What comes first—your happiness or your job?
Ailsa McLagan is sent undercover to investigate possible shady dealings at the private BDSM club Diomhair. The last thing she expects is to be confronted by one of the Masters there. Not only does he make her want to sink to her knees, but he seems to see straight through her disguise, too.
Aidan is instantly attracted to the clueless sub he stumbles upon. Even though he knows she is hiding her true identity, he can’t help but push her to discover her limits, and introduce her to the delights of subbing to him.
Scared by the intensity of her reaction, Ailsa runs and all seems lost.
When the truth is revealed, can they work towards a true Dom/sub relationship, even though theirs started on a lie?
Reader Advisory: This book includes scenes of wax play and knife play.
General Release Date: 19th December 2014
The thought of the luxury of an evening to himself wasn’t lost on Aidan Jefferies. He stretched back in his office chair and wriggled his tight shoulders. He needed a ten-mile run or a massage. Or a good workout with a sub. No not a sub, his sub, he corrected himself.
As he was damned sure he’d not fit time for the run into his schedule in the near future, and was currently sub-less without anyone on the horizon to change that, he’d have to sort out a massage sometime soon. He needed to de-kink. Well not de-kink exactly. He sniggered to himself. There was about a cat in hell’s chance of that, but definitely de-knot his muscles. However, not that evening. He intended those hours to be lazy, kick back and relax ones. No massage, no companion, no thinking about work, only chilling.
Aidan glanced at the clock. Three hours and counting before he could lock his office door, get on his motorbike and ride the seven miles home. He checked the specification he’d written up, pressed send on his computer and made a note of what he’d done. There was nothing outstanding or urgent that had to be addressed there and then. His mind made up, Aidan turned on his intercom.
“Jacks?”
“She’s left for hot sex with her man. This is a recording.” His PA’s voice came over the line. “All queries can be sorted tomorrow. If she can walk.” The staccato voice stopped. “Hi, Ade, what’s up?” They didn’t stand on ceremony.
“Not a lot. Just get as much done as you can so we can clock off early. I reckon we need it.”
“Too right. Give me time to beautify myself, eh? Shugie’s home tonight.” Shugie, otherwise known as Hugh, was her husband. He worked away a lot of the time. “Ah shit, hold on, that’s the phone. Let me get rid of whoever it is. How dare they ring when we’re going to dog off?” The intercom went dead.
Aidan shook his head. Dog off? That was an expression he hadn’t heard for years. Why not skiving or playing hooky? She’d never change. Aidan took a swig of water and contemplated the evening ahead. He’d earmarked a steak and a good robust red wine for dinner, along with a gritty drama he’d recorded a few nights previously. He might even stretch to a sticky toffee pudding for dessert. Pure pig-out indulgence. Then it was going to be slouch on the sofa time, and watch hot women and steely-eyed men dice with death, and each other. Right until the credits rolled on a satisfactory ending, be it happy or not.
He wasn’t needed that evening at Diomhair, a private BDSM club based in a rebuilt Scottish castle not far from where he lived. It was the place where he worked for pleasure and not necessity. Diomhair was proving to be very popular, and he was more than glad to lend a hand when necessary, over and above his allocated shifts, both as a dungeon master and a Dom. He blessed the day he’d discovered it and its owners. They had become more than good friends. In fact, they were, he acknowledged, a lifeline at times, and he never minded pulling an extra shift or doing a nice knife or wax demonstration for them.
The phone rang and he sighed. Obviously Jackie hadn’t managed to fob off whoever was on the line. He hoped it wasn’t going to stop them leaving early. Why did the ring sound ominous? Was it because a phone call might delay that perfect moment when he felt like a school kid playing hooky? Why it should hit him like that he had no idea. After all, Aidan was his own boss, and only had himself and Jackie to consider. She deserved time off. Over all the long and lean months she’d given him her support, and on more than one occasion had provided his lunch and told him to hold onto her wages. As she said to him, very firmly, she worked to provide the icing on the cake, not the bread and butter of life.
She was a godsend. Now their accounts were firmly out of the red and Aidan had more work than one man could easily handle. If Jackie wouldn’t take a step upward, and she said she wouldn’t, then he needed to hire someone else to help with the workload. Whoever would have thought his little advertising firm would take off so well?
The phone rang again, breaking into his reverie. He’d worry about the need for more staff later. For now he’d answer the damned thing.
After 30 plus years in Scotland, Raven now lives near the east Yorkshire coast, with her long-suffering husband, who is used to rescuing the dinner, when she gets immersed in her writing, keeping her coffee pot warm and making sure the wine is chilled.
With a new home to decorate and a garden to plan, she’s never short of things to do, but writing is always at the top of her list.
Her other hobbies include walking along the coast and spotting the wildlife, reading, researching, cros stitch and trying not to drop stitches as she endeavours to knit.
Being left-handed, and knitting right-handed, that’s not always easy.
She loves hearing from her readers, either via her website, by email or social media.
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