Fleeting Feeling

Artemisia

I didn't want to know or hear about how my father had supposedly turned over the proverbial new leaf at the end of his life. He had twenty years to do it and hadn't mastered the art of showing any care for any length of time.

It was much too little, and far too late. He could have spent the next twenty years trying to make amends. It wouldn't have done one bit of good.

"How did he die?" The woman asked and I envisioned her in her office, behind her desk, her hair pushed back by the gaudy glasses she wore. The visual enough to interrupt the rage that bubbled to the surface. She wasn't to blame, and her face was filled with far more concern than anyone had afforded Artemisia in her entire lifetime.

I stalled, not wanting to answer. I hadn't had the opportunity to have an autopsy performed to ensure it was natural causes. It appeared to be cirrhosis of the liver due to his nightly sojourn into the booze, but given his proclivity for attracting the attention of those who wished him ill, it wouldn't have surprised me if someone had managed to get him after all these years.

Whatever conversation Nis had been having ended, and I saw him turn his attention to a curvy blonde with a trim figure. A pang of jealousy surged through me as I saw his eyes flicker as the woman approached. Clasping my hands together behind me, I managed to stop fidgeting like I was worried someone would stake a claim on what wasn't even my property.

"He didn't cause any accidents, did he? I know he liked to tip and nip as he'd say."

"Therapist Woman will Therapy," I replied, my ire rising at the thought of how I'd found him. "Peaceful, in his bed at least. Surrounded by pillows and blankets, rather than a thousand pounds of metal as I expected, but If you don't mind, our gathering here was for select guests; perhaps you should consider turning in early."

I watched as the woman's eyebrows snapped together as if she were annoyed at being told to leave in not so many words.

"I do, in fact, mind. Given this is a public place." The woman replied coolly. "No notices on the door, etc. You may not want me here, but I have an equal right to pay respect to the man I treated."

Making eye contact with two burly security men, I cast my eyes over the woman. The look was enough to alert them the woman had overstayed her welcome. "Perhaps you'll feel differently after you've had some more champagne in another room. Out of my sight."

With a flick of a finger, and the cast of a glance, the woman was silenced, and escorted from the room.

Nis slid next to me, having observed the whole scene. "Tough guest?"

"Funeral crasher. Daddy's nurse come therapist, or so she says. I'm still not convinced she wasn't providing him with the extended services. There's no way he'd have left her what he did without some kind of favour."

"I see, and you didn't want to wait until maybe I had a go at her?" Nis sipped a coke, his eyes blazing with innuendo.

"I'd suggest you book an appointment and see if you can have, as you say, a go at her. It would be best if we maintain our distance. I'm reading the room and suspicions seem high with you even daring to speak with me."

Nis drank in her scent as he stood next to her. She had a different look about her than from the hotel. There, she had seemed less tense. Where other women possessed beauty ethereal and unattainable, Artemisia's bordered on erotic. My mouth thinned with displeasure at the thought we wouldn't be able to meet one another as frequently as I hoped. I still hadn't explored every carnal nook and cranny with her. "Maybe you should change that. Work me into your retinue of men. That way I can look after you." His voice fell as his tone's velvet warmth conveyed exactly how Nis intended to care.

"I thought of it. Though, I'm not so desperate I need one-night stand distractions. It was an interesting diversion while it lasted. I'd like to keep this strictly professional."

"You can give me dictation and make me fill out paperwork, and we can make it multiple nights if you feel cheap?" He grinned, boyish dimples appearing in his cheeks. "I'll wear a suit."

"Your naked body doesn't constitute any sort of suit, Mr. Gyali."

"A blanket then, a warm covering..." He leaned closer, his finger trailing a mischievous path, his words invoking the memory of his body covering hers, their fingers interlaced as he plunged into her hotness.

He heard her swift intake of breath and knew she wasn't as unaffected as she let on.