One of the three men disappeared again into the other room. When he returned he wasn’t alone.

A blindfolded man was escorted into the play area and made to stand in front of the cross with his back to it. From her perch on high Nora could see him well. He had a trim and sinewy frame, tall but not too tall. She could see his ribs and his muscles when he inhaled. His arms were covered from shoulder to wrist in vibrant full-sleeve tattoos. Unfortunately he had on pants, black ones that hung low on his hips so she could see the little line of hair leading from his navel down, down, a trail she’d love to follow. Although his face was that of a young man—he looked no older than thirty—he had gray hair. Gray flecked with black, but mostly gray. Kingsley’s teenage assistant, Calliope, said such men were known as “silver foxes.” Nora had never wanted a pet fox before. Now she reconsidered.

“He’s pretty,” she said to Kingsley behind her fan. “Who is he?”

“You like him?” Kingsley asked.

“Who wouldn’t?”

“His name is Thorny.”

“I love his ink,” she said, eyeing his tattoos.

“You want him?” Kingsley asked.

“I might not say no if he offered,” she readily admitted. “If he’s a sub.”

“Oh, he’s a sub. For two thousand dollars.”

“He’s a pro-sub?”

Kingsley shook his head.

“Pro-dom?”

Kingsley shook his head again.

“Pro-switch?”

“He’s a pro...pro. And for two thousand dollars he’ll be almost anything you want him to be.”

Nora’s eyes widened.

“He’s a prostitute?” Nora asked. Kingsley nodded. “The Body House... Bawdy house... King, did you bring me to a brothel?”

Again he nodded.

With her mouth hidden by the fan she whispered a question to Kingsley.

“Why the hell did you bring me to a brothel? I’ve been arrested before, you know. I don’t want to get arrested again.”

She had nothing against sex workers, especially since she was training to be one herself. But kink for money was legal in New York. Sex for money wasn’t.

Kingsley took the leash and put it between her teeth again. Next time they went undercover he could wear the wig and play the sub, and she would stick a leather rope in his mouth.

Nora kept her eyes on the handsome silver fox below her. She wished he could see her. She’d like to look in his eyes and take her measure of him. Even with the blindfold on, she could see he was nervous. His chest panted with quick breaths. Perhaps he was excited? Or perhaps he was scared?

Scared of whom?

That was when Nora smelled the cherry blossoms. She inhaled deeply. Such a marvelous sweet scent. The scent of a new spring.

Nora turned and behind her stood a woman. And such a woman she was. Like French royalty she wore a gown of silver silk. Over the gown she wore a hooded pelisse. Under the hood was a face, girlish and fine, wearing little makeup apart from red lipstick. She looked so young, so painfully young and innocent. She smiled and Nora knew she was in the presence of a rather cold-blooded sadist.

“Kingsley Edge?” the young woman said. “Or am I mistaken?”

Her voice was entirely without an accent, which was an accent in itself. Despite her girlish look, she had a woman’s voice. And she did not smile or laugh. Nora had a feeling she’d never giggled in her life.

“At your service, Milady.” Kingsley held out his hand and she slipped hers into his palm. He turned her hand up and kissed the inside of her wrist.

“A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”

“The pleasure is all mine. I would introduce you to my submissive, but she isn’t allowed to speak.”

He inclined his head toward Nora, who gave a little curtsy behind her fan. It would all be so silly and ridiculous if it weren’t so deadly serious. This woman knew almost as many secrets as Kingsley did, but unlike Kingsley, she was willing to tell them to serve her own purposes.

“Does she have a name?” Milady asked. “Or has she not earned one yet?”

“It’s Nora,” Kingsley said, grasping the back of her neck lightly, a sign of claiming. “Nora Sutherlin. And I assure you, she has earned her name.”

Nora turned her head sharply toward Kingsley, who didn’t even meet her eyes. Oh, he was going to get it... As soon as they were alone she would tear him up and burn him like an old love letter from a cheating lover. He’d given her the same last name as her college boyfriend. She’d warned him that if he ever called her by the name Sutherlin again she’d slap him into the next century. No doubt that’s why he’d done it.

“Nora...lovely.” Milady didn’t glance at Nora but she kept her eyes trained on Kingsley. She looked him up and down, perusing him like a piece of merchandise that she might want to buy if the price was right. “Would you allow your submissive to assist me?”

“She’s new,” Kingsley said. “I’m not sure she could be of much help to you.”

“Oh, but she could. Don’t worry. I’ll keep her out of harm’s way.”

Kingsley seemed reluctant to let Nora go. “Of course. I only hope she behaves.”

“I’m sure she will.”

Nora wasn’t so sure.

Kingsley snapped his fingers and Nora obediently faced him. Since Milady watched her so closely she did her best to keep her eyes low and her attitude biddable. In the past, such a dutiful air would have been her natural state at a kink party. When around Søren she submitted because it was simply what one did in his presence. Now it felt like a costume she’d put on along with her cancan dress and mask.

Kingsley unhooked the leash from the collar and gave her a kiss on the lips, a convincing one. Even Nora was convinced that Kingsley considered her his passion and his property tonight. Then he gave her a swat on the cancan and said, “Go with Milady. Be a good girl and make me proud.”

She gave Kingsley a curtsy, too, and followed Milady down the stairs.

Everyone watched them as they entered the play area although Nora noted that most eyes were on Milady. From the arched doorway emerged one of her burly trio carrying a large white velvet bag in one hand and a small flat stool in the other. He set them both a few feet back from the blindfolded man.

“Nora,” Milady said, taking her by the wrist, “I want you to meet someone. This is Thorny, not his real name, of course.” The reason for the name was obvious, as Thorny’s tattoos on both of his arms were of vines covered in thorns. All vines. No roses. “I want you to stand behind the cross and keep an eye on Thorny. He’s not very fond of whips. If he passes out, you should let me know. What’s that English saying? No use beating a dead whore?”

“Horse,” Nora said, her jaw clenching.

“Ah, she speaks.”

“I do. And if he doesn’t like whipping, why are you whipping him?”

“Because I like whipping.” Milady’s tone suggested Nora had asked the stupidest question in the entire world.

“Shouldn’t you find someone who likes whips and whip him instead?”

“He’s being well compensated for his troubles.”

“Does he have a safe word?”

“I have a safe word. It’s roses. The whips are loud. If he says my safe word I might not hear him so you’ll have to find a way to let me know. It’s your responsibility to keep him safe. Do you accept that?”

“I guess I will since you don’t seem very interested in his safety.”

“I must say...you don’t behave like any submissive I’ve ever met.”

“I’m not like any submissive you’ve ever met,” Nora said, feeling a surge of protectiveness toward the man at the cross. Kingsley or Søren would never whip anyone who didn’t like being whipped. That was serious pain and if done incorrectly, it could leave open wounds and scars.

“No...no you aren’t,” Milady said, looking Nora up and down this time, studying her. “Let me tell you a little secret about myself. I have a particular kink. I enjoy paying men money to do things they wouldn’t ordinarily do. Like Thorny here—he hates whips with a passion. He told me it was a hard limit. I offered one thousand dollars to let me whip him. He said no. Two thousand? No. Four thousand? Yes. With enough money every hard limit becomes a soft limit. And everyone has a price. My kink is finding it. What’s your price, Nora?”