Trust Me (75 page)

Creighton flipped on a light switch as they entered, bathing the room in a soft glow, not the usual bright lights most rooms had. It was a
large room with an oversized king bed, four thick metal posts with a crisscross patterned headboard and footboard. There were two small metal tables on either side of the bed each with a glass lamp. The floor was covered in a thick brown carpet, a flat-screen television on the wall beside the door with a small credenza beneath. On the wall behind the door was a chair that looked similar to those of the living room, with a floor lamp and a small bookcase filled with books.

A
large walk-in closet with built in dressers, shelves and drawers stood between the bedroom and the bathroom, which held a jetted tub, a toilet, a bidet, a double wall hung sinks and a glass steam shower in the corner. Cream and brown tiles lay across the floor, with dark-brown rugs and towels. A light in the ceiling adjusted so that the bathroom was illuminated in either a soft blue or a bright white, depending on the mood desired.

“Think
you could enjoy living here from time to time?” he asked, obviously proud of his flat and since it was on the very upper floor of the building, there were no neighbors to disturb them.

“It’s
so beautiful,” she said with a warm smile. “Much more modern than I would have assumed you would like. I mean, you’ve bought a Victorian farmhouse, I thought your taste would be more of the antiquity sort.”

“I
told you, I have a very eclectic taste.”

“But
why are there no windows?” she asked, looking around at the exposed, painted white bricks.

“It makes
it much nicer for sleeping and watching movies.”

“I
really love it,” she said as he pulled her into his warm embrace, his arms wrapping around her waist.

“I’m
very happy you do. We will need to stay here while our house is being remodeled and you can use my office to work on your writing.”

“Well,
sir, let’s see where I am going to make my mark as a great children’s author.” Creighton smiled and walked back down the stairs beside her, leading her to their desired destination.

The
room was clean and bright, considering there were no windows in this room, either. The walls were a soft off white; the desk was a large dark walnut, big enough to spread out a multitude of files, papers and documents and held a desktop computer. Two cream and brown colored chairs faced the desk while a comfortable cream colored leather chair sat waiting for Creighton’s backside. The dark wood floor was covered with a deep pile brown, cream and gold rug that occupied the center of the room with barely a four inch edging of wooden floor to show around it. Two floor lamps stood in the corners behind the desk, a glass and wood bookcase filled with books, ornaments, knick knacks and a number of trophies for polo and cricket sat against the opposite wall.

There
were portraits of Creighton’s family decorating the walls and on the corner of his desk was a photo of Sandra, similar to the one from the newspaper. Sandra frowned and glanced up at him, seeing the soft color cross his cheeks and nose and smiled when he shrugged his shoulders innocently.

“Very
masculine,” she teased him, admiring the comfort and peace of the small room.

“I
didn’t think I’d be sharing it with a wife,” he told her. “I can put out some pink fluffy pillows if you’d like?”

“No
thanks, I rather like the idea of sitting in your chair; maybe I’ll even do it without panties.”

“Wonderful,”
he groaned. “Now I’ll never be able to work in here and not think of that.” Creighton’s phone buzzed and he sighed, removing it from his pocket and pushed the button. He frowned at the message, looking to Sandra as she began to wander around the room.

“I’m
sorry my darling,” he said after returning his phone to his pocket. “I have to leave you now and go to the office. You can stay here or come with me, which ever you would like.”

“If
it’s all the same, I think I’ll stay here. I could use a little me time.” Creighton pulled her into his embrace and kissed her forehead.

“I’ve
been too much for you?” he asked watching the shocked look on her face. “Not a problem, I won’t take it personally. The fridge is fully stocked and there is wine in the cupboard. I shouldn’t be more than about an hour; will that give you enough time without me?”

“More
than enough,” she said.

“Then
relax and make yourself at home. I’ll be back soon and then we’ll go to Yorkshire. Your family should be landing in a few hours and then things are really going to get crazy.” He kissed her passionately for a long moment before sighing and moving out of her arms. They walked together to the front door, where he kissed her again.

“Lock
the door and have fun,” he teased her in a deep husky tone that made her blush again. “Your toys are in the black bag if you want them and I want to know exactly what you did when I get back. If you do anything - outrageous, I want details.” Sandra’s blush deepened causing him to chuckle again. She stood beside the open door as he stepped out, watching him push the button to the lift and waved as he stepped in.

Sandra
stepped back into the flat, shut the door and locked it before leaning against it. She looked around at the furnishings and décor and blushed when she caught sight of the bag he mentioned sitting with the rest of the luggage on the floor. She gathered the bags and headed to the stairs, smiling. She shouldn’t feel happy about marrying a man with this much money, or one who was so outrageously erotic, but she would be a liar if she said she wasn’t at least a little excited about it; if not completely overwhelmed.

An
hour later Creighton returned as promised to find Sandra soaking in a full tub of bubbles, her eyes shut as she dozed beneath the warmth, her iPod playing her favorite jazz from the small speaker as it sat on the vanity nearby; her hair in a clip on top of her head so it wouldn’t get wet, a glass of wine on the tub’s ledge and Miriam’s closed book on the floor. He stood there silently watching her, feeling happier than he ever imagined he would; this young woman made him feel whole, complete. He knew he had taken her body and her emotions to levels she had never gone before and was very proud of her for enduring it, but she had taken him past his boundaries as well. He had never felt love the way he had in her arms, his heart ached for her and his mind was consumed with images of her. He sighed deeply; as much as he wanted to join her, he knew she needed space. He quietly closed the door and stepped back into the bedroom.

Creighton
smiled when he saw their bags sitting at the foot of the bed, knowing she would never have used the toys without him, but secretly hoping she had. He retrieved his laptop and stretched out across the bed overlooking the designs and plans for their home. Providing they could stay on schedule, the house would be ready to move into in six weeks and then they could begin their lives as one.

The
bathroom door opened and Sandra walked through, padding her way across the carpet. Creighton had shut his computer and was napping on the thick soft duvet, his feet bare and hanging across the side of the mattress. Sandra stifled the giggle; she had known him to nap only once since they had met, but he looked so comfortable and relaxed that she didn’t’ want to wake him. Instead, she quietly retrieved her clothes and stepped back into the bathroom, dressing in a simple pair of black jeans, her running shoes and a yellow pullover tee-shirt, before leaving the man to sleep and heading to the large kitchen.

She
found the items she wanted and assembled a plate of crackers, cheese and sliced meat. Taking a bottle of White Zinfandel and two glasses, she quietly went back up to the bedroom, setting them on the bedside table before struggling to open the bottle of wine. She felt like she was all thumbs, no matter how hard she tried she just couldn’t get the stupid cork out. She was quickly becoming frustrated and was about the surrender completely when a warm hand wrapped around hers, taking the bottle from her fingers. Creighton easily popped the cork and handed the bottle back to her.

“Thank
you,” she grumbled, pouring the liquid into the glasses. “I thought you might like a snack before we had to leave.”

“Sounds
good,” he said softly, running his hands through his hair and yawning.

“Are
you still tired?” she asked handing him a glass.

“I
guess the events of the past few days are catching up with me,” he grinned. “Doesn’t matter, though, we can relax all we want on our honeymoon.”

“So
where are we going?” Sandra took the plate and sat cross-legged on the mattress beside him, sipping on her wine.

“What
would you like to do? We can take the yacht out and just soak up the sun; we can go back to Italy and pretend to be tourists, or I'll be happy to show you France like you said you wanted. We can make your secret desire of going on a safari come true, or we can go to a deserted island where you can run around completely starkers the entire time.”

“Do
you really want to know what I’d like to do?” she asked with a shy smile watching the man assemble a sandwich of crackers, meat and cheese. Creighton nodded, popping the concoction into his mouth. “I want to go camping; no money, no hotels, no room service, just you, me and a tent.”

“I
love camping,” he said catching her by surprise. “I like fishing and hiking and sleeping under the stars, but a tent is probably a good idea since I don’t want the birds and squirrels seeing us making love.” Sandra laughed thinking about a scene from The Simpson’s Movie her sister insisted they go see.

“Then
we can go?” she asked hopefully.

“Absolutely
and often, I would love our children growing up to know what the simple life is. My mum and dad used to take us camping every year; it was actually the only time Andrew didn’t whine about the outdoors.”

“Then
France, the yacht and camping?”

“Agreed
and happily so, but our wedding night will be a different subject. I have something special planned for that.”

“Like
what?” she asked with a frown causing him to laugh while he stood up off the bed.

“That’s
a surprise. Now come on, we’re going to be late.” He gathered the plate and bottle of wine together while Sandra took the glasses and followed him.

“I
know; you hate being late,” she teased, listening to his cheerful laughter as they left the room, walking side-by-side down the stairs.

They
set the plate, wine and glasses on the counter in the kitchen, then stepped to the front door. Creighton picked up the small overnight bag he had packed for them of items they would need for their trip to Yorkshire and then slung the black backpack with their toys across his shoulder, turning back to Sandra and smiled.

“Ready?”
he asked and she nodded happily, stepping out of the door in front of him. The nerves had returned and Sandra felt giddy and excited; in less than twenty-four hours, she would be Mrs. Creighton Ashford and her entire life would change forever.

It
was just after four o’clock when Creighton pulled his sleek black Mercedes into the drive of the large Victorian style brown and white home. It was a beautiful place with a wraparound porch and spindled trim. There were four windows looking out onto the world from the upper floor, a large picture window next to the dark-brown front door on the main floor and a cobblestone path that led to the porch, lined in soft pink, red, yellow and purple tulips. Neatly trimmed green hedges decorated the front porch while a white wicker settee and two wooden rocking chairs sat silently waiting for an occupant under the porch’s covering.

To
the left of the front door were two smaller windows, light from inside shining out onto the dark-green grass, neatly mown and trimmed to perfection. The windows were all edged with dark-brown shutters, the roof a matching shake shingle with two large brick chimneys sticking out of the top. Creighton looked across the car interior at the young woman who stared at the home.

“Do
you like it?” he asked, bringing her back to reality.

“It’s
beautiful. It looks very inviting and comfortable.” Creighton smiled proudly.

“That
it is my love, very comfortable and very much home. Come, we’ll get the bags later.” She looked across at him, watching as he stepped out of the car and walked around to her side, opening the door and holding out his hand to help her stand. They had just stepped up the front steps, four in all, when a girl squealed from inside the house.

“Cray,
'tis Cray; he's here!” The front door swung open and a young girl about sixteen ran out throwing her arms around the man’s neck, nearly knocking him off the step. Sandra stepped out of the way and smiled as Creighton hugged the girl, laughing. She was one of the young girls Sandra had seen in the portraits at Chang’s studio a few days before; her hair was long and dark and she was slender with long legs and a very pretty face. She looked very much like her brother, but with just enough differences to make her individual.