Werewulf Journals 3: Hungry Pleasures (7 page)

There went that throbbing again, accompanied by moisture and heat. Her body

warmed but her mind cooled. She was being manipulated by a pro and she didn’t like it.

“You didn’t come here for a social call, so stop playing me, your highness, and just tell me what you want from me.”

The prince sat back and looped his hands loosely over his raised knee, twining his long slender fingers together. His thighs shifted.

Oh my gracious…he has an erection! Her eyes widening, Kaila stared at his groin -- a

huge erection that hadn’t been there earlier. Did I do that?

“Actually, Miss Morgan, I want to offer you a job.”

Sucking your thick dick? I don’t think so! “I have one, thanks.”

Rickard -- she couldn’t think of him as Orloffberg while he was sporting a hard-on she might have caused -- waved away her rejection. “It would be a temporary job. And it would pay very well.” He cocked his head, thrummed his fingers on the taut surface of his thigh.

I bet that’s raw silk.

“Kaila -- may I call you Kaila?”

“Sure.”

A smile blossomed. “Then I must insist you call me Rickard. I couldn’t possibly insult you by addressing you by your first name while you persist in addressing me by title.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You really like to win, don’t you?”

He threw back his head and laughed, looking so much like a little boy who’d played a

trick on his governess. “I do.”

She wanted to smack him. “You’re underhanded, too.”

“I am. You’d do well to remember that.”

“Oh, I will,” she said, baring her teeth in what only an idiot would call a smile,

“Rickard.”

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He rewarded her with another one of his blinding grins. Sitting forward, he turned off the seductive pose and became all business. The sudden shift threw her off.

“I don’t want to waste time going over what you already know, so I’ll ask you, how

much of our conversation did you overhear at the restaurant that day?”

Her cheeks flushed with remembered heat. “Pretty much all of it. You guys weren’t

whispering.”

“Then you understand a little of what we hope Sated Pleasures can become. Let me tell you what the resort is not.” He ticked the points off his fingers. “While we are concerned about our clients’ comfort, it is not a Club Med resort. Our program is not designed to be a quick fix. Most overweight women did not reach their present weight overnight and will not lose it in that manner, either.” He waited for her nod of understanding before continuing.

“Sated Pleasures is not only about dieting. We have doctors on staff to monitor every aspect of our clients’ physical and mental wellbeing. Before being accepted in the program, we insist each client undergo extensive testing.” This time, his smile was a playful smirk.

“Only if they pass those tests are they allowed to pay us an obscene amount of money to be forced into obtaining their dearest goal.”

His smile fell away. “We guarantee the weight will come off. And we will not release

anyone from the program until the weight has remained off for one full year.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Who can afford to be away from work that long?”

“No, no, do not misunderstand. The in-house treatment lasts approximately two

months. We monitor the client after release for a full year. If, during that time, they begin to regain the pounds, we will bring them back to Sated Pleasures to undergo a second, more intense regime…at no additional cost.”

Kaila sighed. “It sounds great, but there’s no way I could afford that. Even if I could scrape up the money, I’d never be able to take that much time away from work.”

“Kaila, I did not come here to talk you into becoming a client. Well, I did come to

proposition you in a way, however, not as you imagine. May I be blunt?”

“You haven’t been…?”

His warm chuckle made things shift low in her belly. Hey, I like the other guy! Why

am I responding to this one?

“You are a beautiful black woman.” He reiterated his statement, backing it up with

others when he saw her blatant disbelief of his words. “Do not mistake me for one of your blind American males. I can see your hair is a gorgeous nimbus about your soft shoulders.

Your dark brown eyes, light brown skin, and full lips…your lush hourglass figure --” He kissed his fingertips. “Magnifique! Pavel found you very beautiful. And I…” He shrugged; that universal European shoulder movement that conveyed so much. “I find my taste

conforms to his in most things.

34 Camille Anthony

“He has taught me not to judge by appearance alone,” he continued, shushing her when

she would have interrupted. “Where it matters, Kaila, you are exquisite. Your strong

character shines from within. My sources tell me you are a hard worker, giving to your employer full loyalty and an honest day’s work.”

Kaila closed her eyes, shutting herself away from his scrutiny. Those glacier blue eyes saw too much. She remembered thinking something similar when she’d interacted with him at the restaurant.

She heard him get up and her eyes snapped open. Pulse increasing, she watched him

move until he towered over her. Licking her lips, she blinked as he slid in beside her, took her hand in one of his.

“It is also evident to me that you desire to be on the outside what you are on the inside.

You yearn to have your inner beauty expressed in the physical realm.”

His long, lean thigh pressed against her thick one, riveting her helpless attention to his muscular leg. He grabbed her full attention when he lowered his voice and whispered in her ear, “I know all about you, Kaila. Don’t imagine I came here without having you thoroughly checked out.”

The buzz she had going with all the compliments came to a screeching halt. “How dare

you delve into my private life? What gives you that right?”

He grinned at her outraged gasp, even white teeth flashing. “I wouldn’t be here now, if I hadn’t. Much as Pavel was impressed with you, I haven’t been naïve enough to walk into an unsecured situation since my father was murdered while I was still a child. Much as I might love the pretense of freedom, I can’t afford to travel without bodyguards, darling.”

Kaila jumped up and looked about, frantic at the thought of more men lurking inside

her house, ready to pounce.

“Relax. He drew her back down while she was still trying to catch a glimpse of his

secret service contingent. “They’re outside, maintaining the perimeter.”

She strained her neck toward the wide bay window. “I don’t see anyone.” Her voice

sounded curt in her own ears. Skeptical.

“Trust me, they are there. My staff are simply so good you don’t notice them. They are under orders to guard me at all times and even I must give in occasionally. I would be a fool in their eyes to overlook any possible danger where you are involved.”

She tried to tug her hand free. “You act like I’m some Mata Hari, some super spy or

something. I’m surprised you’d take the risk of sitting here with me.”

He didn’t let go. Instead, he wrapped his bigger hand around hers and held on tight. “I know you are not.” His facial expression went vague. His voice, when he continued, sounded distracted. “Your hand is so soft, so smooth.” His eyes came up and they were no longer cold.

“I wonder if the rest of you is like that? Soft Kaila…”

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She tugged at her hand for real, anxious to get free. He turned her hand and she about died in embarrassment, chagrined over its condition. The palm was dry and cracked; the back almost gray with ash. Hell, she’d been scrubbing floors and washing windows when the prince came calling. She hadn’t had time to slather on any lotion or get fancied up. Not that she would have done that, anyway.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“On the contrary…” He raised her hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss in the middle of her chapped palm, rubbed his stubbled cheek against her tender skin.

She surged to her feet, finally managed to snatch her hand back. “Stop it! What do you think you’re doing?”

Rickard leaned back against the loveseat. Without speaking, he stared up into her face, his eyes blazing with molten flames. The soft afternoon sun shone through the window, highlighting the pure silvery strands of hair, the almost delicate skin of his wide brow. In the face of such beauty, she yearned for the rougher visage of Pavel.

“I don’t want you.” She was lying to herself and knew it. She just didn’t know why.

“Yes, you do. At this moment, you do want me. What you mean to say is, you do not

want to want me. I’m willing to bet you’re sopping wet. If I pulled your shorts down and placed my hand in your panties, touched you, I would find you dripping with need.”

Kaila couldn’t deny the truth of his words. The moment he’d put his mouth on her

hand -- her hand! -- she’d drenched her undies. “All right, then,” she snarled. “I don’t want to want you.”

He tilted his head, studied her out of inscrutable eyes. “I find I certainly want you, Kaila, very much, in fact.” He heaved a sigh, shedding his air of indolent grace as he would shed a wet cloak once reaching shelter.

“Pavel --” She spoke his name like a talisman against temptation.

“Yes. For Pavel’s sake and your own, I will not pursue this, now.” A half smile curved his beckoning mouth. “Now is not the time for us, though I promise you…it will come.”

God, she’d never known a white man with such full, thick lips. It wasn’t fair! “Now I know why your friend questioned working with you. It is very much like making a deal with the devil.”

“You flatter me. I am nowhere near the manipulator Old Nick is purported to be. If I

were, I wouldn’t have to worry about Pavel’s fears coming true. He is leery about the potential for abuse where the staff is concerned. As you overheard, every client must sign a legal waiver giving up their right to prosecute Sated Pleasures, any of its staff or owners for any punishment they are subjected to during the course of their treatment.

“That being said, I realize there is a high possibility one or more of the staff will overstep their bounds. I need to know should that happen. To that end, I would like you to become a client at Sated Pleasures. Enter the program. Take advantage of all it has to offer.

36 Camille Anthony

All you need do is keep your eyes open and report any infractions you might discover

directly to me.”

“Why should I work undercover for you?” Excitement leaped, set her mind spinning.

“Just to be able to join your program?”

His lips turned up. “Well, there is all that lovely money involved also, but yes, you will become a client. I will expedite the entry process for you, pay your fees, and give you a spending allowance so you can purchase some clothing before you go. My sources tell me you inherited this small townhouse in your youth, from a retired torch singer who once went by the name Martha Magdalene. Repairs and upkeep drain you. Your job, while

rewarding emotionally, is barely enough to get by on. The salary doesn’t stretch to luxuries.

You eat beans and rice and live simply, adding to your small nest egg quarterly. The rest of your money is eaten away by doctors’ bills.”

She chilled. How much had he found out about her illness? “If you tell…anyone, I

swear --”

“Your secrets -- such as they are -- are safe. I do not intend to tell Pavel anything about you. I believe finding out about a new lover is half the fun. I only wish you to work for me.

If you do, you will never have to work again. I will pay you --”

He mentioned an amount that had her choking on her spit. “That’s a freaking fortune.

Who do you expect me to kill?”

His laughter sounded like music, causing her to frown. Damn it, she’d like to know

why everything about this man seemed perfect. She had to remember he was here with a

not-so-hidden agenda. He spoke of naiveté and claimed he’d lost his a long time ago. She suspected he was playing on hers.

“No one, I promise. I don’t expect you to intervene, simply report. In the best-case

scenario, you’ll have nothing to report. In any case, whether you discover anything or not, you will receive the same amount of money.”

“Why are you going to all this trouble?”

Rickard didn’t answer right away. Finally, he pursed his lips and sighed. “No matter

how well we research the staff, it’s possible a bad apple will find a way to conceal itself in the barrel. I have diplomatic immunity. I need not fear legal action here, in the States. I don’t have to do anything to protect myself. I am simply interested in putting Pavel’s mind at ease.

My friend is a true chivalrous knight. He would be devastated should something happen to one of the women while in his care. With that in mind, I must caution you. You are not Mata Hari, and I won’t have you getting carried away with any supposed spy scenario. Do not, in any way, place yourself in danger.”

“You sound like you care. Why don’t you want me reporting to Pavel?”

“Never make the mistake of thinking I do not care deeply for Pavel. I do. Because he

seems to have developed an interest in you, I include you in the people whose safety matters Werewulf Journals 3: Hungry Pleasures

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to me. Besides, if something happened to you and Pavel found out I’d recruited you, he would never forgive me.” He winked.

He walked toward the door. “I must go. Before I leave, do I have your agreement?”

Kaila trailed behind him, watched as his hand encircled the old-fashioned crystal

doorknob. His palm cradled it. As if it were an old lover, he caressed the cold glass, his fingers sliding across the surface with the sure, delicate touch of a sensual connoisseur. She lifted her gaze a little and ran up against the bold outline of his jutting cock. With a little gasp, her gaze flew to his face. His eyes burned as he returned her gaze -- lit from within with dancing blue-white flames. Silently, wordlessly, he dared her to acknowledge the lust raging between them.