Aris and Evangeline

Port-Au-Prince, Haiti, May, 1891

Evangeline stepped off the passenger boat where she had spent four months crossing the great Atlantic. This was by no means a pleasure trip. She had received three letters within the last year from her step father, begging her to come retrieve him from the clutches of a merciless trader to whom he was indebted. She had ignored the first letter, tried ignoring the second, but by the third, Arnoldo had gotten crafty and sent it to her brother, Rui, who begged on his behalf. Unable to refuse her youngest sibling, out of her deep love for him, she agreed to retrieve the bastard.

She had no loyalty to Arnoldo DeCosta. He had made her suffer all her life and had practically squandered her mother's money on gambling and women, leaving her and her brothers poor and destitute. He had even sold her to the highest bidder to pay off a minor debt. Something she could never forgiven him for. It was thankful for her that her late mother's strength and resolve filled her veins or else she would've gone mad years ago. It was also her luck to get out from under Arnoldo when she did to make her own way in the world. That same luck garnered her a marriage to an ailing old man, who needed to leave his money and business to a wife rather than his rotten, spoiled children. She wouldn't call herself a gold digger since it had been a beneficial arrangement for the both of them, but she had no great love for her now deceased husband, only respect. She had spent his last years learning how to run his loges and bars, which brought her a hefty penny and gave her siblings work. Through his teachings, she had become a rather shrewd and successful business woman, better than any owner on the island.

Now, here she was coming half way around the world to retrieve Arnoldo's sorry carcass home. Disgust didn't even describe her dislike. She fairly felt sick. Thankfully, at her side was her loyal company, Como Andrade. A stout fellow of mixed cultures, Como came in handy in negotiating more difficult traders and merchantmen. Particularly those who disliked dealing with women as was often the case.

"Como, I do not want to be stuck here for more than two days," she stated firmly descending the gangplank. "Whatever Arnoldo has got himself into, if money cannot get him out, then he stays and we return to Matu."

"Singha," Como agreed in their native tongue.

"The nerve of him to ask for my help," she fumed. Como sighed, having heard the same argument since leaving port in Santiago. "Oh, and to use my brother to get what he wants. He will pay dearly."

"Don't stress yourself, Eve," he consoled calmly. "Arnoldo knows the debt he will owe you."

They entered a waiting coach and proceeded out of town to the villa mentioned in the three letters. By all accounts, Arnoldo was being held hostage by an Aristotle Beauvois, just outside the city limits. He was demanding not only payment for the goods Arnoldo "lost", but an extra sum for his release. Evangeline tried to think how to spare the payment for Arnoldo. She had been so deep in her thoughts she had not noticed the estate coming up. It was the guards at the gate demanding identification that drew her attention. Evangeline finally noticed the palatial mansion before her and stared in awe. It stood in immaculate white surrounded by gorgeous palms and shrubbery and was heavily gated with armed guards standing sentry.

A barrage of French curses streamed back and forth between the guards and driver before her coach door swung open to allow the two men to see Evangeline and Como. Satisfied, the guards granted them passage into the estate. It took another two minutes to reach the front of the house. Como dismounted from the carriage to lend Evangeline his hand. Once she stepped down her eyes swept the beautiful courtyard. It was magnificently tiled a mixture of rough marble and rock and covered with blooms and a babbling fountain. It was all very lovely.

So engrossed in the beauty around her, Evangeline had not noticed the front door open nor the man filling it, but Como did. The giant was intimidating at first sight, dark as sin with his long, raven-colored hair parted into two large plaits running down his back. He was dressed like an aristocrat, but his intensity was far from genteel. Como quickly waved to Evangeline to draw her attention, since the man was heading right for her.

"Madame Monteiro, I presume?" he demanded startling her.

Evangeline turned toward the deep voice and found that her breath ceased to move in her lungs. He was sinfully handsome with his dark skin and striking features. He was built like an ox with strong broad shoulders and a barrel chest. The dark framework of his square face gave way to a freshly trimmed beard and full lips. The sable hint to his eyes could be compared to the soulless depths of a shark. They were meant to bring fear not instill desire. Yet, Eve's eyes could not help but rake over his frame from head to toe in the most unladylike manner. She was quite impressed.

"Yes," she replied, coming out of her awe, "I'm Evangeline Dias Monteiro. I take it you're Aristotle Beauvois?"

She had lent her hand for a firm shake, but Aristotle merely glance at it before returning his eyes to her face. The hand was far too delicate, and he feared he'd crush it. She was not what he had expected based on what Senor DeCosta had described. He had fully anticipated a hag of a woman walking through his door, not this raving beauty. Her skin was just kissed by the sun giving a sweet canvass to rose petal lips and gold colored eyes. Hidden beneath a large sun hat, he noted that her brown hair was tinged with streaks of blond adding to her goddess like visage, falling down her back in long, silken curls. A man would kill to possess a woman like her. Maybe he should rethink Senor DeCosta's original deal.

"Yes. Please. Follow me."

He turned to re-enter the villa, fully expecting Evangeline to follow. She spared a tentative glance toward Como who seemed leery of the situation, despite coming this far. Lifting her skirt, she proceeded into the house, where she was treated to more beauty and luxury. Sunshine spilled into the large, open foyer, twinkling against the marble floors. A round table held up a huge vase of freshly cut tropical flowers. However, Evangeline could not stop to admire the area long since she was doing her best to keep up with Beauvois who had disappeared into a room toward the back of the hall.

"Monsieur Beauvois, I hope I am not being too rude in saying that I would like to conclude this ugliness with my step father as quickly as possible," she announced upon entering the room, removing the hat.

"It has been settled with your arrival," he threw back, settling in the chair behind a massive desk.

Como and Evangeline exchanged looks again, confusion shadowing their brows. "I beg your pardon?"

"Senor DeCosta will be sailing back to your homeland once word of your arrival has been sent," he explained.

"What?"

"Your step father negotiated his release by placing you in his stead. He claimed you were a wealthy heiress who could more than cover the loss as well as the extras. He also sweetened the deal by offering your services to me." The last had been said as his eyes roamed over her frame much as she'd done in the courtyard, causing an improper heat to seep into her along with an indignant rage for Arnoldo.

"He did it again, Como!" she blasted in her native tongue. Como tried to halt her pacing but knew better than to grab Evangeline while she ranted. Stopping mid step, she took in a deep breath to calm her nerves, then she turned her golden eyes toward the man, who sat calmly watching her. "Monsieur Beauvois, I cannot accept those terms. I have businesses to run back home. Surely, Arnoldo mentioned this. I can pay whatever you want, but staying - "

"One year."

"One year!" she shrieked in surprise, all other thoughts fled her mind. "That is preposterous!"

"Your step father destroyed one year's worth of my cargo, that is more than fair," the man bargained, his eyes penetrating hers soundly.

"A debt that is not mine but his," she stated firmly. "Make him work for it."

"As your step father, he has authority over you, which means he can put you in his stead," Aristotle countered.

Evangeline stared the man down, her golden brown eyes twitching with her irritation, but also with cunning. A smile creased her sweet lips. "How fooled you've been, Monsieur Beauvois. Arnoldo DeCosta has had no hold on me since he sold me to the highest bidder at age thirteen to cover his last brush with death over his debt. Since then that snake has had no authority over me. I am my own woman, a widow and business owner. I am here at the request of my half-brother for whom I dearly love, not because Arnoldo's ordered me here."

Aristotle thought over her words. Clearly Arnoldo had indeed fooled him, but seeing the lovely krioula before him now made him want to continue being the fool. She had fire and spunk the like he had never seen before. Most woman, and some men, cowered in fear of him, but she wasn't intimidated by him at all. She held her wits about her and controlled what appeared to be an unruly temper very well. What drew him to her more was the underlining passion and sensuality she exuded. He had noticed her perusal of him in the courtyard. She had liked what she had seen, and was bold enough not to mask it.

"Authority or not, you are here and I've waited long enough for my payment," he stated firmly rising. "You will stay to cover your step father's debt."

Evangeline glared fiercely at the man. "Then renegotiate the term. I cannot, in good conscience, be gone from my businesses for that long a period. Two months."

Aristotle's blood surged in unexpected excitement. She was seriously going to negotiate down the time. "Nine months."

"Four months."

"Seven months." He stepped closer hoping to unnerve her to accept.

"Five months and no more." She too stepped closer, her hands placed firm on her hips and her chin lifted. "And you must let my man, Como, return to the islands in my stead."

Aristotle looked down at her lips. The pout was so lush he itched to taste them. Her bargain was more than fair and he was certain he would tire of her long before then. Glancing at the other man, who stood wide eyed with anticipation of his answer, he nodded his head agreeably. Relieved, just slightly, Evangeline motioned Como forward. She reached for the pen and paper on the man's desk and began to scrawl something. Once finished, she handed two sheaves to Como. "Make sure one gets to Nato, and the other to my lawyer, Marceo. Get on the fastest boat back to Matu. Beat Arnoldo home."

Como nodded. "But, Eve. Shouldn't someone stay behind and..."

"And what, Como? That dog's done it again. But don't worry, this time he'll get his. Marceo will insure me of that," she replied cryptically. "I have no doubt Arnoldo will tell my brothers that I left him in charge and try to ruin my businesses. Now, go before it's too late."

"Singha," he replied adding, "As soon as I deliver the messages I will return."

She nodded before accepting the hearty hug from her friend. Once Como had left, Evangeline turned toward Aristotle. The last time she had been traded into servitude, the man had been looking for more than just dusting and cooking. Lucky for Eve, the man's wife was ever vigilant and had protected and shielded her. It was when she left them a year later that she had to barter her virtue for food and a roof over her head, since Arnoldo had refused her her childhood home. So, she was no fool to a man's lust, but what made her different from other women was she was no fool to her own. She knew he had liked what he'd seen, just as she had liked what she'd seen. Maybe being his servant wouldn't be too bad. It would be no more like playing a mistress, a role she was more accustomed to.

"Should I ask what you sent to your solicitor?" Aristotle wondered curiously.

"Nothing for you to be concerned with. Marceo has been instructed to take care of Arnoldo when he gets home," she explained. "A parting gift from my late husband on his deathbed should Arnoldo ever darken my door again. And he has."

She was ruthless he quickly noted. If he understood correctly, either a jail cell or coffin awaited Arnoldo DeCosta and she had no remorse in issuing the order. He snorted in surprise.

"That's a very unladylike gesture."

"If you'd been on the tail end of Arnoldo's treachery you'd think me merciful," she explained. "I blame that monster for my mother's death and for the things that have happened to me. It is only by my mother's guiding spirit that I still stand with my head high... despite my past hardships."

Aristotle nodded understandingly. He noted the pain tinged in her eyes and strangely it pricked his heart. Apparently, Arnoldo had taken much from the woman and probably deserved no pity at all. If he had fast runners he would have him retrieved back from the ship, but it should've have sailed by now. Once Evangeline's ship had landed and she had disembarked, he had been released to the captain and they had sailed within the hour. However, the desire he had for her was far outweighing fulfilling her need for revenge. Besides, now that he knew she had taken care of the situation via her man, he could toss his concern away.

"And now, Monsieur Beauvois-"

"Please, Aristotle or Aris."

"We will need to set ground rules, Aris."

"Ground rules?" A brow lifted in curiosity.

"Yes, ground rules. Let's not act like this arrangement is for a normal servant. I already noted several maids and footmen, so you are in no need of that kind of indenturitude."

"You get right to the point, don't you?" he stated drawing closer to her.

"Years of practice." She lifted an arrogant chin before turning her golden eyes on him. "Now, you may have the use of me all you like, except on certain days. Those being obvious, unless you keep French letters handy. At the end of this, I have no desire of leaving here with a child, you understand? And I also require Sundays off. Lord's Day, you know. Even mistresses respect that. Second, I want nor do I desire a relationship. It's obvious we both find each other appealing, but lust is as far as it goes. Understood?"

Aristotle stood amazed by her frankness and business-like approach to the whole matter. He thought over everything she had said and had to admit he had mentally made those same rules. Unlike any other woman, even a whore, she wasn't trying to pose a challenge, be difficult or romanticize the situation. She wanted it to be a clean and cut arrangement. It was actually daunting having the terms spelled out.

He drew her hand to his lips and kissed it gently, stirring desire in her stomach. "I agree to your terms."

"Good," she smiled sexily.


Evangeline escaped to the safety of her new quarters after making arrangements for later with Aristotle. The room was more than lavish. It was beautifully wallpapered in an ivory and gold pattern and freshly painted chair rails with complimenting wainscotting of a warm bright white. The bed was a large four poster beast covered with tulle netting to keep out pesky bugs. The wooden posts adorning it was painted a shimmery gold to match the wallpaper and other trimmings. A gentle breeze billowed the sheer curtains providing some cool air as it stirred the steam in the large claw-foot porcelain tub, which Evangeline could not resist after the day she'd withstood.

Sliding into the water's sweet embrace with a heavy sigh, she recalled the conversation she had with Aris. He had seemed surprised by her ground rules but had not flinched in agreeing to them. The rules were more for her than they were for him. She hadn't lied about her attraction to him, but she hadn't admitted that it was stronger than she had let on. Evangeline had prided herself on her approach to lovers and keeping them at arms distance. Love was a trivial thing she had no time or want for, but Aristotle had stirred things in her that she had not anticipated. She felt the deep need to employ further restrictions on herself to keep her heart safe. How foolish would she be to fall for a man who lived across an entire ocean? Preposterous, she admonished. He would be good for a roll or two, but he was no way long term material.

A soft knock drew her from her thoughts. Glancing at the clock above the mantle, she frowned slightly. It couldn't be Aristotle since he had mentioned dinner would be in the hour and afterwards they would begin their arrangement.

"Enter."

Her eyes widened slightly seeing the very man who'd filled her thoughts walk into the room. A curious countenance crossed her brow, causing the large man to smirk. He had removed his gray overcoat and looked quite rakish in his white linen shirt, unbuttoned just below his chest. His eyes locked with hers seductively as he sauntered toward her bath, swishing a glass of rum in his hand. Leaning casually against the door jamb, he studied her.

"Aren't we early, Aris?" she questioned aloofly returning to her bath, trying to ignore his presence. A tinge of annoyance clamored through as heat began to simmer in her body causing her nipples hardened invitingly. She disliked this immediate desire he ignited in her.

"Yes," he admitted taking a sip of his drink. "But ... a man can change his mind."

Her eyes shot over to him. "Change your mind? Change your mind about what?"

"I find I can't wait for the arranged time, my dear Eve," he stated plainly, placing the glass on the table by the door.

He was doing his best to feign indifference, but his body was goading him something fierce. Ever since she had left the study he had tried to still his need, but he couldn't. His manhood had throbbed mercilessly, begging for release. Truth be told, it had started the moment she had stepped out of the carriage. For some God awful reason he wanted this minx and he wanted her badly. There was something about Evangeline that fired his blood. Was it her boldness? The directness? The fearlessness? The beauty? Whatever it was, he needed to assuage this need now. In two strides, he was at the tub, reaching down to pull her from the steamy water.

His lips crashed over hers fiercely drawing the breath out of her lungs. For a second she tried to push a way from him, but the hot passion that transferred from his body to hers stopped her resistance cold. Greedily, her legs wrapped about his waist as her breasts rubbed slowly against his chest, firing her already sensitive nipples. Her waist long locks clung to her back providing little cover for her rounded bottom. Aristotle carried her to the bed, dropping her upon the mattress. Propping herself up, Evangeline watched as Aristotle tossed off the soaked shirt. Their eyes never wavered from one another. Aristotle took in the full magnitude of her nakedness as it stretched out on the bed, while Evangeline watched him undress.

Her waist was slim, flowing temptingly into curvy hips and lengthy yet rounded thighs. Her hefty, upthrust breasts were full and mouthwatering, framed by delicately strong shoulders. She was the very image of sex and all its trappings. He wanted to ravish her from head to toe and know every nook and hollow. Quickly dispensing with his boots, he unbuttoned his buff colored trousers in one swoop and tore them down his long legs. Evangeline inhaled slightly at the sight of his engorged manhood. Her throat constricted in awe and her tongue went dry, thirsting for the beast before her.

He was impressive. His dark skin glistened silkily against the fading sun streaming into the room. His muscles rippled tautly, leaving no room for pouches or loose skin. He must work his own ships right alongside his men, because he was a specimen of their rigors.

Aristotle approached, his fingers reaching out for her legs, caressing them gently. An electric current ran through her causing shivers of pleasure to shock her. Gripping the limbs securely, he pulled her body closer to him, surrounding her thighs about his own. His thick member rested a hair's breath from her apex, causing phantom tingles to titter there. Instead of going straight for the kill, Aristotle leaned his massive frame forward to place kisses along her quivering stomach. Inhaling deeply, he took in the scent of fresh cut flowers that perfumed her body. His hands explored her other treasures carefully, namely her delicate globes. 

It had been a while since her last lover; whatever his name was. Evangeline seemed never able to find the time to enjoy the freedoms of her widowhood with all the matters that needed her attention. Fate had deemed it necessary she take this time for herself; odd way of getting it, she mused. But despite the nature of their arrangement, Evangeline was dead set on making sure her pleasures were fulfilled along with this indentured servitude. It seemed that Aristotle was already fulfilling his end of the bargain most deliciously. His lips scorched her beyond reason as they caressed and suckled her. Her nipples roared to life as his mouth gently pressed and pulled, sending rippling shockwaves down and throughout her body.

Her fingers ran along the ridge of his shoulders taking in the broad muscles there. If she had been inclined to fight him, she knew it would've been a lost cause. For he possessed the strength of the fiercest ox. Suddenly, Evangeline was hoisted from the bed and placed astride the beast, the man. His lengthy fiend lurked just outside her wet entrance. Surprise had greeted her eyes at the position exchange, but soon a seductive leer and smirk replaced it. She rested her palms softly against his chest for leverage before swiftly plunging him into her depths. Aristotle's head reared back in immediate satisfaction, feeling the cavern close and open against him.

The thickness of him could only be matched by his lengthiness. A gasp fell endless from her lips as she pummeled again and again. Her long hair draped over them providing a small semblance of privacy. His hands rested possessively over her hips drawing them to him. Aristotle bucked wildly beneath her, drilling her with his lust, but Evangeline gave as good as she got as she swiveled and rode. In all his years, he had never encountered a woman as lust-hungry as himself. He watched with avid amazement as the petite krioula took pleasure in the ride he offered, never shying from him or the act.

Taken aback, he reached up to pull her mouth to his. He needed to taste her, feel her mouth meld with his. He raised up to a seated position, his legs dangled over the bed, cradling Evangeline to him. Their lips folded over one another, each trying to steal energy from the other. Suddenly, the lust began to pull into a new direction, urgency became desperate. Tremors began to rack Evangeline the likes she'd never felt before. It was near painful, but so euphoric. Her toes cramped against his back, trying desperately to seal him to her as his hips continued to wave beneath her. Ripping from his mouth, she screamed in breathless ecstasy, milking his snake of his sweet venom. Aristotle took a gentle bite of her neck hoping to mask his own cry of release, but to no avail.

Exhausted, they fell back on the bed sated. Evangeline lay with her head turned away from Aristotle hoping to hide the utter shock he had caused her. The clouds had not cleared, she was a muddled mess. She still throbbed; she could still feel him throb. What had just happened went beyond pure release and gratification. She gulped for air as she tried to recenter her thoughts. Finding the strength to mask her amazement, she rose from the bed to the bathroom.

Aristotle lay staring up at the ceiling, trying desperately to calm his warring body. Suddenly, his eyes sought Evangeline's body. He needed confirmation this woman was real and not a figment of his imaginings. Her back was to him as she entered the bath to retrieve a wash cloth. She was beyond beautiful, this was true, but she was beyond any man's sexual expectation. She had the grace of a lady, but the skills of, dare he think it, a lady of the evening. He highly doubted he would be able to let this trinket go in five months if this was what she delivered every time.

Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by the lady herself. "I guess we've concluded this evenings amusements. Good night, Aris."

Aristotle's eyes diverted to hers in surprise. She had donned her robe, was just tying off the belt, when she had made the declaration. Was she dismissing him? He rolled to his side to lean on his elbow to study her closely. Her eyes were unreadable. Her demeanor spoke nothing of exertion from their little tryst. There was no afterglow or dreaminess. Aristotle was thrown, completely. He rose and absently pulled his pants back on. Had her reactions been a lie? A performance? Most of the woman he'd bed would be sighing breathlessly beside him, even common whores, but this woman seemed unaffected. For some reason, it annoyed him.

"I hope you enjoyed yourself," she stated, sauntering to the door. With a swish, she opened it.

Aristotle approached slowly staring her up and down. Evangeline smiled with the air of a feline as she handed him his shirt. He was damned to ask her since she had been well aware of his own enjoyment based on her own statement. Taking the shirt, he left the room followed by a soft click of the door.

Glancing back, Aristotle studied the door, curious about the women therein. "You will definitely be a challenge, Eve," he mused as he walked away.


"And you will be mine," Evangeline sighed as she leaned against the door, clutching her heart.