Dangerous Pleasures (9 page)

“Water temp?” he asked.

“You can adjust the water temperature?”

“Sure. What do you like?”

“Hot, but not too hot,” she answered him.

“One hundred and five degrees then,” he said. “If it’s not right we’ll adjust it after you get into the tub.”

Annie shook her head. This was so much better than she had ever imagined—and to think she had been hesitant about accepting her prize. Finishing her juice, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, then hesitated a moment. She didn’t have a robe, and her sexy nightgown was a bit revealing. “I’m sure it will be just perfect,” she said. “Scram now and let me take my bath. I can smell the lavender from here, and it’s just delicious.” She slid back into the bed and pulled up the coverlet as he exited the bath.

“Enjoy,” he told her. “I’ll wait in the living room for you.”

Annie waited until he had left the bedroom, and then she scampered into the big bathroom. Shucking her nightgown, she stepped down into the tub and slid into the water. It was absolutely wonderful, and she sighed with the soreness from her adventure. Her arms had been stretched by her weight as she hung. Her butt ached a little from having been smacked with a leather…what had he called it? A tawse?

Allowing time for a five-minute soak, Annie then washed quickly and got out of the tub. Drying herself and then wrapping a towel about her body, she walked back into the bedroom to dress. She brushed her hair free of the French braid she had been given last night and, pulling it back, slid an elastic about it. Then she joined Devyn out in the living room of the suite.

He whistled. “For a lady with five kids, you are really hot,” he told her with a grin.

“Thank you, sir,” Annie responded. “Now show me my choices for today.” She sat down on the couch next to him.

He held out his clipboard to her.

Annie took it and scanned the printed page. “I’ll take the nature walk at ten a.m., do a half hour of reflexology at eleven thirty, have a massage at two o’clock, and get my hair washed and a scalp massage at four. You said some other guests came in last night. Who?” She handed him back the clipboard, and he wrote her choices and times on it before answering her.

“Some of the Channel Corporation’s more important clients and a couple of travel writers were invited,” Devyn said. “There’s going to be a get-together about five thirty tonight in the main lounge. I’m supposed to take you there. Don’t forget, you’re the grand-prize winner.” He stood up. “Ready for breakfast, Annie?”

The dining room was light and airy. It had windows on three sides, and the windows were positioned in such a fashion that it appeared they were aboard a ship and surrounded on all sides by water. It was a wonderful illusion. Devyn was to take his meals with her at breakfast and lunch. At dinner she would be seated with the other guests. The waitress placed a glass dish of fresh summer fruits before her. It was followed by a plate of scrambled eggs and sausage. A delicate china cup was filled with fresh-brewed white tea.

“Part of your weight-loss program,” Devyn told her as he wolfed down his waffles and bacon. “Sorry. They put you on low carbs, high protein. The good carbs.”

“How about getting me an English muffin?” Annie said hopefully.

He shook his blond head. “No breads, and only natural sugars,” he told her.

She took her nature walk with two other women who had managed to get up early enough. It was led by an enthusiastic woman Annie recognized immediately as her twins’ Girl Scout leader. She acknowledged Annie with a smile, and congratulated her on being the grand-prize winner. Her companions exchanged pleasantries but said little else.

The reflexology session was wonderful—fifteen minutes for her hands, and fifteen minutes for her feet. The woman doing the reflexology suggested that she book an hour next time, saying she could feel the built-up tension in Annie’s extremities. Lunch consisted of a delicious chicken salad, fresh tomatoes, and coleslaw, followed by an absolutely delicious dessert.

“What is this?” Annie asked Devyn. “It’s sweet. It’s yummy!”

“Apricot Whip,” he told her. “Egg white whipped into a meringue consistency with fresh ripe apricot puree folded in. No need for sweeteners. The apricots are local, and very sweet themselves, since they’ve been allowed to ripen naturally in their orchard.”

“I’m in love,” Annie said as she scraped the last of the Apricot Whip from her dish. “Can I have this every day?”

“I’ll ask,” he said, grinning boyishly at her.

At two p.m. she was stretched out on Lars’s massage table, purring as his fingers dug into her shoulders. She was more relaxed with him today. At four o’clock Mr. Eugene was washing her hair and massaging her scalp with talented fingers. Scalp massage, he explained, stimulated the hair follicles and kept the scalp healthier. He then dried her hair and put it in a French braid. At five p.m. Devyn had her back in her suite preparing for the get-together. There was a dress laid out on her bed.

“That’s not mine,” Annie said.

“Ms. Buckley sent it over. She said she thought you might want to wear it tonight at the get-together. It’s one of those perks of being the grand-prize winner.”

Annie nodded. “Okay,” she said, and he left her to dress. The dress was simple, and very sophisticated. It was black silk that complemented her shape when she put it on. It was sleeveless with a boat neck. Annie slipped a single strand of pearls over her head.
Wow,
she thought.
I don’t think I’ve ever looked so grown-up or so good.
Fortunately she had brought a pair of black patent-leather sandals for evenings. She stepped into the living room. “Well,” she said to Devyn. “What do you think?”

“You look great!” he told her. “A little lipstick and eye shadow and you’re ready to go, Annie. You don’t even need blush tonight. You’ve got your own natural color.”

“I can do my makeup,” Annie told him.

“Nope, this is your week to be pampered. Judi should be here any minute,” he replied as a knock sounded on the door.

The makeup artist hurried in and, seating Annie down, quickly added the smoky blue eye shadow to her lids and a pinkish coral lipstick to her mouth. She agreed with Devyn that Annie needed nothing more tonight. Escorted by her PA, Annie departed her suite to join the get-together. Devyn left her at the entrance to the main lounge.

“It’s just the ladies,” he said. “If you need me, just call.”

Annie stepped into the room, and immediately Nora Buckley came forward.

“Here’s our grand-prize winner now, ladies,” she said, smiling, and drew Annie into the small group of women. “Her name is Annie Miller, and she is the mother of five children ranging in age from eighteen to four. Annie, two of these ladies are doing articles on the Spa for national publications, so I hope you’ll answer their questions.”

“Of course,” Annie said with a smile.

“Mrs. Miller, I’m Carole Kramer of
Pampered Woman
magazine. How does your husband feel about your spending a week at the Spa?”

“I’m a widow,” Annie said.

“Okay, then how do your kids feel about Mom running off for the week?”

“My oldest son is in Italy with his aunt and grandmother. My three daughters are at camp, and my little boy is off at Disney World with his best friend,” Annie said. “But they know where I am, and they were very enthusiastic about it. This was perfect timing for me. I never won anything before, and I couldn’t have accepted this prize if everything hadn’t fallen into place so nicely.”

“Your husband must have left you pretty well fixed that you could send your son to Italy and your daughters to camp,” Carole Kramer said a bit rudely.

“Actually he didn’t leave us well fixed at all. Who expects to get killed stepping off a curb in London?” Annie asked sweetly. “The girls are at camp and Nathaniel is in Italy courtesy of my sister, who’s a partner with Devers, Gordon, and Williams in the city.”

Carole Kramer looked very abashed at Annie’s explanation.

“I’m Susie James from
Chic
magazine,” a younger woman with red hair said. “How do you like the Spa so far, Mrs. Miller? Is it everything you expected?”

“Well, having never been to a spa before, I didn’t know what to expect, but I’ll bet The Spa at Egret Pointe is head and shoulders above a lot of other spas. I especially love having a personal assistant. Makes me feel just like Lindsay Lohan,” Annie replied.

Everyone laughed.

“Yeah,” Susie James said. “That is a rather delicious touch.” Susie turned to Nora. “Are they trained to do everything we want?” she asked pointedly.

“Absolutely!” Nora said. “Whatever your wish is, your personal assistant has been told to cater to it. Has yours been uncooperative?”

“No,” Susie James answered. “I just wanted to know how far I could take it.”

“As far as you want,” Nora responded.

“The Channel is for women only,” Carole Kramer said. “And it’s available in all of our rooms and suites. But the PAs are male. Do they know about the Channel?”

“Of course not,” Nora said. “At least, not the truth. They’ve been told it’s an inspirational health and holistic channel for our women only. Since they’re unable to access it, they can’t prove otherwise.”

“Have you accessed the Channel, Mrs. Miller?” Susie James asked Annie.

“Not yet,” Annie lied, “but I certainly will before I leave. My sister has it and loves it. So do some of the women I know. I just haven’t come up with a fantasy yet, but I guess I had better, since part of my prize is a year’s subscription to the Channel.”

“I would think a widow would have a lot of fantasies—unless, of course, you have a boyfriend,” Carole Kramer said acerbically.

“There has been no one since my husband,” Annie said. “He was the love of my life, Mrs. Kramer. He was a great husband, lover, and father.”

“If your sister and some of your friends have the Channel,” Susie James said, “why haven’t you gotten it too?”

“I can’t afford extras. We have basic cable. If I could pay for something other than that, it would be the Disney Channel for my little boy, Wills,” Annie answered her.

A white-coated houseman came into the room with a small gong, and struck it. “Dinner is served,” he announced.

“Oh, but I still have some questions for Mrs. Miller,” Carole Kramer said.

“Me too,” Susie James echoed.

“She’ll be here for the next few days, ladies, and so will you,” Nora Buckley said. “Annie, come and sit with me tonight. Elise, you too. Annie, this is Elise Van der Veer, the wife of the famous jeweler.” Nora led the way into the elegant dining room with its water view and, after seeing the other women seated, joined her two chosen guests.

“I’ve been admiring Mrs. Miller’s pearls,” Mrs. Van der Veer said, smiling.

“Annie, please. My maternal grandmother left them to me. They were her mother’s before that. I just love them.”

“Elise,” Mrs. Van der Veer replied. “I thought you handled yourself very well with that wretched Kramer woman,” she said low. “She has all the sensitivity of a jelly. How long have you been widowed now, my dear?”

“Just over two years,” Annie said.

“And this is your first respite, isn’t it? Well, I should certainly say that you more than deserve it. Where are your girls camping?”

“Stoneledge Lake. My sister and I went there as girls,” Annie answered.

The older woman smiled. “My great-grandparents founded Stoneledge Lake back in nineteen hundred and one,” she told Annie. “It’s a lovely spot, and as I was there as a girl myself, I have to say it was a lot of fun, too. How kind of your sister.”

“Lizzie is a wonderful woman,” Annie agreed. “She was the one who entered me in this contest.”

“Where is your home?” Mrs. Van der Veer wanted to know.

“Right here in Egret Pointe,” Annie said, laughing.

“Gracious, this whole thing has been quite serendipitous for you, hasn’t it?”

“It really has,” Annie agreed. “I didn’t know what I was going to do about Wills, my five-year-old. My dad is home while Mom is in Tuscany with Lizzie and Nathaniel, but he’s a golfer.” She smiled ruefully. “But then my son’s little friend’s cousin couldn’t make the trip to Disney World, and they had paid for two children, so Wills was invited. Problem solved! I really was very lucky, wasn’t I?”

The evening continued on with good food and light conversation. Annie’s mind kept wandering, as it had much of the day, to her naughty fantasy. She had lied earlier about accessing the Channel because she hadn’t wanted to talk about her fantasy, and she had suspected that both Carole Kramer and Susie James would have asked. But she was very eager for the evening to end so she could get to bed and go back to her wicked little illusion. She was dying to know what would happen tonight. Would the Beast have his way with her? She remembered what the two unknowns had said to her in the darkness of her cell: He wouldn’t fuck her until she was obedient. But Annie didn’t know if she felt like being a complacent fairy-tale heroine.

Looking around her at the other women, she wondered what their fantasies were. The elegant and at least seventy-something Elise Van der Veer, the sour Carol Kramer, and the perky Susie James. What were their fantasies? And the three other women who were now chatting with the others—who were they? And what did they conjure up in their imaginations that translated to the Channel? And there was another thing: What had Susie James meant when she asked Nora if the personal assistants were trained to do
everything
? Did
everything
mean even sex? She blushed at her own thoughts.

After dinner Nora led them out onto a lovely stone terrace set up with lounges. Stretching out, they listened to a violin, cello, and piano concert of delightful baroque music as a moon rose over the bay. The evening was warm, and there was a light breeze that kept the mosquitoes away. Finally the party of women broke up for the evening, each going to her own room or suite. Devyn was there to escort Annie, but she left him at the door saying, “I can take it from here, kid. I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”

“’Night, Annie,” he said cheerfully. “Sleep well.”