“But…”

  “Don’t argue, please.”

  Her mouth snapped shut. She recognized that voice, quiet and firm. He used it on his players. But not usually on her.

  She wasn’t sure she liked it. Then again, she wasn’t sure she didn’t.

  Her insides didn’t seem to have any doubts. The seductive heat rose another several degrees.

  Once inside the room, she closed the door and sagged against it. The room spun pleasantly. She closed her eyes, enjoying the carnival-ride sensation. That was it, a carnival. This whole night, this whole trip to Wild was like a surreal play in which she didn’t yet know her part. Strangely, she found she didn’t need to know it in order to enjoy the show.

  She was already enjoying it more than anything in the past few years. And the night was young.

  Which reminded her about the masquerade party. She opened her eyes and saw clothes draped across the foot of the bed. Gavin must have left them while she was waiting for him at the front door. How thoughtful. How considerate. But did he know how to pick out a party dress for a woman?

  She sifted through the clothes. As she took them in, she went hot, then cold, then hot again. A black mask with feathers, black leather, sequins. These were clothes for a stripper, for a showgirl, for a…slave girl. She didn’t even have the words for these items of clothing. Was this a dress? Or was it underwear? It consisted of a wide strip of leather with eyehooks in the back and black netting above and below. Was the netting supposed to cover her breasts? It wouldn’t. Nor would the skirt hide much at all, nearly see-through as it was. But maybe that’s what the stockings were for. Except they only seemed to go thigh-high. They ended in bands of satin ribbons.

  She ought to toss these clothes in the trash. That’s what they were, trash. Except they weren’t, she realized as she felt the gauzy netting. They were beautiful. Impeccably made, elegantly erotic. The woman who wore these clothes would be a siren. A temptress, a goddess.

  And Gavin had laid them out for her. Bought them for her. She saw a note next to them. In Gavin’s firm handwriting it read, “You’re beautiful”.

  A sudden weakness nearly brought her to her knees. She sat on the bed. Could she really put on these clothes? Her mother would be horrified. Appalled. She’d react the way she had when she’d caught Beth masturbating at the age of nine. Beth hadn’t even known the name for what she was doing. It felt good, that was all. Her mother had stumbled back, gasping in horror. Beth had gotten the silent treatment for weeks. She’d never dared touch herself again.

  A surge of rebellion brought Beth to her feet. Masturbation wasn’t wrong. Neither was experimentation. She’d spent so many years shoving down her urges, her fantasies. What was the harm in trying on these beautiful items alone in the privacy of this room? Before she thought better of it, she tore off her clothes and stepped into the leather corset. It wrapped around her torso in a rough hug. She reached behind her to fasten the eyehooks. It fit her perfectly and made her spine go straight. Her body relaxed into the confinement.

  She looked down at her breasts. The corset cupped and cradled them together. The leather stopped just short of her nipples, which were covered only by a layer of black gauze. The gauze felt soft, but the way it rubbed against her nipples made them swell. Good lord, she thought faintly. They’re poking out there for everyone to see. The thought made them swell even more. She wanted to cover them with her hands but that was stupid. No one was there to see. And if they were, they’d be more likely to look at her sex, which was barely hidden by the short skirt that reached halfway down her thighs. She hurried to pull on the stockings. Not that they helped. Even when she dragged them as far as possible up her thighs and tied the ribbons, her tuft of hair was barely hidden by the skirt.

  No way could she go to a party like this. She reached back to undo the hooks, then saw the tiny thong that had fallen to the floor. She pulled it on, and even though it was little more than two pieces of black ribbon, it made all the difference. At least she wouldn’t be blatantly flashing anyone.

  The final touch was the mask. Once she put that on, she screwed up her courage to look at herself in the bathroom mirror. At the sight of her reflection, a surge of such fierce power rushed through her that she had to steady herself on the bathtub. The woman who stared back was an erotic work of art. She was sensual, stunning, alluring. She was someone else. Someone who didn’t jump at the sound of a quiet rapping on the door.

  She was someone who sauntered to that door and opened it slowly, teasingly drawing out the moment. Someone who didn’t recognize the man who faced her.

  Chapter Five

  The man who must be Gavin scorched her body with a long, deliberate look from head to toe. Every part of her came to life under his scrutiny.

  “Gavin?” Her voice sounded tinny to her own ears. “That’s you, isn’t it?”

  He was dressed all in black and wore a black mask that covered the upper part of his face. He looked dangerous and very, very sexy. Her eyes drifted to his pants. Black leather. His shirt was made of softer material that clung to his muscles. He looked like a lethal cat burglar who planned to surprise some lucky lady in her bedroom and steal her jewels right after ravishing her.

  She shivered at the fantasy.

  “Let’s go,” Gavin said. His voice sounded lower, rougher than normal. And his tone left no room for anything other than obedience.

  “Out there?” She shook her head in panic. “I don’t want anyone to see me.”

  “Well, I do.” There was that tone again.

  “Gavin, be reasonable. I mean, look at me.” She looked down at her chest, where darkened nipples pushed against the fabric. The sight gave her a wild pulse of excitement. She looked like someone in a movie. Or in a photograph. The photograph flashed into her mind. Her knees went weak.

  “I’m looking. So will every man out there. They’ll all wish you belonged to them. But you don’t. You belong to me. Time to go.”

  He opened his hand. A leather collar nestled in his palm. A collar just like the one…

  She went faint. Gavin must have seen the photograph. He must know all the dirty thoughts she’d had. All the air seemed to disappear from her lungs and the room blurred. Would he scorn her now? Shun her as she deserved?

  “I’m going to put this on you now,” came Gavin’s stern voice, like a lifeline through her fog. “Once it’s on, you must do what I say. I wouldn’t want to have to use the leash, but I will if I have to.”

  She shook her head quickly. She didn’t want a leash. Or maybe she did. Unbearable excitement pounded through her veins. He came close, his presence so overwhelmingly powerful she bowed her head to him. She smelled the spicy, rawhide scent of leather and felt his fingers on her skin. He turned her so her back was to him. Stiff, cool leather surrounded her neck. As soon as he fastened the collar, a strange feeling came over her. By marking her like this, wasn’t he assuming responsibility for her? Anything that happened after this, anything she did, would be his doing.

  No one could blame her. Especially not…but she pushed the ghost away.

  This was Wild Nights, and she was wearing a mask and a collar. Anything could happen and it would be all right. The sense of freedom intoxicated her.

  “Who are you?” she asked him without raising her head, surprising herself with the question. Maybe she wanted the illusion to be complete.

  Gavin ran his index finger along the lower edge of the collar, back to front, testing its tightness. Then he went lower, across the exposed skin between the collar and the netting. She wondered if he could feel the frantic beat of the pulse in her throat. He seemed more interested in the curve of her breast, following the plump flesh to the edge of her nipple. There, he scratched the nipple with his thumbnail.

  A shivering, silvery feeling shot through her. Her tongue tingled and her whole body jerked in response.

  Good God, where had that come from? She never jerked like that. She was always calm and cool, even in bed. But the person who had put on this outfit, the person who loved the feel of a collar around her neck, that person had jerked.

  With his thumbnail, he drew a line along the edge of the corset to her other nipple. She held her breath, bracing herself for the thumbnail, but instead he squeezed the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Squeezed and rolled until a sound ripped from her throat that she’d never heard before, never even imagined. A sensual, guttural, needy sound.

  Still squeezing her nipple, he leaned close to her ear and said hoarsely, “I’m your master. The master of your body. Everything here is mine. And I intend to use it exactly as I please. Understand?”

  Her senses whirling, she nodded.

  “As your master, I demand one thing you cannot deny me.”

  “Wha… What?”

  He tightened his hold on her nipple, plucking it until she cried out. With his other hand he pulled her against his body. She felt his aroused shaft against her ass.

  “This. Your response. You are forbidden to hold anything back. Anything. I want your cries, your moans, your screams, your curses, I want to hear it all. If I feel you’re hiding anything, there will be punishment. Do you understand?”

  “Pu-punishment?”

  “Punishment. For instance, right now we have a choice. We can walk through the roadhouse, in front of everyone, like two adults going to a slightly risqué masquerade ball. I’ll even give you a cloak to wear if that makes you more comfortable. Or we can walk out there with you on a leash like a proper slave girl. And I’ll make sure your nipples are nice and swollen and juicy before we go. You won’t be able to hide a thing.”

  She trembled against his hard chest. Part of her, the naughty, shameful part, craved the scene he described. The other part shied from it.

  “No, please,” she whispered. Not yet. I’m still getting used to this.

  He seemed to understand without her explaining. “You’ve behaved well so far, so there’s no need for any punishment. But don’t push me. Don’t hide. Don’t hold anything back.”

  “I won’t.” She wasn’t sure she could, to be honest. The feelings he was drawing from her were so new and overwhelming, she didn’t know how to handle them.

  But Gavin had shown her the way. Give her feelings to him. Give everything to him. It was all his, after all.

  She felt a sudden chill as he moved away from her, and in the next instant, warm fabric enveloped her. A black cloak, big enough to swirl all the way around her body. He tied it in the front, a tender focus in his black eyes.

  “You look very beautiful and erotic,” he told her as he tied a bow at her neck. “Any man would count himself lucky to get a look at you. But I’ll leave it up to you. Just keep in mind, everyone takes Wild Nights very seriously here. You’re absolutely safe. No one will ever mention anything that happens here. Understand?”

  She nodded. And believed. She hadn’t believed until she’d skated with Eagle and felt the wild, free air dance around her. Here in Wild, they’d all stepped out of normal time and place and into another zone, an unpredictable yet utterly safe zone. Kind of like the Twilight Zone—except it was the Wild Nights Zone. The thought amused her.

  “Are you ready?”

  “I need my shoes.”

  Beneath his mask, Gavin’s lips dented in a smile. “I’ve got them right here.” He went to the small closet and pulled out a long shoe box. He drew out a pair of long, shapely, burgundy velvet boots. They were the sexiest footwear she’d ever seen, the way they curved and displayed. Boots for a courtesan, for a legend. Her mouth watered at the sight.

  Gavin helped her into them, pulling the laces tight around her calves. They were luxuriously confining, blissfully useless for anything except posing provocatively.

  “What about the snow?” she said wistfully. “They’re too beautiful. I don’t want to ruin them.”

  “Don’t worry about anything.” He ran his hands along the back of her leg. The material was so thin she felt every touch. “I’ve got it all taken care of.”

  “They fit me perfectly.” Her forehead puckered in a frown. Her feet were unusual—one was a half size smaller than the other. How had Gavin known?

  “Sweetheart, have you forgotten you belong to me? I know every part of your body. Intimately.”

  Her face flamed under her mask. Had Gavin really been paying that much attention to her all this time? Sometimes it seemed they lived parallel lives, his hockey, her art framing. But the fact that he knew her odd shoe size made an unexpected little bridge between them.

  What else did he know about her? Somehow, he’d known she’d like this. She hadn’t known it herself, but he had.

  “Thank you, my master,” she whispered. The words hung sweetly in the charged air. As if in reward, he curved his hand around her buttocks and urged her forward. Her body followed his command. The boots snugged around her legs. The height of the heel made her walk differently. Her ass curved out, her breasts thrust forward, her muscles flowed with a liquid motion. With her first step, the cloak fell away, revealing a glimpse of her obscenely clothed front.

  He bent forward to open the door ahead of her. “Don’t forget, you’re a knockout,” he growled in her ear. “And don’t forget, you’re mine.”

  His. All his. She repeated it to herself as she sauntered down the hall toward the living room. She was doing exactly what her husband and master wanted her to do. None of this was her fault. If she enjoyed the swish of the cloak against her legs, the wisp of air against her nipples, the clasp of leather around her midriff, well, it was what he wanted.

  Hold nothing back.

  As she stepped into the living room, Gavin a breath behind her, she straightened her back so the cloak fell all the way off her shoulders. Let them see the dark shadow of her aroused nipples. Let them ogle her, admire her. They wouldn’t even recognize her. She was a sensual apparition behind a mask, a Wild Nights fantasy come to life. Anything goes, nothing counts.

  A scattering of men lounged in the living room. From behind her mask, she gave them a quick survey. Most were strangers. She spotted only two of the Renegades. They were playing cards and sharing a bottle of whiskey. A young woman was curled up in the armchair in the corner with a paperback. A hunter type sat at the piano bench and pecked out Oh My Darling, Clementine. The others blended together in a wild blur as Gavin prodded her into the room.

  Everyone looked up and froze. One of the Renegades players dropped his hand of cards. The piano went silent. The room went electrically still.

  As if someone else had taken over her body, she gathered the moment to her and swayed across the floor with a stride that said, “Look at me. Want me. Crave me.”

  The piano started up again, this time with a slow, sexy burlesque tune. She used its rhythm to help her navigate across the room. The men looked at her with open lust. In the corner, the paperback girl’s jaw dropped open. She looked…jealous, that was it. For Beth, it was all fuel for the fire. The sexual heat flaring through her grew with each step. Her nipples burned under the fascinated attention of the crowd. The skin of her inner thighs went damp. The more she emphasized the swing of her hips, the more she felt the thong teasing her sex. If only she could take it off and let the fresh air caress her pussy.

  Her pussy? She never used that word. And yet now that she’d thought it, it wouldn’t go away. The word kept repeating in her imagination with a sultry rhythm. My pussy is so hot, my pussy needs some stroking and some licking and some loving. Swish, sway, swing of the hips, brush of Gavin’s hand beneath her cloak, in the crevice between her buttocks.

  A moment of panic struck and she nearly stumbled. He was going to feel how slick she was. How turned-on. What would he think of her then, knowing what this sexual strutting before strangers was doing to her?

  His strong hand steadied her. He murmured something to her, but in the confused din of her thoughts, she couldn’t make it out. She tore away from him and ran the rest of the way across the room and out the front door.

  A blast of deep-freeze air slammed her in the face. The temperature had dropped well below zero since her walk to the lake. And the cloak wasn’t nearly enough protection. She wrapped it around her and looked desperately around the dark, empty street. What happened now? Where could she flee to without slipping in these crazy boots and landing in a snowbank?

  She’d disobeyed Gavin’s orders. She’d held back. Instead of allowing herself to enjoy her moment of sensual display, she’d panicked and fled for safety.

  Harsh footsteps sounded behind her, then the door opened at her back. She spun around to face Gavin. Her mouth opened to explain, to apologize, but the words ended in a puff of surprise as he whisked her off her feet and settled her into his arms.

  As he strode down the street, it occurred to her that this was the second time today she’d been carried like a baby in a man’s arms.

  Gavin was just as strong as Eagle. He never faltered, even though the icy wind blasted them with a full-frontal assault. Down the block they went, down an alley. She twisted her head to see where they were going, but she wasn’t familiar enough with the town for it to matter. At the end of the dead-end alley sat a series of small log cabins. They walked past every one until they came to the very last, most private cabin, set in a grove of spruce trees all by itself.

  Gavin set her on her feet, took a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door. He fumbled for a light switch. Before he found it, she peered at his face in the darkness. His mouth looked grim.

  Her breath caught in an onrush of excitement. What kind of price would she pay for her disobedience?

  Chapter Six

  The sight of Beth’s tender flesh peeking through that outrageously sexy outfit made Gavin crazy. He had to fight to restrain himself. He had to play this carefully, very carefully. He didn’t want to scare her or break the mood. Deliberately, he took his time with the light switch so she couldn’t read his expression—couldn’t see how closely he examined hers.