Elizabeth heard the phone ring as she worked at her computer. She checked the time, ten thirty. He was calling early that night. In the past week, Charles consistently called around midnight. Her heart skipped a beat as she wondered if by chance the caller wasn’t Charles, and instead the call was for her? But she could hear Jane’s voice and knew from her tone it was Charles.
Not that she really expected a call from him. Still, it didn’t mean she didn’t think about it. It was a sweet fantasy she played within her mind. Darcy would call her, his voice rich and soft in her ear, and he would tell her… what? She had trouble there. The fantasy always broke down at the point. Would he tell her he loved her? And that he was on his way to carry her off to his palace? No, he was not Prince Charming, not even in her fantasies. Would he be shy and softly ask how she was? Would he be dirty and involve her in a hot game of phone sex? She tried all of these fantasies, and none of them really fit. The only one that worked, that really made her sweat, was when she imagined she would pick up the phone and his guitar, not his voice, would answer her. Yeah, she liked that. She could see herself grabbing her own Guild and answering him. Telling him, lick by lick, what she wanted and how she wanted it.
The fantasy continued, their playing becoming more intricate and exciting, until they were playing in unison, their music loud and powerful. Then the music would fade away, and he would be there, holding her, growling her name, as he pushed himself into her yielding body. She would take him then, take him into herself and he would fill her, answering that longing, the emptiness she knew for so long.
Elizabeth’s eyes refocused on her computer screen. She licked her lips and fanned herself a little, telling herself that her discomfort was from the July weather, not her imaginings. Besides, he wasn’t going to call. She told herself again and again, like a mantra. It was fun to daydream, but she needed to focus on the here and now.
Yet even as she thought this, she wondered what it would be like to see him again. She had been so angry when that song had started. Angry with him, and if she was being really honest, angry with herself. She was angry because she felt needy and ignored. Then the song started and suddenly she was not being ignored. Elizabeth didn’t need to see his eyes. His music and his mouth were enough. She still trembled slightly at the memory. How had she managed to keep singing? How could she have stopped? Darcy played to her like no one had ever done before. It was as if he directed all the power of his playing at her. The song was just a framework for his message, which was solely her own.
What did he say to her? He wanted her. It was so pure and clear a message that it was almost overwhelming. She cried sometimes at the intense memory of his song. Yet she had never felt that it was too much when they had been together. Together, she could answer him, play with him, and stand with him. Only when she was alone did she feel weak.
She couldn’t even take shelter in the denial that served her throughout the tour. Everything seemed so clear there on the stage. She didn’t understand what happened afterward. The way he kissed her and walked away, as if he played passionate serenades to women every night.
It was his arrogance, she reasoned. He could just walk away because he had made his point. And he had, hadn’t he? Here she was, dreaming about him. Wanting him like any panting fangirl. She hated to admit it, but she’d go to him in a minute if he called and told her “meet me in half an hour.” She hated that he was right and that he knew it.
She remembered George’s warning: “Once he finds something he wants, he gets it.” She hated that Darcy messed with her head throughout their acquaintance. If only she didn’t know the truth about him. If only she didn’t know he could be so cruel. She longed to give herself to him, to trust in him, to let him take her, in every way.
She knew from the way he played, and the way he kissed, it would be explosive. Even now, as she muddled over it all, her nipples were hard. And it was so long since she had gotten laid! She wanted to just push aside all her frustrations and drive to Darcy’s house and submit to him.
It was a good plan, except for two things: One, she didn’t know where he lived, or even where he was; and two, it wasn’t a joke. He had all kinds of power over her, and she didn’t like that one bit.
If he reached out to her, called her, or even emailed her, just to talk to her and let her know he was similarly affected by what happened, she could happily surrender to him, even knowing what George told her. But she knew from his arrogance this was not to be. He might want her, but he didn’t love her. And she had no desire to be his plaything.
Jane answered the phone on the first ring. “Hello?” she said hopefully.
“Hey, beautiful,” replied Charles. His California accent had grown stronger over the week.
“Hi.” He could hear her smiling. “How are you doing?”
“Good. It’s been nice being home, but it will be better to get back to New York.”
“I know one person who will be happy to see you back.”
“Tell me about your day, Jane.”
“It was good. We had our record signing at Tower.”
“Did you have a good turnout?”
“Yeah, we did! I think it was our best ever!”
Charles relaxed as he listened to her voice and walked along the beach. As Jane told him about meeting her fans, he could easily picture her face, and the pain he felt at missing her was briefly dulled.
He knew the pain was a message, his heart’s way of telling him what he needed to do.
“Is that the ocean I hear?” Jane asked.
“It is,” he smiled back to her. “I wanted to be alone when I called, so I walked to the shore.”
“Oh,” Jane said. “Is your house close to the water?”
“Yes, I have a house near Muir Beach.”
“Where is that?” Jane asked, clearly delighted.
“It’s near Sausalito. It’s a nice little town. It’s remote, but I love it here.”
“It sounds nice,” she said guardedly.
Charles made up his mind. Enough was enough. He was tired of this, of them pussyfooting around each other. He was going to tell her the truth when he got back to her and hope that she would accept it. “Jane,” his voice reflected his determination. “I need to talk with you.”
“Of course,” Jane said. “Is something wrong?”
“I have to tell you something, Jane, in person. Not over the phone.”
“Is it bad?” she whispered.
“Yes, it’s bad,” he said sadly.
“Charles, whatever it is, you can tell me.”
“Jane, I will tell you, just not now. Not on the phone.”
“So, you are coming back tomorrow?” she said bravely.
“Yeah, we’re flying out of here around eight in the morning, we’ll be getting into JFK at four thirty.”
“Do you want me to meet you at the airport?” she offered.
“Oh, don’t bother,” he said tiredly. “We’re going to have the limo take us right to the apartment.”
“I could meet you there.”
Charles sighed. He had been avoiding this. “You can’t. I’ll have to get cleaned up, and then we’re expected at a De Bourgh party.”
“We?”
“Slurry.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry, Jane. Believe me, I would take you if I could, but it’s a media thing. We’re going to be seen and photographed before the VMAs. All the big De Bourgh names will be there.” He sighed, tired with the charade he was playing. “Jane, look, tomorrow is just not going to work, but I promise, we’ll see each other on Tuesday, and we’ll talk then.”
“Charles, what’s wrong? You sound so down. Tell me what’s going on, please.”
Charles let the ocean water wash over his feet. He could hear the frustration in her voice. “I know, Jane. I’m sorry. There’s a lot of stuff going on here, and I promise as soon as I see you, I’ll explain it all.”
“Yeah, when it’s convenient for you,” she sulked.
“Jane, please try to understand.”
“Charles, you haven’t given me anything to understand.”
Charles could see Caroline waving to him from the house. “I’m sorry, Jane. Just hang on two more days, and I’ll explain it all.”
“Okay,” Jane said dully.
“I have to go; bye, Jane.”
“Bye, Charles,” she answered and hung up. He frowned at the dial tone coming from his phone and then hurried up the beach.
Darcy sighed as he entered his loft. He dragged his Pullman case into the bedroom and dropped onto his bed. It was still early in the day, just as it had been early when he left Paris eight hours earlier, but he was exhausted. Sleeping on the plane had not worked, so he tried to read, but mostly he found himself thinking about her. In his mind he kissed her a hundred times. She was receptive and eager. He held her close, and together they pleasured each other again and again. His favorite image was one in which he entered her room, to find her wearing only her Gibson and a smile.
Tomorrow, he told himself. Tomorrow he would see her again, then he would know how to act. So many times he had picked up the phone to call her, he even had an email draft ready to send. But he wasn’t certain. Words with her were still hard. He didn’t trust himself not to say the wrong thing.
Playing to her was a completely different story. Tomorrow he would play to her, and she would know what he felt, what he wanted.
Darcy heard the elevator stop at his floor. Georgiana was on her way to Pemberley, so this could only be one other person. He recognized Richard’s footsteps as they entered the gallery.
“Will,” he called out.
“In here,” Darcy said, sitting up.
Richard entered Darcy’s bedroom. “How was Paris?” he asked easily.
“Great,” Darcy answered. “Georgie had a good time.”
“Good, good.”
“How was Hazelden?” Darcy asked, his tone a shade darker.
Richard shrugged. “Good,” he replied simply.
Darcy respected Richard’s privacy. After Georgiana’s graduation the previous Saturday, Richard surprised them by telling the Darcys he would not be joining them on their river cruise of Paris. Instead he would return to the clinic where he was treated for alcoholism. Richard’s decision greatly relieved Darcy; it meant that his cousin was facing his problems himself and was perhaps ready to do something about it.
“Will you be going back?” Darcy asked.
“That depends.”
“On the VMAs?”
Richard nodded. “Before I can really work out why I’m… doing this, I need to get things straight with her, but I can’t do that to Charlotte until I’ve gotten myself together.”
Darcy regarded Richard uneasily. “Sounds like a catch-22 situation.”
Richard nodded. “One day at a time, that’s all I can do.”
Darcy nodded. “I’m going to try to sleep before tonight.”
“What time is the party?”
“Eight o’clock.”
“Okay, I’ll wake you in time.”
Richard closed the door, and Darcy stripped off his clothes, climbed into his cool bed, and enjoyed the vision of Elizabeth and her guitar.
Elizabeth was worried. Jane looked like a wreck and moped in her room all day. Elizabeth had never seen her like this, and it was late in the day before Jane would talk about it.
“It’s Charles.”
Elizabeth guessed as much. That he was due back in New York today and Jane wasn’t seeing him clearly signaled that something was wrong.
“He told me he needs to talk to me about something important when he gets back.”
“Did he say what?”
“No, he wouldn’t talk about it over the phone,” Jane said sadly, looking at the floor. “I think he means to break up with me.”
A week ago, Elizabeth would have said that was crazy, but the week had been long and hard on both of them, and Elizabeth had become cautious. Nevertheless, she did not want Jane to worry. “Jane, I really don’t think he would do that, do you?”
“I don’t know,” Jane said softly. “He’s been sounding so down and unlike himself over the phone, and he said it was something bad.”
“Maybe it’s not you. Maybe it’s something totally different that’s bad, and it’s been getting to him.”
“Then why wouldn’t he tell me?” she asked, her eyes begging for hope.
“I don’t know, Jane,” Elizabeth said, putting her arm around her sister’s shoulder. “But I do know there is no sense in worrying about it. There’s nothing we can do but wait, right?”
Jane nodded. “I know,” she smiled weakly at Elizabeth, “I’m trying.”
Elizabeth tried to smile back but found it hard in the face of her sister’s obvious pain. She squeezed Jane tight, then heard Lydia calling to her from downstairs. “Lizzy! Phone call!”
Elizabeth reached over and picked up Jane’s extension. “Hello?”
“Hey, gorgeous,” George Wickham’s voice answered.
“George!” Elizabeth exclaimed. Jane smiled at her and lifted her eyebrows. “How are you?”
“I’m great! I just got into New York, and I wanted to make sure I would see you tomorrow at the VMAs.”
“Yes!” Elizabeth grinned, surprised. “Are you going to be there?”
“Oh yeah. A couple of my videos are up for awards.”
“Oh! That’s wonderful!”
“So, I’ll see you there?” George said coyly.
“You will! I’m looking forward to it,” Elizabeth said pleasantly.
“Bye, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth hung up and turned to an expectant Jane. “That was George.”
“Who will be at the VMAs and is looking forward to seeing you,” Jane continued.
Elizabeth laughed. “Yes, basically that’s it.”
“And are you looking forward to seeing him?”
Elizabeth inclined her head. “Of course I am. George is my friend.”
“What about Will?”
Elizabeth frowned thoughtfully. “Yeah, what about him?” She sighed. “Well,” she said, drawing the word out, “I guess we’re both going to have to see what happens.”
As usual, Charles and Caroline were late. Darcy would have left without them if it weren’t for the media exposure. That was the whole point of the party. It was after eight when they finally arrived. Darcy and Richard were in their “Slurry-wear,” waiting in the kitchen.
Darcy was struck by the change in his friend right away. Physically Charles looked good; his skin was tanned, but his eyes were an emotional mess inside. “What the fuck?” Darcy asked him. “Didn’t your father get parole?”
Charles waved the question away. “Oh, he did. I have him all settled in the apartment at my place.”
“Then why do you look like your puppy got run over?”
“Jane,” Charles said simply. Caroline said nothing, but the set of her mouth made it clear this was not a new topic.
“What happened?”
“I miss her. I hated being away from her. She sounded so sad, and I couldn’t even tell her why we were apart.” He pulled his hair back. “And now I can’t even see her tonight.”
“Charles, this is a business thing. It will be full of photographers and reporters. Why would Jane want to come to this?”
Charles looked at Darcy, his eyes haunted. “I know that. I told her that, but still she would have come, just to see me.”
“Did you call her?”
“Her line was busy.”
Darcy sighed. This was not going well. He had seen Charles get into trouble emotionally before and he knew the signs. “Look, Charles, tomorrow you will see her, and you two can work it all out.”
Charles nodded dumbly.
“Now let’s go.”
Elizabeth answered the phone. An angry voice said, “Finally.”
“George?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Damn, it’s hard to get through to you!”
“Sorry, too many girls,” Elizabeth explained lightly. “What’s up?”
“I got some bad news, Lizzy.”
“What?”
“I won’t be seeing you tomorrow night.”
“Why not?”
“It’s that friggin’, bastard.”
“Who?”
“Darcy!” George growled. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t take it out on you, Lizzy.” His tone softened. “It’s just that the jerk must have found out I was going and he pulled some strings, so now I don’t have an invitation to the show.”
“What?” Elizabeth was shocked. “How could he do that?”
“Oh, he could do it. He’s fucking Fitzwilliam Darcy. If he said jump, all of MTV would ask how friggin’ high!”
“I can’t believe he would do that!”
“Oh, believe it, Lizzy,” George said with certainty. “Did you tell him about me?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, puzzled.
“Well, there you go. He doesn’t want me anywhere near you.”
“Oh God!” Elizabeth said in a low voice. “Oh my God!”
“I told you he gets what he wants, didn’t I, Lizzy?”
“George, you were right,” Elizabeth whispered.
“It’s okay, Lizzy. I’m just pissed because I wanted to see my work win.”
“That bastard,” Lizzy whispered harshly, her anger building. “I can’t believe him! That arrogant prick! It’s bad enough he thinks he can fuck with me, but it’s so wrong that he would mess with you.”
“He’s something, that arrogant jerk,” George snorted.
“Well, what are you going to do?” Elizabeth asked tentatively.
George sounded sad. “Nothing I can do, Lizzy. He’s got me.”
Elizabeth remembered Darcy’s anger as she told him about Wickham. “That’s it! He’s not getting away with this. Tomorrow I’m going to tell him off!”
“Lizzy, don’t get yourself in trouble for me.”
“It’s not for you, George! It’s because he’s wrong! He’s an arrogant bastard and I’m going to tell him just what I think of him!” She stomped her foot. “God! If I knew where he was, I would go there right now!”
“Oh, that’s not hard,” George said lightly. “He’s no doubt at his big fancy loft. Hasn’t he ever taken you there?”
“No,” Elizabeth said, her tone soft and hurt.
“Figures,” George muttered darkly. “It’s on Broome Street in the Village.”
A plan came to Elizabeth. “Could you tell me how to get there?”
Darcy stretched and hit the lights. He was dead tired. The nap hadn’t helped much, and the nervous energy that came from traveling was wearing off. He was happy to leave the party the first chance he could and go back home. Richard volunteered to stay and to look after Charles when Darcy announced he was leaving at ten thirty. Anne gave him an evil look, but he hadn’t cared. He pressed the flesh and posed for pictures. His job was done. Darcy got himself a large glass of water. He hated affairs like that. The hypocrisy of it all disgusted him.
He was surprised when the phone rang ten minutes later. Even more surprising was the message. The doorman had an Elizabeth Bennet to see him. He ordered her sent up and went to the gallery to meet her, smiling. She had come! Just like he knew she would!
The elevator stopped and Elizabeth stepped out, her eyes flashing. She was surprised to find Darcy in a white shirt and his leather pants. Elizabeth bit down hard on her lust and snapped, “What? You wear those all the time?”
“I was just at an appearance,” he explained.
“Do you know why I’m here?” she asked.
“I think so,” he replied, lifting an eyebrow.
“You aren’t even ashamed, are you?” she said, appalled.
“Why should I be?” he asked, suddenly uncertain.
“Oh! That just takes the cake! You ban your oldest friend from receiving awards he rightfully deserves and it doesn’t bother you in the least!”
“Lizzy, what are you talking about?” Darcy asked, confusion plain on his face.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “So now you’re playing stupid? Fine! I’ll tell you. I’m talking about George Wickham, who just told me you had him banned from the VMAs,” she snarled scornfully.
Darcy’s expression hardened. “That’s a lie, Elizabeth. No doubt one of many he’s told you.”
“Why would he lie to me?”
“Probably to get back at me, I suspect,” he said calmly.
“George would never do that!” she said defiantly.
Darcy looked at her carefully. “Why do you believe him?”
Elizabeth paused, speechless. The question had caught her completely unawares. She pursed her lips and replied a moment later. “Because,” she stammered, “he told me everything that happened between him and you and Georgiana.”
Darcy smiled bitterly. “No, I’m sure he didn’t tell you everything. Quite sure.” He looked at her, his expression completely open. “Elizabeth, would you please sit down with me, and allow me to tell you my side of the story?”
Elizabeth nodded, surprised, her anger blunted by his reaction. This was not what she expected. He led her down a long hallway to a huge open space surrounded by shaded windows. Elizabeth sat on the couch and waited, still tense and hostile.
Darcy sighed deeply and began in a calm voice. “I trust that once you hear what happened you will know why I have to ask you to keep it a secret.”
She watched as his face turned raw with anguish and he paused, visibly struggling to continue. Elizabeth felt confusion and pity for the pain he was attempting to master. Clearly whatever had happened had deeply affected Darcy as well. “Can I,” she stopped when he looked at her, then she blurted out, “help?”
“Maybe it would be easier if you told me what Wickham told you,” he said, somewhat gratefully.
Elizabeth spoke in a matter-of-fact way. “He told me about how he grew up with Georgiana, and they were childhood friends.” Darcy nodded. “Then he went away to college, and when he returned, he saw her differently, as a beautiful woman.” Elizabeth watched as Darcy’s jaw tightened. She licked her lips and continued. “He told me how he fell in love with her, and she with him, until you found them out and forced them to break up.” Her tone and her expression turned hard. “Now, tell me that was a lie.”
Darcy had been pacing, listening carefully to her words. “It’s not,” he said shortly. “Nothing of it was a lie. I can see why you believed him.”
Elizabeth was dumbstruck. “And you admit to this? To forcing them apart? To breaking their hearts?”
Darcy looked down for a long time. Then he lifted his eyes to her and said, “Excuse me, I need to get something.” He disappeared into a side room and returned a moment later, sitting this time beside her on the couch. In his hand was a white folder with the words “Choate Rosemary Hall” printed in gold letters on it.
“It’s all true what he told you, Elizabeth, but he left out one very important detail. From the way you tell the story, I do look like a monster. I can see that, but, well—” He sighed and turned to the folder. “Last Saturday, I was at Georgiana’s graduation. Her high school graduation.”
He opened the folder and passed it to her. In it was a large picture of a girl in cap and gown, standing next to Darcy, smiling with pride. The program in the folder was opened to the list of graduates, and the name Georgiana Helen Darcy was circled in black ink. Elizabeth noted absently that she had been an honor student. A cold, confused, surreal feeling came over Elizabeth as she looked at the words written there and the date, only a week prior.
Darcy spoke softly, his voice far away. “It started when George and I were in college together. At first, I ignored it. It wasn’t unusual for freshmen to be dating high school girls, but he never stopped, even as he got older. By the time he was a senior, I was aware there was something strange going on, but he was careful to hide it. He would never bring his dates to any place I might be.
“Then we started the band. At first, we only played for ourselves, but George really pushed us to perform in public and he even set up the first shows for us. It was summer, and it was hard to tell how old the girls he was hanging around with were. Truthfully, I was too busy working on our songs to even notice.
“Then that spring, he started to slip. Richard and I were starting to notice we had a surprising number of high-school-aged girls as fans, but we just figured it was the music. We caught George with these girls once or twice, but he always claimed he didn’t know, or that they had told him they were in college.”
His voice grew softer as Elizabeth looked at him, horror building on her features. “Then that tour came. I made the decision to take Georgie with us because I missed her, frankly. She was at school all spring and I wanted her around. I had no idea…” His voice faded, then with effort, he began again. “It was the Fourth of July, at the Ramsgate festival.” Darcy looked up into Elizabeth’s eyes, and she knew he had never told this to anyone before. “And I walked into George’s dressing room and found him on top of my fourteen-year-old sister.”
Elizabeth’s hands were trembling as she moved them over her mouth. “Oh God,” she cried so quietly no one could have heard. A memory slammed into her head, of her lying on the couch on Darcy’s bus and listening to Caro discuss Georgie going to college.
She stood up, knowing she was going to be sick. Darcy looked at her, puzzled, until she squeaked out, “Bathroom?”
He took her arm and half-led/half-dragged her down the hall and through a door. Elizabeth fell to her knees and emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet. Only when she finished did she realize that Darcy was still there. He silently filled a glass of water and knelt down to give it to her.
Elizabeth took it, her hand still shaking. She took a sip and spit it out, and then with Darcy’s help, she gingerly stood. He helped her to the sink, where she washed her mouth out, and he gave her a damp washcloth.
“Did you sleep with him?” he asked finally.
“No,” Elizabeth breathed, “no, thank God.” Realization hit her; she was mortified by her actions and needed to escape. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she said brokenly. “I’ll leave now.”
She turned to the door, but Darcy caught her. “Elizabeth, you can barely stand,” he said with a gentle smile. “I’m not letting you leave yet.”
He gently led her back out to the bar that looked into the kitchen. “Sit,” he told her as he pulled out a stool.
Elizabeth put her elbows on the bar and her head in her hands. “How could I have been so stupid?” she whispered to herself.
Darcy was moving around the kitchen and served Elizabeth a glass of juice. “Drink that, slowly.”
Elizabeth didn’t want to drink anything, but she was so shaky she took a sip. Darcy came back around to her and lightly rubbed her back as he sat beside her. “Don’t blame yourself, Elizabeth. George is a master of deception. I know. I’ve been the victim of it more times than I can count.”
“I shouldn’t have been so gullible,” Elizabeth chastised herself. She looked at Darcy and remembered how she had come here to defend Wickham, and a fresh horror dawned on her. “Oh my God! You must hate me!”
Darcy shook his head, his eyes on hers. “I could never hate you, Lizzy, never. You have every right to be angry with me. I should’ve told you right away about Wickham.”
“No,” Elizabeth said, putting her hand on his arm, “I understand why you couldn’t.” She felt tears forming in her eyes. “No one else knows?”
Darcy shook his head. “Only Richard, my attorney, and Georgie’s counselor.”
“So what happened?”
Darcy shrugged as he took her now empty glass and walked around the bar to the kitchen. “I threw George off the tour and told him never to come near us again. He knew I wouldn’t press charges. Not for his sake, but for Georgie’s.”
Elizabeth nodded. She cringed as she realized that without meaning to, her eyes had fixed themselves on the vision of his tight ass encased in his leather pants, an image that seemed totally out of place in this setting.
“He disappeared and I had to deal with Georgiana,” he said as he returned to his seat beside her.
“Did she blame you?”
“Yes,” his soft voice expressing his long-held grief. “It was only after George didn’t come back and didn’t even try to contact her for six months that she was willing to accept the fact that he had victimized her.” Darcy looked at her, and again Elizabeth saw that bitter, self-mocking grin. “Then she hated both of us,” he said with bitter humor.
“I can’t imagine,” Elizabeth said as she took his hand in her own and squeezed it. “That must have been so hard.”
“It was,” he said, his voice very soft. “I failed her. Georgie was my responsibility. I was the only one she had to care for her, to protect her”—he laughed, a harsh angry bark—“and I took her on tour with a fucking pedophile!” He stopped, overcome by guilt, his fist clenching. Turning to Elizabeth, he continued, his voice deep with irony and hurt. “So you can see how I can’t really blame you for trusting George.”
Elizabeth touched his cheek, gently. He was suffering so deeply, the hurt raw on his face. She didn’t know what she was doing, but her instincts told her to help him, to heal him. She pulled his face closer and kissed him gently on the lips. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice thick with feeling. She kissed him again, and suddenly his arms flung around her, like a drowning man grabbing a life preserver.
He kissed her, hard, before he opened his mouth, to find hers eagerly waiting for him. He plundered her mouth, tasting her sweetness and moaning her name as he gasped for breath, “Lizzy, Lizzy…”
She whispered one thing only in reply: “Don’t stop.”
Her words unleashed a torrent of desire in him. His hands explored her, sliding under her shirt and stroking the smooth skin of her back until with a cry of frustration she grabbed his hand and placed it on her breast.
Darcy stared at her, his eyes searching hers as their chests rose and fell, then she squeezed his hand and sighed with pleasure. Darcy didn’t need anything more. In a moment, her shirt and bra were reduced to tattered rags on the floor. He squeezed her full, round breasts, kissing her as her head tipped back from the pleasure. Soft cries rose from her throat as he bent down to suck a rosy-tipped nipple into his mouth.
Her hands moved desperately, one clasping his head to her, the other reaching down the back of his shirt to pull him closer. His suckling started gently, but soon became harder as her cries grew more frantic. Her nipple grew hard and swollen in his mouth and he was sure he had never tasted anything so luscious.
His feast was interrupted as she pulled his head away and looked at him with an expression of need. His shirt was quickly removed while she disposed of her shorts and panties. As he opened his pants, she stared at him, hard and sweating. Brazenly she put her hand on his, stopping him. “Don’t,” she commanded. “Leave them on.”
Darcy’s eyes widened with understanding. He opened his fly as wide as possible and Elizabeth was mesmerized with the sight of his large erection rising out from his tight leather sheath, his tight dark curls peeking out from his base. Breathing heavily, she sat back on the stool and spread her legs wide open for him.
Darcy grew harder at the searing vision of Elizabeth, aroused and naked, exposing herself to him. He took her into his arms, his one hand at the flat of her back, pressing her close to him, the other touching her sex. He kissed her again, his tongue demonstrating exactly what his cock would be doing. Positioning himself, he moved both hands to cup her ass and entered her with a series of long, hard strokes.
A strangled cry escaped Elizabeth’s mouth as she kissed him again, her hands grasping his shoulders and her legs wrapping around his leather-clad hips. Their tongues dueled while he thrust into her, again and again until finally he penetrated her fully.
He paused for a moment, and Elizabeth relished in the feeling of him deep inside of her, until he rasped, “Hang on!” and fucked her with a fury she had not believed possible. Over and over, he banged into her, and Elizabeth welcomed every impact. She cried out as she felt him thickening and growing larger inside of her. The sweet pressure was building up in her, making her beg desperately for him to never stop. She tightened her legs around his leather-clad ass, locking him close as she exploded on him.
He gripped her ass tightly, hammering his last blows into her as he reached his peak and his seed burst out.
Panting, he gathered her close to him and sat down with her still mounted on him. “I’m sorry, Lizzy,” he whispered as he kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want it to be rough with you.”
Elizabeth giggled as she struggled for breath and lifted a glowing face to him, her lips finding his. “Now who’s being stupid?” she teased as she kissed him again. “What makes you think I wanted it any other way?”
He smiled rakishly back at her. “Naughty girl.” He kissed her deeply and Elizabeth gasped as she felt him hardening inside of her. His eyes sought her approval, given as she clenched him tightly inside of her.
Grasping her thighs, he rose and managed only a few steps before he stopped and pressed her against the wall. “I don’t think we’re going to make it to the bed,” he gasped.
“You have a bed?” she asked, the humor lost on them both as Darcy plunged himself into her slick wet opening at a fervent pace and Elizabeth’s head fell back, her hands reaching up to cup her breasts. Darcy’s eyes locked on the image of her fingers pinching her nipples and he slowly pulled himself out and slid down the wall with her to the floor.
Elizabeth looked at him questioningly as he gently laid her back on the thick hand-woven rug. Kneeling down beside her, he reached out to touch her chest, still heaving deeply with each breath. Slowly he traced his fingertips down her body, dipping into her navel and following the gentle curve of her belly, before he finally reached the soft dark fur crowning her sex.
Elizabeth watched his expression of wonder mixed with a powerful lust. His touch stirred her and left her needing more. She arched her hips up, allowing his fingers to drop just a little lower, into the place she craved.
“Oh God!” she sighed as his rough calluses finally touched her. He dipped his finger into her well, using his own come as a lubricant as he returned to her center.
Her hands were back at her breasts, and he found he needed to taste them again. He leaned forward, pivoting on his knees, and captured one in his mouth. A low moan of satisfaction arose from Elizabeth as the pleasure of his tongue and his touch combined in her.
Elizabeth’s free hand reached out and found his long thigh at her side. It was still encased in the smooth leather, which did nothing to hide his hard muscles from her touch. She closed her eyes and let her hand explore his lower body, sliding out his leg and over the tight curves of his ass, squeezing it as she arched higher, her body seeking the release she needed. With a sudden cry, he tipped her over the edge and she came violently, her head involuntarily rocking against the floor with each wave of pleasure.
Then she stopped, her body curling into a tight ball as the waves of pleasure ebbed away. He collected her into his arms, his lips placing tender kisses on her face as she slowly returned to herself. Gradually her body relaxed and her legs stretched out again to feel the curious sensation of his leather-clad ones intertwining with hers.
He slowly laid her back and positioned himself above her. Taking his large cock in his hand, he lightly teased her center with its head until she sighed and parted her lips to him in supplication.
Their mutual wetness made it easy for him to slide into her. He marveled distantly at the difference from the last time, until she lifted her hips to him and drew her nails down his back, and then he didn’t notice anything. She grabbed at him wildly as her legs wrapped around his waist and attempted to bring him deeper. Forcefully he rode her, unable to stop until he achieved the release he sought in her. Elizabeth’s voice was in his ears but he could not understand what she said. Then he felt her body tightening, pulling on him, and he knew he was there. He held on tightly, as her screams were soon joined by his moans when he came inside her once again.
“Are you okay?” he asked when he could speak again.
Lizzy could only nod. Leaning on each other, they got up and made their way down the hall to the master bedroom. Darcy’s bed was still unmade from his nap, and with Elizabeth’s permission, he finally removed his pants and crawled in beside her.
Elizabeth rested her head on his chest, listening to the soothing sound of his heartbeat. One of his hands stroked her back while the other covered her hand as it rested on his chest.
They rested together silently for what felt like a long time, each of them reflecting silently, Darcy kissing the top of her head, Elizabeth kissing his chest. Darcy heard her giggle and looked down to see her fingers lightly fanning over his chest. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice relaxed and amused.
Elizabeth looked up at him, her eyes dancing with mirth. “I’m playing your lyre,” she replied with a wicked grin.
He lifted his eyebrows. “Are you now?”
“Hmm mmm,” she replied, her fingers dancing lightly over the tiny ink strings on his chest. “I love this,” she told him with artless honesty.
Darcy felt his heart swelling as a sweet sensation of rightness overcame him. Never in all his fantasies could he have imagined it would be like this, that making love to Elizabeth would be so intense, or that she would touch him so deeply. She pressed her face to his tattoo and tenderly kissed the spot directly over his heart. Darcy could feel his flesh and his very soul being branded by her lips. He squeezed her tightly and said, “Thank you.”
“Thank you,” she replied. “That was…” She smiled, not having words to express her experience. “I’ve never had it like that before.”
“Neither have I,” he told her sincerely as his fingers lightly brushed her hair from her face. “But I knew it would be special for us.”
Elizabeth nodded as she found herself in agreement with him. “Me too,” she giggled and rolled onto her back. “Oh!”
“What?” he asked as he followed her roll, to end up lying half on top of her.
“I think I’m going to have a problem when I go. My clothes,” she grinned, “got kind of damaged.”
“Oh, that’s no problem,” he smiled, his hand stroking the muscles of her arm with featherlight touches.
“No?” Elizabeth asked as she yielded to temptation and nibbled on his yummy dimple.
“Who said anything about you leaving?” he intoned with mock seriousness and wigging eyebrows.
Elizabeth laughed, drunk from the pleasure she had received and the closeness of him now. With a contented sigh, she rubbed her nose against his neck and let her head fill with his delicious scent.
“Seriously, Elizabeth,” he said in a subdued tone. “I would like it if you stayed tonight,” he told her, his expression curiously vulnerable.
Elizabeth reached up and rubbed the frown from between his eyebrows. She remembered the pain he had shared with her earlier and she felt her heart go out to him. “I’m not going anywhere,” she told him softly.
She could see the relief on his face as he bent down to kiss her. She found it a delightful sensation. “Why didn’t we do this before?” he asked, once again playful.
Elizabeth yawned. “I don’t know.”
He turned Elizabeth on her side and spooned snugly beside her. “Neither do I, but I don’t think it matters now, does it?” he asked sleepily.
Elizabeth grinned and shook her head. She tried to go to sleep but something bothered her. “The lights are still on in the hall.”
“So?”
Chuckling, she rose and shut them off, gathering their clothing in the process. She realized that he lived alone and this was probably unnecessary, but old habits died hard. Quickly she hurried back to the bedroom and his bed.
Darcy bundled her close to him and planted a kiss on her ear before dropping off. Elizabeth smiled in contentment and surrendered to her emotional and physical exhaustion.
Elizabeth felt great as she awoke. She smiled cheerfully, stretched her legs, and snuggled closer to the warmth beside her. A hand rested on her cheek and she felt a kiss on her lips.
“Good morning,” the owner of the delicious warmth said. “You seem happy.”
Elizabeth’s smile grew wider. “I am.” She opened her eyes to find Darcy looking at her with amusement. “What?” she asked indignantly.
He laughed and kissed her lightly. “I’ve just never seen you so happy in the morning before.”
Elizabeth kissed him back. “Well, I did have the most gorgeous sleep,” she replied, sighing luxuriously. “Thank you.”
Darcy grinned lustily. “Glad to have been of service.” He reached out and kissed her, pulling her body close. “God, you feel good,” he exclaimed as his hands traced her soft curves.
“Hmmmm, so do you.” She reached down to stroke the erection that was pressing into her stomach. “Do you mind?” she asked as she gently indicated where she would like him to go.
“Not at all,” he breathed as he mounted her. “I didn’t want to bother you.”
Elizabeth sighed as he slid home. “Oh, such a bother.” She closed her eyes and delighted in the sensation that was him. She loved his smell, and the soft grunts he made when he thrust into her. However this time it was different. This wasn’t the frantic hell-for-leather ride of last night. It was slow and exacting. As he grew larger and deeper within her, his movements became smaller and more precise. She grasped his shoulders as her excitement built inside of her. She remembered how many times she had longed for this, to feel his weight on top of her and his cock buried deep inside of her. He breathed her name in her ear and she was gone.
Darcy watched her come beneath him, her head tipped back, her body grasping his, and he gave up. The pleasure he had been holding back enflamed inside of him, she was so wet, so tight. He gave himself over to the sweet pleasure that was Elizabeth and rode her to his release.
When he caught his breath, he rolled with Elizabeth to their side. “You are amazing,” he told her.
Elizabeth grinned, looking quite pleased. “I know.”
He smiled at her contemplatively as he reached out and stroked her hair, locking this image of her into his memory. “What?” Elizabeth asked, puzzled by his “deep thoughts” look.
Darcy shook his head dismissively. “I’ll tell you later.” He sat up smoothly. “Do you want to start getting cleaned up? I have to do something.” Elizabeth nodded and stretched her arms over her head as she openly stared at Darcy’s perfect body as he left the room, still stark naked.
The massive bed was suddenly unappealing without Darcy in it, so Elizabeth rose and went to the large bathroom off the bedroom. It was bright and sunny, yet private, with a toilet, double vanity, sunken tub, and a separate shower enclosure. She relieved herself and was hunting around for a toothbrush when she heard Darcy’s knock.
“Come in!” she replied.
He entered, still naked and looking exceptionally pleased with himself.
“Do you have a toothbrush I can use?” Elizabeth asked.
He pulled a purple one, still in its wrapper, out of a drawer. “For you.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth grinned as she opened the package and started to use it. Darcy came up close behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle, staring at their reflection in the large mirror. Elizabeth’s breasts were full and round, brushing his upper arm.
“You seem happy,” she observed around her toothbrush.
“I am,” he told her. “I’ve waited so long for this, to see you like this, to touch you.” He smiled and hugged her tight. “It was amazing to wake up with you.”
Elizabeth leaned forward as far as she could and spit out her toothpaste. She was a little embarrassed, but Darcy didn’t seem to mind. She leaned back and kissed him over her shoulder, leaving a trace of toothpaste on his lips.
“Is that coffee I smell?” she asked as a familiar scent hit her. Darcy smiled and nodded slowly to her. “For me?”
“Well, I’m certainly not going to drink it.”
Elizabeth smiled gratefully then looked down. “I didn’t think you would have any in the house. I know you don’t drink it.”
“No, I don’t,” he said as he started brushing his teeth. “But my assistant does, and my cousin does, and,” he stopped, spit out his toothpaste, and stared at her eyes in the mirror, “my lover does.”
“Oh,” she said, moved by the intensity in his eyes.
“You are the only one who is sharing my bed, Elizabeth. Don’t worry.”
Elizabeth’s cheeks flamed. She hadn’t realized she was that obvious and she was embarrassed.
Silently, Darcy walked around her and turned the shower on. “Is this hot enough?” he asked, moving aside for her.
Elizabeth was grateful he hadn’t said anything more. He seemed to understand her uneasiness. Elizabeth tested the water and then stepped in. It was very hot, just the way she liked it. Like Darcy, she giggled to herself. She watched him step in with her, still not quite able to believe this beautiful man had made love to her. The shower had a half-dozen heads mounted at different angles. Elizabeth was glad Darcy was here, because she would never have figured out the knobs and switches by herself.
“It’s not that complicated,” Darcy told her, seeming to read her mind. “I usually just use one shower head, but this is a special occasion.”
Elizabeth smiled uneasily. Darcy gently turned her away from him and started massaging her shoulders. “Talk to me,” he told her gently. “What’s bothering you?”
“I don’t know,” Elizabeth answered honestly.
“Is it me?”
“No,” she replied. “You’ve been amazing. It’s me, I guess. I just don’t have a lot of experience with this whole morning-after thing.” She felt herself blushing again. “I don’t know what I should do or say or when I should leave or what.”
Darcy moved her long mane of hair to the side and kissed the nape of her neck. “I love this spot on you. It’s very sexy,” he breathed as he dragged his lips slowly over it, and Elizabeth felt her pulse rising. “As for the rest of it,” Darcy continued, “I think we don’t need to worry about traditional roles, Elizabeth. You and I are different. We’re artists and we make up our own roles. We don’t live the everyday lives that other people do.” He kissed her again, his lips lingering on her neck. “And besides, I don’t have much practice at this morning-after thing either,” he said in a rush.
Elizabeth laughed, her tension ebbing away. She turned, twined her arms around his neck, and kissed him happily. “Thank you,” she grinned.
Darcy smiled back radiantly. “Any time. I want you to feel completely welcome here.”
“You do?”
He nodded, his expression pleasantly earnest. “I like having you here. It’s an experience I want to repeat.”
Elizabeth smiled, pleased that he had seemingly effortlessly relieved a number of her questions: Was this a one-night stand? Did he want her to leave? And so on.
Darcy reached behind her and picked up a plain white bar of soap. His eyes asked permission, which she silently gave, and she relaxed as his hands moved over her body. Slowly he washed her, starting with her arms then moving to her chest and tummy. She opened her eyes when he tickled her slightly and she shyly asked what he was thinking.
“I was thinking about all those times we were swimming together and I wanted to do this, to touch you all over.”
“You did?”
Darcy stopped and looked up at her, puzzled. “Of course, wasn’t it obvious with the way I was staring at you?”
Elizabeth looked away. “I thought you, I don’t know, I didn’t realize.”
Darcy stopped his careful bathing and stood up. “Lizzy, don’t you know I’ve been crazy about you for months?”
Elizabeth met his gaze with difficulty. “I’m not sure. I thought that you might like me, but you were so… I wasn’t sure.” She frowned then. “And then when George talked to me—”
“Stop!” Darcy told her, “You will not think about him in my shower.”
“But I was so wrong. I believed him, and I was so cruel to you.”
Darcy took her face in his large hands and gently forced her to look at him. “Lizzy, I told you before, it’s not your fault. George is a master at lying, and he knew that you would be the one I would care about. He knows me well enough to know that I would be attracted to you. That is why he targeted you.” Darcy kissed her lightly. “But it doesn’t matter now, does it?” He lifted an eyebrow to indicate their current setting and Elizabeth nodded.
She rose up on her toes and kissed him, opening to him the feelings that she couldn’t talk about yet. Darcy released her face to wrap his long arms around her body and pull her closer. Elizabeth was heady from the sensation of his bare wet skin against hers. She moved back and smiled wickedly as he became erect against her belly.
It was Darcy’s turn to be embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Lizzy. I don’t know what you do to me,” he told her. “If you want to go and—” The words died on his lips as Elizabeth, with large hungry eyes, sank to her knees and drew his hard cock into her mouth.
“Oh my God!” Darcy growled as she took her time, blissfully sucking and releasing, nipping his head and planting featherlight kisses on his balls. “Lizzy,” he moaned between labored breaths. “Damn it, Lizzy!”
In a rush Lizzy felt movement and found herself being lifted. Darcy took her and placed her on his lap as he sat on the bench that ran along the rear wall of the shower. “Oh?” she gasped, then Darcy thrust upward and entered her, and Elizabeth found that she was beyond intelligent conversation. Darcy was pleased to find this position left her breasts at the perfect height and he helped himself to her hard nipples, sucking and teasing them with his teeth.
Elizabeth buried her fingers in his thick, wet hair and arched herself back, trying to improve her position. She enjoyed the feelings of Darcy inside of her, and his mouth was making her lose her mind. She raised her hands over her head, stretching herself against him, allowing herself to savor the full length of him. He suckled harder as she ground herself into him. She could hear him moaning softly as she felt herself getting closer. She felt sexy and wicked, enjoying the knowledge that literally the sexiest man she knew couldn’t get enough of her. Finally she exploded in a fantastic rush. Darcy’s hands clamped tightly to her hips as he pounded himself into her. Elizabeth relished the sinful feeling of his body slamming against her again and again until she felt him pause and then come in her with a ragged gasp.
They separated, Darcy sitting on the bench, and Elizabeth, panting, leaning heavily against the wall. When he could speak, Darcy said, “I’m sorry, Lizzy. I promise someday I’ll make love to you properly.”
Elizabeth looked at him disbelievingly. “What was wrong with that?”
He grinned shyly. “I want to taste you.”
“Oh,” Elizabeth smiled wantonly, “I’m sure we can arrange that.” Together they washed, deciding that washing themselves would be a safer course of action, and soon tumbled out of the shower in a wet, happy, steamy pile.
Darcy took great delight in drying her off, while Elizabeth took her own turn drying his back. When they entered the bedroom, Elizabeth was pleased to see Darcy had laid out her shorts and a Slurry T-shirt. As she dressed, she giggled. “I guess it’s official. I’m a Slurry groupie now.”
Darcy looked at her, his eyes lingering over her unbound breasts, which were plainly outlined by the T-shirt. “No, you are the Slurry groupie,” he said lustfully.
“I hope that doesn’t mean I have to do the whole band,” she replied, deadpan.
“Oh no!” Darcy said playfully. “No sharing.”
He led her to the kitchen area and let her fix her coffee while he operated the remote and opened the shades.
As the morning light flooded the room, Elizabeth looked around in surprise. In everything that had happened the night before, she had never really seen Darcy’s home. “Will,” she breathed, admiration apparent in her voice, “this is amazing. Look at the view!” She stepped to the far end of the living area where there were windows on three walls. “This is so beautiful,” she told him.
He looked at her, his face an expression of pride and joy. “I’ve wanted to bring you here, to share this with you for so long, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth was touched and she hugged him close. “Tell me what I’m looking at.”
Darcy took the time to point out all the landmarks from each window. Then he led her back to the bar, where they sat, discussing getting a plaque for “The Stool” when he said, “You know, it’s silly for you to go back up to Meryton and then turn around and come back here.”
“Yeah, I was thinking that. Would it be okay if I called home and asked Jane to bring my stuff?” she said. “I should probably tell them where I am anyway.”
“You are home,” he told her softly, his eyes cradling hers.
“What?”
“My home is yours, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth was very uncomfortable with what he said, so she tried to hide it in a joke. “Oh, that’s all? No prenup, no wedding, just three or four quick ones and I get the house?” she grinned teasingly. “Your attorney must love that.”
Darcy rolled his eyes. “You have no idea.”
She grinned, glad the moment had passed, and reached for the phone.
Richard nodded to the doorman and entered the elevator. When the doors stopped, Richard was immediately struck by something odd. The smell of coffee was there when it shouldn’t be. He walked toward the voices coming from the living area.
He stopped and gaped when he saw Darcy wearing nothing but a pair of cotton drawstring pants and Elizabeth wearing shorts and a Slurry T-shirt. Their hair was damp, and if that wasn’t enough, it was clear from their body language they had been “close.”
Darcy was explaining to Elizabeth that Richard seemed to live in his fourth bedroom when Richard recovered the power of speech. “Lizzy! I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”
Elizabeth blushed slightly and smiled. “Hi, Richard.”
“Good thing I got extra croissants this morning,” he said lightly. “Have you eaten yet?”
“No,” Elizabeth said with an embarrassed chuckle.
“Will,” Richard said as he put a bag on the table, “could I have a word with you?”
Darcy followed his cousin into his office and waited. “That’s great, Will, that’s just fuckin’ great,” Richard observed. “You dumped me with Charles, who spent all night moping over Jane, getting drunk, and then barfing, while you’re back here shagging her sister!”
“Richard, believe me, this wasn’t planned,” Darcy replied calmly.
“Damned amazing timing then.”
“As a matter of fact, you can thank Wickham for that. He called her last night and got Lizzy so worked up, she drove down here to read me the riot act.”
“Well, I can see that was one of his more successful plans,” Richard commented dryly.
“Indeed,” Darcy grinned, taking a sip of his tea.
From the table where Elizabeth was setting out the food, she could hear every word. She wondered why they had even shut the door.
“Fine, you enjoy your playmate, but I suggest you give Charles a call later. It’s your fault he’s in this mess.” He opened the door and announced, “I’m going to bed,” and walked to his room.
Elizabeth looked at Darcy with open curiosity. She figured it was his house, he must know the walls were as thin as tissue paper. “What did he mean about Charles?”
Darcy shrugged as he crossed over to her. “Truthfully, I don’t know. Charles was depressed last night over Jane. He’s been missing her terribly.”
“Really?” Elizabeth asked. “Jane thinks he wants to break up with her.”
Darcy looked confused as he walked with her to the table and sat down. “Why would she think that?”
“Charles has been distant from Jane lately, he’s been keeping things from her,” Elizabeth told him as she sat down. “And when they talked Sunday night, he said he needed to talk to her face-to-face and that it was something bad.”
Darcy nodded knowingly. “He’s not going to break up with her.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Darcy took her hand. “He is going to tell her about his father.” Darcy took a sip of his tea and continued. “Charles’s father was just released from jail, where he served twelve months for insider trading.”
Elizabeth was shocked. “Why didn’t I hear about this before?”
“Because we’ve been working like crazy to make sure that nobody heard about it. I told Charles not to tell Jane.”
Elizabeth froze. “So, why did you tell me?”
Darcy looked at her warmly. “Elizabeth, you know about Georgiana, there can’t be any secrets between us now.”
“But why did you trust me when you didn’t trust Jane?”
Darcy stopped, put his cup on the table, and turned to her, taking both her hands in his own. “Because I love you, Elizabeth. Don’t you know that? I ardently love and admire you, with all my heart.”
Elizabeth felt chilled. She pulled her hands back. “Wait,” she told him. “Will, you’re going too fast.”
“Elizabeth,” his voice was filled with wonder, “did you really not know?” He studied her eyes and found the truth of his words. “I’m sorry, Lizzy. I didn’t mean to startle you, but it’s true. I do love you. And I have for the longest time.”
“No,” Elizabeth breathed and got up. She moved away from the table and faced the window.
“Lizzy,” he said gently as he placed his hands on her shoulders.
“Will, I told you, you have to slow down!” she told him, pulling away.
“Lizzy, I’m not trying to rush you. I just want you to know how I feel.” He held up his hands in a nonthreatening way. “Besides,” he grinned, “you can’t tell me that after last night, you don’t feel the same way.”
“What?” Elizabeth exclaimed. “Will, how can I know if I love you? I feel like I barely even know you!”
“Elizabeth, you know me!” he snapped. He could sense they were getting into trouble again. He fell back on the one thing he could trust. “You may not know the stupid details of my life, but you know my music. You know what counts about me.” He stepped closer. “You can’t tell me that you would have touched me, have comforted me the way you did last night if you didn’t love me. You wouldn’t have done that for anyone else.”
Elizabeth looked up at him, her expression confused and troubled. “Actually, I don’t know that. What you shared was so horrible, and you were hurting so badly. I don’t know if it was love or what. I just wanted to comfort you. So I don’t know if I would have done the same for someone else. If it was someone I respected and liked, and I had no other reason not to, then maybe I might have slept with someone else if they had shared something that painful with me. I don’t know.”
“No, Elizabeth, I don’t believe it.”
“Will, it’s true. Look, please, you’ve got to slow down. I like you, you’re a good friend and a great lover, but I don’t know if I love you, not yet.” She looked saddened by the realization.
“You cannot make love the way we did and not be in love!” He shook his head in stunned disbelief. “I love you! Only you! Of all the women I have known, I want you! Can’t you see that? You have seen all the women I could have. I could be worse than Richard, for Christ’s sake, but I don’t want anyone but you, Elizabeth,” he said, his words vibrating with intensity. “Don’t you understand? Didn’t you hear it when I played for you?”
“You’re not listening to me.” Elizabeth stepped back slowly, her face shocked. “I’m sorry, Darcy. I’m very, very sorry. But… I need time.” Then she turned away and quickly moved toward the elevator.
Darcy followed her. “Stay!” he told her as the doors began to close.
Elizabeth only shook her head, unable to look at him, tears forming in her eyes.
Elizabeth found herself walking, not knowing what to think. Her truck was parked in the Village, but Elizabeth soon realized that she was heading north and figured she might as well keep going, rather than double back and have to find another parking space. In fact, she frankly didn’t care if she ever saw her truck again. She felt like she could simply keep walking for the rest of her life.
What had happened? In twelve hours, her life had changed completely. Oh, she could deny it. She could pretend that it was just a meaningless fuck with no consequences, but nothing could be further from reality.
No, nothing was the same.
She slowed as Darcy’s face appeared before her eyes. How could she have been so blind? No wonder he was stunned by her ignorance. He had been offering his affections to her for so long, she realized now. With the remarkable clarity of hindsight, she was able to see it all: the kindness he had shown her when performing, the way he comforted her when she was troubled, the solo he had played just for her. She shivered in the July heat as she saw his eyes again as he looked at her, as he fucked her, as he professed his love for her.
No, she told herself, quickening her step and trying to push the image away. Don’t think about that. She laughed out loud like a madwoman. When else was she to think about it? Realizing the necessity of putting her thoughts in order, she found one of the ubiquitous coffee shops, got herself a triple vanilla latte, and sat down by herself to sort things out.
Okay, point one: He loved her, or at least he thought he did. Did she love him? All the orderliness of her thoughts fell away at that one question. Did she? She didn’t think she did, but she remembered what he had said: “You cannot make love the way we did and not be in love!” Was he right? Her cynical side said, Of course not. You had great sex, you did not make love. But she wasn’t so sure. She sipped absently on her drink as she lost herself in the fresh memories.
She certainly had never had sex like that. She caught a whiff of his scent trapped in her hair and her gut clenched. “Oh God,” she whispered. What had she done?
She struggled to pull herself together. Even if he was right, even if they had made love, that didn’t mean she loved him and even if she did, he was pushing her. Of that fact she could be sure, and she grasped on to it tightly. She had asked him, begged him to slow down, and he hadn’t. He wouldn’t back down, and in the end he had pushed her right out the door.
And now they were on opposite sides of the door, and neither was happy. She sighed heavily and rose. When she returned to the sidewalk, she paused for a full minute, not sure which way to turn her feet. In the end, her pragmatism turned her toward the north. She knew she would see Will at the rehearsal and they could speak there. It would be better that way, safer, because they couldn’t get distracted or carried away.
Realizing she had found as much peace as she could, she put the question of “what comes next?” out of her mind and walked uptown. She still couldn’t admit that she loved him, but she wasn’t willing to rule that out of her future, and she did know she needed to know him better, and he needed to know more about her.
That thought triggered a flash of annoyance in her jaw. He hadn’t seemed to care about her feelings. He was so certain of her, which in a way was flattering, but at the same time galling. Was she that predictable? And even if she was, where did he get off telling her what she felt? Okay, yes, she was very uncertain of her feelings, but still, she disliked the way he told her what she felt—once again, taking control of everything around her. Mr. Control Freak.
At least she understood now why he was so controlling. She still felt sorry for him for what happened to Georgiana, but at the same time, she needed to work out her own life, not be controlled by someone else, no matter how well meaning.
It was a relief when the hotel where she would meet Jane and the others finally came into view. She entered the restaurant, knowing she was an hour early. She wasn’t hungry, but she knew she needed her strength for what was to come.
She ordered and ate her meal without tasting any of it. Her mind and indeed her spirit were miles away.
Darcy watched the elevator doors close with a feeling of helplessness. Without knowing what he did, he grabbed the first object he found and threw it, the crystal vase smashing into the closed doors and shattering to a million pieces.
“Nice job,” Richard said quietly.
Darcy gave him a black look.
“I heard your discussion with Elizabeth,” he continued, ignoring Darcy’s expression. “That was good. I was impressed.”
“Shut up!” Darcy growled violently.
“No, really, it was good. I especially liked the way she walked out on you.”
Darcy spun on his cousin, finding his right fist pulled back by his ear and not knowing how it had gotten there. He froze. He had not punched Richard since he was fifteen. “Why? Why are you doing this?”
Richard shrugged. “Just wanted to share the misery.”
“Fuck you!” Darcy swore emphatically as he walked to his bedroom.
“Why not? Everyone else has.”
Darcy slammed the door and slid down against it. He couldn’t go to his bed. It was too much. Too many memories lay there. “Lizzy,” he breathed.
Why? Why had she walked away? He loved her, and she loved him. He was certain of it. He knew, from the way she had kissed him, last night, on the stool.
His mind was distracted by the memory of the stool, by the incredible feeling of entering her, of sinking himself into her, of their limbs being tightly intertwined and her cries of passion as he pleasured her again and again.
The ice-cold fact that she was gone broke in on his awareness, shattering the beautiful memory. She was gone! The vision of her face, sad and pitying as she told him she didn’t love him, replaced the vision of her ecstasy, and he was desolate.
Why? He had offered her everything: his love, his home, his wealth, his very soul. He simply wanted to love her, to worship her with his complete being.
He snorted. Apparently that wasn’t enough. Elizabeth Bennet didn’t want that. Where she thought she would find better, he could not, in all honesty, imagine. No one would, or could, love her the way he did.
And her career! Didn’t she see what he could do for her career? She thought she wanted to make it alone? Fine! She would see just how alone she could be.
With an ugly scowl, he dressed himself. He had a rehearsal to make, and he was going to teach Elizabeth a lesson.
It was one of those days that Caroline Bingley was sure she was not paid enough. She was stuck at Radio City Music Hall with three of the crankiest men on the planet and a bitch producer from MTV, and to top it off, she hadn’t seen her lover, or gotten laid, in over a week!
“TJ? How much longer?” she asked the friendly production assistant who had been assigned to Slurry. The rehearsal had been delayed, as she expected, but they were now well over an hour late and things were getting out of hand. A hip-hop medley of five different artists was the holdup, and it was with a sense of relief that Caroline saw they were finally finished.
“Ten minutes,” TJ answered with a sympathetic smile.
Caroline nodded her thanks, grabbed the bottle of Advil that Charles was about to hurl away in frustration, and opened it for him.
“Thanks, Caro,” he moaned as he popped four of them. Caroline asked TJ for another round of bottled water for the band as she stood and stretched her legs in the aisle. The band that had been troubled last week was a ragged mess today. Charles was clearly hung over, Richard was snarling from lack of sleep, and Darcy—she paused, Darcy looked worse than she had ever seen him. His expression was dark and bordering on flat-out mean. Caroline found herself in the unusual position of having no idea what had happened. He was fine when he had left the party the night before, but now, she wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley.
The call came and Slurry finally moved onstage. The plan had been that they would play an acoustic version of “Bound,” but the look in Darcy’s eye told Caroline that was not going to happen.
Darcy looked at the bitch producer from MTV who had insulted them all day to Anne de Bourgh, who looked at him with open disdain. He was fed up with women right now, convinced they were the source of all the misery in his life, but it was only when he saw Elizabeth and her band mates enter the theater and take a seat in the back that he knew what he was going to do.
He walked to Charles and put an arm over his shoulder. “Let’s have some fun,” he said, his voice darkly persuasive.
“What do you want to do?” Charles said foggily.
“Change the song,” Darcy grinned wickedly. Charles matched his grin.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he agreed, delighted with the prospect of some harmless mischief. “Let’s do it.”
Darcy began a simple melody line to which Charles joined eight bars later.
From her seat, Elizabeth felt her jaw drop as she recognized the introduction Darcy was playing. Shock overwhelmed her as she watched Darcy staring coldly at her, snarling and mouthing the chorus to her. The message was unmistakable, even for someone as blind as she had been.