by Kathryn Moon
"You may lose him," Magdalena said softly, and I looked up at her, wiping the water from my eyes.
"Amon? Or Ezra?" I asked, frowning at the thought of not getting to keep the company of either man. I liked Ezra a little better at the moment, but I couldn't really blame Amon for being upset—just a bit for his poor timing.
Magdalena frowned, and her gaze went distant on the tiles behind me. "I'm not sure," she said slowly, brow furrowing. I waited for more, but she only shook herself and glanced down at me again. "Finish up, dress, and come down to my office. We'll speak with them there. Booker will escort you."
I worried my lip between my teeth as Magdalena left me in the deep tub alone. I could still feel the stretch and sting Ezra had left in me, the warm throb of recent pleasure, and more than anything, I wanted him here in the water with me. Prior to Rooksgrave, I'd never had much occasion for enjoying the company of my bed partners after the act. My night with Dr. Underwood, and those with Auguste, had already made a difference.
Now it wasn't just sex I was always craving, but affection.
"Booker?" I called softly.
I leaned on the ledge of the tub, smiling as Booker opened the door and stepped inside without any apparent shyness. I rose up from the water slowly, skin goosebumping with the chill and the attention of Booker's stare following the curves of my body. I shivered, and I wasn't sure if the cause was my lovely, massive golem or the temperature.
Booker turned away from me, moving to the brick wall where the soft towels waited on hooks. The brick wall was the same that surrounded the fireplace in my room, and it kept my towels warm. I sighed as I stepped out onto the woven rug, curling my toes as Booker wrapped the fabric around my shoulders. Firm hands rubbed through, caressing my skin, and I watched his smooth expression as he studiously went about the work of drying me off.
His knee touched the floor with a dulled thunk, and I slid my arms up as he dragged the towel down, focusing on my hips and legs. I was aroused, all but swooning into his touch, but also soothed. As far as I could tell, Booker wasn't being intentionally erotic, just thorough. Touch was my weakness, and Booker's broad shoulders and dense muscles didn't hurt either.
His hands stroked down to my ankles, taking the towel with them, and I rested a hand on his shoulder to balance as he lifted a foot, diligently wiping between each toe. My skin was flushed and warm, my breath a little deeper than before, but I was calm too.
"Thank you," I said, resisting the urge to press closer and help myself to Booker's large form.
Booker stood, leaving the towel rumpled on the floor. He had a slight curl on his full mouth, and it was that smile I was focused on and not his fingers. They swiped lightly over my sex as he rose to his full height, and my breath caught at the cool, smooth touch. It was solid, firm, and my clit pulsed in response, my eyes growing wide.
"Dress," he rumbled, stepping back.
I gaped at his back as he left the bathroom.
Booker let me hold his hand as he escorted me down to Magdalena's office. I knew the moment I stepped inside where Ezra was seated, because it was precisely where Amon fixed an angry, amber glinted stare at the ledge of the window. His wings and tail seemed to be hidden, but I thought I caught a hint of the feline fur under his skin when it hit the light. There was a rustle of fabric by the window, Ezra rising, but Magdalena clucked, and I heard Ezra huff.
"Amon," I said, waiting for the sphinx's eyes to flick to me, some of the temper fading in their depths. "I'm sorry for the shock you must've felt. I wasn't expecting you, and I…"
"I don't blame you, little star," Amon said, but there was a press to his full mouth that I knew meant I wasn't fully forgiven.
"You should," I said and raised a hand toward the empty space by the window where Ezra was stirring again. "I made a choice, and I knew it was one that would lead to people being disappointed in me. I… Ezra…"
"Don't mind my feelings, puisín," Ezra muttered.
I winced and took a deep breath, staring blindly in his direction before turning back to Amon, lifting my chin to meet his gaze. "I enjoyed myself. I usually do with this sort of thing. I don't want to disappoint you or Magdalena, but I…I don't regret what I did."
The room was quiet in response for a moment, and then Amon's eyes narrowed at me, Magdalena took a deep breath, and there was a soft touch of fingertips grazing up the back of my hand toward my wrist. Ezra's touch, warm and what I'd been missing since he'd thrown himself from the bed.
"I see," Amon said, frowning and head tipping. "And if this wastrel had been your client and I had been the interloper?"
Heat rose to my cheeks as I recalled the dream I'd shared with Amon, how I had begged for him to taste me.
"I'm sure I would've done the same thing," I said.
Ezra only chucked, and surprisingly, Amon's lips twitched.
"This doesn't change the circumstances, Mr. MacKenna. You are not a member of Rooksgrave Manor—"
"But—" Ezra and I both said at the same time.
"I will look into the matter of your application," Magdalena continued, arching an eyebrow. "As well as this inconvenient invisibility. If you agree to keep out of the manor in the meantime, and I do include the grounds in this, I will do my utmost to offer you our membership as well as place you with Esther."
"Do you not require her clients' agreement in this?" Amon barked, head whipping and dark hair catching the light with the movement.
Magdalena's shoulders squared in her seat as she looked up at Amon. "I do. She only has a formal arrangement with Auguste Thibodeaux at the moment. You've barely had your introduction, Amon."
Amon stiffened, and I thought I caught a flush of anger or shame in his cheeks.
"As you know, the final decisions always rest in the hands of my ladies," Magdalena said primly, catching my eye.
My chest was tight, my blush hot on my cheeks. It felt a little ridiculous to be called a lady in this moment. In spite of the embarrassment and discomfort I'd left Magdalena in, she'd supported me and my right to choose, even in the face of a man like Amon.
"Now, Mr. MacKenna, I think it would be best if you were escorted off the premises for the time being, and we gave Esther and Amon a moment to themselves. Booker, if you would be so kind?"
Booker, my steady shadow, stepped out and reached out a hand in Ezra's direction, although it was clear he had no clear sense of where the man was until there was a soft thump against his palm and it closed.
"I'll see you soon, puisín," Ezra whispered, lips brushing my cheek as Magdalena stood from her seat.
Amon snarled and glared in the invisible man's direction, hands fisted at his own sides. He tracked the movement of the three as they left the room, and I fidgeted in place, not certain what I wanted to say or even if I still wanted to be here with this man.
"I am sorry," I said.
"For getting caught," Amon bit out.
I couldn't deny that, and I ducked my head. "For upsetting you too."
Amon sighed and stepped closer to me, his hands loosening at his side. He smelled fragrant, spicy and heady, and he looked entirely out of place in Magdalena's cluttered, homey office. There was a shimmer around him, the haze of sunlight in the desert, even now that we were here in this dreary, cold setting.
"Please, little star, look at me," Amon said gently, at last sounding like the man I'd met in my dream.
I was mid breath as I lifted my head, and it froze in my lungs abruptly. Amon was exquisite, and his gaze was warm on my face. I wanted to curl into him, erase the events of the past hour, and pick up where we'd left off in my dream.
"Why would you waste your time with a man like that, when I am here to treat you like a queen, little star?" Amon asked.
His tone was syrupy and smooth, the heat of his stare burning through me, but the words themselves made me frown. I blinked, clearing away some of the daze of attraction, and puzzled over the question.
Magdalena had agreed that I'd made a mess of
things, but she hadn't said I'd really done anything wrong. Amon had been the one who'd surprised me and then been angry to find me in bed with someone. I wasn't blameless, I knew that. And maybe Ezra was just a scoundrel, but…
"Because I'm not a queen. I'm just a girl who loves fucking," I said, the words plain and awkward in response to his romantic tone.
He made a soft sound between choking and laughing, and a hand reached up between us to cup my jaw. "You are a great deal more than that."
I frowned at being corrected, but Amon leaned forward and kissed the spot between my eyebrows, surrounding me in the heat and rich flavor of himself.
"I will…return tomorrow. We can begin anew then," Amon said, full lips brushing against my brow. So settled and sure. It was tempting to go along with him for the sake of it, and I found myself nodding as he drew away.
Amon had already left by the time Booker and Magdalena returned. I told them of Amon's plans and Magdalena nodded.
"I noted the determination and pride in him when I was looking for his match. He suits with the others, but if you have any doubts, you needn't keep him," she said, watching me.
I did have doubts, but they had more to do with myself. "Are you sure I'm the right sort of girl for this place?"
Magdalena stopped still, hands frozen on her waist and eyebrows hitching higher. "Darling, I'm not sure there's ever been a girl better suited to this manor."
"But—"
Magdalena waved her hands. "I didn't take my wards faltering into account, and therefore couldn't predict the splash Mr. MacKenna created amongst your clients. I knew you would accept any gentleman worthy of your pleasure, so I was more focused on how they would fit together. This creates a kind of puzzle, but it can be solved. For now, I have wards to address."
"They are failing then?" I asked.
"Fraying, at the very least," she admitted with a scowl.
"And Ezra is…"
Magdalena's lips pursed sympathetically. "He won't be back until I can sort the matter of his membership out. I'm sorry."
I nodded, but the news made me feel a little queasy too. The whole event was so…abrupt, and in spite of my bath, I was starting to feel a little dirty in the aftermath.
"Why don't you go upstairs and get some rest, darling? As Amon said, we can begin anew tomorrow."
Magdalena was already digging through the odd assortment of supplies littered around her office. I curtsied out of habit, and Booker was there at my back as I turned through the halls for the stairs that would take me back up to my bedroom.
The sheets were still tangled in my room when I arrived, and they smelled of campfire and sex. My lower lip wobbled as I stared at the spot where I'd fucked Ezra. Ezra who'd been so swiftly escorted out of my presence with no clear idea of when I might see—I snorted at that thought and corrected myself—meet him again.
Booker remained outside the door. He'd been charged with protecting me, but now we knew the presence in my room had only been Ezra. I was tempted to drag Booker in with me anyway, to take comfort from him now that I'd been denied it elsewhere.
Exactly what got you into this mess in the first place, I thought, lips twisting in frustration. I shut the door on the hall and resolved to keep only my own company for the rest of the day.
Chapter Nine
A Lesson in Restraint
“Esther. Esther, wake up."
I groaned and rolled over, eyes wincing open to the glare of dawn light cutting through my open curtains. A shadow in front of me moved, and it was Magdalena by my bed, looking equally irritated to be awake.
"Whussit?" I mumbled into my pillow. I'd barely slept the night before, pacing around my small room. Tossing in bed to the sounds of the manor's evening revelry.
"Amon," Magdalena bit out.
I sat up, still not wholly awake, and blinked.
"Sphinxes are morning people," she added with great disgust.
"He's here?" I asked, looking to the door.
Magdalena nodded. "And he brought you this."
It was another garment box, wrapped in thick black paper, waiting for me at the foot of my bed as I stared stupidly back at it.
"He wants you to take breakfast with him."
My stomach was feeling empty. Booker had brought me a tray the night before, but I hadn't made much progress with it, too busy arguing with myself, with Ezra, and with Amon, all in my own head.
"And as soon as I leave you with him, I will be able to return to my own bed," Magdalena snapped.
I laughed, surprising myself. In some respects, Magdalena was like my employer, but in others, she felt more like a peer or a sister even, stern and teasing all at once. I scrambled up and out of my bed covers to unfold the paper from the box. At first, what was inside was unrecognizable to me, although Magdalena made a delighted sound at the sight. There was delicate amber and metallic beading, arranged in a kind of net, and a sheer blue gauze beneath it. It took me a moment of staring before I found the deep V of the collar and realized what I was holding.
The dress inside was a shift, see-through and ornate with the patterned beading, and there were no elaborate buttons, just two thin ties to fasten it at my shoulders.
"Where's the rest of it?" I asked, the embers of my bedroom fire glowing through the dress.
"You don't have to wear it, but that's very traditional for the upper class of ancient Egypt," Magdalena said, running her thumb down a line of beads.
I am here to treat you like a queen. Amon's words echoed in my head, and a defiant voice in my head considered refusing the dress, even going to him in my old clothing from before Rooksgrave, but I'd certainly already done enough to insult my sphinx as it was. He was being generous, and I shouldn't assume it was any less of a sincere gesture than the dress from Dr. Underwood.
"Seems a funny thing to wear to breakfast," I said, but I rested it down on the bed and started to undress.
Magdalena helped me fasten the ties so the dress hung straight, and I was surprised to find that the beaded shell seemed to conform to my own curves, holding the blue gauze fabric in place. There was a slit up to mid-thigh in the beading, allowing my legs easy movement. My nipples were teased by the scratch of the embroidery, and there was no argument that a dress like this belonged in a much warmer climate than Rooksgrave's.
"He's waiting in a private room for you. Let's get you there before you freeze," Magdalena said.
I wanted to wrap up in a blanket, but I was afraid of snagging or tearing the delicate garment, and there was no one out and about in the manor this early in the morning.
Booker studied me with that faint smile of his as I stepped out of my bedroom, but he didn't say a word and it was Magdalena that led the way.
"Why not just take breakfast in my room?" I asked.
"The sun was barely up, darling, I didn't ask questions," Magdalena said as we headed down to the first floor.
Auguste had invited me to a meal for our first meeting too, but I had a feeling this one with Amon would be very different.
He had chosen a small room that overlooked the loch, with large windows and the slowly rising sun spilling in and over the empty table. There was a sideboard with a buffet of foods, but there wasn't a single teacup or spoon on the table, and there was only a single seat at the head of the table. Did sphinxes also not eat? Was he going to feed me like Auguste? Amon was standing at the windows with his back to us, hair shining with a red and orange halo of sunlight glowing like fire in black coals, dark tail swishing against the floor, peeking out from beneath his long jacket.
"Booker will be outside," Magdalena said. "Call his name if you need anything."
I nodded, but my eyes were fixed to Amon's back. He wasn't quite in fashion, some mix of what I suspected was his traditional clothing compromised with the warmer western style necessary in this area. He turned his head just enough for his eyes to find me, and they flared with golden light.
Amon murmured something in an unfamiliar tongue and then a
dded, "Exquisite."
A hand reached out, and fastened by his stare—by the invitation waiting in their depths—I forgot about Magdalena and Booker and even the events of the day before.
"Come here, my star," Amon said, words rough.
The dress whispered around me as I walked, and Amon's eyes trailed over every inch, leaving sparks of heat in their wake. Whatever hesitance I'd sensed between us yesterday was now evaporated. Perhaps I was still half asleep, or perhaps Amon had the ability to hypnotize me with his stare. I moved directly to him as if he were reeling me in. And I knew exactly where the hook was. It was pounding in my core, that pesky arousal I could never resist, begging for touch and attention and making me dewy between my thighs.
Amon's hands clasped around my waist, one smoothing over my hip and down to cup my ass in his grip. He pulled me closer until my breasts were pressed against his chest, stimulated by the beads. My head had to fall back on my neck to meet his dark gaze, and the hooded look he wore shot right down to that begging part of me.
"I'm sorry for my temper yesterday," Amon said, eyes shifting between mine.
"I'm sorry—"
"Shh, you made your apologies." Amon turned slightly and my breath hitched. He pressed a thigh between my own and watched as I squirmed closer, the beading creating fascinating friction against my bare sex. His gaze followed my tongue as it flicked out to wet my bottom lip. I wanted to rub myself against him, explore the sensations the dress had to offer. Amon's hand started to rub over my ass and my eyes fell shut, hips rocking, chasing the dull scratch of beading and the pressure of his body against mine.
"That's it, little star," Amon whispered. My hands were clutching into the thick velvet of his coat. There was no fire in the room and the air was cool, but Amon provided enough heat, and the contrast between my front where I was surrounded by him and my back left open to the chill was wonderful.
"I spent the night thinking of what you said to me." My eyes opened again at his words, and I found a thin crease between his eyes. "Arrangements like the ones that exist in this house come with certain expectations."