“How many courses are there?”
“Five.”
“Five?” I imagine my eyes are probably popping out of my head right now. “How do you know about the cutlery?”
Stefan glances out the window. “Partly from being taken to fancy restaurants as a young kid, but mostly from Charles.” Stefan dips his chin. “You probably don’t want to hear stories about him.”
“Did Charles like the finer things in life?”
“Yes. He owns an exclusive, members-only club. When Beau went to university, I got a job there serving behind the bar. Before long, Charles took a special interest in me. He showed me what really happens in the club behind closed doors and then offered to teach me how to be one of his Doms. He told me I’d earn a lot more money doing that than working behind a bar.” Stefan’s expression becomes distant. “He was right.”
“Were you ever…?”
“Involved?”
I nod.
“He was the first man I ever slept with. Was I ever in love with him? No. But I learnt a lot from him.”
“Including how to play chess.”
Stefan smiles. “Yes.”
“BDSM and chess. It’s an obvious combination.”
Stefan laughs. “More obvious than you’d think. Both require patience, strategy, and planning.”
The door at the end of the carriage opens, and a woman in a flapper dress with an ostrich feather in her hair bursts in. She knocks her knees together and splays her hands against her cheeks.
“There’s been a murder!”
There’s a chorus of shocked gasps from the people around us, although everyone is smiling.
Stefan leans across the table. “Speaking of patience and strategy, the game begins.”
While the attendants take away the plates that had our starters on, members of the cast fill us in on the ‘murder’, giving us clues that will hopefully help us figure out whodunnit. We’re introduced to all the suspects, and we get the chance to ask questions before they move along to the next carriage. The attendants swoop back in to serve the next course, which is garden pea and courgette soup. Not a combination I’d have chosen, but it’s surprisingly tasty.
Darkness has fallen, hiding the view from us. The lighting in the carriage is golden and soft, which, combined with the wood’s warm tones, creates a very cosy atmosphere. Too cosy. My head starts to nod, and I find myself sinking against the welcoming embrace of the chair.
I put my spoon down and shake myself awake, blinking fiercely. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. If you need to sleep, sleep.”
“And be a boring date?”
“You’re not boring.”
“This is amazing. I love every second of it. It’s just.” I gesture hopelessly at everything.
“You’re sleepy. I understand.”
The urge to sleep is getting stronger. My body feels heavy, and I can barely keep my eyes open. I don’t want to fall asleep.
“Stefan…” I slump in the chair, head resting against the winged side. I fight the urge to close my eyes, but it’s getting harder and harder to keep them open. “This was a great—”
6
STEFAN
