The British Knight

“You and Violet seem to be quite different.”

“You know what they say about opposites,” I replied. “And we have plenty in common—neither of us suffer fools gladly, and she’s not afraid of speaking her mind. We complement each other in lots of ways,” I said, passing the plate to Violet, who was busy talking to Darcy.

“Complement each other?” Scarlett asked, handing me another bowl of something. “Candied yams,” she explained as I spooned out a small amount onto my plate.

I nodded. “Yes. Violet doesn’t like to plan and I’m so busy—it works quite well for us. And . . .” Our picnic lunch replayed in my mind. She knew I was busy. But she also knew I could extricate myself from my work for an hour. “You know, she challenges me—shows me how life can be different.”

My world had been broadened with Violet in it—not least because I spent time with her but also because she had me trying new restaurants, taking picnics in November, and going to museums in my lunchtimes.

“She’s helped me to seize the day a little more.” Unexpectedly, Violet had made small changes in my life, cracked open my narrow view on the world, which meant I was enjoying each day more and more.

Scarlett smiled. “Spontaneity really is Violet’s best quality.”

“One of many,” I replied.

My responses seemed to placate Scarlett, and we fell into casual conversation about her business and her life spent between Connecticut and England.

“I hear you’ve given up waitressing,” Ryder said to Violet. “How’s office life?”

“Different,” Violet replied. “I like it though. I enjoy solving problems and sorting out issues.”

“She’s very good at it,” I interjected. “Too good really. Way overqualified.”

“What do you think you’ll end up doing when you come back to New York?” Ryder asked.

Violet laughed. “You know me, Ryder, I don’t think past the end of the week. I have no idea.”

“You still thinking about Columbia?” Scarlett asked Violet, while spooning potatoes onto her plate.

I turned my head to see Violet’s reaction. Columbia University?

She shrugged. “I have no idea. Maybe. I’ve filled out the application. They might not take me.”

“I think going back to school would be an amazing thing for you,” Scarlett said. “You have this big brain that you haven’t used in so long.”

Back to school?

I racked my mind, trying to think back about whether Violet had ever mentioned anything about getting another qualification. That was a huge piece of news. Why hadn’t Violet said anything? Clearly, she was thinking about her future more than she’d ever disclosed to me. And she saw her future in New York at Columbia University. That was a positive step. I would hate to see her talent wasted doing any more waitressing or frankly any more administration. She should be doing something else with her ability. I was happy for her.

But hearing it stung slightly. More than it should have. More than I would have ever thought it would. Because Columbia University was three thousand miles away and her applying there was evidence that none of her plans for the future involved me.

I thought about my future all the time, but only ever in terms of my career. I carefully considered the work I aspired to do and how it would impact my desire to take silk early. I spoke to Craig and Lance about my career path and what I could do to step things up. I was constantly looking toward the horizon.

But when I saw myself in the future—the man with a career to rival my father’s—the best at the bar, was all I saw. I didn’t see a home or a wife or children. I never thought about the places I’d visited or the experiences I had—it was all about work. If I looked even two months ahead, Violet’s contract would be up, and then what? Would my expanded world suddenly shrink? Would it become smaller in her absence? Less interesting. Almost certainly. But of course Violet had to consider her future, and I should be happy about that. But would I be sad if she disappeared from my life? If she wasn’t in my future?

I realized I would, but there was nothing I could do.





Violet


“Who’d have thought you could be so charming?” I asked Alexander as I lay sprawled across the bed as he undid his tie.

“Who’d have thought you could be so sexy?” he replied as he came toward me. “This dress should be illegal.” He smoothed his fingers over my cleavage and starting on my buttons.

“You bought it for me.”

“Because I knew you’d look incredible.”

My dress open, he abandoned me and began to undo his own shirt.

“Why do you have everyone call you Alex?” I’d never noticed it before, but whenever people called him Alexander, he asked them to call him Alex.

He smirked as he discarded his shirt and began to take off his pants. “That’s my name.”

“Very funny. I call you Alexander and you’ve never asked me to call you Alex.”

“I know. I’ve never liked it. It was always the name I associated with my father.”

“But you don’t mind me calling you it?”

He shook his head as he stood completely naked in front of me. I squeezed my thighs together at the sight of him—his strong thighs and perfect cock. I knew what happened next, knew how he’d feel inside me. I shivered as an ache for him grew in my stomach.

“I like it when it comes from your mouth.” He crawled over me and began to peel off my dress. “What I don’t like is you keeping things from me.” He lay beside me.

I frowned, unsure of what he meant. Before I had a chance to ask him, he’d moved my underwear to one side and shoved two fingers inside me.

I gasped at the unexpected action.

“I don’t like being caught off guard like that.” His thumb slid over my clit and he began to pump his fingers in and out of me. “So you don’t get my cock. Not for this first orgasm.”

He was denying me his dick because I hadn’t told him about . . . what, exactly?

I grabbed at his wrist, trying to stop his relentless, driving rhythm. “What did I keep from you?” I asked, trying to beat back the waves of pleasure that were travelling up my body.

“Columbia, going back to university.”

I let out a groan as my orgasm began to build.

“You see how easily I turn you on?”

I closed my eyes, unable to speak, reveling in his hard, rough fingers between my legs as pulses of pleasure scattered under my skin.

“You want to come so quickly.”

My whole body was throbbing within seconds of him touching me.

Without warning he removed his hand and moved away from me. My eyes flew open.

I’d been a second away from my climax. What was he doing? “Alexander. What . . .”

“You don’t keep things from me.” His face was dark and serious.

I’d had no idea he’d want to know. Why did he care what I did when I left London?

“I’m sorry,” I said, smoothing my palm down his cheek.

He skirted his hand down my belly and across my pussy, pressing his fingers inside me more gently this time.