Nuria Farai
A Man's Black Heart
and Other Romantic and Thoughtful Short Stories
© 2020 Nuria Farai
Verlag & Druck: tredition GmbH, Halenreie 40-44, 22359 Hamburg
| ISBN | |
| Paperback: | 978-3-347-09196-2 |
| e-Book: | 978-3-347-09198-6 |
Das Werk, einschließlich seiner Teile, ist urheberrechtlich geschützt. Jede Verwertung ist ohne Zustimmung des Verlages und des Autors unzulässig. Dies gilt insbesondere für die elektronische oder sonstige Vervielfältigung, Übersetzung, Verbreitung und öffentliche Zugänglichmachung.
A Man’s Black Heart
Chapter 1
Caleb shuffled his feet uncomfortably. „Erm … there’s a lady outside, who wants to speak with you. With only you.“ Ryker sighed, but he was curious nonetheless. No lady ever asked to speak with him. The women who worked for him did not ask for audiences in his downtown office. Since a few months, he had an office in the business district of London, where his finer clientele could show up without fearing for their reputation. A lady could only mean a wife of one of his former salesmen was thinking imploring him to reinstate their husband as a partner, would soften his heart. As if his reputation allowed any room for interpretation. He would as soon show mercy in business as he would allow his heart to be captured by love to a woman. He was quite immune to romance, and … as he looked up, his heart skipped several beats. The young woman who entered was the most beautiful and fascinating creature he had ever beheld. She was tall, almost as tall as his sister, and slender, but she had rather large breasts and gently rounded, feminine hips. Her longs legs showed under her dress, as she elegantly walked up to him. He could not see her hair under her bonnet, but her flashing eyes were a splendid green, and her heart-shaped face displayed perfect skin, and a healthy glow. This woman had not known a day of hunger, he was sure. He longed to caress those rosy cheeks, and to touch her blooming rack. How would her lips part, when she was pleasured? He pulled himself together. „How can I help?“, he snapped, rougher than he had intended. His deep voice sounded like a drum in the almost empty room. She shuddered a little, and her slightly slanted eyes widened. She was now walking cautiously towards the desk. No doubt she knew about his reputation. „I am Miss Arnheim“, she almost whispered. „And I’m obviously Mr. Black“. „Wie passend“, she mumbled. He listened up. „Yes. I’m black.“ She shrank again. „I’m sorry. You understand German.“ „Enough to do business with your country men. What do you desire, Miss Arnheim?“ She straightened up, drawing back her shoulders, and he admired her small waist, and the attractive curve from her waist to her hips. They were exactly the width he preferred. „I’m a friend of Billy Knight’s son, Colin. I would like to ask you to reconsider the annulment of his father’s delivery contract. He needs this work, you know. You were his best client.“ „And so he sent you?“ He stared at her for a moment incredulously, then he smiled at her guts. „And how will you convince me, Miss?“ She colored. „Not in an indecent way, I assure you. My speciality is sound reasoning.“ „I did not mean to imply anything. Pray forgive me“, he said hastily. He might be many things, but he never took advantage of a woman. She smiled, and the sweet image sent a very unfamiliar wave of warmth into his belly. „Please reconsider. Mr. Knight is a good man. A reliable man.“ „How do you know Colin?“ „He is one of my children.“ He gaped. „You are his mother?“ She smiled again. It seemed second nature to her. „No. I have a small establishment, where children from the streets are taken care of. And Colin used to live on the streets, after his mother threw him out. His father took him up, when he learned about it.“ „I beg your pardon? What sort of care?“ „We trade them to workhouses and heartless masters, who whip them daily“, she said ironically. „I see. And do you earn well on that, Miss Arnheim?“, he gently asked. She smiled. „Not nearly as much as I would like to have to spend on new clothes and fancy jewelry.“ He liked her immediately. „In fact, Mr. Black, I was going to ask you if you were interested in contributing as a sponsor for our young charges.“ „I make you another offer. You can sell your young girls to my club“, he said, grinning. She shook, despite herself. „I…“ He stood up, and walked slowly towards her. She wanted to take a step back, but her backbone prevented her. He was very tall, and broad, and he dwarfed her. She was even more perfect from close. Her scent was wonderful, it was clean, flowery woman. „I am only jesting. I’ll visit your establishment“, he said. „But I am a busy man. I can’t promise you it’ll be soon.“ Was that a gleam of disappointment in her eyes?
Chapter 2
He was there just two days afterwards. He couldn’t resist to see her again. She never had left his mind, no matter how occupied it was. In the late afternoon, he drove to the address she had left him with, and was surprised to see a well-kept three-storey, whitewashed building with a pretty, flowery garden behind it. There were pots of colorful flowers outside of every large window. It was a house of care, quite obviously. He rang the door, wondering how she would take his early appearance. The door opened, and out she came herself. She was as beautiful as in his memory, but now her hip-long hair was all the way down, only held back by a small clip at the back of her head to keep it out of her face. She had magnificent, thick, golden hair. Truly, the woman was an angel descended on earth. „Mr. Black!“, she exclaimed, then smiled benignly. „How very kind of you to come and visit us!“ „Good afternoon, Miss Arnheim“, he tried to smile. It felt strange. He could not remember the last time he had smiled properly. There was a contented smirk at the wedding of his sister months ago. She opened the door fully, and he stepped in. „You should not open the door yourself, Madam. I can imagine you have some antagonists, out there.“ People like the deceased Diggins, who kept children as work slaves, and lost income when they left the street. „Oh, but Mr. Jones is here, he is just having his afternoon tea with the children. I was about to join them. Would you care to have a piece of cake?“ He almost grunted with amusement. A piece of cake? That was something which in his whole life, he had never been asked once. „Sure“, he managed to mumble in some effort at pleasantness, and as he entered the cosy, luminous living room, he spotted children sitting on soft, pretty sofas, looking well-fed, well-dressed … and at peace. He had never, not one day in his life as a child, felt remotely as they now did. And she was the cause of this. If he had known someone like her in his youth, life could have gone differently. Perhaps, he would still have a heart. He looked at the kids, and they looked at him - both with unease. A lanky boy with a handsome face stared at him. „Mr. Black“, he mumbled, and bowed his head in deference. „Aye. Good afternoon, children“, he added, as the beautiful Ms. Arnheim shot him a nervous look. Did she think he had come here to scare her flock? But no, she beamed. „Children, this is Mr. Black, as Oliver pointed out. He is visiting us to learn what we do here. He is a business man.“ „And I was a street child“, he pointed out calmly, but his heart felt icy. The children gaped. Oliver said with hard admiration: „And you built your own business, and now you are rich.“ „Yes.“ There was a small silence, then Ms. Arnheim said with a little smile: „Then perhaps Mr. Black can show us all how to become rich.“ The children laughed, and he grinned. „Please have a seat“. She pointed amiably at an armchair, and his stomach lurked at her kindness. As he made his way to the ridiculously welcoming, fluffy seat, a rough voice behind him said: „Ryker.“ He wheeled around. How had he not noticed the man before? Had his instincts left him? She had said there was a Mr. Jones here, too. But then he saw the man, and smiled. Seth Jones could stealth like a cat. He was the best of pick-pockets, at some time - and worse. „Seth.“ They shook hands, a grin on their hard faces. „So you work here now. Are you the baker?“, he jested. The other man chuckled. „No, I do the men's work around here, reparations, plumbing, gardening - and shopping for the larger items. And I also answer the door.“ „Except when you are having cake“, and they both grinned, as they had never had cake as children. „It’s