Page 52 of Winter’s Fire

“I remember.” She had to give it one more try. “Are you sure I can’t—”

“I’m sure!”

“What are you going to do while I’m being pampered?”

“Reconnaissance. Make a few discreet enquiries. I might be able to find out something useful before we attend that welcome cocktail party before dinner.”

The cocktail party was a weekly event intended to introduce new guests to senior members of the resort’s management team. It was preceded by separate orientation sessions for Doms and subs. Logan had already laid down the law about not arousing any suspicion there, with the unspoken rider about him not being around to protect her. His expression had made that quite clear.

“You know, the spa’s going to be busy—there may not be any appointments available today. I could help. It’s not as if we have a lot of time to play with.”

Uh-oh. The trouble she was already in got about a foot deeper. When Logan folded his arms like that, it didn’t bode well.

“You know this suite comes fully equipped? I already checked. There’s a fine wooden paddle there with your name on it.”

Lucy flinched. Logan’s lessons back in his apartment had included a couple of eye-opening sessions on adult toys When she’d smacked her palm with one of the paddles from his personal collection—extensive enough to assume national treasure status—the level of sting had been an unnerving revelation. As a result, paddles didn’t figure on her list of favourite things. She’d take apple strudel over that any day. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

He said nothing, but what he did stunned her into silence. One hand took the hair dryer from her, while the other commandeered her brush, and the next thing she knew he was finishing off the back for her. When he was done, he gathered her hair together and ran his fingers through the waves. The sensation turned her insides to goo.

“You have beautiful hair, Lisa. You should wear it down more often. Would you hold it one side for me, please?”

The collar was only supposed to be part of her disguise, yet when it made contact with her neck, a wonderful sense of rightness wrapped itself around Lucy. The gentle brushes of Logan’s fingers against the sensitive skin of her nape amplified those feelings. With the collar in place, the glide of his finger between her neck and the soft, padded leather as he checked the fit shouldn’t have been more intimate than some of the things he’d done to her while they were having sex, yet it was.

She swayed into his touch. Was it so wrong for her to wish, only for a moment, that they were there on vacation together, facing nothing more taxing than enjoying every thrill, every pleasure the resort had to offer?

“I’ve changed my mind.” Logan’s fingers caressed the top of her shoulders. “We’ll take a look around the place together—it’s what guests would normally do, unless they’re heading for the counselling service.”

A somewhat odd feature for a place such as Nenufar, but even in paradise, it seemed, relationships weren’t immune from trouble.

“Do you think Diana and her boyfriend might have gone for counselling?” Even as she blurted out the question, Lucy wondered what on earth had possessed her. There’d been no indication that their relationship was on the rocks, or even heading that way.

Logan’s hands stilled. “What makes you think that?”

“I don’t know. Forget it, it was a stupid question.”

“At this point, I’ll take anything, but whatever there is to find out, we won’t uncover it here. Wear the yellow sundress for this morning, and don’t forget—no underwear.”

Lucy clamped her thighs together. The blunt instruction was an instant turn-on, and the resulting wetness copious enough to leave visible traces on the chair when she stood. The thought of Logan discovering how easily he could arouse her was mortifying. Any hope she might have harboured, that he’d leave before she had to move, was dashed when her sneaky peek at him in the mirror was met with an eyebrow raised in expectation.

Holding her breath, Lucy rose, her gaze on Logan’s reflection. He glanced down—she winced, but that was nothing compared to the toe-curling embarrassment that flashed through every cell in her body at the appearance of his slow, knowing smile.

With a determined lift of her chin, she headed for the closet, making a mental note to bring some wipes back with her. She’d barely taken a couple of steps before Logan captured her and turned her to the cheval glass in the corner of the bedroom. For sheer eroticism, the image before her was hard to beat. Naked save for the collar and the muscular arm pinning her own arms to her sides and covering her breasts, she felt more protected and cared for than at any other time in her adult life.

His fingers on her mound widened her stance. If he carried on like this, she’d need another shower before leaving the bungalow.

One finger dipped inside her. “Don’t be embarrassed. I love it when you get wet for me, Lisa.” His teeth nibbled at her earlobe. “This is what you do to me.”

There was no mistaking the hard evidence of his arousal when he pulled her closer.

She sucked in a ragged breath. The man was a damn sadist, torturing her with slick, unrelenting strokes of his finger over her swollen, throbbing clit. Each one sent a razor-sharp spear of lust through her. He’d already made her come several times before they even left the bed that morning, and her treacherous body was eager for more.

The torment came to an abrupt end, leaving her needy and bereft. He turned her to face him, and she watched wide-eyed as he licked the finger that had been between her legs.

“Delicious. I think I’ll put you on the menu for breakfast tomorrow.” He pressed a fast, hard kiss to her parted lips. “Go and get dressed, and don’t be long, or we’ll start your anal training early.”

And that well and truly short-circuited her brain. Did he mean it? There was no one around whom they had to convince regarding their cover, so…

“Lisa. Dress. Now.”