At His Mercy (Masters Club 1)

He was reasonably sure she’d recognized him at the club. Her eyes had widened as they’d locked gazes, her face washing with color. Would she be the one to bring it up? He doubted it.

He set down his pen and lifted his head to meet her eye. Leaning back in his chair, he offered a small smile. “You’re looking well, Jessica. I’m glad to see you’ve recovered.”

Jess drew in a small, startled breath. His remark had been purposely vague. It could have referred to a work matter, or to the previous night’s escapades. She gripped the arms of her chair, her knuckles whitening, her cheeks flushing.

“I’m…sorry?” she stammered.

He felt almost cruel, toying with her in this way. But he wasn’t just satisfying a sadistic itch. It was informative to see how she handled stress.

Keeping his expression pleasant and bland, he continued, “The Lansing merger has been tricky. I understand you put in a lot of extra hours to make the deadline. And your handling of the possible tax implications shows a real mastery of your subject. You have a future in mergers and acquisitions law, if you choose to pursue it.”

He could almost see the inner workings of her brain as she struggled to switch gears. She did well, quickly controlling the storm of emotions that washed briefly over her face. When she spoke again, she’d regained her outward calm, though he thought he detected a slight tremor in her voice.

“Thank you, Mr. Lord. I learned a lot working on the case.”

He nodded. “The client is very pleased and I think we’ll get a favorable outcome. You’ve earned a little break. I’d like you to put out whatever immediate fires you may have burning at the moment, and then take the rest of the day off.”

She looked startled at what might have seemed like a non sequitur. But she rallied quickly, offering, “Thank you, sir, but that’s really not necessary.”

He fixed her with a steady gaze, working to keep the smile off his face. What he had planned would break his own internal rules of compartmentalization, but sometimes rules were made to be broken.

“That wasn’t a request, counselor. It was a directive.”

Color washed again into her pretty face. “Yes, sir.”

His cock twitched at her use of the honorific, even if she’d only meant it as a term of respect for his position as a senior partner, rather than as a proper address to a Master. He steepled his fingers under his chin and regarded her for a long moment.

What he was doing was very unorthodox. But he’d seen something in her last night—something special. She’d handled herself well. She was strong and courageous—traits as essential in a good submissive as obedience and grace. She deserved more than inept scenes with wannabe Doms. She deserved a venue that would meet her needs and then some.

He suspected she would do very well as a Masters Club pleasure sub, but this had to be handled delicately. Being purposely vague, he continued, “I’m going to offer you an opportunity extended to a rare few. It’s not a firm matter, but rather an invitation to a very elite group. It’s not something we will discuss here in the office. An envelope with all the pertinent details will be delivered to your apartment building later today. The contents within are for your eyes only. You’re free to refuse the offer, naturally. Either way, I must ask for your absolute discretion in the matter.”

He watched her struggle with a response. Clearly, she was dying to ask what it was all about. Indeed, he’d expected her to, despite his statement that discussion was off-limits.

But she managed to master her curiosity, saying only, “I understand.” Then, with a mischievous sparkle in those large green eyes, she added, “I do know how to be discreet. What did Shakespeare say? Discretion is the better part of valor? Wouldn’t you agree?”

Startled and amused by her ballsy but subtle reference to the night before, Cameron flashed a grin. “Indeed.” There was more to this girl than met the eye. He rose to his feet and extended his hand across the desk. “It’s been a pleasure talking with you, Jessica.”

Her skin was soft and cool, her hand small in his. He resisted a sudden, ridiculous urge to bring the hand to his lips. Instead, he said, “Thank you for stopping by, Jessica.”

“Actually, it’s Jess. I go by Jess with friends and colleagues.”

“Jess,” Cameron repeated, smiling. He quite liked the nickname. It suited her. “I hope to see more of you soon, Jess.”

Much, much more.

~*~

Despite Mr. Lord’s suggestion—or rather, his directive—that she take the rest of the day off, it was several more hours before Jess actually managed to escape the office. She’d made the mistake of taking several phone calls that had resulted in work she couldn’t in good conscience leave until Monday.