Sexy In A Bottle: A More Than Men Novella (4 page)

And before he knew it, Raj was back in the stone.

This, however, was a different sort of restlessness. He wasn’t in the stone. He was free to move about the island. His mistress made no immediate demands of him. In fact, she seemed adamant not to make any wishes at all.

Now he was sitting on the couch watching what Valerie called a television show. It was a new technology that allowed actors to perform
plays that could be broadcast to thin, flat receivers like hers. Radios were the big thing the last time he’d been out. There had been new large boxes that displayed small, gray images, but nothing so colorful and clear as now. The play was interesting. The characters were likable enough and seemed to find themselves in simple predicaments that took a whole half an hour to resolve.

But still he felt almost useless. He typically didn’t feel this way when he was
"out." He was all-powerful. Raj could do almost anything short of interfering with free will or reversing someone’s destiny. Dead people had to stay dead. Living people couldn’t be killed or "willed away." But almost anything else could come to pass.

He and his last master had gone many rounds about what he could and could not wish for. No, Raj could not make him
emperor of the world and force the masses to bow down to him. He could give him a great army to conquer other nations and persuasive speech that might eventually earn him that role. But he couldn’t blink an entire race of people or a problematic world leader out of existence. He couldn’t bring back his master’s dead mother. There were laws of nature that even Raj couldn’t alter.

His last master had taken his time. It
took weeks for him to decide just how he’d wanted to use the wishes. It had been one of Raj’s longest stays outside of the stone. And even though his master’s every wish made him sick to his stomach about what was to come, he felt useful.

Raj turned to look at Valerie sitting beside him on the couch.
She was curled against the opposite armrest, her legs tucked under her and her arms wrapped over her chest. She appeared to be involved in the show, but Raj knew better. She was tense. Wary of him. She hesitated to make eye contact, much less demand something from him.

This had never happened before. He didn’t know what to do about it.
Or if he should do anything.

Perhaps he should
…enjoy it. That was a new idea. He was out of the stone, and no demands were being placed on him. It was almost like being free again.

"
Would you like something to drink?"

Raj realized the show had ended and he was staring at her.
"No, thank you. I am well."

Valerie nodded and got up, going into the kitchen.
He watched her rub her palms over her upper arms and reach for a hooded jacket hanging in the kitchen.

"
Are you cold?" he asked, perking up at the thought he might finally be useful. "Would you like me to start a fire?"

She
paused with her hand on the refrigerator handle. He could tell she was surprised, as though she wasn’t used to people doing things for her. "That would be great, if you don’t mind. There’s firewood just around the corner of the house."

Raj had no intention of gathering firewood. As Valerie bent down to search in the fridge, he snapped his fingers and a fire roared to life in the hearth. The room was immediately warmer, but she seemed too preoccupied to notice his great feat. Her lips twisted in irritation as she shut the door and
turned to a small closet filled with her food stock.

"
Damn," she swore.

"
May I be of additional assistance?"

"
No," she said, shutting the door. "Just worry about the fi—" she started to say and then spied the crackling flames already well established there. Her hazel gaze moved back to Raj, who hadn’t so much as shifted in his seat. "I, uh…" She continued, startled but unwilling to address the alternative. "I’m just out of my favorite drink. I thought I still had a can or two left."

It was not a wish, and he would caution her about wasting one on a simple beverage if it was, but this was something
else he could do for her. He snapped his fingers. "Are you certain there is not more in your cupboard? I am certain I saw some earlier. Behind the bag of potatoes."

Valerie turned back to the pantry and
switched on the light again. "Ah, you’re right," she said. "There’s a whole case back here I didn’t even know I had. Thanks."

He smiled as she carried
an armful of cans out and put them up to chill. When she returned to the couch with her drink and admired the fire he’d built, she was smiling for the first time since he’d met her.

He enjoyed seeing her smile. It lit up her beautiful face, chasing away the shadows and sadness that seemed to settle there. He wanted to see her smile again. To do whatever he could to make her
happy. She might refuse her wishes, but he could use his limited powers for her benefit however he saw fit. It was one of the first times in his long existence that he felt compelled to do something for his master because he wanted to, not because he had an unshakable, magical drive to do so.

As the next show b
egan — this one some sort of bizarre competition that rewarded deceit and treachery — the smile faded and the loneliness settled back in. Raj felt his chest tighten. He didn’t want to lose her smile. He wanted his mistress to be happy.

Raj sensed that something was wrong in Valerie’s life. She was a young, beautiful girl of marrying age. She had alluring hazel eyes and rich, dark auburn hair that begged a man to run his fingers through it. She was petite and feminine with ample curves to satisfy a man’s desires. There had to be plenty of suitors interested in her hand. She should have a husband and a family. And yet she was on this island all alone. He had no idea what it was that haunted her, but he was nearly certain he could help her if she would just let him.

"Do you need something?" Valerie turned to look at him and caught him staring.

"
No. Forgive me for staring. I just cannot help but wonder why a beautiful woman such as yourself seems so sad. There is a loneliness in your eyes that concerns me greatly."

Valerie’s eyes widened, her lips parting softly. She sucked in a breath and then pulled herself back together.
"I’m not sad, Raj. I’ve just had a long day, and I’m not looking forward to the storm tomorrow."

Raj
knew she wasn’t telling the truth, but he also knew she wasn’t ready to open up to him. Not yet, at least. This mistress was too distrustful to make her wishes, as though she wouldn’t allow herself to get her hopes up and be disappointed. How could he convince her she wouldn’t be disappointed with what he could give her?

"
I think I’m going to go to bed. There are a lot of things I need to do tomorrow before the storm in case the power goes out, like a couple of loads of laundry. I plan to get up early. Are you done with the television, or are you going to stay awake for a while?"

"
I will go to bed if you are."

Valerie nodded and turned off the television.
She went first down the hallway, not noticing as Raj snapped his fingers and doused the fire as quickly as he had created it.

"
Good night, Rajan," she said before she slipped into her room and shut the door.

"
Good night, Mistress," he responded, although she did not hear him. He stood quietly in the doorway of his own room for a moment, listening to the scrape of wood on wood as she moved a large piece of furniture in front of the door.

With a sigh he closed his
own door. He snapped his fingers and changed out of his clothes and into a pair of men’s lounging pants. When he climbed into bed, he switched off the lamp beside him.

What a strange day this had been. He had granted no wishes and yet had managed to put a smile, albeit small, on his mistress’
s face. He had eaten food, watched television, and now, was about to sleep in a bed. This was all out of the norm for him, especially the latter since he did not sleep like humans did.

But he lay there, because his mistress wanted him to. Perhaps tomorrow she
would allow him leave to find other ways to make her smile.

Chapter Three

Valerie had intended to get up early, but she had slept incredibly hard
, with wildly vivid and sexually explicit dreams about her houseguest. The clock by her bed said it was after nine by the time she rolled over to look at it. The excitement of the day must have exhausted her. She would have to be more careful today, especially with the storm, not to get overexcited. Raj didn’t deserve to have his hostess drop dead and leave him stranded here.

She shoved at her dresser, the deep sleep making her clumsy and uncoordinated. When she finally got it out of the way, she stumbled down the hall toward the restroom. Then she stopped.

She smelled…maple syrup. Turning, she noticed the guest-room door was open. The bed was neatly made. Hopefully Raj hadn’t been waiting too long on her to get up. Curious, she bypassed the restroom and went instead to the great room. Another fire was raging in the hearth, bigger and stronger than any fire she’d ever managed to build. Turning to the kitchen, she found her castaway there, waiting for her arrival with a mug of hot coffee in his hand.

He was wearing a nicely snug pair of designer jeans and a fitted black
T-shirt this morning that she couldn’t picture coming from Frank’s old stash of clothes. The previous keeper had been sixty-seven when he retired and couldn’t tell Calvin Klein from Calvin and Hobbes. The clothes suited Raj, though. Every hard muscle she’d gotten an eyeful of the day before and in her dreams was straining against the cotton fibers of the shirt.

"
Good morning, Valerie. Did you sleep well?"

"
Yes, thank you." She took the cup from him and sipped it. It was good, strong coffee. Nothing like the preground beans Benny brought her from the grocery store. It was dark and thick, the caffeine so heavy her neurons immediately began firing more rapidly in her brain. "What kind of coffee is this?"

"
I believe they call it Turkish coffee," he said, suddenly appearing with a platter of homemade waffles garnished with fat, red strawberries, and a carafe of heated maple syrup.

It looked amazing, but she
was fairly certain she didn’t have a waffle iron. She also didn’t have fresh berries or whatever was needed to make Turkish coffee. Valerie watched Raj plate a waffle for her and pour the warm, thick syrup over it. She didn’t have real maple syrup in her pantry, either. Typically she could only afford the maple-flavored stuff.

The alarm bells were sounding in her head, but
she wasn’t sure what to do about it. As odd as some things seemed, there was a logical explanation for all of them. There had to be, because there was no such thing as magic or sorcerers or genies. Raj was crazy and extremely resourceful. Maybe he did wear the same size as Frank. Maybe there was an old waffle iron in the back of the cabinet she didn’t know about.

T
he rumbling in her stomach drew her to table anyway. He might be crazy, but he could cook. Everything looked and smelled wonderful. Given she’d slept with a shotgun nearby, how could she complain when the strangest thing the man had done was serve her an excellent breakfast, even if seemingly out of thin air?

He pulled out her chair.
"Sit, please. Enjoy."

"
You’re going to eat with me, aren’t you?"

"
If you desire me to."

"
Well yes, please. You went to all this trouble; you should enjoy it as well."

They sat down together to eat. It was literally the best waffle she’d had in her entir
e life. The outside was perfect and crispy, the inside fluffy and rich with butter and syrup. Normally she made herself oatmeal or poured a bowl of marshmallow cereal, so this was certainly a treat.

“Raj,” she said after taking the last bite of her waffle. “Where did you come up with all of this?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by the buzz of the dryer.

She remembered she was going to
get up early to do laundry, but she hadn’t. Raj stood, pushing back from the table and disappearing into the mudroom where her small washer and dryer were kept. A moment later he returned with a folded stack of her clothing.

"
You did a load of my laundry?" Her hamper was in the bathroom, so he had access to it, but it certainly wasn’t necessary.

"
No," he said, rounding the table to take the laundry to her room. "I did all your laundry."

All of it?
Valerie got up and followed him into her room. There, on the neatly made bed that had been a tangle of sheets when she left, were several tall stacks of her clothing. Far more than she had seen him carry in just now.

She braced her hand on the door
frame to keep the world from swaying while she tried to process all of it. It wasn’t possible. None of this was possible. She
didn’t
own a waffle iron. No one could make food and clothing appear from nowhere. Or build a fire and make the bed in a fraction of a second.