clung on, her nails digging crescents into his shoulders. She was close, so close.
An insistent tap came on the door. And then another. “Niall?” A man called from outside. “I really need to talk to you.”
The sensual assault stopped. With his temper barely held in check, Niall came to his feet and pulled her robe tightly around her. “Whoever is out there is a dead man.”
Niall stormed over to the door. He was going to kill the intruder. He finally had Sinead to himself, without an audience. God, he loved listening to the noises she made as he pushed her to the brink and held her there.
He had to force himself to remember that she was a client. Usually, he would keep his hands to himself, but searching for the missing ruby, the Fire of Autumn, at a FemDom party in Paris had given him the sort of opportunity most men only dreamed of. And he was not going to waste one minute of it dealing with crap.
He jerked the door open, scowl already in place. “What the fuck do you want?” He was going to tear the servant apart, limb from limb.
He paused at the sight of the man on the other side of the door. It was one of the guests, not a servant.
“Niall Moore, it is you isn't it?” Frederic Killy hesitated, now looking uncertain. He was sweating, despite the comfortable conditions of the Chateau, and turned to cast an anxious eye up the elegant corridor. He was not at all bothered by the fact that Niall was still stark naked. And semi-erect.
Something was wrong. This was not a man on a social call. Niall held the door open. “Come in.”
Killy slipped in, surprisingly stealthy for such a big man. He had the broad shoulders and strong thighs of a rugby player, but a few years working in a laboratory in CERN had softened him a little.
Once inside the room, Killy calmed. He wiped the sweat off his temples and took a breath. “You are Niall Moore, the investigator, aren't you?”
Niall nodded. He tucked a towel around his hips and gestured Killy to go on.
“You won't know me, but I'm the cousin of a woman you rescued in Afghanistan last year. She never stops talking about you, and showed me clipping about your activities. If anyone can help me, you can.”
Killy held an envelope in his hand, and was about to hand it to Niall when he saw Sinead standing beside the bed, her bathrobe tied tightly around her. It hid her luscious curves from the other man, but Niall still resented Killy's presence here with his lady.
Killy , dressed in a pair of casual cotton trousers and a shirt, was the most formally dressed of all of them.
Damn it, his morning had been ruined. It was clear Niall was not going to get lucky in the immediate future. He pulled on a pair of old jeans and a shirt, leaving it unbuttoned to keep the pressure off the bruises and cuts on his back.
“What's the problem?” he asked Killy. He had seen him last night at the party, and knew him by reputation as one of the most brilliant scientists in the world, but had never been formally introduced to him.
“I'd rather speak to you alone,” Killy said. He kept a wary eye on Sinead.
Niall didn't blame him. Most of the time, Sinead O'Sullivan did a good job of disguising herself as a dowdy museum curator. Dressed in a bathrobe, her red hair loose in curls down her back, her pale skin luminous in the morning sunlight, her lips swollen from his kiss, she was a true beauty. But nothing could disguise the razor sharp intelligence in her blue eyes.
And Killy has been there last night when she had revealed a talent with a whip that would scare most men.
“It's okay, I trust—” He stopped himself before he could say “Sinead”. The guests at this party believed she was her twin sister, so there was no point in alerting any of them to the deception. “My mistress,” he finished.
Killy shuffled, clearly torn between wanting to talk to Niall, and not wanting to speak in front of Sinead. “Please, this is important. Like World War three
An insistent tap came on the door. And then another. “Niall?” A man called from outside. “I really need to talk to you.”
The sensual assault stopped. With his temper barely held in check, Niall came to his feet and pulled her robe tightly around her. “Whoever is out there is a dead man.”
Niall stormed over to the door. He was going to kill the intruder. He finally had Sinead to himself, without an audience. God, he loved listening to the noises she made as he pushed her to the brink and held her there.
He had to force himself to remember that she was a client. Usually, he would keep his hands to himself, but searching for the missing ruby, the Fire of Autumn, at a FemDom party in Paris had given him the sort of opportunity most men only dreamed of. And he was not going to waste one minute of it dealing with crap.
He jerked the door open, scowl already in place. “What the fuck do you want?” He was going to tear the servant apart, limb from limb.
He paused at the sight of the man on the other side of the door. It was one of the guests, not a servant.
“Niall Moore, it is you isn't it?” Frederic Killy hesitated, now looking uncertain. He was sweating, despite the comfortable conditions of the Chateau, and turned to cast an anxious eye up the elegant corridor. He was not at all bothered by the fact that Niall was still stark naked. And semi-erect.
Something was wrong. This was not a man on a social call. Niall held the door open. “Come in.”
Killy slipped in, surprisingly stealthy for such a big man. He had the broad shoulders and strong thighs of a rugby player, but a few years working in a laboratory in CERN had softened him a little.
Once inside the room, Killy calmed. He wiped the sweat off his temples and took a breath. “You are Niall Moore, the investigator, aren't you?”
Niall nodded. He tucked a towel around his hips and gestured Killy to go on.
“You won't know me, but I'm the cousin of a woman you rescued in Afghanistan last year. She never stops talking about you, and showed me clipping about your activities. If anyone can help me, you can.”
Killy held an envelope in his hand, and was about to hand it to Niall when he saw Sinead standing beside the bed, her bathrobe tied tightly around her. It hid her luscious curves from the other man, but Niall still resented Killy's presence here with his lady.
Killy , dressed in a pair of casual cotton trousers and a shirt, was the most formally dressed of all of them.
Damn it, his morning had been ruined. It was clear Niall was not going to get lucky in the immediate future. He pulled on a pair of old jeans and a shirt, leaving it unbuttoned to keep the pressure off the bruises and cuts on his back.
“What's the problem?” he asked Killy. He had seen him last night at the party, and knew him by reputation as one of the most brilliant scientists in the world, but had never been formally introduced to him.
“I'd rather speak to you alone,” Killy said. He kept a wary eye on Sinead.
Niall didn't blame him. Most of the time, Sinead O'Sullivan did a good job of disguising herself as a dowdy museum curator. Dressed in a bathrobe, her red hair loose in curls down her back, her pale skin luminous in the morning sunlight, her lips swollen from his kiss, she was a true beauty. But nothing could disguise the razor sharp intelligence in her blue eyes.
And Killy has been there last night when she had revealed a talent with a whip that would scare most men.
“It's okay, I trust—” He stopped himself before he could say “Sinead”. The guests at this party believed she was her twin sister, so there was no point in alerting any of them to the deception. “My mistress,” he finished.
Killy shuffled, clearly torn between wanting to talk to Niall, and not wanting to speak in front of Sinead. “Please, this is important. Like World War three
Similar Books
