Odalisque (27 page)

“I haven’t seen Constance since the scatter party,” Mason snapped.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Kai yelled back. “How many times?”

“Never, okay?” Mason grabbed his head, launching into the same weak, pathetic act he always used when he got caught being an ass. “Look, Kai, I’m just not myself right now. I wanted to talk to Constance. Things got out of hand.”

Constance touched Kai’s arm. “Things didn’t get out of hand,” she signed angrily. “
Mason
got out of hand. I told him to stop. That you weren’t here, that it wasn’t right. And I had nothing to do with him calling Bastien. I swear it.”

At those words, Kai turned on Mason. He finally noticed the outline of fingers on his cheek. “Get the fuck out of my house, you fucking jackass. Don’t ever so much as look at her again.”

Mason started to the door, then turned back. “I don’t get it. She’s just an odalisque, right? She’s available for hire. If she’s something more, then fucking say so. But don’t stand there and judge me like you’re better than me. You bought her services. Why can’t I?”

Kai lowered his voice to a near-growl, a second away from totally losing it. “One more time. Don’t even think of touching her again. And you can forget about calling Gaudet about her, because Constance will be your odalisque over my dead body. Now go home to wherever you’re living now, and forget we were ever friends.”

“Wow, really, man? That’s harsh.” Mason turned and stalked to the door. “Fuck you,” he yelled over his shoulder. “Fuck you both.”

When Kai turned around, Constance was crying. Silent rivers of tears. Kai went to her, rubbing her back and pressing his forehead to hers. Constance held herself stiffly in his arms, like she didn’t want to be touched.

Kai pulled back and searched her face. “What did he do to you? Did he hurt you?”

She made a curt sign. “No.”

“I’ll call the police.”

Constance pulled away from him, shaking her head and signing again. “No, seriously. Nothing happened.” She wiped away tears, trying to compose herself. Then she looked at him and started bawling again. “You believe me, don’t you? I never snuck around on you. Not with Mason or anyone else.”

Kai went to get her a tissue. “Yes, I believe you. I don’t know why I even asked. It’s just those…trust issues flaring up again. You know.”

“It would be such a breach of the code,” Constance signed, the white tissue fluttering from her fingertips. It put Kai in mind of a white flag. Surrender.
I give up.

“Yeah, the code,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “We must follow the damn code or God knows what tragedy might befall us.”

“Don’t mock it!” she signed angrily. “I chose this lifestyle. You chose it.” She swiped at her eyes, at the tears still squeezing through. “Why do you mock the code? Because when you do, you know you’re mocking me too!” She turned and ran up the stairs to the odella, with audible, heart-wrenching sobs.

Well, so much for emotional distance. All of this was his fault, of course. She was perfectly happy sticking to the emotionless and static arrangement of “owner” and “odalisque.” He wished he could be happy with that too. It would have made everything so easy. He could have shrugged off Mason’s bid for Constance as an unfortunate faux pas, instead of going apeshit out of his mind with rage. He could have found any answers he needed about her in the code, instead of searching her light green eyes for something deeper.

Ten months ago he’d been dying for a faceless, emotionless sex slave, no strings attached. But now he wanted something else. He wanted Constance Flynn, with all her complexity, charm, and sensuality. He wanted to take her out to dinner. He wanted to romance her. He wanted to sleep next to her through an entire night and wake up with her in his arms. Hell, he wanted to put a fucking ring on her finger. He didn’t want her distance, her censure each time he crossed some nebulous emotional line.

They had to talk.

He climbed the stairs to her odella and considered the closed door. That was a new thing. He could knock, but it wouldn’t do much good. He cracked it open instead.

Constance was reading in bed. She gazed up at him with a completely blank look. No welcome, no anger. No emotion he could recognize.

No offer to serve him.

“Can I come in?” he signed.

She nodded, closing her book. Kai crossed to the saray. He beckoned her to join him with a jerk of his head. His odalisque came at once, without hesitation. Well, this was all in the code, unlike the messy scene downstairs.

She walked through the door in front of him, then turned, waiting for directions. Oh, God, even now he found her so sweet. So womanly and welcoming. He went to her and ran his fingers over the curve of her hips. He loved her softness, her femininity.

He undressed, waving her off when she would have helped him. One gesture and she was on her knees, stroking his balls, bringing his cock to life with her mouth. Such skill. No wonder Mason wanted her. No wonder Mason was fine with throwing away a lifetime of friendship to steal her from under his nose. Kai stopped Constance with a tug on the back of her hair. She looked up at him, sitting back on her heels.

“Could you really go to him?” he signed.

She didn’t ask who Kai referred to. She shrugged and signed, “It doesn’t matter, does it?”

“It matters to me. Yes. Could you have left me and gone to him without…without feeling anything?”

She blinked hard for a moment, her hands still in her lap. Then she said, “I’ll miss you. So yes, I would feel something.”

But what Kai heard was,
Yes, I would go to him.

He pulled her toward the bed, then pushed her onto the white expanse of sheets on her back. He settled over her, between her legs, and pressed the length of his body to hers. He still remembered the first time he’d fucked her here in his house, when she was out of breath from jumping on the bed and he’d pushed her down and taken her so joyfully. It was almost a year ago now. That had been a hello fuck.

This was goodbye.

He just wanted her one last time. He kissed her hard and deep, rolling her nipples between his fingertips. She arched against him, responsive as ever. He slid his cock through the wetness of her arousal and pushed inside her, cradling her.

“Constance,” he said, but she wasn’t looking. Her eyes were closed, her arms stretched over her head. For one horrible moment, he thought he could be anyone. Any owner, any Master. Constance would serve anyone just as she served him. That was the code. He was the cock, she was the cockslave. He tapped her chin, distraught, until she opened her eyes. “Look at me while I’m fucking you.”

She looked right at him, the obedient sex slave. Her lust-fueled grin would have thrilled him a few months ago, but now it made his heart ache. She ran her fingers up his arms to his shoulders, kneading, scratching like a kitten. She was so lovely. He loved her so much.

He pulled away, abruptly, roughly, and sat on the edge of the bed. Constance scrambled up beside him. Her eyes were wide and troubled. His erection was gone, like a dream interrupted.

“I just can’t--” His signs were garbled and choppy. “Constance…do you feel anything at all for me?”

He hated that she pretended to be confused. “Like what?”

“Like anything. Any personal or emotional feeling.”

“I thought you were paying me not to have feelings,” Constance signed. “All I want is to be a good odalisque. I want to follow the code. You signed it--”

“I’m aware that I fucking signed it, Constance. I know! Why can’t you--” Kai rubbed his mouth and shook his head. “Why can’t you just step away from that fucking code for ten seconds and let me see who you really are? What you really feel about me? I see bits and pieces of you and I think I’ll just die if I’m never allowed to see more. But I’m not.” He stood up and over her, a quivering pillar of frustration. He reached for her, the woman he loved, the woman who refused to love him. He pulled her up and held her close. He knew every contour, every curve of her. He’d memorized every gold fleck in her green eyes. He’d internalized her smell, her taste. “God damn you, Constance. I love you. Why are you doing this to me?”

Constance went stiff. “You’re--you’re not supposed to love me,” she signed.

“No shit,” said Kai. “But I don’t know what the hell to do about it now.”

He wanted her so badly. Out of all the things he had, all the things his money could buy, he just wanted this one thing. This one woman. Why this torment, this obsession? Then it hit him.

He’d been here before.

“You know,” he said, looking down at her, “when I was growing up, I was an outcast. Tall and gangly. I was a total nerd, one hundred percent, and I had no friends. I acted too American to fit in with the Indians, and I looked too Indian to fit in with the American kids. School was...difficult.

“Then I met Mason. He got me through, you know. He always had it, the charisma, the personality. I rode his coattails. When we got older, I got women thanks to him. I gained a sense of self-worth. I used my nerd smarts to start a business, and when the success came I pretended I’d expected it all along.” He shook his head. “But I hadn’t. I was so shocked. It was like a dream I was afraid to wake up from. When I met Veronica, I was living in that dream haze. I was flush with success. I couldn’t believe she wanted me, but part of me thought, well, this is what I get for working hard. For making it.
She wants me.
”

He stared off into the distance for a while, utterly still. Then he looked back at her so she could easily read his lips. “Well, you know the rest. She took me for millions. When she dumped me it was like being back in school again, huddled in the corner of the playground, getting kicked in the nuts and taunted with ethnic slurs. And I look at you and think you’re too good to be true too. I wonder when you’re going to kick me in the nuts like she did.” He paused. “But I think maybe you’ve been doing it all along.”

Constance shook her head, flushing. He could actually see the flush move across her skin. She shook her head again more intently.

“No?” asked Kai. “I mean, you knew how I felt about you. You knew it at the Maison, the night we swam in that pool.”

She still shook her head, but it was empty denial.

“And the worst part...the worst part, Constance, is that I know you care for me too. Veronica never did. Somehow, you do. But there’s something more important to you. I don’t know what it is. Money. Security. Whatever it is women like you and my ex-wife want.”

Constance shook her head and pushed at his chest. Her hands came up in a rush of signing. “No! Stop saying that. I’m nothing like her.”

“I think you are.”

“Yes, I want money. I want security. I need money to do the things I want in life. But it has nothing to do with using you--”

Kai shook his head with a bitter laugh. “I think it does. I think it has everything to do with using me.”

“If I really wanted to use you, I’d marry you like Veronica did,” she signed. “I’m trying to protect you! Do you think it’s been easy for me?”

He held up a hand. “Spare me, please. I’m the one who’s biting my tongue every night when I leave you, trying not to say how I feel about you because you might not approve. I’m the one who keeps trying to make you love me--which I’ve done before, Constance. I’ve lived through this once already, and it made me desperately unhappy.”

Desperately unhappy.
Is that what he’d gotten for his million bucks? He thought back on the past few months, the tension between them even when they were in each other’s arms. But he had thought it was just part of the deal.

“Kai…” Constance signed, her eyes pleading. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry if I’ve made you believe-- If I’ve made you feel--taken advantage of.”

Kai put a hand over hers. “No, it’s me,” he signed. “It’s not your fault. But here’s the truth of it: I can’t live like this anymore. I don’t want an odalisque. I wish I’d never heard the word to begin with. I want someone who loves me.”

“But, Kai--”

“Love me, Constance. Trust me. Or go. If I can’t have you, the
real
you, with trust and love and emotion, then I want you to leave.”

Constance threw up her hands in frustration. “Leave? Now? A month early?”

Kai pursed his lips and stared her down. “I want permission to love you. I want a relationship. ”

“But I’m your odalisque! The code--”

“Fuck the code! Choose! Your precious fucking code or me!”

Constance’s signs were crisp and angry. “It’s not fair of you to ask that. We signed a contract.”

“Fuck the contract. You need to choose.”

She signed, “Fine. If that’s what you want.”

Kai waited, his expression resolute, as she considered his ultimatum. Long seconds ticked by.
Every gold fleck
, he thought to himself.
I know those eyes like I know my own eyes. Come on, Constance. Take a chance.

But she pulled away from him. “I’m not my mother,” she signed, her nostrils flaring and her mouth pinched. “I won’t beg to stay where I’m not wanted, where I don’t measure up. Not in this lifetime. Not ever.”

And with those parting words, she stalked out of the room, leaving him alone with his misery and suffocating regret.

Constance fell into a kind of trance as she flew over the ocean. Memories crowded in, all the wretched occasions when her mother had been thrown out. Thank God Constance didn’t have any kids forced to pack their bags, as she had, listening to her mother’s tears, her pathetic pleas for another chance…

Constance had no intention of pleading. No fucking way.

She made it almost halfway across the Atlantic before her outraged bravado turned to tears. Her blind resolve to be immovable and unemotional melted away, leaving her to look back on the day’s events in horror. What on earth had she done? How stupid and shortsighted was she? All the love she’d buried inside overwhelmed her, and for the first time, she let herself dwell on all she’d given up. She’d made such a huge mistake, not allowing herself to love Kai.

The staid Swedish businessman next to her hunched to the side, as if her unchecked grief might be contagious. Constance pulled a blanket over her face and cried with bitter regret until her chest ached and her eyes burned. Then she slept for a while. When she woke up, she found her armor had returned. She would not be her mother. Ever. She would not give a man power over her, especially the power of love. She wouldn’t beg to stay where she wasn’t wanted, where she wasn’t accepted on her terms. She wouldn’t compromise her long-sought goals for some ephemeral romantic illusion. She’d done
all
of this to gain security and independence, and she sure as hell wasn’t sacrificing that now.