Protege(22)
To be a true dominant male is to always put her needs before your own.
This was where she deserved to be. The other members would enlighten her as well, provide a picture of everything Fernweh could offer. While the chateau was the largest and oldest structure in the area, the centerfold that anchored the community they had built in the dated village, it had been a long time since it boasted the love that some of the smaller homes held.
He glanced to his right, where Collette slept soundly. It was probably best that she’d passed out for the last two hours of the journey. They were very particular about disclosing the exact location of Fernweh, and this made the confidentiality easier. For all she knew, they could be in the belly of a foreign city the way she slept.
He grinned and lifted a coiled curl from her cheek. He never saw so much unruly hair on a woman. There seemed no rhyme or reason to it. “We’re here, Collette.” When she didn’t move, he smirked. “Ms. Banks, it’s time to wake up.” He nudged her and she grumbled, shoving his touch away.
Really?
Very well. Climbing out of the car, he rounded the front and opened her door. On second thought, he went to the double entry of the chateau and tried the lock. Like magic, the old hardware twisted and gave way. He could smell the cleaning products Lea and the other girls must have used. He’d be sure to send a gift of appreciation for all their hard work.
Turning back to the car, he appraised his snoring beauty. She was a little thing, no more than five foot two, but she had an ass on her, the kind a guy could hold on to. She was curvy but compact, a whole lot of woman hiding behind couture garments and southern propriety. His mind dwelled on images of her thick hips wrapped around his waste. Thinking back to his early twenties and how eager he’d been to show off his virility, he rolled his eyes. Thirty-four and he was solving physics equations to guesstimate if he could carry a woman to his bed.
“Get a grip, Duval,” he mumbled, and moved to collect his sub.
Being that he required her to exercise daily, he’d have a fair chance of redefining his lost physique. The chateau had a noteworthy gym from what he recalled.
After he undid her seat belt, his arms slid beneath her body and he carefully pulled her from the car. She stirred but didn’t wake. Un-freaking-believable. He carried her over the threshold and was glad the curtains had been drawn back, letting some of the late-afternoon light inside. The sun would be setting soon and he’d need to go around hitting all the lights, one of the issues with such a vast, old house—there were never enough switches and they were all in weird places.
He carried her to the den, mentally promising he’d be getting in shape soon. Though he wasn’t carrying around any extra weight, his muscle mass was a joke compared to what it used to be. If Ezra caught sight of his body he’d never hear the end of it. He’d start tonight.
As he laid her on the sofa, he again brushed her curls from her face. “Collette.”
She stretched, then stilled, opening her eyes with a disoriented sort of panic banked in the depths. “I fell asleep.”
“I’d call it a coma, but yes. How do you feel?”
“Better.” She shifted without issue. Eleanor, their resident doctor, had told him she’d be fine in a few hours, but he was glad to see her well for himself. “What is this place?”
He turned, trying to see past his ugly memories and recognize the beauty that had once enchanted him to buy the old mansion. “This is Chateau Fernweh.”
“This is Fernweh?” Her eyes widened as she glanced around. Tall marble pillars marked the entry, leading to a grand spiraling staircase. “Is anyone else here?”
“No. This is my private home. The others live in the village. Fernweh—the village—is a gated community with a population just under one hundred, but we could fit much more than that. We covet our space at Fernweh.”
“I never imagined anything this . . . picturesque. It’s stunning.”
“It’s getting late, so you’ll have to wait until tomorrow for the full tour. I’ll show you around and introduce you to some of our neighbors. You already met Ezra.”
“Ezra lives here?”
“Yes, he and his wife, and several of our founding families. There are other Fernweh societies cropping up around the globe, one in Arizona, another in Canada, one in Scotland. This is the original and the oldest, though.”
“You do business with Scotland?”
He grinned. “We do business with everyone. Why do you think we ask so many questions about your preferred climate? Depending on your answers, Ms. Banks, you could wind up married to your soul mate all the way in Greece.”
She snorted, as if finding such a possibility laughable. She’d see, once she met some of the others and realized how far they traveled for the life they desired and the perfect partner.
“I highly doubt my life will land me anywhere exotic. I’m just a simple southern girl.”
He grunted. “Let’s get you out of these clothes and into something more appropriate.”
She looked around. “Where’s my bag?”
“You don’t need it.” He helped her stand. “When I said get you into something more appropriate, I meant my bed. Welcome to Fernweh, Ms. Banks. Your preparation starts now.” He pulled her hand and she pulled back, not moving an inch. “Collette?”