Aris and Evangeline - The Townhouse

Aristotle led Evangeline into the restaurant. Several of the patrons stopped him as they passed their tables to give him greetings. Their curious gazes studied Evangeline closely, but he hadn't been moved enough to explain or introduce her. She merely smiled and kept moving on. The less people knew of her the better. The maitre'd sat them by the beautiful bay window looking out toward the ocean.

"The regular, Monsieur Beauvois?"

"No, Thierry, bring me a bottle of your best white."

"Certainly."

Evangeline waited for the man to leave. "It seems you've caused quite a stir."

Aristotle glanced about noting the patrons staring this way. "It's not me. It's you."

"Why would I cause a stir?"

"They've never seen me usher anyone other than my sister into the restaurant."

"Why change your routine?'

Aristotle looked at her, lost for an answer. He hadn't thought anything of taking her to his favorite place. It seemed like a natural thing to do. Many of his lovers had demanded they be wined and dined, but he had flatly refused their desires. He didn't want to be linked to anyone or be part of the rumor mill. Yet, here he was with Evangeline; a woman, for all intent purposes, who was a prisoner in his home. Why did he feel the need to go about town with her?

"Let's say it needed a little ruffling."

Evangeline smirked. "Thankfully I won't be here too long to cause you too much grief."

Something in those words pricked at Aristotle. The very thought their arrangement was temporary did not sit well with him. She seemed at peace with the arrangement and having listened to her history, he could even understand why. She loved adventure, thrived on challenges. In essence, she was like him.

"Your wine, Monsieur." The man, Thierry, presented him a gorgeous bottle.

Aristotle popped the cork, then handed Evangeline the bottle for her inspection. A faint look of surprise crossed her eyes as she took the bottle. She lifted the bottle to read the label, then proceeded to go through the testing. Pouring it into a glass, she swished the liquid about to release the fragrance. The smell was pleasant, but flat. She had no doubt the taste would be the same. Everyone in the place watched her strange little ritual with avid interest. When she had finally taken a sip of the wine, swishing it in her mouth, a collective breath held.

With a heavy sigh, Evangeline looked up at Thierry with a tsk. "Monsieur, if this is the best you offer, then you do your patrons an injustice. This wine is flat and devoid of any life. The vineyards from where you acquired this wine has had crop failings over the last decade, particularly this year you've given us. Whoever provided you this batch swindled you and you have in turned swindled your guests."

She could see the man's face redden with outrage. Aristotle laughed into his napkin. So, Evangeline hadn't been lying about her knowledge or her trade. He, of course, knew that Thierry purchased sub-par wines on the cheap, boasting they were the best. Most of the city folk were fooled, but not the well traveled. He himself had tried the wines of the American Californias and France and knew the true distinction.

"And what would you know about wines, Mademoiselle?"

"Easy, Thierry, the lady is a winery owner. She could probably close down your stores with what she owns."

The man glanced at Aristotle. "What?"

"Madame Montiero is on leave from her business, traveling. She is a guest of mine. I thought you could benefit from her vast knowledge of wines and liquors, maybe even import her wares."

Both Evangeline and Thierry stared at Aristotle who gladly poured a cup of the wine to drink, despite the poor review. He scrunched his face at the taste, then shook his head. "This is horrible, Thierry."

Having heard Aristotle say it, the man grew shamefaced, then turned toward Evangeline. "Maybe it would not hurt to listen."

Evangeline laughed and began to tell the man about her stock of wines and liquors. The restaurant began to bustle again once the unpleasantness passed and the trio discussed everything from the stocking and storage of the wines to managing the bar, food and drinks. The cuisine Thierry served was excellent. He managed to obtain only the best meats and top chefs to prepare it. But the meal would definitely suffer it not paired with the right wines.

"You mean I could have access your wine stores-"

"If you cut me into your operations."

Thierry thought on the deal. Aristotle had been impressed with how easily she had gotten the man to negotiate such a deal. She had laid out the perfect scenario without appearing to be muscling in on his business.

"Hm. I'd need to speak with my partner."

"Are they here?"

"My mother tends to relax most days, now that she is getting on."

"Ah, a fellow business woman. Well, if she doesn't mind the company, maybe I will sit down to tea with her."

"Oh, oui. She'd love it! She's been such a hassle because I've had to retire her from the kitchen."

Evangeline chuckled. "I'm sure that gnaws on her. Look at me, I'm traveling and can't seem to get away from work." Her eyes fell on Aristotle, who merely grinned at her.

"Well, allow me to let you two enjoy the remainder of your lunch, on me."

"Merci, Thierry," Aristotle thanked keeping his eyes latched on Evangeline. "You were amazing."

"Was this a test?"

"Maybe."

"Did I pass?"

"Most undoubtedly. But there was an ulterior motivate."

"And what was that?"

Aristotle leaned closer resting his hand on hers. "Now, you'll have a reason to come visit Haiti more often."

Evangeline frowned. "I hate to disappoint you, Aris. But once I conclude our arrangement, I am not coming back."

"Well, how will you manage things with Thierry? You seem very hands on."

"Most likely, I'll send one of my managers here to take care of things. Besides, Thierry can handle his own operations and deal me my profits. In fact, I was thinking of promoting one of the assistants in Rui's loge to a new position."

"I see." Aristotle nodded, sitting back and looking away.

Evangeline sensed the shift. She needed to keep a distance between them. She had no time or machinations on becoming involved. He didn't fit into her world and she didn't fit into his. They were simply enjoying each other and each other's bodies. Why did he want to complicate things? It was already growing hard to not want him every second. Clearing her throat, she knew she had to lighten the mood.

"Does this place have a room?"

Aristotle glanced at her and smirked. "No, but I do keep a townhouse."

"I require a bit of exercise for all this food I've consumed. Would you oblige me?"

Aristotle's loud laughter drew eyes toward him as he tossed his napkin down and took her hand.


A short ride down from the restaurant put them in front of a quaint little townhouse. Aristotle helped her down from the coach and told the driver to return for them in the evening. As they entered the house, he quickly swooped her into his arms for a hungry kiss. Evangeline drank it in enjoying the feel of his lips on hers. The carriage ride had been a test of wills for her, since she had wanted to throw herself into his arms and taste every part of him. She had eaten well at the restaurant but the hunger he induced in her was insatiable. Images of the morning kept cropping into her thoughts making her shiver pleasurably. But their conversation from earlier also had overtaken her thoughts. She couldn't lie to herself that the prospect of being able to return to the island, even on business, made her giddy, but she couldn't fall for such a trick to her heart. She had no room for it and felt it was a waste.

With a sigh, she pulled back from his embrace. "Aris, you do understand the nature of our arrangement? Right?"

He gave her a sexy smirk, running a hand over her cheek. "I do."

"So, let's not get silly. Let's just enjoy what we have and not get wrapped up in all of this, shall we?"

Aristotle studied her and knew what she was saying was true. Nothing more could be drawn from two people who didn't want a serious commitment. Their lifestyles left no room for such trivialities. "My dear, it is not easy not being silly over you. But I will heed your words."

Evangeline sighed with relief, clasping his hand to her face. "Good. Now, where's your room?"


Aristotle led her up the grand staircase to his master suite. It rained with glorious sunlight and another breathtaking view of the ocean. He truly loved the ocean, judging how both his properties and rooms always faced the majestic vista. Removing her sun hat, she glanced about the room. The bed was large covered in a gorgeous muted blue cotton covers befitting a man. The furniture was a rich mahogany wood, sturdy and very masculine. The walls were striped in a glorious matte color matching the linens. She made her way to the French doors to take in the midday breeze. Since they were closer to the ocean the smell of the air was saltier. She could even taste it on her lips.

Aristotle watched her. He'd never brought any woman to his townhouse before. It was an invasion of space he would not allow, always opting to be in their bedrooms instead. The escaping was always easier that way. But for some odd reason, Evangeline felt right here. He wanted to share this space with her. Her scent mingled with that of the ocean drawing him to her. He placed his hands on her delicate shoulders, then leaned down to place kisses along her neck. He heard her breath catch, which caused his body to tighten. This was a woman meant to be pleasured and she reveled in it.

Evangeline turned in his arms, her eyes catching the golden rays of the sun, flashing them back at him. He could stare into them all day if he had a mind to. His mouth descended on hers taking in the faint taste of sea salt. His two loves: the ocean and a lusty woman. Her warning still echoed in his thoughts, but he ignored them. He wanted to be caught in this rapture, trapped in its silliness. This lady did things to him that made him feel so good, it was painful.

Evangeline felt the flutters in her stomach like an adolescent girl with a schoolroom crush. This feeling couldn't be shook. His hands wandered down her frame, exploring her curves. Finding the buttons of her gown, he began to undress her slowly, taking his sweet time. He seemed intent on savoring the moment. She knew this time would not be like the morning; fast, furious, exhilarating. It would be slow, deliberate and wroth with passion beyond belief. She felt the lace slip over her slender shoulders and down her arms like one caress. Her breathing faltered as he pulled her toward the bed, leaving the dress pooled on the floor.

The intensity of the kiss began to build, growing demanding, yet maintaining its slow pace. Evangeline grew hungrier, more desperate. Her arms reached back to his neck as his fingers unlaced her shift. The motion hoisted her pert bosoms. As the cotton quickly fell away, it revealed her creamy tan skin beneath. Her nipples stood at attention begging for his mouth, but he did not oblige them. His hands gently held her breasts, squeezing their fullness against his palms. Evangeline drew in a shaky breath, trying to still her shivers, but his hands didn't stay still long. Running down the length of her ribcage, pushing the petticoat further down until it too pooled to the floor.

He drew her bottom up against his throbbing length which ignited a fire that exploded inside her at the contact. Turning about, she clawed at the buttons of his shirt, wanting to feel his skin on hers, but Aristotle quickly snatched her hands. This time he would not fall prey to her seduction. This time she would be the one to fall. Running his hands down her back to the rise of her rear, he repeated the same treatment as bosoms had received. She was so soft and supple he could not help himself.  Gently, he pushed her back onto the bed, wrestling out of his jacket and coat. Once freed, he pulled her hands over her head, keeping them out of reach of him. Their eyes met sparking an electrical current.

Her breathing had picked up. She did not like the idea of being held down. Her fingers itched to touch him, but Aristotle appeased her tiff when his lips began to explore her. He dotted an unpredictable trail down her frame causing pockets of heat in those areas. Moans echoed from her as she squirmed against the bonds of his hands.

"Easy, my dear Eve." He chastised running his tongue over her distended nipple, causing her to gasp in pleasure.

"Release my wrists, Aris." She gritted through her teeth.

"Oh no. Not this time. I want to enjoy you this way, devoid of your magic. I want to see you writhe in need. I want your control broken."

Evangeline smirked like a cat at the cream. "You will be disappointed."

"Will I, really?" He challenged running his hand down her middle, causing her hips to arch up. "Your lust will make you eat those words."

His mouth resumed its work on her breasts, devouring their fullness, before venturing downwards. Evangeline tried to control the lusty feelings that consumed her. This was an utter role reversal for her. She was usually the one in control. The one who would torture and tantalize. All her lovers had been rather selfish in allowing her to do so, but it was her way of insuring that she was always satisfied as well or there would be no repeat performances. Some had learned that the hard way when their repeated requests for a second audience never received responses. However, Aristotle was taking that from her. His arrogant assurance that he would break her sparked her stubbornness, but his skill was assuring his success.

His tongue had dipped into her belly button making her shiver in delight. "Wicked beast," she rasped, feeling the sensation down to her core. His chuckle infuriated her, but excited her at the same time.

Soon, his mouth cover her mound taking in its taste and fragrance. Her sigh was his reward, just as it had been on the veranda that morning. He rolled the tiny nub over his tongue again and again, feeling it swell and throb. Evangeline's moans grew with each lave. He had pulled her arms to her sides, securing them tightly as he continued to feast on her delicate parts. Her essence spilled into his mouth, drenching it in her womanly spice. Delicious tremors shook her legs, causing her to toss about. Evangeline tried desperately to close them, but Aristotle's shoulders kept them spread.

His eyes stared at Evangeline and the ecstasy drawn on her face. Her eyes were smoldering and pleading, begging to be taken. He wanted no more than to end this torture and give her what she wanted but he wanted more from her. He wanted to watch her shatter. To see the exact moment that her body crescendo heavenward and fell back down to earth. If he had to suffer torture to see it, then so be it.

He continued his steady licking, keeping his eyes on Evangeline. Her back was arched off the bed, trying desperately to break his hold on her wrists. Her hair had come loose from its bun and fell in glorious long layers on the bed. She was a wanton sight, froth with sexiness. Evangeline fought the pleasure creeping deep within her. She had to find a way to reverse this. Each time she tried to gather her thought a flick of the tongue would render her paralyzed in pleasure.

Suddenly, an opening gave way. Aristotle had let go of her wrists. His hands traveled the path his lips had forged earlier. His long fingers found her slick entrance. Their eyes met again as he pushed into her drenched alcove, his thumb gently strumming her clitoris causing even more tremors. Evangeline, thinking quickly, gripped his other hand firmly and began to show it love. Aristotle watched as she rubbed her cheek against it. Her teeth grazed the sides with a small bite, not hard or painful. Then she used that smooth, velvety tongue on the inside of his palm to ease the mark.

Amazing, he could feel that tiny gesture all the way to his manhood. His already hard length was stretching even further. Evangeline could feel his fingers still on her quim, their fullness still lay within her, but the strumming was only an endurable pressure. He was mesmerized by what she was doing. Her lips wrapped about his fingers, slowly licking their length as she had down his manhood that morning. His mind wandered from his tasks. He lent his fingers to her further ministrations. Smoothly, Evangeline removed the hand occupying her mound and treated to the same attention, suckling the dew that drenched them.

Her fingers went to quick work drawing him closer. "You do things to me, Aris. I find I can't help myself."

He was floored at her admission. "What can't you help?"

"I can't help doing this." In one motion, she turned him onto his back and dipped her head down to claim a nipple. She suckled fiercely at the nub causing a groan to rumble in his throat, which pushed him further onto the mattress. She laved his skin from neck to stern in hot kisses, before venture further down.

"Or this."

Unbuckling his belt, she stuck her hand in his trousers to withdrawal his pulsing rod. Her fingers wrapped about the beast, squeezing and stroking it until his head and eyes rolled back. Then she slide his trousers over his firm buttocks, scraping the meat with her nails and drawing his member closer to her mouth. Her movements were delicate with a certain stamp of authority. "Oh, and I most certainly can't help this."

Her mouth quickly descended on him, engulfing him with her warm tongue. With her hands and mouth in play, Aristotle was at a complete loss. He hadn't even realized he had surrendered until he glanced back up to see Evangeline laying on him. Her head dipped and rose with delicious steadiness. Her eyes stared at him wickedly smirking. Rising, she snaked her way up his body.

"I did it again, didn't I?" she teased sweetly. "Snatched your treat away."

He snorted disbelievingly, then watched as she mounted him facing away. Leaning back over him, repossessing his manhood, she offered up her womanhood for him. Aristotle could see she was drenched to the hilt. Her little nub throbbed its plea. His hands gripped her hips firmly drawing her closer to his mouth. Soon, they both went to work tasting and pleasing the other.

This had been a first for Aristotle. Most women were opposed to his even tasting them, much less, the inverse, but this, this was new and it excited him. As his tongue delved her depths, he could feel her mouth slide over him. It was thrilling.

They set a synced rhythm that escalated their desires tenfold. It was a duel of wills that could make them both winners. The pressure was exquisite. The sensations unparalleled. His hands smoothed over her backside, feeling the silken blanket of skin. She was far too much for his senses to take.

"Evangeline," he groaned.

She chuckled in delight.

Evangeline loved doing this with him. She was pleased hearing his sighs and growls knowing she had caused them. And he hadn't even flinched when she had offered up this new position. She had learned it from a desert sheik who had passed through the islands on his way to the Americas. Most of her tricks she'd taken from him. He had told her about the pressure points that could drive a man wild with desire and she avidly learned them. She had treated these lessons as a game with her other lovers, a form of control, but with Aristotle she only wanted to give him pleasure. Her stomach fluttered when she felt him tremble with need. His manhood had nearly tripled in size and was on the brink of release. Something about that thrilled her, to fully taste him.

Aristotle pulled at Evangeline. He wanted to be inside her, needed to feel her drench him. But the sensations she was writhing from him was weakening his fight.

"Evangeline, you must stop," he rasped. "Or I won't be able to-"

The pressure of her mouth killed the words coming from his tongue. His hips bucked upwards allowing her mouth to play surrogate to her puss. Her fingers laced about the base adding to the fire.

"Explode for me, Aris. I want to fully taste you."

"You have to be joking, Evangeline!"

She flipped her eyes back at him, a most sexy sight. "No, I'm not. I want to taste you."

With that said, she returned her mouth to his staff and began to truly ply the pressure. Aristotle had never gone this far before. For all his brawn, this glorious mouth of hers is was rendering him powerless. He could feel the eruption starting. His manhood strained for release as Evangeline continued to stroke. She could feel the tightening of his stomach under her belly, the veins of his rod pushing the semen through. It was hot, rich against her tongue. Everything that made him poured into her mouth and she graciously took it in. The sound of his ultimate pleasure played sweetly to her ears. She could feel her quim quiver with the knowledge that she had fully satiated this man. Her cheek rubbed against his belly as she slid off his body. Their exhausted breathing was rhythmic, haunting. Their perspiration mingled creating a new scent. Aristotle was paralyzed. He was at a complete loss of sense and emotion. Not even his first time had been this thrilling or momentous. Evangeline had done it again. In less than two days, she had wrung from his body a new awareness of need and pleasure.

"Oh, Evangeline, what do you do to me?" he sighed pulling her closer.

"Pure silliness," she chuckled nestling his chest.

"And where did you learn such -"

"Trickery?"

Aristotle rolled on top of her pinning her to the bed. "Exactly."

"Do you really want to know?"

"I am totally intrigued." He nuzzled his lips against her slender neck.

She giggled at the tickle. "Experience."

"That's more than experience, my dear."

She laughed at his doubt. "Alright, I'll tell you. My first experiences with sex were rather transactional. I didn't even realize I could get any pleasure from the stupid act, until I met a Frenchman named Anwar. He found me very pretty and decided to mold me into his sex goddess. I was more than willing for Anwar was a very handsome man. He was the first to bring me total release. It was so good, I knew I'd become addicted. So floored was I that I fell foolishly and helplessly in love with him. Silly girl that I was, I thought he loved me too. Turns out he had a beautiful wife and child back home and no room for any more mistresses. After he left, I mourned and moved on with the lessons he taught me. And with this new knowledge, I was able to bump up my price.

I also became more selective and the customers more exclusive. Thanks to Anwar I knew I could have fulfillment and pretty much assured myself that I would. But eventually, my clientele grew stale and I was bored. That is when the old man came into my world and I was put on the path to being a business woman rather than a whore. Now, the old man was useless in the bedroom. In fact, he encouraged I find my lusts elsewhere. Pretty liberal for a man of his stature, but he knew what I had been accustomed to and didn't deny me. I appreciated him for it, so I did my best to keep my affairs close to the vest.

Well, one day, a sheik came to our town. He had come with his rather large entourage looking for a place to stay for at least a month or two before sailing to the Americas. We had more than enough room for them. The sheik had taken a bit of liking to me and so we became fast friends, despite the fact he had an entire harem to fulfill his needs. If I thought Anwar was an expert, this man could've written the book. He even had one of the women in his harem teach me a few things. I thought I had heard it all and could not be phased, but what she told me had my cheeks burning for days. I couldn't help but say, I couldn't possibly do that. She just kept assuring me that it was possible and there was no shame in it if there was mutual understanding and pleasure. The kind girl even gave me a book that contained numerous positions and their meanings and use - with illustrations. Apparently, they took this sort of thing seriously. In fact, when a young women reached a certain age in their country she was sent off to learn the art of pleasing her husband."

"A school?" Aristotle asked propping his head up to listen.

"Something like that." Evangeline waved away. Then she studied him closely, wondering how he was taking in this information. It was more than she had wanted to tell him, but she hadn't felt wrong in telling him about her experience. "It doesn't bother you to know that I'd been with so many men."

"No. How could I possibly judge you, when I've never had such restraints?"

This threw Evangeline. Other than Senor Montiero and the sheik, she had never met another man who had such a liberal thought towards her multiple experiences. Some woman were ashamed to admit their vast knowledge, even the widows and whores she knew. Why was it such a stigma for a woman to have multiple partners while men could rut around like dogs? It was Evangeline's understanding that if one did it with class and poise, it was not anything to be ashamed of.

"Well said, Aris."

"Thank you." He smiled, pecking her lips. He glanced toward the window and noticed the sun was starting to descend. "I fear we will need to leave soon."

Evangeline sighed as she started to rise, but Aristotle quickly pinned her again, filling her with his surprise erection. Her eyes met his wicked ones. "Why, Aristotle, you devil."

"You think I'd leave here without feeling this." He began to thrust against her, bringing about new tingles in her stomach. Her quim had still been zinging from his earlier ministrations and was more than glad for this intrusion. His finger laced into her hair keeping her lips prone to his. Her inner muscles gripped him, milking what he gave. Soon, they both tumbled over in a massive explosion. Coming down from the high, Aristotle softly kissed her lips. An act that spoke volumes in its gentle deliberateness.

Evangeline felt it prick at her heart and knew she had to kill it before it breathed too much life. Pulling away, she chastised. "Silly boy."

He caressed her cheek, refusing to be deterred. "Only for you."


The ride back to the villa was very quiet. Evangeline leaned against Aristotle to stare up at the night sky dotted in celestial diamonds. She was feeling well sated and spent, but her emotions were scattered. Why was Aristotle so intent on making her feel for him? He knew the arrangement, even agreed to it. So, why all the tenderness and caring? A long sigh escaped her lips, she knew she had to try another tactic to insure he didn't burrow his way into her heart.

"Tired, Eve?" he asked rubbing her arm gently.

"Very," she sighed solemnly.

"Well, I'm sure the staff will have dinner ready by the time we arrive, then we can - retire." He nuzzled his nose against her hair.

"I think we've had enough fun for the day."

Aristotle sensed the iciness in her tone, the indifference. It grated on his nerves. "Really?"

"Well, I am one woman, Aris, not a machine. Besides, what good will I be at paying down this debt if I keep obliging you this way? I won't last a week let alone five months. Also, remember it's Sunday tomorrow, my day off."

Aristotle pulled away in disbelief. It was as if the entire afternoon they'd spent together had been work. Was he wrong? Had she played him again? The woman could not be that good an actress. Aristotle gnashed his teeth together over the last statement. She wasn't truly serious about the Sunday business, was she?

"And what if I require you to pay your debt on the Lord's day?"

"Then our agreement becomes null and void, simple as that."

Again, disbelief clamored his thoughts. The woman was unbelievable. He could have her tied to a bed and take what he wanted for all the trouble she was giving him. But what could he say? He had indeed agreed to the terms, no matter how ridiculous, and she had obliged him thus far without complaint. It was her treatment of the situation, the callousness and frigidness, that turned him off. All that was missing was money exchanging hands. He thought she had felt more than that. Her body certainly had given every indication. She had returned his kiss after that incredible session of lovemaking as if... As if, what? He questioned himself.

You're the one getting caught up in this affair, not her, he chastised. She's got the right of it. Treat it like any other affair. But that was the crux of it. The other affairs involved some emotional entanglement, but not seriously. Evangeline was determined to keep this at an arms length, made more true by her aloofness now.

Evangeline sensed Aristotle's ire being pricked. She had to do it. If not to spare him, then to spare herself. No entanglements. She didn't want to be held down by another man. Arnoldo single-handedly ruined her childhood. She had to sell herself to strange men to feed her younger brothers. Anwar had trounced her heart. The old man used her to spite his family. And Aristotle was only adding to the number by insisting she pay her step-father's debt. Granted she was the one who agreed to be his bed mate in order to do it, but that was her choice. She refused to give a penny for Arnoldo's perfidy. Now her own ire was pricked.

The driver halted the carriage and Evangeline did not wait for Aristotle to dismount. She rose and left the carriage as gracefully as she could, never once looking back. "I will see you for dinner, Aristotle."

"Unfortunately, no. You will dine alone, Evangeline." He called from the coach before signaling the driver on.

Evangeline watched as he rode away into the darkness. Shrugging as if unaffected, she turned away to enter the manor.


The dinningroom was very quiet. Servants bustled in and out but no one stayed long to converse with her. Jacques had not made an appearance yet. He was probably readying for when his employer returned. The meal was excellent; a braised goat in a delectable red wine sauce paired with rice and green beans. The attendant had poured a matching Cabernet Sauvignon. Her intent had been to refuse the beverage, but she didn't have the heart to tell him no since he seemed so enthralled with her. She was half way through her meal when she heard the swishing of a satin dress entering the room. Looking up, she saw a beautiful, chocolate skinned woman sashay in like she was entering a ball.

Evangeline quickly took note. She wore bright royal blue dress, cut daringly low in the bodice but in line with the fashion. Her hair was pulled up in a plumage of curls, and her face was painted up distracting from her natural beauty. With all these clues, Evangeline was clear on what she was. The bigger question was who she was? Apparently, she wondered the same thing because she stared daggers at Evangeline as if she had been intruded on by a criminal.

"Jacques!" she shrilled.

Evangeline could hear the man scurrying from somewhere toward the back of the house. He practically slid into the room from the force.

"Madeline, you're home." He greeted straightening his jacket and errant strand of hair. "Was your trip enjoyable?"

"Who is this?" she demanded pointing a colored nail toward Evangeline and totally ignoring his query.

Jacques glanced over at the woman at the table and gulped. Madeline was a bit of a shrew and liked to command Aristotle 's castle as if she were the lady of the home. Truth be told, her home was in the country with her mother, but she refused to go there for she knew that her Mama would box her ears proper to quell her insolence. Here she was free to run wild as long as Aristotle cleaned up her messes. Clearing his throat, he turned back to Madeline.

"Allow me to introduce, Madame Montiero. She will be staying with us for some time."

"Whatever for?" she continued paying the woman in question no mind.

"That is business between two grown people and not a twit such as yourself."

Both stared wide eyed at Evangeline; Jacques with surprise and Madeline with heated scorn.

"Did this slut just call me a twit?"

"If I'm the slut, then you're wearing my costume."

Jacques scoffed beneath his hand as Madeline choked on the rejoinder. "Mademoiselle, you had a long ride and must be tired. Cheri will prepare you a bath and send you a meal upstairs."

Madeline strutted toward Evangeline with her hands propped on her hips. "When Aristotle gets home, we'll see how long you stay. I can have you bounced from here like that."

"You must hold no power or else you'd have me bounced at once. And I'm sure Aristotle at this moment would like nothing more than to be through with me, but I am here under obligation and not by choice. But neither do I have to tolerate the rantings of a spoiled child."

"A child! I am more woman than you'll ever be."

Evangeline stared her straight on unwavering. "The definition you use for a woman is simply the gender you inherited and the organ your bed mates repeatedly gnash as for the poise and grace and civility that truly engender our sex, you are sorely lacking."

Madeline was struck. Her mouth hung open. Her cheeks were inflamed with rage and shame. She had no comeback, nothing. Even Jacques felt the sting from the doors. No one had dared put Madeline in her place before. Only one other did and he paid the ultimate price. Furious, the dark beauty swooped from the room.

"Who was that girl?" Evangeline demanded, insulted at having endured her presence for those mere moments.

"Aristotle's sister."

Evangeline stared up at the valet in surprise. She had assumed the trollop had been a lover of Aristotle's wanting to assert her authority. Now, she'd gone in done it. Evangeline had been looking for a mere outlet for her earlier pique, but she'd gone and chosen the wrong target. Ah well, there was nothing she could do about it now. What's done is done, she thought. She'll now have two strikes against her with Aristotle. At least she was assured she wouldn't have to deal with him tonight.