Slash placed his forehead against mine and we stood there for a moment in silence. “I’m not alone with you,” he finally murmured. “Never.”
“No, you’re not.” I took a deep breath. “I want you to know I understand and accept the risks of being with you. I’m with you because I want to be—danger and all. But it goes both ways, okay? Little black cloud and me, remember? I’m no walk in the park to be with either.”
He laughed softly. “Ah, cara, how I adore you.”
I took his hand. “Come on. I have a surprise for you.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “For me?”
“Yes. Would you mind taking my bag back to the bedroom?”
“Of course.” Holding my bag, he headed down the hall. I followed him. He set my bag on the bed and when he turned around, I unbuttoned my raincoat and let it slip to the floor.
Slash took a step backward, his expression a mix of shock and surprise. His lips wavered as though collecting his thoughts, but all that slipped out was “Cara?”
I glanced down to make sure I hadn’t dislodged any part of the black leather dominatrix mini-dress I’d ordered off the internet. The front V, barely held together with black leather strings, plunged to my navel. Everything looked good, so I shifted to display the leather back, which barely fit over my butt and had the same plunging V.
Slash’s expression shifted from surprise to, well, confusion. Not at all what I’d expected.
I tried not to let it unnerve me. I stood confidently, dominantly, and pretended not to be worried I wasn’t meeting his expectations. Instead I stretched out my arms to accentuate the black leather bindings from my elbows to my wrists, and casually shifted my legs farther apart so the dark fishnet stockings attached to a pair of barely-there underwear stood out. Leaning forward, I slowly stroked the riding crop in my hand up the side of one leather stiletto boot that reached just over my kneecap and pursed my lips at him in what I hoped was the same sexy, sultry expression the online model had worn.
Now his brows raised and he gave me something akin to a wicked smile...at least I hoped it was that and not a stomachache from our spicy dinner or the little show I was putting on for him.
I cracked the riding crop. The sound was overly loud in the room. “Are you ready for this, Slash?” I put one hand on my hip and lowered my voice. “Lick my toes. Now.”
I was beyond nervous by this point, but I knew the most important part of the roleplaying was confidence, so I kept my gaze steely and my mouth set in a firm line.
Slash opened his mouth, shut it, and then tried to say something again without success. My confidence began to flag.
Finally he held up a time-out signal with his hands. “Okay, I’m not sure what precipitated this, and honestly I’m beyond intrigued at this development, but why? I know this has to be way out of your comfort zone.”
Sighing, I strode over to the bed and sat down. He sat down next to me. I put the riding crop across my lap and fiddled with the lash.
“I just wanted you to know I’m ready for the Red Room. I know I’m not the most experienced woman in terms of sexual experimentation and exploring my femininity and all of that, but if you want to try it, I’m all for it. If it’s important to you, it’s important to me.”
Slash picked up the crop and studied it. “Exactly what Red Room are you talking about?”
I pointed toward his hallway. “That one.”
“You thought I had a Red Room in there?”
“You don’t?”
His lips twitched and then he started to laugh. He laughed so hard tears leaked from his eyes.
I rose from the bed. “Fine. I take it all of this means that is not a Red Room.”
He tried to say something and then erupted into more laughter. I watched in astonishment. Finally he managed to gain control of himself and wiped at the tears at his eyes.
I crossed my arms against my chest. “Okay, fine. You can stop laughing now. I’ll just take this off.”
I turned away, but his hand snaked out, his fingers circling around my leather glove. His expression was still amused, but now I saw something glittering in his eyes.
“You certainly will not.” He paused to catch his breath. “I’m not laughing at you, cara. I’m laughing at how my stubbornness caused this misunderstanding. Trust me, I’ve a lot more to say on this subject. But first I want you to know how touched I am you love me enough to do this. Since I know you, I’m certain this involved a lot of research—including buying the outfit and equipment—and practicing. That alone pleases me more than I can adequately express and is perhaps the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me.”
I studied him. “Really? Because in all honesty, Slash, I’m not sure about this BDSM roleplaying thing. I’m okay with bossing you around. I think I could be good at that. But I’m pretty certain I’m going to come out of the role or forget all the lines I memorized. I’m more nervous than expected. Not to mention the pain thing. I did create a proper spreadsheet containing the velocity for the whip and the potential pain thresholds, depending on the activity, and committed them to memory.” I pulled out a tiny folded piece of paper I’d tucked between my breasts and handed it to him. “I’m just not sure I could trust myself to do it correctly, you know, in the heat of the moment. Sometimes my brain doesn’t work properly when you do...well, what you do. I don’t want you to get injured because I’m clumsy.”
He looked like he might start laughing again, but instead he ran a finger down the V of my dress letting it rest just above my navel. “There’s one thing you should know. I would never hurt you. Never. And despite this misunderstanding, I’m finding this entire situation quite stimulating.” He slid his hand over my arm and down to my hip where he let it rest. “But first I want to show you what’s in that room.”
I took a step back. “No, Slash, you don’t have to. This wasn’t meant to force you into revealing what’s in that room. I sincerely thought it was a sex room. I’m serious. If I’m not ready for whatever is in there, then I respect your judgment.”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry I ever gave you the impression that you weren’t ready. That’s on me. What’s in that room is not about you and your readiness. It’s about mine. It’s my reluctance, until now, to let my guard down even with you—the person I love.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will. The time is finally right for me. This is what I’ve wanted to share with you. Come with me. Please.”
I hesitated and then followed. There was something in his expression—an openness I hadn’t seen before. I wasn’t sure what to make of it, but I trusted him.
Slash reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. After selecting one, he put it in the lock and turned the doorknob. To my surprise, the door opened outward instead of inward. Behind the first door was another door, a steel door with a biometric pad, a numeric password and what looked like a retinal scan.
I looked at him in surprise. “Wow. I totally didn’t see that coming. A safe room?”
He endured the dual retinal scan before he spoke. “Yes.” He tapped in a code and said something in Italian. I presumed it was a voice imprint. We waited until there was a quiet click.
The door opened.
Slash paused, taking my hand and looking into my eyes.
“Are you ready?”
I squeezed his hand. “As long as you are.”
Chapter Fifty-Six
The room was dark, but Slash bypassed the light switch and tapped out a code on another pad. This one turned on a set of dim lighting on the floor. It was just enough to let us see where we were going without tripping over anything.
He led me to an armchair. “Sit, please.”
Curious, I sat, not making a sound. I tried to make out the shapes and shadows in the room without m
uch success. Slash walked around the room and little lights sprang up. He was lighting candles.
Giving up on trying to figure out what he was doing, I tried to relax and sat back in the chair, waiting. My pulse skittered, but it wasn’t with fear or anxiety. It was anticipation. Slash was going to show me a part of himself that he’d never shared before and I had no idea what to expect.
The candles flickered as he sat down.
The first bars of music drifted through the room. Astonishment swept through me. Slash was playing the piano. Given the dark room, he wasn’t reading music either. He played from his heart.
The first notes were soft and tender, exquisitely emotional. I sat transfixed as the music filled the room. The melody was at once sweet and uplifting until it changed into fiery and fervent chords and rifts. A dichotomy of poetry and passion—discordance and peace. As the first song ended and the last note faded away, he finally spoke.
“Cara, come here.”
I rose from my chair and walked toward him. Candles flickered on the piano as I approached. He patted the bench next to him.
I sat down, our shoulders and thighs touching. As I suspected, there was no sheet music, just an empty stand. His eyes closed as he began playing another song, this one surprisingly sensual. His elegant hacker hands moved across the piano keys much like I’d seen them work a computer keyboard. His fingers stroked and caressed. The flickering lights of the candle cast shadows on his cheeks framed by the dark strands of his hair that slipped across his shoulders.
It took me a minute to understand. He was making love to me with the music. The sensations flowing through my body were strikingly similar to those I felt when he touched and kissed me. I watched him mesmerized. The music soared, softened and descended into erotic whispers. He built so masterfully to the climatic finish that when we reached it, I could hardly breathe. I was awash in an erotic, sensual cocoon fashioned by the man I loved. When last note faded away I was so overcome, I couldn’t say a word.
Slash put his hands on his lap, looked straight ahead. “I came into this world through music.”
I studied his face, high cheekbones, square jaw and firm, sensual lips—a man with a passionate beauty and inherent strength.
“Father Armando found me inside the church, beneath the piano and wrapped in a blue blanket. He was playing the music of his favorite pianist, Hai Tsang, when he heard the crying. He thinks I was just a few days old.”
I didn’t know what to say, what I could say. So I said nothing.
“It was a rural province and the weather was foul, so it took two days for a social worker to come for me. Father cared for me with some infant formula from the church pantry, soothing me with the sounds of Tsang’s music. When they came to get me, the bond had already been formed.”
I wasn’t sure if he referred to a bond between he and Tsang or he and Father Armando, but I wasn’t sure it mattered.
“They placed me with a foster family, and I dropped off the radar for seven years. Father Armando tried to find me for those seven years, but I’d disappeared along with the family who’d agreed to foster me. Father never gave up. Through his persistence, the police finally found me in a hospital in Sperlonga. I didn’t speak and I had no idea who I was or where I came from. To this day I have not a single memory of my life before age seven.”
My heart broke into tiny pieces for him. I had no idea of the pain he’d been through.
“The nurses in the hospital were kind to me. One particular nurse was so beautiful I was convinced she was an angel. Her hands were soft and her eyes held a kindness I’d never seen before. I responded to her like I’d never responded to anyone else. When it came time for me to be discharged from the hospital and taken to the orphanage, she offered to take me in. She was a widow with a nine-year-old son of her own, barely making ends meet, but from that moment on I belonged to her. Her name was Juliette and she is my mother.”
I reached over, took his hand and squeezed it, still not trusting myself to speak. I needed to let him get through this, but I wanted him to know I was with him every step of the way.
“It took me two more years before I spoke my first word,” he continued. “I was extremely guarded and resistant to touch, so the schools didn’t know what to do with me. They placed me in a classroom for autistic children. It was the perfect educational setting for me at the time because it was a safe environment. No one pressured me to talk, the students were disarmingly innocent, and the teachers were kind and supportive. I could excel at my own pace. I became fascinated with the minds of the autistic children. In many ways, I had a lot in common with them—excellent memory and retrieval skills, a fascination with numbers and code, and an analytical mind. My label as autistic opened me up to bullying, but I learned how to use my smarts to outwit them. It also helped that I wasn’t one to shy away from a fight. I spent more time than I should have studying and mastering techniques in that area. After a couple of fights, I didn’t have any more problems. I also became the self-appointed protector for anyone bullying the special kids at my school.”
I finally found my voice. “I’m so sorry, Slash.”
“I’m not complaining. I know I’m one of the lucky ones. My mother eventually found a new and decent man to love. That man became my father and they gave me my younger brother Giorgio. I’m close to my brothers, but not as close as I should be. My relationship with you has taught me many things, but perhaps among the most important is that in order to let people in, I have to let my guard down. Even with members of my own family. Otherwise I will always be alone.”
I leaned my head against his shoulder. “You’ve excelled at everything in your life. I see why. You are driven.”
“Perhaps. Meeting you has changed my life. You’ve helped me to see what I want from this life and what I have to risk to get it.”
I understood where he was coming from even if I hadn’t really grasped that at the beginning of our relationship. “Likewise, Slash. What I learned from my experience in the jungle is that life is not just who we are, but the relationships we have. This relationship has become that important to me, more than I ever thought possible. You are important.”
“Thank you,” he murmured, sliding his arm around me and pulling me close.
“What about Father Armando?” I tipped my face toward him. “Are you still in touch with him?”
“Of course. He’s now the Archbishop of Genoa.”
I paused, my fingers touching the cool wood of the piano. There was still something I didn’t quite understand. “So, why do you keep your piano behind a steel reinforced door? You play so beautifully.”
He shifted on the bench and took both of my hands in his. The candlelight illuminated the curve of his cheek while casting the rest of his face in shadow. “This room is soundproof. The truth is I didn’t want to share my music with anyone...until I met you.”
Tears pricked my eyes and I swallowed hard. “I’m...honored.”
He cupped my chin and kissed me. It was a kiss that held a promise of a lot more to come.
When he lifted his mouth from mine, he smiled. “However, in the spirit of full disclosure, this room also holds all of my disguises, false papers and passports, as well as unregistered computers and equipment.”
“Ha. Good thinking.”
We both laughed and in that moment of release I looked at him hopefully. “So, Slash, I’ve been meaning to ask you a favor.”
“No.” He said it without hesitation.
“What?” I stared at him in shock. “Wait. You don’t even know what I’m going to ask!”
“I’m afraid I do.” I could hear the amusement in his voice.
“Then what?” I challenged. “Seriously, now you have to guess.”
He stood, offering a hand and helping me off the bench. In the dim light, I could see he was still smi
ling. “You want me to help with the bachelorette party.”
Okay, that level of accuracy was frightening. “How did you know?”
“You’ve been worried sick about it ever since Basia asked you to be her maid of honor.” He kissed me on the nose.
“You won’t help?” I pouted. “Just a little?”
“Not even a little.” He chuckled. “If you can survive a plane crash and several days in the jungle without technology, surely you can plan a girl party on your own. I have the utmost faith in you.”
“Shoot. I was afraid you’d say that.” I sighed. “I’ve never planned a party before, let alone a bachelorette party. This is going to be a lot harder than I thought.”
Slash lifted my chin up and stared into my eyes. “I’m certain about one thing, cara. Whatever you do, you’ll be just fine.”
Epilogue
Jiang Shi was neck deep in a complex crack against the US’s Transportation Security Administration’s internal network when he heard a soft knock on the door. Irritated, he tore his gaze away from the data scrolling across his screen. How many times had he told them not to disturb him when he was engaged in a delicate operation?
“Enter,” he barked.
One of his male assistants entered, bowing and looking extremely nervous. Good. They obeyed him better when they were afraid. He held a small package in his hands and thrust it out toward Shi.
“I’m sorry to interrupt you, sir. This just came for you. I thought you should see it right away.”
Shi took the package. It was just bigger than his fist and quite light. It had been wrapped in brown paper, sealed with clear strapping tape and addressed to him at this address in clear block letters. There was no return address.
No Room for Error: A Lexi Carmichael Mystery, Book Seven Page 30
