Caleb tensed, “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
Felipe laughed and continued, “Is this her? The girl you have been chasing all over Mexico?” He laughed, “She doesn’t look like so much trouble. Then again, neither did my little Celia, and she is a handful, that one.” He laughed again, but there was a certain twinkle in his eye.
Caleb knew Felipe was very happy with his little Celia. Caleb could only hope little, did not translate into young. Even he had his limits and Rafiq damn well knew them. Then again, he had just walked in on Rafiq committing a rape.
Caleb forced himself to smile. “Yes, this is Kitten. I apologize for the way we are dressed. It was not by choice.”
Felipe’s expression was inquisitive, but Caleb offered no more information. After a few seconds, Felipe continued the conversation. “Her face…your doing?”
Caleb was realizing that Felipe’s sense of etiquette was less than conservative, even familiar which he didn’t approve of at all. He was rather insulted at the man’s insinuation, but also at the audacity of this stranger to ask him such a question. Even if the house belonged to Felipe, as guests, Caleb expected a little more. “No,” he answered coldly. “But I dealt with them.”
Felipe smiled surreptitiously and nodded his approval. “The other slaves are appropriately undressed according to their owner’s wishes.” Caleb smiled stiffly, finding Felipe’s unchecked mirth, and this conversation, somewhat grating. “One of them has a tail! Poor girl has been begging to have it removed, but Mr. B thinks it is too much fun. I have to agree.” He laughed again. “It is not my place, even if I am the host, to tell you how your Kitten should be dressed, but perhaps it would help you both settle in if she were out of those clothes?” His eyes once again landed on Kitten, surprisingly subdued.
Caleb’s ire was high, but he tried to remain respectful in his dissenting opinion. “We are tired. Also, the girl has been beaten very badly, as you can see. She isn’t ready yet, perhaps another time.”
Felipe’s disappointment was obvious, “As you say. Please join us and have some appetizers with wine. I am not sure if Mr. R mentioned it, but I have been making use of the boy that was brought here. I hope you do not mind, but he seemed more…sensitive than the woman he was brought with. You don’t mind, do you?”
Caleb felt heat rush down his spine. Of course, he fucking minded. They were supposed to be his hostages, not a damn party favor for Rafiq, Felipe, or anyone else who wanted to have a go at them. However, Kitten seemed lacking in her thirst for revenge and he’d shed enough blood to last him a while, so why the hell should he care? “Consider him a gift. I only hope he’s worthy of being kept in such luxury.” Caleb tried to keep the sarcasm from his voice and only marginally succeeded.
Felipe smirked. The man was no one’s fool. “You are very kind Mr. C. Please consider me your friend.”
Caleb nodded once as he followed Felipe past his curious guests and toward a set of red, velvet chairs in the corner.
“So you can see, but keep your privacy,” Felipe gestured toward the chairs.
“Thank you,” Caleb offered as humbly as possible, “I’m Caleb. Kitten is painfully aware of my name, so the formality is not necessary on my account.” Caleb had no desire to be called Mister all night.
Felipe looked down at Kitten and smiled. “As you wish, Mr. Caleb,” he said and then stepped away to attend to his other guests.
Caleb took a seat in one of the velvet chairs and stroked Kitten’s hair when she quietly took her place next to him on the floor. She had followed him through the crowd on her hand and knees, carefully guarding her shoulder. Caleb sighed deeply as he stroked her hair, comforting them both. He didn’t want things to be so complicated, but the time for wants had passed.
Abruptly, Caleb heard the tinkling of a bell and a petite Asian girl with raven hair and almond shaped eyes commanded his attention. She crawled very slowly on her hands and knees, but a cursory examination revealed the need for her hesitant movements. The tinkling sound came from the tiny bell attached to the leather collar she wore. In addition to the collar, she wore a silver serving tray on her back, strapped across her midsection, but allowing access to her otherwise naked body. On the tray, tall, thin wine glasses were half filled with white wine.
Caleb knew the game. If she spilled her tray of drinks, she would draw the collective attention of the guests and her master would punish her for their amusement. It was wicked, but relatively benign as far as games went. The young woman’s master didn’t appear to be predisposed to violence. The girl’s tawny skin was pristine.