“Yes, we know she walked the streets. So did Suzie, but we lived with her in relative peace,” Clarissa said.
“Peace? Is she not the reason your house exploded in a ladder of flames?” He snorted.
“Well, yes, but I mean the daily interactions,” Clarissa clarified.
Elizabeth snickered on the other side of the seat.
“All I am trying to do is warn you—she would much prefer to see your womanly parts than my manly flesh.”
They both wore blank expressions.
He exhaled with a loud, whistling noise through his nostrils. “She abhors men, and desires women in a sexual manner. You would do well to give her space. Especially you, Cherry girl.”
“Cherry girl?” Elizabeth giggled.
Oh Jesus. It just slipped. He did not mean—
“Will loves to tease me so, because I told him for all he knew I lived on Cherry Street the first time he met me—the name kind of took.” Clarissa shrugged.
She was fine with this?
Would he ever be able to anticipate her thoughts or actions? At times she was truly puzzling.
He was starting to puzzle out that she was extremely forgiving, though.
This he truly admired about her.
She cupped her hand over his knee in a very free, flirtatious way.
He set his hand over hers and squeezed, offering a sweet smile along the way.
His chest loosened, and his constricting heart flowed freely once more.
When she was pleased, it was like his life made sense and so did he.
He really ought to share with her some of the depraved things he had done with Pauline, though, before that woman shared it with his cherry girl herself.
“I like that—Cherry girl. It’s nice,” Elizabeth commented.
“I do, too. I daren’t share with you his name I’ve chosen,” Clarissa said, giggling.
“Oh God,” he groaned. Why was she baiting her friend like this?
“What is it? Now you must,” Elizabeth insisted.
He almost blurted couillon, but hesitated, unsure if Elizabeth spoke French or not.
“Pearl boy, since he lives on Pearl Street,” Clarissa said.
He wrinkled his brow and kept from shaking his head. Had she ever called him that? He couldn’t recall.
Mostly she either called him names in French or she called him knicker boy, since he made naughty underthings in his spare time.
“What is your passion in life?” Clarissa asked him out of nowhere.
Was this woman reading his thoughts? “You know what it is.”
“Oh, yes . . . I think I do.” She laughed. “What is yours, Elizabeth? Let’s see, shall we, if we can set you on that course that will bring your eternal joy.”
“Eternal? Does such a thing exist?” Elizabeth’s voice squeaked.
“It does. Oh, I know it does. I feel it here.” Clarissa was breathless, and her hand was placed over her heart. “We all have a purpose, and that purpose brings us peace when we seek it and try to fulfill it.”
The motorcar was steeped in a silent, reflective mood.
God, he loved this sweet, garrulous girl.
When they arrived home, she took his hand and Elizabeth’s and then waited for him to give permission.
“Follow me, if you please.” He led the way.
Once inside, he was powerless to Clarissa’s eyes.
She gave him that look, asking for some time alone with her friend.
Instead of saying no and upsetting her, even though he wanted her to himself, he just waved them on to the parlor.
When he told her she could use it for her personal enjoyment, he really was unaware that it would be used so quickly, and that he would almost regret it with such immediacy.
He moved back to his study, poured himself a brandy and sat, considering how to govern his new wards.
Maybe the best tack would be to head straight out there and set down the rules from the start.
After a few more sips of his drink, he marched through the house, found Pauline and gathered them all in the parlor.
Clarissa was beaming at him, sitting next to Elizabeth on the sofa and they were holding hands.
“Oh, Will—I’m so glad you are here. We’re going to dance for you!” Cherry girl bounded off the sofa, asked him to take a seat on the cream-colored settee and then she and Elizabeth took a spot in the most open portion of the room.
Pauline sat down where Clarissa had been, and her eyes were fastened on his girl’s breasts.
This night would go beyond vexing.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned.
That was until the dance began.
And Cherry girl was singing—a new song he had never heard before.
She swayed her hips, twisted and leaped, springing in the air.
Her hair tumbled down, the pins falling out from her exuberant movements.
She fluffed it out with her hands, making his shaft harden and then she flung herself with abandon into a spin.
He clung to the armrests and slid forward to the edge of his seat.
His mouth watered as she bent forward and her cleavage was exposed.
For a brief moment, he felt like they were alone in the room, but then Pauline clapped, and he was more than uncomfortable.
He clapped, too, and gave Clarissa a look that said to end this temptation immediately.
She bowed, and Elizabeth stumbled into her.
“What are you—we weren’t finished.” Elizabeth staggered backward.
“We need to practice more, but do you like it, darling?” Clarissa approached him.
He held his hands out to her, and she took them.
“Yes, ma petite. I adored it, and you were splendid. Elizabeth was quite skilled as well.”
Elizabeth smiled at him, then went over to Pauline and introduced herself.
“Before you all take on so, there are a few things I would like to say as head of this household,” he began.
He stood up and placed Clarissa in the spot where he’d been seated—where she would be separated from the other two ladies.
His feet carried him backward, and once he was satisfied he had their attention, he started once more. “There are rules in my home, and I expect you to obey them. If you do not, then you will be given one warning, and one warning only. After the second offense occurs, you will leave these premises.”
“What are we not allowed to do?” Pauline wore a challenging expression—brows lifted, lips pursed and then spreading into a lopsided grin as if she held the winning hand to a most delicious poker game.
“There are several things I will not tolerate. First order—this is not a brothel. If men come calling, I expect you to visit with them in this very room, and there will be no illicit activities that go on. No sexual contact or lewd behavior. I am not your chaperon, so I expect you to govern yourselves like ladies with high morals.”
Pauline smiled wider, her teeth breaking through her parted lips now.
“Second—no wandering around the house. You are permitted to be in your own private bedroom, the kitchen whenever you like and the gardens, but only during daylight. At night, it is for my pleasure and mine alone, with the exception of Clarissa.”
Clarissa blushed and held her hands tucked in her lap.
“Third—if you are in need of clothing, you tell me directly. You are not to hassle my staff or Clarissa. She is here to be mine, not your little marionette. If you abuse her trust or cause too much womanly drama, you will be escorted out of here. Her life here is to be peaceful in accordance with my will and pleasure.”
Elizabeth nodded but looked slightly alarmed by all his rules.
“You may only use my phone with me present and with my permission. You may borrow my carriages whenever you wish as long as you take them to reputable places. My motorcars are not for your use.”
Clarissa was serene as she listened on.
“No cursing either,” he stated.
&nbs
p; Elizabeth burst out laughing on that one. “Does that include Cherry girl? She has quite the foul mouth—if you speak French, that is.”
Pauline snorted. “Really?” She turned to Elizabeth.
Elizabeth pointed herself in his direction. “Has she told you who taught her such language?”
“No, and if she wants to tell me, that is her prerogative, but I see no reason to cajole it out of her.” He held up his hand so they would quiet down.
“The same woman that showed her those dance moves is the woman that shared those colorful words.” Elizabeth giggled with her mouth cupped by her hand.
“That is fascinating, but we are not discussing that right now.” He took a breath. “I will expect you all to work and have your own money at your disposal. I will not charge you rent, and I will supply your food and water and clothing, but anything else you purchase comes out of your own purses.” He nodded. “Any questions?”
“Will you whip us if we fail to keep these rules?” Pauline asked, her arms crossed over her chest.
“Pauline . . .”
She dropped her back into the cushions.
“And how will you give our first warning when we mess up?” Pauline continued on.
“A word?” He pointed to the far end of the room.
She followed after him.
He set her so her back was to the women so they could not see her facial expressions.
“Already I am regretting having you here. Will you get along? I expect discretion from you,” he said.
Her nostrils flared. “Come now. She should know who she’s with. Have you told her what you do in the garden, at least?”
“She knows enough. It is not your job to supply her with gaps in her knowledge. That is my task, and I will do so when she is ready to hear it, not before.”
She sat back on her heels, swaying a little with a cocky gleam in her eyes. “She has no idea, does she?”
“She has some. Do you think I could hide who I am from her for long when I am so insane for her?”
“You’re afraid,” she said rather too loudly. “You’re afraid to lose her. That is what this is all about.”
“And you should be afraid I shall thrust you out on your ass if you defy me. Try me, Pauline, and you will rue the day you decided to try living here. Be her friend, be kind and stay out of my way.”
“But you’ve helped me more than once now. I know you’re decent.”
“And that is something she has to find out for herself as well. I won’t have you meddling and revealing things she might think I asked you to share with her. Keep your history and mine to yourself, and we shall all live in relative harmony.” He pointed for her to go back.
She did so, a little disgruntled, but agreeable enough.
“Tomorrow we will check on Leo,” William told Clarissa, giving her a look of pleading. “For now, I take my leave of you ladies.”
Without him asking, she got up and left the women, following after him.
He welcomed her into his study, but once the door pressed closed, all gentlemanly behaviors evaporated. “Please—I tried to make amends today. Do not stay away from me. I need you tonight in my bed—in my arms. Do not say no.” He inhaled at her neck, licked at her pulse.
“And if I assert my independence?” she asked with a provoking tone.
“Then I shall creep into your room like a regular ghoul and snatch you up, carrying you off to the garden.” He kissed with an open mouth along the column of her neck.
“How positively primeval of you.” She exhaled like it was a strain to do so. She dropped her head and smiled. “Sing for me.”
“Pardon?” His voice went up in pitch, and he cleared his throat.
“Sing right now for me. If you do it and the ladies can you hear you are singing, but cannot decipher your words, then I shall gladly go with you to your bed and you can have me.”
“You jest,” he said, scrutinizing her face for some sign this was a joke in poor taste.
She inclined her head at him. “I danced for you. Do you think that was an easy thing for me to do?”
“It appeared as effortless for you as breathing is.”
“It wasn’t. I assure you, I was petrified. I love dancing even more than singing, and I was worried you would not like what you would see, especially since you are in a position to have observed many dancers over the years on the stage.”
He gripped her arms tight. “It is not the same. You have some training. I have little to none. How can you think these compare?”
“William—you say you need me, but I cannot possibly fathom how.”
“If you will back up for a moment, you will see the reverse is true. It is you who perpetually runs, not I. The moment you see that I am desperate for you—because you are all that is good in this world and you are all that I need—that is the moment you will have your eyes opened. If you were to share with me one vulnerability or one need in your life I fulfill other than monetary since I’m certain you put no stock in that—then I could relax. I would not be this raging lunatic, clutching at your ankles to keep you here,” he said in a rush.
She curled her hands around the back of his neck and squeezed. “Do you think I would be here if you did not mean something to me? Who else sees any value in me other than Leo?”
“Both those ladies out there—all those men at the bank you put under your spell today. My God, I feel like it’s a Herculean effort to keep them from snapping at you and devouring you whole.” He cupped her hands around his neck.
“But do any of them hold my heart the way you do?”
“I wish I knew.” He took a deep, abiding breath. “All right—before I sing for you—know this . . . Pauline and I have a past together.”
“I assumed as much.”
“And you are fine with her dwelling under this roof when you know this?” He stretched his shoulders for a moment, rolling them back. They were so tense. “I know if the reverse were true, and I were in your position, I would frighten that woman off in a rage of jealousy.”
She wore a soft, understanding look.
“I could barely stand to have Tyrone Power in the same room as you today, let alone look in your direction—what with his reputation.” He paused and took a deep breath. “Not that his is any worse than mine, but still . . . Power almost boasts about his conquests. For me . . .” He trailed off for a moment, getting lost in her eyes. Her expression turned to one of sympathy, so he kept going. “For me, it has never been about choice or gloating or pride. It’s a hunger, a driving force deep down inside me that tells me I have to subjugate a woman—you—and take you in hand, along with providing and protecting you. I have no idea why I feel this way. I’m an aberration, I suppose.” He stroked her hands on his neck. “But for some reason you supply all my feral needs to be this man.”
She sighed. “And I relish each moment you are this man to its fullest.”
“Truly? There are so many things I desire to do to you, but I hold back for fear of frightening you with my intensity.”
“There is nothing I fear from you other than losing who I am. I come alive at your touch, and your attentions ignite this flame in me like I can scarcely believe, but I will not be the silenced type. If you are looking for someone to arrest completely into oblivion, then it cannot be me. I have to retain some portion of who I am.”
“My intent is never to break you and make you disappear. It is to be there for you—to guide you. I do want you on stage, sweetheart, but not at the cost of your soul. You have a pristine, resplendent one, and I’ll be damned if I allow it to be sullied by men in the acting business that care nothing for the women on stage.”
“But what of Lenora?”
He closed his eyes and went on. “Lenora knew what she was after, and it was a mutually beneficial exchange of power for placement in the theater. I was tired of hiring women like Pauline to submit to me. She never liked it. None of them ever did, but they tolerated it because either they wanted my mo
ney or my connections.” He opened his eyes, and hers were misted. “I am not proud of the way I treated her, but I was so angry and broken inside that no one wanted to let me out of my cage. No one liked what I set free in small increments.”
“I love it. You are breathtaking, and you thrill me to the bone with excitement. I cannot wait to see how else you plan to debase me.” She smiled.
He kissed her at the corner of her mouth, then licked there to prove a point. “Pauline could tell you things about me that would turn your blood cold.”
“I’m sure she could, but does it matter?”
“It might to you. I was in earnest today. I cannot explain it, other than I’m compelled—I want you to marry me. So, will you?”
“Sing for me first, silly man, and then I will supply you with my answer.”
“Tell me first some need I fulfill for you so I know you need me in some manner,” he said like a stubborn mule.
“The day I met you and you broke apart my pearls I knew you would cause havoc in my life, so I ran. But what you fail to notice is I always come back and hide. Why do you think that is?”
“Do you refer to the party I hosted at the Vanderbilts’?”
She blinked, her lashes fluttering in a subtle way. “Yes.”
“Because you enjoy toying with danger?” He shifted closer to her.
She released his neck and the absence of the warmth set his gut to pieces.
“Because I love to run and be chased. You coming after me gives me what I need. A sense of importance in your life. You can tell me you need me, say you love me, but unless you give chase and are clever enough to find where I hide, I do not feel truly worthy. That is what I need from you, and that is what you supply. You show me that you will stop at nothing to be with me, and that is more than any bank note you could ever gift me with.”
He opened his mouth with a moment’s hesitation, and he sang. Oh, how he belted it out, even with his heart thundering in his chest, and his hands roaming over her body. He hadn’t the wherewithal to know what he sang about, but there was something in there about his heart and how it was unburdened by her, that she added a lightness to his touch, a spark in his eyes and gave him a life he had never known.
It ended, of course, with some very naughty words about how he planned to open her to other experiences—other forbidden moments—sensual escapades in public, his body in her darkest, deepest orifices and how he yearned to be accepted for who he truly was as a demon of the night.
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