Page 4 of Tower

She couldn’t logically argue the point. She knew that lesson well enough already.

“Maybe you are an ass, after all,” she retorted, and he laughed, a soft chuckle really, but it lightened his features.

“I never said I wasn’t. I only said that wasn’t the reason I’m cutting you off.”

The man was impossible, and he was wasting all of her time. She didn’t have long before she needed to hightail it back home.

“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes and turned her back on him, signaling to the bartender that she would like to have that last glass of wine. She didn’t really want it. But she wasn’t going to let the overgrown ape behind her think he actually had a say in what she did or didn’t do.

“I think someone really wants a spanking tonight.” His deep whisper ran along her ear. “You don’t have to be so naughty. If you want to play, come up to my office. The guard will let you in, and I’ll give you all the spankings you’d like. But if you keep being so bad, I won’t be able to make you feel good.”

She froze. Every muscle in her body refused to move. How the hell was she supposed to respond to that. Obviously, she couldn’t.

Right?

No, she couldn’t.

She didn’t have time.

And especially not with him.

Too arrogant.

Too handsome.

Too dominating.

“Maybe, if I have time.” She tried to sound dismissive, but she could feel the tremor in her voice. Hopefully, the sound was lost in the background noise.

“Well, I hope you do.”

She picked up her fresh glass of wine and turned back to him. But he was gone. She spotted him in the crowd; the sea of people simply parted for him as he made his way through. He jogged up the steps near the stage and stopped to speak to the guard. She noticed him point in her direction, and her cheeks heated. He really wanted her to go to his office?

For a spanking?

The small clutch hanging from her wrist vibrated.

“Shit,” she muttered, put her glass back down, untouched, and dug out the watch. Her alarm reminded her of the time, and the urgency with which she needed to get her ass moving.

Half an hour. Just enough time to collect her coat and get home before her mother’s meeting ended.

Forgetting the glass of wine, she pushed her way through the crowd and made for the exit.

Chapter 2

The windows rattled from the thunder outside. A storm brewed, and Peter wished it was only the weather that signified the shitstorm coming toward him.

He knew opening his club could be seen as a breakaway from the Annex, at least by members of town who didn’t quite grasp the full concept of loyalty. Having his own piece of the nightlife didn’t distract him from his family. His loyalty would always remain with the Titon family. But it did give him a place where he reigned absolutely. No one to answer to, no one to run things by, everything on his terms and within his control. Exactly the way he liked it.

Peter walked to the windows overlooking the city below. He’d invited a woman up to his office. A woman he didn’t know but had been drawn to from his first glance at her in the crowd.

She played coy pretty well, but he had seen the nervousness buzzing beneath her fake glare. The more she thrust her chin up, the more visible the fear. The little tremble in her voice cemented the observation for him. She was an innocent. Hell, she could be a damn virgin with the way her eyes widened at the sights before her. But when he’d taken the whip to Cassandra during their little show for the club, Azalea had soaked it all in.

He had planned to take Cassandra up on her offer of dinner after their demonstration, but changed his mind when he caught Azalea’s eye. Her clothing hugged her too tightly, presenting more of her body than someone not offering a sample would have, but she’d said she wasn’t working.

Peter sighed and shook his head. She probably wouldn’t be coming up. And he should be getting back to the Annex. With Ash away on his honeymoon, he had double duty to be sure the girls were safe and staying within their boundaries. Even grown women who knew damn well the consequences for breaking the safety rules of the house would play harder when the boss was away.

Making his way down through the back stairwell, he called the garage attendant and told him to have his car ready for him. The two-way mirror wall he descended past gave him the opportunity to overlook the dancing and playing going on in the club. He scanned the crowd for the stark-blond hair of Azalea, but came up with nothing. Maybe he’d scared her off, and maybe it was better for her to be gone. An innocent like her would be devoured.

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