Master's Maids: Complete Series Bundle

by Ruby Madden

  Instead, they waited in mutual, polite silence. The Cardiff jet was due in for landing anytime now.

  Sebastian fidgeted a bit, peering back and forth at his iPad and smartphone, occasionally glancing up to see if there was any sight of the family jet yet. Thankfully, his smartphone pinged, a courteous text sent by the attendant indicating that Celeste was about to arrive. Along with it, came a progress report.

  Sir, she seems both dreadfully nervous and excited. She attempted to read several times but it seemed she couldn’t focus? She’s had three cocktails now, so is a bit more relaxed than when we departed. She’s a delight, sir – if I may say so. Very pleasant. Quite lovely.

  A charmed smile crept on Sebastian’s face. It was noticed by the driver, who then smiled ever-so-slightly, his curiosity now peeked as to who would be exiting the Cardiff family jet.

  They both heard the jet coming in to land, both of their eye’s following the private plane’s descent onto the runway. Eventually, the jet found its appointed place and finally, after the hustle and bustle of securing a safe exit for the guest, a petite and feminine frame with long, brown tresses descended from the plane and down the stairs.

  Sebastian signaled to Charlie and soon, his driver was escorting her from the plane to Bentley, while carrying her baggage. Charlie opened the door for Celeste and graciously escorted her into the vintage vehicle. For the minute when the driver closes a passenger door and quickly makes their way to the driver’s side, there is an opportunity to engage another with some modicum of true privacy.

  As soon as she sat down, she peered nervously up at Sebastian, a hesitant but sweet and sincere smile on her face. She waited, somewhat breathless for him to acknowledge her. He noted the slight tremble in her hands and the nervous swallow she made. His eyes met hers and in an instant, he toppled into her world. Claimed.

  It was like peering into the dark, creamy, brown eyes of a beautiful doe. Warm, sincere, deep and kind. Timid but bold.

  Surprised by his own physical response to her, he spoke. “Welcome Celeste. I hope it was a good flight?” He asked.

  She nodded, looking shyly away. “Yes, as good as can be for someone who’s never flown before, sir. It was quite comfortable. Thank you.”

  He noted a slightly darker and pinker color rise to the surface of her face. She was becoming flushed. Embarrassed. Even just a tiny bit of his attention and she was already blooming in his presence, under the penetrative weight of his masculine gaze. It was mesmerizing. Breathtaking, but he dared not let her know just yet the powerful sway she already had on him.

  “Good. As it should be. We have about a forty minute drive ahead of us, so please do get comfortable. We’ll wait until you’ve had the chance to get settled and some rest before I discuss any particulars. Fair?”

  Celeste nodded, “Of course. Whatever you think is best, sir.” She said, folding and then settling her hands into her lap. She crossed her ankles and tucked her legs under her. Her long hair slid down and framed her face.

  He noticed the striking beauty of her profile, studying it momentarily. He’d been observing it frequently via surveillance when she spent time in his library and he hadn’t grown tired of looking at her. Her features were delicate, balanced and elegant.

  And the best thing about it all.

  She was completely oblivious to herself and her beguiling nature. As their drive commenced, he snuck glances at her, and also noticed his driver taking in the sight of her on occasion. Quick and unobtrusively.

  Sebastian imagined asking her to lift up her skirt and to drape herself over his knew. Immediately, he knew he’d made a mistake – his manhood leaping to attention.

  Now was not the time!

  Ultimately, she was his employee and when it came right down to it, that was part of her primary job, but his contracts were very clear – the one-on-one contact didn’t ever occur in the presence of other paid staff. Only other maids. He couldn’t very well break his own rules. Especially since this was the first time they’d actually met. Person to person.

  He strained with the intense desire he felt for her, the eagerness to lay claim to someone new, someone so innocent. Thankful for years of practice in self-restraint, his Alpha nature eager to lay claim to her.

  And for the first time, in a long, time, if ever – he felt something new. His lust was mingled with a tenderness. A type of adoration that set itself apart from just sexual desire and erotic admiration. As if entwined and entangled, he could feel her presence emanating next to him. As if an exquisitely beautiful butterfly had appeared and settled into the backseat of the Bentley.

  Sebastian realized he was holding his breath, and finally exhaled. Slowly.

  Who was this creature? And why was it she had such a profound impact on him, in her presence?

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  I was hyper-aware of Master Cardiff. Sir Sebastian. Earl. At this point, I had no idea how to refer to him. I wanted to clarify but still felt too meek to ask. It was simply too soon. We’d just met.

  I was energized and tired, all at the same time. Somehow, I was containing the nervous excitement inside me about finally meeting him. Let alone, the experience of flying for the first time, in a private jet, no less. Being in a foreign country, clear on the other side of the Atlantic. To where I was now, sitting in a chauffeur-driven, vintage Bentley on the way to his family’s estate.

  For whatever reason, I was inclined to keep my eyes down and I stared at my crossed hands, my fingers that trembled ever so slightly. When I did look up, it felt as if I’d been looked at.

  By both him and the chauffeur? Yes, both of them…

  When we arrived, I was quickly whisked away to my room after a brief introduction to some of the estate staff. Although I wanted to see more of the estate, secretly – I was grateful. An introvert, I needed a bit less attention and was glad for the reprieve to just gather my bearings and rest.

  I quickly peeled off my clothes and put on yoga pants, a form-fitting tank, a pair of cozy socks and a cashmere cardigan that Carmen had stuffed in my luggage. Tired but running on a day-long adrenaline high, I flopped down into a chaise lounge that afforded me a gorgeous view of the estate’s garden and a lake in the distance. If I could, I’d find some time to explore the property.

  I pulled out one of my books and managed to settle my mind enough to escape into it. My thoughts bounced around, pulled into my story and then back to my own life – in its hard to believe current state. I was in disbelief. Very much feeling a bit like a princess in a kinky fairytale of sorts.

  I mean, I was sitting in a castle. Practically. Nearly. As far as I could tell.

  Definitely, a castle by my standards.

  As I read, my thoughts flickered back to the few quick glances of his handsome face and profile I’d managed to grab and store away in my memory. The one thing that struck me was that he looked familiar. Not because of his portraits back in the U.S. estate, but just – familiar. It’s a curious thing to feel as if you know someone before you’ve even ever met them? That is how it felt when I was finally in his presence.

  Like I already knew him? But how was that possible? What did it mean?

  Jet-lag finally got to me and before I knew it, I was out cold. Sound asleep.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  Celeste looked amazing. Sebastian knew it was inappropriate to steal glances of her, standing dutifully by his side, posing as his pseudo-girlfriend at his mother’s funereal – but he couldn’t help himself.

  Quiet. Demure. Elegant.

  She calmed him. He couldn’t explain why, but he’d noticed it on the ride from the airport, at the Manor and again on the way to the funeral, in the Bentley. Although they’d barely spoken with one another and even less time had been spent with her, he noticed this effect that she had on him.

  Just as he’d requested, Celeste allowed herself to be dressed by his stylist and was chic, yet somber in her funeral attire. The more conservative and traditional
fashion of the UK was quite flattering on her, and pronounced her femininity. Something he appreciated.

  Puzzled and intrigued, despite the immensely inappropriate timing, he couldn’t help himself but to constantly sneak peeks of her.

  He knew that those who were present for the service would simply assume it was a grieving man seeking comfort from the woman who stood by his side, his girlfriend. What they might never know was that said woman was really just a paid employee posing to be his significant other of the moment. That the very reason he’d selected her, was due to her less-than-exotic looks, unlike the rest of his maids.

  The funeral proceeded with masses of proper, wealthy, upper-class, dour Brits all extending their condolences. He assumed the role of the grieving son and heir, a stoic and sad look perpetually on his face. It’s not that he had to pretend, he was indeed sad for his mother’s passing – but rather that he was such a private man that grieving in public, would never be his mode. He was too controlled and too reserved in the presence of the public eye.

  Once the precession was over, the funeral service done, her casket lowered and mourners in attendance had meandered back to their lives after passing pleasantries his way, he’d wrapped his arm possessively around Celeste’s waist to guide her back to the waiting Bentley. Charlie stood dutifully by, ever-present to be in service to his new Master. When he’d closed the door behind them, Charlie furtively looked at Sebastian with a touch of sympathy.

  He was so far removed in his thoughts, heart and mind. He’d hung and clung to Celeste like a life-vest of sorts. As if she was his anchor to the living world, the real life he needed to return to, the only thing he was tethered to that was of flesh and bone.

  She’d glanced up at him a few times, her doe eyes kind and earnest in seeking to know if he was okay. She never uttered a word. Just penetrative glances that bared him to her.

  He loathed it. He welcomed it. He was surrendering to her…

  One bloody inch at a time.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  The funeral service for Sir’s mother had gone as well as could be expected. I was so completely out of my element that I’d gone completely mute. I just kept myself still, quiet and nearby, praying inwardly that I was somehow successful in playing the part and appearance of his current girlfriend.

  It must have worked as I noticed that he kept glancing at me and when it was all done and over, he’d wrapped his arm about my waist, pulling me into him possessively, as we’d walked to the Bentley.

  I’d never had a man, much less a man like him, do anything like this. It was so intimate, strong and yet tender that I felt my knees attempt to buckle from a bona-fide swoon. His cologne invaded my nose and desire gurgled up inside of me.

  So inappropriate! We were at his mother’s funeral for goodness sake…

  My head and thoughts spun with confusion about this dynamic between us. Whatever boundaries had been set up on paper, in contract and between us, seemed bashed to hell under the weight of circumstances. I was so entirely out of my league and comfort zone, that it pronounced my feeling of helplessness. But not necessarily in a bad way, per se…

  Not that I wanted to leave or run away, but if I had needed to get home, back to the U.S. for whatever reason, I was completely at the mercy of this man. This rich, powerful, near-royal gentleman I barely even knew.

  Whose mother had recently passed-away. As in, died. Dead.

  And I was the closest thing in proximity to him that was a woman. A woman being paid to pretend she was his girlfriend. A woman he was meant to spank, at some point in the future.

  Zing!

  My head spun with thoughts at the complete ridiculousness of it all.

  Once we were settled in the back of the Bentley, Charlie drove us away from the cemetery. Sebastian remained quiet and seemed deep in thought. Then, out of the blue, he looked at me.

  “Would you like to have dinner with me?”

  Startled by the request, I nodded hesitantly. “Sure, if that is what you want?”

  “It is. I want to have dinner. With you.” He answered.

  Smiling, I ran my hand through my hair in a nervous gesture and indicated again that it sounded like a good idea.

  “Good, it’s decided.” He leaned forward and rapped on the glass partition between us and his driver, Charlie.

  “To the Brass Horse, we’re going to have dinner.”

  “Certainly, sir.”

  About twenty minutes later, Charlie pulled the Bentley up to an upper-class restaurant where an eager valet dashed to open the car-door. Sebastian stepped out first and then reached for my hand to assist me out of the car.

  When we touched, I felt the strong warmth, the gentle grip and the raw power of his hand. As I glanced up to look at him, time stopped. It felt like he’d always been there, to hold my hand, to assist me, to offer the simplest of comforts.

  But then, wasn’t that why I was there? In service to him?

  Yet again, a knowing look was shared between us. Something that spoke to more than just two strangers playing the part. It was more intimate.

  He led me inside where we were quickly guided to a private table. He pulled the chair back for me to sit and then joined me once I was settled.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d prefer to order for us both. This is one of my favorite dining spots in the UK and they know what I enjoy. You’re of course welcome to anything else on the menu if you don’t enjoy what I select.” He said while a white-gloved server placed a cloth napkin on his lap. Another one did the same for me.

  Considering how completely different my life was from his, I was suddenly grateful for the every-other-Sunday tea sessions with my grandmother. Although my mother hadn’t been a part of my life due to her passing when I was a young child, my father had made the effort to keep my brother and I in regular contact with her mother, my grandmother.

  Those tea sessions were the only place I’d ever learned or practiced any type of proper social manners and behavior. I could fake being around such socially proprietary dining habits and get by.

  Within minutes, we had wine and water, appetizers with warm, sourdough bread and salted butter. It was then, right there, that the full force of my appetite and hunger hit. The last few days had been such a mish-mash of new environment, different experiences out of my normal mode, a time-zone and continent change that I’d pushed aside my need for food.

  But now? I was ravenous…

  In a way, it worked. Focused more on the food, it pretty much kept my mouth full. At first, he brought up various topics to ignite conversation, but my hunger prevented me from providing anything beyond a sentence or two in response.

  Muted by my genuine hunger and shyness, he eventually let it go and I saw a grin of amusement on his face in between his own bites and chewing. He continued to watch me, his eyes steadfast in their penetrable gaze. I was beginning to get used to it. He always had a bit of a hungry wolf look in his eye.

  Since I had precious little interaction and conversation with him to gauge from, I just assumed that this was normal. Our meal continued, each of us entirely absorbed by our food, exchanging the occasional furtive glance.

  Once dinner was over, he quietly paid the bill and led me outside. Quietly, we got back into the Bentley and the drive back to the Manor was equally absent of conversation.

  But it felt right. Natural, somehow. As if everything that needed to be said, was done in some manner, unspoken. The awkwardness having melted away and settled into something complimentary.

  When we arrived, he did something entirely unexpected. After we’d entered the grand house, he’d gently grabbed my hand and pressed his lips to the back of it.

  “Thank you, Celeste.” He said, a look of genuine appreciation in his gaze.

  “Certainly, sir. My pleasure.” I said.

  He’d then walked down the hall, barely saying goodnight. I’d stood motionless for a while, watching him retreat and eager to be in his
company again. Under better circumstances.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  After a couple days of no interaction of any kind, I stumbled across Earl in the estate’s private library laying seemingly near-prostrate across one of the leather chesterfields.

  A roaring fire in the fireplace was the only light in the room and it cast a warm glow on his tall, attractive physique. Instead of being properly dressed as he typically was, he was wearing boxer briefs and a wife-beater T-shirt.

  The sight of his legs took my breath away. Lean, muscular and stretched out. The firelight flicked, showing teasing glimpses of his frame’s handsome contours.

  I also found it sexy, seeing him so relaxed and casual. Unassuming. I wasn’t sure but I knew something was off. This didn’t seem like him, so in control and formal all the time. The proper, dapper, gentleman. But this week had included his mother’s funeral, so who knew? It was an anything goes type of week, I’d imagine.

  In front of the sofa, on an ottoman-like coffee table, was a care package gift-basket overflowing with foods, bottled liquors and fine sweet-treats. Interestingly, about half of the items appeared to have been opened in a manner of moments, like a four-year old child had torn into the gift, wanting everything open all at once instead of taking their time with each package and carefully opening one after the other.

  I grinned in amusement and stood watching him. Every now and then, he mumbled something mostly inaudible and reached for another item from the pile before him. I saw a tumbler full of hard liquor, glowing amber in the firelight was resting on the ottoman. His hand held another one, nearly empty. He downed the one in his hand and set it aside, picking up the other one.

  Deciding I better not lurk too long watching him, I announced myself. Making my presence known.

  “Sir, might I join you?” I asked.

  He jerked up and peered at me over the sofa-back top. He grumbled something incomprehensible while gesturing with his free hand that I could enter his personal space.