Belle - Lesley Pearse [81]
‘It was good enough for me to want more,’ she whispered.
He moved and slid on to the bunk beside her, scooping her into his arms. ‘You are a little temptress,’ he sighed. ‘You will do well in New Orleans!’
He kissed her again and again until her whole body was aching to be caressed too. But though he kissed and nuzzled at her neck, her arms and fingers, he didn’t attempt to go any further.
Belle knew he desired her, she could feel his cock straining to be released from his trousers, but when she tentatively put her hand on it, he gently removed it.
‘Time for both of us to sleep,’ he said, kissing her forehead softly and getting off the bunk.
He took her clothes from the top bunk, blew out the candle and leapt up there, and Belle stretched out in the space he’d vacated and smiled to herself as she smelled him on the pillow.
No man would be so frightening now she knew how sweet it could be. She felt sad that Etienne wasn’t prepared to be the one to initiate her in the arts of lovemaking, but he had made her understand what desire was.
‘Bonsoir, ma petite,’ he said softly from above her.
‘Goodnight, Etienne,’ she whispered back. ‘If the gentlemen of New Orleans are all like you I won’t have any trouble loving them.’
Chapter Fifteen
Gold cherubs holding up an alabaster table, turquoise velvet couches strewn with gold and pink satin cushions, a white piano, and a life-size painting of a naked lady lying on a couch hanging above the white marble fireplace – these were just a few of the marvels in the drawing room of Martha’s maison de joie, as the woman had called it. Belle had to force herself not to be distracted by the splendour and to pin her ears back so she could hear what Etienne was saying to Madame Martha.
She was a very big woman of around forty-five. Belle thought she must be five feet nine inches or so, and at least fifteen stone; her hair was bleached a golden blonde and piled up on her head in elaborate coils. But however big or old she was, she was still beautiful, her skin like ivory satin, eyes so dark Belle could see no iris. She was wearing an apricot-coloured, loose-fitting tea dress with elaborate beadwork around the low neck, and her huge breasts billowed up and threatened to spill over. Her feet were tiny, encased in embroidered slippers the same colour as her dress, and her equally small hands had a ring on every finger.
‘Belle is very different from your usual girls, madame,’ Etienne said very politely. ‘She is intelligent, she has the poise and communication skills of a fully grown woman; she is also a kind, caring and sensitive girl. I wouldn’t dare to try and tell you how to run your house. But I got to know Belle well on the long journey here, and I believe it would be more fruitful for you to hold her back. Let her learn from the other girls and perhaps even tease the gentlemen a little with her.’
‘If I wanted your opinion, honey, I would’ve asked for it,’ Madame responded. Yet despite what she’d said, she looked amused at his cheek.
‘I wouldn’t dream of offending such a beautiful woman,’ Etienne said silkily. ‘It was just that I know sometimes girls are whisked so quickly into working that their true assets are not noticed. Belle has been treated very badly, abducted from her home and taken to Paris where she was subjected to the kind of thing I know you abhor. She could do with more time.’
Madame was nodding her head as Etienne was speaking, but once he reached the part about her being badly treated in Paris, she turned to look at Belle appraisingly.
‘Is that so, honey chile?’ she asked.
‘Yes, it is,’ Belle replied, surprised to be spoken to. ‘I was abducted because I witnessed a murder. In Paris I was raped by five different men, and then I became very ill,’ she admitted. But not wanting to look as though she was permanently damaged, she smiled at the older woman. ‘I’m all better now of course, and I would make a very good maid and I could help you all around the house with cleaning, laundry and even cooking.