“And you can make her have sex with other people, like you did with Malin.”
“I don’t share her often, but it was in her contract that I could pair her with other men or women.”
This was so crazy to Syria. “But you have a submissive too.”
“Yes, Malin stays on as long as I want her. She has an open contract, and either of us can terminate at any time.”
“But there are even more, right?”
He hesitated. “Yes. I have a lot of positions in my household.”
“And you have sex with them all?”
He laughed. “Not all.”
Syria fiddled with the corner of the napkin. “I couldn’t picture you getting it on with Bill the driver.”
“Oh, Syria, you are even more delightful than I thought. Your humor would be a great asset to some of the stodgier dealings that complicate my life.”
Shock bolted through her as she understood what he meant now. “You are asking me to be your slave?”
“I wanted to explore the option.”
“But you’ve only met me twice.”
“And both times I was completely entranced by you.” He reached for her hand again, persistent.
She turned loose of the napkin and let him hold her fingers in his cool grip. “What about Malin? She seems to expect to take Aliara’s place.”
“She isn’t right. You saw her. She’d too bold, too strong-willed. Plus, our play has gotten too rough, and she is marked.”
“The scars on her back?”
“And elsewhere. It isn’t suitable for quite a number of situations.”
“But you did that to her.”
“Some of it was me. Some were by others. She’s allowed to play with members of the household.”
“So you dictate when and who they have sex with?”
“I want everyone in my organization clean and healthy and safe.”
Syria felt mildly repulsed by the idea of an endless orgy of people, even if it were within a marbled mansion. “I don’t think this would be for me.”
He squeezed her fingers. “I haven’t even made my offer.”
“You don’t need to.”
“Let me try.”
He let go of her hand and tapped a single button on the cell phone that rested silently next to his glass. A man in an elegant white silk shirt arrived and placed a leather case on the table, then slipped back out the curtain.
Erik pulled a sheaf of papers from the case. “I’m proposing a trial for 72 hours only. You can be in my company and play out some of the elements of the contract. Then we can decide exactly what our terms would be.”
Syria stared at the pages. “Why would I do this?”
“I can change your life. Give you anything you want. And be precisely the sort of man you’d like me to be.”
Syria swallowed hard, picturing Tyson. “I don’t even know what that would be.”
“I bet you do.”
“It wouldn’t involve having sex with the kitchen maids.”
“You might be surprised at how much pleasure can be gained from a controlled environment, an expanded monogamous circle.”
“That’s an oxymoron.”
Erik laughed again. “I can see you are going to be a wonderful challenge. And I am prepared to rise to it.”
He zipped the papers back into the case. “This is for you to consider later. For now, we’ll have dinner, and perhaps dance. I would love to have an excuse to hold you close, even in public.”
For the first time, Syria realized music was indeed filtering through the curtain, some combination of stringed instruments. “I can do that.”
“Good.” He pressed another button on his phone.
Within moments, the waiter arrived with two silver-domed plates. The aromas that wafted up when he revealed the dinner made Syria’s belly rumble.
“Bon appetite,” the waiter said, and backed out of the alcove.
Erik held up his glass. “To our arrangement.”
Syria lifted hers too. “To never caving.”
Erik laughed again as he sipped the wine. “This is already a night to remember.”
10: Ropes
The dinner had been exquisite. Syria felt happy and calm as the waiter whisked away the contents of the table. Erik stood, reaching to help Syria from her seat. She thought the dinner was ending when two men arrived and took away the table and chairs.
“Now, we dance,” Erik said. Another boy pushed a red satin chaise lounge into the room, and Syria’s heart sped up. Maybe he was planning to seduce her after all.
The waiter tied back the curtain a few inches, allowing the haunting sounds of the violins and cello to enter their space. Syria peeked out. The clientele struck her as rather homogenous now, mostly elegantly dressed businessmen with beautiful women, sometimes one, others with two.