by I. T. Lucas
Robert’s heavy footsteps on the concrete stairs announced his approach. The guy stomped like a gorilla. He was tall, but not as bulky as his footsteps implied.
“The first batch of soldiers has arrived, sir. Would you like a word with them before I show them to their quarters?”
What he would’ve liked was for Robert to drop the honorific. Perhaps punishment would drive the lesson home. “Robert, from now on I’ll impose a one-hundred-dollar fine for each sir.”
“Yes, S…Sebastian.”
Sebastian sighed. The guy was hopeless. “How many have arrived?”
“Five, s…shit…” Robert dropped his head. “Why is it so hard?” he mumbled, addressing his boots.
“Tonight, after you’re done with your duties, I want you to stand in front of the mirror and practice. Your trouble is that you’re programmed to say sir after a yes; try responding with words like okay, sure, and no problem. Or even I got it, or I’m on it.”
“I got it.” Robert sounded like he was talking with a mouth full of spaghetti.
“That’s a good start.” Sebastian clapped the guy’s shoulder.
They climbed the stairs, and as they reached the main level, Sebastian punched the code into the electronic lock. The new, reinforced steel door he’d had installed clicked open. Originally, the door to the basement had been visible to anyone walking down the hallway to the kitchen. He needed the new door hidden, so he’d had sectioned off part of that corridor, enclosing it with a new wall and another plain-looking door. The corridor was wide, and the new enclosure created a small vestibule that was nevertheless sufficient in size for a guard station that included a desk with a monitor and a chair.
Robert pushed open the door, and as they emerged on the other side, the five new arrivals stood up from where they were seated around the dining table and saluted.
He smiled without returning the salute. “How was your trip? Good? He shook hands with each one. “What do you think of the place? Nice, huh?” They kept nodding and mumbling their approval. “Robert will show you where everything is. The rooms are still unfurnished but everything you need is in the containers outside. Each of you will be rooming with another warrior and you are free to choose who you want to room with. The good news is that each room has its own bathroom.”
That last bit got them excited. The facilities at their home base were communal. It wasn’t as if the men had to stand in line for the showers, or even minded having to do so in front of other males, but toilets were another story altogether. Having a semi-private one must’ve seemed like the height of luxury to them.
“Tonight, after you get settled in your rooms, you’re free to roam and acquaint yourself with the grounds. Tomorrow morning, you’ll report to Robert. Your first task will be to prepare the base for the rest of the men, distributing furniture to the other rooms and whatever else Robert assigns to you. You are dismissed.”
“Yes, sir.” The men saluted.
Robert hesitated a moment before asking, “Should I tell them not to do it?”
“No, it’s fine, Robert. It’s not as if I’m planning on taking anyone other than you and Tom to meetings.”
Robert nodded.
Well, that was one way to circumvent the compulsion—refrain from saying anything. He clapped the man’s shoulder.
As the soldiers followed Robert to their ground-floor quarters, Sebastian waited a few seconds before climbing the stairs to his third-floor residence. Out of all the guys who’d worked on it throughout the day, only the tile man remained, applying gray grout to the gleaming white marble walls in the bathroom. But other than these last finishing touches, and the furniture Sebastian was still waiting for, the place was done. In the meantime, he had furnished his spacious quarters with standard issue items from the containers outside. One double bed took a small corner of his bedroom, and in the study, he’d positioned the simple student desk to face the tall, double glass doors leading out to the balcony. There was nothing in the living room aside from the built-in bar and the granite mantel surrounding the fireplace.
Sebastian dropped his clipboard on the desk and sat down. For a moment, he got distracted watching the setting sun reflected on the bookcases that had received their last coat of deep burgundy stain this afternoon. The fresh varnish was still wet and its strong smell permeated the study. Breathing in the fumes, Sebastian contemplated taking his laptop down to the kitchen and working from there.
Except, he didn’t want to interact with the soldiers who would no doubt frequent the place. His study was peaceful, and he found the pastoral view oddly tranquil.
The wholesaler’s website selection of hotel room furniture and accessories wasn’t extensive, and as Sebastian flipped through the limited assortment, he was tempted to look elsewhere for what he had in mind for the girls’ rooms. Trouble was, he needed to bundle all of the purchases together and present them to headquarters as expenses related to housing his men. Buying nice things from a department store or some specialty bed-and-bath place would’ve raised suspicion. It was one thing to make these kinds of purchases for his private consumption; it was a different thing altogether to buy large quantities of the same.
The upside of the limited selection was that it didn’t take him long to finalize his new list of items. Once he was done, he forwarded it to Tom with instructions for expedited shipping.
In a week, everything would be ready for the girls. It was time to make some phone calls and arrange for a timely delivery of the most important item on his supply list—the females themselves.
CHAPTER 21: AMANDA
Annani’s sage advice could’ve been condensed into one sentence—follow your gut—and Amanda had realized that talking with Andrew and her mother, although helpful, hadn’t been all that illuminating.
It was still up to her to figure out a way to live with Dalhu, or conversely without.
If not for Annani’s presence, Amanda would have done her thinking while pacing back and forth the length of her living room with short detours to replenish her drink. But doing so while her mother’s wise and concerned eyes followed her every move wasn’t going to work.
Soaking in a tub was the only other activity she found conducive to deep thinking. Not that it was doing her any good now. The only thing that kept going in her head like a broken record was—follow your heart. No other thought managed to break through the never-ending cycle of that mantra, and the water was getting cold.
She reached for the hot water lever, but her hand landed on the drain knob instead. She twisted it open. It seemed that her subconscious had reached the same conclusion her conscious mind was begging to form.
The time for thinking was over.
She needed to go down to that dungeon and confront Dalhu and his demons—or rather hers—head on. Whatever came out of it would be better than this endless self-doubt and torment.
As she saw it, there were only two possible outcomes.
She would either jump his bones—and finally have the mind-blowing sex she’d been fantasizing about since the first time he’d touched her, or she’d be repulsed by him and leave—this time for good.
However, the first outcome presented a practical problem. With the unseen spectators monitoring what was going on in Dalhu’s quarters, audio and visual, there was no privacy, and the bathroom’s floor was definitely not part of her fantasy.
She had to figure out a way to circumvent the surveillance.
With the newfound resolution, Amanda stepped out of the tub and wrapped herself in a towel.
The idea of how to go about it came to her while applying mascara. She could render the cameras blind with black spray paint. Problem was, she had none and was too impatient to wait for Onidu to go down and get it from a building supply store. Maybe she could duct tape the lenses. Though that too was problematic. Even with her impressive height, and standing on top of a chair, she wasn’t sure she could reach them—the ceilings in the dungeon were ten feet tall if not more.
Still wrapped in the towel, she dashed out to her bedroom and pulled her phone out of her purse.
Please run down and buy me a can of black spray paint. Be back ASAP.
His reply was almost instantaneous. Right away, mistress.
She was so lucky to have him. Who else would’ve obeyed her wishes without a moment’s hesitation or asking questions she didn’t want to answer?
Standing inside her spacious walk-in closet, she dropped the towel and began sifting through the hanging garments, pulling out hangers and holding the outfits in front of her nude body as she examined herself in the mirror.
The outer layer determined the choice of undergarments.
No, and this one no, and that one… maybe, but no. Something super sexy…not slutty, but easy to take off… Aha!
The Diane von Furstenberg—classy and sensual.
The thing about a von Furstenberg wrap dress was that it rocked on someone tall and skinny but made everyone else look like crap. Lucky for her, she was tall, and although not rail thin, she wasn’t busty either.
The dress looked fabulous on her.
The deep lapis blue complemented her eyes and the soft fabric molded beautifully to her figure. Problem was, the effect wouldn’t be the same with underwear lines showing through. If Dalhu were the only one she was going to see, Amanda would’ve gone commando.
Just the thought of being bare under the dress—which could come undone with one tug on the loose knot holding it together—was so deliciously naughty that it was making her horny.
Regrettably, wrap dresses had a tendency of parting at the most inopportune moments, revealing more than a sexy thigh, and she still needed to get Anandur to take her to Dalhu.
With a sigh, she pulled on a black satin thong and matching bra. After putting the dress on and tying the belt in a loose knot, she did a couple of twirls in front of the mirror, enjoying the gentle caress of the fabric as it swished around her legs.
It turned her on.
Damn, evidently every little sensation was getting her all hot and bothered, and she wondered whether the culprit was her anticipated reunion with Dalhu or simply the result of going without sex for a few days.
Nah, it was Dalhu.
Fates, that male’s pull was infuriating.
Her inability to resist Dalhu was so frustrating that she felt like punching him before making love to him. It wasn’t a particularly noble sentiment, but perhaps the token revenge for Mark’s murder would quiet her guilty conscience.
There was a gentle knock on her walk-in closet’s door. “Mistress, I have the spray paint you requested,” Onidu reported.
She stepped out and took the can. “Thank you, this was fast. How did you manage to get to the store and back so quickly?”
“I stopped by security to inquire about the whereabouts of the nearest paint supply store, and when I told the guard which item I was looking for, he suggested I visit the maintenance office first. Fortunately, they had the item in question.” Onidu inclined his head.
“Wonderful.” She gave him a quick hug before going back into the closet and closing the door behind her. A big purse was needed to hide the can from Anandur. Eventually he’d find out, but by then it would be too late for him to do anything about it.
Once she was done transferring everything from her smaller purse into the big satchel, she called Anandur.
“Good evening, Princess, how can I be of service?”
“What? No hi-how’re-ya? Where have you been? Nothing?”
Anandur harrumphed. “The only reason you ever call me is because you need something. It’s never just to chitchat.”
Ugh, he was right. “I’m sorry. It’s no excuse, but with everything that was going on, I kind of took it for granted that you’d be there for me. But that’s just because you’re such a great guy, and I know I can count on you.” It was true, despite her not so subtle wheedling.
“Okay, you’re forgiven. So, where have you been? And more importantly, what have you been doing?” By the dip in his voice, it wasn’t hard to guess the activity he was implying.
“Nothing exciting, Anandur. Get your head out of the porn flick. I borrowed Alex’s boat and took it out for a short cruise to Catalina.”
“Sweet, I heard she’s a beauty.”
“The Anna is, but her crew leaves a lot to be desired.”
“What? No hunky sailors?”
“No, Alex’s crew is all female.”
“And you didn’t invite me? I’m wounded.”
“Trust me when I say it, even you wouldn’t have found them particularly appealing.”
“What do you mean—even me?”
She snorted. “I know your standards. If it’s female and moving, it’s kosher.”
“That’s not true. It has to be over twenty-five as well.”
“Really?” Come to think of it, she had never seen Anandur approach the younger girls.
“I prefer experienced wenches.”
“Yeah, I get it, same here—not the wenches part, but the experience. The younger ones are too emotional and tend to cling.”
It took a lot of meaningless encounters to develop the necessary detachment to treat sex impersonally.
“That’s part of it… Okay, but how did we get from talking about your love life to talking about mine? I guess your call has something to do with a certain frog.”
“I need you to take me to him.”
There was a moment of silence. “Had a change of heart?”
“Yes and no. I can’t decide. I figure the only way to do it is to confront Dalhu. Not so much to hear what he has to say but to see how he makes me feel. I haven’t seen him since Kian shoved reality down my throat and made me face the fact that Dalhu is responsible for Mark’s murder.” Saying it out loud was akin to pricking a balloon and letting the air out—not in one explosive boom, but slowly in a quiet hiss.
The result was the same, though.
Feeling deflated, she walked over to the couch and plopped down with a sigh.
“It shouldn’t have come as such big surprise,” Anandur said gently.
“I know. Some people have selective hearing; I have selective thinking. I don’t let upsetting or inconvenient thoughts pass through the barrier of my conscious mind. I’m dimly aware of them floating somewhere in my subconscious, but that’s all.”
“Not good, Princess. You’re not a child, and closing your eyes and plugging your ears to avoid ugliness will not make it disappear or protect you from its consequences. Better to face the demons and fight them head on than cower in the corner, hoping they’ll go away. They never do, they just wait to ambush you when your guard is down. But if you acknowledge them, at least you have a fighting chance. The other way turns you into a helpless victim. Not a position I would have liked to find myself in.”
Easy for him to talk.
Anandur hadn’t had to mourn his own child or anyone else who’d been dearer to him than his own life. Except, she couldn’t deny that he’d lost his fair share of friends—warriors that had been like brothers to him.
However, their respective miseries aside, he could no longer accuse her of hiding her head in the sand.
“Exactly. That’s why I’m here and in need of your services. So, should we meet down at the dungeon, or do you want to come here and escort me there?” she asked.
“Stay put. I’m coming up.”
CHAPTER 22: KIAN
“I can’t believe how good this is.” Syssi’s eyes practically rolled back with pleasure. “And the presentation, my God, each dish is like a mini work of art. How many people do you think he has, working in that kitchen?”
“I don’t know. Would you like to take a peek? I’m sure Gerard wouldn’t mind.”
His nephew had greeted them when th
ey’d gotten in and had spent a few minutes with Syssi, going over his menu suggestions for the wedding. But the busy restaurant required his stewardship, and he’d had to excuse himself.
Though not before Syssi had thanked him for his help about a dozen times. You’d think the guy had volunteered his services out of the goodness of his heart, and not because he was being paid through the nose.
It had been agreed that all of it would go to Gerard’s private account instead of the restaurant’s, which meant he’d get to keep it all without having to share profits with Kian. But whatever, Kian wasn’t complaining. Gerard could’ve asked double what Kian had offered and would’ve gotten it. Because not only was he the only chef of his caliber willing to at least part cater the wedding on such short notice, but also the best.
Not to mention Syssi’s profound relief at having this major burden taken off her shoulders.
Syssi laughed. “Are you kidding me? Have you ever been inside a busy restaurant’s kitchen? It’s a madhouse in there.”
“Oh, yeah? How would you know?”
Their date was turning out to be everything he’d hoped for and more. This was the perfect place for a romantic proposal—candlelight, soft music, and a procession of tiny but exquisite dishes. Syssi looked so happy that he wanted to kick himself for not taking her out more often. But he was intent on remedying his neglect from now on.
All dolled up, Syssi was wearing a short black dress that at first glance appeared plain but fit her like a second skin, and the earrings and necklace set Amanda had given her provided just the right sparkle to add some glamor to the simple outfit.
She was elegance and sophistication personified.
Spiky black heels added at least four inches to Syssi’s petite figure, making her legs look a mile long. Kian was having a difficult time trying to banish the image of those legs, heels on, wrapped around his waist, and that clingy dress hiked all the way up.
Only his unwavering determination to make it a memorable evening for Syssi stopped him from taking her home. Hell, he wouldn’t have even waited for them to get there. After all, they’d had some memorable adventures in the limo, and the elevator …