“Disguising myself was my choice. The moment he realized who he’d spent the afternoon with, he came to find me. He hasn’t left my side since,” she argued.
But deep down, she wondered if Heath was right. Not about Axel wanting money, but about him not wanting the real her. Maybe he’d just enjoyed their fuck and wanted another.
“Watch yourself with him. I believe he’ll keep you physically safe. Emotionally . . . I worry. I think he’s a player.”
Mystery didn’t have a comeback. She’d had Axel all to herself in the desert years ago. They’d been blessedly alone together at his house. She didn’t know everything about Axel and his life. They’d had absolutely spectacular sex—fireworks, ballads—the works. She wasn’t ready to let him go. Of course, when she’d seduced him, she hadn’t been thinking of a future with him, but rather a full one without him. Now, her heart felt tangled in him, full of him. They didn’t even live in the same country, and she was sounding crazy. But she wasn’t sure how she’d live the rest of her life without him.
They pulled up in front of an industrial building with a well-lit parking lot and a brightly colored door. Axel parked his bike and took off his helmet, stowing it on a peg, then coming toward her.
He helped her from the car. “This is where I work.”
“Club Dominion?” she asked, shutting the door behind her. She’d learned about his job from the private investigator. She knew what sort of club this was. Her stomach knotted.
Heath stepped out on the other side of the car.
“You knew?” Axel asked, clearly surprised.
“I hired someone to find out where you were and what you were doing these days, yes.” She nodded.
He cocked his head. “You’re resourceful and a step ahead of me.”
From Axel, that was almost a compliment. “Why did you bring me here?”
“It’s secure. I can keep you on lockdown. Unless someone at the hotel is being bribed, almost no one can tie me to you in any way except your rescue years ago. As far as anyone knows, you’re heading back to London. We should be safe here tonight.” He took her elbow and escorted her across the lot.
Mystery sensed Heath behind them, could almost feel his disapproving scowl. “How secure?”
“Cameras, top-of-the-line system, lots of eyes and ears. Nothing will happen here.” Axel dismissed Heath and turned to her. “Just tell me whatever you need to be comfortable. I’ll make it happen.”
“Thanks.”
Instead of entering through the front, Axel skirted the side of the cavernous building and led her around back. He pulled out a key card, then settled his thumb over a biometric reader. The door buzzed open.
“That’s pretty high tech,” she remarked.
“Some of our members are city and state officials. We’ve got cops, billionaires, former SEALs—people who either need to keep a low profile or rely on unbreachable security before they get their freak on.”
Mystery didn’t say anything more. She wanted to see Axel in his environment. She wanted to experience this place for herself. As she thought of that, a shiver zipped up her spine.
They made their way down a long hallway with concrete floors and doors on either side, then Axel led her to one and knocked. He briefly introduced her and Heath to the owner, Mitchell Thorpe. Mystery remembered hearing about him on the news, harboring runaway heiress Callindra Howe for years. Rumors swirled that, though the woman had married the FBI agent tasked with tracking her down when she’d been a fugitive, Thorpe was also involved romantically with the beauty.
The distinguished man in the suit welcomed her. “Axel will keep you comfortable. If you need anything, he’ll take care of you. Callie ordered you three a bunch of Italian. It’s in the kitchen. The action up front will be in full swing in another couple of hours, so . . .”
“I’ll keep her away from there,” Axel finished.
Thorpe nodded. “Good call. If anything happens, you know the drill.”
Axel gave him a thumbs-up. “I’m set. Sean texted me and said he’ll be on standby.”
With a faint grin, Thorpe turned her way. “You’re in good hands. I’ll leave you to them. Callie wants both Sean and I home so we can”—he winked—“rub her feet.”
With that, he was gone. Axel led her down the hall again, toward the back of the building and showed her into a purely masculine suite with a king-sized bed, attached bath, and a window seat that looked cozy for reading.
“I’ll grab your bags from the car, then we can eat. You must be starving.”
She nodded. “I’ll need to call my aunt, too.”
“I’ll leave you to it.” Axel turned to Heath. “Follow me. I have a separate room for you.”
The door shut, enclosing her in silence. So far, this wasn’t what she’d pictured when she’d thought of a BDSM club, and Thorpe certainly didn’t seem like the sort of man to own one. But this room felt comfortable, so she relaxed and dialed her aunt. The woman’s voice mail picked up. Unusual.
With a frown, Mystery hung up without leaving a message. What if the danger had somehow already reached Aunt Gail?
A moment later, she heard a knock, then Axel breezed in, carting her luggage. Every muscle of his arms and shoulders bulged, the veins in his hands and forearms popping. Mystery’s mouth suddenly felt dry.
“Everything all right?” he asked, setting her bags down.
Mystery managed to string her thoughts together enough to explain the call. “Maybe I’m paranoid. Maybe my aunt is still at Bible study.”
“We have no reason to suspect she’s in danger. Relax. You’re safe here. And your aunt is probably fine, too.”
She sincerely hoped so. “Thanks.”
“Let’s go eat. I’ll give you a quick tour. Then . . . we’re going to talk.”
About earlier today. He didn’t say that, but she heard it in his voice, in the disapproval lacing his tone. Before she could broach the subject, he left the room. She followed, watching him pound a fist on the door of the room next to hers.
Heath wrenched the door open. “What is it?”
“Italian food?”
“Please.” He sounded less stiff—barely.
Ten minutes later, the three of them sat in the small kitchen, forking in lasagna and salad with a decent bottle of wine. Axel chugged back a beer, watching them carefully.
“So what’s next?” she asked to break the uncomfortable silence.
“Thorpe put a call into some friends of his, the Santiago brothers.”
Mystery blinked. “The guys who own the defense contracting business?”
“Yeah. Them.” Axel nodded. “They’re happy to let us borrow their corporate jet. Their wife, London, just gave birth to a little girl a few days ago, so they won’t need the plane for a while.”
“Their wife?” Heath asked.
Axel scowled. “Yeah. Don’t judge. It’s not what my ideal marriage looks like, but it works well for them.”
“Sounds like Callie, Thorpe, and Sean share a similar relationship?” she ventured.
“They aren’t public about it, but yeah. And now they’re expecting a baby in November. It’s good to see them happy, but all kinds walk through our doors. Hell, we once had a member who bought a mannequin at a department store closing because, according to him, it held the soul of the love of his life—and his perfect sub.” Axel shrugged. “As long as it’s legal and consensual, whatever floats your boat, I say.”