The Pleasures of Spring (21 page)

He was supposed to be building her up, making her feel more confident, not undermining her. Roz was a rough diamond. He had seen her file. All the stuff she had told his family about the Sorbonne and Oxford was a pack of lies. She was an outsider who wanted to fit in. Hell, it didn’t matter to him that she didn’t have a fancy degree. He’d hated every minute of school. In a lot of ways, she fitted in here better than he did.

After the disastrous lunch, she had locked the door to her bedroom and refused to open it when he tried to apologize. She pleaded a headache the following morning until he left for Belfast on an errand for his father.

Miraculously, she recovered almost the moment he was gone and had spent the day posing for Poppy and admiring his father’s livestock. His father pronounced that she had a good eye for an animal. High praise indeed, coming from Dougal. They were already falling under her spell, so
much so that they hadn’t noticed what she’d been up to for the past hour. But he had.

Roz had finally shown her true colours. She was a vixen in a red dress and there wasn’t a man in the room that wasn’t lusting after her. Including him. Rory, the impertinent bastard, had the nerve to put his hand on the bare skin of her back while they were dancing. He had glowered at him until, sensing that he was treading on dangerous ground, Rory had put his hands in his pockets.

Andy wanted to kill every man in the room. Instead he smiled politely and tilted his head to listen to his aunt rambling on about property prices. When Poppy distracted his aunt long enough for him to make his escape, Andy picked up his drink and made a beeline for the laughing group at the other end of the room.

Ariana intercepted him. ‘I don’t think she needs to be rescued.’

‘That wasn’t what I had in mind.’

She raised one dark brow and then broke into a grin. ‘I don’t believe it. Andy McTavish is actually jealous. Someone pinch me.’

‘Don’t tempt me. You may not like the results.’

Andy ignored her laughter and took a deep breath. She was right. He couldn’t wade in there like a bull in a china shop. Roz might be mad at him, but he was willing to bet that she wouldn’t make a scene in front of her new friends.

He left the room and went in search of Maggie. ‘I need a favour. I want you to wait for precisely ten minutes and then take this to Roz.’

Andy handed her a folded piece of paper. He didn’t believe in fighting fair, but then, neither did she. He took
up position in the library, closed the curtains, switched off the lamps except for the small one beside the old-fashioned telephone. As an afterthought, he locked the second door. He didn’t want anyone disturbing them. He and Roz were due some alone time.

He was standing in a dim alcove when the door opened. A scarlet-clad figure moved swiftly to the telephone and picked up the receiver. ‘Frankie? How did you get this number?’

Andy locked the door and pocketed the key.

She turned, receiver still in hand. It didn’t take more than a few seconds for her to realize that she had walked into a trap. He had to hand it to her. Roz barely blinked. She carefully replaced the receiver and walked past him, until she reached the other door.

‘It’s locked,’ he said.

She muttered something under her breath and released the handle. Roz turned, straightened her shoulders and sashayed towards him with all the confidence of a runway model.

She held out her palm. ‘Key.’

‘Kiss, and I’ll think about it.’ He knew that he was provoking her, but Andy didn’t care. Anything was preferable to being ignored.

Roz smiled sweetly at him. ‘I’ll kiss you again when hell freezes over. Now, why don’t you be a good boy and give me the key? I’m sure Miss Sweetness and Light is missing you.’

‘Ariana?’ He pretended not to understand.

The slight flush on her cheekbones and the tiny pulse
that hammered in her neck were the only signs that she was struggling for control.

‘Why would she be looking for me?’ he asked.

An impatient noise escaped her and her blue eyes filled with anger. She was going to blow. ‘You kissed her at our engagement party. You spent the whole time discussing Bishop freaking Berkeley and you couldn’t wait to get back to Belfast so that you could hook up with her again.’

‘Did anyone ever tell you that you look beautiful when you’re angry?’ His words were enough to push her over the edge.

Andy almost welcomed the blow that struck his cheek. She didn’t get a chance to repeat it. He grasped her wrist and twisted her arm behind her back. Roz stumbled on her heels and he took the opportunity to immobilize her other arm and pull her into his embrace.

Roz stood stiff and unyielding in his arms, her chest rising and falling quickly, drawing attention to the magnificent breasts he had lusted after all evening.

‘My face is up here,’ she snapped.

‘Why, so it is.’

His first assault was on her jaw, a light, barely there brush of his mouth. Taking his time, he worked his way down her neck, nibbling, and sucking at her tender skin. He blew softly on her pulse point and she shivered, but she wasn’t giving in so easily.

‘If you think that you can romance me into forgiving you with a few kisses –’

‘I have no intention of romancing you. In fact, I believe you’re due a punishment.’

‘What?’

Andy took advantage of her outrage. He released her hands and quickly hefted her over his shoulder, giving her a sharp smack on the ass for good measure. Ignoring the thumps on his back, he carried her to the corner of the library and with his free hand found the locking mechanism which made a section of shelves swing out.

‘You bastard. Where are you taking me?’

Andy switched on the light and made his way down the narrow staircase. Behind him he heard a thunk as the shelves swung back into place. ‘I thought you’d like a tour of my dungeon.’

The secret room was one of the oldest parts of the house. His father speculated that it had been intended to be used as a small wine cellar, for the stuff that had been smuggled during the Napoleonic wars. Thankfully, Dougal had never got around to fitting it out.

A few rusted metal fittings on the walls had made Andy speculate that he might have had a kinky ancestor or a serial killer in the family. Either way, he had long ago commandeered the space as his personal gym. Most of the equipment was innocent enough, but with a little imagination, it could be used for a naughtier purpose.

Roz was spitting like a feral kitten when he set her down on a padded bench. ‘Are you out of your freaking mind?’

She stared around her. The windowless space was illuminated by recessed lighting and looked modern and luxurious. There was a sinister wooden frame in one corner, a padded bench, a wide divan covered by red plush covers that looked temptingly soft to the touch, and shiny new hooks on the walls and the roof.

‘What do you think you’re going to do to me, you overgrown ox?’ Roz wasn’t going to let him get away with this. ‘You can’t just drag me off to your man cave.’

Andy smiled, not a nice smile, and something quivered and melted inside her. ‘I just did. You’ve had enough time showing off. Now it’s time to pay the piper.’

‘I was enjoying myself for the first time all evening. Up ’til then, everyone was ignoring me, including you.’ It was surprising how much that hurt.

His narrowed eyes were intent on her. ‘I’m not ignoring you now.’

No, the intensity that radiated from him was so strong she was branded by it. The room was warm enough that she felt overdressed. She had a suspicion that Andy intended to remedy that soon and a tiny part of her welcomed the idea.

Not that she would ever tell him. It was time to put him straight about something. She straightened up so that she could look him in the eye. To her annoyance, he was taller
than her. ‘Let’s be clear here. You’re pretty, and I think with the right training, you could be a good sub. But I don’t have time to train you.’

She spoke with the tone of absolute certainty that she used when she was dealing with a new submissive. One of the things Dad had taught her was that people reacted according to your attitude. Of course, he had been thinking of dressing like a cop and getting people to hand over their car, shop takings or credit card details, but it worked in other ways too. Adopt an ‘obey or die’ attitude and men always did what she told them.

Always.

Andy laughed. ‘Oh Roz, you’re magnificent. I could watch you command every man in the house. But not me. While we’re here, I’m in charge.’

He picked her up and kissed her open mouth before she could splutter at him.

The kiss was hot and proprietary and said more clearly than words that Andy was claiming her.

‘You must be out of your –’ Before she could finish the sentence, he kissed her again, even more forcefully.

‘And now it’s time to teach you who is in charge.’

He set her on her feet and pulled her zipper down slowly. The form-fitting dress was tight enough that it would peel apart as soon as it was unzipped. By the time his hand had reached her hips, only the pressure of his chest was keeping it up. If she pushed him away, her dress would fall to the floor.

Roz was torn between wanting to see his eyes when the dress fell, and enjoying the feeling of his arms around her.

They’d had sex. Hot, sweaty, breathless sex, but she
craved the feeling of his skin against hers more than an orgasm.

Hell, orgasms were easy. She could do that herself with her fingers and a few wicked images, not necessarily of Andy. Throw in a battery-powered rabbit and she could come in under a minute. It was a physical reaction. Nothing more. Do this and this at that pressure for this amount of time, and enjoy the ride.

But the heat and smell and feel of another human being holding her in his arms? That was valuable and something she didn’t want to lose. If he wanted to delude himself that he could dominate her, it was a small price to pay to feed her skin hunger.

Andy pushed her back enough to allow the dress to fall and unclipped her bra. A small, detached part of her mind noticed that he was far too practised at that. But the heat in his eyes as he looked down at her was real. Her nipples pebbled under his intent gaze and he touched them with a wondering fingertip. ‘Such beauties. The things I’m going to do to them.’

She stood before him wearing a tiny pair of red panties and smoke-grey hold-up stockings. She was five foot seven, and when she wore heels, she was taller than most men. Andy topped her by a few inches and next to his sinewy strength, she felt petite and delicate.

The expression in his eyes was avid and determined. Andy was going to have her.

She couldn’t decide if she was hopelessly turned on, or annoyed. Damn it, she wasn’t one of his mousey little country girls who did whatever he said. He didn’t impress her with the Lord of the Manor thing. But the firmness
of his mouth, the flare of his nostrils, was impossibly tempting.

‘Very nice,’ he said, his voice a little hoarse. ‘I usually like suspenders but those hold-ups look good on you. Now, lose the knickers.’

‘What?’

‘You heard me.’

He expected her to take down her own panties, bare herself to his eyes? Make herself vulnerable and available to whatever he planned to do to her? He must be out of his mind. She wasn’t going to do that.

‘This isn’t fair. I’m almost naked and you’re fully dressed.’

It was almost funny how fast Andy ripped off his shirt. Buttons flew as he yanked at it. Too late, he realized he had forgotten to take off his cuff links and had to pull the shirt up again while he fought to get them free. He dropped the pieces of gold on the floor, not bothering to see where they landed.

His chest was as magnificent as she remembered. His muscles were sharply defined and the tanned skin gleamed. The light dusting of hair was enough to stop him being too pretty and looking like a model. His chest rose and fell as he stared at her.

‘Now you.’

Roz slid a finger inside the elastic and eased it away from her skin. It slipped down an inch. She gave a little wiggle and it fell all the way to her feet. ‘The stockings stay on,’ she told him.

‘If they do, I will rip them off,’ he warned her.

He had paid for them, so he would be ripping his own
stockings, but damn it, Roz wasn’t used to owning anything this gorgeous. She didn’t want to ruin them. She eased them down her thighs, making a point of drawing it out like a burlesque dancer, teasing him. It was fun watching his eyes narrow as she slowed her movements still more. She had him. Men were so predictable.

But when the stockings were off, he dragged her close, his grip showing no weakness. Her breasts were pressed against his chest and she caught her breath at the sheer perfection of the contact. He had the right amount of hair to cushion and tease her nipples to aching hardness, and his heat warmed her from the inside out.

To her surprise, he turned her around so her back was to him as he picked up a coil of rope. It was pink and she caught the distinctive scent of hemp.

‘I don’t like to be tied,’ she said. Allowing someone else that much power over her had always freaked her, even in her imagination. She knew, with a bone deep certainty, that she had to stay in control, no matter what. She couldn’t afford to be vulnerable. The risk was too high.

Andy shook his head. ‘You need it. I’ve watched you. You’re always planning, always thinking four moves ahead.’

‘Five,’ she snapped.

‘And you need to relax. I’m going to tie you up, so that you don’t have to do anything.’

‘You’re going to tie me up, no matter how I feel, is that it? Don’t I get a say?’ Her anger was rising at his high-handedness.

And something else, which she refused to acknowledge.

‘Sure you do. Say the word “Bunny” and I stop. In fact, everything stops. I tell my parents what we’re doing and tell Niall to get someone else to look after you.’

‘That’s blackmail.’

‘No, it’s your safe word. It safe words you out of this entire situation, but I don’t want you to use it lightly.’ He held up the coil of pink rope. ‘Shall we begin?’

She turned her head to stare at him in frustration. Damn it, she didn’t like being tied up and out of control, but she didn’t want to stop him either. The thought of Poppy’s face when she realized Roz wasn’t her future daughter-in-law haunted her. She didn’t want to see her disappointment.

‘Oh, very well. But don’t take all night, I’d like to get back to the party,’ she said.

Andy laughed. ‘I’ll do my best to keep you entertained.’

He whipped the rope out to its full length, before looping it around her chest, above and below her breasts, knotting it at the back, then wrapping a couple of loops around her breasts.

‘Rope gives me better uplift than a Wonderbra,’ Roz told him, amazed by the effect.

‘You ain’t seen nothing yet,’ Andy drawled in a fake American accent. His expert fingers fastened the knots rapidly before pulling her hands behind her and tying those too.

‘Hey!’ she protested.

It didn’t stop him; he did something to the loops and her wrists were securely tied behind her. She tugged. The position wasn’t uncomfortable and nothing was pressing
or tight, but she wasn’t going to get free until he untied her.

He stood back to admire her. ‘You look so beautiful like that, very sexy.’ He bent to give her nipples a quick kiss before picking her up and putting her on the divan. ‘But you’re not finished yet.’

The covers were soft against her skin and she was tempted to burrow into them. The way her arms were tied behind her felt odd, but wasn’t too uncomfortable on the padded divan. This room was warm and softly lit, and it occurred to her that she couldn’t hear the party that must still be going on.

‘It’s soundproof,’ Andy told her when she asked. ‘You can scream as loudly as you like. Don’t worry about disturbing anyone.’

‘I don’t scream.’ She was offended by the idea. She wasn’t some silly child who thought that screaming would make any difference to what happened. Over the years she had learnt that it was what you did that mattered.

‘We’ll see.’ Andy took one of her legs in his hands and admired it. He kissed her knee before bending it so that her ankle was close to her bottom, then he proceeded to tie it into place. Andy tied her other leg quickly. She was immobilized.

‘And the last detail.’ Andy took out a length of white muslin, put it around her eyes and tied it. She wasn’t in pitch dark, but Roz couldn’t see anything. ‘Now for the fun.’

Her legs weren’t tied together and she could move around but her hands and feet were out of her control, and the blindfold had reduced her world to her sense of
hearing, smell and touch. She twisted and found she could move from front to back or even sit up, but with great difficulty, and she couldn’t go anywhere.

Roz flopped around, struggling against her bonds, trying to see how tightly they held her. Andy, damn him, knew what he was doing. The knots were out of reach of her fingers and were slither-proof. She was trapped. Roz had no choice but to endure whatever Andy had in mind, and a tiny shiver shook her at the thought.

He pulled her up so that she was leaning back against his chest. She could feel his trousers against her bum and she wondered why he was still wearing them.

Then he trailed his hands over her sides and she forgot everything else. She had to accept whatever he did to her. Every caress was magnified. The gentle drag of his fingertips was like a brand. She gasped.

No, she wasn’t going along with this. Andy had tied her up, but that didn’t give him power over her. She wasn’t some little sub who got turned on by a man who bossed her about. She was the one who gave orders and men rushed to obey her.

‘Tell me when you’re done,’ she said in as bored a tone as she could manage.

He laughed, and nipped her neck. She was surrounded by him, by his heat and masculine scent, a mixture of sandalwood, musk and pure Andy. The nip wasn’t hard, but there was something primitive about allowing it. She was female, imprisoned and controlled by a powerful male.

Andy turned his attention to her ear, which he explored with tongue and teeth, driving her mad. Her ears were so sensitive that she could never decide if she loved or hated
having them touched. He flicked his tongue into a whorl and whispered, ‘You’re mine.’

Even while she fought to remain impassive, to be as inert as possible, she reacted.

She melted at the possessive note, her insides clenching with need as his big hands found her breasts. Her skin was on fire, eager for his touch. He pinched one nipple and she gasped.

Andy took advantage of her open mouth to kiss her, a hard kiss that was claim and brand and promise all at once. ‘You can fight all you like,’ he told her. ‘It can only end one way.’

Another kiss. ‘My way.’

His tormenting fingers continued to play with her breasts, teasing the nipples, advancing and retreating. It was going to drive her crazy. She struggled against her bonds again, but they held firm.

‘Forget it, Roz. We’re going to be here all night. And all day tomorrow, or as long as it takes.’

How long had they been here? She had no idea. With no outside sounds, there was a womblike quality to this room. She could be anywhere in the universe, outside of time and space.

No matter how much she wiggled, Andy kept up those sense-shattering caresses. She fought to keep her mind detached, to think about the scam she was going to run. She needed to talk to Frankie soon about buying the horse and –

Andy bit her other earlobe; fire streaked through her and she forgot her own name.

‘Are you still there?’ she managed. She had to get him to stop.