The Burlington Manor Affair

by Saskia Walker

She stared up at him, her eyes large and luminous in the morning light, panic and mistrust growing in her expression. “I don’t know why.”

  Her glance fell to his hand on her wrist and he saw her mood altering immediately. He tightened his grip.

  Sexual tension shot high between them.

  “But you like it?” His cock was hardening. Silently he cursed it. He had to know the truth.

  “I told you. I don’t know why.”

  The fear he saw in her eyes hit him hard. It was different. When she offered herself, she wasn’t afraid; she was resentful but she was willing. That look on her face tore him apart. Did this mean that the submissive side of her was her nature, and not a role-play? Will I ever really know? The woman was an enigma, and just when he thought they were getting closer, she clammed up good and proper.

  What shocked him most of all was the fear. Why was she afraid to be honest about it? Did she think he would tease her, was that it?

  “Rex, please, don’t.”

  The sound of her whispering his name so breathlessly, so afraid, made him want to protect her, above all else.

  “You do it because it makes it easier,” he stated.

  Silence. Then she nodded, gratefully.

  He’d said it to break the tension, and it had. Somewhat. Yet his nerves felt tauter than ever. Carmen was the important thing here, not his base reactions. He didn’t want her to be uncomfortable around him. They’d done enough of that over the years. Far too much, in fact.

  She didn’t respond, but when she met his gaze there was a silent plea for understanding in her expression.

  “I’m sorry.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “I adore you that way. What man wouldn’t—”

  “You’re not just any man,” she interrupted.

  He stared at her, surprised by her comment, but instantly needing more explanation than that.

  “Oh, bloody hell, Rex. Do I have to spell it out for you?”

  “I’m sorry, but apparently you do.”

  She meshed her hands, fingers twisting together as she spoke. “I haven’t been like this before...not with anyone else.”

  “I don’t understand.” It was the honest to God truth. He didn’t get it.

  “It’s just you. I don’t know why. Maybe because I’d wanted you for so long. It just happened, and when it did, it felt right that you...mastered me.” Her face was aflame. “Fucking hell, Rex! It’s what I wanted, what I’d always wanted, deep down.”

  The information seemed unreal and he couldn’t take it in. But why would she lie? Stunned, Rex paced up and down the room and then sat down on the edge of the bed.

  He stared across at her. She seemed dreamlike to him.

  She folded her hands around her upper arms and her hair fell over her face, so that he couldn’t see her eyes.

  Instinctively Rex knew what she needed from him right then. It wasn’t rocket science, but it made him wonder. They did have a seemingly natural symbiosis in their sexuality; that was unquestionable. But he’d assumed this was the way she was, that she had an inherent desire for the kinky aspect. Had she really not behaved this way with anyone else? He’d assumed that she’d been introduced to BDSM by another man. Apparently that wasn’t the case. It also wasn’t the real problem here. It was part of the solution.

  The notion made his possessive feelings for her multiply rapidly. He put out his hand, gesturing for her to come closer. “Come to me.”

  Without hesitation, she did so.

  Stepping across the room, she paused in front of him. A moment later she lowered to her knees at his side and sat back on her heels.

  The neat, folded posture she assumed was so simple, yet it stunned him to see her that way, like an elegant geisha, her head lowered yet cocked, as if to hear his request. What a prize, what a beauty.

  He reached out and stroked her head.

  She leaned into his touch, her forehead against his knee.

  A tight, willful mood swamped him, weighing heavily on the moment. How much easier did it make sex for her? How hard would it be to balance the power, as they had in the heat of the moment last night? The questions made him want to know why she was really here, on her knees.

  Was it for him, or for Burlington Manor?

  “What if I asked something of you that you couldn’t do?”

  She looked into his eyes, openly, seemingly not afraid of that rather weighty question. The sight of her that way made him feel as if nothing else existed, except Carmen. She filled his mind, his every thought. It made him unsteady, because he was indeed possessive and greedy for her, just as she had accused him of being. But he craved clarity of meaning; he needed to understand what was happening between them, and why.

  “I would say the safe word.” Her voice faltered.

  “Say it,” he instructed. “I want to be sure you can.”

  “Boo,” she whispered.

  A quick smile flitted across her expression and then she was still, entirely focused on him, alert and poised yet palpably keen to move forward in the sexual negotiation.

  “I scarcely heard you, Carmen.”

  “I didn’t want to use the safe word, that’s why. You asked me to.”

  Rex was torn. He wanted her, wanted this to be real, not some kinky role-play session. Was she doing it because it was in her nature, or was this just her way of fulfilling the deal that he’d set out at the beginning? He was growing more frustrated. The night before he thought they’d kicked down the barriers between them. They’d come this far; they’d peeled back so much of what was holding them apart, but there was more. Here in their nakedness and the honesty, it was time to test her.

  Even if it meant he found out something he didn’t want to know.

  “I’m going to ask you to do something you might find very hard. You might even want to use the safe word.”

  The way she looked up at him when he said that made his blood pump hard. Like she wanted to be tested.

  It frustrated him, because he did want to make her cry out in orgasm, to beg for him to fuck her, to plead with him to use her in every way—and he knew she probably would. God knows he wouldn’t turn her way. That wasn’t an option. But what he wanted even more than that right now was her honesty about why they were here at all. Even if it disappointed him.

  “Are you on your knees for the keys to Burlington Manor?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “This is all just a game to you, isn’t it?”

  It hit him like a hammer blow. He thought that the night before was the most intensity he could be made to feel, until now. How did she do this to him?

  Holding it together, he pressed on. “Not at all. I’m just trying to get to the bottom of your motivation, my dear.”

  Her eyes blazed at him. “Oh, bloody hell, Rex. You set out the rules here. You made the deal.”

  He clenched his jaw, took a moment to breathe. “It’s the only reason you’re doing this, isn’t it? For the keys to Burlington Manor.”

  She squirmed, resistance pouring out of her.

  “Yes.” It was a blurted response. “Fuck it, Rex! You know this already. You’re just burning out an old flame. We both are. You’ll walk away at the end of it, but you knew how much I wanted to take this place on, and that’s why you knew I would buckle and you could toy with me for a while.”

  “I’m not toying with you.” He issued the statement from between his gritted teeth.

  Her eyes flashed, as if in denial of his words.

  That annoyed him immensely. She thought he was toying with her? She was the one who was performing. She was the one who was backing away. And more than that he was annoyed because he wanted her to need him now, not the bloody house. He rose to his feet. “Show me how much you want Burlington Manor,” he demanded.

  She
tossed her head back and her eyes closed for a moment.

  The way the light fell on her arched neck transfixed him. The pulse there beat rapidly. Was it anger, or arousal? He couldn’t be sure.

  “Why?” she asked eventually as she opened her eyes again.

  “Because I want to know. You said you’d do anything for me, for a month, for this place.”

  “I didn’t actually say that.”

  “I had your implicit agreement. I think we both know that.”

  Her lips pursed.

  “I want to know how much you want the house. Demonstrate your commitment to Burlington Manor.”

  If looks could kill, Rex knew he would be dead already.

  “It’s all right for you to say that,” she seethed, “but how in hell can I prove it to you?”

  Her attitude triggered something dark in him. Something that demanded to be fed. “Crawl.”

  Carmen’s head dropped back as if she’d been physically slapped.

  The urge to push her some more roared in on him, taking charge. He strode to the chair where his clothes lay abandoned from the night before.

  Swiping up his jeans, he fished into the pocket. He tossed the key chain out across the floor, holding on to the end of the long chain. “Get down on your hands and knees and crawl over here for it.”

  When the key landed on the Persian rug, she stared down at it. Rex jerked on the chain.

  The key flipped over on the floor between them, like bait. Like a lure.

  “Show me what you want, what you came here for,” he said.

  Carmen shook her head.

  “I want to know exactly what you wanted when you stepped through the door. The truth.”

  She stared up at him. “I can’t do this. It’s too hard!”

  “You can, because you want me to sign it over, and you agreed to do whatever I said to get it.”

  He felt her buckling. Would she use the safe word? Would this push her humiliation trigger just that bit too far? He didn’t care, as long as it got the truth out of her. He had to know. “Why are you here? What did you want? Just the property?”

  “Yes.” She dropped onto her hands and knees. Her voice was weak, forced. “It’s a fair exchange, that’s what you said.”

  The light outlined her body, drawing his eye to her curves.

  She moved suddenly, jerking forward and crawling toward the key, but she was in turmoil. He could sense it. He could see it.

  The sight of her that way made him painfully hard and yet his sense of frustration only grew. He wanted to understand this woman more than anything in the world.

  When she got to it, her hand wrapped around the key, but she stayed there, shifting uneasily. The light from the window fell across her naked form, delineating the arch of her waist and the curve of her hip. Her soft skin glowed in the morning light. In contrast, her face was shadowed by her hair as it fell forward, and she looked up at him like a wild creature, her eyes blazing.

  “Tell me why,” he demanded, and he held tight to his end of the key chain.

  Her body rippled, her back arching. Her head swung to one side. She whimpered. Taking a deep breath she moved again, gathering the chain up in her hand as she went.

  “Just the house?” he asked. “That’s all you wanted? You were that cold and mercenary?”

  She froze, then sat back on her heels. Her breathing was labored. She was battling something, fiercely.

  He pressed her further. “Why is this so hard for you to talk about?”

  “Because I’m scared.” She stared up at him, and her eyes looked wild.

  Rex swallowed. “Why are you scared?”

  Her gaze roved over him, her jaw going lax when she saw his erection.

  Sensing her giving way, he softened his tone. “Tell me why, please don’t be afraid. I won’t tease you, whatever you say.”

  Her eyes flashed shut. “Because I wanted you.” Her voice was scarcely above a whisper. “I didn’t realize how much, at first, but I came here because I’ve always wanted you.”

  Rex had been holding his breath, and his chest felt tight and restricted.

  He let go of the key chain, throwing it down on the floor, and clicked his fingers. “Then come to my side.”

  She moved fast, kneeling up at his feet, her arms wrapping around his thighs. The key and its chain lay abandoned on the floor. Rex stared down at it, assuring himself of what had occurred.

  She clung to him, and he felt damp tears against his skin. “Please don’t tease me about it.”

  Rex let his head drop back, relief barreling through him.

  Grateful, and empowered, he stroked her head possessively, admitting to himself that a month would never be enough.

  Never enough.

  He never wanted to break with this woman.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  REX NOTICED HOW different the country air was when he was out on his Sunday jog the following day. He’d risen early with the birds and was making his way around the lake. The air was so much more invigorating than back at his regular haunt, a busy park in South London. Something about it really highlighted his connection to the place. He felt more engaged. That wasn’t something he normally thought about, being very much a city man these days. Though he’d grown up here in the countryside he’d suffered what most young people did, a longing for the action of cities. He’d been happy to shelve the country life.

  As he made his way back to the house he looked up at Carmen’s window. They’d reached some sort of plateau the morning before. An impasse, perhaps. She knew he’d always wanted her, and she’d admitted—finally, and very reluctantly—that she had wanted him, as well as the house. That was part of why she’d joined him there.

  The whole thing had been emotionally exhausting, and at the end of it they’d been quieter, but closer. It was as if enough had been said about the past, for the time being.

  He couldn’t let her leave that way, though. No, before they parted and returned to London, he wanted more level ground.

  When he got to the kitchen, he chatted with Mrs. Summerfield while he waited for Carmen to appear.

  “So, tell me, what’s your opinion of the newer members of staff?” Rex was aware that Mrs. Amery would have been responsible for employing them, but Mrs. Summerfield had always been more generous with her opinions and didn’t stand on ceremony quite as much as the housekeeper.

  “Not a bad bunch. I miss the old ones who’ve gone, though. Leanne is a good girl, throws herself at things a bit too much but she’ll slow down as she gets used to it.”

  Rex nodded. “She seemed to enjoy the party.”

  Mrs. Summerfield chuckled. “She did.”

  “What about the others?”

  “The lads who help Bill seem to be reliable enough. I don’t see a lot of them because they’re only part-timers. They come up for a mug of tea midmorning, but they don’t say a lot. There’s also a chap called Jack Formby. He does a lot of odd jobs around the place but he’s not a member of staff as such. Jack runs his own business in the village but whenever it’s something that Bill doesn’t have time for Mrs. Amery will call him in. He gets paid by the hour.”

  She seemed pleased that he was asking and smiled his way as she chatted. “When you first came back, you said you didn’t know what the long-term plans for the place were. Now that you’ve had time to talk with Carmen, has that changed at all?”

  She dried her hands on a towel, and rested her hip up against the range, an action that he seemed to remember. It was something about the heat helping her arthritis, even though it was a warm day. It was odd, the sudden redemption of long-lost memories, but it kept happening while he spent time there. Little quirks about the people and the place kept coming back to him, like remembering exactly where to put
his hand in a drawer in his bedroom to find the secret compartment, without even having to look.

  “I think it’s going to take us a bit more time,” he responded. “It’s not something that can be done easily. Carmen is set on keeping the place, but I want to make sure that’s the right thing for her. It’s a big commitment for anyone to take on, on their own, and she’s got a lot of business responsibilities in London to manage, as well.”

  Rex answered without thinking it through, and yet it was how he felt. If Carmen wanted the place, so be it. She was a grown woman and she could afford to run it. However, he wanted to make sure it wasn’t simply some misguided sense of obligation on her part, and that she could cope with it. God knows it wasn’t the easiest place in the world to run. “Not much of an answer for you as yet, I’m afraid, but we both want the best for the place.”

  Mrs. Summerfield looked at him, smiled and nodded. “I’m sure you do, and that will be the outcome.” She paused. “Now, you said you’d be returning to London before dinner this evening, would you like me to prepare something special for lunch, for you and Carmen?”

  Rex noticed that she seemed satisfied with his responses. Yet he hadn’t given her a real answer. It made him wonder how much the staff were speculating, above and beyond the future of the house, but about them, the two that had inherited it. Perhaps they always had. A woman like Mrs. Summerfield had probably noticed the standing attraction between them and would be intrigued to see where it might go while they were reunited at the manor. It was like watching a live soap opera. “What do you suggest?” he asked.

  Mrs. Summerfield beamed and clutched her towel between her hands as she spoke. “Why don’t you take Carmen down to the village for a nice pub lunch? Not that I mind cooking for you. Quite the contrary. But I think she would enjoy that and I’m sure you would, too. Get away from the house for a while, be on your own without the big decisions hanging over you.”

  Intrigued by the idea, Rex nodded. “I’ll take your advice, thank you.”

  “My pleasure.”

  Why did that sound so good, getting away from the house together? Because the bloody house was a nuisance, a millstone. Originally it had been a way to get to Carmen, but now her loyalty to it was making him hate the place. She’d admitted she did want to sleep with him when she’d returned, but the house was still her biggest concern, going forward. It was as if she was in agreement with his theory about burning out the old flame when he was beginning to doubt it would ever burn out. It made him resent the estate.