“I hope you’re not making him any promises.”
Alex grinned. “Of course I’m making promises. I promise him every time he comes over that we’ll have amazing, toe-curling—”
“I’m not listening.”
“Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex. If you think he can do great things with roses, you should see what he can do with a woman’s bud.” Alex giggled, a smug, satisfied look plastered on her face.
“It’s called a clitoris.”
“You need a vacation. Stick a week’s worth of condoms in your purse, find a good lay, and don’t come up for air until you’ve run out.”
Lila coughed on her cigar smoke, thinking about her dream with Tristan. Whenever she had dreams of impeded sex, it usually meant she was in dire need of it in reality. Perhaps Alex was right. She really did need a vacation.
A sex vacation.
She drooled a little at the thought.
“Is that what you’ve been doing with Johnny? Taking a vacation?”
“Why shouldn’t I? I’m never getting my mark back, not unless the Slave Bill passes, and we both know that’s never going to happen. Johnny is just a bit of fun after a very long day.”
“A bit of fun?”
“Fine. He’s a giant ball of fun. He’d be even more fun if I didn’t have to dodge Georgina. I swear, that woman knows.”
“Trust me. She doesn’t. If Georgina knew or suspected, she would have wanted you off the estate. She wouldn’t have asked nicely, either. If you want to sleep with him, fine, but make sure he’s worth it and try not to let her find out. I wouldn’t let the chairwoman transfer you to La Porte, not if I could help it, but I don’t want to think about what I’d have to trade to keep you here.”
Alex took a large puff and exhaled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Are you still seeing Sebastian?”
Alex smiled slyly. “When I’m in the mood. I’ll give you his number if you want. You could use someone with his—”
“I was just curious. He was never really my type.”
“I’m starting to think your type requires batteries.”
“Yeah, well, your mouth requires batteries.”
Alex snorted, smoke thickening in the air. The pair watched Johnny and the slave for several long, quiet moments.
“Alex, how long has it been since you’ve seen your mother?”
“My mother?” Alex asked in surprise, tilting her head. “I haven’t seen her since the day of the auction. Afterwards, I mean. In the garden. Why?”
Lila recalled the meeting. Immediately after Alex’s purchase, Chairwoman Wilson had cornered the purring Chairwoman Randolph. She had offered half the Wilson-Kruger estate in exchange for the return of Alex’s mark. Beatrice had laughed at the woman’s proposal, and said that she had no intention of settling for half of the Wilson estate when she’d get the whole thing in a decade or two. She was patient enough to wait.
Lila had tried to reason with her mother but to no avail. Chairwoman Wilson could not hope to match the price that they had paid for Alex’s mark, and the land under the estate was worth far more.
Beatrice Randolph had always been fond of land.
“You haven’t seen her since?” Lila asked.
“Of course not. When my mother took me into the parlor after the meeting, she told me that I was the stupidest, most selfish brat in all of Wilson history, including my great-great-aunt Sofia. I was worse than an assassin because I’d ruined the prospects of the family. Me, and all alone by her estimation. I was a disappointment to every Wilson and every Wilson ancestor, and she never wanted to see me again. She even went so far as to say that if I hadn’t belonged to your mother already, then she would have sold my mark herself. I’ve respected her decision and stayed away. Happily.”
“You don’t want to see her?”
“Not even if she was on her deathbed.”