By the Bay Ch. 06

Sami saw her discomfort and released her hand. Truthfully, he hadn't meant to touch her. He'd just wanted her to slow down so he could speak to her. He apologized for his actions.

"I just wanted to ask you if I could see you again. Speaking to you... I've never felt this alive in years."

The look in his eyes made her rethink the denial on her lips. It wouldn't be right for her to be meeting him this way when she was supposed to be working. But the time she'd spent with him had been nice, and she was looking forward to the next time they'd meet. She just hadn't thought it wouldn't be coincidental. Anita sighed. She didn't want to hurt him by telling him she didn't want to see him.

"I come to the market once every two days at eight thirty. You can talk to me while I shop," she acceded with a small smile.

She saw a flash of teeth beneath the dark mustache. "Good. I will see you then."

That settled, she turned on her heels and hurried off, hoping to the gods that Jay hadn't awakened.

*

Her hopes were in vain. When she entered the house, he was sitting in the kitchen, munching on one of the carrots she'd set on the table, waiting for her. She laid the market basket on the counter, feeling suddenly guilty for wasting so much time with Sami when Jay was paying her to keep his house in order.

"Good morning," she said with her back to him.

"'Morning. Is everything all right?"

"Yes. Fine. Why do you ask?"

"Well, for one, you haven't looked at me once since you stepped through the door." She heard him snap off another chunk of carrot with his teeth.

She turned to face him. "I'm fine."

"Anita," he sighed. "You're a horrid liar."

He set the remainders of the vegetable on the table and rose. Two shorts steps had him standing in front of her. A gentle finger tilted her head up to meet his.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

It was impossible to want to keep anything from him.

"I met Sami at the market today."

Jay nodded. "And who might that be?"

"Do you remember me telling you that I thought I was going to marry my uncle when I grew up? Well, Sami's my uncle. I know I shouldn't have talked to him for so long. You're paying me to keep your house in order and I wasted an hour with him. I'm so sorry." She said the words in a rush, wanting to get them out as quickly as possible. She hated slacking off from her duties, and she was angry at herself that she hadn't noticed the time sooner. She was a diligent worker, and she hoped he didn't think any less of her because of what she'd done.

She looked miserable, and it was all Jay could do not to kiss her to comfort her. Also, the fact that she'd been in close contact with the man she'd had fantasies about marrying was another reason why he wanted to kiss her. He'd never thought himself a possessive kind of man, and he didn't like the feeling budding in his heart. Anita was his. There was no need to be jealous of any other man. Besides, she'd told him that Sami had married another, which allayed his fears somewhat.

He kissed her lightly on the lips. "No worries, sweetheart. You've done nothing wrong. I'm not going to stop you from speaking to your relatives just because you work for me. But if any of them come knocking on my door at night... "

His light smirk had her blushing instantly. The nights were reserved for themselves only. Images of her nightly escapades rose in her mind and she couldn't help but shiver. Jay was insatiable, taking her two, sometimes even three times a night before he'd let her sleep. She enjoyed everything he'd taught her about loving, but that didn't mean she didn't feel squeamish about her knowledge in the morning.

Sharing herself with a man had changed her. She felt different in her skin. The world seemed more alive, more colorful, more exuberant. She felt like she could tangibly feel the joy of life, something she hadn't experienced before.

When she lifted her eyes to his, Jay could see the passion simmering below the surface. It was a characteristic of hers. She was always shy and subdued until he broke the tight wall she hid her passions behind. But when the temptress was released, she didn't recede until she'd squeezed every drop of his life from his body.

"Beautiful," he murmured as he watched her eyes change colors, pressing his lips to hers more forcefully this time.

A few kisses. That's all she would allow herself to have. There were too many things in the house left undone, and since Nanthini was away for the weekend, it was solely Anita's duty to manage it all. Frankly, she shouldn't even be wasting a minute letting him kiss her this way, but she was hard pressed to tell him to stop. Her lips were slightly sore from his kisses the night before, and they tingled so delightfully as he slanted his lips across hers.

He hadn't even ended the first kiss, and desire had already shot through his skin so fast that his head hurt. It was animalistic, raw, scary. Yet he could not deny the absolute need to bury himself in her body and let her meld herself to him. He could not deny that it was what he'd thought about most over the past few weeks; he could not deny that he'd been thinking about it as he waited for her to return from the market. He could call her his drug, his medicine, his salvation.

Her lips, hair, curves, scent... they drove him to the brink of ecstasy time and time again. But he had to admit that it was Anita herself that made him come like he was emptying his soul in her.

His hands tightened on her waist, and he realized he was ravishing her. He knew that as he scraped his teeth down her neck and over her shoulder. He would've stopped if she'd protested even the slightest bit, but her only response was to shudder and tighten her hold on him.

The kisses were quickly getting out of hand. That fact registered in Anita's mind, but she was beyond redemption, beyond reality. She wanted everything he'd given her last night, the night before, and all the nights since that first night. Then she wanted more.

It scared her, the way he could ignite desire in her so fast. He only had to be within touching distance and her skin would tingle with anticipation. Gods, she was becoming a wanton woman.

His fingers reached under her skirt, under her petticoat and she jerked in his arms with a mewl on her lips. He flicked his thumb against the sensitive bundle of nerves at the juncture of her thighs and her arms went around his neck, anchoring him to her. With a deft movement, he lifted her onto the counter and pushed her dress up to her hips.

She was drowning. She couldn't think. It was insanity. When he exposed her thighs to the cooler temperature of the room, she felt powerful, sensual. When his fingers dipped into her heat, she felt the undeniable need to arch into his hand.

She didn't hear him undo his zipper, but when he thrust into her, he became her world. Every rasp of his breath stimulated her, every thrust made her quiver. Their joining made wet, crude sounds in the room, but to her, nothing mattered but the man between her legs and the arms wrapped around her waist. She took him, feeling her climax upon her mere seconds before it burst behind her eyelids, turning everything colorless.

Then she held him as he took his pleasure, whispering her name.

*

Ruth sat in front of her dresser, fiddling with the ends of her hair. She'd let the golden locks fall loosely around her shoulder, mainly because it was pointless to put them up when they were going to be unpinned a few hours later. She stared at her reflection, taking in the lightly rouged cheeks, flawless skin and plump pink lips. Age had been kind to her. The few wrinkles that marred her face had been masked by facial powder.

"Maddox," she called, tilting her chin to the side to critically evaluate her appearance from a new angle.

Her assistant appeared in the doorway to the small room, his demeanor as polished as it always was. Charles, her previous assistant, had taken to wanderlust and moved on to another country. It was just as well; men in her life had a tendency to be temporary.

"Yes, Madam," Maddox, twenty-two and handsome, asked without expression.

"Do you think I'm beautiful?"

"What has made you doubt it?"

She made a pleased humming sound at the back of her throat. She was, indeed, beautiful. There was no one who could deny it.

She slipped the gold chain around her throat. It was a circular pendant; a gift from the earl. She was to see him in a bit and wanted to please him. He was her only benefactor now as almost all the other available rich men had adjourned to Britain in search of cooler temperatures.

"Maddox, what would you do if someone called you ugly?"

"With all due respect, Madam, no one has." Her eyes met his in the mirror. Her gaze was sharp, and she liked it that he didn't flinch. Maddox was undoubtedly an exquisite man, with his Straits Chinese and British heritage. He knew how to carry himself with the flair of a man of bearing. It was the reason she'd hired him after spending only a moment or two on questions.

"But what would you do," she repeated, "if someone insulted you?"

"I would make him regret it."

"How?"

"By any means possible."

Maddox wasn't telling her anything she hadn't thought of before. That bastard had hurt her, torn her confidence apart and shredded her ego. She needed to do something to hurt him just as badly. She needed to wreck him completely for insulting and shaming her.

"Come here," she commanded the young man standing just inside the doorway. She watched his reflection as he took the few steps that led him to the dressing table.

She turned on her stool and took his hands in hers. They were smooth hands, unaccustomed to the workings of manual labor. She laid them against her bare shoulders and reached back, pulling the strings that held her chemise together. When she stood, the material fell around her like a cloud.

His eyes moved over her nudity and a slight smile tilted his unsmiling lips.

"I want you to fuck me," she whispered, pressing her body against his. "I want you to make me come."

"As you wish," he said coolly and took her lips with his.

It was simple sex, as she'd wished it. At the end of it, he dozed on her bed and she sat at the edge of it, wrapped in a blanket. She had to meet the earl soon, but she knew he wouldn't mind if she was a little late, especially if she granted him special favors because of her tardiness.

It was while she was staring at her writing desk that an idea came to her. She knew immediately that it was a splendid one. There was no other way she could get back at the bastard with that much satisfaction. She had to take away the one thing he'd thought valued much more than Ruth did. The girl.

She tucked the sheet around her breasts and sat at the writing desk. The inkwell was dry so she poured a bit of water in to revitalize the ink. The words formed in her mind even as she dipped the quill in ink.

Dear Madison,

It has been a while since I've written to you, but never doubt that you're constantly in my thoughts and prayers. The seasons here have been long and I've missed your company. The days when we used to have sweet tea and sconces by the sea are long past.

The reason I'm writing to you after all these months is because I bear news of great import. It has come to my attention that the new Duke of Shackleton, your son, is considering taking an island girl to wife. I am unsure if you've heard of this absurd decision, but I felt it my duty to warn you of the likelihood. From what I have gathered, the girl is simply interested in his riches more than his love. I believe it best that you advise your son on the issue.

I do take some personal responsibility in the matter between your son and the girl. After all, it was I who hired the girl to work in the house. I had deliberately sought a plain girl who would not catch a man's eye so as to avoid this sort of problem, and yet, this girl has managed to pocket your son's affections within these few months. I do have to apologize for my oversight.

If you require any assistance in solving the matter, I would be pleased to help you.

Your friend,

Ruth Tatiana