The Mistress

by Tiffany Reisz

Page 51

  Author: Tiffany Reisz

  “I know. I do know. It’s the right thing. You’re absolutely right. ”

  “He’ll be good to you. ”

  “He always has been. ”

  “And you’re safe with him. ”

  “I always have been. ”

  “I get that now. ”

  Nora pulled Wesley even closer. It hurt her bruised body to cling to him so hard but she had to. She had no choice, and by now, she was used to this kind of pain.

  “You’re going to find the most amazing girl,” Nora said as she leaned her head against his heart. “A girl who adores you and loves you and sees all the good I see in you. And she’ll be as vanilla as the day is long. ”

  “God, I hope so. ”

  “And she’ll be your best friend and your partner and she’ll help you run that big damn farm of yours. ”

  “I like this girl already. ”

  “And she’ll be smart and strong, but sweet, too. She won’t have my rough edges. She won’t keep riding crops in her closet. ”

  “Just in the stables. ”

  “And she’ll be so beautiful. . . ”

  “Crazy long legs?”

  “If you want. ”

  “I want. ”

  “Long legs, it is, then. You and Legs will be so damn happy together it’ll hurt to look at you. ”

  “I don’t want you to hurt,” Wesley said, his voice breaking a little as he buried his head into her shoulder. “Never again. ”

  “A little pain never killed anybody,” she said. “And you know me, I only like it when it hurts a little. ”

  “Right. It is you, after all. ”

  “So what now?” She looked up at him, at those big brown eyes with the flecks of gold around the irises and all the innocence that even a week with her in his bed hadn’t made a dent in.

  “We let go,” he said. “And we get on with our lives. ”

  She nodded and took a hard breath.

  “You let go first. ” She inhaled deeply, wanting to take in as much of his scent as she could. Summer. Warmth. Clean laundry hanging out to dry. Wesley.

  “I can’t. ”

  “I can’t either. ”

  “Same time, then?”

  “Okay. On the count of three. Ready?” Nora asked, trying to steel herself.

  “No, but we better do it, anyway. ”

  “All right. One. . . ” she said.

  “Two,” whispered Wesley.

  The met each other’s eyes and together spoke the final count.

  “Three. ”

  They let each other go.

  Nora forced herself to stand there in the hall and not move. After all she’d put Wesley through he deserved this much from her. He deserved to be the one who walked away first.

  He took a step back and turned around. As he neared the end of the hall Nora called out to him.

  “We can still be friends, right?”

  Wesley didn’t turn around to answer but the word was all she needed.

  “Forever. ”

  Nora laid a hand against the wall to steady herself. Wesley. . . her Wesley. . . This time she knew he was gone for good. It was okay. It was all right. As much as she loved him she knew she never intended to marry him. She knew he wanted things she would never give him—children, monogamy, an undivided heart. He deserved all that and she prayed he would get it someday. Sooner rather than later, she hoped for his sake. For all their sakes.

  After a minute Nora felt strong enough to go open the door to her bedroom. Grace was there. She would talk to Grace about it all. That would be nice, wouldn’t it? Talk about man troubles to a woman? What a novel concept. . . a female friend who wasn’t in the Underground. She could get used to that, maybe. More women in her life, less men. More stability, fewer adventures. Maybe she could get used to a quieter life, less kink, less craziness. . .

  Worth thinking about. Settling down with Søren a little. Might be all right. People did that. They got older, they calmed down, they stopped sowing wild oats and started sowing. . . what? Domesticated oats? Something like that.

  Nora started to back into her room but paused with her hand on the doorknob when she saw someone slipping into the darkening hallway.

  Laila. . . she’d know those long legs anywhere. Instead of her usual jeans and tee, Laila had on a little slip of a white nightgown, girlish and innocent. She must have stolen it from Anya’s closet. Perfect fit. And Laila didn’t even look her way. She seemed a girl on a mission and that mission involved leaving one room and going into another room.

  Wesley’s room.

  Nora couldn’t help but smile, proud of Søren’s niece for doing something so foolhardy as to attempt to seduce the almost unseduceable Wes Railey. She must get that from Tante Elle.

  “Good girl,” she said to no one. Nora walked to the end of the hall and listened a moment at the door. She heard nothing, no voices. Hopefully Wes would let her down easy and not hurt her feelings. Hopefully Laila would take the rejection well and get back into her room before her overprotective uncle discovered what she’d been doing. . . or attempting to do. The only man who’d sleep with Søren’s virginal eighteen-year-old niece was a man with a death wish. Crazy kids.

  Nora heard the front door open and close and she peered around the corner of the stairway. Søren had returned from his run.

  “Hello down there,” she called from the top of the stairs. “I snuck out of my room. ”

  “I see that. ” He stood at the bottom of the steps looking sweaty and sexy and absolutely overjoyed to see her standing up and smiling down at him. “I think I ordered you to get your rest, didn’t I?”

  “You did. ”

  “You think I won’t punish you because you’re already bruised?”

  “I’m willing to take that risk. Speaking of risks. . . ”

  “Eleanor. . . ”

  “Catch me. ”

  She swung her bottom up onto the banister and without any further warning slid down it toward Søren. He caught her with far more grace than her awkward dismount warranted, and she wrapped her arms and legs around him.

  “Eleanor, how old are you?” He sounded utterly disgusted by her childish behavior.

  “Fifteen. ”

  Søren shook his head.

  “You’re too young for me,” and he moved as if he would drop her.

  “I’m thirty-four, I’m thirty-four, I swear. ” She clung to him and he pulled her back up.

  “Are you going to act like it?”

  “Do I have to?”

  “No. ”

  “Then no. ”

  “Could you at least try to behave yourself for a week or two? My heart could use the rest. ”

  “I am. I’m going to be a saint from now on. No more wild partying, no more drinking too much, no more running off with younger men, no more wild craziness. ”

  “A miracle has been wrought today. And I’ll believe it when I see it. ”

  “Of course if I stop sleeping with other guys. . . and gals, that means you can’t play with other submissives anymore. ”

  “Well. . . ” he said as he hoisted her into his arms and started up the stairs with her, “let’s not get carried away here. ”

  41

  THE PAWN

  Laila knew she would fail even before she slipped into Wes’s room. She also knew she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t try. Her mother was frantic on the phone, wanted her back home immediately. She’d talked Freyja off the ceiling, reminded her that she and her uncle had discussed a short trip to the States earlier that summer. But her mother was adamant. She had to come home as soon as possible. So tomorrow she flew back to Denmark. Everything that had happened had been hushed up, hidden, swept away. No reason to get the police involved or freak out her mother any more than she already was. The people who’d kidnapped her and her aunt were all dead and g
one. Kingsley’s people had “cleaned up” the mess. At least that was all he said about it, and she certainly didn’t want to know any more.

  She didn’t want to know anything tonight, didn’t want to think about anything. She only wanted to be with Wesley in every way he would let her before she returned home and probably never saw him again.

  When she entered his room, she heard water running from the bathroom. He was in the shower. Good. That gave her a few minutes to collect herself. She sat on the edge of the bed facing the window. The sun had set and night was rising and taking over the sky. A few stars peeked over the tops of the trees. The world seemed to be waiting for something wonderful to happen. She hadn’t felt this way since she was a child, resting her head against the wall and listening to her aunt and uncle tell secrets to each other in the dark and feeling that she would die, absolutely die, if she couldn’t be part of that enchanted world they seemed to inhabit.

  Now she sensed the enchantment tiptoeing in through the window and spreading its tendrils through the room. They danced over the Persian rug that lay atop the gleaming hardwood. They whispered across the white linens on the bed. They spiraled up and down the black bedposts of the old sturdy New England bed.

  A summer breeze tickled her bare ankles.

  Laila had never felt more calm in her life.

  The water stopped in the bathroom and she closed her eyes. She heard movement and a door opening. Footsteps. . . and then the footsteps faltered.

  “Laila?”

  She didn’t speak, not a word. She only waited.

  Wes came around the bed and stood in front of her. He wore nothing but jeans and the water that dripped from his hair onto his strong and sturdy shoulders. He had such a beautiful body—his flat stomach, his muscular arms, his chest she wanted to kiss so badly she could taste his skin on her tongue. . . .

  She met his eyes and saw that he looked at her with more than just confusion. The confusion was there, the question, but also desire. She saw it and knew it the moment she saw it. She’d been waiting to see that look all her life.

  “This isn’t a good idea,” he said.

  “I know that. ”

  “You’ve never done this before. ”

  “I don’t care. ”

  “This is such a big deal. We have to talk about birth control—”

  “I’m on it. ”

  “And what this means for us. ”

  “We can answer that question later. ”

  “Laila. . . I don’t want to hurt you. ”

  “You’re hurting,” she said.

  “That’s why it isn’t a good idea. I’m not strong enough to say no to you tonight. ”

  “It’s not weak to say yes. ”

  Wesley heaved a breath. Laila gathered her words and put them in order. She wanted to get them just right.

  “Wes, I know you’re hurting,” she repeated, her voice tremulous and low. “Don’t be afraid to hurt me, too. I know you want to let go. Let go with me. You need comfort. Let me comfort you with my body. Lose yourself inside me. Forget what you’ve lost, forget what you can’t have. There’s no shame in trying to forget for a night even if you know you’ll remember in the morning. ”

  The words hung in the air and vibrated like the final notes of a symphony.

  Wes raised a hand and gently cupped her neck. He bent his head and kissed her.

  At first Laila couldn’t even believe it was happening. What she wanted and what she believed would actually happen were two opposite things. But no, his mouth was on her mouth and she opened to him and gave herself over to the kiss.

  She rose off the bed, wanting to press her body to his but not quite ready to drag him down on top of her yet. When she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, he pulled her close and hard against him. Warm. . . so warm. . . She almost groaned as the heat of his body seeped into her skin. His lips moved against hers in gentle, seeking waves. She thought she’d be terrified at this moment, on this night, but every kiss, every touch, felt so natural, so right.