AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I thought I would be, until I saw you in the salon.” He sneered. “Dancing.”
“I can explain—”
“I’m sure you can,” he interrupted, pushing his chair back and reaching for the pen. “But not in here. In the stateroom, and in a suitable pose.”
She couldn’t believe he wasn’t delighted to be in her company. Her passions had reignited the moment she had received the message about his return. He should be touching her. She backed out of the door, aghast. He hadn’t even looked up at her. Made eye contact.
Sitting on the bed, she fumbled with the zipper at the back of her dress. Of all the activities he had to see upon his return, it was her dancing—his adversary and the one pastime of hers he suffered her to do. To add to his ire, she had been in the company of several men and, though Maria had been present, it would be of no consequence to Jason.
Now, she had to face one of his tormenting inquisitions where he would dissect her behaviour, her misdemeanours and failings. She would be disciplined for breaking his rule that she must not flirt with men. Whatever explanation she would give would be insufficient, as he would have set his mind to return her to complete submission, whether with sex or with some form of corporal punishment. She feared both would be on his agenda, in a combination that would tax her abilities.
She felt strangely resigned to her fate. She didn’t deserve his anger as she had done nothing wrong. However, his undivided attention would be guaranteed, and she would submit to attempt to rectify his negative feelings towards her. Pushing away her own anger, she acknowledged her pathetic, needy wretchedness would allow her to be. A rogue tear fell down her cheek. His return had become a nightmarish anti-climax, all her plans to welcome him scuppered.
***
“Señora?”
Maria crept quietly into the room. Señor Lucas remained ensconced in his office. He had summoned her to prepare her mistress. Over the intercom, his tone came across as ominous and severe. She had time, she thought, to speak to the señora.
“Maria. He has seen me dancing with another man. I must answer to him for my behaviour.” She sniffed. “Can you help me with this dress zipper?”
“No, señora. I will not let you be treated this way!”
“What did you say?” Gemma turned to see her face.
Maria’s lips set firm. She believed the señora acquiesced to her master too easily and quickly, and initiating a session in the heat of high emotions was plainly wrong. The wife had been devoted to her absent husband. Perhaps Señor Lucas had come back from the stresses of work thinking of other voyages on his yacht, with other submissives. Those girls had been extremely biddable and compliant to anything he chose to do to them. She remembered those cruises vividly. However, this woman wasn’t only his submissive, but also his legal wife, with rights and status. A status Enrique had never given her.
“You are his wife, señora. Whatever else you are to him, you have a right to be treated with respect and not accused of infidelities. You told me this morning how hard you found his absence, missing him and keeping him in your thoughts. You succeeded, and he accuses you of not being a good wife. Don’t let him, señora. I beg you.”
Gemma sighed, still unsuccessfully fiddling with her zipper. “It isn’t that easy.”
“Señora. Has he really been told the truth? What evidence does he have to make him think you have been unfaithful? The man is hasty, perhaps. Don’t let him find you here. Make him come to you as an equal. He loves you. Remind him of that.”
She picked up a small notepad off the chest of drawers and handed it to Gemma, along with a pencil. “You know what to write. Then go, up above. Away from him. Wait.”
***
Entering the stateroom, Jason saw no sign of Gemma. Checking the bathrooms, he failed to find her. He saw the piece of paper on his pillow, resting in the indentation left by her sleeping head.
RED
One powerful three-letter word. Jason heard footsteps. Turning, expecting to see his wife, he found Maria by the door, her face tense. She didn’t flinch or drop her eyes, not like his wife. Anger returned as he pictured Gemma dancing, swaying in the arms of Gaspar.
/> “She has refused me!” he snarled. “Then she will have none of me. Make up a bed in a guest room for her.”
“No, señor. I will not.” Maria didn’t move.
“What did you say?” He crushed the piece of paper in his hand.
“You will listen to me, Señor Lucas. Your wife does not deserve this. She has done nothing wrong—”
“How dare—”
“She has been the perfect faithful wife to you. Let me tell you how, and then, if you still demand it, I will make a bed up for her, because you don’t deserve her. She has thought of you continuously, almost to the detriment of her health. On Tuesday, Esteban told me, she barely ate or slept. She refused to come out of the stateroom, and he was concerned. I wasn’t there, remember, banished. She had been so very lonely. Esteban encouraged her to come to the main deck to eat, and he put music on. She didn’t know about the dance floor, and when the dancing lights came on, she seemed happier. Gaspar is a professional dance teacher. That’s what he does on some cruises, he demonstrates and teaches Spanish styles. She told me she once danced for you, for your eyes only, and that she wanted to do it again. A proper choreographed dance. Gaspar taught her new moves. She insisted Esteban, or another, remain present. This evening, she knew you were coming back. She leapt about with joy. That was why she danced. Do you want me to go on?”
His eyes drifted around the room. The absence of his wife became increasingly stark. He had been pacing throughout Maria’s recounting. Now, he stopped. “Go on,” he said quietly.
“She spent time in galley with Dario. She spoke about what you liked to eat. She taught him how to make cakes that you like, scuns?”
