Sins of Omission by Fern Michaels Read Free Book Online Page B

The hell with it, he thought, angered by his own insufficiencies. He’d made a deal to come here and do—what? The exact conditions of his stay had never been explained. It was his bunkmates in the barracks who said he’d be “servicing” the legendary Madame Mickey.
    A strange sensation descended upon him, something akin to fear. Perhaps there was something wrong with him. Perhaps he didn’t measure up. Screw it, he decided. I’ll take the R and R.
    â€œI’m ready to turn in, Daniel. Who’s going to ring the bell?”
    Daniel grinned. “You’re the man around here, you ring it.”
    â€œI don’t like that smirk on your face,” Reuben said coolly.
    â€œSmirk? Sorry, my friend, that’s a grimace of pain. My eyes are aching and burning. Aren’t yours? And my shoulder itches. All I want is a bed and sleep. Ring the damn bell and let’s hit the sack.”
    In her room directly above the drawing room, Mickey heard the tinkle of the bell. Footsteps followed, muffled on the carpeting. They’d be undressing now. The beds were already turned down. The hot chocolate would be placed on the little bedside tables in exquisite porcelain cups. Then the eyedrops, the ointment, the little pills with a swallow of water. Minutes ticked by. The chocolate would be finished, the lights would go off, the covers pulled up. Ah, in seconds Daniel would be asleep, and Reuben would…
    She’d never waited like this with any other lover. Always she’d brought them to her bed upon their arrival. Of course, they’d been experienced lovers, eager to please. Again and again.
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    In the dark comfort of his bed Reuben refused to admit that he couldn’t fall asleep—refused to accept that he was waiting with anticipation for his door to open, waiting for the invitation to go to Mickey’s bed.
    In his first restless sleep he dreamed he was running around the room in his skivvies. Mickey was laughing, mocking him, calling him a boy, a little boy. The dream passed. A little before dawn he reached out and grasped the deep restful sleep his body desperately needed.
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    Reuben woke at noon, crawled from beneath the covers, and noticed that a fire had been started in the fireplace at the foot of his bed, that the room was warm and cozy as well as luxurious. A ewer of hot water had been prepared and left for him to wash and shave. Ready to face the day, he assumed an attitude of nonchalance when he descended the stairs to search for Daniel. Both his friend and Madame Mickey were seated in a small alcove off the dining hall, talking quietly over coffee. A breakfast setting had been put out for him, he noticed, but the others were finished eating.
    â€œDid you sleep well. Reuben?” Mickey asked, concern in her voice.
    He smiled. “I think I had the best night’s sleep I’ve had since leaving the States. How did you sleep, Daniel?”
    â€œVery well, and I think I’ve just put a big dent in Mickey’s larder. Wonderful breakfast. Don’t look so disapproving. Mickey asked me to call her by her first name. We’re not being formal.”
    â€œBut, of course, you must also call me Mickey. All my good friends ignore my title. It is of little importance. Only bank accounts are important in France. Now, what will you have for breakfast?”
    â€œEggs?” Reuben asked hopefully.
    â€œAnd ham and sweet rolls and fresh juice. Fresh fruit also, if you like. We must have you healthy again,” she said, smiling. She rang the bell, speaking rapidly in French when the maid appeared. Minutes later, a platter of golden eggs and pink ham stared up at him, accompanied by sweet rolls dripping with creamery butter. He gulped the refreshing juice and didn’t question the miracle of fresh fruit in a war zone.
    â€œI’m pleased, so pleased,” Mickey said. “You’ve both slept well, you’ve eaten a hearty