then subjected her to a great deal of hand wringing and apologizing that the hotel food was not to the Count's liking. Laila was in no mood to listen to his whining but she couldn't exactly tell him to shut up no matter how much she wanted to. Fancy manners really were nothing but a nuisance. She thought of Florian with his bland smile and endless supply of conversations about nothing, behaving exactly as "polite" society and his mother had trained him. It was infuriating sometimes, watching him hide his real personality under a mask of polite formality.
Even Ray played the game, she admitted, putting on a show of airs and graces when she could tell by his body language that he wanted to lash out at someone, or at least slice them with his cutting wit. He was much too intelligent for such dull-witted people and the petty games they played at these society events. Yet he had to subject himself to their watchful eyes and whispered gossip in order to do business with them. And business he did, making a fortune off the very people who thought themselves right to cast judgment on him. The same people who gambled and drank away their fortunes and sold their own children into slavery to preserve the illusion of their honor.
Laila often wondered what it would be like to grow up in the rigid confines of the aristocracy. She couldn't imagine it no matter how hard she tried √ having only her own childhood and stories of Ray's on which to base her fantasies. There was Noel, of course, but the child could hardly be considered typical of the upper class with his dead stepmother having been a ranking member of the criminal organization,
The Black Hand, and his father in jail for embezzling from his own bank. Florian had taken temporary custody of the boy while his father was in jail and now he lived with the rest of them in Ray's mansion and considered himself part of Noir's gang.
Still, thanks mostly to Florian and a parade of tutors, the boy was being groomed for polite society and already he was losing a bit of his carefree recklessness. It bothered Laila but she didn't say anything, it wasn't her place to interfere with the kid's future.
Especially since, when she was Noel's age, she was convinced she didn't have a future.
Born in Carthage, she was the second girl child in a family that couldn't afford children, especially not girls. Her father and mother worked hard for their meager earnings and for a while they managed to have a place to live and enough food to eat. But Laila's father developed a fondness for opium and soon there was very little food and nowhere for them to live. The craving for the drug made her father desperate, and the last memories she had of him were as a hollow-eyed wraith moaning and crying on the ground, his hands reaching out for them as Laila's mother pulled the girls a way. The next time Laila saw her father, he was dead, his eyes open and staring up at the sky, his face twisted into a mask of pain. It was an image she still saw in her nightmares.
Laila didn't remember much of the short time between her father's death and and her being sold. She remembered her mother putting on the best of her two remaining garments, arranging her hair carefully and scenting her skin with the moisture from fragrant crushed leaves. She hid the two girls in the corner of an empty building and told them to be quiet and wait. When she returned, she brought them each a piece of sweet bread and a handful of dates and kissed them. Early the next day men came and threw coins at their mother's feet before taking the girls away. By evening Laila had been sold.
Sometimes, on particularly cold and bitter days when Laila had too little to occupy her mind, she wondered whatever happened to her family. Did that pitiful handful of coins give her mother a chance at a better life or did it just delay the inevitable? Did her sister ever gain √ or take √ her freedom like Laila had? Laila tried not to think about it too much, forbidding herself little details to keep the emotions dampened √ like refusing ever to refer to her sister by name,
or forgetting the color of her mother's eyes. Sometimes it worked and Laila gladly locked all those memories away until they once again broke free.
"My lady?" It was the manager again and Laila cursed herself for allowing her thoughts to distract her. She was supposed to be keeping her eyes and ears open, not wallowing in the past. Ray had freed her and she had pledged her life to him; that was the only thing that mattered. It was the only thing that would ever matter.
"The food's here?" Laila asked impatiently, glancing past the man for any sign of their dinner.
"Not yet. Would you allow me to have the wait staff deliver tea and some plain biscuits to your room while you wait?"
Laila couldn't imagine Florian objecting to tea so she nodded,
deciding to let the manager do his job which was to make sure that the food was delivered. She was tired of sitting in the lobby and she was tired of these shoes.
XXXXX
"Just water, please," Florian requested, declining the cup of tea Laila offered. She thumped it down on the cart a bit more forcefully than necessary and stomped off to get him some water. She liked Florian but sometimes she grew weary of catering to the little prince.
Watching Ray hover over the blond just made it worse. He'd never hovered over her like that √ not that she'd ever be weak enough to require hovering √ but still.
With a huff she put the glass down on the small table beside Florian's chair and claimed his teacup for her own. She sipped at the liquid finding it a bit stronger than she usually preferred, but certainly drinkable. But then, she wasn't as delicate as some people. A little sugar and it was fine.
Ray had already finished his tea and biscuits and was eyeing Florian's untouched plate. The blond seemed more alert than he had earlier in the day but he still seemed distracted, as if he couldn't keep his attention on the here and now.
"You should eat," Ray suggested, sounding a little annoyed. He had intended this trip to Brussels to be something of a working vacation but it was turning into nothing but aggravation and mystery. The return of Florian's nightmares from his time in Morocco, after all this time was especially troubling. Ray had experienced his own share of those at the time and didn't care to relive any of them. The fact that they were bothering Florian so intensely now amidst all these other events hinted at very bad things to come. Ray did not consider himself a superstitious man, but he was starting to wish he'd never heard of The Pleiades.
"Did you learn anything more about the sapphires?" Florian's voice was rough and he took a sip of water to clear his throat. He seemed to be making a supreme effort to focus his attention.
"Nothing useful," Ray answered curtly. "And nothing about the bank account either." He frowned when Florian leaned forward and silently offered him the plate of biscuits. Without comment, Ray took one of the biscuits and passed the other to Laila.
"How many of the sapphires do you have now? I've lost count." Florian took another sip of water then set the glass down, pushing it away as if he didn't want it anymore.
"There's the two small blue stones in Noel's bear," Laila offered.
"The light blue stone from Spain, and the white Noir acquired here in Brussels. Then there's the bluish-purple stone found in your pocket,
and the white found on the bathroom floor."
"So we only need one more light blue sapphire to complete the Pleiades." Florian looked around the room as if he expected to see it lying out in the open. When he turned back to them his eyes were haunted. "Did you check the rest of my belongings?"
"Why would we?" Ray asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to understand what Florian was thinking. Florian looked at them a long moment before answering.
"Because I can't remember what happened to me this morning √ how I was injured or how the sapphire ended up on the bathroom floor. I don't know how the sapphire got into my pocket with a receipt saying I'd purchased it, and I certainly don't know what millions of francs are doing in my account when the only money I have is what you've given me, Ray. I don't understand any of it, I just know that the last stone is going to show up and when it does┘" He looked at both of them, his face flushed with emotion and his chest heaving, as if he'd been exerting himself. "...I know that something terrible is going to happen."
Florian snatched up the water and drained the glass, then wiped at his eyes, embarrassed by his outburst and his irrational fears. He had thought he was better now, that he could be strong enough to support his lover, to be worthy of him. But he felt like a weakling and a failure,
as if he'd never be anything but a burden. As if... As if Laila had been right all along and he was nothing but a primped up pet who'd never be worthy of Ray's love.
The thought chilled him to his core and made his insides twist.
Gritting his teeth he fought back the waves of nausea and panic. He would not make a spectacle of himself again. He was pathetic enough already. Rising unsteadily, he kept his eyes focused above their heads, not able to meet their eyes, afraid of seeing contempt in Laila's and pity in Ray's.
"Excuse me while I freshen up before dinner. I'm sure it will arrive soon." He left the room at a moderate pace and managed to hold back his tears until the bathroom door was closed.
XXXXX
"He's right," Laila said finally after an uncomfortable silence. She rose briskly and looked down at Ray, who appeared to be deep in thought. He looked up at her and nodded, understanding her meaning at once.
"We should check all of the luggage, not just Florian's, and search these rooms as well. I'm not sure why someone wants to harm Florian,
but it's clear that someone's plotting against him, perhaps as a way to get to me. I'd suspect our old friend Solomon Sugar, but I know for a fact the man is in England at the moment."
"But they gave him a receipt for that sapphire so Florian can't be accused of stealing it, even if the store owner claims he's never seen it. And the other stone was just left on the bathroom floor. Florian claims he doesn't remember how he was hurt but what if he fell in the bathroom and someone moved him to the bed? They could have dropped the stone by accident. It blends right in with the tile floor. I almost stepped on it myself."
"I don't know yet. It's almost as if there are two different forces at work here but it all feels as if they are trying to isolate Florian.
His sudden illness and erratic behavior have to be connected. He claims the food here doesn't taste right so I'd suspect he's being drugged but we've been eating it too and both of us are fine.
"That's simple enough to test," Laila said with a feeling of relief that something about this mess might be easily resolved. "We make sure he doesn't eat or drink anything from this hotel all day tomorrow. If he's better, we can try another day. Better yet, we might want to change hotels."
"I thought of that, but there are too many unanswered questions and staying here might be the best way to get some answers. We'll just have to watch him carefully tomorrow and get him out of the hotel as much as possible."
"We could always taste his food?"
"I'd rather not take that chance. If he really is being drugged we can't risk either of us being exposed as well." We both need to be clearheaded to find out what's really happening here.
Laila agreed readily, not really anxious to expose herself to whatever was causing Florian's odd behavior.
They parted ways to search their luggage and rooms, agreeing that Laila would return as soon as the food arrived.
"I hope it gets here soon," she said emphatically. "I'm starved"
XXXXX
"This is really good," Florian said with a note of relief in his voice. He finished his soup and devoured his chicken entrИe with a speed and enthusiasm that rivaled Laila's. Ray was rather amused by the two of them but it didn't take him much longer to clear his plate as well. Afterward, they kept their conversation on the upcoming opera and the sights that Florian and Laila intended to see. They had another week left in Brussels and would return to Paris the day after the Countess Kourey's party.
"I wish you'd come with us to the museum," Florian said with a note of pleading in his voice. He really did want to see more of the artwork there and had been disappointed to realize his distraction on his previous visit had prevented him from seeing a few pieces he really wanted to see.
"If you're better, and can get yourself up and moving tomorrow, I'll go." Ray gave Florian his best grin when the blond gave him an open-mouthed stare. "I hear they have an excellent selection of rare gems."
Florian groaned and shook his head but he knew Ray was teasing. It made him feel warm inside and he smiled back with a hint of devil in his eyes. Ray knew that look and he knew what it meant. Florian was feeling much better.
Laila knew that look too and she took it as her cue to retire for the night. She was tired, and despite herself, she was still bothered by too many mysteries and too few answers. She was used to Ray being able to solve things quickly, his razor sharp mind dissecting complex riddles with ease. Now that they were faced with something he couldn't instantly solve, it left her unsettled.
"Breakfast at eight," she told them sternly, suspecting that neither of the men would get much sleep. Regardless, she wasn't going to let them delay her morning meal again.
"Good night, Laila." They chorused, giving her matching smiles.
Normally one of them would escort her to her door but neither of them seemed able or willing to pull away from the other to even consider it. She gave them a look and slammed the door on her way out.
Ray was tempted to bring out the whip again but settled for a pair of silk ties instead. He wanted to free Florian from thinking, to drive him beyond rational thought to the point where the only thing that mattered was heat and friction and need. Ray could use a little of that himself.
"Stop," he commanded when Florian started to undress. Immediately the blond complied, standing with his hands at his sides, unmoving as he waited for Ray to command him. They played their roles willingly,
silently thankful that they didn't have to explain to each other what they needed or why √ just that they could fill each other's needs instinctively.
Ray, who'd spent too much of his young life under someone else's control before meeting Azura, drew strength from Florian's eager compliance with Ray's need to dominate. And Florian, who'd never lived outside the rigid confines of his mother's and society's rules needed the safety of that domination. He wasn't weak, in fact, living with Ray had strengthened him in ways Florian had never imagined for himself, but he loved knowing he could surrender and Ray would keep him safe.
"I will undress you," Ray said sternly as he laid two silk ties on the bed and walked towards Florian. He moved gracefully, like a panther,
and Florian watched every move, devouring it with hungry eyes.
Ray's hands were warm on his skin, their power an aphrodisiac. Only strong self-discipline kept Florian from dropping to his knees right then.
"Patience," Ray scolded a note of humor in his voice. He knew his lover so well. "I will allow you to pleasure me but only after you beg."
And beg Florian did, first as Ray undressed him with agonizing slowness and later when he was tied, naked and eager to the bed. His eyes were dark with desire and his body was trembling under Ray's teasing hands. It started with a whimper breaking free of his control and escalated until he was writhing helplessly, tears in his eyes,
desperate need chasing away all rational thought.
"Please please please." It was a mindless chant finally silenced when Ray straddled him and pressed his erection to Florian's lips. The blond nearly sobbed as he took his lover's flesh into his mouth. It took every bit of the self control he had left for Florian to set aside his own want and concentrate only on pleasuring Ray. He was far beyond reason when he was rewarded with Ray's release.
He was shaking now, the feel of Ray withdrawing and moving downward causing him to cry out. After several moments of rest, Ray kissed him then pressed a cloth into his mouth.
"We don't want to wake the other guests," Ray whispered into Florian's ear just before he bit down hard on the earlobe. Florian arched up in pain and Ray used that to his advantage, shifting back and grabbing Florian's hips. He'd been preparing Florian throughout their lovemaking and now he slid inside in one thrust. Florian's eyes went wide and he screamed, although the cloth caught all but the smallest sound.
There were no caresses now, no intimate little whispers. It was all frantic motion and grasping hands. There was heat and sweat and the sound of flesh against flesh that filled the room until it seemed louder than any scream.
When Ray finally allowed Florian to come, the blond was so grateful he sobbed, nearly choking on the gag but Ray loosened it as he drove himself into Florian one last time and their lips came together just as Ray let himself go.
They lay together sweaty and too sated to move until Ray remembered the ties. He shifted slightly and reached up to free his lover. He was rewarded by a sleepy smile and those beautiful amethyst eyes watching him with love and tenderness.
Ray kissed Florian on the nose just to make him laugh and reached over to untie the other wrist. Making a face at the hopelessly wrinkled ties, Ray tossed them off the bed and laid his head down on Florian's chest. He listened to the steady heartbeat as it slowed into its regular rhythm, letting it relax him. He was almost asleep when he realized they'd both be more comfortable in a different position. He slid off Florian and onto the mattress. He reached blindly for the blankets and pulled them up, grinning when he heard Florian's soft snore. Reaching over to turn out the light he paused and grabbed his watch.
Laila's not going to be happy but there's no way we'll be up on time for breakfast, he decided, already picturing her expression and the hands on hips, foot tapping annoyance they'd be greeted in the morning.
She'd survive, he decided, as the lure of Florian's warm body drew him towards sleep. She'd had plenty of practice.
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:end part 10: