The only part of the hotel room that interests me is the king-size bed. Entering the living space, I set my clutch and Jack’s book on the coffee table and slip out of my shoes at the same moment. Why waste time? Jack steps up behind me and pushes my hair aside. He brings his other hand around my waist, resting it on my stomach. I feel his breath as he dips his head to kiss the space between my shoulder and neck. Leaning back against him, he slowly kisses his way to my ear.
This man is heaven. I feel as if I could fall in love with him in an instant. I have missed this feeling, even more so than I realized. His right-hand dips into my blouse and he gently massages my breast over my bra for a moment, before his fingers push inside of the lacey material and cup my bare breast. I can’t help but moan. Wanting more, I turn toward him. My mouth is greedy on his as I unbutton his shirt, peel it off and throw it on the floor. I step back, and he pulls my blouse over my head. I unhook my bra, letting the undergarment fall on the growing pile of clothes.
We are completely in sync with each other. There’s no awkwardness. It’s as if we’ve done this a hundred times, but the excitement is still fresh. With his hands at the small of my back, he bends down to kiss and suck my breasts. Letting my head fall back, I close my eyes. Good call on the skirt with the elastic waist.It is easily pulled down along with my panties and kicked aside. Everything about Jack is extraordinary. He takes me to the bed, stopping to grab a condom out of his suitcase. We take our time, savoring every inch of each other. Jack brings me right to the brink of pleasure with his expert tongue and hands.
Ready to feel him inside me, I push him onto his back. He enters me as I straddle him, sitting up to kiss me while I begin to ride. He holds on to my backside, guiding me up and down. There is no hurry, only a desire to feel him. I think of how I would love to be locked with him, like this, forever. It’s been a long time since I felt anything for any man, and I luxuriate in this. I don’t let myself hope for too much, but it’s hard when I feel as if I am coming back to life, after two centuries.
Feeling my climax, I quicken my movements until I cry out. Jack grips me tighter, bringing me down, again and again, until he climaxes. He collapses backward, pulling me down on top of him, and we lay panting on the bed. He continues to hold me tightly as I lay with my head on his chest. Feeling like life has returned, I listen to his heart beating, his breath exhaling rapidly on the top of my head.
“I won’t be cliché and say that was amazing,” he says into my hair.
“Neither will I.”
An hour later, I’m reluctantly dressing to leave.
“You can stay,” he says from the bed.
I lean down to kiss him long and slow. He tries to pull me back into bed, but I pull back.
“I have some things to do early in the morning.”
He looks skeptical but doesn’t say anything.
“Maybe we can do this again tonight,” I offer.
“We better do this again, as soon as possible.”
“Text me when you’re free.” I blow him a kiss, as I leave the room.
Smiling and feeling blissful, I lean against the wall of the elevator, pressing my fingers to my lips. I feel just as I did over two hundred years ago, after being with Julien for the first time. I try to remind myself Jack clearly isn’t Julien, not as I knew him. But, whatever this is and whoever he is, I’ll take it.
Once home, I shut the door behind me with only twenty minutes to spare before sunrise. Slipping off my shoes at the threshold, I walk into the living room. Alexandre has an open book in his hands, while Annie plays with her phone. Annie looks up and her eyes narrow, “Well, well, well. It looks as if the cat got the mouse.”
“Maybe,” I say, throwing her a wink.
Alexandre glances at me over his book.
“Don’t worry, Alexandre. Everything is fine. Better than fine.”
I turn and bounce up the stairs. I’m too exhausted to change, so I peel off my clothes before diving between the silky sheets. Just as I’m about to drift into nothingness, my door opens.
Alexandre sits on the edge of my bed, looking down at me, in a way that is familiar. He hasn’t looked at me that way in at least one hundred fifty years, it gives me the bad kind of shivers. I pull the blankets up higher.
“What? I’m tired.”
“I’ve missed you, that’s all. Maybe I could sleep in here tonight?”
“Are you joking? We haven’t shared a bed in well over a century.”
“Don’t get excited, I just want to sleep in here, so we can talk. I’ll be a good boy.”
I’m almost dumbfounded, I forget how to speak. Alexandre must take my silence as an invitation because he gets up to move to the other side of the bed. I find my voice damn quick.
“Alexandre, not tonight. If you want to talk, I would love to do only that, tomorrow. It’s freaky for you to sleep in here. You know I’ve just slept with another man.”
Alexandre looks at me with a cold, unsmiling face. “As you wish. You have to know that I can’t allow this, Mills. You had your fun tonight, but this needs to be the end of it,” he says as he moves toward the door.
I think he must be joking and laugh. “It’s almost dawn, my dear maker. Can we be funny tomorrow?”
“I’m deadly serious, Mills. This is going to end up being more than just play, I can see it in your face. I forbid you from seeing him again. There are details you don’t know about our ways. I have kept you safe, naïve all these years. Therefore, I’m telling you as your master, to end it.”
My mouth drops open, but before I can respond, Alexandre leaves the room. He has never called himself my master before, and I don’t like it one bit. What this tells me is Alexandre thinks of me as his property. He should know me well enough, to know this would be something which would upset me, having been considered property by my husband and my father. His sudden coldness reminds me of my father and how fearful he made me feel as a child. But, before I can think two more thoughts, I’m out.
***
Summer 1763, Burgundy Region, France
Trying to still my breathing is difficult with the fragrant blooms of lavender all around me. I want to bury my face in the buds and inhale deep gulps of scented air. If I do that, I’ll be found out and lose the game.
“There you are!” exclaims Blanche.
Laughing, she runs toward me, black hair swinging loosely behind her, dark brown eyes shining with motherly love. The only motherly love, I’ve ever known.
“How did you find me?” I giggle.
“It was hard. You’re becoming better at hiding, all the time.”
She scoops me up into her strong arms. My arms and legs, long for my age, wrap around her. If only I could always feel safe and warm, like this. Having just turned seven, I am already quite tall. I know she will not be carrying me much longer.
Blanche sets me on my feet, taking my small, delicate hand in her strong and steady one. We turn toward the chateau, walking side by side.
“I fear father will be home soon.”
“Hush, child. There is nothing to fear.”
I know this isn’t exactly true. Everyone at the chateau finds my father scary. He was grumpy and mean. Several times, I saw him put good people on the street for the slightest offense. When I kneeled for my evening prayers, I always asked God to watch over Blanche, the closest person I’ve ever had to a real parent.
“What will we read today?” I asked, hoping for another delightful story.
“Today, we will work on your writing. We have been neglecting schoolwork. Your penmanship is atrocious. My lord is adamant you possess the learning of a noblewoman.”
I moan, kicking at the grass under my feet. I hate writing endless lines of the alphabet. A protest begins to form on my lips, when the very clear sound of wheels crunching over gravel reaches my ears.
My body tenses and my eyes look up at Blanche. Her warm, loving face has changed. It is now hard, cold, but I know it is not a look for me, but for who may be arriving. She drops my hand. Bending down in front of me, she quickly straightens my dress and pulls lavender buds from my hair.
Father is seldom around. His absences are the only time I am truly happy. Blanche allows me such freedom. There is running, playing, and laughing. It seemed as if nothing joyful was ever allowed when father was home.
We haven’t seen him for two years. I try to remember what he looked like, but I can’t picture him clearly. I only know how I feel. A shiver moves through me, even though I stand in the hot, summer sun. Why can’t he just stay away forever?
Blanche and I walk to the front of the house, then stand like statues by the main door, waiting for the carriage to pull up. I feel sick but do my best to imitate Blanche. Standing with your back perfectly straight is hard, and my knees shake.
“Be still, Millicent,” Blanche whispers.
We wait, in silence, as the footman places the block in front of the carriage door. Father doesn’t wait for the footman but opens the door himself and steps out. He squints his gray eyes in the bright sunlight, causing his entire face to crease. Turning back to the carriage, he offers his hand to a woman, now stepping out onto the block.
She is tiny and very young. Her light brown hair catches the light, making it look red for a moment. I can’t help but think her big, round, dark eyes remind me of a doe. The kind I’ve seen many times galloping around the edges of the lawn. I can’t explain it, but I want to tell her to run, to stay in the carriage and go home. Wherever that is.
The woman takes father’s arm and they walk the short distance up the stairs to where Blanche and I wait.
“Millicent, this is your new mother, Sabina. I shall finally have an heir.”
Being an unwanted girl, I have heard father say this before. I curtsy to this young lady, almost the same size as myself. Sabina regards me coldly, then turns to walk into her grand, new home. And the day had started so well.
Three years later, father caught us in the schoolroom, laughing and dancing. He dismissed my beloved Blanche on the spot. I never saw her again.