An Italian Dom guides a Swiss banker through the world of BDSM and she threatens his most important rule.
Sparked by curiosity and drawn by need, Swiss banker Claire asks Italian businessman Luca to introduce her to the D/s lifestyle. He agrees, as long as she abides by his number one rule of not falling in love. The two then embark on a slow, complete and realistic path of liberating Claire’s true submissive nature.
But as their lessons progress, blurred lines morph into a child’s scribbled drawing when feelings creep into their playtime. And with new emotions bubbling under the surface, Luca questions Claire’s hard no. She calls “red” and walks away, leaving the Dom sure he’s lost the one sub who finally saw his true desire to be cared for.
Now, certain she’s broken his only rule and torn by thoughts of betraying her dead husband, Claire must decide between exploring the love she’s found or locking away her heart with the ghosts of her past.
|Publisher:||Totally Entwined Group|
|Sold by:||Barnes & Noble|
|File size:||1 MB|
About the Author
Deana Birch was named after her father’s first love, who just so happened not to be her mother. Born and raised in the Midwest, she made stops in Los Angeles and New York before settling in Europe, where she lives with her own blue-eyed Happily Ever After. Her days are spent teaching yoga, playing tennis, ruining her children’s French homework, cleaning up dog vomit, writing her next book or reading someone else’s.
Books, coffee, and chocolate make up both the heart and body mass that is better known as Amelia Foster. She has been a lifelong lover of the written word, both as a reader and an author, and completed her first manuscript at the ripe old age of five, complete with illustrations. Sadly, her art was a medium that never improved over time, although thankfully her writing has.
From sweet to salacious, the only requirement Amelia has in books she reads – and definitely in the ones she crafts – is an excessively satisfying happily ever after… and then a little bit more.
Read an Excerpt
Copyright © Deana Birch&Amelia Foster 2019. All Rights Reserved, Totally Entwined Group Limited, T/A Totally Bound Publishing.
A silver foil wrapper tumbled down the stone walkway along the Limmat River, and Luca stepped to the side, his arms crossed. A giggling young couple with too many piercings for his personal preference hurried by, unaware of the menacing, forgotten paper. In his dark suit, crisp white shirt and matching silk navy tie, he waited.
The improperly disposed-of litter flopped one more time, trapped itself at the edge of the stone wall and, away from the light breeze, rested. Satisfied by his small conquest—surely it was his will that had brought its journey to an end—Luca smirked. He walked over, picked it up and secured its fate in a wire bin. A pestering thought of germs poked at his side, but he brushed his hands together at a job well done and continued on his path to the private bank.
While the inconvenience had been a distraction, it had been welcomed. Early and eager were two qualities he admired, but not in himself. He reached for the door of the gray, historic building at exactly seven minutes past his scheduled appointment. Perfetto.
After a brief check through security, including a confirmation of his identity, he climbed the two flights of stairs to the private bank of Steinmetz and Favre.
The heavy wooden doors of the suite opened to sleek metal-and-cream marble that created a stark contrast to the building’s dated exterior. But the interior did not surprise Luca. He’d already seen the clean, powerful reception in the magazine article about the youngest woman entrepreneur in the history of private banking.
And it was no mistake he’d sought out Claire Favre. Young, driven and on-the-rise was exactly the kind of mind he wanted handling his soon-to-be-acquired secret business. The piece about her and her partner in the weekly publication inserted into the Sunday paper had done more than pique his interest. Fortunately, Luca’s reputation and family history had provided enough of a motivation that he’d obtained an appointment without too much delay.
He gave his name to the young, just-above-cheap-suited man behind the massive desk and took a seat in the black leather club chair. Magazines in four different languages were fanned on the iron table next to him. He aligned the one on top to sync with the others and the rhythmed echo of high heels ricocheting off the hallowed walls made him look up.
The picture had done her no justice. Claire Favre’s sharp hip bones pointed behind the fabric of her tight black skirt and they swayed in a hypnotizing motion as she drew nearer. The formfitting blazer matched the skirt, and a pink silk blouse formed a deep V below. Different from the photo, where her blonde locks had been loose and casual as she’d smiled, her hair was now pulled back into a low, tight bun and her lips remained firmly locked together.
Luca stood, happy his height put him at an advantage, and buttoned his jacket at the waist. The momentary shock of her in-person beauty sank into his gut. It had no business in his throat or chest.
“Herr Bernardi.” She extended her small, manicured hand but barely smiled.
“English, please.” Luca ignored the slight jump in his heart rate as they touched.
“As you wish.” Her light shrug remained formal.
Surely a coincidence.
He narrowed his eyes.
Ms. Favre’s smile grew tighter and she spun around. “My office is just down the hall.”
Luca followed the banker and stared at the back of her exposed neck. He would not check out her ass, not in a professional setting where the woman deserved respect. He would not.
He did. He most certainly did. And damn it all to hell and back if his palm didn’t twitch with desire.
When the penance of being a gentleman and walking behind a woman to whom he owed respect—not ogling—had finished, he squared his shoulders at the threshold of her office and renewed his purpose—business.
Ms. Favre ushered him to a cubed leather chair opposite her desk and he reached for the button of his jacket while she floated to the other side of the impressive oak plank.
A quick glance of her surroundings revealed nothing—no framed photos of her and the late husband the article had referred to or children it had not hinted at. Truly nothing. This woman was clean, uncomplicated and professional—everything Luca desired in a banker…and perhaps other things.
“Please,” she said and motioned to the seat behind him. With a quick brush on the back of her skirt—is hand jealousy a thing?—she gracefully sat. “Tell me what brings you here, Mr. Bernardi.”
Where to begin? The long and challenging path of fully respecting and refining one’s own needs? The obvious motivation of a man-made success? Best to start with the not-so-shocking. One never knows.
In the warmest, most casual tone he could muster he said, “I am in negotiations to buy a business. A private club, actually. And I was hoping to keep said investment separate from my others.”
Her blue-gray gaze pierced him and she drew her light, thin eyebrows together. “You have a business you’d like to hide, and you want to use my bank to do so?”
“No.” Convincing her was going to take some massaging, especially since the bulk of his wealth would not be coming along for the ride. “I have a business I’d like to keep to myself, but I’d like you to handle investing and growing the worth of the account.”
Claire crossed her fingers on the desk and circled a thumb slowly into the opposite palm.
“Is it an illegal business?” she asked.