Red Collar (22 page)

“Don’t look so worried,” she had said. “It’s not like he runs to another woman.”

Kate had blushed. Her
feelings for him were becoming more apparent to the women and she feared it could become a complication once her contract as his fiancée was over by the end of the week. More than that, she wondered if she was as obvious to Clayton himself. She didn’t want him to think she would be a liability to him.

She had finally decided she would enjoy the rest of the days on the island
as his lover, and then leave. Although her dream to be his real fiancée would never come true, she at least had come close to living it.

“I wasn’t worried,” she
had muttered, shyly.

Leah dragged a chair beside her with a cup of steaming black coffee.

“It’s called Scrawny’s Hill. It was named after a cat, Scrawny,” she explained, sipping down her hot drink.

Kate stifled a chuckle, afraid she might disrespect her in some way. However, her amused face gave her away.

“It’s alright,” Leah giggled. “You can laugh it out. Everyone has once they know how important the cat was to the family to have a hill named after her.” She leant back into her chair. “She was supposedly my great, great grandfather’s cat. She was a wild, scrawny little thing, and not much to look at, hence the name. But my grandfather loved her just the same. It was said she lived up to twenty years. But in those twenty years, she was known to run away frequently. And each time when my grandfather went out looking for her, he would find her on that hill. I think she simply enjoyed getting back to her feral roots, hunting like a wild cat.”

She suddenly grew quiet, delving into some deep thought. “When we were young, Clayton often got himself into trouble. If we were
living in some urban neighborhood, he probably would have resorted to his friends or escaped into the arcades. But on an island, there were relatively very few places he could hideaway in. He soon discovered that Scrawny’s Hill was an ideal nook to escape to. It was way up high on the island and you needed to muster quite a bit of strength to reach it.” She sighed, signaling an end to her tale. “And that’s how he started to run.”

There was more to the tale, Kate
thought, noticing the way in which Leah had abruptly concluded the story.

She shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
Clayton’s troubles in his family hovered about her like an elephant in the room. What troubles was she referring to? Were those the same troubles that affected his relationship with his father? Was it why he kept running away each day to Scrawny’s Hill, returning late into the morning, when he knew his father would be engaged in the matters of his business, far too busy then to converse with him at all?

“I know that’s a shooting star you have in your hand,” Clayton said, enthralled by her fluttering dark tresses in the ocean breeze. He tore his eyes away. He was well aware how she drew out his imperfections, his lack of self-control whenever she was around him. He didn’t want to appear like a sex crazed lover, taking her wherever and whenever his sexual urges called upon him. “The others I’m not too certain about.”

“Leah told me about this place,” she said, twirling the little white flower. “Scrawny’s Hill. I just never imagined it would be so beautiful
up here.”

He looked a little hurt. “
I guess my surprise wasn’t a surprise after all.”

“Of course it was,” Kate said, hastily. “Leah never mentioned how beautiful it was. All she said was…” She paused, biting her lower lip.
“She said it was where you jogged to every morning. She only mentioned it when she caught me wondering about it.”

He strolled closer to the cliff edge. In the distance, the ocean sounded against the rocks bordering the island.

“I loved this place. It has a life of its own. Flowers just grow and bloom on their own accord. No one dictates them. I’d see the occasional loon, grebe or albatross perch on those trees. If I was lucky, I’d be able to catch a herd of whales migrate through the gulf.” He gave a throaty chuckle as he reminisced his childhood days. “I used to always keep a pair of binoculars and telescope under those overhanging rocks.” He pointed towards a cluster of naturally sculptured boulders. “I used to pretend this was my very own lighthouse, keeping watch on everyone that left the island or came close to it.” He grew momentarily quiet. “I had a distinct view of the pier. I’d watch my father leave the island each day, precisely at nine in the morning. I suppose nothing much has changed in all those years.” He looked down at his watch.

Kate caught sight of the family yacht skim over the waters as it headed towards the city.

She put an assuring hand over his shoulder. “If it helps, I grew up in the middle of a bustling city, and it was just as lonely. I wish I could have had at least some birds or whales to watch to while away my time. It’s no fun observing gangs cause trouble on the front street or police sirens screech through your dreams.”

He arched an eyebrow. “I’m sorry. I
must sound like a total self-centered brat. Of course, I loved living on the island. It’s just that there were some things I think I missed out on.”

Kate smiled. There were a lot of things she missed out on
too, like a mother, money and almost close to an education had her father not worked through three jobs to put her into college.

“You never really told me about your life,” he asked, carefully, trying to sound as casual as possible.

Kate shrugged. “There isn’t much to tell.” She moved closer to him and put her arms around his neck. “Have you ever brought a girl to Scrawny’s Hill?” she asked, curiously.

“No.”

“Then you never really did it here then?” she teased.

He smiled. “No.”

She ran her fingers seductively down his torso. “You think anyone really did it here?”

“I don’t know,” he said thickly.
“Kate…”

“Hmmm…,” she muttered as her fingers tugged at his tee-shirt, in a fevered consumption to touch his skin.

He tugged a fistful of hair, throwing her head back roughly. “Don’t tease me, Kate,” he begged huskily.

She smiled and pushed him back onto the ground of thick, matted grass.
She pulled off his shirt, kissing him at the base of his throat.

Her fingers fiddled clumsily on his zipper. Even through his thick, chinos, she could feel his hardness.

Finally, in his eagerness to take her, Clayton impatiently helped her with his pants, pulling it open only slightly to allow her access.

She wrapped her small palm around his warm
, velvety length, as she traced his body with her lips.

Clayton gasped. He had never seen her so bold wi
th him and he was beginning to enjoy it.

The rising sun of the Sitka sky glared above them. Clayton closed his eyes, his senses attuned only to the heat coursing through his body. He reached out in fervent helplessness to cup Kate’s full breasts. Her nipples were peaked and hard as he desperately wished to take them into his mouth. He wanted to feel the flesh of her areola against his tongue. He moaned in a feeble protest.

Instead she ignored him, placing her mouth on where once her palm had heated his hot
turgid length. He groaned, winding his fingers into her hair.

“
Kate, please,” he pleaded. “I’m burning…”

She lifted herself up
and slipped out of her knickers. She, then gently lowered herself onto him, taking all of him inside her. She threw her head back in frenzy, unable to control the raging tide of ecstasy surging through her.

And there they both rocked
in unison, their bodies entwined in a field of wild blooms, as they raced together towards an explosive climax.

Kate heard the deafening sound of helicopter blades outside. The house bustled with noise and merriment. She touched up her lips and her eyes with mascara. After a final satisfactory check of herself, she stepped outside of her room, a little nervy.

Guests were slowly pouring onto the island for the party.
Kate never felt more anxious. She had never experienced being part of a family gathering, let alone a family that was accustomed to high societal living.

Her only family in her life had been
her father and they never could have had much of a gathering with just two. She was still yet to adapt to her new family of siblings. Libby had already made it known she wanted none of her in it. How was she then to cope and live up to expectations as Clayton’s fiancée among such a larger crowd of relatives?

She caught sight of her dull reflection in the lounge mirror. She looked pathetic, almost seeking attention for sympathy. Determined to play a better role, she stood tall, pushing her shoulders back. She managed five days on the island playing the perfect fiancée
to his close family. What were another hundred or so Reid relatives and friends?

It was already almost seven o’clock
in the evening. She knew that there had been arrangements made for some to stay the night on the island. Others had prepared accommodations off it. She marveled at the yachts bobbing at the dock. These people certainly travelled in style. They had brought their board with them. Was there anything they couldn’t afford?

“
We could trade our room for a yacht,” she heard Clayton say from behind her. She felt him so close that his touch prickled her skin.

“I was merely admiring them,” she said, trying to turn around to address him.
Instead she collided with his firm chest muscles. Instinctively, she clung onto his shirt to steady herself.

His hands wound around her slim waist bracing her. Taking advantage of the opportunity, he pulled her close to him.

“We still have some time before we head back to New York. I was wondering about spending it out at sea. We would need it after the lot that’s coming in,” he grinned.

She smiled. “I’d love it.”

He thread his fingers through her hair. “Kate, perhaps we could spend more than just a day on the yacht and return later to New York?”

She stiffened.
“Clayton, I don’t think I can.”

His face muscles tightened. “Why not? Is there someone waiting for you back home?”

“It’s complicated, Clayton.”

“Is it?” he muttered.

“I’m sorry. I wish I could but…” she started.

“Don’t worry about it,” he cut sharply
, releasing her.

He turned around towards the guests crowding in the veranda.
“We are needed as hosts. I don’t think I would be able to escort you through the entire evening. I understand that you may not know everyone here, but as my fiancée, there is a certain standard you need to uphold.”

She dropped her eyes, quivering from his cold tone. “Clayton, you must understand. I can’t stay any longer. Do you know how I feel about this façade? It’s getting harder on me to
simply carry on as if none of it matters. But it does. To me.”

“You’re right. We agreed on six days. I should probably pay you for any
extra days,” he remarked flatly.

A deathly chill fell over her. How could he reduce all that they shared in the past days to a monetary sum? But that’s right. It was sh
e who was in love with him. And she was still no more than a whore to him.

“Probably, you should have,” she replied as tersely.

His steely eyes bore down into her with such austereness, she thought he could have frozen the marrow in her bones if he glared at her any longer. Instead, he turned around and marched away, the only signs of his anger prevalent in the manner he carried his shoulders.

*****

She meandered through the horde of guests with a fake smile plastered on her face. A glass of champagne in her hand, she introduced herself as she moved amongst them, all the while thinking of how cruelly Clayton had disposed off her. She was the woman he was expected to marry! He should be introducing her. He should have had the respect to escort her by the arm like a true fiancée!

She gripped tightly onto the stem of her champagne flute. She hadn’t had a taste of
the bubbles yet. But she needed to release her anger on something and the flute was currently the most convenient she could find.

“Kate,” she heard Leah call out. “Where have you been?”

Kate smiled gratefully. She was on the verge of bawling out shamelessly, her tears tinkling at the ends of her eyes. She blinked them away and walked over to Leah.

“Just about
” was all she could manage.

“I want
you to meet my husband, Armand,” Leah introduced proudly.

He was a tall, slim man, with fair skin. His blonde hair
was trimmed short and he bore stark resemblance to the baby daughter he cradled in his left arm.

“Hello,” he said in a deep Fre
nch accentuated voice. “Leah’s been telling me all about you. Actually she has endlessly praised you.” He looked adoringly at his wife and then back at her. “I heard you’re going to join the family. Congratulations. I need someone on my side. I was beginning to feel lonely during these Reid family events.”