She pursed her lips at him. “We both know you don’t mean that.”

“Only because selling my soul wouldn’t work. Not even the devil would dare cross swords with you. If he tried to drag you home to me, he’d end up on your St. Andrew’s Cross.”

“I’d make him like it, too.”

“I’m certain you would.”

“We’re talking about Kingsley, aren’t we?” Nora asked.

“Who else?”

Nora reached for the doorknob intending to leave, but she stopped first.

“You have a session with Simone.”

“Yes, soon.”

“You see her often?” Nora asked.

“Once a week. She’s a wonderful masochist. Discreet. Kind. High pain tolerance. She asks for no more than I’m comfortable giving her.” She didn’t expect sex, in other words.

“Are you ever going to have sex with her?” Nora asked.

“Would it displease you if I did?”

“Considering I’ve been with other people since I’ve come back...it wouldn’t be fair of me to begrudge you for...you know...”

“Exploiting my newfound freedom to its fullest?” He raised his eyebrow.

“That.”

“I have no intention of breaking my vows with anyone but you, Eleanor. I can’t promise I won’t fail in this. I’ve failed before, as you know.”

“Kingsley doesn’t count.”

“Kingsley counts most of all.” He said the words in such a way she could have sworn she heard an ominous rumble of thunder in the distance.

“I know. I know he does. You know what I mean. He’s one of your three nonnegotiables, right?”

“Even when I want to string him up by his testicles, yes.”

“It might be good for you if you did see someone else. Might calm those testicle-stringing-up urges a little.”

“You don’t want me waiting for you to come back to me, do you?”

“If you do, you’ll be waiting a very long time.”

“I can wait.”

“Out of love for me, or because you’re punishing me?”

“I’m not punishing you,” Søren said.

“You sure about that?”

Søren smiled and it was a sort of smile she hadn’t seen from him before, a smile that scared her.

“Trust me, Little One, when I decide to punish you, you’ll know it.”

Nora swallowed hard but kept her composure.

“I’m leaving,” she said.

“You can stay and watch if you like. Simone will be here any minute.”

“I’ll leave you two alone,” she said, unlocking the door, wanting to run from him but determined instead to simply walk away. “Søren...”

“Yes?”

“I can’t come back to you, but I know what you need, and I know sometimes I’m the only person who can give it to you. So if you ever do need me, I will come to you.”

“You shouldn’t make such a promise, Little One.”

“Why not?”

“I always need you.”

Nora felt the words like a slap. She would have preferred the slap. Without another word she opened the door and stepped into the hall in time to see Simone walking toward her. A pretty girl in her midtwenties, Simone had rainbow-striped hair and a dozen or more piercings. She was also a PhD student in international relations. When Søren wasn’t beating her on his St. Andrew’s Cross, he was helping her with her doctoral thesis since he’d written two of his own. Kink made for strange bedfellows in their world. Even stranger friendships sometimes.

“Mistress?” Simone greeted her as she came to Søren’s dungeon door. Nora still had her hand on the doorknob behind her. “Something wrong?”

“No. Don’t worry, dear.” Nora put on a fake smile and kissed Simone quickly on the cheek. “Have fun. I warmed him up for you.”

She pulled out her keys and slipped into her own dungeon. The decorator was gone, the workmen were gone. She was alone at last in her beautiful brand-new dungeon. And it was beautiful. Everything she’d dreamed it would be. The front room looked as if it had been plucked out of the Moulin Rouge. Everything—the sheets, the pillows, the love seat, the rugs—red and gold and decadent. The dungeon itself was a beautiful nightmare—rows upon rows of crops hung on the wall in order of length, floggers were arrayed in order of weight and canes arranged by thickness. The medical bed for her medical fetishists sat in one corner. A St. Andrew’s Cross stood along the far wall. And right in the center was her throne. Perfect. She could live in this room. If she had as many clients as Kingsley warned her she would, she just might end up living here. But there was still a week to go before the Midsummer Night’s Fling and she hadn’t seen one client yet. Not even Kingsley, who’d promised to be her first. Then again, she hadn’t passed his stupid test yet. She should forget about passing it and just jump him one night and take him against his will. From what he’d told her about his first time with Søren, he’d probably enjoy it.

Nora stepped out of her dungeon and back into the bedroom.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw someone standing by the bed.

“Sorry,” he said. “The door was unlocked.”

“You scared the shit out of me.”

“I hope that wasn’t a literal statement,” he said.

“Figurative.”

“Whew.” He ran his hand over his brow.

“Thorny, right? That was your name?” she asked, recognizing him as the man on Milady’s cross at the Body House.

“That’s me.” He smiled and shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. He wore a T-shirt with the sleeves cut off. He had nice arms, sculpted biceps, but she imagined he’d gone sleeveless to show off his beautiful tattoos. She would have, too, if she had ink like that.

“Can I help you with something?” Nora asked.

“No, but I can help you with something.”

“I didn’t know I needed help.”

“You pissed off Milady. Trust me, you need help.”

Nora gave a slight rueful laugh. “Yes, I hear I’ve made a formidable enemy.”

“I know one of her slaves. She’s planning on fucking with you at the Midsummer Fling. I wanted to warn you about that. Not sure what she’s going to do, but I’m guessing it’ll be some kind of challenge.”

“Thank you. I appreciate the heads-up.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Can I ask why you’re telling me this? I mean, you and I barely know each other and, as you know, pissing Milady off is apparently not a good idea.”

“I like pain,” he said.

“Who doesn’t? But what does that have to do with anything?”

“I’m getting there. I like pain, but I hate whips. My father used to whip me with a switch. Feels a lot like a single-tail. Floggers are great. A good flogging is the greatest thing ever but whips are my hard limit.”

“She paid you to get over that.”

“I should have asked for more money. But you...you stood up for me when she was beating me. You stepped between me and a whip and not that many people would do that for a whore, no matter how cute I am.”

“You’re not a whore.”

“Yes, I am. It’s on my business cards. See?” Thorny pulled his wallet out of his pocket and passed her a business card covered in scrolling thorned vines.

Thorny, Whore for Hire.

“Wow. It really does say whore on your business cards. Look, Thorny, I don’t care that you’re an escort. I do care that she was beating someone who had safed out.”

“That’s why I’m here. I owe you.”

“Do you know what Milady’s planning?”

“If I had to guess I’d say she’ll probably do something to try to make you look weak in front of everybody.”

“Every domme’s nightmare.”

“Don’t freak out. Just do what they do in prison—find the biggest, baddest guy in the club and destroy him. You defeat the alpha and you become the alpha. That’s how it works.”

“Good advice, Thorny. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Mistress. Always good to get on a domme’s good side. Now if you’ll excuse me, my favorite client is waiting for me. She gives me wood.”

“Hot, is she?”

“Yes. But she’s also a lumber heiress. She’s bringing me some nice high-grade maple tonight. I’m making my own bed.”

“You’re weird, Thorny. I like that about you.”