Richard's Reign (Book 6): Enthrall Novella #3 (Enthrall Sessions) (2 page)

“Okay, sorry. Mr. Booth.”

I gave her a look that told her it was too late. The damage was done.

Sienna seemed panicked.

I remembered the way she’d fawned over her boss at that charity event I’d attended a few weeks ago. She probably served as a loyal friend too. A hard find in this town.

“Send my thanks.” I shoved the key in the ignition. “Perhaps another time.”

“I shouldn’t be telling you this,” Sienna burst out, “but Andrea’s going to lose the part if you don’t help her.”

“Part?”

“She’s been cast in a secret project and the director’s coming down hard on her because she’s having trouble.”

“What kind?”

“It’s a challenging role and Mubarak—”

“The director?”

“Yes.”

I arched a brow, my excitement rising having loved his work since I first saw that Oscar winning masterpiece
Nightingale’s Fall
. I’d read in GQ that Jack Mubarak was a temperamental Londoner with a special brand of delivering authenticity and pushing his actors hard. His films went well over budget and stretched the schedule way beyond the norm. Being fired off the set could stain an actor’s career.

“What’s the film?” I revved the engine.

“It’s top secret.”

“Not sure how I can help.”

“That’s what she wants to talk to you about.” Sienna pulled out her phone, the ringtone bursting out a rapper singing that the world could go to hell.

It made me smile. “Your boss?”

“Andrea must have changed my ringtone.”

Which sounded like something I’d do.

“Say you’ll come.” She handed me a postcard.

I flipped it over and read an address. “What’s her role?” I tossed the card on the seat.

“Don’t let it fly out.”

“What does Andrea want from me?”

“She’d like to discuss that with you privately.”

“How about a clue?”

Sienna glanced around self-consciously.

That break in our conversation was all I needed. My Wrangler spun its wheels and sprayed up dust.

I hit a hundred along the dirt path. I couldn’t be bothered to glance in the rear view.

I already had a date.

With that Remy Martin, Louis XIII Black Pearl.

CHAPTER 3

THE PHOTOG LOWERED his camera.

Which was a good thing because he was close to getting punched in the face.

From the way he stared at me warily he knew it too.

This was one guest he wouldn’t be capturing arriving at Andrea Buckingham’s home tonight. I’d drawn his attention after stepping out of the SUV with its blacked out windows and souped-up wheels. A car Shay had insisted on arranging for me when I told him I wouldn’t be going to Chrysalis. No doubt under the strict orders of Cameron who was probably keeping track of my whereabouts.

I’d take an Uber home.

A limo pulled up curbside and the photographer joined his wily paparazzo buddies who were thankfully distracted by the man climbing out the back - a young actor I vaguely recognized.

After giving my name to the bouncer at the door, I was allowed in.

The scent of vanilla air freshener and pot hit my nostrils. A small crowd had gathered at the foot of the steps.

I regretted coming here now. I knew no one and this promised to be the worst New Year’s Eve on record. I should have trusted my gut.

I turned to go, ready to face the photographers again as I stepped outside.

“Mr. Booth,” a female voice said from behind me.

Sienna signaled from the doorway. “Quickly.”

A blinding flash.

Fuck.

Retreating back inside I cursed the decision to leave via the front door. I’d managed to maintain a clandestine life since I’d left New York. Why the hell had I agreed to this?

I’d left Winston at home to sulk after promising it’d just be us two. That bottle of Cognac was calling my name. And I thought waiting to pull my cord too long during my jump this morning had been the crappiest decision of the day.

I wondered which website I’d be featured on by the morning. Blinking against the black spots in my eyes, I took in Sienna’s short, white dress. She’d pulled her hair up in ponytail, her make-up barely concealing her sun-kissed cheeks.

“You look pretty,” I said sincerely.

She started to say something and faltered, as though surprised.

“Nice house.” I tried to lessen the tension.

Her frown deepened as she took in my ripped jeans and black J. Crew sweater. Yes, I had noted the dress code had specified black-tie.

I wasn’t in the mood.

“The invitation was very specific.” Her gaze swept the foyer, taking in the other guests who’d complied as though my
faux pas
could be undone.

“Let’s get this over with, Sienna.”

“This way.” She headed to the west side of the mansion.

I felt the beady eyes of some of the other guests following us down the hallway. We paused outside a door.

“Please be more tactful with Andrea than you are with me,” she whispered.

“How’d you mean?”

“Less…”

“Less?” I assumed she meant asshole-esk.

“Andrea’s very sensitive.”

“In what way?”

Sienna’s eyes narrowed and she faced the door.

Great, a temperamental actress used to getting her own way. I mused this might actually be fun, like a cat playing with a mouse kind of fun.

I glanced at my watch and then glared up at Sienna.

She blushed wildly and knocked.

We stepped into an office.

I’d forgotten how breathtaking she was.

Andrea stood beside the desk with her delicate fingers nervously trailing the edge. She was in her twenties but looked younger. She threw a self-conscious glance over at Sienna. This woman had the kind of beauty reserved for super-models or, as my addled brain caught up with my thoughts, A-list actresses.

I was no stranger to women who topped the beauty charts, having been immersed in the elite world of Chrysalis, but this woman’s doe-eyed sweetness, her freckled nose and chiseled cheekbones emanated an unearthly innocence. I eyed her voluptuous frame, all curves in a blue mini-dress, long lean legs and - God, if she wasn’t barefoot - having kicked off those strappy heels which lay on the floor to her left.

I wondered if her being barefoot was deliberate - perhaps attempting to make this meeting less formal.

My bad boy demeanor was disarmed all over again. Like it had been that same evening we’d been briefly introduced at the Charity Wells Gala at Shutters in Santa Monica. I’d assumed Andrea had forgotten me seconds after my introduction. She’d been whisked away to meet the other guests and hadn’t looked back. My gaze, however, had stayed on her as she’d walked away. Not surprisingly she’d been the main focus of everyone during the evening.

I imagined she saw everyone’s reaction to her like this…me needing a moment to remember how to breathe. She was gorgeous on screen, but close up Andrea held a dazzling beauty.

“Thank you, Sienna,” she said, her voice sounding husky.

Sienna’s gaze landed on me suspiciously.

I shrugged, smiling.

Andrea gave a nod to Sienna that she’d be fine and we watched her leave.

“I apologize for the photographers, Mr. Booth.”

“Ms. Buckingham, you might want to get yourself a longer driveway.”

“I didn’t imagine it would ever be quite like this.” She lowered her chin. “Please, call me Andrea.”

“Richard.”

“This home has sentimental value now, so moving is…”

“Great location.” I tucked my hands in my pockets. “You’re close to the comedy club. Ever go?”

“Once.”

“How was it?”

“I went with girlfriends. It was fun.”

I was making her nervous. Yet I was trying not to.

I stepped back.

“Thank you for being here,” she said.

“Sure. Sienna mentioned you need my help?”

“I’ve been informed you run a club in Palos Verdes?”

“I see.”

She rested her hand on her chest. “This is a little difficult.”

I arched a brow, assuming she meant embarrassing.

“Perhaps you’ll sign this first?” She lifted an envelope off the desk and offered it to me. “I hope you don’t mind.”

I took it from her, peeled it open, and slid out the non-disclosure agreement.

“My attorney reads all documents before I sign them.”

“It’s to prevent you from selling me out to the press, Richard.”

“Never going to happen. Who told you about me?”

She shook her head to let me know she wouldn’t say.

“Well,” I reasoned, “if they know me they’ll also be aware how private I am.”

“Shall I give you a few minutes to read it?”

I lowered the envelope to my side. “I’ll be in touch.”

“You’re not staying?”

“I’m assuming you want me to sign this first?”

She blushed, looking uncomfortable.

Sienna had mentioned Andrea was struggling with her current role. It didn’t take a genius to work out why she’d summoned me.

“Submissive or dominatrix?” I asked.

Now she looked horrified.

“Your role?” I took a step forward.

“This is a little awkward.”

“May I take a wild guess?”

“Sure.”

“You don’t understand the character’s true motivation for their need for BDSM.”

“And how would you know that?”

“You invited me here.”

“I’m playing this character…Rose. I need to experience her surrender.”

“Maybe I could take a look at the script?”

“If you could just sign—”

I moved closer, towering over her now and wondering if she wished she’d kept her shoes on for height. “Are you searching out a dominant to talk with about your role?”

“In a way, yes.”

I frowned at her vagueness.

“I’m working with Jack Mubarak.” She paused as though waiting to see my impressed reaction. “Only this morning he asked me to leave the set and not come back until I learned how to enter subspace.” Her lips quivered. “He’s demanding authenticity, only I’m not sure what he’s asking of me.” She stared at me with her soulful brown eyes.

“I see.”

“A friend suggested I talk with you.”

“Someone in the community?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not just looking to talk about it are you?” I said.

“Well, if I find the right person who is willing to show me a few moves.”

“A few moves?”

“You know, how to be tied up and stuff and not panic.”

“Are you dating anyone?”

“Why?”

“Just wondering if there might be a jealous boyfriend I need to be aware of?”

“I’m taking a break from the dating scene.”

“So you’re portraying a submissive?”

“Yes.”

I beamed at her.

“I researched it online,” she said.

“Bad idea.”

“I know that now.”

“It’s about getting in the right headspace.” I leaned in closer. “Truly surrendering.”

She blushed again. “For the role, yes.”

“Andrea,” I whispered. “Do you really want my help?”

“Please, I’m not into pain.”

“Most people aren’t.”

“So, just so we’re on the same page.” She narrowed her gaze. “I’m not going to be giving up any control here.”

I pulled back on a smile.

“I’ll act as though I have relinquished control.”

I paused. “Why did you take this part?”

“I need to stretch myself as an actress. The critics have accused me of being one-tone.” She shook her head as though trying to shake off those reviews.

“Your agent persuaded you to take the role?”

“It’s Jack Mubarak,” she said. “I couldn’t pass on such an opportunity. He’s giving me until after the New Year to prove I’m really dedicated to the role. I need to pull this off. If I lose this…”

“It’s not unusual for an actor to pull out of a role.”

“Do you think you can help me or not?”

“Sure you really want this part? How about a nice thriller?” I arched my brows playfully.

“I need this,” she said softly.

Standing in here alone with another woman shot a pang of guilt into my gut.

Mia Lauren…her laughter, the way she stomped her feet when frustrated. The way she took care of Winston. Took care of me. She’d told me how much she needed me. Needed this.

The same request that Andrea was asking: Blinding domination.

And I’d refused Mia.

My heart would always ache for the woman who was no longer mine and my thoughts returned to this morning when I’d all but delivered her into the arms of my best friend.

I was in no state to take on a needy woman. Even if she was stunning and her servitude would no doubt morph into an easy obsession.

Just the thought of her entourage made my skin crawl. Still, being this close to her elicited the low thrum of arousal. She was gorgeous and taking her hard and fast on that carved wooden desk would serve to soothe this heartache.

Pulling back on my roguish thoughts, I grabbed hold of reason and ran through the scenario of what was best for Andrea.

“Don’t make me beg, Richard.”

“You mean now or during a session?”

She grazed her teeth along her lower lip. “You seem easy to talk to.”

“You’re having trouble surrendering on set?”

“Entering subspace. I just can’t get there.”

“Mubarak needs to see it in your eyes. The camera captures everything.”

“Yes.”

“You daydream?”

“Yes.”

“It’s similar. Quiet your thoughts. It’s a form of meditation.”

Her eyes filled with frustration.

This wasn’t just about a role, there was something else going on with her and I felt my interest pique.

“Being a submissive is about finding your center and letting go. Being in the now. Giving yourself over to your lover. Losing yourself and rediscovering yourself at the same time.”

Her nipples hardened and nudged the cups of her dress. “I appreciate the insight.”

Andrea was subconsciously reacting to my voice, a good sign she’d be trainable.

I reached up and ran my thumb over her bottom lip and she raised her chin in response.

“You know that moment right before you orgasm?” I whispered. “Seconds before you let go and come.”