Chapter One

He’d been watching her from an obscure corner of the cafe all night, obscure because that was the aura that Miles intended to convey when he was in a contemplative vein. Everything surrounding him took on a similar mysterious aspect. Looking at her dancing in the soft lights, smiling like sunshine, almost giddy with laughter, produced by the wine flowing through her veins, he was deep in his thoughts of having her. And he would have her, there was no doubt of that.

Perhaps, only he could see beneath the exuberant surface of her behavior to the darker woman residing there, the one that craved the control he could furnish. He was used to such women, but this one in particular was extraordinarily fascinating. He could devise a life for her that would be like no other. He could provide the wicked venue in which this Miss Tessa Cotille could safely play. There was no greater satisfaction for him than to possess such a creature.

He watched as she gyrated her hips, the soft swell of her belly undulating against the thighs of the man in front of her. Her bottom danced on the air, pert and fully round. It would take punishment well, he thought. She was naked underneath the short red dress with the cutouts at the sleeves. He knew that by the way her nipples pushed against the red fabric, and the way one or two strands of pubic hair poked through the knit.

Ah the nipples! Exquisite jewels! He imagined them lovingly adorned with gold ornaments pierced through the flesh.

It took only moments to know that she was the one, and just seconds to have his plan firmly laid.

Two weeks later she was in his house, his guest. The party was lush, and the guests were lewdly dressed. He was glad she’d chosen to wear leather. Her hips molded the soft cloth of the skirt and her breasts, pushed together by the bustier, jiggled, threatening to spill out over the top.

He imagined her the centerpiece of a much different party; though it would take some time to nurture their relationship before he could have her that completely.

He’d begin this night.

“Miss Cotille, I’m glad you could join me,” Miles Bryce said, as he strolled to her side. “You dance well.”

“Thank you, Mr. Bryce,” she said, her sultry eyes staring directly into his. “And I like your party.”

“Why’s that?” he inquired. He liked her fresh, innocent nature.

She danced around her words for a moment, her face flushed with expressive warmth. “Freedom, Mr. Bryce, freedom. I don’t allow myself to be so brash many places. In your home it feels perfectly comfortable.”

“I’m glad that pleases you, my dear, please call me Miles.”

“Miles,” she nodded. He was an older man, by at least ten years, though he didn’t seem to care about the difference, so why should she? He was astonishingly direct in his manner, and she liked that. She liked men who took charge of things around them, who manipulated their environment in the ways that pleased them. So few were really adept at the art. In fact, only one man that she could remember had held her captive the way she liked. Unfortunately, he was not devoted to her. He was devoted only to his own sensual pleasure; the women he dominated were only a passing fancy in his heart. She soon passed from his fancy, d