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of any near-death experience with his Porsche, but she’ll probably not see it that way. Still, that’s a problem for another day.
    He shrugs. “Jack’ll phone when it’s ready. If you need a car in the meantime you can borrow one of mine. The Discovery might suit you.”
    He doesn’t offer to lend his precious vehicles to just anyone. And with the Porsche out of commission he might need the Disco himself. He can’t help thinking she might have the grace to look just a little bit grateful. Instead, she’s all excuses, insisting she wants her own clapped out Mini back. Not happening. His tone is sharper than he intended as he dismisses that fanciful notion.
    “That bloody car wasn’t roadworthy even before you decided to use it as a roadblock, so don’t go getting your hopes up.”
    He immediately regrets his curtness as her face takes on that stricken look he’s noticed more than once. Christ, it’s only a car, and a crap one at that. What’s the big deal? Still, he won’t get her on her back with her legs spread by upsetting her, and he’s grateful for Mrs Richardson’s timely intervention. With a snort of derision he contemplates what it’ll cost to make that car of hers halfway safe to drive. Wondering not for the first time why he wants to bother, he leaves it to the housekeeper to soothe and unruffle Eva as he makes a mental note to think before he speaks.
    And to get a bloody grip. How hard can it be, really, to get one little music teacher into bed? Or more specifically, tied to his bed?
    Eva’s taken a seat at the table next to Grace, and she and his housekeeper are now discussing shopping. It seems the lovely Miss Byrne’s wardrobe requires replenishing. Well, no argument from him on that one—it’s her nude body he’s most interested in, but some sexy little tops and slinky underwear would be very acceptable too. Suddenly all his senses hit red alert as she goes on to suggest getting her hair cut. Over his dead body!
    He knows he’s now bolt upright, and glaring at her—so much for playing nice—but Miss Byrne pretends not to notice his reaction to her announcement as she starts to plan a shopping excursion to Leeds.
    Leeds! Eureka!
    Why the fuck didn’t he think of that earlier. Get her to Leeds. His apartment in Leeds. His apartment in Leeds where he keeps his toys and his equipment, his bondage gear, his not unimpressive collection of whips and canes and well, everything really. Leeds. Yes!
    “I’ll take you.” His tone is sharp still, despite his good intentions, and both pairs of eyes swivel in his direction. He ignores the housekeeper though, his gaze intent as he pins the lovely Miss Byrne in place with his look, his stern Dom look, perfected and finely honed over the years. Never fails. She looks startled, scared even. And puzzled. He decides the former is good, for now, and opts to deal with the latter.
    “To Leeds. I’ll drive you there.”
    That suggestion seems about as popular as a rat sandwich. Eva’s expression is one of panic, sheer horror. She tries to demur, to put him off. No way is he having that. Sensing he’s found the chink he was looking for he moves in for the attack.
    His tone is deliberately smooth, soft as he replies, pressing home his advantage. “No trouble. Not today though, next week.”
    She’s frowning, confused, uncertain how to react.
    Absolutely gorgeous.
    His cock responds, thickening and hardening within the extreme confines of his jeans. He can’t resist reaching out his hand to gently stroke the creases between her eyebrows, his practiced Dom expression telling her to stay still, not to move. And she obeys. Dear Christ, she obeys him. How beautifully, how effortlessly submissive. He decides to press on with this, test the waters some more, find out how she responds to his instructions, to his rules.
    “There, that’s better. Please try not to frown at me every time I talk to you. I’ve told you before, I don’t like it.” His tone is