by Kimball Lee
“Let’s go have a drink, Alaina, actually you should have water to clear your head,” he said, releasing her abruptly, leading her to the lobby bar in the ship’s glass domed rotunda.
“Drink this, all of it,” he said, taking a glass of water from a server’s tray before they even had time to sit down. He held it to her lips and his eyes warned her not to question him, ‘just drink the damn water’, was his unspoken command.
“William,” she whispered when she’d emptied the glass. He seemed satisfied and they settled into vintage velvet armchairs with only a small bistro table separating them.
“Listen to me, Alaina, I’ve let this get out of hand. I’m not one to swoon over a woman and you’re barely more than a girl. Let me tell you something about myself, I’m twenty-eight and by my own calculated choice I don’t have a social life and I don’t want a love affair. I run one of the largest shipping lines in the world among other subsidiary enterprises and that’s just the tip of the iceberg, which isn’t meant to be a pun considering ships and icebergs and disasters.” He smiled for a moment and reached for her hands which were trembling, but he thought better of it. A cocktail server set two champagne flutes on the marble topped table and William finished both drinks in an instant. “I am bad fucking news for a girl like you, Allie Darling. Believe me when I say that. Find yourself a nice ordinary man, a wholesome boyfriend who will love and cherish you. I hope you’ll forgive me for getting slightly lost in your eyes and your beauty and your seductive goodness.”
“I want you to get lost in me,” she said with so much sincerity that William knew he would never forget her words. This girl had awakened something that was buried deep inside him, something he was sure had died long ago. He knew his brother’s words were true, looking at Allie was like seeing the true face of love.
“Please be careful what you say to me, Alaina, words have power. You study the words of great authors, so you should be aware that they can change everything—lives, fate, destiny. Your words, your every movement affects me, I can’t explain it. Don’t tempt me, I won’t fall in love, I won’t allow myself that false happiness because it can break a man’s soul. I control my world and as enticing as you are, I will not concede to let you to become part of it.”
Allie stared down at the white linen napkin she was twisting in her hands and William thought it would kill him when her tears spilled in huge drops and left their dark stain. He wanted to stop those sorrowful tears and he wanted more than that… much more. He wanted to reach beneath the table and move his hand up the whisper soft skin of her thighs, then let his fingers invade the sanctity of her pussy. He wanted that most intimate part of her for his own, he longed to feel the velvety folds and tight hot depths and taste the salty sweet goodness. But she would want more, she wasn’t a ‘one night stand’ kind of girl, he knew that without a doubt. She might not admit or even realize how easily they could get tangled up in one another and one summer would not be long enough. Better to never go there, better to turn her away and never let her test his resolve.
“Speak of the devil and here he is in the flesh,” Marisa stood over them, her face was tight with envy and her voice was cloyingly sweet. “Mind if we join you, Mr. Warfield? Look who I ran into,” she said, pulling a chair to the table and pointing over her shoulder at Tanya.
“Yes, aren’t I the lucky one?” Tanya said and she rolled her eyes and mouthed an apology to William. “I left the… I left Abigail to hold down the fort and escorted Marisa here to her room. She’s had a bit too much fun for one night and it seems your father has arranged for her to stay here on the Countess Warfield for as long as she likes.”
“You’ve had enough of me William but unlike you, your father is an extremely kind man,” she hissed, leaning forward to rake her fingernails over the slight shadow of stubble on his jaw. He calmly removed her hand from his face and then she turned her attention to Allie. “He already has you in tears, sweetie? Big surprise, don’t waste your time on William, he’s a fucking disaster when it comes to love and romance. If you let yourself love him it won’t be long before you fully understand the meaning of crimes of the heart.”
“Don’t speak to her. Do you hear what I’m saying, Marisa? Allie does not need to be exposed to your disgusting negativity.” William sprang to his feet and stood next to Allie staring down at Marisa with barely contained fury. “Tanya, I want this venomous woman out of the city and state within the hour, can you manage that please? I own this hotel Marisa, my father has nothing to do with it and you are no longer welcome here. I’ll make sure that you’re comfortable elsewhere, somewhere closer to your own family. I thought I’d made myself abundantly clear before, New Orleans isn’t the place for you.”
“Fine, I’ll go, William, and it will cost you dearly if you expect me to keep quiet about your brother’s kinky club.” Marisa jerked her arm away when Tanya tried to lead her out of the bar. She tossed her flaming red hair over her shoulder and held her head high as she peered more closely at Allie. “As for you, let me assure you of this, he will never make love to a mousy little prom queen like you. He will fuck you, however, in more ways than one. Oh yes, he’ll fuck you until he’s sure that he can send you on your way as damaged as he is. Don’t expect love songs and valentines from William Warfield, romance is a complete sacrilege as far as he’s concerned. He’s capable of many things but tenderness is not one of them. By the way, he always drinks that same wicked drink, supposedly it was Hemingway’s favorite,” she laughed and picked up the empty champagne flute and thrust it in Allie’s face. “Death in the Afternoon that’s what his drink of choice is called and I believe he’s overly fond of it because it makes him think of what the French refer to as ‘la petite mort’—the little death. If you’re too naive to understand the meaning let me explain it to you…”
“I understand the French term for orgasm and thank you for taking the time to explain so many details about William. He’s been a most considerate host and a perfect gentleman since the moment we met. Maybe he treats you like a common whore because you go out of your way to behave like one,” Allie said, and she nearly fainted at the look on Marisa’s face and especially that she’d had the courage to say the words to such a hateful woman.
“Touché,” William told the gaping speechless Marisa and his smile was so bright and genuine that Allie straightened her shoulders, held her head high and basked in its radiant glow.
*
“There are a dozen fine shops here on the ship where we can get you the required “nightie” and some clothes for tomorrow,” William said, his hand rested lightly on Allie’s elbow as he steered her across the spectacular round lobby. “I’ll send your duffel bag over first thing in the morning unless you can’t live without it tonight. If that’s the case then I’m sure Miss Hawkins will be happy to leave her cats and her books and her comfortable bed and bring it to you right now.”
“Don’t be rude,” Allie said, smirking as she glanced up at him, her heart tripping over itself at the mere touch of his warm hand on her arm. “I wouldn’t want to take Miss Hawkins away from her cats and her romance novels. Oh hell no! These shops are filled with designer brands, my budget is geared more toward Old Navy and Target. I don’t need a… nightgown and who’s gonna see me in it anyway? I’ll just wear this dress again tomorrow, if I hang it in the bathroom while I shower the steam will make the wrinkles disappear like magic.”
You’re magic! He wanted to say, but she was not his to toy with. She was intelligent, beautiful, sensual and intriguing and some lucky man would find his way to her and make her his own. A man who would live out his life wholly in love with this marvelous girl who was a prize to be wooed and won and cherished. William had never wanted a woman more than he wanted Allie and he was used to having whatever he wanted. But he would not use this girl for his own selfish pleasure, his father had been right to warn William not to hurt her.
“If we’re going to be friends Alaina then you should understand from
the start that I am uncompromising when I make up my mind about any given matter. So please don’t argue with me over a few articles of clothing that I intend to purchase for you. If you’re worried that I can’t afford it, well don’t, my credit is good at this hotel. Here we go, let’s check out Stella McCartney and Zac Posen, their designs are a fresh take on classic style.”
“If we’re going to be friends?” Allie whispered as they entered the boutique and a sales woman rushed to meet them. Allie had been lukewarm about love in the past and absolutely tepid when it came to sex with her ‘somewhat serious’ boyfriend in college. But like a bolt from the blue she was thunderstruck by her desire for William Warfield, and maybe worse than that, she was probably thunder-fucked since he wanted nothing to do with her in the sex or romance department.
“Yes, Alaina, I think we should be friends… buddies. Alright, what would you like to wear for your first day on the job? Pants, a skirt and blouse, how about this dress?” He said holding up a short wrap dress in black crepe de chine with a tiny pattern of white flowers.
“Oh that’s lovely!” The middle-aged sales clerk gushed, plucking a smaller sized dress from the rack for Allie without taking her eyes off William. “Let’s get you into a dressing room, dear, and Mr. Warfield and I will pick out many, many beautiful items for you. Shall I make an appointment at the hair salon in the morning? Your hair is a bit long and shapeless, you might do well to have a chic new style.”
“Her hair is perfect the way it is,” William said and the look on his face spoke volumes.
So, even the indomitable William Warfield has his Achilles’ heel. The clerk mused, lifting an eyebrow as she sized up the young woman who had obviously found the proverbial weak spot in William’s armor. She was fresh looking, a rare classic beauty with large soulful eyes, enchantingly thick lashes and a naturally full pouty mouth that was all the rage these days. The girl wore an inexpensive dress that might have seemed tacky on someone less confident, but she wore it with unerring style. She had an enviously slim yet shapely feminine figure and her movements were fluid and graceful. If the unthinkable were to happen and William Warfield fell in love there would surely be a collective groan heard throughout the South from the single females in New Orleans and beyond. If this girl was the one to win his heart then he deserved a round of applause. He had his choice of mannequin-like, overly thin, frighteningly silicone enhanced, anxiously giddy debutants, but he had chosen the real thing, a woman who was less ‘Barbie’ and more ‘girl next door’.
“I love it,” William said when Allie stood in front of a full length mirror and fasted a black patent-leather belt at her waist. “The dress suits you, soft and yet it still shows that you mean business. Now, shoes, under… garments? Where can we find those, Miss…?”
“My name is Leona, sir. The Agent Provocateur lingerie shop is next door and the Manolo Blahnik boutique is two doors down on your right. Mr. Warfield, now that I know your young lady friend’s size and style why don’t I hand pick the necessary items and have them sent directly to her suite? That way the pair of you can have time for… more interesting activities.”
“Agent Provocateur? I don’t think that sounds like the type of undies I would wear… not to work at least,” Allie glanced up at William and the look of mischief that crinkled the corners of his eyes set her cheeks on fire and her heart racing. “Fine, have them sent up… oh, whatever! Just ask if they have a nightgown without leather straps or chains. Actually, skip the nightgown, naked should work just fine since I have the bed all to myself.” And with that Allie thanked Leona and William for their help and generosity and went to collect the key to her room.
“Hey, slow down. Allie, wait a minute. Let me get you settled in your room and I can send a car to drive you to work tomorrow,” William said taking long strides to catch up to her as she reached the hotel’s front desk.
She whirled around and placed a hand on his chest to stop him from moving any closer. “William, you are the nicest man I think I’ve ever met and also the most infuriating. I’ve tried to decipher your constant mixed messages for two days and it’s made me a little cranky. So, I thank you for the clothes and the flawless hospitality but I don’t need you to send a car for me and don’t waste your time with concern for my welfare. Contrary to your beliefs, I am a grown woman who knows without a shadow of a doubt what I want in life and how to get it. Hot billionaires with hearts of stone are not on my bucket list, so you are off the hook. The kiss we shared was incredible, I’ll just file it under ‘Best first kiss that ever existed in the history of the world’ and move on. Goodnight, I can find my room and my way in your city all by myself, thank you very much Mr. Warfield.”
And just like that she walked away with William staring after her. He was truly at a loss for words. His eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed at the unfamiliar twinge in his heart as Alaina Darling left him behind.
Chapter Five
Allie slept naked and her restless dreams were filled with images of William Warfield. When she woke at dawn, her body shuddered and then stiffened and her eyelids fluttered open as she squeezed her thighs tightly together to savor the orgasm. Hmmm, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a wet dream. She slipped two fingers between her legs and she gasped at how wet and overly sensitive her smoothly waxed pussy was. It had been a long, long time since she had given herself pleasure and the last few times she’d tried she gave up for lack of a suitable fantasy man to focus on.
The only thing that worked was the handy-dandy little fingertip vibrator she’d ordered on the internet the year before. Only problem was she hardly ever used it thanks to the lack of door locks in her college dorm. Not only that, but the stupid batteries just loved to run out of power at the most inopportune moment. Mostly she forgot she even had the strangely effective gizmo since finding a moment alone in her dorm room was rare. Her roommate Jenna was a new age free-spirited hippie who encouraged Allie to go ahead and use her “masturbatory device” while Jenna was three feet away in her bed studying, it wouldn’t bother her. She informed Allie that she did most of her masturbating in the girl’s shower and she didn’t give a shit who saw or heard her, people had needs, so why didn’t all the little sorority prudes just get the fuck over it.
But Allie couldn’t imagine having an orgasm with Jenna in the same room. The truth was she hadn’t ever had an orgasm with anyone else in the room, not even the boyfriend she had fairly frequent sex with. So she had basically given up on sex. Her battery-powered toy was unreliable and her now ex-boyfriend had hated to tell her so, but he said she really didn’t have a knack for sex… period, the end. The end until William Warfield had opened a Pandora’s Box of carnal desire and smoking hot imagery that was waking her up in more ways than one.
*
William or his father, she wasn’t sure which, had arranged for her to have a sumptuous suite rather than a single room. She slipped out of bed and shrugged into a plush bathrobe monogrammed with an ornate CW for Countess Warfield. What a life! She mused as she wandered from the bedroom to the ornate white marble bath and then to the living and dining rooms. The rooms were elaborately decorated in an Art Deco style to match the era when the luxury ocean liner was first launched into service. Large polished brass portholes provided a picturesque view of the New Orleans skyline paired with a glimpse of the wide green Mississippi River. Everything about this sultry city pulsed with a history of carnality and romance. It had been home to pirates who were bewitched by voodoo priestesses, southern gentlemen gallantly courting seductive southern belles, streetcars named for desire, and Storyville—the red-light district where the House of the Rising Sun had been the ruin of many willing young men and where prostitutes practiced their craft from 1897 to 1917 under the approving patronage of local authorities.
The irony was not lost on Allie. Here she was in the romance capitol of America and she was falling for the one man who wanted nothing to do with the nonsense of love or sex that might actually link hi
s dick to his heart. A knock at the door tore her thoughts away from William and his face and his body and his heart and his dick. Man, what a lethal combination! She sighed and answered the door.
“Breakfast, Miss Darling, compliments of the hotel and your… luggage, I suppose you could say, compliments of Mr. William Warfield,” the young man gave her a conspiratorial grin and rolled the cart into the suite.
“Thank you, and to refer to my duffel bag as luggage is pushing it a bit, don’t you think?” Allie found her purse, dug through it and held out a tip for the bellman. He waved his hands in front of him as he backed out the door, refusing the money and repeating “Compliments of Mr. Warfield.”
“Compliments of Mr. Warfield, compliments of mister I’m not the man for you so steer clear of me Allie, blah blah blah. Well you can kiss my ass… not that I could even get you to, but make up your freaking mind William Warfield, either you’re in my life or you’re not! I DO NOT WANT TO BE YOUR BUDDY! Fabulous, now I’m talking to myself… and maybe shouting a little, too.”
*
William was trying desperately to rationalize the reason he was reading the Wall Street Journal in the lobby of the Countess Warfield at nine o’clock in the morning. After all, his offices were there on the top deck of the ship, all he had to do was step into one of the elaborate elevators and he would be at his desk in minutes. He wanted to see Allie Darling when she left for her first day on the job, which was the reason he lingered when he had more important issues to deal with and there was no denying it. It disturbed him, his undeniable attraction to a girl—a young woman, who was the polar opposite of the women he found himself attracted to sexually. He liked his women “bold and cold” as Walden had laughingly pointed out on more than one occasion. Women who shared his penchant for hot hard unemotional unattached mostly anonymous often with a hint of danger ‘hit it and forget it’ sex.
