Page 27 of Vienna Bargain

Alena blinked at him, his question so unexpected that for a moment she was flummoxed. “Fibonacci sequence?”

“To the tenth place.” He glanced at her. “I’ll change it.”

The keys beeped as he pressed them, then a thunk seemed to travel through the walls. A round handle popped out of the door. Retractable handle—an uncommon security measure, but usually effective. She looked at the heavy door and keypad.

“We’re underground, aren’t we? Not just in a secret room on the first floor.”

“Yes.” He grabbed the handle and with a firm twist popped the door open.

“It’s an underground prison,” she murmured.

Alexander paused and looked over his shoulder at her. For a moment she thought she saw a shift—a softening around the eyes and mouth—but it was gone before she was sure she’d really seen it.

“A panic room.”

“You turned your panic room into a dungeon?”

“I value my privacy.”

Alexander stepped in, pushing the door all the way open and holding it for her.

Alena looked at the underground playroom, felt the collar around her neck, and knew that if she wanted to get out of this with her sanity intact she’d have to be smart. Smart enough to remember he was her opponent, and this wasn’t some elaborate role-play. He wasn’t both the sexily malevolent villain and the black knight come to rescue her.

Alexander hooked his finger through the D-ring on her collar and tugged her into his private dungeon.

The walls, floor, and ceiling were uniform gray cement, and the room was lit by a dozen can lights embedded in the concrete overhead. The room wasn’t a saferoom-turned-dungeon, but instead a bit of both. There was a small generator and industrial-looking wall mounted cabinet tucked into an alcove.

Opposite the door was a rectangular opening revealing a utilitarian bathroom with a toilet-sink combo and a circular water tank about the size of a phone booth, held to the wall by thick metal straps.

She studiously examined the non-BDSM safe room elements, ignoring the dungeon bed that held court in the middle of the room.

Alexander had released the collar once she was inside, and when the door thunked closed, she wasn’t able to suppress a mewl of fear. When he put his hand on the small of her back she nearly sank to the floor in relief. Despite the fact that she hadn’t heard him leave, that she’d been able to hear his breathing in the stillness of the room, she’d been terrified that he’d abandoned her in this gray coffin.

“Regretting our bargain?” Alexander motioned to the bed.

“The bondage bed is so far down my list of worries it’s not even on the first page.”

Alexander blinked, then frowned.

Alena turned in a slow circle. “I’m terrified of being trapped underground in this lightless, airless cement box.” There was a handle on the inside of the door, and that calmed her a little.

“This is a panic room, not a prison.”

“Aren’t I your prisoner?”

“You made a disadvantageous bargain.”

“You gave me no choice and we both know it.”

“I am not the one who— And this isn’t—” Alexander stopped mid-sentence and paused. “The keypad locks and unlocks this door.” He pointed to a black LCD screen mounted in the concrete beside the door. “You may leave whenever you want. I will not change the code.”

Alena arched a brow. “Really?”

“Yes. You can walk out of this room at any time.”

The look on his face made it clear he wanted to draw this out, to make a show of both offering her a choice while also making it so that any choice but staying here, right where he wanted her, was abhorrent.

“Let me guess, I can leave this dungeon, but I won’t get access to my clothes, phone, or passport.” Her panic receding, Alena walked towards the bondage bed. “Maybe I find a phone, but I don’t speak any of the local languages, making it very hard for me to phone an embassy.”

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