Loved Intensely (UNEDITED)

Chapter 5

It was to be another two days before Emma
ventured forth from her room again. Ever since
that episode on the balcony that night, Emma had
gone reclusive, not leaving her room even for
meals, which Jordan brought to her. As her room at
Brandeworth Manor was connected to a bathroom
ensuit, there was no need for her to leave even for
that, and Jordan did not at all mind doing the
small favour for his sister. On Emma's part, she
did not really seem to notice whether or not food
was brought to her at all, and seemed quite
content to simply hide away.
It had gotten to a point, however, where Jordan
was no longer content to simply bring her meals
and sit and talk to her. Emma hardly seemed
inclined to talk at all anymore, and he sensed that,
far from being simply depressed as he had initially
thought her to be, the problem ran far deeper.
In truth, Jordan was quite at a loss as to what to
do, and when, after two days, Emma had shown no
inclination whatsoever of recovering her spirits, he
brought in the cavalry.
And thus it was that that Sunday, at eight-thirty
in the morning, Jordan and Luc banged on Emma's
bedroom door, demanding to be let in.
"Go away!" Emma said blearily from her bed, her
voice muffled by the pillow she had pulled over her
head. "Sleeping."
"Emma!" Luc and Jordan's voices hollered in unison.
"Go 'way!" Emma answered.
"Emma, if you don't open this door, I'm calling
James," Luc threatened. "He has a key, you know."
Emma made an incoherent sound of disgust and sat
up, treading to the door and flinging it open.
"What?" she demanded crossly.
"Good morning!" Jordan said brightly and skipped
into the room, plunking himself down on the bed,
making himself at home. He eyed with distaste the
various items of clothing strewn about, seemingly
debating with himself whether he dared to risk
Emma's wrath by cleaning her room. No, he
decided finally. Better not risk it.
Emma, meanwhile, was regarding them both with
something akin to murder in her eyes. "This better
be good," she said darkly. "Or I'll make you both
pay."
"I hear you've been a bit of a hermit these days,
Em," Luc said with studied nonchalance, leaning
against the wall. "Have another spat with James,
did you?"
"Here now," Jordan said, eyeing her curiously.
"What's this about?"
"I did not have a spat with James," Emma said
frigidly.
"Ah," said Luc wisely. "A lover's quarrel, then?"
"No!" Emma exclaimed, exasperated.
"Emma!" Jordan exclaimed at the same time. "You
and James? Why the devil didn't you tell me?"
"Because there's nothing to tell!" Emma said
angrily. "We're not lovers! He's nothing to me!"
"Aha!" Luc exclaimed. "There, you see?"
"Oh for the sake of the lord, Luc, if you're going
to be an ass, go away."
"Alright, alright," Luc conceded. "I'll stop. You're
sure that there's nothing going on there, though?
James seemed quite... proprietary...with you the
other night."
"Nothing," Emma said coldly. "Nothing at all."
"All right," Luc said, though clearly still
disbelieving.
Emma sighed. She could see it was going to take
some convincing to persuade Luc that she and
James were not...lovers. He couldn't be her lover if
he'd forced her, could he? No...They were nothing
to each other...nothing... Somehow, the thought
didn't bring as much comfort as it should have.
"Luc," Emma said suddenly. "Do you remember
that little plan we had - the one we decided on a
few days ago?"
Luc regarded her with perplexity. "You don't mean
to go through with that, do you Em? Especially in
light of...you know."
"I do," Emma said firmly. "I think it's a perfect
idea. In fact, we should put it straight into action
right now. Can we leave today?"
"Well," said Luc doubtfully, "I don't know..."
"Please Luc," Emma begged. "I really need to get
out of this place."
"Well, I can't say I mind being used as an excuse,"
Luc said with a grin. "But are you sure this is the
best way to go about it? If you and James have
had a falling out, then isn't it better to stay and
resolve things?"
Emma gritted her teeth. "We have not had a
falling out," she ground out. "We never had a
'falling in'. I just want to leave, that's all."
Jordan was watching the both of them in
fascination. "You're serious, then, Emma?"
"Yes," Emma said firmly. "As of now, Luc, we are
engaged. We're leaving tonight, and we'll break up
in a month, due to personal differences. You can
break it off if you like."
"Er -" said Luc.
"Excellent," said Emma, "Its settled then." And
beaming, she danced into the bathroom. The other
two, one her brother and the other her friend,
exchanged glances, shook their heads in unison,
then resignedly, walked out.
James was the only one in the morning parlour
when she skipped down half an hour later, fresh
and cheerful from her shower. She took one look at
his grim, unsmiling visage, which was currently
frowning at an unfortunate plate of bacon and
eggs, and skipped right back out again. By this
time however, James had, of course, noticed her,
and his withering glower made her stop in her
tracks and reluctantly walk in, forcing a semblance
of serenity onto her features. She could hardly
walk right out after he had seen her, could she?
Well, maybe she could, but something in her,
something that had been bred in her since she had
first learned to walk, repelled against the thought.
After all, manners bred, and indicated, respect. As
her mother had always said, if one did not respect
others, one could not reasonably expect that same
respect back from them. Ruefully, Emma thought
that her sense of decorum would someday be the
death of her. She would probably be fighting for
her life against some crazed killer someday, kick
him in the nuts, and then instead of running away
sensibly, she'd probably stop, apologise, and ask if
she could call an ambulance for him.
"Good morning," James said coolly, setting aside
his newspaper, and picking up his glass of apple
juice. Emma smiled to herself, recalling his
fondness for apple juice. Kit had always had a
glass every morning, too, she thought, after they'd
spent the night making love...But no. It hadn't
been Kit, had it? It had been James - James and
his routine glass of apple juice. Oh, what a fool
she'd been! She should have known, every time he'd
fled just before the household awoke, that
something was wrong... Impatiently, she brushed
the thought aside, plastering a smile onto her
face.
"Morning," Emma said lightly, avoiding his eyes and
taking the seat furthest possible from him. "Where
is everyone else?"
"Gone shopping," James said succinctly. "In
Westbridge. Its just us until about six tonight, I
think."
"Oh," said Emma, rather inadequately. "Is that the
little Village just off North Road?"
"Yes."
"Oh," said Emma again. She helped herself to a
glass of apple juice, feeling oddly stupid. "Well, I
should say goodbye, because I'll be leaving this
evening, and I probably won't see you again." Ever,
she said silently.
James merely raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh?" he
said lazily. "Running away, are we?"
"No," Emma said defensively. "Just leaving. I have
some business at home that can't wait."
"Surely it can wait a day more? It's waited almost
a week already, has it not?"
"N - no. I'm afraid it's rather urgent."
To her surprise, James got up out of his seat, and
came over towards her, a grim look on his face. Too
startled to move, she remained frozen in her seat,
merely staring at him rather like a deer in
headlights. She watched, bemused, as he dropped
to his knees in front of her, planting one arm on
the back of her chair and the other on the table,
hemming her in, crowding her space yet again. He
had a rather annoying habit of doing that, Emma
thought irritably. Someday someone was going to
punch his lights out. She just hoped she'd be there
to see it!
"You've been avoiding me," he said abruptly.
"Why?"
"I - I haven't," she denied shakily.
"You have. I'm not stupid, you know. I haven't seen
you for two days. Why have you been avoiding me?"
She glared at him, angry at his nerve for even
asking the question. "Do you really have to ask?"
He was silent for a moment, his eyes downcast.
Then, "Don't leave, Emma," he said gravely,
startling her. "Please don't leave."
She had to smile. "Are you literally begging me on
your knees?"
He smiled too. "If that's what it takes."
"In all the time I've known you, James, you've
never sounded so sincere..." she paused, regarded
him seriously, then smiled her sweetest smile. "How
about...No."
His eyes narrowed in irritation. "Why not?"
"Because I don't want to."
"It's not that simple, Emma."
Her eyes flashed. "Why not, James? It's simple
enough for you, when its something you want. You
just take it. But when I want something? Oh, no,
I've got to think of you, first. Are you really so
selfish, James?"
She saw his knuckles go white as he clutched
furiously at her chair and felt a stab of fear. Then
suddenly, he relaxed. She saw him frown, as if
wavering over something, and then his expression
cleared, as if he had come to a decision. His lips
curved on a smug, mocking smile, and he regarded
her knowingly, his expression one of condescending
indulgence. "Alright...if that's what it's going to
take...If its marriage you want, I'll marry you."
The words were sudden, abrupt, unexpected.
Emma's jaw dropped, her eyes widening to saucer-
like proportions. She said the first thing that came
to her mind. "What?"
"That's what you want is it? So be it. I'll marry
you."
"Dear god, are you MAD?" She almost shrieked. "I
can't marry you!"
He cocked a brow at her, perplexed. "But why
not?" His expression grew earnest. "I've told you,
Emma. I love you."
She brushed that aside. "Because - because I'm
going to marry Luc, that's why," she said in a
rush. "Yes - I'm marrying Luc, and I'm going away
with him tonight, and that's all there is to it,
James. I can't marry you. I don't even like you!"
His eyes narrowed. "You're lying."
Emma bristled. "What makes you say that?"
"There's nothing the least loverlike towards the
way Luc acts towards you. I've seen him,
remember? I'm not blind. And the other
night...out on the balcony...he said himself that
you were only using him as an excuse. I'm not
stupid, Emma. There's nothing between you and
Luc but friendship. In fact," he continued, his eyes
narrowing further as he looked at her, "I would say
that there's never been anything between you and
anyone but friendship."
Emma's gaped at him, amazed at his sheer nerve.
"Why, James?" she said finally, recovering her
composure. Her tone was mocking. "Do you imagine
that just because you - that is to say, Kit, because
you do realise that that was who I thought it was -
were the one who took my virginity, it means that
there has been no one else? I am only human,
James. I have needs. You are most certainly not
the only man I've ever slept with...in fact, far
from it. What makes you say it's so unlikely that
Luc and I are engaged?"
"Its impossible," he said derisively. "I refuse to
believe that you got engaged to him after that
night - it's been what, two days? He asked you to
marry him even after knowing you were using him
as an excuse?"
"No," Emma said blithely, and satisfaction flashed
in his eyes. "I asked him to marry me." Well, it was
sort of the truth, Emma thought wryly.
"What?" His incredulity was obvious.
"Is it really so hard to believe, James? Do you
remember those two days you said that I'd been
avoiding you? Well would you like to know where I
spent them? In my room. In bed. Do you want to
know with whom?"
"No," James gritted, his face pale. "You're lying."
"Why should I?" Her voice was airy. "I've hardly
anything to gain, now, have I? The fact of the
matter is, I don't need to make up some elaborate
story just to reject your marriage proposal. Most
people don't - it's simply a case of, no. But this is
the truth, James. I just thought you deserved as
much." She had to say it, Emma justified to
herself. She had to leave him with no illusions,
whatsoever. But even as her justifications seemed
logical and rational, a stab of completely irrational
pain sliced through her heart at the wounded,
betrayed expression on his face. He looked as if he
were in physical pain, and she ached to take him
into her arms, kiss him, and tell him it was all a lie.
For a moment, she forgot the reason as to why she
couldn't.
But ah, there it was. This vulnerability of his, it
was all but a lie. He seemed weak and hurt and
wounded now, but the moment that she gave in,
the moment that power returned to his hands, he
would only use it to wound, to control her. And she
could not allow that.
So she lied, and continued to lie. The words came
easily now, flowing smoothly past her lips, so
plausible that even she began to half believe them.
"You're not a fool, James. Surely even you must
see that those...times...we were together...they
meant nothing to me? A drop in the ocean, so to
speak. And I can't even say that I really enjoyed
them - I don't enjoy being forced." A half
truth...she had enjoyed it, involuntarily, but she
wasn't going to let him know that.
There was a long, grim silence, then, "You could be
pregnant," James said suddenly, a triumphant look
in his eye.
"I could," Emma agreed. "But then again, I might
not be. And even if I was, there's no guarantee the
baby is yours, James." She watched his face, saw
his eyes darken with pain, and rage, and felt the
fist around her heart clench tighter. It was for
the best, she told herself fiercely. She had to be
strong. "Besides which, we do live in age where we
can now get rid of such...inconveniences..." Not
that she ever would, of course. But he didn't have
to know that.
"You wouldn't." He ground out the words.
She shrugged. "Maybe I would, maybe I wouldn't.
In any case, it's a moot point, James. I'll deal with
it if and when it happens."
"If you hurt our baby..." Emma opened her mouth
to deny the existence of any such, but he cut her
off. "Very well," he bit off, rising to his feet. "If
that is the way you wish it to be." He inclined his
head briefly to her, then, stiffly, walked out.
And Emma closed her eyes against the irrational
tears that seemed to seep out, no matter what she
did.
***
Home, at last, finally. It had been more than two
weeks since her departure from the Brandeworth
Estate, and it seemed that those few days spent
were destined to come back and bite her on the
posterior, no matter how long it had been since
she'd left. First there had been the small matter
of her brother - she'd abandoned him there and
taken their car, and so had had to come back and
pick him up. Then it turned out Luc - her supposed
fiance - had actually gone off to France to be
married, when he had been supposed to be spending
time with her and proving to the world just how
unaffected she was by James. Hell, she should have
had a month, at least, of respite from the world,
supposedly as Luc's impromptu fiance. Who knew,
maybe James would be knocking on her door at any
minute. And now, with this last little development
she'd only recently discovered...well, she'd deal
with it. She always did.
She dropped her keys on the table in the hallway
and trudged to the small, cramped kitchen,
dumping her groceries on the old watermarked
bench. Feeling too fatigued to do much more than
that, she went to her bedroom, ignored the hole in
the floor, kicked off her shoes and flopped onto
the bed, closing her eyes for a quick catnap.
Almost immediately, however, her eyes sprang open
again. Creak, creak, creak. No, so she wasn't
imagining it. Kylie the Sex Kitten from upstairs
was hard at work already. It wasn't hard to
imagine doing what, either.
Emma groaned. It was bad enough at night, but
even now? Didn't the girl ever rest? Eat? Sleep?
She glanced at the clock. Seven thirty. She ought
to probably eat - after all, she couldn't afford not
to.
It was nine by the time she'd finished the dishes
and tidied everything up. She went to take out the
trash - then stopped halfway through the doors as
the elevator doors opened, and a familiar, tall,
large, man stepped out. His eyes met hers from
across the short distance between her apartment
and the elevator, and Emma froze. Good lord -
what was he doing here? The hysterical thought
ran through her mind that he must have known,
must have found out somehow, then disappeared
just as quickly as she realised the need to flee, to
get out of that timelock he seemed to have frozen
her into somehow.
As if in slow motion, Emma's limbs came back into
action, but too late, too late - even as she was
stepping back, closing the door he had sprung
forward, wedging an immaculately Gucci clad foot
into her doorway. "Hello, Emma," came the
familiar, throaty voice. "Happy to see me?"
Her reply to this was to push harder at the door,
hoping in vain that maybe he'd relent and step out
of her apartment, out of her life. No such luck.
With humiliating ease, he gave a little push and she
found herself falling backwards, looking up to see
him walk into her apartment with casual
familiarity. The door shut behind him with a final
sounding click.
"Get out of my house." Her voice came out, not
firm and confident as she'd hoped, but weak and
trembling. God, how she hated the way he made
her feel.
"What, no hug, no kiss? What reception is this, for
an old friend?" He tisked. "I did expect better of
your manners, Emma." He looked around at the
shabby furnishings, the peeling wallpaper, the old,
dirty carpet. "Is this how you're living these days?
Shame on Luc...a poor way to treat his wife, I'd
say...you are his wife, I assume, now?"
"N-no," Emma stammered. "But I will be. Soon.
Just as soon as Luc gets back from France."
"Funny," James looked at her slyly. "I never would
have thought of Luc as the polygamous type."
Emma felt cold. So he'd heard already, had he?
Damn. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Poor Emma," James mocked with insincere pity.
"Don't tell me you haven't heard the happy news.
Luc's on his honeymoon right now."
Emma steeled herself. "I wish him happy, then,"
she said calmly.
James eyed her with interest. "Not jealous, then?"
"No," she said firmly. "I'm glad for him." She was
confused, unsure how to react. Should she act sad?
No, better not to show any weakness to him. He
was a predator - weakness was never wise. How
ridiculous her charade had turned out to be! She
settled for a small, grim smile. "I never did expect
him to be serious - I never was."
"Good," said James, and grabbed her. His mouth
came down on hers with hard, crushing brutality
and she gasped, only realising her mistake when his
tongue slid inside her mouth to plunder and
ravage. His hands skimmed over her body, coming
to a rest over the curve of her bottom. He
kneaded for a moment, stroking and caressing her,
then cupped and lifted, and suddenly Emma found
herself with her legs wrapped around him, three
feet off the ground. "I'm not going to make love
to you standing against the wall again," James
muttered against her red, swollen mouth, "Where's
your bedroom?"
"Wh-What?" Emma stuttered, dazed.
He cursed, and began walking, stopping every few
moments to pause and open a door, then slam it
shut again. It seemed he had opened every door in
her tiny apartment before coming to her bedroom.
"What are you doing?" she asked, as he stepped
inside, kicked the door shut behind him, then
dumped her on the bed. Stupid girl - as if it
wasn't obvious!
He merely grunted in reply, stripping off his shirt
and trousers. She stared in fascination at the
scanty briefs that couldn't seem to contain the
throbbing erection between his legs. Then just as
quickly, they were gone, and for the first time, it
seemed, she got a good look at him. Oh my.