The Seller

"No." She smiled. "I think I remember him from a small business conference a few months back."

"Ah, I see."

"At first I thought what if I see him at another business meeting he'll know what I'm into." She chuckled.

"Did it bother you?"

"No, in fact it gave me a bit of a thrill, the secret angle." Her face flushed and mischief sparkled in her eyes. "Besides, I'm sure he'd be discreet. He has to be, I'm sure."

"Absolutely."

"What about you, do any of your business colleagues know about your …um…specialist interests?"

Lucas couldn't help but be amused. "Specialist interests, huh? I don't make a big thing of it, but neither do I hide it. It wouldn't bother me if it was public knowledge. Some colleagues know, mostly from being out there in the BDSM club scene. If you meet people under those circumstances it's hardly cause for mutual blackmail."

"Club scene..?" Curiosity filled her expression.

"There are a couple of places I go to, in London."

She studied him for a little while, as if imagining it, then took a sip of her wine. "What do you like about going there?"

"The freedom to express, I guess. To wear your fetish freely."

Her eyes widened. "I'm fascinated."

"I'm glad you want to explore."

"With you," she quickly clarified.

He lifted his brows, urging her to say more.

"I feel safe with you."

"That pleases me. I want you to feel you can let go, enjoy, and yet be safe."

"You're in charge." Her mouth curved, her glance teasing. "That's your role, being boss."

Lucas shrugged one shoulder. "Born to it, clearly."

The mood was light, and that felt good, but he took the opportunity to say a bit more on the matter. "I enjoy the responsibility, obviously I do. There's a concern that haunts me though. Fear of going too far, fear of hurting you."

He stared into her eyes and wondered if she'd understand quite how much that bugged him.

"Lucas, the only pain I experienced was the pleasurable, arousing sort."

"You promise me, sincerely promise me you'd say something if that wasn't the case?"

"You asked me this before and I already promised." She cocked her head on one side. "What's bothering you, don't you trust me to say if I'm uncomfortable?"

She'd sensed his unease. Lucas admired her sensitivity. "Making someone promise and then having it thrown back at you later is difficult."

"What do you mean? Please explain." She looked a little wary, as if she wasn't sure she wanted to know. He couldn't blame her. He wasn't keen on hearing people's sexual history either, although he was curious about hers – even if it made his blood boil with jealousy and Neanderthal rage to think of her with another man. "My ex-wife, Clara. When things became acrimonious she said she played the submissive because it was what I wanted, not what she wanted. It floored me. It seemed appalling that I didn't sense it. I was disgusted with myself."

Naomi frowned. "But she should have said something when it was relevant, not as an attack after the event."

"I agree. It was used as a weapon, but it stuck in my head and I'm very cautious about being certain – being certain it's what you want."

She smiled, and pressed her head back into the pillows. She looked like a content kitten and some of the burden on his shoulders lightened. "Lucas, I wish you'd explained the reasons for your concern days ago. I'm sure you're worrying over nothing, people say bad things in the heat of argument."