Born into the lap of luxury and a time of turmoil, Duchesse Eleonore Vigneron experiences her coming of age in the Court of Louis XVI . Embroiled in the chaos that surrounds Versailles, Eleni uses her unique blend of wit, charm, and beauty to ensure...
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"The music as always had a dark sweet lustre, but it was more than ever like an endless beginning-a theme ever building to a climax which would never come."--- Anne Rice, Queen Of The Damned
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Eleni had disappeared from sight, but not from the mind. She had made sure of that. The figure of the small raven-haired woman was barely seen as she took cover in the alleyway between the club and the small row of shops next to it. The Red Question was prime real estate since it had buildings adjacent on one side. The other was the waterfront, allowing patrons to watch the rippling waves from the upstairs balcony, or throw beads as if it were a New Orleans-style party.
That was a good show. Entertaining to watch. It is hard to keep away from you when I see you like that. Fortunately, he was much easier. The poor man, his mind is not any match for yours. Even as she kept herself out of sight, the voice still tormented her. It won't be much longer now before you get what you need. He is in the office now, drawing up a contract. He is filled with torment. He no longer wants just an employee but a mistress. A few more days like this, he'll want a wife. Eleni shook her head no and shuddered in revulsion at the thought.
The voice did not lie. Victor spent the rest of the night polishing off the bottle of Scotch and popping strawberry candies while typing up paperwork. The more he drank, the more he thought of Eleni. It was right to make her wait, he thought to himself as if it were his choice and nothing to do with her. I can't have her at the club. I can't let her be on display like a common whore. I need to offer her something else. It's a shame, she'd make so much for the club. But I can't share her. Stupid, right? She's just another broad.
It wasn't a convincing argument. He needed her now. There was something odd and compelling about her, the way he still felt her hand touching his though she'd been gone for hours. The more he thought about Eleni, the more carried away he got. She is not innocent, but she doesn't understand this town. She needs to be protected.
When he finally closed up for the night and stumbled out of the bar, he had gone through fifteen drafts of his paperwork to hire Eleni, two bottles of Scotch, and a stash of candies. He smelled like booze and strawberries and sex, all rolled into one. He had started to hear her voice, feel her hands on his body. When he didn't, a voice in his head kept telling him what to do. He'd never had that, what people called a conscience, he guessed.
