by S. J. West
“Just starting the soup,” I tell her. “Did you come to check up on me or to make sure I haven’t set the kitchen on fire yet?”
Millie blushes.
“A little bit of both,” she admits. “Plus, Master Malcolm asked me to set the formal dining table upstairs for the dinner. I came down here to get the silverware and see if you needed anything.”
“I think I have everything under control,” I tell her, surprised that I actually do feel like can cook the meal planned all by myself. “What are Malcolm and Lucas doing?”
“I’m not entirely sure,” Millie tells me, walking over to a set of cabinets and pulling out a medium size polished wood box which must contain the silverware she came down to get. “I saw them head into Master Malcolm’s workshop, but they didn’t tell me what they were up to.”
That seemed a little odd to me. We had finished building the birdhouse that afternoon. But, I didn’t have time to ponder what else they might be doing in there. I had a supper to prepare.
About an hour later I had everything cooking. The soup was practically done. It just needed time to simmer on the stove. The chicken was baking in the oven, as well as the bread. I had already prepared the salad. There really wasn’t anything else to do but wait.
“It smells delicious in here,” I hear Malcolm say as he strolls into the kitchen. His cheeks have a rosy hue, evidence that he’s been outside in the cold for a while.
“I’m just waiting for things to cook,” I tell him.
He walks up to me and sweeps me off my feet and into his arms. The smile on his face as he looks at me is filled with so much love and happiness I have to kiss him.
“I have a surprise for you,” he tells me as our lips part.
“You do?” I ask, wondering if this is the moment I’ve been waiting for all day.
Malcolm begins to walk out of the kitchen with me still cradled in his arms. We ascend the grand staircase to the second floor, and Malcolm takes me into his bedroom.
“Do we have time for this?” I ask, assuming Malcolm is absconding with my person for a playful romp on his bed.
“Yes,” Malcolm says, not stopping by his bed like I had hoped. He heads straight into his bathroom. “You have plenty of time for a bath.”
The white claw foot tub in the room is filled with water and brimming to almost overflowing with bubbles.
Malcolm sits me on my feet.
“Take your clothes off,” he tells me.
“Have you finally come to your senses and decided to put me out of my misery?” I ask him, hoping this order for nakedness is going where I want it to go.
Malcolm smiles. “I haven’t changed my mind,” he says resolutely. “I do have some modicum of self-control, even though there are others who would argue otherwise.”
I wrap my arms around Malcolm’s neck.
“How much longer are you going to make me wait, Malcolm?” I pout, effectively I hope.
“Haven’t you ever heard the age-old adage that all good things come to those who wait?”
“No,” I say. “Whoever said that was a complete idiot.”
Malcolm laughs and kisses me on the lips, but it’s only a quick peck. He picks up a hairclip from the counter by the sink and turns me around so he can pile my hair on top of my head and secure it there. Presumably so it doesn’t get wet during my bath.
“Get undressed, my love,” he says, kissing the side of my neck. “And let me know when you’re in the tub.”
I look over my shoulder only to see him turn his back to me.
I sigh, feeling slightly frustrated and disappointed, but I do as I’m told and strip off my clothes.
Once I’m safely underneath the camouflage of the bubbles, I say, “You can turn back around now.”
Malcolm faces me while pushing up the sleeves of the shirt he’s wearing above his elbows. He saunters over to the tub and kneels down beside it. He reaches over me and grabs a bottle labeled soap from the metal holder hanging on the side of the tub. I watch him pour some into his cupped hand and then place the bottle back in its spot in the tray. He rubs his hands together to spread the soap onto both.
“No wash cloth?” I ask, finding it hard to breathe because I have a feeling I understand Malcolm’s intent.
“I don’t think I need one,” he says, looking up from his hands to meet my gaze. “Do you?”
I shake my head, not able to find any words to say.
“Lie back,” Malcolm tells me.
I do as he says, watching him as he leans forward to place his hands near the base of my throat, massaging the soap up the sides of my neck and across my shoulders. He takes my right arm into both of his hands and gingerly runs them down the length of it to my fingertips. He lets it slide back into the water and pays the same loving attention to my left arm. He reaches for the bottle in the tray again and pours some more of the liquid soap into his hand.
“Raise one of your legs, Anna,” Malcolm says, his voice sounding hoarse this time.
I raise my right leg and he wraps his fingers around my ankle to hold it up for me while he uses his other hand to lather the soap it holds across the sole of my foot and between my toes, making me giggle from the ticklish sensation. I see Malcolm smile at my laughter as he continues to slide his hand down the length of my calf, over my knee, and along my thigh underneath the water, causing me to catch my breath as the tips of his fingers graze across my hip.
Malcolm rests my leg back into the water.
“Now the other one,” Malcolm requests, his voice a low whisper this time.
I raise it out of the water and watch Malcolm’s face as he gives it the same gentle treatment. I notice his breathing is a little more labored now than it was when he first started and see my opening to end the pleasurable torment we’ve both been suffering through practically since we met.
As his fingers glide down my leg and dive beneath the water again to reach my thigh, I say, “Malcolm…”
The sound of his name passing between my lips isn’t just me saying his name. The word is filled with a desperate request that he not take his hand away from me. It’s a quiet plea for him to continue along the natural trail my inner thigh leads to because I feel like I might die on the spot from want if he doesn’t touch me there in that instant. The ache has become more than I can bear, and it would be so simple for him to satisfy my physical torture, to finally help me find release.
I see Malcolm swallow hard as his hand gently massages my inner thigh, but he doesn’t give into my desires. Instead, he gently glides it across the sensitive flesh of my belly and between the valley of my breasts until it emerges out of the water, sliding up to behind my neck. In one quick motion, he leans in and at the same time pulls me forward until our lips meet. His mouth ravishes mine telling me without words how much he yearns to oblige my request. The kiss is almost savage in its intensity, making me want him even more.
Malcolm suddenly pulls away, leaving me longing for so much more from him.
He stares down at me, and I can see a war raging behind his eyes. It’s so plain to see that he desires me as much as I desire him. Why does he keep denying us both so much pleasure?
“I’m here, Lady Anna!” I hear Millie call from the bedroom, breaking the intimate connection between us with her arrival.
Malcolm leans in one more time and kisses me again, but it’s different now because we both know our moment has passed.
“Millie will help you get dressed,” Malcolm tells me as he stands to his feet. “I should go get dressed myself. They’ll be here soon.”
I don’t say a word because I know it would simply come out sounding like a plea for him to continue what he started.
Malcolm phases. I notice his phase trail leads out to the courtyard for some reason. Why would he go out there to get dressed for a dinner party?
I lie back in the tub and try to purge myself of the pent up desires his bathing of me has induced.
What was he thinking? How much tortu
re was he trying to put me through before he finally relented and gave into our mutual desire for one another?
“Lady Anna?” Millie says, cautiously peeking into the bathroom. “Are you ready to get dressed, my sweet?”
“Give me a minute, Millie,” I say, trying to hold onto my last bit of sanity and pull myself together enough to make it through the dinner party we were hosting that evening.
I stand from the tub and grab a towel that’s been left on a nearby stool. After I dry my body, I go to the bedroom and see Millie fussing over a gown lying on Malcolm’s bed. It’s a deep red, full length dress with a crystal beaded waistline and shirred bodice. An extra swath of fabric cascades down from the one-shoulder strap to gently sweep from front to back across the upper arm.
“Did you make it?” I ask Millie.
“Oh dear me no,” Millie says with a small laugh. “I bought it the other day when I went shopping for your clothes.”
“Why haven’t I seen it before now?”
“Master Malcolm asked me to keep it hidden until tonight. I guess he wanted it to be a surprise.”
Millie helps me dress and styles my hair into a classic loose bun.
By the time I’m ready, I realize it’s time to go back down to the kitchen and finish preparing the meal.
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Millie tells me. “Giles and I will handle the rest. You’ve done all the hard work. Let us worry about serving it. And Vala has volunteered to stay down in the kitchen with Luna to keep the pup from disturbing your evening.”
A quick knock resounds on the other side of the door just before Malcolm pokes his head in and asks, “Are you decent?”
Seeing that I am fully clothed, he opens the door the rest of the way, and I see my two men dressed rather sharply for our evening together.
Malcolm and Lucas are dressed in matching tuxedos. The jacket and pants are made out of a dark grey pinstripe material with silver cravat ties and matching vests and pocket squares. The picture they make standing together instantly brings a smile to my face.
“Well, don’t the two of you look dapper this evening,” I say as I walk over to them.
“Wow,” Lucas says looking at me with his eyes as wide as saucers. “You’re beautiful, mommy.”
“Thank you.”
Malcolm holds his hand out to me. “Shall we go greet our guests?”
“Are they here already?”
“No,” Malcolm says. “But they’ll be here in exactly five minutes.”
I laugh. “How on earth could you know that with such precision?”
Malcolm shrugs as I reach out to take his proffered hand. “It’s a Watcher trait. We have internal clocks that make it almost impossible for us to be late or early anywhere.”
His words explain how all of the other Watchers phased to the spot where we met Levi for the trade at the exact same time.
“You look lovely by the way,” Malcolm says as we make our way down the hallway to the staircase. “Have I told you lately what a lucky man I am?”
“Yes, but I don’t think you can ever say it enough.”
“I’m a very lucky man, Anna,” he says again, gently squeezing the hand he holds to emphasize his words. “Very lucky indeed.”
Malcolm escorts me into the formal dining room, a room I haven’t been in yet.
It has a very tall ceiling, nearly twenty feet, with dark wood wainscoting and walls painted a warm light yellow. Hanging on the walls are portraits of women, some of whom I actually recognize. The most prominent one is of Lilly which hangs on the wall behind the head of the table. It’s at least five feet tall and shows her in a black dress standing in a rose garden.
“Brand painted that portrait of her,” Malcolm tells me. He points to a slightly smaller portrait to the left of Lilly. “That’s Caylin when she turned eighteen.”
I look around at the other portraits in the room. “Who are the other girls?”
“The descendants who came before you,” Malcolm says looking at them all.
I search the portraits but see one descendant missing from the bunch.
“Where’s the one of my mother?”
“You had that one,” Malcolm says. “Andre took it to Cirrus so you would always have her near you.”
“Oh,” I say, remembering Levi destroyed my mother’s portrait with his lightning whip the night he revealed himself to me. “Maybe I can paint another one of her from memory to replace it.”
“I’m sure you can,” Malcolm says full of confidence in my untested ability. “All of the descendants painted their own portraits.”
“You could practice with me,” Lucas volunteers. “I promise to sit real still while you do it.”
I hug Lucas close to my side. “I would love that.”
“They’re coming,” Malcolm says, just as our guests phase into the dining room.
I feel my forehead crinkle as I look at them all.
They’re all dressed in the same exact tuxedo as Malcolm and Lucas.
I want to ask why they’re all dressed alike but feel such a question would seem rude. Only Linn stands out amongst the group in a traditional Chinese evening gown. It’s made of royal purple silk with a gold lace overlay, mandarin collar with frog button, and short cap sleeves.
They all walk over to us.
“You look lovely, Anna,” Linn says to me as she leans in and kisses me on each cheek.
“And you are simply gorgeous,” I tell her. “That dress is stunning.”
I look at the other four Watchers in the room. “You all look very handsome…in your matching suits.”
“Matching?” Jered says, feigning ignorance as he looks down at himself and then to his brothers. “Oh, I guess we do, don’t we?”
“Yes…” I say, seeing them all smile at one another in a conspiratorial fashion. But, I still refrain from asking why they’re all wearing the same suit. I assume if they truly wanted me to know the real reason someone would say it.
“So,” Brutus says to me, “Malcolm told us you were cooking the meal we’ll be eating this evening.”
“Yes, I did,” I say proudly.
No one says another word. They all just stare at me looking somewhat worried over this fact.
“Well,” Desmond finally says, breaking the silence in the room, “this should be…interesting.”
Before I can ask why they all seem so sure I’ve failed miserably in my attempt, Millie enters the room with Giles following close behind her, rolling in the meal I prepared on a wooden cart.
We all sit down at the table as they serve us the potato and sausage soup I made.
I watch the men, except for Malcolm, around the table as they all peer into their bowls with apprehension, like the soup is alive and might eat them instead of the other way around.
Linn shakes her head at their behavior and picks up her spoon to take the first sip of the soup.
The others watch her closely like their expecting her to have an adverse reaction after eating it.
After she swallows, she looks over at me and smiles.
“Delicious, Anna,” she compliments.
I audibly hear a collective sigh of relief as the others reach for their own spoons and tentatively begin to eat the soup. After a couple of bites, the boys dig in with gusto and even ask for a second helping of it from Millie.
I feel Malcolm place a hand on one of my thighs underneath the table and give it a gentle squeeze. I look over at him, and he winks at me.
Millie quickly serves us the baked chicken, salad and rolls I made while Giles refills everyone’s crystal goblets with white wine, except for Lucas, of course, who gets some white milk instead.
This time no one seems concerned about surviving the meal I’ve prepared and eat while we have casual conversations about what’s going on in their respective lives.
“Well, I have some interesting news to report,” Desmond tells us while he butters his roll. “Something very odd is going on with Lorcan Halloran.”
/> “Why?” Brutus asks, obviously interested in what his soul mate’s brother is up to. “What’s he done this time?”
“Nothing bad,” Desmond is quick to tell Brutus to ease his worries. “He’s actually been rather generous the past few days. He’s sent more supplies to the down-worlders in the past two days than the Hallorans have during their whole entire reign of Stratus.”
“Do you know the reason why?” Malcolm asks, I can tell from the tone of his voice he finds this uncharacteristic behavior of Lorcan’s suspicious.
Desmond shrugs. “Haven’t got a clue. All I know is that they were desperately needed. Maybe the drugs he’s been taking have actually transformed him into a real human being.”
“Is Kyna all right?” Brutus asks.
“I haven’t heard from her in a while,” Desmond admits. “I’m sorry. I wish I had more to tell you.”
“But you would know if she were in trouble?” Brutus presses.
“I’m sure word would have reached me if she were,” Desmond tries to reassure Brutus.
Brutus nods, accepting Desmond’s assumption, but I can tell he’s still worried about her. I silently hope we can resolve the situation with the princes quickly so we can all get on with our lives.
“I can’t believe this meal,” Jered says in amazement. “Did you help her do any of this, Malcolm?”
“Not a bit of it,” Malcolm answers succinctly.
“Well, you certainly are a miracle worker then,” Daniels says with a shake of his head. “I didn’t think you would be able to do it. Congratulations!”
“I knew I could do it if I put my mind to it,” Malcolm answers modestly.
I just stare at them all as each of them congratulates Malcolm.
“Wait a minute. You do realize I’m the one who actually cooked this meal, right?” I ask them, not seeing why they’re giving all the credit to Malcolm.
“Trying to teach one of you descendants to cook has been tried before,” Brutus tells me. “Every attempt was a wretched failure. We had little hope it would work this time. Though, Malcolm protested that you would be the one who broke that particular tradition of your lineage.”
“You did a wonderful job, Anna,” Linn says. “I think we’re all simply proud of your accomplishment. Who would have thought the Empress of Cirrus would be cooking for a poor woman like me?”
