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  Lucia’s lip quivered for a moment before she firmed her mouth. “Yes, Madame.” Her voice was soft, the tone one of respect. Martha watched, not speaking, waiting for Madame to signal the meeting was over.

  Madame fisted her hand in Lucia’s shirt and pulled her face to within inches of her own. “Eyes to me.” Lucia raised her head. “You came to me and asked for my ownership. I didn’t force it on you. Trust me now. Honor my request. I will summon you to return here when I need you to attend me again.” She pressed a rough kiss to her cheek and released her shirt. She looked away from Lucia. A fine tremor shook Madame’s hand. She picked up the small hand bell by her chair and rang it once. Gia entered the room. “Take me to my room.”

  Gia assisted her to stand. Martha waited, trying to make sense of what had taken place between Madame and Lucia. Madame glared at Martha, her eyebrow raised and her gaze hard, daring Martha to speak. Martha looked away from her Mistress and watched from under her eyelashes as Madame walked from the room, her fingers wrapped around Gia’s arm and her head high, leaving behind the force of her will.

  Lucia remained kneeling, her head bowed, her hand resting on her cheek where Madame had kissed her. Martha waited until Lucia rose. She kept her head down as she turned away from Martha and left the room, closing the door softly. Martha walked to the window and looked out at the garden. Bees hovered over the late September blooms, a riot of orange and yellow. She chewed her lip as she replayed her meeting with Lucia and Madame. What the hell have I agreed to? This is trouble. She’s trouble. And beautiful. What am I going to do? What are you up to, Madame?

  MARTHA STOOD IN the foyer. She watched Gia as she packed her bags into the trunk of the car. Her heart ached, but she held back the tears that had been a constant threat since her last dinner with Madame. She looked around the foyer, memorizing its detail, knowing the next time she stepped through the door it would be as executor of Madame’s estate.

  Alicia touched her elbow. “It’s time to go.”

  Martha picked up her purse and settled the strap over her arm. She walked out into the early morning sun. Gia slammed the trunk closed before she moved to open Martha’s door.

  “Wait.” Lucia’s voice was loud and commanding.

  Martha stopped and turned back. Lucia came toward her. She wore the sheer gown Madame preferred her submissives wear. A red collar graced her neck, and even though she wore the clothes of a submissive of Givernay, her strong posture and direct steps indicated to Martha even more strongly that outside of the Onyx she was a Mistress, as she had suspected. Martha did not look away from her ripe body on display. Lucia’s nipples tented the sheer fabric.

  Martha raked her gaze over her figure before she looked to her face. “Yes?”

  “I’ll be to you in one week.” Lucia rested her hand on her hip.

  “I’m aware.” Martha raised her eyebrow. “Is there something else? I don’t want to miss my plane.”

  Lucia cocked her head at Martha. “I don’t know why Madame is sending me to you.” She met Martha’s hard gaze with one of her own. She lifted the edge of her collar and dropped it. “I only wear this here. I don’t intend on wearing one ever again once Madame is gone.”

  Martha squared her shoulders. In her heels she was taller than Lucia, and she used it to her advantage. She stepped close, forcing Lucia to look up at her. “What you do, or do not do, is no concern of mine. I am honoring Madame’s request. I do not expect you to be anything at Rowan House other than my guest. Madame asked me to provide a place for you and I will.” She lowered her voice to a harsh whisper. “I don’t like this any more than you do, but for now, it is how it is, unless you’d like to tell Madame otherwise.” She pressed her advantage and stepped closer. “Understand this, guest or no. I will not tolerate anyone disrespecting me.” She touched the edge of Lucia’s collar with the tip of her finger before she trailed her hand down the front of her gown and flicked her nipple.

  A flash of want shone in Lucia’s eyes before it was replaced by an expression of shock and anger. She stepped back, putting distance between them. She clenched her fist in her gown and opened her mouth as if to speak before she closed it and pressed her lips in a thin line. She turned on her heel and walked back to the house, her steps loud on the stone path.

  Martha watched her walk away, pushing away the desire stirring in her belly as she observed the sway of Lucia’s thick hips under the filmy gown, and the way she held her head erect as she retreated into the house. Her eyes. So like Octavia. And yet not. So much pushback. Her mouth is exquisite. Too bad she can’t control it. She waited until the door closed behind Lucia, then settled her fedora on her head before she turned and walked to the car. What are you playing at, Madame?

  Chapter Three

  THE THREAD OF desire for Lucia, begun on the path outside the Onyx, had expanded into a thick coil of want in Martha’s body. She had replayed their last interaction in her mind in an endless loop with various endings, most of them some version of her taking Lucia back inside Madame’s house to show her exactly why she shouldn’t underestimate Martha. All her fantasies featured Lucia submitting to her in exquisite detail. She rearranged the pillows on the bed in the suite of rooms she had set aside for Lucia for the sixth time. She turned and looked around the room. Flowers. I should have ordered flowers. No. Too much. She chewed her lip as she paced the room.

  “Are you sure you want her this close to you? Why not the Blue Suite? It was good enough for the princess we entertained last year.” Elaine quirked her mouth at Martha. “I’ve not seen you like this in forever. Why are you making such a fuss? From what you said, she’s a right bitch.”

  Martha tilted her head at her sister. “Yes. But Madame expects me to…”

  “To what? Take her in? Make her your sub? You’ve been cagy since you got back.” Elaine pulled out the desk chair and sat. She shoved the other chair out with her foot. “Spill it.”

  Martha left the pillow on the bed and took a seat across from her sister. She leaned forward and rested her arms on her knees. “Madame wants me to provide a place for her. She asked me to care for her.” She chewed her lip. “She was—unclear about specifics. I might have left things on a bad note with Lucia.”

  Elaine’s laugh was loud. “I wish you could see your face.” She reached over and patted Martha’s arm. “We’ll take her in hand. She’ll not come here and disrupt what we have. And the fact she is still coming is something. You couldn’t have been so bad.”

  “She’s obeying Madame’s request. She’s a Mistress. We need to show her the proper respect.”

  Elaine snorted. “Respect is earned. I’ll be respectful. Enough.”

  Martha rolled her eyes at her sister and huffed before she pulled her chair closer to the table. “Come on. I want to go over the menu with you.”

  “No. We’ve been over it twice.” Elaine stood up and stretched. “You need to take the edge off. You haven’t been with any of the subs since you returned, not even Myfanwy. Why don’t you give Robin a try again?”

  Martha pursed her lips. “No. Too whorish for me. It’s not what I want.”

  “You mean who.” Elaine frowned at her. “You’ve been a mess since Octavia left. I could kill her for leaving you.”

  “It was for the best. She wasn’t happy. I could sense it. I choose to ignore it until it was too late.” Martha leaned back in her chair and looked at the ceiling.

  Elaine walked to the door. “Then let’s take a walk to the stable. I’ve got my eye on Rachel. Her arms make me want to watch her work. She looks like she could bench-press a house. Or me.”

  Martha laughed. “She’s built. I’ve seen her pick up a twenty-kilo bag of horse feed in each hand and walk to the other end of the barn without breathing hard.” She stretched and shook out her hands. “Fresh air will do me good. Give me a minute to change. I’ll take Bruno out for a ride, give you some time alone with her.”

  “You read my mind.” Elaine led the way, and Martha closed the
door behind them.

  MARTHA TUGGED ON her black leather riding gloves and tightened the buckle on her hard hat. She gathered the reins in her hand before she climbed the mounting block and settled herself onto Bruno’s broad back. She leaned down and adjusted her stirrup. She sat up and smiled at Rachel. “I’ll be a while, but if I’m not back by eleven, search for me.”

  Rachel released Bruno’s bridle and smiled up at her. “Yes, Mistress.” Elaine lifted a well-worn crop and touched it to her brow in salute to Martha. “I’m sure we’ll find a way to keep busy while you’re gone.” She rested her hand on Rachel’s thick shoulder before she tugged at a lock of her hair. Rachel shifted her feet and inclined her body toward Elaine, leaning into her touch.

  Martha rolled her eyes at her sister. She turned Bruno’s head and urged him on with a squeeze of her legs. The morning was crisp, the grass a silver green with the morning frost. Not willing to risk a canter over the slickness of the wet grass, she guided him to the well-traveled path leading to the small stand of trees on the far side of the meadow and kept him to a fast walk. Thoughts of her visit with Madame, and Lucia’s impending arrival, filled her head. I wonder if she rides. It’d be nice to have a someone to ride with again. She pushed away the edge of sadness cutting into her thoughts as she remembered times she had spent with Octavia riding the trails of Rowan House, and what would happen after.

  She rode into the wood and Bruno’s breath puffed out, visible in the chilly air of the forest. The trees were mostly bare. A few leaves remained behind, lone holdouts stubbornly clinging to the branches ready to be rid of them. As she rode deeper into the woods, the rhythm of the horse under her and the comforting smells of horse and leather mixed with the damp fall scent of the forest lifted her spirits and soothed her.

  She came to the fire circle in the center of the woods. The neat stack of firewood and the tidiness of the turnout shed told her she had made the right choice in Rachel. She was as meticulous in her care of the horses and this area as Octavia had been. A vision of Octavia, bare to the waist, hands lashed to the top fence rail, back striped by Martha’s lash, as she begged for the heavy pain she craved, pervaded Martha’s thoughts. She straightened her posture, took a deep breath, and blew it out forcefully. Let it go. Move on. She has. I need to.

  “Right, Bruno?” She dismounted and led the horse to the small fenced paddock. She knotted her reins and clipped a lead shank to his bridle before she tied him to the fence rail. “I won’t be a minute. Behave.” She patted his shoulder. He rubbed his head against her arm, leaning into her touch. She pressed her forehead against his neck, drawing strength from his simple affection. “Promise.”

  Martha stood next to the fire ring. She pulled the letter from her pocket and held it to her nose. The faded scent of Octavia’s cologne clung to the note. She unfolded it, taking care with the brittle paper, and read the words Octavia had written to her when she had pleaded to be hers, to wear Martha’s collar. She dug in her pocket for her lighter. With a steady hand, she rolled the flint and touched the edge of the lighter’s flame to the paper. The thin stationery caught quickly, and she laid it in the fire circle. She watched the blue-and-yellow flame as it curled and burned the creamy white paper to gray ash. When it finished burning, she picked up the bucket of water standing by the fire ring and doused the embers.

  Done then. It’s time. Time to move on.

  “THIS IS YOUR suite.” Martha kept her tone even, wanting to put the tension of their last meeting behind them. She pushed the door open and handed Lucia the key.

  Lucia took the key in her hand and walked ahead of Martha. She pulled her large-brimmed black hat off and set it on the bed. She shrugged off her suit jacket and placed it next to her hat. Lucia turned in a slow circle as she surveyed the room. “This is lovely. Thank you.”

  “I’ll have Millie come and unpack for you.” Martha stood in the doorway and rested her hand on the frame. “We’ve cleared your trunk and camera gear. I’ll have them brought up. I’ll return your phone to you once it’s been cleared. We have the same rules for the staff and guests as the Onyx. Only you, my sister, and myself are allowed to have our phones. Everyone else has to check them out to use them and then return them. We don’t allow any phones or photography equipment in any of the play areas, dungeons, or the stable.”

  “Understood.”

  “If you find you need anything, please let me know. The staff are all pledged to the house and available to you. Anyone with a collar is yours to command, if you—” she met Lucia’s gaze “—have a need.” She turned to leave.

  “Wait. Please.” Lucia called to her.

  Her please and the soft tone in her voice fanned the flame of desire Martha had worked so hard to put out. She stepped back into the room and closed the door behind her. She walked over to Lucia and stopped in front of her. “Yes? Do you need something?”

  “I need to apologize to you.” Lucia lowered her chin to her chest.

  “Not necessary. We were both not at our best. I’ll leave you to get settled.”

  Lucia looked up and into Martha’s face. “I was rude to you. I want us to start over.”

  Martha held her gaze. “I should apologize too. It wasn’t right of me to touch you without your permission.”

  Lucia’s mouth curved into a smile. “I can’t say it didn’t get my attention.”

  Martha looked into Lucia’s eyes, letting her desire show, encouraged by Lucia’s unguarded expression of interest. Her breath quickened, and a surge of desire stirred her.

  Lucia stepped closer and lifted her mouth to Martha. Her mouth. So close. Kiss her. No. Not yet. Not without her consent.

  “I hope in a good way.” Martha stepped back, not trusting herself.

  Lucia laughed and took a step toward Martha, her mien changing from one of contrite apology to predatory in an instant. Martha’s stomach tightened when she heard the full notes of her laugh and observed the change in Lucia’s demeanor. Even more kissable when she laughs. She curled her fingers into her palm to keep from grabbing her by the shoulders and kissing her. She fought the urge to push Lucia, to see what would happen if she challenged her.

  “Yes. After I got over being angry.” Lucia held her gaze a moment longer before she looked away. “You said all the staff are pledged to the house, not to you?” She walked to the edge of the bed and trailed her fingers over the brocade bedspread.

  Does she know about Octavia? Did Madame tell her about Octavia? “No. They are contracted to the house. Sometimes there are personal arrangements between staff, but it does not relieve them of their duties to the house.” Martha shifted her feet and shoved her hands into her pockets.

  “How has it worked out? Any conflicts?” Lucia turned back to Martha and looked into her eyes.

  Martha met her gaze. “Occasionally we have people who choose to leave, but I’d rather have them leave than be unhappy working here. Our guests deserve to have submissives and Mistresses who are emotionally present and like their work.”

  “And you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Do you like your work?” She closed the distance and stood in front of Martha, a teasing light in her eyes.

  “Very much. I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t.”

  Lucia tilted her head and pursed her lips, her expression thoughtful. “Is the bath through there? I need to freshen up after my trip.”

  Martha wanted to linger, to continue getting to know this woman who challenged her. “Yes. Would you like me to send up someone to attend you?”

  “No. I’m used to attending to myself.”

  Perhaps I could help you? Don’t say it. Keep it together. “Would you like a tour of the house? After lunch?”

  “I’d like that.” Lucia unbuttoned the top button of her shirt and pulled the hem from her pants. She unbuttoned the rest of the buttons and stripped off her shirt. The saucy black-and-white polka-dot bra with black lace she wore matched the playfulness in her eyes. “Very much.”
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  Martha studied Lucia’s body, unable to keep herself from admiring her voluptuous curves. When Lucia reached for the button at the top of her trousers, Martha forced herself to turn away from Lucia’s display. “See you at lunch.” She left the room, her steps light, planning her tour.

  THE HALL WAS empty, and Martha was grateful she didn’t encounter any of the house staff on the way to her room. The thick ache of want between her legs drove her steps. She pushed through the door and leaned back against it to close it before she turned the lock. Her face was hot, and she tugged her shirt over her head before tossing it aside. After she toed off her shoes, she lay back on her bed and closed her eyes. She slipped her hand inside her silk tank top and pulled at her nipple until it was a hard point. Visions of Lucia’s sultry curves and full body filled her mind. She moved her hand lower and cupped herself. She kept the other on her nipple and imagined Lucia’s mouth on her, the way her nipples would harden and ache. A soft groan rumbled from her chest. She touched her clit and then lower, drawing the wetness between her legs over her clit. She rubbed faster as she imagined pushing Lucia to her knees and burying her hands in her hair. She moaned, thinking of Lucia’s full lips on her, sucking her clit, as she knelt at her feet. She jacked her clit with slick fingers. She came quietly, her body shuddering as she brought herself off, her mind overflowing with she wanted to do with Lucia. She stroked her clit, riding out the aftershocks.

  Does she want me? Would she submit to me? I want. So much I want with her. Please let her say yes. She looked at the mantel clock. What should I show her first? The playroom? The dungeon? She shivered as she imagined Lucia in the playroom. Playroom first. Then the dungeon.

  Chapter Four

  ELAINE SAT ACROSS from Lucia. Martha watched her sister closely from under her lashes. After Martha had introduced Lucia to Elaine and pleasantries had been exchanged, their conversation had evaporated. Martha’s gut churned, anxious for their tour. Worried about Elaine’s potential to offend, she was unable to manage more than a few bites of her lunch. She sat back and touched her napkin to her mouth. Lucia ate quietly, and Martha admired the way she was cool under Elaine’s scrutiny. Lucia wore a simple black sweater set topped with a slender strand of pearls and khaki trousers. It was simple, elegant, enticing in its understated innocence, and Martha could not stop herself from wondering if she still wore the bra she had seen her in earlier beneath it.