The Awakening of Alexandria Page 5

  He’d learned a great deal about Alexandria Mason this morning, learned why she such a solitary soul. Orphaned, misunderstood, misdiagnosed, even punished as a child for a mental brilliance that she’d been too young to understand. Yet, she had found the mental fortitude to flourish at least in her writing. It seemed that social skills, interpersonal skills, and relationships had all been negated for the sole benefit of the written word.

  He opened the door and was instantly assaulted.

  “Nicholas, I’m going crazy. I need something to do!”

  “If…” he started.

  “Please give me my computer!” Allie interrupted but bit down on her lower lip when one eyebrow lifted. “Sorry.”

  “If,” he started again, “you manage to behave as an adult this afternoon during your medical examination, and eat this evening's meal, completely, and two snacks, I will allow you use of your computer for two hours.”

  “Only two?” Allie protested.

  “Two hours,” Nicholas repeated firmly. “Starting tomorrow morning, and your good behavior will be a prerequisite to receiving computer privileges.”

  She whirled around and he was pretty sure he heard her say, “Obnoxious bastard.”

  “Alexandria!”

  She whirled around again. “I agree,” she said quickly.

  Nicholas nodded his head. “All right, but I warn you, my allotment of patience for today has been expended. Do not push me any further or you will not like the outcome.”

  Allie nodded and when the door closed behind him she let out a silent scream with both hands fisted in the air and did a booty hustle dance. Yes! Yes! Yes! She was going to get her computer back.

  Allie made a concerted effort not to let her temper escape that evening. When the doctor came, she answered his questions, with Nicholas acting as interpreter. She didn’t call him a blood-sucking sadistic vampire when he drew three vials of blood—although he was one. She didn’t even swear at him when he gave her a vitamin shot in the rump.

  She ate every bite on her plate, except for the anchovies, which made her cringe. Nicholas had laughed and put them on his plate. She’d only slipped up one time, when she’d sworn at Nicholas for brushing her bottom while helping her to her chair. She was still sore from the shot, and he hadn’t scolded her, so she thought she was safe. He couldn’t hold that against her? Could he?

  Nicholas walked Alexandria out onto the patio after dinner as was their habit to watch the sunset. “Describe the sunset for me,” he whispered in her ear, standing behind her, his arms wrapped her waist.

  Allie thought of the island and the beach they’d been on earlier. A few moments later she spoke. “The sun turned to molten flame spiraling out radiant prisms of color over the calm waves of the sea. Light and reflection off the water’s edge glow in the beauty and warmth of day passing. The final swoosh of a wave on the edge of beach sand, its demise echoing the journey of the sun. There is finality to the end, a near silence, with only soft tendrils of wind fluttering in the palms, sea grasses whispering secrets in a hush of dim. The light is gone.”

  Nicholas laid his cheek down on the blaze of her hair. “Thank you,”

  Then he turned her in his arms and kissed her.

  Chapter 5

  Another shift, Allie thought as she put on beautiful chemise of mint green with lace overlays over the breast cups, crisscross shoulder straps, and a hemline that was slightly shorter in the front than in the back. The barely-there panties were as close to a thong as she ever wanted to wear. It was either wear them or go bottomless and she wouldn’t do that. Most of her chemises were ones she had at the hotel suite. Lately though, new ones were appearing, and she knew without asking that they were handpicked by Nicholas. They were like this one, simple but sexy. One day it was a simple black midriff tee with matching sleep shorts. She knew he was slowly seducing her. The look she caught in his eyes sometimes was smoldering. It was only there if he didn’t think she was watching him. It scared her a little, excited her more.

  Although Allie wrote about romance, she’d never experienced it. She covered the gaps in her personal experience with Internet research and by reading more descriptive writers. So, what? She wrote mystery and spy intrigue but she wasn’t a private eye or an international spy either. She researched what her characters needed her to research.

  Nicholas had set up his work on the bistro table and surreptitiously watched as Alexandria worked. She seemed to read at the speed of light, and her typing skills weren’t far behind. In front of her laptop, she was totally focused on editing a manuscript. Had he known the enticement of her computer would ensure that she ate properly he would have given it back to her sooner. Alexandria had been a model of good behavior with the exception of when he told her that her allotment of time was up. Then a battle of wills erupted until he shut her down with the simple threat of not allowing her access to her computer the next day.

  She was such a conflict of personalities. She was the consummate professional in her writing. A child of a disadvantaged background with an arsenal of foul language that was as malicious as her temper—a fighter. She was also precocious and fragile, so easily broken, so frightened of the world that she’d chosen to veil herself from the public. And she was innocent. He was sure of that. It beguiled him, yet held him back, for he had been raised to be a man of honor. After so many years of conquest, of pillage, of taking what he wanted, he’d forgotten the pleasure of artless innocence, and of seduction.

  She was a child in her pleasures. She loved chocolate, not sophisticated, luxurious, expensive chocolates but a child’s candy bars, and M&M’s. She adored those silly shoes that he had been embarrassed to give her, and she always smiled when he brought them for her to wear. How many small childhood pleasures had she been denied simply because she was different? Enough, he thought that she’d purposefully blocked those tragic scenes from her memory. She seemed to view her history as a story, referring to remembered conversations as dialogue, memories as scenes, and people from her past were character descriptions. Alexandria Mason’s life had been shaped and was defined by her writing. He wanted her to have more. He wanted to give her more.

  Nicholas woke up from his thoughts and then looked at his watch. “Alexandria, you are twenty minutes over your time.”

  “Really?” she said not taking her eyes off the screen.

  “Save,” he commanded. “Now”

  “Just a sec,” she said not slowing down.

  “Now!”

  Two keystrokes and twenty seconds later she powered down. “I was so close to finishing that chapter. It wouldn’t have hurt to work a little longer.”

  Nicholas hid his grin. She was so predictable.

  “You have already worked twenty more minutes than you were allowed. Just because I was distracted, you should not have taken advantage.”

  “I’m the hostage, remember?” Allie sniped.

  “Aw, yes, the bird in the gilded cage,” Nicholas said as he gathered his folders. “I’ll have to remember to torture you after your nap.”

  Alexandria’s half grin indicated that she liked that response, and he could practically see her storing it away for later use in her writing. He unplugged her laptop, added it to his pile of folders, kissed her on the forehead, and left the room, locking the door behind him.

  Allie woke up from a nap, naps she despised taking but did realize were necessary for her recovery. Her eyes widened as she heard a girl’s voice pleading and begging, a man’s voice angry. It wasn’t an inside voice either, this was an outside voice. The voice was coming from below her balcony and although she didn’t understand the language, the cadence was unmistakable. She jumped out of bed and had just stepped out onto the balcony when she heard a smack, and a scream, a wail. She stiffened and ran back to the door of her bedroom, pounding on it frantically.

  “Nicholas! Nicholas! Help!” Allie yelled.

  The door opened within seconds. “What is it? Are you ill?” he demanded.

/>   “No,” Allie exclaimed. “There is a man beating up a girl out there. Stop him!”

  Nicholas ran out onto balcony, listened, leaned slightly over the railing, and backed off. He took Allie’s hand, led her inside, and closed the patio doors.

  “Do something, stop him!” Allie demanded.

  “Hush, Alexandria, she is not in serious danger,” Nicholas soothed.

  “How do you know that? He’s hurting her, she screaming!”

  Nicholas lifted her up and set her on the high bed and sat down beside her and then lay on his back propped up on one elbow. “I know that, because the girl screaming is Larissa and she’s not being beaten. She’s being spanked by Kristofer.”

  “What? You give lessons on beating up women?” Allie exclaimed.

  Nicholas laughed. “No, my bobus- my sweet child".

  I have no need to give lessons. Kristofer is Larissa’s betrothed. They’ve been arguing and disagreeing for about a month or more, now. I believe this might put an end to it.”

  Allie’s eyes sparked with mischief. “You’re gossiping!” She said with utter delight.

  Nicholas laughed again. “I am, indeed. I like to keep abreast of what is happening among my staff.”

  Allie crossed her legs as a boy would, totally guileless of what she was exposing. “Give me the dirt!”

  Nicholas sat up to change his viewpoint. “Kristofer went off the island about a month ago. He was participating in a custom very similar to what is a bachelor’s party in the states. There was a lot drinking, and a lot of bar hopping with his male friends. When Larissa heard about it, she got very angry and jealous and had some angry words with him. Kristofer, being a man, guilty or not, did not like being told off. That was the initial instigation of the argument. Two weeks ago Larissa went off island without Kristofer, and without her parents’ permission.”

  “So what?” Allie asked.

  “This is not America where young people carelessly ignore their parents’ wishes. Here, it is a matter of consequence for a young woman to disobey her parents and her betrothed. It took about a week for the rumors to filter back that Larissa had gone to a bar with a bad reputation with some female friends, of which neither Kristofer nor her parents approve. Apparently, she got very drunk. She was seen dancing, without certain articles of clothing.”

  “Topless?” Allie guessed.

  Nicholas nodded seriously. “Nearly. Our mainland is not as free spirited as perhaps Miami. Behavior like this is considered scandalous. Larissa’s parents are horrified and embarrassed. Kristofer is furious and embarrassed. Greek men do not like to be embarrassed by their wives or girlfriends. It is a matter of pride to be a strong head of your family. I believe we know how Kristofer is reacting to her misbehavior.”

  “He won’t hurt her will he?” Allie whispered, worried.

  “No, he loves her. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t care how she behaved. He does and she needs to understand that what she did was wrong. I don’t believe Larissa’s biggest worry is getting a spanking from Kristofer no matter how severe he is with her. But when her mother and father catch up with her, there will be major consequences.”

  “You care very much for your people here,” Allie said. “Are you some kind of big brother overseer or benevolent uncle to them?”

  Nicholas smiled and shook his head. “Neither, but I do care. I like to be kept informed of what is going on without interfering in their lives.”

  “You interfered with mine,” Allie protested.

  “Your life and your health were out of control, so yes, I did interfere. You, my Alexandria, are entirely different. Now that you’ve rested, I suggest you have a relaxing afternoon, I have some work to do.”

  Allie watched as he left the room, heard the click of the door lock. She was trying to understand Nicholas but it was hard. He gave very little away about himself. With a sigh, she picked a book up to read. She wanted more computer time, but she knew he wouldn’t grant it yet. She was settling into a pattern whether she liked it or not. Constant rest and relaxation wasn’t her normal but then, nothing about the present situation was normal.

  * * * * *

  Nicholas spent the better part of afternoon and evening on business. Time had gotten away from him, as it often did since he truly loved the hunt for properties available for acquisition and the challenge of making the deal. When he finally became aware of what time it was, thought he’d better check in on his charge.

  He gave a light knock of warning and opened her door. He realized immediately that Alexandria was in some kind of distress. She was pacing and agitated, taking breaths in short heaves. He moved to her quickly but it was as if she didn’t see him. He touched her arm. “Alexandria, what’s wrong?”

  “Wrong? Nothing is wrong they’re coming. I have to get ready, they’re coming.”

  “Who is coming?” Nicholas asked.

  “I told you!” Allie snapped sharply. “I told you. I need my computer. I have to have it, now. Now!”

  “Alexandria, calm down.”

  Allie gripped him by the front of his shirt. “Play your games later, Nicholas! This is who I am. This is what I am. I must write! Give me my goddamned computer!”

  Nicholas stared into her defiant eyes for a moment, nodded and left to get it. He returned and plugged it in. “What else do you need?”

  Allie was pacing again. “Post-its, pens, pads of paper. Hurry, they’re coming.”

  Nicholas went to the hallway and called downstairs to housekeeping to bring up some office supplies. He needed to stay with her. He needed to see this through with her. He needed to see how she worked, see this thing she called the process and try to understand why she was working herself to death.

  Allie placed the Post-it notes, pens, and pads of paper in an order she understood. She watched Nicholas leave the room and he left the door open for the first time in weeks. She didn’t care. She didn’t have time to try to escape. She turned on the computer, and opened a template that she always kept prepared.

  They were coming.

  By the time he returned, Allie was already typing furiously. She talked to herself, naming off characters and typing into a page named appropriately enough Character Profiles. The page seemed to be built as a flow chart or family tree, connecting characters, places, actions, and timelines. The character profiles were built with detailed descriptions, interconnections, sexual preferences, even favorite foods and drink. All the while she was doing this, she would jot down notes on the Post-its and slap them somewhere on the edge of the computer or the tabletop. There seemed to be some kind of organization that only she could comprehend. She never took her eyes off the computer screen.

  Two hours into this process, she stood up and walked around the room. She seemed to be in some kind of internal thought process. She sat back down, and before she could put her hands on the keyboard, Nicholas handed her a bottle of juice. She looked up, actually surprised that he was there and shook her head.

  “If you don’t eat or drink, I’ll shut you down,” Nicholas promised with a real threat in his voice.

  She nodded absently, took the bottle, and drank a third of it, then set it away from her working area. She went back to typing.

  Nicholas observed. When she said they came, she meant it. There was no hesitation or second-guessing. She simply wrote. She was probably typing at sixty or seventy words a minute and that was raw output coming directly from her brain. Occasionally, she would stop, take her hand off the keyboard and write a disjointed piece of dialog or a note about plot on a pad of paper, but the interruption only took a few seconds and she was back to typing. Other times she would stop, search for a Post-it note only to toss it into growing pile of discarded pieces once she’d found it.

  An hour later, Nicholas remembered that she hadn’t eaten dinner. He called down to housekeeping and ordered another cart sent up. When it arrived, she ignored the disruption. She ignored him. Nicholas realized if he didn’t want his eyes clawed out, he’d bette
r not interrupt her. He picked up a plate and pulled a chair over beside her and moved a forkful of meat into her mouth. He didn’t think she saw it. He touched her lips and she startled.

  “You don’t have to stop this time, but you have to eat. Just open your mouth and chew,” he commanded.

  She did. He fed her as a baby bird, prodding her mouth, and she’d open, chew, and swallow. He didn’t think she had any idea of what she was eating nor did she care. That worked, so he prodded her to drink with straws and she did.

  As the hours ticked by, she never faltered on the keyboard and he began to worry.

  Late into the night, Nicholas had seen enough. He went over to her and pulled her away from the keyboard and he had a fight on his hands. She became enraged and began fight him. She didn’t seem to understand why he was trying to stop her. After struggling with her for a few minutes, he became concerned she would hurt herself. Giving her a hard swat across her bottom to get her attention, he picked her up, and carried her over to the bed and held her down in place.

  “Alexandria, stop! If you don’t rest, if you don’t sleep, it’s over. I will not allow you to continue!” Nicholas warned.

  With frantic eyes, she began to weep, and he pulled her tighter into his embrace and held on. Within a few minutes, she was asleep.

  The second day was a repeat of the first. She was up before him already at work. Nicholas had to physically move her to the table to make her eat. He feared that any progress they’d made in rebuilding her health would be lost because she could not be stopped. Getting her to sleep was a repeat of the night before.

  Day after day, the frenzy of writing continued as Alexandria wrote and Nicholas struggled to help her. He continued to worry and considered, but rejected, the idea of forcing her to quit. This was how she worked. This was what she called her process, and he needed to understand it.