Capturing Callie
Page 1
Club Isola
Capturing Callie
Callie Reece has always been the responsible one…and where has it gotten her? A low-paying job as a reporter sent in a rowboat to spy on the ultra-exclusive BDSM club that caters to Washington’s inner circle.
Club owner Ian McGregor and his best friend, former Navy SEAL Jace Garrett, capture the tiny blonde beauty trying to sneak on the island. Ian is captivated by the woman he sees below the surface, and he recognizes Callie as a submissive from the moment he looks into her eyes. Ian gives her a choice—jail or a month as his submissive. Is she brave enough to pursue a lifestyle she’d already become interested in?
But Callie is the last witness to a crime committed by the only son of US Senator John Westmore. And now Grant Westmore is seeking a powerful State Department appointment, and Callie is the last loose end standing in his way. Can Ian McGregor’s billions keep Callie safe?
Genre: BDSM, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Romantic Suspense
Length: 64,345 words
CAPTURING CALLIE
Club Isola
Avery Gale
MENAGE AND MORE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage and More
CAPTURING CALLIE
Copyright © 2013 by Avery Gale
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62242-838-0
First E-book Publication: April 2013
Cover design by Harris Channing
All cover art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
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Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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DEDICATION
To my crazy aunts who always encouraged me to speak my mind. Their wild and wacky senses of adventure helped launch my imagination.
CAPTURING CALLIE
Club Isola
AVERY GALE
Copyright © 2013
Chapter 1
Ian McGregor looked out over the still waters of the bay toward the shimmering lights of the mainland. Standing in front of the wall of windows in his bedroom suite gave him an amazing view of what he had always considered one of the most beautiful expanses of water on Earth. His many business pursuits required him to travel the world, so he figured his opinion was at the very least informed. Living on an island off the coast of his beloved Virginia had proven to be a dream come true. He valued his privacy and, considering his chosen lifestyle, staying out of the media spotlight was almost a requirement.
Even though he kept luxury penthouse suites in several cities, the home he’d built here was where he spent the majority of his time and where he felt the most comfortable. The entire structure was an eco-technological wonder. Hell, the patents alone on the energy-efficient building materials he’d designed for it would make him a billion dollars in the next ten years. And that was without adding in the software for the audio-visual and security systems. He had collaborated with his friend and colleague, Mitch Grayson, on several of the security system’s features, and Ian was thrilled to be sharing the profits from those with Mitch. Sighing as he thought about how Mitch and his friend, Bryant Davis, had settled down with their wife and submissive, Rissa, he wondered if he’d ever be as happy as they seemed.
Glancing around the beautifully landscaped gardens between his home and the beach, he smiled, remembering all the time he’d spent listening to the Lamonts explain the “special” elements of the beautiful gardens behind The ShadowDance Club. He planned to implement some of their ideas behind Club Isola as soon as he figured out how to camouflage it from overhead. The members of ultraprivate Club Isola were, for the most part, very high-profile public figures, so media intrusion was always a concern. And while the patents for his island retreat were the moneymakers, it was the well-hidden building on the other side of the small expanse of land that had been his true motive for this labor of love.
Only a select few people had known about the deep caves on the tiny island, and that fact had enabled his purchase of the small treasure for well under its real value. The caves were deep and structurally sound with several natural outlets so ventilation and escape routes had been easy to implement. The island itself was just over two square miles in area and was long enough that he’d been able to add a small landing strip and helipad. The golf course had been designed by a member of the PGA who had traded his services for a lifetime membership to the club. As soon as he found the right manager, he wanted to build a small but very exclusive luxury resort he would simply call The Resort Isola.
While he’d been at ShadowDance Mountain last month, he’d vowed to lure away their newly hired motel manager, but Alex and Zach Lamont had threatened to castrate him if he did. He’d been in the room but out of her view during her interview and had been impressed with the Marilyn Monroe look-alike. Smiling to himself he remembered Alex growling at him, but it had been Zach’s threat that had made him laugh and ultimately give up his taunts. Zach had threatened to sic their wife, Katarina, on him, and Ian was wise enough to avoid the tiny blonde’s wrath. He’d also been smart enough to hire her on the spot to do his web-designing after he’d seen some of her work. He’d enjoyed teasing her about being too smart to be married to his Neanderthal friends. She hadn’t missed a beat and had joined right in agreeing with him, something Ian was sure her sweet ass had paid for later that evening.
Standing in the dark and thinking back over the past several years, Ian was surprised he didn’t feel a deeper sense of satisfaction from all he’d accomplished. Monetarily the past five years had been more than he could have ever dreamed possible, but all the professional success in the world wasn’t meeting the burning need in his soul. He hadn’t even been able to pinpoint exactly what it was that he was looking for, so finding a solution in the near future didn’t seem likely.
Just as he was ready to turn back into the room before heading down for a late dinner, something out on the water caught his eye. He’d just caught a distorted shadow in the glimmering lights that looked as if it had been about a quarter of a mile off-shore. Grabbing the night-vision scope he kept nearby, he stepped out on to the wide walkway that surrounded his private quarters and hit the small, hidden switch that suppressed the solar security and landscaping lights so he wouldn’t be seen. As he zeroed in on the spot, he saw a shimmer of blonde. His eyes had to be playing tricks on him. Nobody would brave the frigid bay waters that far out knowing there was no way to avoid detection once they’d made their way on to the island. Mentally correcting himself, Ian knew that wasn’t entirely true. There were two types of people who would try—corporate spies and reporters.
Ian had seen the company helicopter land about an hour ago, so he knew Jace would be in his office by now. He and Jace Garrett had been friends since college. After graduation, Ian had returned to take over his father’s struggling business after his dad had died suddenly from a heart attack, and Jace had joined the Navy. They had stayed in contact even as Jace had gone on to become a SEAL. When Jace had decided to retire after a mission had gone so far south his friend had sworn to him he’d seen penguins, Ian had hired him as the Chief of Security for McGregor Holdings. Ian hit the button on his phone that would connect him directly with Jace, and Ian wasn’t surprised when the other man answered on the second ring.
“Garrett. What’s up, boss?” Jace’s tone reflected his surprise. Ian rarely called him this late.
“Looks like we’ve got company. Meet me at the top of the stairs leading to the dock. Bring the night visions. I want to see who this is before we confront them.”
“Roger that. ETA two minutes.” Ian smiled to himself, nothing like the US Special Forces teams to drill clear and concise communication techniques into their members. But truth be told, Ian found himself using the same curt, cut-to-the-chase style in business as well, and he’d often wondered if it was Jace’s influence or simply his own lack of motivation to listen to what was usually a bunch of dribble.
As luck would have it, Ian was already dressed in black jeans and boots. It hadn’t taken him but a second to pull on a black hooded sweatshirt and grab a penlight. Moving quickly through his dark home and sliding stealthily out the French doors leading to the patio stairs down to the dock, he was surprised to see Jace already in place. Two minutes my ass. Donning the goggles, they moved silently down the stairs, staying to the side in the shadows of the trees. The cloud-covered moon would work to their advantage unless the intruders had night-vision optics as well, then it would be an even playing field.
Whoever the intruder was, he certainly wasn’t a professional. They’d caught a glimpse of the interloper just as he’d landed unceremoniously on his ass on the dock’s synthetic decking. The recycled material he’d used when building the small dock might be state of the art for durability, and it looked so much like naturally aged wood that most people couldn’t tell the difference, but the stuff was noisy as hell. That had been a real sticking point and had sent the product back through McGregor Holdings’ R & D department more than once. But at this moment, Ian was grateful he hadn’t replaced the prototype with the much quieter third-generation product.
Watching as the trespasser scrambled around in a tangle of arms and legs, he and Jace had looked at each other in disbelief. Hell, the ruckus the joker was making would have been enough to attract attention even without the motion-sensing alarms that were no doubt lighting up Jace’s office at this very moment. Ian watched as the guy fell not once, but three times trying to get his small boat tied securely and to unload his gear from the small dinghy.
Ian looked over at Jace just as the former soldier looked up at him grinning and just shook his head and chuckled. Just as Ian returned his gaze to the walkway, he noticed wisps of blonde wafting in the soft breeze. Those few escaped strands had obviously been what had attracted his attention earlier. He and Jace must have reached simultaneous conclusions, because just as he’d noticed the soft voice cursing a blue streak was definitely female, Jace gave him a quick but completely inappropriate hand sign for woman. Ian caught his snort of laughter just before it had broken free and managed to simply nod his agreement. The realization that they were dealing with a female prowler was definitely a mixed blessing. On one hand, restraining the tiny slip of a woman was going to be a piece of cake, but on the other hand, their usual methods of interrogation were going to need to be altered—significantly altered.
Chapter 2
Callie Reece would rather have eaten mustard-soaked sardines at every meal for six months than take this assignment. But her kid sister’s tuition was due in just over a month, and Callie’s editor had made it crystal clear that this assignment was nonnegotiable. Either she delivered the goods on the super exclusive sex club on the other end of this small island or she’d be out looking for work in the worst job market in over a decade.
Finding herself lost in those fears had been just enough distraction for the old “Calamity Callie” to rear her very unladylike head in a big way. Fracking fairy farts, she’d fallen down three times. Hell, she was going to be black and blue from head to toe at this rate. She was tired—no, she was exhausted. Lord love a leper, who knew rowing that small boat would be such hard work. She’d been aiming for an isolated beach not far from the other end of the island, putting her much closer to where she’d been told the entrance to Club Isola was located. But she’d run out of steam and the current had brought her to this small dock. She’d planned to hide the boat in the nearby trees and then make her way closer to the club before camping out until she could gather information tomorrow evening. She’d reasoned she’d be able to do all of this undetected and make her way back to the mainland without anyone being the wiser. But now that she hadn’t been able to conceal the boat, she needed a Plan B, and she needed it ten minutes ago.
Patting her bag to make sure she hadn’t lost her phone, she decided she’d just have to call her editor and have someone retrieve her weakling self when she’d gotten enough information to write the article that he’d so indelicately called her “Career Saver.” Just as she reached the end of the walkway, she heard the soft rustle of fabric being moved against foliage just before she felt a hand that had to be made of steel grasp her upper arm. She let out a startled gasp a heartbeat before all her years of self-defense training kicked in, and she became the wildcat all her instructors had preached that she needed to become.
* * * *
As the head of security, Jace had been the one to step forward and wrap his hand around the small woman’s arm. He’d known she was small, but he’d been shocked when his hand had completely encircled her bicep. And he’d been completely blindsided by her reaction. She
hadn’t screamed as he’d expected, she’d merely gasped a split second before she had gone completely warrior princess on him. Standing just over six and a half feet tall, he rarely had anyone, man or woman, challenge him, so he’d been shocked when the woman had actually landed a couple of decent blows before he’d corralled her.
Trying to salvage some of his dignity had quickly become a nonissue when he’d heard Ian’s soft chuckle as he stepped forward to help secure the imp’s wrists in a pair of flexi cuffs. Once they had the woman’s hands immobilized behind her, he realized she was nearly as lethal with her legs, so he had simply wrapped his hands around her muscular calves and dropped her onto her ass while he waited for Ian to link several of the plastic zip-ties he’d brought along and secure them around her slender ankles. Standing her up he’d been shocked to discover she couldn’t have been over five feet one inch tall and that counted the damned Catwoman boots she was sporting.
Swearing softly, he promised himself he was going to take that damned vacation Ian had been ragging on his ass about for the past six months. The day a ninety-pound pixie was able to push her elbow into his diaphragm was the day he needed to head back to the ranch and regroup.
* * * *
Ian had watched as Jace struggled with the tiny tigress. And he had struggled to not laugh out loud when he’d heard the large man’s oomph as she’d landed a solid elbow jab to Jace’s solar plexus. Hell, connecting a blow like that to a former SEAL was enough to earn her a point or two up the respect ladder. Grateful for the moon’s reappearance, Ian stepped close and secured zip-ties around each of her slender ankles and then linked them together so that she’d still be able to walk taking small steps, but wouldn’t be able to kick out at them or run. Surprised that she hadn’t said a single word, he stepped forward and pulled the black knit cap from her head and nearly swallowed his tongue. The cascade of wavy blonde silk that fell around her shoulders before heading toward the top of her ass was the stuff of his every fantasy and wet dream. He couldn’t wait to get the black smudge paint off her face because he was sure the little sprite was going to be a stunner.