Becoming His Ch. 05

"I'm very grateful," Lila whispered. Tears pricked at her eyes. "It means so much to me."

"I can see how much it means to you. Now how does one to five every Wednesday work for you? That will give you approximately three hours to work on your own before I come in and have my look." Ed smiled at her. "And I'm sure a certain someone will be happy to have you in the city once a week."

"Oh, I'm beginning to think you're all in cahoots," Lila said, flushing. "Yes, that's all right. My mother and Robert will have to deal with it."

At the same time, her heart sank, remembering the sounds from two nights before. She began to gather her canvases back up, her fingers trembling.

"They'll get used to it. And once I feature some of your work on the walls of this gallery -- they'll come around. I've seen it a thousand times. Besides, your mother had an eye for art once. She's probably just too brokenhearted to give it another chance now." Ed gave Lila a shrewd look. "Give them some time. A little success will be the best antidote for all their fears."

"A little success is going to take more than some time," Lila said, but she smiled at him. "Thank you. It means a lot."

"Let me see you to the door. And I'll see if Adeline Edmonds has any time to come in sometime in the near future to meet you." He indicated toward the black and white mosaic on their way back toward the front doors. "She was just like you, four years ago. Now she's making her way around the gallery circuit, a real success."

"Then I- I'd be happy to meet her," Lila said, swallowing her surprise. "Thank you. It really means a lot to me."

"So you keep saying," he said with a smile, before holding the door open for her. "Watch your step, mademoiselle. Wouldn't want to send Cameron damaged goods."

On the walk to Cameron's apartment, Lila called Emily, who picked up almost immediately.

"Well? How was it?"

"Amazing. He's offering me studio time for free. I don't know, I feel like I'm a little in over my head." Lila caught hold of a lamppost and swung herself around before continuing on her way. "It feels like everything's happened so fast."

"Well, that's how things happen when you have your billionaire boyfriend on your said," said Emily.

"He's not my boyfriend," Lila said automatically.

"I don't know, give it a little time."

"That's what everyone keeps saying about everything." She sighed, pressing her way through a herd of tourists down a busy avenue. "My mom and Robert had a huge argument over me going into the city today. It was my fault; I brought it up during dinner, and she defended me. I mean, it sounded really bad, Em. I thought -- "

She broke off.

"Thought what?" Emily asked, an edge on her voice.

"Oh, it's nothing. Anyway, I'm almost to his place. I'll call you later. Or tomorrow. Probably tomorrow."

"Fine. Make sure you call before noon. Any later and I may have departed for camping."

"Fine. I hope you'll still be a successful cover story for Friday."

"Just be out about it and tell them, Lila!"

"I can't." Lila bit her lip. She had reached the stoop of Cameron's apartment building. "Okay, bye."

"Bye."

She hung up and drew a breath, looking up at the brownstone. Lit by the light of day, it looked much taller and more imposing than she remembered it from the night he'd brought her there. How long had it been? Two weeks? Three? And now she was scheduled to go to a party with him, where they'd be surrounded by others.

She felt distinctly that it was either the beginning of something, or the end of everything, and she didn't know which possibility frightened her more.

Cameron hadn't given her any instructions to follow upon her arrival, and it wasn't five yet, so she sat on the stoop and squinted up and down the street in the bright sun. On the inside, she waged the same internal war that she constantly waged when it came to Cameron.

Predictably, he walked out of the narrow drive that ran along the building at exactly five. Just as predictably, the tumult in her mind faded when he reached down to help her to her feet.

She stood, dusting off her skirt, her hand slipping out of his.

"Mr. Winthrop," she said.

"Lila." He looked down at her, his eyes full of light. "So how did you fare with Ed?"

"Ed's a sweetheart," Lila said immediately. She followed him around the corner to the door he'd taken her in before. "But I don't believe him when he says he's doing everything out of the goodness of his heart. What did you offer him?"

"You, on a silver platter. You're a talented young lady, Lila. Don't sell yourself short." At the top of the staircase, he unlocked his apartment door and ushered her inside. "Welcome back. You might notice some differences in decor."

"Decor?" she began to ask. Then she stopped and gasped, her mouth falling open. The curtains were drawn, the rooms lit solely by the soft glow of flickering candlelight. Jazz played from somewhere, spilling easily into her ears. She could have sworn it was the same song that had been playing in his car that fateful night he'd taken her driving.

"Oh, my goodness," she said, pressing the back of one hand to her mouth. "You really didn't have to."

"Of course I didn't have to." He leaned closer to her, his hands skimming across her shoulders. "I wanted to. And I'm going to cook."

"You cook?" she asked, following him into the kitchen.

"It's a skill one tends to learn when he has to fend for himself," came Cameron's reply.

She blushed and hung back, watching him open the refrigerator. Something was already bubbling away on the stovetop, and it smelled divine. Her mouth watered.

"If I'd known..." She pulled helplessly at her skirt. "I would've worn something nicer."

"I almost forgot," he said. "Go into the bedroom. There are a few boxes on the bed, some options for Friday evening. You can pick one of them out to wear tonight, if you like."

"Sure," Lila said. She pushed away from the archway and stepped in and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. "Thanks."

"Believe me, princess, I'm the one who should be thanking you."

Heat spilling across her cheeks, she made her way quietly down the hall to the bedroom. The boxes were plain and white, each tied with a bow. She undid the first and unfolded a layer of white tissue paper to reveal something gorgeous and glittering inside, but it wasn't exactly the sort of thing one could wear out. She stuck her head out the bedroom door.

"Hey!" she called to Cameron. "You didn't tell me these were... sexy clothes!"

"Sexy clothes?" He appeared at the other end of the hall, spatula in hand. "I believe you mean lingerie, Miss Henson. I'm sure it's an alien subject to someone as young and innocent as you, but I prefer my women well-dressed down to their panties. Try another box."

Blushing furiously, Lila retreated back into the bedroom and untied the second box. She was relieved to find that this one did contain a dress, a beautiful sage green Selkie dress with puff sleeves. She stripped down quickly and pulled it over her head, only to find herself stuck on the zipper in the back.

"Cameron!" she called.

"Yes, princess?" he responded, appearing a moment later at the bedroom door. He grinned, noting her predicament. "Oh, let me give you a hand with that. What do you think?"

"It's cute." She eyed her reflection in his tall mirror. "But it's scandalously short and makes me look exactly my age, which may not be best."

"Wear it tonight," he said, his eyes eating her up. "The other ones are more elegant. Mature, even."

She blushed and began to struggle again with the zipper. He pulled it deftly down and stood in the doorway, his gaze expectant.

"Out," she said, her cheeks burning. "I have to try the other ones."

"And if you need help with their zippers?" he teased.

"Then I'll call you back! Out!"

He left, laughing to himself. She felt stupid. He'd seen her naked the other day, or nearly. He'd done that thing to her with his mouth. He'd had her tied down, for Christ's sake, yet now she couldn't stomach the thought of standing naked in front of him. She glanced at the windows. It was the light. It had to be the light. In his bedroom in Weston, it had been dim. Here, it was still bright.

Yes, it was definitely that, not that she'd lost her nerve.

She opened the third and fourth boxes together and found two more gowns, these ones much more moderate. It took her only a moment to decide on the first without so much as trying it on, thanks to the ambitiously low cut neckline on the second. She folded them back up and put them back into their boxes before turning back to the lingerie, which was gold and green.

"How does one put on this contraption?" she wondered aloud, holding up the garter belt.

A little burst of laughter came from the doorway. She turned around, her hands flying immediately to her chest. She was in only her bra and panties.

"Cameron!" she squeaked. "You scared me."

"Relax, baby girl." He stepped in. His arms encircled her, his lips swooping down to graze the back of her neck. "It's only me. So which one will it be?"

"The lavender," she said. Her hands, still entangled in the garter belt, fell helpless to her sides. "I was just wondering about -- about the lingerie."

"Evidently," he said, loosing the belt from her fingers. "Would you like help putting it on?"

"Oh, I don't know." She shifted uneasily from foot to foot. "It's awfully pretty, but I don't know if it will suit me."

"Nonsense. I had it ordered to suit you and your coloration. Now take off your other things."

His eyes rested on her, lazy in their gaze but insistent in their intent. She reached up and slipped her bra straps from her shoulders, unable to defy him. He let out a low chuckle from the back of his throat.

"I didn't say you had to give me the full striptease treatment. But by all means, continue."

"I'm not giving you a striptease," she said, her cheeks incandescent. She reached behind her back and unclasped her bra and let it fall, leaving her arms around her chest. "I'm just shy, is all."

"What do you have to be shy about?" He reached up and took hold of her wrists and gently moved her arms down to her sides. Her breasts shone in the light coming through the window, smooth creamy skin topped with rosy nipples which had tightened beneath the twin influences of the cool air and his gaze.

"I'm just shy," Lila said, ducking her head bashfully. She cast her eyes in the direction of the door. "Don't you have to make dinner, anyway?"

"Dinner's on autopilot. Why don't you let me put these pretty things on you?"

He gently positioned the lingerie bra around her, where it cupped her breasts like a golden cage. She found she could move again, and clasped it up in the back while he hooked his thumbs in her panties and worked them down her long slender legs. He fixed the garter belt around her, and she stepped into the lingerie thong, steadying herself with a hand on his arm. Suddenly, as she sat on the edge of the bed to pull up the stockings, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and saw that she'd been transformed by a little bit of green and gold into something glowing, almost beautiful. For a moment she couldn't take her eyes off herself. Then she looked at Cameron.

"Thank you."

"Thank you," he said, his eyes tracing her up and down. A timer sounded off in the kitchen, and he turned abruptly and left her alone.

She picked up the green dress from the bed and pulled it over her head once more before tiptoeing back down the hall. In the archway to the kitchen she stood patiently until he came to zip her up, and then she went to perch herself on one of the high stools at the little square table in the corner of the kitchen. There were three candles in the center, flickering gaily. One tall, one short, one fat, each in a different brass candlestick holder.

"I feel like a princess," she suddenly admitted, turning in her seat to face Cameron. She blinked, recollecting their conversation from a few days prior. "How's your father?"

His shoulders stiffened slightly, then relaxed. For a moment she regretted asking, then he spoke.

"He's fine. Back home. Old ticker's still ticking."

"Did you visit?" Lila asked, unable to stop herself.

"No. I've told you before I'm not on speaking terms with my parents. They're hardly my parents anyway, given I renounced them."

"How did you decide to do that?" Lila asked quietly.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said, his tone flat.

She realized she had probably stuck her nose out too far once again, and said nothing more. At the stove, he lifted the lid off of a large pot, and the wonderful smell of beef stew came floating out. He served it up onto two plates along with heaping portions of potatoes au gratin and roasted asparagus, and Lila ate to her heart's content, no effort in it at all.

"Wow," she said with her mouth full of stew. "You're a great cook."

"You'll find I strive for greatness in all endeavors."

She glanced across at him, raising her eyebrows.

"Besides being a good son?"

He looked at her and laughed.

"All right, I'll give you a pass on that one. But let me remind you that you know nothing about my past, or why I made the decisions I did." His tone had cooled. Any cooler, and it would become polar. "All I'd ask is your understanding, Lila."

"It's a little hard to understand when one hasn't been told anything," she said. Then she sighed. "It's all right. I just... You're very enigmatic about certain things."

"Yes, because I don't like to think about certain things." He eyed her plate. "Eat your asparagus."

She ate, spear by spear. When their plates were empty, he left everything to soak in the sink and poured after-dinner champagne into two small flutes, one of which he handed to her.

"I don't know if I should," she said, eyeing it. "I still have to take the train home."

"Nonsense, I'm driving you. Besides, the night is still young. Come sit with me."

It was only six. Letting Cameron pull her into the living room and down onto his lap in the big armchair, Lila imagined her mother and Robert sitting down to dinner alone. Would her mother set the table as usual, fussing with the cutlery and the napkins? Would Robert leave his study? Would they argue again?

"Penny for your thoughts?" Cameron asked in her ear, twirling a strand of her hair about his finger.

She exhaled sharply.

"It's my mother. I'm worried about her," she said.

He turned her sideways in her arms and looked at her, his eyes cutting straight through her.

"She'll leave him if she leaves him. There's nothing you can do about it, one way or the other," he said, a little stoniness in his voice.

She sat there grasping at straws, torn between her initial judgment and her struggle to imagine another reason why it might say it that way.

"It sounds as if you speak from experience," she said at last.

He shrugged, but she felt him tense beneath her.

"Maybe I do. I don't want to talk about it right now. But I do want to do something with you, if you'd like." His fingers ran idly down her shoulder, raising goosebumps on her arm. "You've enjoyed everything we've done together so far, haven't you?"

"Yes," she blurted out, her cheeks growing warm.

"Then may I show you something else?" he asked, rising up and lifting her with him into his arms.

She clung to him. His smell enfolded her. In that moment she would have done anything to stop time, to stay there forever, with his arms strong beneath her and his heartbeat pressing steadily against her side. He felt like shelter in a storm. She trembled in his grasp.

"Yes," she said softly.

"Good," he said.

He carried her slowly into the bedroom and lay her back against the pillows. She watched him, her head feverish. The light coming through the windows had become dimmer, deeper, dusky in its hue, the shadows of trees lengthening across the rippled expanse of the Charles.

A thought popped into her head, almost too much to bear.

"Cameron," she blurted out.

"Yes?" he asked, turning away from his closet.

She swallowed it down.

"Nothing. I'm sorry."

"It's all right." He turned to face her, something in hand. "You look like a perfect little doll. Let me help you out of that dress."

She sank her teeth into her lower lip.

"May I please leave it on?"

"Not unless you want me to rip it off."

Cheeks scarlet, she shifted so that he could unzip the short zipper and lift it over her head. Then she repositioned herself against the pillows, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. He watched her, his gaze lazy. Then he came nearer, and she saw that he was holding something in his hands. He bent toward her and lifted it over her head, and she realized that it was a velvet scarf, which he fit over her eyes and deftly tied into place. She blinked, the world dark, shapes insubstantial, and closed her eyes, giving in to oblivion.

"I can't wait to bring you to the party on Friday," he murmured, his voice accompanying her into darkness. "I want to share everything with you. Besides, I'll be the luckiest man alive with a pretty little thing like you on my arm."

Lila was sure he could see her blushing beneath the blindfold. His shape leaned down, and his lips brushed against hers, planting a chaste kiss on her mouth.

"Now lie back." He adjusted the pillows beneath her. "Hold out your wrists. Do you remember your words?"

"Green," she whispered. "Yellow if I want to slow down or talk. Red for a full stop."

"And if you have no words?"

"Tap my hand." She shuddered a little in nervous anticipation. "What are you going to do to me?"

"Whatever I want, princess. Within reason, of course." She could hear a smile behind his words, though she could no longer see him at all. "One tap on the headboard for yellow, three for red. Understood?"

"Yes," she said, and she fell back into the darkness. Behind the blindfold, everything was timeless. Her thoughts slowed to a trickle. He took her wrists. She expected restraints, like the ones he had fixed on her the other day, but instead the softness of a silken cord met her skin. He bound her hands together above her head and fastened them to the headboard of the bed.

"Pull," he said. His voice was darker now. "Show me you couldn't get away even if you tried."

She tried. The cord held fast. Her breath caught in her throat. She heard him growl somewhere above her.

"Color?" he asked.

"Green," she said breathlessly.

"Good. Open wide, princess."

She blinked, her lashes grating against the velvet cloth of the blindfold. Then something pressed against her lips, and she realized what he meant. She opened her mouth, her cheeks burning, and he slipped something smooth and round and rubbery into place before pulling a strap tight behind her head.

"What's this?" she tried to ask. Her voice came out muffled.

Above her, he laughed. Then his fingers brushed against her cheek, and he softly pinched, not hard enough to hurt.

"I forget sometimes that you know nothing," he said. "It's a ball gag. And you look lovely with it in your mouth. Almost as lovely as you'll look once you start drooling."

Drooling? Lila felt she might die of embarrassment. Her only saving grace was that he'd spared her seeing herself in such a state. She worked her tongue around the ball in her mouth, saliva beginning to flow. That would explain the imminent drooling. She felt certain that she was exploring uncharted territory, activities even Tori would have nothing to say about.

The rational part of her brain wanted to be humiliated. But the animal part was alert, and it was aroused, and heat had begun to curl in the pit of her stomach, a no longer entirely unfamiliar sensation beginning to wind its way up from her toes toward her core. If she'd had her mouth, she would have asked why she liked this. Instead she lay in dumb, abject silence, while Cameron did God knew what around her. She had given up trying to follow his shadow beyond the cloth of the blindfold.