MasterofVelvet (7 page)

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Enough, woman, it’s
time to go. Let’s get your coat.”

Beth was expecting them to go down to the basement car park
but instead they exited the lift in the lobby. It was all glass and marble and
chrome and like Adam’s apartment, it screamed wealth. Not to mention security—closed-circuit
television cameras were strategically placed and then there was the concierge,
who looked more ex-Army than a concierge probably should.

“Adam? I thought we were going in your car?”

“We were,” he agreed amiably, “but then I thought ‘What the
hell!’ and decided I wasn’t going to let you have all the fun tonight. Your
carriage awaits, milady.”

He opened the door for her and there was a gleaming silver
Rolls-Royce, complete with chauffeur, who came round to open the car door for
them.

“Adam, you’re insane!” she whispered hoarsely, trying to
climb as elegantly as she could into the back of the limousine while holding on
to her companion’s hand.

“Only occasionally, Beth, only occasionally.”

And always around you.

The back of the Rolls-Royce, though spacious, was warm and
intimate. And dressed in the clothes he’d bought for her, wearing the diamond
collar he’d had made almost three years ago, Beth took his breath away. She
made his heart race as if he were a teenager on his first date.

He’d lied when he’d implied that it wasn’t a collar—in an
uncharacteristic moment of weakness, he’d got it out of the safe but had
deliberately not let her look in a mirror. She might catch a glimpse of it in a
reflection here or there but he was determined that she would only see how
beautiful she looked in it once she fully accepted her place as his sub.

A vivid image came to mind. Beth, in his bed, wearing
nothing but the diamond collar and waiting for him—for her Master—to accept the
gift of control over her body and her pleasure. He was getting a hard-on just
thinking about it. Probably best not to think of it too much— it would play
merry hell with the line of his trousers.

Their destination was his favorite restaurant, his bolthole
of serenity when he needed time away from day-to-day life. He’d only ever gone
there alone, wanting to keep it for that special someone, intending that it
should become their special place—unsullied by memories of time spent there
with other women who had passed through his life.

Though in the heart of Mayfair, the restaurant itself was
well off the beaten track—the mews location ensured that only those in the know
would be aware of its existence. Adam had been a regular customer for more than
five years now and was greeted warmly by a member of the front-of-house team.

“Mr. Granger, it’s a pleasure as always. And you have
company this evening. Please come this way. Your usual table is ready.”

With her coat safely hanging in the cloakroom, Beth was
extremely conscious of the heat of Adam’s hand on her back as they followed the
host to Adam’s usual table. Once again she was thrown off balance by the fact
that not only was there a whole side to Adam’s life of which she was completely
unaware and that he had now chosen to share it with her.

So this was his favorite place to eat. She already knew Adam
had taste but this place was in a different league—and it suited him perfectly.
It had style, it was understated—it was a cocoon of refinement and elegance.
The décor was an impressive blend of natural tones and shades, modern but
timeless—and it offered a distinctive sense of tranquility.

Once seated at the table in a secluded part of the
restaurant, Beth covertly studied her companion while she was perusing the menu
and he was sipping a Scotch on the rocks. Whatever she’d thought she knew about
him, she had a feeling that things were about to change beyond all recognition.

And how much did she know about herself? Here she was in a
public place, all dressed up and without a shred of underwear, so maybe not as
much as she’d thought. Forty-eight hours earlier she would never have imagined
herself capable of doing something like this.

Lost in thought, she didn’t even realize that the waiter had
arrived to take their order and couldn’t believe it when Adam ordered for her.

“And please let Mark know that we’ll have a bottle of
whatever he recommends to complement the food.”

Beth waited until the waiter left, then turned her attention
to the man opposite her.

“Tell me you would have chosen anything different, Beth,” he
challenged her, his expression intense, daring her to argue. “I know your
choices from the last three office Christmas parties and you are nothing if not
a woman of habit. But don’t worry, I’ll teach you to be more adventurous
outside the bedroom, as well as inside it.”

She deliberately ignored the provocative comment. “Who’s
Mark?”

“The sommelier. What he doesn’t know about wine isn’t worth
knowing. Nothing else to say, love?”

She took a slow deep breath. “I suppose you do know that
these days, women are perfectly capable of making their own choices when it
comes to eating out? Lots of other things too.”

He raised his eyebrows, his expression one of consideration
of her statement. “It doesn’t alter the fact that you’re here, in the outfit I
chose for you. And while you are making the politically correct point every
woman should, you haven’t exactly screamed blue murder about it.”

She couldn’t argue with that. “Well, you have given me a lot
to think about today, including why you brought me here.” She gestured toward
their surroundings. “It’s not every day your boss tells you he’s a Dom and he
thinks you’d make a good sub.”

Smiling, he shook his head. “You need to stop thinking of me
just as your boss, Beth. In fact that role doesn’t even matter anymore. And no,
not that you would make a good sub—you are a sub. Need I remind you that you’re
not wearing panties—you’ve already given me your obedience and made yourself
sexually available to me in public?

“Shall I tell you what I see in you? A warm, witty,
intelligent, caring woman with a submissive side to your nature that you
haven’t yet decided to let into your life. If you acknowledge your inner
submissive and let her into your life, I can teach her all that’s good about
what she is. She’s an essential part of you, Beth. You’ll be no less of a woman
if you never let her in but you’ll always wonder how good it might have been.”

She was already wondering—had been for a long time. She’d
read about Domination and submission, devoured books on the subject and was
trying to deal with her secret desires by writing about them. Writing was safe.
Her heroine’s Dom was Beth’s fantasy man and while he only existed on her
computer screen, he could do nothing to hurt her.

But the man seated opposite her was real. He was flesh and
blood, he desired her and he wanted to be her guide on the road to submission.
And he was the model for her fantasy man. Oh, she had to be insane for even
thinking—

“Beth, I brought you here to spend a pleasant evening with
you. Whatever’s going through your mind, put it to one side—leave it for
tomorrow. Tonight we are going to have a delicious meal and get to know each
other a little better.”

He was right—the food was delicious and so was the wine
chosen by the sommelier. It complemented the meal perfectly and when the time
came to return to Adam’s apartment, Beth was distinctly lightheaded. Seated in
the back of the Rolls-Royce again, she glared at Adam, who gave every sign of
being stone-cold sober.

“So,” he said lazily, “what do you think of the restaurant?”

“I can understand why it’s your favorite, Adam. I’ve never
been anywhere like that before.”

“But you enjoyed the food?”

She chuckled softly. “How could I not? I’ve never tasted
anything like it—sheer heaven.”

“And the wine?”

At that question, she looked a little sheepish. “I know
absolutely nothing about wine, but what we had really suited the food.”

“Mark does know his subject,” Adam agreed. “I know what I
like but it doesn’t always go with what I’m eating. That’s why he’s the sommelier
and I’m not. And now for the killer question—what about the company?”

The company of the man with whom she was now having a
relationship. The evening might have gotten off to a slightly prickly start but
thinking about it, Beth realized that she’d had a wonderful time with a
devastatingly attractive man—the kind of man she’d never imagined being part of
her personal life but always dreamed about.

Earlier she’d wondered how long it would take her to get
used to the idea of being Adam’s…Adam’s what? Or just Adam’s? The answer was
next to no time at all.

“Adam,” she said, linking her arm through his, “I have had a
wonderful evening and I have enjoyed your company very, very much.”

“Then you’ll have no objection to repeating the experience.
And next time I’m taking you dancing.”

It was a statement not a question—she was mentally alert
enough to work that one out, so she didn’t reply. Instead she leaned her head
against his shoulder and closed her eyes, imagining what it would be like to be
held in his arms as they swayed to a slow, romantic ballad. He’d hold her close…her
head would rest against his shoulder. If she had that, she would need nothing
more in life.

Her sigh was one of pure contentment.

Adam glanced at the woman nestled against him, and felt a tightening
of his body that had been absent for six long months. What the hell was it
about her that had turned him into the arrogant boor who had decided that he
knew what she was going to have for dinner?

He was a sexual Dominant, not a lifestyle Dom. He took
control when it came to sex and physical intimacy and that was it. Except with
Beth his usual feelings toward a sub—feelings of possessiveness, the desire to
protect—seemed to be magnified beyond all reason.

Putting the thought to one side, he smiled to himself. It
had been a good evening, one he’d truly enjoyed and his decision to share his favorite
restaurant with his woman had been totally justified. The perfect end to the
evening would have been knowing that he was taking Beth back home to make love
to her but as much as he wanted her, he knew that it would have to wait.

It was important, he realized, that he find out the true
extent of her interest in Domination and submission. He’d pushed her far enough
to begin with by instructing her to go without panties for their visit to the
restaurant. Had she shown any real sign of distress he would have produced the
bag of silky lingerie he’d also purchased at the boutique.

Adam wasn’t comfortable with the thought of being a
lifestyle Dom—outside the bedroom he wanted a woman who could think for
herself, a woman who would stimulate him mentally, not a slave who looked to
him for direction in every aspect of her life. He’d met enough subs like that
to know that it wasn’t for him—he enjoyed the contrast of having a confident,
independent woman on his arm outside the bedroom and having that same woman
kneel before him in the bedroom and lose all control in his arms.

He wanted that woman to be Beth.

* * * * *

When they arrived back at the apartment Beth let Adam take
her coat. The lightheaded feeling had now given way to a desire for sleep. Part
of her wanted to head straight for bed but good manners dictated otherwise. She
slipped off her shoes and limped toward one of the large, comfortable sofas,
wondering if Adam would join her. No, not if—when. She sat down with her legs
curled under her.

“Hey, sleepyhead, time for a nightcap. How’s your ankle?”

Dear Lord, if he’d been attractive before he was a thousand
times more potent now. Her brain could only produce a babbled response to his inquiry
about her injury, while her eyes were fully occupied in gorging themselves on
the man himself. Devilishly handsome with his dark hair softly ruffled, he’d
shed his jacket, waistcoat and bow tie and unfastened the top buttons of his
shirt.

In the dimmed lighting, he scored a direct hit on her pussy.
Remembering that she was still without underwear she winced, hoping that any
evidence of her arousal would not soak her dress. She took the offered brandy
snifter in both hands, swirling the glass to warm the measure of cognac.

She took a careful sip. The fine spirit burned its way down
her throat and settled in a puddle of molten fire in her stomach. For a moment
or two she stared into the amber depths of the glass, aware of Adam’s gaze upon
her. His posture was as relaxed as her own—she would only need to lift her head
slightly for her eyes to lock with his and under the influence of fine food and
wine and her own raging feelings and desires, it wouldn’t take much for her to
agree to anything he might suggest.

And it was just as much a mistake to focus on his legs, the
fabric of his trousers pulled taut over his muscular thighs—and what looked
like a substantial erection.

“Are you blushing, Beth?” His amusement was evident in his
voice. “That’s the effect you have on me, but you needn’t worry—tonight is not
the night. You need to sleep and then you need to think about what we’ve
discussed. We’ll talk more tomorrow.

“Now I want you to take your drink and go and get yourself
into bed. I’ll be out here. You have nothing to worry about.”

Nothing to worry about, he said. She peered at the clock
again. It was 3 a.m., precisely seventeen minutes since she’d last checked the
time.

Beth had managed to get some sleep since Adam had ushered
her off to the bedroom but once she’d woken up about an hour earlier—feeling
sober even if legally she wasn’t—she hadn’t been able to find sleep again due
to thinking about the things Adam had said to her and what it had been like to
go out with him.

What it felt like to be his woman.