Fall from India Place (On Dublin Street 4)

She stared at Kam wide-eyed. “You just strolled into E while you were on a walk with Angus this afternoon, did you?” she asked, a smile pulling at her lips.

He arched his dark eyebrows in a droll expression. “You think that’s odd?”

She shook her head and laughed softly. “I’m growing used to you. I’m beginning to think there’s nothing you either haven’t done or wouldn’t, once you decided you wanted to. The way you told off Jason tonight when he was being so uppity about the opera. Your strolling into the hottest, most risqué boutique in the city; those and a thousand other things, will serve as my lessons to never be too cocky about getting you, Kam Reardon.”

He gave her a one-sided grin and stepped toward her, holding out the bag. “I insinuated I didn’t like opening night, which is true. Too crowded. But I actually do like the opera. I used to go in London pretty regularly.”

“I figured. Did you used to go with Diana?” she asked, holding his gaze as she accepted the bag.

He nodded. “I think she was thrilled when she found something that I actually liked that suited her lifestyle.”

“But you were just being honest about a discovered passion, weren’t you?” Lin asked, studying his face. He shrugged. She smiled, loving his insouciance, his laconism . . . the fact that he was the most fascinating man she knew and yet hardly ever talked about himself. She loved him period.

“What’s wrong?” Kam asked, his gaze narrowing on her.

Lin willed herself to recover from her automatic, incendiary thought. She hadn’t meant she loved him loved him. Just that she adored his character. His honesty. His rugged good looks. And the way he made her scream in a frenzy of need in bed . . .

She cleared her throat and held up the bag.

“May I?”

“Please do,” he replied.

She set the bag on an end table. The first thing she drew out was an exquisite black silk, short gown with lace at the breast. “Oh, it’s gorgeous, thank you,” she whispered, running her fingertips over the detailed lacework and held up the fluid, soft silk against her cheek. She glanced at Kam. He said nothing, but the look in his eyes and the small smile he wore made her heart beat faster.

She withdrew two packages tightly wrapped in tissue. “Just open the smaller one for now,” Kam said gruffly. “The other one is just the hardware.”

Her brows lifted at that. She fleetly unwrapped the package. “Oh,” she murmured when she saw the four black leather straps with sturdy platinum buckles and small hoops and hooks attached. The cuffs were finely made and sturdy. Despite their obvious sexual intent, the bands were attractive—almost like edgy jewelry. She looked at Kam, her mouth hanging open, her pulse beginning to throb at her throat.

“They reminded me of when you were wearing those black leather high heels the other day,” he explained quietly. She stared at him in blank incomprehension. “The ones with the thick leather strap that buckled around your ankles? In Ian’s office? I was getting hard just looking at them. I was trying to figure out why the sight turned me on so much. It was something about the contrast. Thick leather against silk. You’re so delicate, and your skin is flawless. I wouldn’t have thought ‘leather’ for you, but there you have it,” he finished a little sheepishly. “The boutique has a really talented artist—Jarvis Cooper—who hand makes all the jewelry, including the watches. I talked to him for a while and he showed me his workshop. When he showed me these, I thought of you.”

She fingered one of the restraints, holding his gaze. He was telling her that for whatever reason, the thought of her in the leather restraints did it for him. “One for each of my ankles and wrists?” she asked.

He shrugged slightly. “We can just use the wrist cuffs until you’re ready for the others—”

“I’m ready now,” she whispered.

His mouth snapped closed. She saw his throat convulse as he swallowed.

She set down the cuffs and reached into the bag again. “You really went to town, didn’t you?” she teased, lifting out another tissue-wrapped package.

“It was sort of one-stop shopping, especially for a visitor like me who wasn’t planning for something like . . .”

She glanced over at him as she unwrapped what felt like a small box.

“. . . you,” Kam finished.

She tore her gaze off his face to look at what rested in the palm of her hand. This, she recognized. A small bullet vibrator. She owned a similar one. The thought of Kam using it on her, of watching what had formerly been a solitary, autoerotic experience, caused both her cheeks and sex to flush with heat. “You really were stocking up on the essentials, weren’t you?” she said to hide her embarrassed excitement.

If her cheeks had warmed when she saw the vibrator, they flamed when she unwrapped a flogger with dozens of supple suede tails and a tightly wrapped leather handle.

“Don’t be nervous,” Kam said, his voice a quiet, arousing rasp near her ear. She hadn’t realized he’d moved. He smoothed her hair behind her ears, his fingertips lowering to brush against her neck. She shivered. “I’m not ever going to hurt you. I’ll awaken your nerves. I’ll make you sting at worst, and the pleasure will trump it, every time. But anytime you tell me to stop, I will. Do you understand?”

She nodded and his lips brushed against her cheeks as if to absorb the heat.

“There’s wine in the kitchen. Ian and Francesca sent some over,” he said. “Why don’t you go and pour yourself a glass while I take Angus out? That way, she won’t bother us all night.”