Page 31 of To Catch a Sub

Just fucking great.

The last thing Landon needed right now was Rolf.

The senior Interpol agent appeared from the end of the long hall that ran the length of the building. Doors on the left had once led to the factory floor, while the iron spiral staircase at the end of hall—tucked into the back corner of the building—led up to the higher floors.

The hall itself was a mix of elegant and industrial. The brick wall on the right was actually the exterior wall. The exposed brick was suitably distressed with age, and marked with the occasional hole or scrape where something had once been bolted to it.

The left, interior wall was plaster, painted a deep slate-gray that looked black unless the overhead lights were on. The lights themselves were industrial style—black piping and large white bulbs in black guard units that made it look like the lightbulbs were in bondage.

Colette had recovered from her shock. The corners of her mouth were pulled up in that constant half-smile, but now instead of looking inviting, like she wanted others to share in the joke, it gave off the impression that she was laughing at, not with, the person she was smiling at.

Yesterday, she’d smiled like that at Anu while systematically playing the Interpol director.

Andrei was about to get his ass handed to him.

“She’ll need to understand the lifestyle,” Rolf said, his footsteps echoing as he walked closer, “and expect to hear that kind of language, if she’s going to be here.”

Damn it, Rolf was going to fuck up the verbal beating Andrei was about to get. Landon widened his eyes at the other man, hoping he’d get the message and shut up.

“I can teach her not to freeze when I call her a good girl.” Andrei looked Colette up and down.

“Lifestyle?” Colette said, that smirk-smile gone, her eyes wide and worried as she looked back and forth between Rolf and Andrei. “What do you mean?”

For a moment, she was the girl he’d met years ago—the nervous intern. Looking back there had been flashes, moments when it was clear she was playing a part, but he hadn’t realized it at the time.

“You didn’t explain to her what this place is?” Rolf asked with a frown.

“She knows.” Landon propped a shoulder against the wall, prepared to enjoy the show.

“I thought this was a safe house.” Her voice wavered like she was on the edge of tears.

Rolf looked stoic. Andrei was studying her, but his shoulders were slightly hunched with a hint of discomfort.

“It’s a club.” Rolf didn’t mince words. “In particular, it’s a members-only BDSM club Monday to Thursday, and a public nightclub Friday to Sunday.”

“A what club?” Colette pressed a hand against the base of her throat. Too bad she wasn’t wearing pearls so she could clutch them.

“BDSM,” Rolf said matter of factly. “In English, it stands for bondage, domination or discipline, submission and or sadomasochism.” Rolf paused. “It’s a term, not an acronym. If you were wondering.”

Landon had heard Rolf’s lecture on the acronym versus “term” issue.

“You mean a sex club.” Colette sounded scandalized, her French accent thick.

“No. BDSM does not require intercourse.”

“But it’s fun when it does,” Andrei added in a low voice.

“You think sex means intercourse?” Colette asked Rolf. Her voice lost the uncertain, scandalized note, and she’d dropped her hand from her throat.

Rolf and Andrei both narrowed their eyes.

“How very hetero-normative and penetration-focused.” Colette tsked. “But I can’t wait for you to teach me about the concepts of dominance and submission. Actually, there’s a book I know of. Maybe you haven’t read it, because it was written by a French woman, in French. Histoire D’O. Have you heard of it?”

Landon grinned, enjoying the look on the other agents’ faces.

“And I think you mentioned sadism, yes? That was…” She paused, clicking her tongue while staring at the ceiling as if in thought. “Named for a French noble, yes? A Marquis?”

Andrei’s eyes glittered in a look that was almost predatory. He took a step towards Colette.