Spanked by an Angel [Notorious Nephilim 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (6 page)

“We’re taking a tour. Have fun.”

More laughter followed their progress through the sliding glass doors and into a hallway that smelled of massage oil and lavender.

“Sorry about that. He’s an ass.”

Abigail smiled up at him. “He certainly is. Another owner?”

“Yes. There are six of us.”

“Are you all related?”

“In one way or another.”

“So it’s truly a family business, then.”

He couldn’t help but grin. “You remembered I told you Lilith was an ancestor.”

She averted her gaze as a flush crept up her neck. “It was only yesterday, Emmett.”

But she remembered.

“Down this hallway are the massage rooms. We offer just about anything you could want. Acupressure, Anma, Balinese, hot stones, and reflexology, just to name a few. We also have yoga and meditation classes.”

“How large is your staff?”

“Somewhere in the neighborhood of three hundred. You’d have to ask Zach for an exact figure. He takes care of the books and personnel issues.”

At the mention of Zach, another shadow passed over her face. “What happened, Abigail? Did he insult you again?”

She lowered her gaze. “No, not at all.”

“Are you sure? I won’t have him harassing the guests.”

Even in the dim light, her fierce blush was obvious. When she finally raised her gaze to his face again, her eyes were too bright, as if she were trying to hide her emotions.

“I’m positive. Everything is fine. Meditation, you say? I tried that once, but I just couldn’t understand what I was supposed to do.”

“If he didn’t insult you again, then why were you thinking of leaving?”

A door opened near them, and one of the guests exited with a massage therapist. The pair smiled and nodded as they passed. Emmett walked over to the computerized schedule on the monitor and studied it. Taking Abigail’s hand, he led her to one of the meditation rooms. It wasn’t booked all day. They’d have complete privacy.

“Now, I have to confess I’m not trained in this, but at least let me show you one of the rooms we provide for guests to practice meditation techniques.”

Inside was dimmer than the hallway. The room was lit by one candle in each corner. Incense filled the air, and soft music played in the background. Abigail walked to the center of the room and twirled in a slow circle. “Well, it certainly is conducive to relaxation.”

He took a seat on one of the large cushions and patted the one next to it. “Why don’t you sit down and tell me why you wanted to leave.”

She regarded him from her standing position, arms crossed. “I wish I hadn’t said anything about that.”

“Abigail, I assure you my intentions are strictly as an owner. It’s unusual for our guests to leave after one day, and I simply want to know what happened to make you feel that way.”

And if it didn’t have something to do with Zach, he’d eat one of these cushions.

She finally crossed the room and lowered herself onto a cushion, legs crossed. She picked up a smaller pillow, then placed it in her lap and folded her hands on top of it. “I’m not sure where to start, Emmett.”

“The beginning is always a good place.”

She brushed a lock of hair from her face as the corners of her mouth turned up. “All right. The beginning. You’ve read my background. You know I’m from money, and you’ve probably already guessed I married Malcolm because it’s what my parents wanted.”

“Did you love him?”

She stared at a spot beyond his left shoulder. “Love. That’s an interesting word. We’re supposed to love our parents, and I guess we do, even if we fear them at the same time. We’re expected to love the person we choose to marry, but we’re not expected to fall head-over-heels crazy about the wrong kind of men, whatever that means.”

“It’s a complicated emotion.”

“I respected Malcolm for who and what he was. He’s the nephew of Stewart Walters, a partner in the law firm. I took back my maiden name after my divorce.”

“Was Malcolm also in the firm?”

“We started dating while he was earning his MBA at Mendoza in Indiana, but we knew each other as kids, of course.”

“Indiana? But you went to school in Minnesota.”

“It was a long-distance relationship.”

“Didn’t you date anyone else in high school or college?”

She looked into his eyes with a touch of regret. “The wrong kind of men.”

“Ah, I see.” He nodded.

“We were married as soon as he graduated. He had a guaranteed job with the firm, of course. It was a lavish fairy-tale wedding with over five hundred guests, most of whom I didn’t know. Friends and associates of our parents.”

“Sounds like a dream come true. What happened?”

“Turns out he was a genius with the books, at least as far as it benefitted his bank accounts in the Cayman Islands.”

Emmett whistled softly. “He stole money from the firm where his uncle and father-in-law were partners?”

“Oh, it gets worse. He also took off for parts unknown with one of the legal secretaries named Didi. Turns out they’d been having an affair long before he married me. Malcolm always told me sex solved all of life’s problems. It took me a while to realize he meant sex with Didi, not me.”

“Abigail, I’m so sorry.” Guilt washed over him as he recalled reading her questionnaire and making snap judgments about her background and personality. He’d thought her just another trust fund baby slumming it in Daddy’s company. She was anything but.

“The night I found out about Didi, he had the audacity to come back to the house and beg my forgiveness. I threw china at him, and he ended up in the ER with…lacerations. But before my father and the other partners could file charges for embezzlement and have him arrested, he signed himself out AMA—against medical advice—and left. The police went to Didi’s apartment with a search warrant, but she was already gone, too. They had the whole thing planned, Emmett.”

“How did you get your divorce?”

“My father called in some favors with a judge.”

“Do you think Malcolm and Didi are in the Caymans?”

“Probably. But even if they are, we can’t touch them there.”

“Abigail, I don’t know what to say.” He wanted to hold her, comfort her, but the aura coming from her was stone cold. It was best to let her set the pace right now.

“There’s nothing anyone can say. He was a lying, cheating bastard, and no one saw it. Or maybe they did and chose to ignore it. I don’t know.”

“How long were you married?”

“Just shy of three years.”

“It’s not your fault, you know. You lived with him, and you didn’t see it.”

“We barely spoke. The marriage was a sham. He only married me to earn my father’s trust. I see that now.”

“That must have been difficult for you to realize.”

She played with a loose thread on the cushion. “My parents barely speak except to discuss the next dinner party or social event they have to attend. They even sleep in separate rooms. I assumed all marriages were like that.”

“I’ve never been married, but not all of them are like that, Abigail. Some people really do find their soul mates and spend their lives in bliss.”

Her gaze snapped to his face. “Is that so?”

“It must have been terrible for you to face everyone at work. The stares, the whispers, the conjecture.”

Abigail tilted her head and stared into his eyes, as if trying to detect something hidden in his words or his voice. “That’s exactly what it was like, Emmett. If not for the fact I had no other job to go to, I would have quit. But my degree is pretty useless, and the last thing I wanted to do was ask my parents for more financial help, so I stayed.”

“And now you’re here because a coworker told you it would be two weeks of uninhibited fun and no-strings-attached sex.”

He moved a bit closer, repositioning his body as he did so, hoping she wouldn’t notice the deliberate gesture.

“That’s pretty much how she put it,” she whispered.

“But Abigail Emily Cosslin has never let herself go in such a way.”

She shook her head. “It’s not in my nature, no.”

“And it’s safer to leave before you actually have some wild and crazy fun.”

She nodded.

“Then why come in the first place?”

“Curiosity.”

“About what?”

Her perfume mixed with the incense rendered Emmett unable to form a coherent thought. He was usually adept at reading when a woman was ready for physical contact, but he couldn’t get a handle on Abigail. He hadn’t imagined she’d open up this much so soon, but something else still lingered, unspoken and hidden. He wasn’t entirely convinced her denial of having spoken to Zach again last night was the truth.

“We all have fantasies, Emmett.”

“Is that what you’re curious about, Abigail? Exploring your fantasies?”

Abigail stood up and took a deep breath, hoping it would clear her head. Why had she told him so much? What was it about him that made her want to spill all her secrets and start telling him childhood memories?

“I don’t know if I can do this, Emmett.”

He was behind her, his strong hands on her shoulders and his breath warm against her neck. “You have nothing to fear from me.”

“I believe you. That’s not what I meant.”

“Then tell me what I can do to help.”

Zach had said nearly the exact same thing last night.
“Why are you afraid of your fantasies, Abigail? Tell me what I can do to help you relax and enjoy me.”

She had to tell him about Zach. If she didn’t, he’d find out anyway, wouldn’t he? Surely Zach would say something. Taking a deep breath, she turned and looked into his ice-blue eyes.

“He didn’t insult me, but I did speak to Zach again last night.”

The twitch in Emmett’s jaw made her continue as fast as she could to get the words out before he had a chance to speak. “I woke up and saw him below my windows, near the stables. I only went outside to confront him about what he’d said to me at dinner. He apologized.”

Emmett raised his eyebrows. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not. It was like he was a different person.”

“Did anything else happen?”

She lowered her gaze. “We took a sleigh ride.”

Emmett didn’t say anything for long seconds, and when Abigail raised her gaze again, a wicked grin graced his handsome face. His mouth twitched as though he were trying not to laugh.

“Tell me I’m wrong, Abigail.”

She shook her head.

“I’m stunned, and that doesn’t happen very often.”

“I’m sorry. I sent you away last night and then ended up in bed with Zach instead.”

“Oh no, don’t you dare. You don’t owe me an apology. But it couldn’t have been that great if you wanted to leave this morning.”

“Emmett, stop that.” She couldn’t help but laugh at the look on his face, a combination of fake hurt and lust. “I said something to him this morning that…I think it hurt him, and I feel terrible. That’s why I wanted to leave. I just can’t seem to do anything right.”

Her stomach rumbled, the sound too loud in the quiet room.

“Tell you what. I’ll order in some lunch, and you can tell me the rest of the story, okay?”

“You must have better things to do than listen to my sob stories.”

Emmett pulled her into his arms, stunning her into silence. His rock-hard erection pressed against her lower abdomen, conjuring images of them on the cushions in this room, naked and sweating.

“Now you listen to me, Abigail Emily Cosslin. I will not have you playing the martyr for the remainder of this day. Do you understand me? You’re a beautiful, intelligent woman. You have every right to fuck Zach or me if you want to, without having to apologize for it. And you are
not
to put yourself down. Are we clear on that?”

She stared at his full mouth, wondering if he kissed as well as Zach did. Her gaze swept lower to the hint of dark stubble on his chin. As she imagined him rubbing that chin across her nipples, her clit began to ache. Oh shit. She wanted to fuck him, right here in this room, all day long. What the hell was happening to her?

A second loud rumble from her traitorous stomach broke the spell. He released her, sauntered over to a phone on the wall, and spoke into it. She sat on the cushion and hugged her knees, fighting against the guilt and shame that kept trying to surface.

Sex with Malcolm had been a reflection of her entire marriage—a constant barrage of verbal insults and admonitions about everything she was doing wrong. Nothing she said or did was ever good enough for him. He only married her because of who her father was. She knew that. If she was being honest, she’d always known it.

“Food will be here in five minutes. You have that faraway look again.” Emmett sat across from her, his eyes filled with concern.

“I’m all right.”

“Okay. Let’s change the subject. Tell me something about you that’s not on the questionnaire. A good memory.”

Good memories, did she have any? She bit her lip as several scenes from her childhood flashed through her mind, but inevitably they morphed into one of her parents admonishing her for not sitting up straight at the dinner table, or for getting her clothes dirty.

The music playing in the background reminded her of Zach’s humming this morning. Cello playing seemed a neutral topic. “I’ve recently started playing the cello again.”

“Really? Did you play as a kid?”

She nodded. “I started taking lessons in grade school.”

“You must be very good.”

“I never practiced. It was something I loved to do, but by the time I was ready to get serious about it, the timing just wasn’t right.”

Why did everything come back to Malcolm? She didn’t want to think about him anymore. She wanted to know more about Emmett and the others and this resort.

“Now it’s your turn,” she said. “Tell me something about yourself.”

“Well, I don’t play a musical instrument. That distinction belongs to Reeve, Niko, and Zach.”

Abigail closed her eyes for a second. He hadn’t been lying. Zach did play the cello. “Reeve and Niko are also owners?”

“Yes. Reeve Neville is a percussionist. In fact, if you stick around, you’ll be able to hear him play tomorrow night. We’re having an eighties party, and he’s part of the band.”