by Ann Raina
“And you used your chance well, Matthew. Very well.” She turned on the steps when she heard another person exit the house. “Oh, Ms. Moreno. Here so late?”
Michael watched Alyssa stand beside Lady Summerston. His heart skipped a beat and he fought to keep his expression neutral behind a cloud of smoke.
“Mr. Summerston had a problem with the wine lists on his computer,” Alyssa said.
“Oh, and you fixed it.” Lady Summerston glared at her.
“Yes, I did. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
Alyssa shot Michael a short glance, not even a smile as she hastened downstairs toward her car.
When Michael turned, Lady Summerston was already at the open door, but looked after Alyssa as if the dragon had found a new fiend.
Chapter 11
Michael was still in thoughts when he entered his room. Lady Summerston did not like Alyssa and probably knew she had been the woman stealing away the date from the real Mrs. Smith. If so, it was astonishing to still find her among the employees. Had Mr. Summerston intervened and vetoed to fire her?
He took off his jacket, opened the tie and put both across an armchair. In the semi-darkness of one lamp close to the door, he saw Eric’s outstretched figure on the couch. “Are you okay?” He got closer.
Eric lay on his stomach and waved his hand weakly. His voice was low and strangled. “Leave the lights off and grant me the illusion.”
“Eric, what’s wrong?”
“Did you have a nice night at the opera?”
Michael crouched beside the couch and squinted to see into Eric’s face. The bruise on his chin was dark purple, but there was more. He switched on the small floor lamp.
“Um, I told you to leave the lights off,” Eric complained and shaded his face with his hand. His wrist was bandaged.
“Eric, what the fuck happened?”
“Did I tell you that you sound like my dad?”
“Answer the fucking question!” Abruptly, Michael pulled down the cover to find Eric nude, but covered with bandages across his thighs. “Whom did you meet? The Maniac Torturer? You butt looks like someone tried to beat the living daylights out of you!”
Eric swallowed.
When Michael pried away his hand, he realized Eric cried. He clenched his teeth. Idiot, he wanted to shout, how could you let anyone do this to you? But he didn’t say it. Instead, he pulled back the cover, put a soothing hand on the younger man’s shoulder, squeezed and let go. There were bloody spots in the corners of Eric’s mouth and abrasions around his neck. “It was a hell ride, I suppose?” Michael’s voice was hoarse. He wanted to throttle the woman, who had done this to Eric.
“I was told not to say stop too soon.”
“Oh, God.” Michael hung his head and listened to Eric’s soft sobbing. “Don’t you know that there are rules? You can always call it quits. Always.”
Eric swallowed and looked at the pillow. His fingers played with the edges. “If you can’t talk, it’s hard.”
Now he understood the bloody marks at Eric’s mouth. He had bitten so hard on the gag, he had chafed himself. “A sign, then. Something you agreed upon before.”
“She asked me before she started.”
“So?”
“I agreed.”
Michael bit his lips. There was nothing he could say to either condemn or soothe Eric’s naïveté. He took a deep breath and thought of a different approach. “How come you had a date so soon?”
“Lady Summerston called her and she was in town.” He shot Michael a woeful glance. “Quickly.”
“I understand.” He was angry now. “And Lady Summerston had promised her a willing slave to punish. How convenient!”
“Please, Matt, leave it alone.”
“She hurt you, Eric! She truly, deeply hurt you! That’s not lovemaking, not even a sane form of BDSM! She gave you a thrashing!”
“She said she had a bad day. No deal made or something like that. I didn’t really listen.”
Michael’s jaw hurt from clenching his teeth. He wanted to smash something to smithereens—for Lady Summerston’s unfair request, the other lady’s reckless behavior and Eric’s stupidity. “This job isn’t worth being beaten black and blue, Eric. When will you understand that?”
“When will you understand that I want this job? That I truly like it? Maybe it’s just an interim solution for you, but for me it’s something I want to do. So I can’t afford to say no.” Eric made an effort to turn his head and grimaced. He didn’t feel strong enough for an argument.
Michael moved so Eric could see him better.
“I heard you ask the others about what they gonna do after their job’s done here. You seem to regard this as a job for a few weeks. But we—many of us anyway—want to work here. It’s easy earned money. Why don’t you understand that?”
“What’s her name?”
“I won’t tell you, Matt. You know, it’s—”
“What’s her name?”
* * * *
Eric was frightened. There was a threat, a cold-blooded, brutal threat in Matt’s eyes he hadn’t seen before. He had no strength left to withstand it. “Jacklyn Hollander. Jackie-Ho. She’s a chairman of—”
“I don’t fucking care who she is or if everybody considers her a saint. Gimme a description.”
Eric stared at him.
“A description!”
“Tall, black hair, strong face and strong arms. She’s all muscle when you see her in black leather.”
“I get it.”
He caught Michael at his wrist when he stood. Pain took hold of him and his words were strangled. “You won’t go to her, will you? You’ll ruin everything with one stroke!”
“I want to smack her face.”
Eric smiled wanly. “Don’t do it, please. Promise me you won’t do it.”
* * * *
Michael wanted to shake his head, wanted to run out of the room and vent his anger. Eric’s pleading look made him stay. He nodded.
“You’re one protective fella, Matt. I really appreciate it, but I’ll heal, so why worry?”
Michael claimed back his wrist. “Because even if you agreed on all she said, she should’ve known when to stop. You won’t sit for a week.”
“That’s what Doc Wilmington said, too. So I might take my meals standing. Fuck.” He shook his head, but rested it wearily on the pillow. “I know, I’m a pain in the ass, but can you stand me some days longer? I guess, I’m not so good at being alone right now.”
Michael tried to smile. He was outraged. How could anyone be so senseless, so depraved and ruthless to beat a man so hard he bled? “Sure, yes, you can stay as long as you want. I might claim some space in the bathroom though.”
Michael was used to keep track of changes and had memorized the staff members since the day of his arrival. The only way to find out if one of them was missing was to check their work places. The easy part was to find out about the men in the stables and barns. He jogged around the premises to verify they were all at their places or, if not, had taken leave for vacation. The harder part of work was to confirm the workers in the houses, around the pools and spa and in the main kitchen.
He sneaked into the restaurant kitchen under the pretense of checking a menu for a lady waiting at the table. She had ordered when he passed by, so he could be sure the order had just arrived at the counter. The cooks glanced at him, but let him pass. Michael smiled convincingly at a young Mexican woman. She gazed at him, already caught by his surprising attention. “The lady outside asks me to check if the duck she ordered would be served with cranberries.” He made a face when she chuckled. “She doesn’t like cranberries.”
The woman glanced at the order and nodded. “She could’ve said so, but, okay, it’ll be without.” Her gaze dropped down his exclusively clad body. “Your sleeves are wet, mister. And your pants, well, in a way, they’re wet, too. Where’ve you been?”
“I just had a collision in the sauna.” He smiled reas
suringly. “Nothing serious.”
“Oh, that explains it!” When Michael didn’t leave, she lifted her head again from the soup she was stirring. “Anything else?”
An elderly cook shook his head, anger clear on his face. His thin moustache twitched when he spoke. “I don’t know what’s wrong in here! With all of you! Hey, you! Get the hell away from the sauce!” He pushed away a young man, who almost fled to the farthest corner of the kitchen. “Everything I have to do myself!”
“What’s eating him?” Michael asked, stooping low to keep the words private.
“Habib left. He was a good help. Very reliable and quick.” She grimaced. “Now Valdez is one man short.” She made a gesture. “You see, it’s crowded today, everyone’s running. And still we can hardly make it in time. It’s a shame.”
“Mr. Summerston fired the man?” He made it a question and let anxiety seep through.
The Mexican woman smiled as if she wanted to ease his worries. “No. He left. Mr. Summerston said he found a better job, but I don’t know.” She shrugged. “It’s good payment here. Must be a big restaurant to have it any better.”
“Yeah, sure. Thanks for your help.”
“You’re welcome. Show up any time.” She winked at him and Michael returned it before he wormed through the men and women, who tried to get the orders done.
It was pure luck that he stayed outdoors for a moment to smoke when one of the younger cooks got out of the kitchen, sweat-covered and tired. He wiped his brow and took off his white head.
“Murderous,” he said lowly and took the cigarette Michael offered. “Thanks.” Michael held the lighter and the cook cupped the flame. He inhaled deeply. “I’m Robert.”
“Matthew.”
They smoked and watched the sky, both drowned in their thoughts.
Michael made a short assessment of Robert. He hadn’t been with the kitchen staff for long, and he truly wasn’t one of the Middle East conspirators.
“Does Mr. Summerston often arrange employees to other employers?”
“It happens.” Robert scratched his wild blond hair. He was about twenty-two, slender, with a too big mouth for his small face. He watched Michael out of light blue eyes. “He’s a good employer. Takes care of his people. So Habib won the lottery and is gone.” He shrugged.
“And was gone just like that?” He snapped his fingers. “I thought people leave at the end of a month or so.”
“Usually.” Robert inhaled again and licked his lips. He leaned against the wall beside the rear entrance, one foot put up on a large stone nearby, portraying a man at ease. “But if the offer’s good…”
“Did you know him?”
“Not really. He was only here for work.”
“You mean, he had an apartment somewhere close by?”
“Maybe.” Robert cocked his head. “Did you want to hire him? I mean, you seem interested in him. Or did he owe you money?”
“Well…” Michael weighed his head and smiled wanly.
Robert made a sound of disappointment. “Won’t see that money again, pal.”
“I’ll get over it.”
The young man squinted and pointed a finger at Michael. “You’re the guy who worked as a handyman before, right?”
Michael nodded.
“Hey, if you did it, maybe I got a chance, too.”
“Why not?”
“Would you talk to Lady Summerston for me? I’m really good with the ladies.” He made an all-charmer’s face.
“Don’t doubt it.” Michael doubted it a lot, but wouldn’t mention it.
“So you’ll tell her?”
“I hardly see her. Or do you see Mr. Summerston every day?”
“No.” Robert’s face fell. “The last days he was in and out, always in hectic, always bad-tempered. Guess, it’s the many guests. Mr. Callahan’s mostly much nicer. Never loud. Never so…short-tempered. But then Mr. Callahan is always like that, no matter what’s going on.” He shook his head. “The others around here say, there’s hardly been a spring with so many guests.” He rolled his eyes heavenward. “And so many pretty women, if you know what I mean.”
Michael smiled and stubbed his cigarette on the concrete. “The warm spring weather, probably.”
“Yeah.” Robert pulled up his nose. “Thanks for the cig.”
“You’re welcome.”
* * * *
Ms. Monroe was flushing red, an unhealthy color that added to her staggering walk up to Lady Summerston’s office where she stumbled and caught herself. She took a deep breath. “Something terrible happened!”
Lady Summerston lifted her gaze from the folder on her desk to assess the situation. Her godchild’s serenity was easily shaken and more often than not, she whined about non-essential business. The lady couldn’t have been more composed and sighed. “Yes?”
Ms. Monroe stepped closer, both hands in an iron grip around a small attaché case. She shook her head, searching for words and air to utter them. “Mrs. Hollander was attacked!”
The lady offered Ms. Monroe the seat in front of the desk and wished her godchild to be less agitated. It gave her a headache. “By whom?”
“She didn’t say, but I think it was Matthew Hathaway!”
“Matthew, hmm?”
“He dunked her in the cold basin in the sauna!”
“Anything else? Was Mrs. Hollander hurt?”
Ms. Monroe didn’t see the amused sparkle in her employer’s eyes. “No, just wet. She’ll sue the farm for the attack, no matter who did it!”
“She’ll try, yes.” Lady Summerston got serious. “How sure are you it was Matt?”
Ms. Monroe weighed her head. “I saw him close to the sauna and a second later hell broke loose. Yes, I’m pretty sure it was him.”
“So Mrs. Hollander didn’t identify him?”
Ms. Monroe’s face was contorted with anxiety. “No. She screamed about bodily harm, her solicitor and that she’d never set foot on the farm again.” She shook her head and worry twisted her face. “This is an awful situation, milady. She might claim he tried to drown her!”
“By what the doc told me I could sue her for exaggerated violence against Eric Bletchley last night. So if she comes, I’ll deal with her. My way.”
“Shall I send you Matthew? I assume you want to fire him.”
“No. That’s all for now.”
“But you can’t just—”
“I can. I know perfectly well what I do. If I could, I had done the same.”
“But—”
“Out!”
* * * *
Michael made a dead drop with the information he had collected and returned to the farm early in the evening. Getting out of the car, he recognized Alyssa sitting on the hood of her old Honda.
“Taking a break or end of workday?” he asked friendly and walked over.
She put both hands on the warm metal and looked him up and down. “Still the smart, charming escort man I remember. You got a day off?”
“Not really. But I’ve some time left.”
“The way you say it sounds like an invitation.” She sighed when his expression turned regretful. “Yes, I know, you can’t take me up to your room. Lady Summerston.”
“She doesn’t like you.”
“Why should she?”
“Does she know about your interference the other day?”
“If so, she’d have me roasted and served on a stick, don’t you think?”
“But how did you manage to keep it from her? After all, Ms. Monroe knows.”
“But she never saw me leave. I took a detour to exit the house.”
“Clever.”
“Hmm, now your smile’s back. Were you truly worried about me?”
“Yes.” He put his hands in his pockets to keep them from grabbing Alyssa on the spot. He wanted to kiss her, hug her, rip all clothes off her wonderful body and do her on the car.
The sparkle in her eyes told him she read his mind. “That’s sweet.”
; “See, I’d like to ask you something. Do you know a member of staff called Habib?”
Alyssa’s face got very still. She exhaled, raised her brows and pulled down the corners of her mouth as if to carefully think about the name. “And if I do? Do you want a rendezvous with him instead of me?”
“I was just wondering if Mr. Summerston hires and fires his personnel at will.”
“He doesn’t.” She frowned. “How come you’re interested in Habib?”
“So you know him?”
“I saw him from time to time, yes. He left. I saw him around and the next thing I know is that he took his bag and was gone.”
“No farewell party, no nothing? Did you see him leave?”
Alyssa slipped from the hood, still frowning deeply. “Listen, Matt, I don’t know why you’re so suddenly interested in the people working here, but I’m not. And I’m not the public information bureau. I waited here to ask you for another date. So you either tell me when you get a day off or I’ll leave you to Mr. Summerston and the rest of the staff around. Maybe men are more to your liking and I misinterpreted your behavior completely.”
“You get pissed pretty quickly.”
She shrugged. “I waited here for an hour. I don’t know what you did in this time, but my time was pretty boring. So, either tell me or not. I have to go.”
“What about tomorrow afternoon? For how long do you have to work?”
“Four. But we won’t leave at the same time. I don’t want Mrs. Summerston on my track. And you don’t want this either.”
“You consider her a threat?”
“She’s a dragon. An old, frustrated lady dragon, which doesn’t do what she wants to do but instead tries to control other peoples’ lives. Like…toys. I don’t want to be one of them.” She went to the driver’s door. “I’ll expect you around five.” She got behind the wheel and backed up.
Michael watched her leave. They had both used the same analogy thinking about the lady. What a strange coincidence. Finally he took his hands out of the pockets. They were clenched into fists.