Passion Flower: 1

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by Sindra van Yssel




  Passion Flower

  Sindra van Yssel

  Submission Island—where submissive women can go to satisfy their deepest kinks. But Natalie’s there under false pretenses. She’s a botanist looking for a rare orchid that blooms only at night, and only on Submission Island. She just hopes she can escape the sexy Doms who run the island long enough to find out the orchid’s secrets, and that means pretending to be more submissive than she thinks she is.

  Carter doesn’t know much about orchids, but he knows a girl with a secret when he sees one, and he’s determined to discover Natalie’s. To do that, he has to awaken her sexual desires and satisfy her submissive longings—nothing wrong with mixing business with pleasure. He works to earn her trust even as he excites her senses and pushes her to do things she never thought she’d do—not even for science, or love.

  A Romantica® BDSM erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave.

  Passion Flower

  Sindra van Yssel

  Chapter One

  Natalie Cavello, PhD, slipped her glasses on and took a better look out the seaplane. The view was drop-dead beautiful. The island below was a lush green paradise, the only indication of any kind of civilization a large mansion with a dark solar-paneled roof at one end. Next to the mansion was a swimming pool, a blue dot that echoed the color of the broad Pacific, which stretched as far as she could see. She could no longer make out even a trace of mainland coastline in the distance. She was going to be truly isolated once the plane landed, presumably on the water somewhere since there was no landing strip.

  Somewhere on that island, she believed, arthrochilus nocturnem grew in the wild, one of only two species of orchids to bloom at night. Shown once at an exhibition in New York twenty years ago, its secretive cultivator had refused to allow anyone to see it since. No one knew where he got it, or if indeed he still had some. For all practical purposes, the species was believed extinct and indeed, Natalie had little interest in a plant grown only in someone’s greenhouse. She was a biologist, not an orchid fancier. But the bigger question—what caused a plant to flower at night when its close relatives all flowered during the daytime?—was of interest.

  When her colleague at the University of Chicago, Alvin Keller, had spotted the distinctive pink bloom in a nighttime picture taken on a tropical island off the northeastern coast of Australia, he had tried to get access, but the owners of Fleury Island refused. That had been that for Alvin, but not for Natalie. She had done some poking around, trying to figure out exactly what the four men who owned Fleury Island might be trying to protect, hoping to get some kind of angle on them.

  She’d gotten an angle, all right. The four men, all veterans from wars in Iraq and Afghanistan—two Americans and two Australians—were all heavily into the BDSM scene. They’d turned the island into a very expensive, very exclusive resort for women who wanted to act out their sexual fantasies. Natalie suspected she was the first woman ever to go using grant money.

  She glanced over at the other women on the small prop-driven plane. One was a blonde, probably from a bottle, but with a perfect tanned complexion and waif thin. She was wearing a pink business suit and had said little during the trip. The other was a redhead with long, lush curls of hair, a cute smile and generous curves shown off to good effect by a red halter top and tight black denim shorts. Beautiful women, both of them. She felt very plain by comparison.

  “So where are we going to land?” asked Rhonda, the redhead, in her broad Australian accent. There was a trace of concern in her voice.

  “On the water, presumably,” said you-can-call-me-Amber, the blonde from England. Her tones were clipped, dismissive. Clearly she thought it was a stupid question.

  “Oh,” said Rhonda, looking decidedly uncomfortable.

  Was it just two days ago Natalie thought Australian and British accents sounded almost the same? After an hour in a plane with Amber and Rhonda, they seemed like night and day.

  The plane did a broad circle around the island, slowly losing altitude. It didn’t need to do that in order to land. There weren’t other planes about or any reason for it to do anything but fly straight toward where it wanted to be and touch down, so the whole flyover was for their benefit.

  At last the plane splashed down, skidding along the water until it slowed to a gentle pace. Natalie watched out the window, feeling guilty for not being more solicitous of Rhonda. But everything about the island was important, from the density of the foliage to the types of other plants and animals there, and she might get a view from this angle only once.

  Something made arthrochilus nocturnem bloom at night. She was determined to find out why, and the answer lay in the ecology of Fleury Island. Or “Submission Island” as it was called in the brochures she’d read and on the forms she’d filled out. To find out the island’s secrets was why she was there. It might have seemed a trivial quest to the owners of the island when Alvin had suggested he be allowed to study the place, but every bit of knowledge humans gained about the planet fit into a larger puzzle. And besides, finding out things that no one else knew was addictive.

  Her fantasies of submission were entirely secondary. She wasn’t a submissive, after all. No one she knew would say that she was an acquiescent woman. She hoped her preference for Dominant men in books had given her enough knowledge of BDSM that she could pull off the act that would let her study the orchid.

  The plane sidled up to a small wooden pier that jutted out into the water. Birds scattered. They passed a sleek motorboat docked on the other side before finally coming to a stop. Natalie glanced over at Rhonda, who was looking a bit better. Rhonda flashed her a brave smile. Natalie smiled back, nodding to acknowledge that she’d faced her fears, whatever they were, and gotten through them. What Natalie was scared of was still to come.

  She’d signed away all sorts of rights when she’d filled out the forms for Submission Island. Surely most of those words were just meant to be hot. They’d had their effect on her too. It had been the first time filling out forms had ever made her grab her vibrator. But they weren’t to be taken seriously if she really objected. She was a paying customer after all. And no matter what, she’d be back in the normal world after a couple of weeks. If she played along, she didn’t think she’d be pushed too far.

  I can do this.

  The pilot hopped onto the dock. He was a tall man, handsome, with close-cropped black hair and deep-brown eyes. He walked down the dock and opened the door to the passenger cabin.

  “Wow, what a hunk,” said Rhonda.

  “They’re all good-looking,” Amber said. “That’s part of what we’re paying for.” She grabbed her mauve suitcase and strode to the door, losing her balance momentarily as the plane rocked on the water. She righted herself and didn’t look back, pausing only when she got to the open door.

  “Just jump,” said the pilot. “I’ll catch you. You won’t need your luggage.”

  “Yes, I will.”

  “I’ll get it later if you do.”

  “Hmm.” Amber studied the man for a moment, set down her luggage and then jumped. Sure enough, he caught her easily, although from the way she jumped Natalie could have sworn Amber was trying to knock the pilot over rather than be caught.

  “She’s not very submissive, is she?” Rhonda asked Natalie in a hushed voice.

  “No, she isn’t.” But then, neither am I. You might be the one sweet one in the bunch. “You can go next.”

  Rhonda grinned. “Not sure about the jump but the landing looks adorable.”

  It did, at that. She wondered if Amber was right that the men of Submission Island would all be as well-built. But then this guy was probably a hired pilot and no indication of what was to come.

  “Now you’ll get my lu
ggage?” Amber asked. “I kept it to a minimum, but there are essentials in there.”

  The pilot put her down and shrugged. “You read the rules.”

  The rules, as Natalie remembered, said that everything would be provided, and that clients were to bring nothing at all with them except the clothes on their backs and their passports. Medication was the only exception, and she had her migraine meds in her pocket. Her purse was in a storage locker at the airport.

  “I want my luggage.”

  “Sometimes we don’t want what we think we want,” said the pilot. He turned toward Rhonda, who was waiting at the door and looking doubtfully down at the gap and the water below. “Next!”

  Rhonda jumped. Rhonda was a good bit heavier, but it didn’t seem to faze the pilot any. He caught her and set her on her feet.

  Rhonda moved quickly out of the way.

  “Natalie, be a dear and toss the man my luggage, please,” said Amber.

  The pilot grinned. “Be a darn shame if I dropped it, now wouldn’t it be?”

  Natalie nodded. “Oh yes, horrible.” She resisted the temptation to drop it in the water herself. She had no idea what Amber considered so important about it, but she understood the desire to bring things along. The requirement to bring nothing but a few personal items had almost made her balk. If she hadn’t personally interviewed three women who said that they’d had the time of their lives on Submission Island, she never would have taken the risk of coming. But she supposed, in its own way, it was no worse than the trips some biologists took into the Amazon or other wild places. Here, the human threat was quite civilized, and such a small island wouldn’t be able to support any non-human predators.

  She let the luggage be, got ready to jump and promptly tripped and fell headlong toward the dock. The pilot’s strong arms caught her under her arms and pulled her forward, and her feet never touched the water, although her right shin banged painfully against the edge of the dock. He lifted her up and set her upright. There was something warm and safe about being in his arms for the moment he held her.

  “I’m not usually that clumsy!” she explained quickly. She didn’t know why she cared what he thought—no, she did. He was good-looking, and she fancied the idea she could make an impression. Not that he’d be looking at her with Amber and Rhonda around anyway.

  “No worries.” He winked. “You okay?”

  She took a step to make sure. Her shin hurt but it was nothing serious, not even a sprain. She’d probably have an ugly bruise in the morning. It was almost a shame. She wouldn’t mind being carried. “I’m fine.”

  “Good. You three head up to the veranda and Tom will meet you there.”

  Natalie looked up the dock, which extended like a boardwalk over the narrow beach and then ended on a broad porch in front of the island’s only building. The house was two stories tall, with dark wood shingles and lots of windows. At one end it jutted out over the water, held up by thick wooden beams.

  Rhonda was already heading there.

  “What about my luggage?” Amber asked the pilot. “I can make it very worth your while.” She winked.

  Natalie decided she’d rather follow than listen to Amber wheedle. Especially if he took Amber up on her implied offer. Why do I care what Amber does with the pilot? I’m here for an orchid. But she quickly brushed past the blonde and hurried down the walk. Behind her, she heard the heavy door of the seaplane being closed.

  The porch had glass tables and chairs made of steel and canvas and a beautiful view of the beach and the ocean. The beach, while narrow, was pristine—no litter to be found on it anywhere. Natalie sat down on one of the chairs. She was aching to go exploring but she had a role to play first, and she wanted to know more about the rest of the island before heading into it. Just because there weren’t likely to be predators didn’t mean it was completely safe. She pulled out a chair for Rhonda.

  “You think we’re allowed to use the furniture?” asked Rhonda.

  “I think if we weren’t we would have been told not to,” Natalie said. She could hear sounds in the direction of the plane, and she was pointedly not looking that way. Although watching Amber humiliate herself might be worth the sight of her making out with the pilot.

  “I guess that’s a good point,” said Rhonda. “I’m so nervous. I want to get off on the right foot, you know? And I’d really rather not be punished.”

  Natalie smiled. “I would have thought that would be part of the attraction.”

  Rhonda shook her head. “Not for me, thanks. I’m a good girl.” But she sat down.

  Natalie nodded. The sounds got closer and she couldn’t resist anymore. Amber was being frog-marched to the veranda. Apparently the pilot was more than transportation.

  “Would you be so kind, Natalie, as to get a chair for Amber here?”

  Natalie started to move, but stopped when Rhonda hurried to do it for her.

  “I asked Natalie,” said the pilot calmly.

  “Oh!” Rhonda bit her lip.

  “It’s all right,” intervened Natalie, very much wanting to keep Rhonda out of trouble.

  “Sit down, Rhonda,” said the pilot.

  Rhonda sat. Natalie got the chair and brought it to Amber. The blonde glared at her. But Amber sat when the pilot put her in the chair, recovered her composure and soon had her legs crossed and her back straight. Her suit was rumpled, but other than that she was none the worse for wear.

  “Thank you, Natalie,” said the pilot.

  “You’re welcome.” Was she supposed to say Sir at the end of that? She hadn’t been thinking of him in those terms, but she was starting to reassess.

  But he just nodded. “Stay here and relax.” He opened the big glass sliding door and let himself into the house, locking the door behind him. The curtains behind the door parted only for a moment, giving a useless glimpse of the interior.

  She couldn’t imagine that whomever they were waiting for was unaware of their arrival. They could have been on the dock waiting for them if they’d wanted to be, or on the porch or wherever. Making them wait was all psychological. All part of the dance that for some reason people were willing to pay for. Although she supposed what one was really paying for was a two-week vacation on a tropical island, and that was well worth it. She was beginning to suspect that was all Amber was here for, given the whole bit with the luggage. Surely the woman didn’t want to submit to anyone.

  “Well,” said Amber. “That went well. Seems these guys are the real deal. Or at least the pilot is.”

  “Excuse me?” asked Natalie.

  “My suitcase was full of crap. I just wanted to see what happened when they were challenged.” Amber smirked. “Real Dominant men here. I hope you two can handle it.”

  “Bloody pom,” Natalie heard Rhonda mutter under her breath.

  “I heard that,” said Amber. “My guess is that we’ll be spending most of our time naked, which is why we don’t need any clothes.”

  Oh, lovely. Just what I always wanted, to wander around naked for nearly two weeks with a couple of gorgeous women for comparison. Natalie suspected Amber was right though. She’d reached a similar conclusion when reading the no-luggage rule. It didn’t matter. If the men didn’t find her attractive, that might give her more time to explore the island.

  The door opened and a large man stepped out. Score two for Amber’s theory that all the men were good-looking. This one was blonde, tanned and buff. He wore a loose white shirt and tight blue jeans. “Hello, ladies,” he said. “I’m Master Thomas. Welcome to Submission Island.”

  Another man stepped out from behind him and then closed the door. Maybe they weren’t all handsome after all. A scar ran across this man’s nose and another graced his cheek. The scowl on his face didn’t help either, although from the neck down he was as perfect as the others. “This is Master Kyle. You’ve met Master Carter. We’ll be your hosts here. In a few moments Kyle will show you your rooms, and dinner will be at six o’clock, which will give you time to ch
ange into the clothes on your bed.”

  “I thought there were four of you,” said Amber.

  “Unfortunately Master Roger has other commitments this week. You would be Amber, I take it? Carter has already informed me of your scene with the luggage. Master Kyle will be disciplining you. We offer a total immersion experience here, from the moment you stepped off that plane to the moment you get back on. Of course you may leave at any time—and even if you need a temporary stop, all you have to do is say our safe word, tapioca. But while you are here, you’ll obey the rules, and you’ll address the Doms as Sir or as Master. Infractions will be punished. Master Kyle is a sadist and he enjoys his work, so he’s going to take you in hand.”

  The scowl on Master Kyle’s face changed into a smile for a moment but it didn’t make him more attractive. It was more like a predator showing his teeth. Natalie gulped. Amber could have Kyle to herself all weekend long, as far as Natalie was concerned.

  Would each of them get a man to herself, was that how it worked? If so, Natalie hoped for Carter, the pilot. Or maybe whoever misbehaved would be turned over to Kyle.

  “We usually give our members the option of requesting a different Dom, but until Master Roger gets here that will be a little complicated, as someone else would have to switch. However, you’ll get to know all of us, and are expected to obey and treat us with respect. In the meantime, Rhonda, Master Carter will be taking care of you and, Natalie, I’ll be seeing to your needs personally.”

  Damn. Although it was better than Kyle. She took a deep breath. She really knew nothing about the men. She was letting Carter’s neat catch of her on the pier go to her head. In any other situation she’d have been happy enough to have a man who looked like Tom ask her out, but this wasn’t precisely a date. She wasn’t sure what it was.

  “What about the servants? Sir,” asked Amber.

  “There’s no one on the island but us. Just Doms and submissives.”

  “So who cleans?”

  “We do. You ladies are on vacation,” Thomas answered patiently. He glanced at Kyle, and Kyle grinned inexplicably.

 

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