La Brat (13 page)

“Not you? That is ridiculous. I loved you.”

Aaron frowned, tilting his head to one side as he regarded her critically as though considering his next words with care. At last he spoke, “No, Genie. You liked having sex with me—most of the time. I certainly liked fucking you. But you didn’t trust me, so you couldn’t truly submit to me. Sooner or later, we would have split up. It was probably for the best.”

“I… I would have. I mean, I needed to learn, I
was
learning. I would never have done anything like that again.”

“I believe you, especially if I’d taught you the lesson you deserved for attacking me. Assuming you managed to accept my discipline the next time. But I needed your submission to be given freely, not dragged from you with the help of a cane. That would have just been cruel, and not my style. Whatever you were looking for, whether from a Dom or not, I couldn’t provide it.”

“Maybe not then, but I’ve changed.” Was that a note of desperation creeping into her voice? Of pleading, even. She had not intended to reveal so much.

“So have I. If anything, I’m even more exacting of my submissives now than I was then.”

“You are still in the lifestyle, then? On the Paris scene?” Eugenie couldn’t miss the pang of jealousy that shot through her like a barb at the mention of other submissives, presumably good, compliant submissives who obeyed their Master and liked nothing better than a decent whipping. Why couldn’t that have been her?

“Of course. Are you angling for some introductions?” He treated her to his ready smile again.

“I…” Eugenie was about to accept his offer from sheer force of habit, but hesitated. She’d quite deliberately and consciously left
La Brat
back in England. Was she about to start the whole self-destructive cycle again, rushing from club to club, from Dom to Dom, seeking the connection she’d only ever managed to find once before? Especially when the one Dom she had ever felt connected to was right here in front of her, telling her they were incompatible. Eugenie made a decision. In that moment, she knew that if she could not have Aaron Praed, no other Dom would fill his place.

“No, thank you.”

“No? Have you thought better of it, then? No longer into kink?”

Not with just anyone. Not anymore.
“It’s not that. I intend to concentrate on my career for the time being. I’ll be very busy. I need to make a success of this job so TFS Paris is going to get my undivided attention. If—when—we convince Farah to hold her wedding here I won’t have any time for clubbing, or socializing.”

Aaron nodded. “Probably a wise decision. Ah, here’s our soup.” They fell silent as the waiter laid their meal out for them. As the server sauntered back in the direction of the kitchens, Eugenie couldn’t help asking the question that was provoked by Aaron’s words of a few minutes before.

“What did you mean just now when you said you weren’t sure whether I was looking for a Dom or not? Why would you have thought that?

Aaron tore a bread roll in half and took a spoonful of his minestrone soup. At first, Eugenie thought he might not intend to answer her. He laid his spoon aside, though, and met her eyes.

“There were times—just a few times, but enough—when I wasn’t sure you were a submissive at all. Not at heart. I’d give you an instruction and you’d bristle, answer back perhaps, inviting discipline like a brat, but hating it when it was delivered. That last time was the most extreme example, but there were several other incidents. You were defiant, and resentful, I think, a lot of the time.”

“I was scared a lot of the time. And confused. I loved most of the things you did to me, but not all of it. I was learning, though. I could have tried harder. I would have tried harder if you’d given me another chance.”

Aaron reached across the table to take her hand. He squeezed it. “A D/s relationship is never easy for either partner. You tried it, and you did try hard. It just wasn’t for you. I see that more clearly now.”

“So you thought I was a rotten sub, then? Why did you put up with me for so long?” She hated the telltale tremor in her voice, could feel tears threatening.

“No, Genie, you weren’t a rotten sub. You were hard work, a challenge certainly, but rewarding enough. A lot of the time you were sweet and responsive, and you were so fucking gorgeous you took my breath away. You still are.”

She gazed at him, her eyes widening. “Then, why not…?”

Aaron wouldn’t let her complete the request. “Let it go, love. We’re colleagues now, and I hope we’ll be friends in the future. Leave the past where it is.”

He squeezed her hand again, curling his lips in a lopsided grin. Eugenie managed to mirror his expression, though she felt something brittle and delicate cracking deep inside her. She managed to quash it, though, forcing herself to accept what was on offer—friendship, professional respect. Aaron even seemed to like her, a bit. She’d settle for that.

They exchanged pleasantries as they ate their soup. Aaron insisted that she have the last bread roll, observing that she had lost weight. Eugenie accepted it with a smile, recalling that he had always seemed concerned that she was too thin. She’d thought his ‘I know best’ attitude had as much to do with his profession as it did his Dominant nature. Which reminded her of something that had been puzzling her.

“May I ask you a question?”

“Of course.” He laid down his spoon to give her his full attention.

“Why did you leave the police? I thought you loved your work.”

“I did. Then. I was still heading up Special Ops, I think, when we were together?”

“Yes. The police dogs, horses and helicopters.”

“One helicopter. Singular. But yes, I did enjoy that.”

“You never mentioned you were considering a move. That you might leave the police altogether.”

“I wasn’t, but things change.”

“I hope it had nothing to do with me.”

Aaron shook his head. “No, none of your doing. You remember I was on the graduate program—accelerated promotion and all that?”

Eugenie nodded.

“About six months after we split up, I was promoted to superintendent and transferred to headquarters in Gateshead. That was the last I saw of real policing. Instead, I found myself playing politics, juggling budgets and under constant pressure to reduce the costs of policing the county. I hated it. So when I was approached by an old friend from college about this opening that had arisen with Totally Five Star Paris, I was interested. My friend had become an executive recruitment consultant, a headhunter if you like. I spoke the language, and I was ripe for a new challenge. The pay they were offering was tempting, but if I’d been happy in my job, I doubt that would have swung it. I wasn’t, and it did. I was headhunted, and here I am.”

“Have you ever regretted it? Surely, this is not as exciting as the dogs and horses. And helicopter.”

“Maybe not, but I’d already parted company from my toys. That was perhaps my mistake. Leaving the police to join TFS was a good move. I like Paris, I’ve found I like hotels and I particularly like this one.”

“I do too. I intend to be happy here. I am grateful to you for not mentioning what happened in the past.”

“I would never have done that, love. Apart from anything else, I value my privacy too.” He brushed a few stray crumbs from his lap. “So, shall we get on with planning how we’re going to charm this bride into coming to Paris for her wedding?”

Chapter Nine

Eugenie waited in the vast expanse of the hotel, her gaze riveted to the glass doors and the red carpet beyond. Monsieur Dubain, the butler who would greet her honored guests as they exited their limousine, was under strict instructions to signal her the moment their car came into sight. She would be there, at the top of the steps, ready to welcome Farah and Lucas to the Totally Five Star, and set the scene for the rest of their visit. Nothing would go wrong, nothing had been left to chance. Every detail of the next two days, every aspect of this visit had been anticipated, rehearsed, planned and prepared for.

TFS Paris ran a polished enough show as it was, Eugenie had simply brought everything to an even brighter sheen. She had Elise’s total support, and all staff were under instructions to cooperate fully. And they had. Eugenie was impressed. From the most senior managers down to the elderly gentleman who tended the gardens, all were equally committed to this shared goal.

The place sparkled. Annette Giraud’s staff had been on overtime to ensure there was not a surface that didn’t shine, not a window or mirror with so much as a smudge to mar its glistening perfection. Glassware gleamed, the carpets and floors were spotless. The assorted pieces of art and antiques that graced both public and private areas were arranged and lit to their absolute best effect. The hotel was, quite simply, magnificent.

The building was ready. Now she had to hope the staff was too.

A nod from Monsieur Dubain, just visible on the other side of the plate glass door, alerted her. The show was about to start. Eugenie stepped forward as the pane slid soundlessly aside to allow her to pass through. She took her position beside the austere butler, arranged her features into a quiet, efficient smile of welcome, just the right blend of confidence and desire to please—she hoped.

She was vaguely conscious of Aaron’s quiet presence behind her and to her right, and that of his team. He had a man at the entrance to the street, monitoring all vehicle access, and another at the foot of the steps ready to open the door of the limousine. That guard posed as a doorman, but she knew better. Often Aaron placed his security staff in innocuous positions, blending in with the fabric of the place but ever vigilant. There were more just now, new staff appearing in the restaurants, the kitchens, the casino, the bars. They had been drilled to perform their cover roles as efficiently as the genuine staff, while also providing the eyes and ears that Aaron insisted on having everywhere.

He also used new technology to the best effect. The CCTV throughout the entire hotel had been upgraded and intruder alarms installed in sensitive areas. He would know if so much as a fly landed anywhere within the suite to be occupied by Farah and Lucas—though it was unlikely such a creature would find its way through his ring of protection. He had been in close liaison with the security teams protecting both Farah and her fiancé, and had ensured that there would be no breaches at his end. This place was as tight as possible to make it without installing turrets and machine guns.

Not that Aaron would have balked at such measures had he thought them necessary. And if so, it would have been Eugenie’s job to wrap his turrets up in the quiet veneer of sophistication that showcased everything about the hotel to its absolute best. Their teamwork on this quest had been seamless.

What a pity such rapport had escaped them three years previously.

Shrugging such misplaced reminiscences aside, Eugenie allowed the bubble of anticipation in her stomach to swell. The tingle of nerves would sharpen her performance now, the adrenaline flowing to hone her instincts. She welcomed it as she stepped forward, her hand outstretched to greet the couple now ascending the short flight of steps.

Lucas was the first to shake her hand, his broad smile softening his otherwise sharp features. He was a handsome man, quite stunning in fact, and from his first emergence as a center forward in the Premier Division had been much courted by the paparazzi. His blond good looks were perhaps a little too classical for Eugenie’s taste, but even so, the prickle of attraction was undeniable. She defied any woman with a pulse not to experience it.

Her attention shifted to the darker, smaller presence beside him—Farah Ajram, Arab princess and heiress to an oil fortune worth billions, it was rumored. And Eugenie’s true target.

She smiled and bowed her head. “My name is Eugenie d’André. I am in charge of corporate and social events at Totally Five Star Paris. I will be your hostess for this visit. I will take care of you and show you all the facilities we have to offer here. I will deal with any questions you may have and make sure your stay is as comfortable and fulfilling as possible. So, welcome to Paris, sir, madam.”

“Thank you. We’ve been looking forward to coming back here.” Lucas’ polite reply was non-committal.

“I will show you to your suite. Monsieur Dubain will see to it that your luggage is unloaded and taken to your rooms. Would you like some refreshment after your journey?” Eugenie gestured them to precede her through the doors into the reception area, where the atmosphere was one of comfort and calm. A couple of guests, carefully vetted by Aaron, lounged on the couches, served with drinks by silent, efficient staff. The lighting was set up to accentuate a display of antique Moroccan vases, but without detracting from the businesslike efficiency of this central hub. This was the core of the Paris hotel, the first impression, the nerve center. Eugenie knew this moment could make or break her campaign.

Farah gazed around her, assessing. Eugenie saw this and realized she was holding her breath.

“Perhaps a glass of water, before we go up. Sparkling if you have it. It has been a long journey, and quite hot.” Farah’s tone was quiet, her words undemanding on the face of it. Eugenie knew better. This was their first test.

She ushered the couple to an unoccupied bank of sofas, her unobtrusive gesture summoning a server instantly. A bottle of sparkling water materialized with two glasses. The waiter snapped the top and poured as Eugenie perched on the couch opposite. She had chosen a modest but smart business suit, knee-length straight skirt in a shade just short of navy blue, and a soft cream-colored top. The neckline draped in soft folds, sensuous without being overtly sexy. As she surveyed the pair opposite, Eugenie was pleased. She felt she’d judged her choice of outfit just right.

Lucas wore a sharp suit in a pale gray, the jacket open to reveal a pristine white shirt. The neck was open and he wore no tie. Farah also wore trousers, but in the form of a feminine and loosely flowing pantsuit in muted purples and yellows. She arranged the kimono-style jacket around her as she reached for her glass. As she sipped her water, Eugenie was aware that Farah was scanning her surroundings, taking in every detail. In contrast, Lucas appeared utterly relaxed. He leaned back, extending his arm along the backrest to drape across Farah’s shoulders.