Fractured Crystal: Sapphires and Submission (30 page)

“It was something that started in London,” Kris admitted. “When I was first trying to find out something about you
—
anything
—
I realised there was a connection between Stone Enterprises and HBS via Chiado. Not only that, but the fact that they were here... it seemed like an omen, a particularly good one, I hope. I must admit that I became obsessed. I wanted to see everything through: before I got to know you better, it seemed one way to connect to you.”

“And you know me better now?” he asked, a slight smile on his lips, his eyes squinting in the sunlight.

Kris looked thoughtful at this. “You want to know the truth?” she asked. He nodded.

“I don’t think I’ll ever know you. I know lots about you, but... it still feels to me sometimes that the real centre of you evades me.” She shrugged. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Is that a problem?” he asked.

She considered it. The question, so apparently simple, deserved serious thought. Finally, she shook her head. “It bothered me at first
—
it bothered me a lot. But if you were simple to know, I don’t think I’d like you half as much.”

He laughed at this. “The same applies to you, of course.”

“Me?” Kris scoffed at the thought. “I’m very simple by contrast. Pretty much all you see is what you get with me.” Daniel, however, shook his head in contradiction.

“No, that’s not true. After all, am I dealing with a young woman, or an ancient creature half bird? It’s hard for me to tell and that... intrigues me.”

Smiling, Kris raised the glass of juice before her in a mock toast. “Well, here’s to complexity.”

They spent another two days in Lisbon before driving up to Cascais. Kris was a little sad to go, although Daniel had made it clear to her that after he returned to London she was free to spend as much time as she wanted in the city
—
as long as she joined him again in London before too long.

As they drove the twenty miles or so to Cascais, passing the estuary and following the coast as it curved slowly northward, Kris enjoyed the view of the ocean passing to their left. The muddy, dark brown water of the Tagus was slowly transformed into blues and aquamarines. She had been to the small town of Cascais once before, and was intrigued to see whether it matched her memory, becoming more excited as they passed the long, sandy shores of Oeiras and Estoril.

Filipe did not enter the town itself, but rather drove along a hill that looked down over Cascais. Kris gasped when she saw the white-walled, red-roofed villa that reared up above her. Daniel leaned forward, following her gaze with his own eyes.

“Yes, a five-star hotel certainly provides some luxury,” he told her ironically. “But this is my home from home when I’m in this part of the world.”

“This is yours?” Kris asked him, and then immediately felt stupid. Of course it was his.

“Yes. It’s been a while since I’ve been here, though. I always much preferred Cascais to the city. I’ve also got a property out on the Algarve in this part of the world, though to be honest I’m not really sure why I keep that one. It’s one of those things you’re meant to do when you’re wealthy, I suppose.”

“Yeah,” she replied, a tiny bit sarcastically. “It must be really hard for you.”

The villa itself was set in wooded grounds, with a neat, almost English lawn set before the white walls of the main house and inside the sandy stoned perimeter that marked the edge of Daniel’s home. She could not help gawping a little as she came closer to the door, one of the maidservants having come forward to open the door while Filipe started to unload their bags.

The house was clearly built in the grand tradition, and while not utterly massive compared to some of the residences she had seen in the hills about the place, it still managed an impressive six bedrooms, each more of a suite than a simple room, and a swimming pool. The entire villa was a self-enclosed paradise. Perhaps ultimately she preferred the chaos
—
the vitality, even
—
of Lisbon, but for a while she was more than prepared to indulge Daniel’s requirement for some idyllic stasis.

“We can rest for a while,” he told her, “then I’ll take you down to my yacht later.”

She shook her head, looking across the deep blue ocean visible from the bedroom window. “Why did I just know you were going to say that?” she asked.

The marina in Cascais was delightful, set beneath an old fortification and running alongside the streets that led to the old town, part fishing port but also for a long time a summer retreat for the wealthy. Daniel, dressed in light trousers and shirt, led her to his yacht: compared to some of the other boats moored up alongside the shore, it wasn’t too ostentatious, she supposed, and he told her it was a weekend cruiser, with basic amenities suitable for staying aboard for a few days, but still simple enough for him to take it out on his own when he so desired.

“No,” she told him as she climbed aboard and descended to one of the cabins. “Comrie was basic. This is luxury. Take it from me.”

Half an hour later she was enjoying the wind whipping through her long hair, her sunglasses shading her from the sun in her eyes but her body covered only in a small, blue bikini so that her skin could soak up the rays. Daniel was behind her in the pilot’s cabin, taking the boat out further to sea so that they could enjoy some peace and relaxation.

When he finally killed the engine and joined her, she told him: “This really is perfect. Why can’t we live here?”

He laughed, bringing her a glass of white wine. “Yes,” he replied. “It gets me that way sometimes. Unfortunately, I don’t do enough business in Portugal to make it worthwhile, not permanently. Necessity and all that.”

She sighed at that. “Yes, I guess so. Still, it would be good to spend more time out here, wouldn’t it?”

“I’ll say amen to that,” he said, sitting beside her as she sat on the deck of the yacht, watching the distant shore. She had one leg raised, her skin already beginning to turn golden after a few days in the sun, and his arm brushed against it. She extended her thigh sideways a little, opening her legs and turning towards him so that her face looked up to his. He raised an eyebrow as he looked down at her expectant face, her eyes hidden behind her shades. One of his hands brushed against her breast, then paused and returned to the soft fabric, pushing it aside so that her stiffening nipple was exposed.

“It would be a
very
good idea to spend more time here,” he said quietly, lifting his body up as she slowly reclined on the deck.

Over the following two days, she was enjoying herself greatly with Daniel. Something was not entirely right, however. They made love, they went out on his yacht, they enjoyed fine dining in the evenings. There was something that she could not quite pin down, however. When she tried, the afternoon after they had arrived, to draw in her pad, feeling that this would be the time to try and capture some of her thoughts, for some reason the inspiration didn’t quite flow.

Nor was the fault entirely hers, for all that she remembered Daniel’s earlier admonitions that he thought she required more discipline. He had told her that he needed a few days’ break from corporate demands, but she caught him on the phone once in a rather heated exchange. He had not realised it was her coming up behind him at first, and when he had turned round she had been shocked to see the look of livid anger on his face. He managed to bite back the outpourings of vitriol he had prepared for her, no doubt believing her to be one of the house staff, but that look of contempt and anger had disturbed her.

The serpent entered their garden of Eden much more quickly than she had expected, arriving on the evening of the second day at Cascais.

Kris was in the bedroom, having just bathed and preparing herself for the evening meal. Daniel had insisted that she wear the sapphire necklace that he had bought her, and she was sitting naked before her dressing table, admiring it as it hung between her breasts, the large stones glittering in the sunlight that came through the window. She had just applied a little Hermes perfume, and was enjoying its floral scents, when she heard noise coming from downstairs. Removing the necklace, she placed it back in its box and left it on the top of the table.

Frowning, she turned to the bed and picked up the light, cotton blouse, an Armani as were the matching trousers. She had not bothered to wear panties beneath her trousers while they were in such a warm climate, and increasingly she had not bothered with a bra, but she also realised that she had no idea who had come to visit Daniel, and the sight of her voluptuous breasts beneath the sheer fabric of her shirt would perhaps not be a perfect sight. She wore a light lace bra that, she hoped, would not be too visible, and continued getting ready. Daniel always told her to call on the staff to help, but she preferred to get dressed alone.

Descending the stairs, she went out to the terrace where she heard the sound of talking. To her mild surprise, she saw Felix Coltraine sitting beside Daniel.

She recalled what she had read about Felix. He was considerably older than Daniel, being perhaps closer in age to Ronald Briskin. An article she had come across sketched the relationship between the two men: in the slightly purple prose of its journalism, she had read how the brilliant entrepreneur, Daniel Stone, who had taken Stone Enterprises to record-making profits in such a little time, had called upon the expertise and experience of Felix to help guide the company to a more stable footing.

And here he was, relaxing on a sun chair, one leg crossed over the other. His greying hair was neatly groomed and, as she went out to where the two men were sitting, he stood and faced her, his rather handsome face charming but, she realised, also completely superficial as far as she was concerned.

“Felix decided he would come and join us for dinner,” Daniel explained. Kris wondered if it was just her or there was something slightly wrong about his voice.

“The young lady from the evening at Lincoln Hall, if I remember correctly,” Felix said with an easygoing warmth, extending his fingers to take hers and lifting them to his lips in an act of apparent chivalry. “Daniel, I must say that you’ve exceeded yourself. Why have you been hiding this beauty from us?”

Kris blushed at this, but she was sure that the merest hint of a scowl passed across Daniel’s face. Nonetheless, he pulled himself together and replied: “Oh, I’ve always been one for keeping the brightest lights under a bushel
—
that way I can appreciate them all to myself.”

“Oh, you should share much more,” was Felix’s response. Taking this as simple gallantry, Kris felt herself redden even more but said: “It’s an awfully long way for you to come and join us for a meal, isn’t it?”

Felix raised his hands in an expression of mock resignation. “Unfortunately, there was business that required settling
—
though in any case who would not prefer to conduct business here than in back office in Canary Wharf?”

“I’m sorry,” Kris said. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“Not at all, not at all,” the older man replied. Something about his manner, however, told him that the conversation was already passing for him. Daniel picked up on the atmosphere as well. Standing, he placed one hand on Felix’s arm and started to guide him inside. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly to Kris as the two men passed her by. “Something has come up. We’ll see you at dinner.”

Kris nodded, and sat down on the seat that Daniel had just vacated. The sensation of something not quite being right would not leave her and, after sitting down for just twenty minutes or so, she became restless.

Standing, she went into the interior of the villa. One of the maids was passing through to the kitchen and Kris asked her in Portuguese how long it would be until they were due to eat, receiving the answer that Daniel had asked for dinner to be prepared in the next hour.

Slightly at a loss, Kris realised that she could hear the sound of talking coming from the door leading to a study and conference room, one which Daniel had not had reason to use during their visit thus far, but into which he had evidently led Felix. Looking around, to ensure that the maid was no longer anywhere in sight, she placed her ear to the door.

“...it’s bloody stupid,” she heard Felix talking, his voice angrier than she would have expected. “You’ve been making some reckless decisions recently, and it’s getting harder and harder for me to justify them to the board, Daniel.”

This was followed by a lower response, the voice obviously Daniel’s though she could not make out the words. “We can put up with your occasional disappearance,” Felix responded. “But for God’s sake, Daniel, snap out of it. This stupid bitch may remind you of your wife, but you’ve got to get over that and stop wasting your time on a bit of fluff.”

Shocked, Kris drew back, reconsidering whether to eavesdrop any more. Deciding that, after all, she did not wish to hear any more, she went up to her bedroom. When Daniel joined her half an hour later, he found her seated by the dressing table, stroking the necklace while she looked out of the window absent-mindedly. He bent to kiss her, and the way she jumped made it clear that she had not heard him enter but had been many miles away in her mind.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.