Page 41 of Vienna Bliss

Absolon jerked his head up, looking at Alexander. “An auction?”

“Yes. For a select group of friends.” Alexander touched Alena’s chin. She raised her face, but kept her gaze lowered.

“I see, and you’d like me to…find some pieces for you to auction off.” Alarm touched his features. “You aren’t planning to sell any of the collection, are you?”

The man hadn’t been alarmed at the implication that Alexander was going to auction off a human, but some of the art, well, apparently that was alarming.

Or he hadn’t gotten it yet. Alexander had never been what people would consider normal so he didn’t know how much hinting it would take a “normal” person to jump to the rather salacious conclusion he was trying to steer the man towards.

“No. But I’d like you to organize a showing of suitable pieces to be on display in the large parlor.”

“You want the art switched out by Friday?” Absolon’s tone made it clear he thought Alexander was stupid.

He took a moment to consider how to react. Alexander wrapped his hand around the back of Alena’s neck, his fingers and thumb pressing the pearls gently against her throat.

Alena whimpered as if he were choking her.

“No,” he snapped at her, as if she were a disobedient dog.

She stiffened briefly, and he had to hide the smile. She hated it when he used single-word commands, which meant he was going to get an earful later.

He was looking forward to it.

Alexander switched his attention back to Absolon, who blinked and adjusted his feet. “I will do my best—”

“You will do what I want.” Alexander held Absolon’s gaze. “After recent events—” He applied a tiny amount of pressure and Alena cried out, then quickly switched to a soft whimper. “—I have no patience for excuses.”

“I understand. Of course, Mr. Wagner. What, uh, what kinds of pieces would you like me to bring in?”

“I believe I have some Japanese erotica?”

“Uh, yes, you do. Several prints from the Kinoe no Komatsu, including a lovely one of The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife.”

Alexander raised an eyebrow.

“A woman being pleasured by two octopuses,” Absolon clarified.

He owned an early version of tentacle porn? “That is…exactly what I want.”

“Also I believe the Helmut Newton collection is back, and no longer on loan. Photographs by a German man sometimes referred to as the King of Kink. Groundbreaking for their time.” As he said kink, Absolon’s gaze slid to Alena. He frowned a little.

He’d looked at her when he said kink, so he got it. Didn’t he? “Perfect,” Alexander said aloud.

“How many pieces do you want?” Absolon took his phone from his pocket and started to type on it. “And do you want all the pieces in the room taken down, or just those that would need to be removed to free up wall space?”

While Absolon was looking at his phone Alena glanced over at him and widened her eyes, in a “keep going” expression.

Alexander cleared his throat. “I will leave the details for the decor, including the art, to the event planner, and to her.” Alexander released Alena’s neck and sat forward.

He ran his hand down her chest, and then, while still looking at Absolon, started undoing the buttons of her shirt.

Alena’s breath heaved, each exhale containing a small whimper. Alexander stopped when he hit the waistband of the skirt and sat back. Her shirt was now unbuttoned, but still covering her.

Alena bowed her head, her quick breathing drawing attention to her. Those same rapid breaths making her hard nipples rise and fall under the silk of her shirt.

“I, I look forward to discussing the details. I will review the catalogue.” Absolon was staring at Alena.

Alexander wanted to smash the man’s face into the marble mantelpiece. Alena was his.