The Importance of Being Alice

  And he’d certainly be having a word or two with his mother about her ploy of sending Gunner out to check up on him. Just the idea that she would be investigating Alice was annoying enough, but when she coerced his own brother into meeting with him to find out what was going on, well, that was outside of enough. He’d sent Gunner on his way with a proverbial flea in his ear, and he wouldn’t hesitate to do the same to his mother.

  Alice took his hand, her fingers warm against his, reminding him of just how aroused those fingers had made him feel a few short hours before. “Most of the time, I’m just coasting along thinking my thinky thoughts about stuff, and then you say things like castle and dower house, and it makes me feel like I’m in a Georgette Heyer book.”

  “Not Jane Austen?” he asked, smiling down at her. Lord, she was pretty. How could he ever think she was just a normal woman, one with requisite bits and pieces, but not the amazing package of femininity that he now knew her to be? “I always fancied being the dark, brooding Mr. Darcy.”

  “Oh, he was definitely hunky, but while you’re dark enough, and handsome enough, to be him, you don’t brood.” She gave his fingers a squeeze. “Although I bet you could do the haughty lord of the manor thing pretty damn well.”

  “It goes with the title,” he said in his plummiest voice. “We are required by law to cut the hoi polloi at least once a year, or the title passes to the snobbiest relation.”

  “I just bet,” she said with laughter rich in her voice. “What would the people in your castle do if you started talking like that?”

  “Probably drag me out to the pond and throw me in it. Or call a mental health official,” he admitted, returning to his normal voice.

  “I would totally support a pond scene like the one in Pride and Prejudice, but only if you were stripped first.”

  He slid her a glance out of the corner of his eye. She was giving him a lascivious grin that made him feel like singing at the top of his lungs. “You have a smutty mind, Alice. It’s one of the many things I admire in you. Unfortunately, we are in a holy place, and although I don’t particularly hold strong religious feelings, I feel it would be insulting to the caretakers of this cathedral to give in to your lustful desires and engage in sex right here and now.” He thought for a moment. “Although I have to admit it is a tempting thought. . . .”

  “Good lord, you really did know what I was thinking. I agree, however—we shouldn’t get it on here. Maybe later, in our cabin. Or if we can find a dark alley. Or even a moderately dim one. Oh lord, there’s the she-hussy. She told me she’s going to steal you from me, not that you’re mine to steal, but I just thought I should warn you that you’re in her sights.”

  He glanced to the side. Deidre was indeed moving their way, a sultry look of invitation in her eyes. “How unfortunate. Come. Let us make our escape while we can.” He took Alice’s arm and steered her to a pack of tourists, weaving skillfully through the people until he found a secluded niche featuring the stone depiction of a saint. “I don’t think she’ll find us here, not unless she comes looking for us.”

  “I wouldn’t put it past her. That woman seriously wants into your pants.” A mischievous glint lit up her eyes. “Which, I have to admit, is on the top of my to-do list, as well.”

  “This insatiability in you is somewhat shocking. I don’t know whether to be pleased that our lovemaking was of such a high quality that you immediately want more, or if it’s an indication you are one of those sex-addicted people who are never satisfied.”

  Her expression went from teasing to serious in a flash. She blinked. “Oh. I’m sorry. Did I come on too strong? I’m not really one of those sex fiends—”

  He wanted badly to kiss her at that moment but, mindful of their surroundings, contented himself with taking her arms in his hands and giving them a little squeeze. “I was teasing you, Alice. I know you’re not a sex addict.”

  “Oh, good.” She slumped in relief. “Because I was enjoying conducting highly charged sexual banter with you.”

  “As was I, although if we continue along that line, you’re going to make it extremely painful for me to walk. Shall we cool down our libidos with a spot of crypt viewing?”

  She glanced at her watch and scrunched up her nose in a way that reminded him of a rabbit. An adorable rabbit. “Actually, as interesting as the cathedral is, it’s kind of crowded, what with Deidre likely to appear at any moment. Would you mind giving the rest of the tour a pass? I’d much rather just walk around and kind of soak in the atmosphere of Cologne. Maybe have lunch at a cute little place. That sort of thing. Does that sound too boring?”

  “It sounds,” he said, turning her and giving her a gentle push toward the door, “like a much more pleasant way to spend the day than here. The ship doesn’t sail until nine tonight, so we can have dinner in town, too, if you like. And yes, I will order for you.”

  Elliott felt a slight twinge of guilt over the next few hours. He really should be working, not enjoying a delightful day sightseeing with Alice, but he told himself he wanted to make sure that she wasn’t secretly feeling guilt about their recent intimate activities. The truth was much less altruistic; he simply enjoyed time spent with her too much to give in to the demands of his tight writing schedule.

  As it was, the hours passed quickly by with his regard for Alice growing even more. She wasn’t just easy on the eyes—there was a sharp, fast wit behind that pretty face, one that made him feel pleasantly off-balance. She was impulsive, to be true, and made giant leaps in logic that he didn’t always follow, but even those traits, which he would consider flaws in anyone else, were oddly attractive in her.

  “My feet are about ready to drop off,” she said in the late afternoon, after they had left the Jewish Museum and its attached archaeological dig. “I could really use a break, and something cool to drink. That looks like a bar. Let’s go in there and rest a bit before we decide where to go for dinner, OK?”

  They had turned off the main avenue onto one of the lesser side streets. Alice made a beeline for a brightly lit window through which a neon bar gently glowed. His eyes widened at the sign, and he hurried after her, trying to stop her before she entered. “That’s not a bar, Alice.”

  “It’s not?” With one hand on the door, she peered through the window. “Sure it is. See the people sitting there? They have drinks.”

  “I can guarantee you that what they are drinking contains no alcohol.” He tried to tug her away from the door, but a mulish look flitted across her face.

  “How on earth can you guarantee that?”

  “Because they don’t allow alcohol in sex clubs.”

  Her mouth dropped to form an O of astonishment. She turned to look through the window again. “Wow. It’s one of the sex clubs? How come people are sitting at a bar drinking and not having wild orgies?”

  “The orgies are conducted in the private rooms. They have a social area out front where you can mingle and meet someone with whom you can partner up. They make it look like a bar, but it’s really not. Let’s go a few streets over. I believe I spied a more suitable establishment there.”

  She looked thoughtful. “Can couples go into the sex places, or do you have to pick up a partner there?”

  “You can’t seriously be saying you wish to go in there,” he asked, nodding toward the entrance.

  “Well . . .” She made a face, then gave him a half smile. “Actually, I am. I mean, how many opportunities do you have of going to an authentic kinky German sex club? I wouldn’t go by myself, but if I’m with you, then I wouldn’t worry about someone trying to pull a fast move on me.”

  A little devil made him say, “I assure you, my sweet little squab, if we go into that club, I will most definitely be pulling moves on you, although I can’t guarantee as to the speed or lack thereof.”

  Her eyes appeared to darken. He knew it was just a sexual flush, and the reaction of her
pupils growing, but it had the result of making his penis stir, which in turn had him thinking that perhaps a visit to the sex club wasn’t as outrageous as he first thought.

  “Not many men can get away with leering at a woman while saying formal phrases like ‘lack thereof,’ but boy, did you manage it. And speaking of that, you’re on. So long as you don’t get too wild on me. Should we have a safe word? I think we should have a safe word. What should it be?”

  “Sauerkraut?” he suggested.

  “Ew. Don’t like. I know, Wiener schnitzel! That makes a great safe word. Can we sit at the bar first and pretend we’re looking for other people?” she asked as they entered the club.

  “We can, although I assumed you would wish to avoid bars.”

  “Because I don’t like to drink? Naw. It’s never bothered me when people around me are drinking, although I will warn you that if you’re going to indulge, I’m not going to enjoy kissing you a whole lot.”

  He was about to ask why when the answer occurred to him. “The taste of the alcohol?”

  “Yeah. You try kissing someone whose mouth tastes to you like rubbing alcohol, and see if you can keep from making a face. It’s very off-putting.”

  “I understand completely, and promise that if I feel the need for a drink, I’ll do it when you aren’t around. Not that it will be an issue at this establishment.”

  He stopped at the desk and paid the (substantial) fee for a couple to use the facilities, and received in turn a sheet explaining the rules, and the prices of various theme-oriented rooms. He had to admit that he was a bit disconcerted by her desire to sit at the bar, reminding himself that although he was attracted to her, highly attracted to her, that didn’t mean she didn’t have some odd kinks that he hadn’t discovered yet. Perhaps she enjoyed the idea of picking up a stranger?

  She seemed to sense his concern, because she leaned into him and whispered into his ear, “Don’t look so shocked, silly. I don’t want a threesome or to hook up with someone; I simply want to sit because my feet hurt, and I really am thirsty. I won’t be able to say ‘Wiener schnitzel’ if I don’t rehydrate, let alone have the strength and stamina to do anything else. Wait—are these places clean enough to do anything else? Because if it’s going to be all scummy motel inside, then I’ll give it a pass.”

  “I’ve only been to one club such as this before, but it was quite clean, and judging by this lobby and the price of admission, I assume it won’t give offense. Although . . .” He gave her a long look. “Forgive me, but I’m not sufficiently acquainted with you to know if you just are curious about the club, and want to see what goes on here, or whether you’re so horny you are looking for a reasonable place to have what is usually called a quickie.”

  She sank onto a free chair with a sigh of obvious relief. “Can you get me a tonic and lime? No booze, just tonic water and lime. A really big one, preferably with ice, if they have it.”

  He cocked an eyebrow at her until she giggled and poked him in the stomach. “Perhaps it’s a little of both? Or maybe I’m just keeping my options open.”

  “Hmm.” He said nothing more, just got them both drinks, his suitably nonalcoholic, and returned to the table, which was now being shared with two men.

  “—and that’s flattering as hell, but really, I don’t think my boyfriend would be at all into that. He’s not the sharing kind, and he’s big, and actually, he’s a lord, so he might have some sort of a pull with whatever royalty you guys have here. Or even be related to them! So thanks for asking me to be your . . . what did you call it? Pony leader? Man, I don’t even know what that is, but I’m pretty sure I don’t want to be it. . . . Anyway, thanks, but no thanks. Oh, hello, Elliott. This is Elliott, boys. Note his size. Note the fine definition of his bicep. Note the scowl that says he doesn’t want to have a foursome. Elliott, this is Jurgen and Fritz.”

  “Charmed,” he said drily, giving the two men a look that let them know they’d best take themselves off.

  They took themselves off.

  “You were right, this bar is kind of hookup central,” Alice said, taking a long pull on her drink before holding the glass to her cheeks. “That feels sooo good. I didn’t realize how hot it was out until I started getting parched. So, I found this.” She slid a piece of paper over to him. “I can’t read what it says. My German tourist app is evidently quite lacking. Is it a menu for food, or sex?”

  “Sex,” he said, glancing at it. He did a double take at a couple of the items available.

  “That good, huh?” She scooted her chair over until her breast was pressed against his arm. “Translate for me.”

  “Mostly these are just rates for standard rooms, use of the pool and sauna, and additionals like a video camera and something that I assume is equivalent to aromatherapy.”

  “I sense a however in there,” she said, nudging him with her elbow.

  “Yes, well.” He tapped the lower half of the menu. “Evidently this establishment caters to some different tastes. There are standard sex club rooms—flogging, voyeurism, standard BDSM setups—and then specialty rooms. There is a historical room containing stocks and a mock thatched cottage, a medieval dungeon, complete with torture implements, an upside-down room where clients can hang upside down suspended from the ceiling, a faux doctor’s office, complete with instruments of a gynecological nature, a pirate ship, and a children’s room.”

  “Ew,” she said, wrinkling her nose again. He had to fight back an urge to kiss her. “They cater to pedophiles? We’re leaving.”

  “Not pedophiles, no.” He consulted the sheet. “It sounds more like fairy tales and the like.”

  “Oh. That might be fun. But I have to admit, I really want to see the pirate ship. I love pirate stuff.” She squinted at him. “Do they hire out costumes? Because if we put a Johnny Depp wig on you, I’d totally hoist your mainsail.”

  “Are you saying my mainsail won’t receive any attention unless I don the garb of a pirate?”

  “I like it when you do that,” she said with a big smile.

  “Do what?” he asked, somewhat startled when she pointed at his face.

  “Cock your eyebrow. It’s just so . . . you. No, of course I don’t need you in a pirate outfit to ogle you and want to lick you all over, and basically jump your bones from here to next week, but come on! We’re in a sex club, we have four hours before the ship sails, and there is a piratin’ to be done! Is the pirate room expensive?”

  He glanced at the sheet again, calculated how much money he had budgeted for the trip, adjusting it to include the price of the specialty room. He’d simply cut back on the redecoration fund for the dower house. “No,” he lied, the tingly feeling back as Alice gave him a sloe-eyed smile before sipping her drink.

  “If you asked me a few days ago if I ever had piratical fantasies, I would have answered no,” he said some twenty minutes later, closing the door to the pirate room behind them. They surveyed their new domain—theirs for the next hour—with interest. Alice held a stack of fresh bed linens in her arms, an indigo and lavender captain’s hat upon her head. “And yet, here we are.”

  “Yeah, it wasn’t high on my bucket list, either, but hey, you have to take life by the horns. Do you want to wear the hat first?”

  He eyed it before setting down the plastic-wrapped set of faux-leather cuffs, plastic rum bottle (containing their beverage of choice, which in this case was a cola), nylon lightweight version of a cat-o’-nine-tails, and stuffed parrot with alligator clips on its feet. “No, thank you.”

  “It’s new.” She held up the plastic bag that had contained the hat. “No cooties from a former user.”

  “Indigo and lavender make me look sallow,” he said, holding out the parrot. “Do you think the clips on this are intended to be used to attach him to your shoulder, or for nipples?”

  She pursed her lips. “I think they probably leave that up t
o you. I have to say, I’m a bit sad we didn’t go for the full costumes, because that Elizabeth Swann dress was just gorgeous. But I felt a bit weird wearing something that someone probably had sex in. I mean, I know they clean them and all, but still.”

  “It’s not something I wish to use, either. So. What do you think?”

  Alice set down the sheets and looked around the room, her hands on her hips. “I like the pirate ship. Can we climb on it, do you think?”

  “The sign says so.” They strolled across the room to where the forepart of a ship, and part of a cabin, projected from the wall, as if the ship had docked right there. To the right of that, a mural depicted a town set in the Caribbean. A small cannon sat next to the wall, as did small wooden stocks, a few barrels and crates, and, opposite that, a wooden shack about six feet deep that held a utilitarian bed.

  “I guess I should make the bed,” Alice said, taking the linens into the shack. Elliott wondered whether she expected him to role-play—he’d never been one to get into make-believe like that. He didn’t think his imagination worked that way. Would she expect him to be a swashbuckling pirate, and sweep her up in his arms whilst scattering yarrs and ahoys hither and yon? He eyed the stock. Perhaps she wanted him to use that on her. Now, that was a much more interesting idea. He could definitely see himself standing behind her, admiring that wonderful ass of hers while she pleaded with him to satisfy each and every one of her many needs.

  Yes, the stock was good. The nipple-clamping parrot another matter. He had no real use for it, but since it was included in the price of the room, he felt obligated to take the beastly thing. Perhaps Alice might like to keep it as a memento? He examined the parrot again, wondering idly what nipple clamps felt like.

  “What on earth are you thinking about? You look like someone just asked you to circumcise yourself with a dull table knife.”