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“Good Morning, Dr Lecter. Your coffee is on your desk, I thought an Italian roast suited this morning.” I say as he enters the room. As usual he looks immaculate in a dark green three piece suit, his hair combed meticulously and his black leather shoes shining softly in the light of the new day.
“Thank you, Miss Grace.” He replies, sweeping past to the door of his office.
“Your first appointment is in half an hour and here is your mail.” I continue rising to hand him the neat pile of envelopes. He turns and takes it from me, careful to brush my fingers lightly. Our eyes meet briefly, there’s a moment when we’re caught there. It’s like catching the eye of a predator, you know if you move it may attack. That it may devour you. You’re unsure if you should stay still or run.
He turns away and enters his office, closing the door softly behind him.
Its been a month since the glass fell away between us. Since we broke down that barrier. We haven’t spoken much. Its almost like it never happened, as if he never held a knife to my throat, as if I never found his secret, as if he never made me cry out his name in ecstasy.
That day he told me the rules. He lay above me on his bed with a blade against my skin and told me with a smile what was going to happen.
Not long after he’s closed the door his first patient for the day arrives. Anthony Rothchild. He struts into the reception area with a grin plastered across his face.
“Good Morning, Paula!” His voice is weaker than he thinks it is, more of a whining cadance. Though I’m sure he thinks its charming. Its not.
He leans over my desk to snag my hand, this time I’m fast enough to tuck it under the worktop before he can touch me. Nothing in his outward appearance should be so revolting. He’s tall, boyishly handsome, with well groomed brown hair and wide blue eyes. I think of him like a venus fly trap.
That's why he’s here, he’s trapped a lot of women. His father (who pays for everything) wants his womanizing stopped.
He always turns up early for his appointments and simpers at me. He’s accustomed to rejection and seems to have decided that I’m a challenge as opposed to simply uninterested.
“Good Morning, Mr Rothchild. You’re a little early, shall I see if Dr Lecter can see you sooner?” I ask the same question I always ask. I know I’ll get the same reply.
“No need! I’m happy to wait here with you. No better way to start my day than with a beautiful woman.” He sits on one of the chairs opposite me and drapes his arms over the ones on either side. I have to offer him a drink, which means I will have to rise from my defensive position behind my desk.
“Would you like a drink at all, Mr Rothchild?” I smile even though I don’t want to. I’m not paid to be rude to patients.
“Tea, please.” He replies.
I rise and walk out to the small kitchenette next door. I feel his eyes on me, my work clothes are not what could be called sexy but I’m sure he’d eye me up no matter what I was wearing.
I remember how he likes it and return with the steaming cup in short order.
Hiding from him would do no good. I tried it once and he came to find me. I’d rather he stay where I can see him.
Back behind my desk he begins to talk at me. He tells me about his exploits, clubs and gatherings, things he’s bought, even women he’s likely bedded. He doesn’t take his eyes off me the entire time. He. Just. Keeps. Talking.
Eventually it’s time to show him into the office and I rise to open the door. This is the part I hate most as he always finds an excuse to touch me as he passes.
I lean into the office.
“Dr Lecter, are you ready for your first patient?” I ask and he rises from his desk, genturing me to let Mr Rothchild in. I turn and he’s right there, too close. I hide my reaction and gesture for him to enter. His hand runs over my arm as he passes, a look of victory on his face. I shudder when he can’t see me anymore.
Closing the door feels like a relief and I go to wash my hands. An impulse.
I don’t have to see him again as patients usually leave via the rear exit.
An hour or so later Dr Lecter opens his door and steps out. I barely look up, expecting him to pass by on the way to the restroom.
“Miss Grace, am I right that there’s an hour until my next appointment?” He asks and I look up. There’s something unreadable in his face.
“Yes, an hour at least.” I reply and he gestures for me to follow him back into the office. I pick up my leather bound diary and follow.
I haven’t spent a lot of time in his office but I always appreciate it. The large space with mezzanine library is well decorated and dotted with antiques.
Dr Lecter sits in the chair he uses when speaking to clients and I sit in the one for patients. I sit as demurely as I can, pen at the ready.
“Am I right by saying Mr Rothchild disgusts you?” He begins, his face is serene. I open my mouth to deny it but catch his eye.
The commandments of Dr Hannibal Lecter are as simple as those in the old testament. The first is simple: Thou shall not lie to Dr Hannibal Lecter.
“Yes, I’m afraid I find him distasteful.” I admit. He seems pleased by my admission. The corner of his mouth twitches minutely.
“Why is that?” He crosses his legs and rests his hands on his leg.
“He uses women. He wants my attention because he thinks it gives him power over me. To him I’m little more than tits and ass.” I answer simply, I dislike being crass but it’s the simplest way of articulating the truth.
“What if I were to tell you that he is in fact a sympathetic creature? Abused and broken, seeking affection where he can. Would you still find him revolting?” He is amused.
“No, in fact I would find him more revolting.” I stand and turn to leave. “It is one thing to be an awful person, another to excuse it somehow. We have a choice.” I explain and start to go.
He raises a hand and I halt.
“I didn't mean to upset you. I saw your reaction to him earlier and was curious. Would you have prefered if I had been the one to touch you? Even uninvited?” He asks and I pause to think. He allows this.
“Yes and no. In part I would prefer the attentions of someone more… palatable, however any unsolicited touching is discomforting.” He waves his hand for me to come closer. I stand in front of him and feel a little like a schoolgirl being reprimanded.
“So you find me more palatable than Mr Rothchild?” He asks cooly, however I’ve known him for so long I can see the glint of amusement in his eye. “I won’t deny that pleases me, I’m not beyond vanity.”
“It’s good to admit our faults.” I reply and a hint of a smile perks one corner of his lips.
“However I remember distinctly that our previous contact was very much unsolicited. If memory serves you enjoyed that greatly.” His eyes are dark, I sometimes fancy I can see red sparks flying in them. They seem to dance now.
“Adrenaline is a significant aphrodisiac, Dr Lecter. If you are convinced you are about to die, you may as well enjoy what time you have left.” I reply and the small hint turns into a full smile. I suppress a small shiver.
“Just so, Miss Grace. That will be all.” He dismisses me, still smiling.
It takes nearly half an hour for me to slow my heartbeat.
The next day, once again, its as if nothing intimate had ever occurred between us. He only has morning appointments today as there is a function this evening. The chair of the Philharmonic Society is throwing a party to celebrate her 60th birthday. I of course must attend as Dr Lecter’s aid.
“Miss Grace, may I ask what you will be wearing this evening?” Dr Lecter has appeared in the doorway of his office as I am packing to leave.
“You remember that floor length silk gown in the window of Galloways?” I reply.
“The deep green one?” I nod. “Good. I will pick you up at six.” He turns and retreats into his office.
I’m a little taken aback as he hadn’t mentioned picking me up but choose not to argue.
At home I shower and eat before dressing. I put on some nice black underwear but forgo the matching bra. The dress is long, simple and drapes beautifully. It is backless and without heels on it would drag on the floor. I add some teardrop earrings after debating between emerald or diamond for a moment. I leave my hair down and put on simple make up. This dress needs little addition.
I pull on my jacket and tuck my diary into a pocket before heading downstairs. I step outside just as Dr Lecter pulls up. He climbs out to greet me properly. He is dressed impeccably in a custom made suit that shines in the low light.
“Let me see.” He orders and I slip off the jacket to show him. “Lovely.” He replies and climbs back into the car.
Its lucky I have practice climbing in and out of cars in skirts as maneuvering in the dress is a little difficult. I’m happy to admit I’ve dressed for him.
The party is in the home of Madaline DeLance, head of the Philharmonic Society. It’s a beautiful building, almost antebellum. I would love to see it without so many people.
As usual I stand behind Dr Lecter with my diary at the ready. I picked out a diamond bracelet for his gift to Ms DeLance and she receives it happily. I watch her eyes drag over him carefully. She’s been a widow for over a year, I’m oddly disturbed by her avarice. She catches me looking and I share what I hope is a friendly conspiratorial smile with her.
He allows her to wrap her arm around his waist and I have to take a breath.
I follow the pair all evening. Many young men approach me in this time. I am friendly and receptive but often after finding out I am simply Dr Lecter’s aid they become disinterested. I am without pedigree, a lone mutt amongst blue ribbon champions.
I was once a debutante of sorts. Those days passed on when my parents did. By now I should be married to a young dandy not unlike the distasteful Mr Rothchild, and yet here I stood in my beautiful dress with no ring and no husband.
Would a woman like Ms DeLance continue her association with Dr Lecter if she knew what he was? Hard to tell but I doubted it.
“Ah yet another Harvard snob sets his sights on an easier target.” A familiar voice at my side. A young man, I forget his name, had just excused himself. I turned to meet the smile of a colleague of Dr Lecter who now ran the local sanitarium.
“Good Evening, Dr Chilton.” I say and he scoops up one of my hands to kiss dramatically.
“Miss Grace. May I say you look ravishing this evening?” I couldn’t help but smile at that. He was an odd soul, prone to theatrics, but still somewhat attractive though he was at least ten years my senior.
“Thank you, Dr Chilton.” I say as he tucks my hand into the crook of his arm and leads me to the refreshment table. “I didn’t know you were a member of the Philharmonic.”
“I’m not. I here with a friend. He’s having a whale of a time over there somewhere. I, however was getting rather bored.” He waved his free hand around as he spoke. “I was about to make my escape when I saw you. Hannibal still putting on airs?” I tapped Dr Chilton on the arm playfully.
“Dr Chilton! I’d never speak ill of Dr Lecter!” I say with a smile, he returns it warmly.
“Of course not. Please call me Fredrick.” He replies handing me a crystal glass of punch. I take it willingly.
“Fredrick.” I repeat and he grins. “No love for the elite?”
“No, much like you I occasionally have to dip my toe in that particular pond but find it tedious. Full of people obsessed with their bloodlines and how it makes them better. Like that young man.” He nods at one of the men who had flirted with me earlier.
“I think his name was James.” I say, the young man in question spots me looking and I smile at him. He raises his glass at me and I reciprocate.
“Yes, James. He’s likely from money and dear Mummy wouldn’t want him to date a receptionist. Even one working for our dear Hannibal. She would think you were only after his money.” He sighs as I narrow my eyes at him.
“Why Fredrick, perhaps I am only after his money.” I say playfully and he laughs loudly. Over his shoulder I see Dr Lecter turn at the sound and see me talking with Dr Chilton. For a second our eyes meet. I can imagine sparks flying to the centre of his dark eyes. Unreadable, inscrutable as ever. It feels oddly illicit to be speaking to Dr Chilton, Fredrick, this way.
“Why you minx!” Dr Chilton exclaims. “If I can tear you away from your quest for riches, perhaps I could take you to dinner?” I blush and dip my head. “I’m sorry, have I overstepped?” He gently touches my forearm.
“That would be lovely, Fredrick. Next Friday?” I say, forcing myself to look up. He looks jubilant.
“Definitely.” He doesn’t see Dr Lecter approach.
“Excuse me, Fredrick.” He says and Dr Chilton turns aside. “Miss Grace, I won’t be needing you for the rest of the evening. You may go, can you get a taxi?” His eyes are colder than usual
“Oh! Of course, thank you, Dr Lecter. Have a good time.” I say and turn away, confused. He’s never dismissed me during an event before. In the corner of my eye I see him return to the hostess who twines her arm around his possessively.
I make my way through the crowd and retrieve my jacket, Dr Chilton catches me as
I reach the front door and pull out my phone to call a cab.
“Miss Grace! I’m glad I caught you. Would you permit me to drive you home?” He asks and I blush again.
“Please call me Paula, and yes that would be great.” I say and he takes my arm.
He drives a well kept but plain sedan and we chat easily all the while as he drives. He’s easy company, by the time we reach my building I’ve forgotten the coldness of Dr Lecter. We’ve set a time for him to collect me and he’s decided to keep the restaurant a surprise. He kisses my hand again as we say our goodbyes.
I blush all the way up to my apartment.
I kick off my shoes and take off my earrings, I’d forgotten that they pinch terribly, and poured myself a glass of wine. It was only eleven thirty and I’d decided to watch one of my favorite TV shows and perhaps have a bath before going to bed.
I only wonder once if Dr Lecter has spent the night with Ms DeLance.
My weekend passes without note. I send the dress to the dry cleaners, I read and catch up with friends. I even have my nails done.
On monday morning I arrive in a new peach coloured sleeveless blouse and grey slacks. I let myself in and hang up my coat as normal.
“Miss Grace. Will you join me for a moment?” He calls from upstairs. I swallow and take a moment to stow my bag at my desk before climbing up the stairs. I have only been up here once before. I try to wrack my brain for anything I could have done to upset my employer. I can’t think of anything.
“Dr Lecter?” I ask as I cross the landing. “Where are you?”
“The bedroom.” I step inside, the luxurious dark wood shines in the light from the windows. The bed is rumbled, has he only just woken up?
“What can I do for you?” I ask, doing my best to keep the panic out of my voice.
He’s half dressed in front of a full length mirror, even shirtless he exudes quiet power.
“I have been informed that you are to go on a date with that insufferable fool, Chilton. Is that correct?”
“Yes.” I don’t hesitate.
“Have you discussed me with him at all?”
“Only in passing.” I admit.
“Would you do so?”
“No.”
“Are you going to bed him?” I look in his eyes, theres no jealousy there. Some small part of me is disappointed.
“Unlikely.” I reply. He seems to relax. I realise this was simply a warning. “May I ask a question?”
“You may.” He shrugs on a snowy white shirt and begins to button it.
“Am I to understand you spent the night with the unaccountably boring, Ms DeLace?” His eyebrow raises at my question. I know he’s considering not answering me.
“Yes.” He admits.
“Did you discuss me with her at all?” I’m parroting back at him.
“No.” His reply is quick.
“Would you?”
“No.” I take a deep breath.
“Will you continue to bed her?” I don’t want to look in his face as he considers this.
“Yes.” It hurts, but only a little.
“Then we have nothing further to discuss. Please excuse me.” I turn and leave, he doesn’t call after me.
I walk out with my head high.
At the bottom of the stairs I noticed the door to the reception is already open, I was sure I closed it. There was light coming from the room, I certainly hadn’t opened the curtains yet.
As I approach I see the biggest bouquet of roses I’ve ever seen on the desk. Next to it is a velvet jewelry box and a huge bottle of champagne.
Steeling myself I push open the door.
“Mr Rothchild.” I say to the grinning face that greets me. He’s in a tuxedo, his hair is slicked back. He looks like he belongs on the cover of a magazine.
“Paula! I was just about to go looking for you!” He leaps forward and wraps an arm around my waist to hustle me forwards. “These are for you!” He declares and grabs the jewelry box. Inside is a diamond tennis bracelet that must cost more than all my own jewelry put together.
The champagne is Dom Perignon and the roses have been delicately gilded.
“Mr Rothchild-” I begin, unsure how to proceed. I wanted to kick myself. I must have left the front door open.
“Anthony! Please!” He interupts.
“Mr Rothchild- I’m flattered but-” I begin but he spins me round to look at him. He has a sly look to him.
“Oh come on now! I can treat you better than the old shrink!” He declares, grasping my arms firmly. “Come with me, I bet you’re sick of him feeling you up anyway.” I try to step away.
“Excuse me! Dr Lecter does nothing of the sort!” I snap.
“Oh yeah? I bet he’s got you taking it every which way. Asked him outright the other day. He denied it but I can smell a lie.” He touches his nose then grabs my arms again, this time I’m sure I’ll have bruises. “I know I’m a better kisser than that old bastard. Come here!” He drags me towards him and I struggle to get away from him.
“Mr Rothchild, I will have to ask you to unhand Miss Grace this instant.” The chill radiating from Dr Lecter is frightening even though it is not aimed at me.
I can see him over Rothchild’s shoulder, he is fully dressed, as immaculate as always and he stands with his hands behind his back as he would usually greet a patient but his face is stone.
“Oh buzz off!” Rothchild snaps. “Can’t you see we’re having a private conversation, aren’t we Paula?” He smirks at me.
“Let go.” I reply and his smile changes, there’s no warmth there now. His grip on my arms gets tighter, it hurts and I hiss with the pain.
“Mr Rothchild, if you do not release her and leave immediately I will be forced to call the authorities.” Dr Lecter threatens, his eyebrow quirks as Rothchild scoffs at him. “I will also inform your father of this incident.” That took the wind out of him. The colour drains from my assailants face.
“You wouldn’t.” He groans and lets go of me. I scamper away, keen to put some distance between us.
“I would. You are no longer a patient here, I will complete the paperwork transferring you to another doctor. Now leave before more damage is done.” He orders.
Rothchild scoops up his unwanted gifts and shuffles out, muttering curses and impotant threats under his breath.
I breathe a sigh of relief when I hear the door slam behind him. I lean on my desk and put a hand up to my forehead, closing my eyes.
“Are you alright?” Dr Lecter asks, I open my eyes to find him directly in front of me, still a professional distance from me. I turn my arms this way and that. There are several fingertip sized bruises on my upper arms but otherwise I’m okay.
“Yes, thank you Dr Lecter. I appreciate you coming to help me.” I smile weakly at him.
“May I?” he motions to inspect my arm and I nod. He takes my hand and runs his fingers over the bruises, inspecting them carefully. “You’re shaking.” He notes offhandedly and of course he’s right. I’m quaking and I feel a little colder than I should.
He steps back and opens his office door, motioning for me to come with him.
“It’s only a little shock.” I say as I follow him over to his desk. “I should be fine in a moment.”
He turns and regards me carefully. I stop and wait, my arms wrapped reflexively around myself.
“Are you able to continue your duties today?” He asks and I nod, oddly unable to meet his eyes.
“Yes, I should be fine.” I reassure him. The shaking has already begun to subside and I know my heart is slowing back to its normal speed.
“It seems you were wrong.” He says casually as he walks around his desk to sit behind it.
“I’m sorry, what was I wrong about?” I’m confused, my brow knits as he leans his elbows on the desk and laces his fingers.
“Adrenaline. You are literally quaking with its effects, ready to fight or flee. You previously said it was an aphrodisiac.” His eyebrows querk, he’s studying me.
I know my face is flushed but not with embarrassment, I’m angry. I’m unsure entirely why but I feel furious at his unfeeling study of my reactions to such an awful event. I have no doubt that Mr Rothchild would have attempted to force himself on me had Dr Lecter not intervened. I can scarcely think of something worse and yet my erstwhile savior sits and regards me as if this was an experiment to see how I would react.
I want to stomp, pout, yell. Anything to express my fury but I know the futility of it. The man before me would either think my impotant rage amusing or uncouth. I take a deep breath and unwrap my arms.
“Yes it would appear I was incorrect. I will arrange to have Mr Rothchild transferred to another doctor. Please, excuse me.” I say curtly and turn on my heel to walk out, willing myself not to stomp or slam the door.
The rest of the day rolls on as it should, I report Mr Rothchild’s indescredition to the medical board and request the transfer. Dr Lecter’s other patients are prompt and polite.
At five that evening Dr Lecter emerges from his office and informs me his last patient has left. I thank him cooly and begin to pack my things.
“Miss Grace, have I offended you?” He asks as I finish putting my things away and shutting down the computer.
“No, sir. It’s just been a long day.” I reply without looking at him. “Goodnight.” I say as I go to walk past him out the door.
He grabs my arm firmly and I look up at him. His face is impassive but o know i cannot break his hold. He is uncommonly strong.
“Miss Grace, I would thank you to remember the rules of this workplace. Do not lie to me.” His words are leaden.
“I was upset at your treatment of me earlier, just a little upset after a nasty event. Nothing to bother with.” I say and pull gently against his grip.
“My treatment of you? Would you prefer I coddle you? People like Mr Rothchild are a reality, especially in this profession.” His grip does not lessen.
“I understand that.” I pull a little harder and his fingers tighten, not so much that it hurts just a warning.
“Perhaps you wished for me to comfort you? To kiss your wounds and make you feel better.” He’s jabbing at me now, trying to get a reaction. Still studying me.
“No, Dr Lecter. Please let me go.” I look up at his spark filled eyes but there’s no pity there.
“Or did you wish me to leap to your defence? Your knight in shining armour. Did you want me to hurt Mr Rothchild?” His eyes are dark now.
“No, Dr Lecter. Let go.” I pull against him again but his grip does not lessen. “I said, let go.” I snap. I should fear this man, after all I know what he’s capable of, and yet at that moment I would have rather faced him as a killer than this stone faced study.
I pull harder and he drags me closer. Something in my mind snaps and I lash out, a single slap across his face with my free hand and he releases me. I stumble back and pick up my bag before turning my back and grabbing my coat.
“Goodnight, Dr Lecter. I will see you in the morning.” I say to him as he stares after me.
“Goodnight, Miss Grace.” He replies.
I drive home quickly and lock myself in my apartment. Once inside my closet I realise the enormity of my actions and begin shaking again. I sit on the floor in the neatly organised space and hug myself.
The second commandment: Thou shalt not harm Dr Hannibal Lecter.
The next day I turn up for work having not slept. I’ve done my best with my makeup and chosen a demure pale green tailored dress to wear.
I let myself in and brew the coffee.
As I settle behind my desk I see a familiar figure heading for the front door. Ms DeLace, looking rumpled but content in a roll necked sweater and designer jeans.
She spots me and wanders over to greet me.
“Oh, Miss Grace! Good Morning, Hannibal told me what happened yesterday!” She greets and I force myself to smile at her. The dress I’m wearing has long sleeves to cover the darkening bruises on my arms.
“Yes, a difficult situation.” I reply.
We pass a few pleasantries and I obligingly call her a taxi before she heads out. As she’s leaving I notice Dr Lecter in the hallway regarding me. He’d been watching me talk to her, gauging my reaction. What was he looking for? Jealousy? Anger?
The previous night I’d decided to withdraw from engaging with him any further. I distance myself emotionally and as long as I did his he would have no reason to hurt me.
“Good Morning, Dr Lecter. Your coffee is on your desk, your first appointment is due in thirty minutes.” I say and rise to hand him his post.
He enters, his eyes latching on to me, reading my body language. I kept my eyes focused on a spot a little over his head and held out the small stack of envelopes.
“Thank you, Miss Grace.” He replies and takes them. There is no careful brushing of fingertips, no predatory looks.
When his office door closes I breathe a sigh of relief.
Tuesday and Wednesday run smoothly. I barely have to speak to my employer. By Thursday we’re back to our old routine.
On friday morning there’s a call from the police. Mr Rothchild is missing. I give them my account of what happened on monday. They ask to speak to Dr Lecter. I transfer the call.
He exits the office a little later to confirm what I’d told them. Of course there was no reason for the police to suspect anything.
There was nothing to suspect.
I kept repeating that to myself for the remainder of the day.
The third commandment: Thou shalt not ask Dr Hannibal Lecter anything relating to his personal work.
On Friday I’m given leave to go home early to prepare for my date with Dr Chilton. Dr Lecter seems amused by our association but I do not rise to this.
I wear a deep burgundy silk blouse and black tailored trousers. My lipstick and my shoes match the blouse and tiny rubies glitter in my ears. I keep my hair down.
He picks me up and takes me to a lovely itailan restaurant. We talk and laugh about silly things. He tells me about his family, his work and I tell him about my family but skim around my work.
After dinner we walk a little and he slips his hand in mine, I don’t remove my hand.
He takes me home and asks me to go out again. I agree and his smile warms me. I let him kiss me lightly as we say goodbye.
For a brief moment it was nice to just be a woman out on a date with a nice man. Simple, easy, no worries.
My smile lasts until I open the door to my apartment.
Dr Lecter has been there.
One of my dresses has been laid out on the bed, sleeveless long black velvet. Matching shoes are on the floor and jewelry on the bedside table. He’s even picked out the perfume.
The note he left along with a chilled bottle of my favorite wine tells me to wear the outfit and come to his for seven the next evening.
I think about running.
The fourth commandment: Thou shalt not deny Dr Hannibal Lecter
Of going to the police.
The final commandment: Thou shalt not speak to others of the personal work of Dr Hannibal Lecter.
The wine was gone within an hour.
The next day I spent a long time in the bath. I shaved my legs till they were silky, I read a favorite book and deep condition my hair.
I eat my favorite foods ad watch my favorite shows. I’m saying goodbye.
I wear the dress and the shoes but pick my own jewelry, a final defiance. My makeup is immaculate and my hair is pinned up in an elaborate style. The dress is held up by a corset style bust and the skirt flares over my hips to drape beautifully to the floor. I chose an emerald choker and matching earrings.
I call a taxi and ride over to his house, the driver compliments my perfume. I tip him $20.
Rather than let myself in I choose to knock. I’ve left everything but my apartment key and a few loose bills at home.
He answers with a shrewd smile and invites me in. He compliments my dress and I comment on how he is in fact complimenting himself. I received a small chuckle as my prize.
He leads me to his dining room.
I’m not surprised that we’re having dinner.
I’m not surprised that I’m not the only guest.
I’m not surprised who the other guest is.
I’m not surprised that he appears to have been sedated and is restrained to the wheelchair he’s sitting in.
“Good evening, Mr Rothchild.”
“Hello!” He replies heartily, his eyes are wild and his smile lopsided. “Wow! When you said you had a guest coming, doc, I didn’t know she would be so hot!” He nearly shouts.
“Say thank you for the compliment, Miss Grace.” Dr Lecter says softly, amusement in his voice. He’s put his hand on my back, the warmth of his skin is as shocking as if he had put an icecube against my spine.
“Thank you, Mr Rothchild.” I say automatically. I’m shown to a chair opposite him and i sit down carefully in the dress.
“Would you like some wine?” Dr Lecter asks and I try to smile politely. He leaves to fetch it.
There is a beautiful floral centerpiece on the table and the silverware shines in three settings.
“Hey baby! You wanna go back to my place after this? You can blow me while I watch the fight!” Mr Rothchild spouts, spittle forming on the edges of his mouth.
“No thank you.” I reply, trying not to react.
“You’ll have to forgive Anthony. The sedatives have made him a little off kilter.” Dr Lecter says as he returns with a bottle.
“Thats-” I stop as he leans over me to pour a glass. He is so close I can smell his cologne and feel his breath on my skin. He retreats and pours himself a glass before seating himself at the head of the table between me and Rothchild.
“There now. Please enjoy the appetizer.” He waves at the plate in front of me. There’s some kind of terrine with a small dressed salad.
Hands shaking, I pick up my cutlery and take a bite. It's delicious. I tell Dr Lecter this and he smiles.
“Hey! Where’s mine?” Rothchild pipes up. The plate in front of him is empty. “Can I get someothat booze?” His words have begun to run together.
“I’m afraid not, it will interfere with your medication.” Dr Lecter replies, gracefully taking a bit of his own food. Rothchild blows a loud raspberry, spraying the table with spittle.
It lands on my food and I immediately put down my fork. Dr Lecter does the dame, tutting at Rothchild.
“Now, Anthony, if you can’t behave you’ll have to eat in the kitchen.” He chides as you would a child.
“But then I won’t be able to see her boobs anymore!” Rothchild whines and I can’t help but laugh at him. I pick up my wine and use it to hide my smile.
“We talked about this. You’re here to apologize to Miss Grace.” Dr Lecter glances at me and I can’t read his expression.
“WhataveI got to ‘pologize for?” Rothchild flops around in his chair, straining against his restraints.
“You were rather beastly towards me the other day, Mr Rothchild.” I say and he looks up at me with a his mouth wide open.
“You mean the flowers an’ shit?” He exclaims as Der Lecter rises to remove our soiled appetizers. “I thought bitches liked that stuff!”
“I’m afraid I didn’t appreciate it, or the way you spoke to me.” I reply, taking another sip of the rather excellent wine. Dr Lecter returns, I stifle a gasp as his fingers trail over my back as he passes me.
“Just so.” He encourages and Rothchild blows another raspberry.
“Just show me your boobs!” He yells and Dr Lecter sighs.
“Thats it, Anthony, come on now.” He rises again and wheels Rothchild out. All the while Rothchild yells obscenities back at me until his voice is distant and then stops suddenly. I try not to dwell on the suddenness of the silence or the fact that when he was drawn out from under the table it was apparent that Rothchild had been missing one of his legs.
When Dr Lecter returns with our main course I’ve folded and refolded my napkin a dozen times.
The plate has what would appear to be pork medallions with a beautiful apple compote and polenta gratin. I ask politely for my wine to be refilled.
At last we are seated alone.
“I hope you’ll enjoy this.” He motions for me to eat and I force myself to do so. It is of course wonderful. Tender and flavorful, yet it takes a great deal of effort to force myself to swallow.
“Its lovely, Dr Lecter.” I say and he smiles at me, a warm genuine smile that seems alien on his face.
While we eat he chats companionably to me, about the doings of various members of society or upcoming events. When at last he finishes his food and lays down his knife and fork I do so as well almost immediately.
“Dr Lecter-” I begin before he can continue to chatter.
“Hmmm?” He locks eyes with me, his demeanor changing immediately.
“Why have you asked me here tonight?” I ask quietly.
“Why do you think you are here?” He turns the question back on me. I try not to snap at him.
“I’ve had several thoughts on that.” I say and he rises, collecting the dishes. “One was that you were intending to kill me, but then why would you have asked me to dress like this.”
“Quite.” He smiles. I pause for a moment while he takes the dishes out and then returns to sit down, refilling our wine and turning to me. “What other thoughts did you have?”
“I thought perhaps you wished to make me dinner to apologise for your harsh words the other day. But of course I was in the wrong as well.” He hums his agreement.
“Any other ideas?” He takes a sip of his wine, seemingly amused.
“That you wanted to… take me to bed again. However, of course you are seeing Ms DeLace and you don’t strike me as a man who would bed another woman behind her back.” I open my hands, palms up to show I had no further ideas.
He surprises me by laughing.
“Are you familiar with the theory of entropy?” He asks and I nod. “Anything, no matter how unlikely, is possible. A broken cup can fuse back together and leap back onto the table.”
“There’s no reason, scientifically, that it can’t happen. Or that it hasn’t already.” I reply and he smiles warmly again.
“Exactly. In a world where that is possible do you truly believe our interactions are limited to those three options?” He leans his head on his hand.
“No, of course.” I say and he takes a sip of his wine.
“I am, however, curious.” He said pulling his chair closer. “Why, given that one of those possibilities leads to your death, did you come here tonight?” I look in his eyes, sparks flying to their core.
“Because. Just as you can hope that the cup will reform and know while improbable it is entirely possible, I hoped that you only wished to have dinner though it was possible I was meant to be dinner.” I explained and he chuckled.
“Not dinner, Paula.” He almost purrs. I’m once again surprised at his use of my name. He reaches out and wraps his hand around the back of my neck, thumb against my pulse. “Most definitely desert.”
I smile for a fraction of a second before I feel the blade against my skin, how he managed to put it there without me noticing I’m not sure I’ll ever know.
“You broke the rules.” He says calmly and I nod. “You understand I cannot trust that you’ll continue to follow them.”
“I do.” I’m sat so still I’m sure he can hear my heartbeat.
“Do you have anything to say?” His eyebrow quirks.
“Last requests?” I say and he smiles slightly.
“Any last minute briefings, things I should know?” He’s teasing me, I’m oddly at peace.
“You set me up to fail. Antagonised me. Jabbed at me using Rothchild and Ms DeLace to test if I would follow your commandments without fail.” I say and he nods. “I was just an experiment, you were intrigued to see how deep my loyalty went.”
“Yes.” He admits, some knot inside me unfurls at that.
“You never slept with Ms DeLace.” I say and he nods. “You knew that Rothchild would eventually become aggressive towards me. Maybe you even encouraged it.” I’m given a smile for my efforts. “Why feed him to me? An apology?”
“Of sorts.” He says and the blade presses into my skin, I feel a trickle of blood slide down my chest.
“And so I failed because when you hurt me I struck back. I die for a moment of weakness.” I sigh and look him in the eye. “And you lose me. Do it.” I order.
For the first time I see him hesitate.
“If you’re so sure I would betray you then do it. End it here. I’ve had every chance to tell someone, anyone. Yet I haven’t. I’ve learned everything about you that I can and I haven’t turned away. If you’re so sure, if that goddamn perfect mind of you is so sure that you want to give me up. Then get it over with. If you think I’d do anything to hurt you, I hope you choke on me.” My words are calm and measured.
The blade lowers and he backs away.
I grab my glass and throw its contents in his face. I stand and storm out of the dining room, not looking back at the look of surprise on his face.
I head for the door, reaching out to snatch up my coat and head outside. I planned to walk till I found a bar, have a drink, then take a taxi home. I had enough cash for that at least. Then I’d pick up the bag I’d already packed and get another taxi to the airport. I’d buy a ticket somewhere, anywhere, and get away.
He didn’t stop me putting on my coat.
He didn’t stop me slamming the door behind me.
He didn’t stop me walking down the road.
He didn’t stop me having a vodka cranberry at the bar three blacks away.
He didn’t need to.
I opened the door to my apartment and before I could flip the light switch he’d grabbed my arm, pulled me inside then pressed me face first into the door, closing it with a thud.
A blade at my throat and one arm wrapped around my back. I tried to move but he twisted my wrist in warning.
“Good evening, Dr Lecter.” I say into the door.
“Good evening, Miss Grace. May I ask where you were planning on going?” He flicks on the light and twisting my head slightly I can see my suitcase sat closeby where I left it. Damn.
“Away.” I replied.
“From me?” He asked, pressing close. I could smell the wine on his breath.
“Yes.” I say and can’t help but laugh a little at myself. Why did I think I could get away?
“You left before we could finish our discussion.” He stepped back and I turn, rubbing my wrist. Anger flares in me anew.
“I’m not your patient, or your toy. Kill me or not just get on with it.” I meet his eyes and see amusement there.
“Oh? What did you expect after you found out my little secret?” He stands as if speaking to a group at one of his functions, relaxed but formal.
“I-” I start then feel myself deflate. What had I expected? To be his partner in crime? To help him in his illicit activities? To become his lover? I bite my lip.
He steps forwards slightly. Still within the old boundaries. The knife is hanging loosely from one of his hands, its wicked blade glitters in the overhead light, his eyes glitter too. I’m not sure which I should fear more.
“I expected silly things that were never offered.” I say and he quirks an eyebrow. “I expected to be shown some… affection. Some sign that you appreciated me.” I sigh and touch my hair, I wish I had a moment to unpin it. “I expected the passion you showed me before, but it was an act. It was all an act. You don’t appreciate anyone but yourself.”
“Is that what you think?” He says and I look into his eyes. There’s no emotion there, the only sign of annoyance is a slight set to his jaw. I imagine anyone else would miss it.
“Yes. You chased me here not because you want me to return to you. An idiot romantic fallacy. You came to make sure I didn’t reveal your crimes in a fit of pique. Tell me the truth this once Doctor. Follow your own commandments.” I cross my arms.
“You’re quite correct, Miss Grace.” He bows his head lightly as he speaks. Still formal, still removed, but I see him now.
“And is it true that you’re still unsure if you should remove the threat that I may call the police by say… removing my vocal chords?” I’m pushing my luck and I know it.
“Yes.” He replies.
“Last question. Then you can do what you like, I won’t even scream. You only fucked me because the impulse moved you, you’re not in fact attracted to me in any way.” He twitches almost imperceptibly at the profanity. As he opens his mouth I raise a hand to stop him. “Actually, no. I’d rather go to my grave with at least a little of my self esteem intact.”
I step forward and raise my face to his. “Do as you will.”
As he raises the knife I close my eyes and grit my teeth.
I can hear him moving, feel him circling me. He closes in from behind his breath on my skin making it prickle.
“I’m sorry, Paula.” He whispers. I swallow at the simple apology and brace for the pain.
Instead he grips my shoulders firmly. He turns me towards him and one hand slips to my waist where he bends me over backwards slightly. He leans with me and presses his lips to mine.
I gasp and tense but he continues to kiss me softly, tenderly. I wrap an arm around his shoulders for support. He gently coaxes my mouth open and dances his tongue against mine, he tastes of wine and spice.
Deftly he moves us over to lay me on my sofa and he lowers himself onto me, still kissing me. I’m lost in the surprise and feel of him until I feel his fingers ghosting against the hem of my skirt. I push against his chest firmly, it takes a moment but eventually he breaks the kiss and pulls back a few inches.
“I- I- I- I- don’t understand.” I manage to pant. He smiles at me, a true smile, a real smile.
“You say I don’t appreciate you. Let me show you how wrong you are.” His reply is silken and I can only respond by kissing him myself and pushing his jacket off his shoulders.
We lay there kissing for quite some time and I could feel my body heating up at his touch. His hands wandered over every inch of me but only over my dress.
He kissed down my throat and sucked gently at the nape of my neck making me gasp softly. I ran my fingers through his hair and tugged gently at the roots. He growled softly, claiming my lips again.
When he came up for air again my head was spinning.
“Bedroom.” He breathed in my ear and I nodded. He stood and scooped me up, following my brief directions to my bedroom.
He lay me on the blankets and I reached out to turn on the bedside lamp, I turned to see him removing his shirt, his eyes were ebony in the dim light.
He covered me with his body again and I explored his body as he nipped at my neck. I gasped and he surprised me by unzipping the dress and beginning to side it off me.
He tossed the heavy velvet gown aside and kissed my breasts through the simple bra I wore. He tired quickly of the barrier and pulled the cups down and began licking and sucking at my nipples. I arched my back and let out a steady stream of whispered encouragement and moans as he touched me.
I hooked one leg over his hip and he ground against me, I gasped at the feel of his arousal and he withdrew for a moment to unbuckle his slacks and remove them.
I managed my own surprise then, I sat up and grabbed at his hips, pulling him towards me and cupping him through his plain black boxers. He grunted as I hooked my fingers in the waistband and pulled them down myself.
I wrapped my hand around his cock and pumped it a few times, gauging his reaction. I looked up at him to see his head tilted back and his eyes shut.
I gently slipped the tip into my mouth and he moaned softly, rocking his hips towards me involuntarily. I sucked and licked up and down slowly and he buried his hands in my hair. He gasped my name as I increased the pace a little.
He pushed me away and onto my back, looking down at me he looked so unlike the man I knew. Gone was the poise and self control, here was the real him.
He pulled off my underwear and opened my legs to run his fingers through my folds. I gasped and pulled his hand away. Before he could respond I pulled him over me, wrapping my legs around him and kissing him deeply as he pressed against my entrance.
He realised my intent and pushed forwards groaning into my mouth.
“Hannibal! Yes!” I cried as he began to thrust into me with a steady rhythm.
He kissed me, swallowing my gasps of pleasure and lifting one of my legs higher to push deeper inside me.
Soon the pace quickened and I felt the coil in my stomach grow tight. He seemed to know i was close and changed position, lifting both my legs against my chest and thrusting from above, nearly folding me in half.
The feel of this new position was so intense I came almost immediately grabbing at the sheets and gasping his name.
He continued this way until I thought I would split in two. I came again before he tensed and came with me.
He collapsed over me and I shifted so we could lay more comfortably. We lay in a tangle for a few moments before we got our breath back. He grabbed my jaw, turning my head so he could kiss me again.
When the kiss ended he looked into my eyes.
“What happens now?” He asked softly and chuckled.
I kissed him again.
The commandments have changed.