it.
‘Don’t worry. The leather will stretch and soften with the heat of your body. You can use the shower in my room while I make you up a bed.’
The warm water of the shower played against her skin. Sinead welcomed the needle-like sensation of the jets. Despite the age of the building, Gabriel never skimped on plumbing. It was a while since she had stayed here, and longer still since they had been lovers. Now, they had settled into an affectionate, intimate friendship.
Trust Gabriel to sense that she had moved on. Damned Frenchman, she could hide nothing from him.
When she emerged from the bathroom, Gabriel was dressing. His chest was bare and there was a faint sheen of oil on his skin. His dark latex pants left nothing to the imagination, but she had often seen him wear less on stage.
She wiggled her way into her costume. ‘Zip me up, will you?’ she asked, as she turned her back for his attention and breathed in.
‘Relax,
chérie
, I was teasing you earlier. You’re still hot, but performing a routine on stage is no preparation for the real thing. We need to have a little talk about the club tonight.’
‘Why?’
‘Have you ever been spanked?’
She glared at him, affronted.
Now, if Niall Moore had suggested it, she might have considered it. He was big enough and strong enough to put her over his knee if he wanted to. The man who had brought her to an earth-shattering orgasm had been controlled and experienced. She wondered what it would take to break that control and make him …
Sinead realized that Gabriel was waiting, an expectant look on his face. ‘In your dreams.’
Gabriel laughed. ‘You’re not a natural submissive then. Okay, we can work with that.’
‘What do you mean, work with that? Do you think I’m going to let some guy boss me around?’
‘Why don’t you tell me?’
‘Bloody men,’ she muttered. ‘Now, where are my shoes?’
‘Temper, temper,’ he said. ‘This is not a performance on a stage where you can switch off your smile when the lights go down. You can’t walk into a club like Cirque and start asking questions. You’ll be out on the street on your pretty ass before you know it.’
He was right. ‘What do you suggest?’
‘It looks like your sister was able to pass for you in your world. There is no reason why you can’t do the same in hers.’
He opened the closet and reached for a black leather holdall. ‘You remember the routine we did in Barcelona with the whip and flail?’
Sinead nodded.
‘Perhaps we can replicate that, but first we need to find out whether your sister is a Domme or a sub.’
Wincing, Sinead eyed the collection of whips and flails in the bag. She didn’t know what half of the other stuff was for, but she could guess. ‘What if she’s a sub?’
Gabriel gave her a grin that was wickedness incarnate. ‘Then I get to spank you.’
Niall scowled at the computer screen in the small Paris office of Moore Enterprises. Where the hell had Sinead O’Sullivan gone? It was as if she had dropped off the face of the earth. How had she managed to give him the slip so neatly?
There were seasoned operators in the SEALs and SAS who couldn’t do what she had done. All of his suspicions about her flared up again. No matter how beautiful her eyes were, or how innocent she seemed, Sinead was clearly an experienced strategist who knew how to circumvent the law.
He had tracked her as far as Gare de Lyon, but only because she had switched on her phone for a couple of minutes while she was there. She hadn’t made any calls – that would have been too easy. He’d have been able to track down the other number in minutes. But at least he knew her location four hours ago. Since then, nothing.
At this moment she was in Paris and could take a train to anywhere in Europe. He was watching for her credit card to pop up as soon as she used it, but there was no sign. She probably had a spare one. Or cash stashed somewhere. Or hell, maybe she
‘Don’t worry. The leather will stretch and soften with the heat of your body. You can use the shower in my room while I make you up a bed.’
The warm water of the shower played against her skin. Sinead welcomed the needle-like sensation of the jets. Despite the age of the building, Gabriel never skimped on plumbing. It was a while since she had stayed here, and longer still since they had been lovers. Now, they had settled into an affectionate, intimate friendship.
Trust Gabriel to sense that she had moved on. Damned Frenchman, she could hide nothing from him.
When she emerged from the bathroom, Gabriel was dressing. His chest was bare and there was a faint sheen of oil on his skin. His dark latex pants left nothing to the imagination, but she had often seen him wear less on stage.
She wiggled her way into her costume. ‘Zip me up, will you?’ she asked, as she turned her back for his attention and breathed in.
‘Relax,
chérie
, I was teasing you earlier. You’re still hot, but performing a routine on stage is no preparation for the real thing. We need to have a little talk about the club tonight.’
‘Why?’
‘Have you ever been spanked?’
She glared at him, affronted.
Now, if Niall Moore had suggested it, she might have considered it. He was big enough and strong enough to put her over his knee if he wanted to. The man who had brought her to an earth-shattering orgasm had been controlled and experienced. She wondered what it would take to break that control and make him …
Sinead realized that Gabriel was waiting, an expectant look on his face. ‘In your dreams.’
Gabriel laughed. ‘You’re not a natural submissive then. Okay, we can work with that.’
‘What do you mean, work with that? Do you think I’m going to let some guy boss me around?’
‘Why don’t you tell me?’
‘Bloody men,’ she muttered. ‘Now, where are my shoes?’
‘Temper, temper,’ he said. ‘This is not a performance on a stage where you can switch off your smile when the lights go down. You can’t walk into a club like Cirque and start asking questions. You’ll be out on the street on your pretty ass before you know it.’
He was right. ‘What do you suggest?’
‘It looks like your sister was able to pass for you in your world. There is no reason why you can’t do the same in hers.’
He opened the closet and reached for a black leather holdall. ‘You remember the routine we did in Barcelona with the whip and flail?’
Sinead nodded.
‘Perhaps we can replicate that, but first we need to find out whether your sister is a Domme or a sub.’
Wincing, Sinead eyed the collection of whips and flails in the bag. She didn’t know what half of the other stuff was for, but she could guess. ‘What if she’s a sub?’
Gabriel gave her a grin that was wickedness incarnate. ‘Then I get to spank you.’
Niall scowled at the computer screen in the small Paris office of Moore Enterprises. Where the hell had Sinead O’Sullivan gone? It was as if she had dropped off the face of the earth. How had she managed to give him the slip so neatly?
There were seasoned operators in the SEALs and SAS who couldn’t do what she had done. All of his suspicions about her flared up again. No matter how beautiful her eyes were, or how innocent she seemed, Sinead was clearly an experienced strategist who knew how to circumvent the law.
He had tracked her as far as Gare de Lyon, but only because she had switched on her phone for a couple of minutes while she was there. She hadn’t made any calls – that would have been too easy. He’d have been able to track down the other number in minutes. But at least he knew her location four hours ago. Since then, nothing.
At this moment she was in Paris and could take a train to anywhere in Europe. He was watching for her credit card to pop up as soon as she used it, but there was no sign. She probably had a spare one. Or cash stashed somewhere. Or hell, maybe she
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