The only reason Tamsyn was sitting politely at the table, trying to eat, was Violet.
She wouldn’t be here if she didn’t trust the Domme.
“Boudreaux,” Violet said impatiently, getting his attention. “Are you listening?”
He grinned. “No, Mistress.”
“Nothing unusual there, then,” she muttered. “Tamsyn asked how many clubs you own.”
Dimming his grin until it was a warm smile, he turned his gaze on the pixie as he reeled off the list of Amatory clubs. “Kink is a precious commodity. Give people safety and security, a touch of luxury and style, and they will come to play their hearts out. The BDSM community has its ups and downs, its shining stars and bad apples, but at the core… we just want to enjoy life.”
“He likes to think he’s a philanthropist and not interested in the money at all.”
Reaux laughed and wagged his fork at her. “Bennie, Bennie, Bennie, don’t be ridiculous. I fucking love the money. How else would I be able to chase your gorgeous ass over several state lines to bring you home?”
“Why do you call her Bennie?” Tamsyn asked softly. “It’s nothing like Violet.”
“Ah, it is a pet name, yes? Mypetite beignet. The sweetest treat designed for my palate alone. She is, will always be, my Bennie.”
“Merrick calls me his little owl.”
Reaux instantly knew why; those big, round, tawny eyes wouldn’t look out of place in a feathered face. He cocked hishead, studying her quizzically. “Yes, I see now. So many delicate feathers on your cheeks. It’s very fitting, no?”
She automatically lifted her hands to her face, her fingertips stroking over her cheekbone before she realized he was joking. The cutest blush spread over her cheeks as she gave him a shy, embarrassed smile and lowered her hand to her lap. “For a Dom, you’re funny.”
“For a Dom?” He pressed his palm to his chest. “I’m wounded. Mortally wounded. Does your Merrick not have a sense of humor?”
Those two small words,your Merrick, lit up her face with an inner joy that was brighter than all the Christmas lights in New York City. Her love for her Dom was blinding; it brought back memories of when Violet used to look at him like that, react just that way whenever someone mentioned his name to her.
Hindsight was a bitch on steroids.
“I guess he’s strict in the club, but when we’re home alone… no one makes me laugh the way he does. Even when I get mad when he tells me I have to do my lessons, or I get scared when I hear something outside at night, he has this knack of turning the world around and making it brighter.” The adoration scribed over her face was simply stunning. “When the paperwork goes through, we’re going to be married.”
“Paperwork?”
Violet cleared her throat. “Just the usual hoops any betrothed couple have to jump through at the whim of the higher powers.”
Oh really? As far as he was aware, the process for getting married was pretty simple—fill in an online application, schedule an appointment to obtain the license, flash some identification, and hurry to the damn courthouse to make it all official. That took, what, maybe a few days, a week?
“How long have you been waiting for the paperwork?” he asked casually, devouring some more of the spicy rice and a juicycrawfish as he waited for Tamsyn to answer and Violet to deflect it.
“Months,” the pixie said in a glum tone.
Violet’s sigh of exasperation didn’t go amiss as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Extenuating circumstances, Boudreaux. None of which warrant your input.”
“Perhaps I can help. I like to think I’m a philanthropist, do I not?”
Her temper flared so quickly, she almost broke her teeth by biting down too hard on the fork she’d just slipped between her lips. “Merrick and Tamsyn have Evander batting in their corner. Old blood and decrepit money doesn’t give you a back door into the government.”
“Ah, so it’s not state or even county paperwork. It’s for the big guns at the top of the food chain.” Chewing thoughtfully, Reaux scrolled through the mental list of names who might be persuaded to help the little pixie and her Dom. There were a few who could help grease certain wheels, add weight to whatever pressure Evander was exerting.
He’d get Francoise to dig into potential avenues.
What Violet didn’t know was that he didn’t just have a back door into the government, he had a fucking red carpet and fanfare that had nothing to do with his family—blood or money. A large part of Amatory’s membership consisted of government officials ranging from the lowest levels to the highest, all protected by NDAs and strict club security.
There would be somebody willing to help.
“Boudreaux,” Violet hissed in warning. “Don’t even think about interfering.”
