Secrets (Passion Shields) Read online

  For that reason he hadn't told her there were several cameras located in strategic points in their apartment. They were there for security reasons and had been installed a long time before they'd been married. His line of business demanded that level of security. He'd bought the penthouse apartment more for security it provided than for any display of wealth.

  For the last month, he'd had the video feeds disabled as he wanted Selina to get used to the environment before talking to her about the cameras.

  As he'd had to come into work this morning and noticed the vehement way she'd reacted to him going out on today, he'd decided it was as good a time as any to take their relationship a step further. It had been a gamble. And it had paid off. With mighty gains.

  In the last few weeks he'd managed to push her comfort barriers down one obstacle at a time. Gradually his wife was letting go of her inhibitions and starting to trust him totally. They still had a way to go yet. But this was progress. Warmth radiated from his chest.

  "Lina, don't sleep off yet," he spoke into the phone speaker on top of his mahogany desk.

  On the screen Selina stirred, shifting her arms and legs, but she didn't get up.

  "Pull out the vibrator and switch it off."

  She reached between her legs, wrapped her right hand around the flat end and slowly pulled out the glass phallus-shaped stimulator, her lower body arching. It glistened in the light, coated with her fluid. She would be sensitive from her orgasm.

  "Now, the nipple clamps, take them off."

  Her finger fiddled with the chains before the clamps came off, and she held them in her open right palm.

  "Put the items on the table. Don't worry about cleaning them up. Just put the robe back on and lie back on the sofa."

  She stood, her movements languorous, and did as he instructed. Picking up the robe from where she'd left it folded on the chair, she shook it out and slipped her arms into the fleece.

  She looked so small covered from neck to toes, her vulnerability even more apparent.

  "Take the phone."

  Complying, she returned to the sofa, phone in hand, her eyes unfocused. Having a climax was such an intense experience for her.

  "Lie down, Lina. Take a nap. I'll be here to watch over you, and I'll wake you when it's time."

  "Okay," she said, her voice filled with emotion.

  His heart squeezed tight as if in a clenched glove, his breath knocked out of him.

  With her shoulders lifting in what seemed like a satisfied sigh, Selina drew her legs up and curled on the sofa. Her long dark eyelashes drifted on to her flushed cheekbones in a sleepy droop.

  "Thank you, Ben." He had to strain to hear her whispered words before the phone line clicked off.

  Without moving, he watched as the rise and fall of her chest became regular. She was asleep. This was a gift, watching her like this. That she'd trusted him enough to let him do it made it all the more precious.

  Their life was moving forward, their plans in the right direction. The visa application for her brother Kaya to come and live with them in the UK was in progress. As he was the sponsor, he'd already sent documents showing that he could provide financially for the boy and Kaya wouldn’t need public funds when he came to live with them.

  A tap on his office door drew his attention. He pressed the button on the remote control, blanking the screen just as Christopher Star, his long term best friend and joint business owner, strode in. They had a past linked from their time as mercenaries.

  Though they'd shared most things, and Chris had introduced Ben to Selina, he couldn’t allow his friend to see Selina in this state. It was an intimacy he wanted to share between his wife and himself. What's more, it would be a misuse of her hard-won trust.

  In the past, Ben had shared women with Chris. Now seeing his friend reminded Ben of Selina's request for a threesome, something he'd yet to grant her. In truth he didn't know if he could. Selina brought out the possessive side of him like no other. The more time he spent with his wife the less he wanted to share her with anyone else.

  Even if their arrangement was temporary.

  He pushed the thought aside. For now he had a more pressing problem.

  "I came as soon as I could," Chris said when he lowered his tall frame into the seat opposite Ben. "What's going on?"

  Without saying a word Benjamin clicked the mouse of his laptop. The email screen came into view. He swiveled the device around so that his friend could see the words on the page.

  "Read this email."

  Christopher met his gaze, concern etched on his forehead, before he stared at the computer screen. Benjamin rose from his chair and withdrew a bottle of spring water from the small refrigerator in the corner of his office.

  He unscrewed the plastic metal cap and lifted the glass to his lips. Chilled water travelled down his throat, cooling his insides as well as quenching his thirst.

  Though he tried not to focus on them, the words in the email came to him.

  I want you to come home immediately.

  He pictured Uncle Leonard dictating the words to his long-suffering secretary who'd sent the message.

  "What are you going to do?" Christopher's question drew his attention.

  Without looking behind Ben knew his friend's gaze was boring straight into his back. He stared out of the window of his office building located midway between Victoria Station and Vauxhall Bridge. From his window he could see the street level. Cars were sparse on the road.

  "You know how I feel about going back there," Ben said, turning around.

  "Well then, just reply him and say no."

  "It's not that simple. Beatrice arrived from Jo'burg this morning."

  "Shit. You didn't tell me she was coming," Chris said, a frown creasing his face.

  His friend's surprise wasn't lost on him.

  "I didn't know. I only found out this morning that she was here when she called from Heathrow."

  "Bea arriving the same day you get summons from Uncle Leonard? This is just too coincidental."

  Though Christopher wasn't a relative he addressed the patriarch of the Moss family the same way Benjamin did in deference to the man who had brought him up.

  "You talk as if you don't know the man. This is very calculated, and Beatrice is here to make sure that I comply with his wishes. I'm sure of it."

  "I don't like this at all." Christopher stood and walked to stand next to him by the window.

  "On the other hand, I could do what he's not expecting and go home with Selina in tow." A cynical smile tugged Ben's face, his chest tightening with suspicion.

  "Now that would be a slap in his face." Chris barked with laughter. "Can you imagine that kind of commotion that would cause? I noticed Uncle makes no mention of Selina in the email. He does know about her, right?"

  "Of course he knows I'm married. He's showing his disdain by not inviting or referring to her. I'd definitely love the see the shock on his face when my wife shows up."

  He tossed the empty water bottle into the little waste bin.

  "Then again, I don't want Lina enduring my family stresses. She has enough on her plate already." Therein lay his conflict. Protecting his wife was as important to him as showing his respect for her.

  "Fair enough," Chris said. "How much does Selina know about this?"

  He flicked his hand at the laptop.

  "Well, she knows that my family is in South Africa, and she's just met Beatrice this morning but not much else."

  "You are going to have to tell her a lot more before someone else fills in the gaps."

  "I know." Ben swiped his hand through his head, ruffling the tufts of hair, letting his inner turmoil show to the one person who knew him as well as a brother could.

  Discussing his family and past left him with knots of regret in his stomach. Shame made him reluctant to share them with his wife, especially as she'd been so skittish. He'd grown to care for Selina a lot more than he'd bargained for and losing her now they were on the v
erge of a tangible, permanent relationship didn't appeal to him.

  "Beatrice being here complicates things. She's not exactly the most discreet person on earth."

  Chris's laughter resounded in the room. "You can say that again."

  Some years back his sister had stumbled in on both Chris and Ben while they'd been sharing the same girl, who'd been the daughter of their cook and worked as a maid in the house. It had been on one of their breaks from active duty, and Chris usually spent it with Ben and his family except on the occasions he'd travelled back to Chechnya.

  The next time Ben had returned home, he'd been fuming with rage over what he'd witnessed at the frontline of the war in Sierra Leone, only to find out the girl and her mother had been sacked.

  Beatrice had reported him to their uncle who instead of putting the blame squarely where it was due—on Ben and Chris's shoulders—had meted out punishment on the girl and her family.

  When Benjamin had tried to reason with his uncle, the old man had used a very offensive racist term to refer to the girl and her family. Ben's open scorn for the man he'd previously regarded as a father begun then. He just couldn’t respect a man who would treat people with such hatred and disdain.

  Things changed for him forever from that moment.

  Now, he was finally righting some of the wrongs from his past. There was a risk his plans could be derailed. He couldn’t let that happen.

  "I'll speak to Selina the first opportunity I get," Ben said and returned to his desk.

  Chapter Five

  Selina woke an hour later. Benjamin had awoken her up with a phone call and informed her he would return home soon.

  Instead of feeling refreshed from the nap, irrational fears plagued her mind as she tidied up. Ben had been abrupt on the phone. Had something gone wrong? Was he trying to hide something from her? Why was his sister here out of the blue?

  Discomfited, she needed a distraction. Usually Benjamin took responsibility for the care of the sex toys. However when she was anxious, there was only one thing to do. Work. Keep busy.

  Exiting Ben's study, she locked the door and returned to their bedroom. Using their en-suite bathroom sink, she cleaned out the sex toys, patted them dry with a towel, and left them to air dry on the counter. She would return them to the study later.

  She dressed quickly in the clothes Ben had left out for her. The free flowing shape of the dress flattered her curves. She loved that it wasn't clingy since the temperature had risen. Ben always said she looked pretty in it.

  A smile curled her lips as she thought about her husband. She pictured his face screwed up in concentration as he read something on the screen of his laptop or when his mind was buried in thought. Was he accomplishing what he set out to do today at work, or was he thinking about her?

  A wave of dizziness passed over Selina, an ache blooming in her chest. She gripped onto the bottom bed post, swinging round to sit on the edge of the bed.

  For years she'd been drifting, never at home anywhere, or giving herself to anyone fully. Until Benjamin. Until now. He'd found her—no, scratch that—he'd captured her. She wouldn’t have volunteered to be here without his brand of persuasion. Now, she wanted to stay, yearned to belong and call this place her home.

  Permanently.

  Drawing in air through her nose and letting it out, the realization shocked her.

  When had their relationship translated into more than a physical yearning? When did she start not just wanting him, but needing him?

  No! She shook her head. She didn't want to think about this. Not now. All she needed right now was to focus on what she had to do to get through the day. Since they had a guest, Ben's earlier instructions were obsolete. She had to concentrate on taking care of the needs of their visitor. Her worries would be dealt with another time.

  Having made her decision, she pulled her hair into a pony tail, holding it with a hair clip and left their room.

  She found Beatrice in the kitchen dressed in a red Capri trousers and a white tank top, staring into the open fridge. She must have showered. Her hair was wrapped in a white towel and her face free of make-up. Without the sophisticated attire, she appeared quite young, close to Selina's age.

  "Did you sleep well?" Selina asked, keeping her tone light and cheerful. Despite their earlier run-in she was willing to move on and be polite. Beatrice was Ben's sister, after all. Still, she stood at the kitchen door, her shoulders tensed, half-expecting bad attitude.

  "I did," Beatrice said but didn't turn to look at her. Her tone, however, wasn't rude. "Now I need some food."

  Selina let out a sigh of relief as she stepped into the kitchen. Food she could do. Moreover, the woman looked like she needed some meat on her bones.

  "I was about to make some pasta. Would you like some?" It was a little lie. But Beatrice didn't know that. Their Saturday night meals were usually takeaway ordered from their local restaurants. Sometimes Ben took her to eat out.

  Since her husband wasn't home, there should be nothing wrong with her cooking instead.

  "Yes. Please." Beatrice turned around, a smile making her flawless oval face even more girlish. In her left hand was a container of yoghurt she'd taken out from the built-in fridge. She shut the door and opened a drawer, removing a small spoon.

  The familiar way she'd opened the white drawers and extracted the items didn't skip Selina's notice. Like Beatrice belonged here and not Selina. After all, Selina had contributed little to what was in the apartment. Okay, she'd added fuchsia colored scatter cushions to the sitting room sofas to break up the monotony of mink and mahogany. But apart from her clothes and personal items in the bedroom, nothing in the rest of the place reflected her personality.

  Perhaps Beatrice had been here when Benjamin had moved in to the apartment and suggested some of the interior design. In Selina's stomach a worm curled with unease. Inhaling deeply, she pushed back the disturbing niggle.

  Concentrate on here and now.

  From the vegetable rack she took the items she needed to prepare the meal.

  The sound of a phone beeping drew their attention. Her sister-in-law stretched across the counter and picked up the mobile on the black granite-topped island unit.

  "Hi, Louisa," Beatrice said, phone clutched between her left ear and shoulder, yoghurt bowl in her hand as she walked out of the kitchen, her bare feet padding on the grey stone tiles. "Yes, I got in this morning."

  Selina didn't hear the rest of the one-way conversation as Beatrice disappeared out of view, perhaps into her bedroom.

  Glad to be alone in the kitchen, she shook out her shoulders, easing some of the tension there and focused on preparing the meal. Luckily she'd had her groceries delivered from their local supermarket on Thursday so she didn't have to scramble around looking for ingredients to cook with.

  Still, her hands shook as she poured the fresh pasta into the pan, some falling onto the work top. This had special significance for her. It was the first time she was cooking food for a family guest in over ten years. She wanted to take her time and prepare it well. It used to be a thing of pride for her to entertain guests. She had loved hosting family and friends. But that inherent value had been robbed from her.

  Now panic ate into her mind, and she hurried with chopping the vegetables. Benjamin would be home soon, and she wanted to get this right. For Beatrice's sake.

  She poured some oil into the pan and turned the heat on the hob on. She returned to crushing the garlic and chopping the peppers.

  When she looked up, the oil was hot and smoking. In a panic to avoid the smoke alarm from going off, she pulled the pan of the fire in a jerky movement. It sloshed over, and some of it splashed her arm.

  She yelped as her skin burned. Gripping her arm with her left hand, she rushed over to the sink. Cold water cascaded over her burnt flesh, taking away some of the sting.

  The pain ricocheted around her body, her heart pounding loudly in her ears. She gritted her teeth as she fought back the tears that mist
ed her eyes.

  "What are you doing?"

  Benjamin's gravelly voice made her look up. He stood by on the threshold, his body filling the doorway, his lips pursed in a stern line. Her heart jumped in surprise and relief at his presence. She hadn't heard his return.

  "Ben!" She couldn’t hide her breathy voice with the realization that she'd messed up the dinner and he was there to witness it. Her earlier wish for him to come home reversed. She coughed to clear the lump in her throat and didn't meet his searching gaze.

  "I'm just cooking dinner," she said in a much too cheery tone and turned off the tap. "Go and welcome your sister. I'll let you know when it's ready."

  Please, let him not notice the burn.

  His eyebrows pulled together in a frown as he strode across the kitchen towards her.

  Feigning an unperturbed exterior, though her heart pounded in panic, she pulled a sheet of paper towel out and dabbed it over her arm as if she was merely drying it.

  Ben's long fingers wrapped around her upper right arm, his grip tight but not painful.

  "Take the towel off." Something wasn't right with the calmness in his voice.

  Compelled to obey, she reluctantly lifted her left hand with the wet sheet in it, nausea churning in her belly, her gaze fixated on a spot on the grey floor tiles.

  "What happened?" There was thunder in his voice. She lifted her head and stared at his face. His grey eyes darkened to stormy clouds, the groove of creases on his face deepening with his frown.

  "The hot oil splashed on my arm," she said in a weak voice as she fought back tears. There was no point attempting to hide the truth anymore.

  He glanced back at the cooker and saw the still burning hob. Releasing his grip on her arm, he leaned across and switched it off before turning back to her.

  "Let me see that," he said in a surprisingly gentle voice. She had been expecting anger.

  She lifted her right arm so he could see it better in the overhead spotlight. A patch of skin the size of a ten pence coin was already darkening.

  The sound of his growl vibrated throughout the kitchen. Tingles travelled down her spine to her core. A soft gasp escaping her lips as her insides contracted. There was something about the intensity of his response that was so damned erotic she wanted to wrap her legs around his hips while he took her fast and hard against the work surface.