He came to stand by her. “Hadn’t thought about it. It had never entered my mind until I saw how you did your da’s place. You made it so, I don’t know, interesting and welcoming. Enchanting actually. Makes you want to sit a while and soak in the…friendly comfort, enjoy the attractiveness of the place, I guess? Comforting, yet visually stimulating. Made me start thinking about having something like it here.”
“Oh,” she pretended to be offended. Crossed her arms and stuck her foot out like she does when she’s piqued. “You only abducted me so I could create this room for you.”
Laughing, Naithon scooped an arm around her and pulled her in. Smoothing strands of hair from her cheek, he kissed the tip of her nose. “Ja, sure, I stole you to design my place. That’s why I can’t keep my hands, or mind, off of you, pigeon.” He bent to give her a real kiss and she swiveled out of his arms.
“No, Naithon, you kiss me and one thing will lead to another, you know.”
Sighing, “Ja, I know. The another is where I want to get to.” The more time he spent with her the more he wanted her willingly in his bed. He wanted it, but he was rapidly running out of patience and living with blue balls that he had to take care of himself.
He could have any number of women eager to help him with his problem, but as he told Kiri and Maz, he had zip interest in fucking anyone but Kiri. The thought of having another woman’s hands on his body made his insides shrivel.
“Okay, be serious now, tell me what you want, and not me, the room.”
He chuckled, thinking how clever and cute she was. “You got me pegged, lamb.” Glancing around, he shrugged. “I don’t know design. A comfortable chair and bed is all I ever cared about. I hired a decorator to do the mansion here in Marécage, and my office in Chaleur. Told her nothing frou-frou or girly, just sturdy furniture for my crew. You come up with something, you’re the talent.”
Nodding thoughtfully, she surveyed the area again. “Okay. I would want to stay with the theme of the rest of the plant and offices. Sleek, modern, yet keep the rustic appeal of being out in the country. The best of both worlds, chicly urbane and rural picturesque.”
Finger to chin, she strolled in a small circle, taking in the high arched ceilings, wide windows in the back, tucked away clandestine alcoves. “I’m thinking I’d like to make it…intriguing.”
Peering around, smiling abstractedly as she imagined the room completed, then a pleased smile lifted her pretty lips. “I have an idea. Because your vodka is crystal clear, I think it would sparkle luxuriously displayed on shelves of black velvet.”
Tongue poking out the side of her mouth as she continued looking at the room, eyes squinting and revolving as she pictured concepts. Her ruminating thoughts murmured out loud, “I’d like to do like I did with my dad’s Maestá d’oro. I put gold, silver, turquoise and diamond chips in the different bottles, making each differently hued amber rum sparkle with a hint of wealthy color.”
He watched as ideas flickered across her face. “Would you do the same with my vodka? That does sound intriguing.”
Kiri strolled over to the unfinished bar, tapped her finger on the raw wood. “Sort of, but different. Your liquor is clear, I’m thinking of adding crystals like amethyst, smoky topaz, rose quartz, aquamarine and others. Against the clear liquid, they will be slightly blurry, but each will have a unique glittering coloration. Set on the black velvet with lights above, maybe colored lights to match the individual crystals, I think it would make your vodka come alive with fire, radiance.”
Naithon was speechless. He had always thought she was smart and talented, but shit, the girl was a bloody genius. “Wow, babygirl, you got it going on. That sounds fantastic.”
Nodding, she walked around in thought. “With the variety of colored crystals, each mixer you add will continue to alter the look and unique appeal of the drink. You and your mixologist can sit around and come up with exotic names for the cocktails.”
He chuckled at the idea, but tilted his head at the thought, it was a good idea.
She went on, “I think I’d like to make this room dusky and mysterious, have your pourers be young, attractive men and women in sexy, yet classy outfits. Not pasties and thongs!” she said quickly and turned to see him grinning at her.
She’d never seen him grin before. It was…nice. Took the edge off his normal hostile nature. “I’m thinking black tie kind of, in a way but not exactly, for both the males and females, a sophisticated Playboy kind of appeal, again classy, not plain like Hooters. And yet simple so guests don’t feel uncomfortable or overwhelmed.
“Customers won’t want to come out to a daytime tasting if they feel they have to dress to the nines to fit in. So, keep it sophisticated, sexy, simple.” She thought a minute. “Yes, I want serene aplomb.”
Rubbing his hands together, he smiled. “I’m liking it, lamb, can’t wait to get started.”
“Yes, softly steamy and romantic, think red roses and black velvet. We can switch it up when seasons change, maybe sapphire and diamonds, this would be for adults only. Outside, in the summer on the deck, you can bring in cooling food like salads, sandwiches, sodas, or, maybe a changing theme for fall like spicier enchiladas and carnitas, tortillas and salsa for snacking.
“Make them thirsty for drinks. The next season do Italian food with purple heather and so on. People will want to come back just to see what’s different.
“You can make a patio like I started at Dad’s and cater to families. I mean, adults buy the vodka, but if you pull in the children you’ll get more foot traffic. I even started to add horseback riding, we could think of things people would enjoy doing here like that. Maybe croquet or badminton on the lawn. Sophisticated, simple, family.”
“Uh huh,” he nodded, picturing it all. Proud gaze on his girl, he smiled with enthusiasm. “Will you photograph it so I can put ads in magazines, ja?”
Her grin went from ear to ear. “I would love to!”
********
A few weeks passed, the tasting room was well on its way to completion, and Kiri worked in her studio every day. The only time she saw Naithon was at dinner, or when he briefly took her by to see the progress of the tasting room. He made sure he broke from business every evening to eat dinner with her.
As usual, she was asleep when he came in and when he left in the morning. Sometimes she woke in her clothes in the bed and realized he had carried her from her studio and tucked her in.
Staring out the window of her studio, she watched red cardinals swooping after each other, and a fat-breasted robin hopping in the grass. She realized she was actually missing Naithon. He was broody and crude, violent when someone did something really egregious, he cursed and said vulgar words that brought pink to her cheeks.
But he was gentle with her, had his hands all over her, but not sexually whenever he was near. He stroked her arm, her back, her thigh, hugged her. When any people were around he did it more blatantly, advertising his claim, warning the others off.
His subtlety was working; she was growing used to him, and enjoying his touch. What frightened her was she was thinking about wanting more, and, she hadn’t thought about trying to escape since that day he brought her back on the horse. She didn’t want a repeat spanking, but it really was more than that.
He praised her work, and his eyes, she sighed. Smoldering onyx whenever he looked at her. She knew the time would come when he would push her again for the sex, but he was giving her time to adapt to him and her situation. He was basically courting her.
Whenever she talked about going home, he brushed her words away. He didn’t tell her anymore that he was keeping her, he just showed her. He bought her more clothes, pieces of jewelry, art supplies.
Part of her understood the truth in what he said. That due to her heritage they would never let her live free, totally alone. She would never be safe in the world without protection. Naithon gave her everything she could possibly desire, her cage was gilded, her warden was dating her, and she was under a
thumb. A handsome, sexy, sometimes charming thumb, but nevertheless, it held her down. Well, in.
Mazonn had told her Naithon had done a complete 360 in his behavior towards her, he treated her different than he did anyone else, especially women. He wasn’t a nice person, a patient person; he was rough and callous, yet to her, he was tender and patient. He’d made it clear he believed she was worth the wait, the patience and work involved in wooing her.
She begged him to stop buying her things, not that he did. And, she’d found he had a sharp wit, was dryly funny, and he loved to make her laugh. Yes, she missed him. He had done it, he had wormed his way in. Instead of bulldozing over her, forcing her, he did it like a stealthy war; he had snuck in and won. She still wanted her freedom, but she wanted Naithon too.
Watching another robin hop in and the two fighting over a worm, Kiri realized she didn’t think Naithon had slept in bed with her for the past several nights. His pillow wasn’t smushed, and his side of the bed stayed unwrinkled.
Was he tired of waiting for her and was getting his needs met with another woman? That Silver girl perhaps? A shaft of pain stabbed her belly at the image of Naithon on top of Silver, his mouth on her big bare breasts-
“Would he?” That disturbed her. Setting the paintbrush in a glass to soak, she removed her apron, dropped it on a counter and went to the phone on the wall. She’d only called him previously a few times, he’d always come to her right away. But now, the phone rang and rang, and he didn’t pick up. He had entered Mazonn’s, Blok’s and Yashin’s numbers as well. She dialed Mazonn.
He answered on the second ring. “Kiri, what’s up?”
“Maz, I just realized, I mean, I haven’t seen Naithon in days, and he isn’t answering his phone, is everything okay? Is he away on business? He didn’t mention it to me.” Naithon kept his business from her, but when he traveled for brief amounts of time he always told her where, when and how long he was going to be away.
There was a pregnant pause, then Mazonn said, “I’ll be right there.”
By the time she put her shoes on and combed her hair, he was in the doorway looking grim. Her heart clenched. “Maz, is he all right?”
“Ah, ja, sort of.”
“Sort of? What does that mean?” Maz was making her anxious with his vague words. “He isn’t- has he been arrested? He isn’t hurt is he?”
Mazonn stepped inside, hesitated, then strode over and sat on a chair and gestured for her to sit on the sofa.
“You’re scaring me, Maz,” her voice caught as she sat down.
He dragged a hand through his dark hair, the twinkle in his eye was absent today. “He…he’s okay, really, Kiri. It’s just,” at her anxious eyes, fingers twisting themselves in her lap, he sucked in a deep breath, let it out.
“All right. It’s like this. Naithon has had a…hard life. His da yanked him out of school at a very young age and put him to work. Very violent work. When Naithon had made a good bundle of dough, his da took everything he’d earned and kicked him out to the streets.” Folding his hands together, Maz leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.
Kiri could see the torment that Naithon had gone through imprinted in Maz’s poignant blue eyes. “What a horrible thing for a father to do to his child.”
Nodding, Maz raked his hair off his forehead and sat back. “Ja, bastard of a man. With no money and nowhere to live, Naithon ended up in one of the most vicious gangs in the United States. The horrendous things they’d made him do, he had no choice, you do what they say or they kill you.
The deeds, still, they plague his mind. Once they caught a prospect, that’s a guy trying to become a full member of a gang, he was stealing from the gang and snitching to the Feds.”
Maz glanced at her to see how she was receiving the information. Would she hate Naithon even more? But, he decided, she needed to understand Naithon’s world, see why he was the way he was. “Ah, so, they staked the guy to the floor, hammered steel pegs through his hands and ankles. They, uh, made Nait cut pieces off him, slowly, one at a time. Fingers, toes, and so on until he confessed everything and gave names of other men involved with the Feds.”
Wiping his palm across his sweating forehead, Mazonn took a breath. “Honey, there are some things you never forget, can’t scrub out of your mind.”
Drumming his fingers on the edge of the chair arms he studied Kiri to see if she was sympathetic or judgmental of the things Naithon had been forced to do. Pity and concern laced the green of her eyes, mouth turned down in sorrow.
He went on. “At one point, one of the gang members made a mistake and they all ended up in prison. Nait was sent to an adult prison at seventeen. For five years he endured worse in prison than in the gang. They did things to him, made him do unspeakable things to others. It…well, now, once in a while the heavy, hideous memories break through his protective wall and cloud him and he…shuts down I guess you call it. Goes into a deep, dark depression, a tortured black fugue. We’ve tried, but none of us have ever been able to pull him out of it.”
“What does he do when he shuts down?”
Mazonn sat back, crossed his legs. “Ah, well, he disappears. Goes somewhere isolated and dark, and he drinks. A lot.”
“For how long?”
“Until it passes, a few days, sometimes longer.”
“Where is he now?”
Mazonn didn’t answer her, he looked away.
“Maz, I know you know, tell me where he is. Is he with…women?”
Vehemently shaking his head he said quickly with a frown, “No, no. He has too big a thing for you. No, he was gone, but he couldn’t stay far from you. He’s in the macabre gardens now.”
“The macabre gardens?”
“Ja, at the end of the long corridor in the east wing, past all the rooms there are gardens in an enclosed courtyard, like a greenhouse. We call them macabre because they are dark, gloomy, no one goes there. I don’t know why he keeps them going. Has UV lights for the plants, and someone tends them. Sometimes it’s him.”
“Take me there.” She got up and went to the door.
“Kiri-”
“Take me there, now.”
Shaking his head, he reluctantly followed her to the door and opened it. “Listen, Kiri-”
She stepped past him out to the hall. “Take me to him.”
Closing the door, Mazonn let out a heavy sigh and walked with her to the stairs. Down to the first floor, they walked, and walked, the mansion, or compound, was enormous more twists and turns, hallways and rooms than a castle.
At last, he slowed. Stopped outside a large wooden door. “Kiri,” he stood in front of the door. “He doesn’t like to be bothered when he’s like this. He’s come to blows before when we’ve tried to intervene. I don’t think you should-”
“Open the door and step out of the way, Maz. Please.”
Mazonn arched his neck and stared at the ceiling with a groan. Exhaling hard, he said to her, “I’ll be out here. Any trouble, scream and I will come. Okay?”
“Yes. Open the door.”
Silently he opened it and watched her disappear into the dark. Then he sucked in a deep breath and closed the door almost but not quite all the way.
Kiri could smell the damp soil, the delicate scent of flowers, but it was dark. She stood to let her eyes adjust to the light. She almost called out his name, but assumed he wouldn’t answer or he’d tell her to go, so she moved slowly through the gloom.
Although there was the soft fragrance of flowers, the place was horribly dismal. So dark the flowers and plants all looked different shades and depths of black. The UV lights weren’t on. A shred of light gashing in through a skylight up high cast glum shadows, only made it gloomier.
Kiri picked her way carefully through the spooky garden, ferns and leaves brushed her jeans, tiny gnarly branches grabbed at her hair and sleeves as she passed by them. Hearing a slight sound, she paused and listened. A bottle clanked on a hard surface. She followed the sound and found him. Sh
e moved up silently behind him.
Naithon’s jaw showed he hadn’t shaved in days, his black shirt and jeans were dusty. The shirt partially unbuttoned, he sat slumped on a wooden bench. His spine against the back of the bench, his neck was arched, his head hung back, eyes closed. His fingers wrapped loosely around the neck of a bottle of his vodka. The base of the bottle was on the bench. He looked like hell.
“Go away,” he growled, his voice sore, thick and rusty from days of drinking.
Ignoring his order, Kiri moved slowly, not wanting to anger him with a sudden approach.
He didn’t move, eyes stayed closed, he growled again, accent slurred and thick as mud, “Get the fuck outta here, don’t want you here.” He lifted the bottle and chugged, there was only about an eighth of vodka left in it. Dropping his limp arm, the bottle clunked on the bench.
As if he hadn’t spoken, she trod around the bench and stood in front of him.
Slurring into inaudible, he snarled, “I said fucking go away. I fucking mean it.”
Without a word, Kiri lowered to her knees, then sat on the cool floor and laid her head on his thigh. He twitched, jerking her head, but didn’t push her away.
They sat, for a long time, neither speaking. Then, she felt his hand on her head. Her eyes opened, but she didn’t move.
After a few minutes, he brushed his hand over her hair once, then again. They sat, for an hour, and he stroked her hair, played with it, let curls coil around his fingers then let them slide like silk ribbons out of his hand.
“Baby,” he said hoarsely, and patted the seat of the bench beside him. Her legs were stiff, she climbed up and sat next to him. Naithon rolled an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his chest, he laid his head on top of hers. He should have smelled bad, but he didn’t, he smelled like him, virile, masculine.
“I came up behind you, your eyes were closed, how did you know I was here?” she asked him quietly.
“Ah, baby, I am so attuned to you I can feel, smell you when you are near. That’s why I brought my bender back here. I needed to be close to you. Maz watched out for you while I…”
Distilled Duplicity Page 15
