Guilty Pleasures (2 page)

C
arla Johnson had been married for more than thirty years to a good man. They lived in a large comfortable house on Ansley Court in the small town of Egret Pointe. Their children were grown and not a problem. Rick had a thriving law practice with his best friend, Joe Pietro d’Angelo, in the village. Carla had gone back to nursing at the local hospital. And together they had a fun social life and a regular sex life.

But all that didn’t mean a girl couldn’t long for something a wee bit more exciting, which was precisely the purpose of the Channel. With a special remote from the Channel, you could program your wildest fantasy and actually live it. Nowadays the Channel remote could program two fantasies, so you could switch from one to the other if the first bored you. You could delete your fantasies and replace them with new fantasies whenever you wanted.

Carla Johnson, however, had only one fantasy programmed in her remote. The year was 1680, and she was Captain Raven, a dangerous and feared pirate queen. When she had originally programmed her fantasy, Carla had sailed her vessel out of Jamaica. Recently she had created a small island called Amorata Cay, belonging to her alone, that served as her home port. It was a hilly landscape with cliffs that fell into the sea but for a half-moon cove bordered by a small sandy beach.

She had created a house high in the hills that gave her a 360-degree view of the sparkling turquoise sea surrounding Amorata Cay. This was where Captain Raven came for refuge when she was bored with the excesses of Jamaica and her pirate world. The only other humans on Amorata Cay were her servants. Captain Raven didn’t keep slaves, and her servants were available only when she inhabited the island. When she wanted her privacy, her crew would leave her on Amorata Cay and return to nearby Jamaica for their own amusement. A carrier pigeon kept her in touch with Jamaica.

In the fantasy, her alter ego, Captain Raven, would sail the Caribbean, taking fat merchant vessels for their cargo and wealthy passengers for ransom or whatever else they might offer her, but she never deliberately sank a ship or killed. That wasn’t a part of her pirate fantasy, although the other captains peopling her secret world mocked her for it. And oddly the bounty on her head was greater than that for any of the other seagoing outlaws. A woman who captained a pirate ship, could use a sword as well as she did, and commanded the respect that Captain Raven did was not to be tolerated.

Carla had enjoyed her fantasy for several years now, but of late it hadn’t seemed quite as exciting and fun as it once had. She suspected that was why she had created Amorata Cay and the beautiful home, which she seemed to prefer inhabiting rather than slumming in the waterside taverns of Jamaica, fighting, drinking, and getting screwed by various handsome men. There was no excitement in it any longer.

“Hey, babe!” Her husband, Rick, came through the kitchen door from the garage and planted a kiss on her cheek. “How were things in the ER today?”

“Quiet, thank God,” Carla replied. “One kid who fell out of a tree and broke his arm, an early labor, and an oldster with a small heart incident. The kid got a cast and went home. The other two were admitted. What’s new with you?”

“I’m going to Europe with Ryan Mulcahy,” Rick said in a rush.

“I thought Joe took care of his legal business,” Carla said.

“He’s Ashley’s attorney. I’m Ryan’s,” Rick replied. “They didn’t want a conflict of interest with their two businesses.”

“I don’t see how there could be a conflict between a guy who does restorations and reproductions and his wife who sells sexy underwear and nighties,” Carla noted.

“Neither do I,” Rick admitted, “but they wanted separate lawyers.”

“So why are you going to Europe?” Carla wanted to know. “And how long will you be gone?”

“A week, ten days. Ryan is buying a controlling interest in a small company that makes perfect replicas of seventeenth- and eighteenth-century furniture hardware. They have the original molds. The company is in Austria. Then we’re going to England on our way home. He’s got another small group of artisans there making replicas of antique clock corners, hands, and dials. He’s debating about buying them up,” Rick told his wife.

“Well,” Carla responded, “I guess that’s why you took those new courses in international law last year. This has been in the works for a while, huh?”

Rick nodded. “Yep,” he said. “Ryan asked me almost two years ago if I would represent him. I told him that I didn’t have enough of a background for what he wanted, that I was just a garden-variety country lawyer. While I could be there for him nationally, international law was a whole different thing. You know how he is. Just shrugged and told me to go get what I needed. Joe agreed. So I did.”

“You are something else, Richard Johnson,” Carla said admiringly. “I know how hard you studied so you could do this.” Then she chuckled. “You’re going to make a lot of money out of this. I want that superdeluxe cruise next winter. We can do a half round the world. Be gone for six weeks. First-class all the way!”

Rick laughed. “You know what, babe? You plan it, book it, get the tickets. We haven’t had a
real
vacation in years. We’re due. As soon as you have the dates set, I’ll let Joe know, and he can cover for me while we’re away.”

“You mean it?” Carla was delighted.

“I mean it,” Rick told his spouse. Then he said, “You going to be all right while I’m gone? Maybe you should have one of the girls come home to keep you company.”

“God, no!” Carla exclaimed. “I’ll be fine by myself. I’m on the seven a.m.–to–seven p.m. shift this month. It will be light when I leave in the morning and light when I get home at night. Rina, Joanne, and Tiffy are all home too, so I’ll have plenty of company in the neighborhood.”

“And you have your programs in the evening,” Rick said with an indulgent smile.

“Yep,” Carla agreed. “I do love my telly.”

He was relieved she wasn’t upset about the trip. Rick didn’t think in all the years of their marriage they had ever been apart for more than two or three days, and that had been when their girls were born. “I’ll call you every night,” he promised her.

“No,” Carla said. “Call me when you arrive so I know you’re safe. Then call me on Sunday. Remember the time difference between here and there. Besides, I don’t relish being called in the middle of the night, sweetie. Every time the phone rings that late, I think someone has died. Where are you going first?”

“We’re flying to Vienna. A car will meet us and stay with us until we fly to Paris, and then London,” Rick told his wife.

“Vienna, Paris, and London? Wow! Do you need an assistant?”

Rick laughed. God, he loved this woman! “Wish I did,” he teased, “but then I’d have to take that hot new paralegal we recently hired.”

“Over my dead body!” Carla said. “I think I had better take you upstairs and remind you just where your loyalties lie, sir.”

“Yes, ma’am!” her husband said, grinning. “I love your reminders, babe. I do!”

Why did some women whine about their empty nest? Carla wondered afterward. Having her husband all to herself, knowing some kid wasn’t going to burst in on them, was wonderful as far as she was concerned. And Rick, considering he was past fifty now, was still an enthusiastic lover. But having him away would not be such a terrible burden. She had some time coming to her at the hospital, and she would take a nice long weekend so she could enjoy the beautiful home she had created on Amorata Cay. And who knew? Maybe she could come up with some new exciting adventure and end her ennui with her pirate fantasy.

Two days later she kissed her husband good-bye, but it wasn’t until he called her from Vienna that Carla felt free once more. Rick’s absence was really quite an opportunity for her. She didn’t have to hide out in her craft room, where she usually accessed the Channel from her recliner. She could do it from their bedroom. The day after Rick had told her he was traveling on business, Carla had put in for a four-day weekend. Since she rarely asked to take any of the time she had built up, her request was granted. Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday were hers.

Rick had left on a Thursday. He called her on her iPhone as soon as he and Ryan Mulcahy reached their hotel. It was just after four in the afternoon in Egret Pointe, but after midnight in Vienna. “Call me Monday instead of Sunday,” Carla told him. “I think I’m going out to dinner at the club with the gang on Sunday.” He agreed and rang off.

When Carla got home, she didn’t bother cooking for herself. She had eaten a salad at the hospital. She hurried upstairs and quickly undressed, then got into bed naked. It was almost eight p.m., and the Channel opened at eight p.m. sharp. Grabbing her remote, she pointed it at the television in the media center across the room and pressed the A button on it to access her fantasy.

And there she suddenly was. Naked, in her big fourposter mahogany bed with its delicate white netting, which during the day was tied back but now was loose about the bed, keeping her safe from insects. The French doors to the second-floor balcony that surrounded the house on all sides were open. Carla could see the blue sea beyond and the sunrise now dappling the sky with a rainbow of strong colors. A light knock sounded on her bedroom door. “Come in,” she called, and the door opened to reveal her personal maidservant, Violetta.

“Good morning, madam,” the bondwoman greeted Carla as she stepped into the bedroom. “Shall I prepare your bath for you?” She carried a small tray with a cup and saucer upon it. “I have your chocolate, madam.” Violetta offered the delicate china to Carla.

The mistress took it and sipped slowly at the brew, which was sweetened with her own sugarcane. “Aye, a bath would be perfect. I have accounts to do today. I think it may be time to go hunting again soon, although frankly I enjoy just being here on the island.”

Violetta smiled. “It is a pleasant habitat, madam,” she agreed. “I’ll have the bath set up immediately.” Then she bustled out to marshal the male servants to bring the water to madam’s bathing chamber, where the beautiful white porcelain tub with its high back, decorated with delicate rosebuds and edged in real gold, was installed.

Carla sat up in her bed enjoying her chocolate as a warm trade wind ruffled the sheer bed curtains. She had just finished, setting the cup and saucer on the nightstand, when Violetta came to announce that her bath was ready. The mistress of Amorata Cay rose from her bed and walked across the chamber and into her bathing room. Steam, fragrant with the scent of night-blooming lilies, arose from the tub as she stepped into it and slid down into the water to enjoy it. “It’s perfect as always, Violetta,” she called to her maid. Servants should always be praised for a job well done, Carla believed.

She enjoyed soaking in the exotic oily water, but then as the water eventually cooled, she picked up the cake of fine milled soap containing the matching fragrance and began to wash herself. “Violetta, put out a simple gown for me today. I do not have to dress elegantly to peruse the accounts.”

The servant did not answer.

“Violetta?” Carla called. Hellfire and brimstone! Where had that damned woman gotten to now? Was she with one of the men again? Violetta did have a rather strong libido. “Violetta! Violetta!”

“I’m afraid, dear madam, that Violetta is not available to you at the moment,” a deep masculine voice said. “She is far too busy servicing my first mate.”

And then a man stepped into the bathing chamber. Actually, he had had to duck as he came through, for he was at least half a foot over six feet in height. His hair, which was pulled back and obviously held by a ribbon, was bleached golden by the sun, and his piercing eyes were a startling sea blue. He was dressed in traditional pirate garb: breeches held up by a wide belt, boots, and an open linen shirt that revealed a smooth, well-muscled expanse of perfect pecs. In his left ear was a small, round golden earring.

Now where the hell had he come from? Carla wondered. She certainly hadn’t ordered him up, but she had to admit he was a yummy specimen and quite new to her. Still, she had created this island so she might have her privacy. “How dare you enter my home uninvited?” Carla said angrily. “Who are you?”

“The name is Hawke, Captain Raven. Lord Julian Hawke, and ’tis you who are trespassing, not I,” the big man said. “Amorata Cay belongs to me.”

“It most certainly does not,” Carla said vehemently. “I won it in a card game in Jamaica several years ago. I built this house as my refuge.”

“The man who wagered it had not the right,” Hawke answered her. “Had he lost heavily to you?”

Carla nodded. “He wanted one more hand, but had no coin. He told me he owned a small island, Amorata Cay, and he would wager it against all I had won that evening.”

“But he lost,” Hawke said.

“He lost,” Carla replied as she considered just how this man she had never imagined had ended up in her fantasy. He had moved farther into the room, and as he did, she looked past him and saw Violetta upon her bed, her legs wrapped about the torso of a rather beefy man who was fucking her for all he was worth. Well, the wench was no virgin. Carla had caught her several times with the men servants. “Get out of my home,” Carla said again. “And take that randy pig fucking my servant woman with you.”

“Nay, Captain Raven, ’tis you who must leave,” Hawke told her in a hard voice.

“This is
my
house!” Carla said angrily. Damn! The water in her tub was practically cold now.

“And ’tis
my
island,” he responded. “It would seem we are at an impasse, madam. I suppose we shall have to take this matter to Governor Morgan in Jamaica to be settled, but I cannot see him awarding you my property.”

“Where were you these last three years?” Carla demanded to know. “Why would you think I would believe you just because you have said that Amorata Cay belongs to you? Where is your proof? And aye! We will take this to the governor in Jamaica. He is a dear friend of mine despite that ridiculous but flattering bounty he put on my head.”

“Would you like to get out of that tub?” Hawke asked casually. “I’m of a mind to follow my first mate’s example.” He turned his head. “Nestor! Take your wench somewhere else. There have to be other bedrooms in this big house. I want some privacy when I do her mistress. When you’re through, make certain the men have secured everything and send back to the ship to come around to Half-Moon Cove and anchor.”