TouchofaDom (5 page)

Adele clung to him. They were both sweating and he shut his
eyes to relish the incredible feel of her slick skin on his.

He kissed her damp forehead and then her shoulder and tasted
salt.

“You are like a dream,” he whispered.

“I think I might be dreaming. Will I wake up and find this
didn’t happen?”

“Never.”

“Excuse me for intruding on the moment.”

He turned with a shock. Dear God! Helen. He’d forgotten her.
How in hades could he have done that? “I’m really glad you both had such a
great time but would you mind untying me?”

He was by her side in moments, his hand still in Adele’s.
“Helen, I’m sorry. I—”

“Got carried away? I noticed. Branko, you do have a great
way of making a woman feel forgettable and neglected.”

Not his intention. “Forgive me.”

“I can manage that, if you untie me.”

“Of course but how are you?” She was close to peaking right
before he got…distracted.

“Branko, watching the two of you, even if it did put a crick
in my neck and strain my shoulders, was plenty to finish me off. You two are
quite the hottest thing I’ve even seen.”

Adele gasped. Understandable, all things taken into account.

“You must be cold,” he told her, taking an unused blanket
and putting it around her shoulders. “Give me a minute to help out Helen.” He
quickly released the straps on her wrists and ankles and helped her up. She
stood, grabbed a blanket and promptly sat down. “Have a seat,” she said to
Adele, patting the bench beside her. “You look a little wobbly about the
knees.”

“I am.” She sank down beside Helen. “But it was incredible.”

Nice to know he merited that much accolade, especially since
he wasn’t exactly steady on his own pins. He sat beside Adele.

Nobody said anything for several minutes. Just listened to
the call of some night bird and waited, breathing heavily and waiting for
someone else to be the first to speak.

Just as Branko decided he should be the one to take charge,
he was the Dominant of the group after all, Helen stood.

“Good night, you two. It was fun. Many thanks, Branko, but I
imagine you and Adele need to talk.” She wound the blanket around herself a
little more securely and walked away, into the house.

Adele looked at Branko. “Maybe I’d better go too.”

“Let me come up with you.”

She nodded, so he followed her up the stairs to her rooms.

“Thank you,” she said as she reached the still-open door.
“That was quite wonderful.”

“Next time will be even better.”

“Is that possible?”

He grinned. Who wouldn’t? She was quite fantastic. “Oh yes,
next time I will plan things properly.”

“So was this time planned improperly?”

“You should be spanked for that impudence.”

“Before we do anything more, Helen was right, we need to
talk but not tonight.”

“Tomorrow,” he told her.

“Tomorrow,” she replied and gave him a sweet and chaste kiss
on his cheek.

He closed the door and waited until he heard her key turn in
the lock, then went back down. Great as he felt, he still had to clear away the
evidence of tonight’s encounter or the gardeners would have something to talk
about in the morning.

Adele turned off her alarm and lay back on the pillow. Total
bemusement was not too strong to describe her state of mind—and body come to
that. Every fiber of her body sent a very clear message that last night she’d
been well and truly fucked. But her mind pretty much refused to believe it had
happened. Had she really watched Branko tie Helen to the bench in the pergola
and, this was the most incredible bit, had she, Adele Royer, actually run out
into the night and demanded he fuck her there and then?

The fact he’d obliged most kindly and forcefully was clearly
imprinted in the deepest and most secret parts of her body and if that wasn’t
enough, she knew she’d worn a nightgown to bed last night and now she was
naked. Another, more immediate and down-to-earth fact was she had to get up and
do her job. She had breakfast to see to.

Thirty minutes later she had coffee brewing, she needed it
for a start, and was about to set out fruit and jam for breakfast when Helen
appeared in the doorway.

“Morning,” she said, then “
bonjour
” and went over to
the coffeepot. “Mind if I help myself? It’s just us anyway.”

“Not Branko?” She tried to keep the anxiety out but
suspected she sounded desperate.

Helen shook her head. “I doubt it.” Adele wanted to shake
her and ask “why?” but waited as best she could as Helen added milk to her
coffee and took a seat at the big kitchen table.

“Can I get you something?” Adele asked, reminding herself
her job was to feed all of them.

“Not yet, I need coffee first. Why don’t you sit down too,
since it’s just us?”

It was tempting, unprofessional, yes but… Adele refilled her
half-empty cup and joined Helen. She was not going to ask again about Branko.

She didn’t need to. “You asked about Branko,” Helen said.
“He’s seldom in for breakfast. He doesn’t live-in like we do.”

Yes, that she remembered but really, after last night… “And
he’ll probably be in late this morning. After he took you up to your room, he still
had to clear everything away. I bet by the time he headed home it was well
after midnight, maybe closer to one.”

“I see.” She did, really she did, but all the same.

“Look,” Helen went on. “I’m not telling you what to do,
don’t think that, but since Luc is still away but due back this evening,
there’s a good chance Branko will be in late, maybe not until this afternoon.
Why don’t you take the morning off? I can see to my own lunch if you don’t mind
me messing around your kitchen.”

“I intended to put together orders this morning.” She wasn’t
going to add that Branko was going to send them in for her. He was too much on
her mind as it was.

“Why not take them in yourself? You have the names of the
shops, don’t you?” Helen smiled. “That way it’s not even time off.”

Could she squeeze a whole day off? Branko wasn’t here and
Helen was more than amenable. “A good idea but what about dinner?”

“You need to see to it tonight. I got an email from Luc
saying he wants dinner at eight. He may well actually be here.”

“You mean he might not?”

“Yep. He’s notoriously unreliable. Madame Louise used to
fuss at him but I think you’d better not. At least not right off the bat.”

So she could take a few hours off and still have plenty of
time to prepare dinner.

“I think you’re right. Although it does feel odd to take a
day off the second day I’m on the job.”

“Working here is not your everyday sort of employment.”

She was right there. “Was last night’s activity typical?”

Helen took a slow taste of coffee as if to sort out her
words. “Last night was specially choreographed for your benefit. Although
neither of us expected you to jump in like that.”

Adele could feel the blush burn her face. She had been
brazen. “Did it shock you?’

“Surprised me but I think Branko was delighted.”

That was good to hear. She supposed. “What about when
Monsieur Prioux returns?”

“Luc and I are lovers. I’ve played with Branko some, like I
did yesterday. To answer the question you didn’t ask, this is definitely a
kinky household. After last night, I think you’ll fit right in.”

Except she really wasn’t here to stay for long. Or was she?
Even if she didn’t find her father, it seemed there were some very desirable
fringe benefits to this job.

* * * * *

Taking Helen’s word as authority and since Branko hadn’t
made any appearance by ten-thirty, which rather irked her royally, Adele took
advantage of a free morning and armed with suppliers and grocery lists plus the
two addresses in Nice she’d found in her mother’s bureau drove down the
mountain toward Nice.

She parked in the
Cours Saleya
and set off. Even with
a map, it took her a good forty minutes and asking directions three times
before she found it.

An old building now restored as apartments for the chic and
artsy crowd. No concierge, but by dint of pressing intercom buttons, Adele
found one person at home. A man who, through the muffled tones of the speaker,
informed her he’d been there for eight years since the building was renovated
and as far as he knew, no one knew anything of former residents before his time.

Questions asked in the shops underneath and across the
narrow street pretty much repeated what she’d learned already. A young waiter
in a café down the road did volunteer the information that according to his
grandmother the building had once been a safe house for the Resistance and a
brothel. Maybe both at once, Adele surmised. And before her father’s time.

One dead end so far. She finished her
petit café
and,
because she was ostensibly here for work, set off in search of the butcher,
baker, fishmonger and grocer that Branko had given her yesterday.

Branko! Why could he not have called or left a note? Was it
really that casual for him? Obviously yes, but damn it all she was not looking
for a lifelong commitment, just some more really fantastic sex and some
reassurance that he’d enjoyed it as much as she had.

She could phone him. She had his number after all but she
wasn’t going to, she was going to visit her suppliers, leave her orders and
come back with something wonderful for dinner tonight to impress her new
employer. By the time she’d done all that it would most likely be time to head
back.

A shame she didn’t have time to check the second address.

That would have to wait for another day off and it seemed
getting time off, if Monsieur Prioux was away, wasn’t too difficult.

* * * * *

“Not again, Branko!” Helen was running out of patience. This
had to be the fifth or sixth time he’d poked his head around her door. Okay,
that was a bit of an exaggeration, but at least the second or third. “She’s not
back yet.”

“I don’t understand why you gave her the day off.”

Maybe if she did have this conversation he’d go away and
leave her in peace. “Come on in then, but for the nth time, I did not give her
the day off. I suggested she go into Nice and visit the suppliers. She’s not
needed here until dinner.”

“So we had to have sandwiches for lunch.”

Heaven give her patience. “Since you didn’t saunter in until
well after lunch that was hardly a problem for you, was it?”

He let out a
tsk
of frustration. Perhaps she should
be kinder. Maybe. “What’s the matter, Branko?” Idiot question really. The
answer was written all over him from his creased brow to his fingers tapping
endlessly on the doorframe.

He took that as an invitation to come in and occupy her
spare chair. Better sort this out. “Well?” Silly question when things so
obviously weren’t.

“I keep thinking of last night.”

“Oh I see. You’re worried about letting me down.” Sarcastic,
yes, but he’d better understand it wasn’t all about him. “Don’t worry, Branko,
really. I ended up okay.”

“It’s not you,” he almost snapped. “It’s about Adele. I need
to talk to her.”

He did indeed. “You should have made an appearance earlier.
She was here and obviously expecting some sort of contact from you.” Honestly,
men were all the same. “How hard would it have been for you to call her? Email?
Dammit, you could have managed a text saying ‘last night was great!’”

He frowned. No, he scowled. “You’re a woman, you don’t
understand.”

Right on both points. “What’s the problem? Did she ruin your
nicely choreographed scene? Was that it? I didn’t see you complaining.”

“I am not complaining!” The way he said it rather gave that
impression. “It was just so…” He waved both hands in the air as if trying to
shoo away flies. He really was all to pieces.

“But you’re not happy.” He nodded. “In heaven’s name why
not? The intention last night was to get her attention. We did that in spades
and from where I was tied down flat on my back, it seemed to me you had a very
satisfactory end to the scene.” A lot better than hers.

“It is about Adele.” She’d figured that much out on her own
but since he seemed to be warming up to talk, she let him go on. “She surprised
me.”

“She rather surprised me too but I think you got the better
end of the deal.”

Another
tsk
. Perhaps flippancy was the wrong
approach. “Okay, Branko, what is your beef? We found out she was kinky and
wanted to fuck you. Most men would see that as a bonus, not a snag.”

“It is who she is. How she is, Helen, you do not understand
how it is for me.”

He was right there. “So tell me.”

“It is Adele, she is so young and sweet, almost shy and now,
it seems, she is not.”

As complaints from men went, it was a new one. “You mean
you’re disappointed she likes sex.” And pretty enthusiastic, close to rough,
sex at that.

“No, no, no! It is just I did not think she would be so…”

“So what? Sexy? Enthusiastic? Incredible? Wonderful?”
Honestly. Why was she even trying to understand?

“She is all those, but what am I to do now?”

“Talk to her. She darn well wanted to talk to you earlier
but who knows, she might have changed her mind by now.”

“But she is not here!” Dear heaven, it was as good as a wail
and while part of her rather enjoyed seeing self-confident, even arrogant at
times, Branko go all to pieces, she had work to do.

“Branko. You need to be having this conversation with Adele.
Not me. And if she’s so pissed with you that she never wants you to touch her
again, that’s your fault not hers. However, I got the distinct impression she
had great sex last night and this morning, at least, was rather inclined to
repeat the experience often and with variations. So, if you still have half a
brain, send her a text or call her and tell her you need to talk. And
meanwhile, if you don’t have any work, I most certainly do. So scram!”

With a shrug and more scowls and plenty of mutterings in a
language other than French, he left. Helen shut the door.

She had to catalog and sort out a series of engravings and
lithographs to form part of an exhibition at the Sex Museum in Amsterdam. And
she really wanted to be done before Luc got back. Otherwise he might spank her.
Now that was a prospect. Almost made her want to be deliberately slow.

* * * * *

Adele ignored his first two messages. He sent a third one
and after that Branko gave up, although part of him didn’t. Just thinking of
her and sending a text gave him an erection and that was ridiculous. No woman
ever did that to him. Seemed Adele Royer was the exception.

He was tempted to get into his car and drive off for a
couple of days to sort out his mind but reluctantly conceded Helen was right.
He did need to talk to Adele. Actually he needed to fuck and be fucked but that
had to wait.

Or did it?

He finally got a reply to his third text, hours later. It
simply said, “Okay. After dinner.”

He had hours to wait.

* * * * *

A satisfying and satisfactory day—in some respects. Adele
made herself known to the suppliers the household used and even had an
introduction to a new
charcutier
who was the son-in-law of the butcher.
After picking up enough supplies to keep her going a couple of days before the
deliveries started arriving, she was left with enough time to look up the
second address.

The house in a side street near the port turned out to be a
nightclub,
Velours Noir
. It was firmly closed for the day but her
repeated bell-ringing got the attention of a doorman who snippily, and
unnecessarily, informed her the club was closed and, as a parting shot before
he slid the judas peephole closed, informed her admission was for members only.

Walking away, Adele wished she’d had the presence of mind to
ask if anyone knew a Monsieur Jules Royer but she’d missed the chance. Maybe
she’d come back one evening and try her luck again.

Trouble was, three solid weeks of web searches and Googling
had produced nothing. She’d found several Jules Royers—neither was exactly an
uncommon name after all—but between an eighteen-year-old student in Caen and an
octogenarian living in a home in Strasbourg, none was the right age to be her
father.

Enough for today. She had weeks ahead. Months even and now
she really should get back and cook a dinner to impress her new employer.

And face Branko.

She’d ignored two text messages but had replied to the
third. He could wait. Might give her time to decide what she was going to say
to him. Starting off with “Fuck me again, please” just might make her appear a
bit too desperate.