Who Wants to Be a Sex Goddess? (14 page)

BOOK: Who Wants to Be a Sex Goddess?
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There was a signal. He quickly texted a message and flipped the phone shut.

Ariadne was still sleeping when he returned. He replaced the phone inside the zippered pocket and knelt beside her.

He leaned over. Kissed her lightly, quickly. “I'm sorry,” he said, then gently shook her awake.

Chapter 13

D
illon dropped Ariadne off at her cabin and hurried toward the dorm. He was late, he was stunned, he was physically satisfied like he couldn't remember ever being.

And then he saw the group of men gathered just outside the dorm door. Rusty and Demetri stood apart from the others, and even from this distance, Dillon could tell they were arguing. He came back to reality with a thud.

He quickened his pace. Demetri was a typical bully. Lots of muscle and the need to prove it. He was shorter than Rusty, but outweighed him by a good fifty pounds. If there was a fight, there was no question who would win. Especially, since he was certain Demetri wouldn't fight fair.

He was fifty feet away, when Demetri shouted, “You little stool pigeon. I'll teach you not to mess with me.” He punched Rusty in the stomach. Rusty doubled over, and Demetri's fist caught him in the nose. Rusty's head snapped back. Blood spurted into the air and Rusty fell to his knees.

“Hey, cut it out,” yelled Dillon, breaking into a run.

Demetri grabbed Rusty by the shirt and hauled him to his feet. He managed to get another punch off before Dillon reached them. Rusty crumpled to the ground and stayed there.

Dillon grabbed Demetri by the shoulder. “I said—”

Demetri rounded on him, swinging. Dillon ducked. The momentum of the punch carried Demetri forward, and Dillon helped him along with a well-placed push.

Demetri staggered, fell to one knee, then hauled himself up. He turned to face Dillon, his fists clenched, his neck bulging with anger. He lunged.

Dillon hopped out of the way and Demetri fell to his face. A cheer rose from the group.

Demetri pushed to his hands and knees. Shook his head, then lurched to his feet.

“Don't do it,” said Dillon, his voice calm.

This time Demetri was more cautious, circling him like a drunken prizefighter.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dillon saw JoJo running across the lawn. Now there'd be hell to pay. So much for keeping a low profile.

“Watch out,” cried someone in the group, just as Demetri growled and threw himself at Dillon.

Dillon had no time to dodge. He brought up his forearm to block the attack. It caught Demetri under the chin. Dillon automatically followed it with a back fist to the eye. Demetri staggered back and sat down on the grass, just as JoJo arrived.

“Stop. Both of you. You know the rules about fighting.”

Dillon knew them. Immediate dismissal. He was fucked.

“It's not Dillon's fault,” slurred Rusty. He was being held up by two of the men. The front of his T-shirt was covered with blood. It trickled down his lip and chin and dropped on the ground at his feet.

JoJo's head snapped toward him. He winced. “Good God. Somebody take him inside and get some ice on his face.” He turned back to Dillon. “What the hell's going on?”

Everyone started talking at once. JoJo threw up his hands. “I'm asking Dillon. I'll hear from the rest of you later. Go inside. Now.”

Demetri got to his feet. He was looking murderous in spite of the hand cradling his jaw where Dillon had clipped him, and the rapidly reddening area around his eye.

JoJo heaved a disgusted sigh. “It's strike three for you, Demetri. You might as well start packing.”

Demetri snorted. “You can't fire me. Only Katherine Dane can. And she won't.”

“We'll see about that,” said JoJo. “Now, go get cleaned up for dinner.”

Demetri started toward the door, deliberately knocking into Dillon's shoulder as he passed by. “You're dead, asshole.”

JoJo jabbed his finger in Demetri's direction. “If I catch you hitting anybody, even a friendly pat on the ass, I'll call the Tahoe PD.”

“Yeah, right.” Demetri yanked the door open and went inside.

“Want to tell me what happened?” asked JoJo as soon as the door closed behind Demetri.

“I was coming across the lawn and saw Demetri throw the first punch. I just stepped in to keep Rusty from getting the shit beaten out of him.”

“Know what started it?”

“No. But Demetri called him a stool pigeon.”

JoJo nodded. “Someone reported him for taking presents from his goddess.”

“That must have been it,” said Dillon.

“Yeah, but it was inevitable. Those two have been oil and water since the first day they got here. I won't say I'm sorry to see the back of Demetri, but Rusty was a good worker, always polite, and the women love him.”

“He'll be dismissed, too? Demetri started the fight. Rusty never even got a shot off. There're witnesses.”

“Then he should be okay.”

“And me? I did get a punch off.”

“You? I just saw you trying to fend him off. I'll have to report the incident to Ms. Dane. And like Demetri said, she has the final word. But I wouldn't worry. Rusty was attacked, you interceded. All the fighting was on one side. And I'll make sure Katherine knows it. Now, I'd better go see about Rusty.”

He paused at the door. “If I were you, I'd stay away from Demetri until he's gone.”

 

Loubelle and Evelyn were sitting by themselves when Andy sat down at the dining table that night.

“You're looking awfully pretty tonight, Ariadne,” said Evelyn, putting down her wineglass. “Terra Bliss seems to sit well with you.”

Andy smiled slightly. She'd left off the pale makeup and was wearing her hair in the single braid, but tonight she let more tendrils fly loose around her face. But she felt disoriented. Off balance from the lightning changes of Dillon's mood. And she was feeling guilty for not putting all her energy into finding Mac.

“It's the glasses,” said Loubelle. “But, honey, can you see all right?”

“They got broken,” said Andy. “I can see. It's just that everything's a little fuzzy. And I have my dark glasses if I have to read something.”

“Well, if you need any help with anything, just ask,” said Evelyn.

“Thanks.”

Dillon appeared at her elbow and poured her a glass of wine. He didn't look at her and she didn't look at him, but she felt the heat rise to her cheeks. She just hoped it wasn't noticeable.

The other two women lifted their glasses in a toast. “Here's to us, and to Ariadne's first Spa Day at Terra Bliss,” said Evelyn. They clinked glasses.

Andy noticed that Jeannie's glass was filled, but untouched. “Where's Jeannie?”

“Fussing over Demetri.” Loubelle pointed across the room.

“Oh, my God,” said Andy. “He has a black eye.”

“Big as you please. Jeannie's administering TLC.”

“And finding out every detail of how he got it, if I know our Jeannie,” added Evelyn.

“How
did
he get it?”

“Probably walked into a door.”

“Oh, Evelyn,” Loubelle tittered. “He isn't the brightest. But don't tell Jeannie I said that.”

“Ah, here she comes,” said Evelyn and took a sip of wine.

Jeannie was coming all right, and she was in a fury. She marched up to the table, sat down, and snapped her napkin across her lap.

“I am mad as hops, and it's all your slave's fault.” She took a healthy gulp of wine and scowled at Andy.

“Mine?”

“Yes, yours.”

“Dillon?”

“I said so, didn't I?”

“He didn't say anything about it to me.”

“Well, he wouldn't, would he? He attacked my poor darling. They should throw his carcass out the front gates with only the clothes on his back.”

“They were fighting? I'm sure there must be some mistake. When did this happen?”

“This afternoon, just a couple of hours ago.”

“But he—” Andy couldn't very well tell them she'd been having raunchy sex with him all afternoon. She shrugged. “I can't believe he would do such a thing.” Though she had no doubt that he was capable of it.

Jeannie's head jerked toward Loubelle. “And it's all because of your slave,” she said. “I'm so mad I could spit.”

“What does Rusty have to do with it?” asked Loubelle. “Don't tell me, he helped Dillon give Demetri that black eye.”

Andy bit back a smile. It was the first time she'd seen Loubelle be anything other than sweet. There was definitely a glint of challenge in her usually mild blue eyes. “And where is Rusty? I hope he hasn't been hurt.”

“I'm sure he had nothing to do with it,” said Evelyn. “He probably pulled another assignment tonight.”

“He did too have something to do with it,” snapped Jeannie. “He started the whole thing.”

“I thought you said Dillon started it.”

“Well. Rusty started it, but Dillon did the hitting. And now they'll all be fired. Terra Bliss has very strict rules. Two slaves had to leave in the middle of last session just for arguing in front of the attendees.” Jeannie clamped her mouth shut as Louis came up with the salad tray.

He leaned over Evelyn and set a plate before her, giving her a friendly smile.

She smiled back. “And were you a part of the fight this afternoon?”

“Not me. But I was tempted. Fortunately Dillon interceded. And it was a good thing he did. Demetri would have beaten Rusty to a pulp.”

Loubelle gasped. “Is he hurt?”

“Just—” He looked over their heads and said hurriedly, “I'm not supposed to talk about it.” He set down the rest of the plates and left just as JoJo reached their table.

“Good evening, ladies. I came by to remind you that there will be a special presentation tonight after dinner. Dr. Bliss will speak on Jump-starting the New You.”

They murmured politely and JoJo moved on to the next table.

“Well, he nipped that quite nicely, didn't he?” said Evelyn. “Now, what do you say to Louis's version of the affair, Jeannie?”

“I think it's a conspiracy. They're all jealous of Demetri.” Jeannie reached for the wine bottle. It was empty. “Damn.” She put the bottle down, reached into her bag, and pulled out another. She raised her hand to summon someone to open it, then pulled it back.

“Ariadne, will you please ask your slave to open this wine?”

“Now, Jeannie,” said Evelyn. “Don't take it out on Ariadne. It isn't her fault that Dillon and Demetri are on the outs.” She caught Dillon's attention and nodded him over.

“The outs?
The outs
? You should see Demetri's face. It's a miracle that his nose isn't broken.”

Dillon stepped up to the table and efficiently uncorked the bottle. He poured a half inch for Jeannie to taste.

“Just pour,” she said through clenched teeth.

He filled each glass and walked away, just as Demetri approached with the tray of dinner plates.

He set the tray down on the dumbwaiter and glowered at the table. With Rusty absent, no one had thought to remove the salad plates. Dillon suddenly reappeared and quickly whisked them away. Neither man looked at the other, but the tension was almost visible between them.

They were all uncomfortably silent as Demetri served plates of steaming medallions of beef swimming in sauce. Except for Jeannie, who fretted and fawned over him until Andy was ready to smack her. She was pretty sure that his side of the story had left out a good deal of what actually had happened.

As soon as he left, Jeannie lapsed into brooding silence, darting evil looks at Dillon whenever she got the chance, and barely eating any of her food.

Loubelle and Evelyn tried to take up the slack by telling Andy about the lecture Dr. Bliss would be giving that evening.

“I heard it last year,” said Evelyn, “but she is such a forceful speaker, I think I'll go again. The topic is so interesting. Particularly for people with very low self-esteem.” She was careful not to look directly at Andy, but Andy knew what she was thinking.

“She's developed a variety of techniques for breaking down old expectations and opening your life to new experiences. She combines biofeedback, meditation, prayer, hypnotism, and several therapies that I can't remember.”

“Hypnotism?”

“It's used as an aid for breaking bad habits, like smoking and overeating, as well as psychological problems. Poor self-esteem is a bad habit.”

“It may be,” said Loubelle, “but I don't think hopping around like a rabbit or howling like a dog would do anything to enhance my self-esteem.”

Evelyn smiled. “Really, Loubelle, those things only happen on television. You can't make a person do anything under hypnotism that they wouldn't do under ordinary circumstances, though I can't speak from experience, never having been hypnotized myself.”

BOOK: Who Wants to Be a Sex Goddess?
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