Chapter Seven

                                    

                                          
As Ayo awoke, she became faintly aware that she was not sleeping alone. The soft snoring of the man next to her and the large hand was wrapped around her was evidence enough. 
                          
She pushed him off of her and slid off the bed. She redid her fastenings. She sighed at the faint bruising of her skin where his kisses were roughest. She had no idea what possessed her to do such a thing. It made no difference now. She was never to be married. What difference would one night make?
                          
She looked back and saw a faint red stain on the white linen. Her father would be disappointed. There wasn't time to focus on that now, he could be upset with her after she escaped.
                          
It was just past daybreak, the sunlight had begun to peek behind the long dark brown drapes of this room. She hoped it would be early enough that the entire household would not notice her attempt at escape. 
                          
She moved stealthily along the hardwood floor tiptoeing towards the door. When the blasted wood started to creak. A fact she did not notice last night. She swore under her breath. She would surely be caught at this rate.
                          
"Princess, where are you going?" Elijah said getting up to rest his head in his palm, leaning on his elbow. He looked incredibly provocative even at the ungodly hour. The sheet barely hiding all of his many attributes.
                          
"That is none of your concern," She said in perfect English, with excellent articulation and soft African accent.
                          
He jolted out of bed and sat up looking extremely perplexed. "You speak English. By God, why did you not say this yesterday?" Then perhaps he could have avoided the awkwardly honest speech he made last night. He stood the sheet fell away exposing his half fastened pants causing her to blush.
                          
"That shade is most becoming on you, Princess." He said walking towards his closet taking out a new shirtsleeve and doing up his pants. She watched as he adorned himself, half tempted to undo his work.
                          
"Do not call me that. My name is Ayo." She said sternly.
                          
"Ayo, you keep getting more thought-provoking by the hour. So tell me Ayo, who are you and where are you from?" He came to stand in front of her.
                          
"I am the daughter of Gambia's high Chief Tau. I demand that you send an emissary to deliver a message to my father in London so that I may be liberated from this situation."
                          
"First you ask me not to call you Princess, and then you claim you are one. There are certain truths of your situation Ayo none of which includes royalty. First, you were..." He placed emphasis on the word, "a virgin. Second, you are a slave and you belong to me, in more ways than one." He said looking towards the bed again.
                          
"Don't be asinine," she spat. "I belong to no one least of all you."
                          
Elijah slid nearer to her and stood so close she could smell the soap from his clean shirt. Unfortunately, it also meant she could smell the musk rising off of his body, and the stimulating scent of his cologne. He suddenly wrapped his arm around her waist and heaved her to his robust body.
                          
His gaze was intense and solicitous forcing her to stare in return. He pressed his lips fully onto hers enveloping her mouth. At first, she resisted pushing against his chest, not using half the force he knew she was capable of. Her protest melted when his tongue delved into the sweet recessing of her tart mouth. She moaned unexpectedly, locking her hands in his red hair. He curved his hand underneath her bottom and squeezed; pressing their pelvis' together.
                          
He broke the kiss, "I daresay Princess, you do belong to me and that was just a small example of why."
                          
A sound slap cut across his cheek and he freed her, laughing heartily. The sound of his laughter was infectious although she would never admit it.
                          
"I would rather rot." She declared.
                          
"That can be arranged." He smiled evilly.
                          
She turned her back to him, "I refuse to be your whore. I would rather be whipped to death or lynched than spend another moment in your audacious company."
                          
Elijah leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "I have never been one to force my will on a woman, particularly one as enticing as you..." A chill crawled up her spine. "So being of a generous nature I will give you a choice. You will stay here as my personal servant, which means you will replace Bradford as my valet and attend to all my needs and I do mean all my needs, Princess. Or you can go out to fields and work yourself into an early grave, the choice is yours."
                          
She turned back to look into his eyes and measure the sincerity of his words. She was sure he meant every word of it. There was no hint of deceitfulness in him.
                          
"I choose the fields it would be a welcome change in comparison to putting up with you. You, sir, are a lout."
                          
"Charmed, my dear, but the days' work is about to begin. I would not want to be the reason your lovely back is marred by the driver's whip," He teased.
                          
Elijah flashed a breath-taking smile and sauntered out the door. The audacity of the man to be so unbelievably attractive and then to have the personality of a wet rag, she had to get away from here fast, this Elijah presented a bigger problem than she bargained for.