her face.
Although Darcy was used to women viewing him as a sex object, it was something he never had been really comfortable with. His way of dealing with it was by deliberately not thinking about it too much. However, this was completely different. If Elizabeth wanted to stare at his body, he had no problem with it.
He grinned inwardly as he realized that his generosity was about to be repaid measure for measure as Elizabeth started pulling off her T-shirt. His eyes burned and he knew he would be replaying this scene over and over in his mind later that night. He watched as she twisted her long, thick hair with her hand and clipped it to the top of her head. He found himself swallowing hard as she bent down to remove her shoes, his eyes caressing every curve of her body.
As she sat down to remove her pants, Darcy discovered he had a problem. He had enjoyed Elizabeth’s show too much, and the swim trunks he was wearing did nothing to hide that fact. He quickly walked to the pool, realizing that cold water and exertion were his only salvation.
“Good morning,” Elizabeth replied warmly.
His eyes actually smiled slightly at her before he began eating. Elizabeth was snapped out of watching him when she became aware of the change in Charlotte’s posture.
As Elizabeth looked to her, she heard Richard’s voice ask, “Alex, could you move down one?”
Elizabeth looked from Charlotte to Alex and back. Charlotte gave her brother a silent sign and he moved, making room for Richard but looking unhappy about it.
Richard sat and poured himself a cup of coffee from the carafe on the table. “How is everyone this morning?” he asked pleasantly before taking a long sip. When he lifted his head, his eyes sought out Charlotte’s.
“Just fine,” Charlotte answered lightly.
“Good,” Richard nodded, “good.” He acted casual, but it was clear to Elizabeth that he was aware of the hostile glances he was receiving.
“So, were they real?” Charlotte asked quietly.
Richard gasped and choked on his coffee, which left him sputtering for a good thirty seconds.
Charlotte allowed herself one small smile at his expense. When Richard finally regained control, he looked back up at her. “Hum?” she prompted.
“Yes, they were, as a matter of fact,” he answered glibly. “She had a tattoo, as well,” he told her, placing his hand over his right breast to indicate the location. “But it wasn’t as nicely done as yours,” he shrugged.
Charlotte replied with an indifferent sound. “So,” Richard continued, “has the honeymoon couple come down yet?”
Charlotte kicked him hard in the shin under the table, her eyes indicating Darcy. Richard mouthed “ow!” at her.
“You don’t have to pretend I don’t know,” Darcy told them softly, his manner commanding even in this casual setting.
Elizabeth shared a look with Charlotte. “You don’t have a problem with it?” Elizabeth asked, her light tone of voice softening the directness of her question.
“I didn’t say that,” he replied easily, taking a sip of his tea, “but I’m pragmatic. I know I have about as much of a chance of stopping Charles and Jane from being together as I do of stopping a tour bus with my bare hands.”
“You didn’t seem too pleased last night,” Elizabeth observed.
“That was because I don’t want this becoming public,” he told her, looking over at Jane and Charles as they entered the dining room. “I don’t think any of us want to see them on the cover of
Elizabeth had to concede he was correct in that. She nodded in agreement, pleasantly surprised at how well they were getting along.
The meal progressed smoothly. Elizabeth was confused to see Charlotte behaving in her usual fashion toward Richard. They were gossiping and joking as if last night had never happened. Elizabeth didn’t understand their relationship, and she worried for her friend. But it was clear that Charlotte wanted to continue the status quo, at least in public.
The following Tuesday brought the last night of a long string of performances. They had been traveling and playing for nine consecutive nights, and everyone was looking forward to a break. They were relieved to know they would then have two nights to crash before starting up again. Elizabeth was simply looking forward to getting to sleep in a hotel again. It was funny, she mused, how something as simple as a private room and a real bed could come to mean so much to her, but right now, it was the height of luxury and exactly what she desired.
She mused on these thoughts as she watched Charles and the dancer for the tour practice. The exotic- looking girl wound herself around Charles in a fashion displaying her extreme flexibility. Jane had never been jealous of the girl, as it was clear that Charles had no interest in her. During their weekly hair touch-up session, Sarah had informed them that Richard had bedded Lizbeth for a week or so during the first leg of the tour, which surprised no one.
“She was too obsessed with her own body,” Charlotte had explained cryptically, when asked by Elizabeth why it hadn’t lasted.
Elizabeth had been somewhat surprised to learn the name of the beautiful woman. She felt as exotic as white bread compared to the dancer in the skintight leather catsuit with whom she shared a name.
“So, tell me something,” Elizabeth asked Richard and Darcy, who were standing beside her offstage clearly enjoying the show even if they had no deeper interest in the girl.
Darcy turned his attention to her immediately. Elizabeth indicated the music playing and asked, “Did Charles write that?”
Darcy and Richard looked at each other and broke out in huge grins, which showed their family resemblance. The song blaring on the playback was “Bound,” a well-written, if somewhat shocking, song about sexual domination. The memorable chorus ran:
Elizabeth waited expectantly to be let in on the joke.
“No, actually,” Darcy finally replied. “Richard wrote the lyrics, I helped with the melody.”
Richard put his hand on his chest and bowed.
“Somehow I’m not surprised,” Elizabeth said mockingly. “Do I dare ask why?” she grinned.
At this Richard and Darcy broke out laughing.
“What?” Elizabeth insisted.
Darcy pulled himself together. “We’ll tell you, but it’s a secret, okay?” He motioned her closer and placing a hand on her shoulder, said in a low tone, “The truth is we wrote it as a joke.”
Elizabeth looked at him, confused.
“We wanted to see if we could get Charles to say ‘Smack my ass’ a half-dozen times a night,” Richard chortled.
Elizabeth looked in disbelief. “I can’t believe you did that,” she deadpanned.
“Well, it’s not all bad. After all, he gets Lizbeth writhing around him each night,” Richard said, somewhat defensively.
“Yeah, except you were the one who did her,” Darcy replied, chuckling.
Elizabeth was amazed. She had rarely seen Darcy so open and, well, playful. And she didn’t believe for a moment that the only reason Richard wrote that song was to pick on poor Charles. Still she had to admit the image was very amusing.
“Oh, come on!” Elizabeth said with mock scorn. “This is
Darcy made an “eww” face that Richard noticed and laughed at.
“You should know by now, Elizabeth, not to believe all the rumors,” Darcy said, his tone still light, but she could see his eyes had turned serious.
