you despise me so much, tear up that marriage contract and set me free! I will tell his Majesty that you found me wanting. I don't care. Don't subject both of us to a lifetime of misery. Please--!" A sharp hiccup caught Evelyn's throat cut her off in mid-rant and she covered her face, unable to continue. She won't cry in front of him! She simply mustn't! Yet hot, angry, frustrated tears welled up in her eyes and leaked through her fingers. 

Philip clenched his fists at the tightness in his chest to see her misery. No gentleman could remain cold and impervious to a woman's tears, and it certainly had it's affects on Lord Davenport. 

"I--I don't despise you," he objected softly as he came around the table and took several, measured strides towards her. When she shrank away and refused to look at him, he took her hands from her face and tilted her chin up to brush away her tears with his finger tips. "Forgive me, Evelyn. It's late and I'm ill tempered. This has been a most trying day--- . It's not my intention to make you unhappy. It's just... you wouldn't understand..."

"But I think I do!" she said with trembling lips. 

Evelyn tried to hold onto her hurt and anger with everything she had. One look at his handsome face though, she felt it all melt away. Lord Davenport loomed protectively over her as he cupped her face in both hands. His expression was kind and compassionate for once, without a trace of his usual arrogance. With one hand brushing back her hair, the other still cupped around her face, he splayed his long fingers over her left cheek and he slowly rubbed her chin and lips with his thumb so very gently and seductively. His eyes, so hypnotically light suddenly grew darker as he followed the movement of his thumb over the curve of her lips. 

"You confound me sir," she murmured in a raspy, dreamy voice against the caress of his thumb. "I suppose I'm only starting to come understand your lot. The aristocracy is exacted to be an example of righteousness and virtue, or so I was taught, but instead I sense hypocrisy everywhere! Perhaps if I were stronger, wiser, if I have any reason left in me at all, I would leave this place and go far, far...."

Out in the hall, Philip felt himself die inside as he watched Evelyn close her eyes and ever so slightly turn her face into Lord Davenport's caress and rubbed her cheek against his palm. It was a gesture that told Philip all he needed to know. Whatever hope Philip for Lady Evelyn just a moment ago, he saw on her face, in the way her whole body seemed electrified at Lord Davenport's touch, that he might well long for the moon instead. There was nothing more for Philip to see, to hear. He retreated from the door and silently, sadly went back down the corridor to his bedchamber once more.

Neither Lord Davenport nor Lady Evelyn noticed they had an audience, so lost they were in each other. 

"Go back to bed!" Lord Davenport croaked in a thick and husky voice, even as he dropped his forehead down against hers, while still caressing her face. He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth like a man in pain. "Do as I say-- for your own sake!"

Evelyn's breath grew ragged to hear the strain in his voice. She knew what it meant now and her heart suddenly skip a beat. A familiar chill ran deliciously down her spine even as her core burst into a hot, liquid flame. 

"God forgive me, but I can't! I shan't!" she cried from deep within her heart. Before the last words left her lips, he pulled her roughly to him and pressed an urgent kiss against her lips. 

The world melted away. There was no sound. There was no floor beneath her feet. All that existed were his lips... his tongue, hot and fervent, seeking out hers. Evelyn clung to his broad, muscular shoulders forcing him closer in her youthful greedy lust. She yelped a little when he suddenly picked her up. Her legs instinctively wrap around him waist. He walked the short distance to the enormous table and laid her gently down on top of it. Documents crinkles beneath them and a pot of ink fell and shattered on the floor. Neither of them noticed.

This was quite different from her dream, Evelyn thought wildly as his hands made their discovery of her body again. There was no gentleness, no teasing! He didn't hesitate to untie the ribbon of her nightdress and drew back the fabric to reveal her neck, shoulder and breasts. Hungerly he grabbed handfuls of her milky white, supple breasts and fed them to his eager mouth. Evelyn's eyes rolled back in her head and barely noticed when he climbed up on the table over her. He didn't simply kiss her, he devoured her! 

"Do you remember that night in the carriage?" he murmured hotly against her burning skin as his hands pulled up the hem of her gown to reveal her naked thighs. "Do you remember how I touched you down here?" 

Evelyn gasped out loud and jackknifed against him when he found her sex! "I cannot forget that evening, my lord," she moaned as she did her best to swallow her suddenly watering mouth. "I couldn't forget as hard as I tried... every moment... of every day!"

His fingers combed through her coarse and wiry pelt to make its way towards her slick, hot center. He slipped two fingers into her narrow, tight passage while kneading her with the heel of his palm so expertly that soon Evelyn was writhing and bucking against him. Her head rolled back and banged against the desk, but she was beyond caring. Nothing could soothe the ache in her save for his hand!

"I was wrong again," he said with a twitch of his lips. "I see I am to be the first, my lady." 

"This isn't proper!" she gasped, regaining her senses momentarily. She lost herself again when he bent over her to lick, and suck a little pert pink nipple into his mouth. "W-we're not married yet!" 

"What does it matter if it happens now or in a few days?" he replied absently while he twirled and pumped his fingers in and out of her till they could both hear the wet, suction her body made. 

She moaned when he took his hand away and then felt her heart pound loudly in anticipation and trepidation when he straddled her hips and rose upon his knees to deftly unfastened his trousers. The pain of first penetration shocked Evelyn from her stupor! 

He was seated deep inside of her with one swift upward stroke of his hips! Tears flooded her eyes and blinded her! Oh the tearing, the burning! It was unbearable!.... for several agonizing minutes before it turned into a dull, throbbing ache. This was it then! she thought wildly. He had conquered her, but then again she had all but thrown herself at him. Where was her pride? Where was her honor? a shrill voice in her head demanded.

"Oh no!" she cried helpless as he pushed her knees back against her chest and hiked her legs higher around his torso. She suddenly had a clear vision of how she must appear, spread wantonly across the top of the table, naked except for her nightgown bunched uselessly around her waist, while Lord Davenport, still fully clothed, was buried deep within her. Fresh tears sprang to her eyes as much from her own shame as from each deep, battering stroke of his ramming rod.

"My lord!" Evelyn squeaked as she bit her swollen lips as she gripped his thickly muscled arms. He scooped his arms around her slender and held her in place as he continued to drive up into her mercilessly... over and over. She squeezed her eyes shut to the pain and tried to turned her face away.

"Look at me, Evelyn," he panted as he captured her face to turn her back to him. "Look up at me!"

Evelyn turned her enormous eyes, filled with fresh tears, to look fearfully up at him. His handsome face was barely recognizable so intense he appeared, with his upper lip pulling back from his teeth in a snarl with each upward thrust. Each time he exhaled, his breath blew hotly down on her face.

"Stop! I don't want this!" she suddenly cried out. "STOP!"

With a sudden force that caught him by surprise, she pushed and pounded her little fists against his solid shoulders and chest. Her blows fell harmlessly against him, but he rolled off of her nevertheless. Evelyn winced at his withdrawal and the fury on his face as she quickly closed her aching legs, smoothed her skirt down with one hand and pulled up the neckline of her gown over her bare breasts with the other. 

"I didn't want this!" she said in a half whisper as she hugged her knees towards her chest.

He cursed angrily as he rose to his feet to glare down at her. 

"Don't you?" he shot back angrily, as he impatiently tucked his still achingly hard member back into his trousers again. "You came down here flaunting your little body at me. Then you won't leave when I asked you to--! I can smell just how much you want me. So don't tell me you don't want this!"

"I wasn't thinking," she mumbled humbly as she hide her face behind the veil of her hair in shame. "But this isn't---"

He dragged a hand over his face with a frustrated growl. It took several moment for him to compose himself as Evelyn waited, still hugging her knees on the table. When he turned his scowl back to her however, his gaze softened at how small and helpless she looked. 

"You little fool," he said, though not unkindly. "I suppose some part of me still thought of you as more a woman than you are. But you're not, are you? All this is all new to you. I didn't mean to frighten you-- it's all perfectly natural. I'll be more gentle, if only you'd tell me--" He bent down to kiss her cheek even as he reached for the neckline of her gown again. 

"Please-- wait!" Evelyn moaned when he peeled back her gown to cupped her milk white breasts. He uttered a small moan as he kissed his way down the curve of her neck. His touch, his kisses were simply intoxicating, but still Evelyn resisted. She had a nagging thought that simply couldn't be put aside, no matter how much he drove her to distraction. "Can we please talk!"

"Why?" 

"There are things I need to say to you," she replied with a frantic little sob when his hands roved over her thighs again. "Please listen! I-- I need you to understand my intentions--"

He raised his head to peer at her from beneath his heavy brows. "I'm getting to know you now," he retorted with barely restrained impatience as he pried her thighs apart again. 

He wetted two fingers in his mouth and eased his digits into her tender and sore passage. So tight! So hot! So unbelievably wet! At Evelyn's throaty and lustful moan when his long fingers worked in and out, in then out of her sore pussy, a corner of his lips pulled back in a knowing grin. His stroking grew faster and faster till nothing else matter but what his fingers were doing to her. 

"Stop," she whimpered again, barely conscious of anything else but the delicious feeling he was coaxing out of her. "Please my lord. I must say my peace."

"Tell me you don't like what I'm doing to you," he murmured, into her ear with an arrogant smirk. "Tell me you don't want me to stop... and I will!" 

She uttered a small strangled sob against his chest and clung helplessly to his powerful, muscled body. "How can I possibly make you understand? You control me so utterly wherever you happen to be. You're in my dreams. You're in my every waking thought! It hurts me more than it ought to know that you constantly think the worst of me. That it is only lust you feel when you see me! Oh what does it matter?"

He gathered her tighter against him, and kissed and nuzzled against the curve of her neck. 

"My lord, I'm desperate! In spite of it all... ev--even if I haven't been betrothed to you, could you ever-- look at me, and, and think well of me?"

He chuckled lightly. "I will if you'll be a good girl and part these thighs again!"

Evelyn bit back another sob. "'I'll do everything you ask of me. I'll obey you as my lord and master, willingly! And maybe one day, you'll think better of me, even if you can never love me... the way you loved Clara!"

No sooner than she had uttered that name than Lord Davenport released her-- No! He practically flung her away from him as he stepped away from the table! 

"What did you say?" he asked in a low voice. 

Within an instant his expression hardened. Gone was the man who only a moment ago looked at her like a hungry man before a feast. Now his icy blue eyes were clear and dangerous. A thick vein running down the side of his temple throbbed and grew more pronounced. He was as imperious and cold as she had ever seen him.

Evelyn nervously bit her lower lip. She shuddered at how cold the room suddenly felt as the fire have long since burned itself into just a few glowing embers.. 

"Who told you about... Clara? " he asked in a low voice that echoed through the valued chamber.

Evelyn swallowed hard, suddenly more terrified of him than she had ever been before.

"Was it Charlotte or Philip?" he asked through clenched teeth. 

She couldn't bear to meet his cold, hard glare. "I'm sorry! I -I didn't realize she was a secret."

"Hardly," he said, taking a breath to draw himself to his full height as he continued to glare down at her. "BUt why was she brought up?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Oh, I'm riveted!"

Evelyn swallowed hard. She frankly couldn't recall who spoke of that name first to her. It must have been Charlotte or even her friend, Lady Ann in some off-handed way. "I suppose I may have heard her name mentioned in passing. The way she was spoken of made me want to know more. I thought perhaps she might have been the reason that you stayed away all this time. I remember asking Charlotte to tell me who she is, or was. I gathered that you loved her very much---"

After a brief silence he upper lip curled into a humorless smirk. 

"What stupid romantic notions you women have!" he intoned archly. "Charlotte drudged up some ancient history so you would live out some silly romance you women like to read? You need to find some reason from my past to make yourself the heroine in this story? After awhile you'll melt my cold heart and make a new man of me? Is that it?"

Evelyn winced slightly at his scorn. "Do you still love her then?"

"Who, Clara? I suppose... once. Promises were made at least. What did Charlotte tell you exactly?"

Evelyn drop her eyes to her nervous hands wringing in her lap. "Just that she was your greatest love. 

Lord Davenport crossed over to the fireplace and selected a cigar from an ornate silver box. With slow, deliberate movements he set about lighting the thing. Evelyn waited with baited breath as he first bit off one end of the cigar, spat the bit into the fireplace, before he pursed his lips around the fresh cigar. There was a sharp hiss when he struck a match and the air was instantly filled with the sharp smell of burning sulfur. She watched him hunch his shoulders as he cupped the lit match in his hands to light his cigar. Every follicle of her hair tingled with impatient when he took his time to shake out the match, take a deep drag from the cigar, tilted back his head before blowing several silvery blue rings towards the ceiling. 

"I was very young when I met Clara." He finally flicked his gaze back down to her with ribbons of silvery smoke curling up around him. Neither his tone or expression betrayed any emotion as he spoke. "Her father was my tutor. There was just the two of them and they lived on our estate for the better part of my childhood. Everyone felt I was foolish and set my sights too low with her. I couldn't be dissuaded. First love and all. I would have married her if her father was a butcher. So we made our promises to each other."

He took another drag from the cigar and blew a column of smoke upwards. "One winter the Fever took my mother's life. By that spring Clara had married my father." 

He leveled his hard, penetrating stare upon her again and she felt her stomach flip. He may have been speaking of the weather, so impassive was his expression. Yet to hear him speak so stoically, almost casually, broke Evelyn's heart and she felt her eyes well up with tears. "Oh my lord!"

"I suppose she couldn't help herself. Had she married me she'd still be waiting to be a duchess as the old bastard refuses to die," he quipped with a slight shrug of his shoulders. He drew deeply on the cigar again. "So much for all her promises to love me."

"Clara... she... she is your step-mother?!"

"Was. She lasted only three years. The unpredictable factors in life and all. So Charlotte decided to relay that bit of family history?" His upper lip curled once more into a disdainful smirk as he studied her with his penetrating glare, as she crawled off the table to stand beside it. "It's not great secret I'm afraid. Sorry. And many have forgotten it by now as it's really not that interesting. There aristocracy is full of salacious scandals after all. Throw the bait of money, land and title and all sorts of interesting dramas will play out. Then again, you ought to know."

"I wish I never asked."

"I'm sure you are full of curiosity, my darling girl. Hopefully next time you'll uncover some truly juicy family secrets from my cousins. Something more relevant and salacious to entice your imagination!"

"They would never say anything that isn't in praise of you!" she said defensively.

"I'm sure," he muttered with some bitterness.

"Please!" she plead, holding up her palms as he stalked towards her. 

His hypnotic eyes bore into her as he cradled her in one arm and walked her back till she was trapped between him and the edge of the large, ornately table. He sucked in his lower lip as he dragged his gaze, deliberately up and down the curves of her body. It was a heated, lustful examination, with none of the tenderness from before.

Even so, he overpowered her and made her head spin with the sheer force of his presence. Every hair on her body seemed to tingle and a thin layer of sweat formed on her skin. Evelyn breathed in his clean masculine scent so close to her that she could have easily reached out to his muscular chest beneath his linen shirt. 

He hadn't moved.

Lord Davenport took another deep drag from his cigar and blew a column of smoke down her cleavage and watched, amused, as the thick smoke broke apart into ribbons over her supple mounds. A torrent of hot fluids pouring down her legs that made her feel light headed and faint. 

"What else have you been doing with your day?" he asked, his velvety baritone husky and low. "Tell me what delightful moments you and Philip shared. He's quite taken by you." 

Evelyn's long, thick, curled lashes fluttered. Her mouth was dry and her mind turned to mush. "He tells me stories from your childhood together... how happy you all were."

"I'm sure Philip spun quite the beautiful tale for you." 

Abruptly he tossed his cigar into the fireplace and spun her around till she nearly fell forward if he hadn't caught her around her waist! She felt him grab a fistful of her silk tresses and pull her back against his chest. 

"Please!" she begged.

"Did you like his stories?" he purred into her ear. "He's got quite a flair for poetry." 

Evelyn swallowed hard and ran her tongue over her dry lips. "I care little for poetry."

"No, you'd rather hear about Clara." He buried his face in her fragrant silky hair and inhaled deeply but his voice lost none of it's edge. 

"I want to know you," she confessed. "I want to know everything about you." 

"Well then, my lady, I'll tell you about me. Clara marrying my father was just the vehicle that drove me to the Continental wars. Do you want to hear what I did there? Do you want the full numbers of men killed and maimed or would you rather I tell you about the times I nearly forfeited my own life? You want a vivid description of the sights and the smell? Or would you care to know the failed battle strategies devised by your father's best generals. Do you know how many men were sacrificed for your father's need for glory? Too complicated for your womanly sensibilities? How about if I described all the times I ate rats, tree barks and lived like an animal to survive? All the while I lived with the stink of death caked on me. These hands that caress your milky, unstained skin? They use to crack with dried blood. Should I go on? Have I shocked yoru delicate sensibilities yet? No, I think not!. I think you want to hear about the blood and gore. You want to know all my darkness and be a miserable creature for you to mend. Isn't that so?"




Duplicity Ch. 05



Evelyn gave a little surprised yelp when he abruptly bumped his hips against her, sending her falling forward over the table. Several sheets of paper fluttered to the floor. She tried to push up on her elbows but he had her trapped there.

"Where are you going? Don't you want to hear more?" he taunted her as he grounded his hips harshly against her buttocks. 

"Please stop," she plead with a terrified sob. 

He bent over her till he sank his heavy body every so slightly down on hers again. "You don't want me to stop. You don't want me to be kind even, do you?"

"What does it matter what I want?" she nearly shouted. 

"No it doesn't, my dearest girl. To put it bluntly, you were given to me as a reward for my years of loyal service. A consolation for all my suffering!"

"I'm thinking it's less about rewarding you and more about punishing me," she heard herself retort.

That remark brought a genuine smile to Lord Davenport's face. He leaned over her and caressed her silky hair from the back of her neck. "What have you done then, that deserves punishment? Have you been naughty my darling? Asking Charlotte to tell you things about me? Batting your lashes at Philip to do your bidding? I do believe my cousin has lost his heart to you"

She offered no resistance at all when he pulled up her gown once more to expose her hips and almost didn't notice when he ran his hands over her smooth rounded buttocks. He picked up a part of her gown and thoughtfully rubbed a dark stain of her virginal blood between his fingers. A ghost of a smile passed over his lips.

"What? Nothing to say, Evelyn? You were full of words before. You had a purpose in mentioning Clara, didn't you? Come! Show me how you're like no other woman on earth and you'll make me forget all crimes committed against me. You see, I've heard it before, but don't worry, I don't mind it at all. Especially with what follows. Show me just how tenderly you can make me forget Clara! Let me back inside!" 

She felt him reach down to unfasten his trousers, and free his manhood, hard and swollen, once more. 

"P-please!" she finally gasped somewhere between pain and pleasure. "Please-- my lord--have pity on me!"

He merely sighed... deeply.

White hot pain shot through her core. His turgent member was thrusted up into her tight and swollen canal again and send her back arching and writhing in pain! It seemed so improbable but it hurt more than the first time. He was thrusting himself brutally into her, deeper and deeper, stretching her in a sharp, searing pain! Evelyn's lips opened in a silent scream but no sound came out. She couldn't breathe from the sheer thickness and length he was forcing into her little body. 

Lord Davenport had to retrain himself when he kissed his way up the swell of her generous white orbs, to the hollow of her neck, till he tasted her salty tears on her cheeks. He raised his head a moment and narrowed his eyes at her face, contorted in anguish. He gripped her hips, then rotated his own pelvis against her in a swift downward stroke. 

Evelyn's eyes flew open, then rolled to the back of her head and her lips formed an "O" when she shrieked at the new sensation! What new torment was this? But it was not pain she felt. It was... something akin to... nothing else she's ever felt before! He did it again! Then again! And again! Suddenly her hips buck up to meet his thrusts of their own accord and she flung herself over his neck and bite his shoulder. When he smoothed back her silky curls from her tear-streaked face, he recognize her conflicted look of agony and pleasure. 

The force of his thrusts sent Evelyn's body writhing and arching on the hardwood surface till the heavy table itself started to rock and tap out a rhythmic pattern. 

Evelyn moaned out loud as she clawed his shirt front and tore at it. He tightened his hold on her hips with both hands and pulled her back to meet his thrusts, deeper and deeper. Sweat trickled down his forehead, down the strained muscles of his neck to disappear into his already damp and matted dark, wiry chest hair.

"My GOD!" she moaned deep and low as her passion poured from her body and drown him in it's slick, wet heat. 

He knew exactly when she reached her peak. Years of experience made him particularly sensitive to the signs of a woman in the throes of a soul-shattering orgasm. What he didn't anticipate was the force with which her liquid heat scorched him and grab hold of him. He always came when he was good and ready, but sweet little Evelyn made fast work of his self control. He was caught off guard and completely unprepared when a white-hot bolt tore through him and he broke loose in a torrential roar! Waves after waves of pleasure ripped from him and he cried out from deep within his chest with the sheer force of his own release!

Evelyn gasped slightly when he slumped over her in exhaustion. She inhaled deeply, his clean masculine scent and the aroma of their lovemaking and released a shaky sigh. 

"Peace!" she urged her troubled heart. "Let us have a moment of peace between us. Even if it's short and fleeting. Let me not think on how cruel it is for him to make me love him so hopelessly and desperately! He may abandon me tomorrow and leave me utterly ruined and I know I will still love him! Tomorrow! I won't think about tomorrow but live in this moment... with him still buried so deep inside of me... and I'll pretend, for a moment longer, that he is mine. Entirely mine!" 

To be continued...



Duplicity Ch. 06



Hey!

I know I know it's been a while... so sorry for the wait. I swear I try to churn these chapters out quickly but sometimes it just doesn't happen. True, we're all busy and all that jazz but sometimes it just doesn't come to me. I'll stare at my computer screen for hours not knowing how in the hell to start. And then I'll get a little note from an anonymous person saying, "Where are you?" or "Update soon". And that gives me the little extra boost I need to continue. So whoever you are, out there encouraging me... thank you!

If you want to know the progress of the next chapter, I'll always leave little updates on my profile page and/ or as a comment at the end of the last chapter (got the idea from Mimirose- hope you don't mind if I borrow it girl!). On that note, I'm SOOO glad to be back... missed you guys. Please let me know what you think of this chapter. Thanks again to honeybree for her awesome editing... I'd be lost without ya!

*

It must have been a dream.

Everything was quiet and still. The sunlight peeked through the blinds as an intruder enticing her to rise. She was in a drunken haze of sleep, where her eyelids were heavy as bricks.

It must have been a dream.

The folds of the rumpled sheets mimicked her confused state of mind, going in every direction but the straight one. She'd slept so soundly, without any disturbance from her unconscious past. She had forgotten what that was like, to sleep so soundly.

It was the most delicious dream. Merle was there but she couldn't see him. She recognized his voice, his smell, his touch. The way his breath seemed shallow every time he caressed her. The way his full lips traveled down her neck. The way his hands seemed to always find her most sensitive spots.

She couldn't see him but she just knew it was him.

Merle.

Layla stirred not quite ready to get up. It was then that she felt it, the tell-tale ache between her thighs. Her sensitive breasts softly rubbed the silk sheet covering her. Her pussy still twitched from last night's performance. She let out an involuntary moan as she touched herself. Softly rubbing in slow small circles. She felt a little raw, knowing it was because of the spectacular fucking she had.

She smiled, enjoying the euphoric aftermath of last night's events.

Being blindfolded and tied was something she thought she'd never do. To give up control and completely put faith in another; was terrifying and exhilarating. Layla didn't even know it was something she longed for.

She licked her lips relishing the memory.

He tamed her body in ways she couldn't understand but always yearned for. In and out he entered her as he made her body sing. In and out he tortured her, stoking her deepest desires to life. The way his hot breath peppered kisses up her inner thighs. How he firmly held her waist down when she thought she couldn't take anymore unrestrained pleasure. In and out his hot pulsing cock seared into her and claimed her as his. Layla let out an involuntary shudder of ecstasy.

It was more than pleasure she received last night.

In and out, Merle wove his way inside her body, heart and soul. And with it, left a feeling she never thought possible. She felt...

Free.

Layla smiled. It wasn't a dream after all.

She stretched and extended her arm expecting to find him still there. But there was no one there, just the lonely expanse of a cold bed.

She expected to start her day with one of Merle's delicious kisses. She stepped out of the bed and gingerly walked towards the bathroom.

Empty.

That's... unexpected.

Layla's hands ran through her hair. There she was, being silly as always, overthinking things. Surprisingly she brushed those negative thoughts away and she got ready for her day.

Languidly she took a shower, got dressed and headed downstairs.

When Layla arrived in the kitchen, she realized there was a flurry of activity in the house. She could hear laughter and muffled conversation coming from the courtyard. The families weren't set to arrive for another week. So it must be the maid of honor Nicole and the best man John.

Day dreaming about Merle would have to wait; there was a long list of things she had to do today.

She walked toward the voices with her iPad handy. She wanted to meet Nicole and John and go through some pertinent wedding details with them.

...

"Yo, this place is amazing. Look at the size of this thing. For fucks sake Jason, no wonder you don't wanna come back to New York."

"Thanks man. But you'd be surprised how much we miss the City. Sienna and I will probably head back a couple weeks after the wedding. We want the baby to be born there."

Sienna linked her arm with Nicole's and skipped a little ahead of them. They stopped and looked at each other and let out an excited squeal. They were both grinning from ear to ear.

Nicole sighed and said, "Oh my God! I can't believe I'm finally here with you. It feels like I haven't seen you in forever."

"I know I'm so happy you're here. I feel like I'm complete now." Sienna was elated her best friend had finally arrived. "Come; let me show you what's been done so far."

They walked around as Sienna gestured. "So here where we'll be standing, this will be where the cocktails are served. And over there we'll have the ceremony with the backdrop of the sea. And the reception will be under this big tent."

"Oh, very nice."

Just then Sienna saw Layla walking out toward them. She smiled at her and called her closer.

"Nic, John, this is Layla our fabulous wedding planner. She's been a God-send and you are required to do as she says." Sienna said as she pointed at John.

"Hey, I got no problem with that." John rang out. "Mm-hmm. Hello there, gorgeous. I have to say, there's beauty all around this island but you... are by far the most stunning creature I have ever seen." John took her hand and kissed the back of it.

"Whatever you need, I'm available..." He whispered as his lips hovered over her hand.

Nicole muttered something indistinguishable in Spanish. She turned on her heels and walked away with her camera. She busied herself by snapping shots of the view.

Layla forced a smile but it was really a grimace. This guy doesn't waste any time, does he? Ugh, he was barking up the wrong tree.

He was handsome enough, with his bright blue eyes and blond hair. But he wasn't even close to the man branded in her mind. She didn't want to be rude but she felt like making a puke face and letting him have it.

But of course she instead said in a professional tone, "Yes well, there will be plenty to do. I'll need both the best man and the maid of honor help with-."

Layla inhaled and exhaled and counted to three. "Can-I-have-my hand back please?" She said through clenched teeth. He was really testing her nerves.

"Oh sure, sure whatever you say sweetheart."

At John calling her sweetheart, Layla straightened herself and unconsciously glanced around for Merle. She wished he was there; he'd probably tell this guy to fuck off.

Sienna chuckled and walked over to Jason.

"What the hell has gotten into John?"

"No clue. He doesn't even say shit like that."

"Well apparently he does. Layla is looking at him like he has the plague and Nicole looks like she's about to strangle him."

"My boy just got here and he's already leaving an impression with the ladies." Jason chuckled. "Now all that's left is for Merle to gang up on him. Where is my dear cousin by the way?"

"Not sure, I haven't seen him since last night. I hadn't had a chance to tell him Nicole was coming in a little early."

Sienna and Jason showed Nicole and John their respective rooms. Since they were jetlagged, they agreed to let them rest and meet up again for dinner.

After leaving them Sienna decided to go look for Merle and make sure he was ok. He'd been increasingly distant from her. It seemed that spark of excitement of having him back had dwindled. And Sienna, the ever worrisome one, was on edge about the whole thing.

She walked towards his room and softly knocked once.

No answer.

She knocked a second time.

No answer.

She knocked again and whispered through the door, "Please... let me in." She didn't know why but she just knew he was in there.

After 2 minutes of waiting, Sienna was about to knock again but the door opened. There was no one on the other side which meant he was tucked behind it.

When she walked through, she was surprised to see he was just Sean. In broad daylight.

No disguise.

Not a hint of Merle on him.

Just Sean.

He looked flushed and was breathing heavy like he'd been working out. He wore a white tank top and black sweats. His forehead had tiny beads of sweat forming and his strong arms glistened.

"Hey." She quietly said.

"Hey."

"How are you doing?"

Sean nonchalantly shrugged.

"You want to talk about it?"

"Nope."

"Listen I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to tell you Nicole was coming in today. We got a late night call they were on their way here because they caught a more direct route."

Sean sighed. "It was bound to happen sooner or later."

Silence.

Sienna smirked. "So where is Merle this fine morning? You sent him into early retirement?"

He rolled his eyes.

"Then..."

"Needed a little break, that's all. But we'll be ready to go by dinnertime."

Wordlessly he turned and walked towards the large window. He pulled out a cigarette from a pack on the nightstand and lit up. The agility in which he lit it, took a long drag, and exhaled; surprised Sienna. It was another reminder of how much had changed in the years they'd been apart.

"Since when do you smoke?"

"I don't."

The smoke gently floated from his mouth and nose towards the window breeze.

Sienna observed as a turbulent storm brewed in Sean's cloudy turquoise eyes. His eyebrows tightly gathered as he focused on his guarded thoughts.

"You know the last time I smoked I was with my buddy Mikhail." He bitterly chuckled. "That fucker would smoke in his sleep if he could. I stopped 2 years ago, tried to convince him to do the same but... some things can never change."

Sienna looked at her brother with concern but felt frustration as he was always so vague. She wished she could just rip this shit he's carrying inside out of him! Being completely powerless to help him was something she wasn't ready to admit. Unfortunately for him, that just renewed Sienna's campaign to get through to him.

She would not lose him again.

That was not an option.

In Sienna's oblivious world, there wasn't a problem that couldn't be fixed and every story should have a happy ending.

Slowly she raised her left hand towards him. The back of it touched his warm cheek but continued and swiftly plucked the cigarette out of his mouth.

Sean's eyes flickered towards her impassively; un-phased by her actions.

She smashed the end and threw the butt out of the window.

"It's not good for the baby." She huffed.

Sean shrugged, "Fuck it."

His blank stare was fixated out of the window. Seemingly out of habit, he played with the lighter, striking it on and off. The clicking noise echoed in the room. She never noticed his room had a perfect view of the courtyard below. It was tucked away so you couldn't tell from looking up. Surely he'd seen Nicole and John arrive.

Finally Sean turned and grabbed the shiny silver flask from his bedside table. As he raised it to his lips, his defiant gaze pierced hers... daring her to say something about it. He chugged some drink down, grateful for its bitter strength.

They seemed to be in a silent battle. One that Sean was currently winning.

"Just talk to me Sean... Let me in."

Silence.

"When is the last time you saw him... your friend Mikhail?" She asked, trying to get him talking again.

"I went to see him just before meeting you in Athens. He lives in a little town called Oymiakon in Siberia." Sean grinned. "The temperatures there get so cold, your ass tingles even through the thickest layers. I got injured on the way to see him but luckily there are still some decent people in this world. They took care of me and helped me get to where I needed to go."

Sean briefly smiled at the memory.

Suddenly his eyebrows furrowed. Small droplets of sweat quickly fell down his cheek, one after the other. He softly shook his head from side to side as his eyes widened. "No!"

He roughly grabbed her by the shoulders and Sienna gasped. There was a haunted way in which he looked that unnerved her. His eyes drilled into hers.

"Listen, if something happens to me he is the only person you can trust. These people that are after me, they're really bad people Cece. They'll stop at nothing to get to me. Mikhail Popov and 423267. Remember that name and that code. He is the only one you talk to. You'll be safe knowing that code. Got it? Tell me. Tell me you'll remember!"

Sienna looked at him in confusion and disbelief.

He looked... completely helpless.

Not to mention he was almost squeezing her too hard. His strong grasp had his arms' veins throbbing while his right temple ticked in the most distracting way.

"Ok I got it. Mikhail Popov... 4-2-3-2-6-7."

Sean deeply sighed. "Ok. Ok good, good."

Sienna wiggled herself still in his tight grip. "Sean..." She said quietly.

Sean's expression quickly changed to embarrassment and fear. He didn't even realize he was holding her tightly. "Fuck Cece, I'm sorry. I-I-"

She forced a bright smile and brushed his comment off; while she quickly rubbed her arms in relief. There was a sliver of fear that coursed through her. Not of him but for him.

"It' ok Sean. I know this is important. I'm glad to see you're not a skinny little wimp anymore but I can still take you." She said to lighten the mood.

Sean gazed out the window deep in thought not really listening to her. He wanted to be alone.

"I'm tired. I think I'm gonna take a nap." He gave Sienna the most exhausted look he could muster, hoping it would do the trick and compel her leave.

"Oh ok." She turned on her heels and started walking away. But instead of continuing towards the door she stopped at his bed. She was not leaving him alone.

Oh no, the fuck she is not, he groaned inwardly. His dear sister sat right down on his bed, put her feet up and made herself comfortable.

"You can take your nap while I watch a movie." She said grabbing the TV remote while wiggling herself into a perfect spot. Watching movies was always their favorite pastime.

"The fuck? How am I supposed to fucking rest with that shit on?"

Sienna snorted, "Please... You can sleep through a hurricane. You won't even know I'm here."

Sean ran his hands over his face partly in frustration, mostly in surrender. "Don't you have some wedding shit to do?"

Sienna rolled her eyes. "That 'wedding shit'... can wait. You're not getting rid of me that easy."

Sean knew Sienna was as stubborn as they come; a signature family trait.

Sean sighed, "You're annoying as fuck, you know that?"

Sienna smiled and shrugged, "It's my job. Now go take a shower... you stink."

Sean couldn't help but chuckle. "Do I now?"

"Yep, you do."

Sean took a sniff at his armpits and exaggeratedly said, "I fucking smell like roses." His smile got wider as he stepped closer and closer to her.

"Sean, what are you doing? No, get away from me."

"Don't you dare, Sean."

"I'm warning you! I'm going to kick your ass... if you step any closer to me!!"

But Sean just laughed as he reached her. He closed his armpit over her face in a fake chokehold; a move he would often do when they were kids. His soft armpit hairs tickled her nose. Sienna let out a disgusted scream. Her frustration made him laugh even harder.

"You wanna stay here now, Mmm?"

He finally let her go and she gasped for breath. "Ugh!! You asshole. You're fucking disgusting!" She said in between breaths.

Sean tutted disapprovingly, "Such language."

In frustration, she punched him in the stomach but flinched when her hand met with what seemed to be a solid wall. Sean shook his head and chuckled.

"Ouch. Stop. You're hurting me." Sean said in a deadpanned voice.

He started to walk away and said, "Geez Cece, you used to pack more punch than that. This baby is turning you into a wimp."

With a grunt Sienna threw a pillow that landed directly between his eyes. The pointy edge of the pillow narrowly missed his right eye. With a surprise, he stumbled to the floor and let out a "Fuck!"

"Take that."

From the floor Sean slowly raised his arms in surrender, similar to how he would when he was 10.

"Ok ok I give. Truce?"

Sienna mischievously grinned, "Truce... but you have to kiss my feet."

"Pfff! Please... yea right."

"Well at least go take a shower..."

Sean rolled his eyes and sighed. He mumbled something about her being worse than mom and walked towards his bathroom.

"Don't forget to scrub... with lots of soap."

Sean shot her his middle finger before going in the bathroom.

Sienna chuckled and a flutter of happiness ran through her. Ok this was progress. This was her Sean; crazy lovable annoying Sean.

Aimlessly she flipped through the channels for a movie while she waited for him to come out. She stopped at one where there was a man who ran through the woods in a very cold looking place. There was thick white snow everywhere. The man had been shot and he was running for cover. His white snow boots crunched the hard snow as he ran to a safe place by a frozen river. The man looked tired and was losing energy.

Within minutes Sienna's eyelids fluttered closed. Before she slipped into a peaceful slumber, she heard the man asking for help to find someone he was looking for.

When Sienna woke some hours later, the movie had finished and she was alone. She sighed. What was she going to do with him? She flicked through the channels and briefly thought of the movie she'd been watching. It seemed familiar. But those action flicks were basically all the same.

She got up and looked for Sean. She checked the gym, the kitchen, the courtyard... and he was nowhere to be found. She asked the housekeepers if they had seen Merle. They hadn't.

That uneasy feeling was back.

Sienna shook her head. Maybe her baby hormones were making her more paranoid than she needed to be... She was sure he was fine.

_________________

Layla walked around surveying the area. She needed to visualize the event in her mind to make sure she covered all her bases. But the truth was she was distracted.

Was Merle regretting their time together? Layla's thoughts ran wild and then she realized she was being unreasonable. As far as she could tell nothing had changed. Merle probably just had some important things to tend to that morning. She concentrated at her task on hand. In the distance she saw a figure moving about in the bar area.

"Oh, hello!" Layla called out. "Eleni, would you mind coming here a minute?"

The short plump woman came towards her without hesitation. A permanent smile always graced her softly wrinkled face. Her jet black hair streaked with gray was tightly secured in a low bun. Eleni enjoyed her job as a housekeeper. She was good at it and her employers were kind and fair; nothing like her old job.

"Yes, Ms. Layla?" Eleni lightly accented voice was soft and motherly.

"Would you happen to know where the long measuring tape is?"

"Oh no! I'm so sorry Ms. Layla. I borrowed it and forgot to bring it back."

"That's alright, please tell Takis to pick another one up on his way into town this afternoon."

"Ok I'm so sorry for the inconvenience, Ms. Layla."

Layla softly shook her head and waved her hand to halt her apology, "It's ok, really. Not a problem at all."

Eleni sighed in relief. Suddenly she lifted her index finger as an idea came to her. Her hands were well-worn but feminine. "But you know... I'm going to ask Mr. Merle if by chance he brought it back."




Duplicity Ch. 06



Author's note: Immensely grateful for all the feedback. Hope you continue to find this little story amusing and fun. As I may have mentioned, this chapter is not strictly noncon/reluctance but I kept it under this category for continuity. Hope you continue to enjoy the efforts of this amateur writer. Please do send your thoughts and feedback. 

Cheers all!

***************************

Lord Davenport scooped up Evelyn, limp and exhausted, in his arms and carried her to a sofa by the fireplace. The fire had burnt down to smoldering embers. He laid her down and cover her with her wool shawl and brushed a lock of hair back from her adorable sleeping face. 

Ah, the young! Full of energy one minute, quickly fatigued the next. 

He smiled warmly as he brushed the back of his fingers over the curve of her smooth cheek and swiped the tip of her little nose. Her long thick lashes fluttered for a moment, but her eyes remained shut as she sank further into a deep sleep. 

He left her there to gather up the crumpled leaflets of papers scattered at the foot of his desk. One sheet in particular caught his attention and he laid the rest aside. There wasn't enough light to make out what was written on that sheet, but he didn't need to read it to know its content. It was a neatly itemized list of Lady Evelyn's worth. A stunning dowry that, even with his already considerable wealth, made Lord Davenport catch his breath a bit. 

He remembered the moment Prince Edward produced the list. 

"I trust a man of your stature will neither be intimidated nor corrupted by all this," Prince Edward said with a chuckle. "A lesser man will find excess unavoidable."

Lord Davenport gave the list a brief glance. What he felt he kept to himself as he kept his eyes tracked on the prince as he tucked the list into the breast pocket of his jacket. "And what's to be expected from me, Highness?"

Prince Edward either didn't understand his meaning or feigned ignorance. "It's yours my lord! Your bride's dowry. Do with it as you like. Hell! Throw it all on a game of cards if you'd like as we both know you're plenty rich."

"And what's do you expect from me in return?" Lord Davenport asked again. 

"Why, you're simply the best match for my little sister. We share some distant blood do we not? I believe your lineage trace back to the Conqueror. I simply couldn't find another man with your fortitude to suit Evelyn!"

"Here I was so certain it was my charming disposition," Lord Davenport replied wryly. 

The young prince shrugged off the remark. His expression suddenly turned serious and solemn for once. "I think the villain who attacked Evelyn might have acted out of sheer opportunity and drunken lunacy, is what I think."

Lord Davenport's chin jerked and his jaw clenched tightly at the mention of that fateful night.

The prince nodded in agreement to what he saw on the Marquess' s face. "Can't be sure of anything though can we? With all the migrants flowing in from the country daily... the ones too drunk and useless to work in those hulking factories they have up north now. They'll happily slit anyone's throat to feed their disgusting appetites. You could hardly blame the filthy animal any more than you can blame blame a dog for biting, seeing a young lady, out alone at night- ."

"I assume this ties in with the proposed reform measures somehow," Lord Davenport guessed.

Prince Edward held up a hand. "I'm not one for politics," he protested. "My sole concern is for Evelyn. While part of me is certain it was just some crime of opportunity, I can't be entirely certain can I? Can you, my lord? She'll be yours after all."

"Measures are in place. She's safe in my care," Lord Davenport said.

The prince nodded, but something else still troubled him. "My little sister is very beautiful as I'm sure you've heard. Well, I don't need to tell you, you know how women are. Like nearly all beautiful women she can be willful and stubborn with a childish streak. Her curse being she's awfully bright too so I must urge you to protect her and keep her safe, even- no! ESPECIALLY from herself. "

Lord Davenport had lowered his chin but flicked his steely gaze up to the prince again. "Do you propose I cage her, Highness?"

Prince Edward's expression brightened once more and he chuckled humorously. "I see I'm on dangerous grounds. I wouldn't presume to tell any man how to handle his own affairs. I'm merely- well I feel it my duty to make you aware of certain facts."

"Speak plainly, sir! Is she prone to madness?"

"Not at all! But! Evelyn may from time to time get it into her pretty head to go looking for her mother. I don't need to tell you the litany of reasons why she wasn't successful and won't ever be successful. I think you can guess why such a thing would not be in anyone's interest."

"No doubt," the Marquess replied. "While I can keep her physical person from harm, how do you propose I should keep a daughter from seeking her own mother?"

"Lord Davenport ought to have no trouble controlling his wife, I should think. But, I've been told nothing occupies a woman's mind better than children of her own!"

Some remnants of a shattered cut-crystal tumbler crunched under Lord Davenport's boots, pulling his mind back to the present.

"Fuck!" he cursed then looked over at the sleeping Evelyn a short distance away.

"Nothing is ever done without forethought" he whispered at her. "We're all pawns in some great scheme aren't we?" 

Lord Davenport sought out a fresh glass and poured himself a splash of deep amber colored whiskey. He looked at the list again, then back at the sleeping young woman before shutting the sheet away in a drawer. With one hand hooked in the waistband of his trousers, he held the whiskey tumbler before him and lightly swirled the amber liquid within the crystal glass. 

The air was permeated with the smell of smoke wafting from the smoldering embers in the fireplace. The lateness of the hour, the smoke mixed with the tangy smell of sweat and sex invaded his senses and made him feel more intoxicated than he ought to. His tired, sore eyes looked around the heavily shadowed room. Nothing seemed real. Nothing... except for her!

Evelyn was all feminine curves and angelic beauty. She slept on her side with her delicate little hands clasped together and tucked beneath the curve of her dewy cheek. Her hair, like ribbons of black silk, fanned around her alabaster skin. The shawl that covered her slipped down her shoulders. Every short breath she took, the swells of her breasts pushed up against the crook of her folded arms. With some effort, he fought the urge to lean down and flick his tongue over her supple globes and suck on her pretty pink nipples. Instead he sat down and laid her slender little feet on his lap. Just then, her lips parted and her little wet, pink tongue darted out to lick her lips. That little motion filling his mind with a vision of two streams of tears roll down the side of her flushed face as he plundered that hot little mouth! His fervent imagination had him imagining her hot breath... her wet tongue... when she wrapped her beautiful, ripe lips around his cock! 

He dragged his free hand over his mouth and shifted on the sofa to relieve the pressure from his aching cock. Not even a larger mouthful of the sharp, liquid fire could quell his primal hunger. 

"There's no telling if it will be just us in this marriage!" he reasoned with himself. "One wrong move- should I upset her in any way, she might go running straight to her brother. She hasn't so far- but there's no telling what she might do in future." 

By law, not even the king can interfere in the affairs between a man and his wife. That doesn't mean that a displeased father and brother, especially a royal father and brother, can't make life quite unpleasant for a errant husband. 

He set aside the empty whiskey glass in his other hand and took hold of her slender little feet as he watched her sleep. His desire grew as he rubbed each of her icy cold feet in turn, first her long slender toes, then the hollow of of her arches, in slow circular patterns that made her breath catch in her arched throat. Oh those lips-! He nearly tore her gown as he pinched her flesh and caressed the length of her bare legs. When he discovered crusted trails of his dried fluids on her inner thighs he was hard enough to drive nails through a wooden plank!

Evelyn turned over. Her shawl fell away when she flung one arm over her forehead. Her shapely breasts, her smooth stomach and rounded thighs was splayed out for him. He felt the heat emanating from her before he felt her wiry patch of fur and dipped a digit easily into her sopping folds. Her heady scent was simply intoxicating! Yet, he didn't go further. Instead he pulled back and took a deep whiff of her aroma on his slick fingers. 

"Evelyn? Evelyn, wake up."

Slowly her thick curly lashes fluttered and her deep blue eyes, sparkling in the dim light, reappeared. "W-what's happened? " she asked, groggily, as she sat up and looked around with her sleepy, unfocused eyes. She was jolted fully awake when suddenly became aware of the large man sprawled on the sofa beside her. With her heart pounding and her face ablaze she quickly drew her legs under the hem of her gown. 

"You fell asleep. Not the ideal place for that," he said, casually as he scrutinized whatever it was he was rubbing between his fingers. 

Evelyn's eyes widened and her lips formed an O. "Is it morning? The servants will be up- Oh! If I'm discovered like this-! With you-!" 

"Well damn all that," he replied casually "The fire's gone out. You might be more comfortable sleeping in your own bed."

Evelyn suddenly noticed that her fingers were like ice. Somehow it didn't matter. "And you?" Evelyn asked in a small, shaky voice.

His lordship reached out to cup Evelyn's chin so she couldn't look away. "I'd like to join you, believe me... but it's simply impossible at the moment."

A chill tingled down Evelyn's spine under the intensity of his piercing gaze. Then his eyes darkened with desire when his glance dropped to her lips and lingered there. The thrill she always felt when he gave her that look was overshadowed by sudden self-awareness. She had given herself to him! The evidence formed dark stains on her night gown and left a dry, crusty trail between her stiff and aching thighs. There was no going back! Even so Evelyn blushed and turned away just as he swooped in for a kiss. The kiss landed on her ear. He seemed to find her bashfulness amusing as he tilted her chin till she faced him again.

"Why so bashful all of a sudden, hmm?" he asked, scanning her face when she wouldn't meet his gaze. "Where's that fierce Lady Evelyn I first met who could upbraid me with a single look, hmm?"

Evelyn looked past him to look pointedly his desk. "What we did, sir- "

"What have we done?" 

"You can't expect me to say it!" she said, mortified! "How I must look to you!" She quickly gathered her shawl from the floor and flung it over her chest. 

His large firm hands closed over her trembling ones and started to methodically rubbed the cold from her fingers. "You look-rather ravishing. Then again, you were designed to - well, to make men weak, aren't you?"

Her blush deepened. Again he wouldn't allow her to simply look away or let her pull her hands from his warm grasp. He bend down till his deeply set, steel-blue gaze, so pale and piercingly bright in the dim room, were level with her own. "Don't turn away, Evelyn. Let me see those alluring eyes... they hide so much from me."

"What could I possibly hide from you? You've seen me- had me- like some savage thing!" she croaked. 

He let her hand go but, only to lean forward so his lips and his breath brushed hers. Every goosebumps on Evelyn's body rose up. "We both know how well you guard your secrets. Eventually I'll know them all. Every thought that crosses you mind will be revealed to me- my beautiful little savage!"

"Please, sir! Don't call me that!" 

He expression was almost playful when he tugged on his lower lip with his teeth and pulled her shawl aside. "What? Call you savage?" The shawl feel away. "Your word. Not mine. But I like how savage you look with your hair free. I even like this useless little gown that shows every curve of your body. Don't blush! There's no need to be bashful with me! You know you're beautiful! In future I shan't admire you too much, too often or you'll grow too proud and vain. But tonight, I want to look at you freely! My God! I can hardly fit one of these succulent breasts in the palm of my hand-!"

"Oh please! Don't tease me, sir!"

He chuckled deep in his throat. "Don't tease you? Are you sure? Your nipples seem to like it!"

Evelyn swallowed hard and looked up at him with smoldering desire. "Then do what you like sir. Only- stop saying these things to me!"

"Saying what things?"

She squeezed her eyes shut. "Please don't talk of my looks- and such..."

He pulled her closer to him. "What? You don't like compliments? Well, that's just contrary to everything I know of your sex. Do you hate pretty clothes and jewelry too?"

"I-!" She lowered her fans of thick lashes. "I'm glad that I please you, sir. I just- find it hard to accept compliments for something that was not my doing-"

Something about her response made his smile broaden. "What curious thoughts must run through your head!"

This time when he dipped down to her, Evelyn allowed him to kiss each of her dimpled cheeks, her forehead then her lips. She loved the bitter taste of whiskey on his lips and it sharp fragrance on his breath. She even loved the feeling of his scratchy whiskers across her skin. When he pressed her back on the sofa and forced his enormous body between her thighs, it was the most natural thing in the world for her to spread her legs to him. There was no need for words. Speaking was pointless when his mouth could make her feel like this! 

He was everywhere! With one arm cradling her, his other hand traveled down the length of her in search of her pussy as his tongue chased hers. She clung to his shirt and kicked her legs against the sofa seat. The faint sloping sound his digits made as he worked them in and out of her were in perfect concert to her throaty moans. They can both smell her growing desire, thick, potent, permeate the room but she no longer cared as he uncoiled all her emotions and sent waves and waves of unbridled ecstasy surging through her. 

Evelyn utter a cry in protest when he suddenly released her and backed away. To her relief, then alarm, he started to undress! Her heart thundered loudly in her ears at her first glimpse of a man's body... His body! And he was glorious! She thought he resembled a carved statue come to life in that pre-dawn hour. A black-haired, blue-eyed, Greek statue! The silvery moon light even make his skin, rippling with muscles, appear marble-like if not for the short dark hairs covering his strong limbs and chest that tapered into a thin line down his hard, flat stomach to... 

Then Evelyn caught a glimpse of his manhood, jutting out from a mass of dark, curly hairs! She quickly looked away but the image of it was imprinted in her mind. It stood proud, nearly the length and thickness of her forearm and... obscenely beautiful!  

"Do you find me savage too?" he asked with a playful twitch of a dark brow as he pulled her on his lap.

"I-" 

"What?"

"I want to please you!" she said, her voice hoarse and foreign sounding. 

"Good! Because I must have you again. My Evelyn-,' he murmured hotly against her lips. 

Rather than pushing her down as she had expected, he merely repositioned her on his lap so that her gown bunched up around her waist and her thighs were spread till she sat astride him. He stroked the length of his manhood before aiming it at her scorching, drooling little pussy!

Then he pulled her hips towards him just as he thrust his hips up! Evelyn uttered a deep cry in pain and pleasure when her tender and raw body was forced to stretch around his length and girth once more. 

"Look at me, Evelyn!" He speared into her again. "I want you to know it when I'm fucking you!" 

Evelyn did manage to open her eyes with her heart squeezed into her throat. So many indescribable emotions welled up in her and poured down her cheeks as hot tears. Somehow he seemed to understand what she needed! He pushed deep into her in forceful, deliberate strokes. For her the waves and waves of the pain and euphoria didn't lessen. That was what he was to her: agony and ecstasy! 

"Oh-my god," she moaned out loud, half out of her mind as his thrusts turned more forceful.

He growled deep in his throat as his tempo grew more intense. Before too long her legs were starting to cramp and felt like her joints would split apart from being wrapped around him.

Agony! 

Just when Evelyn thought she couldn't take anymore, he palmed her supple buttocks and rolled with her till his body covered hers. With great control he teased her and drove her to distraction by alternating his speed, even the force of his strokes. Fast! Shallow. Then deep and slow. When he placed her hands on his hard buttocks and urged her to pull him into her at her determination. He was telling her how to control his movements! Evelyn pulled him in and urged him on! Harder! Faster!! 

Suddenly he pulled out of her and had her on her knees! Evelyn gave a little shriek and grabbed at the sofa cushions just as he pulled her hips back to spear himself into her again. She cried out in pain when he gripped her by the neck and around the waist as he drilled into her with a singular purpose. There was little she could do but squeeze her eyes shut and endure as he lost all control! His heat rolled off of him in huge droplets and drenched her hair, her face.

Pain! Such sweet pain!

With a lusty cry he unleashed a torrent of deep, wild, thrusts deep into her! Just when she didn't think he could last much longer, he had one foot on the ground, and reached over her head to grab hold of the sofa and road her with a fury that made the sofa thump and creak. It started to slide back on the floor and Evelyn wondered wildly if the whole thing might collapse under them! 

Such pain! 

Such indescribable pleasure! 

Then, she felt him shudder violently just as he uttered a final deep, shout and collapsed over her.

Then, bliss!

Beyond the windows a bird started to chirp it's pre-dawn song. In Lord Davenport's study, the only sounds were that of their labored breaths, panting out of union. Evelyn pushed her mane of hair from her face as she turned her face from the sofa seat, still buried beneath him. She looked behind her and greedily drank in the sight of his muscled back, that rose and fell with his every breath. He always made her think of a great, magnetic, beast. Even in his repose, with his eyes closed, there was still something taut about him. His energy coiled just beneath the surface, as if he could never truly be at peace. But perhaps, momentarily, she had tamed the beast. 

Eventually Evelyn uttered a tiny moan that roused him. With his eyes closed he shifted his weight from her a bit till they laid with their heads side by side. He was so large he would have crowded her off the narrow seat if he hadn't kept a powerful arm tightly wrapped around her.

"I should go," she whispered after a while. 

He mumbled something indiscernible in response that made Evelyn bite back a chuckle. She leaned up on one elbow and followed her exploring fingers over his broad back as far as she could reach. Her fingers traced over several scars, newer ones over layering older ones on his shoulders and back.

"So many scars!" she said, breathlessly. She leaned closer and grew bolder in her exploration. "They say you were very brave in the war and single-handedly fought off several mercenaries. Is this their doing?"




Duplicity Ch. 06



His reply was casual and he didn't bother to open his eyes. "Hmm? Or my rambunctious childhood. Who remembers?" 

"Some of these appear fresher than others and - so, so -deep and brutal!" she observed with a shudder. "I didn't think you had any imperfections."

His eyes remained shut but a corner of his lips curled up. "That'll change soon enough."

"Not physically," she replied with a bashful, adoring smile as she continued to run her fingers, over his body. 

He merely uttered a "Hmm" and remained still.

Evelyn heard the chirping bird again. She still made no move to go though she knew she ought to. With her whole heart she wished that this night would never end. Everything's changed between them now. Yet a part of her feared that should she leave him, come morning, he'd return to his cold, cruel self. 

"Will it always be like this? Between us I mean?"

"I certainly hope not!" he said with feigned horror. He yawned loudly, stretched out his arms then propped up on one elbow. "There won't be much left of me within a month," he said through another yawn as he raked his free hand through his tousled hair. 

He reached for her face and ran the pad of his thumb over her lower lip. He eagerly scrutinized her expression when he pressed down to part her lips. On reflex Evelyn darted her tongue around his thumb and beckoned it into her hot little mouth. Her silky tongue caressing his digit, elicited a deep moan from him. He pulled his thumb from her mouth with a pop with a regretful sigh.

"Never mind," he said, at her surprised look. "I wonder, what sort of life did you have? Before I mean? Where did you live? What sort of company did you keep?"

"My lord?"

"I want to know about you."

It wasn't a question Evelyn had expected. "I suppose I had an ordinary upbringing," she started. "For many years it was just Edward and I with our tutors and governesses and servants of course. We wanted for nothing."

"Were you treated well?"

Evelyn laid her head against his chest and twirled the short dark hairs there between her fingers, while he stroked her hair from above. "I thought of our old cook just now."

"Tell me."

"She was a pitiful thing. She was such an ugly old thing that everyone said it was a blessing her husband was blind or he would surely run from her in terror. But he loved her so dearly. He sat in the kitchen while she worked and they would talk and laugh for hours. Years later I learned that he wasn't always blind. He once made very good sketches and watercolors. Cook showed me some sketches he drew of her. She was just as ugly, flat-nosed and stout in those sketched as she appeared in life. So you see, he knew what she looked like and still he loved her. Lately, my thoughts often return to them - how happy they were. If I should be half as happy, I think- I think that would be so lovely."

Lord Davenport felt a strange tightness in his chest as he listened to her story. She didn't see his dark scowl or how his Adam's' Apple Bob in his throat.

"Then it's a pity you're not her," he said evenly. '

"Sir?"

"If only you were ugly and stout then you might have found yourself a blind beggar and you would have been happy in abject poverty too."

"You're teasing me again!" she said with an uncertain smile as she looked up at his face.

He leaned back and scrutinized her beneath an arched brow. "Teasing you? Not at all. I'm simply giving you what you want. It's pity that you want isn't it? Somehow you've romanticized this couple in your mind as the pinnacle of the perfect love. So I pity you that you will never get to experience what they had. I pity you for your youth, your stunning beauty, your every advantage in life. What a curse it is to have every man you meet fall over himself to worship you!" 

Evelyn sat up and pulled away from him. "You ask me to tell you about myself! I thought you were sincere."

Some part of him recognized that his anger was irrational, that he was being unjustly cruel but he couldn't help taunting her. "And I thought you might have something more interesting in that head of yours! How disappointing for you that you won't have your own noble, blind, lunatic for a husband!"

"No!" Evelyn shouted back. "How disappointing that YOU'RE to be my husband! Cruel and heartless man! So- so - changeable from moment to moment. ANY man would be more bearable than you!" She regretted her anger instantly and clasped a hand over her mouth. "I beg your pardon sir. I didn't mean - let's not quarrel!" 

Lord Davenport sat up and planted his feet on the cold floor. For some reason he had flash of Philip's face in his mind's eye. He leaned forward with his elbows on his thighs and dragged his hands harshly over his face. "We've dawdled long enough. The house will be awake at any moment."

"My lord-!"

"Quite alright my dear!" he spat out as he found his trousers at his feet and quickly pulled them on. "I'm at fault, really, for asking a woman what she's thinking post coitus. I ought to know by now it's all just a jumble of nonsense in those pretty little heads." 

"Sir!"

He turned around to stare down at her coldly. "So I'm cruel and heartless, am I? After, what was it, three or four orgasms? I'll save my efforts from now on for a lady more grateful for my efforts!" 

Then it was his turn for regret. Those words, as soon as he uttered them, felt like the swing of a blade that destroyed whatever amity they had just built. Even in the darkness, Lord Davenport could see her grow ashen. 

His expression and tone softened. "Evelyn-" he started to say as he reached out a hand to her to reclaim their easy warmth. He winced when she violently jerked away from his touch. 

Evelyn's felt the sting of his words as sharply as if he had struck her! It took her a moment to force back her tears and catch her breath. There could be no mistaking his meaning!

"I see," she whispered breathlessly. 

How stupid she had been! Theirs wasn't a love match. The beast wasn't tamed. Not by her! He had done this with others!... Countless others even and will continue after they're married! Hadn't Lady Ann alluded to as much? In the heat of their passion Evelyn somehow made herself believe - what? That he felt as she did? 

"Sweetheart-," he tried again.

Evelyn's anger weltered up and broke through her pain. "I understand you perfectly. As you said, I'm merely a consolation- here to provide you with an heir. That is all. Marriage is often an arrangement for such a purpose. And once the duty is done, husbands and wives often take lovers do they not? Isn't that what you mean by having a separate life? So we too shall follow the prescribed path, do long as I'm discrete and don't cause you too much embarrassment-"

With more roughness than either of them expected he lunged for her and gripped her by the shoulder. If she hasn't been so hurt and angry he might have frightened her. He was on the verge of shouting at her but he abruptly released her and backed away again.

"Regrettably you'll have to wait a bit!" he spat out, sardonically. "Then again, you may already be with child. Let's hope it's a son, shall we? Then we need never trouble each other again!"

This time he didn't stop her when she fled from the room and flinched when the door slammed shut behind her. 

*********************************************

Urgent business took Lord Davenport from his home just as the rest of the household was rising. 

"Men are impossible you know!" Mrs. Charlotte Fields complained to her brother and her husband and eyed each of them with an accusing eye. "-and with the wedding so close-."

"The Whigs and Tories won't simply be set aside their dispute because Lord Davenport is getting married," Philip replied dully. "But don't worry dear Charlotte. He'll arrive at the church on time, as he had said."

"One must do what one must," Mr. Field added, banally. 

"Poor Lady Evelyn must feel so neglected," Charlotte grumbled. "Rude man! And I fear she's still not fully recovered from her ghastly ordeal. Have either of you noticed how pale she appeared at breakfast? I urged her to spend the rest of the day in bed till at least teatime. Hopefully those dark circles beneath her eyes will be gone by the wedding."

Had Charlotte not been so fixated on her young friend, she would have noticed Philip looked rather pale and sullen as well. He muttered something about being needed elsewhere. Then, to Charlotte's chagrin, he soon left the house too.

"What could possibly be of such importance?" Mr. Field said in agreement with his wife with a shake of his head. "I can never understand the ways of Londoners."

Lord Davenport, however, did not stay away too long and returned home shortly after Philip rode away from the house. He entered the house with one hand fingering something that he quickly slipped into the breast pocket of his coat. Then he went looking for his household. He found everyone gathered in the drawing room with some maids huddled around Charlotte and Evelyn looking over several polios of fabrics and patterns for the two ladies to look at. Mr. Fields was relegated to a corner, quietly reading the day's papers close up to his cherry red nose.

Everyone looked up when Lord Davenport's large, imposing figure darkened the doorway. His lordship barely greeted his cousins before his attention fell on Evelyn. He had a flashing vision of her in her nightgown with her hair free. But she was the picture of elegance in a grey silk dress with her hair fastened back. She dipped into a sweeping cursey with her eyes cast downwards, her expression serene, but her porcelain skin was flushed to the roots of her hair. 

Charlotte had been anticipating this moment with bated breath. She looked upon her cousin and his fiancee and imaged, with romance in her heart, some sort of charming reunion between the handsome couple. All her hopes were dashed when the usually mannerly Lady Evelyn greeted his lordship rather coldly with barely a hello before she returned to her seat. On his part, Lord Davenport barely had time to react when he notice for the first time another woman in the room. 

Lord Davenport froze! His eyes widened in shock as he came face to face with Lady Ann Seymour! 

"How do you do Lord Davenport?" his former paramour greeted him, her cat-like eyes gleaming as she came towards him with her hands outstretched. "You must excuse my intrusion on your household like this but I had to come and wish my dear friend Lady Evelyn well. Allow me to offer you my congratulations as well!"

Lord Davenport darted a quick look at Evelyn then back to Ann again. "I wasn't aware you were acquainted with each other," he said tightly, his voice sounding unnaturally strained to his own ears. 

Lady Ann inclined her head, gracefully. "Well," she said with a brilliant smile. "You know with our lot. Sooner or later we'll all become acquainted -or related!" 

"How true," Mr. Fields agreed. "Hard to meet a stranger in this set."

With Lady Ann occupying Lord Davenport's attention, Charlotte leaned towards Evelyn. "You've been so pale and withdrawn all day my dear," Charlotte said in a low voice full of concern. "Are you sure we shan't send for a doctor?"

Evelyn answered with a weak smile, her lips paler than ever. "Just a bit tired."

Charlotte nodded in understanding. "It must be all the excitement. I remember feeling violently ill before my own wedding. The anticipation! The excitement! But, I assure you there's no need to fear! With time it will all seem quite natural."

"Will it?" Evelyn asked with her deep doubt written across her face. "Will being Lady Davenport ever feel natural to me?"

"Of course it will! Especially after you've had your first child." Charlotte leaned forward to give Evelyn's hand a warm squeeze. "Then all you'll feel is deliriously happy! "

Evelyn didn't appear happy though as she cast a quick glance towards the tall, erect figure of the man in question, still engaged in deep conversation with Lady Ann. Actually Lady Ann talked and Lord Davenport fixed his attention on the mantle clock. Evelyn felt her eyes burn and and her chest squeeze oddly to see him standing with another woman. Evelyn remanded herself for being foolishly jealous of her own friend. She quickly looked away again. 

Charlotte was still speaking. "I have no doubt Cousin John will make a wonderful husband and father. All men of fortitude-"

"You've been most diligent in telling me of his good qualities, dear Charlotte," Evelyn said quickly. "I don't doubt you at all as I see them for myself. I do have to wonder sort of life we shall have together. Will I be enough for him? How will I bear the responsibility of being his chatelaine? If he should find me wanting-"

Charlotte reached out to give Evelyn's hand another deep squeeze. "You dear thing. I know what's brought this on. I assure you life is not a romance where two people fall in deep passionate love at first meeting and everything simply falls into place. Every marriage take times to develop into true companionship. In the meantime, make up your mind to love him, understand him and - forgive him for any of his transgressions. As for the wedding night, I'll come up to your room later." Charlotte gave Evelyn a knowing wink and stopped speaking when Lady Ann returned to sit with them. 

Tea was served and Lord Davenport found himself on the far side of the room with Mr. Fields, while the ladies sat together engaged in soft pleasant conversation. Lord Davenport fixed his gaze on Evelyn and watched her every interaction with Lady Ann closely. Their softly spoken words did not carry over to him, but by their easy manners and warm smiles, he could detect no awkwardness or distress... until she happened to look up and see him! Then her gaze would drop away quickly as a rosy flush passed over her porcelain complexion. 

Unable to remain seated a moment longer, Lord Davenport rose to his feet. "I have some documents I must retrieve before I go out again," he explained to the inquisitive looks. He fingered something in his breast pocket. "I won't be back for supper. My apologies but it can't be helped. Evelyn, may-"

"But why? Where are you off to now?" Charlotte interrupted in dismay. 

"Has it started to rain again, I wonder," Lady Ann remarked. "The roads will be awful."

"I so dislike the smell of the city when it rains and the gutters overflow," Mr. Fields added.

Charlotte was near pleading with her cousin. "Everyone is expected-!" She gestured to Evelyn Evelyn to join in her entreat.

"-Matters that couldn't be put off, I'm afraid.. I won't bore you with the details," replied Lord Davenport with an apologetic smile. He flicked his glance at Evelyn but she remained stubbornly silent with her eyes cast down on her folded hands in her lap.

"Important business then?" Lady Ann asked affably.

Lord Davenport could only nod as his attention remained fixed on Evelyn. 

"What could be of such grave importance at this hour?" Mr. Field asked with a grunt. "I say, I will never be use to life in town."

"Do you not enjoy it here, Mr. Fields?" Lady Ann asked. "There are so many diversions."

Mr. Field puffed up his chest in self importance. "Quite! Quite! But I'm a simple creature. I have no head for government or commerce. Speeches bore me. Business galls me. I much prefer the cleaner air of the country and no one is in such a hurry. One can truly appreciate every aspect of life!"

"I'm sure all your farm hands are equally at leisure," his lordship noted drily, trying not to let his impatience show. 

Whether Mr. Field heard him or not, the self-satisfied smile didn't waver from his face. "I say, half of these important business are just harebrained schemes for charlatans and conmen. I tell you I laughed heartily when I hear some mad fools plan to dig a tunnel beneath the Thames. Dig beneath a navigable river! Indeed! There's sure to be quicksand and God knows what else! And there are those who actually speech of investing in such a venture! More money than brains I tell you!"

Lord Davenport finally dragged his gaze from Evelyn to level his gaze on the rotund little man. "I've looked into the scheme myself actually," he said quite casually "...among other foolish ventures."

Mr. Field blew out his cheeks then threw back his head and laughed heartily. 

Ann spoke first. "Is such a thing possible? The force of the river currents will flood any progress in such a feat."

"Is it necessary?" Mr. Fields asked. "Are bridges out of fashion?"

Lord Davenport noticed that Evelyn was listening intently on their conversation, her interest peaked. He was suddenly less eager to be off and sat down again, with his long legs stretched out before him. 

"I agree that the accepted designs I've seen are fundamentally flawed. However, I recently encountered an architect who showed me his designs for a rather impressive shield that would push against the water."

Both Mr. Fields and Lady Ann laughed incredulously. 

"A shield?" Charlotte asked with a blank look on her face. "Why, that would have to be enormous!"

"Does this inventor intend to shield the entire length of the river?" Mr. Fields laughingly scoffed. "Who would even think to patent such a thing let alone allow it to be built?"

Lord Davenport rested his elbows on the arms of his chair and steeples his fingers beneath his chin. He stole another glance at Evelyn, whose interest was fully engaged now. "I'd rather think the whole thing, if possible would be a feat of engineering marvel. The shield's design was inspired a shipworm's shell that are quite adept at boring through submerged wood," he said mainly for her benefit,

Just as Evelyn was about to ask something, Mr. Fields spoke up again. "I simply mean that you seem overburdened, Cousin, if you're being pestered with schemes built on shells and other such nonsense. When you're a man of wealth and influence, every Tom Dick and Harry has some new, nonsensical scheme that will last years, require endless resources and will never amount to much I tell you."

Lord Davenport flexed his steepled fingers impatiently.

"Many such projects generally do take years and several false starts," Lady Ann agreed.

"How does one dig underneath a river?" Charlotte asked, still perplexed. "How could one even know how deep to dig, or even where to dig without it flooding over immediately? Are the bridges not serviceable anymore?"

"It's a hare-brained idea," Mr. Field said firmly. "This is what I mean though. You meet all sorts of tricksters in town, you won't encounter in the country. It's an idiotic risk, too high of a risk! It will just leave the financiers holding useless scraps at the end of the day. Mark me!"

"When have there ever been a reward without risk?" Evelyn finally spoke up "Much of our modern innovations, even our realm, wouldn't exist if not for risk-takers, the explorers. Those who risk all, do so on the hope to better our world and explore our human capabilities. There's no guarantee that any of it will succeed, but then again nothing in life is guaranteed."

"Well said, my dear!" Lady Ann said with a smile and patted Evelyn's hand. Lord Davenport merely studied her over his steepled fingers, in his usual impenetrable manner 

"Better keep a keen eye on this one," Mr. Field said with a hearty laugh to the stone-faced Lord Davenport. Then the ruddy faced man leaned towards Evelyn and winked. "Well my dear, I can assure you that your life will be without worry or risks once you're Lady Davenport. As a future duchess you needn't worry your pretty little head even if your husband were to throw handfuls of gold sovereigns out the window each morning."

Lord Davenport straightened in his chair and looked pointedly at Mr. Fields. "The future Marchioness of Davenport shan't ever suffer condescension from those beneath her."




Duplicity Ch. 06



Mr. Field was visibly flustered. The three ladies could only stare. Lord Davenport wasn't interested in the other man's sputtering reply. "I only mean to warn you that you won't see a return on your investment!"

"If I were to fund the thing, I wouldn't do with the expectation that it'll make me money," Lord Davenport said. "I'd have the shield built just to see that it can be done. Chalk it up to a test of man's ingenuity. If I'm to lose a fortune, better it be on something more worthwhile than a game of cards."

"Oh, but you never lose," Charlotte said with a reassuring smile for her cousin. "If you want to build tunnels under the ocean, I'm certain it will be a great success."

Mr. Fields, having lost interest in the subject, moved on to more interesting topics related to some new tree he had planted in his yard. 

Lord Davenport took that moment to leave his chair and move the short distance to Evelyn. She flinched slightly when she felt him lean over her and his hot breath touched the back of her neck. How was it the others didn't feel this scorching heat? 

"Can we speak?" he asked softly enough that only she could hear him. 

"Aren't we speaking now?" she replied with her nervous attention fixed on anything else but him.

"I mean - will you come through to the study with me?" He touched his hand to his breast pocket again. "You might find it more comfortable to talk in there."

For a moment her resolve wavered and she thought about going with him but her heart still ached from their last private conversation.. "I'm comfortable where I am."

His piercing blue eyes plead with her from beneath his heavy dark brows, but Evelyn was determined to remain unmoved. "Evelyn, I want-" 

She looked pointedly at the others who took deliberate efforts to not notice them. "Please don't ask that of me!"

After that no amount of entreaty could make Lord Davenport stay longer. He was still seething when he shut himself away in his study. It was the wrong place for him to put Evelyn out of his mind. He recalled with vivid detail the evening before. Where she stood... how she looked draped across his desk, on that damn sofa... He impatiently rifled through some papers before he finally tossed them aside again with a curse when he realized he was merely shuffling them in his hands without taking any notice of their content. 

Just then, the door opened again. 

"What do you want?" he asked tersely when Ann slipped inside.

Ann pouted playfully. "Don't be surly, John! You're quite frightening sometimes!"

He glowered at her as she pressed her back against the closed door. Ann tilted her head back with an coquettish gaze and slowly ran her fingers down her milky white cleavage to where the scoop of her neckline barely concealed her long, dark nipples. His brows remained furrowed but his eyes grew soften as he followed her fingers down it's path. She had his attention! Then in a slow deliberate movement Ann pushed herself forward and swanned towards him. His gaze followed her swaying skirts.

"Your cousin Charlotte tells the most charming stories about your boyhood. Hard to imagine you were ever a lanky, awkward schoolboy." She turned her head to look back at him over her shoulder and smiled when she caught his lingering gaze! Ann batted her lashes and dragged the tip of her pink tongue across her upper lip. "Just look at you now!"

A corner of his lips curled up. "Did you tell tales of your own?" he asked smoothly, as he leaned forward with his fists on the surface of his desk. 

"Oh goodness!" Ann scoffed with girlish giggle. "Is that why you think I'm here? A bit beneath me to act as the scorned woman don't you think?"

His expression didn't change.

Ann twirled around the room and took note of the walls of books and frescos on the vaulted ceiling. "No silly!" she stated casually with boredom in her voice. "No one here knows our history with each other as it was so brief it hardly bears mentioning, don't you think?"

Lord Davenport turned his attention to some papers again. "Then why are you here?" he asked with equal disinterest.

"I know what you're thinking. It was plain on your face when you saw me in there. But no I'm not here to disturb your domestic bliss. You ought to know the way our set works. An friendship and alliance with Lord and Lady Davenport is most beneficial to me. Our dalliance... well, no one knew of it and no one will, not from me. At this point it would do me more harm if your wife finds out and decides to exercise her influences against me. So no, I won't be the one to tell her about our dalliance and upset things... as I'm sure all your former mistresses too will keep your secrets, whoever they may be. We're all attuned to way of these things." 

He backed away her when she inched close enough to run a hand over his chest to feel his hard body beneath his jacket. Ann gave a careless shrug as she too took a step back. "And I do like her, truly I do. Your lady is a kind and sweet, a delightfully simple girl, beneath that stunningly beautiful facade."

Lord Davenport made no reply as he turned to shuffle through a pile of papers on his desk. 

"Society can be quite daunting for new comers, but you wouldn't know about that. You also may not have noticed that your new wife hides a painfully reticent nature beneath her regal exterior. But I quite like her and I can be useful to the poor motherless girl. With a few words of friendly encouragement, she might be more receptive in her wifely duties. You're not easy to please you know. Poor thing may become quite hysterical by how- well, demanding you can be!"

"She knows," he blurted out without thinking as he took a seat behind his desk. 

That's when Ann pressed her hands against her belly as though she had a sudden sharp pain there. "Oh... I see!" she said, quickly recovering her feigned brightness. "You simply couldn't resist plucking so fragrant a flower could you? Was the nectar sweet indeed? Did you have to force her or did she come freely on her own?"

Lord Davenport lowered his eyes and absently ran his fingers lightly over the smooth wooden surface. 

"There's nothing quite like the charms of a fresh young ingenue, I suppose, " Ann continued with her brightest smile. Had he looked up at her then, he would have seen a dangerous glint in her bright eyes. "Though at one point you weren't so keen on the idea of a- what did you call them- a simpering virgin? Well I can't image there's a man alive who could remain detached from Lady Evelyn's charms."

"Ann-"

Lady Ann was speaking quickly and rather frantically as she tried her best to regain her composure. "Won't you indulge my curiosity for a bit longer? That's all I ask. I'm of course curious about the woman who replaced me. You must allow me that as you and I never properly marked the end of our liaison." 

When he leaned back in the chair and thoughtful stroked his chin, Ann didn't hesitate to dropped to her knees at his feet. She pressed her face against the back of his hand on the armrest and asked. 

"I know you and u and I weren't meant to last. But I will always have a softness in my heart for you, poor lamb. You're quite obvious with your devotion to her you know, no matter how hard you try to hide it."

He remained silent.

Ann held onto his hand. "Don't admit to anything then. I know you followed her into her carriage after that dinner some weeks ago. I can't say I blame you. She is most alluring with her aura of mystery. Did you keep her virginity in tack? Not that it matter which door you knock, it's your soon or later. And those lips! So red, so plump! They're made to give pleasure. Tell me, was she eager when you showed her how you love to be adored by a woman, or did she feign disgust at first? They all do don't they? Did she choke on you the first time or did she tilt back her head like a good girl... open her mouth and throat wide to give you unfettered access... like I use to... swallow you, like I use to..."

He leap from the chair like a man on fire and backed away from her in disgust. "You're embarrassing yourself, Ann! Show some dignity!"

Ann laughed her deep throaty laugh. "Oh come John!" she laughed even as she brushed the tears streaming down her cheeks. "Don't be cross, my beautiful boy! I was just having a bit of fun! You brought it on yourself! If all former lovers looked upon me as you did when you first saw me, why I'd say we'd never have a gathering or more than two or three in any salon in London! You know my humor, how I adore being shocking!"

He cursed under his breath, then turned his back to face a window.

"Temper, temper!" Ann clucked her tongue at him as she stood up again and brushed off her skirt. "You'll frighten the poor girl with your surliness, you know. You may not believe that I come to you in genuine friendship, but I offer it to you anyway-"

"Lady Ann, I find your idea of friendship extraordinary. You and I did not have a long standing arrangement. And if I recall correctly you've since replaced me with young Henry Wilkes. So I have no sympathy for whatever outrage you may feel you're entitled here. Do you want money? Have your gambling debts caught up to you? If that's the case I'll have my banker-"

"Oh my lord Davenport!" she cried with another bright chuckle. "Really? You're offering me money of all things? I've plenty of my own, thanks. It is comforting to know your generosity can be counted on should I ever need it. No, I was merely having a bit of fun with you, you silly sod. We had some great fun together, for as long as it lasted. Soon we'll forget it all together, I'm sure."

Lord Davenport looked as though he was about to speak, but then he merely sighed and rubbed a hand over the back of his head and neck wearily. 

Ann continued. "But, we'll still be forced into each other's society. How are we to get along? You've handled ended affairs before, you ought to know the essential need to keep up appearances. For my end, I intend to regard you as an old dear friend. And as an old dear friend I must tell you that you've grown jaded. Surly. Brooding. It's quite appealing in a lover. But no woman wants to live with a bad-tempered husband, even one as handsome as you!"

Ann watched his jaw working in tune to a series of unfettered emotions cross his expressive brows. "So you'll advise me on how to keep my wife happy?" he asked her with searing sarcasm . 

"Oh you'll need no help there. She'll be happy because you'll tell her she's happy. You'll bend her to your will till she lives simply for your pleasure. Truly, it's what all women want, a powerful man to exert his power over her."

He sneered at that. "And like a truly formidable women, you're quick to betray your own sex."

Ann shrugged off the remark. "What do it matter what I betray when we all know men truly hold all the power? You do us no favors when you pretend we have any hold over you. It simply gives us a false sense of security. Oh there's plenty of men who claims women have the true power. Some men may even fall under the spell of youth and beauty for a time. But that power lasts for as long as our looks last. Sometimes, even before the first bloom starts to fade, you would have replaced us with something newer, fresher. So in the end, who holds the true power?" 

With that Lady Ann took her leave. It took Lord Davenport several moments before he noticed she had left the door wide open after her. He had just reached the entryway and was about to shut the door again when Evelyn descended the stairs from the floor above. 

Their eyes locked. 

Lord Davenport stepped forward with a hand held out to the dark-haired, porcelain beauty before him. "Won't you say hello to me?" he asked her. 

Evelyn clung to her hurt and anger but her resistance crumbled when her own body simply refused to obey. What last bit of hurt she clung to, melted when his fingers laced through hers and he pulled her into his arms again. 

Abruptly, he took her by the hand and lead her purposefully down an empty hallway. There wasn't a soul in sight. Evelyn had to run a little to match his long stride. He had a look of determination about him when, with a quick glance around, he reached for an invisible latch in the wood paneled wall that clicked open to reveal a small closet of sorts. 

"My lord?" Evelyn had time to utter when she was ushered into the small cramped space. They were suddenly plunged into near darkness and he was on her in an instant! 

"I thought of this all day!" he said harshly as he held her and buried his face against her neck. "Oh Evelyn! My l-" 

"Please!" she squeaked her protest. "What if we're found out-?" 

He tightened his hold on her in response. So many different thoughts fired through her mind. Did he use this closet often for this purpose? Who were those nameless, faceless women? Then his kisses successfully emptied her mind of all thoughts in that warm, musty darkness, and she gave into him. Their ragged breaths sounded primal and deafening in the dark. Surely the sound would have reverberated through the house and someone would come looking for the source soon. Yet, no one did.

"We haven't much time," she heard him mutter. 

Lord Davenport's urgent fingers tugged at her neckline and his rough fingers palmed and kneaded her naked breasts. She felt his head dip down a moment before his hot, wet tongue drag over a breast, then sucked her nipple, hard! It wasn't long before he rudely spun her around to face away from him and her hands instinctively reached up to brace herself against the rough wooden wall. 

Her whole body quivered and turned to liquid when he pulled her hips back firmly against him. For a brief moment he simply kneaded her soft rounded bottom as he pressed forward to grind into her that forced a deep moan of frustration and satisfaction from her. Evelyn didn't have long to wait before he swiftly made his way past her skirts over the sound of his trouser unfastening. 

She cried out loud when he dragged his hard, swollen member the length of her slick gash. A second push had his long, smooth, turgent flesh took her breath away. She was still so tender and sore from their couplings before. At least now she knew what to expect from him. At least she thought she did. There was another dimension, however, to his urgency when he rutted her in that dark little closet. She was barely able to hold her outstretched arms steady to keep herself from being knocked against the wall. 

Suddenly, he stopped as they both heard the sound of more approaching footsteps, followed by Charlotte's voice recounting how the flowers had all arrived save three arrangements. All the rugs had been moved.. Now there was just the food... 

Every muscle in his body tensed and he held her tight. They both held perfectly still as they listened to the pitch and fall of Charlotte's voice. He did not keep still for long though. She jumped when his soft lips kissed the top of her shoulder blade. He kissed her smooth skin again then brushed his lips up the side of her neck before he sucked an earlobe into his mouth. 

Just outside the door, they could hear Charlotte say to her silent companion: "-I don't quite understand his urgency to be at Keswick Hall so soon... even wealthy tradesmen are taking wedding trips! Mark my work he'll regret it when she won't be coaxed to her wifely duties at night after he's spent all day galloping about with his land agents and farm hands-!."

Evelyn bit back a little giggle. Little did she realize she had squeezed her thighs and slick inner walls around him. He reached up for a handful of her hair and pulled her roughly against him till her head feel back against his shoulder. He muffled a throaty groan in the back of her neck. 

Luckily, Charlotte and her companion soon shuffled away. 

Still holding her by a fistful of wavy curls in one hand, his other hand made its way between her legs and pressed his finger tips on the flap of flesh there. She wept openly, mindless of anything else but the overwhelmed sensations that engulfed her. Then his fingers massaging her in deep, slow circles, coupled with the feeling of him surging deep into her body made Evelyn so weak that had he not held her, she would have fallen to her knees. He quickly untangled his fingers from her hair and clasped his palm over her mouth to keep her screams muffled as Evelyn climbed the highs towards a blinding, white - hot explosion! 

...Evelyn could not recall how much time had passed before she was forced to squinted her eyes against the sudden ray of light when the little closet door opened again. He had straightened his clothes and appeared as he always did: urbane, self-assured. .

"Wait!" he called out when she started to leave. He came towards her and smoothed her skirts, then brushed a few stray strands of hair behind her ears. 

"I seem to have a talent for saying the wrong things to you," he said to her. 

"I-" Evelyn didn't trust herself to speak. 

Just then he reached into his breast pocket and took out something. She could only blink hard when he slip an enormous pale blue diamond ring on the fourth finger of her left hand. 

"My mother's, this," he explained, as he held her hand in both of his. "Given to her by my father when he asked for her hand. I might have liked the chance to ask for yours- but then you would have refused me." He gave a little smile.

She was at a loss for words, at the ring, at him!

His dark brows furrowed and his jaw tightened as he studied the sparkling diamond, seemingly uncertain of what to say. "I told you I won't be an overly indulgent husband but neither ought I be deliberately cruel. Yet I think I have been. Cruel that is. I blamed you for things not in your control."

Evelyn still couldn't speak. 

He continued, slightly more hesitant. "I do want you to be happy. As much as you can with me. I'm afraid I'm a bit set in my ways... Evelyn, I'm trying to apologize!" . 

He flicking his piercing, icy-blue gaze up to meet hers and caught her once more in their spell. 

Whatever he saw in her expression made his confident smile return. He lightly stroked the curve of her cheek with the back of his knuckles once. And just like that, he turned on his heels and walked away.

Evelyn sank into a nearby side chair when her knees gave out from under her. It took quite a bit of time before her pounding heart returned to normal. 

*************

Spring was late to arrive but many of the bon ton were eager to remove to their country estate for a respite. Lady Ann had only been at her own country seat for a fortnight before she grew restless again. Thankfully her friend Lady Warwick was thoughtful enough to send her sister Mary to keep Lady Ann company for a bit. To Lady Ann's further delight, Mary brought with her a party of bright young people, that included the newly married Henry Wilkes.

"I thought you'd be on your wedding trip," Lady Ann said in an aside to her young lover.

"My wife continues on her wedding journey with her mother," Henry replied with a shrug. "I could only stand so many European museums and dress shops. Besides, my father simply couldn't do without me for much longer."

"And where is your father pray?"

"In Bath, nursing his gout and glad to be rid of me, surely."

They exchanged a mischievous smile.

Henry took it upon himself to introduce the other two members of their party. Lady St. James was tall and fair and quite pleasing to look at. However, it was her sparkling personality, so open and artless, that when she smiled her broad infectious smile, her whole face lit up and she immediately delighted everyone around her. The other was a Mr. Ainsley Elwood, a remarkably handsome young man, of medium height and stature. His face was almost too beautiful to be masculine if not for his slightly crooked nose and a faint scar dividing his left brown down the middle. He effected the usual fashionable air of indifference but there was underlying intensity just below the surface that marked him as a libertine.




Duplicity Ch. 06



"Mr. Elwood and I were at school together," Henry explained to Ann later. "Lady St. James is my wife's younger sister. You're surprise I see. The older one, meek, plain and sheltered by a convent upbringing really has nothing but her wealth to recommend her. The younger sister, as you see, possessed the good looks and an easy spirit that guaranteed her an advantageous marriage to my friend Elwood's older brother, Lord St. James. And his lordship's fortune is ever increasing as he's a great favorite at court and a close companion of Prince Edward's. Of course we all know Mary through some connection or other, but who cares about that!"

Lady Ann nodded approvingly. "As I've often said, in our circle, we're all connected somehow." So which of you are bedding Lady St. James then? You or her other brother? "

Henry chuckled. "Neither of us would dare break such familial bonds! But truly, it's not impossible to make her break her marital vows. Like all the low-borne, she's still quite keen to observe the order of precedence and make beneficial connections. I'd say it would take nothing less than an Earl's... or a Marquess' coronet to make her spread her thighs. But, patience my dear, there's a purpose to this little gathering... with the possible exception of poor Mary that is. Soon, all will be revealed to you."

After supper Lady Ann decided to learn all there was to know about the tall, fair-haired Lady St. James, or Bess as she insisted on being called. Bess was a gentlemen's daughter, who raised herself considerably by marrying the young Viscount St. James. 

"How difficult it must be for you to be without your husband by your side. And no children to comfort you, you poor dear," Ann said sympathetically. "But to be in service to Prince Edward, it's an incredible honor!"

Bess pressed her pretty lips together as her lovely eyes rolled around to think of an appropriate answer. "Well... His Highness simply couldn't do without my husband's political acumen. Great men are often called to make sacrifices. I've learned to make due with the company of my dear friends like Mary and my family. In fact, after our visit with you we travel to my father's."

"Your childhood home will be different now, after you've been exposed to so much culture," Ann said nonchalantly.

"Luckily our county boasts of several first rate families," Bess replied with another broad infectious smile. "Why my father's land joins the northwest corner of the Marquess of Davenport's country seat. He's often invited to dine at Keswick Hall when Lord Davenport is in residence. I shan't lack for culture or elevated company. "

Lady Ann arched a brow at Henry from across the room in silent salute, then turned her attention once more to Bess. "You are friendly with Lord Davenport! How wonderful!"

"Uhm, good wine, this! And yes, to your question Lady Ann, in a way. Before I was married, Lord Davenport would often ride past our house during the summer months and on occasion he would stop in to call on us. I dare say he's a great favorite with my mother."

"How is it -?" Lady Ann wondered out loud, then intentionally held a hand over her mouth.

"Pardon?" 

Ann waved a hand dismissively. "I often let my thoughts get carried away. You must excuse me my dear. I simply wondered if Lord Davenport had a purpose for visiting your father's home so often. He must have felt it keenly when you married. How could he not when he lost his chance with such a beauty as yourself"

Bess modestly shook her ringlets of golden curls, laughed again and took another sip of wine. "I heard he's recently taken a wife" she said instead. "My father says everyone in the country is most eager for a glimpse of her."

"What's this about Lord Davenport?" ask Mr. Elwood as he and Henry joined them with Mary following them closely, as eager as a puppy. 

"We were remarking on Lord Davenport's recent marriage-" Ann replied

"My father is thrilled to have a proper lady as his neighbor," Bess added with a little bounce..

Mary chimed in then. "It just so happens Lady Davenport and I are as close as sisters! I'm happy to answer any of your curiosities about her." The last was said with an eager smile at Mr. Elwood, which Mr. Elwood ignored.

A whist was set up and Mary opted to sit and watch, positioned between the two men. Lady St. James cut the cards and passed the stack to Ann who dealt. 

"I saw Lord Davenport once," Mr. Elwood was saying with cards cupped in both hands. "Rather a tall fellow, if a bit too grim. Where was it that I saw him- blimey! I can't recall!" 

"Elwood here just returned from a long sojourn abroad," Henry explained to the ladies, laying down a card to follow the trick. "He's been away so long he's quite forgotten everything to do with any of us."

"Sojourn?" Mr. Elwood laughed, rocking back in his chair. "Good God man! I wasn't on an extended holiday. I don't think we need to hide the fact that I was forced to leave."

"I don't believe I was aware of that," Lady Ann replied.

"Chalk it up to a misspent youth but yes, quite the black sheep of the family, me!"

"Did you do something horrid?" Mary asked eagerly. 

"Absolutely!". Henry answered for Mr. Elwood to Mary's shriek of delight. "Now he's forced to return after some devilry with an Italian belladonna was it not? I can proudly say my dear chap here hasn't learned at all from his exile."

"We really shouldn't speak of such things," Bess said nervously. 

Mr. Elwood's sparkling eyes glittered with good humor at his sister's discomfort. "What things?" he asked wiggling his brows at her. 

"Oh don't stop on my account!" Mary cried.

"Let's just say, Henry and I share a common predilection that plagues all younger sons. Too much time on our hands and not enough interests to fill the void. While Henry took it on the chin and married- well, ugh-hm! I went another route."

Henry played his highest card. He leaned towards Ann. "Elwood's father, unlike mine, is quite keen to fund his debaucheries. I really ought to increase my wagers on this game!"

The conversation soon turned to marriage again. 

"Why haven't you remarried, Lady Ann?" asked Mr. Elwood. "It's such a waste for a woman of your beauty, grace and intelligence to remain widowed."

Ann studied her cards intensely and looked over the other cards laid out. "I prefer not to fall under coverture again. Besides my children will want suitable marriages when they leave school. My focus will turn to that. I am quite content with my lot." 

Henry coughed loudly into his fist.

"I can't wait to be married and set up my own house," Mary said with a wistful sigh towards Mr. Elwood. No one paid her any attention. 

"I say its prudent not to marry unless its absolutely necessary," Bess spoke up then and gestured for a footman to pour more wine. 

"Yours is the happiest of marriages!" Henry protested. "You have a spouse who loves you so much he is happy to be away months on end so you may never grow tired of him."

Bess slumped in her chair a bit as she laid down a low card. The wine had made her cheeks rose and her her whole carriage soften. "I suppose I married for an adventure. Only he's been the only one free to explore-"

"Explore what?" asked Henry playfully. 

Mr. Elwood's eyes narrowed all of a sudden but then just as quickly he raised his brows and pushed back playfully till his chair tattered on two back legs. "No need to mince words on account. My brother and I enjoy a cordial relationship, but I wouldn't call us friends. Pretend I am anyone else but your husband's brother and tell us the truth!"

"What are you talking about?" asked a very confused Mary. 

"It just think my sister has thoughts and feelings she's withholding from us."

Lady Ann cringed inwardly when Bess burst into another peal of nervous laughter.

"Don't be rude ol' boy!" Henry admonished his friend. "Look, you're making poor Bess quite nervous."

"Marriage is a complicated matter," said Lady Ann observing Bess through the corners of her eyes. "Even in this modern age when every one of the gentry seem to fancy marriage to be based on love."

"As it ought to be!" Mary declared.

"Perhaps, but what if Cupid's arrow struck on a lowly porter, Mary? Would you lower yourself and suffer poverty for him?"

Mary's mouth pressed shut.

"When there are titles and vast fortunes at stake one can't simply reply on love to be the compass," Mr. Elwood added.

"Unless..." Henry mused. "one happens to be so powerful and rich that one could simply live in a menage a trois with one's wife and one's true love under the same roof!."

"Such a thing wouldn't be tolerated!" Bess interjected with her eyes wide and her mouth agape.

"Wealth and power being key necessities behind such an arrangement!" Mr. Elwood grinned impishly as the two men exchanged a knowing grin.

Mary cried out in scandalized delight. "I saw that play-what's the name?! Still, I can't imagine anyone doing that! It wouldn't stand, I'm sure!"

"I prefer if we changed the conversation to more pleasant topics," Bess interjected.

Mr. Elwood played his hand and won the next trick. "Speaking of marriages, I'm sorry I returned too late to see Lady Davenport for myself. Much has been made of her beauty and wit. Though one gash is the same as another- Oh! Pardon me ladies! Blimey! How many points was that?"

"Well, they're all quite pretty when they're young and fresh." With that Henry played his card.

"Evelyn does have a peculiar disposition!" Mary chimed in again. "I almost felt sorry for her as she didn't seem particularly accomplished at anything musical, though I suppose she does dance rather well. Not as well as me. In fact, my sister, Lady Warwick, was most worried Evelyn would never catch a husband with her odd disposition."

"Then you must be so relieved your dear friend did catch a husband," Lady Ann said with a casual smile. 

"They were precontracted," Mary' said with a sniff. "...Luckily."

Bess won the next trick and she mulled over her remaining cards for a long time before finally tossing one down with a shrug. "I'm determined to like her and look forward to being received by her at Keswick Hall."

"How exciting," said Lady Ann with an even smile. "When did you receive her invitation?"

"I haven't- yet, but I go to my father's in a few days and I expect we'll all be invited to dine with them. Henry, I wish you'd come as well with my sister."

Henry gave his sister a slight bow from his chair. "I'm afraid I must attend to my own affairs. You must all carry on without me. Do give my regards to Lady Davenport. She was quite charming towards me on the few occasions we met."

"I'd love a chance to meet Lord and Lady Davenport," Mr. Elwood said casually. "Perhaps I'll come for a visit on my way to the seaside. What do you think, Bess?"

"You can't mean for that man to play a part in our scheme!" Lady Ann said later to Henry. "Your friend is certainly handsome and charismatic but he's crude and looks on every woman as if he means to devour them! Evelyn will not like him."

Henry shook his head. "Have faith. Ainsley Elwood has a proven record to wretch destruction and destroy hearts wherever he goes, believe me!. And since I can't get the job done myself .-"

"After that stunt you pulled at the club, I doubt Lord Davenport would let you near his county let alone his wife!"

"Sadly, Philip Mallory proved to be a disappointment. Where's he been hiding since his cousin's marriage anyway? Do give Elwood a chance. He can be quite charming when he wants to and he'll serve our purpose well. Trust me."

Lady Ann wasn't so convinced. "And have you spoken to him of our purpose?"

"Of course not! I'm not stupid you know. I'm learning from you to set the scene and let nature take its own course."

Lady Ann grimace and she quickly glanced around to be certain they weren't overheard. "Perhaps not. It seems Lord Davenport isn't satisfied the attack on his wife was a singular, isolated event. He's quietly dispatched a squadron of skilled agents to discover everything there is to learn of that creature you hired. They're meticulously going over every part of that filthy creature's life. Are you quite certain there's nothing in the dead man's possession that might link him back to you... or me?"

Henry sucked in a breath through his teeth as sweat started to bead across his forehead and roll down his temple. He thought long and hard. "There's nothing. I swear it! I made certain he never knew who hired him. Since dead men tell no tales-"

"He might have mentioned something to someone." Ann shook her head. "We can't take chances. What makes the Marquess of Davenport a dangerous foe is his dogged determination when he's set his mind to something."

"Perhaps he only claims to be investigating the matter to appease his nervous wife?" Henry asked hopefully. 

"She's quite ignorant of what he's doing."

"How do you know this?"

"I have my ways, Henry. Lucky for us that I do. We can't leave things to chance. He must be diverted!"

Henry didn't take but a moment before a wide smile spread across his face. "Then I think my sister will prove plenty useful."

"Don't be stupid! Lady Bess St. James is a pretty girl but she has a marble in the place of a brain. That laugh!-"

Henry shook his head. "You sometimes overestimate what attracts a man. But I wasn't thinking of THAT! Let me acquaint you with the often absent Lord St. James-"

Henry spoke quickly and quietly into Lady Ann's ear. It took but a moment for Ann's feline eyes too to sparkle. "Then I think we have what we need! But Henry, we must be even more careful for if we do this and we're discovered, we'll be inviting a much more dangerous and catastrophic enemy than even Davenport! "

Henry clasped his hands together gleefully. "Then let the games begin!"

****************

Keswick Hall sat proudly on the high bank of a river that fed into several ponds. It was surrounded on either side by expansive gardens and parkland, and backed by wooded, rocky hills. The structure of the house itself was a fine example of centuries of ever evolving style and tastes. The current outer shell of simplistic English baroque with it's elegant lines, white urns and Corinthian porticoes, belie an inner web of interlocking gothic galleries and Tudor niches. An entire far wing was cordoned off and under scaffolds for more renovation. 

"The Master often invites the brightest young minds to pursue his collections and share with him their discoveries and inventions," explained the head housekeeper, Mrs. Evans, with a stone face as impassive as her master. "That part of the house will be used as a laboratory of sorts."

Evelyn's shaky speech to the staff assured them she wouldn't interfere with the mechanics of their day to day. And from the reception she received she had a feeling none saw her presence as the new mistress as a threat or disruption. Every part of the house and estate was impeccably maintained with military precision by a well-trained staff with the singular devotion to the Marquess of Davenport's desires and tastes. 

In her letters to her brother Edward, Evelyn spoke of nothing but the lush surrounding lands with it's hills and ponds where there was plenty of game and fish. To Charlotte, Evelyn praised Keswick Hall with platitudes of praises for the art collection, the beauty of the whole place. To her friend Lady Ann, Evelyn allowed herself to let some of her uncertainty and loneliness seep through. 

Evelyn wrote in her letter to Lady Ann: "Country life is not as peaceful and idyllic as one might think. There's a litany of building projects all around. I won't bore you with the details of every building project here at the Hall or down at the village. I can't pretend to understand the work behind irrigating farm lands. Suffice to say everything is done under my husband's direction and scrutiny. He seem to thrive in the midst of chaos, so I've made it my duty to simply stay out from underfoot."

That letter was written and rewritten till Evelyn was satisfied it wasn't full of self pity. She told herself she simply had no right to complain. In the month they'd been married, Lord Davenport kept his word and never once spoke harshly to her. Then again, he rarely had an opportunity to speak to her for any length, when he was home at all. 

Three days after they arrived at Kenswick, he was called back to London for a fortnight. When he returned for a mere week, he was called away again. The days he spent at Keswick, compounded matters at the house or in the surrounding lands required nearly all his attention. In heavy rain or fog, he would ride out early and wouldn't return till late at night. In the short intervals that he was home, he in constant motion, marching in and out of the house dispensing orders to the butler or his own valet. Land agents, solicitors, bankers were constantly streaming in and out of the billiard room or his lordship's study. Several times, after Evelyn had dined alone, she would walk past the billiard room to hear the rumbling of a rousing conversation. Through the crack in the door she saw her husband always with one or two men, under a plum of cigar smoke, cracking a cue across the table. 

Every now and then Evelyn caught him staring at her with his inscrutable steely-blue glare through that door, or from a window of his study while she was out walking the gardens. That look never failed to set Evelyn's heart aflutter and made her inside turn to liquid. She lived for that brief hour, late at night, when he finally came to her bed. That was the only place when they were together, uninterrupted where no words were needed. For a brief time she had his full attention on her. But just as soon as he was finished with her, she could see his mind wander elsewhere. Those moment when he gave her a final caress and left her bed for his own were the worst for Evelyn. The feeling of abandonment was palpable. More than once she cried herself to sleep, but at least, when he was in the house, she slept. 

Three days after they arrived at Keswick, Lord Davenport left again. Almost immediately, Evelyn had the eerie feeling she was being watched constantly, even when she knew she was alone. At night, when the last scullery maid had gone to bed, the foreboding silence took ghostly shapes that lumbered past her chamber doors. When Evelyn called out and flung the doors open, there was no one there! 

That night, Evelyn had a dream. It was a recurring dream from her childhood. Against an angry dark crimson sky, a giant, bald oak tree spread out it's mass of snarling bald branches over a hill of slug and slim. Beneath it stood a lone woman dressed all in black, her face shrouded and obscured beneath a veiled of dark netting. When Evelyn saw the woman, she felt an instant rush of longing. Evelyn would always run towards the dark lady, only her legs would not move. She looked down realized that her legs had sunk into the marsh with tall reeds wrapped around her ankles to keep her in place. As Evelyn watched, terrified, the dark lady, turned to leave. Evelyn screamed and screamed with her whole heart to call the woman back! But no sound came from her throat. And no amount of tears could make the woman turn back! 

The moment Lord Davenport returned after a long fortnight, the house cast off its gloom and filled to the rooftop balustrade with life and light again! But even his intensely overpowering presence could not stave off her nightmares. That first night of his return, after they had made love, Evelyn dozed off immediately. The dark lady rose up before her underneath that same old oak tree. Once more Evelyn tried to run to her, but once more her legs wouldn't move. When the dark lady turned to go, Evelyn waved her arms wildly to call her back. Suddenly the giant oak's branches descended upon her! It's giant branches reached out and told ahold of her arms. Evelyn screamed in terror and fought back. The branches turned into massive strong hands that was pushing her down into the marshland at her feet. Evelyn cried out again and tried to tear herself from the beastly grasp! 




Duplicity Ch. 06



"Evelyn! Evelyn, wake up!"

Evelyn forced her blurred eyes open and looked up into Lord Davenport's crystal blue eyes. It was his hands holding her by the arms. His arms that drew her against him enfolded her into his warm embrace. With lingering terror and sudden relied, all she could do was cry against his bare. broad chest as he stroked her hair and shushed her.

"Oh what am I to do with you? Hmm poppet?" he asked. His word were playful but his voice was gentle and soothing. "Still having nightmares like a child? Come! No more tears now. I'm here!"

Evelyn clung to him as he rocked her as if she truly were a child. "It's always the same," she whimpered against him as an image of the snarling oak flashed before her. "Always the same..."

"Tell me about the dream."

She hesitated, certain that he mock her, but he was quite determined to have her tell him every detail of the awful dream..

"You've had this dream before. When you were first brought to my house in town, you were feverish for two days. I've heard you repeatedly calling out to some lady to stay awhile. Is it the same dream?"

Evelyn's overwrought mind tried to make sense of what he said. Lord Davenport at her sick-bed? He was there? Did Charlotte or Philip ever mention it? But her present terror soon pushed all other thoughts from her head. "Yes. I've had the same recurring dream since childhood. "

"This veiled woman, is she someone known to you?"

"I think so. I can't be certain."

"Evelyn, do you think she's perhaps your mother?" he asked quietly. 

Evelyn bite her lips and slowly nodded. "I believe so but I have no clear memory of my mother or even a likeness to confirm it."

"Ah but you do," he said to her as he cupped her face in his palms and looked upon her admiringly. "You see it every day in the mirror. Except for the color of your eyes and those dimples, there's no other resemblance to the king that I can see in you. I think you know this. Is that why you don't like compliments to your beauty?"

That struck a deep core in Evelyn and her face crumpled. "How can anyone feel pride for resembling a whore," she choked out and hide her face. He will surely say something horrible to her now and she steeled herself again it.

Lord Davenport merely stroked her hair gently. "Is that how she was described to you? Listen to me Evelyn. Sometimes, in life, certain things happen- between men and women it- defies simple explanation. I wouldn't be so harsh on a woman whose face you can't remember, who you've never known."

Her voice was small, hesitant but hopeful. "Is it possible, after so long now- is it still possible to find her?" She quickly looked up at him. Her large oceans of dark blue pleading with him. "If you would help me, it may be done more discreetly and no one will ever know. I just - I have to- its hard to explain why but I need to know, at the very least her name."

He knew she would make the request, had anticipated that it would come, so he knew exactly what his reply would be. "There's no way of knowing what is possible and what isn't until an attempt has been made. I think you've attempted to find her several times already. You, asking me this now means you've made no discovery yet."

Evelyn nodded. "There's not a letter, no memento to go on - no trace at all."

"And there may never be. And if there were, what if her discovery brings you no peace because she's in a worse than what you can imagine?" 

She looked up at him with large, brimming eyes. "Do you think-?."

"I don't know," he admitted to her. "I'm merely floating the possibility that her discovery may cause you more pain. If she lives, you discovering her may cause her pain as well. Perhaps, the past is not something she wants revisited."

"But it may not!" she insisted. "I can't know for certain, as you say. The past shouldn't be so painful... not for everyone!"

He took her hands and kissed her fingers. "Life is still full of hope and infinite possibilities for you isn't it? Cynicism hasn't touched this unblemished brow."

Evelyn glanced over to his bare shoulders and let her fingers trace the faint indent of an old scar there. "And that's why you won't speak of your past?"

"I seem to recall telling you quite a bit," he gently reminded her.

"Briefly, and in broad strokes."

"Stiff upper lip sweetheart. Revisiting unpleasant memories in detail serves no purpose, Evelyn. I've not reached the time in my life for reminiscing."

"Not even to ease your mind and relieve whatever burden it is that you carry in your heart?"

"Too many men I know fall into the deep abyss of wallowing, till they can't crawl out again. Simply because they've convinced themselves that the past weighs too heavily on them to carry forth."

"Your free will not let you be hampered by a bit of introspection," Evelyn argued. "Our past may inform our future even. I think by not exploring the paths we've traveled, the choices moving forward is much too limited, don't you think?"

His gaze drifted from her eager upturned face to her pressed pressed up against his chest then up to her glossy, pillowy mouth that hung slightly open. 

"I think that was the very speech Pandora gave too," he said with a little smile. 

The air crackled with the sudden surge of carnal energy when he leaned down to urge her lips apart with his tongue. He leaned into her for a bruising, breathless kiss then backed away slightly to nibble on her lower lip. From her trembles and moans, he knew she wasn't thinking of anything but what he was doing to her.

That night, he stayed with her and held her till she fell asleep again. He stayed the following night too. Till the fifth night Evelyn slept through the entire night without disruption.

Then he was to leave again and Evelyn nearly flung herself at him to beg him to stay or at least take her with him. But she didn't. He had been so kind and gentle with her since they married, but she didn't trust that his old self wouldn't return. Instead, Evelyn watched him ride off down the gravelly path on his magnificent grey steed with a great lump in her throat and tears brimming in her eyes. 

Luckily the weather started to warm up and all the flowers in the rolling fields blossomed into a carpet of rich colors. Evelyn took to taking long walks beyond the gardens to the fields near a fishing pond. 

One day she happened upon a young nobleman, with his hat in hand, watering his large chestnut steed the pond.

"Hello, Ainsley Elwood!" she called out as she drew nearer.

The young man turned and his handsome face broke into a wide smile. "Lady Davenport!" he shouted back and greeted her with a deep, courtly bow. 

"Such formalities between old friends?" Evelyn asked and stretched out her gloved hands. "I'm so very glad to see you again, I could barely keep from running from the house when I got your note. How long have you been back dear Ainsley?"

Mr. Elwood winked at her as he held her hands to his lips. "Remember, I'm not the sort of man any reputable Lady should call her friend., Evie. Not in public."

Evelyn's smiled happily. "Luckily I've always believed true friendship trumps reputation."

Mr. Elwood squeezed his eyes shut as he pressed another firm kiss on the back of her hand. "My dearest lady. You're a good girl, Evie. The best I've ever known. I wish I were a better man, worthy of you."

Evelyn openly laughed at him. "Worthy-! Oh Ainsley! Still such a rake!." Evelyn went to the dark chestnut colored horse to pet it's mane. The horse turned its neck to nuzzle her a bit then returned to the water again.

Mr. Elwood turned to rub his horse's mane too as the beast continued to drink. "All in service to my king," he said cheerfully as he brushed some hay out of the beast. 

Evelyn grew somber and bit her lower lip. "Are you still? When I heard you've returned home, I assumed that's all behind you."

The man beside turned to her and smiled roguishly. "Were you worried for my safety, sweet Evie?"

"Don't flirt!" she retorted. "I know better than to worry about you. You've always been resourceful. Still I don't have to like the nature of what you do, always in the shadows, always dancing on the edge of danger. And no, I know nothing of the specifics of what you do. Just tell me you've returned for good!"

Ainsley Elwood donned his hat again and looked out onto the rippling water, suddenly quite serious. "Well, I don't know if that part of my life could ever be behind me. I'm more useful to his majesty as a drunken libertine rather than who I am. But who am I? There's no clear line between the man and the facade anymore. ... Gosh it's good to see you Evie! I won't tell you you're more beautiful than ever as I know you hate that, you odd little thing. And now you are married! I'm terribly pleased for you- Should I be pleased for you? Is he good to you? "

Evelyn turned away to wiped the horse hairs from her gloves on her skirt. "Do you know my husband? Have you met him?"

"I've not been formally introduced but I know him on sight and by reputation. Not a bad sort. He is amongst a few whose support is key to both the Tories and the Whigs on this new reform measure. I saw him several times at his club in London, always in the middle of some heated debate."

Evelyn studied his way closely. "Is that your way of telling me, he hasn't deserted me for someone else?" Evelyn quipped. "I'm sure it's common knowledge he's often away from home."

Mr. Elwood merely folded his lips inwards into a sheepish smile. "The thought has crossed my mind that - you might worry. He's away too much for a newly married man. Still, I'm sorry if I offended you with my insinuation. Uncovering secrets are almost second nature to me now. But, I can happily report legitimate business keeps your husband from you, not some over-tressed tart."

Evelyn nodded and exhaled deeply. "I know you always have my interests in mind." She lowered her eyes to the ground briefly before looking back up at him again. "And about that matter you and I spoke of - is there any news?"

Mr. Elwood shook his head, no. "Certain matters are of public record, but other things are kept well hidden. I've tried Evelyn, but even Edward thinks its pointless to pursue it further. Your mother, whoever she may be, simply does not wish to be discovered."

A deep blush rose up in Evelyn's cheeks but she nodded gravely. 

"I should go," Mr. Elwood said as he pulled his horse from the water's edge and swung himself up on his saddle. "It would be terribly hard to explain this if we're seen."

"Then you must come up to the house and pay a proper call!" Evelyn said, smiling up at him brightly once more. "I won't have you ride off without offering you tea."

"Sweet Evie! Perhaps another day. I suppose I wouldn't mind if you told your husband about our friendship, if the need ever arises. But to others, well - you know why. Oh! I came today with another purpose! Has Edward written to you? Do you know where he's set up?"

"I've sent him a few letters to the usual places. They're usually forwarded but he's yet to reply. You know how erratic Edward can be. Why?"

Mr. Elwood glanced around with one hand shaded over his brow line to block out the bright sunlight and to keep Evelyn from seeing the worry in his eyes. "I'm not certain. Just a feeling of mine that maybe I ought to join him for a bit, wherever he may be. Perhaps being back home, and now seeing you again, makes me long for the old days."

"Have you contacted your own brother?" Evelyn asked carefully. 

"We don't- correspond. But if you happen to learn Edward's location, will you send word to me? I'm staying in town."

"Then you must come for a visit!"" Evelyn urged.

"Perhaps. Good bye for now!"

For the rest of the day, Evelyn felt a lightness in her step. Mr. Elwood's visit cheered her to no end and she spent the rest of the day humming softly to herself and imagining a visit with her brother and Mr. Elwood together. She wondered how her husband would get on with the two men. Evelyn's good mood continued when she sat in a hot bath that night. She barely leaned back in the tub before her maid, Martha rushed in.

"His lordship's back my lady and he's asking for you!" the young maid announced excitedly. 

"His lordship! " Evelyn bolted up and sloshed water out of the tub. A drizzle from the tub hit the marble floor in a steady stream. It exacerbated the pounding in Evelyn's heart and head. "Here? Is he in my bedchamber?"

"No my lady, he's asked for you in his rooms."

"He's never asked me to his rooms," Evelyn said half to herself. "Then again, I can never expect predictability from him!" 

"My lady?" Her maid queried, anxiously. "What should I say? Will you go to him?" 

"At once!' Evelyn replied. 

A footman was waiting for her Evelyn when she emerged from her rooms. She had hurriedly through on a chemise and wrapped herself in a robe. They entered a part of the house Evelyn had yet to explore. Before a set of large gilded doors another footman stood at attention. The first joined the second to part the doors for her and bid her to enter.

It took Evelyn a moment to take in a sitting room she entered. It almost resembled a library of sorts with nearly all the walls lined with books and nautical maps of sorts. To her right was another set of doors, that lead to what she could only assume was the sleeping chamber. Something made her turn to her left where a cozy fire burned in a massive marble fireplace. 

There, her husband sat still in his traveling clothes, thoughtfully stroking his chin as he stared into the orange glowing fire. 

"M-my lord?" Evelyn called out hoarsely and felt her heart sink to her feet when he neither moved nor gave any indication he felt her presence.

A minute ticked by. He lifted a glass of wine to his tips and tossed it back.

"My boots are tight," he said after a while holding out his empty glass to her. "Will you remove them for me?"

Evelyn obedienly went to him ad set his glass de before kneeling at his feet. She set pulled his boots off and was about to stand again if he hasn't trapped her body between his thighs. The look in his eyes was indescribable. It sent a shudder, not out of lust, but out of true fear, down Evelyn's spine.

When he spoke, his voice was soft and strangled somehow. "And how are you, Evelyn? Haven't been missing me too much have you?"

She replied with a more steady voice than she felt. "How long will you stay this time sir?"

Lord Davenport leaned back into the chair. "I know I've neglected you. It simply can't be helped. Believe me-"

Evelyn tried to extricate herself but he wouldn't budge. "I think you're angry with me sir, and I'm not sure why."

"Am I angry with you? Do I sound angry?"

"No but- "

"Do I have reason to be angry pet?"

A ringing alarm sounded in Evelyn's head. "If there's nothing else my lord, I'll leave you to rest. You've had a long journey," she said quickly and tried to push at his hard, immovable thighs.

"I did have a long journey," he agreed as he leaned towards her, his intense gaze fixed upon her.. "I rode non-stop to get back to you, Evelyn. Won't you stay with me for a bit?"

Her head snapped up with surprise. She was even more surprised when he kissed her lips. It was a passionless, soft kiss, tinged with sadness. His melancholy washed over her and made tears spring to her eyes and she couldn't explain why. 

"What's the matter Evelyn?" he asked as he pressed his forehead to hers. "Tell me what you're thinking."

"I-I'm terribly lonely here," she blurted out without thinking..

He pulled away from her. There was no mistaking his sadness. 

"I'd like to send for my friend Lady Ann, but you've forbidden my friendship with her!" Evelyn continued, "And even Philip has been sent away-"

"I did not send Philip anywhere!" he interjected with a tightening of his jaw. "Philip is not a gentleman of leisure. What income he has, he has from me. In return he attend to interests of mine, wherever they may be." 

"But what of Lady Ann?" Evelyn insisted on knowing. In her fervor to plead for her friend, she missed Lord Davenport's the slight grimace. "Why would you forbid me to see her?"

"It's not for you to question my decisions," he said flatly. At Evelyn's determined look, he relented a bit. "We'll invite Charlotte's entire family here for the summer-"

"Charlotte is a wonderful friend, and I'm glad to have her," she replied. "But she has her own family, her own household to look after. Edward says I'm too aloof, too cold to make friends easily. But Lady Ann offered me her wisdom and friendship without purpose or agenda when when I had the most need for kindness. I can't forget the service she rendered me! Not ever! You may banish her from my life, but you can't banish her from my heart."

Lord Davenport was gripped by her passion and sincerity. His expression softened as caressed her cheek . "You're loyal to your friends." 

"It's a necessary ingredient to friendship," she replied.

He nodded slowly. "I agree. You may - invite Lady Ann to visit if that makes you happy. Someday, perhaps you and I too may share such a friendship."

If his words sounded odd, Evelyn didn't notice. Her cheeks dimpled and she leaned forward to kiss his cheek in gratitude. He leaned into her to breath in her soft fragrance. She felt his need rise but rather than kissing her again, he pulled away however reluctantly. 

"You're right Evelyn," he said looking past her at the fire again. "I am rather tired. Go back to bed now and we'll see each other in the morning. "

Lord Davenport turned away from Evely's look of shock and disappointment to continue to stare into the fire. Sometime after she left, a large man bearded in a long overcoat silently entered Lord Davenport's room. 

"Tell me again," said his lordship, his eyes never leaving the dancing flames.

"Lady Davenport met the young man down by the fishing pond this afternoon," said the gruff man. "Their meeting last a full five minutes and then the gentlemen road off again. They appeared to know each other as I heard her call him by his Christian name and twice I heard him refer to her as 'Evie"-"

His lordship gestured for the man to continue. "On two occasions he kissed her hands and they stood quite close. He did not touch her in any other way. But as your earlier question, yes they do appear to know each other very well, though it's hard to judge how intimate-"

"What did they speak of?"

"As I said before , I was too far away to hear their conversation, my lord. After he returned to town where he's taken rooms at the Inn. He paid for just two nights."

"This Ainsley Elwood, he's related to the Banks family, you say?"

"Brother to the former Miss Banks, now Lady St.James. She's recently arrived to visit her father and Mr. Elwood came too. He dined at the Banks house this evening." After a brief pause, the large, gruff man cleared his throat. "As for Mr. Elwood, sir- He's, the last several years he'd been traipsing across the Continent-"

Lord Davenport held up a hand. "No need. I know all about Mr. Elwood!" 

He dismissed the manservant with a nod and continued to sit and stare into the fire for a long time.

********************

All night, Evelyn tossed and turned. If she dreamed, she had no memory of it. She was restless, feverish. Her whole body screamed with aching need. 

Why did he send her back to her room without touching her? Not even an attempt to part her robe! Has he tired of her already? 

The last time he returned after a journey away, he came bounding up to her boudoir and tore into her with such hunger, that the memory of it made Evelyn flush and tremble every time she thought of it. Then her mind made a fast visit to each and every one of their slow lingering couplings, to the more urgent ruttings. 




Duplicity Ch. 06



Layla's eyebrows wrinkled, "Merle?"

"Yes, Mr. Merle was kind enough to come to my house and help reinforce some kitchen cabinets. He knows my Kostas had a stroke a couple years back and can't do much around the house. So one day, I mentioned that my cabinet door had fallen off and that my cabinets looked a little loose. Well after that he insisted on coming and taking a look. I begged him not to go through the trouble but he would not listen; he just grabbed the tools he needed and was on his way."

Layla was deep in thought. Yea, she could see Merle doing that.

Knowing him, at first he probably threw some things around in frustration. Probably cursed and grumbled at how badly the cabinets were installed in the first place. Then efficiently and patiently, he'd set it right. He probably talked to Kostas for a bit. And knowing Eleni, she probably insisted on feeding him.

The corners of her mouth couldn't help but twitch; ending in a coy smile.

She felt her body warm and her breath quicken as she imagined Merle's strong hands securely tightening the wood pieces. She quickly remembered how adeptly those rough hands massaged her thighs and caressed her sweet spot. Unconsciously she licked her lips.

"He's such a good man. Now I don't have to worry about that heavy wood falling on my Kostas."

Layla cleared her throat and uncomfortably shifted her feet. "Well I'm glad he was able to help."

"Did you need anything else Miss?"

"No that's all Eleni, thank you."

And with that she walked away unsuspectingly leaving Layla hot and bothered.

Dinnertime came around and Layla was on her way to the dining room. She walked down the hall and heard some arguing coming from what she knew was Nicole's room. The voices were muddled but distinguishable.

"... what you wanted... make up your fucking mind!" John's voice boomed.

"Such an ASSHOLE!!" Nicole screamed.

Layla shook her head and chuckled but kept walking. As she approached the dinner table, she realized she was the first to arrive. She walked around the large table, idly running her hands on the backs of the chairs.

She shook her head. She had to snap out of it, this couldn't be healthy. She was currently residing in La La land. As she chastised herself, Sienna and Jason arrived.

"You hungry?" Jason asked.

"I am. Did you cook?" Layla jokingly asked.

"Yea right. Let me tell you, this man would cook these amazing meals in New York. I'm talking... take a picture-and- ask for the recipe- good. But here? He barely makes his own sandwich."

Sienna's eyes twinkled as she looked at Jason. She'd talked to him earlier about Sean's behavior. Jason wisely told her to not rush him. It was important to let Sean take his time opening up and that she should have faith that everything would be ok. Sienna smiled. Jason always knew what to say to make her feel better.

"Hey what can I say? In New York I had to pull out all the stops to impress my lady, right?"

They all chuckled and Jason whispered something in Sienna's ear. She gasped and smacked his shoulder. "You're so bad." She replied. Jason brought her close and gave her a deep kiss momentarily forgetting Layla was there.

Layla smiled and tried to give them privacy. This was why she became a wedding planner.

A subdued but tense John and Nicole arrived and they all took their seats. John sat next to Jason and Nicole sat next to Sienna and Layla sat towards the end next to the empty seat.

Immediately Angela the head cook and her assistant brought out several piping hot dishes and carefully set them on the table. The food smelled so good. There was rack of lamb, shish-kabobs, mousaka, rice, steamed vegetables, salad and pita bread.  

"I hope my cousin makes it down in time for dinner. I don't know if I wanna save his ass any of this good food."

"Oh that's right; you said your cousin was here already. What's his name again?" Nicole asked.

"His name would be Merle." A deep voice said as it approached them.

"Merle! Oh thank goodness! You made it just in time." Sienna's voice still held traces of worry.

Merle came up and gruffly took a seat next to Layla at the end of the table. Layla looked at him and smiled but he looked straight ahead. Layla could almost feel the chill coming from his direction.

"John, Nicole, this is my cousin Merle."

"Nice to meet you." Nicole said. John nodded in greeting.

Merle was silent and wore a bored expression.

As everyone dug into the food and lightly chatted; Layla and Merle were quiet. Layla felt her frustration build. What was his problem? Such an ass. She could just as easily ignore his moody behind.

"How come I've never heard about this cousin of yours?" John quietly asked Jason.

Jason already had an explanation ready for him. "I never kept in touch with the Bane side of the family, hadn't seen him since I was little. But we recently reconnected after my father's conviction. If anyone from that side will be at the wedding, I'm glad it'll be him."

Seemingly content with his answer, John nodded. But after a while he asked, "I thought your father was an only child."

Oh crap, Jason thought. "Huh? Oh he is. Merle's mother is my grandfather's youngest sister. She had him late in life. So I guess Merle would technically be my second cousin." John pondered on his words and slowly nodded again.

Nicole silently observed Merle while she intermittently chatted with Sienna. He had this familiarity to him she couldn't quite place. Maybe she'd run into him somewhere in the City.

"So Merle, what do you do for a living?"

Merle slowly looked towards the voice that asked the question and smirked. He knew where this was going. His old friend Nicole was so predictable... not to mention a pain in the ass.

"Why, you hiring?"

"Just curious. You seem so familiar to me."

No one noticed Sienna stiffen or how Jason's eyes widened.

But Merle noticed. He chuckled and took a long drink from that trusty flask. He perused Nicole's features. It was surreal seeing and talking to her again. Her piercing brown eyes and pouty mouth never held back on what she thought of you. She sported that familiar look, intently looking at him as if figuring out a puzzle.

Memories flooded back into him, some good and some bad. And surprisingly, he was ok with it.

He cleared his throat. "I'm a retired Marine."

"Really?"

He raised his flask in salute towards her. "Really." He took another drink.

John snickered under his breath but covered it up with a cough.

This motherfucker... "You got something to say pal?"

"Merle..." Sienna warned.

"No but I'll be sure to let you know as soon as I do." John quickly countered.

"Just say what you wanna say with your pussy ass. Nobody's stopping you." Merle coolly answered.

"Calm the fuck down... both of you." Jason interjected.

"The fuck did you just call me?!"

"You heard me, you-"

"Just seem soo familiar to me... You sure we haven't met before?" Nicole asked, ignoring the tense interchange.

"The City is a big place, Nic." Sienna remarked.

"No, I know. I can't think of it now but it'll come to me."

Merle looked at Nicole and grinned as a thought came to him. "Well, I do work part-time security at an adult super store on Mercer and 8th Street called Naw-T by Nature."

Silence.

Everyone erupted in laughter.

Nicole's face flushed red in embarrassment. She covered her face and chuckled. "Yep that's probably it." Merle laughed quietly because he recalled from his home surveillance check-ins she was a frequent customer.

After a content moment of silence, they resumed eating their food. Everyone except John, who was still pissed and deep in thought.

"No fucking way this guy was a Marine." He said under his breath.

It was so quick; if you blinked you would've missed it. With swift agility Merle grabbed his sharp steak knife and hurled it towards John. The offending object stabbed a wedge of pita bread on the tray that lay a few inches in front of him. There was a collective gasp.

"You mind passing me a slice?" Merle smiled innocently.

The color on John's face momentarily drained but was quickly replaced with a light pink color... as he became completely enraged. His fists vibrated and his knuckles turned white.

Silence

"Let's go for a walk John." Jason's voice sliced through the tension. "Come on. Let's walk it off."

Sienna silently bit her nails observing the scene while Nicole polished off the rest of her dinner as if nothing had happened.

John roughly got up, slammed his chair and stalked out of the room.

Jason shot a warning glare and pointed at Merle. "That... was unnecessary. You need to calm the fuck down." His tone brokered no argument. He kissed Sienna on the cheek, whispered something in her ear and walked after John.

Merle's fists clenched as he tried to compose himself. He breathed deeply and evenly. Through the haze of his anger, he felt a soft touch.

He looked down and realized Layla's delicate hand rested on top of his.

For the first time all day, he looked into her eyes. Everything slowed down and blurred around them.

This is why he needed to ignore her.

It was so easy to be rendered powerless in her presence. Her beautiful bright eyes held his in concern and silent strength. She squeezed his hand and he felt himself calm for the first time all day. Merle's thumb lightly rubbed hers in appreciation.

Sienna shook her head in disgust. "Have you lost your damned mind?! You better change your attitude and quick. You hear me?" Her voice was stern. She didn't even flinch as she stared Merle down. In that moment Sienna was the spitting image of their mother Sharon, when they'd finally gotten on her last nerve.

Merle pursed his lips, slightly nodded in acknowledgement and finally looked away.

Nicole looked at Sienna in admiration and was taken aback. Her best friend was not usually so direct with people. Maybe it was true what they said about baby hormones and Mama Bear instincts.

Nicole gave Merle a toothy grin. "Welcome to the family."

_______

Outside in the courtyard, John furiously stalked from side to side like a tiger in a cage. Jason observed him while he poured them a drink from the bar.

"What the fuck Jay! Are you sure this guy is your cousin?"

Jason sighed, "Yes John. Why the fuck do you keep asking that?"

"Listen man, I'm your best friend. It's my job to watch your back. And something just ain't right with that dude."

"You worry too much."

"I worry too much? It seems like you don't worry enough. If you haven't noticed you're fucking rich, man. It would be too easy for some joker to pose as a long lost family member to swindle money out of you."

Jason slowly exhaled. This was what he was afraid of. John was fiercely protective and knew everything about him. He would have to make some shit up and quick... before Merle's identity was compromised.

"John man, I appreciate your concern. But do you think I'm stupid? When Merle and I were reunited, I told him I wanted to research our lineage to complete our family tree or some shit like that and I would need his DNA. So I swabbed him and sent it to the lab; to make sure we were really related. You're my best friend man, my brother. So I need you to get along with little family I have left."

John looked surprised and his features softened. He inhaled and exhaled. "I'm sorry man... I guess I was totally off-base. I've just been on edge lately."

Jason clasped his shoulder. "It's alright man."

They drank their Scotch in silence.

"So does little Miss Nicole have anything to do with you being on edge lately?"

John's guilty expression and silence was enough of an answer.

"Right. Ok well all I'm gonna say is, be careful with that one. You need to chill out man, relax; always on edge and shit. I'm getting married, you're my best man, and we're on a beautiful island. Just enjoy it. Tomorrow I'm gonna take you to the beach so your pasty ass can get a tan."

John laughed. "Alright man. That sounds good."

__________________

After a little while Merle felt his lonely hand cool. He looked to his side and realized Layla was gone. He'd been thrown off base with Nicole's welcoming him to the family. Merle sighed and silently left the table.

He shot a glance towards Sienna. "Good night Merle. We'll talk tomorrow," was all she said.

Merle stopped outside Layla's door and hesitated in knocking. He paced up and down the hall, muttering to himself, pondering on what to say.

He knew she was probably angry at him but he needed to explain. Give her some kind of an explanation. He needed to tell her how much last night meant to him. Tell her the truth. He laid his forehead on the door seemingly conflicted. But there was no way he could tell her everything now, there was too much going on.

He had to tell her. All or nothing.

After a couple of minutes, he braced himself and knocked on the door.

No answer.

He knocked again. "Come on Layla, open up. I just want to talk."

No answer.

Was she that mad at him? If she would only open the door, he would tell her.

He banged on the door. "Open up sweetheart."

Huh.

No answer.

She obviously didn't want anything to do with him.

Maybe it was best this way.

This whole situation was already so fucked up. What did he think? He would tell her the truth. Oh hey sweetheart, guess what? I've been pretending to be a completely different person the whole time we've been together. I'm actually the bride-to-be's dead brother... who is running from the U.S. government... and Al Qaeda terrorists. Oh and I think I might be I'm falling in-.

Merle shook his head and bitterly chuckled. So fucked up.

No. This was good. The less she knew the better, the less danger she would be in.

He didn't need another distraction. He would never forgive himself if something happened to her. That was it, he made up his mind. He'd just have to make a clean break. Merle sadly looked at the unresponsive door; this would obviously be harder on him than her.

He knocked again.

No answer.

"Fuck it!" He huffed. He walked away and slammed his bedroom door.

...

Five minutes later Layla walked down the hall.

She'd decided to make a stop at the kitchen before going to bed. Her arms were full of bounty of junk food... a necessary companion tonight. She had ice cream, whipped cream, chocolate bars, marshmallows, gummy bears and potato chips.

There was enough to feed an army. And she didn't have a twinge of remorse about it either.

She didn't know why she felt the need to put her hand on Merle's at dinner. She couldn't help it. When she realized what was happening, it was too late.

It was just like two magnets that got a little too close. Kind of like them.

Layla shook her head. She didn't want to think about that now. Tonight she would have a good old fashioned pig out.

She shrugged. Tomorrow morning she'd just work it off in the small gym she'd found down the hall.



Duplicity Ch. 07



Hey guys! 

So here is the next chapter. This one is a bit dark compared to the others. Let me know what you think.



Layla woke up bright and early the next day. She needed to get to the gym. She grabbed her water bottle and towel and headed down the hall. 

Feeling sluggish from last night's self-induced sugar coma, she slowly trudged along. She sighed, serves her right. Why does pigging out always seem like a good idea at the time but after the fact you're beating yourself up about it. 

She'd be fine. She would just push through it. 

As she walked down the hall her thoughts inevitably went to Merle. She stopped in front of his door, raised her fist to the wood... and hesitated. 

She inhaled and exhaled. Nope. Not right now. What was she thinking? It was way too early and she did not need to be distracted right now.

Turning the corner, she continued towards the end of the hall. She wondered if this gym was even open. The other gym on the first floor was always an option. It was huge and luxurious; definitely bigger than her local fitness center back home.

She hadn't seen anything like the one here. It was complete with weight stations and all the state of the art equipment you could imagine. Directly next to it, there was a Turkish bath with elaborate saunas, salt and fresh water pools and therapeutic steam rooms. There was even a couple of massage therapists that were ready to work on you when you arrived. 

The temple-like structure was designed with intricate blue and green mosaic tile work and high ceilings with natural light. The bath doors lead you outside to a private infinity pool and fresh juice and smoothie area.

Pure heaven.

Although all that sounded... wonderful. The small gym down the hall was exactly what Layla needed; small and intimate.

It was rather strange it was on the 4th floor in the first place. She hoped they didn't mind if she used it.

Jason and Sienna had a rule that all who was employed by them had to take an hour a week just to unwind. 

They believed it promoted good health and good health led to productivity. Hippies... they were affectionately called by the locals. It was unheard of that the help share the owners' facilities. It was easy to see why the Bane estate was the most popular place for anyone in the service industry to work.

She walked through the door and stopped when she heard something. She quickly scooted to the door's corner. There was someone already here. That's odd. It was barely 6am. 

She discretely peered around the corner and could make out a tall, bald man who was very strong. Squinting her eyes, she concentrated on the fast movements. The man was completely focused and didn't realize she was there. He appeared to be performing some kind of mixed martial arts moves. He wore loose white pants and was bare-chested and barefoot. 

Layla stood transfixed as the man's swift and agile movements overpowered the small space. His back was towards her so she observed quietly. He was so succinct it almost looked like a coordinated dance. A lethal calculated dance.

He slowed his movements and she was able to really observe him. 

Both hands faced heavenward as if in solemn prayer. Slowly his right arm extended and sliced the air like a knife. He let out what sounded like a soft hiss and pulled it back slowly. 

His arms flew like a tight windmill around him and then slashed down towards the floor with a grunt.

His back arched and he flipped in the air as if dodging his opponent's blow. 

Layla watched as if in a trance. Whatever he was fighting would surely be dead by now.

He continued throwing jabs and powerful blows to his invisible opponent. The only sounds she could hear were distinct exhales and soft grunts. 

It really was spectacular to watch. He was so quick and unpredictable; every second deserved to be documented. 

Layla noticed there were distinct tattoos that ran up his back, through both shoulders and down his chest. The dark ink swirled, blended and ran together as he moved. As if the tribal markings were running right through him... with him. 

Suddenly he flipped and held himself on one hand while looking down. He slowly held his whole body upside down on his right hand. 

Layla could almost feel his fierce concentration. He stayed in that unmovable unnatural pose for a couple minutes. Testing his strength against his own body. 

There were tiny beads of sweat that carelessly dropped to the floor. His right arm's veins bulged and his body softly vibrated. But he held his perfect posture while upside down. His face seemed serene, calm. Then he slowly descended that same hand creating the most difficult reverse pushup she'd ever seen. One-handed and upside down. He held his position there as he gazed to the floor... in defiance of the odds. 

She got a good look of his eyes then. They looked to be crystal bluish green, like the shallow end of a bottomless lagoon. 

Just then his gaze connected with hers. Layla shrieked in surprise; a second before the stranger slipped out of balance and tumbled to the floor.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to startle you." Layla rushed over to try to help him.

Silence.

But he was already up before she reached him. 

"Are you alright?"

The stranger looked at her with a neutral face. 

While close Layla noticed the intricate design of his chest tattoos. She thought it was one design but it was actually different ones that ran together. Some foreign text and markings she guessed might be Arabic. It looked like there might be scars covered by the design. When he caught her looking at him he quickly walked away and grabbed his towel from a bench. He threw the towel over his right shoulder.

"I didn't know anyone used this place. I just came in for a workout and didn't want to interrupt you. Do you work here or are you a guest? My God I'm sorry I could've sworn I met everyone here in the house." 

Silence. 

The stranger looked at her curiously. Layla unconsciously scratched the back of her head. Did she really just ramble on and on? It must be the remnants of all the sugar she consumed last night. Layla was so embarrassed. Of course here she was rambling off to a man who obviously didn't speak English.

"English? Do... you.... speak... Angli-ka?" Layla huffed while trying to remember the right words. "Me le ne... Layla." She pointed to herself and then stretched out her hand in greeting.

The stranger continued to look at her as if considering her words. But then he abruptly turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her with her hand hanging mid-air. Layla stood there confused. Even the local people she'd met had always been friendly enough to respond, even if it was in Greek. Well, she guessed not all the locals were friendly. He was probably annoyed she interrupted his little routine.

"No need to be rude asshole." She muttered under her breath.

The man confidently strode out of the gym without sparing her another glance.

Layla shrugged. Oh well, at least now she had the gym to herself.

...

Sean turned the corner, glanced behind him and slipped into his room. 

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" He punched in the air. He was fucked. Completely fucked.

He hadn't heard Layla come into the room until it was too late. 

Out of all the people to catch him; it just had to be her to see him. He didn't know how to react so he remained silent. At least for the moment she didn't recognize him. If he spoke, he wasn't so sure how long that would last. Looking back, he should've just come clean about the whole thing. 

But one look into her inquisitive eyes and he was tongue-tied. It wasn't the right time.

How could he have been so careless? With everything. He could've sworn he locked the gym door but apparently not. Sean ran his hands over his face. He was slipping in every way imaginable. Now was not the time. 

"Fuck!" He huffed again. 

His breathing was irregular and all he saw was red. Pure rage.

Suddenly he punched the wall. Immediate regret followed as he saw the crumbled pieces of drywall fall from the now gaping hole in the wall. 

Shit. He needed to get out of there. They were close, he could feel it. They were coming for him. 

But first he needed to calm down. 

He held his breath for two counts and exhaled. Held his breath. Exhaled.

When his breathing finally slowed, he was clearheaded and felt better. Awkwardly he shoved to crumbled pieces into the wall so it wouldn't look so bad. He'd have to tell Sienna it was a freak accident or some shit like that. 

After a cold shower, he got dressed and slipped out of the house. The sun was barely rising and the streets were quiet. 

He pulled his hoodie over his head and walked smoothly in the shadows staying close to the large shady trees. 

After a couple of blocks there were little shops that came into view. Down the street, Sean could see iron gates roll up and a small plump woman, humming in an apron emerged. With a large broom in her calloused hands, she happily swept the front steps oblivious of being watched. She was really into her song and at one point stopped sweeping and used the broom stick as a microphone to belt out a particularly high note. 

Someone from inside yelled for her to shut up. She made a vulgar gesture towards the door and smiled; content with the fact that she couldn't be seen. But she trudged along dutifully doing her job. 

By this time Sean scurried across the street towards her store. She hadn't noticed him and walked to the side of the building in the alley to grab a bucket of water to finish off her now pristine steps and sidewalk. 

Sean waited until she was out of sight and swiped a hat and shirt from the shop and kept walking. He was so swift, even if you would've seen him; you wouldn't have been able to catch the theft. His conscience had long ago stopped bothering him about such things. 

When he turned the corner he slid his hoodie off with one hand and with the other he was already placing the new shirt on. He threw the hoodie in a nearby trash bin. His fisherman's wool hat lay snugly on his bare head. He continued walking and there was a man who had been shining his shoes. Sean stopped and asked for the hour but didn't make eye contact with him. While the man turned around to see his watch, Sean slipped on a fisherman's raincoat perched nearby and continued walking briskly. 

Every block was different; he had to look completely different. He would grab an umbrella or someone's sunglasses. He even walked with an elderly lady a couple of steps, pretending to be her caretaker. It was impossible to keep track of him. 

About 10 blocks and 3 neighborhoods over; Sean found a secure spot and assessed his surroundings. Finally he was alone. Safe. 

But now his head hurt. Fuck. He didn't need this right now. He'd been getting those headaches more often now.

Sean had run into a dead end. There were rows of small white washed houses adorned with clothes lines surrounded by tall trees. It was still quiet and desolate. 

He found the designated payphone tucked away on the deserted side street. The illuminated lamp post hovered over it as its only companion. He punched a series of numbers on the dial and waited for a prompt. As rehearsed, when connected; he waited 30 seconds and then spoke.

"As-salamu alaykum brother." His green eyes darted from side to side, sensing any movement around him. "Uh huh. Yes. Uh huh... It's been done." 

When he hung up the phone and turned around he came face to face with a small boy.

"Motherfu-!" He bit his tongue. This kid had caught him by surprise.

The boy was probably around 6 years old. He wore a soccer jersey, gray shorts and was barefoot. His bright brown eyes looked at him curiously. The mop of brown curls graced his head while smears adorned the sides of his mouth. He was dirty and alone.

The boy gazed up at Sean in wonder as if he was looking at the Sun god. He assessed him from head to toe as if figuring him out. Sean's eyebrows furrowed as he endured the evaluation. Sean tried to figure out what the boy wanted and how the hell he snuck up on him.

The boy smirked at him as if he knew something Sean didn't. Then he beckoned Sean as if he wanted to be followed, and started walking. Sean tentatively followed, if anything he wanted to make sure he was alright. They walked and walked through the narrow cobblestone road. Soon they approached a dark alley. There was a strong stench of rotten food and garbage. But the boy didn't seem to mind. The rats roamed freely, probably wondering why these two were in their territory. 

The boy periodically looked back to make sure Sean was still following him. They stopped at a makeshift cardboard shed. He motioned for him to go under it. The boy obviously thought it was hospitable to bring in Sean, the stray, into his home.

Sean was curious but more than anything concerned for this boy. He decided to play along and earn his trust to get him to safety. Once they were under, the boy lit a match and then a nearby candle. 

"What's your name?" Sean asked.

Silence.

Sean looked around. To the right there was a small radio and little cardboard bench with playing cards. To the left there were stacked cardboards that must have been used as a bed. The boy crawled to the corner and slowly pulled out some collectable cards carefully wrapped in plastic. 

Cautiously he handed them to Sean as if it was the greatest treasure he had. The top card was of a MMA fighter posing with his fists up. The man was tall and strong and bald. 

"What's this?" 

The boy pointed to his mouth and shook his head. It was understood the boy was mute. He then pointed at the card and then at Sean.

"No that's not me little man but thanks for the compliment. He's a tough guy, huh?" Sean smirked. The boy wore the saddest expression Sean had ever seen. "Are you a tough guy?"

The boy nodded enthusiastically and made a muscle with his tiny arms as proof of his strength.

Sean looked around. "Are you hungry? Do you want to go with me?" He had to get this kid out of there.

The little boy shook his head. He took the top card and pointed at Sean's large watch. Apparently he wanted to trade. The sides of Sean's mouth twitched into a smile as he knew there was no way this would be an even trade. But he felt a pang in his heart thinking of this poor little homeless boy all by himself. Without thinking twice about it, he took his watch off and gave it to him. Sean also gave him a couple of bills he had in his wallet.

"Keep it." The boy's smile was wide and brilliant. 

Just then Sean heard a woman's voice, "Michael! Where are you? I'm going to count to three and if you're not here this very second I swear to God I'll tell Papa as soon as he gets home."

The boy panicked face shot up and his eyes opened wide. Sean didn't conceal the surprise on his face. The boy's small finger went to Sean's lips and hushed Sean to be quiet. He grabbed the cards and shiny watch from Sean and smiled at him mischievously. The boy swiftly walked out of the shed before Sean could stop him. 

"Where have you been you naughty boy? You left barefoot... and dirty? Roaming the streets like some beggar-"

"I'm sorry mommy. I just wanted to play," was his response.

"I've told you a million times. Do-Not- Play in that nasty shed. You are grounded young man. Grounded! No TV or games all day." The woman grabbed a hold of his ear and walked him down the side street. But before he left he shot the shed a last glance and winked at Sean.

Sean shook his head and chuckled. He'd just been hustled. 

When Sean slipped out, he thought he might see the boy or hear the woman again. But they were gone. He walked down the street and saw an older man reclining against a building smoking a long pipe.

"Excuse me sir, have you seen a mother and her small boy walk by?"

"There hasn't been anyone to go down this street but you." The man responded.

"Are you sure? They were just here. She was yelling at him because he was outside by himself."

"No, I would've seen or heard that. And I've been outside for an hour now."

Sean was confused. There weren't many paths they could've taken. He walked down the other way and saw a woman cleaning her outside windows. He asked the same questions. She again said, she hadn't seen or heard anything.

Strange.

He walked back to where the cardboard shed was... but it was gone. 

There was just a little pile of flattened cardboards on the floor. He looked down at his wrist but wasn't wearing his watch. But... had he even worn it today? 

Memories of the morning flooded into him. He thought of Layla. Confused and frustrated, he rubbed his temples and groaned. His migraine was back. But he brushed it off and continued on his way. He needed to get out of there.

______________ 

Santorini's famous Perissa beach was a sight to behold. 

You couldn't tell if the mighty Mesa Vouno rock formation poured into or rose out of the sea. The unmovable mountain cliff stood watch over the island...holding the island on its shoulders. Not surprisingly the Arch of Poseidon's sanctuary peeked on the side of the cliff facing towards them reminding them they were on sacred ground. 

Curious granules of black sand graced the beach. It was an eerie but spectacular phenomenon. Down the shore the black sand collided with the sea's waves in the most exotic way. 

There were brightly colored umbrella clusters scattered along the shore. The sea's gorgeous blue water sparkled as the sun hit it. Layla looked out into the ominous sea. The sun shone brightly over them all. Although the water was crystal clear, the sea floor's black sand blocked any clarity to the bottom. There was a dangerous majestic quality to the water. Like at any moment a sea creature could emerge. Stunning, Layla thought as she observed from afar.

There were plenty of people there and all were having a good time. Couples rubbed sun block lotion on each other while a group of single women took pictures. There were group of teenagers that played volleyball at a nearby net. Children's laughter and adult conversation all blended together. 

Presently, Layla was relaxing; breathing the fresh air in. She couldn't understand why in the world she hesitated on coming. This place was beautiful. 

Jason had set them up in an area that overlooked the beach. It was a private deck that featured draped canopy cabana beds, a private shower, a full size bar and waiters waiting at your beck and call. It was a little slice of heaven. 

It was private enough to be relaxing but public enough to feel a part of all the fun. And it was just what Layla needed after her hard work out this morning. She thought of the mysterious man she'd interrupted. She wondered who he was. He seemed like he might be a professional fighter of some sort. She might ask Sienna about him later.

Layla relaxed and enjoyed the sounds and smells around her. The crashing waves, the squawking sea gulls lulled her to sleep. She wore a big floppy straw hat that covered most of her face and wiggled in her bathing suit since she was not used to showing so much skin. She smiled when she thought of this morning. 

Layla had been coerced into joining Sienna, Jason, Nicole and John that afternoon. Since the wedding planning was pretty much done, they reasoned it was only right Layla enjoy the sights. She reluctantly agreed since she wanted to get out of the house. She'd thought of inviting Merle but then thought against it. Space was good for both of them. She didn't know what was going on with him and she didn't want to seem clingy. 

Before they left the house, out of curiosity, Sienna asked to see her bathing suit. Layla brought out a conservative one piece bathing suit but Sienna was having none of that. She explained that it wouldn't be unusual to see women go topless and the men would probably wear Speedos. Sienna told Layla not to worry because Nicole needed a suit as well; they just pick some up on the way. 




Duplicity Ch. 07



What had she gotten herself into? Layla was breaking rules left and right at this wedding. First with Merle and now this? Oh well, she guessed since she was all in she couldn't turn back now. Lord help her.

At the beach shop, the men went off somewhere else while Sienna, Nicole and Layla shopped. Layla was amazed at how Sienna and Jason were so well known on the island. Sure the locals knew they were wealthy but they joked and talked to them as if they were one of their own. The beach shop walls proudly displayed some of Sienna's paintings.

Sienna had a sweet bossy way about her. It was like she needed to care for everyone. It was surprising because she was the most hands off and relaxed bride Layla had ever met. Sienna was always available but often said she trusted Layla with the little details. So Layla was taken aback at how different Sienna was with non-wedding things. Sienna had a way of subtly convincing you to do something and then making you feel like it was your idea in the first place. She'd say things like, "Oh great choice," if she liked it. And if she didn't like it, she'd say, "I don't think you would like that one too much, right?" 

Layla shook her head and chuckled at her antics. Sienna was turning into a genuine friend. She never treated her like an employee. She'd often just talk to her. And now with Nicole there, Sienna made sure Layla was included in everything they did. Although Layla always initially resisted; that girl was really hard to say no to. 

Sienna wasn't self-centered or snobby as one would expect a woman to be with marrying Jason Bane. They were both regular people that happen to be pretty extraordinary. And that was hard to come by. Her few friends back home were a bit cold and competitive. Layla's wasn't really used to having someone actually caring for her. It was nice.

At first Layla was a little stiff when it came to trying a barely there bathing suit. While Nicole had no qualms about walking around the dressing room in her birthday suit. She'd brush it off saying something about how we all have the same thing and how there was no reason to be shy about it. Well she had a hell of a figure so she could say something like that. Nicole was about an inch shorter than Layla at about 5'9". Nicole was slim with not an inch of fat on her. Her body was long and lithe like a dancer but her ass had a mind of its own; round and bubbly. Her breasts weren't large by any means but were a generous size. 

Layla was glad she worked out that morning as she looked at Nicole and Sienna in their suit. She had to admit she looked pretty damn good herself.

The shop owner had brought a tray of delicious appetizers and a round of chilled shot glasses with a cloudy white drink they called Ouzo. It was strong, sweet and smooth; it tasted like licorice. That seemed to loosen everyone up and trying on bathing suits had never been so fun. 

Nicole was easy to talk to and really down to earth. She recounted funny childhood stories and they just laughed and laughed. They mentioned Sienna's brother Sean, in a lot of the stories. He was inevitably the one who would always get them into trouble. Sienna at one point brushed her happy tears away but didn't say anything. How sad to know he had passed. He was so young, Layla thought. From experience she knew it was hard enough losing a parent but losing a sibling and a best friend must have been horrible.

In the end, Sienna made them all choose three sets; promptly paid and thanked the owner and they were on their way. The men were back and ready to go. Layla decided to wear the red with white polka dots bikini, Nicole wore a bronze colored itty bity bikini that was all triangles and Sienna wore a pretty yellow halter top bikini. 

Layla smiled as she thought of it. At the moment, Sienna and Jason were off frolicking in the water, John was off somewhere talking to a group of attractive girls and Nicole was lying next to her on a lounge chair. They had cold drinks in their hand and both thought life couldn't get any better.

"So do you like being a wedding planner?"

"I guess I do. I got into it because I worked at an event planning agency while I went to college. They figured out quickly I was good at managing people and chaos. So they gave me a small account and I worked my way up from there. And so it was natural to start up a business and reap the benefits."

"I get it, that's good. But if you could do anything, what would you do?"

"Anything?"

"Anything."

Layla turned towards Nicole as she thought about the question. She hadn't thought about what she really wanted in such a long time. It had always been what she had to do.

"A flower shop maybe? I always thought about this little corner in my neighborhood that would be perfect for it. The location and positioning is ideal-" Layla caught herself and stopped talking. "Forget it, it's stupid."

"Hey! That's not stupid, that sounded pretty cool. You're stupid for thinking it's stupid."

Layla looked at her. Did she really just call her stupid?

Nicole returned her gaze; smiled and shrugged her shoulders. "Ah, you'll get used to my bluntness mami. I call it like it is. If you want a flower shop then you should have a fucking flower shop. It's not stupid; I think it's a great idea. I've seen how you work, you're a beast. You don't do shit half way, you give it your all. I admire that. Why not invest all that energy into something that will make you happy?"

Layla looked at her and was deep in thought. Let your dreams guide your goals. Nicole made it seem like the easiest thing in the world. Maybe it was.

"What about you? What do you want to do?"

"Me? I want to have a full-service surveillance and private investigator firm." Nicole beamed. She'd obviously thought long and hard about it.

"Just don't let a man cloud your judgment." Nicole continued.

Layla smiled. "Why do you say that?"

Nicole shrugged. "It's something my mom would say. She'd say, 'Chiquita... don't let a pinga be your compass in life...' In other words, 'grow your own balls before you let someone else's grow on you."

At that, Layla almost chocked on her drink. She would've never thought Nicole's mom would say something like that. She coughed and coughed but laughed in between. Nicole laughed while she pounded Layla's back to help her out. When she caught her breath, Layla chuckled and shook her head. "You really should have that trademarked." 

Nicole chuckled, "Maybe I will. I'm gonna put it on t-shirts or something."

Who knew Nicole would be so cynical? But Layla reflected on her words. She was curious. What would happen with Merle and her after the wedding? He didn't seem to be pursuing her at all. As painful as it was, maybe Layla needed to admit this was what it was. Just a fling. Nothing more, nothing less. That left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Just then Sienna and Jason approached them. They dried themselves off and sat on a lounge chair next to them. 

"Hey you guys want to grab something to eat with us?" Jason asked.

Layla was so comfortable she just wanted to stay exactly where she was. 

"Nah. I wanna stay here and chill." Nicole answered as if reading Layla's thoughts.

"How about you Layla?" Sienna asked.

"I'm ok. I'll stay here and keep Nicole company."

"Well I guess it's just you and me babe. We already asked John but he wants to stay since he's made some... friends." Sienna's eyebrow rose as she spoke.

Jason and Sienna gathered themselves together. As they walked off, Sienna said, "Let me know if you guys get hungry and want us to bring you back something. You have the cell phones we gave you right?"

Layla and Nicole nodded.

"Ok our numbers are programmed in there already."

"Yes mom. Go feed that poor baby already. You're making dizzy." Nicole saucily replied.

Sienna stuck her tongue out at her. "You. Behave. I don't need to hear about you terrorizing the locals. Layla make sure she stays out of trouble," she said smiling as they walked off. 

Suddenly Layla saw a familiar figure walking down the shore.

"No, it can't be." She sat up and took her glasses off. 

"What? What is it?" Nicole asked.

"It is him!" Layla jumped up and ran to the edge of the deck. Then took off running after someone.

"Oh my God. Hey! Remember me?" She laughed as she poked an unsuspecting large man. She couldn't believe it. Henry, the man she'd met in the London airport was here. What were the odds? She had fond memories of their short time together. He'd calmed her nerves and chatted with her the whole flight to Athens. That seemed like so long ago. 

"I'm sorry love. I think you have me confused with someone else."

"Remember from Heathrow airport? You know... baby vomit on her head." Layla chuckled.

"No! Layla the uptight American wedding planner? That can't be you at all." Henry's laugh boomed as he swept her up in a hug.

"I didn't even recognize you! You've gone and cut off your hair. I love it."

Layla smiled. "Thanks. What are you doing here?" 

"Mykonos was dreadful. No nightlife, just a bunch of old wankers. So I thought I'd hop on over to Santorini to see if I'd fair better here. I was hoping I'd run into you again."

"I'm so glad you did. Come. We're set up over here."

They walked over and she introduced him to Nicole. Henry was still his friendly, joyful self. Nicole took an immediate liking to him.

"So where are you staying Henry?" Layla asked.

"Well I'm still looking actually. It seems I've picked a rather busy time to just "hop over" without any reservations. But... I'm sure I'll find something."

Layla pursed her lips and glanced at Nicole as if asking a question.

Nicole waved them off and said, "Please... you can stay with us."

"What? Are you sure? I don't want to cause any trouble."

"You won't. I know Sienna and she won't mind. And I'm sure Jason won't mind either. Those two would take the shirts off their back to help anyone in need." Nicole said.

Layla looked at Nicole in concern.

"Really. You people need to lighten up. It will be fine, you see. So it's settled. Henry will come back with us. We'll have to ask her if he could come to the wedding of course, but I don't think she'd mind that either."

"Oh thank you! You really don't know what this means to me." Henry said sincerely.

Layla grinned and said, "It's settled then." She didn't want to admit it... but she was grateful for the company. Along with Nicole and Sienna, Henry was sure to be just the distraction she needed.

______________

After their delicious meal, Jason and Sienna talked in hushed tones. They were talking about the Sean situation and how to handle it because soon there would be a house full of family and friends. They hadn't noticed a man staring at them from a distance. 

As they walked out of the restaurant, two men discretely flanked both of their sides. As soon as they noticed the strange men, they were approached by a tall man. 

"Mr. Bane, Ms. Johnson... Can I have a moment of your time please?"

Jason and Sienna looked at each other and then at the man. For the first time, they noticed the men in suits surveying the area. And a couple more men in civilian clothing within range at street level. 

"Who the hell are you?" Jason asked, already calculating how to get them out safely.

"Not here. But it's ok, I'm a friend. I urgently need to talk to you about your brother Sean." 

Sensing there wasn't another way out of this; Jason nodded and placed a protective arm around Sienna. The man led them to his town car. A strong man with dark sunglasses opened the door for them and took his place as the driver. Once inside the tall man said he would answer all their questions when they were in a secure area. 

They drove about 15 minutes and arrived at a bank building. They entered through a side entrance which led to an elevator to the fifth floor. Sienna pressed herself into Jason as her nerves were on edge. 

They exited and were led to a large conference room. There was a massive conference table overpowering the room. It was graced with a strong stench of wood cleaner. And although there was one large window; it was still dark and damp in the room. The walls were covered in wood panels and the gray carpet was old and worn. The tall man closed and locked the door with only Sienna, Jason and him inside. He took his seat across from Sienna and Jason. 

"Okay now it's secure to talk. I'm sorry your transport had to be so cryptic. But these are necessary precautions we must take."

"Who are you?" Jason asked, repeating the same question from before. 

The man reached in and took out his Army ID and his license. He slid it on the table toward them.

Sienna examined it. When she read the name she gasped. "You're Mikhail Popov?!"

"Yes. I take it Sean has mentioned me..."

Sienna solemnly nodded. 

"What did he say?"

"Just that you were his good friend." Sienna wanted to be cautious and not give this stranger too much information. She didn't exactly trust him.

"That's right. He might have mentioned my name and the number 423267. I was born April 23rd and taking away 2 years from the year I was born which is 1965 makes 67... 4-23-2-67. I suggested using this code after Sean said he was being followed."

"What do you want from us?" Jason asked.

"I know Sean is posing as your cousin and that is fine for now. But I need to alert you of the facts so we can help him."

"What kind of facts? What kind of help?" Sienna eagerly asked. After being in the dark for so long on what Sean had gone through, she wanted to know anything, everything.

"This is going to be difficult to hear so I'm going to try to get to the point. Alright?"

They both nodded. Mikhail walked to the corner of the room towards a tall file cabinet. He opened it with his key and flipped through until he found what he was looking for.

"I have in my hands, Sean's file... while he was under my care. You see, I'm the military psychologist assigned to him after he suffered a trauma." He held a thick manila folder filled with what appeared to be notes.

"What?! What do you mean?" Sienna asked astonished while Jason listened carefully. 

"Sean might have said he was an undercover CIA operative. But the truth is he was never part of the CIA. He is actually an AWOL soldier that until recently had been presumably dead. It's top priority to get him back and get him the help he needs."

Sienna was stunned. "Sean was never in the CIA?" 

Mikhail shook his head. 

"I'm afraid not. About 5 years ago, Sean and his unit were assigned to patrol a large farm in southern Kandahar. The military had been working with the native poppy seed farmers to convert their crops to wheat. They'd offer local farmers seeds, fertilizer and credit to get them to convert their farms... anything to stop that poppy from converting into heroin. This would of course directly disrupt Taliban and terrorist funding. The problem is that, once converted many of these farms become targets for random acts of violence. So Sean and his unit were dispatched to this particular family-owned farm, which was thought to be at high risk. 

"Unfortunately when they became under attack, they did not have the manpower to defend themselves. They didn't have enough time to call for backup. Each farm family member died that day. They were decapitated in front of the bound soldiers. Since none of the soldiers would talk or give up sensitive information; one by one they were mutilated until they were dead." 

Sienna took a sudden intake of breath. Her eyes were widened. She couldn't believe what he was saying.

"For some reason they left Sean alive and took him as their only prisoner. My guess is because he was fluent in Pashto and that intrigued the Al Qaeda fighters. He was kept in captivity in a rebel camp for 2 months. At that point, his chances of survival were slim to none. But by luck U.S. and NATO Intelligence got a solid lead and rescued him... or what was left of him. But the captors were long gone by then."

At this point Sienna and Jason held their breath. After being told the most gruesome story they had ever heard. Sienna was barely holding it together and softly shook in fear of what he might say next.

Mikhail stopped talking and gave them a minute to digest the information. Seconds felt like hours.

"I'm very sorry but what I'm about to show you is disturbing." He pulled some photographs out of his folder and slid them to Sienna and Jason. It was photos documenting Sean's torture.

Sienna gasped loudly and covered her mouth. She shut her eyes tightly. The tears she held at bay with denial and disbelief freely ran down her face. She turned into Jason's shoulder and wept. She shook her head and cried out. Jason shushed her and rubbed her back in small circles. Jason's eyes were red and he clenched his teeth in anger. How could someone do such a thing? It was just too much. 

The photographs depicted an emaciated Sean. Bound and gagged. 

There was a light colored crust that covered his eyes and under his nose. His skin was covered in blotches of brown and purple; that looked to be either feces or dried blood. He was missing his bottom row of teeth, his nose was broken and his head was unevenly shaven. The bones in his shoulders poked under his skin in the most distracting way. Each rib on his cage could be counted clearly as the thin skin stretched over his frail frame. His back showed distinct pelts and angry purplish scars that traveled up his back, through both shoulders and down his chest. They must have used some kind of extra-long whip with shards of metal because the scarring ran together evenly. 

The green eyes that looked into the camera's lens were vacant, dead.

"These images were sent to us as ransom; in exchange for enemy captives we had in custody. We we're able to triangulate the image with information in the photo's background; and that's how he was rescued. 

"When I met Sean he had to gain at least 65 pounds he'd lost; needed reconstructive dental surgery, extensive shoulder repair and was severely malnourished. After a couple of months when he was physically stable, I went to work on his emotional state. It took a year to clear him for active duty... and even that was a challenge. Sean was deeply scarred and damaged. And the other things they did to him, the things we can't see... just can't be undone." 

Sienna finally gasped for air. She sobbed in pain and couldn't take much more of what he was saying. Her heart literally hurt for her brother. "No please no. Not Sean." She clenched her chest as it felt like it was caving in.

"I'm sorry Ms. Johnson. I would rather have spared you this discomfort. But I need you to understand the extent of Sean's injuries. He needs help. While I was treating him he developed a sense of invincibility. He would go on and on about how he was now an undercover CIA agent. And he needed to find some classified documents to clear his name. He said there were people in disguise trying to trap him. So I played along trying to make him feel safe. It took a while but Sean finally opened up to me. I became his friend, his confidant. But let me see here..."

The man had a serious expression as he thumbed through his paperwork. "I diagnosed him with paranoid schizophrenia with a tendency of multiple personality disorder as an onset of traumatic injury. You see they kept him alive so long because Sean somehow convinced them that he wanted to be one of them. Who knows what he had to become while he was with them. The disguise is a safety mechanism to cope with what he's been through. Because he's taken on so many personalities and disguises; they might become permanent. If left untreated... your brother, I'm sorry to say, can and will be extremely dangerous to himself and others around him."




Duplicity Ch. 07



Sienna shook her head in disbelief. "No that can't be." 

"I'm afraid it is."

"Sean is not dangerous!" Sienna said indignantly. 

"Oh yea? Let me tell you something. After Sean went AWOL, on a hunch we searched the area where he was held prisoner. Intelligence led us to a bunker where we found 24 dead bodies; slaughtered. Those men all had ties to the same radical terrorist group that kidnapped him. Twenty-four men... dead. There were only one set of unidentified footprints at the scene. You tell me if he's dangerous or not!" Mikhail's voice boomed.

Sienna's pounded her fists on the table and met his gaze dead on. "Then they probably got what they were asking for." She said through clenched teeth.

"Maybe so. But let me ask you this, have you seen him have any mood swings? Have you seen him abuse any substances like alcohol or drugs? Have you seen him lose control? Has he opened up to you about what he went through in Afghanistan? Or does his story start with his life in the supposed CIA?"

"It's been years since you've seen him Ms. Johnson. This man is not the same Sean you know. His story just doesn't add up. And I know if you really think about it, you'll agree it's true."

Sienna crinkled her eyebrows and exhaled. She thought of Sean's behavior. She shook her head as if wrestling with her thoughts. She thought about how he was always drinking. She thought about how he always seemed to be holding the weight of the world on his shoulders. She could still remember the dark tattoo swirls that peaked through his tank top. Looking at these images, those tattoos covered those scars exactly. 

No. She just got him back and she wasn't going to lose him again. Over her dead body-

"Ms. Johnson, I understand you want to protect him. But you have to come to grips with the fact that the only way to help him is to allow us to bring him to a specialized facility. Sean is an extremely resourceful man. He is quick and lethal. Hell, at one point he was even being considered to be an operations detachment delta CIA operative, a highly sought after position because he was considered an asset. But unfortunately after a year, he just didn't pass the extensive required evaluations. If he finds out we're on to him. He will run. And it might be years until we find him again. Please. Help me, help him." 

"Where will you take him?" Jason asked. Sienna looked at him in surprise. Until now Jason had been completely quiet. And he was so quickly agreeing with him?

"After your wedding, we will transfer him to a secure facility in the U.S. for debriefing and continued treatment. You will be kept abreast of where and how he is doing." Mikhail replied.

Sienna was still staring at Jason, shocked that he was even considering this.

"Princess, I know this is hard to process. But in the short time I've shared with Sean, I've come to regard him as a brother. I want the best for him. But there are little things just not right with him. I didn't want to say anything to worry you. I know it's hard for you to see because you're so close to him. But now... it just all makes sense. Don't worry he'll be ok. But right now he needs our help."

Sienna's eyes renewed with fresh tears. How could she betray her brother this way? Had she been ignorant to what was really going on? Sean's story had been so unbelievable. But it was Sean, so without a doubt she believed him. Everything he said was like something out of a movie. 

Just then a faint memory came to her. She closed her eyes to concentrate. Before when she fell asleep in Sean's room... that movie that was playing. The injured man in the snow... the story Sean told her about the coldest town in Siberia... the injury he said he sustained while finding his friend... the fact he made her swear to only trust Mikhail and no one else. The fact that said his Merle disguise came from a movie prop manufacturer. Sienna didn't want to admit it even though she knew it was too good to be true. 

It was all so clear to her now. Sean had made the whole thing up. In Sean's mind he felt as if he was being chased. And in Merle's disguise he would be safe. Her strong, sweet, courageous brother had a mental illness. How could she be so blind and not see it? She was hit with a pang of guilt. But she would not let him down. She would get him the help he needs. 

After a long stretch of silence.

Sienna spoke up. "Ok. What do we need to do?"

Mikhail exhaled in relief. "Right after your wedding we'll have our people on site to bring him in. It will be an easy extraction. Don't worry I'll make sure he's not harmed. I truly believe... that if Sean cooperates; he can still have a full productive normal life."



Duplicity Ch. 08



Hey guys! 

So here is chapter 8... I gotta say I got sucked into this one. I was researching away and found the most moving images and it kinda just moved me to write. If you're interested in seeing those images, let me know and I'll post a link in a comment. And chapter 8 got to be so long that I decided to break it up into 2 chapters. So I'm finishing up chapter 9 and will post as soon as that's sorted out.

Thank you SOOO much for the continued support. Please leave a comment, good or bad I wanna hear from you. And without further ado... here's chapter 8.

****

Sean stood in front of the bathroom mirror quietly assessing his freshly showered reflection. His piercing green eyes seemed dull this morning.

The gentle hum of the air conditioner cooled his still glistening skin. It was morning. And the new day inevitably brought on new thoughts. And yet he wore a blank expression as he started his ritual. The foamy lather coated his scalp like a sudsy cloud. With a flick of the wrist, the black straight razor opened. With long precise strokes he slowly and carefully shaved from front to back.

It seemed like a lifetime ago when he started shaving his head. The ritual would be forever engrained in his mind.

When he was done, he eyed the small pill bottle on the counter. He quickly gulped down a couple of pills without any water. He inwardly sighed, he felt better already. And yet his thoughts inevitably went to that time in his life when this all started.

April 2007, Wiesbaden Army Airfield; Wiesbaden, Germany

"Atten-tion!"

The captain stood in the hangar entrance while the armed soldiers quickly lined up in perfect formation on the airfield tarmac. All except one, that is.

"Something wrong with you Johnson?"

Silence.

"Johnson! Front and center... Now!"

Silence.

From the line, Dominic threw a small rock at his friend; knowing full well why he didn't respond. In turn Sean let out a snort followed by a "Fuck!!" He rubbed his temples, groaning from the pain.

"Oh shit." He huffed. Suddenly he was aware of the pairs of eyes on him. But it was all too late. He knew he got caught.

"Sir yes, sir!" Sean scrambled to join his unit in the front of the formation.

He had perfected the art of sleeping with his eyes open while standing. They were set to fly out to their new assignment in Kandahar that morning. But to Sean, 0500 hours meant he'd only slept 30 minutes. While the others in his platoon opted to get a good night's sleep; Sean decided to sneak out of the barracks to party all night long. They were currently stationed in Germany. And the local German women couldn't get enough of him. The corners of his mouth twitched a smile as he relished those wicked memories.... very naughty women indeed.

"Wipe that smile off your face! The time for-"

The man had moved closer to Sean and stopped talking. He leaned over and sniffed Sean's shirt. The strong stench of alcohol burned his nostrils. He wondered how the boy was even standing. It smelled like he swam in the stuff.

"What is that smell soldier??!!" He roared; making sure to get right in Sean's face.

"Don't know sir."

"You don't know? So you haven't been drinking until early this morning?!" Captain Brown's nostrils flared in anger.

"Drinking what sir?" Sean let out a cheeky grin.

"I honest-to-God-do-not-know-how-the-hell... you've lasted this long Johnson. Can you explain it?" The captain's voice boomed.

"I'm a lucky son a bitch, sir!"

The men in his unit although holding their perfect posture, couldn't help but suppress a chuckle. From the back of the line, Dominic pursed his lips and shook his head. He had to give it to his friend Sean... he had some balls on him.

"Lucky-son-of-a-bitch, indeed." The brown skinned man cynically chuckled.

The tall man towered over Sean's 6' 3" frame. And although Capt. Damion Brown was in his fifties; his muscled arms and cunning eyes brokered no argument. He wore his fatigues as if he'd been wearing them his whole life. He was a patriot that bled red, white and blue. A true leader. He could've retired but continued his service for the love of his country.

Capt. Brown stepped closer to Sean. Invading his space, he tested him out to see if he would dare to say something else. He was so close their noses were almost touching. It was as if he was searching his very soul... figuring him out. The captain was always in control. Commanding such strong willed men forced him to be. He could react and lay into him but in this case that wouldn't solve the problem.

"Now... what to do with you?" He said, contemplating his own question. Capt. Brown's intense glare bore into the young private. But Sean vacantly looked ahead not meeting his eyes. Even Sean knew when to pull back.

"Permission to speak freely sir." Sean respectfully asked.

"Permission granted."

"My behavior is inexcusable. I would completely understand if I were to be reprimanded and made to serve out my punishment here."

"Really now?" Captain Brown let out a crooked grin as if he anticipated those very words.

"Well that's a very helpful suggestion. But you wouldn't be telling me how to do my job, would you soldier?" He dangerously whispered.

"No sir!"

"Request denied."

Sean's expression didn't hide his disappointment.

Captain Brown let out a sarcastic chuckle. "You really didn't think this little charade you have going on would work, did you? Do you think I can't tell the difference between someone with a real hangover and someone who just sprayed themselves with the stuff?"

Busted.

Sean furrowed his eyebrows. Apparently he'd underestimated the captain. Last night Sean drank like a fish, but it wore off with the... physical exertion he laid on the German women. So this morning, he dabbed some whisky around his neck and shoulders as if it were cologne.

He could hear Dominic snicker from the back of the formation. Asshole. Instead of helping him this morning, Dominic told him he was crazy and it would never work. Some friend he was.

Fuck. He did not want to go to no godforsaken Afghanistan. Iraq was one thing but Afghanistan... that was a whole other story. Contrary to popular belief, he was not built to be a soldier.

"Now, I don't know what the hell is wrong with you but you will learn. You WILL deploy with your unit and you WILL complete your duties without any interruptions. Do I make myself clear??!!" The captain's deep voice echoed throughout the hangar.

Silence.

"Sir yes sir!"

Finally the captain sighed. He knew all about Johnson and his antics. This young man would never learn. Johnson continually defied every superior he could. Just for fun. He was as hard-headed as a mule and had been reprimanded on numerous occasions. But each time, he took his punishment in stride and went on doing what he did perfectly.

Being the best pain in the ass he could be.

He was an excellent soldier. An excellent soldier with a bad attitude that is. He barely scrapped by to earn his promotion to private first class because his superiors hated his guts. In the end, they couldn't even try to deny him his promotion. That was the least they could do.

On his last assignment, Sean single-handedly engaged 300 enemies, led the troops to a safe haven and rescued 8 fellow soldiers from a burning Bradley. The tank had been unexpectedly ambushed by an IED. In the captain's opinion, he should have been nominated for the Distinguished Service Cross medal.

For fuck's sake, 8 of his men owed Sean their lives. One by one, Sean carried the wounded to safety. Ignoring his own flesh wound, he sheltered them in the midst of a firefight. And he didn't stop until the last one was safe and sound.

But both the major general and the colonel blew the whole thing off; downplaying his actions. Blinded by the fact Sean didn't fall over himself and drool over the major general when he'd visit them on base. There was so much bureaucracy; the captain understood Sean's frustration.

Some people in positions of power let it go to their heads. They expected their asses thoroughly kissed for a soldier to be successful. But the captain didn't give a damn about their opinions and all the fucking bureaucracy. As soon as they returned from this assignment, he would write Sean's recommendation. Bravery is bravery... even if it's wrapped in a stubborn insubordinate. Even assholes can make their country proud.

It would help if Sean at least acted as if he gave a shit. But it was like he didn't care about anything. It was like he accidently stumbled into boot camp and ended up here.

But through it all, Capt. Brown actually liked him. He reminded him of himself 30 years earlier; young, angry and wild. Couple that with a severe problem with authority and you got yourself someone that none of the commanders wanted. But he did.

The captain saw Sean's potential and knew that his problem with male authority probably stemmed from his life at home. It might be something like an absentee father or maybe being the only male child. One thing was for sure... he was angry about something. But he had to learn to put all that shit in its proper place. With his help, the 19 year-old would straighten out in no time.

"Well private first class Johnson, since it's such a beautiful day... and you seem so up for the task. Drop down and give me 100." Capt. Brown started off at an easy number, knowing Sean's cocky attitude would lead him to much worse.

Sean defiantly met his gaze.

"With pleasure, sir." Although his head pounded from the lack of sleep; he confidently dropped to the floor. He smiled as he used his right arm while the other was tucked behind his back. He mentally started his count. The Captain pissed him off so he thought he'd give him a little more of a show. He could do 100 one-armed pushups in his sleep.

"Fucker." Sean silently muttered.

"Did you say something soldier?!"

"No sir!"

"That's what I thought. " The commander barked.

Sean easily pumped himself up and down on his right hand. Straight back and legs... he could do this shit all day. He'd be done in a couple of minutes.

"Oh that's nice. Real nice." The captain touted.

Sean didn't say anything but arrogantly continued his count.

"Let's see how you do with a little extra weight. Ramirez! Get over here and sit on private first class Johnson's back."

Ramirez looked uncertain at first but silently came over, disengaged his weapon and tentatively sat on Sean's back while he continued his pushups. Sean now grunted and clenched his teeth from the added weight. His body softly vibrated but his strong muscled arms endured. The veins in his neck bulged in the most distracting way. But he stubbornly continued.

"And since you're doing such a damn good job... how about 100 more? Also you will carry Ramirez on your back and do 200 squats. That's right... you're going to do "fireman's carry" squats. By then maybe you've sweated the shit you wanted to convince me you drank last night." Capt. Brown let out a sparkling smile. "Staff Sergeant Roman, make sure he finishes his sets. The rest of you company, at ease. Follow me."

As soon as the Captain was out of hearing distance, Sean cursed and let out a muffled groan. This would be an impossible task. But SSgt. Roman was keeping count and would definitely not let him off the hook.

After a long stretch of strained silence, "Why do you insist on getting on every superior's bad side?" Ramirez quietly asked Sean. His coffee colored eyes looked down toward Sean with compassion. The brown haired Puerto Rican was shy and mild mannered. He was the same age as Sean and although they were total opposites; they became instant friends. He was sitting on Sean very still and holding his weight on his legs as to not add too much extra on him.

"Because he's a fuckin' asshole." Sean groaned as he pushed himself up.

"He's not that bad."

"You would say that, wouldn't you? Kiss ass."

Ramirez let his weight drop a little making Sean groan. Ramirez chuckled. "You can call me kiss ass all you want but I'm not the one that has... 162 pushups and 200 squats to go."

Sean groaned at the number but continued without complaints. Fuck his life.

____

Southern province; Kandahar, Afghanistan

"Pay attention and stay sharp! That goes for all of you. Remember the drills. Always alert, always engaged!" The Captain loudly screamed above the sound of the roaring Humvee.

Sean stirred with the Captain's voice. Fuck, he'd fallen asleep again. Somehow he'd gotten stuck in the same Humvee as the captain. It seemed he was going out of his way to have him by his side. Sean rolled his eyes. He hated this shit. He'd been able to clock in 3 hours of sleep on the plane. His body ached in all sorts of places from those fucking "Ramirez pushups and squats". Fucking captain.

He looked out of the window and took in his surroundings. They drove through the mountains. They were driving fast, plowing over the dirt roads. The soft sand whipped around the row of Humvees as if they were creating their own sand storm. Sean caught his reflection in the mirror, his desert camouflage uniform meshed right into the landscape.

Finally after driving for a couple hours, the scenery started to change. Although far apart there were glimpses of residences. It was midday when they arrived. The Humvees were strategically parked to ensure maximum security. They were told they would spend 2 hours setting up camp and then be shown their posts.

When they unloaded their gear at the bottom of a small hill they could already tell this place was different. Sean didn't know what to expect when they arrived. But it sure as hell wasn't this.

The cloudless sky was so clear; it was the bluest he'd ever seen it. They were in a valley with large white capped mountains surrounding them. Impossibly high concrete walls protected the farm from outsiders. The well-groomed green shrubs lined the dirt road perfectly. It was like an oasis in the middle of desert.

It was dry and hot. The gentle breeze felt like God's hot breath upon their skin. Sean just stood for a minute and inhaled the pure air. It was so peaceful... so quiet.

For a moment he thought maybe they'd gotten the destination wrong. This was war-ravaged Afghanistan, wasn't it? A blind man couldn't deny its natural beauty.

Sean remembered reading somewhere that it took Alexander the Great almost three years to conquer this land; unable to fight its allure. He'd been so obsessed... he insisted it be named after him as Alexandria in Arachosia.

It seemed that many of the men in his company wore the same awestruck expression. Some of them had served their tours out in a very different part of this mysterious country. The burnt sienna soil looked surprisingly untouched and fertile there.

Happy little goats trotted towards them in greeting; as if welcoming them to their homeland.

They filed out and made their way towards their campsite. They would need to guard the post around the clock.

They walked about a mile down; their gear rumbling on their backs as they walked in unison. Their heavy boots crunched the dirt road.

They passed a large clay building on their left. The stubborn ruins stood the test of time. As if it refused to be destroyed. But someone lived there. A random plastic water jug hung on the side of the wall; as if to remind you it is possible to live among the ruins.

After they unpacked and set up camp; they were given their orders. They would be shown the main house and the fields. It was April and the poppies were in full bloom. Their first assignment was to destroy the existing crop. The owners had already started on a couple of acres but the field covered at least 500 acres. They needed all the help they could get. A team would help eliminate the poppy while the other teams would secure the perimeter.

As they approached the main house, Sean wondered what kind of people lived there. The huge brick house seemed out of place as it was styled in the Victorian era with intricate designs. It was tall; it looked to be several stories high with a large porch that wrapped around the front. There were bay windows and balconies that seemed to curve with the house.

The house was bustling with activity. An older woman ran around back; she carried a large plastic basin full of water and a towel flung over her shoulders. Small half naked children ran around her laughing. The kids seemed to enjoy terrorizing her as the frustrated woman fussed at them. But when the kids caught sight of the approaching soldiers; they immediately stopped. Their large brown eyes widened and cried out in joy. They ran toward the approaching men as fast as their sandal covered feet could carry them.

Sean and the men smiled at the excited chatter of the 3 boys. They were so enthralled with them and full of curiosity. They kept touching their uniforms and asking them a million questions.

Sean looked back at the house and noticed a girl with her head covered tending to house chores. She seemed to be around his age. Interesting. Maybe his time here wouldn't be so bad after all. His view was interrupted with what must have been the man of house; he came out and greeted the captain. After the man shot the children a quick stern glance, they scattered back to their caretakers.

"Please excuse my children; they have never seen American soldiers other than on TV."

His voice was deep and smooth with a British accent. The man was tall and handsome. His inky black hair sprinkled with grays sat in waves on his head. His kind eyes were covered by modern black-framed glasses. He smiled and his pearly white straight teeth sparkled. Without a doubt he was a wealthy educated man. He wore a fine white cotton Kurta pajama with a geometric design along the collar and sleeves. He didn't look like a farmer. His nails were perfectly groomed and his hands wore no calluses. He seemed relieved to see them.

"Captain, it's nice to finally meet you. My family and I have been anticipating your arrival. My name is Farzin Khan and all of you are welcome to the Insha'Allah farm. My father has recently passed so my family and I decided to move back home and make sure we settled things here before returning to London. But I should hope that although your time here will be short; you will all feel at home. Please come, I will show you the fields and then we will enjoy refreshments and afternoon tea."

Afternoon tea, what the fuck? Sean's eyebrows furrowed at his words. He sounded as if the troops had just arrived for summer camp; ready for marshmallows over a camp fire and to sing Kumbaya. Didn't this guy know they were at war? Fucking idiot. But then, Sean caught sight of it. It was hard to tell but under Farzin's perfectly pressed shirt; he had a 9mm safely tucked away. Maybe there was more to this fruit loop than he thought.

Farzin Khan caught the snickering from the young soldier but he didn't care. He would try to make his time here as normal as possible, even if it was bullshit.

Now that the soldiers had arrived, he would immediately send his children and wife away just in case something happened. He didn't want them caught in the crossfire. They were ok now, but as soon as they would destroy the crop, they would be under threat. This would be the most dangerous thing he's ever done.

He had settled back in his native Afghanistan for a couple of months now. For years he had tried to convince his father to get out of the poppy business. But he was so stubborn. That had been the catalyst of him permanently staying in London to pursue his career. He was a history professor at Oxford and was proud of his hard earned tenure. There wasn't much he could do from London.

Farzin vowed never to come back until things changed. Years passed and things remained the same. Looking back, he guessed both father and son shared the stubborn gene.




Duplicity Ch. 08



The elder Khan always had a pension for the finer things in life. And growing poppy was far more lucrative than anything else he could ever grow. The old man just turned a blind eye to the fact that his crop directly contributed to ruining people's lives. He had regular dealings with the Taliban. He felt that the Taliban just wanted to protect and provide for their families. And although he didn't agree with their laws or share their views; he didn't see anything wrong with doing business with them. Business was business. Their ancestors had been growing opium for generations. The elder Khan held the Taliban's respect and he held theirs.

What the elder Khan did have a problem with were foreigners. He didn't trust them. Sure you can go abroad and receive an education but he didn't trust foreign powerful governments in his homeland. Fucking Russians, fucking English, fucking Americans... they all want the same thing, he would say. He might have been a bit xenophobic... or maybe he was just a realist.

But al-Qaeda was a whole different story. They were mere ants who thought they could overthrow an elephant. And in the end, all they did was piss the elephant off... and bring the monstrous creature stomping back to their homeland.

Farzin remembered his father saying al-Qaeda were crazy cowards and fools who hid behind their guns, their bombs and their God. Because although they were all called Muslims; the elder Khan's God was surely different from al-Qaeda's. The Allah he prayed to five times a day, hated violence... and theirs seemed to love it.

One summer when Farzin was 21 and back home on holiday, he witnessed the exchange between his father and a well-known Taliban leader. There was talk that al-Qaeda were getting more possessive and extreme and were creeping into the Taliban's rule.  

Being young and somewhat of an activist; Farzin was outraged. He was naive to think that their poppy crop was one of the few that were converted into medicine that actually helped people like codeine, hydrocodone and morphine. That was what his father had always told him; that the poppy was sold to a large European pharmaceutical company. Until then, he'd always had so much respect for his father.

But his world shattered when he found out his father owned one of the largest Afghan opium farms used solely for heroin conversion. Words were exchanged. And Farzin regretted that his last words to his father were that he was ashamed to carry his name.

Undoubtedly, the family stress was what caused his mother's sudden heart attack 2 years ago... his sweet submissive mother. She died thinking her husband and son hated each other. And he knew that was on him. And now his father was dead and he had never made peace with him either.

But on his life, he vowed to make this right. So he arranged everything with the UNSC, NATO and the U.S. government. They would provide support in the farm's crop transition. He would successfully convert his father's farm and lift the blemish that was forever associated with their name. Farzin smiled. Now that the soldiers have arrived everything would go according to plan.

He ushered the soldiers around the backside of the house. Walking alongside Farzin's left was a young man strapped with a M16; the captain walked to his right. Farzin and the captain continued their conversations in hushed tones.

As they walked, the men observed an enormous emerging white tent. Yards of fabric draped the inside. Rows of tables and chairs were set up on a large lush carpet with intricate designs. It seemed more like a high society brunch than a place for soldiers to eat.

Under the tent, there were men dressed in servant's uniform setting up stations with silver covered platters and chaffing dishes. The exotic aroma lingered around them as they walked. Sean's stomach growled. He hoped the Captain cleared the food to eat because he was starving. Dominic came by Sean and lightly shoved his shoulder.

"You awake now bro?"

Sean chuckled. "Fuck you man." He silently continued to look around in wonder.

"Just wait till you see the fields." Sean nodded. He knew Dominic had been assigned to another farm sometime back.

They turned the corner and trekked up the steep hill. Farzin and the captain led the group up front. The other soldiers had stopped when they reached the top; just staring into the open space. When Sean reached the edge and gazed over... he understood what all the fuss was about.

As far as the eye could see... was poppy.

Vibrant green leaves littered the landscape. The sun was setting, giving off a yellowish orange haze over the valley.

Red and white flowers scattered throughout creating a sea of white, pink and green dots. It reminded Sean of his third grade art class when he'd learned about pointillism. He remembered how much fun he had stabbing the paper with different colored markers. That's what the poppy fields looked like; waves upon waves of perfect tiny dots.

They descended in the valley and got closer to the crop. Sean was surprised to see how tall they were. The stalks of poppy came up to his chest. The soldiers maneuvered themselves around the flowers; analyzing them in interest.

The flowers were actually pretty. Like something you would buy your girlfriend or plant in your garden. The smell was overwhelmingly sweet. How ironic. How could something that caused so much death and destruction be so beautiful?

The flower petals were a bright angelic white color with deep magenta stripes on the sides. Although the flower was white, the blood red color was so intense; it made the whole flower look pink. It was as if the flower's guilty conscience spilled over and overwhelmed its true color.

The stalks that had no petals just stood in a round pod. Raw opium was encased in it. The capsules looked innocent enough; green and round like a golf ball with a little flat crown top.

It was an odd scene as his unit cautiously walked through the delicate poppy fields. The trained soldiers treaded softly... ready to engage at any moment. Securely strapped to their shoulders were their loaded M16's. Their strong hands wrapped around their familiar loaded weapons as the flowers softly brushed their fatigues.

The stick figure poppy stalks all stood high as if lifting their heads in prayer; humming a somber hymn. It was as if they recognized their day of destruction had finally arrived.

___________

With great effort, they promptly cut and bulldozed the crop. The machetes sliced through the poppy stalks as if they were t-ball batting. Every poppy stalk was destroyed. And then it was over.

Time passed.

Slowly.

Too slowly.

It had been 2 months since the crop's complete destruction. And the Insha'Allah farm was still as peaceful as it had been when Sean first arrived. Strange but true. Farzin and the captain couldn't have been happier.

But Sean was slowly going crazy... with boredom. There was only so much he could write his sister Sienna and his family.

That's one thing you don't count on when you first enlist in the army. You expect action... a non-stop adrenaline high. But the reality is that there are long stretches of nothing. Silence. Just echoes of your beating heart and memories of regrets that cloud your thinking.

Too much time.

Sean's thoughts were interrupted every morning between the very beginning of dawn and sunrise. Without delay the first call for prayer could be heard throughout the region. The morning dew and fog was still thick over the fields but you could still hear the chant that made believers stop and remember their daily solemn duty. The masculine voice on the loud speaker was hauntingly beautiful and echoed throughout the land.

Sean was posted on an overbank by the perimeter that overlooked the fields to the east. And every day he would watch an Afghan National Army soldier stationed below him; take his RPG-7 off his shoulder and rest it on the wall. On his knees, the man would bend at the waist until his forehead touched the floor; and he would recite those words from memory. Sean wondered what he was saying. With scrunched eyebrows he would observe the man finish his prayer, strap his rocket launcher on once again and continue his surveillance.

This was one fucked up place; where the most pious of men were ready to praise their god one minute and kill their enemy in the next.

Sean had to get out of there. He was going stir crazy.

Ajmal, the language specialist, had taken to teaching him some Pashto and Arabic. And Sean was getting pretty good at it. In the couple of months he'd been there, he could almost be considered fluent. Because of this he'd become acquainted with some people that worked in the house.

One the first things Ajmal taught him was how to talk to the local women. A necessary skill. Ajmal was a natural flirt and was known for recounting some wild stories. Patience was key, he said. And it was about time that Sean tested it out.

He had befriended the girl who worked in the house. The one he saw his first day there. And he may or may not have developed a little crush on her. With girls back home; he would have had them screaming his name by now. But he had to be smart about approaching this girl; he didn't want to spook her. But in time she would be his.

And just like that he stumbled onto the perfect distraction.

©partial2passion

________

Chapter 9 is coming up soon. Let me know what you think!

Also here are some meanings of names:

Farzin- "learned"

Insha'Allah- "God willing"

Ajmal- "handsome" 



Duplicity Ch. 09



Hey guys- So this is the continuation of chapter 8. Here you find out some more of the heavy past Sean carries. 

________

Her name was Khatira. 

She was about 18 years old and had the prettiest wide smile adorned with thick lips. Large sparkling brown eyes rimmed with kohl and she had the longest eyelashes he'd ever seen. Her skin was the color of the chai with milk he'd grown so fond of drinking. Although it was always covered, her long wavy black hair reached her waist. And that tiny gold stud nose ring was the perfect complement to her already gorgeous face. 

Although she was thin, Sean imagined she had a sweet womanly curve to her hips; and it deliciously swayed under the folds of her full skirt. Sean swore he heard a drumbeat with her every step. She didn't even know she was a pro in this seduction dance. The melody of the bangles on her wrists echoed... as if accompanying her body's musical ensemble.

She was shy and timid but her eyes were mischievous. 

Sean schooled his features when he was around her. He played the role well. Always the gentleman, while never letting his true intentions be known. But every chance he'd get, his eyes would rake over her inch by inch. Since she was always completely covered up, she only let her face, hands and feet show. It was a tantalizing mystery to see more of her. She must have been hot in all those layers of clothing. Sean was really doing her a favor.

Sean somehow convinced her he would teach her English and she could help him with his Pashto. That seemed to excite her. She was eager to learn and was a really good student. They were speaking in full sentences in no time. He called her Kat for short. When she asked him why he told her it was because she was as sneaky as a cat. But the real reason was because he couldn't wait to hear her purr like one. 

Sean found out she lived and worked on the farm ever since she was 10 years old. She used to work in the fields but now she was mainly a housekeeper. Her family lived an hour away and was very poor. You could hear the pride in her voice as she spoke about taking care of them financially. She had a little brother and sister and her parents were sickly. She said she liked working there now that master Farzin Khan was in charge. When Sean asked her what the older Khan was like; she grimaced and shook her head. 

"Eh... how do you say?" She scrunched her nose and mouth and let out a snort. 

Sean chuckled. "A pig?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yes, a pig." Sean didn't know what to say about that. 

They talked about their mission and the Taliban. She believed in what the soldiers were doing, but she said they had to be careful because it was unsafe. Since not everyone on the farm was their friend she warned.

_______

"Hey man, you gotta minute?" Ramirez quietly asked Sean when he was out on patrol. 

"What's up?"

"I uh..." He hesitated and looked around.

Sean stood patiently and waited for him to speak. "Spit it out."

Just then Sgt. Thomas came up to them. He needed to get some specs from Sean but he would have to walk back to his post to give it to him. Sean glanced at Ramirez but he shrugged Sean off and said he would catch up with him later. Sean nodded but his eyebrows gathered in curiosity as he watched Ramirez walk away.

A couple weeks passed and Sean was so busy with Kat he forgot all about Ramirez wanting to talk to him that day. Things with her were going great. Sean felt she was loosening up with him.

Khatira knew to come to Sean when he was alone. Although the master of the house was a modern man and didn't care about religious protocols; it would be dangerous for her to be seen with a foreign man. It was strictly forbidden to speak to any male outside of her immediate family or employers. But with Sean... it seemed she just couldn't resist.

Every afternoon, she would slip out of the house and meet Sean at a little isolated hillside alcove. She would wait for him there, patiently sitting Indian style on a pretty rug she brought with her. 

Sean noticed little by little, she'd let her head covering slide off her head until eventually she removed it all together. Those were his favorite times. He would approach their secret spot and her long black hair looked like flames cascading over her. She looked so wild and innocent there waiting for him. And she would just smile sweetly while tending to him. She'd remove his helmet and boots before he stepped onto the rug. And then serve him sizzling hot chai in a glass cup and sweet pastries. 

Khatira would ask him questions about America and his home. Sometimes she'd struggle with the words and bite her bottom lip as she thought of how to ask the question. 

Sean's bright green eyes silently stared at her while he sipped his tea. The hot sweet and spicy liquid scorched his throat but did nothing to tamper his desires. He was a predator... unapologetically so. His goal was to seduce her. She was intoxicating and exotic. He had to have her. 

But he could be patient... that was part of the thrill of it.

They were playing with fire. 

Sean was not a good man. He was selfish and arrogant; and his dick always won any rational arguments. He realized this was true the first time he kissed her. 

They were sitting close, one earbud in each ear; listening to some of Sean's music. She laughed about something he'd said. And he snapped. He grabbed her and roughly kissed her causing her to gasp. She pulled away in surprise. Her eyes widened as her trembling hand touched her lips in shock.

He slowly took her shaky hand and guided it towards his face... letting her know it was ok. Her fingers lingered on his strong jaw and he kissed her open palm before she pulled away. He recognized her scared and confused eyes but he ignored it. 

Her small body silently shook in either fear or arousal. But Sean only had one thought in mind. He slowly leaned in but this time she met his lips willingly. He murmured words of encouragement and wrapped his arms around her. His hands ran through her lush midnight hair as he deepened the kiss. Their tongues danced for the first time and she let out a soft moan. He kissed and nibbled the column of her neck while she quietly panted.

He was so consumed in her; he didn't notice her eyes had turned vacant, empty. 

_____

"Johnson! Report."

"Yes sir!"

"At ease, soldier."

Sean relaxed his posture as he waited to see what the captain wanted. It was almost time to meet up with Khatira and he needed to slip away soon. 

"Walk with me."

Sean nodded and followed the man. What did he want now?

"I need you to watch Ramirez for me."

"Ramirez? Sir?" Sean was confused. What the hell did the captain want with his friend?

"Just observe him. Follow him and report back to me."

Sean thought that was very cryptic. What was happening? Sean hesitated for a moment but then nodded. "Yes sir." 

"Good. Now you be careful now. There are eyes and ears everywhere." Capt. Brown pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at him. 

Oh shit. Did he know about Kat? 

"That will be all."

"Yes sir."

He saluted his captain as he stood there thinking what an odd conversation he just had. 

He hadn't talked to Ramirez in a long time. Without realizing it, his little Kit-Kat had kept him out of trouble for the time he'd been there. He hadn't snuck out of the camp not once. But now he was curious to what his buddy was up to.

He finally met up with Khatira an hour after he was supposed to. But there she was, sitting patiently on the little rug. Just beautiful. Her hair was down in long waves like a blanket comforting her. She didn't look at him when he sat in front of her. When he started to speak and apologize; her gaze stopped him in his tracks. She had been crying. Her eyes were bloodshot red.

"What's wrong?"

Silence.

"Listen I'm sorry I was late; the captain needed to talk to me."

She looked at him still not saying what was wrong.

Silence.

"Kat?"

"Make love to me." She said.

Sean looked at her surprised. He must have heard her wrong.

"Make love to me." She repeated.

"What?"

"I spoke in English." She said with a sigh. As if that was an explanation. 

Sean's mouth hung open. He never thought he would hear her say that.

"But..."

"No buts." She said firmly.

Sean chuckled. Who the hell was this and where did they hide his shy little Kat?

"Listen sweetheart, believe me; I have no problem with that. But I need to know why."

"I want to have a piece of you with me always." Her English had gotten really good.

"Are you going somewhere?"

"I'm leaving this place."

Sean looked at her in shock. What the fuck? 

"Where are you going? When do you leave?"

"I don't know where or when... but it will be soon."

Sean didn't know what to say to that. He didn't know how things worked here. Could they just transfer someone out without notice? He had heard some of the workers had been sent to another farm but he didn't think that would happen to Kat. He had grown accustomed to spending time with her every day. He more than liked her. She was becoming something very real to him.

While Sean thought about her words, she took advantage and started removing her clothes. He looked up at her, stilled her arms and brought her closer to him. He fingered his collar and pulled out his dog tags. He slipped it around her neck. She examined the shiny oval rectangles in curiosity. After a couple of minutes she seemingly understood its significance. She let out a bright smile but it eventually dimmed and turned into a solemn expression. 

"To remember me by." 

When a couple of tears ran down her cheeks, he kissed them away. 

"Thank you." She whispered. 

"We don't have to do anything baby."

Khatira nodded and genuinely smiled. 

Sean thought that might be the end of that. But she wiggled out of his grasp and stood up. Apparently that wasn't enough to stop her from her mission. Her eyes never left his as she slowly took off layer after layer of clothing. She slid down her pants and undergarments. 

And there she stood... naked as the day she was born. 

And she was more beautiful than he'd ever imagined. 

Sean's eyes darkened as he examined her inch by inch. Her light brown skin was smooth and even. Her long hair brushed the delicate dip in her waist. Her breasts were perky handfuls with small brown nipples. Between the valley of her breasts and down her stomach, his chiming dog tags hung. Her pussy had a tuft of trimmed dark hair. Sean licked his lips. 

She bravely stood there although her body quivered... waiting for his reaction. 

"You're beautiful." He said in awe.

In that moment, he didn't think. And as always his dick overpowered any nagging doubt he had. A dark looming feeling crept over him but his desire pushed it away. 

He pulled her close and sat her on his lap. He kissed her thoroughly and swallowed her moans. She was so vulnerable. She was completely naked and he was still in his uniform. She wrapped her hands around him and his hands traveled down her neck to her breasts. He caressed them and played with the hardened peaks. He broke the kiss and gazed into her half lidded eyes. They had lost their glimmer.

"You ok?"

She nodded and resumed kissing him with vigor. She made the sexiest sounds as he continued to caress her. He laid her down on the rug and took his clothes off. 

She stared at his tanned muscular chest and arms in appreciation. When her gaze landed on his cock her mouth hung open in surprise. Her eyes widened and she muttered some words Sean didn't recognize. Sean expertly rolled on the condom he always carried with him. She looked at him in curiosity but didn't question it. He kissed her again and moved toward the column of her neck. It seemed that was his favorite spot on her. He moved down her body slowly as he sucked and nibbled at her breasts; taking his time on each one. 

Her breath was shallow and came out in short pants. He kissed down her stomach and navel and continued down to her pussy. He spread her legs ignoring her shy protests. He delved into her sweet folds and moaned. 

She squirmed and started to scream some Pashto words Sean had never learned. She quickly covered her mouth in embarrassment. He smiled while he swirled his tongue around her clit and sucked it gently. She let out a sound that sounded like something between a purr and a moan. There was his kitty kat, he thought with pride. He slipped his meaty finger in her, preparing her for what was to come. The squishy sounds of her wet folds echoed in the cavern around them. She was close. He could tell.

He continued his assault and right when she was about to go over the edge, he stopped. She cried out in protest and he smiled at her. He crawled up and kissed her. He distracted her while he slowly eased himself inside of her. Her eyebrows beaded in concentration as willing the pain away. 

When he met her barrier, he kissed her passionately. In one full swoop he tore into her and she let out a tortured scream. He held himself perfectly still while kissing her pain away. When he finally bottomed out, he slowly moved in and out of her... with short shallow strokes. 

In and out he moved.

After a while, she moved with him; meeting him thrust for thrust. He witnessed her unleash herself to him. She was so damn beautiful and untamed. She gave him every piece of her. She gave him everything.

He picked up speed, plunging into her sporadically. He willed himself to wait for her but she was so damn tight and felt so damn good. His dog tags jingled between them with every thrust. She mumbled something incoherent and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. She scratched his back and froze as if paralyzed. Sean watched her as she screamed her release. Her pussy contracted around him and that was his undoing. He groaned and pumped himself inside of her until he was sated. He had never been so satisfied in his life.

_____

It was a couple nights later when Sean realized Ramirez was sneaking out. Naturally he followed him. Sean was dressed as a local so he wouldn't attract too much attention. He blended in perfectly, slipping in and out of the shadows unseen. He walked a mile to a nondescript small house. Through a dark dirty window, Sean tried to make something out. He moved from glass to glass trying to see clearly but he couldn't really see anything. 

Inside Ramirez sat on the floor in a circle surrounded by others. He silently rolled his sleeves up. He took a silver spoon and put it over a fire. Then he drew the poison into the syringe he brought with him. As he shot up, he scrunched his face in either pain or relief. His eyes rolled up, he bit his lip and let out a small grin. Then he fell back onto pillows behind him... passed out.

Just then, Sean caught sight of Ramirez on the floor. He wasn't moving.

Sean stormed into the house with his gun locked and ready. He pointed it at the surprised patrons in warning. The lucid men put their hands up and shook their heads in fear. There were others though that didn't move at all. There was a trained killer in their midst and they were so high; they didn't realize it or didn't care. Or maybe they were dead.

He slowly moved around the contraband room with his gun engaged. It looked to be a mix between a crack, whore house and a bar... all things illegal. There were people huddled in the corners holding scoops of pure black opium he recognized from the poppy. They lit up and smoked directly into the gooey mixture.

After assessing that the room was clear, he dropped down to the floor where Ramirez lay deep in his hit and carried him out of there.

As he walked, he wondered how his friend had come to this. Then he remembered a while back how he'd confessed that he had a past with drugs and alcohol. He came from an abusive household. His father had been extremely physically abusive to him and his mother. His father was currently serving out his sentence for finally murdering her. 

At a young age, Ramirez had taken to drugs and alcohol as a refuge. Drugs were something he could control, he'd said. It'd taken him years to recover but he got himself clean and enlisted in the army. And he had done well there. The discipline he'd receive had been invaluable. 

Sean never even remembered that part of Ramirez's life. He just seemed like a good soldier, no one could ever tell he came from a dysfunctional household.

But why the hell had he been assigned to a fucking opium farm?! This would mean all kinds of temptations for him. Sean was sure that the captain didn't know of his past because there was no way Ramirez would be here if he did.

Back at camp, when Ramirez came to; he was surprised to see an angry Sean hovering over him. He apologized and promised it was never going to happen again. He made a mistake he said. 

Apparently he had received a letter from his father in prison and that completely fucked him up. Even behind bars and years later; his old man was still able to fuck with his head. He said he was so stressed out and had lost his way.

Ramirez didn't tell him that there were several other soldiers from their unit that'd frequent that place for the same reason. He just made Sean promise not to tell the captain. 

"Dammit Ramirez... why didn't you talk to someone? Why the fuck didn't you come to me?!"

"I tried."

Sean exhaled. Fuck. He remembered Ramirez coming to him a couple weeks back. He hadn't thought about it since that day. His friend needed help and he wasn't there for him. He felt like an ass.

Ramirez had nothing to go back home to, he said. He was nothing without the Army. He begged him. He looked so scared and helpless... 

Sean knew all about fucking up and needing a second chance. This was one of his best friends; he couldn't take all this away from him. Sean sighed. He told him he wouldn't say anything but he would keep tabs on him. Sean swore if he caught him even drinking a beer he would go straight to the captain. Ramirez thanked him and told him he wouldn't regret it. 

Little did Sean know... that would be one of the biggest mistakes he'd ever make.

___________

Since the farm's transition had gone so smoothly; the major general ordered the captain to reassign most of his men back to base. 

The captain advised against it. He argued that although it was relatively peaceful; things could change quickly. It would be a mistake to leave his soldiers unequipped. 

But they didn't listen. Fucking bastards. What gave them the right to make decisions on the ground when he was the one in the thick of it? Assholes. They sat in their comfy chairs in Germany and played them like chess pieces. 

But like the good soldier he was, the captain followed his orders faithfully. He released three platoons from his company with barely one platoon remaining. The captain stayed. He'd be damned if he was going to leave his men.

Dominic had been one the soldiers chosen to leave. He didn't want to leave but he had little choice in the matter. The night before they were set to depart, Sean spent some time with him. They took a couple packs of beers with them and set up a campfire by a hillside. It was quiet out. And the cold starry night was comforting. 

"So what's going on? I feel like I haven't seen you in a while." Dominic said while he nursed his beer. 

"What... you miss me baby?" Sean chuckled and then took a gulp of his beer.

"Fuck you." Dominic shot him his middle finger. 

"No thank you." Sean laughed while Dominic rolled his eyes.

"So do you know where your next assignment will be?" Sean asked.

"Nope, not yet. We'll find out as soon as we get back to Germany."

Sean looked up at the diamond speckled sky. "Doesn't it seem like this assignment was a little too easy? I mean I even kind of like it here."




Duplicity Ch. 09



Dominic stared at him. "Right... Yea, you would say that wouldn't you?"

"What does that mean?"

"Oh please, you think I don't know about your little secret romance?"

"What the fuck? How did you?" Sean was shocked. They'd been very discreet. 

"Relax bro. The only reason I know is because I know you. For one you haven't gotten into trouble not once and you walk around with this goofy smile on your face."

Sean pursed his mouth and shrugged. "So?"

"So... I figured, if you're not trying to sneak out, you must want to stay in for some reason. And that girl up in the house is the only viable option. Even though I haven't seen her face completely, I can tell she's a stunner. And then the other day, I heard you whistling while you cleaned your M16 out. Whistling! Here's this badass motherfucker, whistling and humming to some old ass R Kelly. I mean, who in the hell whistles? Unless... they're getting some of that good shit." 

Sean groaned. "Shut your ass up. It's not like that." 

"Right. So tell me... how is it really?" The question had an obvious double meaning.

Sean took another swig of his beer. "None of ya damn business." 

Dominic chuckled. 

After a long stretch of silence, Sean's thoughts went back to that day. He couldn't wait to get another taste of her. But he had a feeling the captain was on to them, so they decided to not see each other for a couple of days. But he was craving her badly. 

"Good for you man. It looks good on you."

"What does?"

"Being in love."

"Fuck you man."

"Oh you can deny it all you want. But that spicy little thing in there has you twisted in knots."

"Yea well there's not much I can do about it, is there?"

"Why the hell not?"

"She's leaving man. She's being transferred to another farm or some shit like that. And doesn't know where she's going or when she'll leave."

"Yo, where there's a will, there's a way. Just talk to her and make sure you're on the same page. As soon as you wrap it up here you can find out what your options are with the U.S. Embassy. One thing I will tell you is... make sure you're serious about her. This isn't some half assed shit you can do for a time and then let her go."

Sean shot him an irritated gaze.

"Alright alright, I just wanted to make sure. So SINCE you are serious then you'll have talk to her parents. There will probably be a dowry or a bride's price you'll have to pay. This culture is very much based on honor and the honor you bring to your family. I've learned that kindness is remembered but insults are never forgotten. But make sure no one finds out about you two until you're ready to take it further. I ain't gonna lie, it will be hell in every way trying to make your lives fit; you're coming from two completely different worlds. But if you love her enough... you can make it work." 

Sean thought about what he said for a minute. "You sound like you know what you're talking about..."

Dominic's eyebrows gathered. He took a long swig of his beer but remained silent. 

Sean nodded; accepting that his friend wasn't going to elaborate. But his mind was going a million miles a minute. He could see it... a future with Khatira. A small house in Jersey, little kids running around, a dog.... and his favorite afternoon chai. He smiled to himself. Maybe it was possible. Maybe it was possible for people like him to be happy. 

Suddenly Dominic raised his beer bottle to his in a toast. "To love."

Sean looked at the beer bottle before he clinked it to his. "To freedom."

_____

It took 3 months after their arrival for al-Qaeda to take over the compound.

As soon as the majority of the soldiers left, al-Qaeda moved in. As if guided by a single malevolent force, they moved through the darkened corners of the fields.

Ramirez was one of the men tasked with guarding the main access point. If that entry point would have been secured, they could've had a chance. 

But Ramirez had not kept his word or gotten help. He had actually gotten much worse. One of his contacts gave him a "new and improved batch". It was the best he'd ever had... and ever since then he fiends for it constantly. He didn't wait until nighttime for his hit anymore; he'd sneak away and shoot up every chance he'd get. He avoided Sean like the plague. He was caught in a downward spiral and didn't want to admit he needed help.

And so on that fateful day, when he looked out through his binoculars while on post; he didn't see or sense any danger. His high had numbed him out completely. He looked like he was in and out of sleep. 

And so the rebel troops quickly and efficiently swarmed through the barriers, killing anything in their way. They didn't even bother to wake Ramirez from his stupor. It was as if they knew all along he would be no trouble. 

When the soldiers realized they were under attack, they fought bravely. They killed many enemies and some were badly wounded. But in the end they were simply overpowered. They didn't stand a chance. The 20 remaining soldiers, captain, language specialists, Farzin Khan and all the farm workers were rounded up, tied and made to kneel. 

Sean went through every possible escape scenario but there was just not any clear alternative. He worried when he didn't see Khatira, he wondered where she was. He hoped to God she'd escaped unharmed.

Two armed men with bushy beards and head coverings approached them. One was taller and stronger than the other. The tall strong man stood impatiently like a statue watching all the prisoners squirm on their knees. He wore a bored expression completely at odds with the other man. The shorter man looked animated and cruel. He seemed to be excited for the opportunity.

Without warning, the shorter man, came up to the first soldier at the end of the line and drew his gun. Before anyone could say a word, he shot a bullet through his head. They all gasped in horror as the soldier fell back to the floor with a thud.

"Good afternoon. My name is Arshad and he is Haseem. And now that I have your attention, who is your leader?" 

...

"If you cooperate, you might be spared." He waited for the language specialist to translate for him. When he did not, he punched him loudly in the face and kicked him in the stomach. Ajmal cried out and groaned. He doubled over from the pain in his stomach but he reluctantly repeated the words in English. 

"That would be me, I am the captain." The deep voice responded without hesitation. Haseem nodded and motioned for the men to bring Farzin Khan in as well. He turned on his heels and walked away.

The armed men dragged the captain and Farzin along towards the house.

__________

When the captain came back, Sean realized their situation was helpless. Farzin Khan never returned. They were all still tied up and on their knees; with guards on each side of them. 

To onlookers the captain walked up with dignity and resolve but Sean knew better. His shoulders were slightly dropped and he looked completely spooked. 

Whatever he saw or talked to must have been very bad. And yet he seemed to have come to terms with the unavoidable. As he walked, he made eye contact and discretely nodded to each of his men. The captain kneeled by Sean and hung his head low. 

"Captain?" Sean whispered as quietly as he could.

His commander slowly turned his head at the sound of Sean's voice. Suddenly his eyes darted around and he got a rush of energy. He quickly said, "Sean-remember-trust-no-one-but-yourself. I-have-faith-in-you. Do-anything-you-have-to... to-survive-and-then-make-this-right. They're-going-to-make-you-"

---

---

---

The booming noise echoed in Sean's ear. 

It was a vicious firecracker sound he knew all too well. 

His breath stopped. 

His heartbeat slowed. 

His voice was lost.

Caught between horror and desperation; the throbbing stillness froze him. One beat at a time.

---

---

---

"NOOOOO!!!!!!" Sean roared when he finally found his voice. 

He saw his fallen captain with a shot through the back of his head. Specks of blood that landed on the side of his face were still warm. 

Desperation turned into rage. Complete and utter rage. Sean's face turned bright red and he shook in anger. The veins in his neck and arms bulged in the most distracting way. 

"Let this be a lesson to you all. This will happen to you if you do not accept our terms." Arshad's vile voice rang out. 

They didn't realize Sean was a ticking time bomb. In one full swoop, he got up and whipped himself around while still tied. With all his strength he head-butted the surprised guard next to him and knocked him out. With pure adrenaline coursing through his veins, he attacked the guard on his other side. He side-kicked him and he fell over. Sean jumped on his chest with all his weight. He stomped on him with both feet ferociously until the man coughed up blood and stopped moving. 

But before Sean could move on to the next guard, he felt this intense pain on the side of his head. And his world turned black... 

...

When Sean came to, he wished he would just have been killed. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw. All the remaining soldiers in his company and the farm workers were dead. Body parts all lay on the ground around him. They made him sit in between the dismembered corpuses; patiently waiting for him to awaken. The strong stench of death permeated his insides. Sean felt dizzy and everything was spinning; he turned and vomited on the floor next to him. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. 

"Wake up you pig. Your time has come." Arshad said in a disgusted tone. 

Haseem still wore the same blank stoic expression. But suddenly he turned on his heels and walked towards the house as if his boredom had reached its limit. 

Sean's eyes were still closed. 

"Your fellow soldiers all decided to die rather than join our cause. They were useless anyway. But you... you I have left for last. I have a special treat for you."

Haphazardly they made him stand and dragged him up the hill towards the fields like a ragdoll. 

It was the early hours of the morning and still pitch dark out. Eerie torches of fire lighted their path along the way. They marched until they got to the now barren land. They forced him to his knees once again. The moist ground smelled rotten and moldy. Nothing like the fresh pretty poppy fields Sean remembered when he first arrived. 

His head hung low and it seemed that his limbs wouldn't move at will. He wondered if they shot him up with something. Sean tried to regain his strength but that last blow left him defenseless. He kept his eyes closed as he tried to block the gruesome images he'd just seen. Those fallen soldiers he'd served shoulder to shoulder with... savagely murdered. They didn't deserve to die that way.

"I know you know our language, pig. And do you know how I know?" The familiar cruel voice interrupted his thoughts.

Sean heard a woman whimper and opened his eyes. And to his horror there was Khatira; bound and gagged on her knees in front of him. She was crying uncontrollably. Her large brown eyes seemed to beg his forgiveness. 

It all came rushing to him now. She knew all this was going to happen. Their last night together was her solemn farewell. 

Sean hardened his gaze. And all he felt was betrayal.

Sean clenched his teeth and his stomach's contents threatened to spill over again.

"Ah... I see you're putting two and two together. Khatira has been a very bad girl. You see she was supposed to only do just as she was told. But she didn't do that, did she? Tell him. Tell him what you did." He removed her gag and forced her to speak.

She let out a muffled groan. "I'm so sorry Sean. T-t-they had my family. They took them hostage and forced me to spy for them. I-I-I had to protect them."

Arshad laughed loudly. He obviously understood Khatira's words in English but continued to speak in Pashto.

"Stupid girl. You never had a chance. You have disgraced your family in the worst of ways. If you actually cared about them, you never would have allowed this to happen. All you had to do was continue to report what you learned. But you stopped doing that, didn't you?"

"Let her go..." Sean dangerously whispered.

"Oh, you actually sound threatening... you're just an arrogant little boy. I don't know what the Emir sees in you and I don't care. What did you think... you could just come here and take what's ours?! Just like the poppy that once grew here... you'll regret ever touching her. Our little Khatira was to be married to one of our commanders and would have been bound by our laws. But now you have soiled her. No one will want her. And for that, I have the great honor of killing you both; no matter what the Emir has planned for you. Our laws must be obeyed." 

He swung the back of his rifle at Sean's face with a blow. Sean grunted as he fell to the side from the impact. The side of his face started to swell quickly. 

Although his head was ringing and he was dizzy; Sean shook it off and slowly and painfully got up to his knees again. Seeing Khatira in danger gave him a desperate burst of adrenaline. He refused to show weakness to this animal.

"No please stop! Please let my family and Sean go. I will do anything you ask. Please just don't hurt him or my family."

Arshad laughed wickedly. He shook his head and mockingly said, "Your family is dead... every last one of them. I spared them from having to live with the dishonor of knowing their daughter is nothing but a whore for the enemy."

Khatira let out a high pitch scream and trembled as she sobbed. She fell over inconsolably.

Sean's fury held his tears from falling. He felt more rage because he was so helpless. His right eye had gotten so swollen he could barely see out of it. He couldn't move and felt sluggish; and all he wanted to do was comfort Khatira.

"Are you feeling sleepy pig boy?" Arshad said in a sing song voice. With the tip of his rifle he poked Sean's chest as if approaching a tranquilized lion at the zoo. "I have to say you are as strong as an ox. With what we gave you, you shouldn't be able to keep your eyes open. And when it wears off, all you'll be able to think about is wanting more."

"I'm gonna fucking enjoy killing you." Sean whispered; making sure he understood every word.

Arshad looked at him for a second but then erupted in laughter. "Ah... you do speak Pashto! I hadn't heard you until now. Not bad. Your accent is very good. But tell me this, you are bound, drugged and surrounded by armed men. How will you kill me?" 

Silence.

"It's ok to admit defeat my friend. Today will be the last day you breathe. So say your last words... go on." He motioned a tall strong man standing behind Sean to approach. He was wielding a large gleaming sword.

Admitting his situation was helpless; he closed his eyes and made a short prayer for his family; specifically for his sister Sienna back home. She was shy and sensitive; and the best sister he could ever ask for. He never realized until that moment how much he missed her. What wouldn't he give for just another hour with her? He prayed she would survive losing him. 

When he opened his eyes, Khatira stared into his. God she was beautiful. The big yellow sun was rising behind her. The enchanting reds, yellows and oranges surrounded her dark silhouette like a halo. Even tear-faced and petrified; her tanned skin glistened in the sunlight. Her chocolate eyes probed his as if communicating what she felt for him. In that moment, he thanked God she would be the last image he saw.

"I love you." She whispered. 

Time slowed down. They breathed deeply and erratically as they waited for what was to come.

"Che bass har wakht sta pa stargo ke dub wey." (I wish to be lost in your eyes for all of eternity) Sean said as he waited for his eternal blow.

--- 

--- 

---

Sean's heart beat loudly in anticipation. When his gaze left Khatira's he noticed Arshad had taken a step back and the executioner's sword was now suspended in mid-air. Haseem had returned and now held his hand up as if halting the very sword from striking. Sean inhaled and exhaled. 

"Interesting." Haseem muttered. He arched his eyebrow as he seemed to be deeply intrigued with Sean's final words. He seemed impressed Sean would know such a native phrase. He nodded at the man holding the sword signaling him to step back. 

"What are you doing Haseem? They must die! They've offended Allah and our Holy laws. They must pay the price!" Arshad cried out. 

Haseem looked at him with his signature blank expression. "Did I ask for your opinion?"

Silence.

"You know very well the Emir has given us instructions with this one."

He turned towards Sean and said, "You can be useful to us. Ally yourself with us willingly or by force..."

"Go. To. Hell." Sean's said through clenched teeth.

Haseem seemed to almost crack a smile. "Do not think that I am the one to be trifled with. I will give you 30 seconds to accept my conditions or he will kill the girl before your very eyes." At his words, Arshad became animated. He grabbed the sword and brandished it at her. Khatira closed her eyes and whimpered. 

"Leave her alone motherfucker." There really wasn't another way out of this. 

"I'll do whatever you ask of me. Just let her go." Sean said in a tired voice. He was ready to tell them anything they wanted to hear. He could play along until he found a way to get Khatira out of there. He didn't know what they had planned but he was sure it involved acts of terror. All Sean could think about was keeping Khatira safe.

Haseem assessed him for a moment and for some reason he believed him. Sean knew he would never trust this man but he believed he would keep his word. They had a mutual understanding. 

"Let them go." He motioned the guard next to Sean and Arshad who stood next to Khatira. 

As the guard was untying him, Sean looked at Khatira. They had been on their knees this whole time. He didn't know what he just agreed to but he would strategize later. Right now he needed to get her out of there. She cracked a smile at him. 

"It's going to be ok baby. We're going to be ok." Sean sighed in relief and Khatira nodded in agreement.

Suddenly Sean caught a glimpse of Arshad and the shiny sword he was holding. The angry man's hands clenched it tightly. 

"For Allah!" Arshad screamed. Before Sean could even form a thought, the long sword whipped through the air and sliced Khatira's throat. 

Khatira eyes fluttered up and crimson blood quickly poured from her neck.

Sean's eyes widened. "NOOOO!!!" Although he screamed his voice sounded hoarse and weak.

By then he was fully untied and he ran towards her and caught her small body before she landed on the ground. He protectively gathered her in his arms. She coughed and sounded like she was chocking, her body was shaking. Her half-lidded eyes looked towards the man she loved while big tears fell down her cheeks. 

"Sean." She gently breathed. She managed to softly smile one last time before closing her eyes. His name would be the last sound she ever whispered.

Rage bubbled out of Sean. He looked up at the sky and roared. He squeezed Khatira's limp body to his and desperately wept over her. His harsh cries sounded like a wounded animal. Finally he gently laid her on the ground. 

He was not a good man. If he would've just left her alone, this would have never happened.

This was on him. All of it.

Then he saw it. The shiny silver dog tags he gave her wrapped around her waist. She had taken the chain and carefully twisted it around a cloth and wore it as a sash under her clothes.




Duplicity Ch. 09



Something in Sean cracked in that moment. Something he would never be able to get back. Broken. His head was spinning and he felt his reality slip away. All he felt was pure rage.

Suddenly he overpowered Arshad before he realized what was happening. He swiftly grabbed the sword from his very hand and pierced his stomach. Arshad surprised eyes widened and groaned as he fell to the ground on his knees. Sean wielded the sword with such force that when he struck; he instantly severed his head. 

"You're a natural." Haseem said in appreciation. He knew Sean would react this way and let him. It was only a matter of time. Arshad talked too much anyway.

"Now, there is much to be done."

Sean looked at the man as if he'd lost his mind. "I will never follow you."

Haseem let out a crooked grin. "You say that now. But all you need is a little reconditioning. It's all been planned out. After we're done with you, you won't even recognize yourself."

That same rage from before coursed through his veins. He clenched his teeth and charged Haseem like a bull. But suddenly Sean felt a prick in his neck and stumbled heavily to the ground. He landed a few inches away from Khatira's angelic face. 

Everything around him grew hazy and heavy. 

His last thought before slipping away was Khatira's lush midnight hair and how it smelled of chai.

----------

Here are some meanings of people's names:

Khatira- "desire"

Haseem- "decisive one"

Arshad- "path to righteousness, rightly guided" (Ironic huh?)

Emir- "general or commander"

**So we're pretty much at a little more than a half way point in the story. This chapter was really hard to write. What do you think, will Sean be able to overcome everything he's been through??



Duplicity Ch. 10



Hey guys- So sorry for the long wait. In this chapter we go back to the present time. Yay! Chapter 11 should be coming up in the queue right after this one, so be on the watch for it.  After the heaviness of chapter 9, aaand maybe even a couple of drinks, I needed this chapter to be lighter. (Shh don't tell anyone but I might've been sipping on what Sean has in that trusty flask of his. Lol hahaha) I hope you approve. As always let me know your thoughts. Oh and thank you to gildedbutterflies for editing this time around. Thanks for the support guys, I really appreciate it. 




"Can't sleep?" 

Layla's eyes widened as she heard the sound that haunted her thoughts. She hadn't heard from that deep voice for a couple days now. 

Her breath and pulse quickened. Where did he come from? She was starting to wonder if he was a figment of her imagination. She hated the fact that even though she tried to mentally rid herself of him; her body quickly reminded her that it wasn't that easy. She took a sip of her hot earl grey tea before answering.

"Nope. How did you know I was here?"

She'd snuck up on the roof when the tossing and turning in her bed became too much. It was barely 4am and was still dark out. The stars brightly lit the dark sky. It made the intimidating deep sea waters glimmer as if controlling some hidden fury. The twinkling lights from the sleeping homes ran up and down the mountainside. It was as if someone threw a large batch of diamonds all over the island. 

Strolling to the rooftop on a whim, she convinced herself there was no way she'd run into anyone at that hour. Going there wasn't even a conscious thought. It was as if her body was tugged there by the tender memories the place held. When she got there and caught sight of the view; she was mesmerized and suddenly very lucid. She just couldn't tear herself away. 

Merle covered her with a soft blanket as if she'd just requested it from him. How did he know she had been shivering with cold? Thanks to the thin black tank top and small white shorts she was wearing. 

He shrugged. "I always know where you are." 

That caught Layla by surprise. He sure hadn't been acting like it. 

"That's.... creepy." She let out a nervous chuckle. A tiny smile threatened to spill from her lips as her eyes caught his. She might not want to admit it but his words caused a flutter of giddiness inside of her. 

"But thanks, I was getting really chilly."

Merle ignored her comment and sat in a nearby lawn chair. He nervously rubbed his hands together. He tried to keep his distance from her. Really tried. But fuck, he was only human. There was only so much he could handle.

The nightmares were bad tonight and made him wake up in a cold sweat. There were vivid images of the farm again. He could almost feel the crawling drops of dried blood on his skin. There were flashes of bodies, Khatira's high pitched scream, evil clown faces that mocked him, wielded swords... laughed at him. 

Quickly he got up in the middle of the night, shuffled to the edge of his room and sat with his legs folded under him. Sitting very still, he did his breathing exercises and tried meditating the way he'd learned in Bali. 

But that shit only worked to a certain degree. 

He was used to battling his demons by now... but sometimes he didn't win. 

No matter how badly he wanted to. 

And then he thought of Layla. Just the thought of her slowed his breathing and anchored him to his center. There was something about being with her that calmed him from the inside out. She was like his personal sedative...

He wondered if she was awake at that time, so he set out to find her. He was sick of fighting it. Whatever came their way, he'd protect her. 

Since the whole family was set to arrive today, he had to keep the Merle charade up until everything was revealed. Selfishly he needed her now more than ever so he just couldn't tell her his true identity now. 

Fuck bad timing and fuck the world. 

He was going to be with Layla. He felt sorry for anyone who got in his way. He didn't know how or when but it would happen. How the hell was he going to tell her truth?

"So is this going to be a thing for us... rooftops?" Layla asked interrupting his thoughts.

"If you want it to be."

Silence.

"I can't figure you out Merle."

"Are you trying to?"

Layla shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe."

"What can I do to help your puzzle?"

"I'm not so sure if you're willing to."

...

Merle's face remained neutral but his pained eyes revealed how true her words were. 

...

He held back. 

She gave him the perfect opening and he held back on telling her the truth. 

He couldn't. Even if he told her his real identity; he couldn't tell her about what happened to him. Because if she knew only a little bit of the shit that goes through his head, she'd run for the hills. Even though he really should be helping her run for the hills... he couldn't bring himself to let her go.

"There are some things I just can't talk about Layla, at least not right now. I'm not sure if ever..."

Layla slowly nodded her head in understanding. She pursed her lips and bit the inside of her cheeks. That comment stung. She didn't know why it stung; she hadn't known him that long. But it felt like she did. She took another drink of her now lukewarm tea as her throat had suddenly gone dry.

Even though she'd already guessed it, Layla finally came to the realization that Merle was dealing with some heavy shit. Things she didn't understand. Intuition and coming from a military family helped her come to that conclusion. And until he was ready to talk about it, or got some outside help, it would be useless to try to pry it out of him. She wasn't sure if she had the patience for that... and yet here she was.

Closing her eyes she inhaled deeply. 

There was a soft whiff of him that mixed in with the morning air. That had to be one her favorite smells in the world. If she could just bottle it up to use sparingly when she had a bad day, she would. 

She smiled to herself. She loved it up there. It was so peaceful and quiet. The soft crashing waves lulled her lingering worries away. 

With Merle, she would take what she could get... he was worth it.

"So are you excited about the rest of the family and friends arriving today?" Trying to keep the conversation light.

"Sure." Merle sighed. To be honest, that was part of the reason he couldn't quite sleep. He was about to see his mother for the first time in years. He was on edge about the whole thing. He could never quite lie to her face. She would always catch him on his bullshit. Part of him was excited to finally see everyone, the other part of him was terrified. Would they recognize him? It wasn't safe. 

"I've been talking to Rafaele... Sienna and Jason's friend. He's planning the bachelorette party tonight. Are you going?"

Merle let out a laugh and he felt himself relax. Layla stopped talking and her mouth was still slightly open. What the hell was wrong with her? Did she really just ask him if he was going to the bachelorette party? 

Layla shyly chuckled and pointed to herself, "Blame that on the lack of sleep. I meant to ask if you we're going to the bachelor party."

"Right... of course that's what you meant. You want me to strip, don't you? Those ladies can't handle all of this." He said teasingly as he rubbed his large belly.

"Oh shut up." She laughed and threw a small throw pillow at him. "You think I'm going to let you give away my goods like that?"

Silence.

Layla's eyes widened. Did she really just say that? In her past relationships, she had never been one to be possessive. She always played the role of the cool, detached strong woman. But it was too late to take it back now. She looked him straight in the eyes to let him know she was serious.

The corner of his lips twitched into a smile as he took in her words. She was so fucking sexy right now. His smoldering eyes caressed hers and it looked like he was a second away from pouncing on her. 

"Oh shit... so it's like that?" Merle asked with a raised eyebrow. He licked his lips. 

Layla pursed her lips in a grin and slowly nodded her head.

"I don't know." He sighed. "I'm not convinced. You're going to have to show me." He turned in his chair and opened his legs slightly.

"Show you what?"

"How you handle your goods."

Layla's soft laughter tinkled and she shook her head flirtatiously.

"You're sexy as fuck, you know that?"

"So you've said." She gave him a shy smile.

"Come here."

It wasn't a question or a request. It was a statement, an order. Typical Merle. 

"You come here." She stated stubbornly even though she secretly liked it. She inwardly smiled. 

"Alright." He said lightly, got up and walked over to her. That was a surprise. She thought he would have insisted she go to him. She yelped when he lifted her from the chair, held her to his chest and carried her like a baby. 

"What the?" 

Merle shrugged. "I wasn't going to argue with you... I'll just do it myself." 

Well damn. Did he always just take whatever he wanted? 

The truth was that he reached his breaking point. His hands itched to touch those long soft legs.

"You're a mess." Layla rolled her eyes at him although she enjoyed being in his arms. He carried her like she barely weighed anything.

He rubbed his nose behind her ear and planted a soft kiss there. She shivered slightly and felt him nod his head.

"Unless I'm with you," he whispered. 

He pulled back to look at her. His eyes probed hers, communicating how true his words were.

Layla stared at him while her legs dangled from his arms. She was so far up from the ground. She was dizzy in desire for him. He didn't seem in a rush to go anywhere as if this was the most natural pose in the world. 

She wrapped her arms around him and firmly pressed her lips to his. They both groaned from the contact. It had been too long. She tasted so sweet. Their tongues danced and he angled his face for more access. Frantically they gripped each other as if they couldn't get enough. He managed to stumble back and sit on a chair and firmly planted her on his lap. He broke the kiss and they breathed heavily as they caught their breath. 

"What are you doing to me?" She said breathlessly.

"Me? What are you doing to me? Wearing shit like this..." He tugged at the thin straps of her tank top. "Are you trying to kill me?" 

Layla chuckled and shook her head. "What good would you be to me dead?" 

At that he let out a grunt but held her close to his chest. He grabbed the blanket and covered her with it. She was such a distraction. He felt his resolve slip when he saw her shivering in those tiny clothes. 

He had to control himself. He didn't want to start something they couldn't finish. 

After thinking about it, he didn't want to be intimate with her again until she knew who he really was. And in truth, he just wanted to be with her. He needed to be with her. What was it about her that made him feel like everything was going to be okay? His fucked up past seemed small in her presence. It was as if with just one touch she had the power to erase... everything.

He sat down and settled her across his lap and she quietly snuggled into his chest. 

...

"You know when I was kid, my uncle, who was really an old family friend; used to take me out to the batting cages. I must have been like 10 years old. He used to play pro ball and I thought he was a god. I wanted to be just like him. On like Saturday nights, we'd sneak out when everyone was asleep... like we were on a secret mission or some shit like that." He laughed at the memory. 

"There's this little place up in Jersey that's open 24/7. So we'd go and bat for a couple hours and just talk about guy stuff..." Merle said thoughtfully. 

"I thought my mom didn't know anything. And I felt like this big fucking shit, sneaking behind my mom's back. But one day we're about to go to bed and she tells me to get my bat out of her car because she was going to bed. I tried to play it off like I didn't need it. But she winked at me and smiled and told me to get it out of her car anyway. I told my uncle about it and he just laughed and said, moms knew everything because they had a chip in their brain connected to their children... so she'd always know when I was lying." 

Layla chuckled and Merle joined her in a laugh. "And I believed him! This motherfucker stayed lying to me and I ate that shit up..." 

Silence.

Layla felt his body tense, but she let him continue at his own pace while softly rubbing his chest in encouragement. 

After a long stretch of silence, he exhaled a long breath he seemed to be holding in. 

"But some days I'd give anything to go back and be that confused naive little boy."

Unconsciously Layla stopped stroking his chest and looked up at him expectantly. Merle met her gaze and gave her a soft kiss on her plump lips. 

"I've been lost for a long time Layla. War... it changes people. I was lost and angry for a long time. But I always knew I must have survived that fucking nightmare, for a reason. I've been to hell and back and I knew it had to be... for something. I didn't really know why, until I met you... You've given me something I thought I'd never feel again. So no matter what happens to me or to us, I want thank you for that. I... I care for you."

Layla didn't know what he meant by that. What could ever happen to him? To them? She felt a little confused by his words but was so happy about him opening up about his feelings that she kept those questions to herself.

"I care about you too."

He kissed her slowly and softly as if Father Time would make an exception and stop... just for them. 

She moaned into him and felt herself get lightheaded. They broke the kiss and were breathing heavily. Damn she tasted so good. But no. He needed to get himself under control. So after a minute of thinking about fucking baseball stats, he was good. 

When that got out of the way, they talked for hours. They talked and laughed and teased each other as if they were old time friends. Surprisingly Merle was the one who kept the conversation going. Usually the quiet reserved one, he probably talked more than Layla had ever heard. He opened up about his travels. The places he's been in the last 5 years. He told her funny stories about some of the local customs he'd seen. For a moment Merle forgot all about his haunting past. She made him forget.

Layla talked about her flower shop idea and of course Merle encouraged her to go for it. She beamed as she talked about the flower distributors she'd been in contact with and the arrangements she would make and how she would market her business. She sounded like a little kid ready to go on a field trip. 

There was a moment of silence when the sun finally came up. At that moment nothing needed to be said. They unconsciously held onto each other a little tighter, barely breathing at the sight of it. The oranges, reds and yellows washed over them gifting them with a new day. It was almost liberating.

After a while, Layla yawned and snuggled deeper into his chest. And she softly slowed her words. Finally while still holding her tight he closed his eyes as well. 

And just like that, they fell into a deep peaceful slumber wrapped into each other.

___

It's funny how small you can feel in a room full of someone else's family and friends. There's this intangible bond that a new person isn't quite authorized to access yet. 

Layla was an assertive outgoing person; she wasn't shy or afraid to speak her mind. She'd always been that way. She had an ability to command a room... a necessary skill for a wedding planner.

But in that moment, in the room full of Sienna and Jason's family and friends; she suddenly felt small and timid. Layla didn't know why the hell she felt that way. Maybe she wanted them to actually like her. 

Layla sighed. She wished Henry were there to dish with. He had a way of making her laugh as he gossiped about people and what they were wearing. He had to run an errand and wanted to give the incoming guests space so he'd left early in the morning and wouldn't return until the following day. It was nice having him around; he was actually very helpful to her. Everything wedding related was pretty much done. All the guests had their assigned rooms and were settled in. 

Thank God they got everything ready in time. 

Last night Jason had to fly out unexpectedly to Germany but would return this evening. At being left alone she thought Sienna would be freaking out but she wasn't. 

Sienna proved to be the consummate host, making sure everyone was comfortable and settled in. She made sure everyone ate and was having a good time. Layla just served as backup for her. 

Layla was surprised at herself because she wasn't anxious or going crazy because of the chaos as she normally would be. She was calm and relaxed and even... happy. She was sure Merle had something to do with her mood.

And so having nothing to do but feel awkward and shy in a living room full of family, Layla quietly sipped her wine in the far corner taking it all in. Her eyes darted back and forth as she tried to capture as much action as possible. She suppressed a smile as she drank but her eyes couldn't help but laugh. 

How could such a small amount of people make so much noise? She was sure they could be heard in the whole neighborhood. The music was blaring in the background but the voices were even louder. They didn't seem to mind talking over each other either. Some would laugh while others would argue and others were somewhere in between. 

Layla was fascinated by the sounds. It was a steady hum of love and excitement that filled the air. It was 5 days before the wedding and everyone was getting acquainted. They had met over 2 hours ago and they still talked non-stop until now. 

By far, Sharon and Gigi, Sienna and Nicole's mothers were the loudest of the bunch. Well, it was really Gigi. She had this husky, lively voice and laughed easily. Her loud chuckle was contagious and when she really got into it, her laugh turned into a sort of wheeze as she doubled over and hugged her stomach. She really did produce a lot of sound for such a petite woman. 

Sharon on the other hand was sweet and also very funny. While Gigi's comments were often of the over 21 variety, Sharon was a bit more discrete. Sharon and Gigi played off each other as if they were twins. You could tell they were best friends, just like their daughters. They surrounded Sienna asking every possible detail from the wedding to how she was feeling in her condition. They were already planning on making her some nasty sounding home remedy concoction for "the baby".

Nicole's father Jose sat nearby the women. He was an interesting character. He was a quiet, stern looking man. He was the tallest of the men at around 6'5". He was built like an ox but had the gait of a free roaming tiger. Although he was older, he was still a very strong man. His tanned arms were thickly roped with muscles but he carried himself as if he were light as a feather. Layla heard in passing that he once had been a professional baseball player. Layla was sure that in his day he made more than one woman swoon.

Layla hadn't heard him say more than two words. It was probably because Gigi spoke more than enough for all of them. Although his face was stoic and calm, every so often the corner of his lips would quirk a smile. It was obvious he enjoyed the women's non-stop excited chatter. 

From across the room Layla spotted Celeste, Nicole's great-grandmother, touching every item around the room that she could. It was as if she were counting all the furniture... almost hopping from object to object. 

It was amazing she'd even made the trip. She was 92 years old and threw a fit when someone suggested she might need to stay because of her age. Over her dead body, she said in a surprisingly lucid, clear voice. There was no way in hell she would miss this wedding. 




Duplicity Ch. 10



The small elderly woman's skin was light brown and wrinkled all over. She wore a full white skirt and blouse and a red shawl around her shoulders. Her crisp white hair was straightened for the special occasion. Bright red lipstick was smeared over her false teeth, and her sparse eyelashes were covered in clumpy mascara. 

She suffered from dementia and it'd gotten worse when her daughter, Nicole's grandmother passed away a couple years ago. She seemed like a nice elderly woman, quietly entertaining herself with what was at her disposal. 

On the other side of the room, the younger people lingered, getting to know each other. Nicole's cousins, Luis and Roberto were chatting with Jason's friends and groomsmen, Billy and Carlos. 

Ana, Nicole's cousin, excitedly chatted with them. She seemed to like to talk and apparently didn't need to take breaths of air in between her ramblings. Ana was the bridesmaid coupled with Billy. And she seemed to be almost drooling at Carlos and Billy. Poor thing, it didn't seem like the guys were paying her any mind. 

Ana was cute, in an overly eager girl next door kind of way. She had shoulder length brown hair, creamy toffee colored skin and expressive brown eyes. She had a nice figure but didn't carry herself like she did. 

The problem was that standing next to her was Isabella, the other cousin. Although Layla didn't think she was actually blood-related. Layla heard Nicole and Sienna once mention their families had a habit of picking up 'strays' or people that were in need of a family. Their doors were always open to those in need. Gigi and Sharon quickly "adopted" them as their own. It wouldn't be unusual for them to start calling Gigi and Sharon ma or mami, and Jose, pop or papi. Apparently that's what had happened with Isabella. Layla didn't know her background story but she seemed a bit intense. 

Isabella had long platinum blonde dyed hair and piercing green eyes. Her skin had that perfect tanned glow as if she went sunbathing every day. She looked to be mixed race. She was gorgeous, almost breathtakingly so. She stood tall as a model and seemed at ease wearing her extremely high heels. 

The men, mainly Carlos and Billy seemed drawn to her like a moth to a flame. It was understandable. Ana didn't seem to mind and continued talking to herself as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The men didn't seem to mind cutting Ana off to ask Isabella the simplest of questions. Which in turn, Isabella would give one word answers. That seemed to peak the interest of the hot red-blooded males even more. Mysterious and sexy. 

They had unconsciously moved her to the middle of their little circle. Nevertheless she looked kind of bored to be there. She would force a smile but would impassively check her phone for messages. She didn't seem rude or conceited; just used to getting that kind of unwanted attention. 

Layla saw Sienna approach the 'cool kid's corner'. They all beamed at her as she took her time hugging and kissing each one. Even Isabella seemed genuinely excited to see Sienna. When Sienna started walking away Isabella gave the group an excuse and quickly joined her. Carlos and Billy looked like lost little puppies as they watched her leave. At the sight of it, Layla shook her head and smirked. Men.

Suddenly Celeste closed in on Layla's view. 

She gasped and almost shrieked in surprise. She scared the living shit out of her! Where the hell did she come from? She was as quiet as a mouse. Celeste smiled warmly at her as if she knew her.

"!Te encontre! (I found you!)" She exclaimed with a triumphant huff. 

"Oh hello."

From close up Layla could see she had some food stuck in her dentures along with some of that smeared red lipstick. She seemed like a sweet old lady. Then Celeste slowly stuck her pruney thumb in her mouth while intently looking at her. Interesting. She's probably going to take care of that food she had stuck. Layla tried not to laugh. But why was she standing so close?

Suddenly, Celeste swiped her wet thumb over Layla's eyebrows, smoothing them into place. Layla sputtered and shook her face away in shock.

But before Layla could even yell in surprise, Celeste was gone. Layla's eyes widened and sat there in complete shock. 

"Gross!" She wiped her eyebrows. After a couple minutes she let out a chuckle and shook her head at the bizarre encounter.

"You gotta be careful with that one."

Layla laughed and turned to see Merle. "I didn't even see her coming! She's a sneaky little thing, isn't she?"

"You have no idea." He mumbled to himself but grinned at her.

They had woken up on the roof together to find the house in a flurry of activity. It was the most restful sleep they had in awhile. They parted ways with the promise of seeing each other in a couple of hours. All day Layla had little butterflies fluttering in her stomach while Merle walked with an extra pep in his step. Now that Layla saw him again, those damn butterflies were back and flapping away inside of her.

Layla stood up to greet him. She wore a jade green strapless dress with a gold cuff bracelet and earrings to compliment. The dress hugged her figure in all the right places. The color was a gorgeous contrast with her brown skin. Her graceful long neck stood high and her bare shoulders looked completely kissable. Her makeup was subtle and her cheeks had a pretty natural glow. In her sexy heels she was about an inch or two below his eye level.

Merle protectively placed his hand on the small of her back and brought her closer to him... as if he wanted her all to himself. He gave her a kiss on the fleshy part behind her ear. In response Layla sucked in a breath of air as she felt her nipples harden and her pussy moisten. He must know that was her spot. 

"You look beautiful." He whispered on her neck. His warm breath caused a current to run through her. She felt him smile as he felt her body softly tremble. He definitely knew that was her spot.

She looked up into his eyes as her brown eyes sparkled at his words.

"Thank you." 

As if he couldn't resist, he pulled her towards him and gave her a soft lingering kiss on her parted mouth. That caught her by surprise. He seemed to always be so reserved around other people.

She didn't know what they were. And she was ok with not putting a label on it just yet. She did however know what she felt for him. Anyone could tell when they looked at her. As she gazed up into his eyes... she guessed they could tell from looking at him too. 

She would have to tell Sienna quickly so she wouldn't be caught off guard. She knew it was unprofessional to date the groom's cousin while she was working but she could honestly tell Sienna she hadn't planned on any of it. It just happened. 

Hopefully Jason and Sienna would understand and give them their blessing.

Merle stretched out his hand and Layla's hand easily found its way into his.

__

In another corner of the room...

"Mami, papi, this is John." Nicole said dryly. She inwardly groaned and really didn't want to introduce them. He happened to be standing right next to her and they kept looking at him as if waiting for an introduction.

Jose and Gigi waited for John's proper response. Their culture was old school and demanded a deep respect for elders.

The blonde blue eyed young man wore a shit-eating grin that looked like he knew a secret he wasn't willing to share. 

Cocky son-of-a-bitch, Nicole thought. He was probably thinking of what they did just a couple hours ago. His expression was almost comical. Jose made a quick assessment of him as he waited for him to speak. He felt his paternal instincts kick in.

"Hi mami and papi. Nice to meet you." John cheekily said and he put his arm around Nicole.

Instantly Nicole's eyes widened and her mouth slightly opened in shock. 

He did not just do that. She discreetly shoved his arm off and clenched her teeth at him. That was a no-no. He had to warm up to that shit. In time maybe as a term of endearment one could call them that... if and only if they liked you. John was a mess; he even looked a little drunk. You never get a second chance to make a first impression. 

Nicole rolled her eyes. Whatever... she didn't care.

Gigi suppressed a chuckle and looked almost impressed by his audacity. Jose on the other hand wore a deep scowl. John really had to have some balls on him to not be intimidated by someone like Jose. Nicole's father didn't say anything but bored holes into him with his eyes. 

John swallowed loudly and kept scratching his neck which happened to be getting redder by the second. 

Nicole tried not to laugh. Not so cocky now, huh? Did he not know she was an only child and definitely a daddy's girl? Idiot.

John looked at the large strong man who looked he wanted to strangle him with his bare hands. Well he fucked this up pretty nicely, didn't he? What the hell had he just said? That last round of drinks must have hit him a little harder than he thought. But he'd been so fucking nervous in meeting her parents that he had drunk a bit too much. He probably looked a little tipsy as his mouth hung open for a little longer than normal.

"¿Que fue lo que este dijo?" (What was it that this one said?) Jose's voice was dangerously low.

Nicole, who had been momentarily petrified, tried to play it off and said, "No papi, este es el amiguito de Jason que tiene problemas mentales. (No dad, this is Jason's little friend with special needs.) 

"Pobresito." (Poor little guy). She patted John's head like a puppy while John scrunched his eyebrows in confusion.

"Ah." The parents said in unison. 

Gigi giggled and winked at John while Jose narrowed his eyes at him. He didn't believe that shit for a second but he'd let it go... for now. He scoffed at him and slowly walked away. 

A shiver coursed through John and he thought he might've just pissed himself a little. That was one scary motherfucker. What had he gotten himself into? 

John looked towards Nicole who had also walked away with Gigi. A soft smile escaped him without realizing it. His eyes followed her moving form throughout the room. The delicious sway of her ass beckoned him to come hither. He licked his lips. He almost groaned out loud as there was still a faint taste of her... on his lips. He closed his eyes savoring it for a moment.

That was why. He was completely fucked. He sighed heavily and walked towards the bar. He needed another drink.



Duplicity Ch. 11



"Merle! Merle!" Sienna hollered over the noise when she caught sight of him. 

"Come and meet my mom." She excitedly called him over. With all the running around, she hadn't seen him for a couple days now.

Surprisingly after speaking with Mikhail, Sienna felt better. She finally knew all the horrible details of what Sean had been through and she finally saw a way to help him. It was the not knowing that was slowly driving her insane. She prayed everything would go according to plan.

If they stuck to the plan, everything would be ok. 

If they stuck to the plan, everything would be ok. 

It was the mantra that helped her sleep at night. 

Now all she had to do was keep her cool. She just needed to make sure Sean was comfortable and treat him affectionately just as she normally would. She didn't want to spook him.

She smiled at him and then noticed he was toting Layla behind him. Sienna noticed his hand possessively grab hers as they walked. Layla looked a little embarrassed and her gaze seemed apologetic. Interesting... 

She thought they weren't serious. Initially Sienna teased Merle about Layla but never thought anything would really happen. The Merle persona wasn't exactly a look that would necessarily attract women, let alone Layla. How did that happen? She guessed she underestimated her little brother's skills. Same old Sean. Them being together made everything that more complicated. Didn't he realize how insane their lives were right now?

Just then Sienna caught sight of Merle's clenched jaw and narrowed eyes; she knew that was her clue. Fuck off... 

Well fine. Sienna wasn't going to argue with him, even though it was a bad idea to get into a relationship right now. She worried about him even more. How was their plan going to work now? 

After observing him for a moment she noticed he seemed... different. Even though Sean put up a good front when he first arrived, Sienna knew he was battling something heavy. It was as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders... and was getting tired of standing.

But now with Layla by his side, he looked like he was ready to take on anything. With squared shoulders and with a calculated and determined stride he walked toward them. She knew it must be so hard seeing the family again after all these years. If Layla was helping him ease out of his shell, then Sienna would welcome her with open arms. 

He needed to have all the fight in him possible, especially for what was to come. 

Sienna already really liked Layla as a friend. But in the end it would be up to her. Sienna was pretty sure Layla didn't know Merle was really Sean. But Sienna was going to take a step back and let Sean handle it. If he wanted her advice, he would come to her. Or so she hoped. 

Sienna walked up to meet them and hugged Merle in greeting. 

She looked towards Layla and smiled. "You look so pretty." 

Sienna hugged her to reassure her it was ok. "Just be patient with him. You really are good for each other." She whispered in her ear. 

Layla wasn't expecting that, she thought she'd have to awkwardly explain how they ended up together. But Sienna seemed to welcome her right in. Layla noticed Sienna had a very protective tone as she spoke. She chalked it up to Sienna being Sienna.

The three of them walked towards the awaiting group. There was a thick silence as they waited for someone to speak.

...

Sienna patted his shoulders, "He's shy but this is Merle, Jason's cousin. And you've already met Layla. Merle, this is my mom Sharon and Nicole's parents Gigi and Jose."

Merle nodded towards them but remained silent. His hand remained glued to Layla's. 

At seeing him Sharon cocked her head to the side seemingly deep in thought. Her eyes perused Merle's form from the top of his head to his feet just observing him. Merle averted his eyes from hers. Layla watched Sharon and thought that was odd. Was she checking Merle out?

"Have we met before Merle?" Sharon asked. 

"I just introduced him to you for first time mom." Sienna rushed to answer. But it didn't seem like Sharon was hearing her.

Sharon slightly narrowed her eyes at Merle in confusion. She slowly approached him as if trying to get a better look. 

She smiled. "We give hugs in this family." 

Sharon got on her tippy toes and wrapped her arms around the stranger. She closed her eyes and squeezed him tightly. She inhaled deeply but stepped away before he could protest.

With widened eyes Sharon stared at Merle as she held herself perfectly still at the revelation.

Clearly confused from scene everyone waited for her speak. But she didn't. Finally she let out a toothy smile.

Sharon was kind of a free-spirit in her beliefs. In that moment she believed her son's spirit was manifesting itself inside this cousin Merle. She knew it sounded crazy but she just had this strong feeling. She confirmed it with his smell. She couldn't believe it! She would have to figure out how to tell Sienna. In the meantime she'd try to get to know Merle and see what kind of a person was her son's spirit was dwelling in.

Layla looked between Merle and Sharon. What the hell? Did she just smell him? She felt herself get hot with irritation. Again, was she checking out her man?! Oh hell no. Did this cougar not see they were together?

Merle was taken aback at Sharon's reaction. He didn't know what to say. Did she recognize him? She had just given him a hug the same way she used to when he was little. He willed himself not to react but it was hard. 

Just then he glanced at Layla who was trying to hide her glare at Sharon. If it had been any other time, he would have laughed at the obvious confusion. He pulled her a little closer breaking her out of her concentration. In response Layla smiled warmly at him.

"Nice to meet you Merle. So where in New York are you from?" Gigi tried to make light conversation. She didn't know what the hell was wrong with her friend Sharon... checking out ugly cousin Merle like that. His girlfriend Layla looked like she was about to strangle her. She would have to snap her out of it.

Merle nodded impassively at Gigi's question. He didn't trust himself to speak right now. Everyone kept their eyes on him waiting for him to elaborate because the question wasn't a yes or no question. But his response never came. 

Gigi mumbled in Spanish something about having to meet yet another one of Jason's people with special needs.

Merle's eyes traveled towards Jose who was analyzing him as well. Jose was now curious at the man who'd been somewhat rude to his wife by not answering her question. They stood there giving each other hard stares, neither one of them flinching. 

Merle observed the man he'd come to admire so many years ago and clenched his teeth as he tampered his emotions. He looked exactly the same; he might have even looked a little stronger than he was before. Merle remembered when he used to wish he would grow up to be as tall and strong as his uncle Jose. Fucking bullshit.

Layla silently observed the exchange and thought the whole thing was a bit odd. It seemed like they'd met before. With all the commotion, she never made the connection with Merle's story about his uncle and the man in front of them.

Finally Sienna came up and hugged Merle's free side and broke the silence. 

"Isn't he squishy? I just love this guy." She beamed up at Merle. 

Sienna sensed the tension and tried to lighten up the mood. Merle's arm wrapped around Sienna and squeezed her back. He looked down at her and gave her a crooked smile. 

"Squishy huh? You calling me fat?" 

It was a little inside joke between the two of them. When they were little, Suzy would call Sienna fat behind her back. As soon as Suzy was out of sight, Sienna would stick her tongue out at her and yell out, 'I'm not fat, I'm squishy!'

"No squishy like a plush teddy bear, an annoying but cute teddy bear."

Merle chuckled and shook his head. Sienna always knew how to put him at ease. Sharon and Gigi smiled at Sienna. They really weren't surprised she warmed to Jason's cousin so quickly. That was just the way she was.

By this time, Celeste made her way around to them and stopped when she spotted Merle. She smiled and her wrinkled face followed. After wiggling her fingers at him, she winked and then blew him a kiss. 

Everyone noticed the exchange and started laughing... loudly. Even Jose cracked a smile. 

"It seems you have an admirer, Merle." Sienna tried to suppress her laughter but came out in fits of giggles. She remembered clearly how poor Jason 'got to know' Abuelita Celeste the very first time he met the family. 

Layla joined in on the laughter and thought, great... another one she had to keep her eye on.

"Watch out, she sometimes bites." Gigi whispered adding to everyone's laughter.

Merle shook his head, same old Abuelita. God he missed his family.

Suddenly there was some commotion at the door. Rafaele and the girls from the Italian hair salon had arrived. Layla instantly recognized the lovely ladies that gave her the makeover; Abebi, Maria and Maddy. Rafaele had actually shut down his salon, stating Jason and Sienna's wedding should be treated like a holiday. Although Layla suspected Rafaele really just wanted to party.

Sienna walked in their direction to greet them. Layla excused herself and happily moved towards them as well. 

"Rafaele!"

"Amore! There you are. You are positively radiant." He said as kissed the back of her hand. "Your skin, that dress. You look good enough to eat." He naughtily whispered.

Layla chuckled and shook her head. Embarrassed at his words she waved him off. She soon found out by speaking to him regularly that Rafaele was the biggest flirt known to man. Even though he was gay as you can get; he still managed to make a grown woman blush. But he was harmless, a real sweetheart. Layla greeted the ladies warmly. They seemed in awe of the house and it's surroundings.

Layla was excited to see what Rafaele and Nicole had planned for bachelorette party. They were just waiting for the rest of the family to arrive. Layla was strictly hands off, as they kindly reminded her when she tried to help. They didn't want her to worry about a thing. At the bachelorette party, Layla would be a guest, a close friend of the bride and nothing more. A chance to let loose, Rafaele said.

"Everything ready for tonight?"

"Yes my dear, it's all set up. I can't wait until you see it! With all due respect, this party is bound to go down in history. You just wait and see. Would you mind helping us round up the ladies so everyone can get to hair and makeup while I go run something by Nicole?" 

"Sure, no problem." Layla along with Rafaele's girls went around the room and started gathering the women and led them to the spa area in the gym. That's where Rafaele set everything up for tonight and that would be most likely where most of them would get ready for the wedding. 

Before she left she saw Merle at the bar drinking some concoction. She walked towards him and tapped him on the shoulder.

"I'll see you later."

Merle turned towards her in his bar stool and gathered her to him. He held her close as his hands fell around her waist. 

"You sure you don't want me to dance for the ladies tonight?" 

Layla laughed. "Uh... no. But if you're a good boy, I might give you a private dance later." She whispered.

Merle's strong arms tightened around her. "Mm-mm. Hurry back then."

Little did she know there was no way he was going to let them go alone. Surely he wouldn't be missed at the bachelor party. All those women alone, probably intoxicated, was too much of an easy target. He would protect them without them knowing it. He'd just tell Jason when he saw him.

Layla leaned over and gave him a soft peck on the lips. When she was about to pull back he pulled her in for more; this time taking all the control. Cupping her face in his hands he dominated her sweet mouth. Nibbling on her bottom lip, he groaned deep in his throat. They broke away when they heard the guys whistling and hollering, encouraging them to continue. 

"Well damn! If Merle over there can get fine ass Layla to kiss him; I know I still have hope!" Billy hooted. Ana looked dreamily in his direction and slowly nodded in agreement.

Merle chuckled and shot them his middle finger. Quickly ignoring them, he went in for another delicious kiss.

_______

The changing room was set up with rows of garment racks with all sorts of costumes and props. From the looks of it, they looked like very naughty looking costumes indeed. By the mirrors there were white fluffy wigs like the ones parliament would wear and long feather boas were draped nearby. 

What the hell kind of party had Nicole and Rafaele planned? 

A big cheer erupted outside. Jason must have arrived. All the ladies she'd finally gotten to stay in the area; filed out of the room to say hello to him. 

Layla chuckled, oh well she tried. She was just going to go with the flow. The old her would've gone crazy with the lack of organization. Until now she hadn't realized just how much she'd changed. Nothing could ruin her mood tonight. She was on cloud nine.

Somewhere off in the distance, she heard the booming of infectious Spanish music get louder. She eyed a bottle of champagne placed in an ice bucket nearby. She poured herself a drink and shot it back quickly. She smiled. Let the party begin.

_____

The bachelorette party was in full swing and Layla had never seen anything like it. She doubted the men had it this good. Their plans included something with long range shooting, cigar smoking, drinking and probably strippers. Typical.

Layla was little late in getting there because she had to help some people last minute with their costumes. But they said to just go straight to the front entrance and they would let her in.

Security was tight and she had to not only give her name but also show her ID. When she was ID'd, she was quickly whisked inside. The armed guards looked intense as if they were guarding the president. Jason spared no expense in security. Layla thought it was a little over the top, but she guessed it made sense since they were in a foreign country and they were known to be very wealthy. 

Layla was awestruck as she walked inside to the main hall. Nicole and Rafaele really outdid themselves. She knew the extravagance had to be from Rafaele; he probably spent a small fortune on it. 

The theme was Moulin Rouge. All the women were already having a good time; they were all dressed in costume. There must have been over 100 people there. 

They all wore intricate lace corsets in deep darker colors like emerald green, royal blue, deep reds purples and black. They wore sexy black stockings and matching garter belts. Fluffy gray parliament wigs graced their heads. Extravagant makeup and ornate jewelry completed their look.

The hall was fairly large and the walls were painted black. The bass of the music heavily pounded the walls as the infamous DJ Kong ferociously spun the turntables. Big gaudy chandeliers hung from the ceilings. There was lush red carpeting and decorative chaise lounges at every turn. Yards and yards of fabric draped from the ceiling creating an eerie dream-like environment. Large red and black feathers littered the tables. The stage was set up like a theater with a deep red curtain and there was a throne looking chair off to the side. 

Layla laughed in shock and shook her head. This was awesome. She wondered what Sienna's reaction would be; she was really a low key person.

The "grapers" were hunky half naked men who wore tiny leather black shorts. They walked around with large plates of grapes and their sole function was to stop by the drooling patrons and feed them grapes one by one. It was obvious these women had never seen anything like this before. There were screams and giggles at every turn. 

Layla found Nicole and Rafaele by the stage. She had to admit they looked hot. 

Rafaele wore a black fitted tuxedo with an embroidered vest complete with a gold chain for his pocket watch. His top hat was tall and imposing and he even carried a cane. His stride was pure confidence and he oozed sex appeal. 

Nicole on the other hand wore a gorgeous gold corset with intricate embroidery. Her long legs seemed to go on for miles as she walked in her extremely high heals and her fishnet stockings just added to the sexy. The matching top hat was cropped to the side on her fluffy gray wig. Layla laughed, these two were too much.

Nicole and Rafaele excitedly waved when they saw her. She felt awkward because she didn't have a costume. They said she would get dressed at the location with Sienna. They walked her to the back and led her to a private suite where Sienna was getting ready. Sienna laughed and shook her head when she saw her. 

"Isn't it crazy?" Sienna asked in wonder. 

Layla chuckled. "It's amazing." 

"I promised I would go along with anything they did, but oh my God! I never knew they would do something like this." Sienna let out a laugh.

Rafaele walked up and said, "Yes, yes principesca we all know I'm a genius." He let out a sexy grin. "Now remember tonight is your night to let loose and have fun. Layla go get ready, we are waiting for you."

And with that Layla was quickly ushered along to get her hair and makeup done.

They got dressed and Layla realized her costume was a stunning embroidered corset in baby pink with feathers and a matching top hat. Layla had to admit she looked hot in this outfit. She wished Merle was there to see her. Maybe she would snap a picture just for him.

Nicole's cousins Ana and Isabella also wore light colored corsets. Ana's was yellow and Isabella's was light blue. It looked like anyone in the wedding party wore light colors and the rest of the guests wore dark colors. Layla was flattered. 

Sienna's costume was pure white. White corset and garters, white feathers, white stockings... everything was white. She looked a sinful angel. Her corset was specially made for her tiny baby bump. Her parliament wig had the same fluffy light gray hair but it was styled in an updo and tiny white top hat was set on an angle in her hair. 

She looked so beautiful. They all did. Their makeup and costumes, they looked like they should be in a magazine shoot. Layla was already having so much fun dressing up and letting loose, she only guessed what else the night would bring. 

As Layla stood in front of the large mirror, Rafaele walked up behind her and admired her costume. He placed his strong hands on her waist. Slowly he smoothed his hands up and down, lightly grazing the underside of her breasts. 

Layla immediately moved out of his uncomfortable grasp. She turned to him in confusion. That was not a friendly touch, it was something more. 

"What are you doing?"

"What? I'm just making sure your costume fits properly." He let out a mischievous grin. His eyes had darkened and there was something about the way he stared at Layla that unnerved her.

"Are you sure you're gay?"

Rafaele let out an exasperated sigh. "Oh amore! Gay, straight, Bi... you Americans must label everything, no? Why can't we just have a good time without all the labels?"

"I'm sorry... but whatever you are; I just see you as a friend. Nothing more."

"Fine amore. Whatever you say." Although his words said the right thing, the glint in his eye and his smirk said something else entirely.

Layla narrowed her eyes at him. Yep, it was time to go. 

"Good." Layla forced a smile and looked around the room for any of the other girl, but they had already filed out. Without a backward glance, she turned and walked out of the room and soon found the women making their way to dinning tables.

After enjoying a delicious Italian feast, the group was ushered onto the stage. Everyone greeted the queen and her maids. Rafaele grabbed the mic and made an embarrassed Sienna sit on the throne while Nicole, Layla, Ana and Isabella sat on chaise lounge chairs around the throne. 




Duplicity Ch. 11



There was a hunky 'graper' assigned to each of the ladies, ready to feed them grapes. All they had to do, was look them in the eye and suggestively open their mouths. Ana was having a ball, she looked she was about to jump the poor guy feeding her. By contrast the guy assigned to Isabella seemed overly eager to feed her. However with one icy glare from her and pursed lips; he backed off. 

The man assigned to Layla was tall, dark and handsome; his chest was finely cut ripped with muscles. His eyes were dark pools of night, devoid of any light or softness. It was odd because it didn't look like he belonged at all. Layla felt a little uncomfortable with him being so close to her and kept politely declining his grape offerings. Maybe it was the odd exchange with Rafaele but she wasn't feeling it. 

Soon Layla got distracted by the show. One by one Rafaele called the entertainment to the stage. It started of innocent, with a clown juggling red balls making everyone laugh. Rafaele made a raunchy joke about juggling balls. The entertainment quickly turned more and more daring. It ended up with a man breathing fire behind several men who were simultaneously stripping. The DJ's music thumped along while crowd went wild, screaming and whistling. The ladies got up from their seats and turned it into a dance floor. Some even got on the tables to dance.

From the stage, Layla saw Sharon and Gigi wearing more conservative costumes. They were hooting and hollering with the rest of them. Everyone was having a great time. One by one the muscled strippers gave Sienna a sexy lap dance while she laughed tried to hide her face in embarrassment. After a while Sienna lost her nerve, got up and started dancing with everyone. It was all in good fun.

Layla needed some fresh air and decided to sneak backstage for some water. She walked through a long darkened halfway looking for the room they changed in; there were plenty of refreshments there. After turning the corner, she kept walking. Was this corridor always this long? That room must be close somewhere.

Suddenly the hairs on the back of her neck rose as she felt someone was watching her. She turned to look behind her but kept walking when she saw there was no one there. 

Was her mind playing tricks on her or did she just hear faint footsteps? She quickly turned around but again saw no one. Nothing but the quiet black walls surrounded her. Maybe she was being paranoid, she kept walking. 

It happened again. 

Something wasn't right. There was a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She briskly walked to the closest room. Opened it and abruptly closed it behind her. It was dark inside, probably a closet of some sort. Her chest rose erratically with each bated breath.

"Don't scream." A deep voice whispered behind her.

Just seconds away from doing just that, but as she turned with widened eyes she realized who it was.

"Merle?! Jesus Christ!! You scared the living shit out of me!!" Layla hissed. Running off pure adrenaline, she felt her heart pounding out of her chest. With her hand over her chest, she doubled over and heaved trying to catch her breath. It was Merle all along.

"Calm down sweetheart. It's just me." He rubbed his hands down her back until her breathing went back to normal. His gaze hardened as he peeked out of the door without her noticing.

"You ok?" 

Layla nodded as she stood and let out a soft smile. She was so relieved to see him. Throwing her hands around his neck, she squeezed him into a hug. She was scared shitless.

"Hey, you're ok." He ran his hands on the side of her face. "There's nothing to be scared about."

"What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be with the guys at the bachelor party?"

"Jason wanted me to come by and make sure you guys were ok." Well, that was mostly true. Merle told Jason he was going to go check on the women and make sure they were ok and he agreed. 

"Why would he ask you to do that? Of course we're ok unless... you're really here to spy on us." Layla gave him a suspicious look.

"Maybe just spy on you..." His eyes traveled down her body slowly. "And what the fuck are you wearing?"

"A... costume?"

Merle let out a grunt. "And this is why I obviously needed to be here." His tone came out harsher than she was used to.

"Well I'm glad you were the one to come." She pulled him into a hug trying to soften him up. He seemed to be on edge.

"Yea?" He pulled her closer and buried his nose in the crook of her neck. He planted soft kisses there. Layla breathed a sigh of relief and felt herself relax completely.

"Why don't you go ahead back to the party? I'll meet up with you when this is finished." 

Layla wanted to protest but held her tongue. She wanted to tell him why she was all shaken up and at the bizarre exchange with Rafaele, but she held back. She remembered what he did to those men on their first date and at that time he didn't even break a sweat. 

Plus the fact that he already seemed tense. She didn't want her paranoia and perhaps a simple misunderstanding get Rafaele and that other guy beat up.

"Ok sounds good." She reluctantly said.

"I'll be around the corner checking some things out with the security team."

She felt so silly, she was just being paranoid. With one last smile she walked off to join the others back on stage. This time she found her way back right away. She snorted; she was obviously loosing her mind.

Just as she was about to go up the small steps she heard a familiar voice.

"Hello love." It was Henry. He quickly whisked her up into a bear hug.

"Henry! You're back? How did you know we were here?"

"I got back a little earlier than expected. And the people in the house told me about the bachelor and bachelorette parties tonight. They insisted I choose one to go to. And I thought this one sounded much more interesting." He whispered and let out a smile.

In turn Layla smiled warmly at him. It was nice to have him there. "Well go and get some food and we'll talk later."

"Alright love, you come and find me." He turned and walked away. 

Unfortunately Layla didn't see how his features hardened and his teeth clenched as he glanced into the darkened hallway.

___________

It was the wee hours of the morning and the Bane estate was practically empty. No one had arrived from the parties yet. And Abuelita Celeste roamed the halls looking for her Alejandro. 

Gigi left her with a sitter while she was at the bachelorette party. They set her up in a little lounge area next to her bedroom and played several of her favorite Spanish soap opera episodes. This would ensure she'd stay put and out of trouble. 

Unfortunately after a couple of hours, Mona the woman in charge of watching her fell asleep on the couch after a long day of work. It didn't help that Mona didn't understand a word of what the actors were saying in Spanish. And so when all the episodes finished, Celeste was excited and wide awake.

She was obsessed with this Spanish soap opera and truly believed she was the young heroine in search for her long lost love. In her long airy nightgown, she tip-toed quietly as to not be heard. Her thoughts were only of him and finally seeing her Alejandro. She called out his name, but got no answer.

She wandered to the 4th floor and looked in every room. As she searched, she was very quiet. Finally at the end of the hall she found a room that had to be his. She crept in but found no one there. She would surprise him and wait for him in his bed. She slipped off her gown and climbed under the sheets. She let out a toothy smile and her wrinkly face followed. 

Finally they would consummate their undying love for each other. 

___



Duplicity Ch. 12



Hello everyone,

Let me start off by saying I'm sooo sorry for the long wait. I can't believe it's been this long and really didn't mean to keep you guys hanging. I've been going through some stuff, but I'm happy to say I'm back and ready to continue this story. I hope you enjoy this chapter, so much more is revealed. As always please don't be shy and comment; I love to hear from you guys!

Merle paced from one side of the room to the other. He had been at it for a while now, calculating his next move. Tonight... it would happen tonight.

As he looked towards the bed, his gaze carelessly landed on the woman who consumed his thoughts. Dressed in nothing but an oversized t-shirt and a white cotton thong, Layla lay tangled between the sheets. One smooth shoulder exposed her tantalizing cinnamon skin. He didn't trust himself to lay in bed with her. It was just too tempting.

Last night after the bachelorette party they'd come home hand in hand. The drivers dropped them all off at the house and the ladies easily found their way to their rooms. The men arrived from the bachelor party not too long before the women and could only gawk at their costumes. 

Although Merle possessively grabbed Layla's hand as he walked, he was quiet and his expression remained neutral, detached. He didn't seem like himself at all. Layla hoped he hadn't seen or heard Rafaele do anything inappropriate. After the incident she avoided Rafaele and he seemed to have caught the drift. As she looked at Merle she wondered what was truly bothering him. Something was off.

Before she could ask him about it, they arrived at her bedroom door. She didn't like the far away look she saw. Impulsively she gave him a heart-stopping kiss and he responded as she hoped he would. 

Closing his eyes he let out a deep sigh as he relaxed himself on her lips, but still said nothing. Her delicately tapered hands gently tugged his collar towards her room and he went willingly. She didn't want to be alone tonight. 

To her surprise things didn't improve when they were alone. Layla tried to initiate inane conversation as she felt a bit nervous at the thought of being intimate with him again. But he didn't budge. He was quiet and reflective, not quite rude but cold. There was a deep crease in his forehead that bothered her.

She finally asked him what was wrong and he simply replied that he was tired. 

When they slipped into the bed together, Layla squeezed him a little tighter and closed her eyes. She thought it best to leave him to his thoughts rather than force the subject. On the expanse of his large chest, her soft head found the perfect spot right under his clavicle. She exhaled. She deeply believed that when he was ready to talk he would.

When she was asleep, Merle swiftly climbed out of bed and re-checked every corner of the room; the windows, the bathroom, under the bed, drawers and the closet. He did a thorough sweep just to be sure. Everything around him was quickly unraveling. If what he saw tonight was any indication; he was out of time. 

When he was finally satisfied that her room was clear, he sat in a nearby armchair. He positioned himself to face the most vulnerable spots; the windows and Layla. His fingers stretched and fingered his concealed weapon, making sure it was within reach locked and ready. With a straight back and stiff shoulders he looked like a sentinel... ready for action. 

Hours later Merle awoke while it was still pitch dark out. He hadn't even realized he'd drifted asleep. When he looked around and found she was gone, his heart stopped for a couple of beats. Panic set in. 

He ran up to the roof praying she just decided to go up for some fresh air. 

Carefully he searched the rooftop and saw nothing. Just as he about to leave he caught sight of her. On the ledge. She was teetering on the very edge of the roof as she carelessly looked over. What the fuck was she doing up there? 

The cliff was very steep and the loud crashing waves reminded them deep waters below. She looked back at him with tear-stained eyes as she mumbled something incoherent. As he got closer and closer to her, he asked what she was doing. Her face was covered in utter disappointment. 

It suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks. She found out the truth. 

The hurt in her eyes was almost too much to bear. Her feet slowly moved away from him. She kept shaking her head in disbelief. 

He yelled at her to stop fucking moving but she just shook her head. 

She slipped and screamed as she plummeted to the black pit.

No!!!

He ran towards her. 

It was too late. 

Without thinking twice about it, he plunged into the water after her. The freezing water shocked him and it felt like a million needles pierced him from all sides. When he surfaced he desperately yelled out for her. The waves splashed all around him.

Frantically he searched in every direction but there was no one there. 

The sea was just too big and deep. The water was as black as the night. He fought the strong current as he cursed the wind. The waves roared, but he swam against it. He didn't give up, he would find her. He swam and dove under again. When he came up again he was suddenly so far away from land he knew it would be hard to get back. The gravity of it all hit him suddenly.

He failed. 

Again. 

Layla was gone and it was all his fault. 

Suddenly he felt something tugging his leg from under the deep blue water. Hope sprang in his heart as he turned to dive under. 

Then he realized the black water surrounding him was actually thick crimson red water. His stomach turned as he thought of Layla. No. It couldn't be. 

Before he could react, he saw it. It was the very distinguishable fin of a shark. It was massive and looked like a great white. It circled him and taunted him until it smoothly submerged underwater. 

Merle was helpless and alone. Panic overtook him as he couldn't see anything but could only feel it slithering around his legs. As he kicked and thrashed the waves, he tried to stay afloat. 

Just as he was about to be pulled under, he locked eyes with the shark. Shock overwhelmed him when saw it was actually Layla. She looked like some demonic sea creature out for his blood. She bore her sharp teeth and gnashed at his leg. She bit into his body suit and tore it off. 

Suddenly Sean was naked and floating alone in the sea. He was alone. It was deathly quiet all around him. 

Without warning he felt a sharp numbing pain in his back leg and felt himself quickly being pulled under the crimson water one last time... 

He woke up gasping for air. Taking deep pulls of air as his chest rose erratically; he gripped the arms of the chair in confusion. 

Merle's slowed his breathing and calmed himself down. That was one fucked up dream. He wiped the sweat off of his forehead and accidentally wiped some makeup off. Momentarily he had forgotten he was in his Merle disguise. Anxiety crept in. He got up and did another thorough sweep of the room. He swallowed the deep sense foreboding he got from the nightmare.

Things we're getting beyond complicated and he just wanted this whole thing to be over. He thought he could just keep up with the lie until this whole thing blew over, but he couldn't take it any longer. 

Every time Layla gifted him with the most perfect smile, he felt himself lost and then found. It was as if he was sucked into a tornado and the only thing keeping him afloat was her. He was tethered to her every breath. 

Nevertheless he knew he was seconds away was capsizing and he could not continue the charade with her. Even if it meant loosing her. 

Every time he looked into her eyes, the guilt consumed him. He despised men who lied to the people they loved. 

And yet he'd become just that. 

A coward. 

Perhaps some things are inherited after all.

He was sick of his excuses. He could trust her, he knew he could. He just had to find the words. Enough was enough. 

Today. It would happen today. 

He wasn't ignorant to the fact that there was no way she'd be ok with his revelation, but she meant that much to him. 

As scary as that was, for the first time in his life he wasn't thinking with his selfish needs. He would make this right.

Then there was the other thing he had to deal with. Before he left the party last night, Sienna talked to him discreetly. As a heads up, she told him that their father, Frank and his young wife Latisha decided to fly in for the wedding after all. She wasn't expecting them to come but as a courtesy sent them an invitation anyway. 

To her surprise, he called her and let her know the time of their arrival the following day. 

Venting her frustration with her brother, Sienna confessed how messed up their father was. On a whim he decided to come. Who does that? He told her he wouldn't miss being the father of the bride for anything. The nerve of that man. 

Frank fully expected to walk her down the isle; Sienna scoffed as she related the story. 

Their father barely had any communication with his kids for years. A random call or text here and there on special occasions but nothing concrete. And he wanted to show up on her wedding day and lay claim to the role? She didn't think so. 

Sienna had long decided their mother Sharon would walk her down the isle. Her father Frank would just have to live with the disappointment... just like they all did with him. 

Listening to his sister, Merle just sighed and shook his head. Frank was coming. Great. Just fucking great.

Suddenly Merle looked up when he heard Layla stir in her sleep. He needed to go take a shower and get himself ready. Sienna and Jason would probably be arriving soon with Frank and Latisha.

He quietly walked towards the bed as to not disturb her. His fingers slowly caressed her taut stomach and traveled up until they reached her neck. He gave her a kiss there marking his spot.

"Where are you going?" She whispered groggily. Her body languidly stretched deeper into him.

Momentarily distracted by her body he answered, "I have to go take care of some things. You remember the beach where we ate lunch by the market that day?"

"Mm-hmm..."

"Meet me there tonight at 8. Ok? I have to talk to you about something. It's really important." He said seriously.

Layla nodded. Her half-lidded eyes gazed into his intently. It looked like they couldn't decide if they were full of desire or sleep.

Merle's lips twitched into a smile. "You're not going to forget when you wake up, are you?"

"I'll remember." She replied hoarsely. "I have to get up in a little bit and run some errands on that side of town anyway." With that she quickly fell back asleep.

Merle softly smiled. It didn't matter how chaotic his thoughts were, she always managed to make him feel better. 

Distracted with his thoughts he entered his room and didn't notice the odd-shaped lump under his bed covers.

Sean quickly got out of the body suit and removed all traces of Merle. A steamy shower later and he felt renewed. He wrapped a towel around his waist and turned in the mirror. Almost automatically he went through his shaving ritual and brushed his teeth. He reached under the cabinet and grabbed the pill bottle from its hiding spot and swallowed two small pink pills. 

As he finished drinking water, his crystal green eyes connected with the foggy mirror. He suddenly came to the horrifying realization.

Abuelita Celeste was sitting on his bed... completely naked and still half asleep. 

What the fuck what she doing there?!!

He shut his eyes at the image that would be forever ingrained in his memory. He waited for her to speak, but she didn't.

He realized she hadn't noticed him there yet. There was still hope. He had to be very quiet and not make any sudden movements. Abuelita Celeste might have been senile but she had perfect hearing. If he slowly moved back into the bathroom he might have a chance at not getting caught.

Abuelita stretched her arms towards the sky and let out a loud yawn. She coughed loudly and swallowed. Sean cringed. He looked to his left and slowly tried to slide out of sight. If he just moved a little to the left... just a little more. 

However the gods were cruel.

Suddenly her eyes connected with his in the mirror. Not knowing what her reaction would be, he froze. At first she seemed confused but not alarmed. If anything she looked like she had a bit of a smile forming. A sultry smile. She turned towards him and slowly started walking and her smile widened.

Oh no no no no, he chanted. Desperately he wanted to disappear. He tried to ignore the fact that an elderly naked woman was walking towards him without any inhibitions. Her intentions were very clear. It was too late to try and hide now and he couldn't let her go and talk about who she just saw.

Ok new plan. If she was delusional he could try to interact with her. Play along with her and then slip away unnoticed. The problem was that some mornings Abuelita woke up completely lucid and then lost a grip on reality as the day progressed. At the moment however, it seemed she woke up out of it. 

This was some fucked up shit but there was no time to dwell on it. He vaguely remembered the soap opera she was obsessed with. It was a never-ending tale. What was the male lead's name again?

"Alejandro?" Abuelita shyly asked.

That was it. Thinking quickly he answered, "¿Si mi amor? (Yes my love?)" He prayed to God she continued thinking he was Alejandro. He braced himself.

"Te he estado esperando, mi vida. (I've been waiting for you, life of mine.)"

"Aqui estoy. (Here I am.)" As he spoke he slowly moved towards her and looked around the room for something to cover her with.

"Te amo Alejandro. Y tengo algo que decirte... (I love you Alejandro. I have to tell you something...)." 

Despite himself he muffled a laugh. Undoubtedly she was going to ask him to make love to her or some shit like that.

At this point he grabbed a long bathrobe and approached her fully. He pulled her frail arms through the bathrobe and securely tied the belt around her. 

Happy to have finally put some clothes on her, Sean sighed. "Dime, mi amor. (Tell me, my love.)." 

She batted her eyes at him but held a serious expression.

"Estoy embarazada. (I'm pregnant.)"

Sean's eyes widened and his mouth dropped. His expression was almost comical as he stared into Abuelita's serious face. 

"Que? (What?)" Was the only thing Sean could utter. What the fuck kind of soap opera was Abuelita into?

Like a coy young girl she solemnly nodded her head confirming her words. Abuelita nervously wrung her hands as she tried to explain. 

All of a sudden she blinked several times and her expression shifted. Her eyes became laser focused and it was like a cloud had been lifted. 

Abuelita Celeste looked around the room in confusion; she looked down at her robe where she was obviously naked underneath. Then her gaze settled on Sean. Her eyes widened in terror but quickly turned into anger. She clenched her teeth.

Oh shit. Sean knew what was about to happen. A clear minded Celeste was a force to be reckoned with.

Suddenly her right hand wound back, sprung forward and connected with Sean's right cheek. She smacked him as hard as her little body could. Sean clenched his teeth as bright red pelts started to form on his cheek. 

After that she screamed. Loudly. She howled as if her life depended on it. 

Shit, shit shit. He wasn't expecting her to scream. A frantic Sean momentarily froze not knowing what to do.

"Shh... por favor no digas nada. (Please, don't say anything.)" Sean covered her mouth trying to quiet her.

"It's me, Abuelita. Sean. Remember? Your little Sean? You used to slip me ginger snap cookies under the dinner table when I was little. I would sneak back in when was supposed to have gone to bed." He whispered hurriedly. 

When Abuelita was lucid she understood English completely; she actually preferred it to Spanish.

She stared at him not wanting to believe it was true. She just shook her head until she stopped and cocked her head to the side. Her hand touched the side of his face examining him. Her hand grazed the freckle on his jaw line and the small scar on his forehead.

A soft smile made an appearance and warmed him from the inside. Tears ran down her cheek freely.

"I always knew you were alive." She hoarsely whispered. 

"I felt it in here." She said as she tapped her heart. Her accent was just as thick as he remembered but just as comforting.

He pulled her into a tight hug as she clung to his large frame. She was so short she barely reached his chest. Her white hair was cottony soft. As a child Sean imagined clouds must be made of the same thing.

"I have to go. No one can know I'm here Abuelita."

She quickly nodded showing complete trust in him without even asking for an explanation. Sean loved her for that. 

Sean hastily through on some sweats and a hoodie. He'd have to go through the window and come back when it was safe. He didn't have time for the Merle disguise as he wasn't sure if anyone heard Abuelita's scream. 

He went to her one last time and put his hands on her shoulders. He knew her moments of clarity were getting rarer and rarer.

"It's so good to see you." He kissed her forehead and let out a sad smile. 

Careless tears fell as she nodded in agreement. It was if she knew she could slip away at any moment. 

"Be careful, mi hijo. I love you." 

"I love you too." Sean said as he walked away. He was almost at the window and prepared to go through it.

Suddenly the door burst open and a frantic Gigi and Sharon stormed in. Together they looked like a vanguard ready for combat. 

They grabbed Abuelita into hugs and kisses and fussed over her. Then they bombarded her with questions not yet noticing there was someone else in the room. 

This morning was pure frenzy when they couldn't find her. As they searched the house someone said they thought they heard something coming from this room. They we're so relieved to find her safe and sound.

Abuelita silently looked at them lost and confused, she seemed to have slipped away again.

Sean just watched as he knew there was no way he'd make it out now. If he did rush out, they'd probably chase him and bring even more unwanted attention to himself. He sighed. There was no other way. It was time.

The women exclaimed and chattered loudly about how they almost had heart attacks when they couldn't find her and went through assessing her well-being. Gigi suddenly asked where the hell her clothes where and why was she dressed in a robe. Finally they looked around and noticed the strange tall muscular bald man in the room. They both let out a shriek. 

"Who are you? And why is she in a robe?" Gigi demanded. She didn't recognize him.

"I just came back to my room this morning and I found her without clothes on. So I covered her with the robe."

Gigi narrowed her eyes at him. He didn't exactly answer the question. It was then that she realized Sharon was staring at him intently. Completely silent and that was unusual. Sharon kept opening her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

"Who are you?" Gigi hadn't remembered seeing him before and was now interested to find out who this stranger was. There was something very familiar about him.

"I think you know who I am."

Her narrowed eyes softened. She observed his appearance; his eyes, his nose, his mouth, his voice.

"No, no. That's not possible." Gigi's voice was full of emotion as she shook her head in denial.

Sean approached his mother uncertain of her reaction. Sharon was trembling and crying.

"Hi mom." Sean whispered. When he touched her cheek she let out a hysterical cry. 




Duplicity Ch. 12



"Jesús Santisimo!" Gigi exclaimed. She quickly made the sign of the cross and rushed to pray on her knees in front Sean. Her eyes were tightly closed and with folded hands she was mumbled a prayer.

Sean looked at Gigi in shock, he wasn't expecting that. He reached down and grabbed Gigi up from the floor. He didn't realize Sharon had stopped crying abruptly. Her eyelids fluttered up and she fainted falling backwards. Sean caught her just in time and carried her protectively. He turned to place her on the bed.

"Put her down." A deep voice commanded.

Sean sighed in frustration knowing full well who it was. Fuck. This day was just getting better and better, wasn't it?

He slowly turned around and looked into Jose's eyes. Nicole walked closely behind him. Jose and Nicole's eyes widened instantly recognizing him. 

Sean placed his mother on the bed and grabbed Gigi from the floor. He pulled her into a hug.

"Gigi, snap out of it. Go help wake my mom, she passed out." At hearing her friend had passed out, Gigi quickly sprang into action. Sean rushed to the bathroom and found some smelling salts. 

Fully in automatic mode Sean seamlessly performed the task at hand. Once he decided the time for the truth was inevitable, he felt himself at ease. 

Interestingly Jose who came in with such bravado shrunk at the realization. Still not saying a word, he leaned on the wall as if he needed it to stand. He carefully stared at Sean not believing what he was seeing. Sean looked at him with a stern expression, not knowing what to say either.

When Sharon came to, she hugged Sean until he could barely breathe. When he pulled away everyone stared at him silently. There were so many questions; no one knew where to start.

Nicole approached Sean while he was still turned towards Sharon. She tapped his shoulder lightly. Then she quickly and painfully punched him square in the mouth. 

Sean let out a howl. "Fuck Nic!! What the fuck did you do that for?" 

"Where in the HELL have you been, Sean? We thought you were dead. We cried for you. We buried you."

Silence. 

Nicole looked around, quickly putting the pieces together. "Wait a minute. This is Merle's room. Are you fucking kidding me? Have you been pretending to be him this whole time? I should fucking strangle you." She fired question after question.

After nursing his swollen lip, Sean held his hands up in surrender. "Obviously there's a lot we have to talk about."

Jose continued to be silent while Gigi and the now revived Sharon sat on the bed in expectation. Nicole seethed as she crossed her arms and waited.

"We can explain." Sienna's voice rang from the door. Jason and her stepped through the door and securely closed it. They'd just arrived from picking up her father and wanted to talk to Merle. When they heard the voices coming from his room, they knew something had gone terribly wrong.

Sienna and Jason approached Sean. Jason patted Sean on the shoulder and then silently sat on the windowsill behind them. He let Sean and Sienna take the lead, he was just there as a support. It was time to talk. The family would have to hash this all out together.

Sienna noticed Sean's red cheek and now slightly swollen lip. She gave him a nervous chuckle and shrugged. They seemed to have taken it well. She gave him a tight hug and rubbed his bald head. Knowing what she was thinking, Sean chuckled. They were going to need all the luck they could get.

"How could you not tell me?" Nicole accused. Completely hurt by the fact that she had been left in the dark.

The room then erupted in questions and accusations. Everyone talked at the same time, they all wanted answers. 

"QUIET!!" Sienna yelled. "Everyone! Please, just shut the hell up. Sean has been through enough and this is not making it easier for him. We're going to tell you what happened and where Sean has been. But until he finishes talking, DO NOT interrupt him. Alright?" 

All eyes looked at her in surprise, but it seemed to do the trick. She just worried how Sean would react to the overload. Right now he was her first priority. 

She glanced at everyone and made sure they nodded in agreement. When she got to Jose, she found it odd he simply looked away not meeting her eyes.

After that Sean calmly told them his story. It was the same story he'd told Sienna when he first reunited with her. They all listened intently not wanting to interrupt. Finishing up he related how he wouldn't stop his journey until he cleared his name was. After that he would be able to come home. 

The room was silent with only soft cries and sniffles. Emotions were on high alert. So many questions still hung in the air, but they seemed to be so relieved to have him back. They joked as Nicole apologized for punching him. She cried on Sean's shoulder relieved to have finally him back. She never gave up hope on him. 

One by one they gave Sean hugs and kisses. Sean seemed ok, easily accepting his family's affection. Jose still had not approached him, but looked like he wanted to.

"This is all my fault." Jose said somberly. 

That was the first thing he'd said the whole time he'd been there. He had everyone's attention now. He blinked several times trying to not let the tears fall.

Sean sighed and rolled his eyes. Here it comes. Why the fuck not? He guessed it was confession time.

"I'm the reason Sean enlisted in the Army in the first place. If it wasn't for me, he would have never gone. If it wasn't for me, he would have never gone through what he went through."

Sean's eyes met his for the first time. Even though he would love to blame it all on this motherfucker, he couldn't. Sean was a grown ass man. He made his own decision. But if Jose wanted to get that shit off his chest then by all means.

"What are you talking about?" Sienna asked completely confused. 

"Sean enlisted because he found the truth... "

"Please Jose don't... Now is not the time." Sharon begged.

He looked at her and shook his head. "It's time Sharon. It's time." 

Jose struggled but got up and walked towards Sienna and Sean. He dragged his feet as if every word he uttered robbed him of more strength.

"Sean left so suddenly because found out who he's real father was."

Silence.

"What! What are you talking about?" Sienna looked at Sean and saw as his gaze remained neutral but he pursed his lips. Sienna shook her head in denial.

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry for you to have to have to find out this way." Sharon sucked in a breath after a sob escaped her lips. 

"Jose is Suzy and Sean's biological father." Sharon softly confessed.

"Jose and I dated for a long time before I married your father. After we married we briefly continued to see each other. I'm so sorry. So sorry. We all make mistakes, baby. After Sean was born, we vowed to never let it happened again. And it hasn't! We got the courage to tell Gigi and with a lot hard work and forgiveness, we were able to rebuild trust in each other. Gigi and I felt our friendship was too strong to let it be ruined by things we did when we were young. The past should stay in the past. We decided it was best to not tell you all until you were adults and out of the house."

There was a thick silence at the unexpected turn in events. Gigi and Sharon held hands in support of one another.

Sienna quickly thought back and realized that even though they all knew each other when they were young; their families didn't become close again until they were in elementary school. This was also right around the time Frank moved out of the house permanently. 

Sienna bitterly scoffed. "Is that why I look so different because I'm the only one of Frank's biological kids? How could you keep this from us?" She was so hurt. This was not how she expected Sean's reunion to go.

For the first time Sienna looked towards Nicole, she expected to see an angry surprised expression. Instead of that, Nicole bit the inside of her cheek and wrung her hands.

"You-you knew??!"

Nicole slowly nodded. "I found out by mistake when I was 15. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. I tried so many times but I just couldn't. I didn't know how."

"Well fuck me! This whole family is going to hell with its secrets." 

Sienna now turned her attention towards her brother. "And you? How could you not tell me?" 

All secrets and burdens she had to carry for him. And he couldn't tell the simple truth? Her stomach twisted and she felt herself get lightheaded. The room was suddenly too small. She felt alone and completely betrayed by the people closest to her.

"So I'm the only one that didn't know..." Sienna's voice cracked. "Even Suzy... that's why she always hated me so much because she knew I was the only one of Frank's kids." Sienna thought about the last time she saw her sister Suzy and the words she'd said. It was all too much. She exploded.

"You know what?" She poked Sean. "Fuck you baby brother. This is what you hadn't been able get off your chest?!! I knew it was something big, but this?" She shook her head in disgust.

"At least you've been though some shit... But you!" She stabbed her finger in the air towards Nicole, "FUCK you... Since we we're 15 you knew this shit? Really? You've hiding something this big from me for over 10 years?!!" 

"Let me explain." Nicole started.

"Now you wanna fucking talk? You know what? Go FUCK yourself, that's what you can go do." Sienna pinned her with a death stare, waiting for her to say something else. Nicole sighed and remained quiet. She knew there was no way they could talk when Sienna was like this.

"Ok young lady. That's enough with the f-word." Sharon warned.

Sienna looked at her like she had grown two heads. She didn't even care anymore, "And ya'll are fucking nuts. You're best friends with the wife of your ex-lover and father of your kids. Fucking crazy. You know what? I don't need this shit. I'm out." She stormed out of the room. 

As she stepped in the hallway Jason grabbed her arm. 

"Hey."

At first she struggled but he managed to pull her into him.

"Hey, it'll be ok." He whispered as he held her tight.

Finally Sienna let herself drown in him. She sobbed into his chest until she felt herself calm.

"Baby I'm sorry. I know you're hurting, but you have to push this shit aside for a minute and stay focused. We don't have a lot of time. Now that they know about Sean we have to bring them in on the plan. We have to tell them about Mikhail."

Sienna inhaled deeply and tried to swallow her anger and sadness. She nodded and wiped away the stray tears from her cheeks. They didn't have time.

Inside the room Jose cautiously approached Sean. 

"Get away from me man." Sean warned. He felt himself on edge. 

"Please Sean, peace. I've regretted that day every single day... It's haunted me. We've been given a second chance. I need to make this right with you. It killed me inside thinking you died in some God-forsaken place, hating me. I know we can move pass this."

Sean scoffed. "Fuck you... Unc." He taunted. 

Sean's legs stood firmly apart and his shoulders were relaxed. To those who knew him, knew he was in a prime position to strike. Jose backed off a bit realizing this was a very different Sean.

"Sean, you'll never know how sorry I am. I can't make up for not telling you the truth. And I can't make up for how you found out, but please... let's start over."

"Just keep pretending I died on that battlefield, because since that day you've been dead to me. Keep pretending and live your fucked up secret life, where your wife is best friends with your mistress and where you get to raise your bastard kids on the side."

The resounding slap from Jose large hand echoed in the room along with everyone's gasps. Jose's unrepentant eyes and hardened expression stared him down. 

Sean smirked. "Thanks. You evened me out." After Nicole's offering, both sides of his face stung.

"Fine. I'm dead to you? Fine. You wanna hit me. Fine. Go ahead. Get it out of your system. But I won't allow you to continue to disrespect my wife and your mother like this."

Silence.

Suddenly another slap resounded. This time it came from Abuelita towards Jose. 

Abuelita Celeste had come back reality and had been carefully hearing everything that transpired. She'd had enough. Abuelita grabbed her flip flop, the first thing she could find and started in on a surprised Jose. 

Jose couldn't do anything but take the abuse. The petite elderly woman charged the large man without fear. She continued to swat at his face with every word she said.

"You smack should be smack ashamed of smack yourself smack." 

She pointed her sandal at him. "How dare you ask for respect when haven't shown any in years!"

"Ok time out, time out. Everyone just calm down. We have to deal with this as a family." Sienna rushed into the room as she regained her voice of reason.

Sean groaned. "I can't deal with this shit Cece." 

Without another word he walked out ignoring everyone's protests.

When he was gone, there was a thick silence in the room. Everyone was hurt, angry and confused. They were grateful Sean was alive although they knew he was different.

Sienna tried to focus. This was the only time they would have to talk. Soon the other guests would wake up and this had to be said. She asked them to push everything aside for a minute because they had something very important to talk to them about. They needed their help, Sean needed their help. 

Then Sienna and Jason told them the truth about Sean and what happened in Afghanistan. They didn't go into all the gory details but they told them about his capture, hinted at the torture and told them about the plan. They told them about Mikhail and what they needed to do come their wedding day. 

They just couldn't believe what they were hearing. Sean had been through so much. They all pledged to do anything that was necessary to help Sean.

______

When Sean reached a secure location he gathered his thoughts. So now everyone knew. Now Sienna knew the truth about Jose. That had been the hardest part, not telling her. He thought back to when his life was forever changed.

He had just turned 18 and was on his way to Junior's barber shop about to get a shape up.

Following birthday tradition he'd have lunch with sister Sienna and then go out to the City to party all night long. They were excited to check out some new clubs. 

Who knows? Maybe if they got wasted enough, he'd hook up with his best friend Nicole. He had always been curious about her. Knowing them, they probably couldn't go through with it because it was too weird. On second thought, there was no way in hell that would happen. They were just way too close; it'd be like hooking up with his sister. Hell no.

It was early on a Friday and the usually packed barber shop was empty. The only ones there were Junior the owner and old man Tyrell who was always in somebody's business. 

Junior was really young to have his own shop. He was driven and made wise decisions. He slaved for the shop, day in and day out and so far his hard work had paid off. Old man Tyrell seemed to be a regular fixture there. He was Junior's great uncle on his father's side, so Junior had put up with his antics. 

When Junior finished him up, Sean paid and thanked him. Before leaving he went off to use his restroom. Junior warned him to be careful with all the boxes in the back. Sean walked off. Shortly after Jose came in for his haircut. 

Knowing Sean was in the back and having his long time suspicions, old man Tyrell got to work. Making believe he was innocently reading his newspaper, he peeked over and looked at Jose.

As Junior secured the cape around Jose, the old man suddenly said, "Jose I saw your son the other day. He's all grown up, isn't he?" 

Junior quickly locked eyes with the old man and clenched his teeth. He shot him a warning glance, but the old man ignored him. Everyone suspected it but never had the courage to ask. 

"You mean daughter? You're confused, old man; I don't have a son."

"Really? Well, I am old. What do I know?"

Silence.

They thought he would drop it at that, but he continued. "But you know... my memory is just as sharp as it was when I was a boy. If I remember correctly, when you were young; you and Sharon were inseparable. Now I see her youngest boy looks just like... you. As a matter of fact... Sharon's oldest looks like you too."

"That's enough old man. Mind your damn business." Junior's serious tone interrupted. He swore this old man loved to start trouble.

"No it's alright Johnny." Jose answered. 

Trying to tamper his temper he rashly said, "I have one daughter Nicole with my wife Gigi. That's the only one I care about. The other kids I have... let's just say I'm better at being their uncle than anything else. I'm not interested in having more kids, even if they do look like me."

The old man laughed in mischief. "You are full of shit. I see how you're always with them kids and especially that boy. They might as well call you daddy. And that momma of theirs is just Mm-hmm...That woman is still as fine as I remember; she might even be finer with the years. Yeah I'd be hanging around them spoiled kids too, if I could be around that fine woman."

"More time with them... more time with their mom. Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free."

The old man cackled, "I knew it, you old devil!" Seemingly satisfied with himself, he went back to his newspaper humming to an old tune.

Happy to finally get him off his back, Jose went on to explain to Marcus what haircut he wanted. When he didn't feel Marcus moving behind him, he turned his head to see him holding the clippers completely upset. When Jose was about to say he was just messing around to appease the old man; he saw movement coming from the back. 

To his horror there was Sean, listening to the whole thing. Sean's expression was a mixture between anger, disgust and sadness.

Sean stormed out of the shop and that was the last time he'd seen him... until now. By chance he passed an Army recruitment center as rushed down the street. At the time it seemed to be exactly what he needed. He didn't want to have to deal with any of it, so he enlisted and all too quickly he was on his way to new and interesting lands...

Sean paced back and forth gathering his thoughts by the shore line. His cheeks still stung but it was just as well. That was one hell of a reunion. He should have beaten Jose's ass, but deep down he knew he couldn't. 

The sun was setting and the beach still had crowds of people. He found a shady spot under a palm tree and sat on the sand. The gentle breeze soothed him. 

His thoughts were interrupted with the giggle of small children playing in the sand and the chatter of the adults sipping on drinks. The parents kept a watchful eye their kids as they splashed in the water. A father helped his son build a sand castle with precision. The walls were tall and strong and they even made a little makeshift bridge. The father and son duo were completely concentrated as if building a monument. The little boy beamed from his father's approval. 

Despite himself Sean felt himself softly smile. He thought of Layla and even though it went against all reason, Sean felt himself have a little faith. Ignoring the nightmare he'd had, he somehow knew everything would be alright. Tonight at 8... It would happen tonight. 



Duplicity Ch. 13



As the wedding guests awoke they slowly made their way into the kitchen. There they met Sienna's father Frank and his wife Latisha. Curious glances snuck a peak at the pair, but quickly left to enjoy their day. Nicole's cousins of course knew Frank well and wondered what kind of drama the day would unfold. 

Dressed in a tailored suit and tie, matching handkerchief and sunglasses; Frank looked like he didn't mind being overdressed. In fact he looked like he rather liked making a big entrance. 

Having his own construction company for many years Frank did very well for himself. He was clean cut and had a smooth dark brown complexion and a well-trimmed goatee. And at 6'2" he was lean and muscular. 

His wife Latisha was just a couple years older than Sienna. She was stunning to look at and she knew it. She had large sparking brown eyes with long lashes, glowing brown skin and a lean figure. 

She carried herself as if she was of old money, but her speech gave her away. She spoke with her hands making sure to flash her jewelry every chance she'd get. Seemingly friendly and approachable, she was eager to chat with anyone who would listen. However conversations with her would quickly steer towards her favorite subject... herself.

On the other hand, Frank grew quiet after observing his ex-wife and ex-best friend for a while. He seemed withdrawn as he stewed in his murky thoughts. 

Sharon nervously looked around the room. Not because she was uncomfortable with her ex-husband and his wife. She hadn't really paid them any mind. She worried about her kids. There was so much that plagued her mind. She still couldn't believe Sean was alive. Alive but in danger. And now he was gone... again. It would kill her if anything happened to him again.

If she would've just sat them all down years ago and told them the truth; things would be better. They might have not even been in this situation. But she truly believed she was doing the right thing all those years ago.

Frank observed Sharon. She seemed fidgety and uncomfortable. At first this made him happy because he thought he was the reason. Here he was looking pretty good and doing well for himself and had a gorgeous young wife on his arm. Without a doubt his ex-wife would be jealous or rather should be jealous. However when Sharon was nonchalant about seeing them, it surprised him.

Frank thought Sharon would gossip with Gigi and say some snide remark about him, but nothing. Nothing at all. 

In fact what was really surprising was that "megaphone Gigi", who usually could be heard a mile away; had been quiet and reserved all day. It was as if someone finally shot Gigi with the tranquilizer gun he'd wished for throughout the years. Even Jose was somewhat cordial and that never happened. Something was up, they were just too quiet. And it annoyed him. He despised not knowing things when it came to those three.

After dinner Jason and Sienna went out on an errand while the wedding guests socialized in the living room. Sienna hadn't spoken to her mom or anyone else for that matter and she welcomed any excuse to get out of the house. She needed to handle one thing at a time. Sean was first, the rest they would figure out later. Nicole made up some excuse as well and after dinner went straight to her room.

Frank and his wife idly made conversation with the others in a politician-like manner. This involved lots of fake laughter and sarcastic jabs. The alcohol loosened their tongues, especially Latisha's. While Frank was on a mission to find out what was up with the three stooges.

Slowly Latisha's voice got louder and louder and her jokes became a bit more inappropriate. With Frank off trying to investigate, she had been left to her own devices. Steadily she drank more and more until her words slurred. 

The groomsmen discretely laughed while she became more and more flirtatious with them. She even offered to give Carlos the best lap dance he'd ever had. At that they tried keep their composure because rumor had it that was where Frank met his wife... while she was working as an exotic dancer. 

When she tried to climb a table to give the boys a better view; Frank promptly told her it was time for bed. Yet she snatched her hand away and yelled that she wasn't tired. When her tantrum ended, she slipped out of her heels and promptly curled up on the nearest couch. She said she just needed little nap.

A humiliated Frank looked around and noticed all the pity-filled glances and found himself alone. Oh hell no. Pity was something he would not tolerate. It sparked something nasty in him. He knew whose fault all of this really was. His gaze zeroed in on Jose and stalked towards him like a heat-seeking missile.

"Jose." Frank spat.

"Frank." 

Frank couldn't conceal the deep hatred for the man he once considered his best friend. 

On the other hand Jose didn't want to deal with Frank right now. He was on edge from this morning's fallout. His face still stung from Abuelita and her damn good aim. But most of all he worried about Sean. He fucked up so bad, he had to fix it. And now this assole? He'd better get out if his way. All he needed was an excuse. 

The men sized each other up as if two tigers ready to pounce. Although Jose was definitely taller and packed more muscle, Frank held his own. He took care of his body and it showed. He wasn't intimidated by Jose's menacing stare. Jose had strength but Frank had speed in his favor.

"You gotta a lot of nerve Jose. What, are you gonna claim Sienna as your daughter too? You gonna try to walk her down the isle? I'm... her father. Not you."

"And where have been you Frank? You haven't been a goddamned father to that girl in years. Sienna is your flesh and blood and when have you ever given a fuck?"

Silence.

Frank was taken aback by his words. That stung deeper than he wanted to admit.

Jose deeply sighed. "You know what? I don't want to do this here Frank."

He was wiling to drop this whole thing. He knew where this would go and didn't want to disrespect Jason's home, but then Frank spoke again.

"You don't wanna do this here? Fuck you Jose. You didn't mind doing this when it came to my wife!"

Jose's eyes widdened in shock. He'd never said the words out loud before, especially not in front of family. Jose looked around and noticed everyone's attention was now on them. And it was exactly what Frank wanted all along.

Jose shook his head in disgust. "After all this time you're still a sad fuck. You know damn well it's not that simple, but if you wanna go there..."

Frank stepped right in Jose's face. "Hell yeah I'm fucking going there. You took me there."

"Frank please! Stop this." A soft voice chimed in from behind.

Rage bubbled up within Frank. "Sharon... I should have known, always defending him. You'll never change. So how does little situation work exactly? Do you switch off days with Gigi or do you just fuck him on the weekends like those sister-wives?"

A soft gasp echoed in the room.

A swift blow landed square on Frank's mouth. It was so quick even Frank was surprised. When he came to, he shook his head and slowly wiped the blood from his lip. His notrils flared and his clenched his teeth.

No one knew who landed the next blow, it was all a blur. They could not distinguish one from the other as arms and legs flew in the scuffle. 

Nicole's cousins rolled Latisha's sleeping body to the side and squeezed together on the couch as they watched the spectacle. They calmly chatted as if talking about the weather. Not one of them moved to stop it but instead started taking bets.

John, Carlos and Billy heard the commotion from the terrace and rushed in and started to try to break the men up. Just as they were going to jump in, the cousins stopped them. 

"Yo! You guys don't want to get in between that. The only thing you'll get is a black eye or maybe a broken rib. Leave them alone, they'll get tired and stop in a minute. This is how our family works shit out." Roberto calmly explained. 

Luis, Ana and Isabella nodded in agreement.

Ana continued, "Oh my gosh the last time they fought was years ago and we tried to break them up. They got so mad when we stopped them, they ate us alive and said we we're a bunch of little shits that had no right messing with grown folk's business. They have history; we always thought they fought about money or something." Ana's gaze landed on Sharon. "But I guess not... If you try to stop them they'll probably just get really mad at you. And believe me you don't want them mad at you. Together those two are scary as hell." 

John, Carlos and Billy still wore shocked expressions as they heard the grunts and muffled cries from the fighting men. They collectively cringed when they saw Frank take another blow to the face. They couldn't understand how they could all be so calm in the middle of all this. 

"Ya'll in? Fifty on the winner." Luis excitedly said.

The groomsmen continued to stare at the cousins. This was one weird ass family. 

Finally John shrugged his shoulders."What the hell..." He said as he pulled the money from his wallet. He might as well try to get in good graces with Nicole's dad.

Billy and Carlos watched as Gigi came up to Sharon and whispered something in her ear. Already fed up, Sharon scoffed in agreement and gestured for them to get out of there. They muttered something about them being a bunch of fools that were too old to act like idiots and they stomped towards the terrace bar.

Shortly after the cousins and now all of the groomsmen were hooting and hollering as they cheered for Jose.

Frank and Jose let out grunts as each tried to get in another hit. Jose quickly secured Frank in a headlock. Frank was breathing heavily as he struggled to get out of his hold. One of the groundskeepers came in from the outside and immediately approached the men to try to pry Jose off of Frank.

"Don't you dare get him off of me!" Frank ground out through clenched teeth still in the headlock. He narrowed his eyes at the innocent man until he backed away slowly.

"I don't need anyone's help."

Jose scoffed at that, sure he didn't... He'd probably be begging to let him go in a minute. Jose's mind slowly drifted to the last time he play wrestled with Sean when he was small. Jose would make Sean believe he had him in a tight hold. Then as Sean struggled, Jose would let him take him down and fall to the ground in surrender. Jose's mouth twitched into a smile as he let those heartfelt memories wash over him.

Unfortunately Jose didn't realize he let up his hold in that moment of distraction. Frank quickly maneuvered his way out of the tight hold, pulled Jose's legs from out of him and slammed him on the floor. Jose let out a curse. Frank wrapped his legs around Jose's neck and trapped his arms. He held him there in some kind of wrestling move.

Several cries of defeat echoed in the room. 

"I knew it! Oh shit! His signature move. Pay up bitches..." Luis said in a singsong voice. He jumped up in victory. "I told ya'll Uncle Jose was off his game today."

Everyone groaned and complained about this being some bullshit, but slowly passed their bills to Luis. They argued which one of the men had better chances. Although Jose's headlock was legendary, once Frank had him in his wrestling hold... they knew it was over. 

Luis was the only one to go against the grain and bet on Frank and he was so happy he did. He was even happier to rub it in everyone's faces. He joyfully laughed and smelled the bills and then fanned himself with it. 

Not that he needed the money; he was quite wealthy. He just loved to win. He'd always been very competitive. He was known for betting on any and everything. Even as a little kid he was usually the one to instigate the others to see who could drink the nastiest concoction the fastest or who could jump the highest or who could hold his breath under water the longest; and then bet on the winner; usually with candy or toys. 

As an adult he managed to turn this into a successful career as a professional poker player. Although this just masked his little gambling problem. He didn't see it as a one because he almost always won. Just like now, he managed to rake in everyone's money.

Luis now looked around at the angry faces and smiled. And as if he couldn't help being more annoying; he went one by one bopped everyone on the forehead with the thick wad of bills. He crouched down and even bopped the still sleeping Latisha on the head. However when he got to Isabella, her icy glare stopped him in his tracks. 

"Touch me with that shit and we'll all bet to see how fast I can stuff it down your throat..." 

Luis's hand stopped mid-air while his mouth hung slightly open. His breath slowly left him like a disinflated balloon.

He let out a nervous chuckle and pointed the wad of bills at her. "Not funny." The memory of what she last did to him was still fresh on his mind.

By this time Frank and Jose were finally tired. Frank could keep him locked for a long time and everything on Jose's body hurt. As if reading his mind, Frank narrowed his eyes at Jose and in response Jose rolled eyes and then nodded. Slowly Frank let up his hold of him and they both let out a sigh of relief. 

"Alright people, it looks like the shows over." Roberto announced. And with that they all, except the still sleeping Latisha, made their way to the terrace. Frank and Jose groaned in agony. They weren't as young as they used to be.

Frank's right cheek quickly swelled and turned shades of purple while Jose nursed his right side while he limped. Frank leaned on the wall after accepting an ice pack and towel from Eleni the housekeeper. After giving Jose his, Eleni cringed and shook her head at both of them and left them alone. With the wall as a support Frank and Jose slid to the floor.

After a moment of silence...

Frank took deep pulls of air and his heart beat erratically. "You took everything from me." He whispered bitterly. He was so tired, but still just as hurt as he'd been all those years ago.

Jose's narrowed eyes pinned him as the memories flashed before him. "You know damned well... You took everything from me first." He said through clenched teeth. 

Silence.

Frank's face hardened as he was still in denial, but slowly a stream full of memories flooded into him. He didn't want to admit it, but he shared a large part of the blame. It was his fault he lost his family, over and over again. His face softened and he furrowed his eyebrows. He'd been so busy carrying all that resentment all those years; he never stopped to think what he did.

Jose inhaled and deeply exhaled and winced from the throbbing ache in his ribs. He had to hand it to Frank; he was a still a formidable opponent.

Jose exhaled. "If I could change the past I would. Believe me... I would. But I can't. All we can do now is move on. It is possible. You have people that love you Frank... that want you in their lives. Your daughter needs you. Just be there for her."

Frank let out a grunt. He pursed his lips and shook his head. He really didn't think Sienna could possibly need someone like him. For so long he'd convince himself she'd been better off without him.

Jose observed him as he mulled it over. He knew him well and knew where his mind was going. Frank's long history of self sabotage had everything to do with the way he was raised. It was long and painful past, one that long ago Frank confided in Jose about.

"Shit, if you weren't such an asshole most of the time, we all might need you too. You just get so stuck on what people did to you that you don't look at the bigger picture. Once upon a time we were friends for a reason. We were like brothers man... we were brothers."

Frank silently reflected on his words.

Jose sighed and slowly got up and limped towards his room leaving Frank alone with his thoughts.

______

It was a couple minutes before 8 p.m. and Sean waited in a cabana bar not too far away from where he would meet Layla. 

Earlier he'd found a little shop and bought some tourist clothes to try to blend in with the crowds. He changed into a short sleeved shirt and lightweight pants topped with a fedora straw hat. He oozed sex appeal. The shirt hugged his strong arms and his tattoos peeked from underneath and made onlookers do a double take in curiosity. It was odd not being in disguise, he'd gotten used to being Merle. 

As he sipped his drink by the bar as he discretely surveyed the area. A couple of young flirty women tried to buy him drinks and engage him conversation, but he respectfully declined. 

One of the women, pretending to blame it on the alcohol, brazenly started unbuttoning her shirt to try and make him change his mind. 

She was a beautiful redhead who no doubt always got what she wanted. She was so confident she'd succeed; she didn't mind drawing attention to herself. However Sean looked right through her, completely ignoring her. She was so offended; she cursed him out saying he was obviously gay before promptly storming off and yanking her friends with her.

Sean rolled his eyes. The bartender observed him and was surprised he turned her down; she was a stunner.

"Another drink sir?"

"We'll see." He said and then promptly got up and walked towards the beach.

Layla arrived and walked barefoot on the soft warm sand. The sun was setting and the cool breeze gently caressed her brown skin. Her peach floral maxi dress flowed with the gentle wind. She stared into the sparkling sea absorbed in her thoughts. 

Sean cautiously approached her from behind. She was so beautiful; it as if God thought of her while making this small piece of paradise. Her delectable long neck looked soft and inviting. Sean took his fill as he observed her. 

This is how he wanted to remember her. Beautiful, happy and waiting for him.

Layla enjoyed the sea breeze as her thoughts were filled with only one man. She wondered what he possible had to tell her. As if sensing he was close by, she smiled. But before she turned to see him, two strong hands gently covered her eyes. 

Her smile widened and she felt herself relax into him. She leaned into his strong chest relishing his scent and embrace. It felt so good to be with him. He was perfect for her. The salty smell of sea and Merle made her happy. 

With his hands covering her eyes, it made her remember their first time together... with that damn blindfold. She cleared her throat as she felt herself grow hot. In her distraction she didn't realize his body felt different behind her. 

"What's so important that you had to drag me out all the way out here to tell me?" Layla coyly asked.

Sean kissed the back of her neck and ear. He took advantage as he knew everything would forever change after this moment. God she smelled so good. He didn't want this to end.

He whispered in her ear. "Close your eyes for a minute. There are some things I need to tell you." 

Layla let out a soft laugh, "Oh man of mystery, alright. What is it?"

Sean kissed the top of her head as if trying to preemptively heal her of what he was about to say. 

"You remember the first time we were here and I stole a kiss from you? Back then I knew you didn't like me and I didn't really like you either. But something drew me to you. I mean I tried... I tried to stay away from you because my life is... complicated. I tried to fight it, but I couldn't help it."

Silence.

"I'm in love with you Layla. I've known for a while now. You make me... forget my past, just by being you. I know I can tell you everything."

Layla smiled while warmth coursed through her. She loved him too, if there was anything she was sure of it was that. However before she could voice her mutual feelings he continued...




Duplicity Ch. 13



"But I should've just told you who I really was from the beginning. I should've just told you the truth."

At first Layla thought she hadn't heard him right. 

Suddenly the air was heavy and a terrible feeling hit the pit of her stomach. She stiffened in his arms as her heart pounded. What was he talking about? What did mean by that? He let his hands drop from covering her eyes. But Layla continued to tightly squeeze her eyes shut as if it would stop her from what she was about to hear. She braced herself.

"My name is really Sean Johnson. I'm not Jason's cousin, but I'm actually Sienna's brother. I've been on the run from the U.S. government for years; all because of a complicated... misunderstanding. To make sure they couldn't track me I've taken on different a disguise every place I've been. The Merle disguise was just another. Until a couple weeks ago Sienna thought I was dead as did my whole family. But now it's time for the truth."

At that Layla opened her eyes and slowly turned around. The knot forming in the base of her throat suddenly got bigger. When finally she faced the man who spoke, a sob escaped her. 

It wasn't Merle playing a horrible joke on her, but a strange man, who looked vaguely familiar. She squinted her eyes as she recognized him as the guy in the gym that morning. She slowly shook her head as denial overcame her.

"It's me."

Her eyes widened as she heard Merle's voice come out of the stranger.

"It's me."

...

Seconds felt like hours as she stood rooted in the same spot. 

"Sweetheart I'm so... I'm just so sorry. I never meant to hurt you."

Silence.

"I want to give you all of me. I want to tell you everything baby. You're the one."

Layla while still in shock closed her eyes shut again. This wasn't really happening. This wasn't really happening. This was just another one of those vivid dreams of hers. Yeah that's it.

When she opened her eyes, he was still there with a worried look on his face. As she stared at him she was barely breathing as she carefully tried to figure it all out in her head. 

She stared at his foreign face and body and furrowed her eyebrows. Same height but that was about it. The stranger was tanned and bald; Merle was white and almost bald. He looked younger too, closer in age with her. Everything was different, his nose, his eyebrows; although his mouth... looked the same. For some reason her gaze lingered there.

No. It couldn't be, could it? Although the stranger's eyes were a deep turquoise color, he searched through her with the same intensity as Merle always had. Lurking under the surface there was a whiff of familiarity about him. 

This is crazy. How could she not notice he was wearing disguise? It's not possible. 

And yet deep down Layla knew it was true. 

She knew Merle struggled to tell her something, but this? Everything... he told her was a lie. A stream of emotions tore through her. From denial and confusion to anger and humiliation; she felt it all. She remained silent as she felt her heart literally break. An intense stabbing in her chest grew and she hurt all over. 

She really thought Merle or whatever the hell his name is... She thought he was different. She must be the biggest fool in the world or at least have it stamped on her forehead. The things she told him, the moments they shared. Oh God! The things they did...

She felt herself short of breath and light headed. It hurt to breathe as her ribs ached. Her chest rose and fell with every labored lungful of air. 

Control... that is how things are fixed... control. Her eyes burned as they pooled with tears threatening to fall. 

Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth.

In through your-

"Please say something baby. Yell at me, slap and punch me, send me to hell, but please say something." Sean's crystaline eyes pleaded as he broke her concentration.

Sean stood helpless as he saw her demeanor change. He was loosing her. He wanted to pull her into him, but she wasn't ready for that. 

A solitary tear finally fell from her eye as her expression continued to harden. Finally she found a neutral expression and pushed everything she felt down into her familiar bottomless pit. 

She straightened her shoulders and back and cleared her throat. She should kick his ass... but that just wasn't her. Layla felt she was already a fool; she would not cause a spectacle of herself as well. She was a fucking professional. 

"I'm so sorry." Sean whispered.

"Mr. Johnson." Her voice sounded forced and raw. "The transgression really began when I crossed the professional line. If there isn't anything else, I'll-" 

Suddenly Sean grabbed Layla and crushed his lips to hers. He couldn't handle her talking like that. He couldn't handle seeing her turn back into a stranger. 

She tasted just as sweet as she did this morning, maybe even sweeter. He quickly dominated her mouth and body into submission. She struggled at first as she feebly tried and tried to push him away. But she unconsciously closed her eyes and mewled in approval when she felt his tongue twirling around hers... just the way she liked it. 

"No." Layla breathlessly commanded just before Sean kissed her again. God she tasted so good. He couldn't get enough of her. 

In that moment she forgot everything and a soft moan escaped her lips. His hands wrapped behind her neck and back as he pulled her closer to him. She let herself indulge in the moment and moved her mouth in perfect harmony with his. 

Although he was the source of the pain, at the moment he seemed to be the only one with the ability to alleviate it. She felt herself in a daze as he held her so perfectly. The soft sand on her feet and the crashing waves lulled her into a place she didn't want to leave. She didn't want go back to a place where Merle didn't exist and where she had been lied to.

As Sean caressed her neck, he swiftly secured the undetectable skin adhesive he'd been carrying in this pocket. He pulled back and he looked deep into her eyes then captured her lips once more.

Once satisfied he whispered. "I needed you to realize what your body already knows... that you belong to me." 

Sean glanced down at her hardened nipples and bit the corner of his lip. He knew he had her then. After all of this she was still his... even if it would take a while for her to realize it.

His words brought Layla back to her senses. "Let go of me!" She shoved him away making sure to keep her distance.

Sean raised his hands slowly. "Ok, ok."

Layla clenched her teeth and pinned him with murdeous eyes. She hated herself for giving in so easily. 

There was just something about him hard to resist. Something that was never determined by what he looked like. 

But there was no way in hell she'd let that happen again.

She stabbed her finger towards him. "Stay away from me."

Sean sighed. "Sweetheart, this is just our first fight. Everything will ok." 

Layla looked at him as if he'd grown two heads. "Our first fight?! Are you crazy? You lied to me! About everything."

"Yes... But I only did what I thought was best at the time. You'll see... after the wedding and we can go back to New York and start our lives together." 

Layla let out a something that sounded like a growl. She ran up and poked him in the chest.

"There is no us anymore." She hissed in his face. "Was this all some kind of sick joke? Did you get off on fucking with my head?"

Sean groaned and rolled his eyes to the sky. "You know that is some bullshit. What we have is real. I'm sorry I concealed who I was. But you gotta know that everything I ever told you was real. I've been more open and honest with you than with anyone. Ever."

Layla pinned him with a stare. Her chest rose and her heart beat erratically.

He looked deep into her eyes and whispered, "Now we can go round and round in circles, but you know and I know... that in the end you're going to end up with me." He let out a soft smile.

In response Layla shoved him as hard as she could in the chest, but was surprised when he didn't move an inch. She looked down and was momentarily distracted at the solid expanse of muscles under his shirt. The corners of his mouth twitched into a smile and flexed his pecs for her. 

Layla quickly looked up at him as she knew she'd been caught gawking. Shit. But she didn't care, she stubbornly continued.

"Don't talk to me. Don't look at me. I don't exist to you!"

Sean grinned. "You're planning my sister's wedding of course you exist and of course I'll have to talk to you."

Her eyes widened as she felt her blood boil. "I hate you." She huffed.

"You're so sexy when you're mad." 

Her balled her fists softly trembled in anger. 

"Ah!!" She shrieked. Turning on her heal she promptly stomped away leaving a whirlwind of sand behind.

When she was gone, Sean slowly trudged his way towards the cabana. There were just a few patrons left. 

The bartender set a fresh drink down just as Sean reached the bar and offered Sean a smile. Sean quickly threw it back, grateful for the soothing burn. 

"Lady problems sir?"

Sean wore a neutral expression as he slid the glass towards him.

While the bartender poured another drink, Sean said, "Tell your boss, I'll turn myself in on one condition."

The bartender looked completely surprised that he had been made so quickly but then remembered who he was talking to. He didn't mind cutting to the chase either.

"What's that?" 

Sean threw back the drink and said, "I go in willingly and give him what he wants, only after I see my sister get married. And no one gets hurt."

The bartender smugly smiled. "That's two conditions."

Sean cocked his head to the side while examining the man.

"Consider it a gesture of good faith."

The bartender's eyes hardened and as he slowly reached for weapon hidden under the ledge. But Sean offered him a smile as he cocked the gun under the table aimed straight the man's balls. The bartender's eyes widened.

Sean scoffed. "Don't ever leave your shit out like that. Always carry it on your person. Now tell your boss my conditions and we won't have any problems." 

Suddenly the bartender wasn't so smug anymore. He slowly nodded in agreement.

Sean rolled his eyes at the moron. And this is the guy they had taking lead? He gestured with his chin. "And tell those stupid fuckers over there to not try anything either."

They were scattered on the beach and on the shopping strip behind them. Sean knew it when first arrived, he knew he'd been surrounded.

The bartender grunted in admiration. "Stand down."

Immediately he saw the inconspicuous people busy themselves with whatever task they were pretending to be engaged in before Sean arrived. 

Sean tipped his head and quirked a smile before he left. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon."



Duplicity Ch. 14



Hello my lovlies, I hope this charter posts by Xmas. A reader write a cute comment that said that's all they wanted for Xmas was Sean and Layla together. Lol. Aww! So cute. So what did I do? I rolled up my sleeves and got work and churned this chapter out. That's just how much I love you guys. ;) Ok ok don't hate me for this chapter, just trust that there's a method to my madness. You've been warned. Let me know what you think! I can take it... I hope. *******

"Hello?"

"Yes... who's this?" The line went silent for a couple of seconds.

After hearing no response, a surprised warm raspy voice asked, "Layla honey, is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"What's wrong baby? Are you alright?"

Layla cleared her throat as her eyes stung. She had been debating for hours if she should call or not. She gripped the phone tightly as her emotions threatened to take over. She could barely breathe.

"Everything is fine. I just... I just wanted to hear your voice." She chocked out.

Carla tore the receiver from her ear and stared at it for a second. Was this really her daughter talking?

To say they didn't have the best of relationships was putting it lightly. Ever since her husband died, Layla somehow took on the role of parent while Carla wallowed in her misery with only the bottle as her companion.

The bottle quickly turned into drugs. Layla tried and tried for years to get her mother into recovery programs, but it was no use. Carla had set a clear path to self-destruction and she was angry. She was angry at anyone who tried to set her off course. And yet her young daughter in her naïveté tried. Through it all she had an unwavering conviction that her mother could and would recuperate.

Little Layla tried with all her might to bring her back from the brink of death. Unfortunately the more Layla tried... the more of Carla's wrath she felt. Layla was the one person with the power to help her change.

Every time Carla looked into Layla's eyes, she saw her loving husband's same eyes looking back at her... judging her. And Carla resented her for it.

She couldn't even be the kind of mother her child needed.

Time passed. And one fateful night when Carla had enough of carrying so much pain for so long... she tried to end it.

Days later while recovering in a hospital and while the massive amount of pills she'd taken drained from her body, she found herself alone. Completely alone and yet full of a different kind of pain. Regret.

Regret was the one thing that had a habit of sticking to a person, regardless of time and acts of repentance.

However Carla forged ahead and vowed to get better and finally live. Not just exist, but actually live... for the sake of her daughter, in honor of her husband and for herself.

Years passed. It was a struggle and by the time Carla got back on her feet and claimed sobriety; it was too late.

Layla had become cold and distance. She made sure the wall she'd built around herself was impenetrable. Her little girl was now a fierce and independent business woman who didn't need her for anything. Carla tried for years to get close to her, inviting her to her AA meetings to hear her speak or to at least share a meal with her, but she was always too busy. And although Layla was diligent in making sure her mother's needs were met, she never allowed herself to be the same around her.

Carla couldn't blame her. A kid has to protect themselves after being hurt so many times. She knew in her drunken stupor there was so much she didn't even remember doing. But she wanted to; she didn't want to hide her sins. She wanted to take steps in making things right.

And now, as Layla's voice slightly trembled on the other end of the line, Carla couldn't help but rejoice. Not in her daughter's distress but the fact that after all this time she was finally coming to her for comfort. The fortress Layla had taken so long to build around her... was finally coming down. Carla wondered what could've happen on this trip to bring about this change.

"Well you can hear my voice anytime baby... anytime. You wanna talk about what's bothering you?"

Layla let out a bitter laugh. "Not really."

"Ok well, we don't have to. Things are ok here. It's been raining a lot so I've been putting the plants out to enjoy the rainwater. Your Mr. Elvis over here is missing you."

Layla let out a soft smile.

"I swear this cat thinks he's a person. He stares at me all day and gives me the side-eye. As if I have something to do with the fact that you're not here..." Carla cackled. "He misses you baby. We miss you."

Layla bit the corner of her lip as her eyes glazed over. She closed her eyes and two small tears carelessly spilled on her cinnamon colored cheeks.

She didn't exactly know why she was struck with a sudden case of nostalgia. It had never happened before. Actually she did know why. This thing with Merle or rather Sean, really cut her deep. She felt lost. There was a deeply buried absolute truth and it was one she vowed never to admit. You could never replace your mom and she really couldn't do this alone.

"Umm... well the wedding is today but maybe I can leave a little early. I'm going to see if it's ok, but I'll book the next flight out."

A wide smile parted on Carla's face as her tears flowed freely. She finally let out a shaky breath and touched her racing heart as if she couldn't contain her excitement. "Oh honey. That's wonderful. We'll be here waiting for you when you get back, ok?"

"Ok mom... I'll see you soon." Layla sniffled and wipe the tears away.

Carla's smile continued to widen as she couldn't remember the last time she called her mom. She was sure her cheeks would hurt after this. She always had faith her baby would come back to her and it was actually happening. She looked to up to the sky and silently thanked God she lived to hear it.

"I love you baby."

Layla nodded as if she could see her over the phone. "Me too. I'll call you when I land."

There was so much they needed to talk about and Layla finally felt she was ready.

______

Two soft knocks echoed out on the wooden door. After a couple of minutes, a grumpy Nicole trudged to the door as she grumbled under her breath. Being a light sleeper meant she was up by the first knock. It was way too early for anyone to be awake, let alone be knocking on her freaking door. It better not be who she thought it was; if it was, she would murder him with her bare hands.

She swung the door open and was surprised to see Jason on the other side. Her expression quickly changed to one of worry.

Jason put up his hands. "She's fine... Everyone is fine. But your presence has been requested."

Nicole snorted and a soft smile graced her lips. It was about time she came to her senses. Without any hesitation she walked out of her room and followed him down the hall. She didn't seem to care she was in her pajama pants and tank top while a messy bun flopped on the top of her head. She silently followed him and it was then she realized he was fully dressed.

"Are you going somewhere?"

"I gotta go... finish some things up."

Nicole held a serious expression and nodded in understanding. It was happening. Everything was happening today.

Soon they arrived at Jason and Sienna's room. He motioned toward it, mumbled good luck and continued on his way. Nicole knocked on the door and when she heard Sienna's voice she went in.

"Hey." Sienna's sleepy eyes peered from under the covers.

"Hey."

An awkward silence waft the room. Neither one of them wanted to speak first. Nicole stood with her hands behind her back as she shifted from one foot to the other. They'd managed to avoid each other since that day. The day when both of their lives were forever changed. When Nicole found out Sean was in fact alive and in disguise this will whole time and when Sienna found out Jose was her brother and sister's biological father. There were a lot of raw emotions unleashed that day. Everyone hurt.

It was time to clear the air, they were both miserable.

"What was that? Come closer I can't hear you." Sienna whispered.

Nicole smirked because she hadn't said anything. She looked at Sienna for a minute then broke out into a wide smile. Suddenly she pounced on the bed. Sienna couldn't help but giggle as Nicole continued to jump on the bed as she did when they were little.

"Ok ok... You're making me dizzy." Sienna said.

Nicole smiled and crouched down. She shuffled to the top of the bed and quickly got under the covers as well. Both sets of hands folded over the top of the duvet.

"Friends again?"

Sienna exhaled and rolled her eyes. "Do you have to ask? You'll always be my friend Nic. You're my sister..."

After a moment of silence she added under her breath. "Well I guess not technically like everybody else."

Nicole regarded her with a raised eyebrow. Sienna obviously needed to get it off of her chest.

"I mean I'm not gonna to lie, I was mad and hurt as hell that day. But after thinking about it, you probably had your reasons for not telling me. Just like I had my reasons for not telling you about Sean. I shouldn't of lashed out like that. I was just frustrated that I didn't know and everyone else did. We've always told each other everything. I mean I could've been there for you when you found out. It couldn't have been easy knowing all that shit about your dad."

Nicole inhaled and exhaled deeply, then shrugged. "It is what it is."

"Hmm. You wanna talk about it?"

"I've never wanted to. I just don't think about. It never really changed anything. You guys were always like family. So when I found out, it was just like, ok well they really are family. However I wasn't thrilled to know that you weren't blood related but the skank Suzy was. I always hoped she got the crazy from the other side of the family."

Sienna chuckled and playfully shoved her. After thinking about it she pondered, "Man, you were just 15 years old! How did you find out by the way?"

"I accidentally overheard Sharon and my mom whispering one day. Your mom was folding clothes and remarked how quickly Sean was growing. She said she couldn't keep buying him new clothes and that she'd already blown through the money Jose had given her that month for the kids. Then my mom told Sharon to brace herself because Sean would probably grow up to be as tall as his father because all the men in Jose's family were will over 6 feet tall."

Sienna groaned. "Ugh! It sucks you found out that way."

"That was like the worst and best day of my life. I remember thinking, Yes! I'm not an only child anymore. That was all I ever wanted. But then it hit me like a ton of bricks... our parents had been lying to us all that time. I wanted to yell and tell them off, but in the end I just kept it all in."

"If I remember correctly that's the summer when you went buck wild..."

Nicole's lip turned into to a grin. "I thought I was a little badass."

Sienna let out a laugh. "You were a badass! You got your first tattoo... that crooked ass butterfly on your lower back. You lost your virginity, smoked, drunk alcohol... You did it all in a matter of a month or two. I thought my best friend had lost her mind. I was always too scared to do anything bad but nothing scared me more than seeing you unravel like that. Thank God you quickly got out of that phase."

"Shiiiit... As if I had a choice. I was forced to get out of that phase. My dad might've had his faults and made his mistakes but..." She shrugged her shoulders. "He was still my dad. I realized what was done was done. I guess I just wanted some attention, acting out and shit. But pop didn't play. No sir. When he got sick and tired of me, he made plans to send to my ass to the Dominican Republic for good. I got my senses back and quick! I was like ooh hell no... Over there if you act out, everyone and their momma will take turns whooping your ass. No thank you. I'd take my chances here where a motherfucker still has a chance."

Their uncontrollable laughs made any bit of resentment or hurt they felt disappear.

When the laughter subsided, Sienna turned her head towards her. "I missed you, Nic."

"I missed you too. I'm sorry I never told you. I think I just wanted things to stay the same."

"I know."

Nicole smiled. It felt so good to finally get all of that out and in the open. Now for the more pressing matters. "Have you talked to Sean?"

Silence.

Somehow the Sean situation was harder for Sienna to talk about. She was scared. They both were.

Sienna pursed her lips and shook her head. "Not since that day. But I know he'll be there today. He wouldn't just up and leave us again, right? Or try to handle this on own... Right? No of course not." She sounded as if she were trying to convince herself.

Nicole sympathetically patted her head. "Of course he'll be there." She said as she tried to reassure her. "Listen, everything will be ok. Just like Jason and you explained everything is being handled, we all know what to do. Just have faith it will all work out."

Sienna sniffled and wiped her suddenly watery eyes. "I have faith."

"Good. Now get up..." She said as she bounced on her knees and she shook her simultaneously.

"You're getting married today!" Nicole screamed.

Sienna chuckled, "Not before you go brush your teeth, stinky." She swatted a pillow at her head which made Nicole almost fall off the edge.

________________________

Although she was still a little shaky, Layla managed to be in her zone.

With military precision tasks were delegated and completed. Everything was on schedule. Nothing was out of place. There would no complications. Most of the workers skirted around her because they sensed something was wrong. She mostly kept to herself and didn't say much.

It was the midmorning and the house was bustling with activity. The flowers and linens were set, the hors d'oeuvres were being placed on serving trays, the bottles of wine and champagne were being chilled and the uniformed waiters were ready with big sliver platters on hand.

Everything was as it should be. The house was a vision of draped soft whites with touches of blues and purples. The women were finishing up getting ready with hair and makeup while the men were off getting ready as well.

A surprisingly subdued Raphaele and the girls made their finishing touches and left to finish getting dressed. Sienna decided to do an intricate updo for her hairstyle with a small pearled hairclip finishing the look. Her makeup was of expressive eyes and her skin had soft glow to it. She was every bit of what a blushing bride should be.

While in the room Sienna noticed how different Layla was for the first time that day. With the running around she hadn't been able to talk to her in a while. Sienna noticed Layla no longer had that glow about her. The small smile that always threatened to form on her lips as if she knew a secret she wasn't willing to share... had disappeared.

Layla and Sienna were finally alone in the dressing room. Layla was busing herself flitting from side of the room to the other when Sienna called her over. She titled her head as she analyzed at her. She patted the seat and Layla slid next to her.

"I wanted to thank you for all the hard work you put in. Everything looks so beautiful and it's all because of you."

Sienna handed her a small box. Layla smiled and was truly touched from the thoughtful gesture. It was definitely not customary for the bride to give the planner a gift on her wedding day. She opened and found a gorgeous necklace with a turquoise pendant. Layla was speechless.

Sienna picked up the necklace and placed it around Layla as she spoke. "When I first met you, you were this no nonsense, take no prisoners kind of girl. But I'm so happy to have found a friend in you. You really are a special lady that deserves to be happy."

Layla had been in the zone up until this moment. She had been unstoppable, unshakable cruising through her tasks until Sienna spoke. Her semblance threatened to crack and her eyes held unshed tears.

"You ok?"

Layla slowly nodded. Sienna bumped her shoulder with hers as if that would make more words fall out of her.

"Talk to me."

"It's just... I don't know what to say. You've been so great to me and I want to thank you for that."

Sienna smiled and noticed Layla's smile didn't reach up as high as it normally would.

"Why does that sound like a goodbye?"

Layla cleared her throat. "Umm... I know this is highly unusual, but do you think I could leave early? I've made sure everything runs like clockwork. I just think it's time... for me to go back home."

Sienna was taken aback for a moment. "Of course, anything you need. Everything is set and we couldn't thank you enough for making it happen." Maybe it was for the best, Sienna thought.

Layla sighed in relief. "Thank you. There's a ferry that leaves in a couple of hours that I think I can make."

After a moment of silence Sienna spoke. "He told you, didn't he?"

Layla now looked in her eyes and slowly nodded.

"He loves you, you know."

Layla shook her head. "It's just crazy. All of it. I can't believe he was in disguise this whole time. I feel like a fool. He could've told me and not lied to my face the whole time."

"I understand. Completely. But not all things are how they seem. Believe me... Sometimes we do things we think are best at the time and don't think of the consequences. Not everything is black and white." She shrugged her shoulders. "Sometimes you have a little faith in the people you love. Just don't give up on him completely, that's all I'm asking you."

Layla inhaled and exhaled. "I-I-I just can't. I can't be with someone who could lie and deceive so easily. I promised myself I would never let myself to go through that again. There's just no way."

Sienna winced at her words but pat her hand in understanding.

"Thank you for the gift Sienna." Layla smiled as she tried to seem upbeat. "I'll cherish it always. Maybe when you get back to New York we can meet up for lunch or something."

Sienna smiled. "You better! Don't think you can rid of us that easy. Because you know Nicole and I will hunt you down!"

Layla chucked. "I'm sure you will." She inhaled and exhaled. "Ok let's get you dressed!" She jumped up towards the hanging dress and brought it to her.

Sienna slowly stepped into her gown and Layla carefully zipped her up.

"Gorgeous." Layla softly said as she beamed at her.

They walked from the bedroom to adjacent living room where the length sized mirror was.

"You're the most beautiful bride I've ever seen." A deep voice remarked.

A surprised Sienna and Layla turned to see Sean dressed in a crisp white shirt, black tuxedo and skinny tie. He looked sexy as hell.

Sienna smiled and felt herself calm. The plan was still on. "You don't look so bad yourself baby bro." She laughed as she gave him a tight hug. She groaned. She was so relieved to see him she didn't want to let him go. Suddenly she remembered Layla was in the room.

Sienna put her hands on the sides of her mouth and whispered loudly, "Don't be an idiot!" Then she promptly glared at him.

"Sometimes I can't help it." Sean replied but kept his gaze directly on Layla. He looked her and drunk her in. She wore a simple eggplant purple gown with laced capped sleeves; it hugged her in all the right places but was still comfortable enough for her to move around in.

"Well I'm going to go check on... something." Sienna rushed towards the door but stopped next to Layla and gave her hug as well.

"Be safe. I'll talk to you soon." Then she swiftly left the room leaving them alone.

Layla stood rooted in the spot not remembering how to move her legs.

"How have you been?" He nervously asked.

"Fine."




Duplicity Ch. 14



"Good good..."

Layla openly stared at him in wonder. She had seen him before, but each time it didn't seem as if it were real. Sean's tailored suit hugged his strong arms while his strong legs moved underneath his slacks.

Layla's eyes moved up his body towards his face and as if she couldn't help it she stared into his eyes. Those seafoam green eyes were mesmerizing. They followed her every move. She felt flushed as her skin tingled. She hated of her body for betraying her so easily.

There was a glint in his eye as he caught her staring at him. Layla cleared her throat and he smiled at her and licked his lips. Layla regarded him for a minute longer and although he still had an intoxicating effect on her; she was just too hurt. She was numb. The thick silence made it hard to breathe.

Layla shook her head.

"What?"

"Nothing... nothing at all."

Sean caught the double meaning behind her words. He sensed her detachment and didn't know what to say. He could deal with her anger but he didn't know what to do with her being hurt. He didn't know what to say to fix it. They were just under an hour away from them being separated for a long time and the words were stuck in his throat. He had to something.

Layla slowly unglued her legs from their rooted spot and turned to leave. "I have to go."

"Sweetheart..." She stopped at the sound but didn't turn around.

Sean walked up and smoothly grabbed her hand. Without giving her a moment to protest, he pulled her to him with a twirl. Layla gasped. He held her tight as he swayed her body to a soundless slow dance. She had to choice but to sway with him.

No words were exchanged. None were needed.

He gazed into her eyes as if it were his favorite pastime, memorizing every curve to her face. His strong hands deftly moved up and down her back as if playing her like a cello. His mouth hovered on her neck and breathed her in. She smelled so good, he wanted to taste her, but restrained himself. In response her heart beat erratically and heat brewed from her nether regions.

His breathing slowed. "No matter what happens today, always remember I love you and I'll always be there to protect you."

Layla took a small intake of air and pushed down the sudden chill she got in her spine from his words. She had to go. She shouldn't have allowed this to happen. And yet something told her not to leave. With great effort she mustered up the strength and walked out of the room.

__________

A small army assembled at the base of the long driveway. The Bane estate was full of happy guests who laughed and mingled. They drank champagne, munched on finger foods and snapped pictures on themselves. Those who noticed the armed men didn't pay them mind, they thought it was for increased security.

Mikhail Popov was not a man liked to wait. He didn't care there was a wedding going on. He didn't give two fucks. However in this case, he had to bide his time. For years he'd searched for Sean and he was finally in his grasp. He trudged up towards the wedding guests, dressed in a suit and tie to try and blend in. He lingered by the door. The place was surrounded. There was no way Sean could escape this time.

Mikhail sat amongst the rows of chairs prepared for the ceremony. He positioned himself towards the back where they could be a clean exit. They had to take every precaution with him. Sean was lethal and unpredictable. No doubt Sean thought he had the upper hand somehow. But he didn't. This was it.

The guests were assembled. Everyone in their seats, but as the minutes passed they seemed to get more impatient as there seemed to be slight delay. They waited in the seats for the wedding procession to begin, but there was no one there yet. Something was happening.

Mikhail checked his watch after 20 minutes. He was not a patient man. He would not wait any longer. He stomped off as rage consumed him. A voice chimed in his ear saying they had they were ready on their end. He sent notice to his whole team to apprehend Sean wherever he was. Time was up.

The small army swarmed the house looking under table and checking every room. One by one they infiltrated the house. Military grade rifles parted their paths as they swiftly moved through the rooms. They were unfazed by the sudden cries of the distraught guests. They ignored them as if they weren't even there; they had one target, one mission.

Sean didn't take long to find. Surprisingly he was lounging by the terrace alone. He stood there looking off into the distant waters as he nursed a drink. When he turned around, he almost laughed when he saw Mikhail and his men charge towards him.

"Well look who it is... Nice to you see you Mikhail." The name dripped off with sarcasm.

"Well you got me. A deal is a deal. But I'm pretty sure you're a bit early, seeing as my sister hasn't gotten married yet." Sean smiled and took another sip of his drink. "Were you that excited to me big boy?"

Mikhail narrowed his eyes at him, was he drunk? His nostrils flared in anger. He didn't have time for this shit. "I've tried to be patient. I really have."

Suddenly three strong men grabbed a hold of Sean and tackled him to the ground. And although Sean struggled with all his strength, they managed to hold him still. Mikhail took out a large syringe from his jacket and removed the plastic cover. He smiled as he saw Sean's eyes widen.

"Marvelous drug... isn't it? It's no wonder we named it Glory because with it that's what you'll reach. You remember don't you Sean?" He tutted disapprovingly. "Terribly addicting. But you're the one that got away, aren't you Sean? How long did it take you to get it out of your system? Months? Years?"

Sean clenched his teeth as the memories of his time as a prisoner surfaced. Mikhail laughed. "Stupid kid... You'll always be nothing more than a stupid kid. You did all that for nothing. Now you're going right back to where you started."

Sean tried yell and squirm away from the monster, but couldn't. Mikhail stuck his thigh with the syringe and pushed all the liquid content in. Sean immediately fell limp and passed out. The men immediately tied his hands.

"Noooo!" Sienna cried out. She ran out towards them with Jason following close behind.

"You promised me after the wedding. You promised us." She shoved Mikhail with all her might.

Cool calm and collected Mikhail shrugged her off as if she were nothing but a mere nuisance. "Yes well things change. Thanks for all help... Congratulations on the wedding." He wiggled his fingers at her, let out a devilish smile and continued on his way.

With that they dragged the unconscious Sean away and promptly stuffed him into the waiting car. The droves of armed men followed behind as to discourage any change in plans. Sienna fell to her knees crying hysterically while Jason tightly held her.



Duplicity Ch. 15



Hey guys,

So sorry for the long wait after a cliffhanger. I hope you like this chapter; it was soo hard to write. But it's FINALLY gonna answer the all of those tingling questions from the beginning. It looks like there will be 2 or 3 more chapters for this story. Thank you guys for hanging in there for me! Don't forget to comment and vote!

Sean's head bobbed as the car drove down the narrow road.

They were in a limo in the middle of a caravan of sleek black SUVs, navigating the old streets Santorini. Since there was a high profile wedding today, it wouldn't be too out of the ordinary to see it drive by surrounded by security. Sean slowly opened his eyes and quietly cut himself free from the zip ties with the small inconspicuous knife he carried by his belt loop. 

For a moment Sean stared at the man sitting across from him. The man he hated with every fiber of his being. He seemed distracted as he carelessly looked out of the window. To onlookers he seemed like an average middle aged man. He was tall, slim build and nondescript features with salt and pepper hair, but his blue eyes were cold. Colder than any freezing temperatures in Oymyakon. 

Sean felt his breath deepen as old memories threatened to surface. There was always a darkness brewing in the pit of his belly. One that he's tried to suppress, but couldn't completely rid himself of. Especially now. He'd never been this close to him before. After all of these years, he was finally sitting just a couple feet away. 

Sean could end him right here, right now. 

Sean could make him pay for everything he's done. 

A slow and painful death. That's what he deserves. 

Sean inhaled deeply willing the darkness from within to dissipate. It isn't the time or place. He had to play this right or it would've all been for nothing. Carefully he masked his rage and played it cool. 

"So where exactly are you taking me?" Sean started. 

Mikhail's head snapped in his direction. He narrowed his eyes but replied, "You'll soon find out. I have something special prepared for strays like you..." 

He maintained eye contact while the older man analyzed him carefully. There were no signs of fatigue or drowsiness. Sean looked alert. Too alert. 

"How is it that you're awake? Glory should've knocked you unconscious for at least 6 hours." 

"You sure you gave me the right dosage?" 

Mikhail's eyes darkened. "Think carefully about the next thing you will say. I'm only going to ask it once. How?" 

"How am I awake?" Sean repeated the question to himself. He pondered telling him the truth or fucking around with him some more. When he saw the older man's anger rising, he relented. 

"I prefer to stay in control of my senses. I knew you'd try to drug me so I came prepared. I found a little loophole to your super drug." 

That information took Mikhail by surprise. To his knowledge nothing like that existed. His thoughts ran wild at the implications of something like this. 

Sean smirked. "Don't work yourself up too much. It's bad for your heart. Here I'll show you." He stretched his now untied hands and reached into his back pocket. 

"It wasn't easy. I had to travel to basically the ends of the earth to find a counteragent. But I found it in Bali. There's this little herb called Obatnya, translates as "The Cure". People use it for stamina and fertility... Does wonders for this skin. Anyway as it turns out, it works to not only stop the effects of your wonder-drug Glory, but detoxes it out of your system within 24 hours. Imagine that... After all the trouble you went through to get us all addicted." 

Sean tossed him the prescription bottle. "I found a company that took this very special herb and made it into convenient-to-swallow tablets." 

Mikhail cautiously opened the bottle, peaked inside and saw that there was indeed a multitude of small pink pills. He swiftly chucked the bottle out of the window. 

Sean laughed then confessed, "I hate taking pills too." He groaned as if this whole thing was a mere nuisance. "But I've been good. I've been taking that shit every day, all day; just in case you tried to shoot me up again. Even though they give me the worst headaches. I've been taking those pills and I even..." 

He pulled out his trusty silver flask from his tux jacket and took a long swig. "I even have this tea liquid form always on me." 

He pursed his lips and looked at the flask. "It's not that bad. I add a little honey and lemon. I know people think its alcohol in here because I'm known to like my vodka. I guess I'm a vain to put it in a flask, huh?" He shrugged his shoulders. "Can't have people think I'm a pussy... drinking tea and shit. But it actually helps calm my nerves." 

Although the man masked his expression with a neutral gaze, deep down he was surprised. And nothing surprised him. He always expected the unexpected, ten steps ahead of everyone. So this information threw him for a loop. If this cure was discovered it would definitely put a dent in his plans. He couldn't have that. He needed to remind this little piss-ant who was in control. 

Mikhail scoffed. "This doesn't change a thing. You'll give me what I want. I can be very convincing. I did an excellent job last time, don't you think?" He let out an wicked grin. "If put in the right mood, I could easily destroy you... just for fun." 

Sean didn't want to admit it but his silky voice sent a chill right through him. 

He tried to ignore the man's threat and regarded him for a minute as the car continued to drive smoothly. His left temple throbbed and the carefully hidden darkness in the pit of his stomach threatened to peek again. 

After a long stretch of silence. 

"I gotta admit this whole charade you had going on was quite impressive." Sean remarked. 

The man grabbed a decanter filled with what Sean assumed was brandy and poured himself a drink. He let out a dark smile before taking a generous sip. 

"I guess I took pointers from you... Merle." He saluted his now empty glass towards Sean. 

"I guess you're right. So Carl Rollins... I'm actually touched you personally handled all of this yourself. You are an extremely hard man to find. I know you started out as a military psychologist so playing one named Mikhail Popov must've been a treat. You know if the real Mikhail knew you were doing that, he would probably welcome the excuse to finally put a bullet in your head." 

The disgraced former CIA Director's eye twitched at the mention of that name. He knew what Sean said was true. The last time he saw Mikhail he did indeed take a shot at him. It was by sheer luck he bent down to tie his shoes at the precise time the bullet whizzed above him. 

However Mikhail Popov never missed, it was meant to send Rollins a message. He wanted him to know he was that close to being finished. 

A notorious long range sniper, no one knew where Mikhail came from. They had no success in tracking the bullet's trajectory; it was over a mile away. He was known to take care of sticky situations when the government's hands were tied. His work was flawless, untraceable and was paid handsomely for it. 

The real Mikhail knew Director Rollins was a traitor with incalculable influence. He knew he was planning something big, but he couldn't prove it. Unorthodox in his ways, Mikhail took it upon himself to track Rollins and end him. He would expose him bit by bit and finish him. He considered it a gift to the world. 

Just as Mikhail expected, the assassination attempt triggered a thorough investigation into Rollins's past. They concluded the assassination attempt had something to do with some unsavory characters Rollins got himself mixed up with. 

Of course they didn't know it was actually Mikhail who conveniently left the cookie crumbs for them to find. Rollins was forced out of office with an official statement thanking him for service, accepting his resignation as he tended to private family matters. 

Rollins was furious. How dare they get rid of him! But it didn't matter. He already had everything he needed. He moved to the next phase of his plan. When they finally got an inkling of what Rollins was capable of; he quickly rose to the top of every agency's most wanted list. 

What happened in Afghanistan's Khan Farm was not an isolated event. Rollins was systemically destroying U.S. presence all over the world. Rollins orchestrated the seizure of U.S. camps and would then execute the remaining soldiers in the most gruesome and morbid ways. He always made sure to leave a couple of survivors who would then be subject to months of torture and psychological reconditioning coupled with being heavily dosed with Glory. 

Then he would release the prisoners and "tie up" any loose ends. The captors who participated in the reconditioning were met with their ultimate fate. They served their purpose and Rollins didn't want any ties that would later lead to him. There were only a precious few he kept close as confidants. His lieutenants. His most trusted men. 

After adding the cocktail of the super drug he used, those survivors became walking mummies, not capable of any kind of service. Even when they were released they were so fucked up that there was no hope of them ever having a normal life. 

Word quickly spread of what was happening in deployments. 

The rumors were exaggerated and there was heightened fear everywhere. Stories of beheaded soldiers became twisted stories of savagery, cannibalism and human sacrifice. 

Panic was widespread. 

That was the biggest threat. 

Even for the bravest of men. 

Soldier's morale was at an all-time low. Cases of severe PTSD were rising and suicides were at an all-time high. 

Rollins was in effect destroying U.S. forces from the inside out. It was only a matter of time. It was imploding... 

That and the fact he had thousands of moles in every branch of service. Coupled with his own batch of U.S. Intelligence, Rollins was unstoppable. 

He made quite a name for himself among U.S. enemy forces in the Middle East. His lieutenants called him the Amir of Amirs which translated as the Commander of Commanders. Women chanted his name as they prayed every day for his health and success. The young men whispered he must be a prophet sent by their forefathers to save them. The white man with eyes so blue that they were made of ice would finally slay the western beast. 

Rollins laughed and took it all in stride, he loved the adulation. 

He slowly became a legend. He had all the respect and fame he could ask for. Something he could never get in the U.S. He had more wealth he could possible spend in one lifetime and dined with kings and princes. Beautiful young women flocked to him and considered it a privilege to give him their virginity. 

Rollins didn't hesitate, he freely took and took. His thirst would never be satisfied. His thirst to destroy the mighty and seemingly indestructible nation consumed him. He forged on with nothing and no one to stand in his way. 

Yes Rollins was unstoppable. Until now. 

Sean had become like a stubborn invisible hair in his eye. Annoying as hell and fucking hard to get rid of. 

In the beginning this young soldier was nothing more but another prisoner to break. Rollins found out a little too late Sean had been gathering information and resisting the reconditioning. He didn't know how, but he was. Somehow Sean got his hands on something big. The encrypted device he stole held the answer to everything. 

It had the name of every mole Rollins had ever used, some of which were people in very high positions. The device had detailed conversations, bank statements and wire transfers. It also held every single reconditioning site and every survivor's name and rank. All very incriminating evidence. It was necessary to keep such detailed records, just in case someone decided too rat him out one day. He'd be sure to take everyone down with him. Always expect the unexpected. 

Rollins was careful. No one knew of the device's existence or what information was on it. Rollins hadn't told a soul, not even his lieutenants. 

That was why Rollins was baffled when he learned the device had disappeared from its secure hiding place. He'd underestimated Sean. Somehow the little fucker got his hands of a device and had been extremely hard to catch since then. Rollins made a mistake by not realizing him as a potential threat. That would never happen again. Even now he wondered if it had all been too easy. 

Rollins stared at Sean as if trying to uncover what he had up his sleeve. Sean had proved to be a bigger pain in the ass than that motherfucker Mikhail. 

"When I find him, Mikhail will get what he deserves. In the meantime I decided to pretend to be him to convince your silly little sister to cooperate in handing you over. It was easy fooling her and her dumb fiancé. All I had to do was show them a couple of torture pictures of you and they were eating out of my hand. People are so desperate to believe whatever they are told, if it's shocking enough with just the right amount of hope mixed in. I knew she couldn't resist trying to save you." He said mockingly. "And I knew you couldn't resist being the sacrificial lamb." 

Sean stared straight into his eyes. "That's what family and loyalty means... Not that you know anything about that. It's true Sienna was worried about me, but she means well. And her fiancé Jason?" Sean let out a crooked grin. "Well he's smarter than you think. They both are." 

Sean glanced down at his watch. It was almost time. 

_____________ 

"Is he gone?" Sienna whispered. 

Jason peered over head and said, "Yep. Time to go." He helped her up from her kneeling position and they quickly moved towards the house where everyone waited for them. 

As they hurried Jason kissed his bride's hand and remarked, "Your acting skills were beyond good. You had me believing it." 

She grinned. "Well thank you very much. Do you think shoving him was too much?" 

"Nah, I think that motherfucker bought it." 

The whole scene unfolded exactly as they planned. Exactly as Sean planned. 

They quickly entered the makeshift dressing room and found everyone ready to go. The whole family, close friends and most of the house staff. Everyone except Frank and Latisha, they thought it was a little soon to include them and at the moment Frank was a bit unpredictable. They were all armed with any kind of weapon they could find. 

They ushered Sienna to the corner and helped her slip out of her gown into comfortable jeans, shirt and sneakers and Jason did the same. 

Jason got everyone's attention. "Alright people! Listen up. We have 20 minutes until they reach the rendezvous point. Stick to the plan. No one is gonna go rogue or apeshit. These men are extremely dangerous, but they're never going to suspect normal people doing day to day activities. Blend in and be smart. Our only goal is to detain them until backup arrives. I've been told they're on their way. Under no circumstances can we let them leave the island. Sean is counting on us. Understood?" He waited for them to nod their heads in confirmation. "Any questions?" 

John's hand shot up. "Tell me again why we couldn't try to trap them while they were here?" 

"Because these men are heavily armed and are trained killers. We didn't want to be in a situation where they could take people hostage or start hurting people to get what they want. We needed them to think they had the upper hand. Taping them on route was the best plan." Sienna replied before giving Jason a smile. She was enjoying this a little too much. 

As if suddenly remembering something Sienna furrowed her eyebrows and said, "And for the last time... I'm going. I'll be fine." This had been the subject of a long and heated argument. 

In response Jason let out a grunt. He knew there was no dissuading her. 

"Anyone else?" Jason looked out to see the crowd of friends, family and employees and felt an overwhelming sense of pride. He felt so lucky to be part of this family. Even those not bound by blood would forever be considered family. More than family. 

They all did a good job in convincing remaining guests that the wedding was supposed to be happening right now, when in fact the wedding wouldn't really take place until that evening or so they hoped. The small crowd's solemn expressions held a mixture of worry, determination and excitement. This was for Sean. There was no hesitation, not even a question. No one messed with family. 

Jason smiled in satisfaction. "Let's go." 

Groups of people filed in cars, trucks and motorcycles and moved out. They all knew what to do. 

While they drove Sienna thought back to the day all of this started. When she first met Mikhail... 

After Jason and Sienna were allowed to leave, she had this nagging feeling she couldn't shake. 

Deep in her gut Sienna didn't trust this man Mikhail. 

She trusted Sean. Her flesh and blood. Always had always would. 

Some things just didn't add with Mikhail. For one, Sean always said Mikhail was a diehard smoker. And yet Sienna noticed this man not only didn't smoke in their presence but his nails were pristine and his lips had a normal hue. The armed men around this mysterious man looked more like mercenaries than U.S. military personnel. Another thing was that a real doctor would've gone into further detail on the kind of therapy Sean would receive or the state-of-the-art facilities he would live in. But this mysterious stranger's focus was the actual capture Sean. 

There was a gleam in Mikhail's eye Sienna caught when he spoke of finally catching Sean. It was almost a desperate anticipation. It unnerved her and creeped her out. However she decided to file that information for later and play the part. 

When they left Jason admitted to also not trusting Mikhail. He wasn't 100% certain he believed his story and yet he also decided to let him believe he did... just in case. 

They were surprised and relieved to see Sean. He pulled them into another secure building a couple blocks away. Apparently Sean had been following them and caught up with them when it was clear. 

Finally they talked for hours. Sean confirmed some of the things he'd been through, but it was all at the hands of the man who supposedly was there to help him. A man who would stop at nothing to get what he wants. 

Sean got the idea earlier that day and thought he'd give it a shot. He knew you weren't supposed to smoke while taking the Obatnya herb. It gave you the shakes and made you jumpy... so he smoked a couple of cigarettes and popped some Obatnya pills before talking to Sienna. It helped him play the part as he acted unstable and a little crazy on purpose, to see if Rollins would bite. And he did. It would also make Sienna even more worried than she had been and probably reach out for any kind of help. 

Sienna was annoyed he made her worry that way, but was grateful to know the truth. Together that night they devised a new plan. The bait was set and it seemed the big fish had taken it. 

They knew by then the house must've been bugged so they had to be extremely careful. The wedding had to continue but the focus would be capturing this monster once and for all. Even while they were in secret they had to pretend to be a part of Rollin's plan to get Sean some "help". 

Close family members were finally told discretely and individually while out of the house running errands. 

Jason and Sienna arrived at the location. It was an overbank with narrow strip of road underneath. There was a massive crowd waiting for them already. Jason and Sienna only needed to ask once and most of the townspeople jumped to pitch in and help. 

The locals made sure to set up strategic detours so the caravan had no choice but to take this precise route. A herd of goats blocked the path and made sure they couldn't head one way. An overturned truck packed with boxes didn't allow them to go another way. The caravan of SUV's had only one plausible route to quickly get off the island and to their chartered boat. 




Duplicity Ch. 15



They had no choice but to navigate through the strip of land through a narrow and windy road. Immediately after they would find the pier and their waiting boat. The road had been conveniently covered in freshly laid cement. All the warnings and detour signs for it had mysteriously disappeared. This was thanks to a couple of young men who had the pleasure of meeting Merle and Layla early on. One of them, named Nico, still had a splint in his hand as he nursed a broken finger. When they found out Merle needed help, they quickly got over their differences and offered to help. 

The SUVs wouldn't realize it until they were stuck in the cement and it was too late. 

Jason and Sienna and their group got out of their cars and went in position. There were piles of rotten food and manure ready to be hurled down to them, just in case back up didn't come in time. People were armed with sticks, guns and whatever they could find. Everyone took their places. 

_______ 

The limo made a sharp left down a road in an effort to avoid some kind of overturned truck up ahead. The caravan continued on its way without complication. This was the last turn they'd take before the long and windy road which led to the pier. 

They stopped at a light and a group of boys jumped on the sides of the limo and attempted to wash its window for change. The driver was annoyed and tried to shoo them away. However one bold one in particular suctioned his face to the dark tinted window as he tried to look inside. 

Sean glanced out of the window and managed to fight a smile. It was the mischievous boy who hustled him days before. He noticed he still wore the watch he gave him. The boy let out a big toothy grin as he waved enthusiastically to the people inside. He couldn't see the people inside but he knew they were there. It wasn't too out of the ordinary for street kids to get excited with fancy cars they encountered. Sean knew when he saw the boy, it meant everything was on schedule. 

Rollins didn't seem to notice and so Sean continued. "That day after you spoke to Sienna and Jason and convinced them... I was crazy. Wait, what did you call it? You said I was a paranoid schizophrenic with a tendency of multiple personality disorder." Sean let out a laugh. "You must've pulled that shit straight out of your ass. What were you describing yourself? I knew you would try to convince them to turn me in. Sienna might be a pain in the ass with her worrying, but she's the one person that knows me inside out. She didn't believe your bullshit story, but she put on a good show to make you believe she did." 

Sean now stared at Rollins and took a long swig from the flask. He let out a contented groan after swallowing. 

Rollins had enough of Sean beating around the bush. He grabbed the gun that suddenly appeared by his side. He aimed it straight at Sean's head. "You're pathetic. Trying to delay the inevitable? Now, where is it?" 

"It's funny, I practically gave you the story and you fell for it." 

Rollins pursed his lips. It was sad what bullshit people spewed when they were about to die. 

"Oh just shut up already and give it to me." 

Sean shrugged his shoulders as he conceded. He reached into his jacket and withdrew the device. Rollins snatched it from him and with the butt of his gun smashed the small apparatus. Then he doused it with the last of the brandy, lit a match and set it on fire over the cigarette tray. 

Finally Rollins let out a contented breath and aimed the glock at Sean again. Although surprisingly Sean still seemed unfazed. 

"Can I ask you something?" 

Rollins had enough of him, but he humored him. "What?" 

"What if that was not the original? I know you've had me followed since I got here, but what if Jason, my silly sister's dumb fiancé, slipped out the day before his bachelor party, flew to Germany on his private jet and hand delivered the original device to headquarters? What if within the last hour every one of your camps is been raided simultaneously by teams of Special Forces and every mole on that list apprehended? What if we find each and every survivor and start an aggressive Obatnya detox treatment?" 

Silence. 

"What if this elaborate plan to capture me was actually an elaborate plan to capture you?" 

Rollins stared at him for a moment then broke out in laughter. There was no way that could happen. Maybe his diagnosis was right, this guy really was delusional. His finger slowly tugged the trigger. It was time to end Sean. 

Suddenly the car jolted and swayed from side to side and then slowed down. It sounded like the tires exploded. A firestorm of shots of were fired into through each car window. Through the windows canisters of gas whizzed throughout the car. The doors were somehow now locked, they cars were stuck in place. 

When Rollins looked at Sean again, a breathing mask had already mysteriously appeared over his whole face. Rollins held his breath, but ultimately coughed and coughed. He tried to shot Sean but he easily dodged the bullets as his aim was off. 

The men screamed while trying to escape. Some tried to shoot their way out, but by that time the gas had already made them sleepy until finally they all passed out. 

Sean lunged at him, retrieved the glock and quickly dismantled it. Rollins continued to cough until his body hunched over. 

Then with precision and perfect timing, droves of soldiers swarmed the SUV's. They helped Sean out of the car and placed a semi-conscious Rollins in restraints along with all of his men. 

In the commotion Sean tried to find Sienna and Jason and make sure they were all ok. He couldn't believe it, it actually worked. After all this time, Rollins was finally captured. 

Finally they would all be brought to justice. 

Rollins would finally face a military tribunal and answer for his crimes. 

Before they dragged him away, Rollins's eyes met and Sean's and he let out a soft smile. The way his dead eyes looked at Sean, unnerved him. He couldn't help but walk towards to Rollins to see what he'd say. It would probably be the last time he'd see him. 

Rollins coughed and took a deep breath. He regarded Sean for a minute before whispering, "And what if you don't get to her in time?" 

At seeing Sean's surprised face, Rollins let out a chuckle before he was beckoned away by the soldiers restraining him. 

... 

In that moment everything around Sean slowed and blurred. His heart stopped beating and his voice was lost. He snapped. 

Sean ran after Rollins and punched him in the back of the head. The older man fell to the floor as Sean unleashed blow after blow on him. Even when blood covered his knuckles and Rollins was no longer moving Sean continued to land punches on him with a crunch. There was yelling all around him, the soldiers kept trying to pry him off of him, but Sean couldn't hear them. Finally four soldiers tackled Sean to the ground. They finally took Rollins away now in need of medical attention. They held Sean tight until he was calm enough to let go. 

"Get off of me!" Sean roared. He slowly got up disoriented. 

At that moment Sienna and Jason came running down the hill toward them. 

Sean couldn't find his breath. It was hard to breathe. He was dizzy. "Layla. He has Layla." He managed to say. 

"Wait what?" Sienna hurriedly asked. "The last I checked Layla was safely boarding her flight." 

Jason quickly dialed the guard assigned to watch over her and make sure she got on the plane safe and sound. "There's no answer." 

Jason made another call. When he was done, his face paled. "It looks like the guard is missing and Layla never made it on her flight." 

"Oh my God. No!" Sienna cried. "Wait Sean, where are you going? You can't go by yourself! Sean, please!" 

Sean had already sprang into action and started running away. He couldn't hear Sienna. He couldn't see or feel anything. 

He jumped into one of the now empty SUVs with shattered windows. He sped off like a bat out of hell as he frantically searched through his phone. 

There was no time to strategize. There was no time to ask for help. He needed to act. Quickly. Nothing else mattered but her.



Duplicity Ch. 16



Hey guys-Ask and you shall receive! So after posting a comment in the last chapter, I got some help with editing (Fist pump Yeah!). Lol I want to thank TJ for all the help in editing this chapter. The next chapter is shaping up nicely and I hope to finish and post within the next 2 weeks (hopefully sooner). Don't forget to comment! Thanks for your continued support. --p2p- 

*

His mind was blank.

He was on autopilot. The subconscious part of his brain told his body what to do. Willed his body to go through the motions and... Drive.

There were no thoughts running wild through his head. No words screaming inside of him. 

Nothing. 

He just drove.

According to his phone he was less than a mile away. The tracking device he planted on her when they were on the beach that day was still active. It was proof she was still there. There was still hope. 

The red blinking light on the screen was like a beacon for his salvation. It was the only thing keeping him together. The tender fabric of his reality was stretched too thin. He'd been through too much. If he lost her, he... he... he didn't want to think about that. 

Being around Rollins tempted the darkness he kept deeply tucked away to its limit. It begged to come out and now, with his mind blank, he had no control over it. 

He prayed he got to her in time. Before it was too late for her. Before it was too late for him.

When he approached the designated area, it was quiet and desolate. There were no cars or trucks, nothing indicating there was life for miles. It was an abandoned construction site. There were blocks of cement scattered everywhere. It looked like it was originally intended to be a large bank. However the overgrown weeds grew over the concrete, as if stretching their limbs tightly over the manmade material. 

The bright sun peeked through the trees branches. It was hot, almost uncomfortably so. What started out as the most memorable day was now one full of anxiety.

Sean got out of the car and started walking towards the ruins. He assessed the area as he walked. His gait was heavy, full of apprehension. His feet felt as if they were made of concrete. 

He willed himself to keep a steady head, but his chest rose erratically. He knew what Rollins was capable of. Those horrible memories from so long ago haunted him. The ones he tried so hard to forget were suddenly coming back to him. 

He knew this was a trap, but he didn't care. Layla was the only thing that mattered. There was no other option. 

As Sean approached the open area his stomach clenched. He was quiet as he tried to listen for any signs of distress, but heard nothing. And yet the red light on his screen still blinked. He followed it throughout the fallen building.

He found himself at the center of what looked to be the bank's original lobby. The construction was in a semicircle. There was no roof. Roots of large trees had already started to force their way down the crumbly walls like an octopus stretching its tentacles for anything in its reach.

Sean did a sweep of the perimeter, but found nothing. He glanced at his phone again. Suddenly the red blinking light that had been his lifeline vanished.

Panic rose from within him. He shook his phone as if it would somehow bring the blinking light back. Bring her back.

Rushed sounds of agitated flying birds flooded the area. In the opening up above the squawking birds huddled together as if spectators to see the upcoming battle. 

"Looking for this?" A deep voice asked. 

Sean quickly turned towards it and found a stocky man holding the adhesive tracking device Sean planted on Layla. He roughly squeezed it between his fingers and flicked it away. 

The man's blue eyes gleamed as he spoke. It was as if he enjoyed the predicament they were in. He was a beast of a man like a rugby player. He was fair skinned with a light blond buzz cut. His nose was severely twisted as if it had been broken one too many times. He wore cargo pants and a white shirt. His body rippled with muscles and yet his stance screamed stealth. He could move very quickly if need be. There was something familiar about him.

"Where is she?"

"Don't you wanna know who I am first?" 

"My guess is you're the guy walking around disguised as Layla's friend Henry. The one who befriended her in the airport. I wasn't sure until now but you're also Rollins' go-to man to clean up loose ends."

The man chuckled. "That's right mate, Henry Forrester at your service. I was hired as the backup plan. An insurance policy if you will. If you didn't give Rollins the device, I'd get rid of her. If you gave him the device, Rollins would still get rid of you and her. Very limited options, really."

Sean looked at him impassively. "Where is she?"

"She's safe for now... I'll tell you what, I'll make a deal with you. You take me down and I'll instruct my men to let her go. I'll take you instead."

Sean was already removing his black tux jacket and threw it to the side. His once crisp white shirt was now wrinkled and had specks of Rollin's blood and dirt on it. He might as well get this over with. 

"And I'm supposed to just trust that you'll let her go?"

Henry smiled displaying a full row of somewhat crooked teeth. "Of course."

"You're full of shit."

Henry let out a chuckle. "No weapons, just your fists. I'll let her go in your place."

"No weapons? And you'll let her go unharmed."

"That's right. See?" Henry withdrew the semi-automatic pistol from his jacket, raised it up and slowly lowered it to the ground. He kicked it to the side, far away from both of them. 

Sean withdrew his gun, lowered it and kicked to the side as well. 

They squared off, fists in position. Impulsively Sean threw the first two punches, one right after the other. Henry's head involuntarily snapped to the side. He let out smile. "Not bad." 

Then in succinct order, Henry threw blow after blow of hard rapid punches. He socked Sean in the ribs, face, ribs and face again. 

Sean let out a grunt but skipped back away from him. He spit to the side and a little bit blood streamed out. With his hands up he was ready for the next round. Sean could tell this man was an expert bare knuckle boxer. His fists felt like bricks of solid mass. He was fast too. He didn't even realize he'd been hit until he was done with the fourth blow. 

Henry cracked his neck and cleared his throat. He was going to enjoy this.

Sean wanted to wipe that smirk off of his face. Badly. Then the motherfucker spoke...

"You know that girl of yours sure is pretty. Mm-hmm. Skin like Nutella, I just want to lick her up and down." 

Sean saw red. 

Sean charged him like a bull. But Henry easily dodged him. Instead Henry landed another punch to Sean's already tender ribs, catching him off guard. Henry took advantage and yanked him into his knee and continued kneeing him in the stomach over and over again. As Sean hovered, Henry slammed his elbow on Sean's back. Right above his lung. Sean doubled over in agony and wheezed. He was short of breath. It felt like he was choking.

Henry crouched down and whispered. "Now, I didn't get a chance to touch her yet, but..." he deeply inhaled "she smells so good. Like flowers." 

Sean's pained eyes pinned his with the deepest hatred. Die. This man was going to die today. 

Sean screamed at his body but it wouldn't cooperate. He could barely take in air. He just needed a minute, but he was cornered. 

Then Henry attacked again. He roundhouse kicked him across the face. He held him by his collar and punched him repeatedly in the face. Sean couldn't do anything but take it. He felt so weak. 

He was too emotionally invested. He kept making careless mistakes. He wasn't thinking logically or strategically. No doubt that was Henry's goal as he taunted him.

As he felt the violent blows, Sean cleared his mind. Just as he trained. 

He made himself hollow. 

Like a steel drum in the middle of a lush forest. 

The smell of the sweet morning dew lulled him and numbed him from the pain. 

There was nothing around him. Nothing could hurt him. Nothing could break him. 

Soon Henry's punches slowed. His fists felt heavy and his shoulders drooped. In that moment Sean's head turned towards Henry with his eyes closed. His gaze was serene. As if he was sleeping. Henry was caught off guard. He didn't know what was happening.

Suddenly Sean opened his eyes and head butted him with all his strength. He heard a sickening crunch. Henry stumbled and let out a shrill cry of pain.

"Fuck, not again!" Henry growled through clenched teeth. This would be the ninth time his nose was broken. 

Sean didn't let up, he was like a machine. Blow after blow. Something from deep inside of him was unleashed. He swiftly administered it to Henry's face and torso. Then, in one fell swoop, Sean kicked Henry's legs out from under him. The large man landed on his back with a loud thud. He remained unconscious on the floor. 

Sean quickly raised his fists in a fighting stance again but when he saw his opponent was finally down; he cautiously watched his every move. Sean dragged Henry's heavy body to the wall and tied him up with some rope he found. 

Sean quickly grabbed the guns they discarded and smacked Henry awake. "Hey. Hey! Make the call."

Henry's eyes filtered open and struggled to get out when saw he was tied up. Henry clenched his teeth. 

Sean mashed his foot over the rib he knew was broken. Henry let out a roar as he gurgled from the searing pain. 

"Do it." Sean hissed. 

Henry gestured towards his phone in his pocket. Sean retrieved it and Henry instructed him to dial the last call. As soon as the other line picked up, he barked out orders to bring her out.

Sean's aim remained steady on Henry, but his head turned towards the sound of shuffling. 

"Easy. Easy." Sean instructed the two armed men he saw walk in by Layla's side. There she was. She was wild eyed and looked completely petrified. 

"Lower your weapons and let her go." 

When the men didn't immediately comply, Sean eyed Henry and dug his heel into his side even harder. Henry squirmed and yelled for them to listen to him. They slowly removed their weapons and slid them to the side. Then they promptly released Layla from her restraints and took the gags off.

When Sean and Layla's eyes met Sean let out a small smile and she whimpered as tears fell from her cheeks. Her heart beat loudly in her chest. Her heart broke at seeing Sean. He looked badly bruised. His face was full of purples and blues and his eye was swollen. He came for her. Just like he said he would. God, how she wanted to run to him and hug him! She wanted to tell him how sorry she was. 

Layla looked at the men and slowly walked towards Sean. She was only a few feet away. Just a little closer...

She rushed over to and ran into his arms. He held her tight and deeply inhaled. Before he uttered a word, his gaze shifted and in that millisecond he realized Henry was gone. 

He quickly turned around, but it was too late. 

Suddenly without warning Henry stabbed Sean in his mid-back with a large blade. 

"No!" Layla screamed. Sean's eyes widened in surprise as the excruciating pain traveled through him. He almost passed out from the piercing vibration that echoed throughout his back. Layla tried to attack Henry, but the men were already there and restrained her. She kicked and scratched and screamed but she couldn't get out from under them. Her world collapsed.

Henry let go of him and Sean had no choice but to fall to his knees. He tried to reach behind but any movement made him cry out in pain. 

Henry let out a hearty chuckle. "That was for breaking my nose again." Then he roughly grabbed the gun out of Sean's hand.

Sean's breath was labored and he furrowed his brow in confusion and despair. "Just let her go." He managed to say.

When Layla caught hold of Henry's smirk, she screamed and yelled obscenities at him. She couldn't believe this vile man was Henry. Someone she thought of as a friend.

Earlier that day when she first realized this man was the Henry she befriended on the trip there, bile rose from deep within her gut. 

Three men approached her and Ron. He was the guard Jason sent to accompany her. Initially she was surprised to see Jason send a guard to accompany her, but even more surprised to see they were being approached by these men. At first she thought they were also there as additional security. 

They didn't know what was going on, but knew something was terribly wrong when they became hostile. Even though Ron had a gun, he was no match for these men. Henry barreled over towards Ron and swiftly snapped his neck and continued on his way. 

Layla's eyes widened in horror as shock overtook her. It wasn't until she was dragged away that she realized they were actually there for her. 

Layla found out Henry had been wearing a disguise this whole time similar to Merle's. He was completely different in real life. He was no longer jovial, sweet and well-mannered; he was a merciless killer. His sole purpose was to get close to her to cause her and her friends harm. Desperately she tried to scream but was quickly bound and gagged. She didn't know what the fuck was going on, but she remained silent when she saw the crazed look in his eye. 

When they arrived at the location they were at now, the unscrupulous armed men grabbed her and shoved her to the hard concrete floor. 

They told her to shut the fuck up and stop squirming around. They looked to be in an abandoned building. As the time passed, one of them remarked they were bored. The other suggested they have some fun while looking suggestively towards Layla. 

Layla tried to shuffle away, but one of the men quickly smacked her and pulled her hair while the other taunted her. They told her the disgusting things they wanted to do to her. They said they liked to hear her scream and how much they wanted to her scream louder. 

In response, the bile she managed to hold down all this time, came up. She threw up all over one of the men's shoes. The man was completely enraged. He barreled towards her, reaching for her neck to choke her with his bare hands.

Suddenly they heard a noise. The man immediately stopped dead in his tracks as they looked on towards the door in curiosity. 

Layla thought it might be Henry, but it wasn't. It was a man who came in. This one was more intimidating than all of them. He didn't speak and looked almost bored to be there. His eyes lifted towards the men and one of his eyebrows rose at the unfolding scene. That was the extent of expression he showed. His gaze was almost apathetic.

He was tall, had a dark tan, aristocratic nose and full lips peeked from under his well groomed beard. His jet black hair was slicked back and he looked as if he was of Arabic ancestry. 

His face held no warmth as he disgustedly looked at the men. The two men looked as if they were about to piss themselves in the presence of this stranger. Layla heard one of them utter his name. Haseem... 

One of the men whispered that Haseem was one of the Rollins's most feared and most respected lieutenants. A natural born killer, he said loud enough so only Layla could hear. He smiled wickedly at her as if relaying a promise. 

Haseem's gaze briefly landed on Layla before he continued to walk into the room. It was then that Layla saw it. She noticed a long sword strapped to his hip. Her whole body immediately shook. A horrible foreboding feeling came over her. She closed her eyes tightly and bent over as several tears managed to escape her eyes.

How did this happen to her? Layla thought back to how different her life had been just a few hours before. She could've been on her way to her home or even back at the house enjoying the wedding. How she wished to be back in her bed sipping some hot tea.

She felt a gentle tap on her shoulder and looked up to see Haseem. He didn't say anything and didn't look concerned for her welfare, but surprisingly offered her bottle of water. She was thirsty, but she wouldn't dare drink it. She didn't know if it was poisoned or drugged. Haseem seemed to understand her trepidation. He grabbed an empty cup and poured some of the water in it and drank its contents. As if to assure her it was safe. Finally with great hesitation Layla took the bottle and gulped the water down. She let out a contended sound as it quenched her thirst. 

The two men looked on in irritation, but didn't dare utter a word. 

Then she heard some commotion outside. Henry came in and looked mad as hell. He muttered something about there being an ambush. Something about that little motherfucker Sean had it all planned out. Layla's heart leapt when she heard Sean's name. There may still be hope for her. 

However Henry assured the men they would get paid, they just had to follow through on the plan. Apparently someone named Rollins still had people who would ensure the money reached their bank accounts as soon as the job was done. The men agreed. Henry then looked towards Haseem who remained silent during the exchange. 

"And I don't give a fuck who you are, you follow my lead. Alright?"

Haseem's looked at him unfazed. He looked uninterested in acknowledging Henry and instead let out a sigh. Obviously used to this man's antics, Henry took it as a confirmation and left the room. 

Now as Layla looked at Sean, he looked to be in so much pain. All she wanted to do was be in his arms one more time. Guilt struck her. He was there for her. He gambled his life for her. There was so much she needed to tell him.

One of the men pushed Layla to the ground and forced her to kneel across from Sean.

Sean stared into her eyes even as the numbing unimaginable pain spiked through him. God she was beautiful. Maybe he never deserved her. This is what happened to the women he fell in love with. Suddenly a ball of regret and self-hatred threatened to consume him. 

He was defeated. His shoulders sagged and he could only whisper, "I'm so sorry."

Layla shook her head and cried. She recognized the look of defeat in his eye. No, they had to have hope, even if there was none to be had.

"Now, the boss was very specific on how he wanted this to go. He said, put him and the girl on their knees facing each other... and to use a sword. Just like old times he said." Henry let out a chuckle. 

"I don't really use swords, but I'm damn good with a blade. So I'm going to need that back."

Henry grabbed the blade still imbedded in Sean's back and, with one swift motion, pulled it out. Sean let out a torturous sound. He gurgled and felt his consciousness start to go in and out. The pain he felt was beyond physical. At that moment he was transported to years before. 

It was happening again. 

He was powerless to stop it. 

Again. 

His vision went blurry. All he smelled was the sweet smell of the Khan farm's poppies. It made him sick to his stomach. He inhaled deeply as though he couldn't get enough oxygen to his lungs. His chest rose erratically and he was disoriented. 

Sean could hear Layla's hysterical cries as they blended with Khatira's. Khatira, the pretty local girl he was completely infatuated with. The girl who lay her trust in him only to be let down. He blinked several times and saw Layla. 

Blood. All Sean could smell was the sickening iron-filled scent everywhere. There were bodies everywhere. His friends, his captain... all good soldiers dead at the hands of pure evil. 

Sean realized the sickening iron-filled scent of blood he smelled was his own. 

Hassem finally appeared behind Layla and the guards. He'd been on the phone for a couple of minutes prior. Henry wondered who he spoke to. He'd better have been talking to whoever was going to get him his money. He had a plane to catch.




Duplicity Ch. 16



Sean's droopy aquamarine eyes connected with Haseem and he slowly nodded. He understood. 

Rollins arranged for this last act to play out just like the last time. 

To inflict the maximum pain. 

Sean and Layla would be executed at the same time.

Henry girded his blade and waited. Layla would be the first to go so Sean could witness it. He looked down on Sean and couldn't wait to end this.

Sean's eyes connected with Haseem's. He hadn't seen him in years. Their suspicions had been correct. Although a sliver of doubt crept in, he forged on. Slowly and with great struggle Sean lifted his right hand and touched his chest.

With his eyes his still on Haseem, Sean whispered, "As-salamu alaykum brother." 

Henry, the guards and Layla were confused as to who Sean was talking to. 

Haseem slowly nodded. He let out a small smile and slightly bowed towards Sean. He always liked that about him. The respect he showed towards his customs. "Wa-laykum salaam." 

The next seconds went lighting fast. In that split second Haseem wielded his sword and sliced through one of the guard's neck and plunged into the other. They both fell to the floor with a loud thud. Henry was momentarily shocked at the turn of events. He gritted his teeth and quickly hurled his blade towards Sean's neck. 

Before Henry could finish swinging the weapon two gunshots echoed through the room. 

--- 

--- 

Agitated birds flew above them spooked from the loud sound. 

The booming pops echoed in Layla's ear. 

Her breath stopped. 

Her heartbeat slowed. 

Her voice was lost.

Caught between horror and desperation; the throbbing stillness froze her. One beat at a time.

Henry's surprised eyes widened as he looked down at his chest. Sean was the one holding the gun. From his kneeling position he held the gun steady towards him. No one knew when he grabbed it again. Blood quickly spread drenching Henry's shirt as the fatal bullet did its damage. Henry stumbled then fell to the ground. 

It was all blurry. Sean couldn't hear anything. His body finally gave out and he collapsed to the ground. 

His last images were vivid and familiar. 

Washed with white he recognized Layla as her angelic face came into view. He was grateful that would be the last image he would see. He gently closed his eyes and succumbed to sleep.

"Sean, stay with me. Don't go to sleep Sean. Stay with me. Oh GOD. Please! Sean! Wake up!"

But everything in Sean's world had already turned black. __________

The medical transport chopper dropped the patient at 1700 hours. 

They quickly transported him into an ambulance. The hospital was 15 minutes away. The ambulance ride was a noisy one. There were voices on top of voices. Calling out orders and asking questions. 

The military medical personnel quickly worked on him. With surgical scissors they cut through his shirt as they assessed the damaged. The man seemed slightly lucid. His face was covered in his now drying blood. 

The patient was male, in his late fifties, had no history of any major allergies and wasn't currently on any medications. He was being treated for battery and a blow to the head. They administered oxygen, checked his vitals and quickly started an IV line. They feared he had internal bleeding, but most likely it was severe bruising and a possible cerebral contusion.

He seemed innocent enough, but the man was a prisoner who had to be restrained at all times. There were four Marines assigned to him. They didn't say much, but their eyes remained glued to the man who lay quietly on the stretcher. The medical personnel didn't know who this man was, but he must be someone dangerous. 

The man moved his oxygen mask to the side and chuckled. "Do you know who I am? I've got connections you wouldn't even dream of. I'll be out of custody within a day." The older man spoke seemingly to the group of silent Marines or whoever would listen.

One particular Marine named Caleb clenched his teeth at hearing his voice. He hated this man. 

He hoped this old guy wasn't going to cause trouble because he was not in the mood. He was so glad to see Sean beat him up so badly. Damn near killed the man; he deserved that and much more. 

They had orders to bring him in alive. Preferably, but not necessarily. Did Rollins not know he was the most wanted man in America? What the U.S. accomplished this day would go down in history as neutralizing the biggest terrorist threat in history. He would surely spend the rest of his days awaiting his death sentence. And yet he knew that as soon as they got back to the U.S. there would probably be protests to commute his sentence to life. Even though it would be a closed door military tribunal, Rollins' fate would be a highly publicized one. 

It wasn't fair. This man was responsible for so many American deaths. One of which was his older brother, Aiden. He was one of the thousands who died in one of Rollins' raids. His brother died at the hands of this man. And here he was tasked to watch him be nursed back to health.

Suddenly a sharp pop whizzed through the ambulance window. Several loud screams and curses flooded the truck. The Marine's team leader Rick hastily barked out orders. They quickly assembled into their positions. They had been compromised. 

"Keep driving." Rick yelled at the ambulance driver. They were just minutes away from the hospital. The paramedics took cover behind anything they could find.

Rick peered through the ambulance window to see what kind of threat the faced. It was most definitely one of Rollins' men there to try and to break him free.

Their engaged weapons were at their fingertips as they waited for other shots to follow. 

They prepared for an attack. 

But none came.

Just as they reached the hospital, Rick's eyes landed on the older man who looked to be sleeping peacefully in the ambulance stretcher. The squad quickly assembled outside providing cover as they finished transport. The medical personnel scrambled with the patient, but found him to be unresponsive. The doctors rushed to greet the incoming patient and were confused. They were told his injuries were non life-threatening. They quickly searched his chest and found it. A direct shot to his heart. Killed instantly.

No one knew where the bullet came from. This was the work of a highly trained marksman. 

Perhaps it was an enemy combatant out to make sure Rollins didn't flip on them and reveal any enemy secrets. Perhaps it was the U.S. government who preferred to deal with a dead traitor than a traitor on trial for his life. Or perhaps it was someone who finally fulfilled his promise.



Duplicity Ch. 17



Hey guys, 

Here's the next chapter. Sorry it's a bit shorter than usual. I just felt good about ending this chapter where it did. That way the next chapter will be kinda like a new beginnings type of thing. Don't fret, there's another chapter (maybe two) and maybe an epilogue. Special thanks to TJ and thelovely1glo with all their help with editing. As always don't forget to comment. Thanks! 

P.S. The title Hold you in my Arms is taken from the song by Ray LaMontagne. :) 

______ 

Everything was quiet and still. 

The sunlight peeked through the blinds as if peppering gentle kisses enticing him to rise. He was in a drunken haze of sleep. His eyelids were heavy as bricks. 

He'd slept so soundly, so content without any disturbance of his unconscious past. He had forgotten what that was like, to sleep so soundly. 

It was the most delicious dream. Layla was there. He recognized her sweet voice, her smell, her touch. The way her breath hitched every time he touched her. The way her soft lips traveled down his neck. The way her most sensitive spots were never too far from his deft fingers. 

Sean slowly opened his eyes. He saw Sienna as she stood by the far corner window arranging bright flowers in a vase. He was about to ask her what she was doing in his room, but took in his surroundings for the first time. 

There was a gentle beep of a monitor and the smell of sterilized equipment wafted the air. It made him realize where he was. The IV tubes flowed up his hands and arms. He tried to move but let out a loud groan instead. 

Sienna snapped her head in his direction and ran over to him. 

"AAHH!! Oh my God. Oh my God. Sean! You're awake," she cried hysterically. 

She ran out of the room. "He's awake! He's awake! Oh thank God," she screamed. 

Sean looked at her as if she'd gone mad. What the fuck? 

She ran back inside and rushed to his side. As she hugged him, tears fell from her face. 

"Thank God. Thank God," she whispered. 

"Where are we?" Sean's voice sounded hoarse. His throat was dry. 

"We're in a hospital in New York." Sienna handed him a cup of water. 

After swallowing Sean asked, "New York?" 

Two nurses rushed in and fussed all over him. One of them asked him a series of questions while the other checked his levels. 

Their heads turned at the sound of the door opening. 

"Hi Sean, my name is Dr. Hellman. It's so nice to finally meet you. How are you feeling?" He was fairly young looking and had a pleasant face. He did a thorough check and asked Sean questions about his pain level. 

He ran a metal tool down Sean's left foot and asked if he felt anything. Sean looked up at him in confusion but nodded that yes he had. He repeated the action to his right foot and although it was faint, he felt it as well. 

The doctor and Sienna seemed extremely relieved. "There are still more tests to run, but for now it seems we're out of the dark." 

The doctor pulled up some x-rays up on his iPad and showed them to Sean as he spoke, "Your recovery has really been remarkable. When the blade pierced your back it just barely missed any of your major organs. You're extremely lucky. Now you have a bit of long road ahead. I estimate you'll need to be in rehabilitation and physical therapy any where from 8 months to a year. 

Sean's eyes widened and the doctor raised his hands. "Maybe less. It really depends on you and how you take to it. You healed beautifully from all your other injuries, but the damage to your spine was pretty severe. You'll need to take it one day at a time." 

He looked towards Sienna and smiled. The patient's sister was a force to be reckoned with. She hadn't missed a day in coming to see him along with other family members. "It looks like you have a really good support system here so I'm confident your recovery will go smoothly." 

Sean was trying to wrap his head around everything. He was in shock. 

"Sean, count yourself lucky. You could've easily been paralyzed from an injury like this, but you're young and extremely healthy. Plus we work with some of the best physical therapists in the country." 

The doctor left, saying he would be in to see him tomorrow and that he should try and get some rest. 

When they were left alone, Sienna clasped her hands to her chest and exhaled. Of all the days, she was the only one there right now. It was a miracle. She should have run out and call everyone with the news, but instead took in this moment with her brother. 

"What's the last thing you remember?" 

"Layla... Is she-?" Sean tried to sit up, but the pain pulsed through him. 

Sienna quickly nodded. "Layla is fine. She's not here right now, but she's fine." He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. 

"What happened?" 

"The men who took Layla... they almost killed you both." Sienna's voice cracked. It was still hard to talk about. 

"But one of the men saved Layla and you shot the other one. No one knows who he was. As soon as help came he disappeared." 

Sean nodded. "Haseem. His name is Haseem Kamran. He saved Layla. But he saved me long before. He was one of Rollins' most trusted lieutenants. I met him a long time ago when I was held prisoner. At first, I thought he represented everything I hated, but eventually I realized he wanted the thing same I did." 

Sienna's eyebrows rose in expectation. 

"To be free. We both just wanted to be free. From a very young age he was forced to become who he was and he was tired of it all. He sought me out and promised to help me. He taught me how to fight. Not just how to fight, but to conquer and destroy the enemy by calculating and targeting them accurately. He taught me how to wait for the right time to strike. In return all he wanted was for me to help him bring down Rollins. Together we gathered all the information we needed and when it was time he helped me escape." 

Sean's expression turned haunted. "There were times when I really didn't think I was going to make it. He protected me from the worst of it. I owe him my life." 

When he finished talking, Sienna's eyes were as wide as saucers. "We had no idea who he was. He called for help as soon as you were stabbed. That was how they were able to get to you in time." 

With watery eyes she sniffled and rubbed her nose. "But Sean, it was so close. If it'd been even a minute later... you wouldn't have made it. I was so close to losing you again, Sean." She couldn't help it. She burst into tears at the thought. 

"Hey... but you didn't. I'm here." 

Sienna grabbed some tissues and blew her nose noisily. 

"Hey, you wanna know something? When I was held as prisoner I went through some of the most ... horrible things. You wanna know what held me together? What kept me from going crazy for real?" 

She shook her head in response. 

"You." 

Her brows furrowed in confusion. 

Sean nodded. "In the military they train you, prepare you for every scenario. If you're taken prisoner, they teach you to focus on a good memory. You have to go to a good place in your mind in order to get through it and not lose grip on reality. It centers you and keeps you mentally strong. All of my good memories were of you. Cece, you were my center, my rock." 

Sienna's eyes widened and they couldn't contain more tears. Now they fell with more gusto. They were a mix of happiness and heart-breaking sadness. The things he'd endured, she couldn't start to imagine. 

She hugged him tight and squished her cheek to his. "I love you Sean. So much." 

"Ok, alright. It hurts... you're squeezing me too hard." 

She let out a chuckle and apologized. She fluffed his pillow and remained quiet, as if deep in thought. 

"God, Sean, the shit you went through... I want to meet this guy Haseem and thank the hell out of him. Do you know where he could've gone?" 

Sean let out a crooked grin. "No, but I'm sure you'll meet him someday, hopefully soon. Now that Rollins' operation has been destroyed, it's not safe for him out there. He always wanted to come to the U.S. and often talked about what he would do when he'd get here. I have a number I call every so often to check in with him. I gotta make sure he's somewhere safe and find out about getting him to the States." He looked around for his phone. "What day is it?" 

Sienna cringed and bit her bottom lip in apprehension.. "It's Tuesday... February 6th." 

His eyes widened. "What?!" 

She slowly nodded. "Your injuries were really bad Sean. Your spine was almost severed and you had internal bleeding. You had to go through several operations and were kept sedated. Then you slipped into a coma. We kept praying for a miracle. As soon as you were stable, we assembled the best team of doctors and flew you back to New York." 

Sean sighed. "Fuck. It's been almost two months." She pursed her lips and waited for him continue. 

He wouldn't dwell on it. He was just grateful he was alive and back home. "Where is everybody anyway?" 

"We rotate times when we come and visit. In the beginning it was pure chaos with everyone here at once. The family was driving the nurses crazy. So I sent them all home with a schedule." 

Sean rolled his eyes and let out a small smile. He could imagine the scene unfolding. "I'm sorry I ruined your wedding." 

Sienna let out a laugh and shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah that. It'll happen. Not sure when, but someday." 

He looked down looked at her stomach; she'd already started to show. "How's my nephew?" 

She smiled and rubbed her belly. "Good, the baby is really good. I'm still rooting for a girl, though." 

"You can root all you want, but that baby is going to be a boy." 

She laughed. "What do you have against girls?" 

"Hey I got nothing against girls, but I want the first to be a boy so I can do guy stuff with him. And he can look out for his little sister." 

Sienna laughed. "Little sister? I'm not planning on having another one just yet. So if it's a girl you'll just have to plan to do uncle and niece stuff together." 

There was a stretch of silence and she stared at him. He had a faraway look about him. As the conversation turned to starting a family, she knew who he was thinking of. She was about to say something about it, to reassure him of his doubts when she felt her phone vibrate. She looked down at the screen and smiled. Perfect timing. 

She responded to the text then said, "Someone is coming up to see you." 

Sean was still in a daze and didn't really hear her. The meds were finally kicking in. The door slowly opened and in she walked. Layla was cautious as she entered, as if she was scared to see him again. 

"You're here." Sean's groggy voice was full of surprise. It was as if he summoned her with his mind. She looked different, if possible even more breathtaking than before. Her natural hair was starting to grow out and her natural curls bounced by her neck. She wore a fitted tee and her jeans hugged her thighs in the most delicious way. 

Sienna looked between the two of them and how neither of them were talking. "Right, well I'm going to go out to the hall and make some calls. I'll be back." 

When Sienna was gone, Layla simply stood rooted in place. She rocked back on her heels avoiding eye contact. This was very strange. She visited him regularly while he was unconscious. Initially she felt a desperate urge to be next to him, especially when he was in critical condition. She'd talk to him for hours, about everything. She wished and prayed he would just once open his eyes and respond back to her. Now he was finally awake and she had no idea what to say. 

"Come here." He softly said. 

Layla slowly walked towards him and sat in the chair next to the bed. 

Sean looked into her eyes. They were just as beautiful he remembered. "Hey." 

She averted her eyes from his. "Hey..." 

Silence.  

"How do you feel?" 

"That depends." 

Layla's eyes finally connected with his. "On?" 

"You still mad at me?" 

Layla's eyes widened and she let out a laugh. But suddenly, as if a memory struck her, her chuckle turned into something else and she turned serious. Her mouth trembled and she lowered her head. Silent tears fell down her cheeks. 

Sean grabbed hold of her hand and brought it to his. "You gotta stop crying. I can't have everyone that comes to see me cry on top of me. I'm not dead damn it." His voice was full of humor. 

Her tears subsided and she whispered, "Sean, what you did for me. We almost... You almost..." 

Sean held her hand and examined it for a minute. He turned her left thumb over and saw there was a very faint line of a scar there. He smiled the memory. 

"You remember this?" 

Layla pursed her lips then smiled. "Yes." 

It was one of the first times she ever spoke to Merle. She accidentally cut herself with a box cutter and Merle provided some "assistance" with her injury. 

Sean brought her thumb to his lips and gently kissed the tender flesh. 

"That was the first time I ever touched you. I knew then that I was in trouble." 

Layla subconsciously bit her bottom lip as she felt her body heat rise. This man was in a freaking hospital bed and still managed to get under her skin. 

"But then I fucked up when I should've told you the truth about who I really was." 

Layla was reflective for a moment but then replied. "Yes you should've told me. But you had a good reason for not telling me. I should've heard you out." 

In response he raised her hand to his lips again. "You think we can start over?" 

Layla let out a small smile. "That depends..." 

"On?" 

She raised her eyebrow. "Anything else I should know about you?" 

"Well..." Sean looked thoughtful for a moment. "I do have an unholy and probably unhealthy addiction to some girl named Layla." 

A flutter of heat traveled through her as a coy smile emerged. 

"Oh really?" 

"Mm-hmm." 

Sean tugged her close. She easily complied, but stopped a few inches from his face. Sean breathed her in and whispered, "It's fucking good to see you." 

Layla chuckled. "It's fucking good to see you too.' 

He gave her a kiss. It was soft and sweet and full of promises. As his tongue probed hers she let out a small moan. He nibbled on her bottom lip and let out a groan. When he pulled away his eyelids were droopy and he couldn't contain the yawn that escaped his lips. 

"Tired?" 

Sean let out a crooked grin. "Not anymore." 

"Liar, you should rest." 

"We have a lot to talk about." 

"There's no rush. We have time." 

"Promise?" 

"Promise." 

Sean tried to suppress another yawn by covering his mouth. 

"Close your eyes and rest. I'll stay for a while and then come back tomorrow." 

He nodded in agreement. Then he slowly moved his body to the right and patted the empty space next to him on the bed. Layla seemed hesitant at first, but Sean stuck out his bottom lip out like a petulant child. She chuckled but obliged him. After removing her boots, she maneuvered herself on the bed next to him while being careful not to disturb his IV lines. 

She lay on her side and settled her head on his chest. As he closed his eyes he let out a deep sigh and instantly relaxed. This is what he was missing. Absently he ran his fingers down her neck and back. This was the best medication. 

Afraid of touching him at first, she lay stiffly next to him. After a moment, she softly rubbed his strong chest. It steadily rose up and down as sleep overcame him. There was so much to talk about. So much to figure out, but there was no other place Layla would rather be. 

She reached for the TV control and turned it on. The sound was low enough to not disturb his deep slumber. Layla's eyes were heavy as well, due to lack of sleep from worrying about him. 

The evening news was on; Rollins' take-down had been the top story for months now. 

Sienna and Jason had already sat Layla down and told her the truth. They told her of the whole plot, some of what Sean had been through and what he'd done throughout the years. They wanted to wait for Sean to tell her, but as the days passed it only seemed fair to fill her in. 

Now her ears perked up, curious to see what the veteran journalist would say. 

"Good evening. In recent news, we learned of a massive government raid on terrorist's camps and the internal investigations that have taken place. These efforts were only possible because of crucial Intelligence the U.S. government received. We've learned the man behind it was ex-CIA director Carl Rollins. Rollins, along his network of enemy combatants had been systematically attacking and capturing U.S. encampments all over the world. 

"Enemy forces killed and tortured U.S. troops while others were taken captive. Our brave men and women were taken to reconditioning camps where they would endure physical and psychological torture. Most of these soldiers were thought to be dead. Their families were told as much and burials were performed. No one knew these reconditioning camps even existed until this Intelligence was brought forward. 

"We now know it was all possible due to an extraordinary plot involving one CIA operative and several civilians. Special Forces were then able to capture Rollins and his accomplices. Apparently, an injured Rollins died en route to the hospital after being captured. The cause of death has not been released to the public. The names of the CIA operative, civilians an Special Forces unit have also not been released to the public. 

 "In addition, a list of individuals working within the U.S. government and supplying Rollins with information to execute terror plots was also retrieved from this Intelligence. These men and women have been apprehended and await trial. This has been hailed as the single most significant counter-terrorism effort.  

 

"Fortunately, the amount of brave men and women rescued from these reconditioning camps are in the hundreds. These individuals have endured significant trauma. Their families have been notified, but they have a long to go towards leading normal lives. 

"Today we learn a bi-partisan committee has been formed to directly address these veterans' unique needs. Several treatment centers are being formed around the country to facilitate their recovery. We've been told the principal one is being established right here in New York City. 

"Who will head this rehabilitation center? Who is this mystery CIA operative whose heroic efforts brought down the most notorious terrorist and his organization? Perhaps these will be one and the same. Hey, I'm just throwing it out there." The reporter smiled. "At any rate, whoever or wherever this person is, all we can wholeheartedly say is... Thank You. 

"More after these messages." 

________ 

Hey guys- I just wanted to thank you all for your comments throughout this story. I don't know if you realize it or not, but your comments and feedback have been really important. The good, the bad and the ugly. All comments are important. It's like a temperature read on the story and characters and I often gauge it by your reactions. For example some anonymous person with military background left a comment back in chapter 7 about how they didn't believe Sean was crazy because of how they're trained in the military; to go to good place in your mind and focus on a good memory. Well as you read in Sean and Sienna's conversation, I was able to add a little of that in this chapter. Your feedback and encouragement has been invaluable. So thanks again. You guys are awesome. 

-p2p



Duplicity Ch. 18



Hey guys,

So sorry it's taken this long for an update. Hopefully you'll approve of this chapter; there's lots of ahem... Sean & Layla. ;) Special thanks to TJ for editing and giving me great feedback. As always don't forget to comment and rate!

***** 

"Focus Sean, push through! Give it everything you've got!" 

"Just shut the fuck up already! Damn, I'm trying," Sean growled. 

Beaded sweat shook off of his forehead and temples as he struggled to continue. Weakened legs stretched and lengthened, causing a strangled roar to emanate from deep within him. 

One more step. 

He heaved as he tried to tamper the radiating pain running through his body. Without the aid of his back brace, his vise grip on the steel beams held him steady. Desperate green eyes squinted towards the passageway which seemed endless like the open sea. And all he wanted was to turn back around. 

After a couple of weeks of rigorous therapy, he accepted that each time would be harder than the last. The medical professionals around him said it was a good sign; it meant he was healing properly, but he wasn't so sure. At any rate, he knew he had to do it. 

Today, however, he just wasn't feeling it. He didn't feel like being poked and prodded or asked how he was doing. He didn't feel like being coddled by his mother and sister. Today his limbs felt heavier than normal and a cloud of pity hovered over him. 

He shouldn't have to deal with this shit. For years he trained and relied on his body to do exactly what he needed it to do, but now... walking a couple of steps was a mission in and of itself. 

He should be able to do normal things like throw his girl over his shoulder, run to his bedroom and sink himself deep inside of her. Unfortunately, that wasn't possible... and it was driving him insane. There was nothing wrong with his dick; so every time he was around Layla he had to give it a talk to calm the hell down. The doctors said he should wait to be sexually active; they didn't want him to aggravate his injuries, but fuck that. Tonight his woman was his. 

Suddenly, the door opened and in she walked. Right on time. Sean thought as he let out a lecherous grin. 

Fresh faced and casually dressed she strolled in and when her eyes connected with his, everything else became blurry. Even bundled up in her winter layers, Sean knew every tantalizing curve. Three days had been too long since he'd last seen her. Last weekend marked her last wedding event before she retired her business and she'd been so busy they'd barely spoken. God, he missed her. Shit, he sounded like such a pussy, but he didn't care. 

Ignoring the pain, his back straightened and he took another step. Towards her. Towards the goal. 

Like an astronaut on a spacewalk... he was weightless. 

He couldn't feel the throbbing ache or the frustration seared in his bones, just her. The room erupted in applause at his achievement, but he just heard her. 

Lips crashed on hers before any words were spoken. Layla let out a surprised whimper as his tongue pushed into her delicious mouth; she moaned and reciprocated the kiss. 

Feeling a little dizzy and out of breath, she opened her eyes and whispered, "I take it you missed me?"

"Maybe a little." Grateful for the ability to stand without assistance, he tightened his hold on her waist.

Lost in each other, they didn't notice the stares or Dr. Nguyen, the lead physical therapist approach. He was small in stature but incredibly strong; his voice was so calm it could easily lull anyone to sleep. He let out a wide smile which made his eyes turn into tiny slits. 

"Excellent Sean, that was great. Now we know what you were missing..." he cocked his head towards Layla. "Not that I blame you." He winked at her then laughed when Sean rolled his eyes. 

The good doctor was always messing with Sean as he shamelessly flirted with Layla because he knew it got under his skin. They quickly became good friends so it was all innocent; but goddamn it, today it grated Sean's nerves. However he held his tongue and busied himself by fitting his back brace in place. He'd be glad when he didn't have to rely on it any longer.

"And how is this beautiful creature doing?" Dr. Nguyen asked her after patting Sean on the back like a trainer attempting to soothe a feral beast. 

In the short period of time they worked together, he really had taken to Sean. They often spoke for hours about all sorts of things. Lately, he noticed Sean become more and more frustrated with himself. Dr. Nguyen had seen it all before; men who once thought they were invincible suddenly had to accept the fact they weren't. If it wasn't addressed he could fall into deep depression. He needed to have something to fight for, even if it was stirring his basest instincts. 

"I'm good Dr. Nguyen and you?"

"Please, please call me Vien." The doctor's white teeth sparkled and there was mischief in his dark eyes. He stretched his hand towards her while eying Sean in his periphery. Sean hardened his gaze. This fucker was doing it on purpose, wasn't he? Today was not the day.

Sean slapped Vien's hand away before Layla could accept it. Vien managed to contain his laughter by biting his bottom lip. 

"We gotta go." Sean grumbled as he settled in the wheelchair provided; he hastily rolled himself away with his lady in tow. Normally he could get around with forearm crutches, but since they parked so far from the therapy building, this was easier.

Layla managed to chuckle and wave goodbye to Dr. Nguyen. 

"Remember to do your stretches at home Sean!" He called out after them.

"Yeah sure whatever." 

Sharon, Sean's mother, waited for them in the reception area. When she saw her son coming towards her, pride enveloped her. He did so well today; she wanted to run over and squeeze him tight, but she refrained. After speaking with Sienna they agreed to give him a little breathing room. They noticed his broody behavior and didn't want to push him away.

"How's my other baby doing today?" Sharon gave Layla the tight hug and simply smiled at Sean. They walked off together and left Sean behind while they whispered to each other. He loved how easily Layla fit in with his family. Sienna already adored her and everyone else embraced her with open arms. 

Although sometimes they were too much. Like today. As they greeted his mother, Sean braced himself, as he thought she would fuss all over him. Sharon and Sienna had been so overprotective of him; like sentinels one or both of them were almost always by his side.

Instead of the expected behavior, Sharon casually looked over her shoulder and remarked, "Good job today, honey." 

By then they arrived at the parking garage. "Alright, I'll see you later this week mom."

When it looked like she was going to protest he added, "I'll call you, ok?" 

Reluctantly, she handed him the keys to his new apartment. "Everything is all set up. Your things are unpacked, you have fresh linens and the refrigerator is fully stocked with food." Sharon hesitated; she didn't think it would be this hard. 

After all these years, it was silly really; he was a grown man and would be living just thirty minutes away. Because he enlisted in the army at such a young age, this was really the first time she felt the pang of him moving out. The past couple of weeks he'd stayed at home in his old room and she took advantage mothering him as he healed from his injuries. She cooked all of his favorite foods and, despite his protests, she doted on him every chance she got. Now it was finally time to let go. 

Her voice was hoarse. "The lock is tricky you have to turn it to the left and then push it open. Just call me if you need anything ok?"

Feeling her hesitation, Sean let out a smile and took her hand. "Without traffic I'm just a twenty-eight minute drive away."

Sharon let out a breath and a tear ran down her cheek. She'd been on high alert ever since Sean miraculously came back into their lives. A roller coaster of emotions. Perhaps it was now time to take a step back and enjoy life with her family again. She bent down and gave him a kiss on the top his head. 

"I love you mom, alright? Try not to worry so much." 

She let out a smile. "I'll try." 

She took in a deep breath and with her heart now content, she exhaled. "Ok, goodbye my babies." She gave them both hugs. "I'll see you at the house on Sunday for dinner, right? Everyone will be there." 

Sean's gaze fell on Layla and she nodded in agreement. "Can I bring my mom along?" She was making a conscious effort to include her mother in family gatherings.

"Of course! I'd love to finally meet her."

_________

It was a two-bedroom first floor apartment in a central location. After respecting his wishes of living alone, Sienna and Sharon took care of furnishing and decorating his apartment the way they thought he would like. He could change anything around once he settled in, but they didn't want him worrying about that as he recuperated. They decorated it in neutral tones and modern furnishings. The splashes of colors came from the paintings hung on the wall which were Sienna originals. This was the first time he'd seen it finished and he had to hand it to them, they did an awesome job. 

He groaned as he settled on the couch while Layla headed towards the kitchen to get a glass of water. 

"You want some?" She called out from the kitchen.

"Yeah, I want some alright." He mumbled.

Sheen she returned she had taken off her coat and scarf and had a tall glass of water in her hands. She offered it to him but he declined. She pressed the glass to her lips and swallowed the clear liquid. Sean sat enraptured as the liquid disappeared between her lips. She let out a contented groan when she finished, unaware of how Sean's gaze suddenly turned predatory. 

There was a drop of water that escaped her and ran down her chin. Sean licked his lips. It was time to play.

"Come here, sweetheart."

She smiled and slowly walked towards him. Once within reach, he grabbed her thighs and guided her to straddle him. 

"Sean, I don't want to hurt you." Layla's concerned voice was sincere. She'd been so scared of exacerbating his injuries; she'd kept her distance from him. 

"Ssshhh. Just come here." 

She complied and straddled him. He held her to him and captured her neck as he slowly licked the wayward drop from her chin and brought her lips to his. He plundered her mouth in submission and delighted as she became putty in his hands. His hands roamed up her body as he stoked the fire stirring down below. 

Suddenly he dropped his hands and whispered, "Take off all of your clothes."

Layla sucked in a sharp breath as she processed what he'd just said. She hesitated. "Sean..."

"Take off your clothes."

She bit her bottom lip and slowly unbuttoned her shirt and jeans. 

Sean let out a wicked smile and slowly rubbed his cock over his sweatpants as she continued to strip for him. Anticipation flooded through her as she stood in her lace blue bra and panties. 

"You're so beautiful." Sean's fingers skimmed up her thighs, stomach and under her breasts. 

"Now your bra and panties."

Layla obediently did as he asked. The cool air made her shiver slightly or perhaps it was the effect Sean had on her. Her pretty pussy was bare and already glistened for him. Her breasts stood at attention and her chocolate nipples were hard nubs. 

"Now twirl around for me." Sean groaned and bit his lip as the smooth expanse of brown skin came into view. Her body was made for fucking. It was made for him. Even better than he remembered, her ass cheeks were perfect globes that overfilled his hands. 

He pulled her down to straddle him again and their greedy lips melted into each other. His tongue delved deeper in her mouth while his hands roamed down her warm skin. Unconsciously she ground herself against his hard thickness. She was so wet.

"Now take mine off." He huskily said.

She quickly stretched his shirt off of him. Tattooed muscled arms and chest just added to his appeal. He oozed sex. He let out a sigh of relief when he removed his brace and leaned back. His eyes confidently roamed her body as she stared back at him. His tightly corded muscles and iron chest made him look like a greek god and she was happy to serve at his temple.

Slowly she got off of his lap and shrugged his sweatpants and boxers down his hips. His long thick dick sprang up and she licked her lips. Amazingly this was the first time she'd ever seen it. She held her breath at the perfection in front of her. She guessed he was close to nine inches of circumcised velvety goodness. As she stared at the thick mushroom head she hummed in excitement. All this time... this was what she was missing. 

Sean felt pre-cum leak as he stared into her lust-filled eyes. She looked ravenous as though his dick held the last drink in the desert. 

"You want a taste baby?"

She licked her lips, settled on her knees and pressed her mouth to it. She kissed it tenderly as her tongue snaked out and slowly laved the head. Sean let out a groan and could only sit and stare as she started to lick up and down his shaft. 

In perfect coordination she massaged his heavy balls as her mouth attempted to engulf his cock whole. She could only get to half way but vacuumed her way up and down. Her cheeks hollowed and her head bobbed as she swirled her tongue around the head. Tightening her closed eyes she moaned as she felt herself get so wet. Sean was about to loose it as the gentle vibrations were making it very hard for him not to cum. He had no idea she was this skilled. She was going to kill him from the pleasure and he was going to die a very happy man. 

One of her hands disappeared between her legs when she couldn't take it anymore; she had to touch herself. Her fingers rubbed her weeping core in tight small circles. She let out another contented moan and Sean didn't think he could get any more turned on. 

"Did I say you could touch yourself, sweetheart?" 

Innocent eyes looked up and she shook her head no but didn't let up from sucking her prize. She stopped rubbing herself and continued the task at hand. 

"How wet are you?"

"Very," she whispered. 

"Let me see."

Her hand disappeared from underneath her again and emerged with glistening fingers. 

"Let me taste you baby."

She did just that. She pushed her two fingers in his mouth while her mouth was still attached to his cock. He groaned in approval. She tasted so good. 

His hands reached down and stroked her breasts as she continued. He palmed them first testing their weight then rolled his fingers and thumbs around her nipples. She nodded in approval and continued bobbing her head down his shaft in earnest. Soon his balls clenched and there was no stopping the eruption that followed. Layla sensed it and braced herself as she held him inside her mouth. At the same moment she felt the hot sticky cum flow down her throat her pussy spasmed and she came as well. 

Out of breath but so turned on, she looked up into his sea-foam green eyes. He let out a smile and she reciprocated. 

"That was..." His chest rose and fell erratically. That was by far the best he'd ever had. 

"Yeah." She finished as she caught her breath.

Maybe it was what he felt for this woman, but it had to be a sin to feel this good. His adoring gaze locked on her and he ran his hand over her cheek. He reached over, grabbed some tissues and wiped the corners of her mouth. 

"Climb on top of me." When he uttered those words, Layla swore her pussy clenched in response. That baritone voice ignited something deep within her and without remorse she was insatiable for him. 

She crawled on his lap and slowly lowered herself on his now hardened dick. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she felt every inch of his cock glide inside. God he felt so good. He stretched her to the limit. She bit her bottom lip and slowly rose up and down. 

He grit his teeth and tried to control himself. He held her by her waist and pistoned her up and down. Resting her hands on his shoulders she relished feeling him inside of her. She rubbed his bald head before bringing it to her left breast. She ached to feel his mouth on her hardened nipples. His tongue expertly rolled around the areola and moaned as his tongue quickly flicked the hardened peak. 

Her breath came out in pants and she accelerated her pace. With his mouth still suctioned to her breast, his large hands caressed her ass cheeks and thrust down increasing her speed. Up and down she plunged. 

She threw her head back and arched into him. She was drunk with pleasure, intoxicated in Sean. Her hips rolled and ground into him. His mouth switched to the other breast and with closed eyes offered the same wicked treatment. 

She felt a ball of heat form from deep within her. She was so close she couldn't articulate it. A thin layer of sweat coated her as staccato movements overcame her. Sean looked up into her eyes, but continued sucking her perfect breast when he felt it. The tightening of her walls. She looked like a madwoman frantically slamming herself on his cock searching for her release.

Suddenly his strong hands stilled her hips. He gripped both ass cheeks and slowly ground his pelvis up into hers. 

It was too much. The exquisite feeling was too much for her. 

Her heart and her pussy came crashing down as she gazed into his eyes and he whispered, "I love you." 

She let out a piercing scream. She came so intensely, so fully... her twitching body oscillated on top of him. In a daze from the outer body experience she'd just had, she remained silent.

"Layla?"

...

"Are you ok?" He was almost worried as her lifeless limbs draped carelessly over his. 

A small chuckle emanated from her. "I'm alive, babe. I'm alive."

Sean smiled and ran his hands down her damp back. 

"Can I just say... That was..."

"Just the beginning." His cock was still rock hard inside of her and when she felt it move her hips rolled unconsciously. She didn't think she could take anymore, but her body had other ideas. 

"Tell me you love me."

Layla's surprised eyes rose. Although she felt it for a long time she'd never said the words. "Nope."

"What?"

Acting quickly she jumped up from his lap, let out a squeal as she evaded his grasp and ran to the bedroom. He quickly found his crutches and slowly walked towards the room. Didn't she know it was a bad idea to tempt him? He wasn't sure how much he could contain himself. Injuries be damned.

When he arrived in his room, his resolve almost crumbled. Lying in the middle of his bed, her long smooth legs were spread apart. She was playing with her pussy in one hand while the other fondled her breast. 

"What did I say about touching yourself?" His deep voice was low and menacing.

But she didn't care. She let out a moan and she slipped her fingers in her pussy while her thumb circled her clit. She stared at his perfect body and throbbing cock and that was enough to make a small tremor course through her. He clenched his teeth and felt every nerve on edge. His dick was so hard it felt like it was going to explode.

He lowered himself on the bed and crawled towards her. He hovered over her pussy, but her fingers were still stuck inside.

"Move your fucking fingers out of the way."

She quickly complied and removed the offending digits. 

"If I ever see you touch what's mine without my permission..." His deadly gaze said it all.

A sliver of fear rumbled through her and heightened her desire. She was so wet, so hot for him and he hadn't started anything yet. 

His lips lowered to her fleshly legs and he nibbled and kissed every inch. His aquamarine eyes pierced hers as she held her breath afraid to move. He bit her thigh and she squirmed when the pleasure became too much. In response he pushed two fingers inside of her pretty pussy and slowly stroked in and out. 




Duplicity Ch. 18



Her juices flowed. Sean spread her legs farther apart and licked up and down her slit. She tasted so good, like tangy honey. And she was all his. Every part. He devoured her essence and delved into her soft folds. His finger stroked her insides at a steady rhythm and he took his time enjoying inch of her. 

She squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to tamper the overwhelming pleasure. She rubbed his bald head as she stared at him bringing her pleasure. The smoothness of his head simply heightened the experience. Suddenly, his mouth latched onto her clit and she felt her body convulse as she came loudly. He murmured a sound of approval and continued to suck and lick to prolong her orgasm. She spasmed again and felt her body still. One last kiss and he looked onto her eyes. 

She exhaled and confessed, "I love you too." She bit her lip shyly and he could almost detect a crimson tinge on her cheeks.

He chuckled. She was so damn cute. "Finally, damn! Does this mean I have to go down on you every time just to hear you say it?" 

She slapped him playfully and let out a giggle. "Maybe." 

"Oh yeah?" 

Before she could respond he plunged inside of her in one fell swoop. She wrapped her arms around him and held onto dear life as he thrust inside of her at a slow and steady speed. She was becoming his addiction. Her legs wrapped around his muscular ass as she pulled him closer. He never let up his rhythm as he continued to piston in and out of her. 

His forehead beaded with sweat and he clenched his teeth. "Baby, can I?" he forced out.

She quickly nodded, "I'm on the pill."

Suddenly he stopped his movements. Relishing the feeling, he ground his pelvis against hers in small tight circles. His face contorted and he let out a growl as he came deep inside of her. Her feminine walls clenched and milked the last of him. Thoroughly branding her as his, he let out a contented sigh. 

No words were exchanged; none were needed as they lay intertwined in each others arms.

After a couple of minutes, Sean settled on the bed and she nestled her head on his chest. Her fingers skimmed his chest and absently traced his tattoos as they swirled around in patterns. She was still memorizing every inch of him; there was still so much to learn. Every day was a gift, one that she didn't plan on wasting. 

As though reading her thoughts he asked, "What do you think about leaving some of your stuff here?" He played it off just in case she thought it was too soon to move in together; he didn't want to spook her.

Layla looked at him in surprise. She was beyond excited at the prospect but didn't want to seem too eager. "Mmm like what?"

Sean chuckled. "I don't know. Anything you want. That way when you stay here you'll have all your shit handy."

"Who says I want to stay here?" 

"The fuck? You know you want to stay here with me."

Layla pursed her lips and shrugged nonchalantly.

Suddenly he tickled her right below her ribs. A spot he inadvertently found was her weakness. She let out a shriek and squirmed all over the bed. She finally begged him to stop and he obliged. 

"Reach in the first drawer over there." When she did she found a key. 

"For you. I want you to think of this place as your home too. That is if you want."

She kissed him. "Yes of course I want to, silly. You sure you're not going to get sick of having all my 'shit' around?"

Sean shook his head. "Nope, I'll never get tired of you... or this ass." He squeezed it for good measure. He caressed and dipped his finger seeking out her pussy.

"Mmm... That feels good," she whispered, "but you're going to have to give me a little time to recuperate." She gave him a kiss and relaxed by his side and continued to trace his tattoos, mesmerized by the designs. 

"You have so many tattoos. I never really liked them before you. One day you're going to have to tell me what they all mean. Like this one... this is my favorite one."

When she ran her hands down the left side of his chest, he let out a deep sigh. 

"What does it mean?" She asked.

"It's in Sanskrit; it translates as, 'For darkness heals what the light cannot.'"

Layla looked thoughtful for a moment. 

Sean gave her a soft kiss. "There is a lot I have to eventually tell you, but... I don't know what will happen when I bring that shit back up."

"Have you ever... thought about talking to someone about it?"

"I thought about it, especially with this job offer on the table. That's part of the reason I haven't accepted it yet. If I'm going to help other veterans conquer their demons then I have start with myself. Lead by example, you know?"

"That's so good babe, I'm proud of you. Do you have anyone in mind?"

"There's a therapist I've heard of. I might give her a call. Everyone says she's the best. I think her name is Dr. Grant or Brent something like that."

Layla stretched, got off of the bed and walked towards the living room. She came back into the room with his phone. 

"Here."

"What... now?"

She shrugged. "Why not now?"

He took a deep breath and flipped through his phone, did a search and quickly found her web site. He dialed the number and after answering some questions, he secured an appointment with Dr. Alysia Barent.

Layla beamed when he was done. "I didn't think you'd actually book an appointment. I'm impressed."

"Well you can be very convincing when you're naked."

She let out a chuckle. "I'll keep that in mind."

"So I'm handling my business, how's yours doing?" 

"It's coming along. Everything with the flower shop is falling into place and I think we'll have the grand opening in a couple of weeks."

"Good. Well your crippled boyfriend will be there front and center." 

She kissed him and whispered, "If my cripple boyfriend can pleasure me like today, then I'm not complaining." 

He ran his hands up her back and neck. Suddenly his phone rang and he groaned. 

"Who is it?" 

"Don't know don't care. I'll call them back later." 

Layla rose from the bed and placed his crutches within reach on the bed. Then she walked towards the bathroom to start a soothing hot bath for them. "Coming?"

Sean's lascivious grin from earlier reappeared. "Can't wait."

______

**Hello my peoples- Sooo it's looking like it'll be one more chapter of Duplicity and that's it. I know, I can't freaking believe it either! :P Many of you have commented about wanting more Sean and Layla scenes. There was just sooo much going on that it was hard to do in this story. So I wanted to get your opinion on this, I was thinking of writing a Sean and Layla sequel. I have a couple of ideas for a sequel if you guys are interested. Let me know if you think it's worth it or if you think I should just move on to different characters.??