They climbed the stairs to the top floor and he noted she still wasn’t out of breath or lagging behind. “Leave your pack by the door,” he ordered her, marching straight through the living room and pulling two meals out of his freezer. He put them both in the microwave oven, pressed the timer and then turned to her. “Now tell me why you are really here.”
“Everything I’ve told you is the truth.”
“What’s your name?”
“Andorra Yasbit.”
He crossed his arms and stared at her. “We’ve got ten minutes while the food cooks. I want to know exactly how and why you ended up on my mountain.”
She seemed to sigh and collapse into herself. At last. Now we get the poor little rich girl story. Instead she told him about her family disintegrating, traveling for three months, losing the job at the bar which she’d desperately needed, then hiking up the mountain. While she spoke he made mental notes to Google her name, the bar, and the bar owner. All those things could easily be verified.
He put their meals on plates, handed her a fork, and offered her a choice of beer or orange juice. She chose juice so he had that, too. He still wasn’t fully convinced about her story, but she’d eaten her chicken risotto as if she were hungry and without appearing to notice it came out of a box instead of from a gourmet supplier. It was time to test her further.
“This is a BDSM community. Do you know what that is?”
“Yes.”
“I am a Dom. You should call me Master.”
This time her gaze rested on his for a long moment, before she said softly, “Yes, Master.”
“Have you ever participated in BDSM?”
For the first time she smiled. It was a happy little grin as if she were remembering something she’d enjoyed. “My stepbrother took me to a BDSM club once and we watched. It was—interesting.”
His heart suddenly beat faster. “And would you be interested in that kind of lifestyle for yourself?”
“As a lifestyle I don’t know enough about it yet to say. But I would be interested in pursuing the idea, Master.”
It was too soon, much, much too soon, to know if she was who she said she was or not. But there was a flicker of hope deep inside him. Maybe, just maybe, she might turn out to be the kind of woman he wanted.
Chapter Two
“This is Nevis. She’ll show you around, answer any of your questions, and look after you.”
Andorra was left standing in the hallway staring at his shut door. He’d given her a meal, for which she was extremely grateful, made a call on his cell phone, and as soon as there’d been a knock on his door, he’d introduced her to this woman and left her. She smiled at the woman. Nevis was a bit older than her, with short, curly, salt-blonde hair and blue eyes.
“What would you like to see? We don’t get many visitors here,” said Nevis.
“I have no idea. I didn’t realize this place was private property. I just wanted to get to the top of the mountain. Then when I saw the hot spring I couldn’t resist soaking in it.”
“I could take you up to the roof of the building so you could see the view, and after that we could go lie in the hot spring for a while if you want to. The water is wonderfully relaxing. It’ll soothe away any aches and pains you have,” said Nevis.
“That sounds great, thank you.”
Nevis turned and led her to the stairway she’d used before. It continued up one more flight, with a door at the top. Nevis pushed the door and they emerged out onto the roof. They were in a sort of garden, with raised flowerbeds filled with flowering shrubs. Andorra had no idea what their names were, but the ones in bloom looked very pretty indeed. They walked on a path which wandered between the flowerbeds and when they passed sweet-smelling lavender even Andorra, with a minimal understanding of horticulture, recognized it and breathed the delightful scent deep into her lungs.
The garden only occupied one corner of the roof, Andorra realized, as she followed Nevis out from that area onto a bare roof. A huge helicopter sat on a square pad on the other side of the roof and Andorra stopped dead when she saw it.
“What?” asked Nevis.
“I’ve never seen a helicopter before. I mean, I’ve seen them on television of course, but not…” She waved her hand at the huge machine, at a loss for the words to say.
Nevis smiled. “Not up close and personal?” she suggested.
Andorra smiled back at her. “It’s so big. I had no idea they were huge like this.”
“Helicopters are like trucks. They come in various sizes. This one is a bit larger because it has to fit quite a lot of cargo in it. We have to bring in most of the things we need to feed and maintain the community here. And now Master Kingston lives here instead of in the city. That means more of the managers coming back here when they need to talk to him.”