Michaels, Skye - Paula's Commitment [Le Club 4] (Siren Publishing Classic) Read online

  * * * *

  Friday evening Max picked Anamaria up in the chauffeur-driven Lincoln Town Car for the very short trip to the club. When the gates opened and the car drove through, she was amazed to see the enormous Victorian mansion surrounded by fabulous English gardens and hundred-year-old, Spanish-moss-draped oak trees. All three floors of the house were lit from the top to the bottom. The antique, rippled-glass windows and French doors sparkled, and she could see the beautiful chandeliers, antique furniture, and draperies through the windows. The peacocks that could be heard all over the neighborhood were strutting on the garden paths, tails on full display. It was as though the entire estate had made an attempt to dazzle her.

  “My goodness, Max! This is just stunning. I never knew all of this was here behind those tall stone walls,” she said, astounded.

  “That’s exactly the intention. We’ll visit the library first and get the confidentiality agreement out of the way.”

  She had been wondering if there actually would be a confidentiality agreement. Well, apparently there was. “Okay,” she said, a little unnerved and suddenly subdued.

  After the formalities had been taken care of, Max explained to Anamaria that the estate was a private BDSM club and what exactly that entailed. She was amazed, never having thought that such a thing could exist on the down low—under cover, so to speak—in the heart of the historic district of downtown Ocala. They took a stroll through the beautiful gardens, down to the tranquil pond, around the exotic black-bottom swimming pool, and back to the elegant five-star dining room for dinner. When Anamaria looked at the menu, she was surprised to see the name of the chef. She had worked with Phillippe Leclair on many of the society affairs she had orchestrated. She had heard he’d left the employ of the country club where he had previously worked, but she’d not heard where he had gone. Well, now I know. This is really amazing.

  Everyone in the dining room was beautifully dressed and totally appropriate for the setting. However, she caught glimpses of some really strangely dressed people walking through the gardens toward a large garage building at the back of the property. Max noticed the direction of her gaze and said, “Those are club members going to the Playroom, which is a BDSM dungeon. I really don’t think you want to go in there, dear. Some rather extreme things could be taking place,” he said cautiously.

  “Max! I’m not a prude, and I didn’t just crawl out from under a basket,” she said indignantly. “I’m here, and I want to see everything! I had to sign my life away on that confidentiality agreement, and I don’t intend to miss a thing!”

  “Hhmmm,” he said with a sigh. “All right, but let me know if anything you see makes you uncomfortable and you want to leave.”

  “Not a chance!” she responded with a wide grin, her eyes sparkling.

  After the sumptuous dinner, coffee, and dessert, Max took Anamaria’s arm, and they strolled down to the Playroom. When the doors opened onto the large, industrial-looking space filled with BDSM equipment, some of which was in use, Anamaria’s eyes widened. She might have thought she was sophisticated and worldly, but this was really over the top! Doms in black leather pants, some without the crotch and others without the seat, were leading subs on leashes, some wearing skimpy leather or latex attire and some completely naked. One sub was being flogged at the ominous-looking “X” cross, while another was tied with black bondage rope in an intricate pattern and suspended from restraints dropping from the ceiling.

  Max explained, “There are only ten actual members of the club, but it is open to visitors from a sister facility in New Orleans, as well as one in Key West, and various other guests or submissive partners of the members. Sometimes, this room is very lively. There are also private theme rooms available for the use of the members and their guests.”

  “What are theme rooms?” she inquired.

  “Smaller private rooms—there’s one set up like a school room and principal’s office, another as a medieval dungeon, another like a royal bedchamber, another like an executive office, a captain’s cabin on a pirate ship, and various other fantasy themes. There are also some that have no specific decor but can be quickly outfitted by management for any fantasy the client requires. The management team is quite inventive. There is also an extensive wardrobe department to supply costumes.”

  “Wow! This is unbelievable,” she said incredulously. “I never had any idea anything like this existed.....or if I did, it just didn’t register.” She squeezed his arm. “Do you think we could visit one of the theme rooms?”

  He looked at her in horror. “Anamaria! Of course not! You’re a lady…”

  “Well, what does being a lady have to do with the cost of tea in China?” she asked irreverently. “I want to see everything!” And maybe do a few things?

  “My dear...”

  “Oh come on, Max! Don’t be an old fuddy-duddy.” She grinned. He is such a gentleman. I wonder if he will ever be able to get over this, but I’m not missing my chance to see and do everything!

  Anamaria could see Max was thinking quickly. “I think the room that is the least offensive and one that you might really enjoy is the Royal Bedchamber.”

  “Really? That sounds wonderful.” She was thrilled.

  “All right. Let me just say for the record, that despite the amount of time I spend here because of Justin and Jamie, I do not participate in BDSM activities. Their father had a private dungeon in the old slave quarters at the plantation in Louisiana, as well as a charter membership in Le Club Beaudelaire-New Orleans. To be truthful, the boys really only dabble in the Lifestyle. Neither participate in hard-core activities. Thank goodness. But, I saw what the Lifestyle did to their father, and I have never been tempted to indulge myself.”

  “Max, if it makes you uncomfortable, never mind,” she said a little disappointedly.

  “No, my dear. We’re here. I brought you here, and I’m not a prude either. Let’s give it a whirl.” She was sure he never imagined this outcome. They made their way back to the mansion. Max signed out the keys to the Royal Bedchamber theme room, and they picked out costumes from wardrobe.

  When Max unlocked the Royal Bedchamber and they walked through the door, Anamaria was astounded yet again. The room was extremely opulent with English-style antiques, paintings and accessories decorating a large room with old, rubbed walnut paneling. The centerpiece of the room was a lavishly draped carved bed with gold and red tapestry hangings and bed coverings.

  “There’s a bathroom through there,” he said, indicating a heavy, paneled door. “You can change into your costume in there. As I understand the procedures, you are to address me as ‘Your Majesty’ or ‘Sir’ while we are in a role playing scene,” he said. Anamaria could see that he was slightly embarrassed but also slightly turned on. “I will call you ‘Madame’ or ‘Anamaria.’”

  Anamaria came out of the bathroom dressed in a long, lavish, lace-trimmed gown with a shockingly low bodice and built-in, push-up bra. She knew that Max had gotten an eye full before he went in to change into a costume quite reminiscent of a medieval monarch. When he came out, they both looked at each other and burst out laughing. They rolled onto the high plush bed and fell back, continuing to laugh until they both were breathless, and Anamaria had hiccups. “We can either go through with this or scamper out of here like kids caught on Halloween. What do you think?” he asked, letting her make the decision.

  She giggled some more and said, “I say let’s go for it! We may never have the nerve to do this again. Why miss the opportunity?” That said, she threw herself into his arms and kissed him deeply. He responded by pulling her tightly against him. Then he ran his hands up her back and around until he cupped her breasts in his hands. He said, “I will have your favors this night, Madame, or your husband will be executed in the Tower in the morning.”

  “Oh, Your Majesty! Please do not execute my husband. I have four daughters to raise, and my husband’s estate is entailed—we would be penniless and homeless if he were executed. His
evil younger brother would put us out on the moors with nothing.”

  “Well, then you had better please me well, Madame, for your husband’s life depends on your abilities in bed.” He snickered. Anamaria could see that he was having a hard time keeping a straight face, although he did not seem to be having a hard time keeping a stiff cock. She was amazed at just how exciting this was. His deep, seductive voice reverberated through her right down to her toes. He quickly tore the lacy gown. The Velcro seams made a loud ripping sound as he caught hold of the bodice and disrobed her with gusto.

  Anamaria screamed. This is really quite realistic. It certainly gets the juices flowing and the heart pounding.

  Max fell on top of her and tore the tissue thin, white lace-trimmed chemise undergarment from neck to hem. It, too, was constructed to rip away easily and without permanent damage. Anamaria’s full breasts, tipped with large, rosy, puckered nipples, were on full display. Well, this won’t do. He still has all his clothes, and mine are in tatters on the floor!

  “May I disrobe you, Your Majesty? I think you have far too many clothes on,” she simpered.

  He lay back on the enormous mound of pillows and said, “You may disrobe me, wench, and be quick about it, as I grow impatient to have you.” She saw how the garments came undone and made quick work of removing them. Before he knew it, she had him naked on the bed beside her. He smiled widely. “Madame, I could not have asked for a better outcome.” He lowered the lights, pulled the tapestry hangings closed, and turned to her with a gleam in his eye as she sighed in welcome.

  Chapter Twelve

  On Monday morning, with Justin Devereau and a copilot at the controls of a G450 Gulfstream twin-engine jet, Paula was cruising at an altitude of 40,000 feet and a speed of 450 knots toward Manta, Ecuador. She was accompanied by Christa Vasquez, the bilingual nanny she had engaged on Trent’s behalf, one cabin attendant, and Kelly Devereau as moral support. She was excited but nervous at the same time. The thought of meeting the twins and of seeing Trent again was daunting to say the least. The plane was enormous and would easily accommodate fifteen to twenty people if there had not been generous seating areas, a conference room, and a bedroom carved out of the space.

  “Ms. Greenley, I am just so excited! I never imagined I would be riding in a private jet to another country to pick up twin babies. Is Dr. Redding a nice man? He must be to take on the care of two orphans,” the nanny continued. Christa was young, pretty, energetic and vivacious—just the qualities needed to take care of two precocious two-year-olds.

  “Yes, Christa, he is a very nice man. The twins were abandoned by their family at birth due to their conjoined status, I would imagine. Actually, I can’t imagine abandoning children under any circumstances, but life is different there I guess. Not that we don’t have problems like that in the United States. Watching the news every night is an exercise in disbelief.”

  “It is a really big undertaking,” Kelly added. “The care of two-year-old twins, possibly with problems, who don’t speak any English. I’m really impressed a single man would take that on.”

  “Yes, Trent has a really big heart,” she said. Just not for me. She grimaced at the thought of what she knew was coming. “From the pictures I’ve seen, the kids are adorable. Two two-year-olds. Makes me glad I’m a career woman. Life as he knew it is over for Dr. Redding.” She had a sly grin on her face at the thought of a couple of rambunctious toddlers taking over Trent’s life. Too bad I won’t be around to see it. “He just doesn’t know it yet.” Paula closed her eyes and tried to snooze as they drew nearer and nearer to their destination.

  * * * *

  Upon landing, they were met by a stretch limousine from the American embassy, the American ambassador, several other officials, and Trent. He pulled Paula into his embrace for an exuberant kiss. He had really missed her, but he felt the slight hesitation in her response, a tightening of her muscles. Something still was not right with Paula, and he would have to get to the bottom of it sooner rather than later.

  Trent, Paula, Justin, Kelly, and the nanny, Christa, piled into the stretch limo for the drive back to city and to the hospital. Manta, Ecuador, a midsized city located on the northern Pacific coast of South America, was green and beautiful with stunning views of the ocean and a rich pre-Columbian past. Trent thought it was a shame that there would be no time for sightseeing and shopping as he knew Paula and Kelly would have enjoyed that. Everyone was anxious to meet Maria Christina and Maria Teresa. Justin left the jet in the care of the copilot for the unloading of luggage, refueling, and filing a return flight plan. With luck, they would be making the return trip the next day. Trent was anxious to get home.

  * * * *

  It was pandemonium at the hospital, with local and embassy officials, press, local doctors, and the nursing staff that was extremely fond of the twins. Trent managed to corral Paula, Christa, and the Devereaus for a private introduction to the kids in the playroom of the pediatric unit. As soon as they saw him, they homed in on him like little homing pigeons. It was clear to Paula that the three of them were already very close. Paula felt a twinge around her heart. This should be my little family, and it just isn’t going to be. She pasted a smile on her face and bent down to the kids’ level to say, “¡Hola, muchachas! Mi nombre es Tia Paula. ¿Besitos?”

  They laughed at her and threw themselves from Trent’s arms to hers, giving her the kisses she had asked for. The combined weight of two healthy two-year-olds almost brought her to her knees. She staggered back and Trent put a steadying hand on her arm as she caught them and pulled them to her chest. And right then and there, they wormed their little selves right into her heart. Shit! It’s too late already. My goose is cooked. She hugged them carefully in light of their recent surgery, looking at Trent for guidance. She didn’t want to hurt them. He just gave her a huge smile of gratitude, and something else she wasn’t sure she could identify.

  They spent a couple of hours playing with the kids, feeding them their dinners, and having them passed from lap to lap for hugs and kisses. It seemed to be going very well. Paula could see that the kids were taking to Christa already, which was a huge relief. It would have been a problem if they had not been comfortable with the nanny. At bedtime, Trent firmly picked them up and took them in to bed. He tucked them in and kissed them good night over some slight objections and whining. They were still so excited. Paula was suitably impressed. He was clearly very much at ease with them. It made a very nice picture—the tall, handsome, blond doctor with the two small, dark-haired, big-eyed munchkins. Paula’s heart broke a little more. This is just going to be so hard.

  Justin had booked a suite for them at a local hotel. Trent returned to his temporary accommodations to finish packing for their departure the next day. It looked like she and Trent were not going to be able to be alone just yet, and their inevitable discussion would be put off for a while more.

  The jet took off the following afternoon with everyone loaded aboard. Paula had taken the precaution of bringing a children’s video in Spanish to pass the time. Before she knew it, MC and MT, as she had come to think of them, were cuddled up against her, one on each side, like little pups next to their mom. She sighed, resigned to her fate, and put her arms around them. This was likely to be her only time with them, and she was determined to soak up as much of their affection as she could. She knew heartbreak was coming her way, and there was nothing she could do about it.

  * * * *

  Upon arrival at Ocala International Airport, they were met by the press again. After a short interview and pictures, they loaded the kids into another limousine and headed for the medical center in Gainesville where the twins were scheduled to be evaluated and where their medical care was to be handled while they were in Ocala.

  Trent and Paula were nervous as they handed the kids over to the care of the medical center’s pediatric team. They would only be there for a day or two at the most, but it just didn’t seem right to leave them so soon.

  The
half-hour drive back to Ocala was strained. This was the first time Trent and Paula had been alone. “Well, babe, what do you think? Aren’t they the cutest little banditos you’ve ever seen?” Trent was secretly smiling at the picture of his little family in his mind. He said a little prayer that it would all work out.

  “Yes, I have to admit the ‘banditos’ have stolen my heart,” she said.

  “Okay, subbie, what’s the matter? I know I dumped this deal with the kids on you unexpectedly, but you haven’t been yourself since I left for Ecuador. Spill it,” he said in his steely Dom voice. What the hell is wrong with her?

  “Nothing is wrong, Trent. This is not the time to discuss it anyway,” she said, unconsciously admitting that something was indeed very wrong.

  “You’d better come clean—and quick. I’d hate to have to spank you so soon after my return,” he said with a leer guaranteed to get her goat. He’d found that was the best way to deal with Paula’s occasional moods. She was usually very upbeat and fun, but, on occasion, he found he had to jolt her out of a mood.

  “It’s not going to work this time, Trent,” she said sadly. “I think it would be best if we didn’t see so much of each other.” She handed him back the black leather collar and attached diamond heart he had given her several months ago.

  Trent was stunned. “Why?” he asked with a look of bewilderment on his handsome face. “Paula, this is right out of left field. I certainly wasn’t expecting this, especially now.”

  “Let’s just call it self-preservation. I love you. I can see I am going to love those kids. But you don’t love me. If I have any hope of surviving this, I need to cut my losses cleanly and right now.”

  Trent was dumfounded. His stomach was sinking. What the hell was she talking about? He had told her how much she meant to him just before he’d left for Ecuador. “I don’t understand, Paula. You know how much you mean to me. I’ve told you before...”