Page 17 of Moonlit Thorns

For the first time, I allow my gaze to drop below the front of his waist and suck in a breath. His hard, thick, rigid length is pointed in the direction of his hip and straining against the fabric.

“There are always consequences, Miss Boudreaux. I learned that early in life. It’s time you did too.”

I sputter for a moment, nothing intelligible coming out of my mouth.

“The next time you look at me like that, I might take you up on your offer. Remember that.” He sets the glass on the small table beside the lounger. “Now get back to work.”

I don’t wait for him to say anything else. I turn around and rush back inside the house, unsure what I’m more embarrassed about—the fact that he noticed what I was thinking or that I had those thoughts for a man like Asher Voss in the first place.

Chapter

Eight

ANABELLE

The next few days are more of the same. First thing in the morning, I bring Mr. Voss his disgusting green drink, and he sends me back at least two times to remake it.

I manage to somehow keep my temper in check—maybe because I know what to expect from him now. But on Friday morning, Mrs. Potter tells me that I’ll be serving breakfast to the Voss brothers in the dining room.

My eyes widen, and I still at her words.

“C’mon now, don’t be frightened. Their bark is worse than their bite for the most part.”

It doesn’t escape me the way a few of the kitchen staff look at her with disbelief when she says that.

It’s been almost a month since I got here, and I have yet to see any of the Voss brothers other than Asher. He’s enough to deal with. I can’t imagine being relegated to the abuse of four of them at once.

Mrs. Potter instructs me how to properly serve everyone and in which order everything should come out. She tells me where to place what on the table based on what each of the men prefers for breakfast. Then she explains where I’m to stand in the room in case they need anything, and she makes it clear that I am not to react to anything I see or hear. I am to be invisible.

When I enter the dining room to put out the coffee, cream, and sugar, the room is empty of people. I’m thankful, since it allows me to get the lay of the land without their intimidating presences.

The dining room, like all the rest in this house, is huge and has a large, ornate crystal chandelier hanging over the middle of the dark wood table. Each side must have eight or ten chairs. The walls are painted a deep royal blue that almost looks black depending on where the dim light hits it. Paintings in intricate gold frames dot the walls, and a large mirror hangs over the huge fireplace.

I set the coffee service on the end of the table closest to the oversized picture of a pretty woman with long, flowing dark hair and deep blue eyes, as Mrs. Potter told me to.

When I return with the eggs and scones, there are two men there seated side by side. I’ve seen one in town before, so I know that the one with his dark hair cut shorter on the sides and slicked back on top is Obsidian Voss.

“Morning.” I stand on the opposite side of the table and place the items in front of them.

The one I’m not sure about looks up at me with malice, and my heart stutters. “You must be Ash’s new plaything.”

My eyes widen. I’m not sure what to say to that, but I’m saved from having to respond as I straighten up because Obsidian speaks.

“You’ll have to forgive my brother. He’s not used to having new people at Midnight Manor. I’m Sid, the best-looking Voss brother, which you’re probably figuring out now, and this is Kol.”

“Stop flirting with the help.” Asher’s voice startles me.

“You’re frightening the poor girl, Ash. Ease up,” Sid, as I now know him, says.

I feel Asher’s presence behind me, and I’m afraid of what I’ll find, but I raise my chin and turn around. It’s been hard to look at him without thinking about the size of his dick since that day I saw the magnificent outline in his Speedo.

Our eyes meet and neither of us says a word for a moment, until his expression becomes more lethal. “You’re standing in front of my seat.”

Embarrassment floods me like water rushing past a broken dam, and my cheeks heat. Here I thought we were locked in some power play when really the man wanted to sit and eat his breakfast. “Oh.”

I sidestep and hurry from the dining room to bring in the rest of breakfast. For the most part, the three brothers ignore me as I come in and out, continuing with their conversation. Once I’ve brought everything in, I go stand in the spot where Mrs. Potter said I should.

Things are going well, and after a couple of minutes, I don’t find it so difficult to stand with my hands behind my back, facing forward and pretending I don’t even exist. I prefer it to the alternative of being the center of attention in this room.

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