The Palace (Chateau 4)

Footsteps sounded on the deck behind me, and the fact that I could hear them at all told me it wasn’t Gilbert. He moved like a ghost, providing pristine service without being seen or heard. He faded into the background the second his job was complete, like a shadow.

I turned around to see Fender there, stripped down to his nakedness. From my angle below, he looked like a living statue stepping into the pool to join me. He was so cut and so strong that every movement he made caused a ripple effect to the rest of his body.

He moved into the heated water, his pecs and shoulders above the waterline. He headed straight for me, his eyes dark like espresso beans on the counter at the café. Every time I’d looked at that jar, I would think of him, remember the way he looked at me.

My chin was just above the waterline, and when he came to me, he lifted me so my legs wrapped around his waist. His hands held on to my ass even though I didn’t need the support, and now that we were at eye level, we stared.

Quiet as a mouse, Gilbert brought another tray of drinks and snacks for Fender then excused himself back to the house.

Fender didn’t look away from me, as if he didn’t notice or care.

Gilbert and I had never really talked again. He wasn’t rude to me, but what little friendship we’d had was forever severed. It was strange to think that the butler was more stubborn than his master.

I’d never had a relationship with a man that required no conversation. Fender and I spoke with our touches and our looks. When two people were as close as we were, it was unnecessary to fill the silence with words. We just existed in the same moment—and that was enough.

He guided me against the wall of the pool then slipped his fingers underneath my bottoms and found my clit. With his eyes on me, he rubbed me in a circular motion, his pressure growing harder and harder.

My arms wrapped around his neck, and I breathed in his face, climaxing against his fingers within a few minutes.

As if nothing had happened, he grabbed his glass and took a drink, like his only interest was getting me off and receiving nothing in return. He kept me against the wall, looking at me as he enjoyed his drink, sometimes a drop catching in the corner of his mouth. He stared at me like an artist who couldn’t decide what to chisel off his sculpture next because it was already perfect.

“As much as I’m enjoying all this…you’ve made it up to me.”

He finished his drink then put it down. “Watching you come is foreplay for me.”

“That’s several days of foreplay, then.”

“Worth the wait.”

My arms circled his neck again, and I held him close, never feeling safer than I did in moments like this, when his powerful hands were on me, when his bulletproof chest was against mine. “Well, I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

He gave a slight smile, a rare glimpse into his boyish charm. “When we go to bed.” The smile disappeared an instant later, leaving no trace behind. His eyes were dark and intense all over again.

The silence lasted a long time, and we just floated in the pool together, drinking and snacking, the night deepening.

He spoke. “I’m attending an event tomorrow night.”

“What kind of event?”

“Cocktail party.”

“Do you want me to come?”

The annoyed stare answered my question.

“Just wasn’t sure…”

“Don’t be unsure again.” He released me and drifted away slightly, turning around to take a look at the house as if to check on something before he returned to me, standing on his feet so his chest was above the water. He could say something so harsh, but it somehow felt romantic to me.

“Who will be there?”

“Socialites. Same characters you see me with. Magnus, as well.”

The mention of his brother immediately made a lightbulb brighten in my mind. My interactions with him were rare, and I’d only been alone with him for minutes at a time. But with a house full of people, it might be possible to slip away and speak to him without Fender knowing. I hid my reaction and enthusiasm. “I guess I’ll have to find something to wear.”

“Gilbert has taken care of it.”

“Of course, he has.”

Fender studied my face. “Has he been good to you?”

The two of us would never be civil again. Gilbert had taken the rejection worse than Fender did. Or maybe he was just upset that I was back in the house and he had to watch us together. But I actually liked him because he was so loyal to Fender. No other butler would care so much, would be so trustworthy. “Yes. He’s great.”

He seemed to believe me because he admired the grounds behind me, his hand moving to the back of his neck to give himself a quick scratch. He was so strong, with such hard features to his face that made him undeniably handsome. He could walk into any bar and get any woman he wanted, even if they spoke different languages. With every passing month, every week, every day, I found him more irresistible. It was hard to believe that I was his one and only, that I was enough for him.