Creighton walked with Sandra along the Avenue des Champs-Elysées, where there were shops of all kinds and anything anyone wanted could be found there. They passed by a very large furniture shop with a window display of fine leather sofas, a large elegantly carved four-poster bed of rich dark walnut and a seventy-two-inch flat-screen television. There was a smaller shop with long evening gowns draped across plastic mannequins and another with fur coats being modeled by live women.They walked through the busy streets past several more shops and stores, until Creighton turned them into the doorway of a salon, then pushed the etched glass door open. A very attractive blonde with large breasts sat behind a small glass counter. Several portraits of beautiful women and handsome men lined the walls around her, and the chairs that lined the reception area were see-through plastic of all colors, reminding her of photos she had seen in an old seventies’ magazine. The floor was a mosaic of tiny
Sandra lay at a reclined position on the table across a large pink sheet that covered the layer of leather. She was completely naked beneath a second sheet, feeling very awkward and slightly embarrassed as Creighton sat sprawled out across the chaise lounge, watching.Rochelle applied a thick layer of deep conditioner to Sandra’s long hair, massaging it into the strands and wrapping it securely inside a warm turban, then turned and sat next to Creighton on the chaise lounge. A young woman with shoulder length red hair named Brie, massaged Sandra’s shoulders and neck. Her nerves soon relaxed, her anxiety soothed away, leaving her feeling very pampered and so at ease that she nearly drifted off to sleep. The sounds of birds and wind chimes echoed softly from the speakers and Sandra sighed. The veil of slumber floated down upon her, but she woke full when she heard Rochelle ask the man exactly what he wanted done with his fiancée. “Ready?” Rochelle asked after Brie left, folding the she
“Was it as bad as it sounded?” he asked her, his hands pushing the pink sheet higher as his mouth continued to travel up her body.“It eventually got better, but yes, it hurt like hell.” Sandra gasped as he reached under the sheet on the table and released the lever to the leg braces, spreading them further apart. “We have got to get us one of these,” he told her, lifting the sheet up around her waist; moving to stand between her legs so he could admire her position. “We could spend many long, wonderful hours playing on this.”“Do you find perversion in everything you see?” she asked, her face stiff beneath the heavy layer of green-gray mud.“Damn straight, especially when you’re reclining on it,” he assured her, leaning in and kissing her soft brown curls. “Please, let Rochelle wax this. I want you hairless and smooth.”“But it hurts,” she argued, a little less forceful than she would have preferred. “I’ll make you very, very happy you did.”“But it hurts.”“Please?” he asked as th
By the time he had finished, Sandra’s skin was numb and hot. She was exhausted from the experience and ready to run and hide from embarrassment. Creighton rubbed an oily substance across her entire pubic area, being assured by Rochelle that this would prohibit the hair from growing back a few days longer, then told Sandra to roll to her stomach so they could finish her legs and her backdoor. “You mean you wax her arse as well?” Creighton asked boldly once Sandra was lying on her stomach; the restraint around her waist repositioned and her hands holding onto a set of bars under the table.“Absolutely,” Rochelle insisted. “Full, hairless and smooth. That’s the goal.”Half an hour later Sandra was sitting on the chaise next to Creighton, having had her legs and all her private parts waxed and oiled to perfection.“I’m very proud of you,” he told her, sipping on the white wine Rochelle’s assistant brought to them. “I never knew how intense something like this was.”“And to think our sist
She nodded, wrapped a sheet around her waist and sat back on the table, steadying herself for the stinging sensation of the needles. Rochelle removed the plastic cart and returned with another, this one holding a hose and air compressor. She smiled wickedly, biting her bottom lip and held tight to the bar above her head, praying her fiancée would approve of her gift.Sandra was nearly finished dressing when a knock sounded at the small door. She slipped her pants on carefully so not to irritate all that had happened to her pubic area, before turning and opening the door. Rochelle stood outside blocking the view of Creighton who waited in the reception area.“He’s here and he’s very anxious to see you,” she smiled. Sandra sighed, quickly slipping her feet back in her sandals. “I can’t wait to hear what he has to say.” Rochelle closed the door and walked away with a bright smile, leaving Sandra alone again. With a deep breath, she gathered her bag with the makeup kit, waxing materials
The tattooist spoke to her in French and Sandra suddenly became fascinated with her as she walked around Creighton, looking at the drawing. She smiled at him as he sat down in the seat next to Sandra, removing his shirt to reveal his muscled chest and flat stomach. Sandra narrowed her eyes as she watched the woman assemble the supplies, glancing repeatedly to him. She actually found herself wanting to shout at the girl to keep it professional. The man belonged to her.“Green eyes suit you very well, my love,” Creighton told her, watching her expression. She glanced back to him and saw the amusement on his face and blushed yet again.The two artists began their cleaning of the skin and Sandra watched as they removed sterile tips from a silver box on the counter, she assumed was a sterilizer, attaching them to long tubes and began filling them with ink. The man sat in a chair behind Sandra and began to sketch the design on her back, before pressing a switch somewhere on the floor. She l
They walked together toward a large storefront about half-way down the block. Creighton opened the door and like before, stepped aside to allow her to enter first. Sandra looked around and smiled. There were large portraits of children, families and individual men and women decorating the walls. A small wooden desk sat near a thick black drape.“Very nice work,” she said as she inspected the pictures.“You like them?” he asked, and she nodded. “These are my brother’s kids,” he said pointing at the portrait of three children, two young girls and a boy. The youngest girl looked to be about two and had short dark blonde hair as did her brother who looked to be the eldest, around five or six perhaps. The older girl, she guessed to be around four, had dark-brown hair that curled in ringlets around her neck. Each had the same dark-blue eyes as Creighton and smiled cheerfully from a bench in front of a garden setting.“This is my brother Derek and his wife Kristin,” Creighton said, pointing
“No,” she nearly shouted. “I can’t do this without you.” Creighton chuckled, kissing her cheek.“Go change. I want you in the violet outfit first, with the stockings and sandals.” He kissed her lips briefly, before turning her toward the closed door and patting her bottom.Sandra stepped through the door behind the camera and set the bags down. The room was not very large, but sufficient with a long vanity and lighted mirror for makeup application, a settee for comfort and several coat hooks to hang clothes on. The walls were encased in mirrors, so she could examine their reflection from every angle.She pulled the items out of the bags and hung them on the hooks. There was a black and red silk teddy, a pale pink negligee and robe, two pairs of thigh-high hose, one dark and the other a suntan, and two lacy garters, one sky blue the other a bright sunflower yellow. There was a bra and panty set of see-through beige and lace, a pair of clear high-heeled sandals with crystal straps, and
Sandra hung up the phone with a slam, then glanced to her grandparents who were sitting at the kitchen table. She was starting to get angry with all the rejections and dead-end avenues. She called Davies and told him she wanted him to get the plane ready to go to France, only to be told the police had restricted his flying. They were concerned that whomever it was that had killed her husband would try and sabotage the jet.She was getting frustrated and felt like she was being held back. If she didn’t know better, she would think she was being placed under lockdown. She could understand the police’s concern, but she had more men around her then they had at Fort Knox, and she would be willing to take all of them with her if she needed to.“I can’t leave the house, I can’t go to France, I can’t even gather eggs,” she grumbled as she joined the older couple. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t sit here and wait until doomsday to find out what happened to my husband.”“Honey, you’re going
The room was warm as the setting sun shone through the blinds. Two detectives sat on the sofa, watching as the man continued to pace the floor. Trying to keep him calm was growing increasingly harder with each hour.Creighton could only assume the horror his family was going through, not to mention Sandra. They had been having difficulties, but this made all of that seem trivial. He had to call her, he had to contact her somehow and let her know he was alive, but the police were refusing to allow him the chance. They had to keep him concealed for the time being, though it was steadily becoming impossible. The man was acting like a caged animal, anxiously trying to find a means of escape.“How much longer do we have to sit here?” he growled, looking to those gathered around.“We need you to remain patient for a little longer,” a bald-headed man told him. “Monsieur Ashford, we understand what you’re going through…”“Like hell you do,” Creighton snapped. “I have a pregnant wife at home w
“I know she’ll be happy when it’s over,” Emma said, returning to the room, her eyes red from the tears she’d been wiping away. “She can’t let Brandon go to school, and she has to keep the children inside instead of letting them go out to play.”“I’m sure they are going stir crazy,” Cathy said with a frown. “Especially Grace. That little girl is used to having the freedom of the farm to run and play.”“The only good thing is the weather,” William told them. “It’s been really wet, and she doesn’t like getting her dresses dirty.”“Sounds like her aunt,” Andrew said with a soft chuckle.“Maybe we should take this meeting over to my sister’s,” Cathy suggested with a sideways grin.“Let me call Derek and Kristin,” William said, standing and walking to the phone on the wall. “They wanted to know what you found out.”“Just have them meet us at Sandra’s,” Andrew told him. “We can discuss this all there.”“I thought Sabrina and Irena would be here,” Cathy said, looking at Emma who was wrapping
Parker and Harvey held off the reporters for as long as they could alone, then eventually had to call NHT’s security. Within a few short hours, there were enough burly looking men to scare off anyone trying to get near the house. Sandra kept her children inside, though it really wasn’t difficult. The rain had eased by supper, but just like the past several days, it picked up again this morning.Max growled as he laid of the entry. The noise of cameras clicking, and the soft hum of voices mingled among the breezes of the day. She had tried to watch television, but every station was reporting on the accident. Eventually, she had no choice but to surrender and put on Grace’s favorite princess movie. At least it kept them from listening to those who insisted that there was no hope in finding any answers this soon.Sandra drew a deep breath as she wiped the moisture from her forehead. She had decided to keep herself busy and baked two apple pies, along with nearly a hundred sugar cookies.
“No, it’s about assuming you knew what I would want. You did this, claiming it was for us when it was for you. You can’t stand the idea that your little sister has something you never would. It was bad enough when I felt like I was competing with Creighton for your attention, but now I’m watching you compete with Sandra for the mother of the year award.”“Stop comparing me to Sandra!” Cathy screamed. “It’s not my fault she’s perfect. She’s always been everyone’s favorite. I can’t tell you how many boyfriends I’ve dumped after I found out they were using me to get close to her. I didn’t want Creighton, but after he chose her over me, it made me angry. I was competing with her again, and she was too stupid to realize it. He chose that simple, no makeup, no fuss girl over me. She shares his bed, when I’m a better lover then she would ever be. She has his money, his admiration, your parents’ admiration, even my grandparents enjoy spending time with her over me. She even has a perfect body
“Maybe Michelle heard from him,” the boy said hopefully.“I haven’t spoken with her, but I want to call in the morning. She may know something more than the police do.”The two were silent for a long time as they considered their own thoughts, until Sandra realized the tea was gone. She looked to Brandon who looked like he was finally able to fall asleep, then stood and took the cups to the sink.“Come on, son,” she told him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. “Let’s see if we can get some sleep.”“Mum, can I come sleep with you?” Brandon asked once they reached the second floor of their house.Sandra smiled and hugged the boy, nodding as he looked up to her.“You can sleep on your daddy’s side,” she told him. “Just don’t tell him I let you in our bed. He may get jealous.”Brandon smiled as he walked with her into the bedroom. Sandra helped him between the covers and tucked him in, then left to check on Grace. The house was silent and soft snores of her little girl could be heard
Sandra paced her bedroom trying to stop her mind from racing through the events of the day. Derek had come home after his mother called him, insisting on picking up Brandon from school. Sabrina called to say the reporters were going crazy with the news of the Tornado’s fire and that she and Giovanni would be home as soon as they could get there.Irena spoke with her parents and insisted on calling in a prescription for Sandra’s nerves, though she refused to use it. She needed to stay alert and concentrate in order to determine what was going on. The last thing she needed was to surrender to the effects of a drug.After speaking with Andrew, William informed the rest of the family about Cathy’s surgery, though he wouldn’t go into detail. He assured them he would check into the reports from his end and stay abreast of the investigation. Once Cathy felt like traveling, they would drive out to Yorkshire to be with the family.Nana tried to get Sandra to let her stay overnight, but she was
Sandra opened her eyes and looked around. She was in her bedroom, yet she couldn’t remember laying down. The house was silent and the soft pattering of rain outside reminded her that the dog had made a muddy mess of the entry. Then she remembered her grandfather and William coming over, and slowly began to piece together the last thing she remembered.There had been an accident on the Tornado and three bodies were found. She knew in her heart it wasn’t Creighton. She couldn’t even begin to guess who would have been on their ship, or how it ended up at sea, but she knew her husband wasn’t the one killed. Now all she had to do, was convince the others into believing her.Sandra stepped down the stairs to hear Grace talking to her great-grandfather, the dog running from one room to another as he chased his rope and the smells of food drifting out of the kitchen. She stepped into the living room and saw Papa sitting beside Grace, one of her own books open in front of him as he listened to
Sandra stared at the two men for a long moment as their words began to sink in. When she spoke with her husband earlier that morning, he was still at the hotel. He didn’t mention having plans of returning to the yacht. Why would he go back there when he told her he was packing to come home?Then she thought about the bodies found. One was female. Who was it? Did Creighton lie to her about not being involved with Garcon’s assistant? Had he gone there to meet with her, perhaps a final rendezvous before coming home to his family?“Did you hear what we said?” Papa asked her.“It’s impossible,” she began, her anger taking over her words. Sandra looked down at Grace who was trying to wipe the muddy water from her little dress. She hadn’t understood what her grandparents were saying. All she cared about was her soiled outfit.“Sweetheart, go upstairs and find a clean dress,” Sandra told the little girl. “Put that one in the hamper and warsh your hands. We’ll make lunch when you’ve finished.