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F aith pulled up to the gate guarding the driveway to the large house looming up the hill. When she drew abreast of the small security box, she rolled down her window and leaned out to push the button.
“Can I help you?” a polite voice inquired.
She breathed in nervously. “I have an appointment. My name is Faith Malone.”
“Please proceed, Miss Malone.”
The gate slowly swung open, and she started forward, accelerating up the winding lane. When she pulled up to the house, she saw a secluded parking lot, not visible from the entrance. A large brick wall covered with ivy separated the lot from the sprawling front lawn.
She drove around the partition and eased into a parking spot beside a sleek Mercedes. As she got out and surveyed the array of very expensive cars, she glanced self-consciously back at her Honda Accord.
What kind of people gathered here? Were they all rich, bored types looking for cheap thrills?
“Nothing like making sweeping generalizations,” she muttered as she headed for the double wooden doors ahead.
Before she could raise the heavy knocker, the door swung open, and she found herself staring at a good-looking, well-dressed man. Okay, not just good-looking, but very good-looking.
He smiled broadly at her. “You must be Faith.” He held his hand out to her. “I’m Damon.”
She took his hand, shook it and smiled in return. She felt some of her nervousness dissipate. “I’m so glad to meet you. I feel as though I know you with all the e-mails we’ve exchanged in the last week.”
He chuckled then gestured for her to enter. “Please, come in.”
She walked in ahead of him and paused, waiting for him to go in front of her. The foyer was elegantly decorated, the lighting dim enough to make the interior look warm and inviting but not so dark as to give off a sinister aura.
Damon walked up beside her and placed a hand to her back. “If you’ll come this way, our first stop will be the sitting room where you can relax for a moment and have a drink.”
He ushered her into a smaller room just beyond the foyer. The inside was classy yet comfortable. A large Oriental rug stretched across highly polished wood floors, ending just in front of a dark brown leather couch. To the right sat two overstuffed casual chairs, the kind that would swallow you up whole as soon as you sat down.
“Why don’t you have a seat. Would you care for a glass of wine?”
Faith nodded and started toward one of those comfy-looking chairs.
“By the way, I like what you decided to wear very much.”
She turned around, her cheeks heating as she saw his gaze slide up and down her bare legs. Damon’s lips lifted in a half smile before he walked over to the wall and pressed a button on what looked to be an intercom system.
She glanced down at the form-fitting skirt that clipped her legs about two inches above her knee. The shoes, well, she had to admit, they were purely for show. In a moment of pure weakness, she’d spent a hell of a lot of money on the sex-on-a-sole shoes.
But they made her feel sexy, vibrant and a little bad. Okay, a whole lot bad. With a tiny grin, she sank into the soft leather chair and forced herself to relax.
Damon joined her a few seconds later. Moments after he sat down on the couch across from her chair, the door opened, and a man who looked every bit the butler out of some stodgy English movie walked in carrying a serving tray.
He bent and offered her one of the crystal flutes. Her eyes widened, and she smiled at the oh-so-proper man. She was only a little disappointed that he didn’t have a British accent.
She took a glass and lifted it to her nose to inhale the aroma of the wine. The butler offered Damon a glass next then inclined his head toward Faith and retreated from the room.
“I’m guessing most of your clients are higher end,” Faith said before sipping the wine.
Damon chuckled. “It’s all about appearances. If you want to attract the right clientele, you have to establish yourself on their level.”
“You certainly dress the part,” she said dryly, her gaze moving up and down his expensive silk shirt and designer slacks.
He smiled lazily at her. “Are you comfortable here?”
She blinked at his sudden change of topic. After a moment’s thought, she realized she wasn’t nearly as nervous as she had been. But then this was probably part of the game plan. Ply the potential member with booze until they were too soused to worry about what they were getting into.
A giggle escaped her at that thought.
Damon looked at her in amusement. “You truly are as delightful in person as you came across on the phone and in your e-mails. I was prepared to be disappointed. I’m glad I wasn’t.”
Faith blushed, her cheeks warming under his scrutiny.
He leaned forward and set his glass on the mahogany coffee table. “The House is divided into two levels. The lower level is where all the socializing occurs. We invite a very relaxed, laidback atmosphere. Rooms are set up for patrons to mingle, talk, get to know each other. We have strict guidelines for what occurs on the main level.”
She pressed the rim of the glass to her lips and took a long swallow of the wine. Flutters abounded in her stomach as she listened. It was real. She was really here about to dive headfirst into…what? She wasn’t even sure.
“The second level is where the action is, so to speak. There are a variety of rooms. Some private. Some open to the public. There is a main room, quite large, where the space is divided into different sections. This is the common area, where you’ll find a variety of activities concentrated in one place. Some of our patrons enjoy the public aspect of it while others prefer and demand strict privacy. We accommodate both.”
She leaned forward, her interest alive, her curiosity insatiable. “And what happens in these public areas?”
Damon smiled. “Anything and everything. You must prepare yourself for any possibility. The House is a place to let your inhibitions fly away. When you step through our doors, you are free to become someone else entirely, or, as I suspect in your case, embrace who you really are. No one is judged here. We are very open and accepting of all lifestyles.”
“And the membership qualifications,” Faith began. “You said they were stringent. I assume this means that members are screened and that the ‘activities’ here are monitored for safety?”
“Excellent question,” Damon said, his eyes flaring with approval. “Our members do go through a strenuous screening process. We require extensive background checks. No one with any criminal record, regardless of charge, is allowed membership.
“All rooms are monitored by our staff. For those congregating in the public areas, staff members maintain a presence at all times. For the members who prefer private accommodations, well, even then they aren’t afforded complete privacy because we have surveillance cameras installed in each room, and a staff member closely monitors them at all times.
“Not only are we dedicated to providing an environment where members may play out their fantasies and lifestyle choices, but we absolutely guarantee the safety of each and every participant.”
Her eyes widened. “That seems a lot to guarantee.”
Damon nodded. “Yes, but we are one hundred percent committed to keeping that promise. We do not hesitate to step in if we feel the situation is unsafe for one or more members.”
Faith was impressed by his confidence and his air of authority. In fact, he managed to make her feel not so much like a weird freak sneaking around some seedy sex club looking for cheap thrills.
“Are you ready for your tour?” he asked.
She swallowed and set her glass down on the coffee table. “Yes. Yes, I think I am.”
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