Who Wants to Be a Sex Goddess?

by Gemma Bruce

  No. She’d take the morning off and come up with a plan of her own, since Dillon wasn’t going to “share.”

  She was ravenous by lunchtime. She hadn’t come up with a plan. It was hard to think when you were angry and depressed. Damn Dillon. No, it was her own fault. When would she ever learn.

  She passed the yard crew on her way to the pool. They stopped and smiled at her, then went back to work. At least someone was happy this morning. Well, why not, there would always be grass to cut. Talk about job security.

  Evelyn, Loubelle, and Jeannie were sitting at their usual table. Louis was handing around iced teas. Andy sat down and ordered coffee. “Sure thing.” Louis trotted off toward the cabana. Jeannie lowered her sunglasses to look at Andy. “Well?” Loubelle pulled her chair closer. Evelyn leaned forward on her elbows. “Well,” said Andy.

  ———

  Dillon had just left Dr. Bliss’s office, feeling okay about how his debriefing had gone, when Katherine Dane stepped out of her office.

  “Dillon, a word if I might.”

  Now what? he wondered as he followed her inside. Surely she didn’t want to know about his night with Andy. Well, she’d be disappointed if she did. He’d already told Fiona Bliss all he intended to say.

  “Have a seat.” Dillon sat down. The business manager sat on the edge of her desk. “Dr. Bliss told me that you were scheduled for the Bower of Bliss last night with Ariadne.” Dillon tipped his head, waiting to see where this was going. “Of course, whatever happened is between you and Ariadne and Dr. Bliss. However.” She paused, looked thoughtful. “Did everything go smoothly?” Not the word he would have chosen. “Fine,” he said. “It went fine.”

  “Good. I feel so much better knowing that. I’ve been a little concerned about her.” Dillon quirked an eyebrow. “Nothing specific, you understand. The goddess program is a pioneering venture. It involves new ways of approaching one’s life and can be a very powerful force in a woman’s sense of self. It can also be a bit frightening.”

  Not to mention fatal if you’re a rich heiress, added Dillon to himself. Andy had said that her aunt wasn’t an heiress, but he hadn’t thought to ask Andy about her own finances.

  “Unfortunately, in a few extreme cases, it can be threatening. In a person like Ariadne, whose self-esteem is so skewed to reality, there’s always the danger that she might be overwhelmed by the changes she’s going through.”

  Was Dane worried about Andy in light of Imogene South-waite’s apparent accident? Or had she picked up on Andy’s subterfuge and was reading it as aberrant behavior. He did a quick mental shuffling of everything he knew about Katherine Dane. Not a lot, he realized. The background checks had been cursory at best. Of course, if they didn’t expect him to find anything, they wouldn’t have wasted the man hours, would they? “I didn’t know that you were a psychologist.”

  “Yes, in addition to my business credentials, I also have a degree in clinical psychology. All the staff are trained in some area of psychology. Even Hans has a sociology background in addition to certificates in Swedish massage and fitness.”

  As well as being an ex-marine, added Dillon. And the head of your security force.

  “We are here to help women, guide them, not set them adrift.”

  “Ariadne seems fine to me,” said Dillon.

  “Yes, she does—on the surface. But I’ve talked to her several times because of certain anomalies I recognized. I asked her to join my meditation class in the hope that it will help her to stay centered during this turbulent time. And well, to be honest. It gives me a chance to pay particular attention to her.”

  Dane stood up. “I just wanted to apprise you of my assessment, and ask you to be alert to any change in her behavior. Depression, thoughts of suicide—”

  “She seems perfectly fine,” he said. “Dr. Bliss didn’t seem concerned.”

  Katherine gave him one of those goddess smiles. “Fiona is the conceptualist, the dreamer, the driving force behind the program. It’s my responsibility to make sure it runs smoothly. And that everyone is being cared for properly.”

  “I see,” said Dillon, repressing a shudder. She made Terra Bliss sound like an insane asylum.

  “Excellent. Well, possibly no cause for alarm. But we must be vigilant.”

  He stood up. “I certainly will be. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to Ariadne.”

  For a second, something kindled in her eyes, then was gone. She stood up. “I was sure you would understand. Well, I didn’t mean to keep you from your duties.”

  Dillon left her office, wondering what had really been the purpose of that meeting. Because he had a feeling that it all tied up into a nice little conspiracy-to-commit package.

  He’d be vigilant all right. He didn’t plan to take his eyes off of Andy for a minute, and if any one of them tried to hurt her, he’d come down on them so fast and hard, they wouldn’t know what hit them.

  ———

  “This is delicious,” said Andy, spearing a succulent piece of crab from her salad. “You were right, Evelyn, this is the best. And I’m starving.”

  “All that exercise,” Jeannie said and waggled her eyebrows.

  “It sounds like it was a lovely evening,” said Evelyn. “I’m so glad you enjoyed yourself. We weren’t quite sure—”

  “Damn him,” said Jeannie. “That’s the second time I’ve seen him talking to that Gloria Hollander.”

  Everyone looked across the pool. A slender woman with platinum shag hair was stretched out on one of the chaises. Demetri was leaning over her.

  “I’m sure he’s just being polite,” said Loubelle. “You know how some of these women are.”

  “I do,” agreed Jeannie. “I’m one of them. And I don’t plan on sharing my slave with anyone. I have a good mind to go give her a piece of my mind.”

  “Now, Jeannie, don’t do anything rash,” said Evelyn. “See. He’s leaving.”

  “Well, if he expects me to keep putting out—”

  Loubelle tittered, then covered her mouth with her napkin.

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  Loubelle shook her head behind the napkin.

  Evelyn frowned. “You haven’t been giving him any more presents, have you?”

  “Just a few trinkets here and there. But if he wants it to continue, me and him are gonna have to have us a little chat.”

  Andy was glad to finally have the subject move away from her and Dillon, but she didn’t like the look in Jeannie’s eye. As far as Andy could tell, Demetri was an arrogant, deceitful ass. If Jeannie was getting too wrapped up in him, she was bound to be hurt.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t give him anything else,” said Loubelle. “It is against the rules.”

  “Oh, rules, smules. I make my own. Nobody’s complaining as long as I keep my money pouring in.”

  Andy’s fork stopped halfway to her mouth as a surge of apprehension rushed through her. Another rich heiress who was pouring her money into Terra Bliss. She’d paid to keep them from firing Demetri. What else had she paid for? Was she in danger? Should Andy warn her?

  But how could she without giving herself away, and without possibly putting Jeannie at risk.

  She would tell Dillon. And then another thought struck her. “Jeannie, were you ever in Katherine’s meditation group?”

  “I went once, but it just made me feel all fuzzy-brained, so I dropped out. I’m here to have fun, not get enlightened.” Her face lit up and she broke into a grin. “Why, here he comes, my hunky slave, looking good enough to eat. I guess he was just being polite.”

  ———

  An hour later Andy was sitting in Dr. Bliss’s office, while the high priestess beamed across the coffee table at her.

  “I’m so glad you enjoyed your time with Dillon in the Bower of Bliss. I had a feeling that you were ready to ascend to the next level of empowerment. And after Carmen’s enthusiastic report of your breakthrough in her workshop, I decided to put it to the test. We’re very pro
ud of you, Ariadne. This is what my work is about. Seeing women take control of their life, in work and in play. Demanding pleasure as well as being expected to give it. I hope you’re as pleased as we are.”

  Overwhelmed was more like it. The high priestess was coming on strong. She seemed genuinely sincere. And the weird thing was, Andy was beginning to feel the same way, herself. She liked the doctor. It was hard to picture her as a murderer. Now that she thought about it, everyone here was nice, with the possible exception of Carmen and Jane toward each other. And they were nice to everybody else. The only staff member that even looked as if he might be a killer was Hans, the masseur, but everyone said he was a sweetheart. So many nice people all in one place. Kind of like The Stepford Wives meet Helen of Troy.

  “You are happy here, Ariadne?”

  Perfect opening. “Yes. Everyone must love it here.”

  “Why, thank you.”

  “Though . . .”

  A crease appeared between the doctor’s eyebrows. “Yes?”

  “I guess it might not be to some people’s taste.”

  “Not everyone is ready to take charge of their destiny.”

  “Yes. Well. What happens to those people? Do they get to leave if it doesn’t agree with them?”

  Dr. Bliss took a second to answer. “If they truly aren’t happy, of course they can leave. However, they are not allowed to return until the next session. I hope you’re not contemplating leaving us.”

  “Oh, no,” said Andy.

  “Good.” The smile was back.

  “Do many people leave?” She knew she was pushing it, but she didn’t think she’d have another opportunity to talk to the doctor so intimately.

  “Not many.” Dr. Bliss was watching her intently. “Why do you ask?”

  “Oh, no reason.”

  “Are you feeling a little homesick? When you leave your old life behind, it’s only natural that you should feel some ambivalence, a sense of loss even. But that’s exactly why we insist on a retreat environment, to support each other as we slough off our old lives, our old habits. What you’re feeling is a normal reaction to growth. It will soon pass.”

  Dr. Bliss rose from the wing chair like Aphrodite rising from the sea. Pretty impressive. “Remember. We’re all here to support each other.”

  “Well, thank you,” Andy said and took her leave.

  She considered looking for Dillon. Compare notes. But on second thought, what did she have to tell him? That Jeannie was an heiress. That was no secret. That Imogene Southwaite and Mac had also been in Katherine’s meditation group. That Jeannie had joined for one day before quitting. Jeannie was still alive. And hopefully, so was Aunt Mac. The meditation group was a pretty slim thread. Not enough to make him realize that he needed her help.

  “How’d it go?”

  She jumped. “Jesus, Dillon. Don’t creep up on me that way.”

  “I didn’t creep. You just weren’t paying attention. So how did the debriefing go?”

  “All right, I guess. I told her a fun time was had by all. Then I asked her if people could leave of their own free will. And she said yes.”

  “You what?” The words exploded from him, and before she knew it, she was being propelled out of the building and onto the lawn.

  They didn’t stop until they came to the Temple of Venus. Dillon pushed her through the archway and onto the hard marble bench. Then he turned on her. “Are you crazy?”

  “All I did was ask a few innocent questions.”

  “Christ.” He pushed his fingers through his hair, a gesture she was coming to dread. “No more questions. Do you understand? Don’t talk to anybody. Not even the other trainees.”

  “Aw shucks, Dillon, I didn’t know you cared.”

  “Well, I do. And I don’t want you to be hurt or worse.”

  “You do?”

  “Do what?”

  “Care about me?”

  “Of course I do. And don’t you dare say, ‘Aw shucks,’ or I’ll brain you myself.” She smiled up at him. “You say the most romantic things.” The anger seemed to seep out of him, and he sank onto the bench beside her. “I know you’re capable of taking care of yourself. But damn it, Andy, this isn’t a movie; you don’t get more than one take. You’re being watched. So no more going to the lake. Or anywhere you don’t belong. Katherine Dane called me in the hall to tell me that you’re—” He hesitated, uncertain of how much to reveal.

  “I’m what?”

  “She’s worried about your emotional state.”

  “Just because I keep falling asleep in her meditation group?

  Jeez.”

  “No. It may be because she suspects you of being something that you aren’t. She’s a psychologist, after all. But I keep thinking they’re setting you up. I just can’t figure out what or when or where. So don’t go anywhere alone. Especially don’t attempt to go over the wall again. And tonight, you stay by my side.”

  “Tonight?”

  “The bacchanalia.”

  “I’d forgotten about that. Pigs on spits and wild reveling. Oh, boy.” She stood up. “Gee, look at the time. I’d better go iron my toga.” Dillon gritted his teeth. “Ariadne.”

  “You know, Dillon. You were right. It’s so much easier working alone.” She heard him growl as she jogged up the hill toward home.

  Chapter 19

  The first thing Andy smelled when she reached the bacchanalia was roasting pork. It took only a quick look around to find the fire, the spit and, yes, the whole pig turning above the flames. Someone had stuck a wreath on its head. Several attendants stood close by, ostensibly overseeing the cooking, but who were paying more attention to their cans of beer.

  Andy pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders. The weather had turned cooler, and a piece of woolen fabric with directions for wearing it had magically appeared in her cabin that afternoon.

  She was glad of it, since she didn’t have to do the buttoned-shirt thing. She wasn’t the only one feeling the cold. Everyone, including the attendants, were wearing similar shawls or cloaks thrown around their shoulders. A few women had opted for tights beneath their robes.

  She wandered through the crowd, looking for her friends and trying to avoid Dillon. She was feeling a little miffed at him for that macho thing he’d hit her with before they parted earlier. “Tonight, you stay by my side.” Like she couldn’t take care of herself. Of course, she supposed it was nice for a man to think she needed his protection. Even if she wasn’t a part of his plan.

  Torches were set up around the pool area, and they cast uneven shadows over the columned amphitheater where a bar and buffet tables were set up. Bowls of flaming oil floated on the swimming pool. And at each end, large birdbath-looking things held more fire and gave off the sickly odor of incense. It was warmer in the lit area, not just from all those flames, but from giant uber space heaters, camouflaged by curtains of flowing gauze.

  Attendants and goddesses mingled around the pool, standing in groups or lounging in chaises.

  The whole effect created an atmosphere somewhere between a Roman orgy and a suburban cocktail party.

  Evelyn and Loubelle were seated with Rusty and Louis at their usual table, making serious headway through a platter of hors d’oeuvres and a pitcher of what looked like margaritas. Jeannie was conspicuously absent.

  “Gone to the ladies’ room,” said Loubelle, when Andy asked where she was.

  A burst of laughter rose from across the pool. Andy turned to see Demetri surrounded by a group of younger women. She was glad Jeannie wasn’t here to see. Didn’t they have some rules about flirting with other people’s slaves? And what had happened to the attentive, unctuous ape on whom Jeannie had lavished presents.

  “She’s not going to be happy about that,” said Evelyn.

  “I think I’ll just go remind him of his duties,” Rusty said and stood up.

  Loubelle grabbed his wrist. “You most certainly will not. He’s a spiteful man and I want you to stay away from him.
”

  Rusty patted her hand, then eased his wrist free. “I’ll keep my distance. But someone needs to bring him to heel.”

  “I’ll go, too,” said Louis and hurried after him.

  “Fine young men,” said Loubelle. “And so considerate. You don’t find many boys with moral fiber like that these days.” She sighed. “Still, I wish they’d stay away from him. Rusty reminds me of my grandson.”

  Andy was thankful for that. She somehow couldn’t imagine Loubelle and Rusty in the throes of hot sex. Though she supposed that was what this retreat was about. Breaking down those kinds of preconceptions. If Loubelle wanted to have hot sex with Rusty, far be it from her to make judgments.

  “Oh, thank goodness,” said Loubelle. “He’s stopped to tell JoJo. He’ll see that Demetri tows the line.”

  “What line?” asked Jeannie, who’d come up behind them. She settled herself at the table and looked at the others.

  “Nothing,” said Loubelle, but her voice was a dead giveaway. Jeannie searched the crowd, zeroed in on Demetri, and scowled. “That little snake in the grass. And to think I forked out a bundle to keep him employed.” Her lip quivered, but Andy couldn’t tell if it was from anger or from trying not to cry.

  Andy felt for her. How many times had she watched someone she’d just been with move on to greener pastures. And she knew there was nothing she could say or do to make Jeannie feel better.

  “Men can be shits,” she said.

  Jeannie’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell me you and the panther are on the outs. Honey, I should have insisted on keeping him myself. He, at least, doesn’t make a fool of you in front of the whole camp.”

  No, thought Andy, just in private.

  “And speak of the devil. Yoo-hoo. Dillon, over here.”

  Andy tried not to look, because each time he came near her, her heart did a little hop, skip, and flip that told her she was getting too involved. Which was stupid. Because before long, Dillon would be just another notch on her SAG card.

  He was wearing a cloak, thrown over one shoulder and secured by a large circular pin. The other shoulder was bare— and incredibly enticing. She wiped her hand across her mouth to make sure she wasn’t drooling.