by Chloe Cole
He spread his hands out in front of him and my breathing shallowed as I thought of what those hands could do.
What those hands could teach me to do.
I nodded, but as I did, the world began to spin around me. Everything was dimming, fading out of focus, and then, just as I opened my mouth, I found myself reeling, falling backward until everything was dark.
Chapter 3
Light filtered in through my eyelids and I blinked, my brain feeling foggy and thick.
Dear lord, I’d fainted.
I’d seriously fainted.
In a way, I supposed it was better than throwing myself at his feet or spinning on my heels and running out of the room like I’d wanted to.
But not much.
I looked around and realized I was still in my bedroom, but rather than sprawled on the floor in a heap, I was tucked into the massive featherbed. My cheeks bloomed with heat as I let out a groan.
I was hearty stock. A farm girl used to hard work and harder times. And somehow, this…man had made me keel over with his words and the flash of those strong, all-too capable-looking hands.
Not good.
Footfalls sounded in the hallway and I pulled the blanket higher on my chest, feeling oddly vulnerable in this strange bed.
“I brought you some food,” Gatlin said.
He held out a tray and I took it gratefully, as glad for the sustenance as I was to have something to do besides stare at his gorgeous face. I realized with a start that I hadn’t eaten in almost two days. My stomach had been a wreck since the ceremony, which might explain the fainting.
The thought made me feel marginally better and I snatched up the glass of milk on the tray and took a huge gulp.
“Thank you,” I said, setting it down and picking up a scrumptious looking roast beef sandwich. “I’m sorry about that, I think it’s just been overwhelming. I haven't been sleeping well or eating much. I never expected to be selected, never mind by the king. But I want you to know that I’m really going to try to do my best.”
It seemed like a small enough thing, considering I really had no other choice, but saying it made me feel like I did. And right now? That sense of at least some control over my destiny, even if it was an illusion, made all the difference.
I took a ravenous bite from my sandwich, and as I chewed, I realized he was still watching me.
“What?” I asked, swallowing and taking another bite.
“You have a different way about you. A lack of artifice. I wonder if that’s what drew the king in the first place.”
I shrugged and forced a smile. “Well, I imagine it was something like that. It sure wasn’t my appearance.”
He took a seat in the arm chair beside the bed, his gaze trailing over my face, along the line of my neck and lower before snapping back up to meet mine.
“I wouldn’t be too sure of that at all, Anaya. In an endless cycle of blonde perfection, you offer something different. A feast for the eyes, I must admit. I can see why he chose you.”
His words hung heavy in the air between us and I quickly stuffed the sandwich back into my mouth before I said something dumb.
“In any case, you’re rather a breath of fresh air. I’m interested to see what my brothers think when they return.”
I set the last bit of sandwich down on the plate and moved the tray to the bedside table, nerves cropping up in my belly once again at the thought of more men like this one all in one room, eyeing me like I was Christmas dinner.
“How many of you are there again?”
“Four,” he said, his lips curving into just the hint of a smile. “Myself, Lucian, Michael and Connor.”
Four.
Dear lord, help me.
“Are you all right? Feeling ill again?” he asked, his dark brows knit with concern.
“No, no, just these nerves are getting the best of me. I imagine girls from the city come in with more knowledge than I do.”
He shrugged, the motion pulling his crisp, white shirt more tightly over his muscular chest and arms. “Which can be a help or a hindrance. What can I do to quell your nerves?”
“Maybe, um,” I flicked my tongue over my bottom lip, “you could tell me how it will all go. What lessons I’m to take, when and all.”
He shook his head slowly and gestured toward me. “That’s up to you, little one. Not directly, but we don’t determine a schedule until we see how you take to each task, what further training is needed and the like. Generally, it’s as you might imagine. We’ll teach you many of the acts that can happen between lovers, but we’ll also show you how to behave in the harem, and in other social situations you’ll be expected to participate in.”
My brain shut down, refusing to acknowledge the first part of his little speech, instead latching on to the second like a barnacle on the underside of a boat. “So like a finishing school, then?”
“Sort of like that, I suppose, yes.” His mouth twitched and I squinted at him.
“What?” I demanded.
“Finishing school is a funny way to put it, but I fear at this stage of the game, you wouldn’t get the joke, so I’ll refrain. Also, I don’t want to give the wrong impression. Manners and things of that nature are only a small part of our program.”
Exactly as I’d thought. Which meant that much of my time here was going to be spent learning about sexuality, something I’d been sheltered from my whole life.
Panic rushed over me and I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling like I was about to explode.
“I can’t take it.” The words blasted out of my mouth on a puff of air and then just kept coming. “I’m going to have a heart attack if something doesn’t give. It’s…” I yanked my arms apart and sat up, leaning toward him. “The anticipation is literally killing me. The king is going to wind up with a corpse for his harem.”
Gatlin’s eyes went dark and the sardonic smile slid from his face.
“Don’t even joke about that.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered miserably.
“It’s all right. I know it’s overwhelming. What can we do to help that some?”
I eyed him for a long moment, and then spoke honestly. “Do you think we could just start right away? Have one of…those lessons to get past the jitteriness?”
Maybe I was a glutton for punishment, rushing headlong into this new world, but the wait was far worse. I’d rather get it over with and face my demons than sit here in the proverbial dark and not be able to see the monsters hiding in the shadows.
“This isn’t how we typically do it. I like to get to know the charges a bit more first, but if you feel it will ease your tension, then all right.”
I sucked in a breath, suddenly quite sure that anticipation might not have been so bad after all, but then nodded hesitantly.
Slowly, I rolled back onto the bed, my heart chugging along a hundred miles a minute. I pinched my eyes closed and flipped my skirt to my knees, which was as high as I dared.
“All right. Go ahead,” I said stoically. “You can put it in me now.”
The silence that fell over the room was all-encompassing and, for a second, I wondered if Gatlin had left the room. But when I peeked through one eye, there he was, still seated in the chair beside me, eyes filled with a strange mix or mirth and pity as he struggled not to laugh.
I let the other eye shoot open and glared at him. “I fail to see what is so funny, sir. Do you have any idea what—”
“I apologize.” He reached out a hand and drew me up to sit again, his expression solemn once again. “It’s just…that’s not how that works. There are dozens of things that happen far in advance of a male,” he paused and cleared his throat, “putting it in you. But also, you should know this. While we will become intimate, the intimacy encompasses love making all the way up to, but not including, actual copulation.”
“So, wait, we don’t have sex?” I asked, mostly relieved but also slightly and perversely disappointed.
“No. Not technica
lly.”
“Do I have to have sex with the king?” I asked, hope blooming in my chest. I refused to acknowledge why the thought of having intercourse with the king was far more daunting than the thought of having it with Gatlin and instead focused on the lifeline drifting within reach.
Could I have been wrong all along? Could some of the harem girls be there for just companionship? Maybe they read to him at night, or helped him pick out his robe for the day.
“Most assuredly,” Gatlin said, crushing that hope in an instant. “But our job here is to prepare you for that well enough that it will become something you desire instead of fear. If you trust me to do that, you’ll be all right.”
He moved his chair closer until his knee just brushed against the side of my thigh.
“For now, let’s start at the logical beginning, yes? Have you ever kissed a man before?” he asked.
My eyes popped wide and I shot an instinctive glance to his mouth before darting back to focus on his gaze again.
“I…I’ve kissed a few people.” It didn’t feel crucial to inform him that one of those people had been my cousin, Georgy, one had been the baker’s son when he’d gifted me a pheasant pie that he’d burnt the crust on and couldn’t sell, and the last had been myself, on the back of my hand for practice in the carriage on the way here. “Nothing very prolonged or anything,” I amended, lest I give him the impression that I was an expert.
“Excellent. Why don’t you show me what you know, then.”
I stared at him, nonplussed. “What, like, kiss you?”
He nodded. “There’re no mistakes here, little one. Just go ahead and do what you think is right.”
The clock in the corner ticked so loudly, it was deafening and the room seemed to be closing in on me.
I had two choices. Sit here and sweat, agonizing over it, or get it over with. I chose the latter and launched myself at him, knocking him back on his chair with the sheer force of my assault. Our lips were still mashed together when, gently, he pushed me back, guiding me until we were a few inches apart.
I could taste blood and hoped it was my own until I saw a bead well up on his bottom lip.
“Oh my, I’m so sorry!” I gasped, reaching out and swiping it gently from his mouth. “That was terri-”
“It was perfect,” he murmured, that cocky grin tugging at his mouth again. “Enthusiasm is half the battle. Well done. Now, this time, I’m going to kiss you and I want you to do what I do back to me, okay?”
I nodded and sucked in a steadying breath. He leaned in until his lips were only centimeters from mine. Already, my breathing had gone shallow, and when he buried his fingers into my hair and pulled me close, my skin broke out in goose bumps.
His touch was featherlight, just the whisper of his full, firm lips on mine. It almost tickled but the last thing I felt like doing was laughing.
My pulse stuttered as his tongue swept out, the very tip of it teasing the seam of my lips, wordlessly urging me to open them. I complied without thought, nipples pebbling at the sensation of his tongue tracing the tender skin on the inside of my bottom lip, even as one of his hands drifted down the side of my face and trailed lower, to trace the line of my neck.
Dear lord, what was this magic?
Electrical currents seemed to flow from his body to mine, lighting every nerve-ending in pleasure.
I leaned in closer and met his tongue with mine, hesitantly at first, but more confidently when his own breath caught and his fingers flexed over my throat in just the barest hint of pressure. Moved by the sudden need to touch him as much as mirror him, I moved my palm over his rough stubble, reveling in the strong line of his jaw and how different his skin felt from my own.
His scent swamped my senses and I felt like I was falling, falling…
It was a jolt back to earth when he pulled away.
I didn’t realize that I was panting until I noticed he was too. His dark blue eyes were almost black now, like the midnight sky, and I blinked up at him.
“Georgy sure didn’t kiss like that,” I muttered.
He shook his head slowly, brows caving into a look of confusion as he released me and pushed himself to his feet.
He cleared his throat and offered me a tight smile. “I dare say that was a good start. More work to do, to be sure, but a good start.” His voice sounded raspy as he moved toward the door, his gait strangely stilted compared to before, but I was too busy trying to catch my breath to think on it much. “Now, I’ll give you some time to settle in.”
Without another glance back, he made for the door. As it clicked shut behind him, I slumped back against the pillows, mind reeling.
I felt so alive…exhilarated…terrified. Like I’d been walking on a high wire above a shark-infested sea and had survived. I should’ve been thrilled, but instead, I found myself almost paralyzed with fear all over again.
If that was lesson one, what did the rest of my stay have in store for me?
Chapter 4
The next few hours flew by as I explored my new room and its contents, trying to stay calm and focus on anything but my impromptu lesson with Gatlin.
Logically, the next lesson was probably an extension of the first one, right? After all, the kissing had been good--better than good, really--but it had been so short. There had to be more to it than what he'd shown me. But if there wasn't...
Well, then what came after kissing?
A little fission of pleasure rolled through me as a sudden, unbidden thought ran through my mind. Me nipping his chin, burying my hands in his hair as I rose to take his mouth again. His hands sliding down my neck to cover my breasts…
I shook my head to dispel the thought.
That might be the next step if we were in a relationship. This wasn't about me or Gatlin, though. This was about pleasing the king. I’d do well to remember that.
It was almost dinnertime and I’d bathed, taking advantage of the sweet-smelling soaps, but still needed to select a dress.
I wrapped the towel more tightly around me and padded across the floor to the closet.
I'd been taken aback by all the rich fabrics and gorgeous dresses before, but now I felt a little shiver of anticipation at selecting one. I tugged open the doors and peered inside, taking in all the colors and fabrics again with a fresh eye.
Which would Gatlin think flattered me most?
"Stop it, fool," I muttered under my breath and reached for one in a lovely, hunter green. It looked appropriate for a meal at home. Much less elaborate than some of the intricate, highly embellished gowns around it, but also had an attractive, square neckline that might be flattering, along with being a color that didn't clash with my hair.
I tugged it off the hanger, pleased to see that it buttoned up the front and that I wouldn't have to wrestle with the awkwardness of calling a maid to help me get into it. Rifling through the dresses, I found four white petticoats meant to be worn beneath certain dresses and I selected one from its hanger as well.
I made short work of getting ready, pulling on the frock and then twisting my heavy hair into a neat but simple chignon on the top of my head. After a quick spin in the mirror to ensure that all was where it was meant to be, I turned and made my way to the door.
Almost six PM and it wouldn't do at all to be late.
The journey to the dining room felt interminable, each step like I was walking through jelly as my mind began to churn again.
What if Gatlin was like a decoy? The handsome, cocky, but kind, Saint John brother meant to lure me into a sense of security?
What if the others were old or mean or both?
My mouth was bone dry by the time I stepped into the dining room a few moments later, and it took all my self-discipline not to turn tail and run back up the stairs.
"Good evening, Anaya."
Gatlin's voice cut through the chatter in the room and I looked up to meet his gaze, the memory of our kiss zinging through me and settling low in my belly.
The oth
er voices faded away to silence as three more sets of eyes locked on me. For a second, I swayed on my feet as blood rushed to my head.
"Come. Sit," a second, silky voice chimed in. A beautiful man with a puckish grin, light brown hair and hazel eyes rose and gestured me to come forward. He wasn't as tall as Gatlin, and was more leanly muscled, but he had that same presence about him. A confidence that couldn't be bought, whether by pauper or king.
I took an unsteady step closer and selected the chair by my hand, which was still a good twelve seats away from any of theirs as they were congregated on the far side of the table.
"Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to take one in the kitchen, then?" a third voice chimed in, although chime wasn't a word that could be used for his tone in any way.
My gaze flicked to the end of the table where a third, massive male sat, eyeing me through eyes as dark as coal. "Might as well, for as far off as you are."
He too exuded an air of surety, his lazy comfort sprawled in that chair something I envied as I crowded into a ball on mine. His expression was so shuttered, it took me a few seconds to realize he was poking fun at me.
I bristled and shifted in my seat, irritation taking the place of nerves for a moment.
"Well, how would I know where I'm to sit?" I asked with a shrug. "You're the tutors. I'm the pupil."
His great, slashing brows folded into a thunderous frown as the puckish one burst into laughter.
"Ah, Gatlin, you were right. She's full of piss and vinegar. I like it." He took his seat and gestured for me to take the one beside him. "Come on then, lass. I won't bite."
I stood and did as I was instructed, hyperaware of the heat of every one of their gazes as I did.
When I was finally seated again, I cleared my throat. "So, do I just hazard a guess at everyone's names or?”
I glanced around at them, noting the fourth brother seated to Gatlin's right.
He'd been quiet so far, his golden eyes seeming to assess my every move. Strange how different they all looked, but how easy it was to tell they were brothers. There was no question each held a singular appeal...even the raven-haired, cranky one with that dashing scar over one eye.