Passions in the North Country (Siren Publishing Classic) (16 page)

“All,” Devon said.

“You’re not serious!” Jenny replied, shocked by the confession.

“Hey, I live alone down the river. I have no television, no radio, no one to talk to. But I do like to read and I’ve become very well acquainted with Miss Maria D’Entremont.”

“You’re too much!” Jenny said, laughing. “I never would have guessed.”

“I’m just finishing the Captain’s diary now.”

“The Captain’s diary, is there a lot in it like the first line? Sex things, I mean.”

“A lot,” Devon said.

“And Maria, too? For real?”

“She detailed everything about her life, including every raunchy fantasy.”

“Really?”

“Very raunchy,” Devon said. “Maria was the model citizen, the pretty nun, polite, cultured, efficient. Everyone loved her, but no one had ever loved her. She was sexless. But in her mind, in her fantasies, in her writings, she was able to be anyone she wanted to be. She was hyper-charged, super erotic, a woman without inhibitions. And when I say without inhibitions, I mean it. That was her release and she held nothing back.”

“What do you think of her?” Jenny asked with trepidation.

“In what sense?”

“How do you feel about her being so, you know, lusty?”

“I like it,” he said. “I like lusty women. I don’t want a woman who cheats on me, but I have no problem with a woman who has a huge sex drive.”

Jenny was fascinated by his admission. “So you liked her?”

“I grew to love her,” Devon said. “She was a multifaceted and multitalented woman, but she was also a woman with molten lava flowing in her veins. They say the brain is the biggest sex organ and from all accounts the Captain never touched another woman after meeting Maria. He was a lusty man, but he was faithful to her. And they satisfied each other for years just by stimulating each other’s minds.”

Jenny was feeling really turned on. “Never the body, though?”

“No, they passed their writings to each other and they, how shall I say, entertained each other in novel ways.”

“What do you mean?” Jenny asked breathlessly.

“Are you sure you want to hear this?”

“I’m sure,” she said with a laugh, her eyes twinkling. “This is so scandalous.”

“We’ll talk about it later,” he responded. “I have something for you. Wait a second.” He walked across the room, moved something, then returned a short time later. “I read the diaries down the river, photocopied the parts of the Captain’s diaries I have not read, but the originals are still in these rooms.”

“Oh?” Jenny cried excitedly.

“The Captain’s diary is under a pine board that lifts if you pull it up by the nail that slightly protrudes at the end. That board is directly under the center of the bed.”

“Where are Maria’s diaries?”

“See the bookshelf by the bed, the one with the gold trim?”

“Yes,” she said, eyeing it.

“On the right side of the bookshelf is a little latch. If you lift it, you can swing the bookshelf into the room. Behind it is a false wall.”

Jenny walked over to the bookshelf, found the latch, and swung it away from the wall just as Devon said it would. She felt a thrill, as if she was finding a secret treasure. He instructed her to remove the section of baseboard that had been behind the bookshelf. She did and found four large books wrapped in some kind of animal skin. But she did not take them out. Instead she replaced the baseboard and swung the bookshelf back into place.

“You’ve already read all Maria’s diaries?” Jenny said, surprised that he could have consumed so much.

“I have,” he stated in a matter-of-fact tone. “Some parts twice.” He paused for several seconds, then spoke in a deep, pretend voice. “Maria, this is the Captain. Are you in?”

“Yes, Captain,” Jenny said in a high-pitched voice, playing along.

“My journal is on the bed,” Devon said in his Captain voice. “I have to go sea for a short trip and I’m leaving now, but I have some reading material for you.” He slid the first page under the door. “This is for your eyes only.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Jenny said animatedly. “I’m sure this will keep me warm at night. Be safe at sea, Captain.”

“I will,” Devon said, “and I will miss you, Maria.”

“Come home safely, Captain.”

“I will, Maria. Good
bye for now.”

“Good
bye, Captain. I will watch for your ship every day.”

Jenny waited for Devon to laugh so that she could laugh, too, but instead he simply left the room and closed the door. She walked into the Captain’s room and saw the big, leather-bound diary on the bed. It was red and black, thick, and decorated in an ornamental leaf. She held it like a treasure and took it into her room, putting it in one of her big, empty suitcases. A moment later she was accessing Maria’s diaries and she put all four of them in the same suitcase. That done, she slid her suitcase under the bed and laid down to read the page Devon had given her.

Jenny picked it up, opened it to slightly discolored paper, but was amazed to see it was written in a very nice hand, quite calligraphic, and much better than she expected.

Jenny scanned down to the first paragraph and started to read.

I want to fuck you so badly I can taste it. I lie in bed at night pulling my big, stiff cock, thinking of you naked, bent over in front of me, while I fuck your sweet, hairy pussy. You feel like satin and we slide together, slapping, talking filth, and then I unload my huge man cream deep into your delicious cunt. How I want to fuck you, Maria! Please take that habit off for one night. Please! For one night of love with you I would give up my life! Oh, I know what you will say, my darling, my joy. You will say, “For one night of love with you I would have to give up my eternity.” Oh, my darling, my sweet, how I love you! How madly and passionately I love you!

Jenny finished reading the first paragraph with her mouth gaping open. She knew sailors were notorious for their language, but nothing prepared her for this, especially as it was addressed to a nun. It was outlandish. A scandal to end all scandals. And Maria had written back! And, if Devon was correct, which she had no reason to doubt, Maria had been even more provocative.

She looked around the room and saw it in a whole new light. The melodramas that must have been played out here, the passions incited, the sex fantasized. It was like a brothel of the imagination. And she was in the room, the room where it all took place. Jenny started to feel stimulated again, caught up in the spirit of wild, naughty love. She held the Captain’s dirty note in one hand and masturbated with the other. Usually shy, she watched herself in the mirror. She put a finger in herself and worked it like a piston, quickly having yet another huge orgasm. When it was over she could barely breathe, barely think, barely function.

“I don’t know what it is about this place,” she said, sitting up with her hair all disheveled, “but I’m having the best orgasms of my life and I am so turned on!”

As Jenny dressed, she hoped there would be a well-rounded view of the Captain’s life, especially in regards to Maria, but she also hoped there was lots of sex talk. Jenny liked sex, and she liked things erotic, from sexy romances to wild bad-girl fantasies. In many ways she was like Maria, except that she was planning on not only writing about sex. She was ready for a feast and everything was on the table.

* * * *

An hour later, after taking a deep breath, Jenny called Arnie. She was prepared to hang up if he didn’t answer the phone himself. By chance he did.

“Hi, Arnie, it’s me,” Jenny whispered.

“Jenny!” he exclaimed. “Thank God you’re all right.”

“I’m fine, but I’m lying low.”

“Good idea,” he said meaningfully. “The day you left, Ivan showed up at my house.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “He must have come back early from his trip.”

“He did, and was he ever mad.” Arnie paused. “When he touched down, he immediately called you and right then he knew you had run. He took the plane back to Florida and he was at my place that night. He looked insane, Jenny. If you could have seen his eyes! It was like he was in a delirium, a kind of fever. He says you lied to him.”

“I did,” she admitted.

“Good,” Arnie replied. “Lie to that bastard and get away from him. You did the right thing.”

“I know I did,” Jenny said.

“He says everything you ever told him was a lie, but he’s still going nuts trying to find you. He’s even hired a private detective. I can see it in his eyes, Jenny. It’s not a happy place in his head. He’s freaking crazy.”

“Don’t tell anybody I called you, for God’s sake.”

“I won’t. You know that. But why did you call? I told you to break all ties with Florida.”

“I need help,” she said. “I’m working for this little hotel in Canada. Do you know Nova Scotia?”

“I know everywhere.”

“The hotel is called the Riverview.”

“I know it. It’s on the South Shore. Heritage site of sorts.”

“Right,” Jenny replied, exceedingly pleased he knew of her new home. “It’s a lovely little hotel and the owner has done some tremendous work renovating it, but now we need guests.”

“Can you handle, say, thirty at a time?”

“Yes, for sure. We can handle thirty.”

“Tell you what. I can talk to an old friend up in New England who runs all the bus tours for Eastern Canada. I’ll talk to him about including the Riverview in his itinerary. The beauty of his line, too, is that there are only about thirty people at a time, but his tours run constantly. You could have new faces coming by every few days.”

“That would be perfect, Arnie.”

“Give me your number,” he said, “and don’t call back anymore. I don’t want anyone else knowing you phoned me. I’ll call you when I get some news and when the coast is clear.”

“Thanks, Arnie,” she replied, giving him the number.

“You’re welcome, honey.” He paused. “It was nice to hear from you again. I’m so glad you’re doing well. I always thought of you like a daughter, dear.”

“Thanks again, Arnie.”

Jenny hung up and almost instantly wondered if she had done the right thing. Unable to change it now, she walked outside. The young men had finished painting and she joined Devon and the painters in front of the Riverview. It looked spectacular! The transformation was amazing, simply amazing. Devon was genuinely impressed, both by their work and in Jenny’s choice of colors. The hotel had probably never looked as good. Jenny took Devon aside.

“Let them know how pleased you are,” Jenny told him. “Pay them the extra fifteen percent just as you would have in the first place. Call it a bonus for a job so well done. That will give them a few extra dollars, raise their selfesteem, and create positive vibes. Besides, they did a great job and deserve it.”

“Agreed,” he admitted, admiring their work. “They did do a great job.”

Devon walked up to the men and shook his head. “I didn’t believe the hotel could look so good,” he said. “You did a fantastic job, guys. Unbelievable.”

They all beamed with pleasure.

Devon took out his check book and wrote it for the amount he and Jenny had just discussed. He handed it to Danny, but upon seeing the amount, Danny thought it was a mistake.

“It’s a bonus,” Devon said, firmly nodding his head. “You exceeded expectations. I can’t tell you how pleased I am.”

The men looked at the check and puffed up with pride. They all thanked Devon, bowed slightly to pretty Jenny, and then spoke for a few more minutes before walking down the driveway with a spirited step.

The men had transformed a rundown structure into something the whole community could be proud of, and they had worked as hard as he worked—something he respected.

Devon turned to Jenny. “You’re one smart cookie,” he said.

“You ain’t so bad yourself, sailor.”

They laughed, their eyes glittering, then went back to their individual tasks.

* * * *

For the next week Jenny worked constantly on developing ideas to promote the hotel. It helped take her mind off the fact that by now Ivan would have left no stone unturned looking for her in Los Angeles. That thought gave her the creeps and she tried to put it out of her mind, but she was glad she had taken the time to lay a false trail. The call to Arnie was troubling, not because she feared he would betray her, but because Ivan was so crafty he might somehow figure out her ruse. But even though that caused her anxiety, she was glad she made the call.

Jenny set up tentative schedules with Terry, cleared details with the appropriate government departments, and used her fake name to write to travel agents throughout Canada and the United States. Miriam had come home from the hospital and was staying with Terry’s family, but was not yet ready to return. Jenny visited her regularly, keeping her updated on the hotel.

In an attempt to do her best for Miriam, Jenny worked harder every day. When she felt drained from writing letters, making phone calls and developing ideas, she did chores around the hotel. After clearing it with Devon, she bought supplies for the main section of the building. She hung wallpaper in the dining room, painted the reading room, placed silk flowers throughout the inn, and started her garden out back. Jenny never felt so creative or useful, and never before had she felt so happy. It was as if she had come home.

Sensing things were going as well as could be, she had something of a radical idea she simply had to propose. “There’s something I want to run by you, Devon,” she said when she got him alone out behind the garden. “It’s not a small matter.”

“Yes?” he asked suspiciously.

“Can we go up to my room?”

“All right,” he said, putting down his trusty hammer.

Jenny was wearing a light, lime-green top with spaghetti straps, her soft arms and shoulders accentuated, drawing the eye. Her perfect ass was tightly outlined in black stretchy pants that clung to her curves and made her look like some kind of mermaid, so round and supple, plump and ripe. Ivan had flipped one day when she wore that outfit in her apartment. The thought of her even walking into the hall, with the chance another man might see her, drove him to distraction. She had to change and she had to promise to throw the “whore outfit” into the garbage.