Ethan's Song (3 page)

"No!" Her squeal wasn’t meant to come out so squeaky and loud. "And I’m not going to, Mr. Ayers."
"After leading me on the way you did?" He watched as her blue eyes widened, her mouth trying to form words, her cheeks flaming with the renewed blush.
"Leading you on?" She was finally able to squeak out. "I wasn’t leading you anywhere, Mr. Ayers. It was you who took control." Her attempts to get away from him were getting her nowhere.
Jená." He whispered her name as his arm came around her. He laid her back and joined her, despite her struggle to get up.
"I really didn’t mean to give you the impression you got." Her voice had fear surrounding each word. "Honestly, I didn’t."
He sat up, keeping his dark brown eyes on her, his hand resting on her stomach ever so lightly. "Just how much experience do you have teasing men, Jenà?" He spoke quietly, though there was an anger beneath his composure, feelings he was allowing her to see only a glimpse of.
With difficulty, then with his helping hand, she sat, then stood. "I’m sorry, Mr. Ayers. I can’t claim any experience with men, in that way." She turned from him, hiding the tears that had come to her eyes. How she wished she could run from him, but where could she go? This was his ship, and they were out in the middle of nowhere.
When his large, warm hands touched her arms, she stiffened as she wiped at her wet cheeks. "I’m sorry, Jenà." His whispered words were sincere. "I had no idea." He turned her to him, bringing comfort with his arms this time. "The way you kissed me... There’s usually a lot of experience coming from that kind of..."
She could hear his heart beating, slower now, as she again rested her face against his chest. "I’ve never been kissed in that way. I’m sorry I responded to you in such a way."
His chuckle deepened her blush, he could feel the heat through his shirt. "Let’s not say that. I certainly am not sorry." His moving hands on her back were creating feelings in her that only deepened her confusion. "You’ve done something to me, Jenà. I can’t put my finger on it, but I like how it feels." His voice deepened as he spoke.
Leaning back from him, she looked into his eyes. They were a softer brown, gentle, no sign of the hunger she had seen before. The smallest smile touched the lips she watched, longed for. "I made you step out of your circle of friends?" She tried to help him put a name to how he felt, not knowing what it could be.
He closed the eyes she wanted to see. "I think you had better run along to your room, Jenà." He spoke to her as if she were a child. "With you standing here, I’m so tempted to relieve you of your innocence." His voice had picked up some of the earlier, husky sound. His eyes remained closed.
"Mr. Ayers?" She remained in his arms, as neither seemed to want to move. When he finally looked at her, she wanted to melt against him. "How can I say thank you for understanding?" She laid her head on his chest again, listening to the beat that had picked up in rhythm again. "I’m so confused," she confessed to him. "Part of me wants to stay with you, but I’m not sure how I would feel..."
He brought her chin up, looking into the blue eyes that all but begged him to ask her to stay. "You are a she-devil, sent to torture me." He bent his head to claim her lips once more, and again found her more than willing to return pleasure for pleasure. "Before we return home," his eyes made the promise with his words, making her stiffen again, "I will have you, sweet innocent child. But not tonight. It isn’t for tonight." With a sharp slap on her backside, he sent her off toward her room.
She found she couldn’t answer him, wanting to tell him he would be disappointed, that she wouldn’t allow that, but the words wouldn’t come out. All the way to her room, she vowed to stay away from him the remainder of the cruise. She prayed for a way to accomplish that impossible task.

WESTLEY WAS waiting in the staff lounge on the third floor for her. Seeing the look on her face, he didn’t have to ask, but he did anyway. "What’s gotten into you? You look like the cat who swallowed the bird, then found the tomcat besides."

"Nothing." Her answer was dreamily spoken as her cheeks grew warm at his implication. "What happened to you tonight out on deck?" She had turned on him, but really didn’t want an answer. Everything had worked out without him. If he had shown up outside, he would have tried to do just what Ethan had done. With the romantic setting, maybe she wouldn’t have been able to resist him any better, but he would not have understood her, at least not as Ethan had. Then again, if he had been the one to kiss her, she wouldn’t have felt what she had with Ethan. Westley just didn’t have what she needed, it seemed.

"Before I got halfway outside, Mr. Ayers came by. I guess after he sent me down here, he came out and gave you what for?" He leaned on the wall next to her door.

"You mean you didn’t get caught out there?" His words said he didn’t believe that. "Were you able to slip by him?" She couldn’t have gotten past that man. He roamed his ship inch by inch.

"I didn’t say that, either, Wes. He very much caught me." She couldn’t believe she was telling him this. "It didn’t seem to bother him that I was out getting a break from the stuffy third floor."

His hands were on her arms then. "I warned you, Jenà. Didn’t I? He’s on the make for you, isn’t he?" He watched as she shook her head slightly, the shortened hair hardly moving. Touching her dark hair, he spoke in a lower tone. "I think I like your hair this way, too." Leaning toward her, he was going to kiss her.

She backed away, reaching for the doorknob. "Wes, go away." The words came with a sigh that said she wasn’t interested in what he wanted of her. "I’m very tired." She found her hand covered, his hold keeping her from turning the handle that would allow her to get away from him. "Westley!" Her tone was sharp, but he wasn’t effected by it.

"I believe the lady would like you to leave her alone, Mr. Marx." Ethan’s tone was full of aggression. Was he protecting the woman, or protecting what he now considered his possession?

"I can handle Westley, Mr. Ayers. Thank you." Her eyes softened when they reached his, but she had no knowledge of it. What she felt inside was enough to make her want to be swallowed up by the floor.

Westley removed his hand from hers, stepping back. "Jenà isn’t something we should fight over, Mr. Ayers." His words sounded like a threat. "I’ll go to my room, and she to hers."

Jenà looked from Ethan to the man who had just spoken, with the slightest bit of annoyance in her voice as well. "Is that a command, Westley?" She turned, leaning against the wall rather than using the time wisely for doing a disappearing act. She watched as Westley started to leave, and Ethan stepped toward her, placing his hand on the wall beside her head.

"You are such a tease, Jenà." He bent, kissing her once more, feeling her move toward him, her arms going around him.

No matter what she tried to think of, she couldn’t stop responding to him. Since he had kissed her outside in the romantic setting, she had found him so irresistible. The newfound senses pushed the warning bells from her hearing.

"Jenà." He spoke when he had hesitatingly backed from her. "Go in your room and get some sleep, before..."

"I can’t, Ethan." Her whispered words caused him to take a deep breath, filling his lungs. "I... don’t want to." Never had she lost control of herself before. But never had she met anyone like Ethan Ayers.

He reached past her, turning the knob on her door, then he was pushing her inside. "Go." His voice was commanding.

She knew if she didn’t, she would find herself in his bed, but at that moment she knew that’s what she wanted. Why was he insisting that she leave him, when he knew she was so willing? Was it because she wasn’t the challenge he thought she would be? To Westley, she was a challenge. To him, she was so easy.

"Good night, Jenà." He left her to close the door, but his footsteps were going in the same direction Westley had gone. Was he making sure that his possession was secure? Was he going to warn the other man to keep his distance? Or was he just checking on his precious boat, as he probably did every night?

Don’t kid yourself, Jenà, she told herself smartly. The man can have any woman he wants, and now you are just one of them. Quietly she undressed, moving about in the darkness, wishing he was there to touch her. "Jenà Wisdom!" She spoke aloud at her thoughts.

The woman in the bottom bunk stirred in her sleep, and her roommate quietly went into the small bath, closing the door before she turned on the light. The sigh that came from her was shaky. Her hands went to her face as she fought the nagging part of her that wanted to return to him. This was all a new experience to her.

What was Westley thinking about her now? What had Ethan told him, if he had followed him, as it looked like he was going to do?

After a quick shower, she lay awake, tossing. Her thoughts kept at how comfortable his bed, as well as his arms, would be, how she would have found peaceful sleep in them. Her lips all but ached because of his kisses. The ache she felt in them was for more.

<<<< >>>> AT FOUR, Jenni was up, getting ready to begin her shift. As quiet as she was, Jenà fought hard to keep from telling her to hurry and leave the room. She’d not had a minute’s rest through the long night. In reality it had only been two and a half hours that she’d been trying to sleep, but it felt like many more hours.

First her fight was to keep from going to him. How she could stand being so close, yet so far away was beyond her knowing. Her body screamed for him, something she didn’t know how she could cope with. Then she began thinking of his denial, though she certainly had been willing. The only excuse she could find was that she possessed nothing he wanted. She was just one of his servants, and as such, why did he turn down what he so obviously wanted? What should it matter that he was taking advantage of one of his employees? Then thoughts came to her of the way she had acted. How embarrassed she was now. She couldn’t face the man again. He was able to control himself, while she... But how could she avoid him?

Jenni finally left, closing the door very softly, never knowing that Jenà had been awake, nor could she have been sure the woman was there.

After another hour, she finally fell into a fitful sleep. Her dreams were of him, how he would look at her with scorn. Then his laughing at her for the lack of control of herself, and his complete composure. She was a puppet and he held the strings above her, commanding her to dance. She danced and danced, always to his tune, always at the end of his strings. Just before she woke, she saw Westley at the back of the theater, pointing, laughing and shouting,
I told you, but you wouldn’t listen
.

It was still quite early, but she couldn’t sleep any longer. Putting her uniform on, she walked out in the hall. She saw several people in the lobby and before she could get out of their sight, they called after her to come sing for them. Shaking her head, she continued walking until she was upstairs going through the diningroom to the kitchen for a needed cup of strong, black coffee.

Sitting at the table closest to the kitchen door, she sipped at the steaming bitter cup, looking down at the plate of food Flapjack had made her take with her. Picking up her fork, she moved the scrambled eggs from one side of the expensive china plate to the other.

"That fork is not a straw, and your fingers couldn’t suck up the nutrition if it was." Westley had joined her, pulling a chair out next to her. "From the look on your face, you haven’t had much sleep, if any at all."

"Go away." Her tone was sour.
"I knew you’d spent hours tossing when you wouldn’t bring your guitar to the lounge. It isn’t like you not to want to sing to an audience." It sounded as if he knew her, his tone was full of the sympathy he felt for her. Or was it disdain? She was too tired to read his mood.
"I don’t want company, Westley." Picking up her cup and plate, she went into the kitchen, relieved to have entered alone. When she dumped the food into the disposal, she felt the look from Flapjack before she looked up to receive it. "I told you I wasn’t hungry. Coffee, that was all I wanted." Refilling her cup, she walked out again.
"Come sit down with me, Jenà. You need someone to talk to." Westley called as she walked past him.
"Damn." She muttered, seeing Ethan come through the door she was just a few feet from walking out of. A determination to walk right past him filled every fiber she had.
"Good morning, Jenà." His smooth voice almost stopped her, but the hesitation was barely noticeable. He turned, following her to the stairs, repeating his silky greeting. More silence. "Are you one of those grouches in the morning who can’t speak a civil word before having at least one cup of coffee?"
"I’ve already finished the first, Mr. Ayers." On the second floor now, she was stopped by his hand on her hip as he stood beside her. "Mr. Ayers?" She asked in an unpleasant tone, looking at him with more determination to get past him.
"Last night it was Ethan." He grinned at the blush she had been able to control until he brought up the night before. "I do like how you speak my name. I haven’t felt such strong emotions before last night." He was teasing her and her cheeks deepened in color as well as in warmth.
"If you don’t mind, Mr. Ayers, I’d like to go back to my room for a bit. I’m to be on duty at two." She started to step forward, but found the man in front of her. "Excuse me."
"Do I detect a sleepless night?" Was it a question, or taunting? "Come, have breakfast with me. I do detest eating alone." Though he attempted to move her, she remained in the same spot. "If I promise to behave myself?"
"Just like Westley? I should say not, Mr. Ayers. You have guests to dine with." She let her impatience come out with her nasty mood. "I’m not a bit hungry, thanks just the same. If you’ll let me pass, I should be able to get in a few hours rest before my shift begins."
Raising her chin, he found she wouldn’t look into his eyes. Lowering his head, he kissed her lightly, feeling her stubbornness at responding. Had he chosen, he could have changed that to willingness, he knew just as she did. "Good morning, Jenà," he repeated in a whisper. After more silence, he decided to try her. "I don’t want you to be part of my staff any longer. I’d prefer having you as my guest. I’ll have your suite ready within the hour and your things brought up."
Her eyes came up to look into his immediately, anger very apparent. "You may do as you wish on and with your ship, Mr. Ayers. I cannot stop you from that. But," her voice was strong with a warning, "you will leave my things right where they are. You don’t own them. Nor do you own me. You’ll not move me around like a piece in a chess game."
His expression didn’t show the relief he felt. He had to know if she were playing for him because of his money, or if she was genuinely attracted to him as a man. Had she jumped at being moved, he might have been tempted to throw her off the port side. "We’ll see about that, Jenà." He whispered just before he kissed her again, leaving her standing alone before he got the best of her again.
"O-o-o! These men!" She didn’t care that he heard, nor did his chuckle set well with her. Down the next flight of stairs she stormed into her room, slamming the door. How she wished for a way off the ship. Only three days into the three week cruise and already she felt an urgency to go home. Sitting in her apartment, alone, for three weeks was much preferable to being on his ship.
Through the evening meal, Jenà blushed each time her eyes found him watching her. He was neglecting the guests at his table, though she was the only one who seemed to take notice of that.
Later, when everyone had left the dining area, Jenà began cleaning off the tables. Ethan had remained, making her feel self-conscious under his watchful eye. She put the dishes in the deep tray she wheeled around the room from table to table.
Taking her hands from the cart she pushed, he turned her, trying to make her look at him. "Would you consider having coffee with me in my sitting room?"
With everything she possessed, she kept her answer quiet. "Thank you, Mr. Ayers, but no, I wouldn’t. I have a lot to do before eleven. If you will excuse me." She was surprised at how easy it was to turn back to the things behind her, her worry of his stopping that action confused her all the more. It was what she expected from him, but it was a disappointment.
Why was he teasing her? she was wondering as she filled the tray with the china and silverware, placing the expensive glassware on the shelf below. Why couldn’t he leave her alone? As she wiped the table with the rag, she made up her mind to tell him to do just that.
Turning as she straightened, Jenà found herself quite alone in the large room, among the dozen tables and chairs, wondering if it had been her imagination that Ethan had been there. Was he beginning to drive her insane? Not only in her dreams, when she could sleep, but also sneaking into her thoughts so clear he seemed real, when she was fully awake.
With a shrug of her shoulders and a shake of her head, she continued the job at hand. There was too much to do for her to stand around wondering where her boss was and what he was up to.
Finished for the evening, her plans were to go straight to bed. She couldn’t remember being so exhausted before. Another day had passed without exercising her voice, she was thinking as she walked down the two flights. There in front of her door, she saw Westley. With a sigh she forced her feet to continue toward her destination.
"No fresh air tonight, Jenà?" The look he held in his eyes was different, something she didn’t quite understand. "I guess he failed to tell you that this wasn’t your room any longer?"
In a very tired voice she sighed heavily with her words. "What are you talking about, Wes?" At her door she paused to hear what he had to say. She was in no mood for his games. Nor Mr. Ayers’. Her tapping foot told of her impatience.
"He had your things moved from your room this evening." His thumb jumped up and down as he tried to tell her where. Silence, except for her tapping foot, was all he was given. "Upstairs, Jenà. That’s where he wants you. I did warn you about him." The grin said he was satisfied with her expression.
"Someone needs to warn him, then. I’ve no intention of moving anywhere." Opening the door, she went in and closed it so she wouldn’t have to see him, but softly so as not to disturb Jenni.
Because she didn’t believe him, she checked the drawers for her things, finding them empty, as was her closet, except for the uniforms belonging to herself and Jenni. She was too tired to worry much about it tonight. After a shower she would crawl into bed and forget Mr. Ethan Ayers’ demands.
Sleep had overcome her so quickly, when she awoke she had to shake the cobwebs out of her head to know where she was. Hardly remembering crawling into her bunk, she felt very self-conscious at being naked under her covers. At home it wouldn’t have bothered her, but here...
A knock at her door had her pulling the covers up to her neck as she wiggled down toward the foot. The door came open, letting the hall light flow into the room. Sherri, one of the morning kitchen help, stood blocking out some of the light, holding a tray.
"Miss Wisdom?" Her voice was patient. "Your tray is here."
"This isn’t funny." Jenà barked at her. "Did Westley put you up to this?"
"No." She brought the breakfast tray in, setting it on the dressing table, its odor drifting up to the woman still in bed. "My orders are from Flapjack. You are to have coffee and breakfast in your room. I couldn’t find you there, so I asked around."
"This is my room." She had turned onto her side to see the woman better. "But you can take that tray back to the kitchen, and tell Flapjack, as well as anyone else who might be interested, that I don’t need special privileges."
Leaving the tray, Sherri closed the door behind her. Jenà sighed, wondering how long before Mr. Ayers would be in there. Checking her watch, she found it to be ten-thirty, time for her to be up anyway.
The under things she had washed out the night before were still hanging in the bathroom, dry now. She had prepared so she wouldn’t have to confront him for her things. She was determined to hold out, no matter how long he persisted. Dressed in her uniform, she carried the untouched tray back to the kitchen herself. Quite loudly she banged it on the cabinet, getting everyone’s attention.
"Was there something wrong with the food, Miss Wisdom?" Flapjack’s concern, and a little appreciated.
"There’s nothing wrong with your food, Flapjack. I’m Jenà, in case you’ve lost your memory. Speaking of losing things, I seem to have lost my clothes. I get off at eleven tonight, and I wish whoever moved them would put them right back." Her voice was filled with anger, not directed at anyone in particular.
"I missed you last night." Ethan’s voice growled when he caught her in his arms in the dining room.
"I’ll bet you did." The anger was still there, she didn’t try to hide it. "What gives you the right to expression showed genuine hurt that his efforts weren’t manipulate other people? You’ve even ordered them to address me as Miss Wisdom. You’ve taken my clothes from my room. I won’t stand for this."
"Jenà..." He was trying to calm her.
"
You
may call me Miss Wisdom, Mr. Ayers." Her struggles were being absorbed by his strong arms.
"Jenà, please." He held her tightly. "The more you try to get away, the more I want you." His quiet but serious words stopped every movement in her. "That’s better." His movements were toward the door, where he put one arm around her, walking to the stairs. "Now, about your things..."
"Yes, Mr. Ayers." She interrupted. "About my things..." How she wished she could put him in his place, but she had a feeling whatever she said or did, he would remain the victor. "I wish them to be back in my room, downstairs, before eleven tonight. I won’t be moved until I am ready. You’re going to find that to be a very, very long time from now." She allowed him to lead her where he would, for the time being.
Passing his suite, he went to the next door down the hall. "This is yours, Jenà, if you’ll have it." His hand was on the knob, but didn’t open it because she spoke quite angrily.
"No, Mr. Ayers. I’m not interested. I was hired as one of your servants, but that doesn’t give you exclusive rights on my body." She looked away from him, feeling her anger was being diminished by the brown eyes that looked down at her.
"Alright." He spoke with patience, removing his hand from the handle. "I won’t force you to do what you don’t think you want." His arm around her tightened, pulling her against him. "But you do want me, Jenà, as much as I want you."
Her hands pushed against his arms, wanting to keep him from kissing her. Lightly he brushed her lips, causing much friction in the air just around them. "Please don’t, Ethan." When her eyes met his, he grinned down at her.
"I’ll have your things returned to your cabin." He gave in to her, only because he knew he would win another time. No sense forcing her. He’d wait until she was ready. With the way he knew he affected her, the time would be quite soon, he would bet everything he had on that.
Biting her lower lip, she watched his eyes. Neither moved from where they felt comfortable, despite another couple walking by them in the hall. Her eyes moved down to the lips she found so fascinating. "Aren’t you afraid what your friends might say about you and one of the staff?"
No verbal answer came as he lowered his head to do what she all but verbally begged for. Before he found himself carrying the woman inside, he raised his head from hers. Her sigh was drawn out by several hesitating stops.
Refusing to look up at him, which would give him satisfaction, she turned to go. It was so hard to leave the arms that had held her tightly. Why was he letting her go again? The question seemed to come to her every time she walked away from him. Again, she was no challenge to him. He was her challenge, so why was she so eager to leave him? Were they both testing the other?
Letting her fingers pick the tunes, she quietly sang the songs from her past that were too dear to share with anyone else. Tears fell down her cheeks, though they were not sad songs, nor did she feel like crying because of Mr. Ethan Ayers.