Evernight Publishing
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2013 Raven McAllan
ISBN: 978-1-77130-431-3
Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs
Editor: Marie Medina
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
To Doris, for her support, nagging, and rediting, and Michaela for her virtual wine and coffee.
To Jayne Yatchak, Carla Lopez, and Ekaterina Sayanova for their invaluable help.
To Marie and Evernight Publishing. Without you all, this story wouldn't be here.
And of course, to Paul, love you.
Thank you all
MASTER
Dommissimma, 1
Raven McAllan
Copyright © 2013
PART ONE
Flashback
Chapter One
Cade wandered the house, room to room, the letter in his hand. One word, one fucking word. A simple and stark 'no'. Why?
She'd seemed happy … okay, he allowed, maybe not exactly happy, but fine with things. Accepting some things and asking a lot of questions about others. However, that was always a good thing, yes?
Not, in this case no. A big sodding on your bike, mate, take a hike no.
Nothing of her remained. Well yes, he allowed, everything he'd bought was still there. But her? Her essence, herself? That was one big bloody no. Not even a hint of her perfume in the drawers or wardrobe. It was as if she'd never been there.
He ran his fingers over the top of the dressing table. No dust, but then there wasn't likely to be. She'd loved the antique piece he'd given her, telling him she'd never ever part with it, but she'd left it. Hell, she'd joked if he ever got fed up with her the dresser was part of her severance pay. He'd shown her just how unlikely that scenario was. Cade would have bet his best Shibari rope she'd enjoyed being persuaded.
Wrong again.
The fact she'd gone told Cade more than anything just how she'd cut herself off from him. How she couldn't accept him as he was and, he acknowledged, always would be.
For the first time in his adult life, Caden McCourt cried. Big heaving sobs that racked his body.
And strangely for him, he didn't plot revenge.
****
Six Months Later
Anna Jason looked at the man in front of her and sighed. Thank god it's in a public place and Danny is here. This is so shite. She put on her best no nonsense take-no-crap voice. "Look, mate, I'm so not interested. No means no. Now piss off, I'm a barmaid, not a bedfellow."
The guy leaned forward and breathed beer fumes over her.
"You, listen you…" He didn't get any further before he was grabbed by the back of his neck and jerked backward. She watched as her brother—and boss—gave the man an earful and manhandled him to the door. Anna ran her trembling hands over her skirt. She couldn't do this. Who was she kidding, one skanky drunk and she was a shivering, quivering wreck.
Danny walked back to her, the obnoxious punter dispatched. He stared at her and touched her hand.
"Anna, my love, we need to talk."
That was what she was afraid of.
****
Fifteen Years Later
Anna Jason loved her job. No two ways about it. How she'd fallen into this perfect position she had no idea, but each and every day she gave thanks to the gods of difference. For the first time in more years than she cared to remember, Anna felt happy. Happy and safe. And when she thought of the place she felt safe in, Anna grinned to herself. It was one of life's little ironies.
The soft thud as a door closed made her look up from her computer screen. Ana smiled as her boss approached her desk, her heels so high it was a wonder she didn't need stabilizers.
"Okay, hon?" Linsey Mitchell was a take–no-prisoners Domme who had lifted Dommissima up by its garters from a mediocre Glasgow club to one of the premier—and most exclusive—private BDSM venues in Britain, if not Europe. She'd accepted Anna had no interest in her, her ladies, or—as she thought—the lifestyle, and everything had been good. Anna had been pleased about the first two and had no intention of elaborating on the third.
By day, Anna was a very efficient P.A. On certain nights, she manned the admittance desk and ran troubleshooting. As long as she didn't actually have to go into the club, she was happy. Outside the double doors was her domain, but inside was a no-go area. Even looking in their direction was enough to give her shivers. Sometimes she wondered what if … but ‘what if’ were two tiny words with very big meanings. She hadn't tried to find out what if, she'd run. Now with hindsight, she accepted it probably wasn't the best way to have handled her worries. Then it had seemed the only way. Coward’s way…
Linsey had put the word out that her P.A. was off limits, and her punters accepted that. No one ever wanted to cross that lady. Not if they wanted to live.
"Here's the details of the guy I was telling you about." Linsey waved the document in her hand. "It's a real coup getting him to agree to guest here, I tell you. Evidently, it’s a rare occurrence when he guests. He'll be here in a day or so to look round." She handed the slim file to Anna, who took it and started to read the typed pages. The name jumped out at Anna and spots floated in front of her eyes. There was a strange ringing noise in her ears; her pulse raced, and her skin went clammy.
Oh hell, don't let me faint. Not here, not now. Let me tell her. She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't form the words. A week, wavery croak was the best she could manage. Anna began to hyperventilate, and for the life of her couldn't stop.
"Anna, what's wrong?" Linsey pushed Anna's head down. "Take deep breaths, come on now, you're fine."
Am I? I'm not so sure. However, Anna did as Linsey told her and gradually the ringing disappeared, and her vision cleared. She gulped in air and wiped her forehead on the tissue Linsey handed to her.
"Don't move." Linsey left the office. Anna couldn't have moved if she tried. Her legs felt like jelly, and pins and needles bombarded her skin like tiny hailstones. Linsey re-entered the room and passed Anna a glass of water. "Drink it slowly and tell me what brought that on. Are you pregnant? Am I going to have to try to knit booties and have coal around for you to eat?"
That made Anna smile, albeit a somewhat small grin. "Not a snowball in hell’s chance of that. No, it's just you okayed this guy." She handed the form back, hoping her hands didn't shake.
Linsey scanned the form. "Yeah? Well, what's not to accept? I'm really over the moon with this. He's a well-respected Dom. Great form, even better credentials, and all his subs rave about him. We're honored to get him. He's very picky where he demonstrates and only does a couple of guest nights a year. He has the choice of anywhere in the world to go, and he chose to come here. I was gobsmacked, I tell you. We'd have them queuing to the border to get in if we advertised. What a coup. So, as I said, what’s not to accept? I should be genuflecting all the way to his base and back again."
Now how could she answer that?
With the truth.
"Linsey, maybe we need to sit down. With wine and an open mind." Anna bit her lip, and Linsey raised her eyebrow at the action.
Damn, I thought I'd stopped doing that ages ago. Anna looked at her boss and worried. No one knew her real history. Linsey knew more than most, and even her knowledge was sketchy, which was just as Anna wanted. However, maybe now
was the time to fess up? Perhaps the moment had come to tell her boss just why she was shaking like a leaf? With the decision made, Anna felt a great weight had lifted off her.
Her boss stared then gestured to the tiny room to one side of their office. That, for Linsey, was unusual. The snug was Linsey's oasis, and she'd told Anna that from the start. When she retreated there, it was because she needed space and time alone. No one, but no one, disturbed Linsey when she closeted herself behind that door. In the eighteen months Anna had worked for her, Anna had never ventured in. There had been no need. Everything that had to be done happened in their office. Even the hiring and firing. Not that there was a lot of that, as Linsey was a take-no-prisoners type of boss, but she was open and fair, and her staff loved her.
Now she had a speculative look on her face. "Whatever it is, we'll sort it." Linsey gave Anna a quick hug. "Damn, if you went for me, I'd soon take those shadows out of your baby blues. Come on, a glass of wine awaits us. The answering machine can pick up any phone calls. Nothing drastic will happen if people have to wait for an answer to whatever they need to know." She took hold of Anna's arm and led her out of the room and into the snug. That attitude alone made Anna realize how concerned Linsey was. Nothing but nothing took precedence over the running of the club.
In spite of the fact she felt sick, Anna looked around with interest. The room was tiny, with very few furnishings. A long wide sofa, perfect for naps, with soft pale cushions inviting you to sit and relax was placed along one wall facing an abstract picture of swirls of color. Next to it was a table with a couple of books on and an iPod and dock on it. There was very little else, except for a sink and a cupboard with a kettle on the surface and a fridge below.
"Sit." Linsey pushed her onto the settee and walked to the fridge. "What the hell, it's four p.m., and we're not open tonight. Thank goodness for Mondays." She poured two glasses of wine without waiting for Anna's answer and walked back to Anna. "Here, and okay, in your own time."
Anna took the glass and sipped the contents, even though she felt like drinking it in one large swallow. Maybe it was time for her to be open and honest. The thought of what Linsey might say brought the weight of worry back with a thump. In the true spirit of honesty, she hadn't been above board. Lies by omission were still lies, and to her shame she'd done plenty of them. She put the half full glass on the table before she drank it down. On a churning empty stomach, that might not be a good idea.
"I'm not sure just where to start." She bit her nail and realized what she was doing. "Damn. Okay, it's about a man."
"This man?" Linsey gestured to the file she'd brought through with her.
"Yeah." Anna grimaced. "That one."
"And?" Linsey prompted, when Anna fell silent again. "Why him? I know you don't like women in a sexual way. Hell, if you did, I'd have jumped you ages ago. You're adamant you want nothing to do with the workings or entertainments within the club, so … how the hell can you be so worried about this guy? He's a hot, respected Dom. He can pick and chose any sub he wants and they'd roll over and beg for him. So not your style, hon. You won't need to have anything to do with him." She patted Anna's hand. "Not if you really don't want to. However?" She winked.
Anna groaned inside. The thought of that particular man made her pulse race and her clit throb. Linsey had joked to Anna she knew what Anna really wanted, and if it wasn't Linsey or her ladies, then she knew a man it could be. What if this man was whom Linsey meant?
"Who decided he'd come here? Did you ask, or did he volunteer?" she asked Linsey.
Linsey raised her eyebrow, but answered readily. "That's the thing; he asked if we'd be interested in a tutorial and demo. Our reputation is very good, but for him to come? Well, that's almost like a royal seal of approval. He must rate us." The smile on her face showed how pleased she was. "And you know you're part of the reason we're so successful. You field all the niggles and annoyances and let me do my job. You're a true asset. And the result is we have a club that someone like him wants to work in."
If Linsey believed that, all well and good. However, Anna wasn't buttoned up the back, and she'd bet her last pound he'd chosen this club for a reason other than their success. Whatever Linsey said, Anna was damned sure it wouldn't be beneficial to herself.
"Er, I think maybe after you hear what I have to say, you might not be so sure I'm an asset." A thought struck her. "Linsey, my name isn't mentioned anywhere, is it? In the brochures or anything."
"No, why?" Linsey looked puzzled. "You know it's not. If anyone asks me I just call you Anna, and as we don't use surnames here, yours has never been mentioned." She stared at Anna, and her expression was speculative. "Look, hon, you're freaking me out here. Are you going to tell me what's wrong? I won't fire you, shout at you or even get too upset you've been keeping secrets. Ah come on." She grinned. "I know you've kept stuff back, but I reckoned as long as it didn't involve or affect Dommissima I wasn't worried."
"That's the problem. I've a horrid feeling it does. Your Dom, Cade McCourt." She paused, snatched up her wine glass, took a healthy swallow, and put the glass back down on the table before she spilled the contents. Then took a deep breath.
"My name isn't Anna, it's Diana."
"Well, I know that, it's on your application form. You said you preferred Anna. So?"
"So, that's my birth name, Diana Jason. My name for the last fifteen years or so has been McCourt. Diana McCourt. Caden McCourt is my husband."
****
Caden McCourt checked he had his bag of toys; his own personal goodies securely locked and put it in the compartment under the car seat. It made traveling that bit harder when he took it with him, but for this trip, it was, he decided, essential. He'd planned this visit carefully, and not without a lot of heart searching. Did he really want to open up that particular can of worms after all this time? He knew the answer had to be yes. Completion or resolution or whatever you wanted to call it was necessary. Cade thought it was a simple question—why?
The phone call from his long time friend and partner had come as a big surprise. One that had his heart pounding and his cock alert as memories bombarded him.
"Cade? You sitting down?" Daisy had sounded agitated, something very unusual for such a laid back person.
"I am now, why?" He sat down on his couch and crossed one ankle over the other, stretching the denim of his jeans over his long legs and flat stomach.
"Well." Now Daisy sounded flustered, which was also not like her.
"C'mon, Dais, spill it out. You've crashed your car? Lost the club in a card game? Decided you want to sub again for me?"
"No, you ass, none of that. Hell, Cade, I flew up here, don't play cards, and I'm happy playing around. Well until, you know…"
He knew.
"So?"
"So I've seen Diana," she blurted out. "In Glasgow. At the club I was taken to."
He'd almost dropped the phone. Talk about a bombshell.
"No. Not my Diana, not in a club, hell, Dais…" He stopped speaking, not sure how to go on.
"Yeah." He could hear the sympathy in her voice, and it hurt. "But seriously, Cade, it's her. She's calling herself Anna Jason, and she's the owner's P.A. as far as I can gather. Oh and evidently mans—or womans—the reception desk on occasions. And before you ask, I'm damned certain there's nothing between the two of them other than darned good friends. And I don't mean that in a wink, wink, nudge, nudge way either. You could see genuine friendship but not one spark of sexual awareness. But I'm sure it's her. She's just like the photo you have. Older, of course, but it's her I promise you."
As he locked the house and got into his car, Cade remembered just how his heart had pounded at Daisy's words and her subsequent explanation. The photo she described was the only one he dared keep out, and that was because every time he looked at it his heart—and his cock—swelled at the remembrance of the day. They'd gone for a long walk in the woods that were part of his property, and he'd Shibari-tied her before he took her
photo. The sun had filtered through the leaves, and she'd been bathed in the rays, her long red hair down her back, and her beautiful body enhanced by the intricate patterns of the design he'd dressed her in. Cade did his best to banish the thought and deflate his prick, as he switched the car engine on. The sooner he found out if it was her, then the sooner he'd get answers—he hoped.
Daisy had often mentioned an old friend of hers who now owned a very exclusive club that she'd been invited to visit and have a look around. She'd flown up to Glasgow for a few days, and he'd received her phone call on the following day.
He still hadn't believed her until a somewhat blurred photo had followed. Then he did accept that it was Diana. And irony of all ironies she worked for a BDSM club. After all she'd said—or he thought—not said.
As he turned onto the motorway north, Cade went over his preparations. He had no false modesty about his talents, or about the fact he’d known Dommissima would jump at the chance of an exhibition from him in any of his preferred skills. They had, and now he was hours away from meeting Diana again.
What am I looking for? Answers? Explanations? Yes, he allowed as he overtook a long distance coach and set the cruise control to the maximum speed limit, there was that. Even deeper though was the need to find out whether or not she was happy. Plus a thought he was reluctant to recognize: did she have a man in her life? Or, more than that, a Dom who satisfied her as he hadn't been able to? That would be his worst-case scenario. That somehow he as a Dom and a man had failed her, and she hadn't been able to tell him.
His car ate up the miles. The motorway wasn't over busy, and with only a short stop for fuel Cade completed his journey in good time. Finding the apartment Daisy had rented for him—even if his visit was brief, Cade preferred the privacy of his own space—was no trouble. By early evening he was inspecting his new accommodation.
Master Page 1
