The Initiation of Ms Holly (Xcite Erotic Romance Novels) (7 page)

Rita returned her attention to her laptop, feigning non-interest. ‘I get a text occasionally.’

‘Come on, Ree. I don’t believe you for a second. You’re walking around like you’ve been riding a big one all night. You only walk like that for one reason, and it’s a good one.’

Actually there were two reasons, Rita thought, and the second wasn’t so good. Almost as a reminder, the metal plate pinched her sharply on the fanny, and she gritted her teeth. Just then her phone signalled a text, and Kate, who was deliciously free of the constraints of a chastity belt, grabbed it before Rita could.

‘Mmmm, yummy. Very sexy.’

‘Give me that.’ Enduring another hard pinch, Rita grabbed the phone away and read.

Less than 3 daz & I cn hardly bear it. I no how uncomfortable u must b. M damned uncomfortable myself evry time I think of u. Evry 2
^nd
is agony. Hope u r not 2 sore. Promise I’ll make it worth every ache. EXX

Rita could feel the blush crawling up her cheek and the muscles tensing deep in her cunt. But damn, his timing couldn’t be worse.

Her friend tapped her foot on the carpeted floor and glared at her. ‘So why have you been holding out on me? Do I ever keep my love life from you? Granted there isn’t much to tell, but when there is, don’t I tell all?’

Rita tried to heave a sigh, but as with most efforts to breathe these days, it was rather unsatisfying. ‘Look, Kate, I would share all if I could, but Edward’s a very secretive person, and I’d feel like I was betraying his trust if I told. Surely you can understand.’

‘Married, is he?’

‘No! No he’s not married.’ At least she hoped he wasn’t, but she really didn’t know, did she? ‘He just feels like what goes on between two people should stay between two people.’

‘You sure he’s not married?’

‘Of course I’m sure,’ she lied. The more she thought of the goings-on between him and Vivienne, the more the doubt niggled her.

When Kate went back to the kitchen for biscuits, she quickly texted.

R U married 2 Vivienne?

The reply came back almost instantly.

God no! Y wuld U thnk that?

U 2 cm close.

Bleev me, we r not.

Sorry. Evrythng so strange.

No need 2 dout me, Darling. I promise.

Perhaps there wasn’t. But she was the one wearing the chastity belt, and Edward was the one wearing the mask.

Kate returned with biscuits and settled in her traditional position cross-legged on the sofa. She stuffed a Jaffa Cake in her mouth and spoke around it. ‘Since you won’t tell me anything, I’ve been doing my own research on The Mount, and you’d be amazed at what I’ve found.’

Rita burned her tongue on her coffee. ‘Oh? Like what?’

Just then Rita’s mobile rang and both women nearly jumped off their seats. Rita hoped it would be Edward, but it was her boss. Why the hell was he calling on a Saturday afternoon?

‘Rita, darling, you’re an angel,’ came Owen’s breathless voice on the phone. ‘I don’t know how you did it, and even a limo to take us there. I have to say, I had my doubts, but you came through for me. You really did.’

‘Owen?’

The man was on a roll. ‘When you said you could get reservations at The Mount, I should have believed you, though how you did it so quickly’s beyond me, and for the two of us.’ He chuckled suggestively.

‘I’m just calling to double check. The limo will pick you up first, then me at eight. Is that right? Ressies for eight thirty, drinks and dinner, maybe a little tripping the light fantastic?’

Rita suddenly felt nauseated. Was this a part of her initiation? Did Vivienne know her plan to write an exposé? Who else could have pulled this off? It didn’t matter who had done it, she had no choice. She hung up and made her excuses to Kate. She’d have to pick her friend’s brain for new information concerning The Mount some other time.

‘S
HE LOOKS GOOD IN
that colour, don’t you think? Rose makes her skin look like she’s had a little sun.’ Vivienne chuckled wickedly. ‘And oh, the cleavage. I can see why she’s so willing to display it, and he’s certainly more than willing to look.

‘They look good together, don’t they? Her boss is positively edible. He is her boss, you know? Lorelei heard him mention expensing the evening.’ She and Edward stood on the shadowy rise of the wrought-iron catwalk, nearly invisible to everyone below, but interested only in their initiate and her date.

When Edward made no response, Vivienne added. ‘Journalists?
Talkabout
magazine?’

‘So?’

‘So? Why do you think a budding journalist would bring her boss here? She smells an exposé, surely you can see that, Edward?’

‘If she wanted an exposé, her boss would be the last person she’d bring here, besides, Rita wouldn’t do that.’ Edward tugged uncomfortably on the front of his jacket feeling a strange mix of desire and jealousy at seeing Rita here in his domain with someone he hadn’t approved. And the dress, my God, all he could think about was ripping it off of her and devouring her inch by inch, a thought he couldn’t afford to be having. ‘What I’m wondering is how she managed reservations in the first place.’

Vivienne brushed an invisible speck from his cuff and smoothed his hair, which didn’t need smoothing. ‘She’s a journalist. And if she’s a good one, she’ll find a way. I’m sure Aurora would find her a table if it would get her pussy licked again. You know what a slut Rory is, and our dear Rita certainly gives Alex quite a hard-on.’

‘Neither of them could get her reservations even if they wanted to, Vivienne. You know that.’

The woman shrugged as though the whole situation bored her and looked out over the restaurant below. ‘Where there’s a will, there’s a way, and getting the story of a lifetime is definitely high motivation for a starving journalist, wouldn’t you say?’

Edward looked down to where the two sat, heads together in deep conversation, and his stomach clenched. ‘Rita wouldn’t do that,’ he repeated. ‘Rita would never do that.’

Vivienne offered a throaty chuckle. ‘My poor Edward. You’re so naïve. So trusting. I’d have thought you’d have learned by now.’

‘That’s right, I am trusting. I trust her completely.’ Still, why the hell did she have to look so hot for the man? Why did she bring him at all? None of it made any sense. He white-knuckled the rail as he watched Rita’s boss possessively push aside a lock of her hair, silky hair that he knew smelled vaguely of coconut. Was she trying to torture him because he couldn’t have her just yet, because he was being forced to wait? God, if she only knew how difficult all this was for him.

Vivienne leaned in close and kissed Edward’s earlobe. ‘She’ll betray us before the month is out. Surely you can see this. She’s only using you, using all of us to get a story.’

Edward jerked away. ‘That’s not true. She wouldn’t.’

She leaned in again and bit his ear, playfully. ‘Want a bet?’

This time he pushed her away and stepped back, his eyes still locked on the couple below. ‘What bet? What are you talking about?’

‘You know, a wager. Don’t act so innocent, Edward, darling. You know all about wagers, don’t you?’

He froze, his heart pounding in his chest. How dare she bring up such a thing here and now? But she continued as though she were merely discussing the weather.

‘I’ll wager that before her initiation is over,
Talkabout
magazine will run a front-page exposé on The Mount. I can see the headlines now.’ She lifted a hand in front of them as though she were placing the headline on a bill board. ‘Restaurant and Dance Club exposed as Secret Sex Cult.’ She giggled. ‘I like that, don’t you? Secret sex cult. It has a nice ring to it.’

‘That’s not going to happen.’

She held his gaze, the humour gone from her eyes. ‘Want to bet? I’ll give you a chance to win back what you’ve lost.’

Suddenly it was difficult to breathe, more difficult than it had been watching the woman he wanted to be with making nicey-nice with another man. It was true, he trusted Rita completely. He didn’t know why. He barely knew her, and yet there had been that moment on the train in the dark, before he ever saw her face, before he ever knew how outrageous she was, how well she could play the game. He just knew. He swallowed hard. ‘All right. I’ll bet you. I’ll bet that not only will Rita Holly not betray us, but I’ll bet she wins the respect of every member of The Mount and passes the initiation with flying colours. That’s what I’ll bet.’

The humour returned to her eyes. She held his gaze with that half-smile look she often gave him when she was scheming something. ‘That’s all very nice, darling, but remember, you have nothing to wager.’ The smile slipped from her lips, and she studied him. In spite of the music and laughter and the tinkling of cutlery and crystal from below, suddenly everything seemed bathed in cottony silence, and all he could hear was the hammering of his heart in his ears. Then, after what seemed forever came the response he would have never expected. ‘All right, Edward. I’ll spot you on this one. I’ve been rather generous with the terms of the last bet you lost. But this time, if you lose, I promise I’ll find new and exciting ways to make you pay.’

‘There’s something to be said for expensive wine. Go on, try it.’ Owen drank deeply. But Rita barely touched hers. She couldn’t afford to lose her wits to the wine when she suspected Vivienne of treachery.

‘You look tired, Rita.’ He studied her for a long moment over the top of his wine glass, then he heaved a sigh like he’d just solved a daunting problem. ‘I’m concerned that this story might be too much for you, I mean you really do look tired, no offence, Rita, but wow!’ He sat his glass down and leaned over the table toward her offering her his best concerned-boss face, then he continued very softly. ‘No one would argue that you’re an excellent journalist, but you’re new, and let’s face it, honey, you’re way out of your league here. You might want to consider letting me help you with this one.’

She forced a smile around her gritted teeth. ‘Thanks, Owen. But I can handle it just fine.’

He lifted his hands in a back-off gesture. ‘Just a thought. Keep it in mind in case the burden gets too heavy. You know I’m always here for you.’ Before she could respond, he changed the subject. ‘The woman with all the sapphires, do you know her?’

‘Lorelei? I’ve been introduced. Yes’

‘She really fancies me.’

Rita nearly choked on her water.

He gave a self-satisfied chuckle. ‘She is a bit cheeky, though, don’t you think? I mean the complimentary bottle of vino, the lovely show of cleavage, and me here with another woman. I hope you weren’t too upset. Is she seeing anyone?’

Rita mentally rolled her eyes. ‘It didn’t come up in the conversation.’

‘When she said dinner and drinks are on the house. What do you think she meant by that?’

Rita tried to heave a sigh and felt the pinch. ‘I think she meant you won’t have to expense the evening.’ She thought it was very decent of Vivienne not to make
Talkabout
pay for her vicious little scheme.

But Owen wasn’t listening. ‘Surely she’s more than just a hostess, dressed like that. She is, isn’t she? She’s somebody. I’m sure I’ve seen her before, maybe at L’Escargot. Yes I’m sure I must have. I think she might have recognised me too. Maybe that’s why the special treatment.’

‘Afraid you’ll just have to ask her.’ Rita said. She watched Owen mentally inventory the room for who could do him the most good. And at the moment, most of the people who were anybody were on the dance floor.

He drained his wine glass and stood. ‘We should dance,’ he took her hand and practically dragged her from the booth. Fortunately the music covered her little grunt of pain, and with him eyeing the who’s who on the dance floor, he didn’t notice how stiffly she moved to get up. ‘You do dance, don’t you, Rita?’

He didn’t wait for an answer. He half led, half pulled her onto the dance floor, where he promptly stepped on her foot twice as they attempted a simple fox trot. Keeping the beat seemed to be a foreign concept to him. The new discomfort growing in the pit of Rita’s stomach had nothing to do with the chastity belt. If Owen couldn’t dance – and it was eminently clear that he couldn’t – no way in hell would he be dragged onto the dance floor in a place as important to him as The Mount.

Alarm bells jangled in Rita’s head as Owen stumbled against her and grabbed at her for support. He hadn’t drunk enough wine to cause coordination problems, and it was well known that the man could hold his alcohol. He stepped on her foot again and bumped into her. ‘Owen? Are you all right?’

‘Never better.’ He laughed too loud and several couples glanced in their direction as he pulled her so close that what little breath she did have was forced from her lungs. ‘God, you smell good, Rita, ‘I’m not talkin’ ’bout your perfume.’ He chuckled suggestively against her ear, and one hand slid down to grope her arse, pulling her close enough so that there was no ignoring the enormous hard-on straining against his expensively clothed crotch. ‘I can smell when a woman wants it, ’n honey, I’m surprised you didn’t rip my clothes off ’n ride me in the limo.’

His slurred speech and sudden lack of inhibitions alarmed her even further. A quick look around assured her everyone was pretending not to notice. ‘Owen,’ she whispered urgently. ‘I don’t know what’s going on, but this isn’t appropriate.’ He swung her around awkwardly and groped her breast, then made a frightening attempt at a dip.

It was then, in her peripheral vision, she saw movement on the catwalk, a man and a woman, but before she could get a better look, Owen jerked her back to him and shoved his tongue halfway down her throat. ‘My God, Rita,’ he grunted as he came up for air, oblivious to her efforts to push him away. ‘This place makes me so horny. No wonder you come here. Musbe somethin’ in the air.’ He shoved her toward the edge of the dance floor, practically dry-humping her with every step.

‘What’s that idiot doing?’ Edward leaned over the rail so far that Vivienne grabbed the tail of his jacket and pulled him back.

She chuckled softly. ‘It’s called dancing, Edward. Some people are better at it than others.’

‘That’s not dancing. Can’t you see he’s hurting her?’

‘Hurting her? Oh, you mean the chastity belt?’

He pushed her hand away. ‘I can see it, even if you can’t. Look at the way she moves, the way she winces.’

‘Poor empathetic Edward. I’m so sorry you feel her pain.’

‘You could have at least let her wear something underneath.’

‘She’s an initiate, Edward. Initiates don’t get silk knickers with their chastity belts.’

He leaned over the rail, alarm rising in his chest. ‘What the hell is going on? He’s practically attacking her.’

‘Oh don’t worry. It’s just a little fun, that’s all.’

He felt ice in his stomach as the man stumbled and groped, then roared with laughter. ‘This is your scheming, isn’t it? You got the reservation. He’s here because of you isn’t he? Dear God, Vivienne, please tell me you didn’t give him something.’

She shrugged and smoothed the front of her dress, suddenly very interested in the beading. ‘Not me.
I
didn’t.’

‘Owen Frank is way too concerned about impressions to grope his employee on the dance floor of The Mount. Now what the fuck is going on?’ He pulled his mobile from his pocket and texted rapidly.

‘Oh come on, darling. It’s just a little fun.’

‘At the expense of Rita’s initiation? At the expense of a man’s dignity?’

‘What would you know about dignity,’ she pouted.

He texted.

Alex, get Rita out of there. Now! My suite.

Rory, take care of Owen Frank. He’s drugged.

Then he turned and fled, ignoring Vivienne, who called after him. No doubt she’d make him pay for that offence later.

‘Owen, what the hell are you doing? Stop it!’ Rita had managed to manoeuvre him back to the booth, but once there, he was practically on top of her. It was becoming more and more difficult to avoid the groping that might give away her secret. She squirmed and twisted to regain control and keep from making a spectacle, ignoring the pinch and squeeze of the belt which bordered on full-blown pain. Something was definitely wrong. Owen might be a twat, but he would never attack her like some horny baboon. She shoved him aside long enough to grab a water glass. ‘Here, drink this, and breathe deeply.’

He knocked the water out of her hand and spilled it down the front of her dress, which drew his attention immediately to her chilled nipples. She had only just redirected his attempt to grab her tit when his other hand found its way up the inside of her thigh. ‘Owen, stop it!’ Alarm spiked in her chest. If this was Vivienne’s doing, there would be no help for her. She was on her own.

The more she tried to disentangle herself, the more the belt pinched. Owen was frighteningly strong. She was about to take drastic measures and bash him with the wine bottle, when Alex appeared out of nowhere and pulled her away with such force that it took her breath. ‘So sorry, but, Ms Holly, you have an urgent phone call. If you would follow me.’

Almost before she was out of the way, Aurora, clothed in a sexy black mini-dress, stepped in and pulled Owen from the booth. ‘You’re Owen Frank, aren’t you?’ Her voice sounded breathy, girlish. ‘I’ve heard so much about you, and I love
Talkabout
magazine. I’ve been dying to meet you.’ She rubbed up against him. ‘I’m such a fan.’ She offered him a coy pout, which accentuated her full bottom lip. ‘I know someplace where we can talk, privately, that is if you’re interested.’ She offered her hand, and he followed without protest, barely aware that his date was being escorted away by one of the dancers.