Dangerous Pleasures (32 page)

Annie froze. She could not have heard him correctly.

He laughed softly. “You heard me,” he said.

“I haven’t the faintest idea of what you are talking about,” she finally answered.

“I am Mr. Nicholas’s nephew,” he replied. “I am not just now coming into the family business, Annie. I have been in it for some time. I know everything there is to know about my uncle’s enterprises.”

Annie couldn’t speak, even to remonstrate with him for using her first name.

“The Channel is an interactive network where women go to live out, to fully experience, their fantasies. It’s a marvelous creation, and you would think that the whole world would know about it. But they don’t, do they? It’s a delicious and dirty little secret known only to the female of the human species.” He laughed at the look on her face. “Now, how could that possibly be?”

“I think you must have a screw loose,” Annie finally managed to say.

“Excellent! Very good!” he complimented her. “Your loyalty to my uncle, to the Channel, is to be commended. The old boy really does have a good eye when it comes to picking out new servants.”

“I am not your uncle’s servant,” Annie said in a tight voice. “I am in his employ.”

“As you will. Now, answer my question. Will you be joining me tonight?” The dark eyes looked directly at her.

“You are free to go now, Mr. MacKay,” Annie told him. “I’m sure you want to set your office up to suit yourself, now that I am out of it, and I have work to do.”

He stood up. “You will come,” he told her. “Your curiosity will compel you to come, I suspect.” Then, turning, he left her office.

Annie started to shake. He had frightened her. He had really scared the daylights out of her, although she had managed to hold herself together. Fyfe MacKay had to be totally mad. How had he found out about the Channel? Of course, she would admit nothing. Annie reached for her cell phone and punched the number one. It rang twice, and then she heard Mr. Nicholas’s voice.

“Yes, Annie, what is it?”

“Your nephew, sir. He knows about the Channel,” Annie gasped.

There was a long and deep silence, followed by a sigh. “Annie, Fyfe will eventually be my right-hand man. He is family. He has worked in other divisions of the corporation for a number of years now. His last position was overseeing the Channel for me when Nora Buckley took over opening the Spa. I had no one else available at the time.”

“I thought only women knew about the Channel,” Annie half whispered.

“I know, and Fyfe knows,” Mr. Nicholas replied in his usual calm tones. “He has my complete and utter trust, Annie.”

“I see,” she responded, beginning to regain mastery of herself. “I told him I didn’t know what he was talking about when he brought it up.”

“You obviously have more sense than he does,” Mr. Nicholas said. “Fyfe sometimes lacks discretion. He should have said nothing to you.”

“He’s appallingly arrogant, sir,” Annie told her employer.

Mr. Nicholas laughed. “A family trait, I fear. Is that all, my dear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You were correct to come to me, Annie. You must always come to me when you are disturbed, confused, or concerned. I will always help you to solve your difficulties. You are an excellent employee. Good-bye now, my dear.”

“Good-bye, sir,” Annie replied. She closed her cell phone and sat back in her chair. Mr. Nicholas always made her feel better. He was more supportive of her than her own parents, she thought. He had given her the opportunity to better herself, to advance within his organization, to take care of her children properly. But who was he? Really?

She had Googled him once when she first came to work at the Spa. There were very few references to Mr. Nicholas. Mostly he was acknowledged as the CEO of the Channel Corporation. There was little more. Was Nicholas his last name? What was his first name? Or was Nicholas his first name? Then what was his surname? The damned Internet could tell you almost everything about a person if the information was available. Hell, it could print out a map to your house. But there was virtually no information about Mr. Nicholas himself. Why was that?

“It’s almost six, Mrs. Miller. I’m heading home,” Mary Finch said. “Sandra is all ready for tomorrow. Her paperwork is done, and turned in to accounting. She’s got her uniforms, and they’ve given her the keys to her assigned car. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No, thanks, Mary,” Annie said. “I think I’m going to stay here tonight.”

“Okay, then, good night.” And Mary was gone.

Annie picked up her cell again and punched in the number two.

“Miller residence,” Nanny Violet’s voice came over the phone.

“Nanny, it’s Mrs. Miller. I have to work late. I’m going to stay up at the Spa tonight. Tell the children good night for me, will you?”

“Oh, dear, and I made shepherd’s pie for you with the leftover Sunday lamb,” Nanny Violet said. “Nathaniel said you wanted it.”

“I did, and I’m sorry to miss it,” Annie responded. “Tell my eldest that I got that promotion. I’m now the general manager of the spa.”

“Congratulations, Mrs. Miller! I will certainly tell him. The children will be so proud of you,” Nanny Violet trilled.

“Good night now,” Annie said.

“Good night, dear. Please don’t work too hard,” the nanny advised.

Annie touched the end button on her cell. Then she punched in Lizzie’s office number. She knew her sister would still be working.

“Hey, Annie, what’s up?” Lizzie answered.

“I’m the new GM at the Spa,” Annie answered her.

“Wonderful! Did you tell Mom and Dad yet?”

“Not yet. Lizzie, what do you know about Mr. Nicholas?” Annie asked her sister.

“Not a whole lot, really,” Lizzie said. “Why? Is it important?”

“Maybe not, but I can’t help but be curious,” Annie answered. “I Googled him, and there’s virtually nothing, Lizzie. Don’t you think it’s odd that someone who is the head of such a financially and seemingly large corporation is a virtual blank?”

“Look,” Lizzie said to her elder sister, “some of these guys with money and power are a little bit eccentric. They don’t want anything known about their background, or where they live, or if they have family. It’s bizarre, but it goes with the territory. I’ve met Mr. Nicholas a couple of times now. He’s courtly and he’s intelligent. And most important of all to the firm, he pays his yearly retainer up-front without a murmur. Now, what’s really bothering you, Annie?”

“He brought his nephew in this morning as assistant general manager. The guy is gorgeous, hot, and totally weird. He makes me uncomfortable, Lizzie. And he knows about the Channel.”

“Fyfe MacKay!” Lizzie laughed. “Yes, handsome as sin, and the most arrogant man I’ve ever met. He was temporarily in charge of the Channel itself. I’ve met him. Did Mr. Nicholas tell you that you were in charge? Did he tell him?”

“Yes,” Annie replied.

“Then trust me, you are in charge. Don’t let Fyfe bully you or scare you with that ‘I’m
his
nephew, and I’m mysterious’ attitude. Show him you’re the boss, Annie, because if you don’t, you’re going to lose control of your position. If that happens you’ll be in deep doo-doo with your staff. They respect you. Don’t let that change.”

“Thanks, Lizzie, you always make me feel better,” Annie told her younger sibling. “I guess I just got a bad case of nerves. It’s been a long, extra busy day.”

“Go home and get some rest,” Lizzie advised.

“I’m staying here,” Annie told her sister. “It’s too noisy at home for me to rest. Besides, I have some work to do.”

“Me too,” Lizzie said. “You okay now?”

“Yeah, I am. Good night, sis.”

“You, too.”

Annie closed her cell phone, and then she pressed a button on her desk.

“Yes, Mrs. Miller.”

“Are you alone on the front desk, Peter?”

“No, ma’am, Simon is here.”

“One of you go to the kitchen. Get me a sandwich and a pot of tea. I’m in my office working late,” Annie said.

“Right away, ma’am. And if I might say it, congratulations!”

“Thanks, Peter.”

A half hour later the young man from the front desk arrived with a tray. On it was a perfectly grilled Havarti cheese–and–bacon sandwich, a small meringue filled with berries, and a pot of black Irish tea. “Thought if you were working you’d need something substantial, and I know you didn’t eat lunch today,” Peter said as he set the tray down. “If you need anything else I’m on until midnight, Mrs. Miller.”

“Thanks,” Annie said as Peter hurried out, leaving her alone again. She ate slowly. The sandwich was hot and gooey. The black tea cleared her palate with every sip. The meringue shell and berries were the perfect ending. Finishing it all, Annie sat back with a gusty sigh. She felt so much better now.

Her office door suddenly opened, and Fyfe MacKay came into the room. “I was going to ask you to dinner,” he said quietly.

“I’ve eaten,” she said.

“My uncle says my ambition often makes me seem arrogant and eager to show everyone how much I know. I spoke out of turn today,” he said.

Annie sighed. “You’re part of a family corporation, and if your uncle shared the Channel with you, then he must have big plans for you. But I’ll admit to being startled.”

“Then I’m forgiven?” he asked.

“You’re forgiven as long as you remember that until Mr. Nicholas says otherwise, I am the one running The Spa at Egret Pointe, not you. You will show me respect at all times, because right now I have my staff’s respect, and I don’t intend losing it to you or anyone else. It would lessen my value to the corporation, and I can’t let anyone do that,” Annie told Fyfe MacKay in a quiet, firm voice.

“I like it when you talk tough,” he said softly.

“If there is nothing else, Mr. MacKay, I’d like to go back to work,” Annie said.

“Then I’ll bid you good night for now,” he answered, and left her.

Annie spent the next hour going over miscellaneous papers she had put aside for a quiet time. She made some notes for winter excursions for the spa guests, and finally, feeling tired, she went upstairs to her new apartment. To her surprise all of Nora’s furniture was gone, and in its place were furnishings more to her taste, warm and homey. And outside she saw that snow was beginning to fall. Tired, she washed, undressed, got into bed, and fell asleep. It wasn’t even nine o’clock.

Several hours later she woke up. She felt refreshed, and, reaching for the remote, she pointed it toward the flat-screen television in the open walnut armoire. She would go to the seashore tonight, but before she could press the B button her finger involuntarily pushed down on A.
Damn!
she thought as she found herself once again hanging naked in the small round dungeon chamber. Two torches flickered from their holders in the wall. And instinctively Annie knew she was not alone.

His hands reached around her to cup her round, firm breasts in his palms. He pinched her nipples cruelly, causing Annie to cry out. “In this reality, Mistress Anne, I am the master, and you are the obedient servant,” she heard the Beast’s sexy, dark voice rasp. His hands ran down her torso, exploring her as if for the very first time.

She shivered at his touch. “What is your name, my lord?” she dared to ask him. His fingers wound their way through her thick, curly bush.

“You know my name, Mistress Anne,” the Beast told her.

“No, I don’t!” Annie cried.

He laughed a dark laugh. Then he unfastened the manacles that held her up, and when she stood on bare feet he walked about in front of her. He wore only one garment, tight-fitting black leather breeches, and from a slit cut into them his great penis hung supine. “On your knees, Mistress Anne,” he commanded her. And when she knelt before him the Beast said, “Now cajole my cock to come out to play with you.”

Annie took him into her mouth and began to suck. It was him. She knew it. Sensed it. Fyfe MacKay was the Beast. How had she ever imagined a man she’d never met? And yet since she had been a child listening to her grandmother read her the tale of “Beauty and the Beast,” the image of this man had always come into her head. But her grandmother had died, and she had never again heard or read that story. And she had never thought of this man, this face, until the night she had first programmed her fantasy.

His fingers dug into her thick hair. “That’s it, my beauty, make me want to fuck you. Ah, what a mouth you have! You are making my lust for you boil hot. Stop now!” He drew her up and kissed her hard. “On your back in the straw, Mistress Anne,” he said. Then he slipped between her soft open thighs. “Take my mask off, beauty.”

Her fingers reached up and undid the silk-and-leather mask that covered part of his face. She pulled it off and gasped. “Where is your scar?” she cried as she looked into the perfect features of Fyfe MacKay.

“The scar was there for you when you did not know me,” he explained. “Now you know who I am. Say my name, Annie.”

“Fantasy end!” Annie cried, and found herself back in her bed, but Fyfe MacKay was still between her thighs.

“Say my name!”
he told her again. “Don’t you want to be fucked, Annie? And I’m not going to fuck you until you say my name.”

“What are you doing? I ended the fantasy! I ended it!”

“And I came with you when you did. Say my name! I can keep us like this all night if you want,” he threatened her.

“I’ll scream!” she said.

“There’s no one up here to hear you,” he said, laughing softly. “Come on, Annie, you know you want my big cock inside of you. Say my name and I’ll put it there. I’ll go hard and deep and give you the best orgasm you’ve ever had. All I need is to hear you say my name, Annie.”

“And if I don’t?” she demanded.

“Then I’ll tell my uncle that I don’t think your sister is the best lawyer for us, Annie. I’ll tell him I suspect she is skimming some of our profits to pay for her increasingly wealthy lifestyle. And I’ll make it look just like that. Her reputation, and her firm’s reputation, will be in shambles before she’s found innocent,” he said.

“You bastard!” Annie said angrily. “How can you do such a thing?”

“You don’t get it, do you?” he said softly. “Haven’t you figured out yet who my uncle is? Who the family is? Who I am?”