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Authors: Bertrice Small

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary

Passionate Pleasures (3 page)

BOOK: Passionate Pleasures
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“What do you want, my dear?” he replied.
“Don’t you know?” she teased him, moving so close to him that the tips of her breasts brushed against the fabric of his beautifully cut suit jacket.
He took her upturned face between his two elegant hands. Looking into her face, his black eyes seemed to be filled with flames. “Yes, I know,” he said softly against her ripe lips. “You shall have exactly what you desire, Kathy. You shall have as much of it as you want, and you will not be disappointed, I promise you.”
And once Nicholas had relieved her of her virginity, Kathryn St. John had set about to indulge her lusts. But because she wanted no scandal attached to her family’s name, she kept her active sex life to her adventures in The Channel. The single men in Egret Pointe were always available for a dance at the country club or dinner and a movie; however, the pool of men her age grew smaller as the years passed. By the time she was thirty-five, the town gossips had given up trying to match her.
She hadn’t even bothered an attempt at catching the bride’s bouquet at her brother’s wedding, although Debora pitched the flowers directly at her. The delicate roses and stephanotis had ended up in the hands of a squealing teenage relation on the bride’s side, who shrieked gleefully as she elbowed Kathryn aside to get to the flowers.
No, Kathryn St. John needed no one. She sipped her coffee slowly, and considered the day ahead. She had her weekly staff meeting at eleven this morning.
It was time to discuss the Christmas Book Fair, which meant getting in touch with all the contacts she had made over the years for new-book donations. And she had to decide on the new Web site for the library. Kathryn smiled to herself. Great-aunt Lucretia would have been very taken aback by how complicated the business of running a library had become.
Libraries were no longer just in the business of loaning out books. The Egret Pointe Library had published a vision statement several years back. In it they set out the ways in which they would and could serve their community. The library sponsored a series of concerts on the village green each summer. They had wonderful programs for children from toddlers on up. Their summer-reading contest for ’tweens would shortly be coming to an end, and the winners announced. They would get the treat of their choice at Walt’s ice-cream shop. Each Friday evening in February at seven P.M. the library had what they called Family Movie Night. It was a very popular program with family-oriented films being shown. And the library was far more accessible on a snowy winter’s night than the local cineplex at the mall several miles away.
One of the most popular programs, however, was the computer classes that were given for seniors. Many of Egret Pointe’s older citizens had children and grandchildren living far away now. Becoming computer literate let them stay in touch. Yes, indeed, Great-aunt Lucretia would have been very surprised by what the library was doing today. And not just books were available for loan now. There were DVDs and videotapes too. This new technology demanded they do more and more to remain relevant. Kathy wondered if it would be possible to loan out Kindle readers. Could libraries get subscriptions to download books for their readers? How would publishers charge for it? A onetime fee? Would there be a discount? She would have to keep an eye on it for the future.
Mavis stuck her head in the door. “Time for the staff meeting,” she said.
Kathryn St. John rose from her desk, gathering up a small pile of papers to take with her. The meeting would be held as it always was in the library boardroom. Her staff of six was already there and waiting when she hurried in with Mavis. “Good morning, everyone!” she greeted them.
“Good morning, Miss Kathy,” the staff chorused back.
“Anyone have any old or new business?” she asked, knowing the answer but asking anyway. “No? All right then, let’s get to the preplanning of our annual Christmas Book Fair. Caroline, I’d like you to continue to deal with the paperback houses.”
“No problem,” Caroline said.
“Does anyone have an idea of what the Merchants Association is doing this year for Christmas windows?” Kathryn asked.
“Dickens,” Mavis answered. “A Dickens Christmas.”
“Then I think it would be fun if the volunteers dressed in the appropriate costumes for the fair this year,” Kathryn said. “What does everyone think?”
“Once we know who’s volunteering to work the fair, I can get the costumes,” Peter Potter, the only man on the library staff, said. “I have friends in the city who can help us with that.”
“That would be wonderful! Thank you, Peter,” Kathryn replied. “Let’s put out the call for volunteers right after Labor Day.”
There were murmurs of assent.
“We should do something special for the kids,” Marcia Merryman, the children’s librarian, said. “We may have a few games relevant to the period for them to play, along with suitable prizes. I can research it.”
“Perfect!” Kathryn agreed. “Now we have to pick a date, people. How about Saturday, December fourth? It’s after the Thanksgiving rush, but before people have bought all their gifts. Remember, this is our big fund-raiser. We can’t depend entirely on the taxpayers these days. The budget just squeaked by in May.”
“We’ve always done well,” Mavis said.
“We have to do better this year,” Kathryn responded. “We should make the Book Fair more interactive. And we need other sources of income from it.”
“Food!” Susan Porter suggested. “Hot mulled cider, little mincemeat pies, hearty soup, and tea sandwiches, that kind of thing. Maybe even a corner where we could set up a tearoom. People are always more amenable when you feed them. They’ll come. Buy a book or two. Eat, and then buy more books.”
“That is very clever!” Kathryn chuckled. “You’re in charge of that, Susan!”
“Oh my, me?” Susan Porter squealed turning pink with excitement. She was a short, plump woman with short, tight iron-gray curls.
“You,” Kathryn repeated. “Make it profitable, Susan.”
“I’ll help with the pricing,” Mavis volunteered dourly, a little jealous that Susan Porter had come up with such a really good idea.
“I will handle the hardcover houses as usual,” Kathryn said. “I think that’s all we have to do today. I’ll expect reports on your efforts two weeks from now. Anyone have anything else to bring up?”
“The staff bathroom has problems again,” Peter murmured.
Kathryn sighed. “I’ll call the plumber,” she said. “We need a new commode, and I’ve been trying to avoid the expense. I guess we can’t anymore.”
The meeting concluded, Kathryn returned to her office. The rest of the day seemed to disappear amid all of the busywork she had to do.
“Closing time,” Mavis reminded her at seven P.M.
Kathryn decided she would be glad when summer hours were over, and she could close up the library at five P.M. Locking up, she bid her friend good night, and walked through the library’s back garden to her cottage. Mrs. Bills, her housekeeper, had left a cold plate of chicken salad and sliced tomatoes in the fridge. Kathryn poured herself a glass of Duck Walk Windmill Blush and took her plate out to the little brick terrace off the dining room to eat.
The mid-August heat was actually visible hanging in the trees, and the tree frogs were in full voice tonight. They were such tiny creatures, and you rarely saw them. But, oh my, at this time of year you certainly heard them. Kathryn ate slowly, enjoying both her meal and the wine. Windmill Blush was one of her favorites. She lingered with her glass as the light faded and it grew dark. There was a new moon tonight that quickly set, and the moist haze made it difficult to see the stars. Unless they got a cool front in another day the Perseid meteor showers wouldn’t be visible this year. Actually there hadn’t been a good Perseids in several years. But when it was clear and moonless, the meteor shower was glorious.
The dew was beginning to fall. Kathryn got up, taking her plate and glass with her to rinse and set in the dishwasher. Then, making certain the doors and windows were locked, she went upstairs. She had added central air to the house when she renovated, but being frugal, put in two zones. She pressed the button on the ON switch in the hall outside her bedroom suite before entering, programming it for seventy-two degrees. By the time she got out of her shower the upstairs would be comfortable.
Going into the large bathroom, Kathryn turned the jets on in her glassed-in shower. Then she went back into the bedroom to kick off her leather loafers, peel off her khaki cotton skirt, white tee, silk briefs, and silk and lace bra. Beautiful undergarments were her weakness, and Egret Pointe was fortunate to have a delicious shop,
Lacy Nothings
, that catered to women who loved silk-and-lace underthings. She hung up the skirt and deposited the other garments in her dirty-clothes bin.
Turning, Kathryn looked at herself in the ornate full-length mirror in the room. Not bad for an old broad, she decided. Having never had children, she had managed to keep her belly pretty flat. It had just a hint of roundness to it. Her boobs were still pretty perky and her ass hadn’t started to fall yet. Reaching up, she undid her hair, and the red-gold curls spilled over her shoulders. Kathryn St. John smiled at her image. Naked, with that wild hair, she hardly resembled the town’s proper librarian. With a chuckle she went into the bathroom, and opening the glass door, stepped into her shower.
The warm water felt wonderful. The shower had a full dozen jets that spurted at her from all angles. Reaching for her apricot shampoo, she quickly washed her hair, then, tucking it up and securing it with a large tortoiseshell pin, she washed herself. What was she in the mood for tonight? Her French fantasy with the Three Musketeers? No. She just wanted a good fucking, not three randy soldiers eagerly probing her every orifice all at the same time. Cleopatra and Caesar or Cleopatra and Anthony? Definitely not! She was not of a mind to deal with strong personalities tonight. Did she want to be Bess, the innkeeper’s daughter, entertaining her highwayman lover? No. That fantasy was far too intense, and she didn’t want intense tonight.
She wanted fun and games, she decided, as she washed herself with a hard-milled olive-oil soap from Italy. And fun and games usually meant Lady St. John and the eighteenth century. Yes, it was that kind of a night. A lusty and uninhibited young lover, a game of hide-and-seek in the manor gardens, a forbidden tumble in a dimly lit hayloft, and then spying on Lord St. John and a housemaid. She might even join them.
Kathryn giggled. It was perfect, and just what she needed. And it wouldn’t even take the entire evening. She would be in and out of The Channel in quick order, relaxed and ready for a good night’s sleep. Finished washing, she set the soap back in its dish, rinsed herself off, and turned off the shower. She stepped out of the glass enclosure, reached for a towel, dried herself, and damp-dried her hair before giving it a quick blow-dry. Then, folding her towel and placing it back on the rack, she reentered her bedroom.
Pulling back the coverlet on the bed, Kathryn climbed in naked. Opening her nighttable drawer, she took out the remote and pointed it at the beautiful painted cupboard opposite her four-poster bed. She pressed a button, and the doors to the cupboard swung open to reveal a large flat-screen television. The remote in her hand contained at least half a dozen buttons, marked A through F. There were only a very few of these special remotes, for the majority of them contained only two buttons. A and B.
Kathryn St. John had introduced The Channel to Egret Pointe, and by doing so had unknowingly brought it to all the women who wanted it on the North American continent. The CEO of The Channel Corporation had, although Kathryn certainly didn’t know it, a soft spot for her. It was unusual for Mr. Nicholas to show any weakness. The Channel had been created for one reason, and one alone. To lure women to the dark side.
If out of a hundred thousand subscribers he found one woman he could use, Mr. Nicholas counted it a victory. Oddly, ordinary women didn’t succumb to his lure, but then he didn’t want ordinary women. He wanted clever, intelligent women, who could be useful.
Egret Pointe had to his great surprise given him two women to use for his nefarious purposes. Nora Buckley and Annie Marshall. Both now worked for him. Both owed him their very lives. But Mr. Nicholas wanted Kathryn St. John too, and so he saw that she was spoiled by being given one of the special remotes that would allow her several fantasies to choose from, and not just two. Being well-read, he found she had a marvelous imagination, and quite enjoyed watching the fantasies she had programmed. Having personally taken her virginity years ago, he took great pleasure in seeing how truly lusty and adventurous she had become over the years.
Kathryn paused a moment, making certain within her own mind of the fantasy she had chosen for tonight. Yes, naughty fun and even naughtier games would suit. She pressed the button marked C, and immediately found herself in a green garden maze.
She was wearing a low-necked flowered pale blue silk dress, a line of little bows edging the full skirt’s paniers. Her hair was long, and dressed in thick ringlets.
“Kathy? Where are you?” she heard a voice she recognized as that of her stepson, Robert St. John. He was her husband’s offspring from his first marriage.
She giggled just enough for him to hear, and moved stealthily through the maze. “Catch me if you can, Robbie,” she teased.
“Oh, I can catch you, Kathy, and when I do, you will be given a sound spanking for being such a naughty girl. Does my father know how naughty you are?” he asked.
“Of course.” She laughed. “Why else would he have married the daughter of a poor vicar? Your mother, God rest her, gave him three sturdy sons. Henry didn’t need another wife. A nice mistress would have suited him well, but I wouldn’t settle for being just a mistress. I gave him just a little taste of paradise, and then withdrew myself from him. If he wanted me, he had to wed me, and he did.” She listened for his footsteps.
BOOK: Passionate Pleasures
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