Sudden Pleasures

Chapter 4

"Why, you're beautiful," Angelina Mulcahy said by W way of greeting to Ashley. She took the younger woman's hands in hers and, leaning forward, kissed her on both cheeks. "Welcome to my home, cara . I hope we are, despite the unusual circumstances of this impending marriage, going to be friends."

"I don't think I've ever been greeted so sweetly, Mrs. Mulcahy. Thank you for having me," Ashley replied as her future mother-in-law slipped her arm through hers and led her into the living room of the gracious house.

"You must call me Lina, cara . All my friends do," Angelina Mulcahy said. She was pleased. Very pleased indeed. Ashley was tall and healthy-looking. She had a wide span between her hips, which was good for childbearing. Yes. Ray had done well, even if this girl was an independent American. And she had never particularly cared for the blondes that her only son said he preferred. This girl had beautiful coloring. She was like a Tintoretto Madonna. And she appeared to have manners, for all she had been raised by an old man and his servants. She sat Ashley on the settee. "Now, you will tell me all about yourself," Angelina said. "You had a brother?"

"Yes, Ben. He died in Desert Storm," Ashley answered.

Angelina crossed herself piously. "God rest him, and bless him for the service he rendered our country," she murmured.

The doorbell rang, and Ryan went to let his youngest sister in. "Hey, babe," he greeted her. "Ash is getting the third degree right now from Ma."

Frankie Mulcahy O'Connor stood for a minute in the entry between the living room and the hall. "God, she's beautiful, Ryan. You didn't say she was beautiful."

"First thing Ma said to her," he told his sister. "I think I was too busy getting past the she-isn't-a-blonde stage."

"You can be such a jerk sometimes," Frankie told him. Then, giving him a friendly shove, she walked into the living room. "Hi, Ma. Hi, Ashley. I'm Frankie, the good sister." She grinned mischievously.

"So I've heard," Ashley said with an answering grin. Then she hugged Frankie.

Angelina nodded her approval. A warm heart. This girl had a warm heart.

"Anyone want an aperitif?" Ryan asked. It tickled him the way his mother and his sister had taken immediately to Ashley. But then, he had taken to her too.

At the dinner table Angelina watched as Ashley devoured her cooking. She almost wanted to shout with joy, and when Ashley returned for a second helping of tiramisu she almost cried. "Do you cook?" she asked her guest.

"Not really. I've never had to," Ashley admitted. "Mrs. Byrnes does the cooking at Kimbrough Hall. I'm such a workaholic. But I would love your recipe for the chicken and artichokes. Mrs. B. is always looking for new dishes to make."

"I will write it out for you," Angelina said. "But then one day I will come and teach you how to make it. Work is good, but you should also know how to cook a few dishes. What if your Mrs. Byrnes became ill?"

"She'd do what we all do, Ma," Frankie said. "She'd order out."

"Not in Egret Pointe." Ashley laughed. "We have one pizzeria, and he just does pizza and heroes. But we do have some nice restaurants."

The evening continued in pleasant fashion. Ashley and Frankie began to talk about decorating the master suite in the house.

"I've got to run it by my boss," Frankie said apologetically. "She's a real Tartar about any of her decorators doing private work. She's scared one of them might walk off with her client list. I hope you don't mind."

"Evelyn Claire was a friend of my mother's," Ashley replied. "They were in school together. St. Hilary's. Tell her I'm Rosemary Leigh Kimbrough's daughter."

"A Catholic school?" Angelina put in.

"No. Anglican nuns," Ashley replied.

"Your children…?" Angelina said.

"I don't think Ryan and I have gotten that far yet, Lina," Ashley said candidly.

Later, as she and Ryan drove back to Egret Pointe, he apologized to her. "I haven't told Ma yet that the marriage is just a temporary one. She thinks it's going to be like her and my dad: two people marrying for practical reasons and making a go of it."

"Don't tell her," Ashley said. "It would upset her, and I don't want to do that."

"She liked you."

"I liked her, and I really like your sister Frankie. She and I are going to be good friends no matter what," Ashley told him. "You're staying the rest of the weekend, aren't you?" she asked as they pulled off the parkway. "I want to discuss several things with you. The wedding. Our bedroom. I want to do announcements to be sent out afterward. Personally, I like the old-fashioned black script on white or cream paper, but I'd like your opinion also. You've got a stake in this too. And I'll need a list of people you want to receive the announcement. I'd like to get the busywork out of the way so we can relax over the next few weeks, if that's okay with you."

"That's fine," he agreed. "We'll start in the morning." He pulled up in front of the hall.

The portico was lit, but Ashley had told Byrnes to go to bed because they would be late, and she didn't want her butler waiting up. They let themselves in and walked upstairs to their separate bedrooms. In the dim upstairs hall Ryan pulled her into his arms and began to kiss her. She slid her arms about his neck and ran her tongue across his lips. He followed suit.

"You've got the sexiest mouth," he told her. "Like that actress with the same name as my mother."

"Angelina Jolie," she said.

"Yeah, that's her." His hand began to fondle one of her breasts.

"Oh, don't," she said. "If we get started I don't know what will happen, Ryan."

"I miss the girls," he said softly in her ear. "You haven't let them come out to play since that night on the porch."

Ashley swallowed hard. His hands were big and gentle. She found she liked it very much when he touched her breasts. They were already growing firm, her nipples hardening, and she was absolutely getting wet between her thighs.

"I want to get naked with you," he whispered.

"No," she told him, but she didn't yet pull away from his hand.

"I took you to meet my mother and favorite sister. The prenups will be ready to be signed next week. I'm not gay, and I have no plans to go to Vegas or anywhere else in the near future." The hand fondling her breast slipped down, under her skirt, and up to caress the soft flesh of her thigh. "You're wet," he said. "You want this as much as I do."

Ashley whimpered. He wasn't telling her anything she didn't already know, but even if this was a marriage of convenience, she was going to do it right this time. Gathering every bit of her strength, she pulled away from him, her hand reaching for the doorknob. "On our wedding night, and not a minute before," she told him as she turned and stepped into her room, shutting the door behind her firmly, clicking the lock.

He was so hard he thought it would probably break off if he touched it. Damn! He really wanted her! Wanted to bury himself so deep he could touch her womb. What would she be like? he wondered. Would she cry out with her climax? Would she claw him? Or was she one of those silent types who just lay there? No. He didn't think she would be silent. Ryan rubbed his penis trying to ease the ache. That sexy mouth of hers could have tempered his discomfort. Would she do that for him? He sure wanted to go down on her. Wanted to peel back her labia, lick her clit, and then suck it until she was screaming with her climax. And she would scream. He entered his own bedroom.

In the morning it was as if the incident had never occurred. They sat at the table in the breakfast room and discussed the few guests who would come to the wedding. Ashley had decided to have the local calligrapher do the invitations on pale cream paper. The gentleman had been sworn to secrecy. They would do engraved announcements on cream as well, with elegant black script. The wording would be traditional, and there would be a separate card indicating their residence. The announcement cards were small.

Ashley Cordelia Kimbrough

and

Ryan Finbar Mulcahy

Announce Their Marriage on

Saturday, the Twenty-fifth of August

Two Thousand and Seven

The separate enclosure cards read: At Home After September First, with their address.

"My sisters are really going to be pissed," Ryan said with a broad grin. "And when they find out Frankie was there… well, Bride will split a gut. There goes her new big house, which she doesn't need. Betta ain't going to get her Ferrari, and Dee's spoiled brats are going to need loans to finish college. Considering their grades, I'm not sure they'll get them. My nephews like to party. As for Katy and Mags, their husbands are going to have to pay for those around-the-world cruises on the QMII they've planned."

"That is truly mean-spirited," Ashley said. "Your older sisters can't be that bad."

"Yeah, they can. Wait till you meet them," he said. "Those five bitches had already lined up a buyer for R &R, Ash."

"Well, then, let's hold a party at the end of September to celebrate our first month's anniversary," Ashley suggested mischievously. "Just family, okay?"

"You are a glutton for punishment." He laughed.

"I have to meet the wicked sisters sometime," she pointed out.

"True," he said, "and by that time you should have that well-fucked look that women get in the first month of marriage, and they'll know it's for real," he said softly, reaching out to take her hand in his. He nibbled at her knuckles.

Their eyes met, and Ashley felt her heart turn over suddenly. What was that all about? She had known him just a few weeks. She blushed, and he grinned.

"I like it when you blush," he said.

"And you seem to have a knack for making me blush," she told him. Then she drew her hand from his. "Let's decide on the menu for the wedding dinner."

"Are you a cock tease?" he asked her suddenly.

"No! I don't think so. Why would you ask a thing like that?" she demanded.

"I touch you and you retreat," he complained. "And yet if I can manage to kiss you, you're on fire almost at once."

"This started out as strictly business. But now sex is entering the equation," Ashley said slowly. "You obviously like sex, and I sure do, and yes, we're going to be married, but I don't want to jinx it this time, even if love is not part of the picture. I don't know how to explain it any better."

"This is the damnedest thing," he told her. "No, love is not part of this, and business is the reason we're getting together, but I can't believe how hot I am for you, Ash."

"You're flattering, but I meant it when I said not until our wedding night," she told him firmly. "You're a very healthy, lusty guy."

"You feel the same way about me as I do about you, and yet you are so cool about it as long as I don't touch you. But all I have to do is look at you and I want to pull your dress over your head," he growled at her. "How can you be so sanguine?"

"It's just a matter of self-discipline, Ryan," Ashley told him. That and having the Channel, she thought, and forced back the grin that was threatening to break out on her face. "I really want to do it this way, Ryan, please."

"I want to do it every way." He groaned.

"Then we should have one hell of a wedding night," Ashley said mischievously.

"I will make certain you don't walk for a week," he promised her menacingly.

"Ohhh, you are a very bad boy!" she teased him wickedly, and she waggled an admonishing finger at him.

"Are you a very bad girl?" he asked provocatively.

"I think I can be, with the right partner," Ashley said. Then she caught his hand up and began sucking on his middle finger. "Are you the right partner, Ryan?" Her tongue swirled about the finger slowly, and then she sucked hard on it. This was fun, she thought. She had never had this kind of a playful relationship with either of her two fiancés. It had been far more cut-and-dried. They had refrained from sex until she had an engagement ring on her finger, and then they had somehow fallen into bed. And both men had gotten far more out of it than she ever had, but she had assumed that was life. Now she was learning that it wasn't. She had never had a lustful attraction to any man until Ryan.

He closed his brown eyes briefly as he enjoyed the tug of her lips on his finger, and considered those lips fastening about his cock. Damn! He was hard again. He pulled his finger away from her. "If we're not going to fuck," he said, "then stop being such a bloody tease, Ash. You don't want Byrnes coming in and finding you on your knees in front of me with my dick in your mouth. The poor fellow would faint dead away."

Looking across the table at him, she considered. They could do a little sucking and licking. In fact, it would be very nice, and it would take the edge off of their appetites.

No! Was she out of what passed for her mind? The sexual attraction between them was much too hot. It wouldn't end with a little sucking and licking. That would be the beginning, and she damned well knew it. "You're right; I wouldn't," she admitted. "Okay, so we have done just about everything. Now, what do we wear? After the last three times I don't think I'm in the mood for another full-blown ninety-one-gun salute satin-and-lace wedding gown. I'd really like to keep it simpler, unless you want to see me in a 'Here Comes the Bride' outfit."

"Where are we doing the ceremony?" he asked.

"Garden if its sunny, and if it isn't, the ballroom," Ashley answered him.

"What time?"

"Four thirty? Very traditional, and Wasp. Good luck to have the clock hands sweeping up, and not down," she said.

"I've got a pale gray pin-striped suit," Ryan told her.

"Who will we ask to be witnesses?" Ashley said. "I don't think we need to do the best man-maid of honor thing, do you?"

"I'll get Frankie to be my witness," Ryan replied. "You?"

"I'll ask Mrs. B. I'm asking Byrnes to give me away," she told him. "They're really my only family, so to speak."

"What's your favorite color?" he asked her.

"I guess any shade of pink or lavender," she answered. "Why?"

"It's a surprise," he told her, grinning. "Okay. We've got invitations, and the announcements, the dinner menu, where, when, and who will sign the registry, and clothes. Have we forgotten anything?"

"Wedding gown, or no?" she said. "You never said which you would prefer."

"I think you should be a bride," he told her. "But it doesn't have to be a Princess Di kind of gown. Something simple, but something that when you look back at the pictures of your first wedding you won't regret what you wore and cringe. They say the first time is always special."

"That's sweet, Ryan," Ashley said. "And thoughtful too."

"I'm a sensitive guy," he said teasingly, and then he rubbed his crotch suggestively, leering at her with a grin.

"You need a cold shower, buddy," she said.

"I'll settle for a swim," he responded.

"Good idea! Go change, and I'll meet you at the pool-house. I want to take this menu to Mrs. B. first so she can begin considering the wedding dinner." Getting up, she hurried off toward the kitchens while he got up and went out to the poolhouse, where his bathing suits now permanently resided.

As he waited for her, swimming slow laps back and forth in the pool, he decided he was going to like this lifestyle. Ashley had told him that the pool was enclosed each winter, and heated so they could swim then. Yep, he was going to like it all. It was going to be getting unused to it in two years that would be hard. He climbed out of the pool and lay down on a chaise to get some sun.

She watched him from the poolhouse. Jesus, he was gorgeous! And that tight little European bathing suit he was wearing left absolutely nothing to the imagination. He had a fabulous butt, and he wasn't a guy who would ever need to stuff a sock in his shorts. From the size of his discreet wad he had to be as big as her two lovers on the Channel. Ashley pulled on the black one-piece suit, grabbed a towel, and stepped outside.

"How's the water?" she asked casually as she approached him.

"Good," he said, trying not to be too obvious as he assessed her. What a body she had! Those beautiful breasts of hers were very visible in that deceptively modest suit she was wearing. And her ass! Mamma mia! Round and tight. He fought himself not to reach out and grab it. She was not a petite girl, but there wasn't an ounce of flab on her, and she was in perfect proportion. Now he was really looking forward to seeing her naked. And he had another couple of weeks to go. He wasn't certain he was going to make it.

She knew he was looking her over despite the fan of dark eyelashes brushing his tanned cheek. She bent to carefully lay her towel on the empty chaise, giving him a nice long look at her tits. She slowly rubbed sunscreen on one leg, and then the other. On one arm, and then the other. Then she did her face and chest. "Do my back and shoulders, will you?" she asked innocently, handing him the tube. She sat on the edge of his chaise with her back to him.

He smoothed on the sunscreen with long, leisurely strokes of his palm, rubbing her flesh with a sensuous motion until it tingled. Her back was long and flawless. She had good skin. "I think I've got you covered," he finally said.

"Thanks," Ashley replied, standing, and then walking into the pool. "Nice," she said when she was waist deep.

He joined her, and they swam together for several minutes, back and forth, forth and back. She was a good swimmer, and so was he. "Ever swim naked in here?" he asked her with a mischievous grin.

"Sometimes," she allowed. "At night, when I know no one is about and can see me. And no, I am not going to swim naked now, and neither are you," Ashley told him firmly. "This is ridiculous, Ryan. We seem to have a case of raging hormones, and we just have to get past it. We aren't kids, damn it!"

"Then why do I feel like an eighteen-year-old around you?" he wanted to know.

"You're horny! You admitted yourself that you haven't had a woman in a while. And now that Dr. Sam has checked us both for STDs you'd better not! You are celibate until August twenty-fifth, and that's that!" Ashley told him. "If I can do it, you can do it. Don't be such a big baby, Ryan. I can't believe you can't stay out of trouble until then." She climbed out of the pool and stretched out on the chaise. She felt a twinge of guilt after that righteous little lecture she had just given him. Too bad he didn't have the Channel. She had really been getting her money's worth out of it lately, and it was actually the only way she had been able to resist his blandishments.

Quinn and Rurik were good lovers, but now that she had met Ryan Mulcahy she felt like a starving woman in front of a candy counter. She wanted to know what it would feel like to lie naked against his naked body. She wanted to feel his weight on her, his cock plundering her vagina, his mouth and his tongue on her, driving her wild with longing. Just thinking about it made her antsy, even though she had the Channel. If he felt the same way-and he obviously did-the waiting must be agony, but wait they would.

It wasn't easy, but Ryan's being in the city all week helped them both. And there was the Channel. Ashley was beginning to get a little bored with her two fantasies. Still, she didn't want to delete them. She had spent a lot of time perfecting them. Instead she decided to add a new element to the one with Quinn. It was time to introduce the lady Cordelia's husband, Tribune Maximillian Alerio Patronius, into the picture. She smiled. Yes, it was time the tribune came home from campaign. Stretching out on her bed, she pressed the button that slid the wall back to reveal her television, and then she pushed A.

The villa was bustling with activity as the slaves prepared for their master's homecoming from northern Gaul. The lady of the house was stretched out as a slave massaged her body with a lily-scented cream. Quinn crept into the chamber and waited for her to recognize that he was there. Finally she cast a glance his way.

"My husband will be home shortly. You will confine yourself to your quarters until he has departed again. You know how he hates to see you and that lovely big cock of yours. Even though he gave you to me so I would behave while he is away, he does not wish to be reminded that you are foraging between my legs while he is gone. If he should catch so much as a glimpse of you, I will punish you severely, Quinn. I will send a slave girl to look after you. But you may not fuck her. Your cock is for me alone. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, mistress," Quinn answered her, his eyes lowered respectfully.

"Then get you gone," she told him, and turned back to the masseuse. "The ball of your thumb is too rough, Iris. Be certain to have it sanded when you massage me again."

"Yes, mistress," the slave woman answered, grateful not to have been hit.

There was the sound of trumpets amid the thunder of horses' hooves from outside the villa, announcing the arrival of someone of importance.

"The master is home!" she heard the slaves crying out.

Ashley smiled. Yes, this would add a soupcon of novelty to her fantasy. She arose from the massage table as her women scurried about her. Her long hair was scented with oil of lilies to match the fragrance arising from her naked body. A slave dropped a woven necklace of delicate white freesia about her neck, and handed her a second necklace. Then without a word the slaves ran from the chamber, and a moment later the twin doors into that chamber were opened, and her husband strode in. He had already been divested of his armor and garments. The tribune Maximillian Alerio Patronius looked exactly like Ryan Finbar Mulcahy, and he was as naked as she was. Ashley stepped forward and dropped the floral necklace over his head.

"Welcome home, my lord," she said in a husky voice. She hadn't thought he would look like Ryan, but then, she had been thinking about Ryan a great deal lately.

Reaching out, he swept her into his arms and kissed her deeply. "I have missed you, lady. The women in Gaul stink of animal fat and sweat."

"But you fucked them anyway." She laughed up at him. "Didn't you?"

"After I had them washed twice over, aye! Was your sex slave satisfactory?" he asked her. "Did he keep you entertained enough that you retained your chastity, and did not bring any scandal on my house, my insatiable Cordelia?"

"He is perfect, my lord. Not only does he fuck reasonably well, although nowhere near as well as you do, he has great stamina and is able to take a good whipping."

The tribune laughed. "I am happy to learn my gift was a success, lady."

"You are the perfect husband, Max," Ashley told him. "You are always thinking about me, and your gifts are delightful. I am the happiest woman in Rome. Now tell me," she said as she pressed up again him, "why are you home? I did not expect you for another few months."

"Caesar recalled me. He wished to replace me with one of his sycophants," the tribune replied. "Actually, if the gossip is correct Caesar is fucking the man's wife, and the fool tried to keep her too close. It was a simple matter to send the husband off to northern Gaul so Caesar might have easy access to his favored mistress. I can but hope the fellow doesn't find himself dead." He chuckled. "But now, my dear wife, it is time for you to welcome me home properly. On your knees like a good wife, Cordelia, and suck my cock. If you do it nicely I will fuck you. If you displease me, then I shall fuck one of your pretty slave girls. We have the afternoon, but then we are expected at the palace tonight for a banquet, which will certainly turn into a delightful orgy."

Ashley fell to her knees and lifted the long peg of flesh. She gazed at it carefully, as if deciding just what she was going to do. Then, holding it gently by its head, she licked it first up one side, and then back down the other. "Ummm," she murmured. "You taste of leather, Max." She took his penis into her mouth and began to suck on him. The long fingers of his big hand dug into her scalp, and he kneaded her head as she sucked at first with deep, strong pulls of her mouth. She stopped suddenly, and her tongue began to encircle the sensitive head of his organ. Then she nipped at it delicately with her teeth.

He growled. "Easy, my goddess," he warned her.

She began to suck him again. He grew thick and hard in her warm mouth, and he lengthened so that the tip of his penis was pushing just down her throat. She moaned, thinking how she loved the taste of him. Her hands slipped around him to fondle his tight buttocks. Her fingers dug into his flesh. She raised her eyes slightly to him, silently asking what he would have of her. Wordlessly he gave the command, and Ashley sucked harder and harder upon his cock until she felt him quiver, and then his sperm burst forth. She almost choked as she swallowed it down, so copious was the flow, but she continued to draw every last drop from him until he bade her cease.

"Jupiter and Mars, Cordelia, no one can suck me off like you can!" the tribune praised his wife. "Do you suck the slave?"

"My lord!" She was indignant. "That you could even ask me such a thing."

"You're a beautiful liar," he told her, laughing as he pulled her up into his arms. "You have an appetite for sex, which is why I bought the fellow for you. I'm glad he isn't boring you." He led her over to her large bed. "Now," he said as they lay down together, "you have been a very good girl, and should be rewarded appropriately. I have a taste for your juicy cunt, Cordelia. Open yourself to me," the tribune said, and he positioned her to suit his purposes. Then his head slid between her shapely legs.

He slowly licked the tender flesh of her plump thighs. His teeth grazed her delicate skin, nipping just enough to pinch. She squealed softly. His tongue ran up and down her slit several times. Then, pulling one of her nether lips apart, he licked at the inside of it, then probed beyond to find her clitoris. He slowly licked at the sensitive little organ, playing with it, teasing it with the velvet tip of his tongue. His mouth closed over it, and he sucked hard on it.

Ashley cried out as a small clitoral orgasm overcame her. "Ohh, Max!" she cried to him. "No one does that to me as well as you do." Her hand stroked his dark hair. "I know you need a moment to recover, but I beg you to put your fingers in me. I am burning with my desire, and it will but whet my appetites further," she told him.

He raised himself up and kissed her firmly. She could taste herself on his lips. Then he pushed two fingers into her vagina. Hard. "It isn't as good as I will be," he said. The fingers frigged her slowly at first, and then with increasing rapidity, but she found she could not come, and she whimpered with her frustration. He laughed. "I know, my goddess. Only a thick, long cock will do for you, and you shall have it." He swung quickly over her. "Now!" And with a single fierce thrust he filled her vagina.

Ashley screamed with delight, and wrapped her legs about her husband. "Fuck me, Max!" she begged him. "Fuck me hard, and make me come!"

He obliged her, and they finally collapsed as they came together. And when he had caught his breath he said, "No more for now, my goddess. Tonight when we return from the palace we will enjoy each other. But for now we must prepare to be the emperor's guests."

She called for their slaves, and she and Max were bathed and dressed. Max was attired in a purple silk toga lined in gold, to indicate his military victories. On his feet were slipped a pair of calceus , fine leather sandals painted gold and studded with amethysts. His dark hair had been cut once he had come from his bath. It was short, with several tiny stiff curls on his forehead and at the nape of his neck. His only jewelry was a gold signet ring he used for sealing correspondence.

The tribune's wife was garbed in a sheer violet silk tunic shot through with gold threads. Her body glowed through the fabric. It was sleeveless, and the draped neckline was low. She carried a matching shawl. Her hair was fashioned into a coil at the nape of her neck. Her leather sandals were decorated with gold leaf and pearls. The long, ornate earrings hanging from her ears were gold and pearls.

They were carried through the streets of the city in a large litter to join the other patrician guests in a banquet at the emperor's palace. Maximillian Alerio Patronius and his wife were shown to couches quite near the emperor. The ruler gazed down at them through a ruby set in gold, and acknowledged their presence with a wave of his hand. Around them servants brought food and refilled wine cups, music played, entertainers entertained. The noise was bearable.

"I have taken a new herb that is supposed to extend my stamina for sex," the emperor announced at one point. He pointed to the young wife of a senator. "I would fuck her," he said.

The senator pushed his blushing wife from their couch and sent her immediately to the emperor, who proceeded to use her publicly. When he had finished his penis was still hard, and he was yet unsatisfied. He pointed to the wife of another senator, and proceeded to lustily fuck her until the woman fainted with multiple orgasms.

"She was better than the first," the emperor said dryly, "but not good enough." He scanned the great banquet room again, and his eye fell upon the wife of Maximillian Alerio Patronius. The lady Cordelia smiled at him.

"Tribune," the emperor said, "is your wife pleasurable in your bed?"

"She is indeed, Caesar," Max replied.

"I would try her," the emperor said.

"Go to him, Cordelia," the tribune told his wife.

Ashley got up, and obediently went to the emperor.

"Remove your garment," the emperor commanded. He had not asked any of the others to do that.

Ashley unfastened her tunic and let it drop to her feet.

The vast banquet hall was so silent you could have heard a drop of wine fall.

"You must make me come," the emperor told her. "If you do not I will whip you." He lay back upon his couch in a half-seated position, and pulled up his toga to reveal his penis. It was a very long penis, but not particularly thick, and it was thrusting straight up. "You may mount me," he told her.

"Not until you have prepared me properly, my lord," Ashley told him, and then, going around the couch to his head, she straddled him, pressing her mons down on his face. "Lick, Caesar, and make me wet. When you do I will give you the finest ride you have ever had. And if I do not you may indeed whip me."

He yanked her nether lips apart and licked her furiously. He found her clit, and in very little time she was slick with her juices. Pushing her back he said, "Now mount me, you brazen bitch! And I will probably whip you afterward to punish you for your boldness. And then I will fuck your ass as well!"

She mounted him, slowly, slowly sliding down his slender hard penis until she had absorbed it all. She began to ride him, gently at first, and then more quickly. Reaching up, the emperor grabbed her breasts and squeezed hard. She moaned as he pinched her nipples and then leaned forward to bite them. But suddenly Caesar began to smile, and she felt him quivering within her vagina. She rode him harder, and he climaxed with a roar of pure satisfaction. The banquet chamber erupted with cheers and clapping as Ashley fell forward.

Immediately slaves leaped forward to pull her off the emperor. They held her upright, for she could not stand right away. The emperor was fed wine, and sweetmeats were pushed into his mouth. His genitals were gently bathed. Slowly he regained his strength and equilibrium, and when he had, he called for a leather tawse and commanded that his most recent partner be bound between two marble pillars. Then he stood up and began to lay the strap across her plump buttocks as a young slave girl knelt between his legs and sucked his cock back to a state of readiness. When it was ready, and Ashley's bottom was pink and warm, she was released, brought to her knees, then forced to stretch forward so that the emperor might mount her from behind.

She felt a thick oil being rubbed on and around her anus. She squealed as Caesar pushed slowly into her rear channel. He whispered all manner of lascivious things into her ear as he took her. Then, reaching forward, he found her clitoris and began to rub it. "Ohh, Caesar!" the tribune's wife cried. "Ohh, Caesar!" His fingers were having the desired result, and she was going to come. "Yes!" she screamed, knowing her obvious pleasure in his public performance would please him. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" And she climaxed, bucking wildly, as he came with a shout.

"I shall send your husband back to Gaul immediately," Caesar murmured as he helped her up. "You are the best fuck I have ever had, and I must have you again."

"I thank you, my lord emperor, for your praise, but Caesar can have any woman he desires. Poor Maximillian Alerio Patronius has only me. If you send my husband back to Gaul I would go with him," Ashley said.

The emperor nodded. He was not in the habit of being refused, but the woman had serviced him extremely well. She deserved to be rewarded, and sending her to Gaul with her husband would cost him nothing. "You will come to me one more time before I return your tribune to Gaul. And then you may go with him."

Gathering up her tunic, Ashley bowed. "As the emperor wishes." She backed away and returned to join her husband.

"You did well," Max said.

"He is returning you to Gaul," she told him.

"He wants you."

"I am going with you," she told him. "It is you I love, Max."

And then she heard the sharp ting of the Channel bell, and she awoke in her bed. Wow! Ashley thought. That was some wild night. But I've been more than sexually satisfied. Ryan must think I'm a saint, she thought. And she giggled. Where the hell did sex with Caesar come from? she wondered. I didn't intend to add any more men to the picture. Sometimes the Channel scared her. It was everything she wanted, but now and again something she had never considered seemed to pop up-like a Roman orgy and a sexually insatiable emperor. Maybe I ought to practice a little abstinence for a while. And what was she going to do with the Channel when she was married? Other married women had it. Hell! Probably all of its subscribers were women. And what if sex between she and Ryan didn't work out? Yeah, right. Like that was going to happen. But it was a temporary arrangement. Both of them had the right to be with people they loved.

Love. Everyone talked about love. But what exactly was love? Ben had thought he was in love for real just before he was shipped out. He had told her that he would probably ask Marianne to marry him when he got back. But he never came back. And Marianne had married someone else less than two years later. If you honestly loved someone, could you really do that? Could you love two men in a lifetime? Of course you could, she thought. She certainly had. Or had she really? What would have happened if she had married any one of the three? She probably would never have had sex with Carson if he had had the nerve to go through with their marriage. It would have ended in an annulment. And in disaster with Chandler, because there had to be more to love than just wild monkey sex. As for Derek, or whatever his real name was, he probably would have serviced her regularly as long as he got to spend her money. But that wasn't love.

This time she knew the wedding would come off. She was marrying to save her inheritance. Ryan was marrying to save his inheritance. They were crazily sexually attracted to each other. But love had nothing to do with it. It was all about money. And yet the lady Cordelia had told her tribune husband that she loved him. And he had looked just like Ryan Finbar Mulcahy. Subconsciously she had wanted him to look like Ryan. What else did she want subconsciously? It was starting to get very confusing, Ashley decided, and then she realized she had a headache. It was the kind she got maybe once or twice a year. Her temples began to pound and her stomach began to roll. She got up and stumbled to her bathroom, where she threw up. Thank goodness, Ashley thought. It always relieved the tension when she threw up, but she was not going to work today.

Ryan called her in midafternoon. "Are you all right? Nina said you were home sick today. What's the matter? Did you call Dr. Sam?" He sounded worried.

"I get a knockdown tension headache maybe twice a year," Ashley told him. "I think all the excitement and secrecy got to me. It's almost gone now."

"I've got to fly to London. I'll be in England for the next two weeks," he said.

"The wedding is in two weeks," she reminded him.

"I'll be back Thursday of that week, Ash. You and Frankie behave yourselves while I'm gone, okay? She says she's coming out to the house this week to start setting everything up in the master suite. Am I going to like it?"

Ashley smiled. "I think so," she said. "And if you don't we'll do it all over again," she told him.

He laughed. "Hey, babe, just because you and I are rich doesn't mean we should waste money. Just as long as Frankie hasn't done it up all Laura Ashley. I'm not much for flowers and butterflies."

"Oh, no!" Ashley gasped. "You don't like flowers and butterflies?"

He laughed again. "Nice try, but I'm not buying it, Ash."

She giggled. "It'll be very unisex," she assured him. "But remember, we're sharing, and it can't be all Ralph Lauren and leather, Ryan. What are you doing in England?"

"There are some house auctions I want to go to in London and out in some of the counties. Sometimes I buy; sometimes I just photograph details for the reproduction business. The newly rich want it authentic, even if they aren't quite certain what authentic is at first. They do learn," he said dryly. "And they expect value for their money. Our work isn't cheap, and we use the best materials. I think I may have found a new source for clock corners and drawer pulls up in York. They claim to have the original molds. I'll know when I see them. I can't just take anyone's word."

"When are you going?" Ashley wanted to know.

"Tonight," he said.

"Travel safe then," she said.

"Thanks. You take care now," he replied.

"I will. Thanks for calling."

"Yeah. Bye." And the phone clicked off.

Geez, Ashley thought. Could their good-byes have been any more impersonal? She lay back, but as she did she noticed that the pain had gone. But she knew she would have to relax for the rest of the day and evening. August was never the busiest month in the shop. But this week she had to go over the new catalog proofs. They would be waiting on her office computer for an okay. The printer would have to do a runoff this week if the catalog was going to be out on time. Then the pages needed to be bound and put in their envelopes for mailing at the end of September if they were going to get the Christmas orders out on time. She would have to do it tomorrow. Frankie was coming out on Wednesday.

She had seen Ryan's mother and youngest sister since that initial meeting several weeks ago. She had spoken at length with Frankie several times as they discussed what they were going to do in the master suite. Her sister-in-law-to-be arrived at nine thirty on a rainy morning, roaring up to the house in a sporty little red Miata. Byrnes was immediately outside with an umbrella to escort her into the house.

"Miss Ashley is waiting in the breakfast room," Byrnes said as he led her to it.

"Good morning," Ashley said, coming forward to greet her guest. They kissed. "How about some coffee or tea?" she asked.

"I don't suppose you have a cappuccino on you?" Frankie said.

"Byrnes, would you see to it, please?" Ashley said.

"You're kidding!" Frankie said as she sat down.

"We're very accommodating here at Kimbrough Hall." Ashley grinned.

"I'll say!" Her eye lit on a plate on the table.

"They were baked this morning," Ashley told her. "In your honor. Ryan told me how much you loved bialys."

"Can I live here?" Frankie said, smiling. "Please?"

Byrnes returned with a cappuccino and set it before the guest. Then he disappeared.

"Cappucino and a fresh-baked bialy," Frankie said. "I'm in heaven." She sipped, and then she took a nibble of her bialy. "Every bit as good as Rome!" she pronounced.

"You can tell Mrs. B. She'll be delighted," Ashley said.

"Ryan flew to England last night," Frankie said as she ate.

"I know. He called me to tell me." Ashley sipped her black tea. She always had black tea for breakfast the morning after a tension headache.

"Wow! He's getting thoughtful. Even Ma doesn't always know when he's going off," Frankie said. "I called his cell last night to yak, and he was at Kennedy waiting to board. I had to remind him to give her a jingle. So, tell me. No cold feet yet?"

"I can't afford cold feet," Ashley admitted. "Your brother seems like a nice guy, and at least he isn't after my money. We'll do fine."

"Have you signed the prenups yet?"

"Yes, last week," Ashley said.

"Ryan hasn't told Ma yet that this is only a business arrangement," Frankie said. "She thinks it's like when she and Da got matched up by the priest, and married. She just got the invitation Saturday, and wondered why you're not getting married in a church."

"Ryan has to explain that to her," Ashley said. "Lina is his mother, not mine. It isn't my place, Frankie."

"I know. But he isn't going to explain it to her. He doesn't want to understand that she thinks this is a till-death-do-you-part marriage," Frankie said. "An arranged marriage she understands, but not a marriage of convenience with an out clause."

"What am I supposed to do then?" Ashley asked, slightly irritated. This was just the kind of situation her brother would have fostered. Why were men such jerks about stuff like this? But they were. Honesty really was the best policy.

"Look, I'm staying a few days. Could you invite Ma out to lunch the last day I'm here? And I'll help you talk to her when she asks, because she will."

Ashley considered. Lina Mulcahy had welcomed her warmly. If Ryan wasn't going to explain the situation to his mother, she really owed it to her future mother-in-law to tell her that the marriage between heR &Ryan, while legal, wouldn't last, because they were marrying just to save their asses. "I could send Byrnes in for her on Saturday, and then she can ride back with you later that day."

"Would you?" Frankie sounded relieved.

"Of course. I'll have Mrs. B. do us a nice lunch, give Lina a tour of the house and the gardens. And we'll talk. I like your mother, Frankie. But I don't want her laboring under any illusions about this marriage."

"Do you think you could fall in love with my brother?" Frankie asked.

Ashley felt her cheeks growing warm. What was it about these Mulcahys that they could make her blush?

"Aha!" Frankie exclaimed. "Maybe you could."

"I don't know," Ashley admitted. "I've never been very good at picking men, but I do know your brother and I seem to have a sexual attraction toward each other."

"Ohh," Frankie said softly. "Have you done the deed then? I've heard rumors from some of his old girlfriends that he's very good in bed."

"No, we haven't slept together," Ashley said. "Not that he hasn't tried, but I'm not really into sleeping around. Oh, I did with two of my fiancés, and look how that ended up. I'm taking no chances this time. Do you know what they call me around here? The Bad-luck Bride. Well, I can't get jinxed this time. Besides, in the agreement we signed, sex between us is optional."

Frankie laughed. "You put that in the prenup?" she said.

"No, we have a small binding legal agreement in addition about what we can and can't do or have, where we live and entertain, et cetera," Ashley explained. "We needed to iron out the details of the little stuff, since this marriage is only so we don't lose our inheritances. It's all legal, and no one can say we aren't married. Neither of the wills involved said we had to marry for love or any other reason. They just said we had to be married."

"But you think Ryan is hot?" Frankie persisted.

"Yeah," Ashley admitted. "He's hot, but that isn't a reason to fall in love with him. However, I like him, and maybe that's a start. And it was nice of him to call me yesterday and tell me he was going away. He had called the shop, and Nina told him I was home, and why. He asked how I was feeling, and he really sounded as if it mattered. Of course, he was probably worried I might die before the wedding, and then he'd really be in a whole lot of trouble."

"No, not Ryan. He's not like that," Frankie defended her brother. "If he sounded concerned, then he was concerned. He really is one of the good guys, which is why Ma and I are so pissed off at the others. My five older sisters are like a damned pack of vultures, and Ryan doesn't deserve that. Dad was always tight with money. It was his upbringing. It was Ryan who was always getting Dad to help them out, and he's the one who made Dad give us each such a generous bequest in his will. So for them to have gone out and found a buyer for R &R stinks. Especially since the guy is Ryan's least favorite person in the whole world."

"I don't understand your sisters," Ashley admitted. "Ben and I would have done anything for each other."

Frankie shrugged. "What can I say? I don't understand it either, except it seems that the more my sisters have, the more they want." She drank the last bit of cappuccino from her cup. "Well, we had better get going. I've got a crew all lined up to do the painting and papering. They'll be here tomorrow."

"Where are you housing them?" Ashley asked, concerned.

"The motel just off the parkway," Frankie answered. "The new bed will be delivered Friday, and the rest of the stuff will be coming via FedEx this week. By the time Ma arrives on Saturday the rooms will be done. Hey, look, the sun is coming out. It's going to be a nice day after all. Can we go swimming? Ryan says your pool is wonderful."

"Of course," Ashley told her. "But let's get our work done first."

"Gee," Frankie noted with a grin, "you really are a perfect match for my brother. I hope you do fall in love and make this a real marriage."

Ashley smiled. Maybe I do too, she thought silently.