Bonds of Hope Read online

  Bonds of Hope

  By Lynda Aicher

  Book four of Wicked Play

  Quinn Andrews has a lot to learn about the world of BDSM. Once America’s sweetheart, she has an opportunity to revive her career by playing a sexual submissive in a highly anticipated new series. Quinn is ready to throw herself into the role, and her hometown’s premier sex club, The Den, is the ideal place for a crash course.

  At first Marcus Reese is reluctant to take on Quinn’s erotic education, despite his intense attraction to the stunning starlet. While she fulfills his every command perfectly, she’s also a consummate actress—and Marcus is determined to uncover the real woman hidden behind the mask.

  Quinn’s been taking direction all her life, so submitting to a Dom comes easily. But it’s not just the most amazing sex she’s ever had—Marcus challenges her to define her own needs and make her own decisions. And when her training is over, Quinn will have to choose between continuing to play a part in her own life, or living by her own rules.

  New to The Den? Go back to the beginning with Bonds of Trust, available now!

  88,000 words

  Dear Reader,

  Usually I begin these letters with some chatty information, but I’m departing from my norm this time to give you the opportunity to talk to me. At Carina, we’re always discussing our books and making sure we’re meeting your needs—not just with story and content, but also in the way they’re put together. This month, I’d like to reach out to you and ask your opinion on how the Carina Press books utilize the front and back matter. Do you like having the dear reader letter in the front? Would you prefer if it were in the back? Is there something more—excerpts, book lists or other information—we could be providing after the books? We welcome your comments and hope you will reach out to us with your thoughts at [email protected].

  In the meantime, it’s business as usual here at Carina Press headquarters, and that means a lineup of excellent books (no bias here!) for the month of September. We welcome author Jael Wye to Carina Press with her science-fiction fairy-tale retelling, Ice Red, in which the tale of Snow White plays out on the deadly and beautiful planet Mars 300 years in the future. Joining her in launching a new series is return author Nico Rosso, who grabbed my attention the first time he pitched this series to me as “demon rock stars.” Misty is thrown into rock star and immortal demon Trevor Sand’s supernatural world of music, monsters and passion in Heavy Metal Heart.

  More unique voices this month include urban fantasy author R.L. Naquin’s newest Monster Haven novel, Fairies in My Fireplace, as well as Agamemnon Frost and the Hollow Ships, book two of Kim Knox’s male/male science-fiction trilogy.

  Sandy James wraps up her Alliance of the Amazons series with The Volatile Amazon. The Water Amazon leads the Alliance as they face their archenemy in their last and greatest fight. Veronica Scott joins Sandy in the paranormal category with Egypt-set Warrior of the Nile.

  We have multiple releases in the erotic romance genre this month, including Love Letters Volume 5: Exposed, in which the Love Letters ladies strip away everything but the hot truth, and four couples see each other in a tantalizingly revealing new light. Forbidden Obsessions by Jodie Griffin features Bondage & Breakfast owner Gabe McConnell, who finally gets his chance at love when he meets a novice submissive who touches a part of his dominant heart no one else ever has. In Lynda Aicher’s Bonds of Hope, former America’s sweetheart Quinn Andrews has an opportunity to revive her career by playing a sexual submissive in a highly anticipated new TV series. Quinn is ready to throw herself into the role, and sex club The Den is the ideal place for a crash course.

  Also in the erotic romance genre, we’re pleased to welcome author Lise Horton to Carina Press with Words of Lust. A career spent teaching erotic literature does not prepare brainy Professor Serafina Luca for NYC construction foreman Nick Stellato, but his lessons in lust promise to fulfill her wickedest desires, and his promise of love, her wildest dreams.

  For historical romance fans, Alyssa Everett offers up A Tryst with Trouble. The arrogant heir to a dukedom and a blunt-spoken spinster take an instant dislike to each other, but must join forces to solve a murder mystery in this clever regency romp.

  Kaylea Cross returns with another edge-of-your-seat romantic suspense novel, Lethal Pursuit. An air force pararescue jumper and a female security forces officer are locked in an intense battle of wills, but when they’re captured by an enemy warlord, it takes everything they have to survive and fight their way back to friendly lines together. Check out the other books in this series, Deadly Descent and Tactical Strike.

  We’re excited to present Corroded, the next book in Karina Cooper’s St. Croix Chronicles. Now fixated on revenge, bounty hunter Cherry St. Croix must bend all her intellect on catching a murderer—no matter whose help she must ask, and to whose demand she must submit.

  Last, I’m thrilled to announce the release of three debut authors this month. Rebecca Crowley’s contemporary sports romance, The Striker’s Chance, gives us passion on and off the pitch when ambitious PR manager Holly Taylor has to revamp the playboy image of sexy, stubborn professional soccer player Kepler de Klerk. Michelle Witvliet breaks onto the romantic suspense scene with Breaking Protocol. She can’t let go of a tragic past; he faces an uncertain future; so they live in the moment and discover all they really need is each other. And in our new adult lineup, debut author Melissa Guinn offers a new adult romance novel about first love, second chances and learning to let go in Headfirst Falling.

  I hope you enjoy this month’s releases as much as we have, and find them satisfying, remarkable and memorable!

  We love to hear from readers, and you can email us your thoughts, comments and questions to [email protected]. You can also interact with Carina Press staff and authors on our blog, Twitter stream and Facebook fan page.

  Happy reading!

  ~Angela James

  Executive Editor, Carina Press

  www.carinapress.com

  www.twitter.com/carinapress

  www.facebook.com/carinapress

  Dedication

  To my parents, who have always loved me unconditionally. Knowing you were behind me cheering, supporting and encouraging all of my adventures, mishaps and dreams over the years means the world to me. You’ve given me the strength to go after whatever I want, no matter how far-fetched it may seem to be. I love you both. Thank you.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  “I’m sorry,” the oversized bouncer stated with crisp gruffness. “Your name’s not on the list.”

  Quinn Andrews straightened her shoulders and stared the man down. He might be over a foot taller than her and could probably squash her wi
th one swipe of his palm, but she wasn’t running away. “I realize that,” she replied, pulling up the calming tone of a patient mother. “If you would please contact Vanessa Delcour, I’m sure she’ll clear things up.” She flashed her red-carpet smile and belatedly realized the charm was probably lost behind the cat mask.

  “Would you please move to the side, miss?” The overhead light glared off his shiny, bald head and seemed to highlight the dark scowled on his brow. He leaned around her and pointedly looked to the next people in line.

  Undeterred, she leaned with him and tried a different tactic. “It’s really cold. Could I just wait inside until Ms. Delcour gets here?” She tugged her trench coat tighter, gave a mock shiver and opened her eyes wide. The puppy-dog eyes always worked.

  “Oh. My. God.” The not-so-subtle exclamation came from behind her. “This is a private club, lady. Move on.”

  The bouncer had already explained that to her and he didn’t seem interested in repeating it. “Step aside, or I’ll be forced to move you.”

  “I’ll do that for you,” a deep voice boomed. “The little sub could use some discipline.”

  The round of laughter and agreement that followed finally persuaded Quinn, but she gave them all a haughty glare before inching just far enough away to let others pass. The temptation to use her status wasn’t an option now. Not that it had really been before. At this club, it was likely to get another round of ribbing and jokes instead of the access she wanted.

  Of course, that was pretty much true of any club lately. Years of practice held her chin high as she met the eye of everyone who paid her any mind. Most barely spared her a glance on their way into The Den. Membership cards in hand, it only took seconds for the bouncer to swipe the plastic and log their entrance into the computer. It was all very efficient and high-tech. She hadn’t expected a Midwestern leather club to be that hip.

  The stream of people continued at a steady pace, and Quinn’s curiosity was even more intrigued with each costume that passed through the door. Many were hidden behind long coats like her own, but there were a lot of men who’d brazened the October chill in nothing more than a leather harness and pants. Only she didn’t know if those were Halloween costumes or not. Her internet research had shown outfits like that as normal BDSM wear.

  Quinn pulled out her cell phone and tried calling her contact one more time. When the call rolled into voicemail, she disconnected and typed another text to Vanessa. She’d never met the woman, but her publicist had assured her she was sharp, professional and the best PR manager in Minneapolis.

  And how that skill applied to a sex club, Quinn wasn’t sure. But if the steady line of people was any indication of the woman’s abilities, then maybe she should think of hiring Vanessa for herself. Given that the building was nothing more than a brick warehouse with a simple gray door and a sign with The Den on it, it wasn’t the flash that was drawing the people in.

  Quinn shivered and was almost ready to declare defeat when a slim, raven-haired beauty dressed in a royal blue corset, a long black skirt and four-inch heels appeared behind the broad bouncer. Her dark locks were piled high on her head in a lavish coil of curls that descended down her neck in inviting twists and ringlets. It was a look Quinn had only achieved with the help of her high-paid stylist.

  The women spoke briefly to the bouncer then turned a beaming smile at her. “Quinn?”

  “Yes.” She forced her feet to move forward and extended her hand. “I assume you’re Vanessa.”

  Vanessa’s grip was firm when she shook Quinn’s hand. “Yes. I’m sorry about the confusion,” she offered as she escorted Quinn into the club. “I wasn’t expecting you until Monday.”

  The woman was a few inches taller than Quinn’s own pint-sized self. At five foot one, her height had allowed her to play child roles longer than most. Now, it was a hindrance that she tried to mitigate with heels. An accessory her manager told her to never leave home without.

  “I know.” Quinn kept her smile soft and her eyes on the commanding woman before her. “I apologize. But I thought this would be a great chance to see the club without being seen.” She pointed to the cat mask.

  “Of course. But you have our guarantee that your identity will always be protected while you’re here.” Vanessa’s smile was both warm and forceful. It was a mix most women couldn’t successfully pull off. At least not in Quinn’s experiences. Hollywood’s cutthroat society didn’t cater to kindness unless it benefited them. “Let’s check your stuff and we can talk.”

  “Right.” Quinn took a breath and made her way to the coat check.

  Around them, others talked and mingled over the loud boom of the music that rose and fell through the lobby each time the door to the main room opened. Her items were tagged and stored with a buxom brunette who was stuffed into a shiny red latex dress. The woman attached a thick black band displaying a red light to Quinn’s wrist before Quinn was subjected to a rundown of rules as a visitor, including that the red light on the band meant she wasn’t allowed to participate in activities beyond the red doors, whatever that meant.

  When she was finished, Vanessa led her down a hallway off the main lobby. Quinn was under no illusion that the people moving seamlessly out of their way were deferring to her. There’d been a time when many had done that, but now it was for Vanessa.

  The woman emitted a vibe that said she didn’t take crap from anyone, yet it was underscored with an elegance and grace that reminded Quinn of a Victorian queen. One she’d bow to in a heartbeat—if this were a stage production, of course. Next to Vanessa, the formfitting, sleek cat suit Quinn had thought was sexy and daring felt childish. Exactly the image she was trying to dispel.

  It didn’t matter. She pushed her shoulders back, tilted her chin and followed the poised PR manager with a haughty stride of her own. One that had her long cat tail swishing with each step.

  “Can I offer you a drink?” Vanessa asked once they were enclosed in a private sitting room.

  “No, thank you.” Quinn’s throat was suddenly parched, but she refused to acknowledge it. It’d been drilled into her long ago that the social etiquette during a business meeting was only a pleasantry and not meant as an actual offer.

  “Let’s have a seat then.”

  Quinn sat on the edge of the slick leather loveseat and made a discreet glance around the room. The sophisticated décor of deep greens and burgundies was unexpected and deviated once again from her previous thinking of what a leather club would be like. The space was nicer than many of the dingy meeting rooms of her directors.

  Vanessa sat across from her in a matching leather chair and crossed her legs. The skirt parted to reveal a long length of toned leg that reached all the way to her panties, if she was wearing any. Not that Quinn was either. That was yet another thing she’d learned to accept. Panty lines of any kind were a fashion code taboo punishable by tabloid syndication.

  “Your manager sent me all of the signed documents and agreements.” Vanessa paused and studied Quinn with a perception that she was unaccustomed to. Most people only glazed over her after making a visual judgment. “Did you read them?”

  “Yes.” She refused to squirm.

  “Really?” The tone of the woman’s voice said the inquisition had begun. “Then tell me the terms of the agreement.”

  Quinn smiled. This wasn’t the first time someone had made an assumption about her intelligence based on the roles she’d played. They were almost always wrong and she relished this next part. “It’s a one-week agreement where a member of The Den staff will walk me through the ins and outs of the BDSM world. I’ll receive instruction on terms, tools, usage, play, et cetera while also observing the acts. At no time will my identity be revealed or leaked, nor will I be forced to do anything I don’t want to. The contract can be cancelled at any time by either party for any reason that breaches the above terms.”

  The slow smirk that curled over Vanessa’s lips reminded her of a proud parent. “That was almost verbat
im. What other surprises do you have for us?”

  “What do you mean?” The question threw her. Most people got angry or put out after Quinn pulled the memory stunt. A minor trick ingrained from learning scripts since she was eight. “I’m here to learn. Nothing more.”

  Vanessa laughed, a rich, full roll that was somehow sexy and provocative. That woman would make a fortune in Hollywood. She’d have the male-dominated establishment eating out of her hand. “I understand this is in preparation for a new role, right? One that starts filming in December?”

  “Yes. I...” Quinn wet her lips then mentally cringed. That was such a tell. Her mother would’ve admonished her as soon as they left room if she’d seen it. “I’ll be playing the part of a submissive in a club much like this one, from what I understand.”

  “And that makes you nervous?”

  The laugh that shot from Quinn’s chest could probably be described as a burst of anxiety. She covered it with a shake of head. “Not really,” she bluffed. “But I know nothing of the world or role and want to prepare myself so I can portray it accurately.”

  The soft hum said Vanessa didn’t believe her. Not entirely at least. She stood abruptly, her skirt swirling around her legs. “Your official time with us doesn’t start ’til Monday, but since you’re here, I’ll show you around.” She moved to the door, and Quinn hurried to follow. “In case you didn’t know, it’s our grand reopening. The club’s been closed for two months for renovations, plus it’s Halloween. The crowd is likely to be a bit more wild and demonstrative than normal.”

  Quinn swallowed. “What does that mean?”

  Vanessa grinned then opened the door but didn’t exit. “It means you’re going to get more of a show than I think you’re expecting. Try to keep your mouth from gaping and your opinions to yourself. Whatever you witness is all consensual and desired by our members. Judgments and ridicule are not allowed. Understood?”

  “Of course.” Quinn resented being chastised for actions she hadn’t committed. She wanted to say more, but yet again her training ruled and decorum prevailed.