Club Wicked 2: My Wicked Nanny (25 page)

Hating to disturb her mood but needing to take care of her,
he cleaned her as gently as he could. The wipes made her whimper a bit, and he
felt a twinge of guilt that he’d used her so hard. He hadn’t meant to; it was
just that when they were together, it felt natural to give her everything he
had, as rough as she wanted. Even the bite mark on her ass that would become a
bruise would be something she would see or touch and smile. He’d seen her do it
often enough this week, brushing her hand over a spot he’d marked on her, a
content smile curving her lips.

She was an absolute treasure.

“Anya, sit up, sweetheart.”

She made a grumpy noise but didn’t move.

“I need to give you your reward.”

She giggled, an almost tipsy sound. “You just did.”

“While I appreciate the flattery, I had something else in
mind.” He sat back on the pillows and hauled her against him so she sat between
his thighs with her head resting against his shoulder, facing the mirrors.

Her reflection gave him a lazy smile. “You are so awesome.”

Shaking his head, he rubbed his cheek against her, earning
him a squeal as his beard scratched her. “I know. Anya, I want you to wear
something, if you’re willing.”

“You know I’ll do anything you want, Jesse. You only have to
ask me.”

Gathering his courage, he held up the black velvet ribbon in
front of her. A two-carat pear-shaped diamond dangled from the antique platinum
fastening on the ribbon.

She stiffened against him, her gaze going between his
reflection in the mirror and the pendant. “Oh, Jesse, I couldn’t.”

“Listen to what I have to say first.” He dropped the
necklace into her hands, and she grabbed it reflexively. “This is a temporary
collar. I would like you to wear it until you go to Paris.”

Her lower lip trembled, and she looked up at him with tears
in her eyes. “I don’t want to go.”

“Baby, you have to go.”

“You don’t want me here?”

He sighed, pulling her close and cuddling her. In his
experience, submissives sometimes felt very vulnerable after an intense scene.
“Of course I do, but I want you to go to Paris even more. And not because I
don’t want you. You need to go to Paris to figure out what you want.”

She turned in his arms, seeking his gaze. “I want you.”

The raw emotion in her voice tugged at his heart. “And I
want you, but you still need to go to Paris. Anya, you’ve been planning this
for years. Go, enjoy yourself. You only get an opportunity like this once in a
lifetime. I want you to relish what the world has to offer. And if at the end
of your time over there, you still want to be with me when you come home, we’ll
see how it works.”

She curled into his arms and turned her face against his
chest. “The thought of leaving you breaks my heart.”

“Baby, don’t say that. The time will pass before you know
it. Maybe you’ll meet some young French guy over there who will sweep you off
your feet. Then I’ll have to go find and kill him.”

She giggled against him, but it was a fragile sound. “Can I
wear this crystal necklace in Paris? If I have to be over there, I want
everyone who looks at me to know who I belong to.”

He opened his mouth to tell her it was a diamond, then shut
it again. He didn’t need her freaking out if anything happened to it. After
all, it was just a rock. “Of course.”

She held the pendant up to the light of the candles, turning
it back and forth. “It’s very pretty. I, well, I mean, you don’t have to do
this at all, but I was kinda hoping that maybe if I waited for you, that you
would wait for me? I mean, if you don’t date anyone, I won’t.”

He nuzzled his face against her hair, breathing her in and
savoring her warmth. “As if anyone could replace you.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, Anya. I won’t date anyone else while you’re in Paris
as long as you do the same.”

She let out a long, low breath, and he realized she’d been
really worried about that.

“Have I given you some indication that I wanted to date
other people?”

“Well, no, but look at you. Women have to be throwing
themselves at your feet everywhere you go.” She scowled. “Diane said something
about you going out with a different woman every night.”

He promised himself next time he saw his former
sister-in-law they were going to sit down for a long chat. “Did you believe
her?”

“Well, no. I’d seen you both Friday and Saturday that week,
so I knew she was wrong.”

He smiled and gently moved her off his lap. “Come on. Let me
put your collar on, and we can go see if my mom and the boys are back yet with
ice cream.”

Her cheeks flooded with color, and she quickly stood. “Oh my
goodness. How long have we been in here? Did they hear us?”

“No, this room is soundproofed. You can scream and cry all
you want, and no one will hear you except me.”

She fluttered her lashes at him before moving aside her
braid so he could clasp the black velvet ribbon in place. Once it was on, he kissed
the nape of her neck and watched the diamond sparkle in the hollow of her
throat. She touched it and smiled up at him. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”

“I lov— I’m glad you like it.”

She blinked, then turned away so he couldn’t see her face.
“Let’s get dressed and go eat some ice cream. Then we can watch a movie with
the boys and your mom.”

He followed after her, wanting to jerk her back in his arms,
plead with her not to go, but unable to get past his sense of right and wrong.
And knowing he was doing the right thing didn’t make letting Anya go any
easier. Especially when he’d seen the joy in her eyes when he almost told her
the truth.

He loved her.

The busy crowd at the entrance to the line to get through
airport security flowed around Anya as she looked up at Jesse. A few feet away,
her father was talking with Jesse’s mother, still a little flustered at Anya’s
abrupt admission that she was dating her boss and that Jesse and his family
would also be coming to say good-bye. Her father kept running his hand through
his thinning gray hair, and her brothers weren’t sure if they should be pissed
or happy.

Jesse shifted against her, and all of it faded away. His
intense brown gaze poured into her soul, and she wondered anew how she was ever
going to manage without it. These last two weeks had been some of the happiest
of her life. The thought of leaving him was killing her inside. The fact that
he was making her go didn’t help, leaving her at once sad and mad.

“Please, Jesse, one more month. I promise I’ll go to Paris
afterwards.”

“Baby, you’re killing me.” He brushed her hair back from her
cheek, pausing to cup her chin. “If I set you free and—”

“If you start quoting that stupid line about setting
something free and if it comes back, it is meant to be, I’ll kick you in the
shins.”

His lips twitched in a smile but didn’t chase the sorrow
from his own expression. “Don’t be sassy with me, girl. You need the time in
Paris in ways you’ll understand when you’re older.”

“That’s another thing. Just because you are older than me
doesn’t mean you know everything.” She placed her hand over his heart, feeling
the solid thump beneath her palm. “Why would I want to leave when you’re all
I’ve ever wanted?”

Taking her hand in his own, he brought it to his mouth and
rubbed his lips against her knuckles. “Three months, Anya. I expect you to
enjoy the wonders Paris has to offer, not sit in your apartment by yourself and
pine away like some actress in an old romance movie. I expect you to send me
pictures of the things you see, the places you go. Allow me to live there with
you through your eyes.”

She lifted her chin. “I may barely think about you when I’m
over there.”

This time his grin reached his eyes. “Well, I’ll have to
endeavor to find ways to remain in your thoughts.”

“And that’s another thing, why only e-mail? Why can’t I call
you?”

“Because I can’t resist you, Anya. Even now I want to bundle
you up and take you home with me, but that is absolutely the wrong thing to do.
I want you, all of you, but I want you to understand what you would be giving
up to be with me.”

“I do understand, and I don’t care!”

Jesse pulled her into his arms, resting his head on top of
hers. “Easy, baby. Write to me, tell me about your adventures working with the
French dancers, what fabulous food you got to eat that day, how you like the
Louvre. Your letters will be the highlight of my day.”

She buried her face against his chest. “Will you be going to
Wicked without me?”

“Yes, but only to watch and be with friends. My heart is
already spoken for.”

With a deep sigh she pushed away from him and swallowed
hard. “Okay, I have to go.”

Holding her hand, he led her back to her family so she could
make her good-byes. She managed to hold her tears back until it was Teddy’s and
Mark’s turns to hug her. They didn’t quite understand what was going on, only
that Anya would be gone for a long time. She loved them as much as she loved
Jesse, and when they cried because they were going to miss her, she couldn’t
help the tears that flowed down her face.

Jesse carefully pulled her away and gave her a gentle,
devastating kiss before handing her the sheet of paper with her flight
information on it. All too soon she found herself alone in the security line,
trying to wipe away her tears with the sleeve of her shirt while the people
around her pretended not to notice. The rest of the journey to her terminal
went by in a blur, her mind too stuffed with thoughts and her heart aching in
her chest.

She’d arrived in plenty of time to catch her flight, so she
sat down and stared out the window, seeing nothing and not really thinking
anything either. It was a state akin to being in subspace but emptier. Instead
of being surrounded by pleasure in the depths of her soul, she floated alone in
the sky. Cupping her hands to her nose, she could still smell him on her skin.

* * * *

Anya looked out the window of her taxi taking her through
the streets of Paris, her sorrow momentarily pushed aside by the beauty of the
city. She was on her way to her home for the summer and practically had her
nose pressed to the window of the cab as they drove past all the places she’d
dreamed of seeing. Part of her wanted to tell the cab driver to stop right now
so she could get out and walk around the city, but she had her suitcase and
carry-on still with her. Most of her clothing had been shipped over earlier and
should be waiting for her at the flat she was renting in the theater district
off Rue de Richelieu.

The traffic in this section of the city was insane, and she listened
with half an ear as her taxi driver cursed beneath his breath when he narrowly
avoided hitting the car in front of them. They were getting closer to the heart
of the city, and Anya’s anticipation increased until she was fidgeting in her
seat. All her years of hard work, all her studying and busting her ass learning
her craft had finally paid off.

If only Jesse were here, it would be perfect.

The tears started to well up again, but she swallowed hard
and blinked them back. No, she wasn’t going to cry in front of strangers.
Later, when she was alone in her apartment, she’d have her breakdown.

The cab driver pulled up to the curb on the narrow street
they were on and said to her in French, “Here we are.”

Thanking her grandmother for taking the time to teach her
French, she replied, “Thank you so much.”

After retrieving her possessions from the back of the cab,
she stood on the sidewalk before the elegant building that was to be her home
for the next three months. Located within walking distance of the Opéra
Comique, where she’d be doing her internship, the white-painted building with
its beautiful black wrought-iron balconies looking out into the street took her
breath away.

Anya had Jesse to thank for finding this place for her. On
her own Anya would have ended up in some student ghetto on the outskirts of
Paris, but Jesse had made sure she was in the best place possible. Before Anya
forgot, she took out her phone and snapped a picture of the front of the
building for him.

A flower shop occupied the main floor of the building, and
bright tulips of every color sat in a raised metal bucket outside the front
door. Anya turned so she could take pictures up and down the street, making
note of the coffeehouse nearby and a bakery. When she turned back, a lovely woman
with salt-and-pepper hair and dressed in an elegant blue summer dress hailed
her from the entrance to the flower shop.

“Hello, are you Anya Kozlov?”

Shoving her phone back in her purse, Anya nodded. “Hello.
You must be Claudette.”

The woman came down the steps and made her way over the
sidewalk to where Anya still stood with her luggage. Claudette gave her a kiss
on either cheek, the smell of earth and plants drifting from her. “Your French
is wonderful. Welcome to Paris, Anya.”

“Thank you so much. My grandmother grew up near the Parc des
Buttes-Chaumont before she moved to the United States in the 1960s.”

The women chatted about Paris as Claudette led her up the
narrow steps to the second level of the building. According to her, Paul, the
owner of the building and a banker, lived on the third floor, while Claudette
occupied most of the second. They kept the old servant quarters as a rental,
which was where Anya would be staying.

They reached the door to Anya’s apartment, and Claudette
handed Anya her key. “I’ll give you a few moments to settle in while I go get
Paul. He’s eager to meet you.”

“Thank you.”

She slipped the key into the lock while Claudette walked
back the way they’d come, her heels clicking on the polished wood floors.
Taking a deep breath, Anya turned the key and opened the door to her flat. At
the first sight of her new home, she couldn’t help but smile at the huge vase
of pink roses sitting on a small breakfast table.