She holds up the shoes I brought, dangling them from two fingers. “Strappy heels? Really? No socks or boots?”
“They suit the dress.”
She gives me a look of disdain, drops the sandals on the floor, then sits on the edge of the bed and pulls on the ankle boots she was wearing yesterday. I allow this small rebellion.
“Where are we going?”
I don’t actually know. “We’re being picked up.” I glance at my watch, then go for my blazer. “In ten minutes.”
“Who are we meeting?”
“Bastien Fournier.”
“Who the hell’s that?”
“He runs Cadrion Holdings. It’s the umbrella for Northbridge.”
She pauses in the act of zipping up her boot. “Like your boss’s boss?”
“Hmm.” I smooth my blazer down and adjust my cuffs. “More like my boss’s boss’sboss’sboss.”
“Great,” she says sarcastically. “And I’m meeting him dressed like a naïve schoolgirl.”
“You’ve already met him. He was at the ball.”
She frowns. “I don’t remember.”
I wave it away. “Oh, before I forget…” I slip a hand inside my blazer pocket and pull out Vicky’s ring. “Put this on.”
She hesitates, eyeing it with a complex mix ofemotions playing across her face. Then her eyes harden. “‘Put this on’? That’s romantic, isn’t it?”
“Put this on, or I’ll spank you. I’m sure that’ll make the ride more interesting for you.”
“You don’t need to threaten all the time,” she mutters, then takes it from my palm, sliding it back onto her finger, a frown creasing her brow as she stares at it.
I watch with a strong sense of satisfaction. It’s not only that she’s accepted it again, it’s that she’s wearing something that marks her as mine. I like that, but I wonder if it’s enough. Maybe I should design a tattoo for her, something indelible and permanent that she can’t remove. A constant reminder on her body of who owns her.
“Shall we go?”
She stands, collecting her coat and pulling it on. “Sometimes I hate you.”
“And that’s what makes the sex so fun.”
Her response is a joy to see. She stills, in that way she has when she’s uncomfortable. Her eyes shoot to me, widen, look away. Her cheeks flush. She bites at her lip. It all takes place in a second, and I know she’s aroused.
Yeah. Fucking distracting.
But I don’t care. Fournier probably wants a ‘welcome the new boy’ meet-and-greet, and it’s going to be over twenty minutes after we arrive. We can get back here, and I can spend the afternoon tying her up and exploring everything under that dress.
I slide a hand into my pocket, surreptitiously adjustmyself, then pull my coat on. “Let’s go.”
Glancing at the time as we walk out of the lodge, it’s two minutes till eleven. I’m not sure who’s meeting us or where, only that this is where we need to be, and when. There are few cars in the lot, all of them parked, none of them occupied, and nothing in sight. The sun’s out, the ground dry, but the air is crisp.
Vicky shivers, fixes me with a hard look, and hunches her shoulders in her coat. “Where is he, then?”
“I very much doubt he’ll be here in person.” I slide an arm around her waist and pull her against me, and it’s a mark of how cold she is that she doesn’t protest or try and draw back.
I keep an eye on the road, but there’s no sign of any cars. We’re standing like lemons outside the lodge, no one around, no movement, and I’m beginning to get irritated.
