Secrets Remembered (3 page)

“…a waste of time,” a male voice said.

A deeper voice replied, but it came through the door as an indistinct rumble and Ailsa couldn’t have sworn whether it was someone else there, or someone on the end of a speakerphone. Then there was silence. Ailsa counted to fifty and opened the door a crack. The corridor was empty. She eased herself down from the shelf and looked at the dust that coated her.

If anything would give away her presence, a trail of dust would, and she wasn’t supposed to be found.

So much for good, clean undercover work. How many times had she wished she was back on the beat, policing a football match or shepherding drunken undergrads back to their lodgings? Well not many, she owned, but sometimes she wondered if she was right in the head. This job wasn’t all glamorous parties and secret microphones. Most of it was standing in the freezing cold and waiting for something and you had no idea what for.

She wiped her shoes on the inside of her coat, held them in one hand, slipped her mucky socks into her pocket and walked quietly away in the opposite direction from where the voices had gone. Ailsa mentally smiled at her thoughts. Independently acting voices and no bodies to go with them?

God she hoped not, she wasn’t a sci-fi or horror fan.

Stupidly she turned left not right and found herself in the gym.

And heard the whistling again.

It seemed someone was about, and she was going to be in big trouble. There wasn’t even a desk to hide under like in all good movies, or a floor length curtain. The windows had fitted blinds. A treadmill, cross trainer and rowing machine didn’t make good hiding places. Nor did the water cooler.

With a sigh deep enough to clear leaves from a footpath, Ailsa slipped her shoes back on, straightened her shoulders and faced the door.

The man who stopped dead in the doorway, mid whistle, was hot enough for her chin to drop, her eyes to widen and her body to tighten. Whoever said there was no such thing as instant lust was oh so very wrong. She might not subscribe to lacy thongs that got stuck up your arse like a cheese grater, but if she did, Ailsa reckoned they’d be wet and wrung out. As it was, her sensible, cotton, chain store knickers were damp under her thermals. Dark, soft, leather trousers and a black T-shirt were the clothes her wet dreams were made of.

He dropped the bag he was carrying, straightened then looked her up and down. “Well now, what have we here?”

Ailsa swallowed. How to reply to that and not be in trouble?

“Pet, answer me.”

The tone sent shivers down her spine, and the hairs on her arms stood on end in sympathy. Ailsa gulped. Who on earth did he think she was? Pet? Should she woof or growl? If there was one thing she hated it was being called silly names like pet, or chick. She was a woman, not an animal.

“Pet, are you wanting a punishment? The mood I’m in I’ll be happy to oblige. Surely you know the basic protocol?” There was no give in the harsh voice.

Well, no she didn’t, not unless you counted what she’d read in books and that was all fantasy and fiction—wasn’t it? She hadn’t even ventured around the club part of the castle. Her time inside the place was too limited to explore unnecessarily.

“Hello, I’m Ailsa McLagan.”
Dumb, Ailsa, now he can trace you.

“Sir.”

Eh
? “Pardon?”
Oh fuck. Not a scooby. No way.
“No, I’m a miss. And you are?”
Apart from a prick? I thought Doms were… Oh actually, nope, oh double shit
. “Um, oh, sorry, er, Sir, well you see I just forgot where I was. I’m scared.” Would he believe her?

“Really. Do you remember now?” It seemed sarcasm was his forte.

God, that voice. I could drown in it, sarcasm or not. Double dipped chocolate velvet and ohh shit, steel. Hard, hard steel. What do I do now? Come on, what would that dippy heroine from the last book you deleted from your eReader do? No not her, think of the other one. The one whose Sir made you wet. See, a Sir, oh, you ninny, Ailsa.

“Yes, I do, sorry, Sir. I got lost.” She played the dumb blonde for all she was worth.

He gave her no idea if he’d fallen for the act or not. He just stared at her. And continued to stare.

Why doesn’t he say or do something?
It was enough to make a saint fidget, and Ailsa knew damn well she was no saint. At last, just as she was about to do her impersonation of a blubbering idiot, whatever it is, it w-wasn’t me, dumb blonde routine, he nodded and tapped his hand on his thigh.

“You’re late. This is the gym, not the main club room. How did you get in here?”

Okay so it looked like Mar Take No Prisoners, Sir was expecting someone. Who hopefully hadn’t shown up? Maybe, just maybe, Ailsa thought, she could turn that to her advantage.

“I opened the door, and—”

“Don’t get bratty.” He stopped her mid-sentence. “Bratty subs, wannabe or not, get punished.” His voice was level, and he showed no emotion. He just continued to look at her with his dark, unblinking gray eyes.

Sub? Bratty? Oh shit. Was he expecting a sub?
Ailsa had a lump in her stomach. And for the life of her she didn’t know if it was a hot ‘Oh, my God, what next?’ lump or an ‘Oh, my God, not on your life’ one.

“Oh sorry.”
Shoot.
“Sir.”

“Better. So let me ask again, how did you get inside?”

Ailsa opened her eyes wide and put on her best innocent expression. “I just walked through the door. I thought that was what I was supposed to do. I’m sorry if it wasn’t. I’ll just go then.” She edged toward the door. “Excuse me.”

“No.” He stood immobile in the doorway, blocking her exit.

“I beg your pardon?” Even though her heartbeat sped up, Ailsa hoped her demeanor didn’t show her agitation. After all, he had a good foot in height and several stone in weight to his favor. She might be nippy on her feet, but she had to get past him first.

“You came for a lesson, so a lesson you’ll have. My father would be most disappointed if you missed out. I have to give him what he thinks he wants.”

His father? What on earth is he talking about?

“I’m sorry if your father will be sorry, but what’s that got to do with me?” Ailsa asked him. Had she slipped into a time warp? Was her boss playing tricks on her for not handing in her expenses on time? Why the hell had she left the beat? She could be safe behind a riot shield listening to rude chants about her sexuality now, or typing up yet another D and D report instead of wondering how to worm her way out of whatever she’d gotten into. Mind you, it did add credibility to her boss’s belief of nefarious deeds being done.

Who was this bloke? It would be helpful to know his name. So she could tell her colleagues who the nutter was if she ever got away. Ailsa took a quick mental inventory. Tall, short dark hair, gray eyes, an arse to die for and abs…
Whoa, girl,
that
can’t go into an identikit description.

“You tell me,” he said cryptically. “Right, let’s move.” He took her arm and swung her through the doorway after him. “So are we going for wax or knife?”

He was crazy. Surely even a Sir or Dom didn’t pick up random women and ask them that? Then Ailsa remembered he’d said she was late. She didn’t think he meant her as in her Ailsa McLagan, or she hoped he didn’t, else she had slipped into a nightmare. Therefore it must be as she thought and he’d mistaken her for someone else. She’d best go along with it until she could make her getaway.

“Ohh, er, well, you see.” She giggled.
Grief, I sound like a right idiot.
“I really don’t know. I mean, should I?”

He stopped dead and as he was towing Ailsa along in his wake she bumped into him. All hard muscles and sinews, a body that she’d bet would look great in boardies and not much else.

Down, girl. He’s too much everything for you. You need to get away, not stay.

“Oh, I so think you should.” He turned and looked at her face, without releasing his grip on her arm. The voice was smooth, but no one could have mistaken the steely note of authority in it. “After all, why waste the evening, and your money? If you’re worried I’m not Jeff, even he’ll say I’m a better teacher in wax and knife play than he is.”

What? Think here.
“Then why was I booked with him?” Hopefully it was a good guess.

“Because I was busy. Now I’m not. Except with you. You have my whole attention.”

That was what she was worried about.

Ailsa studied the guy from under her lashes. “What did you say your name was?” she asked him.

He flicked her chin then held it in one hand to lift her head up. Her neck cranked back as she was forced to gaze upward at an impossible angle.

“Well now, pet, all you need to know is between these walls, you call me Sir.”

The inflexion in his voice, his intense gaze on her, with eyes that seemed to see into her soul, and the slight pressure on her chin made her heartbeat speed up.
Go on, admit it, you’re curious. I know but what if I hate it and stuff? Well there’s a get out clause isn’t there? Shout red. That’s what they do in the books. And the Doms try to persuade them different. Oh, sheesh, do I? Don’t I?
Ailsa had a mental conversation with herself as she stood in front of the Dom. To agree would help her in more than one way. Both to get out of the castle without having to explain why she was there, and to satisfy her curiosity. If only she knew what his father had to do with it all. Was that someone she needed to check up on? Then she’d need to find out who this man was first.

“So, pet. What’s it to be? Perhaps you want a little of each?” The hold on her chin tightened just enough to sting.

Ailsa swallowed. It was so hard to think when her mind was full of him. “I think maybe wax, Sir.” After all, it was something that made her go all gooey inside when she read about it. “Yes, wax, please, Sir.” Why did using the salutation sound so natural? His demeanor certainly helped but so did the knowledge of where she was. Little pinpricks of excitement bombarded her, and she metaphorically held her breath until he let go of her chin and nodded.

“Very well, pet. You’re overdressed, but we’ll sort that in a second. Assume the position.” He crossed his arms over his chest and continued to stare at her without blinking. “You can do that?”

It took Ailsa all her concentration not to wriggle.
Overdressed? Sort it? Do it?

“Waiting, pet.”

Oh Lordy.
She’d been so mesmerized by his look she’d forgotten what he’d asked of her.
Now come on, remember the books.
Ailsa dropped to her knees, not very gracefully. A slight run in with the car fender when her arms were full of groceries had left her with a swollen and bruised knee. She gasped as the tender skin made contact with the wooden floor.

“What’s wrong?”

“The car fender and I had a coming together and my knee came off worse.”

He frowned.

“First rules, pet. Open and honest. I asked you if you could assume the position. Your response should have been that due to an injury, it wasn’t possible. Then we make our own rules.”

Oh shoot, messed up already. I should know that. I’ve read enough books where that’s stressed.
She decided there was a dumb blonde moment needed.

“I’m excited, scared, flustered and nervous, Sir,” Ailsa said in a quiet voice. It was true, even if she was overemphasizing everything. Never had so many different emotions vied to be uppermost in her. It was as if each one was on a pogo stick in her stomach and bouncing up and down as if their life depended on it. “I wanted to do as you asked, and I didn’t think.”

He put his hands under her arms and helped her to stand up. “I’m glad you wanted that, but you have to remember the rest. How can I be sure what we’re doing is safe, sane and consensual if you aren’t honest? That’s the first thing anyone learns. It worries me that you forgot it.”

She knew the rule. How on earth had she managed to screw up so badly so soon? Ailsa hoped to hell she’d be able to talk her way out of the situation. She didn’t think her boss would be happy if she had to confess how she’d ballsed things up. And as for the rest of the team? The teasing she’d get there wasn’t worth thinking about.

“I know, Sir, I’m sorry, it was an automatic reaction.” She dipped her head and stared at the floor between them. Not only was it respect—she hoped—it also meant he wasn’t staring into her eyes. He seemed to know exactly what was in her mind.

“Good in one way, very bad in another. If I were your Master, you wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week after that silliness. How long have you been a sub?”

It was just the question she’d hoped he wouldn’t ask.

Chapter Three

Aidan looked down at her bowed head. Her blonde curls teased the nape of her neck and covered her ears. Not the sort of woman he’d usually go for, so his father had slipped up there. Once he found out what his father was up to, Aidan had no qualms about nipping any budding relationships before they started. It had been a fair while since the last time he’d been in the line of fire and he wondered if this was the next round.

Previously there had never been any real emotions involved on either side, and Aidan had always been canny enough not to admit to either the women or his father that he knew what had been going on. Therefore, since the last time, he’d been waiting for another attack somehow.

The recent phone call confirmed what he thought. His father was on yet another mission to reform his son. Aidan hadn’t thought the occasion would happen quite so soon. He’d bet his parent didn’t know he’d sent a natural sub, though. She might be as innocent as they come, and he doubted she’d know a Shibari rope from a clothes line, but he’d seen the way she looked at him and her inclination to please.

How on earth had she been vetted and admitted to the club beforehand, though? That phone call had only occurred that day, and it had been several months since Aidan had received any other communication from his father. Something didn’t add up. It wasn’t like Ross to not check the door was secure when he left, but here she was inside the castle. Something stank.

Aidan knew he wasn’t going to play with Ailsa that evening. He didn’t know her, there was no one else around as back-up, and he wasn’t setting himself or Diomhair up for any trouble. But he did intend to see what information he could get out of her. He didn’t believe for one minute that she’d just wandered around looking for someone. To snoop, maybe.