Fragile Crystal: Rubies and Rivalries (The Crystal Fragments Trilogy) (12 page)

“How lovely,” said Maria after she finished another slice of chorizo. “You should wear it more. It would suit your eyes.”

“I sold it.”

This was the first thing that Kris had said that appeared to make Maria pause. “You
sold
it?” she asked, almost incredulous. Her look gave Kris a small sense of triumph. “Why on earth did you do that?”

Kris stopped before replying. The first question in her mind was why on earth she should tell Maria Gosselin anything, but she could not resist pushing even this small victory home. “There was something else I wanted. I needed the money for... something closer to home.”

The waiter came across to clear their plates away, halting when he saw Kris’s dish largely untouched. She however waved him away, savouring another treat that was far tastier, a lightheaded pleasure.

Maria looked scornful. “Are you really that much of a fool? Daniel would have bought you anything—anything you wanted.”

“I know,” Kris replied, sipping her wine for the first time and letting it roll around her mouth, enjoying the sensation of it against her tongue before it splashed down her throat. “In any case, I don’t think jewellery suits me anywhere near as much as it does you.”

Unconsciously Maria’s hands were lifted to her ears, the ruby on her finger flashing in the low light of the restaurant. Behind Kris’s back, a trio of Fado musicians were making their way to the small clearing at the far end of the room where three stools had been placed. A couple of people at other tables let out small cheers and laughter. There were two male guitarists and a female singer, the men perhaps in their forties or fifties even, the woman late thirties, slim and pleasant looking.

Feeling emboldened, Kris returned her attention to Maria. “How long did you know Daniel?”

“I told you. Nine years.”

“That’s not what I mean. How long were you
with
Daniel?”

For a second, it appeared as though Maria’s eyes were filled with pain, but she composed herself.

“I was the first,” she said. “Nine years ago.”

“The first? I thought that was his wife.”

At this, Maria snorted. “I doubt it, not in the way that I—that
we
—understand it. I’m not talking about his first love. Who knows if his wife was even that? Perhaps the young Daniel Stone loved a girl at school, or fumbled with a young woman while a teenager. It is not
that
kind of love that we’re talking about here.”

Kris wanted to intervene, to tell her that perhaps it was precisely
that
kind of love she was talking about, but Maria appeared ready to tell her much more and so she did not interrupt.

“It was nine, ten months after his accident. His scars were much worse then. I had not seen him immediately after the crash, when apparently they were jagged, ugly things across his face, but you could still see the marks left by the stitches. Why he never had plastic surgery I don’t know. I think... I think they were an expression of his anger at the world, great red marks that lined his once handsome face.”

As she spoke, their main courses were brought to them. Maria lifted another fork and began to eat in between speaking, and Kris forced a mouthful or two down. She could barely taste the food, however, nor was she listening much to the guitarists behind her tuning their instruments and speaking to the diners at their tables.

“I was young—younger than you are now, though hardly a callow teenager. My services had been called upon by Stone Enterprises. It was a new company—Daniel had formed it not long before his wife’s death, and it nearly folded during the months immediately after the crash, but he was working long and hard, forcing himself to work, work, work.

“I was eager to please, to shine and demonstrate my talents. He noticed that—he noticed, and he
liked
that.” Maria let her fork rest on the plate for a moment and Kris did the same, listening in awful fascination to the story that unfolded.

“I suppose it began as an affair, just like any other. But... but he wanted more. And I wanted more as well. I’d never met anyone like him. Well, that’s not entirely true. I had met many rich and successful people, certainly. Indeed, Daniel was not so wealthy then—respectably so, rather than filthy rich. But the way he
commanded
a situation...” Maria’s voice drifted off for a moment, and her gaze had not alighted anywhere in the room.

At that moment, the two guitarists began to play, one on the twelve-string guitarra, the other accompanying him on a bass, a simple mournful melody that built up until the woman joined in, her voice clear and sad in the restaurant. With a slight surprise, Kris realised that Maria had completely drifted away, carried off by the music she was listening to.

“Very beautiful,” she said, returning her gaze to Kris after a little while. In that instant, Kris saw that the mask had been returned, and that the woman seated across from her was as self-controlled as she had ever been, a film across her eyes that was as effective a guard to her soul as the sunglasses she had worn before.

“Can you understand it? The words?”

Maria shook her head. “No doubt it is something extremely sentimental.” She gave a little smirk. “Such things inevitably are.”

“It’s called
Chuva
, or Rain.” Kris listened for a while and then translated. “There are days that steal our soul and life... and the one that you’ve left me I can’t forget... The rain wet my face... frozen and tired... the streets of the city I’ve already crossed.”

At this, Maria simply nodded. She opened her mouth, as though to say something trite and cynical, but words did not come. Instead, at last, she offered the defensive observation: “As I say, sentimental.”

Recognising the motive for this dismissive comment, Kris felt her anger ebbing away. The wine had eased her, she realised, and also made her bolder, with a curiosity that was still not sated yet.

“How long were you with him?”

Maria shrugged. “Two years, more or less.”

“What happened?”

Applause rippled around the restaurant and both Kris and Maria joined in, politely rather than attentive. “He grew bored, I suppose. We both did, perhaps.” The high, false laugh that Maria gave at that point proved the latter part of her statement a lie, but Kris was sensitive enough not to ask.

“And what was he like?”

Once more Maria gazed over her shoulder, watching the singers as they played another song. She said nothing for what felt like an age though it was probably no more than two minutes. At last she replied: “It was as nothing I’ve ever experienced before, nor since—though I’ve tried. God knows I’ve tried. He took me, completely. He consumed me. I was just a young woman, and though he was not even ten years older than me, there was a...
power
in him that I was unable to resist. But you know what that is like.” Her eyes flickered away from Kris’s down to her plate, and she placed a fork of her food into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

“Yes,” agreed Kris quietly, her voice barely audible over the singer and musicians.

This caused Maria to raise an eyebrow, but this one was not as sardonic nor as dismissive as the gesture had been previously. “He pushed me—very hard, sometimes, harder than I thought I could bear. But I did. Most of it, anyway. The contract protected me... for a while at least. I’m sure he does the same with you.”

Kris shook her head. “There is no contract,” she said.

“No contract?” Maria looked surprised again. “How do you... stop him, when he goes too far? And what guarantee is there for you?”

Kris frowned at this. The questions had shifted, and she had no desire to speak about Daniel sexually with this woman, to reveal her own secrets, and yet she did wish to know about what had happened between Maria and Daniel, even though some of it made her feel sick inside. Taking a mouthful of food, she could barely swallow it and instead gulped down wine instead. To her surprise, she realised that more than half the bottle was gone, and yet Maria seemed to have consumed very little of the alcohol.

“We have a... we have a safe word. That’s enough. Not that I particularly use it.” As she spoke, she could feel herself blushing, embarrassed at how trivial and foolish it sounded, but once more the wine made her bold and she stared directly at Maria who was smirking at her, her old sardonic amusement returned.

“Well, if you say that is enough, who am I to contradict? It sounds as though the master is being topped by the bottom, but if it works for you both...” She shrugged again.

“Wait a minute.” Through the fuzziness of Kris’s memory, words came to the fore. “You said that before. Being topped by the bottom. What does it mean?”

Maria’s expression was exquisite and arch. “I do wonder as to your education, Miss Avelar. You are the bottom, he is the top. He the master, you the slave. You submit to everything he requires, and he dominates you completely—and for that you are handsomely rewarded, no?”

No, thought Kris. It’s not like that. It was, perhaps, for you. But not any more. She felt confused, almost certainly because she had drunk more than she intended, but she could do no more than shake her head. She was not sure whether the expression on Maria’s face was one of sardonicism or disbelief.

“You said there were others. Who... who were they?”

Maria laughed and for a moment did not reply, taking a healthy mouthful of her fish and savouring the taste of it in her mouth. At last she answered: “There were five of them.”

“Five? Daniel slept with five others after you... and before me?”

This made Maria snort. “Slept with? I have no idea how many women Daniel Stone has fucked, though I know it is many, many more than five! No. This is not just sex, these were the five who he made a contract with.” Placing her fork down beside her plate, she began to count them off on the fingers of one hand. Watching her, Kris sipped her wine again in horrified fascination.

“There was an American woman, in her forties. The oldest of the lot, though age doesn’t matter. It is more a question of... personality, as well as impeccable looks and breeding of course. Some women are more beautiful in their sixties than most of the young trollops you see in the street. She worked in corporate banking, and her gift was an emerald bracelet. The second was Haitian, though I think he met her in Miami, another lawyer, though not as gifted as I. She was very beautiful, stunning in fact. She did not last long, though. Three months, but she received a very rare necklace of pearl. The third and fourth were Europeans, Slovenian and a Serb, if I remember correctly. The Slovenian... I think she may have been a teacher of some kind, in a university. Hers was a necklace of garnets, wonderful to see. For the Serb, I can’t remember what she did. I can’t remember if she did anything, but she was very pleased with her gift of fire opals. And the fifth... the fifth was a Japanese woman. That was more successful, I think. Certainly it lasted longer than most of them. Another high flier in finance, and her gift was a very old amethyst and silver pendant, quite a prize.” Maria’s face looked a little bitter as she spoke. “But I am very fond of my ruby.”

“And... how long did... did Daniel remain with these women?” Kris was not sure she wanted to know the answer.

Maria did not answer immediately, but instead looked across the room and applauded as another song ended. Without looking Kris in the eye, she said: “Trying to work out your shelf life? None of them was as long as me. I think two years... two years is too intense for that kind of relationship. What you have to do... it will leave you nothing left if it goes on too long.” She turned her green eyes back towards Kris, fixing them on the younger woman’s face. “My advice is this: take what you can and get out before it consumes you as well.”

Chapter Ten

They spoke for nearly an hour in the restaurant, consuming another bottle of wine between them. As their conversation continued, Maria’s mask appeared to soften and Kris felt a secret sense of exultation inside her. Whatever had happened between this French lawyer and Daniel, it was not the same as now.

When they went outside, Kris’s head was spinning slightly. She stumbled on the pavement but the alcohol had deadened any pains in her legs. Nonetheless, she grabbed hold of the other woman’s arm to support herself and Maria stood patiently beside her. She had a long, dark coat on which covered her naked arms and bare shoulders but also emphasised the sleek and trim flow of her waist and hips. Despite her feelings of triumph, Kris had to admit that Maria was very beautiful. She could well understand how such a woman—confident, slender, tall, successful, stunning in appearance—would be the kind of woman that Daniel Stone would desire. Daniel Stone, yes, but what of Daniel Logan?

“Come,” said Maria very softly, almost whispering in her ear. “You can’t walk like this. Let’s go to the hotel and call Jorge to take you home.”

“It’s okay,” Kris replied, waving her hand and leaning back too far. Rectifying her balance, she fumbled against Maria and felt the warm fabric of her coat, smelled her expensive perfume which, for a second, made her even more drunk. “It’s okay, really. Just a little fresh air. I can get a taxi... a taxi on the main road.”

“Perhaps,” Maria replied. “Though they don’t appear to be as regular at this time of night. If we don’t see one, I’ll get Jorge to pick you up from the hotel.”

“It’s too late for him,” Kris told her a little irritably. “We shouldn’t disturb him.”

Ignoring her irritation, Maria raised a hand very gently to Kris’s face. “Haven’t you learned anything yet? Whatever Daniel wants, he gets. For you, he will want you protected every hour of the day. If we can’t get a taxi, Jorge will be ready to collect you. Believe me.”

As she guided Kris down the hill, the younger woman unsteady in her high heels, Kris could feel the lingering trace from her hand, a touch that prickled her skin in a way that made her feel slightly uneasy. I shouldn’t have drunk so much, she thought to herself.

Beside her Maria was humming one of the Fado songs that they had heard in the restaurant.