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“Sir, what do you want me to do with her?” the man in uniform asks me, “she is lying on the end of the dock and the weather is coming in. She will get washed off and dragged out to feed the sharks.” She cannot stay out there all night even if she wants to, Mother Nature has other ideas tonight. There’s a thunderstorm on the horizon, and they can be violent out here. I pass the baby to my house manager, who is really a security expert and sniper, and he holds him like he might catch the plague from the small baby.
“I will go get her,” I say leaving them to go and drag her back into the safety of the building. She can go back to sulking after the storm passes, but I won’t just let the ocean come and take what is mine.
“Come inside, Lucia, there is a storm blowing in you can’t be out here. Especially not on the end of the dock,” I call to her, and she sits back up from where she was lying looking at the sky. She gets up off the floor, and stands in front of me, looking up at my face. Her spark has been extinguished, she has accepted her fate. “You can go anywhere you want in the house or on the island, except my office. You come when I call and do as I say. If you can follow those simple rules, I won’t lock you up,” I say to her, and she just stares at me, “If you don’t follow the rules, I will kill you and send you back to your father piece by piece. Do not try me, I am not in my right mind.” I wait to see if she tries to fight me, to make me bend the rules to suit her. But she doesn’t, she just looks at me, and around us and then asks me,
“Where is the baby?” she’s noticed he is not with me.
“The baby is none of your business. Follow the rules and stay alive. It is simple,” I say to her, not wanting to allow her close to him, jealous of how he liked her and only just smiled for me tonight. No, I am his guardian. He needs to be close to me. I am not ready to share him, he has to know that he is safe and that I am here.
I turn and start to walk back to the house and she follows me a few steps behind, her head down. Once inside I turn around and look at the disheveled mess she is in. “Go choose a room, not next to mine, and get yourself clean. You stink like a fishing boat,” I say to her, “there is stuff for you, just ask one of the staff where they put it all.” She looks hurt by my words, and blinks back some tears. “Once you are clean, we can eat. I will wait for you in the kitchen.” I can hear Raul crying, and she does too. I see the look in her eyes. “Go get cleaned up and find a place to stay. I will get the baby. he is my problem not yours, Lucia.” I walk past her and follow the cries until I find him, still being held at arm’s length by a man who could kill you with a single touch but has zero credentials in childcare. Assassins are not good baby-sitters. They scare most adults and kids can feel evil, they smell it the same way dogs do. No wonder the tiny thing can’t settle down with any of us.
I take him into my arms, and his cries quiet slightly. “Lucia is moving into the house, she will need the supplies I had sent for her. You can put them in whichever room she chooses. Just not near my office or my room.” I can’t have her too close. She is already a distraction, and that close I may not be able to control what I do. I am left alone with the small boy, and I stand at the enormous windows looking at the lightning touching the ocean on the horizon. It won’t be long, and the storm will be here, the water is rough and angry.
The ocean is a reflection of what’s going on inside me, a turmoil churning things up. The first rumble of thunder makes the baby cry and I take him away from where the flashing light is so bright and into the kitchen where there is food ready for us to sit down and eat. Even here I am alone. The kitchen is the heart of the place and it’s warm and welcoming. I put Raul into the feeding chair I had sent, even though he is too small to sit. It reclines and he lies there looking up at the kitchen lights.
“Lucia,” I say when she comes in, showered and clean. No makeup or fancy clothes, she is stripped down to just herself and it suits her. “You look better,” I say, and it doesn’t sound the way I intended it to. She is gorgeous and it makes me stumble over my words, because I am stuck looking at her.
“Thanks,” she says, unsure of my intention. “Hello, little one.” She goes straight past me to Raul, who smiles at her and kicks his tiny legs in excitement. She looks around the room and goes straight to serving the dinner. She dishes up for both of us. Lucia sits down next to the baby, and when she touches him, he grabs her finger.
Raul won’t let go, and she simply carries on eating with one hand like she already knew how to. She is a natural with him, unlike me, and it makes me jealous. Lucia eats the dinner, but I can tell she isn’t enjoying it. We are not exactly set up like a fancy resort, it’s isolated and we have to make do with what we can get most days.
“Can you cook?” I ask her, and she laughs.
“Sal, have you ever met an Italian girl who wasn’t taught to cook before she learned to read?” It’s true, I don’t know an Italian lady that can’t cook. Except Elodie — she could kill you with her kitchen skills literally.
“True. If you want to take over some of the cooking you can. The guys do their best, but it’s not exactly what they were trained to do.”
“No, you don’t say,” she says looking at the mess in the kitchen where the food was prepared. “I don’t mind cooking, if it will help,” she says, and I have to ask why she is being nice, she doesn’t have to be. “I would rather cook than trust whoever is doing it now.” Can I trust her? What if she poisons us all? “I am not going to poison you,” she says rolling her eyes, “I know that’s what you’re thinking. All you Kings always think everyone is out to get you. If I kill you Sal, I am going to die on an island alone. I am not that stupid,” she says and carries on with her dinner. Lucia talks to the baby and eats her food, entertaining him. He doesn’t cry at all while we eat.
Once we are done Lucia clears the table and most of the mess in the kitchen, still talking to Raul as if I am not there. I watch her as she moves about without a problem doing things I would have thought she would say are beneath her. Lightning strikes close to the island and the clap of thunder that follows makes her jump and drop a glass.
The loud noise and her gasp makes Raul start to cry, and when I look up Lucia has cut herself on a shard of broken glass.
“Can I help you?” I am about to get up when she says,
“No, pick him up, he’s afraid. Hold him.” I lift him out the chair and hold him against my chest. “I am fine it’s just a small cut, I will clean the mess up.” She picks up the pieces and throws them away, washing her hand under the tap. She hisses when the water hits the cut, and it must sting like hell. I stay in the kitchen with her, holding Raul. The weather is getting worse, and the sound of the wind whistling around the building is almost ghostly.
The storm rumbles and growls outside, and the baby buries his head in my neck to hide from it. His small hand grips the fabric of my shirt as he seeks comfort from me. I catch Lucia looking at us with a smile on her face.
“I am going to take him to bed,” I say to her, “the weather will be here for the night, maybe longer. Try to get some sleep, and there are plasters in the bathroom down the hall for your finger.” I know she said it’s fine, but it looks like it hurts.
“Thank you, goodnight. Sal—” she stops talking when I turn to look at her. “It’s nothing, just goodnight. I hope he sleeps.” I have my doubts in this weather, but at least he isn’t screaming the house down.
“Goodnight, Lucia,” I return. There is a strange silent second where I look at her and want to say more — but more of what, I do not know. “Sleep well.” I am sure it will be better than the cellar. I leave her alone in the kitchen and tuck Raul into his crib. He doesn’t go to sleep, but he doesn’t cry either. He lies there and gurgles and smiles, playing with his feet and looking at the mobile above him. I leave him while he is content and get ready to climb into my own bed.
Even with the storm raging outside this feels like the first peaceful night we have had here. The whole house is calm, a contradiction to what is happening around us. I check on Raul one last time, he has fallen asleep on his own.
I can see a light on down the hallway on the opposite side to my room, and his nursery. That’s obviously the one she chose, it has a stunning view of the lighthouse. I stand there and wonder what she is doing, tempted to go to my office and look on the camera’s. Instead, I walk down the long passageway, and stand in the open doorway. Lucia is kneeling beside her bed saying prayers, and I leave with our disturbing her. I have no place getting in between her and God.
Though the thought of her on her knees has my cock twitching, I imagine her choking on it. Looking up at me, eyes watering and those perfect lips wrapped around my shaft. God — I would die to feel that right now, to watch her suck my dick. Her mouth would be far more use doing that than praying. I have a suspicion the big man in the sky doesn’t listen to the likes of us.
My bed is uncomfortable because my dick is standing to attention, and nothing I try will get it to go back down. Lucia on her knees has my whole body in lust, the desire to defile that pretty face has taken over and my dreams are filled with fucking her. I have been alone too long. Even before I came here it was ages since I had the pleasure of a woman touch.
Thunder and lighting, and the simple fact she is so close I could go in there and take her is making it hard to sleep again. Even though the baby is quiet, and my home is peaceful — my mind is chasing a desire for something forbidden. Lucia is mine to do with what I want, and tonight I want her lips around my cock.
I fight the urge to go in there and force her to do what I want, the self-control takes every ounce of energy I have left. If I start taking what I want from her now, I will never stop. I haven't even decided if I am going to keep her alive long enough for any of the filthy, hot fucking thoughts in my head. I might need to go stand in the cold rain to get my temperature and my dick down.
CHAPTER11
