Not far off. I can be with you soon.
Just then, Andrei comes back into the room and I tuck my phone away. He begins to talk to the abbot, obviously thanking him and preparing him to leave because the next moment, the bodyguard is showing all the monks to the front door. When we’re alone, Andrei turns to me and smiles.
‘I’m glad that was resolved without too much trouble. Aren’t you?’
‘Yes,’ I say sincerely. ‘Thank you for sorting it out.’
‘It’s in my interests too. Let me know when you’ve managed to transfer the money, won’t you?’
I nod. I’m dying to get out of there and over to the boudoir but I don’t want Andrei to guess at my impatience.
‘How is Mark?’ He walks over to the drinks cabinet and opens it. He pours out measures of vodka into two crystal glasses and adds ice from a silver ice bucket, and some slices of lemon. He passes one to me even though I haven’t asked for it.
‘He’s doing as well as we can hope,’ I reply. ‘I don’t know when he’ll be out of hospital. He’s still very weak, but he’ll need to begin his course of radiotherapy soon.’
Andrei nods and sips his vodka. He stares at me from under those hooded lids. I can feel myself becoming more anxious. Dominic is in London – I don’t know why or when he arrived, but he’s definitely here – and my compulsion to be with him is something I don’t think I can fight.
‘Are you all right, Beth?’ Andrei says. ‘You seem a little on edge.’
‘I’m fine. Really.’
‘I hope we can put the matter of the Fra Angelico behind us now. I’ve got some new ideas for our next collaboration. You’ve done marvellous work here on my London home. I’m very happy with it.’ He smiles at me.
I return it though I know my own smile is weak. All I can think about is that Dominic is waiting for me – or for Rosa – just a short distance away. Not being able to go to him is unbearable.
‘So . . .’ He swirls the vodka in his glass and the ice chinks against it. ‘I’d like you to do the same to my Manhattan apartment. My decorators have not long finished refreshing it and I’d like you to bring your eye to it.’ He gazes at me, assessing my reaction. ‘What do you think? Does the idea of a few weeks in New York appeal to you?’
I try to absorb this news. A few weeks in New York? That’s so weird. Before I think better of it, I say, ‘I’m going there next week.’
Andrei raises an eyebrow at me. ‘Really? What a coincidence.’
‘A weekend away with my flatmate,’ I say. ‘A girl thing.’
He looks amused. ‘Shopping and cocktails? I believe that’s what you mean by “a girl thing”.’ He shoots me a sardonic glance. ‘I approve. Well, as long as you are there, you must visit my apartment and take a look around. If you want the job, I’d love you to start as soon as you can in the new year. And if you want to attend some auctions on my behalf, you can do that too. I’m prepared to put down a big budget if you find the right pieces. I trust your taste, I’m sure you’ll select what I want.’
I stare at him. Oh my God, how wonderful. This is a dream job, and it means that he has decided that no matter what happened over the Fra Angelico, he’s prepared to keep Mark as his art adviser. I imagine what it might be like: staying in New York, shopping at the auction houses with a virtually unlimited budget and working through Andrei’s art collection. If it’s anything like his London one, it will be full of treasures. What an amazing opportunity . . .
Wait. You can’t do this.
I can’t stay in Andrei’s orbit. Dominic wouldn’t be able to stand it but that’s not the only reason. Andrei’s made it clear that he has intentions towards me, and this job is probably part of his plan to reel me in. I’m not interested in him that way, and no matter how great the job, if I accept it I’ll also be accepting his terms and letting him get close to me on a personal level. I’ll be implying I want a relationship.
Great. My perfect job comes with strings attached.
I open my mouth to refuse but something stops me. I can see Mark on his hospital bed, so weak and ill. I can’t risk Andrei taking against me while Mark is still so frail. When he’s stronger, in a few weeks’ time, then I can finally extricate myself. Until then, I’ll have to play a waiting game.
‘That sounds incredible,’ I say, and I don’t have to pretend – that much is true. ‘I’ll have a look while I’m in New York and we can take it from there. I’ll need to talk to Mark, of course, and make sure he’s happy for me to take some weeks away from the office.’
Andrei’s laser-beam gaze is fixed on me and I feel sure he can read my mind. He’s wondering why I’m not leaping at this opportunity and saying yes right away. After regarding me carefully for a moment, he says, ‘Why don’t we discuss it over dinner? I have a table at the Caprice, if you’d like to join me.’
‘Oh . . . I . . . I can’t. I have plans.’
‘Plans?’
I nod. ‘I’m meeting a friend.’
‘I see.’ Andrei walks over to the fireplace and leans against it. He turns to look at me. ‘A friend who arrived this evening from Paris?’
My mouth drops open. I stare at him, speechless. How the hell do you know that?
He replies as if he can read my mind. ‘I make it my business to know what certain people are doing – where they are and where they’re going. I can’t afford to take my eye off anyone who is threatening my business. I’m sure you understand that.’ He puts his drink down on the chimney shelf and walks towards me. ‘I thought I told you that he is no good for you. I mean it, Beth. You can’t be involved with us both. I told you you’d have to make that choice and I understood that you’d decided you want to stay with me.’ He gives me an icy look. ‘You can’t serve two masters.’
I have a vivid flashback to Dominic and hear his voice saying, ‘Tell Rosa I am a loving master if she is a willing and obedient maid.’
But Dominic is only my master in the bedroom, when we choose to enact that scenario. Out of it, we are equal. Whereas Andrei wants me to obey him in every aspect of my life, and that’s something I could never do. Fury rushes through me at his arrogance.
You bastard, how dare you force me to make this choice? My romantic life has nothing to do with you and you’re confusing my role as a professional with something completely different.
Dominic wants me out of Andrei’s life because he wants to protect me. Andrei wants me to drop Dominic so that he can control and manipulate me. I want to tell him exactly where he can go, in no uncertain terms. But I can’t. Not yet.
‘Okay,’ I say quietly.
‘Okay?’ Andrei looks surprised at how easily I’ve submitted to him. He gives me a sideways look. ‘So . . . you’ll come for dinner with me?’
‘Not tonight,’ I reply firmly. ‘I have to see him. I need to explain.’
Andrei’s face goes cold and hard. ‘I don’t want you associating with that snake. He’s a fucking traitor.’
No, Andrei, you’re the traitor. You’re also a massive egotist who can’t take rejection in any form, not even when a loyal employee explains he wants the chance to make it on his own. You can’t take the fact that I keep turning you down for another man.
‘Let me tell him that,’ I say. ‘Don’t you like that idea?’
He hesitates and then says, ‘I do – but I’m surprised you’re prepared to dump him without putting up more of a fight.’
I think quickly. ‘Dominic’s made me no promises. I can’t rely on him. Whenever there’s any trouble between us, he disappears. Besides that, he’s fucked up. I expect Anna told you that. I’ve tried to reach him and help him, but nothing seems to work. I can’t commit to someone so unstable.’
Oh my God, it sounds so plausible. I had no idea I might feel like that. Do I?
‘All right,’ Andrei says, looking pleased. Perhaps he wants to believe me. ‘You’d better keep your appointment. But I’m keeping my eye on Dominic. I have no choice now that’s he set himself up
against me. You can tell him that if you want to.’ He glares at me. ‘I don’t like the thought of you being with him.’
‘I have to see him this time.’ I return Andrei’s gaze, not blinking.
His mouth twists slightly as though in distaste. ‘Go on then. Get it over with.’
Once I’m out of Albany House, I begin to run, dodging the Christmas shoppers and dashing across roads. I want to get away from Andrei as fast as I can.
How is it possible that this has got even more complicated?
I’m chilled by the idea that Andrei knows that Dominic is in the country. Does his web of control really extend that far? How far is he willing to go to keep tabs on the people who interest him? I feel a stab of fear and wonder if someone is following me, watching me at this very moment. I glance around but I can’t see anyone trailing me as I run through the crowds and across Berkeley Square.
All I want is to be with Dominic. My phone buzzes and I pull it out to look at the text:
Rosa is late. She’ll be punished.
Dominic wants me too. Or does he want Rosa? Or are we the same person? My skin prickles as I imagine what my master might have in mind for me at the boudoir. All I care about is that Dominic wants Rosa, and I intend him to have her.
‘Come in.’
The voice comes softly from the darkness inside the hall of the boudoir. I step into the blackness, panting from my hurried journey. I can’t see anything. I hear the slap of leather against the palm of a hand, and I pull in a hot breath.
‘You’re late. You’ve made me wait. You know how I feel about that.’ Dominic’s voice is low and caressing but threaded through with authority.
‘Yes, sir.’ I’m already throbbing with desire and the tickling excitement of not knowing what might be going to happen to me. I have faith that my master wants me to experience the pleasure of pain and the pain of pleasure, but that, finally, the delights of what he does to me will triumph. I’m not Beth any more. I’m Rosa, the willing, the humble, the submissive maid who will take everything her master wishes for her.
‘Kneel on the floor.’
I drop to my knees and let my head fall down, and I close my eyes.
‘Take off your coat.’
I obey, sliding it from my shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. I hear footsteps. Dominic is moving away from me. There is the snap and flare of a match lighting and then a candle is lit. It sends flickering shadows all over the room but I keep my head down.
‘Now – take off your clothes.’
Keeping my humble kneeling stance as much as I can, I unbutton my shirt and slide my skirt off, wriggling out of it and slipping off my shoes at the same time. I’m in my bra and knickers and a pair of woollen winter tights.
My master approaches me, evidently savouring the sight of me kneeling on the floor in my underwear with soft golden candlelight playing over my skin. He comes down and kneels beside me. He has a pair of scissors in his hand, I can see them glinting in the half-light. He runs the other hand over the back of my neck, brushing my hair out of the way as he smooths his palm over my shoulders and down my spine.
‘Beautiful Rosa,’ he whispers. ‘You’re all mine, aren’t you?’
I nod.
‘Look at your breasts, the way they fill that bra of yours. They’re so luscious and gorgeous. I want to see them.’ He takes the scissors and presses the point against my upper chest, not enough to hurt but enough to make me gasp with surprise. ‘Don’t worry, Rosa, I won’t hurt you. I want to see your body.’ He runs the point of the blades gently down to my breasts, into my cleavage and then up over the mound of my left breast. The tickling point makes an electric trail across my skin. He takes it over the fabric of my bra, circling it round my nipple, which hardens immediately, sticking out under the soft material. ‘There it is,’ he says softly. ‘It’s giving you away, Rosa. It shows me that you like this.’ Then, deftly, he turns the blades and slices away the cup of my bra, revealing one breast. He drops his mouth and takes my hard nipple into it, sucking hard and nibbling at the sensitive tip. When he releases it, he says, ‘That’s beautiful, so delicious. I could suck all day on your nipples. They taste like honey.’
My sex is rippling with excitement, twitching beneath me as it swells and grows damp with desire. He takes the scissors again and cuts away the other cup of my bra, giving the other breast the same loving treatment with his tongue and teeth.
‘Much better,’ he says, pulling away from me and staring at my breasts, the nipples wet with his saliva. ‘But there’s more to be done. Kneel up, Rosa.’
I obey, aware that I’m wearing my thick black tights. I had no idea when I put them on that I’d be seeing Dominic that day, or I would have worn something sexier. He observes me and I keep my neck bent, my head drooping down and my arms beside me.
‘I like your underwear,’ he says softly. ‘Very suitable for you, Rosa. Nothing too fancy. But perhaps we could make these a little more . . . accessible.’
He takes the blade of the scissors and runs the point over my hips. The sensation is almost unbearable: tickling, tormenting. I want to buck and wriggle underneath that point but I try to stay still – I know that’s what he wants. I can’t help breathing hard and trembling a little as the blade swoops and dives downwards to my sex, skimming across the top of the mound there. I can’t stop a little moan escaping as the sensation makes me throb and contract in tiny, tickling convulsions. Desire is racing through my veins like lava down a hillside, setting everything inside me burning. Dominic runs the point of the blade over my other hip in a long swirling motion.
Oh God, I had no idea he could make me feel like this with that one sharp point . . .
Then he snaps the blades apart with a shearing sound, pulls the waistband of my tights away from my skin and begins to cut with a strong, regular motion. He slices downwards from my waist to my thigh, then turns the blades and cuts carefully around my upper thigh. ‘Nearly done,’ he murmurs, and starts again from the other side, slicing down and then cutting around the circumference of my other leg. The waist and gusset of my tights have now completely disappeared, leaving the legs sliding down towards my knees. ‘Not quite finished yet,’ he says and I sense him smiling. He takes the remnants he’s cut off me and rips two strips from them. He uses first one and then the other to tie my tights on around my thighs so that I have makeshift black garters holding up what are now black woollen stockings.
‘Perfect,’ he says, observing his handiwork with satisfaction. ‘Just as I wanted. But . . .’ He takes up the scissors again and points that treacherous tickling blade at my white knickers. ‘There’s still something that needs my attention.’
I can feel that the white cotton is already wet with my juices, and I’m sure he can see that. He pushes the point of the blade downwards, not hard enough to hurt me but enough so that I can feel its hardness against my soft lips beneath the fabric. God, that semi-sharpness is incredible. I can hardly believe I’m responding like this to the movement of a pair of scissors but I can barely stop myself edging my thighs apart to let him slide the points beneath me. My clit is pressing out against my knickers as though begging for attention. Oh, wow, this is amazing . . .
This time he doesn’t cut off what I’m wearing. Instead he plucks the wet fabric from the centre of my knickers and cuts out what’s between his fingers, deftly keeping the blade away from my skin. ‘Not quite enough, I can’t see all your charms,’ he remarks, and slices the blade further downwards so that he removes all the fabric that covers my sex. I’m entirely revealed now. ‘Very nice,’ he murmurs, leaning back to observe me.
I feel incredible. The slicing away has left me in tattered, shredded underwear, my breasts and my sex open to view, my tights left on as thick black stockings tied with ragged ribbons, but it feels like one of the sexiest things I’ve ever worn. I’m almost shuddering with the power of my arousal.
‘Rosa,’ he whispers. ‘So beautiful. So disobedient. You made me wait. Yo
u must learn not to do that.’ From behind him, he produces a large hard cushion that stands a ruler’s length proud of the floor and pushes it against my thighs. ‘Lean over that.’
I do as he says, wrapping my arms around the cushion. He gets up and walks around behind me. ‘Push your bottom in the air,’ he says. I thrust it upwards.
Those scissors press against my buttocks again, and then they are chopping at the back of my knickers. I feel my buttocks are bare to him. There is not much left of my knickers now: the elastic and some tattered cotton.
‘Time for your punishment, Rosa.’
The first touch is soft, something tickling and gentle, swiping over my bottom. I realise it’s a long tail of hair being played over my skin. I sigh a little. It’s pleasant and soft but I know that means something else must be coming. Sure enough, the tail of hair leaves me, but only for a moment. An instant later, it slaps down on the skin of my bottom with a flicking hiss.
‘Oh!’ I cry, but more from surprise than pain. It stings but not enough to cause any real hurt. Another blow lands on my rear, flicking across the centre of my buttocks. The biting little stings prickle everywhere, setting my bottom glowing.
‘Let me know that it’s working, Rosa,’ says my master.
I press my bottom upwards and say, ‘I deserve my punishment, sir.’
He brings another stinging flick down on my skin and I cry out, ‘Ow! Ow, sir, you’re hurting your Rosa!’
‘Because I love her,’ he says in a kind voice. ‘But she must learn her lesson.’
Thwack. The tail of hair hits hard, some of the hairs finding hot little places across my sex. It hurts more, but I can’t help responding to the bite, arching my back as it hits me. Oh God, it’s making me so incredibly aroused that I want to press against the cushion to alleviate the desperate need mounting between my legs and in my swollen clit.
Promises After Dark (After Dark Book 3) Page 9
