waiting for you with Ms. Kannes. Right this way.”
The two biggest executives of the company were waiting for her. Not the Master and the Mistress. Nervous, she followed Léon down the hallway, running every detail of the show through her mind. However, the room where they waited was relaxed and comfortable. Victor lounged on red silk cushions at a low Japanese-style teak table with Mal across from him. The wine bottle had been open long enough for Mal to have a little extra smoke in her voice, while Victor…
Eyes blazing like molten sapphires, he reached up to lay claim to her arm and drew her down to sit beside him. “Thank you, Léon. Give us a half hour before serving. She needs to catch us up on what tomorrow holds.”
With a knowing wink, the young man bowed and shut the door.
“What’s your pleasure, red or white? Or Léon can bring you something from the bar.”
Her pleasure would be red, all red, her ass on fire. Somehow she managed to say, “Whatever you’re having,” around the tightness in her throat.
A muscle ticked in Victor’s cheek as though he’d heard her thoughts. He poured her a glass from the open bottle and then leaned back and dropped his arm around her.
His heat and scent enveloped her. He’d showered and changed, so unfair, and he smelled like soap and cotton hot from the dryer. Dressed in loose black drawstring pants and a matching tunic, he could almost be wearing pajamas. The Master almost managed to be as relaxed as he’d been after her massage last night.
“So are you heading down to Texas A&M for the big game this year?” Mal asked.
Casually, he rubbed the pads of his fingers over Shiloh’s bare arm. “I doubt it. Mama’s heading north for Thanksgiving this year with her mother, Miss Belle, to meet my little brother’s new girlfriend. She’s already nagging me to come with her.” He brushed his mouth against her cheek and she could barely keep back the sigh that threatened to escape. “What are you doing for Thanksgiving?”
“My mom remarried and lives in California. She always invites me, and I always refuse to go.”
Mal swirled her glass. “Family issues, or simply the long travel time?” Shiloh hesitated, and the other woman smiled apologetically. “Sorry, didn’t mean to get too personal. Although Mama despises my choice in men and V bitches and moans about how much his Mama nags him to get married and churn out those grandbabies, we’re both very close to our mothers. It saddens me when my friends are having family issues.”
She might have only really known these two for a few days, but the demands of running the show and its intense subject matter made Shiloh feel like they had the beginnings of friendship. Real friendship—the kind where people talked about old hurts that shadowed the soul. “My Dad passed away about fifteen years ago and he left a huge void in Mom’s life. She’d never lived on her own. She had no idea what their finances were like, how to pay bills, how much life insurance he had. Luckily Dad had seen to everything for her, but she just couldn’t bear to be alone. She needed a man to take care of things for her, and for her to cook and coddle.
“Randall fits the bill and he’s a nice enough guy. He has a huge extended family and she adores them all. I went out a few years ago and I didn’t know anybody. I felt really uncomfortable, and ever since…” Shiloh’s throat suddenly closed off. Horrified, she realized she’d almost told them her darkest secret, the thing she was most ashamed of.
The sadist in Victor perked up, hungry for pain and embarrassment, even if he hadn’t caused it. He shifted beside her and tilted her face up to his with his right hand. He didn’t have to order her to tell the rest; she couldn’t refuse the intensity burning in his eyes.
“The mentor I mentioned was actually one of Mom’s friends before she remarried. They’d had coffee a few times, but he was more interested in me.” She
The two biggest executives of the company were waiting for her. Not the Master and the Mistress. Nervous, she followed Léon down the hallway, running every detail of the show through her mind. However, the room where they waited was relaxed and comfortable. Victor lounged on red silk cushions at a low Japanese-style teak table with Mal across from him. The wine bottle had been open long enough for Mal to have a little extra smoke in her voice, while Victor…
Eyes blazing like molten sapphires, he reached up to lay claim to her arm and drew her down to sit beside him. “Thank you, Léon. Give us a half hour before serving. She needs to catch us up on what tomorrow holds.”
With a knowing wink, the young man bowed and shut the door.
“What’s your pleasure, red or white? Or Léon can bring you something from the bar.”
Her pleasure would be red, all red, her ass on fire. Somehow she managed to say, “Whatever you’re having,” around the tightness in her throat.
A muscle ticked in Victor’s cheek as though he’d heard her thoughts. He poured her a glass from the open bottle and then leaned back and dropped his arm around her.
His heat and scent enveloped her. He’d showered and changed, so unfair, and he smelled like soap and cotton hot from the dryer. Dressed in loose black drawstring pants and a matching tunic, he could almost be wearing pajamas. The Master almost managed to be as relaxed as he’d been after her massage last night.
“So are you heading down to Texas A&M for the big game this year?” Mal asked.
Casually, he rubbed the pads of his fingers over Shiloh’s bare arm. “I doubt it. Mama’s heading north for Thanksgiving this year with her mother, Miss Belle, to meet my little brother’s new girlfriend. She’s already nagging me to come with her.” He brushed his mouth against her cheek and she could barely keep back the sigh that threatened to escape. “What are you doing for Thanksgiving?”
“My mom remarried and lives in California. She always invites me, and I always refuse to go.”
Mal swirled her glass. “Family issues, or simply the long travel time?” Shiloh hesitated, and the other woman smiled apologetically. “Sorry, didn’t mean to get too personal. Although Mama despises my choice in men and V bitches and moans about how much his Mama nags him to get married and churn out those grandbabies, we’re both very close to our mothers. It saddens me when my friends are having family issues.”
She might have only really known these two for a few days, but the demands of running the show and its intense subject matter made Shiloh feel like they had the beginnings of friendship. Real friendship—the kind where people talked about old hurts that shadowed the soul. “My Dad passed away about fifteen years ago and he left a huge void in Mom’s life. She’d never lived on her own. She had no idea what their finances were like, how to pay bills, how much life insurance he had. Luckily Dad had seen to everything for her, but she just couldn’t bear to be alone. She needed a man to take care of things for her, and for her to cook and coddle.
“Randall fits the bill and he’s a nice enough guy. He has a huge extended family and she adores them all. I went out a few years ago and I didn’t know anybody. I felt really uncomfortable, and ever since…” Shiloh’s throat suddenly closed off. Horrified, she realized she’d almost told them her darkest secret, the thing she was most ashamed of.
The sadist in Victor perked up, hungry for pain and embarrassment, even if he hadn’t caused it. He shifted beside her and tilted her face up to his with his right hand. He didn’t have to order her to tell the rest; she couldn’t refuse the intensity burning in his eyes.
“The mentor I mentioned was actually one of Mom’s friends before she remarried. They’d had coffee a few times, but he was more interested in me.” She
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