Bound in Blue (32 page)

“Going down on you on my conference table?”
he provided.

“Yes. It was a matter of impulsive
urges.”

“Obviously.”

“The man—”

“His name is Adei. Please do not disappoint
me by stammering out excuses. I admire your carnal enthusiasm.
However, we are not in the habit of constant, promiscuous, and
public sex here at our headquarters. The focus must be on training
for roles and performances.”

“Of course,” she said in apology.

“That is not to say we don’t satisfy our
sexual urges at other times, in other, more appropriate locales,”
he added. “But while you are here in the training facility, please
refrain.”

“Yes, sir.” She tried to appear duly censured
but couldn’t help looking at him sideways with a flirtatious smile.
For a moment he gazed at her, a probing, prolonged look that was
not flirtatious in return. Then he shook himself and looked down at
the folder on his desk.

“Anyway, about your file. You have probably
realized by now that you’ve not been brought here to blend into the
background of some existing cast. Like many who see you perform, I
find myself compelled. Inspired.” He leaned back in his chair and
fixed her with an intent look. “Do you know what it means to
inspire a man like me?”

Valentina wasn’t one hundred percent sure she
knew what it meant, but she acted on her best guess, rising to her
feet and crossing to kneel before him. She could barely keep her
excitement in check as she reached to unbuckle his belt.

“No.” His hands came over hers, stilling
them. “No, my dear. Not that.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, indeed. You begin to alarm me. Is there
some...condition? If so, please be honest with me. We’ll work with
it as well as we can.”

“A condition?” she asked, her cheeks flushing
with embarrassment.

“A medical condition which requires you to
have sex at least once an hour? As I said, please be honest. There
will be no repercussions, and we will make allowances as we
may.”

“No, there’s no medical condition.” She
straightened, wishing there was a way she could instantaneously be
sitting back in her chair. “I’m sorry. I misunderstood what you
were asking.”

“That seems patently clear. When I want sex
from my partners, I am very direct about it.” He indicated that she
should go sit down again. “If I am not demanding sex from you, you
may rest assured it is not desired.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again, miserably. His
cool tone wasn’t mocking, but Valentina nonetheless felt mocked. “I
do have a bit of a condition. I am too enthusiastic sometimes. Too
impulsive and passionate, not just with sex, but everything.”

“These are excellent problems to have, in my
opinion. Before I knew you were called
La Vampa di Napoli
, I
sensed you had a bit more fire than everyone else. I need your
fire, Miss Sancia.”

She stared at him, at his broad, classically
handsome face, his generous mouth. What was there to say to such a
man? “You can have my fire,
signore
. As much as you
want.”

He leaned forward, fixing her with the full
weight of his stare. “What if I want all of it?”

Did he mean—? She leaned forward to go to him
again.

“No.” He held up a hand. “I do not mean that.
I mean that we are to mount a new production here in Paris. New
cast, new performances, new blood. I have conceived a show about
the elements, but it needs a central symbol. A flame, a fire, an
explosion of life to anchor the rest of the acts. You understand?
The show needs a spirit to drive it. You have this spirit and I
want to use it to delight Paris audiences. The production will be
named
Cirque Élémental
.”

“But...” She wasn’t sure what he was asking
of her. “I’m an acrobat, a banquine flyer. I don’t have an act to
last an entire show.”

“Not an entire show. There will be other
acts, but you’ll be the show’s figurehead, the vision on the
poster. We’ll create an entire production with ten or fifteen other
acts. Dance, lights, costumes, humor and pathos, feats of strength
and agility. You know...circus.”

The steady tone of his voice never altered,
but some deeper challenge in his gaze excited her almost beyond
bearing. At the same time, he was making it clear he wanted her
artistry, not her sexual advances. He hadn’t wanted her on her
knees before him. Very sad.

“I will do whatever you like, Mr. Lemaitre.
Simply tell me.” She gave him a look, one she hoped communicated
that she was his vessel to use, artistically or otherwise.
“Whatever you want from me, sir, I am yours.”

Mercy

Cait and the Devil

Firebird

Deep in the Woods

Fortune

Owning Wednesday

Lily Mine

Comfort Object

Caressa’s Knees

Odalisque

Command Performance

Cirque de Minuit

Burn For You

The Edge of the Earth (as Molly Joseph)

Disciplining the Duchess

Waking Kiss

Fever Dream

Club Mephisto

Molly’s Lips: Club Mephisto Retold

Annabel Joseph is a
multi-published BDSM romance author. She writes mainly contemporary
romance, although she has been known to dabble in the medieval and
Regency eras. She is known for writing emotionally intense BDSM
storylines, and strives to create characters that seem
real
--
even
flawed
--
so
readers are better able to relate to them. Annabel also writes
vanilla (non-BDSM) erotic romance under the pen name Molly
Joseph.

Annabel loves to hear from her readers at
[email protected].