Hearts of Glass (The Glass Trilogy Book 3) (16 page)

“If I weren’t fucked up, baby, you’d find me boring.” He tilted me forward. “Now that’s a very pretty sight, that little pink rosebud and that juicy wet cunt ripe for fucking.”

I gasped, feigning shock at his bad language. “You shouldn’t use crude words like that, Daniel,” I warned, hardly in a position (ha, ha) to make demands.

“I never pretended to be a gentleman. What you see is what you get. You don’t have to go through with this union if you don’t want to. Are you in or out?”

I laughed. “More to the point, are
you
in or out?”

“You want me in?” His hands held my hips still and his tongue swept up my wet opening. I moaned. Here we go again, I thought. I was still sore. This was madness. This man was madness, and I was obviously deranged for loving him so hard.

My view was upside down, my head on the sand as I peeked backwards between my legs. His shirttails were askew, his dress pants on, but the fly undone, his cock sticking out.

“This is going to hurt, baby,” he said, ramming into me. It did hurt, but I welcomed the pain. I was his vessel and had no choice but to either scream for help and have him arrested for rape, or surrender to this onslaught of . . . of . . . overload. Yes, overload. Thanksgiving stuffing being crammed into a too small, bound-up turkey. Why was I enjoying this so much? What was wrong with me?

“Who are you?” I panted as he pumped me without mercy. His shaft reaching my G-spot and bringing me an overwhelming ache to climax—it wasn’t long off now. This position was a welcome surprise. “I don’t even know you,” I groaned. I was helpless. At the mercy of this sudden stranger.

“I’m Finn,” he rasped into my back. “Your Dominant. Remember? Your co-star for
The Dark Edge of Love
? It isn’t called the ‘dark edge’ for nothing, baby. So get used to it ’cause rehearsals have just begun.”

25

Janie.

W
HENEVER I DRINK alcohol I wake up, either in the middle of the night, desperate with thirst and can’t get back to sleep, or very early in the morning. It was now five a.m. I glugged down nearly a liter of mineral water while Daniel slept conked out by my side. I felt antsy. Nervous about the wedding today, both excited and worried about my future with this man.

My wrists and ankles were lightly bruised. Not too bad because the handcuffs were softly lined, but still, I didn’t feel like the typical bride on her wedding day, knowing what had happened last night. The “damage” between my legs hurt less than I had expected. Maybe I was getting used to his savagery? Hmm, worrying. Was he really just acting out a part? Or was this the secret Daniel, revealing his true nature, little by little? Was marrying him a risk? He certainly behaved like he owned me, yet he reveled in my independent spirit and feistiness and wanted me to be my own person. A contradiction. An anomaly. But then that was Daniel Glass in a nutshell. And whatever madness lurked inside him, whatever darkness, I was hopelessly in love with him and could never even imagine being with anyone else.

Last night we hadn’t gotten around to my revelation/confession. After he’d unlocked each pair of handcuffs and carried me back to our room, he collapsed on the bed. He, too, was drunker than he thought. I took off his shoes and dress pants, covered him with the sheet, and he hadn’t stirred since.

With one eye on him now, I slithered out of bed, padded to the bathroom, and closed the door so as not to wake him. Showered. Brushed my teeth, slipped on a simple shift dress and quietly left the room. A walk on the beach to welcome the sunrise would be good meditation, I decided. Anything to prolong the inevitable. I was dreading his wrath all over again. Today was the wedding; there’d be no time for games or hanky-panky or even make-up sex. I had to fix things between us. And fast.

It was dark outside, the horizon brushed with a pale peach, but no sun yet. Still a few stars in the violet sky. I saw a lone figure striding along the beach. I was about to turn in the opposite direction but realized it was Daisy. I still missed our therapy sessions, even though she had pronounced me “quite cured” and strong enough to “move on alone.”

The squeaky white sand was cool beneath my bare feet, the air breezy but not cold. I made my way over to her until she spotted me.

“Shit, you scared the living daylight out of me,” she said with a start, her classy British accent even making the word ‘shit’ sound elegant.

“Sorry, couldn’t sleep.”

“That makes two of us.”

We sat down on the sand and gazed at the lapping waves. The water was a shimmering turquoise, clearer than a swimming pool even so early in the day.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” I asked her.

She raised a ginger eyebrow. Her curly red hair was wild and unkempt, her nose already brushed with freckles from the sun despite only being here two days. I always thought of Daisy as rather beautiful. Irish roots. Pale skin, and big blue eyes. When I first met her she was a lot more curvy, but I noticed that she’d lost quite a bit of weight. She was still single—her husband had cheated on her way back when. I always wondered why she hadn’t met someone special since him.

“I spent the night with Daniel’s friend Jesse last night.”

“No!” I squealed with girly delight. I’d barely even noticed him at dinner, he’d hardly said a word. “Well, he’s very handsome, but obviously the strong silent type.”

“Strong, yes. Not so bloody silent in the sack, I can tell you.”

“So what are you doing up? Why aren’t you still in bed with him? Oh right,” I remembered, “Amy.”

“No, Amy had a pajama party with Pearl’s kids last night, it wasn’t that.”

“So, you snuck out?”

“He’s bloody intense. Shags like a runaway train.”

“So it was worth it, then? Or . . . not sure if that’s a compliment or not . . . the runaway train bit.”

“Great one night-stand, but no, I can’t get into a relationship right now, I can’t risk getting hurt again.”

“But Daisy, it’s been
years
since you had something serious, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, and I’m all the better for it. Enough about me. What about you? Nervous? Excited? Daniel’s besotted with you. It’s written all over his face.”

“He’s . . . it’s . . . I can’t explain. He’s wrong in so many ways, but I’m in love with him, so what can I do?”

Daisy dug her feet into the sand. “Well, yeah, I haven’t forgotten you droning on and on about him when you were doing
Where The Wind Blows.
”

“That bad?”

“A broken record.” She laughed. “Just joking. Of course I didn’t feel that way about you, I was your therapist, but now we’re friends I’m allowed to tease, aren’t I? Don’t lose your sense of self though, Janie, your autonomy. You know what Pearl once told me? And I’ve never forgotten it—advice from her dad. He told her, ‘Pearl, whatever happens, whatever you do, even if you end up with someone wealthy, you always need to have your own ‘fuck-you’ money. Money that’s just yours that you can do what you like with. Women need to have their own fuck-you money at all times. You never know when you’ll need to catch a plane or treat yourself to something special.’ I memorized those words and they’ve served me very well.”

“He’s right,” I agreed. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Despite Daniel’s wealth, I was determined to continue working, no matter what. I loved my independence and knew that he was the type of person who could devour a woman if she didn’t hold her own. I would never let that happen to me.

We sat there, watching the waves in silence, my mind turning over the events of the past few weeks.

“Something’s plaguing you, Janie. What?” After all those years of therapy with Daisy, she knew me so well.

I told her everything that had happened while Daniel was in his coma. Kristin arranging for me to be locked up, the lab break-in with Sophie and Elodie, the tortured animals, the fact that I hadn’t told Daniel because I didn’t want to rile him up, that the doctor’s had warned me to keep him calm.

Daisy frowned. “That’s a big burden you’re carrying on your shoulders. A bloody big secret to be keeping from him, especially when he was quite the protagonist, and especially when he’s about to be your husband.”

“What do you mean, ‘protagonist?’ ”

“Well, he was unaware—out cold—but all the drama centered around him, so don’t you think he has a right to know? Especially as you’re about to walk down the aisle with him.”

I felt myself biting my lip. “I know. You’re right. I should get back to our room now and face the music.”

“Yes, you should.” She was quiet for a beat, a smile smoothing away her frown. “So what’s your gown like?”

“A really simple white linen dress. Nothing swanky. I figure I want Daniel to see just me, not my outfit, not my hair and makeup. Just me: Janie. Barefoot. We’re having our ceremony on the beach, Tahitian style. On the beach with a Polynesian priest, in front of an altar decorated with local flowers, under the coconut trees.”

“Sounds perfect,” Daisy said. “Can’t wait.” The waves splashed our feet, washing up tiny pebbles and shells that glinted in the dim dawn light. I could hear the heavy crash of more distant waves on the barrier reef. This place was paradise. “Well, as much as I’d love you to stay and watch the sunrise with me,” she continued, “you’d better get back to Daniel or he’ll think you’ve done a runner on him. Good luck. And if you need a hand with any of the arrangements, call me.”

“The hotel’s doing everything. My only job is to show up.”

“Clever you. My wedding was a nightmare,” Daisy admitted. “Stress City. Planet Stress, actually. Wish I’d had your foresight. By the way, isn’t Star Davis meant to be coming? Or is that just rumor?”

“They came in late last night. You’ll meet her and Jake today.”

“Well, I hope the paparazzi haven’t got wind of it or it’ll be a total fiasco.”

“They checked in under a different name and Star’s unrecognizable right now. She’s playing a lesbian boxer in her next movie and looks like a boy. Her long blond locks have been hacked off.” I stood up. “Thanks for the pep talk, Daisy. I’ll remember that advice about the fuck-you money, too.”

“See you later alligator.” She grinned. “Sorry, that’s what comes of being a mom.”

“In a while crocodile. I look forward to having kids, it must be fun.”

“Really, you’re ready? You’re so young still.”

“As soon as
The Dark Edge of Love
is done, I’m up for it.” I brushed the sand from my dress, surprised by what I’d just said.
I was ready to have kids? Really?

Yes, yes, I was. I was ready for everything and anything with Daniel Glass.

Except for now. I was nervous about telling him the truth of what had happened when he’d been in his coma. Mainly because of the secrets I’d been keeping from him, rather than the information itself. Secrets guarded far too long. I don’t know what I’d been thinking hiding everything. It seemed the only thing to do at the time, terrified he might go and die on me—fear overriding reason. I hoped all hell wouldn’t break loose.

After all, we had a wedding to attend.

26

Daniel.

I
AWOKE TO an empty bed. Janie gone. Panic spiked my alcohol soaked veins. Drinking like that had been really dumb. I never drank cocktails. A whiskey or a great cognac, yes, but
cocktails
?

She’d changed her mind, obviously. I’d behaved like a fucking asshole last night, playing around with those handcuffs. I’d
spanked
her? Yes, I had, the memory suddenly clear. What had I been
thinking
doing something like that the night before our wedding? Did my outrageous behavior concerning my hungry libido have something to do with my coma? Usually coma patients lose their sex drive, but one of the doctors had warned me that hyper-sexuality, although rare in men or women, is a well documented side-effect of neurologic disease. Lesions of the orbital parts of the frontal lobes may remove moral and ethical self-control and lead to “indiscriminate sexual behavior,” he’d told me.

Hmm, I wondered.

I showered, drank all the water and soft drinks from the mini bar I could lay my hands on, and felt instantly better. It was very early, not even six a.m. Janie’s cell phone was lying by the bedside table—a good sign, she hadn’t packed her stuff. Yet. The idea of us not marrying had me on the bed, head in hands, tears welling in my regretful eyes. I’d fucked her. Not made love to her like my beautiful bride-to-be, but
fucked
her. Defenseless. Handcuffed. What had gotten into me? My mind scrambling for answers, I recalled why I had been so worked up. The conversation at dinner. That’s right, Janie had been harboring secrets.