The Virgin

Elle was vicious too in her own laughing way. Søren took pain seriously. Elle didn’t. He’d hurt you because he had to. She’d hurt you because she wanted to. And when she wanted to hurt you, you wanted to be hurt.

“Elle...chérie...Maîtresse,” he said, tilting up her chin to meet her eyes. “No more serving for you.”

“Then what the fuck am I doing?”

Kingsley bent low as if he was about to kiss her. Instead, he put his mouth at her ear and whispered.

“I have a much better idea.”

36

2015

Scotland

“AND THE REST is history,” Kingsley said.

Nora reached out, and she and Kingsley clinked their glasses in a toast.

“One more toast,” Nora said. Kingsley held out his glass again.

“To what?” Kingsley asked.

“You punching the shit out of him.” She laughed and looked at Søren over her shoulder. He glared at her.

“That hurt,” Søren said. “I couldn’t take a full breath for two weeks.”

“You get no sympathy from me, blondie,” Nora said. “I couldn’t masturbate for two weeks after you sprained my wrist that one time in your dungeon.”

“You sprained your own wrist.”

“Because you were tickling me.”

“If you had taken it like a good girl and hadn’t thrashed so much...”

“How have I put up with him for twenty-two years?” she asked Kingsley.

“A divine mystery,” Kingsley said. Still laughing, he looked at Søren. “Now you know. That was the year I met Juliette, almost killed a man over her, came home and got everything back I’d lost and then some.”

“Good year for you,” Søren said.

“Hard year.” Kingsley met Nora’s eyes.

“Very hard year,” she agreed.

“Did you ever speak to Kyrie again?” Søren asked.

“No.” Nora drank the last drops of her wine and gazed into the bottom of the now-empty glass. “I was angry with her for a long time for letting me go without her. Then angry at myself for being stupid enough for expecting her to leave with me. I’d let the Church have you. Maybe I thought God owed me one.”

“Did she remain in the order?”

“As far as I know, she did. When she finished her novitiate she was going back to the Monican abbey in Northern California. She might still be there. She might have left. I asked my agent about her once, but they’re not in touch anymore.”

“Do you ever think about her?” Kingsley asked.

“Sometimes. Not often. It was what it was while it lasted. Then it was gone. As soon as I was back with you at the town house...it all felt like another dream. Honestly I don’t think Kyrie was even kinky. She just wanted to be with someone before she took her final vows and when I decided to leave, she knew she had to lie to get me to go without her. Tonight was the first time in years I’ve thought about her. The castle reminds me of the abbey. Although—” she smiled at her surroundings “—the beds are much bigger.”

“Thank God for that,” Kingsley said. “I can’t fuck in a twin bed. I’m not a kid anymore.” Kingsley glanced at Søren, who only shook his head in playful disgust.

“Do you two need some alone time?” Nora asked. “I could go check on the cake. And taste-test it. All of it.”

“Stay,” Søren said. “If he’s too tired for Juliette, he’s too tired for me.”

“Not true,” Kingsley said. “I don’t have to get it up to bottom.”

Nora groaned, collapsed on her side and covered her head with a pillow.

“I didn’t need to hear that,” she said from underneath her pillow.

Søren pulled it off her face and looked down at her.

“Grow up,” he said.

“Do I have to?”

She sat back up again and started to say something along the lines of “Please don’t make my life any weirder than it is” when a knock came on the door.

“I know he’s in there.” Juliette’s voice came through the door. “You can’t hide forever, you French coward.”

“Come in!” Nora called out before Kingsley could stop her. Juliette came in with Céleste in her arms.

“I wasn’t hiding,” Kingsley said. “We were reminiscing. It’s what you do before a wedding. And what is she doing up?” he asked, taking Céleste from Juliette’s arms. “What are you doing still awake, young lady?” he asked in French.

“Your daughter needs her good-night kiss,” Juliette said. “And so do I.”

“I wasn’t tired,” Céleste said, wrapping her arms around his neck. She was a beautiful little girl who did take after her mother, especially in her personality. She certainly had her father wrapped around her tiny fingers, as her mother did. “And I can’t sleep until you kiss me.”

Kingsley kissed her on the end of her nose. “Better?” he asked.

“One more.”

He kissed her again. “Now you sleep.”

“Not yet,” Nora said. “She has to kiss me good-night, too.”

“Kiss your aunt and uncle,” Kingsley said, patting her on the bottom of her little pink nightgown. Nora held out her hand and helped Céleste navigate her way across the rumpled sheets and piles of pillows on the bed.