Master

Evernight
Publishing

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2013 Raven
McAllan

 
ISBN:
978-1-77130-431-3

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor: Marie Medina

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this
copyrighted work is illegal.
 
No part of
this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written
permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are
fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

To
Doris
, for her support, nagging, and
rediting
,
and Michaela for her virtual wine and coffee.

To Jayne
Yatchak
, Carla Lopez, and Ekaterina
Sayanova
for their invaluable help.
 

To Marie
and  
Evernight
Publishing. Without you all, this story
wouldn't be here.

And of course, to Paul, love you.

Thank you all

MASTER

Dommissimma
, 1

Raven
McAllan

Copyright
© 2013

PART ONE

Flashback

Chapter One

Cade
wandered the house, room to
room, the letter in his hand.
One word, one
fucking
word.
A
simple and stark 'no'.
Why?

 
She'd seemed happy …
okay, he allowed, maybe not exactly happy, but fine with things. Accepting some
things and asking a lot of questions about others. However, that was always a
good thing, yes?

 
Not, in this case no.
A big
sodding
on your bike, mate, take a hike
no
.

Nothing of her remained. Well yes, he allowed, everything
he'd bought was still there.
But her?
Her essence, herself?
That was one big bloody no. Not even a
hint of her perfume in the drawers or wardrobe. It was as if she'd never been
there.

He ran his fingers over the top of the dressing table. No
dust, but then there wasn't likely to be. She'd loved the antique piece he'd
given her, telling him she'd never ever part with it, but she'd left it. Hell,
she'd joked if he ever got fed up with her the dresser was part of her severance
pay. He'd shown her just how unlikely that scenario was.
Cade
would have bet his best
Shibari
rope she'd enjoyed
being persuaded.

Wrong again.

The fact she'd gone told
Cade
more
than anything just how she'd cut herself off from him. How she couldn't accept
him as he was and, he acknowledged, always would be.

For the first time in his adult life,
Caden
McCourt cried.
Big heaving sobs that racked his body.

And strangely for him, he didn't plot revenge.

****

Six Months Later

 
Anna Jason looked at
the man in front of her and sighed.
Thank
god it's in a public place and Danny is here. This is so
shite
.
She put on her best no nonsense take-no-crap voice. "Look, mate, I'm so
not interested. No means no. Now piss off, I'm a barmaid, not a
bedfellow."

The guy leaned forward and breathed beer fumes over her.

"You,
listen
you…" He
didn't get any further before he was grabbed by the back of his neck and jerked
backward. She watched as her brother—and boss—gave the man an earful and
manhandled him to the door. Anna ran her trembling hands over her skirt. She
couldn't do this. Who was she kidding, one
skanky
drunk and she was a shivering, quivering wreck.

Danny walked back to her, the obnoxious punter dispatched.
He stared at her and touched her hand.

"Anna, my love, we need to talk."

That was what she was afraid of.

****

Fifteen Years Later

Anna Jason loved her job. No two ways about it. How she'd
fallen into this perfect position she had no idea, but each and every day she
gave thanks to the gods of difference. For the first time in more years than
she cared to remember, Anna felt happy.
Happy and safe.
And when she thought of the place she felt safe in, Anna grinned to herself. It
was one of life's little ironies.

The soft thud as a door closed made her look up from her
computer screen. Ana smiled as her boss approached her desk, her heels so high
it was a wonder she didn't need stabilizers.

"Okay,
hon
?"
Linsey
Mitchell was a take–no-prisoners
Domme
who had lifted
Dommissima
up by its garters from a
mediocre Glasgow club to one of the premier—and most exclusive—private BDSM
venues in Britain, if not Europe. She'd accepted Anna had no interest in her,
her ladies, or—as she thought—the
lifestyle,
and
everything had been good. Anna had been pleased about the first two and had no
intention of elaborating on the third.

By day, Anna was a very efficient P.A. On certain nights,
she manned the admittance desk and ran troubleshooting. As long as she didn't
actually have to go into the club, she was happy. Outside the double doors was
her domain, but inside was a no-go area. Even looking in their direction was
enough to give her shivers. Sometimes she wondered what if … but ‘what if’
were
two tiny words with very big meanings. She hadn't tried
to find out what if, she'd run. Now with hindsight, she accepted it probably
wasn't the best way to have handled her worries. Then it had seemed the only
way.
Coward’s way…

Linsey
had put the word out that her
P.A. was off limits, and her punters accepted that. No one ever wanted to cross
that lady. Not if they wanted to live.

"Here's the details of the guy I was telling you
about."
Linsey
waved the document in her hand.
"It's a real coup getting him to agree to guest here, I tell you.
Evidently, it’s a rare occurrence when he guests. He'll be here in a day or so
to look round." She handed the slim file to Anna, who took it and started
to read the typed pages. The name jumped out at Anna and spots floated in front
of her eyes. There was a strange ringing noise in her ears; her pulse raced,
and her skin went clammy.

Oh hell, don't let me faint.
Not here, not now. Let me tell her.
She opened her mouth to speak, but
couldn't form the words.
A week,
wavery
croak
was the best she could manage. Anna began to hyperventilate, and
for the life of her couldn't stop.

"Anna, what's wrong?"
Linsey
pushed Anna's head down. "Take deep breaths, come on now, you're
fine."

Am I? I'm not so sure.
However, Anna did as
Linsey
told her and gradually the ringing disappeared, and
her vision cleared. She gulped in air and wiped her forehead on the tissue
Linsey
handed to her.

"Don't move."
Linsey
left the office. Anna couldn't have moved if she tried. Her legs felt like
jelly, and pins and needles bombarded her skin like tiny hailstones.
Linsey
re-entered the room and passed Anna a glass of
water. "Drink it slowly and tell me what brought that on. Are you
pregnant? Am I going to have to try to knit booties and have coal around for
you to eat?"

That made Anna smile, albeit a somewhat small grin.
"Not a snowball in hell’s chance of that. No, it's just you okayed this
guy." She handed the form back, hoping her hands didn't shake.

Linsey
scanned the form.
"Yeah?
Well, what's not to accept? I'm really over the
moon with this. He's a well-respected Dom. Great form, even better credentials,
and all his subs rave about him. We're honored to get him. He's very picky
where he demonstrates and only does a couple of guest nights a year. He has the
choice of anywhere in the world to go, and he chose to come here. I was
gobsmacked
, I tell you. We'd have them queuing to the
border to get in if we advertised. What a coup. So, as I said, what’s not to
accept? I should be genuflecting all the way to his base and back again."

Now how could she answer that?

With the truth.

"
Linsey
, maybe we need to sit
down.
With wine and an open mind."
Anna bit her
lip, and
Linsey
raised her eyebrow at the action.