It wasn’t a question. “Physically, yes. This version of her is quite lovely. She’s got a certain fragile air about her that calls to my dominant side. Unfortunately, I need more than that, as I’ve proven in the past.”
“You’ve had long-term partners?” Julian asked.
“I’ve had girlfriends I played with,” he allowed because he wasn’t about to go into his personal history with Julian Lodge. “I’ve never had a permanent submissive, and I don’t think I will.”
“If Tessa is any indicator, you prefer a play partner to a sub.” Julian didn’t look his way but kept those dark eyes on the target, who was fidgeting now, looking back down at the contract Finn had no doubt recently gone over with her.
So they’d checked him out, too. “I’m not looking to pair up with anyone. This is a job, Mr. Lodge.”
“Yes, but you could learn something about yourself, too. If I’m correct, I think one of Vanessa’s talents is adapting to her circumstances,” Julian said. “She survives. It’s what she does. In some ways, I can understand and appreciate that. But I cannot allow Danielle and Chloe to be hurt by her. So figure it out for me, Mr. Malone. Tell me if I need to handle her or if she’s an innocent victim in all of this.”
“I doubt she’s innocent.” Michael needed to harden himself because she looked awfully innocent to him. She looked soft, and his protective side wanted to come out.
“There are many ways a person can be innocent, and I need to remember that,” Julian said with a sigh. His arm went around Finn’s shoulders. “You should, too. We’ll be here watching. Good luck.”
He didn’t need luck. All he needed was his name and the call of the Malone billions.
Michael stepped out and got ready to perform.
* * * *
Vanessa pulled her thin cardigan around her and wondered if Julian Lodge was trying to freeze her out. Or perhaps the dungeon was kept cold for other reasons.
Not that it looked much like she’d thought it would. She’d envisioned some torture chamber, but what she’d seen so far resembled a decadent dream. It reminded her of a movie where the sex was tastefully done and likely ended in happily, if kinkily, ever after.
She could see Dani here. And Finn. She hadn’t been able to picture it before, but the place had a timeless elegance, a beauty to it that would call to those two. She could see them playing in here. That was what she’d called it. Play.
Nicki had loved it here. Her sister had talked about how she’d found herself in this place, how she’d learned to love her body in this dungeon.
What would it be like to look in the mirror and not check off all the things she needed to change? She’d purposefully put on some weight to change her shape, and she knew it was healthy weight, but there was a part of her that panicked when she saw those curves.
She blinked back tears again. It was that kind of day, and she still had so much to get through. In a couple of days she would have to find a hotel she could afford and hole up there for a while, which meant packing what little she had and trying to sneak away without a picture being taken.
She liked the fact that no one had managed to take a picture of how she looked now. If they took her picture and plastered it everywhere, it would feel like she’d lost something.
The door came open, and Vanessa took a quick breath to banish the unwanted tears. The man walking in wouldn’t be impressed. She stood, ready to face the man who would be in charge of her for the next six weeks. Technically this was supposed to be a meeting to figure out if she could accept Master Michael as a training Dom, but it wasn’t like she was going to turn him away.
Of course, he could turn her away, and then it would take longer before she could get started. She had to remember that no matter who walked through that door, she needed to make sure he wanted to mentor her. It didn’t matter how scary he was, how unattracted to him she was, how much she didn’t want to spend time with him. She had to make him want to spend time with her. She’d gone through this a million times in her head. She expected Julian to send a hardass sadist to scare her away.
She turned and realized the situation was far worse.
He was gorgeous. Six foot three or four, and in an elegant suit that had almost certainly been made for him. She pegged him around thirty-five, perhaps forty, with stunning green eyes and a jawline any leading man would kill for. He was a supersexy comic book hero. Or a James Bond.