A Disappointing Introduction
“It's my fault, not Ezra's, Madame—"
"I am aware of that, Esther," Magdalena said cooly, arching an eyebrow at me. I resisted the urge to sink lower into the heat of my bath under the woman's warning stare. "It is also Mr. MacKenna’s blame. And apparently myself, since I didn't take your concern over an intruder as seriously as I clearly should have."
"You said no one could come in who wasn't meant—"
"He is not a member," Magdalena said quickly, stomping on my tiny hint of hope.
Ezra had tried to make a quick escape out of the window, but Amon had been faster, and apparently, very capable of seeing the invisible man. I'd made weak protests, but Magdalena had taken the situation firmly in hand, sending Booker and the two men down to her office and pointing me directly toward the bath.
"He said he was rejected because of the price," I said, a little sullenly. I ducked my head, but I caught the flat purse of Magdalena's lips in the reflection of the milky water.
"That may be."
"You're going to throw me out," I whispered, closing my eyes.
Magdalena huffed. "I most certainly am not. Esther, look at me."
I did, eyes wide at her instant refusal, but I didn't find forgiveness in her gaze. She was as stern as ever, even frowning a little deeper than before.
"Mr. MacKenna was not allowed on our premises, it's as simple as that. Now he and I are to blame for his presence here. You are to blame for…encouraging him, I suppose. And Amon is to blame for arriving early and putting us in this rather precarious position."
I winced at the reminder of Amon's thunderous expression. Gone was the seductive and tender man I'd dreamt of. He had been shocked, offended, insulted…angry.
"I don't strictly object to you having sex with this man, but I do object to you not taking your clients into consideration," Magdalena said firmly.
I opened my mouth to point out that I hadn't known Amon was coming, but I shut it again quickly. I had told Auguste I wanted Booker, and I'd obviously done it before acting on that interest. Ezra had seduced me, but I'd let him. Was I really so helpless to my own whims and desires?
"I'll apologize," I whispered.
Magdalena snorted and rolled her eyes. "Oh, you absolutely will. And not just to Amon."
I swallowed hard, my chest suddenly pinched and uncomfortable as I wondered if Auguste or Dr. Underwood would be as disappointed with me as Amon obviously was. Auguste had been comfortable with the idea of Booker—interested in watching, I remembered with a thrill—but I had an inkling that Ezra might be the sort of man who stirred up friction with the others.
And why did that make me want to smile?
Ezra reminded me a little of myself. Except with a wonderful cock and a wicked tongue.
"Try not to wear that self-satisfied expression when you apologize," Magdalena said drily.
I swallowed down my giggles and made myself sober, sinking beneath the warm water once more and then scrubbing myself clean quickly.
"You may lose him," Magdalena said softly, and I looked up at her, wiping the water from my eyes.
"Amon? Or Ezra?" I asked, frowning at the thought of not getting to keep the company of either man. I liked Ezra a little better at the moment, but I couldn't really blame Amon for being upset—just a bit for his poor timing.
Magdalena frowned, and her gaze went distant on the tiles behind me. "I'm not sure," she said slowly, brow furrowing. I waited for more, but she only shook herself and glanced down at me again. "Finish up, dress, and come down to my office. We'll speak with them there. Booker will escort you."
I worried my lip between my teeth as Magdalena left me in the deep tub alone. I could still feel the stretch and sting Ezra had left in me, the warm throb of recent pleasure, and more than anything, I wanted him here in the water with me. Prior to Rooksgrave, I'd never had much occasion for enjoying the company of my bed partners after the act. My night with Dr. Underwood, and those with Auguste, had already made a difference.
Now it wasn't just sex I was always craving, but affection.
"Booker?" I called softly.
I leaned on the ledge of the tub, smiling as Booker opened the door and stepped inside without any apparent shyness. I rose up from the water slowly, skin goosebumping with the chill and the attention of Booker's stare following the curves of my body. I shivered, and I wasn't sure if the cause was my lovely, massive golem or the temperature.
Booker turned away from me, moving to the brick wall where the soft towels waited on hooks. The brick wall was the same that surrounded the fireplace in my room, and it kept my towels warm. I sighed as I stepped out onto the woven rug, curling my toes as Booker wrapped the fabric around my shoulders. Firm hands rubbed through, caressing my skin, and I watched his smooth expression as he studiously went about the work of drying me off.
His knee touched the floor with a dulled thunk, and I slid my arms up as he dragged the towel down, focusing on my hips and legs. I was aroused, all but swooning into his touch, but also soothed. As far as I could tell, Booker wasn't being intentionally erotic, just thorough. Touch was my weakness, and Booker's broad shoulders and dense muscles didn't hurt either.
His hands stroked down to my ankles, taking the towel with them, and I rested a hand on his shoulder to balance as he lifted a foot, diligently wiping between each toe. My skin was flushed and warm, my breath a little deeper than before, but I was calm too.
"Thank you," I said, resisting the urge to press closer and help myself to Booker's large form.
Booker stood, leaving the towel rumpled on the floor. He had a slight curl on his full mouth, and it was that smile I was focused on and not his fingers. They swiped lightly over my sex as he rose to his full height, and my breath caught at the cool, smooth touch. It was solid, firm, and my clit pulsed in response, my eyes growing wide.
"Dress," he rumbled, stepping back.
I gaped at his back as he left the bathroom.
* * *
Booker letme hold his hand as he escorted me down to Magdalena's office. I knew the moment I stepped inside where Ezra was seated, because it was precisely where Amon fixed an angry, amber glinted stare at the ledge of the window. His wings and tail seemed to be hidden, but I thought I caught a hint of the feline fur under his skin when it hit the light. There was a rustle of fabric by the window, Ezra rising, but Magdalena clucked, and I heard Ezra huff.
"Amon," I said, waiting for the sphinx's eyes to flick to me, some of the temper fading in their depths. "I'm sorry for the shock you must've felt. I wasn't expecting you, and I…"
"I don't blame you, little star," Amon said, but there was a press to his full mouth that I knew meant I wasn't fully forgiven.
"You should," I said and raised a hand toward the empty space by the window where Ezra was stirring again. "I made a choice, and I knew it was one that would lead to people being disappointed in me. I… Ezra…"
"Don't mind my feelings, puisín," Ezra muttered.