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“What the hell is this place?”
Her mutter was met with silence. But what caught her attention the most were the paintings scattered on the walls, all of which portrayed nature at its finest, from the lush forests to the dainty spring fields. Then there were the bodies of water, a rolling storm versus quiet tranquility…then, a portrait of a pale man in the center, blue eyes piercing through the canvas and a smirk glimmering with the hint of a fang.
“You must be Edmund,” she murmured, bemused. Laughter interrupted her perusal and had her shaking off the dazed effect the place had on her, attributing it to her missing anything related to art in her recent life. She stepped back from examining his face and trailed after the voices, growing louder when she entered a twisted passageway. The exit gave way to a drop, but she calculated her mark and landed in a graceful crouch.
Pleased, Alexa straightened and looked ahead. Her triumph dropped along with her smile when she finally took in the sight of where the laughter was coming from—except now it wasn’t just laughter she heard.
There was the flash of breasts from a pale, voluptuous woman with fluttering wings, then writhing bodies beside her. Moans floated from that direction, and she could have sworn she saw hands stroking body parts and eyes rolling in pleasure. Stunned, her gaze trailed to the rest of the bodies, all of which were missing a piece of clothing or two and were positioned in a way that exposed those parts. At the deep chuckle, her focus strayed to the other side of the large cavern, where a few more nude females frolicked about while some were stuck like glue…to someone.
“Now, now, there’s no need to fight when you lovely ladies can just share. It’s a good space and we have all the time in the world.”
Sex, her mind surmised, dumbfounded. There was an orgy going on right before her, scandalizing her into silence even though she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off the scene. But they kept straying to the man the most, where only one thought occurred: the painting didn’t do him justice.
Edmund Wilder was as pale as he had been there, but the painting didn’t quite catch the glow of golden hair that looked soft to the touch and tousled over a smooth forehead, despite repeatedly being brushed back by a female’s slim fingers. Another set of hands tilted his head until he opened his mouth willingly to accept the grape—but not before his tongue latched on to it until those surrounding him were swooning. Blue orbs stood out against the gold and silver found everywhere. A silky robe hid what she surmised was a lanky body from all this lazy philandering. She rolled her eyes. She stopped midway when a head turned to her, as if sensing her presence, before the rest whipped to follow until the man did, too.
Braced for the backlash or demands, she stiffened. Then she stilled when he brightened and hopped away from the women and strode towards her, robe whipping about pale, not-so-lanky legs. Up close, she still couldn’t figure out his body type, but that face was devastating and breathtaking all at once, a mixture of delicate bone structure and hardened points that would probably turn some on. Not her, of course.
“Oh, there you are. I was about to give up on you. I’m guessing it took you a while to get away from my aunt and uncle, did it? They were always strict on housekeepers, and I’m afraid you would have been in trouble if they caught you sneaking out. But it’s okay. I can cover for you and just tell them we were out together. They won’t mind.”
The suggestion was clear and had her staring some more. This was the man that Isabella Hastings, socialite, and wonderful vampire being, had been supposed to marry?
“Did you bring the lingerie? I need the lingerie I specified. I know I didn’t get to meet you formally yet, but I heard you are very good at this and won’t mind doing it with them. I enjoy watching these things happen, you see, so I am very delighted to find you here.”
Her mouth opened, ready to tell him he was mistaken and to go to hell with his perversion. Then realization slammed that she didn’t want him to know her real identity and cause problems for Billy, so she bit her tongue. Alexa gulped in air to ease her body, trying to appear as relaxed as possible as she nodded.Lingerie. He said lingerie.
“The lingerie’s upstairs,” she said, keeping her tone demure. “Let me go back and get it right away.”
“Thanks, my love. You are the best.”
She wrinkled her nose when he turned. Then Alexa slipped out of there with her excuse grasped tight and her mind telling her to move fast before she was caught.
Chapter 2
The idea to invite the most liberated group he had met as of late began to appeal less and less to Edmund Wilder, who had expected them to be more open to his instructions. But open didn’t involve divesting their clothes pre-activity and getting horny from too many drinks, which seemed to be the case now.
“Are you sure you don’t want another drink, Ed?”
Ed. His nickname for his life outside his usual one. He turned to the woman who offered him the glass, then shook his head as he avoided staring at the chest openly displayed very close to him. When she attempted to move closer, he smoothly sidestepped and took the glass, and smiled.
“Thanks. Just one more until we can get things moving.”
Where was that woman? And what was her name again?
“She must be lost in the maze of this place,” a man said, shrugging. “She seemed pretty lost if you ask me. Are you sure she won’t reveal this place and our presence to others?”
“One of the perks of getting a servant’s cooperation,” Edmund assured, then tentatively touched the man’s wings. He hummed, openly pleased, then closed his eyes when Edmund smoothed wrinkles out. “Now, let me just make sure she’s—”
“I’m here! I’m so sorry I’m late! You don’t know me well, but I promise I won’t tell anyone about this. You have my word and Maya’s word. Master Edmund, please don’t be mad. I prepared early, but your mother came to visit and wanted some tea before she retired for the night.”
Edmund gaped at the woman wearing a coat over a maid’s uniform. So did the others, taking note of one clear thing: this wasn’t the one from earlier. The winged man stiffened.
“This is the shifter?”
The woman nodded enthusiastically, blonde ringlets bobbing—different from the ponytail of the red-haired, stricken one earlier.
“Millicent,” she offered enthusiastically, holding out a hand. Her cheeks flushed when the winged man took it and kissed the back. “At your service. Well, at Master Edmund’s service, but I’m all yours for now.” She winced. “Not all yours in the you-have-my-heart-and-body-and-soul sense but because I’m under their employ. And—”
“Millicent,” the wine-offering female interrupted loudly, then paused as if tasting the name on her tongue. Her bare breasts were now covered with her shiny violet hair, which Millicent blatantly admired. “That’s a pretty name. You are a pretty one. We would love to have you be the center of the painting.”
