Bejeweled and Bedeviled

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica
Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Bejeweled and Bedeviled

ISBN 9781419915703

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Bejeweled and Bedeviled Copyright © 2008 Tiffany Bryan

Edited by Briana St. James.

Cover art by Syneca.

Electronic book Publication April 2008

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not
be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written
permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home
Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this
copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including
infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is
punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. 
(http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/)

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons,
living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The
characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

Dedication

To my hubby, Jeff—the
Sir Geoffrey
in the very first
novel I ever wrote and the man who brings me roses for no other reason than to
cheer me up and express his love. There are so many things to thank you for,
but since space is limited I’ll just list a few. All the support and
inspiration you’ve given throughout the years. The hours you spent lounging at
my back, nagging me for the next pages of my current work so you could read
them. Your unwavering and fierce support of my writing. Never once complaining
about the money spent on the pursuit of my publishing dream. For being a great
dad to our children. But mostly for giving me the peace of mind in knowing that
no matter what life throws my way, your loving hand will be extended for me to
reach for.

I love you—Wifey.

Acknowledgements

To the most wonderful bunch of friends and critique partners
a writer could hope for. Thank you all for your constructive input and support
throughout the years.

Kathy Fuller, Chris & Kathy Kraft, Nelson Kirsch, Chris
Nolfi, Christy Carlson, Jane Sabo and Kim Porter.

Special thanks to: Mary Ann Chulick who knew when a good
swift kick was in order. Raelene Gorlinsky for the opportunity to submit to EC.
Briana St. James, my editor, for helping make this story the best it could be.

Trademark Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark
owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Gucci: Gucci America, Inc.

Trilliant Cut (aka Trielle, Trillian, Trillion): Henry Meyer
Diamond Company of NY

Velcro: Velcro Industries B.V.

SEXUAL BOUNDARIES—Are yours real or imagined?

Kayden Starling moved her gaze from the top of the
centerfold article in the four-month-old issue of
T
ell it Like it Is
to the short questionnaire on the adjacent page.

Name A Sexual Act That Both Fascinates and Repels You.

If you’d be willing to try it with complete anonymity—all
related expenses paid—and will agree to a confidential interview, reply to the
P.O. box provided below.

From the thousands of entries submitted, six lucky readers
were handpicked.

Kayden knew because
TLI
was her baby. The survey, her
brainchild.

What the hell had she been thinking!

She didn’t regret the inspiration. It was the best idea
she’d had since the magazine’s inception two years ago. It was the getting
personally involved part she was doubting.

The project had hatched from a conversation thread on TLI’s
new blog of things you’d never be caught dead doing in regard to sex.

Kayden couldn’t help but smile. Give a group of women an
open forum of obscurity, real or alcohol induced, and the subject inevitably
turned to sex.

 They were high on the issue’s success and it was under the
proverbial alcohol-induced umbrella that the six women who comprised TLI’s
executive staff were enticed into making a personal pact of their own. The
general nightclub roundtable consensus—
Why the hell should the readers have
all the fun
? If six follow-up issues were as good for sales as projected,
wouldn’t twelve be even better? Irrefutable pocketbook logic no woman
contemplating her next pair of Gucci winter boots and matching bag could
resist.

So they’d enthusiastically tossed their names into the bowl
containing those of the lucky readers picked.

Kayden leveled a jaundiced eye at the fishbowl rimmed with
genuine birthstones at the corner of her desk. Purchased at the Bling Your Pet
shop on the first floor of the building, it held the remaining ten names for
the drawing. A reader, the first name to be drawn, was currently mink-deep in
her taboo sexual fantasy of being a rich man’s mistress.

Kayden’s name had been drawn next.

The very reason the owner of Club Kimberlite, Chicago’s most
exclusive BDSM and submissives training club, was waiting in the lobby to see
her.

A situation that caused her heart to pound and her pussy to
throb. Kayden was hard-pressed to say which reaction caused her the most
concern.

She loved strong, dominating men. Hell, she netted them like
a pheromone-soaked spider web. It was when their dominance spilled out of the
bedroom into her everyday life that her independent nature balked.

He was a Master Dom with an impeccable reputation, she
highly suspected the only time the word
boundaries
entered his thoughts
was when he was walking over them.

A stickler for her magazine’s reputation, she’d done
extensive research. The information on the elusive Mr. Hunter Trielle had been
much harder to come by than the details of his reputable establishment. But
Kayden had found enough about the man to feel, if not comfortable, at least
completely safe with the situation.

She glanced at her notes, still up on her computer screen.
Kimberlite—
a
rock in which diamonds are formed.

An apt name for a club reputed to produce the “jewels” of
the submissive world.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the time display at
the bottom of her screen.

Six o’clock.

She drew in a deep breath and let it pass through her lips
in a slow exhale.

Even if the man had showed up unannounced, without a single
attempt to get an appointment, three hours was a long time to keep him waiting.
Not a great way to start off with someone you were about to give carte blanche
over nearly every aspect of your life and body. Even if it were only for two
weeks.

Her gaze dropped to the notepad beside her phone.

Fourteen days.

Three hundred and thirty-six hours.

Twenty thousand one hundred sixty minutes.

One million two hundred nine thousand six hundred seconds.

But who was counting?

After another calming breath, Kayden closed the file and
shut down her computer.

Her attempt to reach the intercom button was curtailed by a
soft knock on her door, followed by a curvy, petite form slipping into the
room.

The tiny smirk on the copy editor’s face made Kayden sigh.

“You can’t keep him waiting forever.” Trista’s pink,
glistening lips morphed into a grin. “Come on, smile. Unlike the rest of us,
you won’t have to spend any more time agonizing over your decision.”

“You’re so full of crap. All you’ve been talking about this
past week is rigging it so your name is picked next so you can pack yourself
off to your secluded week of ménage a trois.”

Trista shrugged and sauntered over to plant herself in front
of the desk. “I’m trying to psych myself past the
repels
stage and focus
on the
fascinates
.” She stuck her hand into the fishbowl for a quick
swirl through the folded, multicolored paper penises. “And it seems to be
working. I get so wet thinking about it, I had to lay in an extra supply of
batteries for my
Big Boy
.” She expelled a weighty sigh.

Kayden laughed, and with usual after-hour abandon, pressed
the intercom button and spoke loudly. “Shayla, get my broker on the line. Ask
him to sink a bundle in whatever brand of batteries Trista uses in her
vibrator.” Sitting back, Kayden grinned.

Until the reason for the goofy smile on her friend’s face
sank. She dropped her forehead onto her desk. “Any chance in hell he didn’t
hear me?”

“Nope,” Trista emphasized with a loud pop of her lips.

Groaning softly, Kayden sat up. “Anyone else out there?”

“Just Consuela. This is the third time the old crone’s been
up to vacuum the lobby. Between her and the foot traffic from nearly every
female in the building tramping through on some trumped-up errand, including
subscribing to TLI, your procrastination is wreaking havoc on our rug fibers.”

“You’re kidding?” Kayden sat up straighter.

Her friend shook her head. “The upside is we just broke the
record for single-day subscription sales.”

“I suppose that’s something.”

“He’s gorgeous. With a capital
G
.” A dreamy sigh
followed the statement. “It seems no one is impervious to his strong, silent
charms. Hell, this is my third trip through and I’ve lost track of the times
Morgan, Kendra and Harley have given Shayla a break from her secretarial duties
to keep him company while he waits. And I gotta tell ya, not one of us would
have a problem kneeling at
that
man’s feet with mouth open wide.”

“Yeah well, I appreciate the offer and if I find myself in
need of any help, I’ll be sure to call.”

Trista ran a tongue across her lips, kicking up the shine.
“I know I speak for the group when I say, night or day, you got my number.”

Kayden rolled her eyes. “All right, point taken. Give me
five minutes and have Shayla show
Mr. Gorgeous
in.”

Exactly five minutes later, her door reopened.

Resigned to her self-inflicted fate, Kayden looked over the
top of her secretary’s curly red head to the tall, dark-haired, gut-wrenching
hunk behind her and became immediately ensnared in his piercing amber gaze.

One thought went through her mind.

She was about to go skinny-dipping in some very dangerous
waters.

* * * * *

“Mr. Trielle.” Kayden stood and extended her hand over the
clutter on her desk, catching Shayla’s thumbs-up as she quietly exited.

“Hunter.” Instead of offering his right hand, he used his
left to capture hers and draw her out from around her desk. He held her gaze
for several intense seconds before indulging in a slow, arousing perusal of her
body.

Feeling exposed down to her darkest secrets, she warded off
a shiver and gave free rein to her irritation. “Would you like me to strip and
turn around? Wouldn’t want you to miss anything. That’s why you’re here, right?
To size me up?”

“An enticing offer,
Kayden
.” He released her hand.
“If I thought it stemmed from anything other than a feeling of vulnerability, I
would take you up on it.”

She frowned. “It has nothing to do with vul—”

“Don’t.” His voice stern, he cupped her chin in a grasp that
was no less commanding for its gentleness. “I will tolerate many things during
your training. Lying…is not one of them. Neither to me, nor yourself.” He
loosened his hold to run his thumb over her lips, leaving an electrifying fizz
in its wake. “Not until you learn the limits of my tolerance and the
consequences for exceeding them.”

Caught in his compelling gaze, Kayden fought the urge to
rock up on tiptoes and offer up her mouth for his plundering pleasure. The
thought of where else he might plunder caused a flood of sensation between her
legs. “Now why don’t we sit and discuss my terms for our agreement. Then
perhaps we’ll revisit your generous offer.”

Freed of his hold and potent gaze when he turned to take the
chair in front of her desk, Kayden felt both relieved and bereft. It wasn’t
until she was firmly reseated in the position of power behind her desk that his
words registered. “
Your
terms? What about mine?”

“I am well aware of your terms, Kayden. You were quite
meticulous in spelling them out during our e-mail exchanges. Normally, I would
never have agreed to participate in anything like this. But you intrigued me.”

“Yes, it is an intriguing concept. Everyone thinks so.”

He shook his head. “Not the idea…
you
. The reason I
decided to make this surprise visit instead of having you come to me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“People’s reactions are influenced by environment. I needed
to see you in yours. Get a true sense of your wants. Your needs. Learn what I
need to know to be sure we’d be a suitable match.”

“You’re kidding, right? We’ve been together all of what,”
she glanced at the clock on the wall, “fourteen minutes and you’re saying you
know me? Not likely.”

“It has nothing to do with time. I just needed to look into
your eyes.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

He took a deep, measured breath, drawing attention to his
impressively wide chest. Knowing she would feel the pleasurable weight of it in
the not-too-distant future made her breasts tingle.

“Are you saying you
don’t
believe it?”

Not entirely sure she didn’t and remembering what he’d said
about lying, she opted for a change in subject. “Maybe it would be best to get
on with your terms. It’s getting late and you probably have
something—someone—back at your club that needs your attention.”

“As luck would have it, I’d only recently returned from a
much-needed rest in the Philippines when I came across your interesting
request. I hadn’t committed to training a new sub yet.”

She almost asked if it was his arm that needed rest from
whipping women into submission, but she doubted he’d see the humor in it.
Taking measure of the bronzed, healthy-looking and extremely fit man sitting
across from her, Kayden was seriously beginning to question her so-called luck.

This was a game, nothing more. Her body wasn’t supposed to
be humming along to the tune of the power he seemed to exude without so much as
a quirk of his little finger. Unnerved by her reaction to him, she attempted to
regain some control by saying, “It must be nice having a private island
hideaway to escape to.”

One dark brown eyebrow rose slightly.

The satisfaction she felt by his apparent surprise made her
smile. A fair hand at reading people herself, she’d sensed he wasn’t a man
easily impressed.

“You would have had to dig long and very deep to find that
bit of information. Was it curiosity about me personally or can I assume you
research everything this thoroughly?”

“Everything.”

“Club Kimberlite?”

She nodded.

“The submissive lifestyle?”

Another quick nod.

Only to regret it when a predatory smile touched his lips.
“Excellent. Then I will expect much more from you as you already have a fair
knowledge of what I’ll require of you.”

“I never said I knew everything. And I’m sure the experience
is a far cry from reading about it. That would be like slapping a collar on a
dog, snapping on a leash and expecting it to heel its first time out.”

He didn’t so much as blink at the deliberately crude parody
she’d drawn. Why she felt the need to crack his calm veneer, she wasn’t sure.
Nor was she sure it was wise. She suspected it was a sudden case of nerves and
that he was pressing her beyond her comfort zone way too quickly for her
liking.

“You know I don’t expect that of you, any more than you
expect me to believe after your in-depth research, you think that’s how a Dom
perceives his sub. They are loved and cherished as well, if not better in some
circumstances, as most wives. That a large majority of couples living this
lifestyle are, in fact, happily married to each other.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“A perfect opportunity for your first lesson. A
sincere
apology is always accepted.”

She got the uneasy feeling there was a
but
lingering
somewhere after that statement. Deciding this might not be the best time to
have it clarified, she asked, “Exactly what are your terms?” A rhetorical
question, since she had a fairly good idea.

The corners of his mouth lifted a fraction. “There’s only
two. The first—your choice of a safe word. And I think you know what the other
one is.”

“Total submission.” She didn’t bother to make it a question.

His smile widened. “Do you agree?”