Calliope's Master

by Melinda Barron

  “Thank you.” She swallowed hard. “Thanks for the job.”

  “You’re welcome. We put you on the third floor. We’re not taking guests until Halloween, but some of the rooms are done. Yours is a suite.”

  “Wow, thanks.”

  He waved his hand toward the car. “Can I get your bags?”

  “Sure.” They made their way to the back of the car, she hit the button to open the trunk as she walked. “I’ll get the camera bags and you can get the rest.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” He grabbed her two suitcases as Calliope shouldered the two camera bags that she’d carried on the plane with her.

  His grunt when he lifted one of the cases made her laugh. “Who knew clothes could weigh so much?”

  She gave him a sly grin. “I packed some of the not-so-fragile equipment in there, two tripods, some cords and things. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” He took a step back and she knew he expected her to take the lead. As she headed up the stairs, the cat came out from the window and jumped onto the railing.

  “That’s Sylvester,” Silas said. “He’s the official greeter. He let me know you were here.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Yeah, he gets extra treats when he does his job.” Silas went past her, set down a case, and then opened the screen door. “After you.”

  Calliope stepped inside, and a smile lit her face. “This is beautiful.”

  “Thanks.” He set her cases down beside her. “On your right we have the large living room and off it are two smaller sitting rooms that have game tables and the like. To the left is the dining room and kitchen. We’re pretty much done down here. I’ll give you a tour later.”

  “Sounds good.” She glanced over the wooden furniture, the embroidered cushions giving it a very elegant feel. The rugs were of varying shades of blue and made the room seem very soothing.

  “We’ve tried to stay true to the 1700s feel on the inside. I lost the battle on the outside.”

  She frowned in confusion. “What?”

  “I wanted distressed wood outside, giving it a Puritan feel. But I was outvoted by everyone.” He laughed, which showed her that he wasn’t that upset by his loss. “Tell me you didn’t think Southern plantation when you drove up.”

  “Well, the shutters maybe, but other than that, no. If there was Spanish moss outside you’d be sunk, though.”

  His laughter made her smile. “I’ll keep that in mind. We have an elevator, which I suggest since we have bags. It’s to the right of the staircase.”

  She went in the direction he indicated and when they were inside the elevator, an old-fashioned cage type, he hit the button for the third floor. The elevator started off slow and Calliope leaned against the wall.

  “How are you?” His voice was soft, soothing.

  “Fine.” She gave him a smile, which she knew didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m fine. And you?”

  “I’m okay.” The look he gave her let her know he wasn’t convinced by her words. “I’ve thought about you often, how you’ve handled Henry’s death. Even though I’d only met him twice, I could tell he was a good man.”

  “He was.” She pointed toward his eye. “By the way, I’m sorry about… hitting you.”

  “You’re forgiven.” His declaration sent chills up her spine. “I did get quite a ribbing about it from Chuck and some of my other friends, but I won’t hold it against you.”

  She looked up at the dial as it moved past the second floor. “Thank you.”

  An uncomfortable silence surrounded them. After a few seconds, she cleared her throat. “How many rooms do you have?”

  “Twelve: four suites, two on each floor, and eight regular rooms.”

  The car had stopped, he pulled open the gate.

  “Only twelve? From the size of this place I would think there were more.”

  “We wanted big rooms, comfortable ones that people would want to come back and visit,” Silas said as he indicated she should leave the elevator before him. “There’s a six-lane bowling alley in the basement, along with an indoor pool and hot tub. There’s an outdoor pool and hot tub too.”

  “Cool.” She didn’t want to guess about the amount of money he’d spent. She was sure he had partners since he said “we” several times, but he’d never mentioned who they were.

  “Down at the end of the hallway, last door on the right is you.” When they were at the door he set down the bags and inserted an old skeleton key.

  “No keycards?”

  “Ruin the ambience,” he said as he pushed the door open. She stepped inside and stopped. He handed her the key, she took it and put it in the pocket of her slacks.

  “Wow.” The room was done in reds and blues and carried the theme from downstairs with wood furniture. A large fireplace took up one wall, but what really caught her attention was the three-sectioned conversation chair in front of a huge bay window. She set down her bags and walked to it, looking out the window at the large expanse of forest bordered by water.

  “Absolutely gorgeous,” she whispered. Silas moved next to her, then pulled up the sash on the window.

  “Step out.” She went onto the balcony and the cool autumn air washed over her. So, did the beautiful view out in front of her.

  “This is incredible.”

  “I think so.” He put his hands on the railing and leaned over it. “My house has the same view.”

  That surprised her. “You don’t live here in the B&B?”

  “My managers and partners, Nella and Phillip Wells, live on the second floor. I have an indoor pathway, right outside this door, to my house.”

  Calliope tried to imagine the end of the hallway, but she didn’t remember any doorway.

  “The door’s masked by the curtain,” he said as if he’d read her mind. “I have the only key.”

  She nodded. She remembered the curtain that was bright red.

  “Come on, I’ll show you.” He indicated she should go back inside. “I have something to give you too.”

  “Give me?”

  “Return to you, actually.” He went inside and headed for the door, she followed him wondering what he could be talking about. She closed the door behind her and watched him go to the end of the hall and pull back the curtain. He unlocked the door and swept his hand in front of him. “After you.”

  The doorway led to a long corridor, bordered by windows on either side. The walk was level for a few minutes, then angled downward.

  “This enters onto what I call the first floor, the living quarters. It’s really the second floor. There’s a top and bottom floor, with the garage and shop on the bottom.” He stepped in front of her and unlocked the door.

  “Wow again,” Calliope said as she stepped into what was really loft space. The room was very open, she could see the living room, dining room and kitchen. A small hallway to the right led to the bedroom, or bedrooms, and the bathroom. He’d mentioned the garage and shop. “What’s on the top floor?”

  “My dungeon.”

  Her heart seized, and her nipples hardened as he spoke. “Oh.”

  He stepped around her. “I’ll be right back.”

  Silas went to the hallway, but Calliope’s gaze went to the circular stairway in the corner of the room. He said the word dungeon very matter-of-factly, as if every house should have one. Of course, maybe to him it should.

  He came back with a wallet-sized booklet in his hand. She recognized it immediately and her heart did a double-tap.

  “Chuck took this from Henry’s pocket. I was going to give it to you before you left, but I never saw you again. I brought it with me when I came to Denver for the funeral, but I couldn’t find the right time. Then, I was going to mail it, but…” He held it out. “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get it back to you.”

  She didn’t have to open it to know what was inside, but she did it anyway. The first photo was of her on her knees, hands bound behind her back, legs splayed by a spreader bar. Henry’s hard
cock was in her mouth. In the next one he had a handful of her hair; the photo was blurred enough to let the viewer know her head was moving.

  Calliope flipped the page. The next photo was of her and Justin, his cock spearing her mouth. “Henry loved to watch me suck cock.” She hoped that didn’t make him seem like a pimp. “I mean, he didn’t have me suck everyone. But he did like to watch me submit that way. It made him very,” her voice choked, “hard.”

  “A voyeur,” Silas said. “As a photographer I would expect nothing less.”

  She murmured her agreement as she flipped the page. In the next one she was bent over a sawhorse, a crop rested against her welt-covered ass. She remembered that whipping and her clit twitched as she looked at the next photo, the crop a blur as it pulled back. She remembered the sound of the instrument striking her bottom and she groaned.

  “Sometimes when we were in a restaurant he’d pull this from his pocket and give it to me, make me look at the pictures while the waiter was at the table. He’d order like nothing was amiss and I’d flip through them.”

  She turned a page, saw her ass speared by Henry’s cock. “No one fucked me but him.”

  She sniffed and wiped away a tear before snapping the book shut. “Thank you.”

  “I’m so sorry, I should have…”

  Calliope held up her hand to stop him. “Don’t apologize. Really, it’s okay.”

  “It was wrong of me.” He inclined his head ever so slightly, and Calliope felt a twinge of desire for him. “I apologize.”

  “Apology accepted,” she said. She held it to her chest. “And thank you. I can’t believe I didn’t even realize it was gone. I guess I just didn’t think about it.”

  “I think you’ve had a few other things on your mind lately.”

  She nodded, not wanting to tell him she had numerous other photo albums that she’d been glued to since Henry died. Not to mention the videos.

  “Why don’t you go back to your room and rest for a while? Nella’s planning a special dinner and then the four of us can sit and talk about what we want from you in the way of photographs.” He leaned toward her. “Do you bowl?”

  “Not in years.”

  “We’ll give you tips, if we need to.” The friendly tone of his voice relaxed her. It was a feeling she hadn’t had in quite some time and it made her smile.

  “Do you have those long, inflatable things to keep the balls in line?”

  A sexy grin spread across his face. “Yes, I do have a long, inflatable thing, but I don’t have any gutter guards.”

  A blush spread across her cheeks, warming her face. “Um…”

  “Sorry, I’m overstepping my bounds. Let me escort you back to your room. Nella’s scheduled dinner for seven; does that sound good to you?”

  “Perfect, thanks.” She turned back toward the door.

  “Which reminds me, I’m supposed to ask if you’re vegetarian or if you have other dietary needs.”

  “No, I’m an omnivore,” she replied without breaking step. She should turn around, go back to him and flirt, which was what he was doing. While part of her wanted to, there was another part that thought she was being disloyal to Henry. It was the same feeling she’d had when Justin had secured her arms between the posts at the club, the same sensation that raced through her when the whip came down and Henry wasn’t there to voice his approval.

  She had to find a way around it, or she would wither and die, never to feel the touch of a man again.

  “I think I can find my way,” she said, turning when she got to the door. “And I’ll find my way down for dinner. See you around seven.”

  “Come down earlier if you like, for a cocktail or two.”

  “Will do,” she said, her voice echoing in the hallway as she hurried toward the B&B.

  When she was back in her room, she leaned against the door, mentally kicking herself. She’d acted like a frightened turtle, tucking her head back into her shell at the first sign of danger. Silas wasn’t danger and it was obvious from his comment that he was attracted to her.

  She needed to act like an adult, like a woman would when a man flirted with her. But how was that? It had been so long since anyone but Henry had shown her any attention, and since he’d been gone she’d retreated into her shell, for real.

  Justin told her she had to exorcise Henry from her mind. She’d been pissed when he’d said it and she’d tried to pull away, but he’d held her wrists and kept her close.

  “I’m not telling you to forget him, Calliope, but he’s gone, and he’s not coming back. It’s time for you to move on, and Henry would tell you the same thing. You being a recluse doesn’t honor his memory, it tarnishes it.”

  He was right; she knew. But how the hell was she supposed to do it?

  Silas sat down on the couch and ran his fingers through his hair. “Too fast, Hope, too fast.”

  He’d been attracted to Calliope Ingalls when he’d seen her bound to the tree, her husband’s belt coming down on her ass. It had made him so hard, he’d thought he would split his jeans.

  And then Henry had died, and Chuck had given him the photo book. Silas should have returned it to her before she left town, but there had been no time when he was alone with her. He was pretty sure Jolie knew Henry and Calliope were in a D/s relationship, since she’d booked him for photo shoots at clubs, but giving Calliope the photos in front of her had seemed wrong—an invasion of her privacy.

  But wasn’t it an invasion for him to keep the book, to look over the photos and imagine what it would be like to have her on her knees in front of him? He should be ashamed of himself for taking so long to get it back to her.

  She’d been excited to get it back and then he’d fucked it up by flirting with her. But she’d been so alluring standing there with that sad smile on her face, her gaze centered on the photos in her hand.

  Had she been celibate since her husband had died? From what Jolie had said, Calliope had pretty much kept to herself and she was being forced to take part in life again by taking this job.

  Silas wasn’t sure he wanted her to think of him as the one who pulled her from her comfort zone, at least not if she wasn’t ready to live again. But then again, maybe this was what she needed. He’d watched his sister lose her husband, but two months later she’d been sniffing around for a new one.

  Then again, his sister wasn’t exactly the sentimental type. She would take a birthday card from you, check for money and then toss the card in the trash at the end of the party.

  Something told him Calliope Ingalls had stacks of birthday cards secured in a shoebox in her closet. She probably had her report cards from grade school too.

  Sitting beside those boxes, he was sure, were stacks of photographs her husband had taken of her in various stages of undress and in varying sexual positions. It was quite a memory to have and something that would keep her thinking about him for years to come.

  He wondered exactly how many photos she had of her and Henry together. How could a man compete with that? And what did you do with them if you managed to win her heart? How did you broach the subject? Or did you ignore it all together?

  A sigh escaped him; then he slapped his hands on his thighs and stood. He had to find some way to get around her obvious reluctance to see him as anything other than a man who’d hired her to do a job.

  It probably wasn’t the best thing to start a relationship with someone who was working for you, but Silas was willing to take the risk.

  There were lots of buttons that belonged to Calliope Ingalls that he wanted to push.

  Chapter 4

  She wore a dress to dinner. It was probably a snarky thing to do but she wanted to let him know, without having to say the words, that she didn’t want to go bowling. She wanted to eat, discuss the job and then go back to her room.

  Calliope had mentally kicked herself in the butt for running from him like a frightened virgin earlier. She’d told herself that while her attempt with Justin had failed, it might wor
k with Silas.

  Then she’d opened the large window in her room and looked out over the landscape. She saw the buildings where the overgrowth had been before, and she remembered the day Henry had trudged through there. Right behind those buildings was the spot where her husband had died.

  Tears had filled her eyes and before she could stop them, she was crying with an intensity she thought she’d gotten over; great, heaving sobs had shook her body, making her chest ache until she’d thought she wouldn’t be able to breathe.

  When she’d finally gotten control over herself, she’d taken a shower and slept for a while, then carefully selected a dress and heels that would, hopefully, make her intentions known. Before she’d left, she’d made sure her face didn’t give away how she’d spent her afternoon. Her eyes looked a little puffy, but she hoped that could be explained by the fact that she’d spent a lot of the day traveling. No one ever looked perfect after spending hours on a plane.

  Finding the kitchen wasn’t hard. Nella was obviously cooking Italian food, and it smelled absolutely delicious. But she didn’t hurry to get there. She took the scenic route, touring some of the beautifully decorated rooms. She stopped a few times, framing photographs in her mind as she thought about things she could discuss with Silas and his partners.

  The sound of laughter reached her ears as she passed into the dining room. She stopped and listened. The laughter reminded her of when she and Henry would have guests. In the open loft she could cook and entertain their guests at the same time and they would all laugh and tell jokes.

  It had been so long that she’d forgotten how the sound of laughter could warm her heart. She smiled as she heard a woman say, “Keep your hands out of my food, buddy.”

  “Buddy?” a man replied. “Who you calling buddy?”

  More laughter, then the obvious sound of someone receiving a swat. The woman yelled, “Oh,” and the tone sounded like “More, please,” instead of “Don’t you dare do that!”

  Another smack, and the woman moaned a little more. Calliope stopped just outside the open door and saw a couple that looked to be in their late thirties or early forties standing behind an island in a huge kitchen.