Tied to the Tycoon by Chloe Cox Page B

her. He was troubled by what he’d learned already, that she didn’t paint anymore, that she considered that a part of her past. And that she was so uncomfortable being “out” as submissive, even in a place where the whole damn point was that you could be yourself. It suggested that maybe the problem wasn’t other people. Maybe Ava just wasn’t all that comfortable being herself.
    Jackson had to admit that wouldn’t surprise him. Ava was still the most guarded person he’d ever met, still had that armor that she could put on in a flash. He’d been wondering if she’d told anyone in her life where she was, for real, and then she’d gotten that mystery phone call. All he’d heard was, “yeah, still on that junket,” and he’d known she’d kept it secret. She probably hadn’t told anyone about him at all.
    Damn, it’s been just a few days, Jackson. Give the girl room to breathe. Well, that was as it was. And he had told her no strings.
    But that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be good for her to accept herself in public.
    Jackson smiled as Ava trudged back toward him through the snow, looking happy to see him. He had a plan now.
    He took Ava’s hand and cocked his head toward the pond.
    “Everyone will come out ice skating here tonight,” he said. “They’ll light it up with lanterns and stuff.”
    She nodded in appreciation, looking out at the beautiful, thick ice, almost completely surrounded by steep, sheeted walls of rough-hewn rock. It looked like something out of a fairytale.
    “It’s nice to be rich, huh?” she said.
    “I haven’t found many things I care to spend money on. Maybe just one,” he finished, giving her a sly look. It was corny, but he was kind of proud of that line.
    She looked airily back at him. “Single serving dairy creamers?”
    That deserved a pile of snow on top of the head. She squealed with laughter as she ran, and by the time he caught her and had gotten his proper, snowy revenge, he was already wondering how he could possibly wait until after dinner to have her again. To avoid the temptation, he lifted her over his shoulder and carried her back to the house. He had arrangements to make.
     

chapter 12
     
    Ava edged closer to the fire, wine glass in hand, and brooded. Jackson was planning something. Ever since she’d taken that stupid call from Alain while they were out walking, Jackson had had that look in his eye. That mischievous look that said he took as much pleasure in teasing her with offhand comments and allusions as he would in whatever it was that he had planned for her.
    That look, and the way it made her feel all warm and mushy about Jackson, was one reason for the wine. The other was the general goings on at Camp Kinkmas, as Ava had come to think of the Volare retreat. The wine was meant to relax her while Jackson went about his preparations, whatever they were, and she was left in one of the common great rooms with the other guests.
    The other guests at the BDSM Christmas retreat . Ava was pretty sure she’d never get over the fact that such a thing existed. The other guests, who had apparently planned some themed activities. The other guests, who included Lillian and her date, a cheerful looking salt-and-pepper gentleman who mostly seemed happy to have a date at all.
    Jackson had allowed her exactly one glass of wine while he was off making his “arrangements.” He didn’t want her impaired, he’d said. As Ava watched while people picked names out of a hat for Volare’s version of Secret Santa—whatever that entailed—she wondered if a glass of eggnog would technically be cheating. She didn’t often indulge, given her family history, but this seemed like an exception.
    The irony was, she wanted to be able to join in and have fun, even if she didn’t want to be anyone but Jackson’s Secret Santa gift. She just couldn’t. For some reason, this was one situation where she couldn’t become her usual social persona, laughing and playing along and