I wasn't sure what to wear to dinner that night so decided on power-dressing, in classic black pants with a black satin halter, plunging to the waistband and towering Louboutin heels. I pulled my hair up in a chignon, tight as Delilah's. Valentine eyed me with interest when I entered the Red Room.

“Good evening, Ms Cannon. You look quite stunning.”

“Thank you,” I almost stuttered at the shock of the compliment. I barely managed to hold back the retort that he looked damn fine himself, in a dark gray polo neck that accentuated that burly chest.

“Marc is unable to join us after all, so the evening will belong to just us two.”

Valentine pushed in my chair, his musky hot breath on the back of my neck. All very professional and chivalrous – back to business then? He poured a Zinfandel into the oversize Riedel glasses, sublime full juice to my maturing palette. “Go ahead. Ask me anything.”

“Will you ever allow me to touch you?” I blurted out immediately the one question that was a constant irritant.

He'd meant regarding the wine but showed no surprise other than a small smile at my abrupt challenge.

“What sort of touch do you want?” he asked.

“Misdirection, your honor. You should have been a lawyer.”

“Oh no, I involve myself as little as possible with those criminals. I only mean there are so many types of touch.”

“And you don't allow any, not from me at least.”

With Valentine I didn’t pout and mewl like I did with Marc. With him I was an equal sparring partner even if he was the boss. Valentine reached a hand to cup the back of my head and pull me gently onto his mouth. My own was already open in shock as his tongue crashed into mine, swirling and gathering in the most intense connection I'd ever known.

He pulled the pins from my updo so my long dark hair came tumbling down. The other hand cupped my cheek so both palms clasped my head to him in an intimate hold.

I would gladly have buried myself in his delicious strong grasp for always, as we held our mouths in an intimate embrace and his tongue plunged into me, expertly grinding like a cock in my pussy. Eventually he released me, withdrew his tongue and pressed his lips back into order. I was still floating back down from the heavens when he returned to business.

“I have to ask one question before we go any further,” he said.

“Fire away.”

I accepted a refill glass from Manuel who had appeared with the appetizers of duck rilettes.

“Did you fuck Josh Perrine and if so how frequently?”

“Fuck you,” I said before I thought to repress my mouth. “You don't get to ask about my past personal life.”

I bucked against being owned by any man despite my desire to be dominated. “Tell me- do you or have you ever fucked your secretary?” I demanded.

Valentine grinned widely and his eyes sparkled.

“Misdirection, Ms Cannon?”

I stared him down.

“Not in that way,” he surrendered to giving me a response.

“Really? Because she seems to have a very proprietary hold over you.”

“As is her dominant nature. So it's true to say you've formed an attachment to Josh Perrine?” His smile said he was enjoying my pushback to his challenge.

“We were dating, are- dating. Of course we have an attachment.”

Or did we? After the most recent Facetime, I had serious doubts.

“I see. Because when I told him to hire you, I did not expect him to make you fall in love with him. That was out of bounds.”

“You – told him – to-”

“Yes. You know already that I had you tested. When I selected you for this assignment, I had to make sure you were who I thought I saw.”

“You knew me- before?”

“Andie, I saw you at the Pritzkers – the architectural awards gala – right before the competition to design the winery was announced.”

It was the first time he'd ever said my name.

“Just watching you that night talking and laughing, stirred a feeling in me that I have been searching for a very long time- perhaps my whole life. For you, I created this project. I saw you and knew we were meant to play out our, oh, destiny is such a cliched word.”

Valentine took my hand and sandwiched it between his two powerful palms, while the nonchalant waiter removed the plates. He added; “I much prefer feeling to speaking.”

“You reeled me in and used Josh to train me?”

My impulse to pull my hand out of his was thwarted by numbing shock.

“Test you. You would have been gravely insulted in the unlikely event I had been incorrect in my assessment.”

“And you think I'm not gravely insulted now? I cannot. Fucking. Believe this.”

Outrage didn't even graze the edge of describing it. Valentine was right, words were not equal to the task of expressing a feeling.

“And was Marc Chapelle a test also?” I asked, watching as Valentine's eyes hardened to black steel.

“What did Marc do that would have tested you?” he murmured dangerously.

“The plane, um, I mean dungeon.”

Too late, I realized that Valentine knew nothing about Marc's animalistic invasion of my pussy, in full public view as we flew across the States. Ha- that let him know he wasn't in charge of all the pawns in his castle.

“I think now is the time for us to descend to the underworld,” he whispered darkly. “Manuel, tell Monsieur Chapelle his presence is required in the cave. Immediately.”

“You're shaking quite visibly, Ms Cannon,” Valentine said as he moved behind my chair, slinky as a jewel thief, while I sat motionless at the dining table.

I noted that after using my first name during our intimate dinner, he'd now returned to full-on formality. I guess he was actually pissed. Which would mean punishment.

“I'm sorry, sir. I can't make it stop,” I whispered, hoping he wouldn't think I was a little pussy.

Although maybe he liked to see me tremble before his power and that would raise his affection level a notch. No, he'd surely punish me harder for being a wimp-erer. Valentine remained eerily silent, standing close to the back of my chair. I didn't dare glance behind and hairs stood up on the back of my neck exposed neck. I was required to wait patiently for whatever he decided to do with me, surrendering my need for self-determination completely to him.

But just one cotton-frickin' minute- I'd completely forgotten that I was freaking furious with Valentine, with Josh, Marc, with all three of the men who were using me as a toy. Two minutes ago I was ripping him apart for having my boyfriend test me as a sub and already I was back under his spell. Because magical sleight of hand it was and there was nothing I could do to release myself from my employer's enigmatic control.

I didn't have to wait long before hearing the soft click of the spring lock jump back and feel Valentine's fingers graze my tingling neck as he placed the gold choke collar and engaged the restraint.

Holyfreakingfuck, was he going to make me crawl on my knees all the way to the dungeon? If so, I'd be ripped to shreds by the time we got there- emotionally as well as physically. Valentine trailed his firm fingers down the side of my neck, until my pores quivered from his touch. He moved across the front of my shoulders and over the tops of my soft mounds, to cup them in his hands and squeeze in the most sensual kneading I've ever received.

I shut my eyes and let the pleasure flow through every cell of my being, fully aware of the intense confidence behind his firm grip. He stretched forward a little further until I felt his hot breath on my neck around the edges of the metal collar. When he crossed his hands one over other and inserted his fingers into the edge of the fabric of my plunge neck halter, pressing a trail across my erect breasts and finally pulling the nipples into his grip, my shivers intensified.

The twist of each peak between his thumb and forefingers made me gasp out loud and he rested his cheek, if only for a moment, against the sensitive side of my neck and the metal. I was still reeling, made super sensitive from the deeply intimate kiss he'd given me before I made the stupid mistake of telling him about Marc and I.

At last, in response to me asking whether he'd ever touch me, there had been that tantalizing connection to his mouth. Now his caressing firm grasp of my breasts was completely arousing. My mind whirled like a fairground ride as I tried to picture what type of special and unusual punishment he had in mind for me this evening.

“It should be Marc you punish, not me.” I'd almost blurted out when Valentine first discovered our transgression on the plane.

After all, the Frenchman had led my seduction into the Mile High Club without me having a clue I was going to have to work with him every day. Up until that moment, I'd assumed our encounter was a genuine coincidence. That he'd been beset with lewd desire, observing me fingering my agonized pussy for relief after Josh's spanking and clamping.

But it occurred to me now, that maybe Marc had somehow been aware of my identity all along and had taken me in order to maintain some hold over me during our time at the Chateau Valentine winery. There was a lot more to Monsieur Chapelle than was apparent on his charming surface.

Of course, I said nothing. I'd already dropped Marc and I into a boiling vat of punishment by letting Valentine know that he'd 'tested' me. But from the quivering deep inside my pussy and the tugs on my clit, I knew I wanted the punishment to be all mine. And then I made another stupid mistake. Overtaken by emotion, I reached one hand up to wrap around Jay Valentine's thick forearm. He jolted as though my breasts were on fire- which in a way they were- and had singed his fingertips.

The moment shattered and he violently dragged his hands out of the fabric and attached the chain to the collar. I now saw that it too was solid gold, as he tossed it casually over his shoulder and sauntered to the door. He opened it and went out into the passage, forcing me to leap up and follow behind before the slack came up and pulled me to the ground.

My boss allowed me to walk behind him this time, instead of telling me to get on my knees. But I had to fight to keep up with his long stride in the towering skinny Louboutin pumps, without doing the geisha shuffle. It might have been easier descending the steps to the dungeon on my knees after all.

Marc Chapelle was already waiting for us inside the darkened room. I had to admit he was looking divinely rugged in a tight black sweater that accentuated his toned torso, his stubble growing through at the end of the day. For a guy in his forties he was exceptionally well-packaged. The steel-colored waves of his hair and rugged creases in his tan skin were definitely alluring.

His eyes flittered across my body, alighting on the plunging cleavage, open to the waistband of the well-cut black pants that hugged my ass. My pussy clenched eagerly with the memory of our nighttime plane ride.

“So I understand you two are a little better acquainted than I was led to believe,” Valentine said in a husky voice. So that for the first time I was fearful that he was actually bent on real punishment. He was glaring at Marc, his eyes sparking fury.

I looked at Marc too, urgently trying to communicate that in truth, Valentine knew nothing. He was only making a conjecture following my small slip up. But Marc resisted meeting my gaze and stared levelly at Valentine. Perhaps the only man in the world who didn't cower from the billionaire's power. Chapelle met the challenge and remained silent.

My heart was trying to blast through my ribcage, with fear and excitement for what was going to happen next, in this isolated mansion completely under Valentine's control. He could do anything he wanted without censure and I was avid to discover what he had in mind.