She yawned, unable to shake her weariness. As the ferry slowed to dock, a thrum of excitement buzzed around the base of her brain. I can be Veronica again, not “poor Ronnie who got busted and sent to jail”, or “Ron the math freak.” A fresh start. Without my bitch aunt looking down her nose, and giving my folks hell about me.
She scrubbed her hand over her head, still getting used to the feel of her low cut. A last-minute decision, a radical departure from her usual style, the flirty glances she’d received from several women on the flight had let her know it was a good look for her. Veronica scanned the crowd as the ferry docked.
A few men in driver’s livery held up signs with individual names, and one or two with names of what must be hotels on the island. She frowned when she didn’t see her name. The crowd thinned out and she stood alone on the dock. The stone in her pocket was smooth under her fingers as she fidgeted with it. Fuck. Maybe they forgot me? Maybe I screwed up the directions?
Her pulse pounded in her ears. She shrugged out of her heavy backpack and dug into the front pocket for the letter with her instructions on it. She focused on her breathing as she worked to stem her rising anger and panic. Her hands trembled as she took her phone from her pocket ready to call the number she had been given if she had any problems during her trip.
“Miss Fletcher? Veronica Fletcher?” A deep voice sounded behind her and she bobbled her phone, managing to catch it before it hit the asphalt.
“Yes?” The owner of the voice was tall. A driving cap set at a jaunty angle shaded her face. Her dark blue uniform was crisp. Police? Fuck, I haven’t done fuck all and the police are here? A cop with a driving cap? What the hell? “I’m Veronica.” She hated the tremble in her voice.
“Sorry to startle you. I apologize for being late. I had a bit of trouble on the way.” The woman’s eyes were a light brown with gold flecks. Her gaze was intense, framed by her auburn brows.
“You’re from Rowan House?” Veronica’s panic subsided. It’s a chauffeur’s uniform. She’s not a cop. I’m safe.
“Aye.” The driver pulled off her cap. “Millie Reid.” Her buzz-cut hair, a soft auburn red shot through with gray, shone in the sunlight. Her broad ruddy face pulled into a wide smile. Millie extended her freckled hand and Veronica shook it. Her grip was as strong and as solid as Millie appeared. “You’re our new stable manager.” She swept her gaze over Veronica’s body before she looked back into her eyes. She tilted her head to the side. “You’re even more attractive than your photos. I like the low cut, although your locs were fetching.”
Veronica flushed, the heat rising to the tips of her ears, and she pulled her hand from Millie’s grip. “It was time for a change. I’m pretty sure the horses won’t care what I look like.”
Millie laughed. “True about the horses. But everyone at the house is appreciative of gorgeous scenery.” She picked up Veronica’s large backpack and shouldered it.
Gorgeous? After a red-eye with no sleep? I hope she can see well enough to drive. Veronica’s face burned. She reached out to reclaim her backpack. “Um. Thank you. I can carry my bag.”
Millie waved Veronica off. “I make it a point to handle all luggage for new arrivals. Do you have any other bags?” She glanced around and raised her eyebrows. “This is it?”
“Yes.” Veronica pressed her lips together. Say something. Make it clear. “I don’t think it matters what I look like. I’m here to work as the stable manager, not a whore.”
Millie settled her cap back on her head, the light gone out of her eyes, and her jaw clenched.
Oh fuck. Why did I say that? Veronica averted her eyes, unwilling to meet Millie’s thunderous gaze. I’m an idiot. She processed my papers. She knows.
Millie blew out a breath before she spoke. “I understand what you were hired for. Wasn’t trying to offend you.” She turned her back to Veronica. “This way.”
She walked away from Veronica, never looking back to see if she followed. Veronica stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets and gazed up at the sky. Great. I pissed her off. Fuck. Great way to start my new job. I need to chill. Apologize? She raised her shoulders and let them fall before she hurried to catch up to Millie’s long strides. Even through the haze of her exhaustion she admired Millie’s easy walk. Her hips were narrow, her gait athletic, the movements of someone confident in their power and ability.
Millie walked across the car park toward a black town car. Veronica quickened her pace. She had already stowed Veronica’s backpack in the trunk by the time Veronica arrived at the car. Millie opened the back door of the car and stood to the side, her face a cool mask.
Damn. They sent a limo for me. We must be picking up other guests. “I could ride up front, you know, if there are others to pick up.”
Millie’s face maintained her neutral expression, her voice even. “No. We’re not picking up anyone else. Ride in the back. I’m sure you’re tired after your trip.” She pointed to the door pocket and a bottle of water. “There’s water for you. Coffee and snacks in the basket. Do you need to use the facilities before we leave? It’s a long ride to the house, and once we leave Armadale there’re not many places to stop along the way.”
Veronica avoided making eye contact with Millie. “No. I’ll be okay.” She slid onto the polished black leather seats. Millie closed the door. Veronica braced herself, expecting a harsh door slam after her thoughtless comment. Millie shut it gently with a barely audible click. I’m an ass. A total ass. Millie entered the car, started the engine, and raised the partition between the front seat and the cavernous rear of the limousine.
Veronica scooted her hips back into the wide leather seat. A wicker picnic basket sat on the floor of the car. She picked it up and settled it on the seat beside her. Her mouth watered as the tangy scent of citrus filled the air when she opened the lid of the basket. Two muffins and a thermos were nestled together with a white mug in the basket. She opened the thermos and the aroma of coffee made her giddy. She filled the white cup as high as she dared in the moving car. She took a sip. They know I take my coffee black? Damn. Steadying the coffee cup on her thigh, she picked up one of the muffins and took a bite. The sharp sweet taste of citrus and chocolate exploded across her palate and she moaned softly around the delicate morsel. Veronica finished the muffin in three bites and started on the second.
Thoughtful. And delicious. And what the hell is wrong with me I said that? The coffee was the perfect balance to the sweet orange and chocolate notes of the muffin. She pulled her pen and journal from her inside jacket pocket and made a few notes about her trip, the ferry ride, and her arrival. She wrote down Millie’s name and underlined it. Old school butch. Crew cut. The only thing missing was a ring of keys. Built. Those shoulders. Her face flushed again when she remembered how Millie had looked at her. Her bright cocky smile and the sincere tone of her voice when she complimented her came back to her full force. Veronica shifted in the seat, pressing her thighs together as a tendril of desire curled in her belly. Work. I’m here to work. Nothing else. Not that she’d want me. Probably likes dainty femmes, not ex-cons with no hair.
Sleepy now she had eaten, she replaced the cup into the basket with the coffee thermos before she set the basket back on the floor of the car. She stretched out on the seat and used her jacket for a pillow. The rocking of the car soothed her, and she flipped to a new page in her journal.
VERONICA JOLTED AWAKE when the car stopped. Her pen was still clutched in her hand; her notebook had fallen on the floor of the car. Damn, I fell asleep. Did I drool on the seat? She picked up her notebook and pen and tucked them back into her jacket. She rubbed her hands over her face. She rummaged through her pockets and found her last piece of cinnamon gum, unwrapped it, and popped it into her mouth to get rid of the sour sleep taste in her mouth.
The door opened and Millie was framed by the soft afternoon light behind her. “I’ll take your bag to your room. Do you need anything from it?”
Veronica stifled a yawn. “No. I’ve
got everything.” She shrugged into her jacket and patted her pockets to make sure she hadn’t lost anything while she slept. “All good.” She sat there her brain in a fog from the overnight flight and her nap.
Millie tilted her head at Veronica, a half smile on her face. “You going to stay in the car, love? Or do you want to meet the stunning women you’ll be answering to?”
Veronica shoved off the seat and left the car. “Sorry. I’m not awake.”
Millie reached up and touched her face. She swiped her thumb over Veronica’s cheek. “You’ve an ink mark here. My gran would have spit on her finger first, but I think I’ve got it.”
Her touch was firm but gentle, and Veronica laughed. “My grandma too.” Millie’s hand lingered a moment before she lowered it. Veronica stared into her eyes, wondering at the flash of heat she saw there before Millie turned away from her.
“Hey. I’m sorry. About earlier. I’m still getting used to—” Outside? Life beyond prison? The idea of working at a whorehouse? What the fuck to say? “I’m an idiot, please forgive me?” “Um, everything.”
Millie raised her head and met Veronica’s gaze. “Okay. But you might want to use the term sex worker next time. Some of the women here are sensitive about people calling them whores.” She lowered her brows and her voice. “And Mistress Lucia will most certainly not react well.”
“Got it.” Veronica held Millie’s gaze. “Thank you.”
Millie tilted her head to the side. “For what?”
“The advice. Treating me like I’m somebody. The coffee and the muffins. I didn’t know what to expect, but I never imagined a limo and a driver being sent to pick me up. The orange-chocolate muffins were incredible.”
“You can thank Robin for the muffins.” Millie quirked her mouth, her eyes fixed on Veronica’s face. “Someday, love, you’re going to have to tell me why you think you don’t deserve to be treated well, but right now you need to go see the Mistresses.”
Chapter Three
“VERONICA, WELCOME.” A tall woman with black hair streaked with a touch of gray, flanked by two marginally shorter women, stood on the steps leading up to the house. “I’m Martha MacLeod.” She gestured to the other women. “This is my sister Elaine, and Lucia Caruso.”
Am I in the land of the giants? Fuck, they’re all so tall. And gorgeous. And my bosses. Damn. Think. Say something. Get it together. You’ve seen hot women before, be cool. “Hi.”
Martha took her hand and shook it. Her grip was firm and her gaze steady as she spoke. “I’m happy you decided to join us. Jaya and Sarah gave you the highest marks on their references. We’ve been too long without a proper barn manager.”
The woman she identified as Elaine moved forward. Her bright red hair was pulled back in a tight chignon highlighting the sharp angles of her face. Elaine’s dark-green eyes settled on her like a hawk spotting a rabbit. Veronica had to stop herself from pulling her jacket tighter around herself and crossing her arms.
Elaine took Veronica’s hand. She gave it a hard squeeze and rubbed her thumb over the back of her knuckles before she released her. She rested her hand on her hip and cocked an eyebrow at Veronica, her lips pulled back into a sharp smile. “Are you hungry?”
Doesn’t look like she means food. Damn. Veronica’s ears burned as the flush rose in her face. “I…I’m…I had some snacks on the ride. I’m good.”
“Easy Elaine, don’t frighten her off.” The third woman stepped forward and gripped Elaine’s shoulders. She gently moved her to the side before she stepped around her. She smiled a gentle smile at Veronica. “I’m Lucia.”
Elaine snorted and shot Lucia a glare. “I was asking about dinner.” She returned her laser focus to Veronica, and her face twisted into what passed for a smile. “Staff dinner is at six. Don’t miss it.” Elaine shot another hard glare at Lucia before she walked back into the house.
Lucia stepped forward and clasped Veronica’s hand with both of hers. “I’m sorry. Cook—I mean, Elaine—takes some getting used to. I’m sure you’re tired from your trip. Millie will get you settled. Take care of yourself. Martha will talk with you in the morning about your duties.” Her gentle command was wrapped in the firm kindness of her voice and Veronica found herself lost in the blue-green of her eyes, and the sensation of Lucia’s touch. Lucia released her hand and straightened.
Martha smiled at Veronica before she slipped her arm through Lucia’s, the subtle inclination of Lucia’s body as she leaned into Martha and the way she settled her hand over Martha’s arm a quiet demonstration of the palpable love between them. Veronica turned away. She swallowed the bitterness rising in her throat. What would it be like to have someone look at you like you were the only woman on earth? Someone who wanted only you? Dee. Why’d I think it would be easier to forget her here?
MILLIE LED THE way up the covered stairs leading to the second story of the barn. She opened the door and passed the key back to Veronica. The entryway to the room held a coat rack and a boot tray along with a small bench. She followed Millie into the room. A double bed with a brass head and footrail was placed at right angles to the wall. A small refrigerator next to the bed served as a nightstand and held a reading lamp. An oak armoire and small dresser took up space under the eve opposite the bed. A narrow bookshelf held an electric kettle and two cups, a French coffee press, and a small red-and-white tin. Veronica prayed it held whatever coffee she had been served in the car. Heavy dark-blue curtains covered the window at the gable end of the room. Underneath the window was a plain cherrywood desk and chair. Centered in the middle of the desk was a thick folder.
Millie pointed to a narrow door. “The washroom and toilet are through there.” She placed Veronica’s backpack on the floor before she met her gaze. “I need to add your phone to the tracking app we use for the staff.”
Veronica pushed away her rising anxiety over surrendering her phone even though she had closed her accounts and deleted all of the social media apps from it before she left home. After her release, her phone had been her connection to others. On social media she could be an avatar, and no one judged her about her past. It had also been easy to stalk her ex-lover, and make herself crazy-sad as she scrolled through the photos of Dee with her baby and the smoking hot butch she had married. Dee had made a family while Veronica served time. I can do this. Let it go. Be here. Time to stop torturing myself. Start over. Be present. I’ll be so busy with the barn I won’t even think about her.
She pulled her phone from her back pocket, unlocked it, and passed the device to Millie. “Do you need my e-reader?” Veronica opened the padded pocket on her pack and removed her reader.
“Anything that can receive a signal.” Millie tucked the phone into her jacket pocket and took the reader from Veronica. “I’ll get them back to you this evening and give you the password for the Wi-Fi. We don’t allow workers or visitors to have phones or recording devices in the main house, stable, or play areas. Because you’re staff and will be sleeping out here away from the house you’re allowed access to your phone. When you come to the house for meals, leave it in your room, or the office downstairs. After I enter it in our system, I’ll add my number and Mistress Martha’s to your contacts.”
“Thanks.”
Millie raised an eyebrow. “What kind of books do you read?”
“Everything as long as it has a happy ending.” Veronica lowered her chin to her chest, shy under Millie’s direct gaze.
“Everyone deserves a happy ending.” Millie’s voice was so soft Veronica wasn’t sure she had spoken. “The house has a large library, and a bunch of trade paperback books if you run out of things to read.” Millie tapped the e-reader against her palm. “One of the submissives from the house will clean your room on Tuesdays and change your sheets. Place your clothes in the purple laundry bag hanging in the armoire and they’ll wash them and get them back to you the next day. Staff meals are at half six, noon, and six. If you want something earlier, or anything else related to food in betwee
n, you need to speak with the kitchen staff and arrange it. The folder on the desk has a copy of your contract, a map of the house and grounds, and handbook of house rules. Staff meetings are the first Monday of the month. You’ve missed this month’s meeting but if you have anything you want to discuss before next month’s meeting make an appointment with Mistress Martha.”
“Um, okay. Wow.” Veronica swept her gaze around the room. Despite her nap in the car all she wanted was a hot shower and her bed. She failed to stifle her yawn.
Millie squeezed her shoulder. “You look done in. I’ll knock you up at half five for staff meal.”
Veronica raised her eyebrows. “What?”
Millie laughed and Veronica loved the way her whole body laughed, the mellow round sound filling the small room. “I guess I shouldn’t assume you’d understand. Let me translate. I’ll wake you in time for dinner.” She left and pulled the door closed with a soft click.
Veronica tossed the key on the desk. She sat on the edge of the bed and dug in her pack for her toiletry bag, sleep shorts, and tank top. Her eyes. Golden brown. Beautiful laugh. She’s hot and doesn’t even get it. Hell, they’re all hot here. What’s the matter with me? Not going there. I bet the femmes are lined up three deep for her. The familiar ache of isolation settled in Veronica’s chest.
A SHARP RAP at the door startled Veronica awake. She rolled off the bed and landed on her feet, her heart thumping in her chest. She gripped the headboard to steady herself. Safe. I’m safe. No one’s going to toss my room. I’m safe. Breathe. In out, let it go. She walked to the door, touching each piece of furniture on her way to reassure herself she was not dreaming. She took another deep breath and blew it out before she opened the door. Her nipples pebbled in the cool air. Millie’s swift glance at her chest before she brought her gaze back to Veronica’s face reminded her she was still in her thin tank top and boxer-briefs. “Yes?”
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