by Treva Harte
Warning:
The following material contains strong sexual content meant for mature readers. THRESHOLD VOLUME 1 has been rated NC17, erotic, by three individual reviewers. We strongly suggest storing this electronic file in a place where young readers not meant to view this ebook are unlikely to happen upon it. That said, enjoy…
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Desire Island Inn lies on the threshold of forever, a portal into fate,
a gateway to the heart's deepest desire, to passion's heat,
to love.
Every thing to every one.
The ultimate destination vacation.
* * * * *
Solid and strong, the inn rules the island like an aging queen. A single light from an upper window bids welcome. A few mossy trees shade the porch, a tattered bit of lawn fights a dying battle with the sand. Once a stately mansion, it beckons now to the lost and wandering souls of a world gone awry. The wind-tossed sign at the front gate always reads, "Vacancy."
Reflections
Treva Harte
Prologue
She wasn't uneasy. Why should she be? She was safe and dry now and she'd even reapplied her makeup. Mason hadn't called, so that must mean he would arrive at the inn soon. Everything was just the way it should be.
There was no reason to be upset.
The only problem was, she was lying to herself and she knew it. Lilli wasn't sure what was wrong, but she was fingering her silver hand mirror, the one she'd insisted on buying at the antique store last month. She only did that when she was nervous.
“What the hell do you want that for? It doesn't fit with the house. The thing's not even a part of a matched set. Someone tossed out the brush and comb long ago.”
“I just want it. I can't explain why.”
“And stop playing with the damn thing all the time! That would be a bad habit at sixteen. At your age it looks ridiculous.”
She really shouldn't have defied him. Mason was right about everything, of course. If she'd picked their décor out by herself, they would have more Victorian pieces in the house. Mason would hate her unsupervised taste. Mason disliked old furniture, old houses, old anything. Even the ornate mirror looked out of place on their sleek black dresser in their contemporary home. But stupid or not, Lilli had become very fond of the house's only antique. Sometimes just looking at it soothed her. She found herself tracing the ornamentation on the back whenever she felt stressed.
The moment she'd first touched the mirror, she had a mental image of herself in a crisp linen period dress, serenely sipping tea. Who could get upset while at a tea party?
Not that she had any reason to be upset or stressed. Mason gave her everything. She hadn't worked since college. Her stepchildren were grown and out of the house. She and Mason were the only people she had to please. Mason was always pleased with her.
Lilli turned the mirror over.
She looked good. Nearly as good as when Mason first met her at that cheap restaurant. Hell, maybe she looked even better. After all, back then she'd already been on her feet for four hours and was ready to curl up and die from exhaustion. Classes and a full-time job could do that to you. Lilli couldn't remember when she'd ever been so tired.
Mason had looked at her in that crowded room and smiled.
“You're too young and pretty to have such big circles under your eyes, honey. Can you take a break?”
She wasn't supposed to. But Mason got things done. Within a half hour, somehow she was sitting, having coffee and really relaxing for the first time since the semester started.
By the time she graduated, she wore his engagement ring. It hadn't bothered her then that the wedding needed to be put off until Mason's divorce was final.
Things like that bothered her now. Lilli knew she was probably shallow, but the older she got, the more thoughts of Mason's ex-wives gnawed at her. Jean had been thirty-five when Mason divorced her. Teresa had only been thirty.
Lilli turned forty in two weeks.
“I wish I knew what the future holds.” Lilli stared at her face. People said blondes showed their age faster than other people. Bullshit. She wasn't as youthful as that waitress from long ago, but she knew how to put herself together. She was still attractive. She might not be perfect, but she held her own. Anyhow, Mason still thought she was the sexiest thing alive.
Screw pimply gas station attendants who called you ma'am. Idiots.
Lilli put the mirror down on the bureau with a click.
The uneasy feeling had begun at the gas station. Up until then she'd thought it was a fine idea to leave a message asking Mason to meet her at the inn she'd heard about. It was halfway between their house and his convention, and they could relax together after he'd been gone for the week. Mason worked much too hard lately and stayed away from home much too long.
When she first pulled into the gas station right before the dock by the ferry, she'd been amused that she had to pump her own gas. Mason always took care of that for her when he was around. Still, it wasn't as if she didn't know how.
She stared up at the threatening sky. Getting her own gasoline was one thing. Pumping gas during heavy rain was another. She hurried out of her car, determined to finish the task as fast as she could.
As she bent over the pump, she heard a low whistle.
“Hot damn!” She smiled at the young male voice. She straightened, turned around to pay the bill. The gas station attendant gaped at her.
“Oh. Excuse me, ma'am,” he gulped.
Ma'am.
All right, maybe she did have just a few lines around her eyes. She might have gained five pounds since she got married. Other people looked a lot worse than she did.
Apparently being ma'amed wasn't enough. As Lilli grimly signed the bill, the rain let loose all at once. Within seconds she'd been drenched, insulted and ready to end her vacation right then.
She jumped into the car rather than ask the gas station lout for directions. After all, she knew she was close and she had a good sense of direction.
Her hasty departure came close to really hurting her. The trip from the gas station to the inn turned into a nightmare. Somehow she got lost in the blinding rain. She almost ran off the road two or three times.
When the thunder and lightning began, Lilli would have stopped right then if she thought it would be safer. But she'd been desperate to find some better shelter than her BMW. The tiny sedan shuddered under the pelting rain and gusts of wind.
“I want to stop now!” Lilli heard herself whimper.
Too bad. As best she could tell from her directions, she was miles away from the inn. Miles from anything.
A nearby crash of thunder made her grip the steering wheel even tighter. A brilliant flash of lightning blinded her for a moment. She stomped on the brake, skidding to a stop. A loud crack overhead made her cry out. She thought about how big the trees surrounding her were and how dangerous it would be if one fell on her car.
Then she couldn't think at all. Noise and light combined into a terrifying horror movie. For a long moment everything before her flashed fiery bright. Lilli hid her eyes and whimpered like a baby, but the ball of light still burned behind her eyelids.
Then the thunder and rain and the bright light disappeared.
When Lilli finally opened her eyes, everything had changed. A hint of sun showed itself through the disappearing clouds. The hum
idity dogging her during the last bit of the trip was replaced with a cool breeze. This was a fresh, clean world she was entering, full of possibilities.
Better yet, after all her confusion, the inn was right in front of her, looking more inviting than any place she'd ever seen. Lilli glanced down at the directions. The inn shouldn't be here. She shrugged. Obviously, it was. She must have been disoriented—she hadn't even been able to see the inn during the storm. Thank heaven the tempest had ended!
Thank heaven she had arrived. The inn was beautiful.
Mason might complain because the place was so old. Right now she didn't care about what he thought. It looked perfect to her. Quaint and charming, and almost beckoning for her to enter. She was suddenly wild to see what the interior was like. She could imagine odd nooks and fascinating woodwork, candlelit dinners and charming pictures.
All the things she'd been thinking during the rain had been wrong. This trip was wonderful. She couldn't remember ever feeling happier.
As Lilli walked toward the front steps to the wide porch, someone opened the door. A tall man with alert eyes smiled at her and waved her inside. She liked his face—lined but pleasant. His smile made her feel lighter, freer—even drier. What a great smile!
She hurried toward him. Funny. She almost felt like she was hurrying home.
“Welcome, Lilli.” The man pushed the door so it opened wider yet. “We're so glad you've arrived at last.”
“You're mine, Lilli. Say the words.”
“Make me.”
“I can. You know I can.” His fingers pushed ruthlessly into her and she gasped. Thick and hard, they pressed against the most sensitive spots of her body. Devil! Only he knew how much she loved his fingers pulling at her just that way, so that pleasure was almost pain. She'd make him pay for that knowledge soon—
Thud.
She started at the knock on her bedroom door. Sensations still shuddered over her body from her fantasy. She pushed herself off the bed, a little unsteadily.
Thud.
Lilli peered through the viewer. Her host was there. The greeting he'd given her before made her open the door without hesitation.
“Is everything all right?” he asked as she stood at the threshold.
“Oh, yes. Fine.” Lilli clutched her mirror tightly as she spoke. The man's eyes turned from her to the mirror.
“A nice heirloom there.”
“Yes. It is pretty.”
“Your looking glass must give you pleasure every time you use it.”
How could he know about the strange reflections she saw? Her original visions of serene tea parties had soon disappeared. Sexier, more disturbing—and more pleasurable—images now replaced them.
Lord, she could get hot just thinking about what she and her powerfully built dream lover did together, or at least what she imagined they did. She'd never come so close to being caught before, though sometimes she wondered if Mason objected to her owning the mirror because he sensed the not-quite-fantasies she conjured up with her possession.
Lilli looked up into the innkeeper's wise face and blushed. Oh, God. Could he tell, too?
“Oh, yes. I use my mirror quite a bit. No. That didn't come out right. I'm not really vain, you know. It's just—just—” Lilli heard herself blurt out the words as if she had no will to stop them. Why would this man want to know her reasons for holding a mirror? Even if he did, who would believe the things she almost saw there?
“Yes?” He sounded like he was listening.
To her horror, Lilli heard herself babble on. Why couldn't she control herself? She could still hear the laughter downstairs. She'd hadn't drunk nearly as much as some of the other guests, but she still had this horrible urge to talk about things she'd rather keep private, things no one else could possibly care about or believe. Instead of detailing all the things she envisioned in the reflected image of the mirror, Lilli managed a half-truth.
“I like to make sure I'm still seeing myself properly. Sometimes it's hard to judge your own looks. My husband praises me so much that I know I can't use other people's reactions to be objective. I need to see for myself.”
Shut up, you idiot. Shut. Up. Now he figures you're vain and a maniac. She never told people such things. Let others think she was absorbed by her looks. She wasn't. Her face and figure were valuable commodities and she took proper care of them. They'd gotten her out of poverty and given her Mason. All she really cared about was that Mason continued to be absorbed with how she looked.
“It's good to see things for what they are.” The man nodded and smiled again. “You'd like to arrange that for your life.”
“Absolutely.” Lilli nodded back. “Everyone should.”
They stared at each other. Lilli found she'd now run out of any words at all. Then she caught herself. “Thank you for asking about everything. I'm fine. Good-night.”
That was what I should have said to start with.
She shut the door and moved quickly to the slightly battered looking bureau to put the mirror down. A strange reflection caught her eye as she placed it on the wood surface.
Was she going to see her sexy fantasy man again? She leaned forward, eagerly. No one would catch her this time; no one would make her feel guilty.
For just a moment she thought she saw Mason in the mirror's reflection. How odd. She looked again. This image wasn't of some distant, strangely alluring past. Mason's back was to her but she knew her husband after nineteen years. He held a woman with dark hair. A young woman. One who looked up at him as adoringly as Lilli had when she was that age. One who was almost naked in his arms.
The woman stepped back, laughed, and then pushed her thong off. She slipped her fingers between her pussy lips, stroked herself, and then put her fingers up, slowly, invitingly, to Mason's mouth.
Lilli blinked and the image was gone. Just her own shocked face stared back at her.
“I need to go to bed.” Lilli backed away from the mirror. “I must've had much more than I thought to drink.”
So much for being a happy drunk. She was the type who saw things. Evil things. Where were her other images, the ones of a man she knew she'd care about, one who was fascinated by her, inside and out, no matter what she looked like—
Stupid. She'd just sleep this off, and when she woke up Mason would be in bed next to her and everything would be fine.
She was lucky. Incredibly lucky. She just needed to rest and remember how lucky she was. Fortunately for her, the bed looked inviting and much more comfortable than any place the others downstairs were undoubtedly going to pass out on…
Chapter One
“Wait.”
“Sir.” She didn't make it sound like a question. No, the lady was peeved at not being able to leave.
He looked at the blonde woman before him and got harder. All the while she'd talked, in that odd, rather cool tone of hers, he'd been fighting stingingly hot lust. He kept himself behind the desk to prevent her from seeing the effect she had on him.
He'd told himself he'd get over this schoolboy passion after seeing her again. He'd been wrong. This time was worse than when they'd met for the initial interview.
“I thought things were settled. You want me to wait for—?” Her voice wasn't reproachful, but he imagined reproof in the way she fingered her gloves. She was ready to put them on as soon as he told her good-bye.
He didn't want to.
When she'd picked up her reticule at the end of the interview he'd wanted to sweep her down to the floor and take her then. She'd held out her hand and he'd wanted to place it on his barely controlled erection. He could imagine her cool white fingers struggling to hold his cock—a cock grown bigger and harder than he could remember, just from watching her.
Now he'd asked her to wait and he didn't even know what to tell her. All he knew was he couldn't have her disappear from his office so soon.
“I have another position to offer you. Additional duties, shall we say.”
He was out of his min
d. A sanitarium ought to admit him for what he was about to do.
Harry always put things in proper, discreet order. His daughter knew nothing about his sexual life. He took care that almost no one did. He wasn't one for gracing the society or gossip pages in the newspapers. That meant he kept his family at home, his business at the office and his fucking at his private apartment in the City. After one look at this Lilli, he knew he was going to break those rules for her.
“You don't find me suitable for the one you advertised?” She tucked one lock of hair behind her ear. He itched to do it for her. After he played with her hair, he'd run his hand down her back, press her sweet ass against his cock while he cupped her mound, and grind their bodies together so hard neither would be able to keep from moaning…
“Oh, you're eminently suitable since your references confirm your claims. I agreed that I want to hire you as a chaperone for my daughter on a trial basis. But I've thought of additional duties since we first talked.”
Her chin went up haughtily, but he thought he saw her swallow hard first. Could she be a little frightened? God knows he was. What was she doing to him? “Of course my references backed me up. What else did you have in mind? Sir.”
His mind had nothing to do with what he wanted from her.
“I need a mistress. A woman like you.”
She blinked at him.
The silence stretched out and, inwardly cursing, Harry wondered what kind of idiot would ever conclude an interview with a woman this way. Even the cheapest prostitute would be ready to claw his eyes out.
But he couldn't help what he'd said. None of what he was feeling or what he'd said made sense, but he'd been compelled to ask. Damn his compulsion. If he hadn't been overcome with lust he would have been able to seduce her into bed slowly. Trying gentle charm would never work now that he'd both tipped his hand and sounded like the worst kind of lout to boot. In a few seconds she'd leave and he'd never see her again.