Haunted

by Ella Ardent

  Too bad she didn’t have a fairy godmother.

  Or even some ugly little troll like Rumpelstiltskin.

  Part of her wanted to insist that Rex’s demand wasn’t fair.

  The other part of her—okay, the larger part—wanted to succeed so brilliantly that he was awed, dazzled, amazed, and determined to let her not only stay at The Phoenix, but learn to be a dominatrix.

  Preferably trained by Rex himself.

  Preferably with the graduation present of getting to dominate Rex himself. Amy felt all hot and bothered just imagining the possibilities.

  Which meant she had to figure this out, somehow.

  Amy was naked in the office of The Phoenix. The door was locked and Rex was lounging at his desk. He was working on his laptop, but Amy knew that if she moved, he wouldn’t miss it. Her ass was already sore enough from Rick’s spankings but that would be nothing compared to punishment from Rex. Amy was done with punishment.

  She was ready for reward.

  She was wearing black leather ankle and wrist shackles, which were chained together, and nothing else. She knelt at Rex’s feet, as commanded, with a ridiculous array of paper in front of her.

  Paper. It was barbaric to keep any records on paper, in file folders.

  “Welcome to the nineteenth century,” she muttered, expressing just a little bit of her defiance, and picked up the first folder with a sigh.

  “You can always admit defeat,” Rex said quietly, then flicked a glance down at her. He was amused by her, Amy could see as much, and she hated that, too. She wanted him to be impressed by her, or to want her, not to look at her as if she were a tedious child.

  “Paper is archaic,” she said. “And these files are already all digitized. I could solve this more quickly if I had access to a computer. I could search them quickly and even craft a little app to find patterns between them.”

  That was a thought. There might be some kind of overlap between them.

  “Common names or locations,” she mused aloud.

  “But you aren’t going to have a computer in this office ever again, or even have a phone while you are at The Phoenix,” Rex reiterated patiently. “You have proven yourself to be untrustworthy.”

  “But…”

  “Prove otherwise,” he invited and returned his attention to his laptop.

  He was probably playing Angry Birds or something that was a similar waste of technology. Amy pursed her lips and considered the pile of files again. In the absence of a plan, she needed a system. She had to satisfy three of these apparently impossible sexual fantasies to earn her chops, so to speak. It didn’t matter which ones to Rex and Athena, and really, they were equally as tough. Amy had been through the whole pile twice already.

  She closed her eyes and rummaged through the file, determined to solve whichever one she picked blindly.

  Great. It was the woman who wanted one last night with her dead lover.

  “How good are your connections?” she asked Rex.

  He glanced at the file and smiled. “Not that good. You’re on your own.”

  “It’s not that uncommon of a fantasy, though, is it?” Amy asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “People always want a second chance, or the opportunity to say something they should have said before it was too late.” She was thinking about sending that picture of Rex to Michelle and that she shouldn’t have done it. Amy was seldom impulsive, and she’d learned not to be in future. Rex wouldn’t be so angry with her if she hadn’t done that. She might not have had to beg her way back in here.

  The man just had an ability to really tick her off.

  Rex closed his laptop and turned to face her. Amy couldn’t help but arch her back a little and preen beneath the weight of his gaze, even as she wished he was seeing her and not her sister Joanna.

  “You’re right,” he said, his tone so thoughtful that she wondered what incident came to his mind. “We always want to take things back, or try again, but when the person has died, any opportunity is lost forever.” He arched a brow. “It’s quite a romantic fantasy, really, to have one more night, to reunite with the dead.”

  “To make things right.” Amy dared to look up and meet Rex’s gaze. “Would you want one more night?”

  “With Michelle?” He winced. “I don’t think I could make that right.”

  Amy immediately felt guilty for her part in the destruction of his partnership.

  “I think she’s crazy,” she said with a heat that wasn’t entirely about Michelle’s choices. “I’d do pretty much anything to have you commit to me.” She nearly bit her tongue, then, amazed that she’d uttered the words aloud.

  Rex leaned forward, his elbows braced on his knees and his eyes glittering. “There you go again,” he said softly. “Promising everything you’ve got for another wish to come true. You’ve got to learn to be less impulsive.”

  “I know.” Amy dropped her gaze to the floor.

  Rex put a finger under her chin, compelling her to look into the wonderful green of his eyes. Her chest squeezed so tightly that she could barely breathe. “What do you really want, Amy?” he asked, sounding like he really wanted to know. “What would you really give anything to have?”

  Amy swallowed, feeling that a great deal was in the balance. She decided she didn’t have much to lose. “I want you to look at me and not see my sister, Joanna. I want you to want me for myself, strengths and weaknesses, good and bad, just the way I want you for yourself.”

  “Honesty,” Rex said and raised his eyebrows. He leaned back, lacing his fingers together behind his head as he surveyed her, still smiling slightly. “Or the appearance of it, anyway.”

  “That is what I want,” Amy insisted. “That’s why I came here. I want to learn how to be a dominatrix, but I want you to teach me. I want to play every sexual game there is with you, Rex. I’d say I wanted to be Athena, but you don’t want her either, not really.”

  His smile faded and he studied her so steadily that she felt goose pimples rise on her skin. Just when she was going to turn away, he leaned forward again, that mesmerizing green gaze boring into her own. “You have promise, Amy, and you have spirit. If you really try, and put everything into it instead of trying to get by with half-measures, your fantasy just might come true.”

  “Might?”

  “Domination isn’t about power, Amy,” he murmured. “It’s about wish fulfillment.”

  Amy frowned, because she didn’t understand.

  “It’s about knowing what your sub wants,” Rex whispered. He reached out and touched her cheek, then let his finger trail down her neck. “It’s about fulfilling fantasies and making secret dreams come true.” He drew a circle in the curve of her collarbone, his touch sending tingles through her, then let his fingers ease down to slide over her nipple. His nail slid over the taut peak, making Amy gasp. “It’s about giving someone what they really want, even before they know to ask for it.”

  Amy was ready to beg for Rex to show her how it was done. They sat in silence, gazes locked, his hand on her breast and her pulse leaping. There enough electricity in the air between them to light London for a weekend, and Amy didn’t want the moment to end.

  At least, she only wanted it to end one way. She licked her lips and Rex’s eyes brightened. He started to say something and she leaned toward him…

  The front door to the house slammed and they both jumped. The sound of Athena speaking to Rick carried into the office and Amy knew it would only be a moment before the woman strode into the room, all drama and affection for Rex. Rex turned back to his laptop and Amy heaved an audible sigh, not caring if he heard it. He made no indication that he had.

  She eyed the file in her hands.

  The romance of having secret wishes fulfilled.

  A chance to do it over.

  A reunion with the dead.

  Then she had an idea. Windswept Island, one property of The Phoenix, was a Victorian fantasy island. Hadn’t the Victorians a
nd the Edwardians been crazy for séances and mediums? Could she use technology to make a séance even more real?

  The idea was exciting. She would need an actor and some effects…

  “You look like you have an idea,” Rex mused. He was doing that thing of pretending to be indifferent, but Amy saw the flicker of interest in his eyes.

  “A séance. An illusion.” Amy flicked through the file, reading the application again, then looked up at Rex. “If I had a computer, I could Google her to get more helpful details.”

  She knew it was crazy to hope he’d hand her his laptop.

  “You could,” Rex said without looking up. “Discipline comes in many forms, Amy.” He gestured her toward the huge filing cabinet that filled the opposite wall. “Have at it,” he said, that thread of amusement in his tone.

  Paper!

  “Are they sorted at all?”

  “Alphabetical by surname,” Rex said. “Paid and booked in the bottom drawer. Fulfilled are filed in my desk drawer. The rest are all open for fulfillment.”

  Amy slid open the top drawer and her heart sank at the hundreds of file folders jammed into that one drawer.

  “Lucky for you, we’re just getting started,” Rex said and smiled.

  He was loving this. Discipline in many forms, hmm? More like punishment, with barbaric technology. Amy gritted her teeth and started to search manually through the applications. She might as well read them all, just in case one of them gave her a better idea.

  She supposed the upside was that however long this took, she’d get to stay at the Phoenix for the duration. She looked through her lashes at Rex, realized he was watching her but pretending not to. She flicked her hair over her shoulder, bit her lip and stood on her toes to reach into the top drawer.

  Maybe she could tempt him to take her in hand himself.

  “I don’t suppose you remember any actors?” she asked.

  “Actors?” Rex echoed.

  “Ideally one who wanted to disappear into someone else’s identity.” Amy shrugged, fully expecting Rex to deny her any crumbs. “Maybe, you know, become a dead guy for a week. Rattle chains in the attic. Jump an old girlfriend in the night. Fuck with people’s minds and play with illusion.”

  Rex chuckled.

  Amy glanced up to see that he’d turned his laptop around so that the screen was displayed to her. He wasn’t playing Angry Birds at all. He had an application pulled up, with the guy’s picture displayed.

  “Meet Devon,” he invited. Amy crossed the room in a flash and would have seized the laptop but Rex held up a finger. “Read the paper application,” he scolded.

  Amy got his full name and location, scanned his fantasy, then Rex hid the file from view. She was back at the cabinet pulling out Devon’s application in record time.

  “This could work,” she whispered, her excitement rising.

  “Only in the short term,” Rex counseled and frowned. “Isn’t she from Seattle?”

  Amy nodded. Rex drummed his fingers and began to type quickly.

  Amy was excited to be solving this with Rex and spared a glance at him.

  He tapped to send the message then turned to consider her. “It’s all about secrets, Amy,” he murmured and leaned closer. “It’s all about knowing what people really want.” Amy’s mouth went dry as their gazes locked and held, and she wondered whether Rex might reward her…

  “Good evening, Rex. Working hard, as always?” Athena swept into the room in that moment. The co-owner of the club crossed the office in her thigh-high black patent boots, threw one leg over Rex, sat in his lap and kissed him as if she’d suck him dry.

  In a heartbeat, they might both have forgotten that Amy was in the room. Filled with jealousy, she turned back to her files.

  She was going to nail this.

  Chapter One

  Going to Windswept with Caitlyn had to be the stupidest thing Zach had ever done.

  It was a disaster waiting to happen. It was the most likely decision to shred his heart into little bits and scatter them to the wind. It could blow his cover. He had to pretend to be dragged along as a favor to a friend, and disguise his interest in Rex’s new venture.

  All the same, he couldn’t not do it. First, Caitlyn had asked him to do her a favor by accompanying her to the fulfillment of her fantasy. Secondly, Rex had called him out of the blue. How like Rex to guess that Zach was ready for a more permanent arrangement.

  How like Rex to guess he would be attracted to Caitlyn. Rex hadn’t known they knew each other, at least not officially, but Zach had wondered before whether Rex knew more than he let on. Zach couldn’t see how The Phoenix could fulfill both his and Caitlyn’s fantasies, but he wasn’t going to turn down the opportunity.

  Even if it meant more lies between himself and Caitlyn.

  Zach was curious as to how Rex and his team intended to bring Luke back from the dead. It was possible he’d be able to console Caitlyn some more. It was possible he’d meet someone here that distracted him from Caitlyn, although that seemed unlikely. It was possible he’d enjoy a few hot scenes that would give him some release.

  He couldn’t even imagine that he might have a scene with Caitlyn. The very idea made him dizzy.

  But there was no denying that just being on Windswept had him pumped. He felt that familiar tingle, the one that had sparked whenever he’d gone to The Plume. His body was ready to play.

  Maybe they were going to deliver Caitlyn to him on a silver platter.

  That would work for Zach.

  Zach stood in his room in the manor on Windswept Island and marveled at his own reflection. He looked like a totally different guy, now that he was dressed as a late nineteenth century gentleman.

  If nothing else, The Phoenix made it authentic. They’d spared no expense in making a visit to the island a journey back in time. He should have expected as much. Rex was all about the details. Zach had been looking hard since his arrival hours before, expecting to catch them on some detail, but he hadn’t found one yet. Once the helicopter had dropped them off at the receiving station, they’d changed clothes and stepped out the other side of the building to the horse and carriage awaiting them, there was no hint that the twentieth century had even happened. The helicopter had been out of view by then, and out of earshot.

  There had only been the sound of the horses, the wind, and the sea.

  It was creepy in a way that Rex could make the illusion so complete.

  It made him wonder if they really would pull off Caitlyn’s fantasy, after all.

  Zach’s clothes were kind of cool, if a lot of trouble compared to his usual jeans and T-shirt. He was dressed in black and shades of gray, with a crisp white shirt. The dark wool trousers must have been made to his measurements—now he understood the instruction to visit a particular tailor—because they fit perfectly. His black boots gleamed and were buttoned up the side. His vest was the only colorful part of his attire, and was a plaid in silver and blue made of shiny fabric. He even had a silver pocket watch, which hung on a chain from his vest pocket, and silver cuff links for his shirt. He’d worn a black hat and a long dark coat to the house, but now his valet—his valet!—was offering a dark frock coat for dinner.

  Zach let the man help him into the jacket and, in the spirit of the moment, chose a white rose from the bouquet on the table in front of the window for his buttonhole. His valet whisked the bloom out of his fingertips, did some magic with the stem, and had it inserted in his buttonhole before Zach could say “boo.”

  “Very dashing, sir,” he said and bowed.

  “Thank you.” Zach tried to recall how people talked to servants in the period dramas Caitlyn liked to watch. “And you are…?”

  “Fletcher, sir.” The younger man smiled, a familiar light of invitation in his eyes. He was good looking, of the blond bodybuilder type, and but Zach was more interested in women. The fact was that everyone he’d seen here was physically gorgeous, just as they had been at The Plume. “You’ve only to ring
for me, sir.” Fletcher gestured to the bell-pull on the wall, and Zach was glad for once to have sat through those movies with Caitlyn because he knew what it was.

  “Great,” he said, then caught himself. “I mean, excellent. Thank you, Fletcher. I shall see you after dinner, no doubt.”

  “Very good, sir. The dining room is to the right when you reach the bottom of the stairs, although no doubt Stapleton will be there to show all of you the way.” He bowed again, then slipped out the door, leaving Zach alone for the first time.

  It was weird to have another man help him to dress, that was for sure, but he supposed it offered possibilities for those inclined to play on that team.

  Zach eyed the room, with the heavy velvet drapes surrounding the poster bed, the fire in the grate on the opposite wall, the Persian carpet and pair of comfortable chairs before the fire. It was comfortable and luxurious, all done in shades of burgundy and gold, with dark wood furniture. The pair of windows looked out over the island, and he took a peek, certain the drapes would be closed by the time he returned. He couldn’t see much, just a distant wood and some outbuildings, with a paddock for horses. The “horses” pulling the carriage had actually been men in harness, another fantasy that had nothing to do with Zach’s inclinations, but it was interesting. The sky was getting dark, so presumably everyone was inside.

  There was an oil lamp on the table beside the bed and the golden light made the room look cozy despite its generous size and high ceiling. The room wasn’t a perfect rectangle, which seemed both eccentric and authentic. There was a massive armoire with a mirrored door closest to the door to the room, and Zach looked inside it only to find more clothes undoubtedly tailored for him.

  There was even a carpetbag, as if he’d brought them here himself.

  He shook his head in amazement. What about a bathroom? There was only one door in the room other than the entrance, and it was located past the bed, near the windows.

  It was also locked. Did it go to an adjoining room?