I rushed to the closet and put on a skimpy black, silk dress that drooped down one shoulder and stopped just below my ass. Then I fluffed my hair, which I’d put waves in that morning, and I reapplied my make-up. I usually went for pink lips, but today I grabbed the red.
Luis gave me the once-over as I approached, fitting the collar around my neck. He led me out until we neared the dining room, then I went to my knees the rest of the way. I sat against the wall with my head down, waiting to be called upon. In my peripheral vision I could see all the others lined against the wall, as well, in their bathing suits. I caught the scent of body oils and chlorine, which made the old longing surface like a swirl of hot sadness.
I was about to attempt a stealthy peek at the table when I heard his voice in the hall. That brogue rumble sent a shiver through me. He was walking with Marco, and they both laughed about something. Happiness and relief overflowed. He was still here.
The two men stopped near me in the doorway and I stilled, holding my breath. Marco was in his slacks, as always, but I could see Mr. Douglas’s legs—the dark hair and tanned skin on his calves. His feet in sandals, which almost made me want to smile. He was wearing shorts like guys I used to know. The cargo kind. Another surge of emotion stirred inside me—emotion for old, familiar things.
Yeah…I definitely needed to be careful. This stranger made me feel way too many things. Things I’d stopped feeling long ago because they weren’t good for me. Things I couldn’t afford to feel.
“Ah, there you are, Se?or Ruiz,” said another patron approaching—a wealthy man from Italy. “I was hoping to propose a trade. My African beauty here for your blonde white girl. Just for the day.”
No… I tensed.
“Actually, Sir, I’ve claimed her for the day,” said Mr. Douglas.
My heart pounded at the sound of his declaration and Marco’s ensuing chuckle.
“Have you, Se?or Douglas?” Marco asked.
“That is,” Mr. Douglas amended in a dangerously calm, low voice. “I wish to claim her. With your permission, of course.”
I couldn’t breathe. I saw the other patron shift his feet and shuffle, maybe crossing his arms.
“My apologies, Se?or Bellini. I had planned to offer her to Se?or Douglas here. Perhaps tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow I leave,” the man said gruffly.
“Ah. Pity.” Marco’s voice was cold, completely lacking said pity. I could tell he wasn’t happy with the slight attitude Mr. Bellini gave him.
The Italian cleared his throat and said, “Very well. Perhaps next time.” Then he went to his place at the table. He kicked his kneeling slave in the hip to make her move so he could sit without having to pull his chair out. I forced myself to look away from the dark-skinned girl and the way she trembled.
Marco bent and gave my collar a gentle tug, bringing me from my sitting position to my hands and knees.
“Angel, you will accompany Se?or Douglas this afternoon and evening. Remain at his side.”
My breaths began to return to normal.
I crawled between the men and followed them to the table, kneeling between them as they sat, and feeling entirely too relieved. My face must have appeared pleased because when I shifted and caught Josef’s eye, he was glaring at me with disapproval through strands of hair, his head tilted down. I quickly looked away.
I wished I could reassure him. I would be careful.
Once again Mr. Douglas fed me more than I usually received. Eating from his hands was so sexy it was almost like foreplay for me. I could feel his eyes watching as his fingers lingered against my lips. And at the end of lunch I didn’t experience my usual growl of hunger pain. I crawled at his side to the sitting room where everyone went to smoke cigarettes and cigars, the far windows open wide to let in a breeze and keep the room from becoming stifling with smoke.
Marco had arranged for entertainment to be brought in, something he often did. This time it was a group of five belly dancers. As they began, Marco motioned Perla to sit on his lap, and several patrons did the same with their slaves. When Mr. Douglas patted his lap I stood and sat between his spread, muscular legs. I put an arm around his neck and leaned into his chest. I sat on mens’ laps all the time. It was an act of ownership for them, not to mention the sexiness of having a woman on their crotch. But like everything else with the Scot, this felt nice. Natural.
Mr. Douglas never looked at me. At one point during the seductive dance he shifted me right over his semi-hardness. His hand trailed up my hip, dipping under the silky material. It remained there, absently petting my skin, his thumb moving back and forth as he watched the women. My mind began to whirl with boyfriend/girlfriend thoughts, and I had to grit my teeth.
Even pretending such things secretly in my head was dangerous. This is what Josef was worried about. It was one thing to enjoy Mr. Douglas physically, and a whole other thing to allow any unsafe thoughts into the mix.
He feels good, I told myself. That’s all.