INV 2 - An Invitation, Ariel's Pet Page 2
6
Qwillia Rain
Once through the door, he crossed to the desk. A pile of papers was neatly stacked on one corner of the battered desk, right where Alayna had assured him they would be when he'd spoken to her after her arrival at the mansion earlier that morning.
She'd warned him Ariel would be upset about the changes when they discussed how he'd help out at the café, but she hadn't warned him her sister would be such a brat about things. The natural inclination to coax Ariel to heel tugged at his control. He'd have to resist picturing her as a willful submissive in need a firm hand to train her in the ways to meet her master's requests.
The temptation to revert to his dominant tendencies would be hard to fight, but to keep the peace, he'd definitely make an effort.
He reached for the stack of papers.
“Keep your hands off those.” Ariel was poised in the doorway. Her bright green eyes glared at him. The black bandanna she'd worn was gripped in one hand, exposing the vibrant blue hair that covered her head in a silky cap, matched the dyed eyebrows, and emphasized her soft ivory skin.
There was no doubt Ariel was sexy. Dane appreciated the full curves of a pretty woman; what man wouldn't? Short, yes, but full figured and comfortable in her skin. He could read the satisfaction she took in her appearance in the way she stood, how she walked, even the way she plunged ahead when she confronted him. He cursed the buzz of attraction thrumming through his body. Now was not the time to get turned on by all the features Ariel possessed. Not when those elements fused with the acid tongue and nasty disposition of a termagant. He'd be smart to keep his distance.
Hands braced on the desk, he leaned forward and watched her step into the room. The look on her face and the glare in her eyes warned him she wasn't about to give up. She's not your sub.
Let her vent. She'll get over it soon enough. “Ariel, let's not argue over this, okay?”
“Oh, there's no argument, Mr. Reese.” Ariel stepped forward and swept up the papers. “I'll take care of the paperwork. I'll take care of the kitchen. And you can toddle on back to your big old mansion down the road. Play master to all the little girls who've paid for the opportunity to be trained by you and your pal Logan Abram.”
Dane drew a deep breath and counted to ten in his head. There's a reason I volunteered for this. Keep it in mind. Logan needs to face his fears. Alayna wants a man strong enough to command her. They must have time together to figure out they're meant for one another. It's only thirty days. I can handle this kid for thirty days.
He waited a few more moments before responding. “You doing the books isn't what your sister expected. She and I discussed how to take care of the café while she's away this month.
She was very clear that you were better suited to work in the kitchen while I handle the financial aspects of the business.”
“Well, Alayna isn't here to cast a vote. You and your business partner made sure of that. So that leaves me in charge, and I vote you leave.”
“Not a democracy here, kid.”
“I haven't been a kid in ten years, Mr. Reese. And this isn't a democracy. It's a dictatorship.
And I'm the head bitch in charge.” She stepped close, dropped the papers on the desk, braced her hands inside his, and leaned in. “Now get the fuck out of my café.”
An Invitation: Ariel's Pet
7
There was no doubt she meant every word she said. Dane could see the determination in her eyes, the set of her mouth, even the way she squared her shoulders as she faced him. He reached for the papers on the desktop between them.
Her hand slapped down on top of them to halt him.
Not about to let the situation devolve into a tug-of-war over a bunch of papers, Dane waited. Silent.
“Will you ever figure out I mean what I say?” Ariel asked, her tone waspish, her mouth tight as she held his gaze.
“I'm aware you mean what you're saying. Now.”
“Then leave. Go back to your office and make some businessman more money than he ought to have.”
“And let you think you've won?” Dane shook his head. “No, Ariel, I think I'll stick around a bit. See how things are run around here.” He leaned closer. His voice dropped to a whisper.
“Get a feel for the place.” He sauntered around the desk and toward the door. “You never know.”
“Never know what?” Ariel demanded, her hand still planted on the papers as she turned to watch him.
Dane grinned over his shoulder at her. “Maybe if Alayna returns, you'll decide to take some lessons. Then you can see the real difference between kinky game play and a true power exchange.”
* * *
Sunset filtered through the curtained windows of the home Ariel shared with her sister, while Ariel sprawled on the sofa and ignored the baseball game on the television. Dane had refused to leave the café until after they'd closed the doors behind the last customer. Through cleanup and counting down the till, he'd stuck around and simply watched her. He'd even hovered at the end of the block and kept an eye on her as she walked home, until she'd shut the front door. A voice niggled in her head. It warned her he was a man of his word, and she'd soon come to regret that.
Things needed to get back to normal. Alayna needed to be home. If she would just come home, things would be okay. Getting rid of him meant her sister would come back.
“If it weren't for him, Alayna wouldn't have run off and abandoned the shop. Oh she was good with the song and dance about being curious, but I'm not blind. She's hot for that Logan guy,” Ariel muttered as she keyed the A Master's Gift Web site into her laptop. The computer rested on her thighs as she stretched her legs out across the cushions. “I may stay in the kitchen most of the time, but I can see through the pick-up window how much attention she gives Dane's long-haired buddy.
“An invitation, my ass,” she grumbled. Dane was the one who had left the invitation. The crumpled business card lay discarded on the coffee table where she'd tossed it after she keyed in the user name and password scrawled on the back for her sister's use.
She ignored the welcome prompt and immediately went to the photo-gallery page. Ariel grimaced at the memories of how she'd egged Alayna on to make the call. “Shoulda kept my mouth shut.”
8
Qwillia Rain
Should have denied her personal interest in BDSM, no matter how hard. Especially after she and Alayna clicked through the various pages on the Web site. Images of lovers, male and female, bound or in submissive poses still sent tingles through her body.
As she clicked through the images, her mind substituted herself in place of the women who knelt before their masters. Ariel squirmed on the cushion, cognizant of the increase in her heartbeat and the way her breath sped up with each new image she viewed. After scanning down through another section, she halted on a series of photos that depicted a woman as she received punishment. One picture showed the woman as a man's bare hand spanked her naked bottom.
Another showed him wielding a red leather paddle. A third offered a view of the black leather thongs of a flogger as they reddened the woman's bum.
In each shot, an expression of exultation, of sexual bliss, suffused the woman's face. What made Ariel's blood rush through her veins was the man who handled the tools. There was no mistaking who he was. The golden, sun-streaked curls that dusted the man's nape easily identified him. His broad shoulders were bare and damp with sweat. Each muscle was clearly defined, visible beneath his tanned flesh, and glistening from his exertions.
Heat pooled in her center as she stroked a finger over the laptop's screen, followed the way his wide back tapered down to narrow hips and a tight ass hugged by black leather pants.
With a curse, Ariel slammed the computer closed. “No. Uh-uh, not going there.” She drew a deep breath, then a second. For ten years she and her sister had managed Valerian's Root. No way would she let her libido aid an outsider who wanted to push his way into the only home she had left.
&nbs
p; “We ran it after Mom and Dad died. We'll keep running it,” she whispered to the empty room. “It's all I've got left.”
Pain seared her belly, her chest tightened, and she relived the moment ten years earlier when two police officers broke the news about their parents' deaths to her and Alayna. Knowing Alayna wasn't in the house, Ariel felt a heightened the sense of isolation and aloneness—cut adrift from the familiar—wash through her.
Ariel left the laptop on the coffee table, rolled off the sofa, and headed into the kitchen to mix up something for dinner. For herself. Alone. A chill skated up her spine, despite the warmth that lingered from the early-summer evening. Her hands rose and rubbed at the chills that rose along her upper arms.
If she wanted to get the man out of her life—out of both their lives—Ariel was sure she'd be required to resort to a bit more than bluntly telling him to leave the café. It clearly hadn't worked today. He wanted the books, so they were the key.
If I don't let him look at the books, eventually he'll get frustrated enough to go.
“So how do I keep him from the paperwork? Al does it all online. I can't throw away the computer.” Ariel paused in the doorway of the kitchen and looked back at the laptop on the sofa.
A smile spread over her lips. “Or maybe I can.”
* * *
Day 2
Dane was surprised Ariel didn't stop him at the front door the next day. It could be because he'd waited until after the lunch rush started to wind down before he entered the café. Through An Invitation: Ariel's Pet
9
the pick-up window, he could see her watching him. The grin on her lips gave him pause as he strode down the hallway to the office.
“Round two,” Dane muttered.
He didn't doubt she was up to something. Apparently it was too much to ask that she would have taken the time last night to resign herself to his presence this month.
In the office he shrugged out of his suit coat and tossed it over the back of the battered desk chair. One look at the computer and he knew what had prompted the damned grin on Ariel's lips. He rolled back his pale blue silk shirt cuffs and grimaced at the computer in front of him.
“Problem, surfer boy?” Ariel leaned against the office door with her arms crossed over her breasts, a smug grin still on her lips.
“Where are they, Ariel?”
Her bright green eyes opened wide in an attempt to appear guileless. The haughty grin and aura of self-satisfaction spoiled the illusion. “I'm only a cook, remember? I don't know anything about the business. That's why my sister asked you to take care of things, isn't it?”
“Having a bachelor's degree in restaurant management doesn't mean you're just a cook,”
Dane pointed out.
Ariel obviously tried to hide her surprise at his knowledge of her degree, but he could see it in her slightly widened eyes. She brushed her hands together as if she dusted off dirt, then turned and walked away. Soft laughter spilled from her lips. Dane cursed and shook his head.
He looked back at the computer where it sat on the corner of the desk. It was a useless paperweight without the power cables, mouse, or keyboard. If he took the time to go to his office to retrieve the necessary components to get the machine running, the last of the lunch customers would be gone. Dane didn't doubt Ariel would lock the doors against him. This early in the game, he wasn't about to divulge the fact that Alayna had given him her key to the café as well as the alarm code. Ariel was sure to react badly if she knew how much her sister trusted him. And a woman with access to very sharp knives and the knowledge of how to use them was not someone a smart man pissed off.
“Day two and she's still a brat,” he muttered. He dragged his suit coat from the back of the desk chair and dug his cell phone from the pocket. “Logan better fucking appreciate all I'll have to put up with for him.” Dane punched a number in speed dial and waited.
“A and R Consulting, how may I help you?” The tone was crisp, professional. Dane hadn't expected anything less from Logan's assistant. “Jordan, it's Dane. Lock up the office and go down to Randolph's to pick up a few items, then deliver them to me at Valerian's Root.”
He ran down the items he wanted and waited for Jordan to confirm before he hung up and returned his phone to the jacket pocket. Dane didn't bother with the desk chair. He considered it more prudent that he be in the dining area of the café to make sure Jordan made it past the blue-haired guard dog. He did tug open the top drawer of the desk to find the sheaf of papers Ariel had snatched away from him the day before. “At least I'll have some work to do while I wait.”
Only a few customers filled the seats in the café. A quick glance at his watch confirmed there were still nearly forty-five minutes until the café closed. At the counter, Dane smiled at the petite blonde behind the register. “DeeDee, can I get a cup of coffee, please?”
A blush filled the girl's cheeks as she smiled back. “Sure.”
10
Qwillia Rain
Through the pick-up window over her shoulder, he saw Ariel's head come up and her eyes narrow as she glared at him. Ignoring her, he crossed the dining area and settled into the empty booth nearest the door. He slid onto the vinyl seat and made sure he faced the kitchen so he could keep Ariel in sight.
He could practically hear the curses in her head as her gaze dropped to the pile of invoices and bills he set on the table in front of him. Dane made sure to smile at her as he put on his reading glasses.
A loud pop drew her gaze down to an object in front of her. Probably wishes she'd taken these files away when she disabled the computer. So much fire in her. And yet she's so intent on locking herself away from the world.
Logan and Dane hadn't made their money by accident. Strategies to identify the right tools to use to measure the strengths and weaknesses of the investors they assisted also worked well to discover what made the Valerian women tick. Dane had done his homework on both sisters long before he had left the invitation for Alayna.
It was no surprise both of them had pulled together to deal with their parents' deaths in a car accident a decade ago. Or that they continued to share the same house, spent six days of the week—sometimes seven—at the café, and shunned a social life beyond a handful of nights at various clubs on Ariel's part. They were stagnant, unable to see themselves as anything but anchors for each other. Unable to trust anyone outside their chosen circle. Until Alayna had made her phone call.
When DeeDee wiggled onto the seat opposite him, his attention was drawn from his thoughts to her. Her blonde hair was pulled up into a sassy ponytail, and the open buttons on her white blouse displayed an ample amount of cleavage. When she leaned forward to place a cup of coffee in front of him, Dane knew the view of a lacy bra and peaked nipples was intentional. He pulled off his glasses and tucked them into his shirt pocket.
“Ariel mentioned Alayna would be gone for a month, but she never mentioned someone might come in to help with the paperwork,” DeeDee said.
“I'm sure she didn't. She seems like a very independent lady.”
DeeDee giggled and nodded. “She is. She really doesn't like to have other people trying to run the show.” Leaning forward, DeeDee set her hand over his wrist. “I've worked for Alayna and Ariel for six years, and I've never seen either one of them take a vacation.”
Over her head, Dane saw Ariel glaring from the kitchen. Her gaze seemed focused on DeeDee more than him, but he was careful to keep his smile hidden.
The bubbly twenty-two-year-old waitress played with her hair and grinned at him. “So will you be here all day while Alayna's gone?” She shifted and propped her arms on the table. The new position plumped her breasts and strained the hold of the buttons on her blouse.
There was more than mere flirtation in her eyes. Dane had seen the same look in the faces of people curious about the Dominant/submissive lifestyle. Women and men who'd played sexy games with their partners. And her comfort in displaying her assets to him belied the innoce
nt-girl-next-door look of sweetness associated with her pretty face and blonde hair. He didn't doubt she would accept an invitation to A Master's Gift were one issued.
A quick glance at the pick-up window made him work to subdue a chuckle. Dane could practically read the displeasure on Ariel's face. No doubt she wanted to label her employee a traitor to the cause.
An Invitation: Ariel's Pet
11
“DeeDee!” Ariel called, interrupting their conversation. “Get the condoms— condiments!”
He saw Ariel's green eyes go wide and her face flush at her verbal gaffe. A choked cough from DeeDee and the crash as something hit the tiled kitchen floor mixed with the soft laughter from the few customers in the dining area confirmed he wasn't mistaken about what he'd heard.
Ariel spun away from the window and disappeared from sight.
Dane dropped his gaze to DeeDee's pink cheeks.
“I guess I better get back to work.” She giggled and slid out of the booth.
He watched her saunter back to the counter, the sway of her hips more than suggestive, but Dane's mind wasn't focused on her. It was focused on watching Ariel pace between the prep station and the large coolers next to the deep sinks. Her head stayed bent, her eyes down.
The urge to direct her to lift her head and look at him whispered through his mind. Look at me. Show me what you really want. Show me how much you would do to get what you want. Let me see it. Let me see you. He shook off the compulsion to command her.
She's not my sub, he reminded himself.
* * *
Day 3
Arguments don't work. The cold shoulder doesn't work. And hiding the damned computer cables doesn't work. Ariel refused to think about the humiliation of her foot-in-mouth error the day before. She'd avoided Dane and kept her mouth shut for the rest of the day, until she'd set the alarm and locked the door. The fact he'd practically walked her to her front door shouldn't have made her feel guilty.