Winter's Fire

by Christie Adams

  Her fellow guests were a revelation for Lucy. When her gaze collided with the first stark naked male sub on a leash, she offered up a silent prayer of thanks to Logan for taking her to Aegis and breaking her in relatively gently.

  After a mouth-watering breakfast, they explored some more of the resort. Although they strolled around as casually as any of the other guests, their walking tour was more like a military reconnaissance of the surrounding area.

  Part of their route took them past their bungalow to the beach. When Lucy caught sight of the bay, with its brilliant white sand bordered by waving palm trees and the glittering turquoise waves, she couldn’t help herself.

  “Oh my God, it’s incredible! Just look at the view, it’s so beautiful!”

  “I am, and it is.”

  She’d run slightly ahead of Logan. Something about the tone of his voice made her turn back to him. He was looking straight at her, not the vista beyond, and in a way that left her struggling to breathe normally. The mission momentarily forgotten, Lucy returned to stand in front of him. Driven by an impulse she couldn’t name, she knelt as gracefully as she could manage on the soft sand, and assumed the presentation position he’d taught her. Cloaked in a welcome calmness, she waited.

  “Lisa?”

  He’d called her by her cover identity, but she heard her own name in the questioning tone. She looked up to see that tone reflected in his expression. “You never know when someone might be watching, Sir. I thought it might be a good precaution.”

  Logan offered her his hands, and helped her up. Without pausing, he swept her into an embrace that brought her hard up against his muscled frame. “Good thinking,” he murmured close to her ear. “We might make a field officer out of you yet. Now how about if we make our way back? You have enough time to make those spa appointments before we go to orientation.”

  Any thought Lucy might have nurtured about ducking out of the pampering sessions was frustrated by her Dom’s insistence on remaining with her at the spa reception desk, while enough appointments were made for her to outdo a beauty queen. All well and good, but seaweed wraps and top-to-toe massages weren’t going to help her achieve her career goal.

  “That should keep you out of trouble, babe,” Logan said, as she accepted the personalised schedule the receptionist had printed off for her.

  “Yes, Sir—it’ll be so much fun. Thank you.” Lucy’s teeth nearly cracked under the strain of trying to look happy about it.

  And as if that wasn’t enough, the blasted man insisted on escorting her to the venue for the submissives’ introduction to the resort, giving her no chance to strike out on her own.

  “I’ll see you in an hour. When you’re done, wait for me here, and we’ll get some lunch, maybe go back to the beach.” He kissed her nose. “If you’re a good girl, I’ll spank your arse later.”

  Fire flashed into her cheeks. He’d said that aloud and in public? Of course he had, and judging by the sighs coming from behind her, been overheard by a somewhat envious audience.

  “You’re so lucky.”

  Dreading what might greet her, Lucy pivoted slowly, to come face-to-face with a pair of beaming smiles. Only one of them was female, and the owner of the voice that had addressed her.

  “Hi. My name’s Lisa.” She offered her hand. “I remember you from the yacht, both of you.”

  Travelling in a threesome with their Dom, they were hard to forget.

  “I’m Sasha, and this is Jed.”

  “Hi.” Jed held out his hand. “It’s nice to put a name to a friendly face. Is this your first visit to Nenufar?”

  British by their accents, they made a striking couple—or whatever the technical term was for two-thirds of a ménage. Bare-chested and barefoot, Jed was tall and blond, with a slim, lithe body. The skin-tight, low-riding, wet-look black trousers left nothing to the imagination—the outline of his cock and balls told anyone with just a glance that he was extremely well-endowed. The identification tag dangling from his metal ring collar bore a single word—PET.

  A similar tag hung from Sasha’s collar. The narrow leather band in a pale shade of green was a perfect complement to her brunette colouring. She was shorter than Lucy, and her generous curves were clad in a sprayed-on minidress and, by the look of it, nothing else.

  The final third of the ménage, their Dom, was an older man if Lucy recalled correctly. He’d reminded her a little of Sir Guy. From their behaviour on board the yacht, their relationship had appeared genuine, even if the logistics of it mystified her.

  “It is.”

  “It’s our fourth.” Sasha linked arms with her fellow sub. “I think we’d better go in, they’ll be starting soon. Master always makes us attend orientation, just in case something’s changed, but it never does. Why don’t you sit with us? If you have any questions, we can always give you the real skinny on what it’s like here afterwards.”

  “Thanks, I’d like that.”

  Clasping her personalised welcome pack, Lucy followed the two submissives to one of the tables near the front of the function room, where a lectern took pride of place. As they wove between the tables and chairs, she scanned the room to see how many other guests she recognised. “Sasha, were all these people on the yacht as well? I don’t remember a lot of the faces.”

  “Oh, they run more than one yacht. We were on one of the late ones, but there are others during the day. We should have been on an earlier one, but Master had an emergency at work. We had to take a later flight, so…” Sasha shrugged. “Here we are.”

  The sound of someone tapping a microphone interrupted the buzz of general conversation, and like everyone else in the audience, Lucy turned her attention to the tall, statuesque redhead waiting to address them.

  “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Mistress Petra, and I’m the guest relations executive for our submissive visitors. It’s my enormous pleasure and privilege to welcome you to Nenufar on behalf of Dr. Jaeger von Brandt, our director. You’ll all get to meet Dr. J at this evening’s cocktail party.”

  Relaxed and self-assured, she addressed the gathering with an almost tangible confidence. Much of what she was saying, Lucy recalled from scouring the website, so she switched her attention to the welcome pack. It was stuffed with a glossy brochure, various flyers, including one showing a selection of the mind-blowing range of equipment available at the adult toy shop. The final item was a credit-card sized piece of thin plastic printed with what appeared to be a computer login and password.

  She skimmed her way through the literature, which included more than its fair share of pictures of naked, fun-loving extroverts. The spa treatments sounded wonderful—Lucy reminded herself she was there to work, and the pampering was part of her cover.

  Now there was a thought. In the privacy of the treatment rooms, if she took a picture of Diana Carstairs with her, she could ask the therapists if they remembered her. At least Logan wouldn’t be there to reprimand her for her initiative.

  Lucy switched back to the present as Mistress Petra introduced some of the senior members of staff, all ridiculously attractive. The women were slim and toned, while the men were tall and muscular. The lot of them were guaranteed to give any mere mortal a complex.

  “And finally, before I let you all go find your Dominants, I’d like to draw your attention to the final item in your packs. You each have a personal login for the guest area of our website. You can use that to select treatments and make appointments at the spa, make restaurant reservations, and of course, browse the private gallery. You can even upload your own images, should you wish to share them with your fellow guests. The only limit is your own imagination—that area of the website is one hundred percent secure, and inaccessible to outside visitors.

  “Does anyone have any questions?”

  After a couple of queries, most of the guests dispersed on a wave of happy chatter. Sasha and Jed remained seated.

  “So, what do you think, Lisa? Will you and your Master enjoy your vaca
tion?”

  Hearing someone else refer to Logan as her Master gave Lucy a strange, but by no means unpleasant feeling in the pit of her stomach. “I think so. He needs to relax, and I hope he can do that here.”

  “If you need any ideas, make sure you check out the private area of the website,” Jed advised. “I’ve learned a lot from there—especially that no matter how pervy you think you are, there’s always a bigger pervert out there!”

  Sasha elbowed him in the ribs. “We’d better get a move on. Master told us to meet him by the fountain by ten past, and it’s nearly that now. Remember what he did the last time you were late?”

  Judging by the almost comical grimace that flashed across Jed’s face, Lucy was fairly certain she didn’t want to hear the details. “I’ll see you guys around later. Have fun!”

  It didn’t take Lucy long to find Logan. He too had a pack of information, considerably thicker than hers—and, she was willing to bet, a hell of a lot more interesting.

  “Hi, babe.” He gathered her in his arms and greeted her with a hard kiss. “How did it go? Did you miss me?”

  “Of course I did, Sir.” Slipping into character in public was coming a lot more easily now. “How did your induction go?”

  “Good. Gave me some great ideas I’d like us to try out later.”

  The sexy undercurrent to the words was echoed in his suddenly gravelly tone. It was all for the benefit of anyone passing close enough to hear their exchange, of course. No way did he mean it.

  “You okay?”

  He must have picked up on her delicate shudder. “I’m fine, thank you. Really.”

  He didn’t look convinced. “If you’re not being honest with me…”

  He’d introduce her to that paddle. He didn’t need to spell it out to make the threat clear. And in spite of her earlier reaction, was it wrong to be intrigued by the thought so much?

  ~~*~~

  “Ladies and gentlemen, if I might have your attention, please.”

  “Who is that?”

  As they turned in the direction of the voice, Lucy sampled her Sex On The Beach. Logan’s expression had been a picture when she’d ordered it. “Mistress Petra. She’s the guest relations executive for subs. She conducted the orientation session this morning.”

  “Oppo for Master Hugo, then,” Logan murmured, lifting his chin in the direction of the urbane middle-aged man who stood to her left. He tried his vodka martini and pulled a face. “Christ, what I wouldn’t give for a Guinness.”

  Lucy masked her grin with another sip. “I’m surprised they don’t have it here.”

  “They do.” Logan was grim. “The prick I’m playing wouldn’t drink it, though.”

  He was right—Lucan Simpson probably wouldn’t fit the profile for a fan of Irish stout. After a day spent exploring most of the resort, to get a feel for the place before starting their investigation in earnest, they’d joined their fellow new arrivals in one of the hotel’s larger function rooms for the welcome cocktail party, and in the interests of blending in with the other attendees, they joined in with the applause that greeted the grand entrance of the man of the moment.

  Dr. Jaeger von Brandt was a little older than the biography photo on the website, his hair a little greyer, but what the image hadn’t conveyed was the presence he projected through the room. A qualified psychologist with a keen interest in alternative lifestyles, he’d founded the resort more than a decade earlier as a retreat for those who struggled to find acceptance within societal so-called norms. The image accompanying the biography had suggested intelligence and culture, but something about the face, with its aloof, distant expression and one raised, slightly disdainful eyebrow, had left Lucy more than a little uneasy.

  “Thank you, Mistress Petra, for that wonderful introduction. Honoured guests, may I welcome you all to our idyllic slice of paradise.”

  As he continued to extol the virtues of this patch of heaven on earth, Lucy took the opportunity to examine her surroundings. On the other side of the room, Sasha and Jed stood close to their Master, and looked as engrossed by the speech as she was. Jed caught her eye and gave her a quick wink.

  “Before I let you go, there is one matter we must address. When people are thrown together without the distractions of normal daily life, they sometimes find out things about themselves and their partners that lead to difficult situations. As well as being the director of the resort, I’m also here as Dr. J, should you find yourself in need of a counselling session in a neutral, non-judgmental environment. Please don’t hesitate to contact my office, and we will do our best to find a mutually agreeable resolution for your issues.

  “I think that covers everything. Please feel free to mix and mingle and make new friends, and if you have any questions, I and my team will be only too happy to answer them for you. Enjoy your stay.”

  More polite applause, then guests began to circulate through the room. As a precaution, Lucy turned her back to the pair of subs she’d befriended earlier. They probably couldn’t lip-read, but it didn’t do to assume. “Master Lucan, if you look over my shoulder, you see the tall, blond, male sub and the shorter brunette? I met them at the briefing this morning. They’ve been here before. I know you said I wasn’t to, er, investigate, but I thought it might be useful to get their perspective on this place, see if they think there’s anything odd going on, or if anything’s changed.”

  Firm fingers under her chin tilted her head so that Logan could fix her with that serious, deadly stare of his. His head lowered, and his lips brushed over hers, camouflaging his whisper. “Need I remind you we didn’t have time to cover subtle interrogation techniques? They may not look like arch-criminals, but you can never tell by appearances.”

  Before she could respond, they were interrupted by a deep, English-accented male voice.

  “Excuse me.” The voice belonged to Sasha and Jed’s Master. They stood close behind him, heads bowed in submissive respect. “My pets tell me they had the pleasure of meeting your delightful submissive at the introduction session this morning. I’m Dante.”

  “Lucan.” Logan shook the offered hand. “My girl was just telling me about it. You’ve been here before?”

  “Several times. If there’s anything you’d like to know, you have only to ask.”

  “I’d appreciate the chance to talk. Lisa and I have plans for this evening, but I’m hoping to introduce her to some more… exotic activities while we’re here.”

  Lucy’s eyebrows nearly launched from the top of her head. She hoped Logan was just making conversation, because some of the scenes she’d found on the website took “exotic” to whole new levels.

  “Please tell me you didn’t mean that!”

  Lucy’s hoarse whisper came a few minutes later, as she and Logan left the cocktail party to head for the restaurant and their dinner reservation.

  “What?”

  “Exotic activities. Did you look at the website?”

  “Of course I did. Don’t worry—I’m not about to order you to get your clit pierced, although I’d hardly class that as ‘exotic’.”

  She snorted. “Exotic? I’d class it as bloody painful! No one’s putting a needle anywhere near my lady bits!”

  Logan gave a burst of laughter. “Lady bits? That’s what you’re calling your pussy now?”

  “I don’t actually call it anything, I was merely using that as a frame of reference.”

  “In that case, babe, we’d better do some work on enlarging your vocabulary.” Logan took hold of her hand. “Come with me.”

  “What? Where are we going?”

  They made their way through the hotel gardens, to one of the recesses off the main walkway.

  “Sit.”

  Lucy glanced around at the stone bench, and sat. Logan followed suit, and draped an arm around her shoulders. A gentle breeze wafted the scent of the island’s night-blooming flowers around them, and a million stars twinkled in the clear night sky. It would be so easy to lose sight of the reaso
n for their presence on the island.

  “Now repeat after me. Pussy.”

  Lucy all but rolled her eyes. “Is this really necessary?”

  “Repeat it, please. Pussy.”

  “Pussy.” Lucy squirmed slightly, but on the whole, that wasn’t so bad.

  “Good. Vajayjay.”

  Lucy stifled a giggle. “You did not just say that!”

  “I did, and I expect you to follow suit.”

  Feeling extremely silly, Lucy did as she was told. “Vajayjay.”

  “Cunt.”

  Lucy blushed to the roots of her hair. She’d never felt comfortable with how ugly that word sounded, and thanks to her ex, she’d learned to hate it. She shook her head.

  “Lisa.”

  She shook her head again. “I can’t.”

  Subtle though it was, she sensed the change in the vibe Logan was giving off. When his hand on her cheek coaxed her into facing him, she was surprised by the concerned frown.

  “Who used it as a weapon against you?”

  “No one who matters.”

  “Maybe not now, but at one time he mattered enough for that word to still hurt you.”

  She took a moment to get her words in order. “My ex. He usually preceded it with an adjective of some kind, none of them particularly flattering, as I recall.”

  Logan wrapped his arms around her. “Bastard.”

  “You could say that.” Lucy’s voice was dull with memory.

  “Lisa, I—” A loud growl from Lucy’s stomach stopped him in mid-sentence. “I think I’d better get you fed. We’ll have dinner, then go back to the bungalow to decide on our plan of action for tomorrow.”

  Chapter 15

  For Logan, the next days were characterised by frustration. Every enquiry they made produced the same result—a big, fat nothing. Even though British guests at the resort were few and far between, every member of staff whom he’d approached had claimed they couldn’t remember ever having seen Diana and her boyfriend. The level of consistency in the negative responses was troubling.