Escape From Paradise (26 page)

He thought I was beautiful. Not just a sex object or toy. Nobody at the villa had ever made me feel that way except Josef, but he was my friend. Mr. Douglas had depicted me as soulful. Alive.

And I felt it.

It’d been so long since I felt alive. It almost hurt to feel that way in a place like this, where I had no chance of acting on it. I was a caged animal with a will to live fully. I’d worked hard to kill that will, because it did nothing but hurt me to feel that way in here.

Why was he doing this to me? Part of me felt angry at his insensitivity. How dare he paint me like that, drudging up old hopes and wishes, when it was only a short matter of time before he’d leave me and possibly never return?

Stop!
There I went again, thinking as if Mr. Douglas saw me as anything other than a slave. Less than human. Which he couldn’t possibly. He was only seeing me with his artist’s eye. I was over-thinking the whole painting.

My feelings were all over the place.

Josef came in the room, his hair a mess. Must’ve been an active morning for him. He grinned at me and stripped naked. He was so cute. Marco kept him lean by not feeding him enough and not letting him workout with weights, which made Josef appear younger. He looked like a teen when he was actually in his mid-twenties. He came over and squatted next to me, running a hand over my forehead.

“You feeling okay?” he asked in Spanish.

I nodded. He frowned, obviously able to tell I was lying. The press of his lips together showed me he wanted to say something—ask something, but he couldn’t.

“Patrons…” he said, searching for the words. “They come and go. Our time with some is more significant than others. We enjoy the better ones while we can, and then we must let them go.”

“I know,” I whispered. He was right, and I could always count on Josef. But his words stung my eyes.

He ran a hand through my hair, which appeared bright yellow-gold against his tanned skin.

“You are to put on a bathing suit, sunhat, and sunglasses and be at the ready in case Señor Douglas asks for you. He is at the pool. You are being permitted in the lounging area. We will go together once I’m showered.”

My heart soared, but I held back any response other than a nod before he stood and strolled to the bathroom.

The lounging area was a screened in porch, of sorts, overlooking the pool. It was full of Marco’s imported flowers from around the world. It was the closest I was ever allowed to being outside, because by standing at the back of the lounging area I couldn’t see the ocean, therefore people on the ocean couldn’t see me.

I went to the closet and put on my red and gold bikini. I swiped red lipstick on, then divided my hair into two low pigtails that lay over the front of my shoulders. A floppy, black sunhat and Hollywood sunglasses finished me off. Josef came over with his hair dripping. I grabbed a towel and patted it dry. He liked allowing us girls to take care of him. He stood still, even closed his eyes, while I ran the brush through his silky black hair. He thanked me with a kiss to the cheek, then put on a tiny black speedo, his package filling it to the max. And we were ready to go. Mia blew us both a kiss.

Luis was waiting to escort us. When we entered the lounging room he directed me straight back to the cushioned swing, and I sat obediently. The
twang
of a Spanish guitar and
swish
of maracas sailed up to us from the live music playing poolside. Josef went to the screened door and looked at Luis, who nodded for him to go. Josef disappeared through the door and down the set of stone steps to the pool. I had a perfect view of the pool from where I sat.

My eyes immediately found Mr. Douglas sipping something brown on ice—probably scotch—under an umbrella with Marco. My heart warmed at the sight of him in his sunglasses, and I had to scold myself.

A cloud moved and a streak of sunlight filtered into the lounging area. It was muted from the screens, but still so lovely. I needed it on my skin. I kicked off my high heels and stretched my legs out, letting the warm streak of light fall across my feet. I smiled to myself.
Hello sunshine, old friend.
I felt like I was doing something forbidden, stealing this moment with the sun. I looked up at Luis who gave me an uninterested glance. I turned my attention back to my feet, wiggling my toes.

Down by the pool Marco called Perla over as a salsa tune began. She was an excellent salsa dancer, and Marco loved to show her off. He must have told her to dance, because she began to move, smiling at Marco and Mr. Douglas in turn. Marco watched her with adoring ownership. Mr. Douglas was harder to read whenever he was in a group setting like this. His lips were tilted up, kind of like a smile, but not. He didn’t come across as rude, necessarily, but contemplative, as if his mind were always elsewhere. His surroundings seemed to only mildly amuse him.

As the song ended Mr. Douglas and the surrounding patrons clapped for Perla, who shyly took her place kneeling at Marco’s side. Someone must have come in through the veranda entrance because Marco smiled and stood. A short, thin man with a black ponytail came in and was greeted warmly by Marco. A blonde slave in a white minidress went to her knees and assumed the kneeling position when her master stopped to talk. She was as tall as her master. Probably European. Her hair nearly touched her ass. I felt kind of jealous of that hair. I liked mine, but I’d never been able to grow it out like that.

Marco motioned to the girl and they seemed to be talking about her. Maybe she was new. I didn’t recognize the patron. And then Marco was adding Mr. Douglas to the conversation. All three men laughed. I wished I could hear what they were saying.

Another of Marco’s men came into the sunroom, Paulo. He was usually in charge of me when Luis wasn’t around. The two of them started talking and I wished they’d be quiet so I could concentrate, not that I could hear anything anyway. Luis asked Paulo how newlywed life was, and then made a comment about Paulo’s fine young piece of ass wife and her sassy mouth. I held back an eye roll when Paulo started talking about how he pounded her into submission every night, and blah, blah, blah. Both men were cracking up laughing, being as vulgar as possible to impress one another.

I turned my attention back to Mr. Douglas, scooting to the far edge of the padded swing to get the best view possible. And then my stomach turned. The blonde slave was standing now, and moving between Mr. Douglas’s legs. He looked her over, giving a series of slow nods while Marco talked, I assumed asking him questions of what he thought of the girl.

I sat up taller.

No.

The girl was moving to sit on his lap.

No!

A frantic, nauseating jealousy rose up, choking me. She was sitting on his lap, looking far too pleased at the close-up of his handsome face. One of her lithe hands was around his shoulder and the other trailed up and down the middle of his chest.

I stood, moving closer.

When Mr. Douglas moved her mane of hair over her shoulder as if to get a better look, I reached for the screen door handle. My heart was pounding a distraught rhythm and my skin felt feverish. I became possessed by an impulsive urge to go down there and remind them that I was supposed to be the one taking care of him. I was here, ready to be called on, just as my master had asked of me. Had Marco forgotten? I could just remind him.

I wasn’t in my right mind when I peeked behind me and found the two bodyguards in their own conversational world, clueless that I’d ever do anything as foolish as I was about to do. But in my desperate mind at that moment it made sense. I pulled open the door and rushed down the steps on my bare feet.

The sun hit my face. A strong ocean breeze blew my hat off, over the rocks and down the cliffside. I didn’t care.

“Maestro!” I called out to Marco. “Estoy aquí!”
Master, I’m here.

The shouts of Luis and Paulo sounded behind me, and for one moment I felt elated when Marco and Mr. Douglas turned and saw me. Now they remembered! But Marco’s look of confusion quickly turned to anger, and Mr. Douglas’s look of shock quickly turned to apprehension. He stood, practically tossing the slave girl off his lap.

Luis barreled into me from behind, lifting me off my feet and running with me toward the house. I struggled against him at first, wanting him to put me down so I could explain. But by the time we hit the cool shade of the indoors my madness had cleared, swiftly replaced by a shameful horror at what I’d done.

Luis dropped me to the floor where I banged my knee and cowered backward against the wall. Trembling began as multiple pairs of feet rushed in, voices raised, Marco asking Luis what the hell was going on. Everyone from the pool seemed to cram into the room to witness the spectacle I’d caused.

I was shaking so hard. What had I done? What had I
done
? I wanted to bury myself in the floor as the shouts rang out above me. I flattened myself in a ball, pressing my face between my knees. And then someone had a handful of my hair and was yanking my head upward. Luis.

“Answer him!” he shouted.

Marco stood in front of me, his hands behind his back, that woeful look of disappointment on his face. I could only whimper because I hadn’t heard the question.

“Lo siento,” I whispered.

“My Angel.” His voice was calm, so calm. “I don’t know what you were thinking, but this is your gravest disobedience to me yet.”

I swallowed hard and my eyes slipped to Mr. Douglas next to him. His jaw was set as if he were the one angered and scared. Did he think I was a bad girl now? I didn’t want him to think that. I was good. I’d been good so long.

I found Josef in the door’s entrance. The sheer fear and sadness on his face made a single sob bubble up from my chest and a tear spilled over.

Marco stepped forward and smacked me across the face.

I gasped. He hadn’t hit me very hard, but a scorching flare of pain reverberated from my cheek and through my whole body. It was guilt. I had let him down.

“You will be whipped.”

I nodded, fighting back tears. It’d been so long since I had the urge to cry, and it was hard to hold back.

“Your actions have also forfeited your prized possession,” he said coldly.

My prized…? Oh, no.

“No, Maestro,” I whispered. “Por favor, no.” Luis yanked my head again to shush me. My chin quivered.

“Sí, Angel, sí,” Marco said in a low voice. “I was hoping it would not come to this, but you have pushed me too far this time.”

Who would do it?

The air was buzzing with excitement. All around us were hungry eyes.

“What is her prized possession, Señor?” the wiry, short man asked with far too much enthusiasm.

Marco stared at me for what felt like forever, building the tension in the room.

“Her anal virginity.”

Oohs
and
ahs
and sniggers of enthusiasm rose up throughout the room. I shut my eyes, placing my palms on the floor to steady myself as dizziness took over. My insides quaked with icy fear, spreading to outward tremors.

And then a low, clear, Scottish voice rang out above the din of whispers.

“I’ll do it, Señor.” The room hushed and every set of eyes turned toward Mr. Douglas’s serious face as he addressed Marco. “Allow me to punish her.”

He didn’t know what the hell’d gotten into him, but there was no way he was allowing any of these idiots to beat Angela on his watch, or let them get their dicks anywhere near her arse. He stared at Marco, waiting for his response, ready and more than willing to fight if it came to that. His muscles were tense and his neck was tight.

He could see Marco was unsure. Contemplating.

“I’ll pay,” Colin said. Fuck, he was desperate not to let anyone hurt her. Even if it meant he would have to hurt her himself. He knew he’d be a hell of a lot gentler than these shitebags.

Finally, Marco nodded and said, “Very well. Perla, take the girl and prepare her. Mr. Douglas, follow me.”

Colin felt the tension deflate from his body, only to return when he realized what the fuck he’d just volunteered for. He forced himself to follow Marco and not look back at Angela.

What had happened to make her come running down the stairs like that? Colin replayed the events, but came up confused.

He and Marco had been discussing his most recent painting. And then that wee man showed up with his Russian slave girl, and Marco thought it’d be “interesting” to experiment. Marco wondered if it was his Angel who was truly inspiring Colin, or if any beautiful blonde would do the trick. Colin played along, allowing the Russian to sit on his lap. And then Angela was running at them like mad. In fucking pigtails. At first he’d thought she was running
from
the guard Luis, but then it seemed as if she were running
to
Marco. Or maybe himself.

What could possibly be so important that she’d break an enormous rule and put herself in a punishable position?

Marco opened the solid doors to a darkened room. Not just dark from lack of light, but dark from every wall and the ceiling being black, and…holy Mary…