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“Careful.” He holds my arm tight, protecting me from stumbling in my heels.
“Thank you.” I cling to him, deciding it’s best to lean on him as I navigate this narrow passage. We reach the bottom safely and the space opens up. The stone floor has been lacquered and polished and it shines under the flickering lights of the chandelier that hangs above our heads.
He moves forward, to another black, arched door.
Here we go. Clips of films from the Fifty Shades franchise flicker through my brain as he reaches for the handle. Whips and chains and leather belts dance through my mind. As I suck in a deep breath, the white heat of fear takes me over. My knees go to jelly, and I tear my hand away from his.
“I can’t do this!” The words burst forth from me as I take a shaky step backward. “I can’t go in there with you.”
“Why not?” He’s so loving this, getting off on my fear. His hand slides into the pocket of his suit pants, probably adjusting his stiffening cock. He does so love to scare me.
“I can’t go in your dirty sex dungeon, I’m just not that kind of girl. I’m sorry, but I’m not. I love this dress, I love the way I look tonight, but I’mCharlie. Flowers and pearls, and the most dangerous thing I do in a day is overeat chocolate.”
“What about wine?” he asks.
“Huh? What do you mean?” I wrap an arm around my belly, my other hand tugging on a strand of hair as I twirl it around a finger. “Of course I like wine.”
“Then I think you’re going to love my dungeon.” He pushes the door open. “Welcome to my speakeasy.”
“What?” I follow behind him into a room that’s been converted into a sexy little bar, the design so sultry and beautiful I just stare. Black leather walls, a mirrored ceiling, more gold chandeliers, light flickering from their modern lines. A polished dark wood bar stretches across one side of the room, complete with a bartender, a young man dressed in black standing at attention waiting to take our order.
High-top two-seater bistro tables dot the room, a single red rose in a black vase sitting in the center of each tabletop. He leads me to one that has small bites laid out on plates. Savory puffed pastries alongside what look like chouquettes, French pastry sugar puffs.
I feel so silly, assuming he wanted to do naughty things with me. What happened on the stairs earlier was just a punishment that got carried away. He’s only inviting me for a drink. Is that a dip of disappointment tugging at my belly?
He holds out a chair for me. Such a gentlemen right now, after teasing me so ruthlessly. I slip into the cool leather seat. “Thank you.”
He takes the seat across from me. “What would you like to drink? Red? White? Champagne?”
The idea of champagne reminds me of that first night I grabbed a second flute from the passing tray and how it lowered my inhibitions, leading me to the alleyway. After our crazy rendezvous on the stairs this morning, I think I’ll play it safe. “Red, please.”
I nibble at a chouquette as he goes to the bar to get our drinks. It’s better than any I’ve had in France. Remy strikes again. Beast returns with two generous pours of red wine.
We sip at the wine. Like the champagne in my room earlier, it’s delicious. He’s got good taste. It’s a comfortable silence but could soon grow awkward. Do I start the small talk? Do I wait for him to speak?
“There’s a hidden tunnel just off of this room. It leads to another boathouse. One you’re actually allowed in.” He gives a lusty grin like he’s thinking of my earlier spanking.
A secret tunnel? This could be good. Could be helpful for tonight. I keep the curious Nancy Drew tone out of my voice. “Oh, really. And what’s in that boathouse?”
“A boat. But what’s incredible is that there’s a waterway running through the boathouse. It leads right to the lake. Back in Prohibition it was used to smuggle in liquor. And this was an actual underground bar. People would travel out here from the city to party. I tried to bring back some of the history of the castle as I renovated it.”
I’m intrigued. I ask him more questions about his renovation, the castle, and the history of the property. I’m surprised to find how easy he is to talk to when he’s in his own space, relaxed like this, a glass of rich wine in his hand. There’s no break in our conversation; it flows like we’ve known one another forever.
Even though I really know nothing about him.
I’m having such a nice time I almost forget the mission I have to put in motion tonight. My stomach flip-flops, wondering if this time I’ll be able to pull it off. As he takes my hand to lead me to the boat, my nervous energy keys up, knowing what I have to do later tonight.
As we walk through the hidden tunnel, I almost think I hear the faint sound of a scream.
12
Beast
The boat waitsfor us on the waterway. It’s a narrow riverboat that I’ve had brought back to life, its cabins filled with honey-colored wood. The channel of aqua water is lit with white lights from beneath, and the smooth surface of the water sparkles under the soft glow of additional lights overhead. The table is already set, a white cloth covering it, tall white candles flickering against the smooth, lacquered walls. The boat remains stationary, bobbing in the waterway here in the boathouse, a little floating restaurant.
We drink more wine and dine on filet mignon, roasted baby potatoes, and vegetables sautéed in one of Remy’s herb butter sauces. The conversation is light. She asks about the castle’s renovations, a subject I find myself able to easily discuss for hours.
The moment I stepped foot on this property, I knew it was mine. The day I closed and got the keys to the castle, I felt settled, like the last piece of my life had fallen into place. I’d been training to be a Bachman for a year. I was finally a brother, and now I had a place of my own.
