*Dear loves, I'm very sorry I haven't updated in forever. =( I hope this next chapter helps in earning your forgiveness. I'm having trouble writing everything lately, just missing that spark. But, I'll work on Chapter 6 as well as I can, and try to get it to you asap. Kisses, Almostluver*
Halfway through the night, Scarlet awoke, tangled in Donovan's arms. Her head was resting against his warm, bare chest, his heart beating steadily in her ear. One strong arm was slung around her waist; the other was drifting unconsciously over the skin of her thigh, which was hitched up around his hip.
In the darkness, and asleep, he looked young, soft...beautiful. So different from everything he was in the light of day. Beautiful, yes. Soft...not in the least. A part of her lusted after his hardness, she could admit to herself. But she also wanted to feel his softness directed at her on purpose.
She dozed off again after staring at him for several minutes. Before her eyes drifted closed, she briefly wondered about their morning after. His dream had embarrassed both of them; she hadn't expected him to come back to her bed. Waking up with him there had been a shock, but a pleasurable one. Waking up with him a second time, wouldn't be quite as nice.
She needn't have worried.
The next time she opened her eyes, her bed was empty, with only his faint scent giving away that he'd ever been there.
The next three weeks passed the same way; they would see each other for meals, while the rest of her time was spent with Abner or exploring the grounds -- when the despicable man she was married to gave her leave to do so -- and his was spent in areas of the house he'd forbidden her to venture into. She could probably count the number of words they shared each day on two hands, if that; and that was perfectly alright with her. Their nights began in different rooms...but she always woke up to find him beside her in the middle of the night, and gone again in the morning.
One night, he didn't come at all, and she tossed and turned the whole night.
"Wife --"
"Scar- Annabelle," She corrected him crossly, glaring across the table. He had been calling her that -- not by her name -- since the night of his dream, and she didn't like it one bit.
He frowned, but continued. "Tomorrow, I will be leaving, on business, for a couple days. While I am gone, the same rules still apply. No visitors. You will stay in the house -- Abner has been instructed that your afternoon walks will be postponed until I return, and he knows better than to go against me. Above all, stay out of my rooms."
She flushed guiltily. A few days ago, she had 'accidentally' wandered into his part of the house, and he'd discovered her trying to trip the lock in one of the doors with a hair pin. She had been relieved when all he'd done was lock her in her room for the rest of the night; she'd expected a sound spanking, at least. Then again, that had been the night he didn't come...but how would he know she couldn't sleep without him beside her?
"Do I make myself clear?" His soft growl broke into her thoughts, turned them right around to those annoyingly aroused thoughts she got whenever he spoke to her in that tone -- whenever he spoke, period.
"What is your business?" She asked to distract herself.
He frowned and continued eating. Obviously, he wasn't open to talk about his business. She didn't think he actually had one -- he certainly didn't need it. From what she gathered, his father had died a multibillionaire, leaving every penny and zero debts to his son. Work, obviously, was just an amusement for him.
Then again, she couldn't see Donovan actually performing any sort of task, and not just because of his blindness. He just wasn't a working-type of person, and she knew those types very well. She'd been one, refusing to live solely off her parent's shaky wealth. Donovan Alford had probably never worked a second in his life.
Stocks, she decided, studying him. He has hundreds, thousands, or even millions of stocks, and all his 'business trip' is, is a meeting with his handlers, or brokers, or whatever they're called.
"I asked you a question, Annabelle."
"W-what?"
"I said: do I make myself clear? Don't make me repeat myself again." His lush lips pressed together into a frown, and she looked down and away immediately. It ought to have been illegal, his ridiculous amount of sex appeal. It wasn't fair on her poor hormones.
"Yes, sir." She whispered. He didn't reply, and when she finally chanced a peek at him, his face was quizzical as he 'studied' her. She knew that look very well...she'd seen it on his face almost every time they were together. She puzzled him.
Donovan sighed quietly and picked up is fork. His young wife was a puzzle. She was snappish and a brat to him most of the time, and that he could deal with and understand. But, it was when she got quiet and scared-like, like this, that he was lost. He wished he could see her face, so he'd at least have a clue what was on her mind. He had a feeling his wife's face was very readable.
***
The day after Donovan left, Scarlet woke early -- though, 'woke' is hardly the right word used to describe rolling out of bed before dawn after a very long, sleepless night. She dressed quietly and went downstairs. Abner was puttering away in the kitchen already. She wandered around the bottom floor, aimlessly entering and exiting rooms and losing herself in the long, twisted hallways. She'd become almost familiar with the halls in the almost month that she'd been here, only getting mixed up every so often.
"Milady," Abner popped out of nowhere, startling her as she exited a room towards the back of the house. "Breakfast is ready."
"Thanks, Abner," She headed off to the dining room quickly, momentarily forgetting S that Donovan wasn't waiting for her there. Her pace slowed as soon as she remembered, and she entered the cold, empty room somberly.
Abner served her silently, and she thanked him quietly, as usual. Breakfast had never seemed so long. They usually ate silently, anyway, but it was different with his obvious absence. She looked up at his chair constantly, but he wasn't there. She missed the way he cleared his throat quietly, every so often, as if preparing to say something to her. She missed the way his fingers sounded as they slid across the heavy books he usually brought to the table. She even (almost) missed the way he gave her the day's orders.
Plain and simple, Scarlet missed Donovan.
The rest of day one was spent wandering the giant house, losing and finding herself in the hallways. She longed to go outside for some fresh air and exercise; but Abner had locked all of the doors, knowing full well that she'd try to disobey the Master's orders. That didn't stop her from testing every outer door she came to, and every window low enough that she wouldn't hurt herself getting out of it. The butler had thought of that as well -- even the windows on the very top floor were fastened securely.
Scarlet missed Joey, and her horse. By four p.m. she'd been through every unlocked room, top to bottom, and she was beginning to get cabin fever. She'd even tried to jimmy one of Donovan's special doors open with her hair pins. The damn lock was having none of that.
Flopping on her bed, she sighed and stared moodily at the ceiling. Her husband's little rules made life dull. She was rarely on the computer, or phone or needed anything electronic at home; but the absence of those things, and her inability to simply use them when she wanted was too obvious.
The rules that pissed her off the most were "no going outside" and "no visitors." If she were at home, she'd have had Joey and Danny over in a minute, and they would've spent hours upon hours fooling around outdoors. Her sweet gelding, Cupid, probably missed her; she'd sent her baby to Joey's, so he could take care of him until Donovan allowed her to bring him to their home. Joey knew exactly how she wanted her horse treated, and he wouldn't shirk, just because she wasn't there, and he wouldn't spoil Cupid, 'cause he knew there'd be hell to pay when Scarlet found out.
For the first time in days, Scarlet remembered her cell phone. There were a shockingly few amount of outlets in the house, and she had to be careful not to leave it charging somewhere Abner or Donovan would find it, so she rarely used it, and kept it powered off.
The last time she'd called Joey, Donovan had walked into the room just as she was preparing to say goodbye. He had 'looked' at her curiously, but he hadn't said anything, so she quietly ended the call without saying another word, and had left the room before switching the phone off. She kept it hidden in the lining of her suitcase, which was shoved in the back of a closet in an empty room.
Now, she hurried to that room, several doors down from hers. She'd stuck a tiny piece of yellow cloth in the edge of the door, just so she would know which room it was. She had dozens of other little clues around the house, and Abner left them alone, knowing how confusing the large house could be to an outsider.
The door closed behind her with a quiet click and she shivered in the cool room. There was always a nasty chill in this house, no matter where she went. Even the rooms they actually lived and went in were cold, though not nearly as cold as the rooms that remained closed for most of the time. Scarlet quickly went to the closet and pulled her suitcase from the back. Digging around in a hole she'd torn in the lining, her fingers swiftly found her cell. She climbed into the bed and crawled under the covers, pulling the blanket over her head in an attempt to keep out the cold.
Her phone warbled happily as she turned it on. She'd never been so glad to see a bright, almost cheesy electric light in her life. She had twelve missed calls, all from Joey. She sighed and played through every single one of his messages. They were all the same, mostly, slowly getting more and more frantic. The last one, sent yesterday, demanded that she call him within the next twenty-four hours, or he would be mounting a full-scale rescue mission, her beastly husband be damned. Scarlet laughed at his dramatics, and dialed his number.
"Scary! You're alive!" was the first thing her panicky best friend screamed into her ear. She almost cried, finally hearing his voice after nearly two weeks without it. "Are you okay? He hasn't hurt you, has he? Any developments from the last time we talked? Do you want me and Danny to come get you? We can be there within the hour." Scarlet rolled her eyes at that. Her new home was nearly four hours away from Joey's. But, given Danny's driving, they probably *could* be there in under an hour. "Scary! Answer me!"
"Joey, I'm fine."
"Thank god!" He was still yelling and she half-wondered if it was a good idea to call him, after all. "When I didn't hear from you for so long, I got worried. I'm sorry."
"It's alright."
"So," he sounded calmer. "I take it your hubby's not around?"
"No, he's gone, on business. Otherwise, I probably wouldn't be able to call you. Gosh, I've missed you guys."
