The Bound Bride (6 page)

He sat back and snapped his fingers.

“Quick. Favorite opera?”

She could answer the question. Easily
La Boheme
. A chance encounter. Doomed from the start. But
what
love before fate and disease reared their heads. It was too obvious. In every way.
La Boheme
was beautiful. But clichéd. She had to be smarter if she was to plead her case.

“
Peter Grimes
.”

Oliver surveyed her with a bemused stare.

”Really? Why?”

She had to talk fast.

“Because… because it’s… it’s a story of one man against impossible circumstances.”

Oliver’s face went vacant. Cassandra was terrified that she had done the wrong thing. And for the first time, it wasn’t about the money. She felt as if she had struck where she could hurt. And she hated what she had done.

Thankfully, his smile returned. He set his glass down and slapped his hands together.

“Nice. Already on my page.”

Cassandra drank again. He liked what she was saying. He liked her.

Oliver reached for her face. His hand was warm and hard against her skin. Cassandra fixed her stare on all of his face. She could see the lines starting to form around his eyes. They were wrought with obvious worry. But she didn’t know where the anguish came from. A part of her was too scared to comprehend the source.

Cassandra caught all of the sadness. Something had happened to him. Something that forced him to
lease Ladies
on a website when he was obviously able to turn
actual
heads outside of the virtual realm with his money and his power. And his
looks
. She could imagine him as a boy. But he was more attractive as a
man
.

Oliver was on his feet. He eased Cassandra to his side. She forgot what was left of her beer.

He was
beautiful.

Oliver held her hand.

“I like what you have to say, Cassandra. Care to join me at a party?

Cassandra could think of nothing else.

Chapter Eight

The lobby of the Met was cavernous. Space reaching into infinity and every inch a staircase. Cassandra feared discovery in her borrowed bridesmaid’s gown. She had no business among the well-to-do. Someone would find her out in an instant and point her back towards her hole before she had the chance to defend herself. She was nearly rushing back to the chill of the night when Oliver pressed her closer.

“Easy,” he said. “You’re with me.”

That
was all she needed to hear.

He moved her through the crowd of the supremely well-dressed and shook hands, slapped backs with a sure smile. Cassandra could feel the eyes on her. She blushed as ladies bowed their heads and
gentlemen
scanned her entire frame. Under normal circumstances, normal meaning some absurd contrivance where she found herself just below the world’s greatest soprano, Cassandra would be too excited to do anything but giggle in the face of the fortune tossed her way. She imagined Iris at her side as they played like real ladies and giggled at the Botox in their midst before settling in for the show. But she was with
him. Cassandra was purchased arm candy. He required her sweet and silent as he showed his face to the crowd.

Or
did
he?

They were cornered by a short man. The lady on
his
arm towered over all of them.

“Oliver!” the short man started. “So good
to see you. Been meaning to ask you about the Prince account. Any ideas?”

Cassandra was focused on the little man’s wide eyes. She waited for Oliver’s voice to fill the silence, but she heard nothing. She turned her head to him saw him staring straight ahead. But his focus seemed everywhere else. Cassandra gently nudged him to answer the question. Oliver started at her touch and met her with a slight glare. Cassandra nodded at the one with the questions. When Oliver remained lost in her eyes, Cassandra sighed and turned to the little man.

“
Everything
he touches
is solid.”

Even out of place, Cassandra could talk the talk. She twisted her eyes to the little man, and Oliver finally nodded. The little man seemed appeased, and she gripped his am tighter.

Maybe she
could
help him.

Cassandra saw the lady
seeing
Oliver. Her desires were plain. At a second’s
notice she would undoubtedly ditch her smaller companion for the prize at Cassandra’s side.

Not so fast.

“So
nice
to see you again,” the lady purred. She moved forward and lightly kissed Oliver’s cheek. Cassandra could feel him tense at the touch, and she stepped in between the lady and her intended target.

“
Isn’t
he?” Cassandra knowingly asked. “I
love
to see him.”

She was drafted for the task at hand. Interlopers were
not
welcome.

“And who are
you
?” the tall lady asked.

She was found out. There was no stopping it. Cassandra felt cheap under her gaze, but she resolved to not stay in that state.

“I’m an opera lover,” Cassandra said. “How did you get here?”

The tall lady was too stunned to respond. Good. Cassandra had thrown her off her choreographed game. Cassandra had images of her leaving her little man, night after night, for someone else’s bed in the hope of snaring Oliver. But it wasn’t his style. Oliver wanted to know what he was getting. He’d pay to make sure.
That
was Cassandra’s role for the evening. And she’d play it for all it was worth.

Cassandra glanced over her shoulder. Oliver’s attention had drifted from the uninvited guests and was completely on
her
. She liked his eyes there, and she wanted to seal the deal.

“
Excuse
me?” the tall lady asked.

Cassandra wrapped her arm around Oliver’s waist.

“So sorry! We have to dash. The show’s starting.”

She could feel him tighten against her touch, and she led Oliver from the pair with a light giggle. Oliver stayed stiff under her arm until they reached the top of the staircase. The tall lady was already departing from the reach of the little man. Cassandra surveyed the scene with total triumph.

Oliver pulled her closer to him. Cassandra felt his arms around
her
waist. She could understand nothing in his stare and silently worried that she’d made the wrong move. Were they
more
important than she had imagined and therefore worthy of his attention? She shouldn’t have dragged him away from them.

He finally smiled.

“Thanks,” he said.

Cassandra started to relax.

“For what?”

“For getting them off my back. I’m not here for Gene and Tammi.”

Now she knew their names. She’d remember every second
of the evening. He wasn’t here for them.
Good
.

“I… you’re welcome.”

She was already starting to feel in sync. Maybe not with all he was. But she was rising to the moment. He wanted distractions from the Genes and Tammi’s of the world. She could do that.

Oliver pulled a piece of her fallen hair back behind her ear.

He wanted
her
.

She could fill the void.

As the crowd murmured below and the house lights flashed, Cassandra was seized by the need to know him better. She raised her face to his and lightly kissed his lips. She expected Oliver to pull her closer and take her before the curtain rose. Even if she wasn’t on the clock, it would be hard to resist the promise of his body. Oliver didn’t press her to the ground. He kissed her brow and led her away from the entire scene.

The balcony was theirs alone. Private. Naturally. Oliver saw that she was settled in her seat and reached under his own for a chilled bottle of wine. He pried it open and retrieved two matching glasses before he started to pour. Cassandra sniffed the crushed grapes and waited for Oliver to make the next move.

He extended his glass in the promise of a toast.

“To… whatever comes next.”

She
loved
the sound of it. There was the suggestion that this one night was not a fixed contract, paid for and forgotten in the light of morning. Something else was happening. Cassandra could drink it in and forget her precarious financial situation. He obviously had the funds to keep shelling out endlessly. Maybe the worry over her rent would soon be at thing of the past. She welcomed the possibility. Iris would be ecstatic at her right
call.

But Cassandra was already feeling something else.

Even in his seat, Oliver Chambers was long and lean. Cassandra imagined him
out
of his suit, his skin against hers. But he hadn’t taken her on the stairs. He wouldn’t take her here. If it came, when it came, it would be later. Cassandra should just sit back and enjoy the show in anticipation.

She raised he glass.

“To whatever comes next.”

She swallowed the wine in one go and choked on the flow. Oliver’s hands found her back as she coughed.

“Just breathe.”

He eased her through it, and Cassandra couldn’t help but fall against his shoulder as air reentered her lungs. Oliver patted her back.

“Okay?” he asked.

Cassandra nodded without words. Oliver emptied his glass and topped them both off with a smile.

“Hope you like Puccini.”

She did. She had lied.
Peter Grimes
was a masterpiece, but it wasn’t her favorite
.
She had a soft spot for the simplest, most tragic love story in the repertoire. That wasn’t on the bill tonight. But she’d take the melodies and intrigue of
Tosca
and delight in his closeness.

The conductor took the podium to thunderous applause. Cassandra set her glass beside her feet and had to clap with the others. She saw Oliver finish his drink with another smile as the orchestra came to life. As she had with her wine, Cassandra drank in the music, let it soak into her soul. She was on edge for the love duet when she felt Oliver’s hand in hers.

Their eyes met.

He was broken. She could see that in his stare. Whatever was in the past leaked into their present. Cassandra wanted to hold all of him close and focus on the music with the assurance that everything would be okay. She forgot how she had come to his side and believed in fate. She was broke. He had infinite amounts of cash on hand. She was waiting for the payment. He had all the time in the world. She was playing a part. He was living his life.

Yet she had to wonder how many other girls had filled this role.

Cassandra wanted to be the last in the line.

Oliver touched her face, smoothed her hair. She understood contented
under his hands. There
had
been other girls. Cassandra wasn’t a fool. But maybe her feet could reach the next step. It was a place that the tall lady could only dream of. And now Cassandra was approaching the threshold.

“You… you are
supremely
lovely,” he said.

That was enough.

Cassandra folded her arms around his neck and pressed him even closer. Oliver seemed eager for the next step, and Cassandra wrapped him into a kiss and tried to show him that
he
was lovely. Lovely because he was stunning in every way. More so because she he needed someone close. Cassandra wanted to be that someone.

His kiss was light and short. Cassandra was surprised that he turned his head away so quickly. But
why
? He had told her that she was lovely; he had found excuses to touch her. So what had gone wrong?

She started to speak as he took her hand and turned her face towards the stage.

“Just listen to the music, Cassandra.”

“I…”

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

There was no arguing about that. The tenor rhapsodized about the virtues of his lover with a fervor that made Cassandra blush. She could still feel Oliver’s fingers curling about her hand. Beyond that sensation, she was transported to another place. It was a world of desperate desire with the danger just lurking in the wings. But Cassandra wasn’t afraid. She welcomed whatever dwelled on this new terrain.

As the audience applauded the tenor’s efforts, Cassandra could feel Oliver’s eyes focused on something else entirely. She turned her head. He might be listening to the music as well. But he was only watching the action at his side.

“Is something wrong?” she breathlessly asked.

His lips unfolded into a soft smile.

“Not a thing.”

“But why aren’t you—?”

“I want to
see
you enjoying it.”

Cassandra struggled to leave his gaze. But she did as she was told and turned her attention back to the performance. To enjoy it now was not the easiest of feats when she felt as if she was performing for him. It was a kind of acting. Cassandra realized she
had
the talent. And she silently vowed not to let him down. Under any circumstances.

The act proceeded under her anxious eyes. A lovers’ duet and a villain’s solo passed before her in glorious chords. A small part of Cassandra couldn’t help but be transfixed. But most of her soul was wrapped up in Oliver’s eyes and the mystery of
just what he
wanted. It couldn’t just be to expose her to the music.