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“I like to start as I aim to go on,” he replied. “And, Molly. You are stalling.”
He saw her gather herself, and he wondered if she would balk now. It wouldn’t surprise him. After all, she was clearly a proud creature, or she could never speak to him the way that she did. Constantine, too, knew something of pride, and could not imagine any scenario in which he would subject himself to another’s will in this way.
But even as that notion bloomed in him, he brushed it aside. They were nothing alike. He had no idea why he’d thought such a thing in the first place.
“And what happens if I can’t go through with this?” Molly asked quietly.
“No one is forcing you,” Constantine reminded her. He made a small show out of a shrug. “There is no gun to your head. You are not imprisoned here. The doors are open, the gate is unlocked, and you may leave whenever you wish.”
“How generous.” Her eyes glittered. “Yet if I do leave, you will ruin my mother. Possibly permanently. And who knows if you’ll stop there. You might also take my house. Then make it difficult for me to work, I’m assuming. And probably, in the end, ruin me, too. Is that right? That has to be the goal or why bother?”
Constantine sighed as if pained. “It is a pity. But in life, there are consequences.”
“This is how you sleep at night?”
He laughed. “Oh,hetaira, I have never had a night of troubled sleep in my life.”
“Why would you? That requires a conscience.”
“Now you’re boring me.” He shook his head. “Make your choice. Stay or go, as it please you. But if you stay, you heard my instruction. I would suggest you follow it.”
“What a lovely invitation,” Molly said, through her teeth. “How can I possibly refuse?”
Neither one of them pointed out that, of course, she couldn’t.
Then, with a notable surliness he almost applauded, because she made so little attempt to hide it, she toed off her trainers. One, then the next. Then, with the level of sensuality Constantine would expect to see in a doctor’s surgery, she pulled off the dress, tossing it onto one of the chairs nearby. Then she stood there before him in nothing but a pair of thong panties.
God help him.
And he could see that she had shifted into her work mode, as he liked to call it. She’d become the other version of herself. Magda. Her gaze became haughtier, sharper. The way she stood changed—to encourage, not touching, but looking. A fierce stance that commanded attention. She was suddenly imperious as she stared at him, almost as if she was challenging him. Did he dare to come before her without a camera to begin worshipping her with its lens, as most did when they beheld her?
And why not? Molly was a masterpiece.
She was all long, elegant lines and surprising curves. Two perfect breasts sat high on her chest, the nipples tightening as he looked at them. If Molly noticed, and Constantine was sure she did, she gave no sign.
Instead, Molly continued to hold his stare in that challenging manner of hers as she bent, stripped off her thong, and tossed it to the side as well.
Then she stood again, looking utterly at her ease. Her hands by her sides, her weight shifted to put her at her best advantage, and how could he not appreciate the view? He more than appreciated it.
“Well?” she asked, and not in the tone of one who had any doubts about what she was presenting.
“You have a very strange take on the idea of servitude,” Constantine pointed out. “I find this amazing, given your mother’s initial profession.”
“Yes, cleaning a house is like brown eyes,” Molly agreed, her tone like a lash. “Passed down generation after generation, by genetics. I was personally born with a broom in one hand.”
“Here are the rules,” Constantine said, ignoring that. “As you are well aware, this is the house where my father always insisted we live without a full staff. I assume because it gave him pleasure to make your mother do the housekeeping. I will not do the same.”
“Whyever not? I was sweeping up before I could walk. A family trait.”
“My assistant stays in the guesthouse and is rarely here in the main house. And never without advance warning. There are guards at the gate, as I’m sure you saw, but they do not venture within. I tell you this to forestall the inevitable argument you’re going to attempt to have with me when I tell you that while we are here, unless I specifically tell you otherwise, you will be naked.”
“Naked,” Molly repeated. “I’ll just be wandering about, draping myself on the furniture, naked. That doesn’t sound hygienic.”
“Do you have a medical issue that should be taken up with a doctor?” he asked, silk and menace and entirely too much delight. “Do I need to bring in a medical team?”
“I’m sadly all too healthy and not about to die from a stroke, which is a tragedy.” She glared at him. “But in case you’ve forgotten, I sunburn very easily.”
“That will not suit me at all,” Constantine assured her. “But no need to fear.” He nodded toward the table beside the chair where she’d tossed her clothes. “I brought you some sunscreen. Bring it to me, please. I’ll apply it.”
