Nobody’s going to be looking at me. Skye really hoped that was true. He donned socks then laced his black leather combat boots. There was no sign of the house collar Luke had mentioned so Skye headed back downstairs to ask where he could get one. Even though there were still ten minutes before the guests were due to arrive, everyone but the kitchen crew was gathered in the entrance hall. As Skye came down the stairs, heads swiveled and several sets of eyes fixed on him.
“Bloody hell.” Rayne gaped.
“He looks hotter than we do.” Fergus nudged Henry, who grinned.
“He so does.”
Skye stalled, not knowing whether to continue his descent or turn around and run back to his room. He met Luke’s eyes, sending a silent plea for help.
“Your outfit isn’t quite complete, is it, Skye? Come here, please.” Luke crooked a finger. He held a strip of leather in his hand. Skye kept his gaze fixed on Luke as he tackled the rest of the stairs. He dropped to his knees in front of him because it felt like the right thing to do, ignoring the gasps from the men around him. Luke brushed his fingers down Skye’s cheek before buckling the collar around his neck. He tested its fit.
“Not too tight?”
“No, Sir.”
“Good. If I’m not mistaken, I think I can hear our guests arriving.” Luke tapped Skye’s shoulder. “Up you get. Stay close to me. You’ll be fine.”
Skye relaxed his hunched shoulders, glad that there was now something else to draw people’s attention away from him. Rayne, Fergus and Henry dashed outside, ready to help with the luggage, and Luke followed them at a more sedate pace to stand on the front steps. Skye stayed as close to his side as he could.
Three cars, driving in convoy, pulled up in a scatter of gravel. Men spilled from every door, laughing and chattering. Skye couldn’t help but smile at their exuberant excitement. He tried to work out in his head who was with who. It was clear that two older men, in their sixties he guessed, were together. They looked on with benevolent amusement as the others unloaded a growing pile of cases and bags.
“Wait here.” Luke made his way toward the older couple. He shook hands with one of them and introduced himself. Skye couldn’t hear their conversation, but it was clear that one man deferred to the other. He decided he should be doing something to help instead of standing around like a spare part, so he joined the procession of baggage handling and soon everything was piled in the hall, surrounded by a gaggle of guests.
“Skye,” Luke said, “please take everyone through to the banqueting hall for refreshments. In the meantime, we’ll get the luggage to your rooms, gentlemen. Perhaps if someone could help divide up the pile so that we know which bags belong to each of you?”
Skye ended up accompanying a group of five who, from their conversation, he guessed to be Doms. In the banqueting hall, there was a roaring fire in the grate and several groupings of comfortable chairs. Tea and coffee were already set out on the long table, along with plates of miniature pastries. Skye asked each man in turn what he would like then served him. He got a lot of kind smiles and encouraging words as if they could sense how nervous he was. He’d only just finished when the rest of the guests arrived, following Luke and speaking in excited whispers. Like homing pigeons in formation, they headed for their partners.
“May I serve the subs, Sir?” Skye asked Luke, not sure about the correct protocol.
Luke cleared his throat—all it took to silence the room. “Gentlemen, I’d like to introduce Skye, who will be your server this week.” He squeezed Skye’s shoulder, giving reassurance but also, Skye felt, announcing his claim. A few knowing looks were cast his way. The Oriental rug became an object of fascination. “Are you happy for Skye to talk directly to your partners or should he speak to Doms only?”
“I’m Roy,” the older sub announced. “Saul and I are celebrating our fortieth anniversary together this week and we’d prefer not to stand on ceremony. We just want to have fun with our friends.” He looked at his partner, who returned his smile. “I think we’re very lucky to have a sweet thing like Skye looking after us and he should feel free to talk to anyone. That’s right, isn’t it, Sir?”
“Couldn’t have put it better myself, love. After forty years together, believe me, I know who’s in charge.” Saul’s comment got a chorus of laughter. He gave Roy’s arse a gentle slap. “Perhaps it would help if we did a round of introductions?”
Skye tried his best to remember all the names but hoped that ‘sir’ would suffice when he forgot.
“We are delighted to have you all here,” Luke said. “Please relax and enjoy yourselves. The houseboys will be back soon and will give you the grand tour in two groups to avoid crowding, then you can get settled in your rooms—and discover their secrets. Lunch will be served at your convenience, and if you have any special requests, please let Skye know so he can relay information to the kitchen. I’ll leave you in Skye’s capable hands, but I’ll be at your disposal all week should you need anything at all.”
Skye gulped and resisted the urge to grab Luke’s arm to prevent him from leaving.
“You’ll be fine. You can do this. I’ll see you later.” Luke gave Skye a rare smile before he left. Skye touched his collar, squared his shoulders then began another round of the guests, making sure all their refreshment needs were met. He even plucked up the courage to discuss lunch arrangements with Roy and Saul who were more than happy to leave all the menu choices to Tor. They seemed such a relaxed and amenable couple, comfortable in their own skins and with each other. Skye hoped that one day he’d be able to achieve the same serenity.
When Fergus and Henry arrived, there was a brief skirmish as everyone debated who should go on the tour with who, but they managed to sort themselves into one group of four and another of six before disappearing in different directions. Skye sighed, glad to have some space and relieved that he hadn’t messed anything up so far. He walked through to the kitchen to fetch a trolley. Benjy and Frank were beavering away, heads down. Local radio gave them a soundtrack to work to and it made Skye giggle to see them both bop in time to some pop tune he didn’t recognize. Benjy and Frank noticed him and both waved but kept working.
“They’re banned from singing,” Tor commented. “Neither one of them can hold a tune worth a damn. My ears don’t need that kind of torture.”
“I came for the trolley to clear the refreshments,” Skye explained. “There are no special requests for lunch other than those you already know about from the bookings. They’d like it served around one o’clock, but buffet style is fine. They’re very happy for you to sort out menus for the entire week.”
“The kind of clients I love,” Tor said. “A buffet is perfect. Once you’ve cleared, you can lay again for lunch. Use the oak sideboard for the crockery and silverware, a white cloth for the main table, and I’ll need…” Tor paused, muttering the names of various dishes. “Eight mats for the hot dishes.”
“Yes, Chef.” Skye was glad to have clear instructions.
“Okay, you carry on. Don’t worry about coming to me if you have any questions. It’s only day one and I don’t expect you to remember everything.”
Skye cleared the banqueting hall, making sure he’d found all the various plates that had been abandoned on various surfaces, then made preparations for the lunch service with an efficiency born of experience. He only had to ask Tor once—to locate linen napkins, which had been put away in the wrong place. He took pride in doing a good job, He enjoyed service and the pleasure it gave him. The feeling of satisfaction over a well-set table was hard to beat. Sparkling glasses, gleaming silverware and pristine linens made a beautiful picture. The Retreat provided the best of everything and, though he was a little nervous about dropping an expensive glass or plate, his hands remained steady.
He had some time, so ventured outside to see if he could find some foliage to add a bit of natural colour to the table. The chill air on his skin reminded him that he had no shirt on and the sun had little warmth. He c
huckled at how quickly he had got used to wearing so little. He hurried across the lawn to the nearest border, wishing he’d thought to bring some scissors. He was excited to see that there were dozens of late-blooming roses in a gorgeous shade of deep red, which would look great with some trailing ivy and a few stems of foliage. He reached for one, careful to avoid its thorns.
“What on earth do you think you’re doing out here, Skye?” Skye whirled around to find Luke advancing toward him. “No, don’t say anything. There can be no good reason for you being out here in the cold without a top.” Luke stripped off the dark gray pullover he had on over his shirt. “Arms up.” He slipped the jumper over Skye’s head. It still held the warmth of Luke’s body and was incredibly soft. A waft of fabric conditioner reached Skye’s cold nose.
“I was getting some flowers for a table display, Sir. I didn’t realize how cold it was out here.” Skye wrapped his arms around his body, giving himself a comforting hug. He hated that Luke was angry with him.
Luke’s expression softened. “You’ll rip your hands to pieces if you try to pick those roses. Here.” He pulled a Swiss army knife from his pocket. “Use this.” He levered out a blade that looked like a miniature saw. “This one should do the trick.”
Skye selected a dozen roses, some in bloom, some still in bud, before gathering some lengths of ivy and other foliage. Luke held out his arms so that Skye could pile everything into them, taking care not to stab him with a thorn.
“I think that’s enough, Sir.”
“Inside then. I need to get you warm.”
Luke’s concern heated Skye from the inside though his teeth were chattering. Inside, Luke walked straight through to the banqueting hall.
“Sit in one of those chairs by the fire.”
“I should…”
The look Luke gave Skye left him in no doubt that if he didn’t park his butt in front of the flames, it was likely to be on fire for another reason. He sank into one of the armchairs, leaning toward the heat. As his nose defrosted, it started to drip.
“Here.” Luke thrust a white cotton handkerchief into Skye’s hand. “Don’t worry, you can keep it.”
Skye blew his nose. He thawed quickly, his skin warming until he was so hot he had to move his chair back from the fireplace. He glanced at Luke from beneath his lashes.
“You and I need to have a conversation about you taking better care of yourself,” Luke scolded.
“I’m sorry, Sir.” Skye started to take off his borrowed jumper.
“Leave that on. You can take it off again when you’re serving lunch but not before.”
“Yes, Sir.” Secretly, Skye was delighted that he got to keep wearing Luke’s clothing even if the pullover was far too large for him.
“What am I going to do with you?”
“Spank him?” A booming voice rang out across the hall.
Skye twisted around to see who had arrived. He recognized the huge man as Goran, the barman from The Underground.
“Not a bad idea, Goran.” Luke grinned then walked across the hall where he was engulfed in a bear hug. Once he had extricated himself, he shook Goran’s hand. “It’s good to see you. I’m afraid there’s not much time for niceties. You’ll need to get straight to work because there’s less than an hour before lunch service, but we must catch up later.”
“Sounds good. Just point me at the bar. I left my bag in the car—I can deal with it later.” Goran gave Skye a wink.
“Give me your keys and I’ll ask Rayne to sort it out. He can take your luggage to your room once he’s parked your car around the back.”
“Is Rayne the cute redhead with the motor mouth? I think I saw him pick people up from The Underground a few times.” Goran handed over his keys.
“That’s him.”
“Hmm…another one in need of a spanking. Seems to be a common problem around here. I like it.”
“In his case, you might have to join a queue.”
Skye chuckled but went silent when the two Doms turned their collective attention on him. He gulped.
“Time you got back to work, Skye,” Luke said. “Perhaps you could show Goran where to go—he can keep an eye on you for me. No more half-naked escapades in the grounds, okay?”
“Half-naked, eh? I’m intrigued. Seems I’ve been missing out on the action and there was me thinking I was in for a quiet week down here in the sticks.” Laughing, Goran gave Luke’s shoulder a squeeze.
“No, Sir. I mean, yes, Sir.” Skye struggled out of the armchair, which was doing its best to swallow him whole. He could tell Luke was trying not to smile by the way his eyes glittered. “Have you been here before, Sir?” he asked Goran.
“Goran’s good enough for me, boy, I think you already have a ‘Sir’.” He threw a glance at Luke. “But to answer your question, no, I haven’t had the chance yet. Maybe when I have my own sub to bring with me, I’ll give the place a try.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” Luke said, heading for the door. “Behave yourself, Skye.”
Skye wasn’t sure whether there was a threat or a promise implicit in the order. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it.
“The bar has been set up in the snug and that’s where we’ll bring the group for their pre-meal drinks at lunchtime and before dinner. I’ll be around to help if you need me. There are wine lists in there too. Luke printed them out, but if you need them changed, I can do that for you. It’s through here.” Skye walked the short distance to the snug.
“We’ll encourage them to order wine while they’re in here, then I can bring the bottles through once they’re seated,” Goran said, taking everything in. “Are there any ice buckets around here?”
Skye showed Goran the cupboard where the buckets were stashed. “It’s a buffet lunch, so they may be a bit all over the place, but it will be set up in the banqueting hall where we were just now. There are loads of small tables to use for drinks. Lunch is at one, so I wouldn’t be surprised if some of them start finding their way down here soon.”
Goran moved behind the bar, checking things over. Skye wished he could be anywhere close to how self-assured Goran was. The big man seemed like he belonged right where he was. “Okay, Skye. I’m going to rearrange some of these bottles into an order I prefer. You can get back to whatever it was you were doing that got Luke so flustered. Well, maybe not exactly that.” He laughed, making a deep rumbling sound. “Never thought I’d see the day. He must think you’re something special.”
Skye shrugged. “I’m not.”
“Oh, sweetheart. Have you taken a look in the mirror recently? You turned heads at The Underground and I’d say you already have Luke Redding wrapped around your cute little finger.”
Skye’s confusion must have shown on his face.
“Such an innocent. Pay attention, Skye. Luke’s training you for himself, even if he doesn’t realize it yet.”
“He is? How…I mean, he hasn’t said anything.”
“I think you should talk to him about it, not me. You trust him, don’t you?”
Skye nodded.
“Well, he might not trust himself. It’s as much your job to take care of him as it is his to keep you safe. I find the best subs are always the most observant. There you go—Goran’s tip of the day. No charge.”
Skye left Goran to his bar and went back to the roses. It didn’t take him long to put together two arrangements for the main table, but his mind was elsewhere, full of thoughts of Luke. He wasn’t sure Goran had it right. It was difficult to know because Luke’s face gave little away. Skye resolved to follow Goran’s advice and pay more attention. He could hear people approaching, so after one last look over the table, he stripped off Luke’s pullover and went back to join Goran in the snug. Goran had taken off his jacket and was now clad in a leather harness that accentuated his chest. He gave Skye another wink.
“Very pretty.”
“Thanks, Goran.” Skye didn’t think he could use the same word to describe Goran, but there were plenty
of adjectives he could have found to describe those firm pecs and bulging arm muscles. He didn’t get a chance, though, because the first guests weren’t far behind him and soon he had no time to think about anything but drink orders and keeping a bunch of boisterous men happy.
Chapter Six
By the end of the day, Skye was dead on his feet. Dinner had been a huge success, with Tor going to town on the sports theme. He had even carved individual galia melons into the shape of American football helmets, hollowed out and stuffed with fruit salad. Skye had enjoyed listening to the exclamations of delight as he delivered the imaginative starters.
The group had made huge efforts with their costumes and Skye became the unofficial photographer between courses. His own outfit of black Lycra cycling shorts at least made running between the kitchen, bar and banqueting hall easy. He had to put out of his mind how obvious his cock cage was beneath the clingy material. Fergus and Henry only wore Speedos, so compared to them Skye was conservative.
He and Goran had worked well together, managing not to get under each other’s feet. The delivery of food and wine became a coordinated dance and Goran, despite his size, proved to be light on his feet. Skye heard almost as many complimentary adjectives applied to the barman as to the food by several of the subs and he could understand their appreciation. Goran wasn’t Skye’s type, but he was impressive physically and had a gentle but certain way about him that bred confidence. He seemed able to hold a conversation with anyone, however shy, and when Skye asked him about it he said it was part of a good barman’s skill set, the same as barbers and dentists. Skye had laughed at the latter, but when he thought about it, his dentist did always insist on holding a conversation even when Skye’s mouth was stuffed full of instruments and his entire head numb from anesthetic.
The meal stretched out over almost three hours then everyone had moved back to the snug to be closer to the bar. Fergus and Henry had helped Skye clear the table. He’d told them it wasn’t necessary because he didn’t want anyone to think he wasn’t capable of doing his job, but they had insisted and he’d been grateful because of the number of plates and dishes to move. It was also nice to chat to them about their day. Henry had been in the dungeon helping to demonstrate some of the equipment while Fergus had been invited to join Roy and Saul in their room. They were using the blue room, which Skye remembered had an impressive sling in the canopy of the four-poster bed. Fergus seemed to have had a great time and hoped that he would be invited back the next day.
Trusting Him Page 5
