Read The Hidden Mistress - An Erotica and Romance Paranormal/Historical Novelette for Free Online Page B

to flatter me.” The baroness’s frown was sceptical but playful. “Still, I am thankful for your kind words.”
    “Flatter?” Marie asked. “I am merely being honest.” She would not look at the soap that ran down the baroness’s shoulder. She would not.
    “Then join me,” the baroness said.
    “Excuse me?” Marie felt her eyebrows climb.
    “Undress and enter.” The baroness pulled back to show Marie that there was enough space in the tub for both of them. There was indeed room, but if Marie sat opposite the baroness, their legs would inevitably touch. As much as Marie’s self-control was good, being so close to the baroness’s would make her say – or do – something inappropriate. Something very inappropriate. Staring was one thing; throwing oneself at other people was another.
    Marie rose to say that sharing a bath would be to intrude on the baroness’s privacy, but even as she was opening her mouth to speak, she was reaching behind her back to undo her bodice. Uninterested in Marie’s prudence, her body had made up its mind. She undid the strings while her face burned; she could feel the baroness’s eyes on her.
    Once she had undressed and folded away her clothes on the sideboard, Marie looked again at the baroness. The baroness returned her look with a smile and motioned at the tub again. Cautiously, Marie stepped in and lowered herself down. It felt like entering a cage full of half-tame lions.
    The water was hot enough to make Marie hiss through her teeth, which for some reason made the baroness laugh lightly. A myriad of scents from the luxurious soaps filled her head. Marie leaned back, swallowed, and looked up. In the other end of the suddenly-not-so-large bathtub sat a naked baroness. Had the water not been so scorching, she would have thought she was dreaming.
    “Thank you,” Marie said, unsure what the appropriate etiquette was in situations like this. She did not often run armed and frantic into other women’s bathrooms only to end up in their bathtubs.
    “My pleasure.” The baroness drank from her glass again, but her eyes never left Marie. “One does often have the privilege of the company of women like you.”
    Marie’s eyes widened. “Don’t say that,” she stuttered. “Please, my lady. I have embarrassed myself in front you. I don’t deserve any compliments.”
    “Nonsense.” With a lazy flick of her finger, the baroness parted a large bubble that floated between them. “Next to you, even Sophie pales.” She reached out and took down a tall bottle with a golden liquid inside. “Tell me,” she said and looked at the bottle, “are you interested in travels?”
    “ Oui, of course.” Struggling to keep her eyes away from the baroness’s breasts, Marie nodded and smiled in mild panic. The baroness had pulled back so that her nipples were visible just above the surface. Only firm concentration kept Marie’s face straight. “I hope to see the world,” Marie explained. “Next year, I hope to journey to the Americas.”
    “I see.” The baroness held the bottle between two long fingers. “Have you heard of a country called Senegal ?”
    Marie thought. “Africa?” she asked.
    “Indeed.” The baroness twisted the cork off the bottle and threw it aside. “In some regions, the women have a long tradition of washing each other’s hair.”
    “Have you been there?” Marie asked, intrigued. She wondered what was in the bottle; it looked like oil.
    “A long time ago,” the baroness said. “Now,” she continued, “I have a request.”
    “Anything,” Marie said quickly.
    The baroness paused while she studied Marie with a curious expression. Marie hesitated; there was humour in the baroness’s eyes, but also a shadow of something sterner and harder.
    “I would like to wash your hair,” the baroness said. “Not that it needs to be washed, but as a token of my forgiveness.”
    Marie, who had been prepared to be slapped, whipped and deported, hardly believed her