Michaels, Skye - Calleigh's Collar [Le Club 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) (2 page)

“Oh come on, Calleigh, give me some details! Everyone in the neighborhood wonders what goes on in there.”

“Bullshit, my best friend! Ever heard of ‘undisclosed penalty provisions’? If I say one word about that place, I will be in deep trouble. I don’t even know how deep, since the agreement states the penalty provisions are at the sole discretion of the Party of the First Part, whoever or whatever that might be,” Calleigh replied.

That provision of the confidentiality agreement had made her uncomfortable at the time, but the deal was so good, and having used up all her ‘reasonables,’ she had let the penalty provisions slide during contract negotiations. As Jason had said at the time, “It’s only a problem if you don’t intend to abide by the agreement. It should not be an issue.”

As they kept pace in front of the estate, a long, black Lincoln limousine with blacked-out widows pulled up to the gates. The driver’s window rolled down, and the driver entered all but the last number of a security code on the keypad. “Ladies, can I help you?” he asked with a frown as he hesitated to enter the last number.

“Uh, no problem,” Paula chirped as they jogged off, and the gates slowly opened. “Rats! Almost got a look inside.”

Chapter Two

Calleigh, a Southern girl from an old Jacksonville family, was a graduate of the University of Florida. After doing her apprenticeship with a Gainesville architectural firm, she opened her own firm in Ocala because she loved the small-town feel, the warm, friendly atmosphere, the intense greenness, the wide-open spaces, and the beautiful horse farms of central Florida. Also, as a U of F graduate, she had numerous friends from school in the area, not least of whom was her best friend and college roommate, Paula. Although they had been best friends and roommates for years, their personalities could not have been more different. Calleigh was bright and driven with respect to her career, but she had a gentle sweetness to her nature. Paula, on the other hand, was quirky, stubborn, and determined to succeed at almost any cost.

“I don’t know if we jogged far enough to work off this double latte blah blah blah grande whatever, but I do not care,” Calleigh stated as they collapsed in comfy, overstuffed chairs in the downtown Starbucks. The popular coffee café on the town square was crowded with Saturday-morning regulars.

“I am really disappointed that I didn’t get a look inside that place. Limos coming and going at all hours, strange screams…” Paula shuddered, as if a delicious frisson of fear ran down her still-perspiring spine.

“Oh for Heaven’s sake, Paula, those are peacocks, not babies being murdered! They do make an ungodly racket, though. That’s how ridiculous rumors get started.”

“They wouldn’t be rumors if you just told me…”

“No! Read my lips!”

“Oh come on. Tell me just one little thing,” Paula wheedled. An inveterate gossip and the editor of the local
Ocala Country Life
magazine, Paula Greenley was in the know about all the local hotshots, hot spots, and all the local goings-on. It was the supreme annoyance not to have the scoop on the Laurel Oak Estate. “How about some info on that gorgeous hunk, Jason Steele? You worked with him on the design plans, right?”

“You never give up. You are as much of a nudge now as you were when we were at U of F. Yes, Jason starred in many a fantasy over the eight months or so we were working on the plans and specs. Wow, what a hunk. I did everything but stand on my head to get him to ask me out, but no go. Hey! Standing on my head may have worked! Shoulda tried it! But really, he may have been involved with someone, because I was definitely getting the ‘zing.’ I don’t know what the problem was, but I tried my best. I guess you could say I really had a major ‘crush’ on him.”

“Come on! Just tell me one thing.”

“Okay. One thing.” Calleigh smirked. “Buy low, sell high.”

“Very funny, missy! Now give,” Paula said with a grin. She looked even more determined to get the scoop.

Calleigh knew that Paula would never give up. She was like a dog with a bone! A small, determined dog with a very big bone.
Maybe if I give her just a little information she’ll let up
.
Besides, that’s all I have, just a little information
. She and Paula had lived together long enough for Calleigh to know the futility of continued resistance.

“Oh, all right! Jeez! The project was a renovation of an enormous, three-story Victorian house into what I guess is a men’s club or something. I drew the plans, but I never saw the furnishings and fixtures or the finished project. There are five large bedroom suites, a library, a commercial kitchen, offices, and a lot of other rooms, a pool and cabana area, and a separate building they called a playroom. I’d love to see the finished project, but as you know, no one gets in there.”

“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to tell me?” Paula complained. If curiosity killed the cat, Paula had used up at least a couple of lives.

“That’s all I’m going to tell you. I really don’t know anything more myself.” Calleigh hoped that small amount of information would stop Paula’s constant nagging.
I really have to be careful here. This is technically a breach of the confidentiality agreement, and I have a professional obligation to abide by the terms of the agreement. I’m sure Jason would not take this lightly, and I would really hate to disappoint him
.

* * * *

Trent Redding sipped his coffee behind the Saturday edition of
The Ocala Star
and listened to the club’s architect break her confidentiality agreement.
Hmmmm, very interesting! Steele is going to love this! Little Miss Architect is finally about to fall into his hands. And she’s not as immune to him as he thought. What an idiot.

Chapter Three

“That’s all I heard, Steele. No more details, just that she thinks this is a ‘men’s club.’ She was talking to Paula Greenley, the editor of
Ocala Country Life
, you know, the local who’s-who and see-and-be-seen glossy rag,” Trent Redding, one of the ten owners of Le Club Laurel Oak, told his partner, Jason Steele. “Oh, by the way, she thinks you’re a hunk and wondered why you never asked her out.” He chuckled. “Said she’d be willing to stand on her head…”

Le Club Laurel Oak–Ocala, although not just for men, was a
very
private BDSM club catering to just ten members, two of whom were currently having a drink in the library of the three-story Victorian this Saturday afternoon. Although the property was held in a limited-liability partnership, Jason Steele, an attorney, had been the front man putting the project together, and he had worked closely with Calleigh Roundtree, the project architect. Although there had been definite sparks between the two during the prolonged drafting of the plans and specs, Jason had been cautious in carrying the relationship forward, the privacy of the club being his main concern. He just was not sure if Ms. Roundtree would be into spanking and kinky sex.

“Yeah, well…I walked around with a hard-on the whole time we were working together. It’s damn difficult to concentrate on electrical wiring, outlets, and water lines when the architect has a gorgeous J.Lo ass,” he groused. “So, what part of ‘confidential’ doesn’t she understand?” Steele frowned, one slashing, dark eyebrow raised over smoky gray eyes. Jason was six two, with dark hair just beginning to gray at the temples, and many women had told him they liked his one quirky dimple, his killer body, and his broad shoulders tapering into long, powerful legs. “She wants to see the finished project, does she? That can be arranged. I wonder how she would like being a submissive.”

“Just be careful, Steele. We don’t know the lady’s personal preferences,” Trent returned.

“Oh, I’ll explain her ‘position’ to her very carefully, and I won’t forget to get the release and another confidentiality agreement signed,” Steele replied with a cocky grin. “Little Miss Roundtree’s gorgeous ass is mine.” He had been waiting for an opportunity to further his relationship with Calleigh to present itself, and now that it had, he wasn’t going to waste it.

Jason Steele had grown up the son of a successful thoroughbred breeder on a farm in Ocala, gone to college at Harvard, and graduated
magna cum laude.
He earned a law degree from Harvard Law School, during which time he also edited the Law Review. The following years spent in Boston as an associate at a major national law firm had put a hard gloss on the Southern boy he had been. While his family had given him the best start possible and a fabulous education, he had made the most of it himself. He returned to Ocala to open his own firm. His very successful corporate- and business-law practice had given him the ability to move in the highest echelons of local society and business with the possibility of a political career in the future.

Jason and Trent Redding had met in college and remained close friends while Trent completed medical school at Harvard, as well as his surgical residency at the Brigham and Women’s Hospital. He had also come home to central Florida to open a medical practice in Gainesville, which was now thriving, and to teach at the University of Florida. He was one of the top heart surgeons in the state, if not the entire southeast.

When the run-down Laurel Oak Estate had come on the market, Jason and Trent had put together a consortium of like-minded BDSM aficionados of the Lifestyle to purchase the estate and renovate the house and grounds for Le Club Laurel Oak–Ocala. It had been a pipe dream of theirs since they had been introduced to the Lifestyle by a college friend from New Orleans whose father was a founding member of Le Club Beaudelair–New Orleans, located in the French Quarter. Neither of them had ever been into the kinkier aspects of the Lifestyle but found BDSM added a spice missing from more vanilla sexual experiences.

The property was perfect for a club patterned after and loosely affiliated with the New Orleans facility, as it was just at the edge of the historic Ocala residential and business district and required no complicated rezoning or permitting for their intended usage.

“What are you plotting, Jason? I’ve seen that look before.”

“A weekend with Miss Roundtree is all,” Steele answered innocently. A weekend with Calleigh sounded good, very good. He hadn’t realized just how much he missed her since she had finished the architectural work. The thought of seeing her again and being close to that sumptuous derriere of hers had sent a jolt like an electric charge through him. Suddenly, he found himself in very good spirits. He thought of the collar he had bought.
Maybe I’ll be able to put it to good use after all
. The picture in his mind’s eye of her standing on her head made him chuckle. Trent just shook his head.

Chapter Four

“Mr. Steele would like you to meet him for lunch at the Laurel Oak Estate. He will have a car pick you up at your office at 11:45 on Friday. Would that be convenient?” Steele’s secretary asked.

“That would be fine.” Calleigh had an uneasy feeling about this, although she could not help feeling a little thrill of anticipation. In all the months since the project had been completed, she had not heard from Jason Steele and certainly had not been invited for lunch at the Estate.
What’s up
?

The perennial question was what to wear. Something sensuous but not overtly sexual. She didn’t want him to get the wrong idea—or did she? Well, she had a few days to figure it out.
Wait until Paula hears about this!

On Friday morning, dressed in a casually elegant sundress the same color as her sky-blue eyes with spiky Manolo sandals, Calleigh paced her office at C.R. Roundtree & Associates, Architects, restlessly. While working with Steele on the project, she had often wondered if the wild attraction she felt was one-sided, or if he felt it as well. Calleigh had given Jason as much encouragement as she could without coming right out and asking him for a date, but he had never acted on her subtly dropped hints. Of course, she had no alternative but to act in a professional manner—but the man was
hot.
Jason Steele was a well-known attorney, one of Ocala’s “Most Eligible Bachelors,” and extremely smart, sexy, and charming.

The chauffeured Lincoln Town Car picked her up promptly at 11:45 and proceeded to the area just south of downtown Ocala known as the Historic District, which was comprised of street after street of Victorian homes, many of which had been converted to inns and offices. As they pulled up to the electronic security gate and the chauffeur entered the code, Calleigh had a fluttering feeling in the pit of her belly.
Here goes nothing! Wow!
The enormous, white Victorian house decorated with copious amounts of gingerbread trim was gorgeous, just as she had imagined it would look, with a beautiful English garden in full bloom. The hundred-year-old laurel oak and live oak trees draped in Spanish moss that gave the Estate its name seemed to hold the house in their protective embrace. She felt a glow of pride looking at the culmination of her vision and hard work. The chauffeur opened the door and escorted her to the front entry, where Steele was waiting to greet her.