by Cynthia Dane
“It’s more than great.” Zack brought the canvas closer to his eyes, careful to not smudge it with his nose. “It’s fucking fantastic. Probably your best since that painting of Versailles. Only this time there’s a naked woman on it!” As Seth wandered away to pour himself more iced tea, Zack continued, “This is that hot blonde from the Château? You sly dog.”
“It is her.” Seth did his damndest to not think about the details of yesterday, lest he start sporting an erection in his trousers. She was… divine. The more he got to know her, the more Seth realized that “divine” was probably not a word often associated with brusque and honest Judith. He couldn’t think of any other word to describe her. Beautiful no longer had any meaning. Exquisite made her sound like a fancy French dish. No, she was more than beautiful, more relatable than French cuisine. Hearing her life story fit her aura so much that Seth could only think of capturing her essence on the canvas.
When he walked into the Château the day before, he had not considered sex with her. Then she had become too perfect to resist. Everything about her was perfect. The way she felt beneath his body. The way she moaned… not fake at all. The way she writhed when she climaxed with him. That didn’t even touch the way she physically felt on the other end of his cock. That couldn’t even be described in a mortal’s words. She makes me want to be a poet. Muses were dangerous.
“Now, I know she doesn’t look like she had sex because you did her. Either she’s the biggest pro in the universe, or she had done some other seedless sod before you got there.” Zack’s grin was too stupid to bear. “You have to pay extra to get her after a guy?”
Seth didn’t deign that with an answer. As an artist, he had wanted to capture everything he saw on Judith after fucking her, but as a man he refrained from adding the white of his seed to her thighs and nether lips. He did not, however, hold back on the dark blond hairs down there. Perfectly groomed. Perfectly womanly.
He couldn’t stand to think about it.
“Your agent is going to love this, Seth.” He probably wasn’t aware of his actions, but Zack’s finger hovered over the lighting of the window as it poured over Judith’s flawless skin. “I’m serious. You need to call her up right now and tell her your next collection is all nudes.”
“I’ve been thinking about it. Doing a collection, that is.” Five-hundred portraits of Judith everywhere he could put her. Not just on her bed. In a chair by the window, out in the garden, in his home. Now he had to stop thinking about that before things got too wild in his head. At the end of the day, Judith was not a normal girlfriend, no matter how much she played up a fantasy when they were together.
Zack grinned. “You should do that Grace girl next. She had an ass to die for.” He cleared his throat. “I would know… saw it.”
“Did it, I’m sure.”
“To be sure.”
Seth sat down next to his friend. “I don’t want to do the others. If they’ll let me, I’ll do a collection based around Judith.”
The smile fell off Zack’s face. “Now I’m worried about you. All fun and games when we’re talking about all the ladies. You obsessing over one? Eh.”
“I think she might be my muse.”
“Now hold on.” Zack clapped his hand on his friend’s shoulder. While Zack was not the kind of guy who was afraid to show affection to other men, least of all close comrades like Seth, he understood how uncomfortable it made some men… like close comrade Seth. I’m not a touchy-feely guy, even if I am an artist. It was what made being a doctor so easy. While he felt for his patients, he was able to emotionally distance himself from them all. Made certain decisions easier to handle. While nobody ever died on his watch, there were times he had to make last minute decisions in the delivery room that made novice obstetricians cry… like doing a last minute cesarean because otherwise both mother and baby would die. At his level of clientele, though, the mothers weren’t always so understanding of the scars they were left with. Didn’t Dr. Christens know that they had to go back to modelling? That people were waiting to see what bikini fashion they would sport at the wharf next summer? What were they supposed to do with this. Some thanked him for doing the right thing, but others acted as if they would’ve rather died.
One of many reasons he had to retire.
“Hey, listen to me.” Zack snapped his fingers, getting his friend’s attention. “Watch yourself. Don’t get emotionally involved with a woman like that. That’s a quick road to heartbreak, friend.”
“Would you know?” Seth asked dryly. “Anyway, it’s not like that.”
“You fucked her though, right?”
“Why do you keep asking me that?” They were beyond guy talk now. That wasn’t mirth in Zack’s eye. Don’t act so concerned for me. Like Zack had any room to talk. “If I had, don’t you think I would’ve told you? I’ve got nothing to hide.”
So why was he lying?
Zack gave him one last hard look before turning away. “You fucked her.” He pointed to the picture. “There’s more than one meaning to ‘that’s your work,’ and I’m looking right at it. You didn’t just bang her. You did the impossible, which is taking a woman like her to heaven.”
Seth steadied his breathing but felt his cheeks heat up. They better not have turned red. “So what of it? You screwed the other one.”
“That’s different. That was sex. She might influence some of my work for a while, but it won’t go beyond that. This is mixing work and pleasure here.” He kept jabbing his finger toward the canvas. “Don’t get too attached. Her job is to seduce you and bleed your wallet dry. How much you get charged? I’ll tell you right now, my credit card statement says I owe them an extra ten grand after our visit.”
Only that much? Aside from the modeling charge, Seth was looking at more than that. The Château charged him for the sex. Before he left, Judith urged him to write a personal check to cover her charges that didn’t go through the madam. Particularly the bareback and what happened as a result of it. Altogether it was at least fifteen thousand.
“I can take care of myself, thanks.” Seth got up and took the painting from Zack’s possession. “Besides, don’t you think a collection based around one woman is more powerful than many women? Feels more intimate.”
“Yeah, sure. Intimate.”
Zack didn’t stay much longer. When he left, it was with a final word of advice. Something about Seth needing to look for a real girlfriend while he did what he had to for the sake of his art on the side. The man sounded like he had never fallen in love with a muse before. Maybe he hadn’t. Maybe Seth was too old-fashioned like that.
As soon as Zack had left, Seth picked up his cell phone and perused his contacts for a certain number. “Hello, Joy?” he said when his agent picked up. “I’m working on a new collection and finished the first piece. I think you’re going to like the direction I’m heading in. Can you come over?”
Chapter 9
MIGUEL
A raucous party was the big thing going on the night Miguel returned to the Château. After giving Aimee the whole weekend off to check out the sights of the city, he hopped into his Vanquish Volante and began the long, albeit scenic, drive up into the mountains.
Good thing I scheduled an appointment. He had a feeling that Saturday was the biggest night at the Château, and if everyone knew as well as he did that Judith was a divine goddess at her profession, then she would be in high demand. Felt like a miracle he had managed to schedule her for the whole evening before anyone else did.
“Mr. Bolivar!” the doorman announced. How anyone heard him over the crazy laughter echoing from upstairs, Miguel had no idea. Yet before he could count to five, Judith was at the top of the grand staircase, dressed in a soft pink Chanel sweater dress – with every button going down to the waist undone. A woman of her chest size had no problems filling out the bust enough to make the fabric drape elegantly over her generous cleavage.
“Welcome back,” she said with a smile that further said, “And br
inging all your assets with you.” “Let me take your coat.”
Miguel already had his coat half off when Judith put her hands on him. She had the lightest touch of any woman he met. That was not to say she was gentle. Indeed, Judith knew how to respect his personal space while still making her own presence known. I tucked well enough when I dressed for this occasion, right? While Miguel did not doubt that most of the men around there sported an erection every five minutes, he was not inclined to join.
“Seems like a busy evening.” Miguel nodded to a pair of drunk men stumbling from one room to another. The redhead Holly followed after them, wearing nothing but a thong and a glittery gold chain around her naked breasts. Judith looked like her elegant mother in comparison. My preference.
“The weekends tend to be rather rambunctious.” Judith folded his coat over her arm and flagged down a maid. “See to it that Mr. Bolivar’s items are well taken care of.” When she received confirmation, the maid took off, carrying the large coat. The usual coat closet must have been stuffed already. “No worries. You have me all to yourself, as was arranged.”
“By your madam.” Miguel was used to making appointments, but calling the Château and getting Monica right away was an… experience. She couldn’t mask the glee in her voice that he was already coming back to stick it in one of her employees again.
Judith tossed her long hair behind her shoulder. Thick gold bangles clattered on her wrist. The real deal. Presents from other men? Who knew. I should bring her a present next time. He already had something in his inside pocket, which he pulled out now. Simple, but effective. “Is that for me?” she asked.
He handed her the red rose, freshly picked up from the florist on the corner of his street back in the city. “Yes. Forgive me for something so simple. I don’t know you well enough to gauge your tastes quite yet.”
She grinned, snatching the thorny stem from his hand. “I love roses. You know, a girl loves jewelry and lingerie and all that, but flowers feel a lot more personal. Thank you.”
“They’re also temporary,” he said, hands in pockets as he walked with her through the main hall. Judith began her ascent up the grand staircase, and Miguel followed, only one step behind. Are we going to her room already? Things must have been really busy to have no room to hang out elsewhere. He wanted to have a casual chat before getting down to business.
Why? He supposed it had to do with a lack of companionship since his move. Like Aimee, Miguel hadn’t much chance to get to know people outside of business. Judith was as good as anyone when it came to socializing… and other things.
“Sometimes temporary is best,” Judith agreed, taking her time up the stairs. Her ass swayed with every movement, the cashmere material of her sweater dress hugging her curves. “I get a lot of trinkets, Mr. Bolivar. Some of them I enjoy, but most of them go into boxes and take up space. Flowers are beautiful and don’t accumulate. You throw them out when they’re done.”
She said it so dreamily, and yet her words stung. “They’re also a lot cheaper than a diamond tennis bracelet. Which I’m sure you have plenty of.” He nodded to her bangles.
“These things?” Judith waited for him at the top of the stairs, holding up her hand so the chandelier reflected off gold and jade. “These are from my patron. He knows my tastes well.”
“Ah…” Monica had said something about the Château’s patron system. Miguel had heard of it elsewhere, but he never thought much about it. Being a woman’s patron wouldn’t be so bad. Throw money at her so she could live comfortably and then have her whenever he wanted. Appointments still necessary, because this was an organized business, but no other man could have her without his say so. Maybe that’s too much power for a woman who isn’t my girlfriend. “He’s a lucky man, your patron.”
Judith leaned against the railing, rose petals touching the sides of her breasts. She was so enticing that Miguel had to ball his hands into fists to keep from touching her before he was ready. “He’s also a rich man,” she said with a sigh. “I’m expensive to keep, you know.”
“I’m sure. You know your worth, Judith.”
“Indeed I do.” Her grin was more flirtatious than serious. I love her smile. It was always so genuine, and when she did employ a fake smile, there was still humor behind it. Truly, a woman who loved what she did, or at least knew how to make it work for her. “My retainer is the highest here at the Château.”
“I’m sure it is.” Miguel thought about asking how much it was. A million a year was more than worth it. He suspected it was actually higher than that. A woman making that much money… she could retire whenever she wants. So why hadn’t she? Miguel didn’t know of many women who thought of this career as anything but temporary, no matter how much they liked it.
“So!” The way she changed subjects was as natural as those breasts taunting him in her sweater dress. Bras truly were a waste on her. “Where shall we go, Miguel? I’m afraid the best rooms are already reserved tonight.” She looked across the hall. “Balcony? It’s a nice night, and it should be quiet. Do you want a drink?”
He asked for a scotch and for her to get whatever she wanted, on his tab. She got herself a scotch as well, and joined him on the main balcony overlooking the rear grounds of the Château.
“You’re right. It is nice out here.” A spring night usually meant cold, but that day had been so warm that the night wasn’t too bad yet. It helped that there was no breeze, and everything was as still as the voices between them. One other pair occupied the large balcony with them: a young woman in a black dress and a half-intoxicated businessman playing with a telescope. Every time the woman squealed in excitement, the man laughed. They seemed to have a buoyant relationship. “We’re not the only ones who think so.”
“That’s Yvette and her patron. She’s really into astronomy and astrology. Tell her your birthday and she’ll give you the 411 on who you are. Unless you’re a Cancer. Then she won’t talk to you.”
“Let me guess…” Miguel sampled his drink. “You’re a Cancer?”
Her grin grew. “No. You?”
“I think I’m a Leo. Or a Virgo. I was born in August, either way.” He shrugged. “Never took much stock in it.”
“We all have our hobbies.”
“What are yours?”
“I should be asking you that.”
“I asked first.”
Judith gazed at the large maze growing in the backyard. Carefully groomed hedges created walls taller than a man, and even in the dark, Miguel could see stone benches and tiny fountains in this corner and that dead end. The center hosted the largest fountain at the Château. The whole thing was devoid of life, save for perhaps a few insects. Sconces provided illumination, but most of the light came from the full moon above them. No wonder the lovebirds on the other side of the balcony were playing with a telescope. The night sky hadn’t been this clear in a while.
“I like to read. I suppose that’s what everyone says.”
“Just reading?”
“I like traveling and shopping and all that. Not much opportunity for that up here, though.”
“You don’t get to leave?”
Judith laughed. “We can leave whenever we want as long as we don’t have work to do, but we’re so far removed from civilization and none of us have a car. We rely on our patrons taking us out or Monica letting us borrow a car. Anyway… my only other real hobby is sex.” Her eyes were cool in his direction.
“So happens that’s one of mine as well.”
“And?”
Miguel mused that over. “I’m a hobby yachtsman. Thinking about purchasing a vessel.”
“A refined man of the sea. Do you do much of that in Monaco?”
“Of course. It’s a way of life there. You can’t buy a condo or an apartment without a view of the marina. It’s not worth it.”
Judith gestured to the maze beneath them. “Let’s go for a walk down there. Tell me all about Monaco. I’ve never known someone from there before.”
<
br /> They put their glasses away before taking a small staircase down to the grounds. Judith did not touch him as she led him to the entrance of the maze, but she did assure him that she knew it inside and out and would not lead him astray. Apparently, every girl spent considerable amount of time in the hedge maze in the pursuit of peace and quiet.
Miguel didn’t often get to talk about his homeland. In Europe, everyone he conversed with either knew Monaco intimately or had been there enough times to not need his insider’s opinion on it. Americans didn’t give a shit unless he was talking about Monte Carlo, and then they wanted tales of disastrous gambling. Occasionally a man or woman asked about the sailing and shopping, but for the most part, they couldn’t be assed to hear about the culture, the language, how did people speak and act as compared to neighbors France and Italy. Such people either didn’t care or were ignorant enough to think it was all the same thing.
“You ever see Grace Kelly?” It was such an American thing to ask, but it made Miguel laugh as they turned the first corner in the maze.
“She was before my time,” he said. “I’ve had dinner with various members of royalty many times, though.”
“Really?” Her shock was real, and palpable.
“Yes, really. You have to understand that it’s a way of life in Monaco. It’s a small country, and, quite frankly, contains very rich families. We may not be on the same level as royalty, but we have many connections from every corner.”
“And no taxes.”
“There’s that, too.” Miguel grinned. “Although I have properties all over Europe and now in America, so I do pay a good share of taxes to other countries.”
“Good citizen.” Judith dragged her rose along a hedge, one petal falling to the stonework beneath them. “Think of all the schools and roads your money goes toward.”
