Mirror of My Soul (Nature of Desire 4)

Despite the rapport of the past few moments, Marguerite knew things were far from friendly between her and the other Mistress. Tyler’s love had apparently won Violet’s forgiveness, but not her trust. Marguerite didn’t blame her. She didn’t trust herself either. But it was time to clear the air with the person she knew Tyler considered his best friend.

“Mistress, with your permission…” Roland interrupted her thoughts. “I need to be excused for a few moments. The call of nature and all. ” Marguerite nodded, removed the plug and helped steady him to his knees, though male pride kicked in and he made it the rest of the way to his feet despite a stifled groan as she closed her hand on his cock. It moved eagerly beneath her touch, telling her he would be ready for whatever she had in mind next in little time.

“You may take fifteen minutes. Drink a glass of water to re-hydrate. Come back soon. I want my tea. ”

A tremor ran through his body and he dared a glance at her. The expression in his eyes was somewhat dazed and she felt that familiar tightening in her body, a Mistress’s recognition that she had successfully swept the rug from beneath his reality, taken complete command of him in a way he had not expected. She passed her fingertip just along the edge of his lashes, a whimsical, ticklish touch, and he swept them down.

“Yes, Mistress. ” He inclined his head. “Thank you, Mistress. It’s…it’s a pleasure to serve you. ”

“You’re a pleasure, Roland. Hurry back. ”

When he nodded, she watched the virile body as he strode toward the end of the poolhouse, exercising the haste that respect for her command required. He disappeared through a door she assumed held a bathroom. Knowing Tyler, probably communal showers and a ho

t tub as well. The thought conjured some interesting scenarios that heated her blood further.

Sarah appeared at the entrance to the pool house, tea tray in hand as if Tyler had a way of telepathically summoning her. Again, Marguerite wouldn’t put it past him. He rose and met her at the door, took the tray so she did not have to come all the way in.

Marguerite noted the way Sarah studiously kept her eyes only on Tyler’s face, though when she turned, her gaze inadvertently swept over Mac. She tripped on the threshold.

Tyler steadied her, murmured his thanks.

Marguerite’s amusement gave way to surprise when Sarah postponed her retreat until she’d found Marguerite and inclined her head, a courteous acknowledgement that might have been offered the lady of the house. Marguerite nodded in return, somewhat amazed and warmed. The woman smiled, retreated up the walkway to the house.

Tyler brought the tea tray over to the two women and gave Marguerite a wink.

“She’s tough to impress. I think she might decide to keep you and throw me out. ”

“Probably a wise decision on her part,” Violet observed dryly, but Marguerite noted her eyes were thoughtful at the exchange. She herself felt absurdly bolstered by Sarah’s vote of confidence.

As Tyler settled the tea tray on the side table next to Violet, Marguerite reached out, touched his arm. “I’d like to ask you to give us some privacy for a bit. I want time with Mistress Violet. ”

Violet looked surprised that Marguerite herself had initiated the confrontation, but she quickly recovered. “A good idea. Go play over there. ” Violet nodded across the pool, to a grouping of lounge chairs. “Read one of your tedious industry magazines.

Marguerite and I want time for girl talk without your busy nose in the middle of it. ” Tyler raised a brow. “Last time I checked, this was my home. ”

“Last time I checked, I could probably kick your ass. ” He snorted, straightened as Violet regarded him with dancing eyes, but there was a firm determination to her mouth that made his eyes narrow in return.

“Do you promise to play nice?”

“Tyler, there’s nothing here I can’t handle. ” Marguerite interjected it before she could respond. She locked gazes with Violet in direct challenge. Violet dipped her head, a grudging smile tugging at her lips.

Tyler at length nodded, passed a caressing knuckle over Marguerite’s cheek. He did in fact circle to the other side of the pool, but once he was there, he apparently decided he preferred a more active use of his time than Violet had suggested. Stripping off his shirts and slacks, he revealed that he wore a pair of thin swimming shorts underneath them. The movements of his body lithe and male, he dove cleanly in the pool to begin a series of laps.

Violet cleared her throat. Marguerite pulled her gaze back to her, saw a flash of humor in the woman’s eyes. “Men shouldn’t be that beautiful, should they?” She tilted her head toward her husband, not looking directly at him, but from the gleam in the Caribbean blue eyes, Marguerite was certain Violet had perfected the art of perusing him at her leisure while driving him mad with the feigned indifference. An indifference she was sure Mac knew was illusion, driving up the sexual tension between them. His attention was riveted on her every movement. Even as his head rested back on the lounger, his fingers gripped the straps holding him with tension. Marguerite noted his cock was rising again, noted that Violet had not completely cleaned him. Apparently she preferred to leave the stain of his semen dampening the trimmed thatch of dark pubic hair beneath the stiffening shaft, the thin point of dark hair running down his hard lower abdomen.

She was right. Men should not be that beautiful. Marguerite forced herself not to look back at the pool, at the sight of Tyler completing a turn, his lean body swift and powerful, the water gleaming on the length of his arms and breadth of shoulders as he stroked across it. She took a seat in a chair, crossed one leg over the other, folded her hands in her lap as if she were in her tearoom. “We have our privacy. Cut to the chase, Mistress Violet. Say what you’ve been wanting to say since the night at The Zone. ” Violet sized her up with that measuring gaze, a cop’s eyes. “All right then, I will.

You know how his wife died. ”

With those few words, she’d effectively narrowed the room to just the two of them.

Violet kept her voice low, obviously not intending Tyler to catch a snippet of the conversation, which Marguerite was certain would have ended it abruptly.

“I do. She should have been there for him, as much as he was there for her. ” Violet inclined her head. “Amen to that. I know it, you know it, but guys like Tyler and Mac, they don’t believe in therapy sessions and psychoses. They come from this medieval age bullshit that says if they aren’t a hundred percent together for their women, they aren’t men. So if I hadn’t known him as well as I do, I’d have said he went to Europe to prove something, not because he loved her and truly wanted her back. But he did love her. ”

She paused. “He was going to surprise her. He bought a ticket to her performance, but was too late to get the good seat he wanted. He hoped to let her see him, let her know he was there. ”

Marguerite’s hands tightened together as she realized what she was hearing was firsthand, what Violet had learned from Tyler himself and now interpreted with the love and outrage of a close friend. She leaned forward so Violet would not have to raise her voice further, wanting to hear all of it.