 
Billionaire Season

Book One

The Long Hot Summer

By Kimball Lee

Copyright 2014 Kimball Lee

Smashwords Edition

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Chapter One

"So, your do-gooder daddy is taking in a homeless child for the summer? How old is she, twenty-two, twenty-three, young and malleable, just the way you like them? How dull, William, and how predictable, your father has a definite soft spot for his old girlfriends and their money grubbing offspring," Marisa said, her tone as sarcastic as usual.

"Are you including yourself in that group, Marisa?" William asked, her hands were on his shoulders, kneading, massaging, insinuating her way into his good graces. He sat with his back to her, peering out the immense glass doors at the far end of his office. The doors led to a narrow balcony perched precariously at the back of the once famous ocean liner and beyond its brass railings was the wide and muddy Mississippi River. A utilitarian and inelegant fleet of Warfield Shipping vessels nestled against the docks below, they sailed in from the Gulf of Mexico, unloaded their cargo and were back on their way to Hong Kong or Rotterdam or Balboa. "Your mother was a fling of my father's for all of six months and you've certainly made yourself at home and enjoyed the hospitality of the Warfield family for the last two years."

"Are you tired of me, William?" she said, swiveling his desk chair so that he was facing her as she sank to her knees and swept her bright copper hair away from her beautifully calculating face. "It seems to me that our parent's brief relationship was the best thing that happened for the two of us. I mean it, who else is going to play your dirty little games, fuck your brains out and keep you satisfied the way I do?"

"Get up, Marisa, my office door is open, anyone could walk in," he said, removing her deft little fingers from his zipper. He hoped she would stop but he knew that she wouldn't.

"I thought that was the way you liked it, in fact I know it's the only way you can get off. With that nasty little element of danger and exhibitionism and soon you'll most likely head down the treacherous road of pain with pleasure just like your brother. Don't try and deny it, William, I was there at The Cathedral two nights ago, I'm well acquainted with the mask you wear, a gold Venetian lion. The young lady you were with looked thoroughly—"chastised" shall we say? You know I've always loved your twisted brand of love making..."

"Fucking, Marisa, I fuck. Love and sex have nothing to do with one another. And I don't know what you think you saw but punishment is not my game, however I regret that it is my brother's way of life. Now if you'll excuse me I have to see my father today and it's a long drive out to bayou country."

"You're right, with you it's simply a physical act, sex, fucking, nothing more. You fuck so perfectly and so impersonally. Maybe that's the turn on, they say a hard cock has no conscience, well that's certainly true for your gloriously long hard cock. Still, I love when you're inside me, your magic fingers on my pussy, fucking hard and deep, anywhere, anytime. But that's over isn't it, we're over? I never deluded myself that you loved me, William, you're not capable of love. There's not a woman on this planet who could thaw that cold, cold heart of yours. You used to be so exciting, so infuriatingly self-absorbed and without a doubt the best fuck in town. Fuck me now, William. Or have you lost your edge. Has William Parrish Warfield the fourth let all the excitement and edgy hedonism of his scandalously subversive demons slip away?" She slipped onto his lap, straddling him, her skirt hiked up around her waist. He turned his face away when she bent to kiss him but he didn't stop her from freeing his erection. He ripped her thin panties off and slid his hands to cup her ass as she settled onto his length.

"You are an arrogant, soulless bastard," she moaned against his ear as she gripped his shoulders and rocked her clit against the base of his cock. "You're so cool and uninterested and yet you're diamond-hard and ready. Fuck!" she cried out as the orgasm washed over her and he covered her mouth with his hand and watched as his assistant passed by the open office door with a knowing smile and shake of her head.

"Thanks for stopping by, Marisa, I think we should consider this goodbye. And really, shouldn't you be spending more time with your mother in Reno or whatever provincial RV Park she went back to? Stay away from my father, you won't lure him into your bed. We have an unspoken agreement, he and I don't fuck the same women. It's better not to have them comparing the father and the son," he lifted her off his lap and helped straighten her clothes and then he stood and led her to the door.

"You didn't even let yourself come, you held back. Why is that William, to prove that you have ultimate control in all things including denying a woman the satisfaction of bringing you to orgasm? I was wrong about your cold heart," she said, pressing her lips to his before he could stop her. "You don't have a heart at all, just an empty space where your mother once lived and maybe a small space leftover for your crazy brother."

"Leave New Orleans, Marisa. This town isn't kind to women like you, and my brother is not crazy, so don't act like you know anything about him," he said. He saw her grimace as he wiped his lips with the back of his hand and she witnessed the raw fury blazing in his eyes.

*

"I want to exact a promise from you, William, a gentleman's agreement, so to speak. Man to man, father to son, give me your word you will not hurt this girl." His father was wearing his tennis whites and sipping a tall glass of whiskey. Cubes of ice clinked against a crystal glass that never left his hand, not even when the butler refilled it, nor did he offer William a drink.

"An agreement isn't necessary, Father, I have no interest in your latest charity project," William said, staring into his father's eyes and shocked at the depth of pain he witnessed there.

His father, William Warfield the third, wasn't known as a man with a soft spot for anyone, least of all his namesake son. He had never made a secret of his lukewarm love for his late wife or his shame over his younger son, Walden, both of whom had been plagued by mental instability. But he did continue to carry a torch for a girl he'd loved long ago, a girl he hadn't seen in almost thirty years, a girl who was dead now but whose only child was coming to New Orleans for the summer.

"Good... good. She's Liza's daughter, that's remarkable isn't it? Liza had an entire life, a life full of happiness with that repulsive hippie professor, a life without me..." William's father rambled on, lost again in one of his 'Liza ruined my life but I never stopped loving her' reveries.

"I really don't have time for this, Father, if you'll forgive me. I expect the girl will be staying with you here at Greenlea, so enjoy her company, dream of Liza, leave me out of it," William said bluntly. He had shrugged out of his suit jacket when he arrived, now he rolled up his shirt sleeves and loosened his tie.

His father was not yet sixty years old, tall, sturdy, strikingly handsome and immeasurably wealthy, and yet his obsession with his college sweetheart had rendered him as emotionally unhinged as his younger son and his late wife. Wills, as his father was called, had more money than a sane man could spend in several lifetimes but he was a miser about the most trivial things. Like the wet Louisiana heat filtering oppressively into the monstrously large plantation house where he lived. He paid dozens of servants to keep it in immaculate order and yet he refused to install central air conditioning. Instead he relied on vintage paddle-type ceiling fans to stir what little air drifted off the Bayou Teche and in through the multitude of open French doors.

He's lost his grip on reality, just like my mother and brother; how long before I succumb? William wondered, although he never intended to. He had a few sexual hang-ups, that was all and it wasn't anything sadistic or particularly scandalous, so, no problem. His sanity was firmly intact, he would not be caught in the furtive net of lunacy that had settled over his family.

"I need you to collect her from the airport, William. I can't send for her, it lacks southern hospitality. I don't think Liza ever came back to the South, so I doubt that her daughter has been in our corner of the world. The girl is from the north, a Yankee I suppose you'd say. Berkley, California and all that liberal love-the-one-you're-with nonsense.... and you know I don't leave the property, so run along and fetch her, hurry please." He said, clicking open the cover of his gold pocket watch, checking the time and then pointing a long finger to the massive cypress-wood front doors.

"You want me to drive to the airport and then what, bring her all the way back out here to the middle of nowhere? You have a garage full of cars and a driver, Father, and really now, growing up in California does not make her a Yankee."

"She isn't from here; that makes her... different from us. I'm not asking you, William, I'm insisting. Do me the favor of entertaining her this evening, let the girl spend the first night at the townhouse and then bring her to meet me in the morning. She'll be working in the city so I'd like for you to set her up in a large suite on the ship. Is that asking too much, can you not do a handful of simple favors for me, son?"

"It's summer, Father, more than likely the ship is booked to capacity. It's become the most sought after hotel in New Orleans, and I doubt that you'll ever give me credit for the idea of turning a defunct cruise ship into a luxury dock-side hotel."

"Yes, yes. It was an excellent idea, my grandparents traveled to America for the first time on that very ship, it was in 1935. My father was an infant in his mother's arms on the journey and years later when the legendary ocean liner was offered for sale at auction he bought it and gave it his mother's title. He left the ship languishing in dry-dock in Rotterdam for years, who'd have ever imagined... but of course you did, didn't you? Bravo, William, a remarkable idea, putting the old girl to use the way you have. The Countess Warfield is one of the finest testaments to passenger liners the Cunard Line ever built and now she's a five star hotel on the banks of the Mississippi River. Well, hurry off now, won't you? Alaina will be waiting, that's her name, Alaina, but I can't for the life of me remember her last name. She'll be waiting at our hangar, I sent the jet for her, all the way to San Jose International... Liza's hair was blonde, very natural, like the sun setting on a field of wheat, she had the most endearing freckles on her nose. I wonder if the girl looks anything like her mother. An extraordinary beauty, a quiet sort of beauty, softly innocent, that was how she stole my heart. I was honestly captivated, her loveliness caught me by surprise..."

*

Fuck! William actually said the word out loud as he careened in and out of traffic, the windshield wipers on his Maserati working overtime in the blinding downpour. He steered into the New Orleans airport and bypassed the commercial terminals heading off to the side at breakneck speed toward the cluster of private hangars. He roared to a stop, tires screeching against the hot wet asphalt as the rain beat down pelting his car like rapid gunfire. His phone rang for probably the twentieth time in less than an hour and he finally answered since it was his assistant, Tanya, and not his irksome father.

"What's going on?" He asked impatiently, holding the phone to his ear and fishing under the seat for the umbrella that was usually there.

"Impromptu get together tonight at The Cathedral, how should I RSVP? Judging from the irritation level in your voice it sounds like you could use an evening of anything goes/anonymous sex, William. The invite came directly from your brother, he wants to see you and have a brotherly chat. Have you picked up the Yankee/hippie-chick yet, is she a little wallflower or a spitfire, tell me, tell me, I'm dying to know!" Tanya laughed her boisterous no-holds-barred laugh.

"Very funny, don't be a bigot, she's a Californian, and no, I don't have her yet. It's raining like hell won't have it and I can't find my damned umbrella. I think I'll just sit here in the car and maybe she'll get on the jet and go back home. I have an uneasy feeling my father will lose interest in her and I'll be expected to babysit for the rest of the summer. God, what a thought. Give Walden a firm maybe for the gathering tonight, he and I haven't talked in a while, I should check on him, make sure he's not too close to the edge. By the way, I have no intention of mentioning the girl to my little brother. Let's make that a top priority. I don't have the vaguest idea what she's like but I can say with absolute certainty she has no business stumbling into his deviant world."

"You'll get no argument from me, only veteran deviants like the two of us belong in your brother's subversive playground. Seriously, you do sound incredibly tense right now, boss. I'll give Walden a definite yes, you can wander among the fine upstanding 'Southern Gentility' while they play their parlor games and you're sure to feel a little less uptight about any secret fantasies you might have. Decide how far you want to go once you get there, lose your worries while giving and taking pleasure from one of the eagerly willing nubile hotties. Or do what I do, play the voyeur, live vicariously through the perversion of others, its good clean fun. I'll be there tonight, just to let you know, so give me a little space and I'll do the same for you," Tanya said, laughing again as the 'oh so dignified' William Warfield cursed under his breath.

"Fuck it all, here she comes, soaking wet and smiling like Rebecca of fucking Sunnybrook Farm. Later," William said, tossing the cell aside and jumping out of the car to meet her as the relentless rain beat down on them.

He popped the trunk and the steward from the jet hurriedly placed Alaina's tattered duffel bag in the Maserati while William held the passenger door open for her. He wasn't sure if it was the rain cascading over her honey-blonde waist length hair or the short pleated skirt and knee-high pink rubber boots she wore, but he was suddenly aroused which greatly added to his irritation. She leaned into the car but didn't move to get in and the wet skirt clung to the most perfectly curved little ass he'd ever seen.

"I shouldn't do this, come with you, I mean," she said leaning inside the car anyway, drawn to the aroma of luxuriant Italian leather. The car was amazing, unlike any she'd ever seen before, it was all polished burled wood and pristine leather, she really did want to slip into the butter soft seat and shut out the shroud of grey rain. "I'll ruin everything, your car, the leather seats... I'm soaking wet, let me just take a cab... or something, really," she said, standing to face him as the torrent slowed to a thick steady drizzle. Holy shit he's gorgeous! Those were the exact words that flashed in her mind as she peered up into eyes so deeply brown they appeared to be black. He had a dangerous look about him, like the beautiful bad boys with killer foreign accents in movies. His father was Danish, she recalled her mother having said that, but his looks were more darkly exotic and he had those brooding eyes that couldn't be described without using the word piercing. He looked as if Colin Ferrell, Henry Cavill and Jon Snow had been photo shopped into a single perfect specimen of a man. Only this man was right here standing impossibly close to her and he was without a doubt irresistibly blood-heating panty-dropping heart-hauntingly gorgeous. Damn.

"Get in," he said, menacing eyes sweeping over her, his voice deep and low with a slow southern drawl.

She opened her mouth to object but the look of displeasure on his perfect face stopped her words.

She sat dripping on the impeccable cream leather seat and watched as he crossed in front of the car, a tall broad shouldered figure in the haze. He wore a suit and tie even though it was at least a hundred degrees outside and the rain seemed to be the wettest rain she'd ever known.

"Dry off," he said sharply when he was in the car, he slid effortlessly behind the wheel, closed the door and handed her a folded blanket from the backseat.

"This is Hermes," she whispered holding the buttery soft cashmere in her hands. "It's an Hermes throw, cashmere, it costs, like, three thousand dollars. I shouldn't get it wet..."

"This is a Maserati, you shouldn't get it wet, use the throw, please," William said and his tone left no room for argument.

"I'm Allie... Darling," she said, handing him the throw when she had dried off as best she could.

"I'm William... sweetheart. If we're going to be that familiar, Allie darling. William Warfield... the son." He said, raking his fingers through his short jet-black hair, the edges of his enticing mouth lifting into a slightly amused but still irritated smile.

"Oh, no! No, that's my name, I thought you knew. Of course it wasn't a term of endearment at all, I swear. That's my last name, Darling. Alaina Darling. Allie. There's no way that I'd call you darling, William, but that goes without saying, right... Mr. Warfield? Sorry, sorry, I'm just here for an internship... for the summer, and your dad was nice enough to arrange it all," she babbled on seemingly oblivious that her small round breasts were perfectly visible under the thin wet t-shirt she wore.

"I see, Miss Darling, well that's good to know. My father harbors some unrealistic romantic fantasies about your late mother... and by the way I'm sincerely sorry for your loss. Anyway, I'm sure my father would welcome any 'term of endearment' you might care to throw his way. I, on the other hand, am not interested in exchanging inane niceties or swayed by romantic fantasies. Now, the roads are rather slick thanks to this infernal rain and my father's estate is more than an hour from the city so you won't meet him until tomorrow. He doesn't leave his estate, agoraphobia or something to that effect, but I suppose you know that. So, I have... my family has a modest townhouse in the French Quarter, you should be comfortable there for the night. I'll see to it that you're situated and then I'll be on my way," he said decisively, glancing into her unabashedly sincere grey-green eyes. Her hair was drenched from the incessant rain but it was still the color of fine corn silk and she wore no makeup to hide her creamy skin. There were pale golden freckles sprinkled across her small straight nose and somehow that fact combined with her large softly questioning eyes clutched at his heart just as the memory of Liza refused to release its grip on his father. He turned away quickly, caught off guard by a sudden ravenous stirring of physical need. He was glad the cashmere throw rested on his lap, he had an unwelcome and severely uncomfortable erection. Allie Darling was indeed young, probably twenty-one or two and she was definitely a wide-eyed innocent, not William's type by a long shot.

Chapter Two

"Cool house, amazing actually," Allie said, her senses overwhelmed as William ushered her into the vast residence he described as modest. "When was it built? We have these great historic buildings in northern California, especially in Monterey and Carmel, but this house is breathtaking." You're breathtaking. Allie wanted to say, he had grabbed one of his jackets from the hall tree and draped it over her shoulders, peering down at her with his unreadable intensely dark gaze. Then he lingered close to her for a moment as if he were about to say something or maybe he was just sizing her up. The jacket smelled of him, spicy and seductive, and something deep, deep inside her clinched deliciously and sent a shot of adrenaline coursing through her bloodstream.

"The original house was built in 1734, it survived the Great New Orleans fire of 1788 that wiped out most of the Quarter, but it was burnt to its foundation in a subsequent fire in 1795. The present structure was rebuilt the following year and it's weathered every hurricane and natural disaster since. My grandfather acquired this townhouse as a residence for my father when he was a student at Tulane University, and I suppose he considered it a sound investment as well, which it certainly proved to be. Miss Hawkins must be here somewhere, she'll get you situated, I have plans for the evening." He said, his tone changing in an instant from cordial to business-like as he peeled off his jacket and tie and dumped them and his wet shoes in a pile at the foot of the stairs. "Hawkins!" he called out and a young woman scurried into the foyer and explained that it was Miss Hawkins day off. It was Monday and the entire staff had the day off, she went on, and she alone had remained in the house because the rainstorm had frightened her and she was watching a new and exciting episode of The Bachelorette.

"Fine, Ginny, fine. Go back to what you were doing, I'll deal with this myself. This is Alaina, she'll be here for the night," he said and Ginny blushed and covered her mouth to stifle a fit of giggles. "She's not here with me, she's a family friend. Just... if she needs anything make yourself useful, Ginny. Never mind, forget it, don't let us disturb your TV viewing."

"I should go to a hotel, this is way too much trouble. Honestly, I can afford it and you have plans. I'm dying to get out and walk around the French Quarter and here I am right in the middle of it. Please, William, don't let me take you away from your everyday life and your plans," she said, dragging her fingers through her damp scruffy hair.

His heart seized for a split second at the sound of his name on her pouty lips. It sounded so sweet and pure, free from the burdens usually heaped on it when his father or his business colleagues or the women who waltzed in and out of his life called him William. It was startling really, the pretty way she said it, even when he was a boy and his mother was alive she had spat out his name as if it burned her tongue.

"No. I can't allow you to wander these streets, the sun's going down and you're a beautiful young woman all alone. Safety's an issue in the French Quarter these days, Alaina, things have changed since Hurricane Katrina. There are undesirable elements..." He picked up her duffle bag and scaled the gracefully curved staircase two steps at a time. He glanced back at her as they reached the third floor landing and she looked exasperated. Her bottom lip was full and pink and it was all he could do to keep from running his tongue across it as she stood there pouting. She probably wasn't really pouting but that damned luscious mouth certainly was begging for his attention.

"I'm twenty-two and a college graduate, I think I can do a bit of sight-seeing in New Orleans without getting into trouble. And seriously, I wish you'd call me Allie. Alaina is an old fashioned poetic name my parents saddled me with. I prefer Allie," she said and she brushed past him when he opened the door to a large bedroom with tall arched French windows and charmingly sloped ceilings.

"You're twenty-two?" he asked, leaning back against the door frame as he watched her move gracefully through the room, her delicate fingers skimming the surface of antique chests and tables and the tasseled fringe on the toile de jouy drapes. She crossed to the decadent four-poster bed, sat on the mattress with her hands at her sides and bounced a few times with a blissful smile.

"Almost, well, I will be in November. This room is like something from a fairytale, a French fairytale, like Beauty and the Beast... This bed is huge, I bet I could get lost in all these whisper-soft linens." She held a feather bed pillow to her cheek and closed her eyes with thick fringed lashes resting against her cheeks as her voice trailed off. Her eyes fluttered open just as he jerked the shirt-tail from the waistband of his pants and her breath caught in her throat when she glanced down at his enormous erection just before the hem of his shirt covered it from view.

"November is a long way off, it's barely June, Miss Darling, you're most definitely not twenty-two. I'll let you get situated... make yourself at home. The bathroom is well stocked I'm sure, and it has a steam room and... I don't know what all, but get comfortable. Get dressed, I meant to say, we'll go have some dinner. Just wander downstairs when you're ready, I'll have a shower and change and then I'll meet you in the... downstairs... downstairs living room," he stumbled a bit over the words as she slipped off the bed, crossed the room and stood staring out the gracefully arched window. She didn't turn to face him but kicked off her rubber boots and began to carelessly weave her damp hair into a single thick braid.

"It's almost dark outside and the rain has stopped," she said. "I'm still on California time, seems like it should be the middle of the day. Just so you know, I graduated in the top two percent of my class at UC Berkley and I did it in only three and a half years. " She turned to face him, to look right in his eyes and let him know that she had indeed witnessed his arousal, but he'd already gone. The sight of his erection was imprinted on her brain and picturing it sent that electric jolt of endorphins or adrenaline or lust thundering from the pit of her stomach to the center of her sex. She'd only just met the man and she'd never been gung-ho about sex in the first place and yet here she was, short of breath and tingling and wetter in some places than she had ever been before.

*

The rain had moved on and thankfully it had left none of its usual humidity behind. The bright full moon hung above the slate roofs of the tightly clustered townhouses in the Vieux Carre, or French Quarter as it was more commonly called. Allie begged William to walk with her rather than driving to the restaurant and he had put on his stern face at first but eventually he caved. They left his house on St. Louis Avenue and turned onto Bourbon Street with Allie demanding to try one of the infamous NOLA Hurricanes.

William wanted to tell her no, that the drink contained an ungodly amount of alcohol and she was too young to handle it. He had no right to dictate what this unknown girl drank or ate or did while she was in his city. But he felt responsible now that his father had basically dumped her in his lap and fuck if that image didn't stir up his libido again. And what the hell was that all about? He had sex with women, a lot of women, but it was simply a physical release and they certainly didn't cause his cock to react like he was thirteen instead of twenty-eight. She was twenty-one and looked younger, on top of that she seemed completely unaware of how unintentionally sexy she was. She walked beside him touching his arm now and then to stress some point she was making as she spoke and it affected him. She wore a short floaty sundress with the half-moon tops of her small high breasts just visible above the bright fabric. A little white sweater was tied at her waist and she wore flat sandals with leather laces at her ankles. Her toenails were polished bright blue with tiny palm trees and a sunset cleverly painted on them. She was intoxicating in the most simple and wholesome and elemental way.

William had his choice of women, thanks to his striking good looks and family name and fortune. But he avoided romantic relationships. His parent's ruinous marriage and combative attitude toward each other coupled with his father's tiresome insistence on carrying the proverbial torch of undying love for Liza had soured him on the idea of love and monogamy. He kept his interaction with women purely social or purely sexual, never combining the two. He attended society functions with young women from suitable families and had sex with anonymous women he met at The Cathedral or happened upon in the course of the day or night. Women whose names he didn't care to know, which wasn't an issue since they were drawn to the wild carnal hunger in his eyes and blatant erection outlined in his finely tailored pants. He reached out to the unknown beauties and one or more took it with wildly heated blood and they followed him to barely secluded hallways, alleys, elevators, park benches or any place where their sexual acts might possibly be discovered. That was his need; the risk, the anonymity, the lack of emotion. The excitement of fucking women he would never see again and the possibility discovery amidst the undercurrent of danger in the seedier parts of his native city.

This girl, Alaina Darling, Allie, was not one of those women. He doubted that she'd ever had sex with a stranger or in any position other than missionary. Of course looks could be deceiving, but he'd be willing to bet she was a 'nice girl' with one or two boyfriends left behind in her home town and no desire to explore her sexual limits. It was really too bad, he mused, and then he wiped the thought away quickly. She really was a stunning beauty. Her hair proved to be a light shade of honey shot through with darker golden highlights and that wide pouty mouth made him want to lift her lips to his and taste her sweetness. Her body was disarmingly enticing, long and lithe and yet softly curved in all the places where a man's hands and mouth and cock might take pleasure. She had the hypnotic eyes of a dove, bottomless and soulful, the kind of eyes that promised respite and understanding, but he doubted that she would understand or condone his sexual proclivities.

"I want a Hurricane in an outrageously tall glass from one of those touristy looking bars," she laughed at the look of disbelief on William's face when he explained that there would be fine wine and decent cocktails at the restaurant. And what a face it was, he had shaved his sexy stubble and his hair was slicked back from his shower. He smelled of that clean hot spicy male scent that had planted itself in some primal part of Allie's brain. It was a smell that made her want to reach up and bury her face in his neck and maybe taste his skin on her tongue and then rest her hands against the firm wall of his chest and move them lower...

"Alright, Allie Darling, here you go. One obnoxious and probably poisonous Hurricane," he said, handing her the unsavory drink as the corners of his delectable mouth turned up into a quizzical smile.

She took it from him with a huge grin and then she stretched up onto her tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek, he turned just then and their lips brushed lightly. He had to reach out and steady her as she gasped at the current that passed between them and again his brows knitted in annoyance before he stepped back and stared down at her.

"Thanks for the drink," she said and it was barely more than a whisper. They walked a few blocks in silence and then he hailed a cab that whisked them to the Restaurant August on Tchopitoulas Street.

*

"Good evening Jacob, any chance you still have a twenty-ten Screaming Eagle Sauvignon Blanc?" William handed the wine list back to the sommelier without having opened it as soon as they were seated in a quiet corner of the restaurant.

"Yes sir, we have a single bottle reserved especially for you. This must be a special evening, would you care for oysters on the half shell with that, Mr. Warfield? They've just arrived, and they are indeed exceptional this evening." William could see that Jacob was trying not to stare openly at the lovely Miss Darling and her small but fascinating cleavage but it was no use, he couldn't take his eyes off her.

"We'll start with a dozen, thank you," William said taking note of the slight wrinkling of Allie's nose as if she'd smelled something unpleasant. "Let me see, Alaina, are you displeased because I disposed of your ridiculously gaudy street-vendor cocktail or do you have a distaste for fine wine?"

"Oysters, I don't want to look at them much less put one in my mouth," she said and he had to hold his long fingers to his lips to keep from smiling.

"I see, well, you're in the Big Easy now. It's sacrilege to refuse to eat a plump fresh oyster, but I suppose if you have trouble putting certain distasteful delicacies in your mouth, then I wouldn't want to force you."

Her eyes widened and her cheeks burned scarlet as her pretty mouth dropped open and she uttered just one word, "Oh!"

"I think you should try it at least once, eating oysters, that is. The chef here at Restaurant August has access to the most proprietary oyster beds along the Gulf coast. They're smooth and creamy with the most delicate flavor, it's like taking a bit of cool ambrosia onto your tongue and swallowing."

"Ambrosia?" she asked, as Jacob returned and poured the cold white wine and waited until William tasted it and nodded his head.

"Ambrosia, the food of the gods," William said, smiling slightly as she sipped the cold wine and a look of satisfaction settled over her delicate features. "I assume you approve of the wine?"

"It's remarkable, it sort of evaporates in my mouth but I can still taste the distinct flavors. Yes, I like it very much, and I don't usually care for wine, you know, it's kind of sour mostly, but this is seriously delicious," she said, finishing off her glass in a few gulps so that Jacob was there in an instant to refill it.

I'll bet you're seriously delicious and I intend to taste every part of you. William had to literally shake the thought from his head, what the fuck? He was not interested in girls who were starry-eyed and barely out of college; it was like the old cliché of letting the small head think for the big head. In this case his cock was fucking dictating, (interesting word, "dick-tating") nonstop images of Allie naked and in a tantalizing array of positions.

"Tell me about the internship that brought you to New Orleans Alaina, it must be important for you to have left your life in California behind." He said, although he didn't know why it mattered. Tomorrow she would be his father's guest for the rest of the summer and other than Tanya, who was the closest thing he had to a best friend, he didn't ask women about their private lives.

"I'm here to work for the Southern Gothic Literary Society. I just got my bachelor of arts in American Literature from UC Berkley. In the fall I'll either go back to Berkley or maybe to Tulane to start on my master's degree. I've been accepted to both schools to do my post-grad work, I'll have to make that choice before the end of summer. Berkley is my home but it would be conducive to my field of study to be immersed in the culture that influenced so many extraordinary American authors. So, to answer your question, I'm going to be delving into musty files containing notes and secrets about the lives of Southern writers. I could do my graduate thesis on Faulkner or Tennessee Williams, but most likely I'll choose a female author, either Carson McCullers or Eudora Welty.

A server placed a pewter tray on the damask covered table and it was laden with oysters in their shells nestled into a bed of crushed ice with a sauce that smelled of fresh horseradish and limes.

"How do I do this, can I just swallow it whole? I don't think I want to bite into it," Allie said, holding the oyster on a little three-pronged fork and waiting expectantly for William's instructions as if he knew the answer to every question in the universe.

"Like this," he said, scooting his chair half way round the table so that he sat next to her. "Squeeze the lime over it, dip it in sauce, savor it on your tongue for a moment, chew and then swallow. If you swallow it without biting into it you won't really taste it, then all the locals will know you're an amateur." They laughed easily as the wine loosened their inhibitions and he wrapped his fingers around hers to guide her hand and stared into her eyes as she tasted the briny mollusk. They both felt the energy crackle in the space between them as they touched and she closed her eyes and swallowed and then smiled.

"It's interesting, unlike anything I've ever tried before. I like it," she smiled and it was a smile that made her eyes sparkle and lit up her face.

William cleared his throat and moved his chair back to its original spot far across the table from Allie. The simplest look or gesture or word from this girl set his blood on fire, it was an experience he'd never known until now and it left him completely off balance. He needed sex... hard, merciless, uninvolved sex and he needed it soon. He intended to have dinner with Alaina, drop her off at his house and then go to The Cathedral. He didn't need to let his wayward cock have what it was suddenly craving. He absolutely did not need to lead Alaina Darling down the garden path or any other place where he would be forced to push up her flimsy dress and jerk her panties aside and let his fingers bring her to the brink of...

"Aren't you going to indulge? I mean you were so insistent, you're not going to let me go it alone are you? Because I'd hate to finish them off all by myself, come on and join me William, have an oyster."

A few drops of wine glinted on her bottom lip and he reached out and brushed them away with the back of his fingers. It sent a shiver of white-hot desire straight to her core. She had the urge to stop his hand before he could take it away, to pop his finger into her mouth and find out if he tasted as heady and sensual as the oysters. She had the distinct feeling that he would taste like sex and not just the "bad sex is better than no sex" kind she was used to. He had already stoked a fire in her belly and in the tender secret depths that her dull but endearing college boyfriend never had.

"What would you like for your main course, Alaina? I hate to rush through dinner but I do have to meet my brother soon. I think you'll like the grilled red-snapper topped with fried soft-shell crab, let's order and I'll take you home... I'll see that you're settled at the townhouse, I meant. Then I really have to take care of some business."

"I didn't know you had a brother," she said and she sounded confused, as if he'd just told her she was boring him to death. Which she most assuredly was not in the slightest bit, sooooo- time to put a stop to their useless flirtation.

He ordered the food while she stared down at her pale hands and then he excused himself, stepped outside and dialed Miss Hawkins number. "Hawk, how the hell can you be off tonight? I need you. My father has left me with the girl from California and I don't have the slightest fucking idea what to do with her."

"Uh-oh! Calm down William, I'm here, I'm available. Ginny poked her head in my front door and said she feared for the poor girl's safety with you eyeing her like a wolf. Where are you and what have you done to that girl?" Beth Hawkins laughed hearing the alarm in William's voice, it was a sound she hadn't heard from him since she'd caught him masturbating as a teenager. Her mother had gone to work as governess for William and his brother shortly before Beth married and left home. Later Beth had worked part time for William, but then she was widowed early on without children to fill her days so she agreed to run his household full time. He had remodeled the carriage house on his property to her specifications and she was happy there in what she considered her cozy little jewel box in the middle of the old city.

"We're having dinner but I'm bringing her home and you can deal with her. Shit, what was my father thinking bringing a beautiful... young... innocent... woman into our world for the summer? He's losing his mind, you realize that, right? My father had better be prepared to take her off my hands tomorrow by God. Hawk, are you still there? Don't move, don't leave the house, I'm dumping her into your care in fifteen minutes."

"My, my, I don't believe I've ever heard William Warfield the fourth sound quite so unhinged. Interesting to say the least. I'll be waiting," she said and he could her laughing steadily as she hung up the phone and he wondered, why do the women I trust the most find my predicaments so amusing?

Chapter Three

William took a cab to the edge of the warehouse district and walked the last few shadowy blocks to The Cathedral. A pair of drugged-out hollow-eyed thugs stepped out of a narrow alleyway and blocked his path, both of them shaking and with nervous grins.

"Fuck off," William growled, facing them with a menacing glare that transformed his handsome features.

He reached into his jacket and the two men backed up and ran off down the reeking alley and William sighed and kept walking. He pulled a red keycard from his pocket and swiped it when he reached a heavily carved door and then he entered The Cathedral. Inside the air glowed with a reddish hue from hundreds of pink bulbs in dimly lit chandeliers and wall sconces. They hung in the many wood-paneled rooms that radiated like the spokes of a wheel from the main salon. On the outside the building was a nondescript mid-nineteenth century shipping warehouse but inside it was something else entirely. Warfield shipping owned more than a dozen historic buildings scattered over several blocks near the river and Walden Warfield had claimed the largest and most imposing of the lot. Over the past year, with his sanity mostly intact, Walden had transformed a crumbling brick warehouse into a highly elite and decorously private club he called a 'sexual sanctuary'.

Abigail, the club's Director, appeared as soon as William closed the heavy cypress door, and she offered him an inlaid silver box but William shook his head. She smiled and stepped through an ornate wrought iron gate, placed the silver box on a shelf lined in black suede and then she locked the gate and joined William in the grand entry hall. She took his hand and pressed her lips to his palm and then he followed her through a maze of narrow hallways to an antique brass cage-like elevator.

Abigail was twenty-three years old, loyal and in love with Walden, and she was the only person he trusted to keep his secrets as well as the keys to the iron gate. For members to enter the salons within The Cathedral they first came under Abigail's scrutiny. If she detected the slightest hint of drunkenness, an irritable attitude or an angry demeanor, they were told to return when they were in a more suitable frame of mind.

She wore a short Grecian style dress sewn from the sheerest gauze-like fabric and on her small feet were pale pink ballet slippers that tied at the ankles with silk ribbons. Silken cords of the same pale pink crisscrossed and bound her small waist. Her bare little pussy was visible through the thin fabric and she smiled up at William and spoke quietly.

"You don't want your mask tonight or a red jacket?" she asked, her lilting creole accent was heavy and very beautiful William had always thought. She was Tanya's younger sister, both of them were native New Orleanians, their lineage was an exquisite mix of cultures going back to city's very beginnings. Abigail and Tanya were two of the most strikingly beautiful women William had ever known, their exotic looks defined by their African, French, Spanish and Caribbean ancestors.

"No, I'm only going to see Walden," he said as the ancient elevator rose slowly to the top floor. "Well, I suppose you could send the mask and jacket up here just in case," he said cocking an eyebrow as he smiled down at the petite young woman.

"But of course, chere, ooh la la!" She said, using the French endearment "chere" with a Cajun twang that sounded like "shar". She tapped lightly on the office door, "He's not well, I worry for him," she said and then she twirled around and disappeared back into the caged elevator.

"Wills, come in! Fuck, why don't I give all this up and settle down with Abigail, right? Someday, someday, bro. Fuck, I'm in love with her, but it comes and goes so who knows! What's up what's shakin' where the fuck have you been? Man I've been calling you, I need to talk, like TALK, William, talk!" Walden hugged his brother as if he hadn't seen him in years and then he sank back into a black leather desk chair and covered his face with his hands.

"Walden, look at me," William said, kneeling in front of his brother and prying his hands away so he could study his eyes. "Are you off your meds? Tell me the truth, I need to know what you're on. It's not something you can fuck around with, Walden. You have to take your medication as prescribed and you can't be mixing it with street drugs and whiskey."

"I'm not, I'm not, I swear I'm not taking that fucking drain cleaner rot-gut rat poison they sell on the streets. I don't even take the shit the girls offer me, either. And man, they have everything, these little society chicks, whoa, fuck me! They have oxy and Vicodin and this one chick who's married to... shit I don't know, the coach of the Saints or some pro golfer or whatever the fuck... What was I saying? Oh yeah—she can still get fucking Quaaludes! I'm talking 'ludes man, and anything else you want, you fucking name it. Look at this place Wills, it's fucking rockin' and the girls, the women, they're freaks, man I'm in heaven. I've got the fucking mayor's daughter strapped face down on a metal table right now, fuck, I forgot about her, I need to get in there and give her what she wants... I'm kinda messed up tonight, Wills, will you take care of her? She likes it hard and deep and dirty," he said, looking up at William with a silent plea screaming in his eyes.

They were so alike in looks, the same chiseled features, same dark hair and intense brown eyes, both of them six foot three, broad-shouldered and slim hipped. The resemblance ended there, Walden was a wild card, a renegade and most of the time a runaway train wreck. William valued control in all situations both private and personal and only allowed himself a modicum of freedom where sex was concerned. There was little more than a year's difference in their ages, Walden was exactly thirteen months younger. Unlucky thirteen William had ruminated for most of their lives. His younger brother attracted misfortune, he was accident prone and had suffered broken bones, stitches, several concussions, a ruptured appendix and even a poisonous snakebite. And then sadly there was the main event, the defining moment of Walden's star-crossed life, the abduction and their mother's subsequent death that had shaped his psychosis.

"Walden," William said, finally settling into a low baroque chair near his brother's desk. "I want you to go back to Lausanne for a few months, just until the end of summer possibly. Lake Geneva is incredible at this time of year, you can go sailing and sort things out in your head. Your thoughts and emotions are getting away from you right now, Dr. Selig can help you put all the pieces back in place. Where do you keep your meds, let me see the bottles, this isn't a game, you can't play games with your mind and your health."

"No, you're right, I should be more careful," he said, unlocking a desk drawer and tossing a half dozen pill bottles into William's lap. "Lithium, Seroquel, Risperdal, Xanax, etcetera, etcetera, fucking bullshit placebos. But no need for Viagra, thank you very much, my dick stays so hard a cat couldn't scratch it," he laughed at that and at the look of worry on William's face. "I'm okay, Wills, I'll make it through. I'll never get over it, that's all. I dream about Mother, she's a ghost now and she's haunting me and she's so... hateful and cold. I hate ghosts and she won't stay away so I just live with it and every once in a while the punishment gets out of hand."

"Please don't call me Wills, I'm not our father and I'll never be over it either. Mother died, we didn't, and so we go on. Everyone has their cross to bear, didn't you pay attention in Sunday school?" William looked through the pill bottles and it was obvious that Walden hadn't been taking the anti-psychotics. That was bad news and when William realized his brother was no longer babbling he looked up and was shocked. Walden had removed the black shirt he wore and his chest and stomach were covered with angry red slash marks that had broken the skin and were caked with dried blood. "Walden, what have you done?"

"Oh shit, fuck man, it's hot in here isn't it? I'm fucking burning up and I itch like a son of a bitch. My skin, yeah I have trouble with it, well, I had trouble with this girl, you know I attract these crazies like a fucking magnet. It was what she wanted and she was down in one of the lounges and she started in on one of the S&M dudes with this leather cane. Long story short, he was new to the club and he freaked so I stepped in and took his place. I took her to my private room, 'The Confessional' is what they call it, and she was way too fucking into it. No blood, no harmful pain here at The Cathedral, those rules are set in stone. Have you seen them? They're carved into the stone mantle in the foyer, no blood... no harm.... It's about pleasure, Wills, it's an escape."

William picked up the receiver of the vintage black phone on the desk and held it to his ear. Abigail answered and he told her to come upstairs right away and bring a first aid kit.

"Ah, chere! What have you done to yourself?" she said, crossing herself and murmuring a silent prayer as soon as she had a look at Walden's tortured body. "Come on, come with me you crazy pretty bastard, you're dripping blood all over the floor. I will take you to your room and put you in the shower and then I will fix you up with stinging ointment. That way you can remember and stop doing these bad things to yourself, you hear me, chere?" She rambled on and Walden rolled his eyes at William and followed her along the upper gallery that had a perfect view into the rooms below.

"I need to speak with you, are you in the club?" William held his cell phone to his ear and waited for Tanya to reply.

"I am, I'm rather busy at the moment, what do you need?" she asked, she was out of breath and trying hard to sound business-like.

"Sorry to interrupt but I need a doctor ASAP. I'm upstairs with Walden, he has some fairly deep cuts on his torso but mostly he needs a strong sedative. I want him knocked out so I can drive him to Greenlea tonight and decide on a course of action. He's pretty well out of it. See if there's a physician in the club right now, if not get hold of Jim Bishop, he's a member so he won't be telling tales to the general public."

"Dr. Bishop's here, I'd recognize his red devil mask anywhere, the man's a walking cliché. We'll be right up," Tanya said and he heard her telling someone they would have to finish their interaction later.

The cream of New Orleans society had embraced Walden's bizarre private club. Walden hand-picked each person he deemed suitable to become a member. There was no other way to gain entrance, one had to receive a handwritten invitation from Walden Warfield and the membership fee was practically a king's ransom. They all came, not a single invitation had gone unanswered and they paid willingly to live out their most secret sexual fantasies. Bondage, sadism, masochism, voyeurism, ménage a trois, group sex, the perversities of the human libido were limitless indeed. There were mandatory rules for membership of course, no person under twenty-one was accepted, no bestiality, no unsolicited forceful acts. No weapons real or fake were allowed inside the club, no drug use was permitted and only two cocktails were served per person in the course of a gathering. Also there was the 'no actual bodily harm' rule which was strictly enforced by a musclebound security force.

And there was what was described as the 'limit reached' word. One had only to say "mercy" and any activity they were engaged in would stop immediately. Walden had masterminded The Cathedral and made it happen in one of his more rational periods. The club was a huge success although no one spoke of it out of fear for their reputations and due to an ironclad nondisclosure agreement each member signed. The Cathedral was unknown outside the haven of the old shipping warehouse whose interior Walden had spent a fortune to have fashioned into the likeness of grand nineteenth century Russian manor house. It was indeed a utopian sanctuary dedicated to hedonism.

*

"What on earth are you doing here in the middle of the night, William? Who's with you, are you in any danger, son?" William the third stood on the upstairs veranda of the Greek revival plantation house with a shotgun aimed at the shadowy figures who climbed his front steps balancing Walden between them.

William told his father to put his shotgun away and have a guestroom made ready. Walden and Dr. Bishop were with him, he said, and Walden was in a bad way.

Later on in the wee small hours before dawn William left his brother there, so heavily sedated he was sure he might sleep for two days. The single issue his father had been concerned with was the whereabouts of Liza's daughter. Alaina was the last thing William wanted to think about but she was also the only thing he could think about. That and the fact that it was past five in the morning pissed him off and put him in a bad, bad mood. Walden needed to be in the private psychiatric hospital in Switzerland under the gentle yet determined care of Dr. Eleanor Selig. He would have to give her a call and make the arrangements, he had instructed Tanya to turn her attention to The Cathedral and along with Abigail they could manage the place in Walden's absence. He also intended to have central air conditioning installed in his father's house immediately no matter how loud and long his father bitched about it or the strings he had to pull to get it done. A severe weariness crept into his brain and his bones. He was tired of being his brother's keeper and catering to his father's every whim and now there was the girl. Liza's daughter was occupying far too many of his thoughts.

"Well, a cheery good morning to you, William," Beth Hawkins said, peering over the tops of her glasses as she passed a cup of coffee across the breakfast bar to Allie.

"Are you just getting in from last night? Never mind, that's not one little bit of my business, sorry. I mean, what you do with your nights and your... other stuff..." Allie's words trailed off and she blushed so furiously she felt light headed.

William was in no mood for inquiries from Hawk or Alaina Darling, he wanted a shower and about twenty minutes of sleep and then he would deliver the girl to his father. But, shit fire, how could he leave her out on the bayou now? Walden was there and his father was batty as hell so there was no telling what the two of them would subject the gullible girl to. Walden was likely to traipse around naked with his cock hanging halfway down his fucking thigh and his father... well, the possibilities for disaster were limitless even in a house overflowing with butlers, cooks, maids and a couple of very discreet bodyguards.

"Get dressed, Alaina, you're about to meet my father and if you're very unlucky you'll make the acquaintance of my brother as well. I'm going to lie down for half an hour, then I'll shower and we'll go. Hawk, I can feel your inquiring eyes boring into the back of my head, mind your own damned business and say your goodbyes to Miss Darling. She'll be staying on the Countess Warfield for the rest of the long hot summer."

Chapter Four

Allie was in heaven. The California girl's soul was definitely embracing the hot southern sunshine as they drove along with the top down on William's Maserati. The Louisiana countryside was strangely seductive, just like the man at her side. He handled the sleek Italian sports car like it was a woman he was bending to his will, shifting gears in a smooth fluid motion. He caressed the sleek wood and leather steering wheel as if he were running his hand along the smooth curve of a female hip or thigh or ass. She could not believe that she was wet and squirming just watching his practiced hands maneuver the car.

They crossed the twenty-four mile bridge over Lake Ponchartrain and she marveled at an inland body of water so large that for eight miles no trace of land was visible. William whipped the car down a dirt and grass covered road and stopped at a gas station that was also a Cajun café. They ate catfish coated in cornmeal and red pepper flakes and sliced so thin that it curled when it was fried in hot grease. The crispy filets were served on sheets of brown paper with bowls of red beans and rice with Tabasco sauce on the side and they carried it outside and sat at a rusty metal table beneath a centuries-old oak tree. Skinny stray cats prowled beneath their chairs, purring and brushing against their legs until they tossed them their scraps and shooed them away.

"So, your mother died?" They both said at precisely the same time and so they sat quietly surprised for a long while.

"Yes, my mother died when I was seven," William said, breaking the silence at last. "She and my younger brother were taken, they were abducted and held for ransom. My mother was given an accidental overdose of drugs."

"Oh. Oh God. That's horrible, I'm so, so sorry. I shouldn't have said anything," Allie said and she reached across the table and rested her hand on top of William's. She knew he might think it was too intimate for her to reach out to him but instead he turned his hand and curled his long fingers around hers.

"No, it's alright and I asked you, too. Strange, isn't it, that we both asked that awful question at the same time? I'm not in the habit of discussing death," he said, and the heat of his hand holding hers and the flare of something even hotter in his eyes made Allie's heart skip a beat.

She wished she had the courage to lean forward and say, "Okay, forget sadness, let's talk about sex. Let's talk about you showing me how it is with a real man, how good a kiss can feel in all the right places. Let's talk about the things you make me feel that I've never felt before. In fact, let's not talk, let's get down and dirty... whatever that means."

"Yeah, that was strange," Allie said forcing herself to retrieve her hand from his to brush a few strands of honey-hued hair from her face. "My mom died about a year ago, an aneurism in her brain burst. We didn't even know it was there, she had a bad headache for a couple of days and then she collapsed. It was fast and it was a shock, you know? I had to deal with all the funeral arrangements by myself. My dad left us when I was little, he had this sick habit of running off with his students every time he moved to a new university to teach, which was all the time. Anyway... boohoo, right? Life is tough, you think the ones you love will always be there and then one day you're all by yourself. But, as Tennessee Williams wrote "I've always relied on the kindness of strangers." I'd never met your dad but he came to my rescue, he had this nice man from a funeral home in Berkley handle every detail and so I promised him I would come here to New Orleans when I finished college."

"I see, well, my father can be surprising, I suppose. He never got over losing your mother or maybe he's just not quite right in the head, who can say for sure? Loving a woman for so many years may seem like a noble endeavor but he was a fool. He should never have let her go. I can assure you that I would have moved heaven and earth to keep her," William said, and Allie's heart leapt into her throat so that she could barely breathe much less speak. "Well, we'd better hit the road," William said quickly, he was dumbfounded by his own words. What the hell did he know about loving a woman and what made him think he would never let her go? "Yeah, we should definitely get back on the road, my father is probably pacing the floors by now. My cell is on mute but I can see that he's tried to call a dozen times."

William and Allie agreed that they should leave but neither of them moved or spoke for a long while. They sat beneath the old tree with fat lazy bees buzzing overhead and the contented cats purred and stretched out in scattered pools of sunlight. It was almost painful for William to keep his hands and his lips off of Allie. He made it a point not to kiss when he had sex, it was far too personal. But the urge to kiss her, to explore her pouty mouth with his tongue and taste her desire was nearly overwhelming. As they sat quietly facing each other he wanted to sweep the table clean and lift her onto it. He longed to tangle one hand in her hair to hold her steady, push her knees apart and watch the innocence in her stormy-sea colored eyes shift from surprise to passion as his fingers slid over the sweet mound of her pussy. He imagined her spreading her long legs wider as she warmed to his touch and then wrapping them around his waist and moaning his name as he freed his cock and thrust into her.

"Were you disgusted from watching me eat? The way I inhaled the food? I couldn't help it, it was delicious and I didn't realize I was so hungry. I ate so fast you would think someone was going to take it away from me!" She laughed trying to steady her riotous emotions as his electric gaze lingered on her mouth. She stood, pushing her chair back and walked to a water hose that was curled on the ground and rinsed her hands, the hem of her loose linen shift fluttering up and exposing her tanned thighs. "Seriously, I hope you don't hate me," she said, jolting his thoughts back to reality. "I'm sorry your dad had that weird long-standing love for my mom, I suppose it must have caused problems for your family. It doesn't seem as if he made a secret of his feelings and honestly my mother didn't either. She would tell me stories about when they were young and in love. She said he was the prince who had awakened her heart, like in sleeping beauty, but she would never say why she left him for my useless father."

"I don't hate you," William said firmly, and his eyes narrowed and his mouth settled into a firm line as he tried to process what he hoped to accomplish by leading this enchanting girl on. After all, he couldn't bring her happiness, he couldn't even begin to imagine that men and women could share anything more than a brief illusion of romance and the fleeting thrill of sex.

*

"Alaina, it's an indescribable joy to finally meet you. Liza's daughter, how remarkable." William Warfield the third hugged Allie as tightly as if she were his long lost beloved sweetheart. "It's been thirty years since I set eyes on my dear Liza but I would have known you at a glance. You have her beautiful face and magnificent grey-green eyes and your hair is your crowning glory. It's exactly the same lovely blonde as your mother's, a color only nature could bestow. How proud she must have been of your beauty and your academic achievements, my dear."

"Thank you Mr. Warfield, you're just as handsome as my mother said. She swore that you looked like a Danish prince and she was right. Your son has your handsome features but not your blue eyes and blonde hair."

"You're exactly right, my sons have the dark eyes and black hair of my wife's Portuguese ancestors. And yet, like my forebears they are Vikings through and through, both of them fearless and with a great love of ships and the sea. Not to deny the Portuguese sailors their own sea-fairing victories, they proved to be courageous and valiant explorers and of course they were true pioneers as navigators across great expanses of uncharted ocean."

"I'll bet Allie could use a glass of iced tea, Father. I think I'll leave you to show her the grounds and I'll go up and check on... I'll see how the air-conditioning installation is progressing."

"This house faces the bayou, William, there's a constant breeze. No need for air-conditioning and these 'installation specialists' as they refer to themselves are swarming throughout the house and grounds. You're aware of how I detest having strangers snooping about and yet here they are at your insistence. I suppose I understand that you believe it's for your brother's comfort while he's staying here. But he'll be on his way to Lausanne shortly so you needn't have gone to all the fuss and bother."

"Your brother is here? I'd love to meet him," Allie gave William a quizzical look, as if she was surprised that he had kept that fact from her.

"My brother is unwell, Alaina, perhaps you'll meet him another time," William said and he watched her sip from the glass of iced tea a maid offered her and then his father took her free hand and led her outside for a tour of the grounds.

The maid handed William a glass of iced tea as well and he asked which bedroom his brother was in.

"Upstairs, blue bedroom lookin' out toward the bayou," she said tilting her head toward the massive double staircase. "Your daddy tried to put him in your mama's old room but Walden wasn't going for that even though the doctor had him all doped up. Nope, that boy don't want nothin' to do with Miss Stella's room. I still cry myself to sleep most nights thinkin' 'bout him bein' there when your mama passed away."

"Let's not dredge that up, alright, Mae? Thank you for the tea," William said with a sigh of resignation as he climbed the stairs to find his brother.

*

Walden was not in the blue guestroom although the bed was unmade and a glass of water and prescription bottles sat nearby. A set of French doors to the upper veranda were open and William only hoped his brother wasn't lounging around naked in case Allie passed beneath and happened to look up. Thankfully he wasn't naked, he wore tattered blue jeans that hung low on his hips and he was leaning over the railing smoking a cigarette. He was tall and broad-shouldered and well-muscled just like William. They were naturally athletic and had been football stars in high school. William played polo on the Crescent City Polo team and both brothers worked out religiously. William was committed to an intense military type regimen to push the limits of his body and because it was part of a routine he did not like to break. Walden's sole interest in exercise was to maintain stamina for his rigorous and often over-the-top sexcapades.

"Is this what the doctor ordered?" William asked, snatching the cigarette from his brother's lips and grinding it out with the toe of his shoe.

"Nope. Shots and therapy, same as always. No sex, no fun, no pain, no games. I could fall asleep just thinking about it," Walden said swaying as he stood. He propped his arm on William's shoulder to steady himself and pointed toward a wisteria arbor at the edge of the bayou. "Mother's ghost is gone, Wills, and fuck-me-running am I glad. It's about time isn't it? I don't think I'll see ghosts anymore but look, now I can see angels."

He pointed to where Allie leaned against the thick twining wisteria, she took a bite from a large peach their father had plucked from a tree and peeled for her with his small silver pocket knife. The fruit laden branches of the gnarled tree hung nearly to the ground and the smell of ripe peaches and the steady hum of buzzing bees was thick in the air. Allie bit into the peach and as the juice ran down her chin she threw her head back and laughed and the lilting sound floated up to the veranda and William felt his heart constrict and then expand. He turned to his brother and Walden's eyes were bright and glassy as he leaned forward, his hands clutched the railing and he whispered with awe, "That's my angel! Wills, she's real. She's a real live girl, Father told me all about her. Her name is Alaina and she's Liza's daughter—if you can handle the irony of that. Just seeing her has saved me and messed me up bad but in a good way and now I'm falling in love with her, Wills, I..."

"How many fucking times have I asked you not to call me Wills? Huh, how can I get it through that crazy head of yours that I am not our father? He is Wills, I'm not!"

"You are like a father to me, Wills. He never was. I won't call you by that name anymore if means that much to you. But I want you to understand that I never would have made it this long, survived this long, without you to watch over me. You were the only person who cared whether I lived or died. Our dad is a major fuck up, and that's coming from me— the crown-prince of gutter-crawling severely screwed-up human beings. His precious Liza did a serious mind-fuck on William Warfield the third and the rest of us—you, me and Mother, and we paid the price. Money, billions of dollars, a fat fucking bank account, that's all he is. That's all he's ever been, he's given us money and the power and perks that come with it instead of giving us his love. You've been my father, William. And you gave me the greatest gift a father or a brother could give—you believed in me."

"I'm glad you're done with ghosts, Walden, and I do believe in you. We're brothers and I love you and I really want you to get better. But you have to make an effort, do you understand?" William said, jerking his brother away from the railing and the sight of Allie with more force than he had intended and guiding him into the blue bedroom. "You should lie down before you fall down. Dr. Bishop has you on a powerful sedative, that's why you feel like sleeping. Has Mae been keeping your wounds clean?" He asked, peeling away a strip of gauze that covered the cuts on Walden's chest and stomach. There were scores of older wounds, healed now but constant reminders that the darkness in Walden wouldn't allow him to enjoy pleasure without pain.

"The old girl treats me like a baby, it's kinda nice. I want that angel, William, did you see her? She looked right at me, it was like looking into the face of love. I could be too much like father if I fell in love, I'd go insane like he has, thanks to his beloved Liza. Don't let her get away, I swear to you, she's meant for me. But love is the worst thing that can happen to a man..." he mumbled the last words as he drifted off to sleep and William stood in the open French doors and ran his fingers over his mouth and his chin wondering what to do, what to do about Allie Darling.

*

"I'm sorry to hear that your brother isn't feeling well, I noticed the two of you on the upstairs porch, you look a lot alike," Allie said and then she went on talking when William remained silent. "You're sure you don't mind if I come back to the city with you? Your dad says you have the most remarkable hotel, a vintage ocean liner docked right downtown on the shore of the Mississippi River. I can't wait to see it and he was so sweet to call and make a reservation for me. He thought they were booked up but I guess there was a cancellation. Pretty lucky, huh? Now you won't have to deal with having me underfoot all the time."

The air had cooled by the time they left Greenlea and a thick mist rose from the bayou so William put the top up on the Maserati and they raced along as if cradled in a cozy cocoon under the full rising moon. Allie peeked at him from beneath the cover of thickly fringed lashes and wondered if he ever let anyone inside the carefully crafted façade he presented to the world. She had seen a softer side of William Warfield once or twice over the last day and a half and it was brilliant and breathtaking to behold. They were still strangers really, and yet she was inexplicably drawn to him. She felt as if she would give anything to break through the rusted iron shell he had built around his heart so she could feel it racing to a thundering beat just for her.

"Here we are," William said, breaking her reverie. He had parked the car and held her door open offering his hand to help her step out. She stood next to him inhaling his spicy sexy scent and absorbing the heat that radiated from his body. He reached down and grasped her hand firmly as she stared incredulously at the huge navy-blue ship with its trio of towering red smoke stacks.

"My offices are here as well, perhaps you'd like to have a tour one day soon," he said, as he let go of her hand and they walked side by side toward the ship.

"Yes, absolutely! I'd love to see your office now... or anytime. I know you're probably anxious to be done with me William. You're a busy man and you've been so nice to put up with me, your father said you did it as a favor to him. Oh, I left my things at your house, I sort of need my nightie and toothbrush." She said and her face blazed when she caught the flicker of his smile at the term "nightie."

They strolled up the teakwood gangplank that glowed with tiny hidden lights and Allie was so entranced by the ship looming ever closer that she slipped her arm through William's and stared up at its hulking height. He clasped his hand over hers drawing her closer when they reached the grand wide entrance into the lobby and just as William greeted the smiling hotel host who waited for them all the ship's lights blinked into darkness.

"Careful Mr. Warfield sir, you don't want to lose your way in the dark," the host's voice sounded from somewhere inside the vast lobby of the pitch-black ship.

William suddenly didn't think being careful was called for, Allie had pressed her body into his as darkness surrounded them. He pulled her against him and when he bent his lips to hers they found their match in a searing and ferocious need. A solid wall was at his back; he leaned against it never loosening his grip on this exquisite girl. She tasted of innocence and peaches and all things sweet and tantalizing. Her lips parted readily and his tongue met hers, twining and exploring in a dance that set them both on fire. Too late, he mused hearing the host's warning in his head, he was already lost.

Allie moaned and moved her hands beneath his 'oh so presentable' suit jacket and felt a surge of purely animalistic lust shoot straight to her sex. The impeccable suit he wore covered a body that made her weak with longing as she ran her hands from his sculpted chest up to his unbelievably wide muscled shoulders. God, he felt good, hot and hard and huge. He was not only the sexiest man she'd ever known, his kiss was the definition of what a kiss should be. It went on and on, his lips soft and full, his tongue expertly probing, it was a long soft deep wet kiss that sent sparks of anticipation careening through her body. William Warfield was one hundred and eighty degrees away from the awkward college boys who had no idea how to kiss a woman. Oh how she wanted to strip off his bothersome jacket, tie and shirt right then and there and feel the solid wall of his muscled chest under her hands and then let the straps of her dress fall away and lean into him, skin to skin and heart to heart. Instead she frantically clutched at his broad shoulders and then let her arms snake around his neck drawing his body to hers, holding on to William for dear life.

"Allie Darling," he murmured against her parted lips and as she moaned his name the ship's lights flickered on.

"William... maybe we should go to my room..." Allie's voice was soft and breathy and her pupils were dilated as her hands refused to release their hold on William. She felt not only the heat radiating from his glorious muscles but also from the thick pulsing heat of his erection as it lengthened and pressed insistently against her thigh. Oh to let her greedy hands unbuckle his fine leather belt and tug at the zipper....

"Let's go have a drink, Alaina, actually you should have water to clear your head," he said, releasing her abruptly, leading her to the lobby bar in the ship's glass domed rotunda.

"Drink this, all of it," he said, taking a glass of water from a server's tray before they even had time to sit down. He held it to her lips and his eyes warned her not to question him, 'just drink the damn water', was his unspoken command.

"William," she whispered when she'd emptied the glass. He seemed satisfied and they settled into vintage velvet armchairs with only a small bistro table separating them.

"Listen to me, Alaina, I've let this get out of hand. I'm not one to swoon over a woman and you're barely more than a girl. Let me tell you something about myself, I'm twenty-eight and by my own calculated choice I don't have a social life and I don't want a love affair. I run one of the largest shipping lines in the world among other subsidiary enterprises and that's just the tip of the iceberg, which isn't meant to be a pun considering ships and icebergs and disasters." He smiled for a moment and reached for her hands which were trembling, but he thought better of it. A cocktail server set two champagne flutes on the marble topped table and William finished both drinks in an instant. "I am bad fucking news for a girl like you, Allie Darling. Believe me when I say that. Find yourself a nice ordinary man, a wholesome boyfriend who will love and cherish you. I hope you'll forgive me for getting slightly lost in your eyes and your beauty and your seductive goodness."

"I want you to get lost in me," she said with so much sincerity that William knew he would never forget her words. This girl had awakened something that was buried deep inside of him, something he was sure had died long ago. He knew his brother's words were true, looking at Allie was like seeing the true face of love.

"Please be careful what you say to me, Alaina, words have power. You study the words of great authors, so you should be aware that they can change everything—lives, fate, destiny. Your words, your every movement affects me, I can't explain it. Don't tempt me, I won't fall in love, I won't allow myself that false happiness because it can break a man's soul. I control my world and as enticing as you are, I will not concede to let you to become part of it."

Allie stared down at the white linen napkin she was twisting in her hands and William thought it would kill him when her tears spilled in huge drops and left their dark stain. He wanted to stop those sorrowful tears and he wanted more than that... much more. He wanted to reach beneath the table and move his hand up the whisper soft skin of her thighs, then let his fingers invade the sanctity of her pussy. He wanted that most intimate part of her for his own, he longed to feel the velvety folds and tight hot depths and taste the salty sweet goodness. But she would want more, she wasn't a 'one night stand' kind of girl, he knew that without a doubt. She might not admit or even realize how easily they could get tangled up in one another and one summer would not be long enough. Better to never go there, better to turn her away and never let her test his resolve.

"Speak of the devil and here he is in the flesh," Marisa stood over them, her face was tight with envy and her voice was cloyingly sweet. "Mind if we join you, Mr. Warfield? Look who I ran into," she said, pulling a chair to the table and pointing over her shoulder at Tanya.

"Yes, aren't I the lucky one?" Tanya said and she rolled her eyes and mouthed an apology to William. "I left the... I left Abigail to hold down the fort and escorted Marisa here to her room. She's had a bit too much fun for one night and it seems your father has arranged for her to stay here on the Countess Warfield for as long as she likes."

"You've had enough of me William but unlike you, your father is an extremely kind man," she hissed, leaning forward to rake her fingernails over the slight shadow of stubble on his jaw. He calmly removed her hand from his face and then she turned her attention to Allie. "He already has you in tears, sweetie? Big surprise, don't waste your time on William, he's a fucking disaster when it comes to love and romance. If you let yourself love him it won't be long before you fully understand the meaning of 'crimes of the heart'."

"Don't speak to her. Do you hear what I'm saying, Marisa? Allie does not need to be exposed to your disgusting negativity." William sprang to his feet and stood next to Allie staring down at Marisa with barely contained fury. "Tanya, I want this venomous woman out of the city and state within the hour, can you manage that please? I own this hotel Marisa, my father has nothing to do with it and you are no longer welcome here. I'll make sure that you're comfortable elsewhere, somewhere closer to your own family. I thought I'd made myself abundantly clear before, New Orleans isn't the place for you."

"Fine, I'll go, William, and it will cost you dearly if you expect me to keep quiet about your brother's kinky club." Marisa jerked her arm away when Tanya tried to lead her out of the bar. She tossed her flaming red hair over her shoulder and held her head high as she peered more closely at Allie. "As for you, let me assure you of this, he will never make love to a mousy little prom queen like you. He will fuck you, however, in more ways than one. Oh yes, he'll fuck you until he's sure that he can send you on your way as damaged as he is. Don't expect love songs and valentines from William Warfield, romance is a complete sacrilege as far as he's concerned. He's capable of many things but tenderness is not one of them. By the way, he always drinks that same wicked drink, supposedly it was Hemingway's favorite," she laughed and picked up the empty champagne flute and thrust it in Allie's face. "Death in the Afternoon that's what his drink of choice is called and I believe he's overly fond of it because it makes him think of what the French refer to as 'la petite mort'—the little death. If you're too naive to understand the meaning let me explain it to you..."

"I understand the French term for orgasm and thank you for taking the time to explain so many details about William. He's been a most considerate host and a perfect gentleman since the moment we met. Maybe he treats you like a common whore because you go out of your way to behave like one," Allie said, and she nearly fainted at the look on Marisa's face and especially that she'd had the courage to say the words to such a hateful woman.

"Touché," William told the gaping speechless Marisa and his smile was so bright and genuine that Allie straightened her shoulders, held her head high and basked in its radiant glow.

*

"There are a dozen fine shops here on the ship where we can get you the required "nightie" and some clothes for tomorrow," William said, his hand rested lightly on Allie's elbow as he steered her across the spectacular round lobby. "I'll send your duffel bag over first thing in the morning unless you can't live without it tonight. If that's the case then I'm sure Miss Hawkins will be happy to leave her cats and her books and her comfortable bed and bring it to you right now."

"Don't be rude," Allie said, smirking as she glanced up at him, her heart tripping over itself at the mere touch of his warm hand on her arm. "I wouldn't want to take Miss Hawkins away from her cats and her romance novels. Oh hell no! These shops are filled with designer brands, my budget is geared more toward Old Navy and Target. I don't need a... nightgown and who's gonna see me in it anyway? I'll just wear this dress again tomorrow, if I hang it in the bathroom while I shower the steam will make the wrinkles disappear like magic."

You're magic! He wanted to say, but she was not his to toy with. She was intelligent, beautiful, sensual and intriguing and some lucky man would find his way to her and make her his own. A man who would live out his life wholly in love with this marvelous girl who was a prize to be wooed and won and cherished. William had never wanted a woman more than he wanted Allie and he was used to having whatever he wanted. But he would not use this girl for his own selfish pleasure, his father had been right to warn William not to hurt her.

"If we're going to be friends Alaina then you should understand from the start that I am uncompromising when I make up my mind about any given matter. So please don't argue with me over a few articles of clothing that I intend to purchase for you. If you're worried that I can't afford it, well don't, my credit is good at this hotel. Here we go, let's check out Stella McCartney and Zac Posen, their designs are a fresh take on classic style."

"If we're going to be friends?" Allie whispered as they entered the boutique and a sales woman rushed to meet them. Allie had been lukewarm about love in the past and absolutely tepid when it came to sex with her 'somewhat serious' boyfriend in college. But like a bolt from the blue she was thunderstruck by her desire for William Warfield, and maybe worse than that, she was probably thunder-fucked since he wanted nothing to do with her in the sex or romance department.

"Yes, Alaina, I think we should be friends... buddies. Alright, what would you like to wear for your first day on the job? Pants, a skirt and blouse, how about this dress?" He said holding up a short wrap dress in black crepe de chine with a tiny pattern of white flowers.

"Oh that's lovely!" The middle-aged sales clerk gushed, plucking a smaller sized dress from the rack for Allie without taking her eyes off William. "Let's get you into a dressing room, dear, and Mr. Warfield and I will pick out many, many beautiful items for you. Shall I make an appointment at the hair salon in the morning? Your hair is a bit long and shapeless, you might do well to have a chic new style."

"Her hair is perfect the way it is," William said and the look on his face spoke volumes.

So, even the indomitable William Warfield has his Achilles' heel. The clerk mused, lifting an eyebrow as she sized up the young woman who had obviously found the proverbial weak spot in William's armor. She was fresh looking, a rare classic beauty with large soulful eyes, enchantingly thick lashes and a naturally full pouty mouth that was all the rage these days. The girl wore an inexpensive dress that might have seemed tacky on someone less confident, but she wore it with unerring style. She had an enviously slim yet shapely feminine figure and her movements were fluid and graceful. If the unthinkable were to happen and William Warfield fell in love there would surely be a collective groan heard throughout the South from the single females in New Orleans and beyond. If this girl was the one to win his heart then he deserved a round of applause. He had his choice of mannequin-like, overly thin, frighteningly silicone enhanced, anxiously giddy debutants, but he had chosen the real thing, a woman who was less 'Barbie' and more 'girl next door'.

"I love it," William said when Allie stood in front of a full length mirror and fasted a black patent-leather belt at her waist. "The dress suits you, soft and yet it still shows that you mean business. Now, shoes, under... garments? Where can we find those, Miss...?"

"My name is Leona, sir. The Agent Provocateur lingerie shop is next door and the Manolo Blahnik boutique is two doors down on your right. Mr. Warfield, now that I know your young lady friend's size and style why don't I hand pick the necessary items and have them sent directly to her suite? That way the pair of you can have time for... more interesting activities."

"Agent Provocateur? I don't think that sounds like the type of undies I would wear... not to work at least," Allie glanced up at William and the look of mischief that crinkled the corners of his eyes set her cheeks on fire and her heart racing. "Fine, have them sent up... oh, whatever! Just ask if they have a nightgown without leather straps or chains. Actually, skip the nightgown, naked should work just fine since I have the bed all to myself." And with that Allie thanked Leona and William for their help and generosity and went to collect the key to her room.

"Hey, slow down. Allie, wait a minute. Let me get you settled in your room and I can send a car to drive you to work tomorrow," William said taking long strides to catch up to her as she reached the hotel's front desk.

She whirled around and placed a hand on his chest to stop him from moving any closer. "William, you are the nicest man I think I've ever met and also the most infuriating. I've tried to decipher your constant mixed messages for two days and it's made me a little cranky. So, I thank you for the clothes and the flawless hospitality but I don't need you to send a car for me and don't waste your time with concern for my welfare. Contrary to your beliefs, I am a grown woman who knows without a shadow of a doubt what I want in life and how to get it. Hot billionaires with hearts of stone are not on my bucket list, so you are off the hook. The kiss we shared was incredible, I'll just file it under 'Best first kiss that ever existed in the history of the world' and move on. Goodnight, I can find my room and my way in your city all by myself, thank you very much Mr. Warfield."

And just like that she walked away with William staring after her. He was truly at a loss for words. His eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed at the unfamiliar twinge in his heart as Alaina Darling left him behind.

Chapter Five

Allie slept naked and her restless dreams were filled with images of William Warfield. When she woke at dawn, her body shuddered and then stiffened and her eyelids fluttered open as she squeezed her thighs tightly together to savor the orgasm. Hmmm, she couldn't remember the last time she'd had a wet dream. She slipped two fingers between her legs and she gasped at how wet and overly sensitive her smoothly waxed pussy was. It had been a long, long time since she had given herself pleasure and the last few times she'd tried she gave up for lack of a suitable fantasy man to focus on.

The only thing that worked was the handy-dandy little fingertip vibrator she'd ordered on the internet the year before. Only problem was she hardly ever used it thanks to the lack of door locks in her college dorm. Not only that, but the stupid batteries just loved to run out of power at the most inopportune moment. Mostly she forgot she even had the strangely effective gizmo since finding a moment alone in her dorm room was rare. Her roommate Jenna was a new age free-spirited hippie who encouraged Allie to go ahead and use her "masturbatory device" while Jenna was three feet away in her bed studying, it wouldn't bother her. She informed Allie that she did most of her masturbating in the girl's shower and she didn't give a shit who saw or heard her, people had needs, so why didn't all the little sorority prudes just get the fuck over it.

But Allie couldn't imagine having an orgasm with Jenna in the same room. The truth was she hadn't ever had an orgasm with anyone else in the room, not even the boyfriend she had fairly frequent sex with. So she had basically given up on sex. Her battery-powered toy was unreliable and her now ex-boyfriend had hated to tell her so, but he said she really didn't have a knack for sex... period, the end... The end, until William Warfield opened a Pandora's Box of carnal desire and smoking hot imagery that was waking her up in more ways than one.

*

William or his father, she wasn't sure which, had arranged for her to have a sumptuous suite rather than a single room. She slipped out of bed and shrugged into a plush bathrobe monogrammed with an ornate CW for Countess Warfield. What a life! She mused as she wandered from the bedroom to the ornate white marble bath and then to the living and dining rooms. The rooms were elaborately decorated in an Art Deco style to match the era when the luxury ocean liner was first launched into service. Large polished brass portholes provided a picturesque view of the New Orleans skyline paired with a glimpse of the wide green Mississippi River. Everything about this sultry city pulsed with a history of carnality and romance. It had been home to pirates who were bewitched by voodoo priestesses, southern gentlemen gallantly courting seductive southern belles, streetcars named for desire, and Storyville—the red-light district where the House of the Rising Sun had been the ruin of many willing young men and where prostitutes practiced their craft from 1897 to 1917 under the approving patronage of local authorities.

The irony was not lost on Allie. Here she was in the romance capital of America and she was falling for the one man who wanted nothing to do with the nonsense of love or sex that might actually link his dick to his heart. A knock at the door tore her thoughts away from William and his face and his body and his heart and his dick. Man, what a lethal combination! She sighed and answered the door.

"Breakfast, Miss Darling, compliments of the hotel and your... luggage, I suppose you could say, compliments of Mr. William Warfield," the young man gave her a conspiratorial grin and rolled the cart into the suite.

"Thank you, and to refer to my duffel bag as luggage is pushing it a bit, don't you think?" Allie found her purse, dug through it and held out a tip for the bellman. He waved his hands in front of him as he backed out the door, refusing the money and repeating "Compliments of Mr. Warfield."

"Compliments of Mr. Warfield... compliments of mister I'm not the man for you so steer clear of me Allie, blah blah blah. Well you can kiss my ass... not that I could even get you to, but make up your freaking mind William Warfield, either you're in my life or you're not! I DO NOT WANT TO BE YOUR BUDDY! Fabulous, now I'm talking to myself... and maybe shouting a little, too."

*

William was trying desperately to rationalize the reason he was reading the Wall Street Journal in the lobby of the Countess Warfield at nine o'clock in the morning. After all, his offices were there on the top deck of the ship, all he had to do was step into one of the elaborate elevators and he would be at his desk in minutes. He wanted to see Allie Darling when she left for her first day on the job, which was the reason he lingered when he had more important issues to deal with and there was no denying it. It disturbed him, his undeniable attraction to a girl—a young woman, who was the polar opposite of the women he found himself attracted to sexually. He liked his women "bold and cold" as Walden had laughingly pointed out on more than one occasion. Women who shared his penchant for hot hard unemotional unattached mostly anonymous often with a hint of danger 'hit it and forget it' sex.

Allie stepped out of the elevator and breezed across the lobby and was out the door as quickly as a breath of fresh air. And just that fast William's heart had flipped over in his chest and his cock was irritatingly stiff. Fuck it all! He had known her for all of three days and just that fast emotions he had worked to suppress for the better part of his life were running rampant.

"She refused your car and driver, sir," the head valet stood next to William fidgeting, his eyes blinking rapidly, waiting to see what William's response would be.

"Did she know it was my car?" William asked, standing and glaring down at the valet.

"Well sir, I didn't tell her but she must have figured it out. I told her the car belonged to the hotel and it was at the disposal of any guest who was staying in a suite, just like you said. But she saw right through that bullshit... excuse me sir, she said, "Tell Mr. Warfield I'm just fine on my own."

So that was that, Alaina Darling might be fairly young and less than worldly, but she was no fool. William took the elevator up to his office and stared out the large angular windows toward the French Quarter. She was out there in his city without him, what a strange thought. And she is fine, just fine, leave her alone, his inner voice cautioned. That inner monologue had not shut up since the moment Allie climbed into his car for the first time and sat wide eyed and dripping with rain and unmistakable sensuality.

*

"You must be Alaina, welcome to New Orleans, darlin'. That's crazy isn't it? Darlin' is your last name and it's an everyday part of our vocabulary down here in these parts! I'm Thelma Maguire and that handsome young gentleman up on the library ladder is my son, Brodie. Come on in and let me show you around our humble office here at the Southern Gothic Literary Society. Did you have any trouble finding the place? We are just a tad hidden amongst all these crumbling warehouses. I have high hopes that the Warfield Shipping Company will get around to renovating more of those old buildings soon, but I'm not complaining. They gave us a rent-free one hundred year lease on this little gem of a building and you sure can't beat a deal like that with a stick, now can you?" Thelma Maguire took a quick breath and would have continued to talk nonstop if her son hadn't materialized beside her.

"Hello, Miss Darling, I'm Brodie Maguire. How about a quick tour of your own personal office space and then we'll grab a cup of coffee. The coffee shop on the edge of the district is not quite as good as Café Du Monde, but it's better than the weak brew my Mother makes," he said and he motioned for Allie to follow him through a high-ceilinged hallway to the back of the building. "How's this? It has a better view than any of the other little rooms we use as our offices. My mother is a bit long-winded but she's also a terrific gardener and you can see that for yourself," he said as Allie walked to a narrow set of ancient French doors with wavy glass panes. The doors creaked as she opened them and a few flakes of the original faded delft-blue paint fluttered to the floor but she gasped when she saw the tiny courtyard beyond.

"Call me Allie," she said, but she couldn't take her eyes off the extravagant beauty of gardenias, azaleas, bougainvillea and countless scores of blooming shrubs and vines and ornamental trees. "This is so cool! I've heard the French Quarter is famous for its hidden courtyards, but just wow! It's like an oasis in the middle of the warehouse district, right?"

"Yes it is, now, what do you say we walk a few blocks to the Roasted Bean? I hate to admit that I have an out-of-control dependence on that demon called caffeine, but I do," Brodie said and his hand strayed to the small of her back for an instant as they made their way to the street.

Three streets over from the derelict row of warehouses the area was completely transformed. High-end art galleries and restaurants crowded into refurbished four and five story high brick and stucco storefronts. Names of early Louisiana merchants like Lafitte and Thibodaux and Saint Michele were still visible where they had been painted in scrolled script above broad antique entry doors. Brodie carried cups of fragrant steaming coffee to a bench in a picturesque park on the corner and they sat in silence until Allie took a hefty swallow of the coffee. Her eyes watered as she tasted the famed coffee and chicory mix.

"Strong, huh? Believe it or not it's half steamed milk but the coffee and chicory are potent." Brodie's grin was crooked and boyish and Allie was instantly put at ease by his good-natured charm.

"Yes, strong is an understatement, spicy is more like it," she said, laughing as she dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief he offered her. "This really is the Old South isn't it? Linen handkerchiefs and chivalry and all the stuff of romantic legends."

"Yes ma'am! I suppose that's the reason so many influential writers were drawn to this rarefied atmosphere. It's the Big Easy and as far as scandal and secrets and unbridled hedonism go, well this is a hot-bed, literally, for the 'anything goes as long as nobody knows' way of life." Brodie smiled and raised an eyebrow and Allie's cheeks flushed pink as she realized he wasn't just boyishly endearing, he was sexy in an unintentional sort of way. "Don't drink the coffee if it's not to your liking Allie... did you mean it when you said I could call you Allie?"

"I like it, the first taste was surprising, that's all. Yes absolutely, call me Allie. So you and your mother run the Literary Society by yourselves, just the two of you?"

"Oh hell no! There's no way I could work with my mother full time, I'm just lending a hand while I'm home for the summer. I've just finished my second year of law school at Vanderbilt, by this time next year I'll take the Bar exam and if I pass I'll be one of those dreaded bloodsucking lawyers. You know, the sort of scoundrels Shakespeare swore should be eradicated to make the world a nicer place, how did he put it—'The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers'?"

"I don't know any lawyers, my parents were artsy people and anti-establishment. I mean my dad still is but my mom passed away last year... so who knows what or where she is now. When my parents divorced they refused to hire an attorney, they just printed out one of those disillusion of marriage contracts from some bizarre website. It might not have even been legal and my dad has been married like, three more times so he could be a bigamist, which would serve him right since he's definitely an asshole, what do you think?"

"What do I think? Hmm, I think you might be okay with lawyers but not too crazy about your father," he said, again with the disarming smile. His tosseled light-brown hair kept falling over one eye so that he raked his fingers through the mass of shaggy waves. His eyes were large and round and a color of blue that changed depending on his pattern of thought. They were darker as he listened intently to Allie speak and more crystalline when he laughed at something she said. "So you don't get along with your father or you just don't like the sort of man he is and the two of you have nothing in common?"

"Oh, who can say for sure? The only thing he and I have in common is that we both love literature and especially the great southern authors. That's his field of expertise, he's an American Lit professor... and a philanderer. He had... has a distinct weakness for his students, my mother was one of the first he lured into an affair... Anyway, literature is my great love and his as well, so I suppose it bothers me that I have that in common with a man I have no respect and very little love for. That's all, it's no big deal," Allie said and she glanced up with a small smile to find him watching her intently.

"Speaking of parents, we'd better get back or your mother will send out a search party, I would imagine," she said, throwing her half empty cup into a trash can as they walked back into the heart of the warehouse district. "So parts of this area are really upscale and fancy, I guess the renovation gods haven't made it as far as our street yet."

"Warfield Shipping owns entire streets and dozens of structures that it hasn't bothered with. The family has its fingers in a lot of important pies in a manner of speaking, worldwide shipping commerce is much more lucrative than historic preservation. There is one building they've fully restored, at least that's what I've heard, and no one has seen the inside as far as I know. It's this one," he said, stopping in front of an imposing façade with massive cypress doors. They were intricately carved with what looked to be a scene of Adam and Eve eating from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, the so called 'Tree of life'.

"The doors are fantastic, are they original? What's inside, is it a business or does someone live here? It must be apartments, this place is huge," Allie said and as she shielded her eyes from the sun and looked up at the full height of the structure she noticed that all of the exterior shutters were closed and bolted shut.

"Walden Warfield lives here, he's our most infamous eccentric and that's not a small distinction in a city known for its oddities. I doubt you'll ever meet him and you'd do well not to, although it was his father who brought you here, wasn't it? His late wife and my mother went to school together, they were both Tri Delts at Tulane and southern universities are all about well-bred popular sorority girls. Soooo, that was a thousand years ago. Mom and William the third have stayed in touch and now here you are. How is it that you came under the beneficent wings of the Warfield family?" Brodie asked, although he wondered if he really wanted to know. This girl was very different from any woman he'd ever seen in the company of the Warfield men, but if she was not a love interest to the elder William or his son, then what was the connection?

"Here we are," Allie said brightly when they reached the door of the Literary Society. "My mother was a love interest from Mr. Warfield's distant past, he's sentimental where she's concerned. That's all there is to it, I don't know him or his son William at all. Just casually, I mean, I've met them both, of course... Okay, well. Time to get down to it, right? I'm anxious to get a look at some of the personal letters written by Eudora Welty in particular."

There is no way this girl is not on the younger William Warfield's radar. Brodie thought as he watched Allie's sooo sweet ass outlined prettily beneath the silky fabric of her rather conservative dress. She must have chosen the Sunday school appropriate dress to avoid calling attention to herself but that was a definite fail. With an erotically curvy little high and tight ass like hers, not to mention the perky breasts that drew his attention like a pair of small supple peaches... to put it mildly the girl was the definition of 'sex kitten.'

Rumor was that the Warfield's liked their women a little on the trashy side, which Allie was not, so that was good because Brodie liked Allie. He liked the way she looked but more than that he liked the way she spoke about literature and the way she twirled a strand of blonde hair and stared deep into his eyes when she was making a point. He'd had his share of women but they all came to him, he had gotten lost somewhat as the little brother to four older sisters. Women ran the show as far as he could tell and with his good looks and good heart they chased him and he rarely ever ran. This girl was not like that, it was easy to see, she would not make the first move. He would just have to bide his time, wait for the right opportunity, and then ask her out on a date. The rest would be history, surely it was fate, Allie Darling was the girl for him.

*

"Wait here, I'll go get my car and be right back," Brodie said, lifting Allie's hand to his lips before he disappeared down the street. He had offered to show her a bit of New Orleans night life and she had gladly accepted since she was already smitten with the fabled city.

"Alaina," a stern voice came from behind her as she waited outside her office in the gathering twilight. There in the middle of the street leaning against a sleek black Porsche Panamera sedan was William Warfield the fourth. And damn if he didn't look like living breathing sex with his freaking suit and tie and long tall body that was all bulging muscles and last but not least his stop-the-clock gorgeous face.

"I'm driving you home so don't give me that look, Alaina. Rage all you want and call me seven times a son-of-a-bitch, it won't do any good. I'd forgotten that my father let the Literary Society move into this neighborhood, it's mildly safe during the day but as soon as the sun starts to set it's not a suitable area for you to be wandering alone. By the way, Brodie Maguire is a joke, I really can't imagine the two of you hitting it off. Do you understand what I'm saying or are you just ignoring me and shutting out my words? Allie, say something please," William said as he left his car and walked toward her.

"Brodie and I are going out for a drink in the French Quarter and then he's giving me a ride to the hotel. Why are you here William?" she asked and her voice sounded strange even to her own ears. The question was deeper than why William wanted her to go with him, the question was whether William wanted her to go with him on a much more intimate journey. "You've come here to drive me home? This city is not my home and you are not my keeper, William. I don't know what you are to me or what I've done to make you torment me so. You warn me that you're all wrong for me, that you have no interest in me whatsoever. Then you show up at my job acting like a jealous boyfriend, all alpha-male and domineering and I'm supposed to go all Southern belle and swoon or faint? Do you enjoy this, is it some kinky perversion of yours to lead women on? I mean seriously, you must know that you're freaking ridiculously hot and gorgeous and that any woman with eyes and estrogen and all those other raging female hormones is gonna want to sleep with you. You told me to go find a nice normal boyfriend and the first guy you see me talking to you swoop in to make sure I stay virtuous and untouched. Is that what's going on?"

"Hey, William would you mind moving your car out of the middle of the street? I'd appreciate it, buddy. Are you ready to go Allie?" Brodie had rolled his window down to speak to William but he decided to stop his car and get out. The look on William's face was clear enough, he had staked his claim on Allie. From the murderous look in his stormy eyes and the firm set of his jaw it was probably futile to argue with him. Fucking asshole, Brodie wanted to yell and then knock the living shit out of him.

The Warfield's ran the world or at least this part of it and if they set their sights on a woman her decency and reputation meant nothing to them. Women were a dime a dozen to a billionaire and cheaper than that to a billionaire who looked like William the fourth. Brodie might concede the night and let William drive her to her hotel but he had faith in Allie to keep her wits about her and not fall prey to his seductive charms. In the meantime he would not give up on her, but he stopped short before he reached her.

"She isn't going with you, Brodie. She's quite safe in my care, why don't you ask her? She belongs with me and she knows it. Now be sure and tell your mother I said hello." William said dismissing him as if he were an errant child.

BASTARD COCKSUCKER! Brodie didn't say it but he sure as fuck wanted to, the 'Mama's boy' implication was a low blow even for William Warfield.

Allie's heart had leapt into her throat, speaking wasn't possible and breathing was damned difficult as William moved between her and Brodie. He wore a white button down shirt and he methodically loosened his tie and removed his cufflinks all the while giving Brodie a look that could kill. He wants me! That was all she could think, the rational 'Stop acting like a caveman' part of her mind had deserted her. The worst part was that she liked the whole 'master of the universe' scenario and not because he was richer than rich and powerful beyond comprehension. She had never wanted a man the way she wanted William Warfield and it was clear that despite his earlier reservations he wanted her in the very same way.

"It's alright Brodie, I'll see you here in the morning, don't worry about me," she said and she couldn't believe she had regained her voice and sounded so nonchalant. She didn't feel nonchalant, she felt like she was about to hit the jackpot in the sex department. And yet she had spoken to nice, handsome, very available, soon-to-be a lawyer Brodie as if she intended to attend a church service with William and nothing more. What a devious little vixen she had morphed into practically overnight.

Chapter Six

"Where are you taking me, and what happened to the Maserati?" she asked as William's driver steered confidently through the winding cobbled streets and finally pulled into what looked to be an old train depot.

"I have more than one car and I'm taking you somewhere you've never been before," he said and before she could respond he clasped one big hand on the back of her neck and one on her waist and drew her to him. His lips silenced any word of protest she might have had. His kiss was deeply erotic, his tongue seeking hers and then retreating, leaving her wanting more as he gently sucked her bottom lip for an instant until she was moaning in his arms. Her fingers clasped at the back of his neck, holding his face close to hers as he trailed light kisses from the lips to her cheekbone and back down again. Even if she'd wanted to protest she couldn't have and it didn't matter where he was taking her, a volcano was erupting over and over down deep inside at her very core and all she knew for sure was that she wanted to feel the scalding heat of that eruption forever.

"We're here," he said, unlocking her hands from his neck and smiling at her soft cries of protest. "Come on, Alaina, follow me," he held her hand as they maneuvered through a poorly lit building that smelled of grease and dust and he caught her as she tripped over a shallow metal track. Just as her eyes adjusted to the gloom the overhead lights flashed on and she stopped and then turned in a slow circle admiring the vintage streetcars in the old car barn.

"Whoa! Are these original? They look vintage but weren't the old streetcars destroyed in Hurricane Katrina?" She asked, although she didn't especially care about streetcars at the moment. That long neglected region at the apex of her thighs was vibrating with need as she tried to imagine what he might have in mind for the evening's entertainment.

"They are originals built by the Perley Thomas Car Works in the 1920's, there are only a few of these historic beauties left working the rails on the city streets today. The newer red streetcars were lost in Katrina, water damage put an end to them. On the far side of the barn is the last car left from 1890, it's in perfect condition and handles maintenance work along the old streetcar lines." They stopped at the steps of one of the elegant green cars and William's strong hands circled Allie's waist lifting her onto the wooden steps. She glanced back at him and thought for sure the pounding of her heart must be visible through the thin fabric of her dress. The look of scalding desire in William's eyes was hotter than anything she had ever dreamed of. "Ready for a private tour of my world, Miss Darling?" he said, his voice was low and rough and she knew whatever was about to happen, she would never ever be the same girl she had been in the past.

*

The streetcar pulled out of the barn with only the two of them and the conductor aboard, and rambled along the rails skirting the river. The glittering mystery of the moon had replaced the vivid glare of the delta sun. Allie smiled to think of the word lunatic having to do with the effects a full moon had on normally sane men and women. She didn't feel sane as she strolled through the vintage streetcar, her hands reverently smoothing the polished mahogany seats and reaching out to touch the polished brass lanterns. Sexy, romantic, and unexpected—the streetcar and especially the man.

"I thought you might like a private tour of the city, Allie, and a streetcar named Desire seemed appropriate somehow. We can stop and have dinner... get off and walk along the river... or stay in here and see where we end up. We'll do whatever you feel like doing..." It took a tremendous force of will on William's part to keep from crushing her body to his, she was so enticing and sooooo unwittingly sexy. William had added greatly to the scope of his family's fortune by trusting his gut reactions and his reaction to Alaina Darling was unmistakable. When he thought of her or saw her face or smelled the subtle green grass and just picked tuberose scent of her hair and skin his brain shouted 'MINE!' Scores of women had tried to capture William Warfield time and again with their well-practiced feminine wiles, and without even trying Allie had bewitched him and he wasn't sure if he had the will or desire to break free of her enchanting spell.

She'd finished her tour of the streetcar's interior and now she stood before him, gazing up as he towered over her. Her eyes were wide grey-green pools he could so easily drown in, her skin was smooth as a baby's and creamy pale with that fine smattering of freckles, oh such a girl, so fine and so willing. Her eyes implored him to take her places she'd never believed could exist. Her hair shone like a curtain of gold in the soft light from the old gas powered lanterns and before he could stop himself his hands were lost in its silky fullness pulling her to him, his forehead resting against hers as he worked to slow the runaway freight train that his heart had become. He tried to be gentle but his need for her had ripped him to shreds through the night and day he'd spent without her and he was suddenly like a teenager, eager and greedy and intent on making her his own.

Allie matched his ferocity when his mouth claimed hers in a lust-driven kiss, her lips parting, her tongue licking into his mouth. Her hands grasping his powerful arms and then settling onto his broad sculpted chest. His body was a work of art, carved from massive slabs of rock-hard muscle. Her need to feel every plane of his body was like a fire in her gut, an aching need so intense that as she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt the cloth ripped under her fingers.

He smiled down at her and said, "Slow down baby, we have plenty of time, but God, I want you too."

His big hands slipped beneath her dress and cupped her perfect little ass, his breath catching in his throat as he lifted her. The blood was raging through his veins and he slammed her against the wall of the streetcar too hard. "I'm sorry baby, I'm sorry," he groaned against her lips.

She moaned as his teeth tugged at her lip, her legs circled his waist and her heels dug into his thighs. "Hurt me," she whispered, "show me how good it can hurt. You're dangerous William Warfield and that's what I want. It's what I need."

"Allie, no. I don't want to hurt you. I want to make you ache with pleasure until you come so hard that you'll scream my name, and then I want to do it again and again," he whispered against her velvety neck, reveling in the taste of her sweet-salty skin. His skilled fingers made quick work of the buttons on her dress and he pushed it off her shoulders. One hand reached behind her and unhooked her bra so that he cupped her bare breasts with his thumb tracing the tip of each sensitive nipple.

"Please!" she cried out as his hand skirted down her stomach, his long fingers pushing the silk panties aside and sliding over the long-neglected mound of her pussy. She didn't care about the conductor at the front of the car, to hell with him, to hell with everything but William's hands and his mouth and the sublime masculinity of his body.

William scooped her up as if she were light as a feather and laid her down gently on a polished bench. Her dress fell open and his breath hitched at the sight of her body so beautifully exposed and so trusting and expectant. He knelt over her, his big body molded to hers, her arms wrapped around him, her hands gripping his wide smooth/hard back, holding on for whatever decadent delight was to come. He kissed her lips, her neck and then his mouth captured an erect nipple and a shock of pain and pleasure pulsed through her. She arched toward him without thinking, a distinctly sexual response for more, wanting and needing him to continue, to go farther, to never let this erotic fantasy end.

"Ah," she cried as he moved from one throbbing nipple to the next, lost in the nearly unbearable bite of pleasure and close, so close to the edge of orgasm. "William, please!"

"Please what, darling girl? Please stop or please more?" He said as his fingers parted the scandalously wet folds of her pussy, his thumb circling her clit slow and easy until she began to quake and moan. She was so tightly wound and yet so responsive and then she was quivering and quaking and crying out his name as he slid a long finger inside her and she came apart at the seams.

"William... William!" she murmured, her arm was thrown over her eyes and her chest heaved from the power of her climax but he didn't give her time to recover.

His hands slid under her ass and lifted her hips up as his tongue licked over her still vibrating cleft and she was lost to reality once again. It was too soon, he knew her clit would be so sensitive she would have to ride the stinging pain for a moment until the hot erotic waves washed over her and took her beyond thought to a place where only touch and sensation and ecstasy mattered. She screamed when the power of the second orgasm hit her, screamed that it was too much and too powerful but mostly she screamed his name.

"I need you inside me, I want to feel you, I have to, please please please..." she was wild as she tore at his belt buckle and the zipper of his pants. She jerked at the waistband of his boxer briefs, pushing them down just enough so that he sprang free and she gasped at the sight. His cock was as beautiful as he was but it was a course primal beauty. Long and thick with a wide blunt head and ropey veins that pulsed with need. The need for her, she realized with sheer happiness as the large velvety head lay against the slick opening of her sex. Her hands held his face and drew his mouth to hers as he slowly pushed into the tight little glove of her pussy and they both moaned and began to move as one.

"Allie, fuck! Baby, you are so hot and so tight," he whispered against her ear as he thrust into her. He was fighting the urge to pound fast and deep into her sublime pussy as it gripped his cock, pulsing and massaging and driving him close to the edge of losing control. "Birth control?" He growled through clinched teeth as her hands gripped his ass, her hips rising up to meet his as she ground her clit against him and he plunged deeper and deeper.

"Yes... yes, I'm good, I take that shot. Ohhhhhhh, fuck!" She shouted as his cock hit the very end of her, pounding hard against that hidden sensitive spot that she never knew existed. The friction of his body, the feeling of his long thick cock stretching her and pushing her past her known limits was more than she could stand. She was beyond thought then, tremors shook every fiber and nerve ending in her body and she raked her fingernails down his back as the third orgasm sent wave after wave of pleasure surging through her.

"Allie, what have you done to me!" It wasn't a question but a cry filled with wonder and supreme satisfaction as he tensed and emptied himself for long moments into this incredible girl.

When they were too exhausted to move or speak they lay twined together, her arms held him close and his weight rested against her and one word was seared onto his heart and soul—mine!

*

"Allie Darling, what a revelation you are. I've never heard you use the word "fuck" before," he said, ushering her into the hotel's elevator. He pressed her into the wall, nuzzling her neck, scattering kisses across every angle of her lovely face, his erection thick and insistent between them, lengthening along his thigh from the nearness of her body.

"Hmm, I just couldn't help myself. Now you tell me why you changed your mind and decided to let yourself fuck me." She said, smiling wickedly at his look of surprise when the word rolled effortlessly off her tongue once more.

"Because of your eyes. They've changed over the last few days. They went from doe-eyed innocence to a blatant demand to be fucked. I know that look, you were going to give yourself to someone and although I have a strict rule about steering clear of honorable young women, I couldn't live with the idea of you with anyone else. It's that simple, I haven't progressed past the Neanderthal stage when it comes to you." He said, kissing her luscious mouth as the elevator opened into the vast lobby of his offices. "Come on, let me show you where I work when you're not disturbing my thoughts. Which means I haven't gotten a single thing accomplished since we met."

His offices were on what was known as the 'Upper deck' although it was two floors below the topmost deck of the ship. In its glory days when the ocean liner had carried passengers in ultimate luxury across the Atlantic this particular deck had housed the expansive formal dining rooms and kitchens. All of that had been stripped away leaving only large trapezoid shaped windows elegantly trimmed in gleaming teakwood. The cavernous space had been fashioned into offices and conference rooms centered on a grandiose lobby that stretched across the width of the ship from port to starboard. William's private office was at the far end of the ship, the stern or aft most end as it was called. There was a sleek and seamless wall of pivoting glass doors that opened to a deck that appeared to float on the horizon high above the water.

"This is just wayyyyy too much, how can one man need an office this... huge? But it is amazing. Oh wow, the view from these windows is spectacular, the river, the city and I suppose that's the Gulf of Mexico in the distance?" Allie said, taking in the priceless Art Deco onyx topped desk and vintage chrome and leather club chairs and then staring in amazement at the numerous Edward Hopper paintings that graced the walls. "My God, these are by Edward Hopper! Are they originals? Of course they are you're a billionaire, you can afford to own art that normal people only see in books and museums."

"I'd like to show you the view from outside and then we'll have dinner, if you don't have a date with Brodie that is." William frowned as he said Brodie's name, jealousy was a new experience for him and he couldn't say that he cared for it in the least. In fact it made him sweat just to think of Allie working in the same office as that ridiculous idealistic law student or going on a date with him. He made a supreme effort to stop his rampant imaginings before he really got pissed off and he pushed open a glass door to the deck and motioned for her to follow him.

It was a beautiful night, the moon and stars decorated the domed black sky and were reflected on the mirrored surface of the river far below. Classic wood chaise lounges were neatly lined up on the private deck and brass railings stood solidly at the edge to prevent a plunge into the sea.

"It's very unlike you, William. This deck, I mean, it's far too romantic for a man who fucks and wouldn't ruin himself with making love." Allie said, leaning against the polished railing to peer down into the reflective river and nearly losing her balance.

"Hey! Be careful, its long way down and if you break every bone in your body how will I be able to make... How will we have another chance to finish what we started earlier?" He asked, steadying her as she faced the water, his chest against her back, the implacable strength of his arms holding her still. The wind caught and lifted the hem of her dress and his hands moved to her thighs, caressing her sensitive skin as she pressed against him, her arms lifting to cradle his head as his lips brushed her cheek and then the edge of her mouth. "You're so sweet, so irresistible, Alaina. Should I make you scream my name again... and again... and again?"

His hands pushed her legs apart and she gripped the brass railing and shuddered when his fingers tore her panties away and gently massaged the stingingly sensitive clit he had so recently ravaged. She wondered at the mystery of it all as her newly awakened pussy quivered and pulsed toward yet another orgasm. How can this be real, how can this happen all of a sudden and out of the blue? It was all too easy, her coming to New Orleans, meeting William, sparks flying, and the orgasms that had eluded her for so long were multiplying, one after the other, like magic.

"William!" Was all she could manage as the monumental climax that had built and built exploded and tore through her as her hands let go of the railing and her legs gave way.

He caught her and swept her up into his arms covering her face and her lips with tender kisses as he carried her into his office. He sat her on the edge of his desk and as she struggled to catch her breath he sent pens and papers and files and phones flying to the floor with a swipe of his arm. Then he leaned her back and spread her legs and she cried out in shock and sheer bliss as his mouth worked yet another kind of magic.

Later on they lay tangled together on a sofa in the vast open lobby of his corporate offices, talking, laughing and touching. How they ended up in the lobby they weren't quite sure and they didn't care to know. It had been a night of mind-blowing sex, their libidos were in perfect synchronicity, they agreed on that.

"We should get up and put some clothes on before the janitor or one of your employees walks in on us. Look, the sun is rising, I'm going to my room and try to get a couple of hours of sleep before work." Allie said, standing up and following a trail of her clothes and shoes until she had gathered them all and began to dress while he watched her with a smile.

"You're incandescent, it's like you're all lit up on the inside," he said, pulling on his pants and shirt but never taking his eyes off of her radiant face.

"I'll just bet I am— glowing that is. William, I want to thank you for a night that was so far beyond incredible and I doubt that I'll ever have such good luck with sex again." She said, blushing although she didn't know why, the man had seen every inch of her up close and personal over the last hours.

He caught her in his massive arms and crushed her to his chest brushing her silky hair aside he kissed her deeply. "That had nothing to do with luck, Alaina, your body was made for pleasure, your own and the man who's fortunate enough to have your attention."

"No no, sex is not my thing, believe me, I've been told. And it's true, I know it for a fact, I've never been able to... I mean I've never had an orgasm..."

"Wait, what? You've never had an orgasm before? Allie, your little pussy is tight as a glove and sweet beyond belief, but I didn't think you were a virgin."

"Oh, good Lord no! I had a semi-serious boyfriend at Berkley and we... you know, we had sex and all but he was... sort of a fast finisher. So there wasn't much time for me to warm up and he really didn't want to exert himself since I wasn't very responsive..."

"You have got to be fucking kidding me! What kind of a quick-draw limp-dick twelve year old were you sleeping with? Fuck, Allie, you are maddeningly hot and so damned responsive it's unbelievable. So let me see if I get what you're saying. You've never had an orgasm when a man was... inside you?"

"Okay, let me make it perfectly clear— I've never had an orgasm when a man was in the same room with me."

"I'm speechless, that's incomprehensible. You've wasted your time with boys, Allie, I won't let you make that mistake again."

"I appreciate the great sex and the multiple orgasms, William, I really, really do. But I don't need you to be my pimp any more than I need you to be my keeper. You're not the boyfriend type, you said so yourself and I need to get that through my head because I know you're right. You can't change overnight or in a few days' time— it's just not possible. So, maybe I'll call you up sometime for casual sex. Goodnight, I mean good morning, William, and stop right there," she said as he walked toward her, his hands already missing the feel of her body. "I'm sure I can get to my room safely on my own."

*

"Hey boss, you look like a kid who didn't get what he wanted on Christmas morning. What's going on, William?" Tanya asked. She stood over his desk searching for a file she was sure had been on top of the stack the day before. "What the hell? Did you shuffle every file and document on your desk? I had everything in order and it looks like a tornado swept through here. Well, your problem can't be Marisa because I handled that psycho nut case and it cost you plenty, don't even ask how much. I hope you learned your lesson about having sex with women who might have a tendency to get attached to you. Lord, Marisa was a drain on my system, promise me you will not let that happen again. Oh good grief, are these your boxer briefs?" She asked, shaking her head as she fished them out of a potted plant. "I don't even want to know who you stayed up with all night long. Damn, boss. Here's some free advice from me to you, fuck in the much needed anonymity at The Cathedral or pick a sweet southern belle and get married. I promise, in the long run it will save you a lot of grief."

"Thanks for the advice, I'm going home to shower and change clothes and then I want to drive out to Greenlea and see Walden. He's not happy with the idea of spending the next few months in Switzerland. I doubt that he would go if Dr. Selig wasn't coming to personally escort him to the clinic. Thank you for arranging that by the way Tanya, sending the jet for Dr. Selig and for your powers of persuasion in convincing her to come to New Orleans. And I really owe you for helping Abigail with The Cathedral, it's not like we can trust just anyone in that environment. Looks like the job will last for the rest of the summer, how are you handling it? Give yourself a raise and Abigail too, you both deserve it." William said as he stepped into the elevator and the door began to close.

"Oh yeah, I meant to thank you for the raise. I'm exceptionally good at anticipating your every move boss, fear not, my sister and I have been very generously compensated. I do love to have my way with your checkbook!" She said, and he smiled and she laughed as the elevator door closed.

*

"Your brother would not have these troublesome issues, William, but he refuses to comply with my prescribed therapies. His Bipolar disorder is far out of control at this point, he has been functioning in a dangerously advanced manic phase and now he has crossed over into a state of extreme dysphoria. He's plagued with hypersexual behavior, an addiction to sex that consumes his every thought. Alright then," Eleanor Selig's eyes narrowed as she studied William, then she took a sip from a china tea cup and continued. "You aren't my patient, obviously, but this illness more often than any other tends to afflict multiple members in the same family. It's almost certainly inherited, have you any symptoms, William? And for the record, in my country we are not so politically correct in embracing this new term 'Bipolar'. It is what it is—Manic Depression."

"I appreciate your concern for my mental state, Dr. Selig, but I'm quite well I assure you. I do indulge in sex a bit vigorously and too often I suppose. But it is one of the true joys in life when a man and a woman connect on that most intimate level, wouldn't you agree?"

The good doctor blushed and raised her tea cup to her lips with an unsteady hand and William smiled and suggested that it was time to leave for the airport.

"One more thing I'd like to mention, William, something your father seems overly concerned with. Walden claims that he is in love with a woman. He's beginning to respond to his medications as I had your family doctor administer them in IV form immediately. Walden claims to have released the fantasy of your mother's ghost which he then replaced with the idea of a specific angel. Together he and I will work toward the truth that your mother's ghost was nothing more than a fantasy that plagued his mind in the extreme and that angels rarely appear to mortal men. To add fuel to the fire, so to speak, now his obsession has become an actual woman. A fair haired young woman who has ties to your father's past. I'm quite disheartened that the elder Mr. Warfield unwittingly showed Walden an image he had recently taken of the girl with his iPhone. Walden is convinced that he is quite desperately in love and the girl is his destiny, that delusion will be addressed at my clinic, but I did want to make you aware of the intensity of his fantasies were she is concerned. I understand from speaking with your father at some length that you have spent time with this girl Alaina. It will have a distinct bearing on how I deal with Walden's fixation on Alaina if you and she are intimately acquainted." Dr. Selig set her cup in its saucer, raised her left eyebrow in disapproval and waited for William to answer.

"Yes, I've spent time with her. We should go now, Dr. Selig, the jet is waiting and the departure time has been approved. The New Orleans airport is busy this time of year and we wouldn't want to forfeit that particular time slot. I'm sure you're anxious to have my brother in a clinical environment as soon as possible." William called for the butler and maid and asked them to bring Walden down to the car. "My father's driver will get you to the airport in the nick of time, thank you for your generosity in coming here and for your excellent care of my brother."

The doctor brushed her short black hair behind one ear and straightened her crisply pleated skirt as she turned to go. She hesitated and faced William, "I hold your family and your brother in high regard. As well, your brother's mental health is of the utmost importance and I must know certain truths so that I might guide him correctly. To that end may I be so bold as to ask if you are seriously involved with this girl, William?"

"I'm not sure," William said and immediately he was sorry the words had slipped out.

Chapter Seven

It was highly dangerous, William was well aware of the fact. Dangerous to let his foot rest so heavily on the accelerator that the Maserati Gran Turismo was barreling back to the city at one hundred and twenty miles an hour. Dangerous to think that his proclivity for sex anywhere but in the bedroom might be construed as an addiction. Above all, dangerous to think he was obsessed with Allie Darling.

The Cathedral was what he needed, Tanya was probably right about that. And if not The Cathedral, well he had a never-ending supply of condoms in the glove box of the Maserati, so random sex with a stranger in a semipublic location might wipe Allie's face from his mind. He parked the car in front of the Countess Warfield and threw the keys to a bellman in his rush to get to his office. In the elevator several teenaged girls were glued to their cell phones, thumbs flying furiously as they texted. A woman stood in the midst of the girls, she was older than William by at least ten years, thirty-seven or thirty-eight, he guessed. She was tall, slender and attractive and holding a dozen shopping bags from the boutiques in the lobby. The woman was flawlessly dressed and manicured and made-up, it was clear that she went to great lengths to achieve her perfectly polished beauty. She started to follow the girls when the elevator stopped on their floor but she hesitated as William tilted his head and his lips parted and she told the girls she would catch up with them later.

"I don't want to know your name and we won't kiss or talk about the weather. We'll fuck once, fast and hard, and that will be the end of it," William said and she nodded her head and dropped the shopping bags.

He hit the emergency stop button on the elevator as she stepped out of her panties. She pushed his suit jacket aside and quickly slid her hands down the tautly ridged muscles of his abs to his belt and zipper. When her greedy hand gripped his massive erection she whispered "Oh my!" as a delectably indecent thrill coursed through her. He ripped open the condom packet but he had to stop and look away from her when she spoke. Her voice was all wrong, her carefully crafted beauty was all wrong, she was just the wrong woman for him. William had never lost his erection before, he was always ready, always interested in something different and someone new, but he couldn't make himself touch her. She wasn't Allie Darling.

*

The only personal object that decorated Allie's office at the Southern Gothic Literary Society was a framed picture of her with her mother. Allie was about six or seven in the photograph and she looked happy but her face was rather plain in comparison with the effervescently lovely Liza. Maybe if I were as beautiful and enchanting and unforgettable as Liza then William would love me now and forever.

"Stupid thoughts go away," she said aloud and hoped Thelma had forgotten to put in her hearing aid. She didn't have to worry about Brodie listening in as she talked to herself like a mad woman, he had gone to an interview for a real job, as he put it. He'd grumbled about how low-rent it was to work at the law office of some sleazy piss-ant ambulance chaser, but it was good experience for his chosen profession. He was happy to leave the dusty stacks of books and hand written pages to Allie and his mother and he felt it would be good to put some distance between himself and Allie during the day so they would be excited to see each other when they dated in the evenings. His plan, not hers, but she agreed with him because he was so nice and so adorably handsome in his boyish way and so very, very open to an actual relationship. Unlike William Warfield. And what the freaking hell was it with nice girls who always fell hard for the emotionally screwed up and completely unavailable bad boys?

Allie had the overwhelming sensation of being watched just then and the office air was filled with the most delightful fragrance of fresh flowers. She stared out to the courtyard trying to decide where the smell was coming from when a movement in the hallway caught her eye.

"Is this going to be like a daily thing," she asked, trying her best not to smile or jump into his flower laden arms. "Should I expect you to drop by my office on the slightest whim? And come on, seriously, what's up with the flowers? Do you have a fixation on the whole Pride and Prejudice scenario, one minute you dislike me and the next minute you're standing in my office with an armful of flowers? Because honestly William, I would never have imagined you as a fan of Jane Austen." She promised herself that she would keep her eyes on the gargantuan bouquet and not look into his haunting dark eyes. He'd been so adamant that romance was for fools that she needed to be irritated with him. But instead she lifted her gaze to his and what she saw in his eyes made her feel as if she wasn't in this crazy love thing all by herself.

"Not a Jane Austen fan, but it seems I am a fan of yours. The flowers, yeah, I admit it's a bold gesture and clichéd as hell, but here I am holding this ridiculous bouquet and all because I needed an excuse to have one glimpse of your face."

The remark left her unable to utter a sound, he needed one glimpse of her face. She had never expected to hear such a romantic statement directed at her, and certainly not from a man as opposed to romance as William Warfield.

"I... love the flowers... and I have a date... tonight. Brodie's not in the office today but he's picking me up at the hotel in an hour," she managed to say and an array of conflicting emotions played across William's handsome face.

"Brodie's taking you out tonight, well that's wonderful, that's great news, Miss Darling." he said tossing the flowers on her desk, his eyes were like the darkest depths of the sea, a place too deep for the sun to penetrate. "I won't bother you again if your interest lies elsewhere, I wouldn't want to come between you and Brodie Maguire. The fuck I wouldn't! Why would you go out with him, Allie, are you looking for more of what you had last night? Please tell me that's not it, tell me you're not going to..."

"William, no! Is that what you think of me, that I fall into bed just like that? Well, thank you for your vote of confidence in my good judgment. And maybe I should rephrase that and leave out the word bed, you do have a reputation, you know. An aversion to beds and privacy and reputable women. Thanks again for the flowers Mr. Warfield, goodbye."

"Allie..." he said but he stopped when Thelma Maguire stuck her head through the door of Allie's tiny office.

"There you are Alaina, shouldn't you be on your way? It's past time to lock the doors and close for the day. Oh! Mr. Warfield, I didn't see you come in and oh my, what an absolutely breathtaking abundance of Peonies. Allie, darlin', you should hurry now, Brodie will be waiting and I'm sure Mr. Warfield understands how it is when a pretty girl has her first date in our romantic city."

"This isn't her first date," William snapped, "and Brodie should take you out to dinner Mrs. Maguire and save his energy. Allie and I are... she and I... we are... together. We've been seeing each other and I'm sure she was too nice to hurt your son's feelings but we are most definitely a couple."

"Well my God, you could knock me over with a feather! When on earth did this come about? Allie, why didn't you say something? That's fabulous news, of course, I didn't realize you cared for the concept of dating, Mr. Warfield. Oh dear, oh my goodness! Should I call Brodie now, Allie, and let him hear the news from me?"

"I think I should be the one to tell him, don't you William? It will come as a surprise to him just as it is... I mean, it was a huge surprise when you and I decided to become an honest to goodness couple. It totally took me by surprise. Oh to hell with it, you call him Thelma. William and I have places to go and things to, so lock up won't you? See you tomorrow," Allie said and she grabbed William's hand and led him out the door.

*

"So I don't have any say in this? Honestly William I should cause a scene and tell you to go away and never come back," Allie said as they stood next to his Maserati and she held out her hand for the keys. "If you and I are a couple I should at least get to drive your car, don't you agree?"

"Allie, you are welcome to drive my car anytime, darling girl, and I'm sorry I was a little slow to catch on to the idea of monogamy. We'll have to play it by ear and see how it goes, this is new to me and I'm sure you're going to make me pay in some way..." That was as far as William got before Allie reached up and pulled his lips down to hers. It was one of those kisses that led straight to a bed or a desk or a streetcar and when it ended they leaned heavily against each other breathing hard.

"You're right Mr. Warfield, I am going to make you pay... I'm going to exact a certain punishment at least. Now, hand me the keys and get in the car."

She drove fast, handling the car like a pro and William was impressed. She turned into the parking lot of the Audubon Aquarium and zipped into a parking space in one smooth motion.

"The Aquarium is open tonight for a private fund raiser, I'm surprised you weren't invited," she said hopping out of the car and pulling him along with her to a side entrance.

"I was invited but I never attend these black-tie affairs, what the hell are we doing Allie?" He wanted to touch her, to fuck her, to take her to his bed and discover what it was like to 'make love' for the first time in his life. But she gave him a quizzical look, held a finger to his lips when he started to speak and led him through the door into the brightly colored undersea world.

"Shhh," she said when he asked her again and pointed out that they were severely under-dressed for the party. She'd met with the director, Mr. Lansing, earlier at the Aquarium to discuss the details of the benefit since the proceeds would be given to restore literary landmarks in the city. She looked for him now, weaving through the gaily dressed crowd and when she found him she asked to have a word with him alone and told William to wait for her, she would be right back.

"All set, we have twenty minutes alone in the shark tank, come on William, we have to make the most of our time," Allie said and she nearly doubled over with laughter at the horrified look on his face.

"For fuck's sake, Allie, what's this all about?" He demanded as they entered a room where the floor, walls and ceiling were all made of glass. They were surrounded to the sides and above and below by every size and species of shark imaginable. They were frightful and awe-inspiring creatures, lethal and beautiful and terrifying at once. It must have been feeding time because they swarmed suddenly as blood and chum floated down from above.

"You don't do beds and I want to do you, so here we are and why not? Lean back against the glass and relax Mr. Warfield, you've unleashed an erotic creature inside me and I like it. I also intend to have you inside me ASAP but first things first. Since our time alone in here is limited would you mind helping me out by unbuckling and unzipping your pants? I've decided to walk on the wild side and do whatever I want and right now I want to suck your amazing cock."

"Such a pretty little mouth to speak such dirty words and intentions, I'll stop that bad habit before long," he said, but he had followed her instructions and as she knelt before him and ran her little cat's tongue over the head of his cock he was utterly speechless.

Allie had never given a blow-job before but she was a fast learner and Google and YouTube had some wildly informative videos. She held the shaft of his cock in one soft slender hand, and wrapping her fingers around its thickness she could feel his blood surging through the ropey veins. Her mouth used all the skills she had learned a few more she made up as she went along, sucking and licking and drawing him in deeper as he sank back against the cold glass wall with his hands buried in her thick blonde hair. His moans spurred her on and the sight of the terrible sharks lurking just behind the wall of glass had them both in a fevered frenzy.

William pulled out of her mouth suddenly and held her away from his body until he regained control. Then he drew her hard against him and his hand was under her skirt and dragging her panties down before she could protest.

"Face the glass, place your hands on it and spread your legs, do it quickly Alaina," he said and one hand reached in front of her so that his fingers caressed her swollen clit as he guided his cock to the trembling opening of her sex from behind. She pressed back against him and he moved forward as she did and he was inside her, sheathed in her, pumping and filling her deeper and harder until they both seized and shuddered and fell over the edge together.

*

"Allie Darling I have to admit you never cease to amaze me," William said as they left the Aquarium and drove toward the French Quarter. "That was intense, there's no other way to describe it. Before you completely overwhelmed all my senses in the shark tank I had an idea for an entirely new way that we might want to have... sex. But only if you're brave enough and willing to work with me to try it out."

"Sounds interesting and I would think by now you can see that I'm willing to follow wherever you lead, Mr. Warfield. What is this novel idea of yours, does it involve getting naked on a Mardi Gras float or having me parade around in a leather bra and crotchless panties at some bizarre sex club?" She gave him a wicked smile and then her big grey eyes turned serious and questioning when he parked in front of his town house.

"William what are we doing here? I'm still staying in the suite on the ship."

"Stay with me Allie, try living here for a while and if you're not happy... well you can decide that later. My idea... my wish and my great desire is to make love to you in my bed and have you stay and sleep next to me... wrapped in my arms. Is that something you might consider?" He was so earnest and almost shy when he told her his idea, and he was less "buttoned down" and more relaxed in his demeanor. His shirt sleeves were pushed up to his elbows and his jacket and tie were carelessly tossed on the back seat of the Maserati.

"I think it's a wonderful idea, William, the best idea I've heard in forever. Let's go up to your room and roll around in your big bed and make so much noise that Miss Hawkins and the others will want to have us arrested," she said and he held her fingertips to his beautiful lips and he kissed them one by one and then pressed her palm to his thundering heart. "I don't think I've given you enough credit Mr. Warfield. I was drawn to you by the overwhelming sense that you are an overtly masculine and powerfully dangerous predator and now I find that you're also a true romantic. Take me to your bedroom William and make love to me and with me but just so you know, I'm always down for our kinky sexcapades with a hint of danger and the rush of being discovered. Now that you've uncovered my scandalous side, I don't think we should deny it."

"I don't intend to deny you anything, darling girl," William said, leading her up the stairs to his bedroom and trapping her against the open door before they went in. He kissed her forehead and her cheeks and the edges of her pouty pink mouth, his erection pressed into her thigh and her breath hitched and her cheeks flushed. "I do intend to make you very happy that you gave up your date with Brodie Maguire and chose me. Now let's try that love making idea and I warn you, we might not get it right the first time. So we should commit to do it as often as necessary and that means as much and as frequently and as intensely as possible."

*

Allie was contented and glowingly happy the next morning as she and William sat in his car kissing and touching and laughing like a couple of teenagers before he dropped her off at the Literary Society. Thelma Maguire pursed her lips and gave them a nasty look as she unlocked the office door and Allie buried her face in William's neck to inhale his spicy clean male scent once more before she said goodbye for the day.

"I'll send a car to take you home this afternoon, meaning your home with me in the townhouse. And I don't think I've had the chance to tell you about the house I'm restoring in the Garden District. It's far too large and hasn't been renovated since the early nineteen-hundreds, but more about that later. I have a lot of work to catch up on today thanks to your beguiling charm and beautiful face and pretty little ass and all your other distracting parts. I'll be home to you and our bed as soon as I can. My father's butler has been trying to reach me all morning and I hope that doesn't mean I have to drive out to Greenlea. Alright darling girl, think of me... think of us and we'll live out our fantasies tonight," he said, kissing her deeply, drinking her in as her arms wrapped around his neck until neither of them wanted to leave.

William drove to the Countess Warfield and headed up to his office with a renewed sense of purpose. Business matters had gotten out of hand while he was distracted by his unquenchable need for Allie, and now that she was safely ensconced in his heart and his home, he could get back to work.

Tanya rushed into his office and paced back and forth in front of his desk talking ninety miles an hour.

"Sit down and slow down Tanya, please. I can't understand what you're saying. Please, take a deep breath and start over," William said leaning forward in his desk chair. Tanya rarely let anything upset her but she looked pretty well flustered as she settled in a chair across from him.

"Your father has had a heart attack, William. They've stabilized him for now, he was airlifted to Tulane Heart and Vascular two hours ago and they're running tests and keeping him in intensive care for the time being. Wait William, that's not all there is to it. Walden is not with Dr. Selig. He's not in the clinic and we're not even sure if he's still in Switzerland. Dr. Selig says he had a severe psychotic break, as she called it, as soon as they arrived in Lausanne. She believes that he wasn't swallowing the medications she gave to him once he was in her care. He's in an extremely manic and volatile state right now and he could cause harm to himself and others. The Swiss police have been informed and security at the airports and train stations are on alert.

"I'm so sorry about your father William, and Walden will be found. It's useless to ask you not to worry but I've already got our Warfield Enterprises entire security force on top of this situation. They have a network of connections that reach far and wide, they'll leave no stone unturned until they find Walden and return him safely to Dr. Selig," Tanya had barely drawn a deep breath as she spoke and finally she exhaled and the look of agitation and fear in William's eyes nearly broke her heart.

"Alright, I should go see my father first... but Walden, if anything happens to him Tanya... FUCK!" William raked his fingers through his dark hair and loosened his tie and then tore it off and threw it in the waste basket beneath his desk. He covered his face with his hands and took a deep breath and then he shook his head to clear away all the awful scenarios of Walden allowing himself to be beaten to death or dying from an overdose or God knows what other terrors.

"I want you to get hold of Abigail and have her send out notices that The Cathedral is closing its doors until further notice, we can't deal with that insanity right now," William said and Tanya interrupted him.

"That's taken care of, boss. Abigail and I met there an hour ago, we sent private emails to the members and we locked everything up. I'm turning my full attention back to business here in the office and that frees you up to go and see your father. You should go to him, stay by his side in case he requires surgery. I'll text updates to you every half hour as I get them from our security team and Dr. Selig. We'll get to Walden in time William, don't dwell on those bad memories from your past. You know your brother, he just likes to have his freedom, he's probably out sailing on Lake Geneva. Go to the hospital, it will all be good."

*

Allie was fed up with the daggers shooting from Thelma's eyes every time they looked at each other. Brodie must not have been too happy when his mother informed him that Allie was basically dumping him in favor of William Warfield. Although it wasn't that big of a deal as far as she could see. Brodie knew she was seeing William since he was prone to show up at her office and whisk her off at a moment's notice. Last night would have been one date and nothing more, what did Brodie think, that she would fall madly in love with him just like that? She had fallen madly in love with William just like that, and that put an end to her interest in any other... any lesser sort of man.

"I'm walking over to the Roasted Bean for a cup of coffee Thelma, can I get you anything?" Allie asked and she rolled her eyes and was out the door when Thelma shouted a firm "NO!"

"Damn, talk about holding a grudge," Allie murmured as she stood in line waiting for her cafe au lait.

She had come to crave the taste of the special New Orleans coffee laced with chicory. It was dark and fiery hot and decadent just like the erotic pleasures she'd come to crave with William. There was no denying that she was in love with him but she was also in love with his heart-stopping beauty and the elegant masculinity of his hard, sculpted muscles and primal sexuality of his long thick cock. Just the thought of him, his huge body deliciously draped across the big canopy bed, his eyes filled with lust and the afterglow of their love making. He reminded her of a languorous and well sated lion as he stretched and drew her body close to him and curled around her, refusing to release her, holding her close all through the night.

She had walked to the park bench to sit and enjoy her coffee and she must have been smiling at the images in her head when William's voice broke her reverie.

"You do have the most angelic smile Alaina, what were you thinking about just then?"

"I was thinking of you," she said looking up and shielding her eyes from the glare of the morning sun. She couldn't see his face as he stood with the sun behind him, only his tall powerfully built body in silhouette. He knelt in front of her then, smiling and it took several minutes before her eyes adjusted and she saw his face clearly.

"Oh!" she said abruptly, spilling her coffee onto the grass as she stared into his smoky-brown eyes and incredibly beautiful face. "I thought... I thought you were William."

"No, I'm not my brother. You're Alaina, my father and your mother were in love... but that doesn't matter. I haven't seen my brother in several days, I miss him, he's the only hero I've had in my life. Would you like to go for a walk Alaina?" Walden asked, he couldn't stop staring at her. She was indeed an angel, her beauty couldn't be of this world and yet, here she was, a flesh and blood woman. She was a mystery, a beautiful magnificent mystery for him to discover.

"I thought you were... unwell? William didn't say you were here in the city. We've been preoccupied, it must have slipped his mind," she said, blushing as she contemplated certain erotic activities that had kept them so pleasantly occupied. "I should get back to my office, I've been gone too long as it is. I work a few blocks from here..."

"Yes, I know, at the Gothic Society, we own the building. I'll walk with you if you like," he stood and took her hand in his and studied it as if it were a small rare bird he had accidently caught.

She laughed and said, "It's just a hand, Walden, not one of the Seven Wonders of the World!"

He lifted his eyes to hers and they were filled with wonder and she laughed some more and it was the most delightful sound he had ever heard. Her laugh was light and melodic like the sound of wind chimes, like the bright magical sound of small bells ringing in the heavy air that moved across the bayou.

"This is where I live," he said when they had walked along the cobbled streets toward her office. He stopped in front of the doors intricately carved with the scene of Eve taking the apple from the serpent and offering it to Adam. "Would you like to come inside Alaina? I've had the interiors restored and it's all amazing and... I think you'll be surprised. Out here from the street you can't imagine the splendor, it's very elaborate and I'd like to show you."

"I am so late as it is," she said, reaching for her purse to check the time on her cell phone, but she had left her purse on her desk and she'd only grabbed a few dollar bills to pay for the coffee. Oh to hell with it, she wasn't anxious to face old sour-puss Thelma any way. "Alright, Walden, I'd like to see your home. And you're right, I'm sure to be amazed."

His smile was one of serenity and purest joy as he swiped the red keycard and led Alaina by the hand into his sanctuary... and his world.

END

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