BLIND: A Mastermind Novel (38 page)

“When will we be together again?
”
she asked, her hands making a casual detour over his arm, putting him on high alert.

She hadn’t broached the subject of their last departure and he was grateful. If anything, Scarlet was unpredictable and for the most part he found that refreshing. But that night
…
His carelessness had fractured a bit of their foundation. Nothing was severed, but he’d taken the lesson to heart.

Scarlet was more delicate than he’d realized. She had strong boundaries surrounding her tender emotions, much like him. “I need to tell you something, Scarlet.”

She stilled and he sensed her worry. “Okay.”

“What I did the other night was wrong. I made you feel cornered and…I wasn’t thinking.” His mind traveled to moments when he’d been vulnerable, naked, and cornered. “I had no right to impose on your privacy like that and I’m so sorry I hurt you. I never want you to feel bullied into doing something you don’t want to do. I should have trusted you and I… I made a mistake. I won’t violate your privacy like that ever again.”

Her hand rested on his chest as her lips curved with a soft smile. “I accept your apology.”

Chapter Fifteen

Hunger

The following Monday Scarlet dressed carefully. Though she and Mr. Stone had fallen on that one rough time that made their future seem questionable, their last encounter had banished all doubt.

Rushing home from work, she quickly showered and donned a long green sweater-dress paired with the brown leather boots he’d gifted her. Pennyworth arrived at six and she appreciated Mr. Stone’s attention to detail, in that he always made their weeknight encounters a bit earlier in respect for her early mornings.

As they drove, she and Pennyworth fell into easy conversation. The car slowed and she grinned, recognizing the approximate time it took to get from her place to his.

“We’re here,
”
Pennyworth announced, stepping from the car.

She reached for the door just as Pennyworth pulled it wide and took her hand. The walk up the steps was bitterly cold, the temperatures dropping into the teens. She hated winter. As the door opened, heat from the interior of the house beckoned.

“Good evening, Ms. Farrow.”

“Good evening, Mr. Stone.
”
He took her arm and guided her inside. “I liked my note tonight.”

He never failed to surprise her. Tonight’s note had been especially sweet. She’d memorized every word.

Ms. Farrow,

You once expressed an envy for couples, the sort where the man watches the woman and smiles even though she has no idea he’s studying her. I smile all the time when you don’t know I’m looking. You also expressed an interest in simple conclusions to ordinary days, the simple act of sharing a meal becomes extraordinary. Tonight we will be dining together. I look forward to hearing about your day as well as your deepest desires. There is much to cover.

The choice is yours, Ms. Farrow. Should you choose to continue, it will be on my terms and your trust. If you consent, place the mask over your eyes and my chauffeur shall deliver you into my care. I hope to see you soon.

~Mr. Stone

A.R.

He removed her coat and scarf. “You’re hands are freezing. Where are your gloves?”

“I forgot them,
”
she confessed.

The air smelled of roasted meat and spices. She wondered if he cooked. “We have company in the vicinity tonight, Ms. Farrow, my personal chef. She’s in the kitchen and will not disturb us, but you should know we aren’t alone.”

“Oh.
”
At one time, company would have made her feel safe. She no longer needed that added security. Oddly, the outsider troubled her. She didn’t want to be seen blindfolded—because, really, who did that? And she also worried having someone nearby, aside from Pennyworth who never interrupted, might keep Mr. Stone at a distance.

“Let’s have a seat.
”
A chair scraped heavily along the floor. “The table’s been set, nothing too fancy. We have roasted chicken, potatoes seasoned in fresh rosemary, basmati rice with mushrooms, steamed broccoli, dessert, and of course wine. Everything’s here, so we shouldn’t be disturbed, but the chef is near in case there’s anything we forgot.”

She was still processing that he had a personal chef. The menu, though he said it was nothing too fancy, sounded extravagant. Had she been home she’d be dining with Thor on a crappy microwavable dinner. “Everything sounds delicious.”

He placed a napkin over her lap, swiping a hand under her hair and placing a kiss on her neck. Her shoulders lifted as a shiver went down her spine. “Not as delicious as you, Ms. Farrow.”

He tucked her chair into the table and the trickle of wine filling a glass echoed. “The chef selected the wine tonight. I hope you don’t mind that it’s white.”

“All wine is good wine,
”
she joked.

When he sat down, she was taken off guard. Rather than sit across from her, he sat directly beside her. “Have you ever dined in the dark? Tell me what you’d like to start with and I’ll assist you.”

She selected the chicken and he actually cut her meat. Her hand felt for the fork, her fingers traveling up the heavy stem until her fingers pressed into the identifiable tines.

As it turned out, eating blind was a lot harder than she’d expected. Without sight, she found it difficult to accurately locate her mouth. She hadn’t anticipated having so much trouble. It wasn’t that she couldn’t get food into her mouth. Her fingers knew where the hole was, but the fork was messing her up. She likely looked ridiculous, missing the target and chasing down food with her tongue.

“Let me help you, Scarlet,
”
he said, humor in his voice.

She placed the fork on the table. “It’s harder than you’d think.”

He chuckled. “Open. This is chicken.”

Feeling ridiculous, she parted her lips. The meat was warm and tender. Savory juice burst over her tongue as she chewed.

“How about a piece of broccoli?”

He fed her throughout the entire dinner. She felt infantile and sort of like a bird, but in the end, when it came time for dessert, things didn’t seem so juvenile.

“You’re lips are red from the strawberries, Ms. Farrow.”

The wine had gone to her head. Smiling she licked her lips and hummed. “I bet they taste like strawberries too. Wanna try?”

He chuckled. “In time. I want to discuss those deep dark desires of yours. Care to share one?”

There weren’t many, though the fantasies she used to entertain now paled in comparison to the ones including Mr. Stone. “Right now my biggest fantasy is kissing you.”

He tapped her nose with a berry. “Not yet. Let’s make this a bit easier. I’ll say a word and you tell me how it makes you feel in a word.”

“Sort of like the first night we talked.”

“Yes, but this will be like the childhood game Hot and Cold. You remember that game, right?”

She nodded.

“Very good. The first word is, kissing.”

“Hot.”

“Good.
”
He paused for a moment. “Breasts.”

“Mmm. Warm.”

“Pussy.”

“Wet.”

He tsked. “I’m sure, but you’re supposed to tell me the degree of the effect. How hot is your wet little pussy, Ms. Farrow?”

“Burning.
”
She giggled.

He grunted, the sound masculine and carnal. “Biting.”

Her head tipped as she thought about biting. No one had ever bit her. “Curiously warm.”

“Fair enough. Oral sex.”

“Who’s receiving?
”
she asked.

“You.”

“Hot.”

“Me.”

“Hotter.”

“Really?”

She lifted a shoulder and smirked. “Give me a green light at this point and I’m not sure you’re safe, Mr. Stone. No one’s ever made me want them this badly.”

He made a sound of understanding. “Next word. Fucking.”

“Steaming.”

“Spanking.”

“Burn.”

“Good burn or bad, Ms. Farrow?”

“Good.”

“Interesting. Hair pulling.”

Her mind filled with images of Mr. Stone behind her, fucking her hard, his nails scraping over her ass, rosy from his palm, as his other hand tightened in her hair, forcing her back to bow. She needed another sip of wine. “Scorching.”

“You have quite a kinky side to you, Ms. Farrow.”

She shook her head. There really wasn’t anything this man couldn’t do to her at this point. “That’s only because I’m imagining you doing all those things. With anyone else I’d be cold.”

His voice turned hoarse as though her words shocked him. “Is that true?”

Slowly, she nodded. “I think I’ve made it clear what you do to me.”

“What if I wanted to tie you up?
”

Pausing, she analyzed the slight vulnerability hiding behind the question. He was honestly asking, no longer playing a game of Hot and Cold. She detected curiosity in his tone of voice.

“Do
you
want to tie me up, Mr. Stone?”

There was a moment of utter silence. When he didn’t answer she reached for his hand, but he pulled it away. She stilled, not sure why he was suddenly withdrawing.

“I know you like control,
”
she whispered. “It’s okay. I sort of like when you take it.”

“I think our evening’s come to an end, Ms. Farrow.”

She frowned. “Please don’t be embarrassed. I’ve confessed so much tonight. I’m not judging you.”

“I should get your coat.”

Lowering her head, she questioned why he was so uptight about some topics, when at other times he seemed almost shameless. “No.”

“Scarlet?”

“I…I want you to talk to me. I try to honestly answer everything you ask me, but a conversation takes two points of view. You agreed with that when I told you about the one-sided dates I had to suffer, but now you’re leaving me in the dark. Why can’t we just have a conversation about this?”

His clothing shifted as he lowered to his seat. “Fair enough. Go on.”

“Do you want to tie me up or do any of those things we just mentioned?”

He drew in an audible breath and hesitated. “I…don’t know.”

Blindly, she reached for his hand and squeezed. “I didn’t say no, Mr. Stone. I don’t know either. I know seeing you, looking into your eyes would help. It’s perfectly fine for two adults to discuss their desires. But when you push me away every time the tables turn and you get a little uncomfortable, I’m left exposed in the dark.”

His hand turned, his fingers lacing with hers as he squeezed. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to do that. I suppose it’s a reflex of mine I need to overcome.”

She smiled. “Look at me. I’m sitting here blindfolded—probably with food on my face. Who am I to judge?”

He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “You’re right. But it is getting late and you have school tomorrow.”

She grinned and released his hand. “Then I’ll take my coat now.”

He was very quiet as he guided her to the door and buttoned her coat. It occurred to her they had three nights left. Only three.

“When can we be together again?
”
she asked, fishing for reassurance, as he gently tucked her scarf around her throat.

“That depends on a few things. I may have to go out of town for a few days.”

“Oh.
”
This took her by surprise. She never knew where he was anyway, but always assumed he was nearby. “Where are you going?”

“Milan.”

“Tennessee?”

“Italy. Give me your hands. You can wear my gloves.”

Italy? Why was he going to Italy? Was he going alone? “Is anyone going with you?”

“My partner.”

She made a choking sound and stepped back. “Your…
partner
?”

“
Business
partner, Scarlet. It’s a business trip. We’re flying over, signing papers, and flying right back. It’s not a vacation.”