In Deep (6 page)

He left her and Jaidyn’s right hand shot down to wrap around his hard flesh. His eyes closed as he pumped into the tunnel her fingers created for him. His climax wrenched her name from him in a coarse roar.

When his head fell forward and the haze of gratified pleasure vanished from his eyes, he looked down his body to see her milking every last drop out of him, his semen dripping over her fingers and onto her lower belly. Once he was completely spent, her hand retreated and she wiped it on the bed sheet.

Jaidyn met his stare and smiled at the utter amazement she found there. Her arms snaked up around his back, guiding him down to her. He fell into her embrace, burying his head in her hair. She stroked his broad back with loving caresses.

His strong heart was thumping in an erratic rhythm against her sternum, his muscular shoulders heaving with the deep breaths he took. His weight on her, the way their bodies melded like they’d been made for each other … It felt so good. So right.

She wrapped her arms as much around him as she could. She dug her fingers deep into the powerful muscles in his back, suddenly overcome by an odd urge to hold on to him. In that moment, Jaidyn longed to be just a woman,
his
woman, and not struggle on her own with her secrets.

If only there was a way to turn the fantasy of her time with Connor into reality. She wanted so much to lay all her burdens at his feet and trust him to make everything right again. She was sorely tempted to share her secrets,
all
of her
real
secrets, with him.

But she couldn’t. As close as they’d become, it had still been only a short time. Even if she confided in him and he agreed to help her, there was no future for them outside the dream he’d created for them in this room.

Bracing himself on his forearms, Connor took away most of his weight. His hands came up and he brushed a few wayward strands from her face.

His eyes flicked to her lips. Her heart jolted in her chest.

Would he kiss her? Finally kiss her?

He had not kissed her all this time. She longed to feel those wonderful, gentle lips that could do such amazing things to her body. She’d never yearned for a kiss. To her it had always been overrated, all that slobbering and that unpleasant feel of someone else’s tongue roaming her mouth for her uvula. But with Connor, Jaidyn had a feeling that his kiss would be wonderful, just like the rest of what he did to her.

Jaidyn couldn’t help wetting her lips. Her breath came shallow and fast. Her stomach gave an excited flutter when he brought his lips closer to hers.

They were just an inch apart.

Her own lips quivered in anticipation. He tilted his head a little and Jaidyn lifted her head to close the distance, longing for his lips to brush over hers, yearning to taste him …

Suddenly his supple mouth tensed to a displeased, pale line. That gentle glow in his eyes froze over. He mumbled something under his breath and instead of kissing her, he was gone from the bed so fast, Jaidyn shuddered with bewilderment. A cool, empty foreboding settled where his warm body had been.

Connor stalked to the washstand, filling the china bowl with water. Splashing his face a few times, dragging his wet fingers through his shiny raven hair, he then let his head fall forward. His shoulders slumped as if he was weary.

Jaidyn didn’t understand what was happening or what had his mood turn sour all of a sudden.

“Connor?” To her surprise, her own voice sounded unbearably feeble in her confusion.

He didn’t move. Neither did he answer. After taking two more deep breaths, he reached for a small washcloth on the stand beside the bowl, immersed it, and wrung it out. Tossing the wet cloth at her without looking back, he growled, “Clean up.”

“Connor, what’s wrong?” With shaky hands, she took the washcloth that had landed next to her.

He still didn’t talk to her. Her warm, teasing lover had become distant and cold.

This wasn’t the man she’d just spent two glorious days with.

Neglecting to tie his hair back, he put on his clothes, still draped over the chair, in a hurry.

Jaidyn sat stunned on the bed, helplessly watching the fantasy world of the last few days fade back into harsh reality so swiftly and unexpectedly that her head and her heart both ached.

He stalked to the door.

There he looked back at her. She could see the scorn and contempt in his eyes. He was leaving her. Just like that.

Biting her lower lip, Jaidyn averted her eyes and reached blindly for the blanket, turning away from the door, away from him. She couldn’t bear to watch him go. She thought her heart was smashed into a thousand pieces. She covered herself even more, hiding her face in the sheet, and blinked a lonely tear away. The stifling feeling of yet another betrayal made her heart howl and thud like a wounded beast against the bars in her chest.

The doorknob turned.

And the worst part of it all was, she couldn’t even blame him. She’d fooled herself.

Jaidyn flinched when the door fell shut.

Then there was silence. Silence, confusion, and an ache in the soul so bad and abrupt she thought she’d go mad.

_____________________________

L
ooking out the window to the busy street below, Jaidyn sighed to herself. Here she was, right back in Madame Poivre’s sitting room that was tucked away at the very back of the house. The room was different than the rest of the bawdy house or whatever fancy name the Madame preferred. Still, it was what it was. But in here friendly cream-colored wallpapers with golden fleurs-de-lis patterns welcomed her; a cream and burgundy striped settee invited her to sit.

Only a week before, Jaidyn had bravely declared she was willing to do anything to earn as much money as possible to get to Georgetown in the Carolinas. The Madame was reluctant, but Jaidyn had insisted.

And what did she have to show for it now? A broken heart and the knowledge that she couldn’t continue to do this. After all she’d been through, she couldn’t have imagined that it could have gotten any worse.

Jaidyn was hurt and angry. But at least this time it had been her own fault. She’d decided to go to work for the Madame.

She’d been a bloody fool, let herself get caught up in her own stupid fantasies and fall for Connor. She’d known it was wrong.

It couldn’t have lasted anyway.

It was stupid, and there was really no one to blame but herself.

The sound of the door opening drew her out of her thoughts. Madame Poivre and her turban swept into the room and Jaidyn gave her a hesitant smile. Silently, they both took their seats at the small tea table. After a quick perusal, the knowing look in the Madame’s eyes had Jaidyn ever more wary.

“Vell, my dear Jaidyn.” The rouge on the older woman’s lips was melting into the tiny wrinkles around her mouth as she frowned. “I ’ate to say it, but you look a little vorse for vear.”

Jaidyn took the cup she offered, her mouth as dry as parched leather. The sleeves bit into her shoulders and upper arms. The stomacher was too wide and the skirts ended above her ankles, but what could you expect from a borrowed dress? “Actually, what I’d like to talk to you about has something to do with that.”

“I can only imagine.” Madame Poivre let out a grave sigh that sounded a bit too exaggerated. “And if you don’t mind me asking, it vouldn’t be because you ’ave fallen for Monsieur O’Driscole, vould it?”

Jaidyn’s cup shook slightly in her hand, so she set it back down. “No, of course not,” she retorted quickly.

“Tut-tut-tut!” Madame Poivre clucked her tongue. “I alvays tell my girls that is the number one rule!” She flicked her wrist and rolled her eyes, gasping, “But there you go vith your very first client.”

“But I didn’t!” Jaidyn protested. Perhaps if she denied it often enough, she’d believe it herself.

Madame Poivre waved her objection away and that blasted turban jiggled like flotsam, chiming in the Madame’s disapproval.

“Oh please, you think after all this time in the business I can’t tell.”

“Fine.” Suppressing a grumble, Jaidyn crossed her arms on her chest and tapped a foot a few times. There was no point in contradicting her any more.

“So now maybe you’ll agree vith me that this isn’t the best vay to earn your passage north?”

Squaring her shoulders, Jaidyn thrust her chin up. “Yes. But what can I do?”

Madame Poivre patted her knee in a soothing manner. “There must be something else. Vat other skills do you ’ave?”

Jaidyn searched her brain for something else she could be of assistance with here. Sadly, nothing came to her mind. She wasn’t even fit to clean carpets, never having done such chores before.

“As I said before …” Jaidyn hated that her voice sounded so meek. “I’m best with–”

“Yes, yes, ’orses, I know. I can’t use that. And you don’t make ’ats.”

Jaidyn shook her head. “I never especially liked hats. Neither wearing nor embellishing them.” In her frustration, Jaidyn picked up a currant cake and took a huge bite.

“Sew or embroider?”

Ridding the corner of her mouth of a few stray crumbs with the tip of her tongue, she gulped down the bun. “I kept pricking myself too much.”

“Hmm.” Madame Poivre tapped the side of the sugar cone with her teaspoon. “Maybe you could entertain clients in some vay vile they vait. Do you sing?”

“Not well, no.” Jaidyn was tempted to reach for another roll of currant cake.

“Do you play the pianoforte?”

“I quit my lessons when I was ten. I couldn’t stand the boredom,” Jaidyn conceded and forced her uncommonly greedy gaze away from the plate of sweets.

Madame Poivre raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “The fiddle, then? Surely an Irish girl like you can–”

“Sorry.” Jaidyn blushed.

“Vell, I can’t imagine you vere on ’orseback your entire life. Is there not anything else you did to pass the time?”

“I did catch toads and hide them in my mother’s bed.” Was that a talent to be exploited here? Jaidyn wondered. “The maid making her bed always gave such a funny squeal.”

Then Jaidyn thought of another thing she was good at. “My cousins taught me to use bow and arrow.” It was still so painful thinking of what a wonderful life she’d had back in Ireland and how far away it all seemed now.

“Non, non, non.”
Rolling her eyes, the Madame pulled a small flask from her pocket and added the contents to her tea. When she offered to add the liquor to Jaidyn’s cup as well, Jaidyn held her hand up to say no.

“Did you never ’ave ’ouseguests or parties? Is there not anything you did for entertainments?”

Jaidyn stopped short. “Yes, of course we had parties.”

“And?” Madame Poivre nodded with glee to encourage her to continue.

“Plays,” Jaidyn stated. “We would stage plays or just collections of scenes people were familiar with, sometimes musicals–but I only helped with the scenery and costumes on those.”

Madame Poivre rose from her seat. Teaspoon still in hand, she paced the room, tapping it on her chin while the turban bobbed in thoughtful unison.

“Scenery … and costumes … staging …” Jaidyn was convinced the Madame’s mumbled soliloquy was actually a dialogue between her and her turban.

When Madame Poivre slapped the spoon loudly on the palm of her other hand, Jaidyn jumped in her seat.

“My dear, I think that’s it!”

“What is?” Jaidyn narrowed a skeptical eye at her. “You want me to put on plays here?”

“Not the plays themselves, but the scenes.” Madame Poivre looked triumphant. She obviously thought herself and her idea very clever.

Jaidyn was still confused. “The scenes? What do you mean?”

“Well, you see, there are always those clients who prefer a little drama with the love play. We ’ave an extensive variety of costumes and quite a few props for that matter, but vat if I could give them the ’ole fantasy?”

Seemingly enamored with her new idea, she was pacing faster now using her hands in grand gestures to illustrate her points. “Say there is a customer who wants to play a duke spanking a naughty maid. Or the sheep to a shepherdess. Or a majordomo in Macao …”

Now Jaidyn was getting the idea. “I think I know what you mean. So, instead of the room looking like a bedroom, it would look like a study, or a field, or the Orient?”

Cupping her chin, Madame Poivre muttered, “I wonder how much they would pay to not just ’ave the girl dolled up in their choice but the ’ole scene set for their personal fantasy experience.”

Deep in her own thoughts already, Jaidyn didn’t listen to the Madame’s deliberation. There was one problem the Madame might have overlooked. “That might get rather expensive.”

Madame Poivre wagged her finger at her in a friendly way as if to say she’d thought of it already. “So ven you staged these plays you spent a fortune each time?”

Now that Jaidyn thought about it … “No, we were clever about using what people had with them, what we had on hand in the house and what we might be able to paint or have the staff craft.”

“You see, there is a talent I can use!” Madame Poivre threw both hands in the air. “Create a fantasy room for me at a reasonable price and if it’s a ’it I will pay you vell for it. Not as much as you vould have made if you’d continued, but enough. Oh, and I almost forgot …”

Walking to the desk, she pulled out a pouch. “Here. That should be a good start toward your goal in addition to vat you’ll make vith our grand new idea.”

When Madame Poivre went back to her seat, she tossed the bag onto Jaidyn’s lap. It felt rather heavy, so she pulled the drawstring and peeked inside. She was shocked with what she found. “What is this?”

The moment she’d spoken, she knew. It was Connor’s money. Her heart sank while at the same time she fought the urge to toss the pouch into the cold fireplace or out the window.

“It’s much more than we agreed on before.” Jaidyn’s voice broke. She didn’t want it. But she needed to get to the Carolinas. And that was more important than that scoundrel Connor O’Driscoll.

“I know.” The Madame looked highly amused with herself. “At the last minute, Monsieur O’Driscole saw fit to pay for ’is time ’ere plus ten more days.”