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‘With a wife as beautiful as yours, why aren’t you dancing with her?’ Derek made a sound, but did not answer. He let his eyes roam over to Vivian, who was talking with a group of women. ‘She’ll manage better without me.’ He answered Lerner paused. ‘She’ll need you there for her, Trentham. You’re her husband.’ ‘She’ll have an easier life.’ Lerner arched an eyebrow. ‘Is that what you think?’ He gestured to the young men making their way to Vivian. At first, Derek wasn’t at all bothered by it — but it gave him pause when one of the young men dared to let his lips linger on Vivian’s hand a second too long. ‘Bloody hell.’ He muttered. But he wasn’t able to cross over to her, for the man started to lead his smiling wife onto the dance floor. ‘Calm down.’ Lerner sounded amused. ‘It’s only one dance.’ Only it wasn’t. Suddenly, Vivian became a smash at the ball and every man was vying for her attention. As one dance ended, she would be led back to the floor for the next by another. Even though they'd been the last to get showered, in the time-honored tradition Harry and Eddy were the first to be ready. Harry was in a pair of dark blue chinos, with matching blazer and a cream shirt. Eddy was in a pair of black pinstripe slacks and a black dress shirt, his hair pulled tightly back into a ponytail. And as tradition dictated, they stood in the living room and waited patiently, or at least pretended to.In the downstairs guest bedroom, Tamara put the finishing touches on her makeup, fastened the collar and leash she was slowly teaching Eddy to use upon her neck, and looked in the mirror. The satin kimono dress was such a deep shade of purple it almost seemed black. She smiled and bowed to herself in the mirror, her vaguely Kabuki style make-up helping to make the illusion complete. She put on a pair of suede strap sandals in the same color as the dress and twirled in place, imagining she was dancing with her love.In the upstairs guest room, Karen waited most.
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