Page 25 of Vienna Bliss

“No, Alena.” Alexander stood.

“You host an event. A masked gala if we’re being stereotypical, a black-tie BDSM party if we want to be a tad more boring. You host it in your home, and as part of the preparations you ask your curator to replace all the existing art you have with more erotic pieces from your collection.”

Rolf sat back, nodding. “You create an outrageous situation as a feint, drawing attention away from the initial event.”

Rolf seemed to be on her side, and if she were smart, she would have tried to build on that, but she wasn’t smart right now. She was ice-cold and feeling very self-destructive.

And had no compunctions about taking Alexander down with her.

She had a bit of sadist in her too, because she wanted to hurt him the way he’d hurt her.

“All he has to tell Absolon about is the ball. I can take care of the rest.”

“That’s insanity,” Alexander declared.

“It would mean losing some privacy. Your staff would know about your predilections, but surely to catch terrorists.”

“There is another way,” Alexander declared.

“I’m sure there is. But my way is the best way, because the best lies always have a bit of truth. And just now I told the truth, didn’t I?”

Rolf looked at her sharply.

Alexander’s jaw worked and his hand was clenched in a fist at his side.

“I’ll plan the party while wearing a collar. Only ever refer to you as Sir.” Alena said slowly. “Let Absolon put it together, exactly what kind of relationship we have.”

“There’s still the issue of time,” Rolf said. “We need time. Are you intending to stay with Alexander, as his submissive?” Rolf’s voice deepened on the last word.

“If I did, it would be as his pet, maybe even his slave. That’s what I was here, after all.” Very deliberately, Alena turned her hands over, palms up.

“Alena, enough. I’m not doing this—”

“I know you don’t want me, but I haven’t told you what will happen at the party.” She took a deep breath and smiled even though with each moment that passed, the rending pain of her breaking heart grew worse. Alexander’s occasional denials and refusals were sharp pains, like a stiletto between the ribs, in comparison.

“The night of the gala, each Dom who arrives—and I do hope you’ll come, Agent Pedersen, excuse me, I mean Master Rolf—will be given a paddle.”

“Absolutely not.” Alexander shoved a chair out of the way. It flew back and hit the wall as he advanced on her.

“Not that kind of paddle, though I suppose that if I took enough pain medication first I could handle a mass beating, but I meant a bidding paddle.”

Alexander grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her a little.

Rolf was on his feet. “Mr. Wagner…Alexander…”

Alena looked up into his beloved face and for a moment she was able to trick herself into thinking that he loved her. The way he was looking at her could have easily been mistaken for the look of a man who was terrified for the woman he loved.

But that was her wishful thinking. That look belonged to a good man who felt guilty. A man who also wanted her out of his life as fast as possible.

“At the end of the party, you auction me off to the highest bidder,” she breathed. “Absolon will be, perhaps a bit shocked at your sexual predilections, but won’t suspect anything beyond that.”

“Halt,” Alexander growled.

“Interpol is happy, you’re…if not exactly happy, you’ve done your part, at the cost of some of your privacy.” Alena leaned in, as if she were going to kiss him. “And I’ll be out of your life, forever.”

Chapter 6

“Welcome home, Mr. Wagner.” His valet was waiting for them when they got off the elevator on the top floor of the building. They’d taken it directly from the parking garage, himself, Alena, and Jakob. Ruslan and Finn had taken the other elevator—which went to the lower floors, and were going to check in with a representative from RTW who was waiting in the Wagner Global offices on the first floor.