TouchStone for giving (The Story of Us Trilogy) (56 page)

things seem rushed and you haven’t had the wedding or the wedding night you deserve. I plan to

rectify that, starting now.” He smothers my face in kisses and caresses my chin with a curious thumb.

“I am so happy we’re married. It’s all I’ve ever wanted … you know that, don’t you?”

I lose myself in an indulgent stare. “Yes, Ayden. I know.”

“I haven’t been an attentive husband and I want to change that … but first, I need to explain some

things to you; to set the record straight. Is that alright?”

“I can wait …” I can’t conceal my rapture.

He floors me with a playboy smile. “I’ll make it worth your while, believe me.”

I’m nodding my head, in need of no further persuasion. “Oh, I do.”

He’s laughing softly and rubbing noses. “There’s my two favourite words.”

“Mine too.”

He pulls back the door but before I can take a single step, he slides his right arm beneath me and

cradles me in his arms. “Isn’t it traditional to carry your bride across the threshold?”

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I begin to giggle. “Yes, it is.”

“Where would you like to be set down Mrs Stone?”

“Next to my husband.”

“Next to or on top off?” He winks, playfully.

“On top of would be perfect.”

“On top of, it is.” The sofa creaks with the sound of creasing leather when he plonks himself down

on it, with me across his lap like a midnight blue blanket. He runs his right hand the length of my

shins; starting at the ankle, stopping just above the knee. “My signature colour looks good on you. We

make quite a team. ”

“We do.” I slot a hand beneath his hairline, my fingers slipping underneath his collar. With gentle

devotion he removes my shoes, one after the other, and massages my toes and the balls of my feet

deftly with fingers that touch me so tenderly, dotingly, as if handling a delicate flower that will tarnish

if handled roughly. My head rests on his heart, allowing the echoing thump to sooth me. His arms

enfold me like a protective shield. Nothing and no-one can hurt me now.

He licks his lips, preparing to speak. “Let’s get this over with … I knew who the two guys were in

Vegas and arranged for them to follow us. I said they were bodyguards so I wouldn’t have to explain

everything to you. You didn’t need to know what was happening …”

“But I did! I heard you on the phone to Jake, the night we arrived in Vegas. You were worried and

upset about the shipment being intercepted.”

He releases his grip and lifts me off his chest. “You knew? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want you to worry about me … you had enough to deal with. That’s why I was concerned

about the bodyguards. I thought you were in danger.”

“Oh, baby! I’m sorry. I was never in danger. They were MI5 agents, pretending to be watching me

before taking me back to the UK.”

“What do you mean pretending …” I push back off his chest and lift my head. I don’t know what to

think.

“The interception was arranged. The goods were inoperable; the chips were defective and couldn’t

be modified for metal detectors or weaponry of any kind.”

“You’ve lost me …”

“I was working
with
MI5. They wanted to find a way of flushing out extremists in Riyadh and

approached me about arranging a sting operation.”

“But Jake thought it was his baby. He felt bad about letting you down.”

He’s rubbing his chin with his forefinger and thumb, thinking. “Yeah. I’ll have to deal with that. I

told them to go through him. It looked better that way.”

“So he didn’t know?”

“He had no idea. I had to act as if it was all real.”

“You did a good job Ayden.” I’m feeling duped. “You had us all fooled.” I try to wriggle off his

knee.

“Where are you going?”

“To change. I think I’ve had enough role play for one day.”

He locks me in position. “Don’t be upset. The British Secret Service set all this up months ago. I

had to go along with it.”

“But you should have trusted us Ayden. We were worried about you. You were on the news …”

“It’s all publicity for ASMI.”

“Is it? You being dragged away from your wedding by MI5? How’s that going to improve your

reputation?” I’m not convinced.

“They’ll release a statement to the press, saying I helped them with their investigation and I had no

part in the transporting of electronic components to undesirables in the Middle East.”

“And that will make everything alright, will it?”

“Yes, it will.” He looks sternly into my disbelieving eyes.

“I hope you know what you were doing.” I lift off his hand. “Let go of me please.”

The walk to the kitchen is a matter of yards but it’s with a heavy heart that I pad over in that

direction. I’m aware of Ayden’s eyes lancing through my jacket. I’m wounded by his deceit. I spin

around. “So, what else haven’t you told me? You kissed me in the office at Thames House to shut me

up. What were you afraid I might say?” My arms have knotted themselves into an involuntary

barricade across my chest.

He looks like a man caught in the act of lying. “I’m not sure …”

“Don’t do this Ayden. Don’t shut me out!” If it didn’t look so petty, I would actually stamp my

foot. “Tell me. Tell me now.”

“Don’t stand over there scowling Beth. You’re much too beautiful to do that to your face. Come

back here … please.”

I unfold my arms and return to the sofa, sitting a respectable couple of inches away from him. “I’m

listening.”

He blows out hot air and reaches for his neck, making me flinch. This is going to be bad.

“Just before we landed in Vegas, someone entered this house.”

“What! Who?”

“Hold on, let me tell this my way.” He pats my hand affectionately. “I bought this house then the

one next door, as you know, and had them remodelled … that was the time Elise and I met up and …”

I can barely contain my revulsion at the thought of him with her, even if he only fucked her out of

obligation. “I know all about Elise. What has she got to do with any of this?”

“She knew the alarm combinations and she was the one who entered this house.” He gives me a

knowing look.

“You can’t know that for sure. It could have been anyone.”

He’s shaking his head and pressing buttons on his iPhone. “Take a look.”

Filled with dread, I see a blonde haired woman, the exact same woman from the video on the SD

card, standing in the entrance downstairs. “Who took this photo?”

“It’s an automated response system. She had no idea I had an additional feature fitted. If you don’t

end the combination with # it takes a photo and I get notified. She didn’t know that. As soon as I saw

it was her I deactivated the whole system. I didn’t want it to go directly to the police and have them

here asking awkward questions.” He places the iPhone on the coffee table, anticipating a barrage of

questions from me.

“If you knew, why did you deactivate it? She was trespassing, just like a burglar? What if she’d set

fire to the place?”

“She wouldn’t do that …”

“How do you know? She might want to get back at you for … for not being here for her anymore.” I

want to say, for not fucking her like a wild animal, but I hold back.

“She wouldn’t want to hurt me, not like that.” He’s shaking his head. Is he actually defending her?

“She may have stolen something valuable. One of your ornaments or paintings or your clothes …” I

wish he would stop shaking his head.

“She has no reason to steal from me. She wants for nothing.”

Nothing!

“What do you mean, nothing?”

Words don’t come easily to him. ”I … I give her a generous allowance.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes. “You do what! She’s a kept woman? Kept by you?” Now I’m

shouting.

“Calm down Beth. It’s not like that. She works, of course. I just send her a little extra to help her

out.”

“How much?”

“Does it matter?”

“It matters to me.”

“I’m not sure …”

“Bullshit!”

“Beth!”

“What is it with you? Do you actually think you’re protecting me by not telling me stuff like this?

What did you think? You’d marry me then drip feed me with all these fucking secrets and I wouldn’t

be able to do a thing about it?” I’m throwing my jacket in his direction and stomping across the tiled

floor, feeling utterly despondent.

When I turn to face him, a twinge of something indescribable pierces my blouse before coming to

rest in my heart. His head is in his hands. His words are barely audible as they leave his mouth in a

whisper, catching fire as they fall from his lips, igniting in me something maternal. I kneel before

him, removing his hands from his doleful face; the frown lines are forming and he is lost …

“Ayden, I love you but with every new revelation, you’re pushing me away.”

“I don’t mean to.” In an attempt to appeal to my sympathetic nature, he takes my face in both hands

and captures me, forcing me to see behind his eyes, to grasp the depth of his remorse. I see it.

“I know that, but I feel like I’m on the outside looking in; listening for clues, trying to pick up a

scent … waiting to be notified. I can’t live like that and neither can you.” I brush his lips with my

thumb. “Oh, Ayden, you’ve come so far. Your open book day, Elise, our wedding, the ribbon … don’t

shut me out now. I’m here. I belong to you, remember? You belong to me.”

“I do Beth … and there’s so much that’s has happened over the years. Most of it I’m too afraid to

tell you.”

“You can tell me anything. None of it matters. But you have to trust me.” These words from my lips

touch his heart.

“It’s not easy.” He forces an anxious smile. “I don’t know why Elise came here. She said she

wanted to come round when we were away and I told her I was out of the country. She came anyway.”

“Why?”

“For old times? For a memento? I don’t know. But, what I do know is, I remember leaving a file out

in the study detailing the flight and delivery arrangements of that shipment. I think she may have had

something to do with the interception at Riyadh airport.”

“So that’s why you didn’t want me to say anything about the folder I saw?”

He nods, eyes down, hand massaging those troublesome muscles contracting in his neck.

“You were protecting her?”

“Yes.” He raises his head. “But not for the reasons you think. Not out of some deep sense of loyalty

or commitment but because …”

“What?”

“ … Because she has stuff on me that could ruin me. I think if she was cornered with no other

means of escape, she’d use whatever she has to save herself.”

“What could she possibly use against you?” I ask, as if I didn’t know.

“Things I did with her, to her, unforgivable things.” He turns from me, unable to meet my eyes,

fearing what he might see there: stomach churning revulsion, horror or even loathing.

“Ayden. Look at me.” In a slow motion turn he settles his eyes on mine. “Elise didn’t come here to

collect anything … she came here to drop something off.” I reach for my purse while he looks on

silently, squinting, “Do you know what this is?”

He takes the SD card from between my finger and thumb and places it on his palm. “It’s an SD

card. A portable storage device. What’s on it?”

I retrieve it. “Don’t you know?” The air temperature drops a couple of degrees in the room at the

moment of realisation.

“I hope it’s not what I think it is,” he states, turning the colour of a crumpled tissue.

I snigger. “It is.”

“Oh, fuck,” he whispers softly, burying his face in his hands so deeply, it may never see the light of

day again.

“Do you want to see what’s on it?”

He gives me a startled look. “No!”

Nonchalantly I toss it back into my purse. “That’s alright. I’ve already seen it.”

I walk over to the kitchen with my back to him, feigning bravado, digging my nails into my right

palm to distract me from a sinking feeling as my self-confidence plummets. I snatch at the bottle of

Chardonnay from the fridge and pour out two glasses, taking care not to show how violently my hands

are shaking.

He takes a glass from me and throws back half in three noisy gulps, before readjusting his clothes

and turning to face me. “How did you get hold of it?”

“It was in the bedside cabinet.” I smile amicably. “My side.”

“And you thought what … you’d see what was on it?”

“Yes. I actually thought you’d left it for me.” I laugh at the absurdity of the idea. “How wrong was

I?”

“Very. Very wrong. You should never have seen it.”

I swivel around. “Why’s that? Why would I not want to see my husband doing something like that

with another woman on my wedding night?” Now I’m laughing. “If this whole thing wasn’t so tragic it

would be hilarious but, as it is… it’s way beyond that.” I focus my attention on my wine and take a

large sip, allowing it to trickle down my throat like a giant tear. “Tell me why you did it.”

He’s turning his face from me, screwing his eyes shut tight, blocking out light, blocking me out.

With the tingling citrus taste of wine on my tongue, I speak out. “Shall I tell you why you can’t