Command

by Sierra Cartwright

  “And your duffel bag?”

  “Definitely that.”

  After zipping up her jacket, she grabbed her briefcase and a couple of grocery bags before following him across flagstones toward the intricately carved double doors. Two lighting sconces flanked the entrance, each bearing a weathered-metal Kokopelli.

  Without him touching anything, she heard a lock turn. “I’m confused,” she said.

  “I like my security to be unobtrusive. Retina scan.”

  “Wait… I didn’t see you do anything at the gates. Do they just open automatically?”

  He shook his head. “There’s a sensor on the undercarriage of the car.”

  “Near the grappling hooks.”

  “Exactly.” He grinned and indicated she should enter. “We’ll get your vitals scanned.”

  “Ah…”

  “Or I can give you a key.” He closed the door behind them, and she heard the lock fall back into place.

  “Hi, honey! You’re home.”

  Aria couldn’t make out where the woman’s voice was coming from, even though she looked around.

  “Aria, say hello to Molly.”

  “Molly?”

  “My electronic assistant. She controls all the functions in the house. You can tell her what to do and she’ll do it.”

  “Within reason,” Molly responded. “I don’t do laundry. The washer agitates me.”

  He groaned.

  “Your sense of humor, I take it?” Aria asked. “It needs some work.”

  “Molly, say hello to our guest.”

  “Helllllllo, Genius,” the disembodied voice with a sexy hint of an Irish brogue all but purred. “I missed you.”

  “Programmed for Julien. Sorry. Molly, say hello to Aria.”

  “Oh. I apologize. So the genius hasn’t come to save me yet?”

  “Molly…say hello to Aria.”

  “Isn’t that a musical term?”

  “Very good, Molly. And spelled the same way. But in this case, it’s my guest’s name.”

  “Oh. Hello, Aria. Welcome to Kingston Castle.”

  “Kingston Castle?” Aria grinned when she saw him wince. The more she saw of Grant, and his idiosyncrasies, the more she liked him.

  “That’s our secret, Molly. What are you supposed to do with things that are secret?”

  “Oh. I know. Sorry.” Then, in a whisper, she repeated, “Welcome to Kingston Castle.”

  He shook his head. “I’m about to shut you down,” he threatened.

  “Touchy, touchy, Your Majesty.”

  Given the amount of time she’d spent at Bonds headquarters, Aria knew she should no longer be shocked by the toys and gadgets the company dreamed up, but this was a whole new level of electronic interaction. And because Molly had a personality, Aria found it more charming than intrusive. That could be the key, she realized, to moving the technology forward. It needed to be integrated, easy to interact with and it would be especially appealing if it was also fun.

  When they’d entered the house, it had been into a large, open space. Several hooks hung from the wall, and a wooden table stood nearby, and next to it, a large yellow Labrador. “You didn’t tell me you had a dog.” Its tail wagged. “What’s his name?”

  “He doesn’t have one.”

  “What? Dogs are supposed to have names.” She bent to pet the animal, but her hand passed through the air without stopping.

  “Hologram,” he explained before she could ask.

  “He looks so real.”

  “Thank you.”

  “That’s a little freaky,” she said.

  “But he doesn’t eat or need to go outside. You’re welcome to leave your briefcase here in the foyer.”

  She took a moment to drink in her surroundings. The kitchen appeared to be off to the left, and a table with six chairs was in front of it. A couple of banks of windows comprised most of the far wall, and they were separated by a gigantic fireplace. The ceilings were vaulted, and she guessed they were fifteen feet high at the tallest spots.

  Warm honey hardwood floors were accented with large, Southwestern-inspired throw rugs, and a leather sectional couch was arranged in front of the hearth.

  “Molly, open the blinds.”

  By slow measures, the windows were revealed.

  Everything seemed to draw Aria’s gaze toward the awe-inspiring grandeur of the outdoors. “Good heavens.”

  “That was my reaction, as well, the first time I walked in.”

  The view of the snow-dusted plateaus stole her breath, and it seemed as if the house dangled from the side of the mountain. “Land of Enchantment,” she said, understanding what he’d meant earlier. She looked at him in time to see his smile.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Now you get it.”

  “It’s awe-inspiring.”

  “It is indeed.” He nodded. “This way.”

  As she took the first couple of steps into the house, a wave of vertigo washed over her. “Tell me that’s optical illusion.”

  “You’re not going to fall,” he promised, “but the view is not an optical illusion. We’re anchored to granite. The couple who had this built hired a brilliant architect and a well-respected engineering firm.”

  “It’s spectacular.”

  “There’s a deck through that sliding glass door.”

  Since the deck had glass walls, she hadn’t noticed it right away. “I’m not sure I’m brave enough.”

  “You can always sit in the courtyard.” He grinned. “You wouldn’t be the first. Let me show you the kitchen then I’ll get the rest of the things from the car.”

  She followed him. The space was larger than she’d guessed, galley-style with quartz countertops and a bar separating it from the dining area. The way it was designed meant that even the cooktop offered a view out of the windows.

  For the first time in months, she felt as if she could truly breathe, not just physically, but psychologically. Being here, in the grandeur and peace, was already changing her.

  “I’m really not sure how you get anything done,” she said. “I could sit and stare for hours.”

  “I don’t always take the time to appreciate it. I should.” He placed his bags on the countertop and she put a couple alongside them.

  He pointed out the location of glasses and mugs, along with the coffeepot. “Since you’re going to be here for an indefinite amount of time, you’ll want to make yourself comfortable. Help yourself to anything you want, including the wine. I’m not particular. I buy what I want to drink, so I’m not saving any for a special occasion. Can I offer you anything?”

  “Water, please. I think it’s the altitude.” Along with the view and the very sexy man she was temporarily staying with.

  He grabbed a bottle for her and uncapped it. “Yeah. I know you can do it yourself.”

  “Am I that bad?”

  “You are.”

  Maybe she was, she realized. And perhaps it was okay to accept help from time to time. “In that case, I’ll say thank you.”

  Their gazes met and held for a few seconds as he passed the drink to her. A connection arced, formed. And she forced herself to look away rather than lean into it.

  “I’ll be right back with your luggage.” Before she could protest, he added, “No, you don’t need to help.”

  While he was gone, she walked toward a window then retreated a few steps. Aria had never been afraid of heights. She told herself it was no different from being in a skyscraper, but the illusion of hanging off the side of a mountain changed something for her, even though the trepidation wasn’t logical.

  She took a drink of water before putting the bottle down and going back to the foyer. As she was hanging up her coat, she heard him outside. The knob jostled, so she opened the door for him.

  The dog began to wag its tail again. She wasn’t sure how long it would take to get used to that.

  Grant came inside, accompanied by a burst of cold air.

  “I don’t think anyone’s ever let
me in my own house before,” he said.

  “You said to make myself comfortable.”

  “I’m glad you did.”

  Grant was creating an air or intimacy that she’d never experienced with another man. It told her she’d been right to cancel the wedding, despite all the upset and doubts.

  He left her belongings in the foyer then she accompanied him back to the kitchen to help put away the groceries and takeout food.

  When they were finished, he said, “Let me show you the rest of the house, give you a chance to get settled.”

  After hanging up his jacket, he grabbed her suitcase and his duffel bag before leading the way down the hall. She could become accustomed to his chivalry.

  “As you’ve already surmised, the house is more of a rectangle than a square. And not just for the view, but to cut down the wind exposure.”

  She nodded. “It seems the builder thought of every detail.”

  He pointed out a powder room then added, “I remodeled a little in order to accommodate the exercise room and my workshop. So there are only two bedrooms. This one is yours.”

  He opened the door and wheeled her suitcase into the closet.

  The space was bigger than her master bedroom at home.

  “You’ve got blinds and a blackout panel to keep out the sun if you want to sleep in.”

  A queen-sized bed stood on a thick white rug and was flanked by two nightstands. A small television was mounted to the wall. An upholstered chaise longue had a reading lamp nearby. “It’s lovely,” she said. “Any electronic surprises I should know about?”

  “If I spy on you, it will be the old-fashioned way.”

  “Does the door have a lock?”

  “Spoilsport.” But his grin was easy and contagious. “Let me show you the rest. You can use this bathroom.”

  As she’d come to expect, it was nice, using local stone and accented with the turquoise-blue that she already associated with New Mexico.

  The stall was large enough for two people, and she didn’t see a showerhead.

  “More like a rainfall,” he explained, answering her unasked question. “Lots of holes in the top. The towel rack will heat up the moment you turn on the water. And the temperature and pressure control is right here. Waterproof. Select your temperature. Molly will tell you when it’s the right temperature. It won’t take long, since we have a tankless heater.”

  So maybe Julien wasn’t completely without feeling. This punishment came with a few niceties.

  “Exercise room is next. Lights on, Molly, one hundred percent. Blinds open.”

  “Exercise room?” Aria repeated when he opened the door. “Isn’t that a bit of an understatement?”

  “I don’t want to drive to town to get my workout in,” he said. “So I’ve tried to make this as appealing as possible. Towels are over there. Wet ones go in the hamper. There’s a shower on that wall.”

  She followed him in, bypassing the equipment so she could see the pool and hot tub. “I thought I saw a hot tub when we were outside.”

  “You did.”

  “You have two?”

  “There’s nothing like a summer night outside.”

  “I’ve stayed in hotels that weren’t this nice.”

  “See why I can’t get rid of Julien?”

  “And maybe me,” she added.

  “Mi casa es su casa,” he replied. “My house is your house. Feel free to use the amenities at any time.”

  “Thank you. Grazie.”

  “Gracias,” he corrected with an easy smile. “Wrong language.”

  “I learned tres leches already.”

  “Why doesn’t it surprise me that you speak fluent cake?”

  She appreciated his teasing answer. “Dessert is my first language.” When Julien had given her this assignment, she hadn’t anticipated she’d like Grant, but he was easier to be around than she’d imagined, odd sense of humor included.

  “Would you like to see my room?”

  “That seems nosy.”

  “But?”

  “I’m nosy. It’s a serious character flaw.”

  He bypassed a closed door. Next to it was a keypad and a metal plate. “My workshop,” he said.

  She was reminded that he was a chief engineer for Bonds. As such, he developed a number of gadgets in secrecy.

  “I’ll show it to you later.”

  The master bedroom was at the end of the hall, obviously so that two walls could have floor-to-ceiling windows. And the one directly in front of her had French doors that exited onto another deck.

  But it was the portrait propped on an easel in the corner that riveted her. Track lighting illuminated it, and it was obvious he meant the picture to be enjoyed.

  The pastel was of a nude. The woman knelt on a rug that was much like the one in the guest room. The model’s buttocks rested on her calves. Her shoulders were rolled forward, head bowed, hair falling around her face. “Is that your girlfriend?” she asked, turning in time to see him put the duffel bag on the bed.

  Until this moment, it hadn’t occurred to her to ask if he was seeing anyone. It wasn’t any of her business, and it wouldn’t matter either way.

  “I don’t have a girlfriend.” He moved in closer. “The model isn’t anyone I know. I saw this painting in a gallery in Santa Fe.”

  “It’s…” She was at a loss for words. Over the years, she’d seen a lot of art, but nothing that she’d been inspired to pay a lot of money for. Her apartment was decorated with a handful of posters from her travels. “Do you mind if I have a better look?”

  “As long as you’re aware that you’re living dangerously again.”

  She glanced up at him. That wasn’t something she was accustomed to. With her height, and the boost from three-inch heels, she looked most men directly in the eye.

  “Which is something I’d like to encourage in you.”

  Aria’s heart had added a couple of extra beats. Despite that, she walked toward the easel. The woman’s pose made her look serene, and her hands, palm up on her thighs, appeared as if she were anticipating something.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it.” She leaned in to read the engraved metal plate. Submitted. Aria looked from the picture back to Grant.

  “I warned you,” he said.

  “You…” Her mouth dried. Suddenly she felt unnerved and wished she’d held onto the water bottle so that she had something to do with her hands.

  “Prefer my women submissive,” he finished for her.

  That word certainly didn’t apply to her.

  “And I mean sexually,” he went on. “And what’s interesting about that is the way I love strong women. The more headstrong, the better.”

  “How can that be?”

  “When she gives herself over to me, the feeling is humbling.”

  Over the years, she’d had friends who were involved in BDSM, but she’d never been with a man who practiced it. Until now, it was something she thought was interesting but didn’t apply to her. Now a dozen thoughts crowded through her mind, not least of all the confusion he’d created with his seemingly incompatible ideas. “The picture”—she glanced back at it—“seems so…” She struggled for the right word.

  Rather than saying anything, he waited.

  She refocused on him, hoping he’d understand. “Gentle.”

  “Tell me what you mean by that,” he encouraged.

  Part of her couldn’t believe they were standing in his bedroom, in front of a portrait of a naked woman, having an intellectual conversation. “From what I’ve heard… I associate submission and dominance with something more intense.”

  “And you believe this isn’t? Can you imagine what she’s thinking? She’s waiting with infinite patience, but we don’t know whether she’s been doing it for five minutes or five hours. She has no idea what will happen once her Dominant arrives. Yet she appears peaceful, at ease. I get the idea that she’s filled with trust, that she knows her devotion will be rewarded. That takes
real strength. Discipline.”

  His gaze was intently focused on her. It took all her effort not to shiver. Had she ever had a man look at her like that? As if noticing her every movement, paying exquisite attention to her?

  She was starting to see what Julien talked about with regards to Grant. The man was passionate about the things that captivated him. She wasn’t sure that her presence would achieve the results Julien hoped for. Distraction might be the last thing Grant needed.

  “From her expression, it’s obvious that the relationship she has with her partner is complex and rewarding. But I don’t fool myself that any of that is easy. It means she has to still her mind, much like in meditation, prayer, even study. Waiting with such composure while you’re filled with expectation and anticipation is difficult. And what she’s doing is transcending all of that, putting their mutual desire above her own wants.” He turned from the portrait to face her. “I find it commendable. Moreover, I respect and appreciate her for the effort.”

  “Is that what you want in a relationship?”

  “Ultimately, yes.”

  Aria wondered why she was suddenly seeing herself on her knees.

  “But I recognize that most people never find something like that.”

  She ignored the little tingle of arousal. “That’s a lot to expect from a woman.”

  “It’s a lot to expect from both of them,” he corrected. “Her Dom has to be worthy of that kind of devotion. I can’t imagine she’d do that a second time if he didn’t make it worth her while. A successful relationship, be it vanilla or extra spicy, requires each person to put the other first.”

  “Is that something you’ve had? Or an ideal you aspire to?” She searched his gaze. The blue depths seemed darker than they had earlier. She knew she was asking questions she didn’t have a right to, but she truly wanted to know him better.

  He moved his head slightly, as if considering his answer. “For a while, I thought I had it.”

  “Would you have a relationship where submission wasn’t a requirement?”

  “If the question is, would I date a woman who wasn’t interested in being tied up while I drove her to the edge of an orgasm and used my tongue to keep her there for a very, very long time…?”

  Aria waited, pulse hammering.