Martin came back in with coffee and took their dishes away. He accepted the finality of Leah's spoon in her saucer and took her unfinished parfait away.
“Please, tell the cook how delicious supper was. The fish was perfect. And the parfait was so tempting I had to try it even though I wasn't hungry.” Leah sounded sweet and syrupy and sincere.
She drank her coffee thoughtfully. “When shall I report for work in the morning?” she asked.
Hugo started. Of course, she had come to work. “Shall we say eleven?” he suggested. “You can sleep in and we can get started after breakfast.”
Leah nodded briskly. “Eleven o'clock it is, sir. Where are we working?”
“The housekeeper will direct you to my office,” he informed her with a smile that displayed all his teeth—and frightened her.
“Then I will say good night,” she responded calmly. “It's been a long day and I could use a good night's sleep.” She stood up, and before he could grasp that she was leaving, she slipped away.
Hugo sat moodily in his chair staring at Leah's cup and saucer. He had an erection fiercer than all the ones she had induced in him in the last three weeks, and she had smiled and gone to bed—alone. Martin came in and Hugo asked for brandy.
“Is everyone ready to go home?” Hugo inquired.
“Just about, sir,” replied Marin. “We just has to wipe down to suit Miss Elsie and we can leave.” Miss Elsie was the dinner cook.
“Leave my glass until morning,” instructed Hugo. As soon as he sent Miss Southern Charm to sleep he could stretch his wings across the tropical sky.
* * *
Dinner had been awkward and uncomfortable. She hadn't really thought she would be entertaining Sarkany in the evenings. Still she was being paid to be available twenty-four seven. And if she stuck out the six weeks both she and Executive Services stood to wind up a hundred and fifty grand richer. She was still taken aback by Abby Markham's greedy grab for both bonuses. Maybe she was just old fashioned, but that had seemed not only unfair, but unethical.
Sarkany's offer had been to cover the cost of her exclusive services for six weeks, with the option to offer her full time employment without the eighteen month waiting period imposed by her contract with Executive Services. Plus an enormous clothing allowance.
The eighteen month waiting period in her Executive Services contract meant that if a company wanted to offer her a permanent job, they had to keep hiring her through the agency. Because no one was going to wait a year and a half before you could actually begin working. It basically meant that Executive Services stood between their temps and permanent employment.
Sarkany had simply bought his way out of this clause with his huge bonus. She was his employee now. Sort of. Executive Services would pay her wages for six weeks. At the end of that time, Sarkany would give them both checks for one hundred and fifty thousand. If he kept her on, he paid her the total hourly amount that Executive received for her services when she temped. Both her percentage and theirs. Nice.
If it happened. Presumably, his PA would come back from mat leave and she would be out of a job. But in the meantime, except for the leering, and the awkward meal time conversation, this was a cushy situation. All she had to do was do her job and enjoy her first exposure to living in the lap of luxury.
She was going to open her French doors to the island air and let the sound of the sea soothe her to sleep. If Sarkany wanted to waste the best part of the day asleep, that was fine by her. In the morning, she could rise with the sun or earlier and go swimming in the cool of dawn before the sun was too strong for her fair skin.
But right now that gigantic bed that someone had turned down for her looked very appealing. She looked around for the mountain of throw cushions that had been removed. But there was no sign of them. There were four sleeping pillows covered in crisp cream colored cotton, but that was all she could see.
Curious, Leah opened all the louvered closet doors until she found the bedding. On shelves obviously kept for that purpose, the silk coverlet was neatly folded and the cushions stood on their ends in serried rows. She giggled. The rich were certainly different. And she guessed that whoever was responsible for preparing her bed was happy to stack and unstack cushions if that was what she was paid for.
She found her cotton nightie in the drawers in one of the closets. Like all of her clothes, it was new. She had spent every penny of Sarkany's clothing allowance. It had felt good to have all that money just to buy apparel. She had played fair and had bought only clothes to wear on the island, even though it would have been lovely to purchase some suits that fit her better and weren't made of polyester.
She had new panties for the first time in years. Pinching pennies meant she had hung on to her old underthings long past their best before dates. No more stretched out elastic, or thin spots, or outright holes. Instead she had a drawer full of the softest, silkiest, prettiest things. She had even gone to her bra shop and let them up-sell her. It had been a long time since she had owned lingerie as beautiful as the things in this drawer.
The cotton nightgowns had been a whim. She could have just worn her usual oversized tee-shirts—who was going to see her after all? But the pale pastels had caught her eye and when her saleswoman had pointed out the gentle support offered by the bodice, she had succumbed to temptation. Big breasts could be uncomfortable if they were allowed to flop about. And after all Sarkany had given her a huge allowance.
The mirror informed her that the translucent fabric provided just enough structure to hold her girls high without binding. No wonder those nighties were so pricey. Worth every penny she thought admiring her figure through the sheer pink fabric. Thank goodness she had bought a simple kimono as well. She wouldn't feel comfortable flashing even the maid in this outfit.
She turned out all but the bedside lamp and opened the California shutters and the exterior door and pulled the screen door into place to exclude the bugs. Lying in bed, she could see a slice of stars and the moon. Moonlight reflected off the water and sparkled on her ceiling. Lulled by the ocean, she fell asleep.
CHAPTER SEVEN
She was deeply asleep. It must be her unblemished conscience, Hugo thought sardonically as he looked at his lovely PA lying in the moonlight. Her braided hair had left a halo of tiny curls around her face and her luscious curves were partially revealed by the thin sheet that covered her. She made his mouth water.
Hugo breathed in. Leah smelled of innocence and yet she aroused him as his more sophisticated bedmates had never done. But it was too soon. Besides the need to fly was upon him. The warm night air called to him. Lust fought with his need to soar.
Leah was asleep, but he needed assurance that she would not wake and glimpse him through her open windows. He bent over her and ignored her delicate fragrance. Softly he breathed over her face and deepened her slumber even more. She would not wake from this trance for many hours. He left her room and returned to his own wing.
Hugo stripped to his skin before he left his bedroom. He walked out past his patio, onto the broad, incongruous swathe of lawn that his gardeners found so difficult to maintain, and which he refused to permit them to break up with trees or flowers. He took dragon slowly as suited his mood. He had so few opportunities to turn he wanted to savor every moment.
His head morphed and his ears became leathery and pricked. His hearing became even more acute. His jaw lengthened and his nostrils expanded. His long, jade-green snout took form. Glittering black horns emerged above his eye ridges. Long curved teeth filled his broad jaws. His gape was immense and every breath was now red hot and he had to be careful not to singe the grass.
He let his scaly, iridescent tail grow until the deadly poisoned dart at the tip dragged on the grass ten feet beyond his crouching body. His arms and legs became the heavily muscled, armor plated limbs of a dragon. Black talons as long and sharp as obsidian daggers extended from his sixteen jade-green digits.
Lastly he let his spine morph until a raz
or sharp ridge of broad blades divided the jewel-toned scales of his sinuous back and tail. His pale green underbelly was leathery, less hard than his scales. So were the pads of his four feet. He inhaled deeply and felt his lungs expand and the very bones of his body fill with air.
He leapt upward, pushing off with his tail and hind legs. As he rose into the air he unfurled his great wings. Palest green, and almost transparent, they were leathery in texture but as invulnerable as diamonds. He flapped gently and rose higher.
When he was flying over the night dark waves, he exhaled fully and permitted fire, brimstone and smoke to issue from his throat in a cathartic blast. He allowed himself one resounding bellow that lashed the air with fire and thunder. Restored, he began to patrol the skies above his domain.
His leathery wings angled against the up rushing drafts, Hugo circled his island reveling in the warm air, until the first pale gleams of light at the horizon heralded the sunrise. Then he folded his great wings against his shimmering torso and plunged his huge jeweled body headfirst into the dark waters of the ocean. He began to swim to shore. As the staff helicopter made its noisy approach, he swiftly took his human form.
The day crew were quite used to the sight of their nude employer rising dripping from his private swimming bay. Miss Iris, the first shift cook, hustled her minions into action so that when Mr. Hugo rang for coffee it would be ready.
* * *
It was long past noon when Leah awoke in a panic. Her elegant room was stifling hot and humid. How had she slept so long? She was always up with the birds. And now she was late for work and still had to shower and dress. She felt groggy and dull—probably from too much sleep. Hot air blasted through the French doors she had left open the night before.
There was a knock on the door and it opened to admit a different maid. “Good mawning, miss,” said the slender black woman who came in. “I's Dulcie. Mr. Hugo he say you come work after you eat yo breakfas'.” She put the tray she was carrying on a table and poured Leah a cup of coffee.
“Cream, miss?” she asked.
“Yes, please. No sugar. Thank you.” Leah smiled gratefully. “Where is breakfast?”
“On Mr. Hugo's patio,” Dulcie said. “Can I run you a bath, miss?” she asked hopefully.
Leah was tempted. Already she was perspiring. But she shook her head. “No thanks. I'll just shower and be ready in ten minutes. Uh. Is Mr. Sarkany eating already?”
“Oh, no. Mr. Hugo he was swimming early, early when we come to work. He have his breakfas' long time now.” She beamed at Leah's bewildered face. Clucking her tongue in disapproval, she went over to the doors and closed them tightly and replaced the shutters.
“It get hot, hot, if you let the sun come in,” Dulcie said. “I turn up the air condition and if you get cold, you turn it down.” Like all the servants Leah had met she used her island dialect proudly.
It was all extremely odd, Leah thought. She had slept so long. And she had had such strange half-remembered dreams. She had dreamed that she was visited by a dragon. Or maybe seen one flying. But then dreams hardly ever made any sense. She rushed through her morning duties and bustled out to the patio.
Being late was no way to earn her bonus.
* * *
Perhaps he had overdone his spell, Hugo thought, looking at Leah's sleepy, stupefied face. She seemed to be a little groggy this morning and it was almost one. He hadn't seen his efficient Miss St. George heavy eyed and lethargic before.
She was wearing new clothes. He could smell the faint tang of the factory in the crisp navy and white blouse she was wearing with her navy skirt. She looked neat and fresh, much more casual than she had ever been at Sarkany Industries, but hardly dressed for a holiday. He had confidently expected her to use his money to buy herself trendy beach wear that showed some skin.
At least she had left off her stockings, he noted with approval. Just smooth, bare, soft, peachy skin and a pair of red canvas ballet flats. No sandals for Miss Working Girl. Her pearl earrings glimmered at her ears beneath a soft bun that failed to subdue the curl of her blonde hair. She had loosened up a tiny bit, but clearly intended to keep up her standards. He'd have to work on lowering them.
“I'm so sorry,” she said in her soft drawl. “I overslept. I should have set my alarm. I won't be but a minute if you want to get to work.”
Hugo laughed. “I had to take the tour of the gardens with the landscapers, this morning. They've been repairing the sea wall and they wanted me to inspect their work.” He sounded relaxed and happy.
“Your grounds are beautiful,” she assured him. “It must take a lot of work to have every bit of lawn trimmed and tidy all at once. I'm sure everything grows at a furious rate in this humidity.”
“Hmm. The gardeners do a good job. They reminded me of why I have a house here. I'm going to take the day off,” he informed her. “When you're finished, we'll go swimming.” Even Leah would have to take her shoes off to swim. He had become obsessed with seeing her toes.
* * *
He might have known that Leah St. George would have a modest bathing suit. When she removed her white cover up, she revealed a simple blue and black tank. The high neck covered her rack completely and left only the edges of her collar bones on view. The scoop at the back came up to her shoulder blades, exposing a mere half ellipsis of silky skin.
The sapphire blue print of the bodice petered out at her waist and solid black encircled her womanly hips and butt. And of course his Leah didn't have high cut leg openings. Her long legs looked curvy and alluring enough without needing to reveal her backside to lengthen them. She was altogether delectable.
She had put on a pair of blue thongs with little stars decorating the straps. They should have looked silly, but they made his day. Her toenails were tidy splashes of dark turquoise. She had lovely feet, strong and muscular with high arches. Very sexy.
She had braided her hair again, and tucked it under a broad brimmed straw hat. Her earrings were gone. Without them her ears looked tender and pink and succulent. She was making him crazy. First toes, now earlobes.
“Do you have on sunblock?” he asked. His voice came out gravelly.
“Yes, sir,” she said. “Dulcie helped me. But I still have to be careful not to stay out too long at this time of day.”
He nodded. A sunburn would interfere with his plans for seduction. Because it was plain that it would have to be seduction. This one seemed not the least inclined to vamp him. It made a pleasant but frustrating change.
“Swim parallel to the shore,” he told her. “There's a brutal riptide that starts where that line of buoys begins.” He pointed about fifty yards from shore where a series of large red and white capsules bobbed.
“Will do.” She gave him a shy smile and took off her thongs and walked down to the water. Her buttocks bounced enticingly and he followed her without thinking, only pausing at the water's edge to strip off his tiny, black bathing briefs.
Leah had been on the swim team all through junior and high school. She loved to swim. Soon she was shaking off her unaccustomed lethargy and cutting briskly through the warm water. It wasn't very deep but it was crystal clear.
Below her she could see stony areas peeking through white sand. Inch long fish flickered around these rough patches. Tiny sea urchins and miniature starfish clung to the rocks. She stopped to look, keeping herself afloat with practiced flutters of her arms.
“We'll go snorkeling around the reef, the first day the water's calm enough,” Hugo's voice said by her ear.
He was rewarded with a smile that lit Leah's sapphire eyes and exposed her dimples. “I'd love that!” She took off in an expert crawl, picking up speed effortlessly and using the line of floats to keep herself thirty feet from the shore.
It had been months since she had been able to go swimming and her muscles were enjoying this. Not since before Grammy had her stroke, had she been able to go to the public pool. She had had no time, and no one to leave Grammy with for so long. Th
e VA nurses had been diligent and kind, but they never stayed long enough.
The respite workers had come twice a week. She had used their visits to do the grocery shopping and run errands. Taking off to go swimming hadn't even seemed possible, even though that was what they were supposed to be for.
The trouble was that there was an underlying assumption that there was more than one caregiver who would be spelling each other, so respite time could be used for leisure. But Grammy had had only her one granddaughter to do everything. Her few remaining friends were too frail themselves to be left in charge of an invalid when they visited.
Leah swam until the rhythmic movement calmed her racing pulses. Hugo Sarkany in his clothes was bad enough. Bare chested and bare legged, wearing only a minuscule pair of swim briefs, he was six foot eight of raw sex appeal. One glimpse of him had started her pulse racing and her pussy throbbing.
His broad tanned chest and arms were muscular, and as smooth and golden as if he were made of oiled metal instead of flesh and bone. He didn't have a swimmer's loose and floppy muscles—he looked hard and buff and sleek. His wide shoulders tapered down to a trim, glossy six-pack.
He didn't even have a happy trail. His bronzed legs were barely dusted with dark curls, so maybe he was naturally hairless. But probably he was one of those foolish fellows who had a date with the waxing salon every week. She had read about such things. Maybe he was even dumb enough to have his balls done as well as his chest. Now that would be a sight to see.
Her composure was somewhat restored by the hilarious image of Hugo submitting to this painful process, Leah settled into a comfortable pace. She was unaware of Hugo's golden eyes tracking her powerful frame as it cut through the blue-green water, her kicking barely breaking the surface of the sea, her buttocks flexing with every stroke.
Dragon's Treasure (BBW/Dragon Shifter Romance) (Lords of the Dragon Islands Book 1) Page 5
