Dark Attraction: The Corde Noire Series (25 page)

While her stomach churned with misgivings, Sam gazed down at the golden liquid bubbling in her flute. She had hoped he had cared for her, but she realized he could never feel anything for a sub … for a slave.

Chugging her drink, she yearned for the forgetfulness the alcohol promised. After she had finished, she turned to him.

“You’re right. It’s very good.”

“I’m amazed you even tasted it.” He took her glass. “I’ll get some more.”

He left her at the base of the steps to the veranda. All around Sam people were laughing, enjoying the tantalizing offerings of Cajun goodies at the buffet, drinking champagne, and looking blissfully unaware of her and the sordid existence she had been living.

She had never felt different before; if anything, she had considered herself invisible … that uninteresting, plain girl. But with Sebastian she had been special and happily alive. Until that moment, she had believed in what they were doing. Now, it sickened her.

“Well, well. Sam Woods, you look stunning.”

A handsome man with disquieting green eyes stepped into Sam’s line of sight, almost making her topple over on her pointy heels.

“Do I know you?”

He had rugged features and an overly confident bearing, as if he knew how good-looking he was. “Forgive me. I’m Ren Plancharde. A friend of Sebastian’s. He’s told me all about you.”

Sam went over his fitted tuxedo with an air of apprehension. Had Sebastian spoken of her to another man? Then she remembered the name.

“You’re the artist. Sebastian has your paintings in his penthouse.”

His eyes settled on her diamond choker. “Sebastian’s mother and I have quite a few mutual friends.” He browsed the guests gathered outside of the mansion. “Nathan Cole being one of them.”

Nervous, Sam searched the crowd for Sebastian. “Ah, yes. Nathan’s disappearance has been very distressing for everyone who knew him.”

“I’m sure eventually we will discover Nathan’s whereabouts. Must make living at The Shallows difficult, though. Wondering about your landlord and all.”

She glared at him. “How did you know I live there?”

He gave her a boyish, almost mischievous grin. “Sebastian told me.”

“What else did Sebastian tell you about me?”

He motioned to her collar. “Is he treating you well?”

“What do you know, Mr. Plancharde?”

“Your secret is safe with me, Sam.” Ren Plancharde inched closer. “I know what Sebastian is. I thought he was mad moving in next door to you. I told him you could never be interested in his world. I can see that I was wrong.”

“I don’t understand, Mr. Plancharde. How do you …?  I mean, what do you think—?”

“It’s Ren, Sam.” His attractive grin grew wider, highlighting the curve of his square jaw. “I hope you didn’t take on more than you can handle with Sebastian Dane. He’s quite demanding.”

Before Sam could interrogate Ren further, Sebastian was at her side, holding two glasses of champagne.

“Ren, how are you?” Sebastian handed Sam one of the flutes. “Mother said you were coming.”

“I’m doing well, Sebastian. Your mother puts on quite a party.”

Sebastian lifted his flute to his lips. “What were you two talking about?”

Ren swerved his eyes to a small crowd of partygoers gathered on their right. “Just getting to know your newest acquisition, my friend.” He motioned to Sam. “Where is her black collar? You know the rules.”

Sam’s mouth dropped as she faced Sebastian.

“Ren Plancharde is part of my club,” he explained in a low voice. “The Corde Noire Society I told you about.”

“Are … are you another Dom?” Sam asked without thinking.

Sebastian gave her an angry side-glance.

Ren winked at Sebastian. “I like her spunk. No, Sam, I’m nothing like Sebastian. Suffice it to say, I don’t play games with women. I leave that to the other members of our society.”

“No, you like it when the women play games for you, don’t you, Ren?” Sebastian bitterly complained.

“Still sore about Kimberly?” Ren expressed his disapproval by uttering a tsk-tsk. “You know that was Nathan’s doing, not mine.”

“You set the rules. He broke them.”

Ren nodded. “And he paid the price.”

Sam’s heart was beating wildly in her chest. “What are you talking about? What price?”

Sebastian lowered his voice to her. “I’ll explain later.”

“No, you’ll explain now, Sebastian.”

Ren chuckled. “I told you she wasn’t ready.”

“Shut up, Ren.” Sebastian glowered at him. “She’s not in the club yet. I’m still working with her.”

“Me, in the club? What are you—?”

At that moment, Brynn Adler walked up to their group. “Sebastian, Ren, good to see you two here.”

Sam’s grip on her champagne was getting painful. She was going to explode if someone didn’t straighten out a few things for her.

“Brynn, how wonderful you look.” Ren kissed her cheek. “You must pose for me someday.”

Brynn fondled the strap on her silver gown. Gathered at the waist, and dipping dangerously low, it showed off her daring curves. “I prefer to keep my clothes on, Ren.”

The man’s dark blond eyebrows went up. “What fun would that be?”

Her focus shifted to Sam. “You should have Sam pose for you. I think she would be a much better model.”

Sam almost dropped her champagne. Fortunately, Sebastian slipped his arm around her waist in the nick of time. “Sam won’t be posing for Ren, not if I have any say in the matter.”

Brynn’s green eyes were glued to Sam’s collar. “I’m glad to see Sam is so well taken care of, Sebastian. When you moved in next door to her at The Shallows, I had my doubts.”

“I was just saying the same thing,” Ren spoke up. “I didn’t think he could sway Sam to his way of thinking.”

Sam was getting ready to start hurling profanities. Was everyone aware of the stunt Sebastian had pulled? Were they all Doms, or subs, or members of that strange society?

“That reminds me, Sebastian.” Brynn angled closer to him, showing the curve of her cleavage. “I wanted to ask you about your apartment. If you no longer need it, I was going to rent it out.”

“I don’t plan on going back,” he told her. “I loved the view, but that funny smell in the living room was driving me crazy.”

“What smell?”

“It was a heavy, sweet smell, like a woman wearing too much perfume. I told your handyman, Marv, about it a few times, but he could never find the source.”

Brynn furrowed her smooth brow. “I’ll have to ask him about it. We need to find out the problem before another renter moves in.”

Sebastian dipped his head to Sam. “Sam never had any problems in her place, did you?”

Sam’s mouth dried up. Her eyes darted between Sebastian and Brynn. “Ah, no. No funny smells in my apartment.”

“Are you all right?” Sebastian whispered to her.

Ren stepped up to Brynn’s side. “I don’t see a drink in your hand. I think we need to remedy that situation immediately.”

Brynn laughed as he took her elbow. “You haven’t changed, Ren.”

Ren coiled her hand around his jacket sleeve. “Let’s find the bar, get very drunk, and reminisce about the good ole days, shall we?”  Before he stepped away, Ren glanced to Sebastian. “We’ll talk again, soon.”

Watching Brynn and Ren stroll away, Sam grumbled, “You want to tell me what’s with you and Ren Plancharde?”

“Sam, you need to lower your voice.”

Sam spied the happy revelers at the party. “Brynn’s one of you, isn’t she? She’s a Dom, too.”

“Brynn isn’t like me,” he admitted. “She’s a sub, like you. Or was a long time ago.”

“And Ren Plancharde?”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “He’s just an instigator, not a Dom.”

“What about the things he said about Nathan?”    

“He was talking about something that happened before Nathan disappeared. Brynn suffered cruelly while she was with Nathan Cole. From what I hear, a lot of women did. Ren was referring to Nathan being reprimanded for abuses of The Corde Noire Society rules. That’s all.”

“Are you going to make me a member of this society?” Sam drained the rest of the champagne from her glass.

“No. My days with the Corde Noire Society are over. Ren just doesn’t know it yet.” He took away her empty flute and set it on a passing waiter’s tray. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

After perusing the wide variety of silver chaffing dishes, Sam selected a serving of the trout almandine, while Sebastian went with the crawfish fettuccini with a side of etouffee. Taking a table at the edge of the extensive patio, Sam relaxed … or perhaps it was the two glasses of champagne she had hastily downed.

“Did you go to a lot of parties like this growing up?”

“Yes, had to.” He took another sip of champagne. “The superficiality of these things used to drive me crazy. Still does in a way.” He motioned to his mother, sitting in her wheelchair on the veranda, surrounded by well-wishers. “When she was in the hospital, no one came to see her. Once she was home, her so-called friends stayed away. If the people here tonight only knew what it has taken for her to get this far. All they will talk about tomorrow is how bad she looked, or the wheelchair she was in, never about her progress.”

“You love her a great deal, don’t you?”

He put his glass on the white tablecloth. “She’s my mother. Of course I love her.”

“Just because she’s your mother doesn’t mean she deserves your respect. My mother never had mine. But then again, neither did my father.” She rested her elbows on the table, momentarily mesmerized by the flickering candle inside the crystal centerpiece. “My dad was a lot like your father, except he never left us physically, just emotionally.”

“Your father cared about you, Sam. I’m sure he still does.”

“He never cared, Sebastian. It was all about the show with him, never the substance. Whatever it took to keep people giving money to his church: lie, cheat, steal … sleep with the wives of his congregation members. He did it all.”

Sebastian eased forward in his chair. “The church leader you mentioned that night in my office was your father, wasn’t it? He was the one having affairs on the church’s dime.”

She nodded, clutching her flute. “Nothing like finding out about your father’s infidelity and then having to cover it up by fudging the books. After that night in the fraternity house, I knew he didn’t give a damn about me. I had committed fraud to protect him, but he wouldn’t lift a finger to help me when I needed him most. What kind of parent is that?”

“Sounds like your old man and mine had a lot in common.”

After finishing the last sips of her champagne, Sam set her glass down. “But your father is reaching out to you, Sebastian. I think he hangs around your penthouse to tell you how sorry he is for the way things turned out.”

Sebastian sat back, gaping at her. “Did he tell you that?”

“He doesn’t need to tell me. I’ve felt it since the first day you brought me to your home. And you know what else? He’s not happy about what you are.”

“Are we still talking about my old man’s ghost, or you, Sam?”

Sam wanted to give him a witty reply, but the combination of champagne and her bruised emotions were muddling her mind.

“It’s getting late. We should go.” Pushing back his chair, he stood from the table. Sam rose unsteadily to her feet, making Sebastian grab for her arm. “Can you walk?”

Giggling, she pushed his hand away. The buzz from her champagne was kicking into high gear. “I’m fine.”

His strong arm went around her back. “You’re drunk.”

“Not drunk, tipsy. If I was drunk, I wouldn’t be standing.” She leaned a little too far to the right and wobbled on her high heels. “Maybe I’m a little more than tipsy.”

Instead of scowling, he smiled at her. Shouldn’t he be mad?

“Let’s get you to the car before you hurt yourself.”

With one arm holding her upright, Sebastian removed his phone from his jacket pocket and sent a text.

When they arrived at the entrance on St. Charles Avenue, a limousine pulled up, and Eric jumped out from the driver’s side door.

“Glad you were close by,” Sebastian commented.

Eric hurried to the back passenger door. “Just around the corner, Mr. Dane.”

After they had settled in the back seat, Sam removed her shoes and began rubbing her sore insoles. Sebastian lifted her feet into his lap and took over, working the ache out of her arches.

“That feels good.”

“You did well tonight. I’m proud of you.”

When the car hit a pothole, Sam grabbed her head. “I think that champagne is starting to get to me.”

He let go of her feet and put his arm around her. “I think you’re right.”

“Are you mad at me?”

Pulling away from her, he went to the control panel behind the driver’s seat and punched the button that raised the divider, blocking Eric’s view into the back of the car. Returning to Sam, he wrapped his left arm around her, holding her close. “I can never be mad at you, Sam. Don’t you know that?”