Authors: Trina Lane,Lisabet Sarai,Elizabeth Coldwell
Tags: #Romance, #General, #Fiction
Master Me
Total-e-bound
www.total-e-bound.com
Copyright ©2010 by Lisabet Sarai, Trina Lane, Elizabeth Coldwell
First published in 2010
Master Me
ISBN # 978-0-85715-334-0
The Understudy (C)Copyright Lisabet Sarai 2010
Paradise of Pleasure (C)Copyright Trina Lane 2010
Neil and Obey (C)Copyright Elizabeth Coldwell 2010
Ever Unknown (C)Copyright Charlotte Stein 2010
Fresh Start (C)Copyright Jane Davitt 2010
A Very Personal Trainer (C)Copyright Justine Elyot 2010
Cover Art by Natalie Winters (C)Copyright November 2010
Edited by Delaney Sullivan
Total-E-Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2010 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.
Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated
Total-e-burning.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Lincoln: Ford Motor Company
Fiddler on the Roof: Jerry Bock, Sheldon Harnick and Joseph Stein
Plaza Suite: Neil Simon
A Streetcar Named Desire: Tennessee Williams
Glenlivet: Glenrothes-Glenlivet Limited
Gitanes: Societe Nationale d’Exploitation Industrielle des Tabacs et Allumettes
Samsonite: Samsonite IP Holdings S.A.R.L.
Our Town: Thornton Wilder
Nine 1/2 Weeks: Galactic Films
Jell-o: Kraft Food Holding, Inc.
McDonalds: McDonald’s Corporation
StairMaster: Nautilus Inc.
“It’s him!” Adele tugged at my shirt, almost hard enough to tear it. “Look, Sarah!” She pointed to the shiny black Lincoln cruising around the corner. “I still can’t believe it! We’re really going to have a chance to work with Geoffrey Hart!” The wooden porch shook as my friend literally jumped up and down with excitement. Adele’s temperament matched her fiery hair.
Of course my own heart beat faster than normal as the town car approached the inn at a sedate pace. Geoffrey Hart was a legend in American theatre. Since his first appearance off-Broadway ten years earlier, he had won every award in the world of drama. He’d played every prestigious role from Oedipus to Willy Loman. One summer in Central Park I’d seen him as both Hamlet and King Lear. He was astonishing, equally convincing as the callow, indecisive university student and the bitter, world-weary old man. His magical voice, full of nuance and music, reached the back row without amplification. His body language was eloquent with emotion. In both plays, he’d made me cry. His performances were an inspiration, one of the things that finally made me settle on drama—much to my parents’ chagrin.
I’d been thrilled when the Berk Hills Playhouse offered me a place for the summer. I never in a million years expected that I’d meet the man who had been such a role model.
But why on earth was he coming here, to a little summer stock theatre in the rural hills of western Massachusetts? The last news I saw, he was lead actor and part owner of the Gotham Repertory Company. What could possibly have induced him to abandon the city for the sticks?
“I heard that he broke up with Anne Merrill,” said Adele,
sotto voce
, as if she’d read my mind. “She dumped him. He’s come out here to the country to lick his wounds.”
“What? Who told you that?” I recalled the actor’s handsome face and imposing presence. It was hard to believe someone would dump him—he seemed like the type to do the dumping.
“I can’t reveal my sources.” Adele’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “But the word is that his heart is broken.”
“Oh come on!” I just couldn’t imagine someone like Hart moping about a woman. “Seriously?”
“I wouldn’t lie to you, would I?” She put her arm around my shoulders and gave me a quick hug. “And that’s not all. There are rumours about their relationship—that it was, well, kinky, if you know what I mean. According to the grapevine, she wasn’t just his girlfriend. She was also his slave.”
“Please! You shouldn’t believe every bit of gossip you hear.”
“I’m just saying…”
“Shush! They’re here.”
The town car slid to a silent stop in front of the steps. The uniformed driver opened the back door, then stood back to let his passenger alight. For a long moment nothing happened—like the suspense before the curtain rises. I realised I was holding my breath.
A pair of long legs clad in black emerged from the shadowy interior. A lean torso followed, wearing a white shirt open at the neck under a black jacket. Finally, I could see his face.
Up close—he stood no more than a dozen yards from us—he looked more rugged and less refined than he had seemed on stage. Thick black hair curled above a noble forehead. I had a sudden, almost irresistible urge to bury my fingers in those lustrous waves. He had a Mediterranean complexion and a proud nose with a slight hook. I remembered reading that he was part Armenian and part Italian, despite his British stage name. His square jaw suggested stubbornness, his wide mouth and full lips, sensuality. His eyes were set deep under well-shaped, somewhat bushy brows.
He turned those dark eyes on me and I felt suddenly faint. They were the eyes of a predator sizing up his prey. His lips twisted into a half-smile, displaying his pearly teeth. I wanted to run, but I was rooted to the spot. My cheeks burned. Sweat gathered under my arms. I realised my nipples were hard, pressing painfully against the constraining fabric of my bra, and I said a silent prayer of thanks that I’d at least worn a bra today. At least he couldn’t see those brazen nubs. The way he looked at me, though, with that focused, cruel attention, made me feel completely naked.
I couldn’t look away. The moment stretched itself out. My disobedient body betrayed me more deeply with each breath. I felt him rifle through my thoughts, seeking my lewdest fantasies. I tried to empty my mind. I couldn’t banish the image that surged up without warning, a picture of him grabbing me and tearing my clothes off.
“Mr. Hart!” Adele broke the spell, rushing forward to shake the actor’s hand. “Welcome to Barrington! We’re all so excited to have you here…”
He seemed to notice her for the first time. He favoured her with a charming smile and an appraising once-over. My relief at being released from his scrutiny was tempered with irrational jealousy.
“Ah, thank you, Miss…”
“Adele. Adele Franklin. I’m the ingenue. I play Chava in
Fiddler
and Stella in
Streetcar.
Oh, and Mimsy in
Plaza Suite.
I’m just thrilled to meet you, Mr. Hart…”
She had not released his hand. She leant forward, almost on tiptoe, her lips parted, her body practically vibrating with eagerness. His smile was gracious but dismissive as he turned his attention back to me. Everything inside me seemed to melt in the heat of his gaze.
“And you are?”
“Um—Sarah Gladstone, sir. I play chorus and extra roles. I’m also the understudy for Adele and Ms. Stuart. This is my first year here.”
“Very pleased to meet you, Sarah. I look forward to getting to know you better over the summer.” His words were polished and polite. His eyes, however, told me another story. They stripped me bare and then challenged me to complain about his boldness. He knew that I would not.
The driver had removed Hart’s three suitcases from the trunk while we’d introduced ourselves. Geoffrey gestured for him to carry them inside. Adele and I trailed after the actor like groupies.