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“Precisely,” he said with a grin.
Suddenly, as if remembering something she knew about him, she tried to dart past him. With the well-honed skills of a predator, he stepped between her and her path to freedom.
“I need to go,” she said, stepping back.
“No; you need to stay and talk with me.”
“Why?”
“Because I want you to.”
“Give me a reason I care about,” she said boldly.
Time to switch tactics. “Tell me, Ms. Ravenel, have I done something to offend or frighten you?”
“Personally? No. As far as I know, this is the first time we’ve ever spoken. But I’ve heard some ripe tales about you and your club.”
He nodded. “Ah, Carriage House. It’s a beautiful, private club…”
“It’s a kink club, and from what I hear, you are the chief deviant and kink master.”
“Deviant is not applicable, and Master is my preferred honorarium when a beautiful woman kneels at my feet and offers herself to me.”
The shock that flashed across her face was almost comical. He should be angry or offended. Viktor was neither. Instead, he was entertained and charmed. He offered her the champagne flute again. “Won’t you have a drink with me?”
Hesitantly, she took the proffered flute. “I can do that, but if you’re expecting me to fall to my knees and call you Master, think again.”
“I would never expect something like that from you, especially in front of this crowd.”
“Afraid they’d call you out?”
“For what? My sexual proclivities? No. Most of them are either members of the club or are so far in debt to me in one way or another they wouldn’t dare.” He closed in on her, realizing he wanted her to understand from the beginning how it would be between them. “If I was so inclined, I could bend you over that railing, ruck your dress up, and fuck you long and hard. It would probably do both of us a world of good.”
She backed away until her body was against the railing. “I’d scream.”
“I suspect you will, but only in a way you will enjoy.”
She shifted the champagne flute from one hand to the other and then brought the now free hand up to slap him across the face.
“I deserved that,” he said, smiling.
“Yes, you did. Tell me, Mr. Romanov, how would your great-great-grandmother and great-aunt respond to you speaking to me that way?”
A moment of pain crossed his face. “Alas, my great-great-grandmother is dead, and my great-aunt is nearing the end of her extraordinary life. Neither, as you rightly suspect, would be pleased with me. But your beauty and the fiery passion that burns within you have awakened that deep part of me that would see you collared and within my care.” He let the words settle in as he heard the music playing shift to the strains of a slow song. “So let me start again. Ms. Ravenel, I am Viktor Romanov. Would you give me the honor of this dance?”
“I don’t dance.”
“Don’t be silly. Everyone dances.”
“But not everyone dances well. I sort of resemble a dodo bird floundering around. It isn’t pretty.”
“Nonsense,” he said, gently taking the glass of champagne from her and setting it down on the railing before kneeling at her feet and gently removing first one shoe and then the other. He stood up, taking her hand and placing it on his shoulder before taking her other hand in his and pulling her close. “I’ll teach you to dance with and for me later. For now, I’ll do all the work.”
“I thought you only liked submissive women and liked to order them to do things for you.”
“Who has filled your pretty head with all these nasty, and might I add, incorrect ideas?”
“My sisters warned me about you.”
