The Escape

by Alice Ward

  She’d let me release the butterfly from her cage like I’d asked for in my note. Only she was too big of a butterfly to just fly to me. The world needed her out there.

  The revelation made my chest turn cold. Was Adara working her magic so that I wouldn’t be lonely out here all by myself? After she left.

  “All I’m saying is that this poor woman’s probably even more lonely than you are. She never gets out of this place, she’s stuck on a mountain all by herself making phoofy food for you and only you.”

  Stuck. Adara considered this place as being stuck.

  I stroked the horse, doing my damnedest not to let the worry appear on my feature. “She doesn’t make me phoofy food.”

  She crossed her eyes at me. “Lamb shanks with mint leaves?”

  I forced a smile. “It’s not phoofy, it’s delicious.”

  She sighed.

  I threw up my hands. “Okay, I get it. I confess, I’m a snob, and I withdraw from the world, barring even my housekeeper out of my life. Are you happy now?”

  Her blue-green eyes stared back at me, as if she were waiting for more. What could she be…?

  “Dammit. Okay! Let’s invite her to dinner. Or I can go into Butte. Whoa, good thing my brother-in-law isn’t here, or he’d be all over that.”

  She laughed, which had been my intension.

  If I had to invite Ms. White and every other person I’d ever employed to my table to show Adara I wasn’t an asshole, I’d damn well do it. “What is for dinner, anyway? I’m starving after all that exercise.”

  I pulled her away from Sissaleigh, who neighed her displeasure, and leaned in for a kiss, which I made slow and wet and hot.

  “Phoofy herb-crusted halibut.”

  I swatted her rear and breathed in the lighter atmosphere. “That’s a tongue twister I’d like to untwist later. What kind of food do you like that’s not phoofy and not pizza?”

  “Oh, so many things. I’m sick of salad. At Jewel, I had to Uber into town if I wanted anything that wasn’t a vegetable or low fat. The girls didn’t have that option though. They had to stick to a certain diet to maintain their body fat ratio.” Her eyes clouded, her forehead creasing with worry. “Have you heard anything from your detective friend?”

  “Nothing yet.” I put my arm around her, began leading her back to the house. “Let’s ask Ms. White to dinner, then I’ll give him a call.”

  I watched her as we walked back to the “mansion” as she called it. I’d never thought of it as being a mansion. Just home.

  She was such a contradiction. She hid most of her face behind an exotic mask but called me out for not having a close relationship with my housekeeper. Here she was, an enigma with the kindness of a child, all rolled into an amazingly talented, big hearted, sexy as hell woman. I couldn’t help but begin to love her.

  When we got back, Adara set the table and made it beautiful as Ms. White brought dishes heaped with food out from the kitchen. The dinner was awkward to start, but I learned what a wonderful conversationalist Ms. White was when she wasn’t being stiff and formal. Through Adara’s gentle questions, I learned that she’d lived a very interesting life before and between working for us. Her holidays sounded exciting with hiking trips to Peru, backpacking in India, and bicycling through France. She had a group of women she traveled with during her two weeks holiday from work, and I honestly never knew.

  Dinner was much more fun than I expected it would be. In one day, Adara had bought more life and joy into this house than I’d been able to muster in my whole thirty-five years of living here.

  After dinner, Adara encouraged me to play piano while she sang to an audience of one. It was a stunning performance, and Ms. White practically beamed from being included. While I wasn’t a pro, I’d been classically trained in piano throughout my childhood and Adara had a voice you could die for. It was rich and throaty and made me think of both Pink and Shakira. Her voice had deepened and taken on more of a graveled quality than it had when she was singing before the accident, but I liked this sound better — it was more real and reflected maturity and strength.

  I began to think on what a musician like her would need. I knew she’d played guitar. An artist of her caliber needed her own studio.

  After Ms. White retired for the night, I asked Adara to fill our wine glasses while I made the call to the detective. As I had thought, progress was slow.

  “We don’t want to go in guns blazing,” Thomas said. “Right now, we’re looking at money trails, gaining background evidence so the assholes don’t shut down accounts before we get through the gate.”

  I made sense, even though I was eager for something to be done now. Adara watched me anxiously, listening to the call on speaker phone.

  “The investigation could take a while. Several weeks or even months. Ms. Wilde…?”

  Adara spoke up. “Yes?”

  “Please don’t return to the compound for any reason. Once we have our evidence, things will move quickly, and I don’t want you in the way when things go down. Besides, Jack Marshall will most likely be looking for revenge.”

  “I won’t go there. I’m worried about Brandy, but she’s texted, so I know she’s alive at least. I’ll find a way to help them, but I never want to go there again.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered. There was nothing more for Thomas to add, so we disconnected the call. I pulled Adara to my chest. “Would you like to join me on my side of the house tonight?” Even though I was playing at being pretentious, the question was still loaded. “There’s a guest suite over on that side too, if you want your space. It’s just a little smaller. My sister stays there when she visits. I’d rather you were closer.”

  I’d purposely put her at the far side of the house last night to keep myself away from her. But now I couldn’t have her too close.

  “Sure,” she answered lightly. “I’ll have to book the first flight out of my wing and meet you over there in an hour. I’ve got to take a shower.”

  “You don’t want to shower at my place on the East Coast?” My tone was hopeful, more hopeful than I’d meant it to be as visions of her naked in my shower with soap bubbles running down her body slammed into my brain.

  “A girl needs a little downtime, lover boy.” She smiled and batted her lashes.

  “Yes, yes, of course.” I backed down a little. The idea of having a shower with her sounded so nice, but so did being with her in bed, on the couch, on the back porch. Having her just about anywhere sounded perfect.

  We finished our wine and parted for a while. She was ready about an hour later, and I got a text asking me to meet her at her room, as she was sure she’d never be able to find my suite.

  When I met her, she was wearing a flowing robe and a beautiful nightgown, both in a deep plumb color that strangely reminded me of what she’d worn at Jewel. She was stunning, such a surreal beauty. My cock swelled as it had so many times already today. She turned me into a needy bastard.

  She walked slowly, obviously sore from the day. I thought of offering to carry her but decided to stay by her side and be patient. It took us awhile to get to my room, but she never got frustrated and her dignity and style never diminished. When we arrived at my part of the house, relief flooded her face.

  “Why don’t you have a seat.” I motioned to the chaise in the sitting area. “It’s pretty late, would you like to go to bed?” I realized I sounded more like a father than a lover.

  “I’m a little tired,” she confessed and sat. “Is your sister’s room far?” I could see she was teasing me, letting me choke on my own awkward way of asking her to my room earlier.

  I handed her a glass of water and kissed her forehead. “If you want, this is as far as you have to go, if you don’t mind sleeping with me here. The bed’s huge, and I promise I’ll let you just sleep.” I flashed her a guilty smile.

  Unless she didn’t want to sleep…

  Her head bowed, and her eyes closed, as if she was preparing herself for something. I waited.<
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  “I don’t usually sleep in my mask, it’s not very comfortable.” Her voice was small and distant.

  “Oh, right, of course.” My chest constricted. She was afraid to sleep with me because I would see her without the mask. I didn’t know what to say to her. I felt a little lost. “Well, the room is just down the hall, not too far, the second door on the left. I can take you if you want.”

  I was trying to be cordial and normal, but all I wanted to do was whip my businessman skills out and sell her on ripping the damn mask off of her face. But I had to wait for her to get to the next level of trust.

  “But…” I hesitated for a moment, feeling anxious. “Sooner or later, you’ll need to take it off, if there’s not going to be anything between us. I’m ready whenever you are. But it’s entirely up to you.”

  She took a deep breath. I could hear the ragged intake as she battled… what? Fear? Shame? Rejection?

  Without a word, her fingers raised to her face, and my heart began to thud hard against my ribs. She grasped the mask, and it began to lower. Lower.

  Please, god, don’t let me say the wrong thing. Don’t let me react the wrong way.

  She kept her head bowed as silent tears dripped onto her robe, turning the plum an even deeper shade of purple. Her breathing was shallow and erratic, and after a few moments, I could tell she was waiting for me to make the next move.

  I knelt in front of her and took her chin in my hand, applying pressure but not forcing her to lift her face to mine. I held my hand steadfast. I would face this with her.

  After a few deep breaths, she raised her head and looked me in the eye with so much bravery, tears burned at my own damn eyes.

  There was an angry red scar from the top of her eye socket, running through her temple and nearly to her jawline, as if a streak of lightning had been painted across her face. The lines were hard, deep and jagged, pulling at her eye. The injury must have been bad, if this was the result after surgeries.

  And it didn’t diminish her beauty at all.

  Using my thumb, I traced a line beneath the scar, and I couldn’t keep the awe of seeing her face for the first time out of my voice. “You look like a warrior princess who’s survived a terrible battle.” Which she had. And because of it, she was more real than any other person I’d ever known.

  Like the heroines of fantasies, she was more interesting and alluring with her scar.

  Her face on the undamaged side was exquisite. I remembered Adara being beautiful, but she’d matured and become as close to perfection as a human could get. The side with her scar looked… like she had a scar. It was long and deep, and she’d been very lucky to not have lost her eye. Even though it pulled her eyelid in an odd direction, there wasn’t anything frightening about it. It was much worse in her mind.

  And it was probably much worse to an industry that expected perfection from its stars.

  I smooth my hand over the crooked line and kissed her cheek, then her temple. She shivered under my touch, so I lifted her from the chair and carried her to bed. I then wrapped her in the warm fluffy duvet, and slid in behind her, engulfing her in my arms.

  I scooped her close, and our fingers twined together. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”

  I knew my erection was pushing into her backside, and I was sure she could feel my need for her, but tonight wasn’t about satisfying needs. It was about forging a path into the unknown, together.

  She didn’t say anything, just let out a soft sigh as her muscles relaxed and laid in my arms until sleep claimed her.

  I nuzzled close, hoping to protect her from the monsters in her head, and followed her into the deep black of unconsciousness.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Adara

  When I woke up in the morning, there was no light yet peeking between the drapes. Which I couldn’t look at now without the mental image of a nude Roman wrapped in them, posing with his trade goods stacked all around.

  I snickered and looked quickly at Roman, who was sleeping by my side, to make sure I hadn’t woken him.

  I watched his face as he slept. He was so beautiful, and not just physically handsome but also loving. And so attentive to any need I might have. He hadn’t seemed shocked when I revealed my face as I’d expected he would. Despite the terrible scar, he still said I was beautiful. I wanted to believe him, was starting to believe him.

  But what if, when he woke up and he saw my face in the light, he felt differently?

  I wanted to lean into the feelings of peace and safety being here with him had given me, but something kept me from fully giving into those emotions. It was because of the women I’d left behind at Jewel. A dark, malevolent feeling settled over me when I thought of them, but I had an idea, something I was turning around in my mind but hadn’t quite smoothed out yet. But before I could make my plan a reality, I had to truly face where my life had led and what I needed to do to make a new one for myself.

  Watching Roman sleep, I wanted to caress his face, lightly kiss those amazing lips. At the same time, I wanted to draw back the emotions thinking of kissing him flooded me with. I knew I couldn’t have a casual fling with this man. I didn’t want temporary. I wanted love and permanency and I didn’t know if he was looking for that. Men usually weren’t. He’d frequented Jewel, and men who walked into brothels weren’t looking for a wife. Most were looking to avoid one.

  I had to take control and get my life together, which was really my only recourse at this point. And I needed to know if Brandy and the other girls were okay.

  Thinking of my cell phone, I knew I’d managed to avoid it long enough. The phone felt diseased, and I knew the minute I touched it, I would be infected. However, I had to face life at one point or another.

  As I moved to grab my phone, Roman stirred next to me and his strong arm pulled me to him. “What are you doing?” he growled, a sleepy rasp in his voice.

  “Getting my phone,” I whispered. “I should probably face things sooner or later.”

  “Later.” He kissed my shoulder as he moved me closer to his body. “It’s too early for life.”

  I could feel his morning erection on the back of my thigh. I wanted to make love to him, but I was afraid. The sunlight was creeping through the window and I had nothing to hide behind. This was me, raw and real.

  I closed my eyes and willed my heartbeat to slow again. Willed myself to be strong enough to own who I was now, and to cherish Roman for what he could give me, even if it was temporary.

  He wrapped his leg around mine. “Whatever you’re thinking, let it go. We’re okay. This is good, Adara, everything is going to be good,” he said as he angled his hips into my backside.

  God, I wanted to make love to him. My heart started pummeling my chest as he reached his hand under my nightgown and pressed it over my breasts. He kissed my neck and nestled his cock into the cleft of my ass.

  “I don’t have to be at work for a few hours. What do you say to a morning quickie?” To punctuate his words, his hand ran down my stomach and cupped me between my legs.

  “Mmm, I love mornings.” A rush of excitement overtook me as I felt him roll over and heard the ripping of foil.

  When he returned, his chest was pressed against my back, and he pulled my leg up over his hip, bringing me closer to his erection. As he leaned in and kissed me, his pelvis undulated against my thigh in a slow and intoxicating rhythm. His fingers slid down to my center and moved my underwear aside, ran his finger across my lips and pressed deeper, gliding across the sensitive skin between. Heat filled me.

  He moaned low in his throat as he pulled his slick fingers away. “You’re already wet for me. My cock wants to be inside you, but he’s a bit hard to handle in the morning. You think you can take it?” His fingers pinched my nipples and his dick pressed up between my legs. “I promise not to break you, mostly.”

  At his words, my pussy flooded, and I had to bite my lip to keep from groaning as he slid his huge cock between my thighs.


  I must have moaned. “Is that a yes?” he asked as he teased my opening with his tip.

  “Yes,” I sighed.

  He then slowly glided himself in, inch by inch, until he was settled deep within me. I held my breath as my body stretched to accommodate him, but the feeling of fullness was mind blowing. When he started moving, I met him thrust for thrust. It was like I was a part of him as we moved in sync, tuned into what the other wanted. Needed.

  When he pulled out, I frowned at the emptiness.

  He grinned at me and commanded with a spank on my ass, “Turn over on your stomach and raise your cute ass a little.”

  I did what he ordered and wiggled my bum for him.

  “This ass is the sweetest thing,” he said as he bent down behind me and licked straight up my center, from my labia to my puckering hole.

  Kneeling behind me, he slid himself back in. From this angle, his cock stretched me even more and filled me so good I thought I could come at any second.

  “That feel okay?”

  His breath hitched as I answered by rocking back on him, pushing him so deep that pain was tiny stabs that raised the pleasure even more.

  “Adara,” he rasped as his pelvis moved in tighter to my hips, pushing his cock in even deeper. His hips jackhammered in quick bursts, and I bore down on him until he spread my body wide, as wide as my hips would reach.

  Then he impaled me, burrowing so deep, fast, undulating. I lost the ability to breathe. His hands held my shoulders, keeping my body still as he tortured it deliciously, mounting me hard and fast. My center was in tight knots, a pressure building that had me losing control of my moans.

  When he pressed me down into the bed and laid all of his body weight on me, his cock leaping in and out of me, I felt it ricochet against the walls of my vagina, and the ball of tension inside me exploded.

  He came with me, his feral sounds increasing my pleasure as I shattered around him and drenched him with my arousal. My body held him tight as he pulsed mercilessly in me, coming with a shout.

  He fell onto the bed and stayed buried in me, thrusting sporadically as spasms hit us and we moaned.