Werewulf Journals 3: Hungry Pleasures (18 page)

Maybe the joy she’d felt at being wanted by Pavel, the multiple tension-loosening orgasms he’d given, her had staved off her cyclic descent into self-hatred. If so, this unprecedented idyll probably wouldn’t last much longer.

Her heart did a sorrowful flip-flop as she watched his deceptively slim fingers gripping the sides of the paper, ruffling it as he turned the pages with quiet efficiency. She shivered, remembering those strong hands on her -- in her the night they’d made love. Oh, excuse me, that must have been the night we fucked,’cause if it that was love, it would have happened again -- right? Right!

She pushed her lunch around on her plate, trying to make it look like she’d eaten something. There were no peas or carrots this time, and everything smelled delicious, but she couldn’t work up a real appetite. Unhappiness kept leaching it away. At this rate, she’d have no problem losing her targeted weight for the week.

With an inward sigh, Kaila pondered the looming anniversary with dread, when she

should have been looking forward to the joyful culmination of her first week. How was she expected to celebrate when the only person she wanted was Pavel? She cringed at the

thought of his servicing her out of duty, rather than his own choice.

Once again she questioned, as she had every day since that first, what she’d done or left undone to make him discard her. Had he banished her from his room because she hadn’t

satisfied him? He’d certainly seemed satiated after the fourth time, but she had no way of knowing. If he’d truly been satisfied, would he have needed the other three times? Wouldn’t the first have been enough?

Hell, I warned him I’d never done that before, but I’m willing to learn, to do whatever he wants… Her thoughts chaotic, Kaila ducked her head and surreptitiously wiped away a tear. Fighting for control, she forced down the flood threatening to overflow her eyes. The last thing she wanted was Pavel seeing her cry. She sure the hell couldn’t stand being the object of his pity. That would absolutely kill her.

Tears vanquished, she lifted her head up and stared into the middle distance, shoring up her lost calm. Out the peripheral of her eye, she caught a covert movement and watched, intrigued, as Rosemary filched the last strawberry tart off the dessert tray.

A quick glance back at Pavel showed him still engrossed in his paper, head buried

between the sheets. No one else seemed to have seen what she saw. Eyebrows raised, she wondered if the woman would try to eat the thing here, or hide it for later. Personally, Kaila thought it wiser to save it. It wouldn’t be smart to try to eat it in here -- too many potential witnesses. Of course, stealing it in the first place wasn’t very smart. Hello, Maryanne Kibibbee…is anybody home? The lights are on, but…

Kaila sighed. Poor Rosemary didn’t stand a chance. Before disembarking from the

plane, Pavel had warned them all they would be under constant surveillance. She could have 98 Camille Anthony

told her they probably had the dining room bugged -- with cameras as well as audio

equipment. Everything at Sated Pleasures was state-of-the-art, after all, and Pavel never left anything to chance.

Whatever Rosemary decided to do, she didn’t have much time. Her trainer would

return any minute since he’d only stepped out to use the john.

Kaila watched the woman’s frantic gaze dart about the room, calculating the threat of exposure. Instinctively, she averted her gaze when Rosemary’s glance swept over her table.

She raised her head just in time to see the other woman’s quick, furtive movements as she stuffed the tart in the right pocket of her Capri pants and pulled her loose blouse down over the bulge.

Again, Kaila shook her head over the woman’s stupidity. She could have warned her.

Should have, probably would have warned her, except… Rosemary was such a snob, one of the ones always turning up her nose at anyone less affluent than she and her cronies. It wouldn’t hurt if management took her down a peg or two. Besides, Kaila wanted to find out how the staff would react to this infraction of the rules. So far, she’d had nothing to report to Rickard. She needed to start earning that fat-assed fee he’d paid her.

Settling back to observe the inevitable, Kaila pushed her toyed-with meal away and

took a desultory sip of her lemon-flavored water. Seems Lucinda of the orange duckbill had called it wrong, twice. Not only had Sara been the first to earn a reward, she wouldn’t be the first client punished, as that singular distinction was going to Rosemary.

“Kaila, I had thought better of you.”

Kaila’s head jerked up, her eyes met Pavel’s accusing gaze. What was he talking about?

She sat frozen, nerves jangling. Her stomach muscles clenched, making her glad she hadn’t tried to force any food down. She had to clear her throat before she could get out any words.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“That was poorly done of you.” The sad disenchantment in his voice made her feel two

inches high, even though she had no idea what he was talking about. Sucking in a shaky breath, she fidgeted with her silverware, tapping a discordant rhythm on the edge of her porcelain plate. She finally gathered enough courage to ask, “What was poorly done of me?”

“Rosemary’s theft of the tart was pathetic. She was too slow, too obvious. However,

more disappointing to me was your decision to do nothing.”

Kaila didn’t like hearing that. She’d had her reasons for not interfering. Rosemary’s stupidity was the only poorly done thing, in her opinion. The woman had gotten caught because she hadn’t stopped to think. “Tart theft -- wow, exciting events are taking place today. I always thought the role of tart thief was traditionally played by the Knave of Hearts?”

“Where was your heart, Kaila?”

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She slammed her fork on the table, anger boiling up sudden as a summer storm.

Narrowing her eyes at Pavel, she leveled her knife at him. “My heart was in my chest, Pavel, where it remains.” Her mouth tightened at his continued stony silence. “What right do you have to judge me? Where was her heart when she belittled the poorer clients on the plane, of which I was one? Why haven’t you called her on her behavior since coming here? She’s

never ceased her ‘I’ve-got-more-class-than-you’ tricks. I thought everyone was supposed to be equal while here.”

Pavel sat back and crossed one long leg over the other, linking his hands around his

upraised knee. “I’m not concerned about the state of Rosemary’s heart or her compassion, as she is not my woman. I’m not fucking her.”

“You’re not fucking me, so I must not be your woman, either!” As soon as the words

left her mouth, she covered her lips with her hand, aghast at what her angry outburst had revealed.

Unbelievably, the edges of his eyes crinkled with silent amusement. “So, that’s what’s been bothering you!” His lips curved up in a pleased smile and it looked to her as if he fought dissolving into outright laughter.

Kaila stared at him, anger smoldering inside. Carefully, she placed the knife on the

table, barely resisting the urge to slash the smug grin off his face. “Laughter isn’t the best response right now, if you get my drift. I fail to see anything funny in this situation, Pavel. In fact, I’m getting angrier by the moment.”

He sobered quickly. Uncrossing his legs, he scooted closer to the table, to her. “I’m not laughing at you, my heart. I’m simply overjoyed to learn you’ve not lost your attraction to me. I’ve been quietly dying inside since our first night.”

She frowned at him, heart kicking into overdrive. “You took me back to my room. I

woke up alone, after you said you’d never stop --” She glanced around and lowered her voice, wanting to keep their conversation private. “-- fucking me.”

Pavel uncrossed his legs and flung back in his seat. “I don’t believe this!” He sighed, sat forward once more, and captured her gaze with a steely glance. “Do you remember what I answered that first night, when you asked if it was okay for me to speak to you, come on to you?”

Her brow creased. “Yes. I think so.”

“Refresh both our memories.”

“Well, I’m paraphrasing, but basically you said, ‘The name says it all. Anything is

allowed as long as the client is okay with it.’ You said you could even fuck me bowlegged if you wanted.”

“Er…no, dear, I said I could fuck you bowlegged if you wanted me to… if we wanted

it.” Pavel’s face softened. “You’ve been thinking I didn’t want you?”

She nodded.

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Now his brow creased. “That’s just insane, Kaila. I labored hard that night -- knowing I only had the night -- to prove just how much I wanted you, but it’s been almost two weeks, and you’ve never invited me back. I’ve been drying up inside, shriveling to an empty husk thinking you didn’t want me.”

A fist tightened over her heart, squeezed her lungs until all she could gasp was, “Pavel!”

“I thought I’d disgusted you or worse, hurt you so badly you never wanted to come to

my bed, be with me again.”

The plain and simple truth rolled over her like a tidal wave. Pavel had proven

repeatedly that his scruples wouldn’t allow him to take advantage of a woman he deemed under his care and tutelage. That was why he’d asked her to fuck him before she actually began the program.

Hell, I am a stupid, stupid idiot! All this time, I could have been in Pavel’s bed…in his arms!

The pain she’d been struggling with, the sense of being found wanting eased. Kaila

gasped, clutching her chest. She hadn’t realized just how deeply the situation had eaten at her until now, when the pain drained away. Her tears surprised them both.

“Oh, god, no, honey…please don’t,” Pavel begged, dragging his chair closer. He used

his bulk to hide her distress from the other diners.

“I can’t…” The sobs ripped through her, cleansing and burning away the anger and

bitterness that had smoldered within her for over a week. “I-I-I thought I wasn’t e-enough for you, that I-I didn’t pu-pu-please you e-e-enough!” She wailed, waving the hand not plastered to her face.

Pavel captured that hand, plucked her out of her chair, and plopped her down onto his lap. One big hand rubbed soothing circles on her heaving back. “Shh! Shh, baby, don’t cry.”

He rocked her gently, letting her curl into his body as she cried out her pain. “It’s all right, it’s okay. Sweet thing, you’re ripping my heart out!”

“B-but it’s not okay, Pavel! I’ve been h-h-horrible to you and everyone for longer than a week. I hate myself!” Kaila kept her head buried in his chest as she wailed her sordid confession. “I’ve been m-mean and ugly to the other women, j-just because I was a-angry at you.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed.” Pavel’s hands didn’t stop comforting her, though his quiet words scalded her spirit.

Kaila hung her head. She couldn’t bear for him to think less of her. Coupled with her own feelings of guilt, his earlier comments about her heartlessness stung even more. Shame filled her over her recent behavior. Having been in that position most her life, she usually had a soft heart for an underdog. Her latest actions had betrayed who she was…the standard she set for herself.

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“While I’m thankful we’ve cleared the air of our personal contretemps, I’m afraid we’ll have to address this issue right now.”

Kaila lifted her head and shyly met his stern gaze. She sniffed, wiping away the last of her tears. “What do you mean?”

He didn’t answer right away. Catching the attention of Rosemary’s trainer -- who’d

returned from the bathroom while they were distracted by their conversation -- Pavel

indicated he should come over.

The trainer, a tall, brawny fellow with a shock of blond hair that labeled him an

outdoors type, and the softest brown eyes, came and stood almost at attention. “You needed something, Al -- sir?”

Pavel stood, easing Kaila off his lap and onto her feet, maintaining his hold on her.

Turning, he faced Rosemary’s direction, keeping her in his view as he talked with the young man. “Brandon, where is the rest of your team?”

Brandon’s brows creased in question. “Bill and Roger are with Lucinda and Sara on the track. The women have slow digestive syndrome and the doctors prescribed a fifteen-minute walk/run before lunch. It’s supposed to stimulate their peristalsis. Rosemary has other problems, among them, weak ankles. The doctors have forbidden jogging.”

Pavel nodded as if he already knew the information he was hearing. “You left your

charge unsupervised.”

Brandon looked surprised. “But, she was here, in the dining room. I thought it was

okay to do a quick run to the john since others were here at the same time. I mean, you were here, sir.”

“Yes, I was, but you neglected the courtesy of requesting a hand-off. Lucky for us all, the fact I was so deeply involved observing my own client’s behavior is what will enable us to salvage this situation. Your client stole the last strawberry tart off the dessert tray. It is now residing in her --” He cocked an inquiring eyebrow in Kaila’s direction. When she failed to answer, he prompted her, his voice grown hard and implacable. “Kaila --?”

Sullenly, she answered him, irritated he was making her the bad guy. “It’s in her right pants pocket.”

Brandon swept a shaky hand through his sun-streaked hair. “Oh, shit! Oh, fuck! Man, I don’t like this.”

“Neither do I.” Pavel snapped the words out with angry force. “The team system was

put into operation to help lessen these occurrences. The client pays when the staff fucks up --” He gave Kaila a stern, straight look. “-- or when a fellow client fails to have compassion.”

Turning back to the young trainer, he softened his voice. “Brandon, I know you find

this situation stressful because you have a genuine care for your client. You made a mistake, 102

Camille Anthony

a minor one, as it happens. From now on, I imagine you’ll make sure to assign her to