LOOONG chapter ahead guys. I hope it isn't just a loada shizzle. The amazing reviews I got yesterday were so amazing that I got the sudden bought of inspiration I needed to finish this off. Enjoy and please let me know what y'all think!
Klema4Ever: OMG! YOU'RE BACK! I was wondered where you'd gone! First I thought maybe aliens abducted you. Then I wondered if maybe some demon had dragged you to the deepest depths of hell. Finally, I had to resign myself to the possibility that you'd just grown bored of my stuff.
BUT YOU'RE BACK! AND YOU NEED TO MAKE AN ACCOUNT SO I MAY HARASS YOU WITH LENGTHY, CRAZY REPLIES!
I hope you're well. I missed your reviews - they were always such a pleasure to read. Did you catch up on Nightfall? If so, I hope you'll give me your thoughts on it. Thanks for your review on AGF. I agree with you on the dress... But we'll see what the wedding has in store for us... (even I'm not sure).
I hope you don't disappear on us again! Stay with us this time and if you enjoy Nightfall, make sure to join the FB page! (shameless self-advertising)
Love y'all!
P.S. frazzled from all the writing and reading so I don't care if I'm being stupid and erratic.
Unprepared
It was a cold morning. The air was chilly and bit into her skin as Ema locked her front door. Her fingers, which were already cold from a lack of warm water, trembled violently and the key kept missing its mark.
"Damn it," she muttered under her breath, bringing her fingers up to her mouth and blowing on them in an effort to warm her skin but she barely felt it. With a frustrated sigh, she lowered the key once more however when she tried to focus on firmly jabbing it in the lock, her shivering retuned with vengeance.
What the hell was wrong with her? It wasn't that cold.
"Allow me."
Ema spun around to confront the British accent and found herself face to face with Seren Aded, the Gavinner's keyboardist. She blinked at him, confused by his presence (why would he be standing on her porch?) but he'd already leaned forward and plucked the key out from in between her fingers, neatly inserting it into the lock. She looked this way and that, expecting a horde of fan-girls to jump them despite the fact that the street was empty and it was just after 7:30 AM.
"Miss Skye," he said, pulling her attention back to his smiling face, "I hope you're well."
She didn't know how to respond to that; Ema had had little need to talk to him since starting to work for Klavier and she didn't know him. Although, if the media was anything to go by (her jaw clenched at THAT thought), Seren was by far the nicest of the Gavinners. He had always been referred to as a gentleman of the highest degree and she had to admit that on the few occasions she'd spoken to him, he'd been sweet.
"What are you doing here?" she asked not unkindly.
Seren's smile turned a little guilty and he nodded towards the road where his impressive car was awaiting. "I'm your escort."
Ema's eyes bugged out. "My—what?"
"Klavier wants me to take you to him."
Her insides suddenly burst into flames at his name and she wondered how she could have been cold less than five minutes ago. "I can get into work without an escort."
"I don't think you'll be going to work today, Miss Skye," he said with a serious look. "Klavier isn't at work either. He wants me to take you to him so you can both make preparations."
She didn't know what bothered her more: being told she was off work or that Seren knew about her marital status. For a moment she contemplated arguing against his instructions but Seren was shaking his head, apparently having guessed her intentions. "Please don't," he said gently. "Tomorrow, your engagement will be announced in every newspaper and magazine on this side of the world. You have to be ready for it."
A deluge of horror flooded her at the thought; in 24 hours she would become an international celebrity because of her newly acquired status as Gavin's bride-to-be.
Were they going to follow her around? Were they going to ask her questions? Was she going to be criticised? They would know — they would know it was a sham, that Klavier wouldn't really fall in love with someone like her…
What the hell am I thinking? her internal voice screamed. I can't deal with this! It's too much! It's too—
"Miss Skye," Seren's voice broke into her terrified train of thought. She looked up at him, confused by the unexpectedly comforting look in his eye. "Let's go to my car. You need to get warm."
Dazed, Ema let him guide her to the green vehicle. He opened the door for her, waiting until she slid inside before slamming it shut. As if her mind knew exactly what she needed to find her courage again, her eyes sought out her house.
That was why she was doing this — she would do anything to preserve her parent's last gift.
The slam on the driver's side caught her attention and she threw a glance at Seren. She expected him to look at her weirdly: surely he was wondering what the hell was going on? Maybe he even knew what she had done to warrant the current circumstances. Did he think she was a trouble-causer? A loudmouth?
But even as she surveyed him, contemplating the thoughts that could possibly be running through his mind, Seren glanced at her, throwing a friendly smile her way. "Seat-belt?"
She silently complied, pulling it across her chest and settling back against the seat as he brought the engine to life, slowly pulling out onto the road. His fingers (which she couldn't help but notice were long and masculine) reached out to hit a few buttons and the rushing sound broke the silence just as warmth overtook the cool air.
"Thanks," she said gratefully, extending her hand towards the heater.
"It is bloody freezing out there," he said conversationally.
Ema said nothing in response. What could she say really? She'd never spoken to Seren Aded outside of a professional capacity and now she was suddenly engaged to his best friend. So, as the flow of the heat filled the silence, she was thankful for the white noise. It somehow made the awkwardness of the situation more bearable.
The detective looked out of the window, watching the world flow by in a haze of colours as she moved further towards her destination. What did Klavier want to prepare exactly? She dreaded to find out. She dreaded the moment her sister learnt of the engagement… What would she say? Telling Lana about his ultimatum had crossed her mind: Ema could have transferred the deed to Lana's name. If the house wasn't Ema's, Klavier couldn't touch it.
But there were two problems.
One was that Lana would demand to know why she wanted to do such a thing. There was no doubt in her mind that Lana would fight Klavier tooth and nail if she knew what he'd threatened Ema with — she might even have won. But Klavier had made it clear he would target Lana's past in his attack and Ema knew that, even though seven years had passed, that case still haunted her sister. She had worked hard to get herself back on her feet after being released from prison, had worked hard to find some normality in her life after all those years of manipulation, lies and fear. Klavier would stab Lana in a wound still fresh and hurt her deeply.
And Ema wasn't going to let her mistake disrupt the contentment of Lana's life.
The other problem was that, even if Ema made it impossible for Klavier to take much away from her, there was still the problem of all those journalists he would hit. He hadn't been lying when he'd said he could hit them with more libels than they could handle — she was well aware of the trash they published about him and how far his patience had been tried in ignoring it — so his threat seemed far from empty. He would attack them and it would be her fault. She knew that Klavier had probably guessed she might attempt to transfer all her property to Lana and had added this threat because it would lay heavy on her conscience; she'd been the cause of enough trouble all those years ago. Try as she might, Ema could not deny the fact that she was the reason why Lana had forged the evidence she had, why Lana had fallen into the trap Gant had so carefully constructed. She'd brought more than her share of shame to the Skye name. She couldn't handle any more.
No, there was no other way around this. As much as it terrified her, she was going to have to become accustomed to the idea of being… being famous. She would have to endure the same lifestyle Klavier did.
Which was obviously his intent.
"He'll protect you, you know." Ema looked at Seren, startled out of her musings; his expression was serious. "Klavier, I mean. He'll keep the media away from you as much as he can."
"I doubt it," she muttered.
"Don't," he told her. "It's why he sent me to get you — to minimise the risk of the paparazzi harassing you. They're hounding him like crazy since yesterday's article otherwise he would have come himself. He doesn't want you to get caught up in all that right now."
Ema's face flushed with shame even as gratitude filled her. She didn't think she could have dealt with cameras and questions. Her mind couldn't even comprehend the idea that someone might be so interested they'd follow her around until they'd snapped a picture to slap on a magazine… Her eyes widened with horror. Would they follow her everywhere? Was she going to have to keep an eye out for them? Was she going to have to be careful in everything she did?
Is… this what Klavier lived with every day?
"I'm going to take you to Deston's place. Klavier will meet you there once he shakes the buggers off."
"Deston?" she echoed, the name adding to her panic. Another Gavinner? What the hell was Klavier trying to do to her?
Okay. Stupid question.
"It's the closest, out-of-town house any of us have," Seren explained in an apologetic voice. "You'll have some peace and quiet to work things out."
She decided not to point out that the phrase 'working things out' implied some measure of free will and freedom of speech.
"Do you mind if I put some music in?" he asked politely.
"As long as it's not Gavinner music," she grumbled thinking of Klavier before realising with a horrific jolt that she was insulting Seren. "Wait, I didn't mean—"
Seren was chuckling. "It's alright, Miss Skye," he reassured her. "I understand Klavier's voice is the last thing you want to listen to."
Ema looked at him in surprise. "You know?"
Seren didn't answer for a moment but then the car slowed as the traffic lights descended to their crimson warning. He turned to her and nodded. "I know."
"You must think we're insane," she muttered, looking out the window. "Me for opening my trap, I mean, and him for proposing."
Another brief pause and she saw him shake his head out of the corner of her eye. "It's not my place to judge, Miss Skye. We're his friends — we offer him our thoughts and if he doesn't listen..." He shrugged. "That's his call. He's a big boy."
"And me?" Ema said, feeling miserable.
Seren threw her a kind smile as he glanced back at the road, taking the car forward through the alternating light. "I hope you'll come to think of us as friends too." She was taken aback by the response but when she looked at him, his smile only widened. "Personally, Miss Skye," he said in a suddenly conspiratorial voice, "I think it took a lot of guts to do what you did."
She recognised his attempt at trying to make her feel better and couldn't help feeling a little grateful. She knew, even though he wasn't saying it, that he thought her actions had been wrong but by making a joke out of it, he was demonstrating his objectivity and setting her at ease.
"Call me, Ema," she said with the first hint of a smile.
.'.
It seemed Deston had made a habit of always being on the other side of any door Ema tried to enter — or so she thought until she reminded herself that this was his (very impressive) home. The stubborn detective tried not to show her awe as she walked through it, her eyes quickly scanning her surroundings, and she decided that she liked his style. For all his yellow clothes before the Gavinners' disbanding, Ema was surprised by the snow-white interior of his house (manor? mansion? castle?).
"Did you have breakfast?" Deston asked pleasantly.
"I'm fine," she said automatically.
"I have to leave you in his capable hands, Ema," Seren said from behind her and Ema turned to look at him, feeling her heart sink. "I have to get to work."
She didn't want to be left with another stranger-celebrity. She didn't want to be alone with Deston who, if his expression yesterday had been any sort of indication, definitely judged her. She wanted to go back to work where her scowl would shut most people up. She wanted to wake up from this nightmare.
"Okay, thanks," she said.
"I'll see you later," he reassured her before turning to Deston. "Better behave yourself, mate."
"Are you kidding me?" Deston laughed. "I was born well-behaved!"
Seren smiled at Ema. "He had his mum in and out of hospital throughout her pregnancy," he divulged as if this explained everything.
"Don't listen to him, Ema," Deston said in a surprisingly more genial tone than she'd heard the day before.
Their banter was interrupted, however, when Seren glanced at his beeping phone, frowning at the screen for a moment, and then shook his head. "Klavier got held up. He'll probably be another five minutes."
"Not to worry," Deston said, turning to Ema who looked at him questioningly. "We'll keep ourselves entertained, won't we Madame Fräulein?"
Oh good, she thought dryly. Another fop of Germanic proportions.
"See you lot later," Seren said, the keys in his hand jangling as he waved at them. Nodding at her one last time, he slipped out through the door and was gone, leaving her alone with Deston Cavatin, ex-drummer of the Gavinners, DEA agent and notorious charmer.
Or was that Raoul Adagio? She knew Daryan had been the womaniser of the group but she wasn't sure who ranked next on the list…
She sighed. I must be the only girl on the world who is having the worst time of my life here…
"Let's go to the kitchen, Ema," Deston said, casually pressing a hand to her back and gently leading her. "You don't mind if I call you Ema, do you? Given the circumstances, calling you Miss Skye seems odd."
"Ema's fine," she said as politely as she could.
"Is she now?" he teased.
She threw him a sideways look to see if he was mocking her but there was nothing except friendly cheer in his expression.
"You look awfully wary," he remarked, his eyes twinkling. "Is something the matter?"
"I'm just tired," she said, not entirely untruthfully. "I didn't sleep too well."
Deston's expression softened. "I don't suppose you did." She frowned at him, wondering what he meant by that, but his features had already rearranged themselves in a smile. "What did you…?"
His question trailed off mid-sentence as the doorbell resounded through the house and a frown formed between his eyes and he looked over his shoulder.
"That can't be K."
Her heart skipped a beat before promptly dropping into the deepest pits of her stomach. Could it be him? Seren had said Klavier was running late; surely five minutes hadn't already passed? "Are you expecting someone?" she asked hopefully.
Deston's eyes fell to her face and he gave her a long, searching look, clearly having heard the tone of her voice. Ema suddenly felt like she was naked beneath his piercing, silver gaze but before it could become too uncomfortable, he looked away abruptly.
"No," he said, walking away towards the sound as it rung through his house again. "I'll be back in a second."
She scrutinised her surroundings in an effort to ignore the nervousness suddenly permeating her system. She didn't want to think about the fact that Klavier was probably going to walk into this very room, that he was going to look at her with those cool eyes and try and talk to her about their wedding. She didn't want to think about the fact that the glimmerous fop of a boss she'd been verbally abusing for over a year was soon going to be her husba—
Ema choked on her thoughts.
Klavier Gavin was going to be her husband.
One of the most famous men in the world was going to be attached to her in the most intimate way — the world was going to be watching her, analysing her, speculating on their relationship and wondering how they'd got together. A sudden jolt of fear hit her: would they discover how it had happened? What would they do if they realised Klavier had blackmailed her into marriage because she's outed—
No. She was being illogical. The only other people who knew what she'd done seemed to be the Gavinners and Klavier's faith reassured her they would protect his secrets at all costs. And she hadn't told anyone. Klavier would never reveal anything to the press because he would want to protect his name. There was no way for that to get out and somehow, that made Ema feel better.
Strange. She hadn't realised just how ashamed she was of what she'd done until now, when she truly understood the kind of attention Klavier had to put up with.
"—throw them off, huh?"
Ema tensed at Deston's voice, her ears pricked for the answer even though her mind already knew who was going to respond.
"Ja."
Her heart sank and she turned away from the archway, as if not having to watch Klavier walk in would somehow make it easier to deal with his arrival.
"Did you get through to Akers?" Deston asked.
"Nein." Klavier sounded serious. "I hoped you would do that for me."
"Sure thing. I'll talk to her on the way to work."
"Are you certain she is trustworthy?"
"100%" Deston said firmly.
"Then I will leave it to you."
Their voices were closer, so close in fact that she knew he would be behind her in a matter of seconds and she would have to turn around and look him in the eye with no choice but to be content with her decision.
She had a split second to compose herself — she could hear their footsteps.
"Ema."
Her breath caught in her throat. His voice was civil but it rushed through her, setting her nerves on fire with apprehension. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and turned around to face him with as much aloofness as she could muster: his blue eyes were serious, entirely devoid of the twinkle that she'd become so accustomed to. His mouth, usually lifted at the corners in a perpetual smile, was set solemnly. It wasn't annoyed… it just wasn't smiling.
And it was weird.
"Hi," she said.
Nice. You sound so smooth, Ema.
"I apologise for being late," he said cordially. "I was hindered."
Though he didn't point out it was her fault, Ema still blushed. "It's fine."
"I'll leave you guys to it," Deston said, turning to Klavier. "You let yourself out."
"Ja," he answered his friend but his eyes were still fixed on Ema, intensely studying her.
"I'll see you later, Ema," Deston said, saluting her with a smile as he turned away. "Have a good day."
She didn't even answer him: she was too busy forcing herself to meet Klavier's gaze head on. She needed to get used to this or else he would use her hesitance against her and there was no way she would allow him to do that.
His appearance — she would get a hold of herself by concentrating on his appearance. Find something to criticise, she told herself. Her eyes travelled down the coat he was wearing. It was new, long, black and sleek, meant to shield against the cold still present outside. A plum-coloured shawl fell around his neck loosely, digging into the opening of his coat and underneath it, she could see that he had favoured a white shirt. His hair (which she now wished she'd ruined) framed his face flatteringly.
Unfortunately, he looked good. She couldn't find a single, physical flaw to focus on. Damn him.
His mouth lifted at the corner in an enigmatic smile and she knew he'd noticed her inspection. "Shall we?"
Suddenly realising she could no longer simply tell him to go to hell, Ema finally appreciated how easy she'd had it as his underling.
The house, she reminded herself. You're doing this for Lana. For Mom and Dad. You're doing this to preserve your link to them.
Klavier stepped aside and gestured to the doorway "Let's go."
Ema went.
.'.
"Why are we here?" she said in a curt voice, her eyes sweeping over the store: it was small, silent and empty but the few dresses and suits on display reeked of money. She glanced over her shoulder at Klavier who quietly shut the door and came to stand next to her.
"You are my fiancée," he said and despite the casual tone with which he said it, Ema's mouth went dry: she looked up at him at the same time he lowered his eyes to hers. "You have to dress the part."
A flush crept up her neck. How dare he insinuate she didn't dress well enough? "Excuse me, I—"
"Ema," he cut her off, his gaze turning intense. "Do not argue with me in public. The world will be watching us soon. You would not want anybody to suspect this marriage, would you?"
She wanted to slap him right across his mouth but knew that he was right. Their fates were entwined — if he suffered publicly, so would she. So, when Klavier's arm slipped around her waist, she could do nothing except purse her lips and allow him to lead her to the desk because they had no idea who could be listening in this small space.
"Smile," he whispered in her ear.
"I don't have a reason to smile."
"You are about to marry one of the most eligible bachelors in the world," he said quietly and then his tone turned sarcastic. "But more than that, you are about to marry the man you love. You have every reason to smile, ja?"
Ema pursed her lips. She wasn't going to rise to the bait.
Klavier reached out and knocked against the wooden surface of the desk before facing her with a shrug. "At the very least, you will shock your ex-boyfriend. That should be of some comfort."
Unexpectedly, Ema's heart leapt at the reminder of Colin and even though she knew her expressionless facade was crumbling in front of Klavier, she didn't care. She hadn't even thought about him. What would Colin do when he found out? Would he care? Would he regret letting her go? Would he come and try to stop her engagement?
And then a cold flash went through her: marrying Klavier meant she was giving up Colin forever. And the realisation that she'd still been holding on to her memory of him left her dreadfully disheartened.
"Ema," Klavier said, his low voice breaking into her thoughts and it was only the warning in the sound that made her look up: his eyes were burning holes into her. "I made a promise that I would never cheat on you." He paused as if letting the promise sink in, in case she hadn't digested it the first time. "I expect the same from you."
The words hit her like knives and a fresh wave of anger overtook her, drowning out her gloom. "I'm not a cheater," she said hotly. "Don't accuse me of—"
"Klavier!"
The voice caught both their attentions — the woman came flying through a veiled doorway, her mature face alight with happiness and her arms outstretched towards him. Klavier instantly reacted by flashing her his million-dollar smile and pressing a kiss on her hand. "Fräulein Smith," he greeted smoothly. "How are you?"
"All the better for seeing you, darling," she sang.
Huh. Interesting.
She was probably 20 years his senior and, to her credit, acting more like an overwhelmingly maternal figure than a desperate fangirl. Ema was so distracted by this unusual response (after all, anything with the slightest bit of oestrogen seemed to lather Klavier with sickly love) that it took her a moment to notice they were talking about her.
"This is Ema Skye," he said, winding his arm around her again. "My fiancée." She grimaced, fighting the urge to simultaneously slap him away and announce the blackmail under which she stood here. "Ema, this is Katherine Smith."
Katherine looked startled for a split second but seemed to take it in her stride. She smiled happily. "Congratulations!" she exclaimed, looking between them both. "I didn't even know you were in a relationship, Klavier!"
He flashed her another grin. "I wanted to keep her to myself," he said, turning to look down at her. "Besides, Ema hates publicity. Don't you, sweetheart?"
She heard the irony in his voice but ignored it. "It's nice to meet you," she said, turning to Katherine with as much genuineness as she could muster.
"The pleasure's all mine," Katherine said warmly. "Now how can I help?"
"I am announcing our engagement to friends tonight," Klavier explained with a chuckle. Ema fought to keep from looking at him in amazement; she didn't think Katherine would miss the expression at such close friend and her ignorance might come across as suspicious. "And tomorrow the rest will find out. I want the world to see her shine."
She couldn't help herself this time: she turned to look at him sharply but he was still engaged in the conversation with Katherine and ignored her.
"I want them to see her as I do," he said with a smile. "Radiant as the moon."
Ema gaped at him, unable to believe the words coming out of his mouth. What a—
"You're such a romantic," Katherine sighed at Klavier.
Ema resisted the urge to snort, remembering the most unromantic proposal in the history of mankind.
He laughed, clearly pleased by her remark and seemingly oblivious to Ema's derision. "I try."
"Any preferences?"
Klavier smiled at Ema again. "I will leave this to you, Fräulein Smith," he said. "She will require several dresses and suits. Money, of course, is of no consequence."
"Of course," Katherine echoed, nodding. "Not a problem darling, leave her with me."
Before she could protest, Katherine had taken Ema by the arm and was dragging her to the back of the store, leaving Klavier watching after her with something akin to amusement.
I'm going to shoot him, Ema thought bitterly, letting the chatty woman lead her away. He's going to pay for this.
.'.
Klavier was more than enjoying himself. Every time Katherine brought Ema out in a suit or dress, his appreciation of her body increased — if that was physically possible. At the very least, he found himself sizzling with need and desire. It didn't matter that she glared at him every time he nodded his approval; he simply got more and more comfortable with each passing moment, lounging in the chair. He knew it was frustrating her to have to endure his perusal in silence and he was relishing every twirl, every step that made her hips sway, the fabric tighten and hug the dip of her waist…
It didn't bother him that she'd demanded he keep his distance. Of course, he would never lay a finger on her against her will but there was no way she could spend a lifetime with him without touching him. And she would be his forever. He would make sure of that.
She would be his alone.
He recalled the warning he'd given her, the requirement of loyalty he'd placed before her, and the countering fury that had flared in her eyes: perhaps she underestimated his perceptiveness but Klavier had seen the look on her face at the mention of Colin. She still had feelings for her ex-boyfriend and it ate away at him. It pierced his ego.
Everything about her pierced his ego. She had a way of battering his pride and confidence like no one had since Serena.
It made for a perfect punishment really. If he was going to have to relive his past with his ex-girlfriend, Ema could too. Klavier suspected Colin would attempt to get in contact with her once he discovered their engagement but he had no intention of letting her go. It wasn't as though anything could make him release her from their bargain now but once that marriage certificate was in his hands, Klavier fully intended on making sure it was the only marriage she would ever enter into.
He didn't understand it but since seeing the way her expression had crumbled at the reminder of her ex-boyfriend, Klavier's macho pride had been burning. It wasn't the reaction that bothered him (after all, he'd been stung by jealous when he'd first found out about the boy), rather it was the strength of it that took him by surprise. He didn't spend too long lingering on it though — after all, she was going to be his wife, his partner. And he did harbour some feelings for her. It was only natural that he should be irritated.
I will make her forget Colin, he vowed as Ema reappeared, her slender form wrapped in another dress. She looked beautiful, he realised. Even though she was glaring at him with the force of a thousand infernos, Ema was beautiful.
They would look good together.
Klavier fixed her with his gaze, letting the intensity of his thoughts seep through his eyes as they met hers. He saw the fierceness of her expression falter and he knew she'd seen the look on his face.
I will make you forget everything.
.'.
Ema was horrified. She didn't know what was worse — the modelling she'd been forced to do for Klavier, the clothes and shoes she'd had to wear or the enormous price tag attached to them. When she tried to protest, he pierced her with a warning glance and when that didn't work, he threatened her with public display of affection.
The fop.
So, it was with a severely displeased expression that she allowed him to hush her into a car, now clad in completely different clothes to the one she'd been wearing when she'd left her house. He seemed entirely unaffected by her sullen silence as the chauffeur pulled them out onto the road: he was busy on his phone and ignored her for several long moments.
Probably checking out glimmerous pictures of his glimmerous self, she thought scathingly.
However, barely a blink after the thought had crossed her mind, he raised it to his ear and Ema felt her heart sink again.
"I am on my way… Ja. I would appreciate that, I do not want anybody learning of the engagement until it is time… Danke."
"What are you up to now?" she demanded sharply as soon as Klavier hung up.
"We must pick out an engagement ring, ja?" he said casually.
"What?"
Klavier gave her an arch look. "This surprises you?" he said somewhat patronisingly. "If you do not have a ring on your finger when the world finds out tomorrow, people will ask questions."
"Why tomorrow?" Ema asked, choosing to ignore his answer. "What the hell's the—"
"The hurry?" he guessed. "The faster the engagement is announced, the faster the media will forget what you revealed," he said with a shrug. "I am simply trying to undo the damage."
Ema opened her mouth to retort but realised, in the nick of time, that she was hardly in any position to argue. Ignoring the suspicious lift of Klavier's mouth, she turned away to look out the window but she could see him out of the corner of her eye and he was still staring at her.
"Those clothes look good on you, Ema," he complimented.
Automatically, her hands tugged at the skirt now fastened around her legs, cringing at the lacy material that hung from the hem ("Be careful," Katherine had warned her. "The lace will tear easily if it gets caught on anything.")
"I still don't think I needed to wear this right now."
"You cannot shop for your engagement ring in a lab coat," Klavier explained patiently. "It would look suspicious."
"Your obsession with appearances is annoying."
He quirked an eyebrow. "This, coming from you."
"What the hell does that mean?" Ema demanded.
"You lashed out just because you thought I had ruined your image by telling someone you kissed me." He shrugged. "It sounds to me as though appearances mean something to you as well."
"Not so much with clothes," she answered hotly. "I'm not as vain as you are."
"You have never had the world watching you."
She had nothing to say to that.
Shit.
Ema looked away again, resolving to keeping her mouth shut for the rest of her life.
"Besides," he continued, "you are a part of my life in the limelight. Until the media finds somebody else to hound, you must take care. We do not want them to publish anything unsavoury. You will learn the importance of taking care to be, ah, vain."
Another jolt of fear caused her to look at Klavier. He was right — she would have to be careful now. They would all be watching, waiting for her to trip up... The thought knocked the breath out of her. She wasn't prepared for the decision she'd made but she had no other choice.
Losing her family home was not an option.
"There is no need to worry, Ema," Klavier said in a quiet voice and she looked at him, somewhat taken aback: was that gentleness she heard in his voice? "I will protect you as much as I can. No matter what you have done, I will not subject you to that."
She wanted to say something. She wanted to tell him if he wanted to protect her, he could forget this farce. He could let her go, release her from the blackmail, the burden of his ultimatum. But all she could manage was a curt nod and Klavier, who had been watching for a response, looked out of the window.
"This marriage will not be a lie," he said in that same quiet voice. "Not from my side."
Ema said nothing.
.'.
"Welcome to Adseza Jewellers."
The man that greeted them was an elderly gentleman: his hair was white and sparse, his attire formal and expensive. He reminded Ema of a British butler, the kind who acted more like father figures and less like caretakers. He held the door open for them as he spoke and Klavier nodded at him in acknowledgement.
"Danke. I appreciate this."
"May I congratulate you both on your engagement," he said, smiling warmly before turning to Klavier and winking. "It's about time you stopped running around like an irresponsible child, Klavier."
Ema couldn't stop the laugh that escaped her: she liked this man already.
"This is Ema Skye," Klavier introduced with a chuckle. "Ema, this is Adalbert Schmidt. He was a great friend of my mother's and is my godfather," he explained.
"Pleased to meet you, Ema," Schmidt said, holding a hand out to her.
"Likewise," she said with a smile of her own. Really, it was the first genuine smile she'd given anyone all day but there was something about the man that made her feel comfortable. Why hadn't some of his un-glimmerous nature rubbed off on Klavier?
"I'm so glad you chose us for this occasion," Schmidt said, still addressing Ema as his expression turned grave. "I've waited for this day a long time. I was beginning to fear my godson was gay."
Startled by the frankness of his comment, Ema looked at Klavier who was already laughing. "Kannst du nicht still sein?"
The elderly features of the Schmidt's face crinkled with amusement. "Not really. In any case, I'm glad you proved me wrong."
Ema looked back and forth between the two, having lost track of the conversation and Klavier, who saw her confusion, shook his head. "My uncle has never quite learnt to leave his childhood behind."
"Where's the fun in that?" Schmidt said cheerfuly. "But let's get moving, I'm sure you have a busy day ahead of you. Will you just be looking at engagement rings today?"
Klavier answered without even looking at her. "I think we will be looking at wedding bands too."
Schmidt glanced at Ema, as if he'd noticed the anger she was working so hard to conceal, but if he did, he didn't show it. "Follow me."
Ema elbowed Klavier in the ribs and he let go of her instantly though she was sure it was more out of surprise than actual pain. She didn't care — the only thing she was concerned with was him keeping his arms to himself.
Klavier spoke without taking his eyes off his uncle. "It is bad form to abuse one's fiancée, Ema."
"It's bad form to touch a woman when she doesn't want you to," she hissed.
Schmidt looked at them over his shoulder. "Is everything all right?"
"Ema is furious with me," Klavier answered instantly and Ema looked at him in surprise. Surely he wasn't going to reveal the truth to Schmidt, even if he was his uncle? "I forced her to attend to some shopping with me and she is rather frustrated with me for what she considers over-expenditure."
Hmph.
Schmidt smiled at Ema. "Let him spend what he will," he said with a conspiratorial wink. "It's hardly as though he's lacking in money."
A burst of laughter escaped her at the unexpected remark.
"Achtung! Uncle!" Klavier laughed. "You need not convince Ema. I plan on spending plenty today."
Ema threw him a look of alarm but Schmidt was laughing too. "I'm glad to hear it! Got a business to run, you know."
"Get busy then, ja?" Klavier commanded with a wink.
And she was struck again by the strange banter going between the two — it was clear they had a strong relationship and it threw her perception of the prosecutor off-balance. Ema had had no idea Klavier possessed anything resembling a family outside of Kristoph… but then again, it was hardly as if she'd ever thought about his family situation.
"Do you have any preferences?" Schmidt asked, looking between them both.
"Your finest," Klavier instructed firmly and the way he said it alerted Ema to the meaning but before she could intervene, Schmidt had disappeared.
"Why are you spending so much money?" she asked, whirling on Klavier.
He cocked an eyebrow at her as if the answer was so obvious he didn't know why he even had to verbalise it. "Because you are my wife."
"I'm not your wife yet," she snapped. "And I don't need all this stuff."
He didn't appear to be listening: Klavier's hand reached out to her head, taking her by surprise. Something clicked and the hair she'd swept so carefully out of the way fell around her face, the brown tresses falling into her eyes.
"What was that for?" she hissed. "Give me that—"
She was cut off when Klavier stuffed the clip into his pocket and ran his fingers through her hair, his movements slow and deliberate. She couldn't help it — she shivered at the contact.
"You look better this way," he said softly.
"I don't like having—"
Again, his attention seemed not to be on her; he pulled her towards him suddenly, disrupting her balance. His fingers moved to her jacket and she looked down at his hands in shocked and fascinated as he slipped the buttons through the slits until it was open and his hands slid around her waist.
Ema's heart caught in her throat. The material of her blouse was thin and she could feel his fingers almost as if they were on her bare skin — they burned through the material, gentle but firm in their grasp. She wanted to tell him to let go of her but she could barely breathe. His eyes were hot and needy and they were devouring her.
"I'm going to kiss you." he said huskily. "And I will not stop."
It didn't matter how much she wanted to tell him to stop — her mouth wasn't complying. It didn't matter how much she wanted to push him away — his arms had snaked all the way around her back and brought her forward.
"What are you doing?" she whispered, leaning back but still unable to tear her eyes away from his hooded ones.
Where had this sudden ardour come from?
Klavier pressed his body against hers and leaned down until his mouth was inches from hers. "We have been spotted," he whispered in return.
The words barely registered. "What?"
"There are people outside," Klavier said, still leaning further in. "And they have recognised me."
The feel of his breath on her lips combined with the realisation they were being watched sent lightning bolts through her. She jerked with shock, half turning to look through the glass walls of the boutique but he only took the moment to press his hands into her back.
"Do not look," he murmured. "Put your arms around me."
And she did. Maybe it was her detective's instincts, honed to respond as fast as possible to any given situation, or maybe it was because she was leaning so far back that she had to hold onto him to stop herself from falling over. Either way, she slid her hands up his arms and dug her fingers into his shoulders.
Klavier didn't wait. His mouth pressed softly into hers and he held it there for several seconds. Ema's entire being stiffened at the contact and she remained frozen, wondering why he wasn't moving... Was he just going to stay there?
"I know you hate me right now," he breathed into her mouth suddenly, his voice barely more than the hint of a whisper. "And I understand why." He shifted against her, heightening the proximity. "But in return, you must understand the situation you have put me in."
She couldn't answer because she would only add to the friction already present: his every word was sending shivers down her spine, the sensation pooling where his fingers were tracing the curve of her back.
"You betrayed my trust in you, Ema," he continued, never breaking the contact. "I thought you would understand me better than anyone else. Do you truly believe me not justified in my reaction? Did you not react equally harshly when you thought me guilty of the same crime?"
She didn't need to answer this time. They both knew the answer.
"I have lost my brother and one of my best friends. Would you have me lose all the dignity I have left by forcing me to face the media out there?"
Would she?
"Is it so bad in my arms, Ema?" he murmured and, as if to give her something to consider, he pressed his lips deeper into hers in a deliberate kiss.
Her body lurched at the contact: she gripped his shoulders tighter, inadvertently bringing him even closer.
"I am only asking you to save what is left of me," he confessed, his voice soft. "Do you not owe me this?"
Ema forced herself to see through his eyes and bit her lip at the awareness that came to her: how could she deprive him of the very thing she was giving up everything to try and save? She had done everything possible to save all she had left at the mere age of 15 — her sister. Klavier hadn't even been able to do that. After all the things that had gone wrong, spun out of his control, the one thing he had left was his success as an honest prosecutor… which he was. Who could blame him for trying to hold onto that image?
"Will you take this away from me too?"
Her mind was made up even before he'd asked and her answer came without hesitance. "No," she said quietly, pulling back and staring up into his sad eyes.
"Then understand me," he said, his voice husky. "Be my wife."
She wasn't going to point out that they were standing inside a boutique, that he'd just asked the manager to bring out the most expensive rings available, because she knew the meaning behind his words extended beyond the physical appearance of marriage.
"I will," she said quietly, feeling calmer than she had in the past 24 hours. "But this doesn't change anything. I still don't love you."
"I know," he hummed.
"And you don't love me."
"No," he agreed.
Ema took a deep breath and let her mind roll the situation around in her head. Her anger at Klavier seemed to have left her and she was left with just a heavy sense of guilt. The vulnerability of his admission had hit the sensitive spot inside where the events of her past still lingered, raw and painful to the touch.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, meeting his stare head on. "I should never have done what I did. You're right. Of all people, I should have known better."
He said nothing.
"I know an apology doesn't mean much right now," she continued, smoothing down the lapels of his coat absent-mindedly. "So I'll do this. I'll marry you. I'll be the distraction. I'll help you salvage this situation. And…" She took a deep breath, understanding the repercussions of the promise she was about to make but fixed in her decision, "I'll be… be the… the wife you need."
Something flickered in his eyes and when his lips parted, she could tell her apology was accepted because the emotion was so pure, even his breath spoke of it. "Ema, I—"
"Here we are!" Schmidt's voice interrupted and they turned to look at him, startled by his sudden appearance.
There was a slight growl evident in Klavier's voice when he muttered, "He still has the worse timing."
Ema smirked.
Schmidt, however, was oblivious to the fact that he'd interrupted a moment and seemed utterly unsurprised by their embrace; he smiled widely and beckoned them closer, his hands opening and settling several boxes on the glass case.
Ema let go of Klavier instantly, glancing out of window as she did so, and found several people observing them, shocked, excited and — in the case of one girl — resentful. Before the apprehension could take hold, however, Klavier drew her forward and when she saw the expensive-looking rings lined up, she forgot all about the audience outside.
"W-What—"
"These are all platinum?" Klavier enquired, reverting to his habit of ignoring her.
"Yes," Schmidt answered and pointed at two on the far left. "Except these two. They're white gold; one is set with a 0.8 carat pink diamond. The other one is an 18-carat white gold set with a blue diamond of—"
"Hold it!" Ema interjected desperately. Both men turned to look at her, the elder surprised and the blond simply inquisitive though there was a measure of exasperation in his gaze: clearly he'd guessed what was bothering her. "I don't want something s-so fancy! I—"
Klavier laughed, squeezing her waist. "Be quiet, Ema," he advised her and didn't even wait for a response before he turned to Schmidt again. "May I see that one?"
"Are you—" Ema choked on words, unable to continue when she saw the ring Schmidt held out for her: it was a delicate band of silver mounted with a blue jewel the size of the eyeballs popping out of her sockets.
"Platinum band set with one of rarest blue diamonds that can be…" Schmidt trailed off and Ema saw him staring at Klavier inquisitively. She followed his gaze, just in time to see the prosecutor throw his uncle a warning look. "It's one of the most exquisite rings you'll find in the world," he amended.
"Hold your hand out, Ema," Klavier instructed her.
She didn't move. "How much is it worth?" she asked the manager, who looked at Klavier with a mix of surprise and amusement.
"Uncle," Klavier said in a long-suffering voice. "Could you excuse us for a moment?"
"Certainly."
The man bowed and swept out of the vicinity leaving them both alone once more. Ema made to look at Klavier with a sceptical remark about money ready on her lips but he'd moved: his arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind and she let out a sound of surprise when she felt him press against her back.
She scowled. "Would you stop that?"
"I am going to enjoy being married to you," he chuckled in a low voice.
Even though she was surprised by the amusement that comment induced in her, Ema managed to make her voice sound exasperated. "That better be referring to my stubborn and confrontational behaviour because I stand by what I said." She turned her head slightly to look at him, her eyes finding his face so near to her own. "We're not sharing a bed."
His response was to tighten his grip on her and drop a kiss on her lips which was so unexpected but natural that Ema felt the nerves in her body crackle.
"I promise never to touch you if you do not want me to," Klavier said in a low voice.
"You're touching me now," she pointed out and despite the shakiness that overcame her, she couldn't look away from him.
His eyes twinkled. "I am."
She flushed at the implication, tuning her face to hide the emotions she knew it was betraying. The way he was looking at her told Ema he hadn't missed what her traitorous body had revealed. When she tried to pull away, he made a sound that showed his refusal to part with her and his hand travelled down her left arm, stopping to take her wrist in his hand. Ema closed her eyes as if she could block out the chemistry that was hanging on the air.
How was it that she had left her home this morning hating this man and now couldn't find it in her to push him away?
Something cool slid onto her finger and she glanced down at her hand, taken aback. Klavier lifted her wrist up before them and Ema felt the breath catch in her throat: the ring was breath-taking. The diamond was beautifully cut even at first glance, and it glittered dauntingly in the light, its shine enhanced by the smaller diamonds that shouldered it.
His tanned fingers brushed the stone. "Blue," he whispered, his breath hitting her ear so sensually that she shivered against him, "to match my eyes."
Her gut reaction was to tell him that the diamond didn't even begin to do justice to the colour of his eyes but caught herself in time. Choosing to ignore the fact that such a thought had even crossed her mind, Ema shook her head. "It's too much," she said, holding her hand as far away from herself as she could. "It's—"
"It is perfect," he cut her off, turning her towards him slightly. "You are my wife and it is because you think it is worth too much that it is perfect."
"I don't even like it," Ema lied, starting to slide it off her finger. "It's too—"
His hand enveloped hers, stopping her. "You are forgetting that I can tell when someone lies," he reminded her softly.
Ema looked down at their hands even though she couldn't see the ring. It was too much. There was no doubt in her mind that a ring of this quality carried a heavy, heavy price tag. It was too much. What would she owe him if she started allowing this sort of behaviour? She already knew she would be fighting her body's response to his nearness. She couldn't handle the burden of his gifts too…
It was as if he guessed the direction of her thoughts, because Klavier spun her around to look at him and took her by the shoulders, an intense look on his face. "Ema," he said leaning down to catch her eye. "This is not payment for anything. I do not expect any—" he looked frustrated again, like he always did when he couldn't find the right word. "I take back what I said. I promise I will not touch you unless you ask me to," he said quietly. "I can see the fear in your eyes. I know what you think of me but I am not that kind of man. I will never buy you anything with the expectation of something in return."
He was trying to cloak the hurt that was beneath those words but Ema heard it and shame coloured her cheeks. "Klavier, I—"
"You like it," he interrupted, "and I do too. I was not asking your permission. I just want you to know that I do not have any negative intentions."
"I never thought you did!"
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Ema bit her lip — because they both knew that was a lie.
But then Klavier took her by surprise.
"Then accede to this," he said, a sad sort of smile on his face. "If you do not suspect me… say yes."
He had just chosen to let her blatant lie pass, a lie that she was certain had hurt him… and was using it to coerce her into agreement, despite his claim that he didn't need her permission. She realised as she stared up into his eyes, riveted by what she saw there, that he was desperate for something. It wasn't trust... it was a validation of his goodness — and her belief in it.
This isn't the Klavier I've always seen.
And less than 24 hours after having been blackmailed into marriage, something inside Ema changed.
