The Desire

Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

REMINGTON

I don’t know how to be around Elouise without a buffer.

I’m a strong man, and when I put my mind to something, I can be stubborn as all hell. But that also goes for when I want something, I don’t walk away from it either. Or more correctly, her!

I want her, badly, and it’s getting harder to stay away from her the more I get to know the real El.

My first impression of her was a shy woman that lacked a little confidence when in a situation where she felt out of her depth, like when she first walks into a society event with hundreds of people she doesn’t know. The snobby rich society women look at her like she doesn’t belong, but sure enough, she proves them wrong as soon as she opens her beautiful mouth and speaks with intelligence and kindness. But when it was just us as a group, her beautiful personality truly started to shine, and she actually has a spark inside that she needs to show the world more. I see it every time she is with Blaise, and I can imagine it’s the same when she is with her class at school, but I do feel she lets it dim a little when she is in unfamiliar territory. I’m just glad I’m no longer in her unfamiliar territory.

My restraint in all areas of my life is top notch, but for some reason, she weakens my strength in ways that I have never struggled before.

I need to snap out of this Elouise trance and do what I need to for Nic, or more simply put, just do my job.

At least she has left me here on my own for a while, and I can concentrate on checking out this place. Not that I was that keen on her heading into the village on her own, but I need to remember that she is a grown woman who survived this world perfectly fine without me. Not a concept I want to accept, but for now I have no choice.

Taking my time, I move from room to room taking photos and checking on structure. All the rooms that have been restored are actually in good shape. They look terrible aesthetically, but the building is in a good condition and a solid base for Tori to make it all look better with her design magic.

At the end of the smaller corridor that leads off the main hallway on the ground floor is the doorway that was installed to separate the house from the area that’s not been touched yet with restoration. I’m not sure what I’m walking into, but one thing I’m sure of, it will be dark, dirty, and probably smell like something died in here.

Finding the right key, the door creaks open, and I doubt it’s been opened in a very long time. The previous owner’s children don’t live around here and had left the keys with the booking agent for me. Using the flashlight I packed in case I needed it, I start looking into rooms that are like the others on this floor, just in poor condition. Some are bigger than others. The bigger ones could be used as reception or conference rooms, or perhaps luxury rooms with ensuite bathrooms built into them. Not my problem to worry about, but even with my limited styling ability I can see potential. I can also see the ability to get technology and security measures installed without it encroaching on the historical nature of the building.

At the end of the hallway, the last door leads me into a huge commercial-sized kitchen that looks like it could easily be adapted to run the hotel’s catering needs. I know Tori is keen to host weddings here, and it would be the perfect location for that charming classical feel, along with great options for wedding photos. I can’t help it that my hobby of photography is always in my thoughts when looking at something. But the electrical fittings here might need a fair bit of work to get it up to standard for modern appliances and the voltage drain it would take on the power circuits.

I jot more notes into my phone that we will need a rewire, which we already assumed anyway but know from past experience is hugely expensive. There is no way a building this old will have safe wiring, let alone be able to cope with the power needed for today’s technological needs.

Taking more photos with my phone, I get to the last door on the right of the big thick wooden back door of the building. The door is stuck but nothing a small shove with my shoulder can’t fix, and it opens to complete darkness and my flashlight shows steps leading down into what I assume is the cellar, or should it be called a dungeon in a castle?

I smile to myself at what I thought the moment I knew I was heading here with El. This was where I figured it would be safer for me to sleep, but there is no way in hell I would be game to spend one more minute down here than I need to. I have no idea what would have happened here over the life of the castle, but I don’t think I want to know.

Thank God we will be paying contractors to come and clean it out and do the work we need here. But what I can see is that the ceiling is high enough for us to be able to use the space to run wires and cabling that will be needed upstairs and have it hidden from sight. And knowing Nic and Flynn, this will make a perfect wine cellar for them, cold and damp, or as they would say, a perfect wine storing temperature. One of the things with many of the older buildings we have across Europe is that they usually have an underground space of some sort that has been converted to a wine cellar by the previous owner or us once we purchase it. With the clientele we attract to our hotels, they have money, and they like luxury. With that, they expect good food and high-priced, good-quality wines.

Most of the rooms down here are just bare stone brick walls that have either a door in it, most of which are broken, or a few still have iron bars. Obviously at some time in history they were used for not great reasons. The last door at the back of the room is locked, but a piece of it has fallen, leaving a small hole in the door large enough that I can see inside.

“Holy shit.” The surprised whisper falls from my mouth, jaw open, while I blink to see if it is what I think it is.

Out of the whole building, this room is probably the most modern and in the newest condition. I need to get inside the room and check this out.

I methodically go through the keys on the key ring, but none of them work in this lock. Maybe the key is hidden somewhere here. I start to feel around the bricks to see if there is one of those secret spots like you see in the movies, but everything feels solid and there is no chance that anything is a false brick.

I know this isn’t our building yet, and I shouldn’t be doing any damage, but if I know Nic like I think I do, this is already a done deal. He wants to give his soon-to-be wife a castle, so that’s what he will be doing. Besides, one damaged door won’t matter, and if it does, I’ll pay to fix it myself.

The hole in the door is at the top of the panel in the center. Pushing hard with the bottom part of my palm, it starts to crack down a little farther. The harder I push, the lower the crack goes, until finally more of the wood breaks away and crashes into the room. A gap opens up, big enough I can get my arm in and down to the back of the handle, and I unlock it from the inside. As I pull my arm back through, the jagged edge catches my shirt and the cotton tears, and I can feel a sharp pain down the side of my bicep.

“For fuck’s sake.” Losing my patience with trying to do this gently, I pull my arm out as I feel warm blood start trickling down my arm.

Taking my shirt off, I turn it inside out to the clean part and wrap it around my arm to stop it from bleeding any more and to keep it as clean as I can. Who knows what germs are down in this dark place. Finally, I open the door to the room that has me so intrigued. Panning the flashlight around, I find the light switch, but when I flick it on and off, nothing happens. The wiring has probably been chewed through by rats since the room hasn’t been used for a while.

The moment I step into the room, my suspicions are confirmed. But there is way more than I need to see.

“I suppose age doesn’t matter these days.” I look around the room at the photos that are framed and hanging proudly on the deep-maroon-colored walls. I assume they are of the old couple who owned the castle before they both died and left it to their children. This room could very well be the reason the kids didn’t want anything to do with the property, and I can’t blame them. Not sure I would want to see my parents in that light either; knowing they have sex and seeing what sort of sex are two very different things.

In the corner is what looks like a St Andrews’ cross, and beside it is a spanking bench. Another apparatus I’m not sure about looks as if it is used to suspend a person from the ceiling. There’s a rack along the wall that contains multiple whips, paddles, and floggers, and to the side is a large bed with straps attached to the headboard. And lastly, in the center of the room, is a swing that looks like it would give the perfect position to have a fucking good time with your partner, literally.

Holy shit, this is a lot, and they have obviously knocked down a few walls to combine a few of the rooms to make this one big room when they set it up.

Grabbing my phone from my pocket, I can’t get a signal, so I take the photos I need to send to the guys but just make sure the photos on the wall aren’t in them; they’re not my pictures to share. As I walk back upstairs, my arm starts to hurt more, and I know I should get El back here to take a look at me, but I don’t want to scare her. So, I just message her with part of the reason I need her here. Someone needs to be my witness.

Because no one is going to believe me that this old castle contains a modern sex room in its basement. With naked photos of a few perhaps fifty-year-old naked people in various sexual positions on the walls and one of the same couple later in life in their seventies. A selfie where they have a black fluffy blanket draped over them in bed, naked from the shoulders up, and she is lying on his shoulder, looking lovingly up into his eyes and he into hers. It is framed and placed on a table in the corner of the room with a candle next to it. I mean, as someone who loves the art of photography, they are tasteful and artistically done but just not what I was expecting, that’s for sure.

I head back into the main part of the building and find the small kitchen that is on the ground level in the restored part of the castle, checking all the cupboards for a medical kit. But there is nothing in sight except for a few cans of tomatoes and some dry pasta, a box of tea bags, and some sugar packets, and weirdly, a bottle of oil with no label on it. My mind goes to places it shouldn’t for what that oil is used for in this house, but surely it wouldn’t be in the kitchen.

I can’t remember how long ago Nic said that the owners died except for the fact that they died within four months of each other. Bizarre but in a way cute, I guess. Tori went on and on in the meeting about how romantic it was, but seriously, how can you find romance in death? I’m guessing it must be a woman thing, because listening to Tori and El talk, they can find romance in anything they put their minds to.

Deciding I’m better to just wait for El to deal with my arm, I start taking a walk around the outside of the building and check out the gardens. It has been let go, but besides the atrocious decorating and that room downstairs in the dungeon, the old place is growing on me. Not that I have anything against sex rooms or clubs, but it’s just not my thing.

I spend my life protecting people and especially the ones I care for. I can’t think of anything harder for me than to hurt them in any way, even if they enjoyed it. It’s just not in my nature. And that is my biggest conflict with what I do with Cherie.

Suddenly flashes of El on the Saint Andrew’s cross downstairs make the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. There is a difference between playing with her and tying her to the bed so I can pull the most intense orgasms from her and binding her to the cross to whip her.

To each their own, I say.

It does make me laugh that here in Scotland where their flag is the Saint Andrew’s cross, these Scottish people have taken their love of their country to a new level.

My arm is now throbbing, and if I had clean hands and the right first-aid supplies, I would have fixed it by now, but instead, I’m pacing the front room of the house waiting for the car to appear from the tree-lined entrance. Finally, I hear the crunch of tires in the gravel coming up the driveway, faster than I would like. She needs to drive more carefully, I don’t want anything happening to her. I’ve not been getting my body beaten by Cherie to work off my frustration of having to stay away from Elouise for twelve months only to have her taken from me before we even start. I think I’m going to need an Academy Award at the end of this for the performance of a lifetime. I’ve been fooling everyone including myself that I’m not falling for Elouise.

The car comes to a halt in front of me, and El jumps out of the car, racing around to where I’m standing.

“And that’s why I got you a driver.” My frustration of waiting for her bubbles over at the way she came to a screeching stop.

“Rem, what the hell did you do to your arm?” Her hands are on me, and she’s looking at me like I’m dying when it’s just a flesh wound, the blood making it look worse than it is. “Wait, what did you just say about my driving?” It’s like her hearing just caught up with her brain reacting to what she was seeing.

“Nothing,” I grunt at her, not wanting to get into an argument right now.

“Hmmm.” She rolls her eyes at me. “Now start talking, what did you do?”

“I’m fine, just a little cut that I need you to clean up and dress if you have anything we can use. I couldn’t do it because my hands are dirty, and I can’t find anything to sterilize them from God knows what old germs I have touched today in this building.”

I might not be telling the truth about how big the cut is with the way my arm is aching now. Either I sliced it deeper than I thought or there is a piece of wood from the jagged door still in the cut. Whichever it is, I’ll just get El to fix it and we can get on with the day. There is no way I’m spending time in the hospital waiting for hours for them to look at me like some pathetic wimp who needs one single stitch or just one of those bandages that are shaped like a butterfly.

“Let’s get inside and see what I can find in my little first-aid kit in my suitcase.” She places her arm around my waist. “Do you need help, are you feeling dizzy or anything?”

“I’m not useless. It’s just a scratch. Walk,” I bark, pointing in the direction of the door. I know I’m being a bit sterner than I need to be, but I don’t want to be treated like one of her kids.

Glaring at me, she turns and heads inside by herself, without another word to me. As we both enter the foyer, she just points to the first chair inside the sitting room and looks at me. “Sit.” And with that, she takes the stairs two at a time.

“It’s just a fucking scratch,” I yell up the stairs but still find my feet are moving toward the sitting room, and my ass is planted on the seat by the time she comes into the room again. Just like she told me to.

“Then why are you acting like such a growly bear, if it’s nothing?” Unzipping the little black square bag, she flips it open and lays it in my lap, positioning herself on my left side next to my hurt arm.

“Damn, woman, should I be worried about why you have a fully stocked hospital-grade first-aid kit with you? Are you that clumsy you constantly need all this shit?”

“I ought to punch you right now for that insult, but I don’t want to hurt you anywhere else. And who is the clumsy one here, hmm? For your information, it was packed for Blaise before I knew he wouldn’t be here. Now shut up while I fix this.” She starts to unwrap my shirt off my bicep, and the funny thing is that even though she is looking at my arm, her eyes keep going to the side to look at my bare chest. I’d actually forgotten that I was without a shirt because I was preoccupied with her. The way she frustrates me and makes my blood run hot at the same time.

“Doubt a punch from you would hurt me.” But it wasn’t the punch I should’ve been worried about. “Fuckkk, watch it.” I grit my teeth as she rips off the shirt without an inch of care.

“Suck it up, tough guy,” she snaps back at me while she is looks at the wound and rips open the little sterile wipe sachet. I have to clench my fist as she continues to wipe it with the alcohol wipe because it stings like a bastard.

“I beg to differ that it’s a small scratch, Rem.” I’m sure that is her teacher voice that she is scolding me with.

The look on her face tells me she isn’t happy with me, and the rough way she is tending to my arm is showing me the same thing.

“You still haven’t told me how you did it.” The fresh and not-so-gentle wiping of the cut has it now bleeding again. “And I’d really be happier if we went to the hospital to check if you need stitches. Pass me that gauze.” She points to a packet in her Mary Poppins first-aid bag.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, and not a chance. No hospital. Just patch it up,” I growl as she presses down on the gauze to stop the blood again and places some adhesive tape over the top of it.

“When was your last tetanus shot?” she snaps at me.

“Two years ago. I’ll be fine.” That’s one thing I’m good at, remembering details.

“Fine.” She steps back from my arm. “You’re a stubborn ass, aren’t you.” Collecting the kit off my lap and placing it on a table nearby, she picks up my shirt off the ground and throws it at my chest as I stand.

“If it’s taken you this long to work that out, I’d call that a slow learner.” I’m finally feeling a little less off kilter now that the cut is sorted and El is back by my side. I hated suggesting she head into the village alone, but I can’t keep her attached to my side twenty-four seven while we are here. I have work to do, and she would kill me if I even tried it.

“Don’t even try to joke about this. Why are you trying to be the big tough guy? What if you get an infection? Or blood poisoning? Hmmm?” She’s got her hands on her hips as she is still mad at me and trying to chastise me for not getting it looked at.

“You know how cute you look when you do that?” I take a step toward her, but she is already stepping backwards to get away from me.

“No, no, no. You don’t get to say that.” And I can see I’m already breaking the anger in her, and there is that spark in her eyes that she gets when we are dipping our toes into the murky water of what is between us.

“Why not, I’m just stating the truth.” I take a bigger step this time.

“Because we have a rule. No flirting, and you’ve already broken it today. Twice!” Trying to appear strong, I can tell she weakens the moment she makes the mistake of reaching forward and poking her finger into my chest to make her point.

“Third time’s the charm, they say.” My forearm comes down on the top of hers, because I don’t want to place my dirty hands on her. It causes her hand to be flattened onto my abs and pulls her toward me. As she falls against my body, I whisper in her ear, “Were you remembering what my skin feels like while you were eye-fucking me a moment ago?”

The way her breath hitches is the best noise I’ve heard all day. But I’m not stopping at that. “Because I remember every inch of yours, the seductive feel, the tantalizing smell, and the taste I can’t ever forget on my tongue.” Her breathing is loud and rapid. But I know I have to pull back and leave her in that state of breathlessness, just thinking about what she is missing out on. Because there is no way that I’m letting her even find space in that beautiful brain of hers to think about another man when she is still fantasizing about me.

I slide my lips to her cheek and kiss her softly. “Thanks for being my nurse.” Then I release her hand and step away from her.

Oh yes, she looks just how I like to see her. Flushed and in the place where she can’t think rationally. It will only last a few moments, but I’ll take every little bit I can get.

Time to give her a bit of her own medicine.

“Now, you sit and don’t move.” I manage to guide her into the nearby chair without actually touching her with my filthy hands. “I’m just going to wash my hands and grab a clean shirt.”

Her mouth opens but nothing comes out. She’s forgotten she was angry at me, so my job is done.

Knowing I don’t have long and that she will be moving from that seat within minutes, I race into my room and drag my toiletries out of my bag, finding my soap and not just washing but scrubbing my hands within an inch of their lives to remove every germ that’s on there. I don’t want to touch Elouise unless I’m clean, and the way things are going, it’ll be a miracle if I can manage to keep my hands to myself while we’re here.

Pulling another long-sleeve shirt from my bag as I’m racing back out of the room, I can hear her talking to herself downstairs.

Slowing at the top of the stairs before she can hear or see me, I can’t quite hear what she is mumbling. One thing I learned very early on when I went into security is how to walk so quietly that no one knows you’re there. Stealthily moving down a few steps, her words become clearer.

“It’s all Tori’s fault. Should’ve stayed home. Four days with that dirty-talking, muscly sex on a stick without crumbling. Stick to the stupid rules. Fuck, why do I always have to be the good girl? Why can’t I be the slutty nanny who jumps into bed with the boss at her first opportunity? It’d be easier if I wasn’t always trying to do the right thing for everyone else but me. No one knows how bad I want him. Can’t tell Tori, no one to talk to, no one to tell me I’m crazy and to stay away from him. It’s not right. Blaise needs him, he needs his friends and his job. Flynn and Nic would kill him. Tori caught in the middle, and I’d be left on the outside on my own because I made everyone choose. And deep down, I know no one would choose me.” Her voice cracks a little, and my heart breaks for the position I have put her in and how little she thinks of herself because of me.

I just want to walk in there and take her into my arms and tell her that I will choose her every damn time.

Fuck, doesn’t she understand I’ve already chosen her?

Since that first night, I haven’t slept with another woman. No one has even come close. The guys don’t know that and neither does Elouise, but I haven’t been able to shake that ache she left me with that night in Rome.

She’s right, I am an asshole! For making her feel like that. I need to fix this.

Stomping down the stairs with footsteps loud enough to wake the dead so she knows I’m coming, I walk into the room, and she’s looking out the window with her back to me. I can tell she’s wiping a few stray tears that have escaped as she was beating herself up about our insane connection that is getting stronger the longer we’re together. Not rushing her, I stay where I am and just change the subject to random conversation.

“I haven’t had time to really walk all the property, but I think the gardens look like they are more tastefully done than the décor in here.” Her hand drops back down to her side which is a good sign. “I mean, it doesn’t look like someone threw a bucket of seeds in the wind and let anything grow where it fell, like the randomness they have done with the amount of color in this castle.” I watch her shoulders bounce a little, and by the tiny laugh that comes from her, I know we are in a safe territory… for now.

“You really hate the decorating here, don’t you?” Turning and facing me, I can see she is smiling, and that is what I was aiming for.

“There is nothing good about it. Come on, you have to agree. I mean, the only bit of class and style in decoration is the room downstairs, and that’s just weird.” Shit, I had forgotten the reason I even messaged her to come back. If anything is going to take her mind off us, then it will be this.

“What room?” Her confusion is apparent as she starts to walk back across the room toward me. “Is that why you messaged me, or was that a bullshit message because you didn’t want to panic me?”

“Me, worry about you? Not a chance.” I laugh when she tilts her head to the side like I’m speaking another language.

“So, what’s with this room that is so different?”

“Yeah, different is probably a good word to use. Come with me and I’ll show you.” I hold out my hand to take hers as if I am showing her the way, but the truth is that I just want to center both of us. And it’s the only thing I can think of without overstepping the line I should never have crossed today.

It’s a funny thing I have with El, where silence is okay between us. There’s no need to fill the air around us with mindless chatter as we make our way through the castle and down into the dungeon. Her hand in mine starts to squeeze a little tighter as we descend into the darkness, so I give her a little squeeze back, letting her know that she is safe with me.

Stopping just before the open door, I shine the flashlight at the ceiling, so we have dim light to be able to see each other.

“You know that movie where he stands outside the locked door and says, ‘I want to show you my playroom’ ? Well, it’s not mine, but check out this playroom.” I laugh at the surprise on her face.

“Holy shit, Rem, are you serious? I know they had sex rooms back hundreds of years ago too, but I can’t believe it’s still here after all this time.” And I don’t know why but part of me loves the naivety of Elouise sometimes and the intrigue at her hidden knowledge of random things. She is a reader, and I’m sure she takes in every word she devours on the page.

“Yes, but this is not from back then. Turns out this castle was owned by a couple of old kinky lovers. Just don’t touch the door, it bites, so I learnt earlier.” I look to where the scratch on my arm is, and it registers with her what I mean.

“Can I say I’m glad it was just the door that bit you in the room?” Her little giggle has me laughing too.

“You and me both. Shall we?” Walking through the door, I pull her behind me.

There is silence as I watch her eyes open wide and slowly move around the room, taking in the photos as well.

“Oh… my… God.” Her free hand comes up and covers her mouth. Then it drops a little as she points at the photo of the woman naked and tied up in ropes, but with an expression of pure joy at the man I assume is her husband cupping her face in his hand while kissing the top of her head. I still see what I saw the first time I looked at it. The angle of the shot is artistic and captures exactly what the photographer was aiming for, which was probably her husband who staged the shot.

It’s the look of pure and raw love between two people.

“She doesn’t look like it hurts,” El whispers.

“No, she looks like she is in what I imagine is her perfect position. A safe place of his love.”

We both stand for a few moments, staring at the picture. Until Elouise’s words break the silence.

“Is that why you think it’s the best room in the house…? Do you like all this?” Even in the dim light, I can see the fear in her eyes.

Stepping closer to her, I release her hand and tilt her chin up toward me so I have her full attention. “No, beautiful, but all I wish for is that one day…” I stop to take a deep breath. “I will be your safe place to feel that loved.”

“I think I have the same wish,” she says in the softest and sweetest whisper that falls from her lips.

I just want to take her in my arms and kiss her until she understands how much I want that now, but I can’t.

It fucking sucks, but I have already stepped over the line too many times today, so being the gentleman she needs me to be, I step back and take her hand again.

“We need to get out of here so I can breathe,” I grumble as I start pulling her by the hand toward the stairs to the kitchen.

“That makes two of us,” she agrees with me.

Then her whisper echoes off the thick rock walls of the dungeon. “Ten months and counting. Who are we kidding!”

I give it ten days if she’s lucky.