Ethan's Song (5 page)

"But..." She started to speak, but she was hushed by the look he gave her.
"No buts. Never, never, never do you come upstairs wearing anything but your uniform, unless Mr. Ayers gives a different order, which I have to hear from him." The head cook had her arm in his big hand, turning her around to make her go back downstairs.
"But Flap, all I want is a cup of coffee. I’m not on duty for nine hours." Her protests must have fallen on deaf ears, as she didn’t get an answer from him, just a smart push in the direction of the stairs.
Sitting in her room, she picked up her guitar and began playing. She hummed the tunes, knowing if she ever began singing the words, she would wake everyone on the third floor. But the urge to sing was so great. Setting the guitar down, she changed into her uniform. Two violations at once she couldn’t handle. Being up on deck would cause her to be bawled out again, she didn’t care. But if she didn’t change, Flapjack would really give her what for.
She hesitated about going to the bow, remembering the way he had held her and danced the hours away the night before. But the area was furthermost from everyone, and she felt she could sing her heart out without an audience, especially one that would yell at her for being there in the first place.
The words to the songs came from her in clarity. In the brightening sky, she could see the ocean waves coming up, each trying to go higher than the ones before; the white foam lingering for the next one to join it. They were anchored just hundreds of yards from land, though she didn’t know where. Nor did she care. The morning was becoming very beautiful, filling her with more desire to sing.
Her songs were varied. Some sad, others having a bit of humor. There were love songs. The blues were the easiest for her to sing this morning. After one such number, she lay the guitar on her lap, silently watching as the sun came up out of the water. Life in the air was busy, and she sat a while longer as she enjoyed the movement of the birds. When the sun was fully clear of the horizon, she thought she should return below before someone found her there.
Standing from the deck chair she had occupied for over two hours, she was unaware of the man behind her. When she turned, his hands took the guitar from her. "You have the most beautiful voice I’ve had the pleasure of hearing in a long time." Ethan took her hand. "Sit down, please."
"I’m sorry, Mr. Ayers." She felt her cheeks burning their brightest at the memory of the anger she had caused him, and after such a beautiful night in his arms. "I know I’m not supposed to be out here, and here I am, out where I’m not supposed to be for the second time. I was just on my way back down, before your guests begin waking."
"No, Jenà. Please sit. First, I want to apologize for last night." The sincerity in his voice was echoed on his expression.
"Your apology is excepted, only if I’m allowed the same." She sat on the chair again, watching as he pulled another beside her.
"Alright." He gave her his answer as soon as he was seated. "Now, tell me, why, with so beautiful a voice as you have, are you not known? Surely someone has heard you singing who would have grabbed you by now?" His grin teased her senses.
"Please, Mr. Ayers. I don’t want to talk..."
"What happened to Ethan? I distinctly remember hearing my name come from those delicious lips of yours. I’d like to hear it again." His smile made her blush a little deeper, which she didn’t know was possible.
"Please forgive me for last night, and the other night." She stood and walked to the railing, looking down at the water, its sparkling so bright it was hard on her eyes. "Why don’t we forget about everything that’s happened. Let me go back to where I belong."
"Where do you belong, Jenà?" His question seemed to hang in the air between them. "You certainly don’t belong in the position you’ve been hired for. "He reached over the space between them, taking one of her hands, letting his eyes take in everything about her. "That uniform doesn’t belong on you. I’d much rather you were in something delicate, like last night. You’re so beautiful dressed as you should be."
"Mr. Ayers, please don’t tease. I’ve been told once already this morning not to come up in anything else but this." She didn’t tell him the rest, as she knew he would order it.
He stood close, bringing her to him. "I’ll see to it that you wear whatever you want, as long as it isn’t that black thing." He walked around her, his eyes all over her, making her stop breathing for the time. With a hand on the small of her back, he began walking her from the bow.
She walked beside him, because that was all she could do. "I need to get my guitar before the ocean air ruins it."
Dropping her hand, he turned, walking back the few steps to pick it up for her. "I’ll carry it." He spoke as she reached for it, his eyes looking into hers before continuing to the stairs. "You haven’t slept all night again, have you?"
Silence was all she gave him. She didn’t want him to know he had been the cause, for the second time, of her sleepless night, but found she didn’t have to say it. When he began walking her down the second flight of stairs, she hesitated. "Mr. Ayers, I really am sorry about last night. I’m totally embarrassed about the way..."
In the middle of the steps, he stopped them, turning to face her. "Please, don’t apologize any more. I understand how you feel."
"But I don’t usually act so... so... Well, like I have been lately." She took two steps down and was stopped again.
He walked down to her level, setting the guitar where it was safe but no longer in his hands. "If it were your normal behavior, sweetheart, there would be no innocence about you." He claimed her lips again. The kiss was short, as he found she was still too willing. "You go to your room and change into something a little more feminine."
"Mr. Ayers." She stopped him from leaving. "I can’t do that. In fact, I’m going to try to get some sleep before I go back on duty this afternoon."
"You’ll not be going back to work, Jenà. In fact, you will be moving up to the second floor as my guest." His tone told her he wouldn’t take any argument this time. "If you’ll gather your things..."
"No!" She stomped her foot on the step, then reaching for her instrument, she bounced down the remaining stairs to the third floor. He caught up to her at the door she was about to open and disappear behind. "What is it, Mr. Ayers? Can’t ruin your reputation by sleeping with the hired help?"
He opened the door, moving both of them inside for privacy. "With whom I sleep, Jenà, has nothing to do with the reputation you seem so worried about." He had kicked the door closed, making more noise than necessary. Taking the guitar from between them, he laid it down on the bottom bunk. At least she felt safe from an attack, as he had placed the instrument in the way. "I am your employer, and what I say usually gets done."
"Yes, you are my employer." She agreed with him, backing as far away as she could. "And as such," she continued, her voice heating with anger and fear, "you can fire me. Or I can quit." She spoke with venom in her words.
His expression showed his amusement at her statement, as did his tone, which had become lighter. "In the middle of nowhere?" His long legs had him before her in one step, pinning her to the wall with his hands on either side of her shoulders. "Do you even know where you are?" She slowly shook her head, unable to take her eyes from his gaze. "Good. You’ll find it quite impossible to quit. There is nowhere to get off this ship, and I believe that was covered in the contract, if you want to get it out and look it over again."
Though he wasn’t touching her, she found it quite hard to breathe. He had such a hold over her emotions. The anger and fear she had just felt were melting, quickly. "I will remain doing what I was hired to do, Mr. Ayers." She tried covering her feelings.
Turning, he tried another way around her stubbornness. "Alright, Jenà. You are still in my employ, but you’ve been promoted." He stopped in the middle of her room, turning to look at her, speaking as the thoughts came to him. "I don’t hire live entertainment because I find it’s often too loud, and has too much baggage. But, I do enjoy good music. You are now at my beck and call, you and your guitar."
"I will be no such thing." She spoke quietly, but with much defiance, not taking her blue eyes from his brown ones. "I was hired to work with the cook, and that is what I’ll continue to do, with the exception of being in the dining room to pour drinks for your guests. Flapjack will have to replace me in that area." She didn’t know where she got such nerve to speak to her boss like that. But then, he had no right to do what he had done to her over the last several days.
His left eyebrow had risen as she began speaking. His smile remained as he spoke. "Your demands will not be accepted. My orders will be as stated. You will not be working in my kitchen. You will be where I tell you to be. That is my standing order, until I choose to change it."
"And if I refuse?" She stood her ground, against the wall as much as was possible when he came back to her.
"Then I’ll just have to hunt you down and..." He held her shoulders, crushing her lips. Slowly he gentled his assault, until he felt her weakening under him. Having to hold her to him, he chuckled. "I can make you do anything I want you to do, Jenà."
Her words were whispered, and if anyone else would have heard them, they would have been confused, the tone and words didn’t belong together at all. "No you can’t, Ethan. I’ll fight everything you do."
Moving her from his chest, he peered into her eyes. "You, sweetheart, are putty in my hands. And I will get my way with you." His hands moved to her hips, pulling her tight against him as he again claimed her lips.
Where was the fight she always found when Westley made similar advances toward her? As she thought about that, she found her arms reaching up around his neck, her fingers tangling in the softness of his hair. She knew he was right, she couldn’t fight him when he was so close. Her best defense was to stay miles away from him.
"Now, let’s get your belongings. You’re moving upstairs, into the suite next to mine." He moved from her, opening the closet.
"So you can keep an eye on me?" She leaned against the wall for support her voice quivering, yet full of the passion he had just brought out of her. "No. I’ll stay here." Her voice was too soft, she knew it was inviting him back to her.
Looking through the clothes on the hangers, he pulled out a light pink chiffon dress. "I want to see you in this. I know it belongs to you." He held it out, his orders would be followed through. Without help, or with, he didn’t care.
"It is mine." She grabbed it out of his hands. "I won’t put it on." She hugged it to her, crushing the material into wrinkles.
He smiled a very mischievous smile. "If I have to undress you, I’m not sure I would stop until I have your naked body beneath mine. You’re so very desirable, Jenà." She knew by the sultry way he spoke that he was dead serious.
Turning, she opened the door to the bathroom, closing it behind her, locking it, and she heard his chuckle. She stood against the door, refusing to do what he told her to do.
"The lock is easily picked from out here. If you aren’t back in this room in two minutes, and in that dress, I’m coming in." He threatened, knowing she heard him, though she remained silent.
Disgustedly, she unbuttoned the front of the black dress, dropping it to the floor. She almost hated the dress she was pulling down over her head. It had been one of her favorites, next to the light green one, but now that she was being forced to put it on... Then, try as hard she might, she couldn’t reach the zipper to pull it up. She would end up having to ask for his help. Closing her eyes, she thought about what could happen if she did that.
"Jenà?" His voice continued the threat. When she didn’t answer, he made good on his words, finding a bobby pin on the dressing table beside the ponytail. Inserting it in the small hole in the doorknob, he turned it until the lock was free. "I warned you."
Her back was to him, and she was trying desperately to reach the metal that would knit the two pieces of material together. As she knew would happen, she felt his hands taking over.
"There." He spoke as he finished what she couldn’t, putting his hands on her waist. "When did you cut your hair?"
"The other night." She wondered why he had asked. "It was beautiful, but I definitely like it this way." He caressed her neck with his moist lips, leaving her skin very heated where he touched. "I’m having a very difficult time staying away from you."
"Not that I noticed." She tried to step away from him. "Ethan, you said you wanted to see me in the dress. Well?"
Reluctantly he backed from her, allowing her to turn. The approval was in his eyes. "That will do for later. Have you anything more comfortable you would rather wear right now?"
"That would depend on what you have in mind." Her head lowered, her eyes focusing on the buttons on his shirt, as she thought about what he might think she was suggesting. "I mean..." She really didn’t know what she meant. Looking at her watch, mostly for distraction, she noted the time. "Won’t your guests wonder where you are?"
Walking out of the small room, he answered. "No. My guests know to expect me when they see me, if they want anything of me, that is. They are all capable of taking care of themselves."
"As long as one of us is at their beck and call." She said hotly. "I don’t understand you people. Why you need servants, when you have everything we do. The difference is that you refuse to use your own." She was at the dresser drawers, looking for a pair of shorts and a top.
He was behind her again, taking her arms, feeling her muscles tense. "I think I like you better right here."
"Look, Mr. Ayers. I took this job because I didn’t have anything on my books for more than three weeks, and it just happened to fall into your cruise time. I don’t need the money from this job, I’m doing fine for myself. I have everything I need, and I thank God I had enough insight not to fall into my sister’s footsteps." She didn’t know what had gotten into her. The lack of sleep mixed with the ups and downs of her emotions around this playboy. She could blame it all on the latter, alone.
He had stepped back at her words, sitting on the bed beside her guitar. "Tell me what is really wrong, Jenà. I’ve obviously sparked something off in you."
Turning, her face red with embarrassment from her attack on him brought, she spoke in a nicer tone. "I’m sorry. It’s just with no sleep all night, and the pushing I get from you, I can’t handle it. You toy with me, tease me." Tears sprang up in her eyes unexpectedly, as her voice took on the squeak that would tell him she was too upset to continue. She turned around quickly, hoping he hadn’t seen them.