Chapter Thirty-Seven

“Good evening, Ms. Candi,” the doorman intoned with all the illustrious pomp his station required. Then he cracked a smile and helped her remove her coat. “You look outstanding tonight, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

She laughed, the bell-like timbre happy and carefree. “How could anyone mind a handsome young man offering such effusive flattery?”

“Not flattery. I’m most sincere in my effusive obsequiousness.” He tipped his hat, bowed low, and opened the door to the house manager’s suite.

Unsure why she was being shown into Miss Devine’s office, she walked in confidently. Why wouldn’t she? She felt amazing. Her afternoon had been a spectacular success. It had been life changing. She had finally fully inhabited her inner sex goddess. She grinned broadly at the memories of Ian on his knees, her delicious revenge, and her super orgasm.

Tonight would be even better. Any doubts about her age had been squelched earlier when she’d shown him—and more important herself—that she could let go of past prudishness and be the woman she truly wanted to be. A Dominatrix, no less!

Further, with their masks removed—the figurative, if not the tangible ones—they would truly be able to get to know one another rather than hiding who they were inside, and that prospect filled her with joy.

“Ms. Candi, you look absolutely stunning. You’re glowing.” Miss Devine indicated to Tori to sit on the divan, and she moved to join her there.

Tori beamed. “Thank you. I feel transformed. And I’m looking forward to more transforming tonight.” She winked at Miss Devine.

“I’m glad to hear you say that. We’ve a somewhat unusual request for this evening, and I wanted to check in with you before we proceed.”

She sat up straighter on the divan. “Really. What is it?”

“To clarify, it’s not that this is an unusual experience here at Club Exotica. We perform the service a few times a year, but it is unusual to provide it for a guest.”

“Oh?” Curiosity piqued, she wanted Miss Devine to get to the point.

“Before we discuss tonight’s fun, I’d like to ask if you would consider officially joining our little band of merry men and women? We have enjoyed having you as a guest, but it’s policy that after a few visits, sponsored guests consider transitioning to full member status.”

Tori had known this was coming, but realizing she needed to make a decision this soon jolted her. Did she really want to come here regularly, or was it enough that she had found Ian and could play with him in the privacy of their flats? The cost, which she still didn’t know but guessed was exorbitant, provided another obstacle to becoming a member.

Miss Devine made an “it’s okay” gesture with her hands when Tori hesitated. “You don’t need to make decision tonight. But I want to assure you, as membership committee chair, your application would be approved. It goes without saying that your connections here in the club are impressive, but, also, your own status as a prominent judge, a position I understand you earned from hard work and determination, further recommends you.”

Miss Devine’s use of the plural in regard to her connections gave her pause, and she had to think for a moment. Of course, Diana was a peer, but Ian must also be included on the list since he, too, carried noble blood.

“Well, thank you…very much. I am intrigued by this place and will seriously consider it. However, right now I believe someone is waiting for me?”

“Yes. Let’s not keep him waiting.” This time it was Miss Devine who winked. “I guess you’re wondering about the surprise that has been arranged for this evening’s entertainment?”

Tori nodded.

Gesturing for her to remain seated, the house manager rose and walked over to a cabinet.

Arousal curled low in Tori’s belly, knowing Ian had planned something deliciously wicked to please her. Absentmindedly, she patted her handbag, the collar he’d given her waiting inside.

Earlier, she had considered putting it on herself, but she wanted to do it right. To kneel down before him, naked and submissive, and let him collar her. But first, she anticipated he’d want a little turnabout’s-fair-play, and she looked forward to it as much as she’d enjoyed playing Dominatrix.

She now understood she liked it both ways—meting it out and taking her strokes, too. There must be a word for a such a person.

Suddenly another thought occurred to her. Would he spank her to get even? Her pelvis clenched, her arousal jumping leagues.

Yep, I want that, too. She stifled a smile.

Miss Devine returned and sat down. She held a blindfold and a red silk ribbon that matched Tori’s scarlet lingerie that was teasingly revealed through the nearly sheer black negligée. “As I said, this level of play is usually reserved to full members, but given the status of your friend, we are making an exception. Tonight, your sponsor has reserved the Big Game Hunting Suite for an overnight stay. Your private playroom is fully equipped with every type of equipment or toy offered here at Club Exotica.”

Tori was unable to stop herself from grinning. Images of Ian and her “playing” consumed her mind, and she found it hard to pay attention to the rest of what the house manager said. Tori wanted to try out everything, to do everything. Already her body responded, grew heated, just knowing he was waiting for her.

“Ms. Candi?”

“What? Oh, I’m sorry. You were saying?”

“It’s fine, dear. You’re going to have a lovely time. We’ll make sure of it.” Miss Devine patted her shoulder. “Now, please give me your hands.”

“What?”

Miss Devine looked her over, carefully. “You didn’t hear me at all, did you?”

Sheepishly, Tori shook her head.

“Please pay attention, because we cannot proceed without your consent.”

Tori nodded and tried to look alert.

“Designed to provide a higher level of edge play, the suite is fully soundproof and secure, so you’ll be at the mercy of your lover. Of course, nothing bad has ever happened there, because house rules state membership would be revoked for physically harming a sub or for ignoring a safe word. But the feeling that you’re isolated and alone adds to the titillation. Do you understand?”

Tori nodded, her excitement escalating.

“The other part of this unique experience is what we like to call the Slave Parade. This is often requested for events such as collaring ceremonies or when a sub is being given to a new master. Once, it was even used before a marriage proposal.” Miss Devine gestured to Tori’s skimpy red lingerie. “Your outfit, by the way, is perfect. Everyone will love it.”

Alarm washed through Tori. “Everyone? What is the Slave Parade?”

“You’re blindfolded and your hands are tied. Then you’re delivered reclining on a litter to your lover, as if you’re a newly purchased slave or a present. I’ll need your verbal consent once William returns to be a witness.”

“I’ll be carried through the club in front of everyone!” Tori’s voice rose to a high pitch, along with her alarm.

“That is the usual method, so you aren’t injured trying to walk blindfolded.” Miss Devine smiled again, but this time a faraway look softened her eyes. “It’s erotic. Being carried up high on a chaise on display before all the members. Knowing their eyes are on you, but unable to see who is observing you.”

Tori’s eyes narrowed at the other woman. “You’ve done it yourself. I can see it on your face.”

Miss Devine just smiled. “Is there anything you need to do before we begin?”

“No. I’m ready.”

Miss Devine pressed a button, and the doorman came in. Following what seemed to be a standard script, she requested Tori’s verbal consent before the witness.

“Yes, I give my consent to participating as a submissive in the Slave Parade and to being delivered to the Big Game Hunting Suite for a night of slave service.”

Miss Devine nodded, and William departed. “Now, please hold out your hands.”

She quickly secured Tori’s wrists together with the silk ties, but when the house manager placed a blindfold over her eyes, Tori’s utter vulnerability about what was to come hit her. Suddenly, she understood why this was considered such a wicked and daring experience. Even though Ian waited for her, it felt a thousand times more scandalous to be delivered to him as a slave unable to see who watched her being paraded by or to see what her “owner” planned to do to her once she arrived.

It was Tori’s turn to demonstrate that she trusted him. With his many presents, he’d demonstrated his deep desire to be with her, and today he’d given her the ultimate gift, trusting her with complete control over him. A master game player, Ian was now paying her back on a scale surpassing anything she could have imagined.

She trembled, fissures of fear skittering down her back.

“Are you cold, Ms. Candi?” Concern tinged Miss Devine’s tone.

“No. Just excited. And a bit nervous.”

“I hope you enjoy your special evening with your handsome man. Are you ready now?”

“Yes, I am.”

She heard the double doors being opened and the weighted footsteps of big men entering. Something heavy was placed on the floor.

Miss Devine guided a bound and blindfolded Tori to the litter and helped her to settle into an elegant reclining pose. The cushions felt soft but firm, and she reached out with her bound hands to finger the rich satin.

“You look perfect,” Miss Devine said encouragingly. “Gentlemen, you may begin.”

Tori swayed as the litter was lifted—up, up, up—into the air. She sensed it was very high, maybe over the men’s heads. She wondered how many men carried her. The litter tilted slightly, making her tip dangerously, before settling into a more stable position.

It began to move as the same heavy feet began to walk. They proceeded into the Serengeti, and music filled the air along with the hushed sounds of members conversing.

Tori stiffened. There might be people already staring at her. But the back-and-forth rocking of the litter as it progressed forward, so incredibly old-world and romantic, soothed her.

Distantly, a gong sounded, and all talking ceased.

Was that for her?

The ringing peal repeated, and the murmuring and shuffling of many patrons grew noisy as the unseen throng closed in around the litter. Bystanders commented about her as if she were a real slave on her way from an auction to her new owner. She became property, a commodity valued only for what benefit she could provide the owner.

“What a beauty! Now there’s something I’d happily buy,” said a man to her left.

A nearby woman laughed. “Yes, but you already have me, and I’m all you can handle.”

Another female voice called out, “I hope you’ve had your sleep, because I know from experience, you’re in for a long night.”

Laughter and murmurs bubbled all around Tori.

She sensed they were parading in a circle around the Serengeti, the sounds of more members entering the large space to watch her erotic display making her both more excited and more nervous.

Murmurs of approval and catcalls followed her like a frothy wake, adding to the sense of spectacle. Deprived of sight, their naughty banter filled the void, becoming almost tangible. It brushed her skin, flowed through her body, and infused her spirit. Combined with the gentle sway of the litter, the highly sensual experience was drugging, relaxing, and arousing at the same time.

“Slave, blow me a kiss,” urged a man to her right.

Another asked, “May I touch you? Or buy you?”

She shook her head, grinning. Giving her voice a sultry lilt, she replied in mock sadness. “I’m sorry, but my owner would never sell me.”

She smiled graciously in the direction of a man who said, “You are stunning. If you come on the market again, I’ll be first in line.”

She should be anxious or embarrassed, or at least a little self-conscious, but she wasn’t. The realization both startled and pleased her. Her inner sex goddess had taken over again, and she was having the time of her life.

A woman teased, “I’d love it if the owner would take the slave to the Animal Training Reserve so we can all watch its ass get spanked.”

A bawdy chorus of agreement followed, and Tori laughed along with them.

A masculine voice, she recognized but couldn’t immediately place, crooned, “I’m most pleased to see you’re enjoying the club. If your new lover isn’t enough for you, I’d welcome the chance to entertain you myself. Privately.”

“Oh, you lucky slave,” squealed a female from the other side. “He doesn’t make that offer—”

A couple of others joined in to shout, “Ever!”

It must be the club owner, the one Tori met her first night here. She shivered, remembering the darkly dangerous man. But the new Tori, the brave and urbane femme fatale, couldn’t let his comment go unanswered. She called out in her most sultry voice, “Sorry, Sir, but my man’s never let me down yet. I know him well, so I can say with certainty that…he’ll take me to heights way beyond your capabilities.”

Raucous laughter filled the hall. She thought, but wasn’t certain, she heard the owner murmur, “Touché.”

She marveled how expertly the well-trained staff carried her down the stairs. The litter never tipped, even a tiny bit. Her slave parade seemed endless, but it was probably only minutes, and all the while her anticipation and arousal grew, spreading through her body until her entire being, body and soul, became tingly and needy for Ian’s touch.

Bawdy bonhomie followed her until she was carried into a room that her senses told her was much smaller. The eerie stillness after the rowdy carnival atmosphere changed the aura from merry to mysterious on a heartbeat. She felt a presence waiting for her.

“Here’s your delivery, Sir.”

The litter lowered and landed with a slight thump on the floor. Thinking it odd that Ian didn’t say anything, she thanked her deliverymen for the ride.

“Enjoy your new slave, Sir,” said one, completely ignoring her. Then the door shut.

Apparently property wasn’t supposed to talk. She swallowed the questions that wanted to bubble out. His silly, bizarre, wondrous game thrilled her.

It also wracked her nerves. What would happen next?

Strong, gentle hands guided her up off the litter. While she stood there, he undid the silk ribbons binding her hands. Next, he untied the shoulder bows to her filmy negligée, and it fluttered to the ground around her ankles. All she wore now were her transparent panties and bra.

A single finger caressed her breast through the lace, and her nipple peaked instantly. Expectation made her lean toward him. He fondled the other one, and she moaned.

She wanted to ask him what he planned to do to her, but she felt talking would make it pedestrian. Less mysterious. Not wanting to ruin this special moment, she kept her questions to herself, which also ratcheted her titillation ever higher. This was by far the most unique experience of her life. Her pulse pounded—in a good way—and every inch of her exposed flesh tingled with alertness.

The gentle hands urged her forward. She’d become used to the blindfold covering her eyes while on the litter, but now trying to walk, it overwhelmed her again—surrounding her in blackness in an unfamiliar space.

He pressed on her lower back, and she took tentative steps in the direction he indicated. After a few feet, he stopped her. A firm pressure on her back guided her down, and she stretched out her hands before her until she met the waiting equipment. Feeling it over—a combination of metal and padded leather—she guessed it was a spanking bench. Brand new, too, based on the strong leather smell.

Gingerly, she climbed onto it.

Strong hands adjusted her position, and quickly she found herself restrained face down on the odd piece of furniture. Her wrists were cuffed and secured to armrests and her ankles to footrests. He tightened straps around her thighs and lower back. Within minutes, she could barely move an inch.

Draped over the bench, her ass high in the air and her thighs forced open, she felt completely exposed. He would be able to touch her body any way he wanted, and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. Wildly erotic and wicked, she was at the complete mercy of a man who clearly wanted his revenge games. Excitement fluttered in her belly and her sex clenched, the edgy thrill equal parts anticipation and fear.

Again she almost broke the silence—but this time to urge him to hurry. Raw, toe-curling lust made her antsy. And crazy. She needed him now!

Warm hands gently caressed the length of her body. She tingled everywhere he trailed his fingers, from her shoulders and down her back, across her buttocks, and finally down the backs of her thighs and calves.

She murmured her appreciation. “Mmm.”

Her silent lover must have liked her response, because he reversed course, tracing his fingers—the lightest feathery touch—back up her legs and along her inner thighs, stopping shy of her twitching sex.

“Mmm,” she repeated, both lulled and aroused.

All of sudden, her knickers were yanked down to her midthighs.

Smack!

She lurched, but the tight restraints held her fast. It hadn’t hurt, not that much, but the abrupt change after the oh-so-gentle caress shocked her senses.

Thwack.

She jerked and grunted. He’d struck her with a paddle this time, and it did hurt. A lot!

Thwack. Thwack. Two more in rapid succession.

She yelped at the sharp bite.

Safe word?

They hadn’t set one. She opened her mouth to remind him, but a wildly different sensation stilled her. Something incredibly luscious swept across her skin. The downy softness left a tingling, barely there impression everywhere he brushed her eager flesh. She moaned, wanting more of the intense pleasure.

“Oh, my. That feels so good,” she said on an exhale, her body melting into a puddle. “Please! I need more.”

In response to her plea, he grunted. It might have been an aborted chuckle. Ian was having fun.

But so was she.

Whack, whack, whack, whack.

This felt different. Less forceful, but many little simultaneous pricks created an equally devastating sting.

Was that what a cat-o’-nine-tails felt like?

He hit her again, and she shrieked. Although even milder, he’d swished it between her spread legs, hitting her sex with multiple little stings.

Her engorged sex reacted to the new sensation by clenching repeatedly. Her arousal shot higher.

“Yes. More.” She was quickly sailing beyond sensible thought. Overwhelming sensation flooded her, and the desire for more was the only thing driving her.

This time he did chuckle, but something about the sound bothered her. It took her a moment to understand why. She’d never really heard Ian laugh before. Their time together had been spent mostly bantering, sparring, or fucking.

“Please!” she pleaded again.

Was this his plan? Would he tease and torture her this way but never let her come? Was this his payback after she’d forced him to service her on his knees and then left him engorged and wanting?

Whop!

She forgot all about her need to climax as a fiery streak blazed across the back of her thighs.

“Ow!” she screeched, realizing she’d been caned.

Whop! The second landed across her bare ass.

“That hurts!” she cried. “Stop. Safe word! We need a safe word!”

Whop!

She screamed again. He’d hit her in the same burning spot on her thighs. She shuddered, and tears slipped from her eyes, wetting her blindfold.

He’d struck her again after she begged him to stop. Why would he do that?

She twisted around, trying in vain to see him, but only blackness greeted her.

“Please stop. Please!” She cried openly now.

“Shh,” came quiet comfort. “Shh,” he said again, while a hand brushed her back softly.

A whirring vibrator pressed against her clit, and she struggled to pull away from the invasion.

“No, stop! I don’t want this anymore,” she yelled, but he increased the speed. Now she battled her own body as well as the restraints. She did not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her orgasm. Not now, and not ever again.

As the detested white-hot light started to flood her mind, a knock sounded on the door.

“Damnation!” He pulled the vibrator from her, and it hit the ground with a thud.

Her entire body juddered, twitched, and froze like an electrical shock wave had passed through her.

It wasn’t Ian in the room with her.

Footsteps sounded on the floor, moving toward the door.

“Rupert!” she screamed. “Let me up. Let me up right this bloody fucking minute!”

He didn’t answer her but opened the door, his voice a snarl. “I’m not ready yet. She hasn’t popped.”

“Excuse me?” Condescension dripped like hot wax in the woman’s tone.

She recognized the voice. Rupert’s Domme, Mistress Polly.

His attitude changed instantly. “I’m sorry, Mistress. Please forgive my insolence. I wanted everything to be perfect for you, but I need a little more time to make her orgasm.”

Tori bucked wildly against her restraints, the leather not giving.

Between sobs, she repeated, almost incoherently, “Let me up! Fuck you, Rupert!”

“What’s this?” the woman asked, her voice loud and demanding.

“Polly! Please release me,” Tori yelled from across the room. “I am not okay.”

“Do you mean to tell me, Nappie, that this woman is restrained against her will?”

“He tricked me.” Anger made Tori’s voice strong even as more tears seeped from behind her blindfold, the fire burning her backside like a red-hot brand. “I didn’t agree to this! Well, not with him.”

“How dare you bring me into something like this!” shouted the Domme.

“No. It’s not like that,” Rupert whined. “Victoria and I are meant to be together. She needs to understand that I can be every bit as adventurous as any other guy here.”

The woman’s staccato footsteps advanced toward Tori.

Rupert continued rambling. “We were having fun, and she was on the verge of coming. I only needed another minute.”

“Shh. It’s okay,” Polly said to Tori as she rapidly undid the restraints.

“No, wait!” Rupert cried. “We can’t let her up until she comes. She needs to understand. I have to show her. She belongs with us…to both of us.”

The Domme ignored his outburst, removing Tori’s blindfold and helping her off the bench. She walked her to the bed and wrapped her in a quilt. “You’re safe now,” she said, murmuring other comforting words. “Just rest here a moment.”

Tori watched as this gentle woman transformed before her eyes into a commanding presence. Standing tall, Mistress Polly ordered him to his knees. Quickly he complied, head downcast, all the while still begging her forgiveness.

“It’s not my forgiveness you should be pleading for,” Mistress Polly retorted. “But hear this, Nappie, we’re through, and you are finished here at this club.”

“It’s all a big misunderstanding.” Barely glancing at Tori, he threw out, “I’m sorry, Victoria.” He prostrated himself on the floor in front of the Domme, pleading for her to relent.

Mistress Polly turned and looked at Tori. “I’m going to call for the monitors, but do you want a chance to repay him in kind first?” She picked up the discarded cane from the floor.

Tori looked at it, hardly believing that the thin reed of bamboo could have caused such intense pain. Anger fueled her with vigor, and she lurched off the bed. Dragging the blanket wrapped around her body with her, she marched to the prostrate Rupert.

She wanted to kick him. Spit on him. Screech at him.

She did none of these things.

Sucking in an energizing lungful of air, she centered her mind.

Mistress Polly held the cane out to her, but Tori shook her head. Raising her chin and standing tall, she let every ounce of her judge’s authority reek in her tone. “No. He’s not worth the effort.”

“As you wish.” The Domme dipped her head in acquiescence.

“I just want him gone.” Tori walked over and pressed a button on the wall as Rupert continued sniveling on the floor. Within a minute, the room was swarming with staff.

Miss Devine arrived shortly afterward, and once she understood the situation, a look of horror crossed her face. She apologized profusely and repeatedly.

Wrapped in the quilt, Tori felt every inch of her naked embarrassment before the Chanel-suited house manager. Tori eyed her clothes where they lay by the litter, wishing they would magically appear on her body.

“It’s okay. It’s clear the bastard tricked us both,” Tori said, pleased with the strength in her tone.

Rupert had risen from the floor and regained his stiff British demeanor. His tone condescending, he maintained it was all a misunderstanding and that he was being wrongfully accused.

Miss Devine flicked her hand, and two large men started to drag him from the room.

“Wait!” Tori ordered.

They stopped, and everyone in the room looked at her.

She looked down her nose at Rupert. “I want to know how you managed to trick me. I was supposed to meet someone else here tonight. Why were you here instead?”

More than she’d wanted anything in her life, she had to understand why Ian wasn’t here right now. Why hadn’t he saved her from this nightmare?

Even strung between two large men, Rupert somehow managed to look haughty. “That was simple enough. I told the stupid young man we were back together, and he left.”

Tori stalked closer, still clutching her blanket about her body. “I don’t believe you. He wouldn’t have left without confirming it with me.”

“But he did, dearest. In fact, I watched him leave with another woman as you were being paraded as my slave.”

Rupert tilted his head, looking pityingly at her. “She was very pretty and so young. Odd that he even considered dillydallying with a woman of your advanced age.”

His derision, coming from a man she’d long admired and who she had believed cared for her, hit Tori with the force of a punch to the gut. Her stomach curdling, she bent over, fighting the nausea.

It couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t! She didn’t want to believe it was possible that Ian had betrayed her twice.

She shut her eyes against this new pain, but no way would she let Rupert win. She sucked in a harsh breath and dragged her body upright, forcing her chin high. “I don’t believe you.”

Her eyes roved the room, despair and confusion turning her mind to mush. Miss Devine watched her, looking sad.

“Did he?” Tori asked her. “Is Rupert—Napoleon—telling the truth?”

A sympathetic expression on her face, Miss Devine stepped closer to her, but she didn’t answer. “I don’t have the full circumstances about what happened in here, but from what Mistress Polly told me, you have the right to press charges against Napoleon. Would you like us to call the police?”

Startled, Tori weighed the ramifications quickly and dismissed the idea. Looking at Rupert, her tone as chilly as ice, she said, “I won’t press charges because I don’t want my name publicly associated with this club. I’m sure you don’t, either, Baron. In return for my leniency, I expect you to never, ever contact me again.”

His superior attitude firmly back in place, he said with a snort, “You know as well as I do that you were getting off on it. If I’d had a few more minutes, I would have you begging for—”

“Do not force my hand.”

“Okay, okay. Calm down. I don’t need you or this place. There are attractive females everywhere who would—”

The house manager flicked her wrist again, and the men dragged him from the room even as he kept on ranting. Mistress Polly followed him out, but the house manager stayed behind.

“I am truly sorry,” Miss Devine repeated, distraught. “I had no idea what was going on, but I should have. I manage this club, and everything that goes on under its roof is my responsibility. Because you had dinner here with Napoleon the other night, I mistakenly thought the two of you were lovers. I sincerely apologize and offer my deepest regrets.”

“Just tell me the truth. Did Randy leave with another woman?”

Miss Devine hesitated. She placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I believe so.”

Horrible pain sucker punched Tori again, the emotional distress as penetrating and real as any physical blow could ever be. She doubled over and didn’t fight it this time as her mind fought a truth that still didn’t make any sense.

Why would Ian believe Rupert? Why hadn’t he asked her first before leaving?

But facts were facts. He must not have cared very much that she was meeting another man or he would have confronted her about it. Then he’d left with another woman, a much younger woman, and that somehow hurt even more.

He left me here to be tied up and beaten. Sickened, his betrayal hurt far worse than the three flaming reminders of Rupert’s sadism.

Miss Devine placed a hand on Tori’s back, gently comforting her. “I can’t identify who Randy left with for privacy reasons, but it won’t break any rules to say that I think she is an old friend.”

Tori hated pity. She stood up straight and stepped away. Head held high, she said, “It’s fine, really. We are nothing to each other. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get dressed and go home.”

“Yes, of course. Please let me put the club’s car at your disposal. It’s the least we can do.”

After giving her a few minutes to dress, Miss Devine returned with some hot tea and biscuits. Sitting with her on the suite’s divan, Tori drank some of the comforting beverage and nibbled on a cookie while a staff member retrieved her coat and her personal things from her locker in the ladies’ dressing room.

Finally, Miss Devine walked her out of the club. Tori ignored the curious looks from other club members, but mostly Club Exotica hummed along with its obscene activity. An hour had passed, and there was no sign of Rupert or the big commotion.

Tori settled, exhausted, into the lush interior of the club’s limousine. The house manager insisted on escorting her all the way home, even though Tori said it wasn’t necessary.

On the drive, Miss Devine continued to apologize. “Ms. Candi, on behalf of Club Exotica, I extend to you again our heartfelt regret for the mix-up. I’m going to implement new rules to ensure it doesn’t happen again, but there’s really no excuse for such a lapse.”

Tori could probably get her fired for such a dangerous mistake—one that might have resulted in the police being called in and bringing public scrutiny to a place that was, at present, so secret no outsider could confirm its existence. But she didn’t feel anger toward Miss Devine. Her fury had only one target.

“I accept your apology. I don’t hold you responsible, but I’m glad you’re instituting safeguards. It was a highly unusual circumstance. Napoleon… Ha! I guess there’s no reason to respect his privacy anymore. Rupert is unhinged, something he managed to hide even from me, and we dated for several years.”

“Lord Bridlington has already been expelled from the club. I’ve full authority to rescind membership as needed. He’ll never set foot inside again. Also, I was thinking, with your permission, I could call Randy and explain. Tell him it was a big misunderstanding.”

“No. That’s not necessary.”

He left with another woman, and Tori didn’t ever want to talk to him again.

The limousine pulled up to her Canary Wharf high-rise.

“As you wish. Please accept my personal apologies. If there is ever anything I can do for you, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask.” Miss Devine reached out and placed her hand on Tori’s, giving it a little squeeze. “Thank you, truly. You’ve a generous spirit. See, I knew you’d be perfect for our little club.”

Tori almost pulled her hand back. “Actually, I haven’t made up my mind yet that I want to become a member. After tonight, I need to be sure it’s right for me.”

Miss Devine released her hand. “Yes, of course, but I hope you’ll give us another chance. Anytime you would like to come by, we would welcome you as our guest, gratis.”

Tori thanked her but said it was unlikely she’d want to return anytime soon. The offer would remain open indefinitely, replied Miss Devine.

When Tori entered her building, her trusty doorman, Johnny, was nowhere about. She could use some of his cheeriness tonight.

Exhaustion and sadness filled her, but worst of all, she dreaded running into Ian in the Royal Courts. She made a promise to herself—not from any word or expression would he ever know that his betrayal had gutted her. If he thought she’d betrayed him with an old boyfriend, so be it. Obviously, he didn’t care too much about her if he could blithely enjoy making love to another woman on the very night he’d planned to be with her.

Tori clutched tightly to the only solace left to her, determined that Ian would remain forever unaware of how deeply he’d hurt her and how much she mourned his loss.