Maya Banks - Sweet Persuasion

“I plan to,” Damon murmured.

“Am I invited to the auction?” Micah asked in sudden mischief.

“Fuck off,” Damon said crudely. “You’d only outbid me and complicate the issue.”

Micah grinned. “A beautiful naked woman being sold can certainly add to a man’s insanity.”

Damon set his now-empty glass down on the desk and hesitated before finally deciding to say the next thing on his mind. It was forward, and it wasn’t usually his style to be so intrusive with friends. But that was just it. Micah was someone he counted as a friend.

“When are you going to quit living in the past, Micah?”

Micah turned sharp, angry eyes on him, and just like that, the mild, amused mood vanished. He transformed into someone dark and angry. Tormented. Damon regretted his impulse even as he recognized the need to prod Micah from his status quo.

“Maybe when you do?”

Damon shook his head. “I’m moving on. I’m taking Serena as my slave.”

“You’re fulfilling some hokey fantasy for a woman who wants to play at having a master to spank her ass a little and throw around some authority. You and I both know it ain’t real, and you pretending won’t change that.”

The words came out angry and clipped, but Damon didn’t take offense. He was probably the only person Micah had ever confided in about the events that had brought him to Houston to begin with—a fact that Micah was probably regretting about now.

“Let’s just drop it,” Micah said when Damon started to respond. “Before we both say things we’ll regret.”

“Consider it dropped,” Damon agreed.

“And for what it’s worth, I hope you find what you’re looking for,” Micah said.

“I’ve already stopped looking,” Damon said quietly. “It’s kind of hard to look for something you’ve stopped believing in.”

Serena read over the file of a prospective client with a frown of concentration as she assimilated all the information in her head. The fantasy was doable, and she loved the challenge of figuring out the details. She was already setting it up in her mind as she finished the last of the questionnaire.

The middle-aged gentleman wanted to be a whale for an evening. He wanted the guise of an ultra-wealthy player, someone sought after by the casinos and his every whim catered to. He wanted an expensive car, a gorgeous woman on his arm. Serena rolled her eyes a bit at that, but hey, arm candy was part of his fantasy and so she would do what she could.

Her mind was already racing. An appointment to have him appropriately attired. Expensive suit, all the necessary accoutrements to polish the façade. She could arrange for a limo to take him over to Lake Charles, Louisiana, where one of her casino contacts would meet him with all the panache afforded their regular gamblers.

She’d need to call and arrange it for a time when the casino wasn’t already accommodating their real high rollers. The money the client gambled would be his own and it would be his choice whether to spend it, but the glitz and bowing and scraping would be arranged by her.

It was a win-win situation for the casino because they could in reality gain a new regular, and, in turn, she would benefit by making her client very happy.

If only everyone could be this simple.

She was interrupted when Carrie buzzed the intercom.

“Serena, Mr. Roche is on line two for you.”

Her heart fluttered and slammed against her chest as she reached for the phone. Had he only just now gotten around to reading her e-mail? Would he have anything to say about the fact that she’d presented herself as the client? Oh, why hadn’t she just come out and been honest and straightforward from the beginning?

“Mr. Roche,” she said smoothly as she put the phone to her ear. She was proud of the fact that her voice didn’t come out in a croak.

“I thought we’d agree you’d call me Damon.”

His lazy drawl gave her a warm buzz, and she immediately relaxed. “All right . . . Damon. What can I do for you?”

“Well, I hope it’s what I can do for you. Are you free for lunch?”

She smiled and loosened her grip on the phone. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. He didn’t act any different now that he knew it was her looking for a man to make her his slave.

A cringe worked over her shoulders. She was really going to have to find a better descriptor for her fantasy.

“I’m intrigued,” she said. “I’m free. Now what is it you’re going to do for me?”

A light chuckle sounded in her ear. “Meet me for lunch, and I’ll tell you.”

“A man who teases,” she mused. “Okay, I’ll bite. Where would you like to meet?”

“I’ll send a car.”

“No,” she said after a moment’s thought. “Why don’t I pick you up this time? We’ll eat on my turf.”

There was a slight pause.

“Ahh, you’re a man used to getting his own way.”

“Always,” he said in a husky growl.

A shiver worked uncontrollably down her back, and her nipples puckered against the silk of her bra.

“I like to give a man his way in appropriate circumstances,” she said lightly. “I tell you what. You come pick me up and we’ll eat at my choice.”

“I’ll be there in half an hour,” he said silkily.

“I look forward to it.”

She was smiling as she replaced the receiver. She leaned back in her chair and flexed her toes under her desk. What the hell she was doing flirting with Damon Roche when he was lining up another man for her was beyond her, but the devil just took over when it came to the man.

Had he found someone already? Nervousness scuttled around her stomach and gave her a slightly nauseous feeling. Could she go to bed with a complete stranger? More than that, could she place her well-being, her trust, her entire self in his hands?

Maybe she hadn’t thought this through adequately.

A worried frown tugged at her lips, and she rubbed her face with her hands. It wasn’t too late to back out. She could meet Damon and tell him she’d changed her mind, right?

Of course you can, moron.

It wasn’t as if this was some make-or-break business deal. It was sex, and she could say no at any time.

Feeling better about her options, she slipped her shoes back on and stood. A quick trip to the bathroom would tell her if she had any major repairs to do on hair and makeup.

Twenty minutes later, she walked into the lobby and was glad she’d chosen dressier heels today. They directed attention to her legs, which she knew without false modesty had drawn a man’s stare more than a few times. Her skirt clipped the top of her knee, so she had plenty to show.

To her surprise, Damon was striding toward the door of the office complex. She smiled in greeting as he entered. He was dressed casually, as casual as a man could look in expensive slacks and polo shirt.

“You’re early,” she said as she checked her watch.

“I try to never keep a beautiful woman waiting,” he said with easy charm.

“Good philosophy. Are you ready then?”

He offered his arm but didn’t wait for her to take it. He reached with his other hand and enfolded her fingers in his firm grip before tucking it securely under his elbow.

They walked into the warm air, and she looked around for the Bentley. Instead, he guided her toward a sleek, black BMW parked in front of the entrance.

He opened her door and settled her inside before walking around to the driver’s side. As he slid in beside her, she glanced appreciatively at the interior.

“You drove yourself,” she said unnecessarily.

“It would appear so,” he said with an amused smile. “So, where are we going?”

“Cattleman’s. Do you know where it is?”

He grimaced. “Why beautiful women like you and Faith hang out in that place is beyond me.”

“It has character,” she said with a straight face. “But if you hate it, we can go somewhere else.”

He pulled into traffic and maneuvered down the busy street. “No, I agreed to go to the place of your choosing, so Cattleman’s it is.”

“You’re a snob,” she said smugly.

He cast her a surprised glance and then evidently saw she was teasing him.

“Not a snob. I just enjoy . . . let’s just say I enjoy the finer things.”

Serena nodded. “Nothing wrong with that, but I have to tell you, I’m a beer and onion ring type girl.”

“Barbarian,” he said in mock horror. “I have nothing against some greasy finger food and a good beer, but I don’t turn down a well-aged steak and a good glass of wine either.”

“Mmmm, steak. I love steak. I love meat. I’m a total carnivore. Cattleman’s has great steaks.”

“I’ll be amazed if you don’t order a girly salad. What is it with women always ordering salads, anyway?”

She pretended to consider. “Well, I’ll order a salad if it has steak in it.”

He laughed. “Then I guess we’ll have steak for lunch.”

They drove into the parking lot, and when Serena reached to open the door, Damon stopped her with a hand to her arm.

“Let me,” he said.

He got out and walked around to open her door. Then he extended his hand down to her. Tiny little sparks shot up her arm when she slid her fingers across his palm. He pulled gently, and she stepped out to stand beside him.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

Again, he tucked her hand under his arm and walked her toward the entrance. When they walked inside, the hostess greeted them, and Damon leaned in to murmur quietly to the young woman. She smiled immediately and nodded. Then she motioned for him and Serena to follow her.