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Emerson shook her head, trying to focus on the piece of pre-Columbian pottery that she was supposed to be authenticating and placing a value on for insurance purposes. How did one place a value on something that was priceless? While Kendra specialized in art and Tegan in gems and jewelry, Emerson’s specialty was antiquities—those objects from the Mediterranean dating back before the Middle Ages, as well as those from earlier periods dating back thousands of years.
Normally, she could get lost in the beauty and history of pieces such as the one before her. It had been sold to the insurance company’s client as being from the Olmec civilization of Mesoamerica, which had existed long before the Spanish Conquest. To think she was holding something that someone thousands of years ago had used in their everyday life. Would they have ever thought something so mundane to them would be so prized by those who would come long after?
But today was anything but normal, and she couldn’t focus.
She had to admit, if only to herself, that it wasn’t just the idea of the intense sexual connection she already felt with Viktor that had her on edge; it was the thought that he might spank her that had her all hot and bothered. She’d never been spanked; never even considered that she might want to be. Wouldn’t it be embarrassing or even humiliating and demeaning? She kept telling herself she shouldn’t hunger for such a thing… and yet she did.
And being tied up? Being forced to endure whatever he chose to do? She’d read about Shibari and how many practitioners—both the one doing the binding and the one being bound—found a sense of peace and well-being. That couldn’t be a bad thing, could it?
There was a knock at the door. It sounded insistent. She looked up and realized that her sisters had not yet materialized in the office. There could be any number of reasons for that, but Emerson suspected they were avoiding her. She didn’t blame them, and she wasn’t sure she wasn’t grateful. She’d blown them both off the night before, wanting to hug the experience last night to herself—not yet ready to share it.
The knock came again, and Emerson realized it was the same delivery man from the day before. Only this time, he wasn’t wearing the uniform of one of the local delivery companies. Emerson crossed the room and opened the door.
“Good morning, Ms. Ravenel. Mr. Romanov asked me to deliver these to you and to let you know he doesn’t care which one you wear this evening, but that you are not to put it on until instructed to at the club.”
Emerson blushed. Viktor had been adamant that she would dress and undress in his office as he would be the one to help her into and out of her corset. He’d shown her the private bath that could only be accessed through his office, which had included a shower fit for an orgy.
“Thank you. Can I tip you today?”
The delivery guy smiled. “No ma’am. Not today or any day. I work for Mr. Romanov now. He asked me to check to see if the flowers I delivered yesterday were on your desk…”
Emerson stepped back and indicated the flowers. “As you can see, they are.”
“Yes ma’am, but he also said they were to be in that vase I brought you…”
“I haven’t had a chance to change them back.”
“Well, he wanted to know. He also told me I was to check on your flowers—you know just pop in—every couple of days and to ensure they were replaced before they wilted.”
“So, he has you checking up on me?”
“Not at all. I think he just wants you to have fresh flowers without any of the work. My girlfriend works at the flower shop. She wanted to know if there were certain flowers or colors you like or don’t like.”
“I tend to like roses of all kinds and colors, including cabbage roses. I also like what my sister calls old-fashioned flowers—hydrangeas, chrysanthemums, peonies and the like. I’m a real sucker for wildflowers as well. I’m sure whatever she chooses will be fine.”
“Mr. Romanov wanted you to know the car will be here at seven and he is planning on you having dinner. He said to wear something your sister Kendra would approve of.”
Emerson rolled her eyes, groaned, and then laughed. “Thanks, again.”
Part of her wanted to be annoyed that he’d appointed his delivery man to look in on her and report back on the vase, but another part was more inclined to take it at face value as the delivery driver had said.
She knew exactly which dress Kendra would suggest for dinner with Viktor Romanov prior to a private tour of the Carriage House and hopefully some incredible sex. And he wanted to ensure she had replaced the flowers in the priceless vase he had sent home with her. She wondered how he’d greet the news that she had failed to jump to obey his commands. Would that earn her a spanking? And why did the idea of that cause arousal to ripple through her system?
The delivery man tipped his hat and was off to do Viktor’s bidding in what appeared to be a brand-new, state-of-the-art delivery vehicle emblazoned with the double eagle logo of Romanov Imperial. Emerson wondered idly if Viktor really was descended from the Russian imperial family. He certainly looked the part—all dark and noble. And if so, she wondered if he really did possess any of the Fabergé eggs. Lord knew he was rich enough.
She managed to get through the day and made good progress on several evaluations. When she was finished, she headed for her room, took a shower and washed her hair. Once she was finished, dried off and had put on her makeup, she put her hair in a simple braid, knowing that if Viktor wanted to see it down, he could see it in its natural state with no product in or on it.
Bare Bones had delivered two boxes; there were two gorgeous corset and thong sets within. Emerson chose a black corset made of eyelash lace and pleated tulle, which was the perfect coupling of provocative and sensual. It had a small underwire to give structure to the cups and detachable hip tulle panels that revealed more of the lace. There was also a matching thong composed of more silk satin straps with tulle.
He'd also had new lingerie delivered. Nothing cotton or practical about the bras—and no panties had been included. As the corset she’d chosen was black, and the dress she planned to wear was the same color, the black bra from La Perla seemed the obvious choice. The elegant creation featured embroidered motifs on a tulle background with a hand-finished double frastaglio technique, which produced the effect of flowers framing the decolletage. It did have an underwire to support her considerable bust, but the cups were unpadded. She supposed, in its own way, it was every bit as serviceable as the bras she’d worn before, but it was a whole lot sexier.
The dress had been one she kept telling herself she had no need for but couldn’t find it in her heart to give up. Now, she had a place to wear it and a man who would appreciate it—well, at least she had the dress. It was a black asymmetric mini dress made from crepe satin fabric and draped jersey panels. The sleeveless design was accented by a metallic brooch on the narrower of the two shoulders.
She shimmied into the dress, slipped on a pair of black kitten heels, grabbed the box with her chosen corset and thong, and headed down the stairs a few minutes before seven just as the car and driver rolled up. Emerson managed to escape into the car before either of her sisters could catch up with her. Normally, she might have felt bad about not sharing her experiences with them, but it seemed they had chosen to not share theirs with her.
The car drove her to the Carriage House, rolling up to the front entrance. The door was opened by a staff member who ushered her inside.
“Ms. Ravenel, how nice to see you again. Mr. Romanov has asked that you join him in his office.”
