I sit up and rub my face. I frown as I notice a folded piece of paper slipped under my door. I retrieve it, unfolding it as I pace around my room. Moving helps me wake up. It’s a note from Stefan:
If you’re feeling up to our date, wear something smart.
S
I don’t need to dress smartly often, but I have a suit and a couple of nice shirts and ties. I take a cool shower, which helps drive away some of the fatigue clinging to me, and then I get dressed. My suit is black, but I choose the navy-blue shirt rather than the white one and pair it up with an abstract tie based on the art of Mondrian. I’m ninety-nine per cent sure my tie will have more colour than whatever Stefan is wearing. I go downstairs to find out.
Stefan is in the kitchen, drinking coffee with Rory. I stop in my tracks when I see him, my jaw dropping at how stunning he looks. He’s wearing a black jacquard tailcoat with huge lapels. It looks like it’s been made to fit him perfectly. His waistcoat and trousers are the same material, accented with silver buttons and a belt. He’s wearing a silk cravat with a tie pin in the shape of the BDSMblem. Three silver spokes rotate clockwise from the centre to the rim, contrasting against the black inner fields, which, in turn, each have a circular hole in them.
He smiles at me. “You look amazing.”
I shake my head. “I’m underdressed. You look—” I don’t have the words.
Stefan always looks sophisticated, but this suit takes it to another level. He wouldn’t look out of place as the groom in a gothic-inspired wedding.
“Where are you going?” Rory asks in his soft, lilting Irish accent.
Stefan doesn’t take his gaze off me as he taps the side of his nose. “That’s a secret. For now.”
“You’ll have to tell me all about it when you get back. It must be fancy for you both to be dressed up like that.”
“You know?” I gesture between Stefan and me. My mind is still shrouded in fog.
Rory shrugs. “Is it a coincidence that you’re both dressed up?”
“No.”
“Well, then.” He raises his coffee mug. “Enjoy whatever you’re doing.” He gulps the coffee, rinses the mug, and then strolls out of the kitchen, leaving Stefan and me alone.
“Are you okay?” Stefan asks.
“Tired,” I admit. “I’ve had several naps, but…” I sigh. “I’ll be fine. I’m looking forward to our date.”
Stefan’s forehead creases. I should be used to the concern and second-guessing. I get enough of it from my family. I get it. I do. People can’t help but worry about me. Sometimes I appreciate it. Other times, it’s suffocating. I hate being reminded that my limits aren’t the same as everyone else’s because, damn it, I want to go on this date with Stefan.
He puts his mug down, walks across the kitchen, and rests his hands on my hips. He pulls me closer to him so there’s only the slimmest of gaps between us.
“We can take a rain check if you need to?” His voice is gentle but firm.
Does he use that voice on the men and women who pay him to dominate them? Not for the first time, my thoughts stray to what his dungeon is like. I wrinkle my nose. It’s probably dark, which would be useless for me. I like The Library, but like most nightclubs—kinky or otherwise—the lighting is dim, which doesn’t help me stay awake. Still, a kink club is one of the safest places I can fall asleep.
Stefan chuckles. “What are you thinking about?”
I blink. “Sorry. I’m far too good at getting lost in my thoughts.”
He hooks his fingers through my belt loops. “Don’t apologise. Do you want to stay here? We could watch a film together.”
“Do you want me to fall asleep?”
“If that’s what you need.”
Is it? I’m tired, but I’m not feeling an irresistible pull. Yet. “I’ll be fine.” I fix a smile on my face. “I want to go out with you.” I run my thumb and forefinger over the edge of his lapel. “Especially as you’ve gone to so much effort.”
“So have you.”
“Hardly. I threw on the only suit I have.”
He grazes his fingers over my tie. “Mondrian?”
