Chapter 1
“The park’s closed today,” the gray-haired gentleman at the visitor’s desk said in a slow Irish drawl. He scowled at his computer screen then scribbled notes on a piece of paper without looking at her.
“I’m not a tourist, I’m Dana Brennan. I was hired as a musician for the show.”
Glancing up from his work, he gave her a quick once-over and frowned. “What happened to you, miss? You’re soaking wet.” He stood and approached the counter from the other side, giving her a closer look. “Didn’t fall into the bog now, did you?”
“Bog? No, I had a flat tire on my drive over. It was raining.”
“Changed it yourself now?”
She nodded.
He smiled, clearly astonished. He was a man of indeterminate years with white hair, a weatherworn face and blue eyes that held humor one moment, and severity the next.
“I’ll get you your key so you can get into dry clothes. I’m Will Donegal, the proprietor of Rathmoor Castle.” He opened several drawers until he held up a key. “Here you go, Ms. Brennan. Take the road to the right of the castle. You’ll find the cottages for the performers.” He handed her the key with the number six on it. “You be an American? First time in Ireland?”
“I am American, but I’ve visited before. My cousin lives in Dublin. She told me about the job.”
“I’d come and show you the cottage, but I best be staying here. Being it’s Monday, the park is closed, but tourists still wander in.”
Her spirits fell. “Darn. I was hoping to check out the castle. It looks magnificent from the outside.”
“It is that now, isn’t it?” His eyes brightened and his back straightened, then he turned serious again. “You’ll have plenty of time to explore the castle when it’s open.”
“I will. Thanks.” She sighed. “I’m supposed to meet Jack. I understand he’s the one who hired me.” They’d talked on the phone and emailed for months. She had all the music he’d sent her memorized for the show. She couldn’t wait to meet him. Curiosity stirred that fluttery sensation in her stomach.
She couldn’t help but wonder if his looks matched her fantasy image of him. At the same time, she worried if she didn’t perform well, Jack had the power to fire her, and this exciting summer job and vacation would abruptly end.
His voice had a slow, rugged sound. Maybe it was the Irish accent or her pitiful love life that had kicked her libido into gear. She hadn’t had anything more than a casual date over the last six months. Knowing her luck, Jack probably looked more like the proprietor.
“Jack’s around,” Mr. Donegal said. “His cottage is at the edge of the forest, number two. And best you don’t wander into that forest alone. You could get lost in the bogs.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Get lost? She used to go backpacking in the Shenandoah National Park alone and she never got lost. She thought better not to mention that. “I had a large package shipped. Do you know if it’s arrived yet?”
He pondered her question for a moment. “Yes, it’s here. Delivered two days ago.”
“Where is it? How did it look?” She clasped her hands to her chest, preparing herself for the worse.
He gave her a puzzled look. “Why, it looked like a box, a rather large one at that.”
“I mean was it damaged?
“Don’t think so.”
“Good. Can I pick it up now, please?”
“Jack took it. Said it was your harp. Probably took it to the castle for the show.”
“And the castle is closed,” she reminded him. Her heart leapt with relief and disappointment. By the look on the proprietor’s face, he wasn’t going to leave his post so she could get her instrument.
“Ah, I love the folk harp. ’Tis a lovely sound. I shall look forward to hearing you play.”
“Thank you, Mr. Donegal.”
He caught her gaze and gave her a slight nod. “If you follow the drive, you’ll come to a fork. Bear to the right. You’ll see the cottages. There’s a meeting tonight at seven in the castle for the entertainers. You can get your harp then.”
She thanked him again and left the visitor’s center with its quaint thatched roof and miniature windows with flower boxes, like something straight out of a fairytale. Despite her disappointment in having to wait to practice her music, her summer job excited her. Her parents had frowned on Dana’s decision to take a leave of absence from a well-paying management position in a security company for this part-time, minimal-paying job as an entertainer in a medieval show.
Both high-powered executives, they thrived on long work hours and stress. How could they understand that the stress of Dana’s job had been wearing on her life? Work usually slowed down in her company over the summer, so her boss had agreed to the leave as long as she returned by September first. She deserved this break. At thirty-three, this was the first reckless thing she’d ever done.
The midday sun dried the earlier rain and the air smelled of dew, cut grass and flowers. For a Maryland girl, June in Ireland was on the cool side. She climbed into her rental car, which looked more like a fishbowl on a roller skate, and drove along the gravel road toward Rathmoor Castle. As she reached the fork in the road, she stopped the car. Across a large field toward the right, a dozen thatched-roofed cottages lined the edge of a dense forest. The left fork led straight to the castle. The ancient castle stood in the center of a large meadow. The worn stone edifice conveyed power and strength. The centuries hadn’t diminished that.
As she gazed at the massive structure, a slight tremor went through her. Mostly, she shivered from cold. The rain had soaked through to her underwear and the cool air had chilled her to the bone. But the tremor was more than that. She couldn’t imagine her good luck at working in such a beautiful place, but what if her parents were right and taking this time off would somehow hurt her position at her old job? She drew in a breath as a sudden case of nerves overwhelmed her with doubt. As much as she loved the adventurous nature of her summer job, was she being practical?
She found herself hoping to go back to her old routine as soon as possible. Why did she think she could make a big change in her life? Fulfill a life-long dream as a musician. That wasn’t her.
Dana swung the car toward the cottages and stopped in front of number six. After unloading her luggage, she dragged it all into her unit and dropped it on the bed. The cottage was small but very neat. A tiny kitchen with a table for two was at the front, a bed and dresser in the middle, then a seating area with loveseat and coffee table. A stone fireplace took over one wall. Her teeth chattered and a hot shower beckoned.
She showered and changed into jeans and a teeshirt and slipped on a lightweight hooded sweatshirt, leaving it unzipped. Grabbing her room key and stuffing it in her sweatshirt pocket, she gave her unpacked suitcases a weary look as she left her cottage.
When she tried Jack’s door and got no answer, she accepted the grim fact that harp practice would have to wait until after the meeting that evening. The castle loomed in front of her and begged exploration. A drive into town for groceries would wait. How could she pass up scouting the grounds of a five-hundred-year-old monument? Closed or not, she had to take a closer look. She had all afternoon to shop and unpack. As she climbed the hill toward the castle, she admired how the dark stone structure rose well above the trees and at each corner were tower-like turrets. The view from the top must be amazing.
After working in a security company for thirteen years, force of habit had her scanning the castle walls for security cameras or spotlights. No cameras, minimal lighting, no motion sensors. She hoped the park had a better system in place inside, considering the castle was supposed to have fifteenth- and sixteenth-century furnishings.
Why did the castle have to be closed today? Just her luck. She walked up the drawbridge and tried the door and found it locked. Crap. Maybe it wasn’t so easy to break into a castle.
Walking around the building, she ran her hand along the rough stone. Five hundred years old. She tried to imagine what it would’ve been like to live here centuries ago. The sophisticated lords and ladies must have had many lavish feasts and celebrations. And all summer she would be entertaining in this beautiful, historical place. A dream come true. She couldn’t contain her smile.
She hadn’t practiced in over two weeks since she’d shipped her harp. Even though the audiences for the dinner shows would be small, her stomach knotted as if she was about to perform at a huge symphony hall.
Three-quarters around the building, she discovered a small alcove and a wooden service door at the end of the narrow walkway. Dana tugged on the metal door latch and it opened. She shook her head. Very poor security. She should mention this to Jack and make some recommendations while she was here.
A narrow curved stairway led up. She preferred to learn the layout of the place before she started work, since the first show would be in a couple of days. One flight up opened onto a great hall. A few tapestries hung on the walls between giant windows and heavy dark chairs and one table nearly took up the entire room. They’d need more tables to seat guests. There must be another room.
Dana crossed the hall to another doorway that led to a different stairway and was about to climb, when she saw a flickering glow from the darkness below. Fire? Could the castle be on fire? Wiring or the furnishings could be. She trotted down the circular stone stairs.
Darkness crept in around her except for the golden, flickering light from the basement. Walking through another doorway, she thought she heard voices but she wasn’t sure. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.
As she rounded a stone partition, the room brightened. Flames flickered within a half dozen wrought-iron sconces; a fire burned in a small stone fireplace. The room smelled of sweet burning wood and damp stone. At the far wall two people hovered in shadows. Dana remained in her circle of darkness at the bottom of the stairs, unable to tear her gaze away from the frightening sight.
A naked woman, suspended from the ceiling, was bound with straps. Her wrists and ankles secured and spread wide in a V shape. Torn between wanting to rush over to rescue her, or run out and call for help, Dana froze. She couldn’t move or speak.
A narrow hammock cradled and supported the woman’s back and bottom. Her pussy and anus lay open wide, and metal clamps were attached to her nipples. Dana winced at the distended tips protruding from the tight clamps. The woman also wore a blindfold. The other person, a male, wore a hooded robe. His back faced Dana.
A rush of heat, then cold crept through her. Wrapping her arms around her waist, her first instinct was to escape and call for help. Then she stepped back and searched for a weapon, planning to do some damage to the guy if the woman needed help. Instead, Dana froze at the bottom of the stairs. Attacking this man was not a good idea if the woman was a willing participant. She would watch long enough to make sure the woman was okay.
There were people who got into this kinky stuff. Why would this woman allow this man to do these things? “More, slave?” the man in the robe asked the woman.
The woman nodded. “Yes, Master, if it pleases you.” His fingers stroked the narrow thatch of dark hair between her legs, avoiding the glistening folds of her pussy. The woman squirmed and tried lifting her hips.
Dana managed to breathe in teaspoon-sized portions of air. People did this for fun? It didn’t look like fun. Was the woman in trouble? Should she stop this? Go for help? Move, dammit.
“You want me to touch your clit, don’t you?”
The woman whimpered and arched her back. “Yes, Sir.”
“But I hadn’t given you permission to move.” He continued to tease her, his fingers trailing along her inner thighs, across her ass and back to the thatch of hair.
The woman moaned in pleasure. “No, Sir. You didn’t. I forgot.”
His hand moved to her breasts and adjusted the nipple clamps until she let out a little yelp and sharp intake of breath. “I’ll have to punish you for forgetting.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He swung a flogger in the air several times. The woman’s chest rose and fell quickly as if anticipating the blows that would come. Dana held her breath. The robed man struck her ass and she cried out and jerked against her bindings. Her feet pointed and her legs tried to spread wider.
“Yes, Master, again. Please.”
Biting her lip, Dana clamped a hand over her mouth. Good lord, the woman enjoyed this.
“Not just yet. You’re being an insolent slave today.” He chuckled as the flogger swatted her bottom and the underside of her thighs.
Dana’s blood chilled with the sharp crack of leather hitting the woman’s bare skin. As he hit her again and again, the woman slumped in her restraints, her head hung to one side. He approached her and brushed her long dark hair from her face and kissed her forehead tenderly. Whimpering, the woman leaned into the kiss. Dana stared at the couple shamelessly. She should leave quietly but couldn’t pull herself away.
“Good,” he said. “You ready for more?”
The woman nodded and leaned into his hand. He walked over to the wall and pulled an object out of a tote bag then came back to the woman.
“You remember the safe signals with a gag?”
“Yes, Master. Three quick grunts or open and close my hands.”
“Yes.” He bent down to kiss her. “Now open.” A ball gag was secured in her mouth. He tied the straps around the back of her head. Now the woman couldn’t scream if she needed to.
Dana couldn’t shout or run. Should she trust this man or do something?
“You’re such a pain slut, my love.” The man stroked her hair then he swung the flogger in a circle. Turning to the side, the man faced Dana. His robe gaped open, and he was naked underneath. His hard cock jutted out from the draped fabric. “I think you like pain as much as coming.”
The woman made a mewling sound as she nodded.
“You want to come, don’t you?” His hand slipped between her legs, then he plunged a finger inside her.
She nodded and moaned, trying to raise her hips.
“No, stay,” he ordered, pulling his hand away. He then swung the flogger and swatted straight across her breasts.
The woman gave a yelp as much as she could with a gag in her mouth.
Dana bit her lip as heat flowed through her followed by a throbbing in her pussy. Lord, she was wet and getting turned on by this. The man lapped at the woman’s clamped nipples, then took a swollen tip between his teeth. The woman jerked against her restraints. “Too painful?” he asked.
She shook her head and arched her back, offering her breasts to him. He bit harder this time and the woman cried out beneath the gag. Dana’s nipples hardened too and her pussy was sopping. How could the woman stand that kind of torture and appear to beg for more?
“Are you ready to be fucked?” he asked as his hand dipped down to her slit.
She nodded, writhing in her restraints.
“I’m going to fuck you, but I want to taste you first.”
The woman let out a groan and looked at her right hand. She had her pinky finger extended. He looked up. “You’re signaling you’re on the edge?”
She nodded.
“Good. I’ll go slowly.” He cracked the flogger in the air. The sound made the woman and Dana jump. “But don’t come until I give you permission. I still wish to taste you so you must remain in control.”
The woman nodded slightly and whimpered. Stroking her breasts, the man then moved his hand lower, circling her pussy. His mouth positioned between her legs and Dana could see he blew across her clit and labia. The woman groaned. Dana held her hand over her mouth.
Obviously, these were lovers, strange as it was, and she needed to get out of there before they saw her. Slowly, she took a step back and another, but somehow managed to trip over her own feet in the darkness. Stumbling, she fell back against the wall. The movement and noise caught the man’s attention. He jerked his head toward Dana and gave her a narrowed look.
End of preview for Edge of Passion.
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