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Alain downed the last of his wine and pushed his half-eaten meal away. “Let’s call it a day. Start afresh in the morning.”

Maxime frowned at his watch. “It’s early yet.”

“You can keep going.” Alain stood and took Grace by the elbow, ushering her to her feet. “But Grace and I are going to retire for the evening.”

“I’m okay.” Grace squared her shoulders. “Maxime’s right. It’s not late.” She pasted a smile on her face, no more authentic than sparkling wine masquerading as champagne. “Another coffee and I’ll be raring to go.”

“No.” This was his mate. He would see to her needs. All of them. “We’re done here for the day. Come on, Grace.”

Maxime stroked his throat, his gaze never leaving the pair of them, but he didn’t say a word. With his palm on the small of her back, Alain guided Grace from the hall. She didn’t protest again. He’d be smug at her capitulation if he weren’t so concerned about her state of mind.

He closed the door on Maxime pouring a generous amount of cognac into a glass, his alpha’s envy so thick in the air it almost choked him. Poor connard. But Maxime wasn’t his concern right now. Grace was.

He led her away from the main part of the house, down a long corridor.

“Where are we going?” She pointed back toward the main staircase. “The room Nathalie set me up in is back that way.”

“I had Maxime move us to the east wing.”

He’d kept his plans for her front and center in his mind all day, a barrier to the evil they’d been reading. Sitting beside her, wanting to toss her over his shoulder, Cordelia, the pack, everything be damned, had been a testament to his control.

He needed her on her knees. She needed it. To let go, to hand all her cares and her fears to him. Let him take her to a place where pleasure reigned—her pleasure—and there was no place for anything else. Alain could take her there, take away her burdens. If she let him. And he needed that with a desperation so intense it threatened to crawl out of his chest and grab him by the throat. But when she was like this, so brittle and fragile, as though she might break if he pushed her too hard and too fast…

Slow and steady.

He opened the doors to the east wing into an elegant, private living area, the lights dimmed to a soft, warm glow. Not giving Grace a moment to retreat, he pushed through a second set of double doors that opened onto the main suite, and his cock about punched through his zipper. There on the bed were the tools he’d asked for. A blindfold, a set of leather restraints, a leg spreader bar, a wand vibrator and a flogger. On the bedside table, two bottles of water and a plate of snacks—dark chocolate squares and salted crackers. Nathalie had come through for him. She’d found everything he’d asked for.

Thank you, Nathalie. I owe you.

There was every chance they would remain untouched tonight, but he was going to give it his best shot. He’d been a Dom for a lot of years. A good Dom, and he would bring all of his not inconsiderable experience to bear. To read her, to give her what she needed. Grace’s attention snagged on the items on the bed, and there was a little catch in her throat, and a subtle jump of her pulse. He’d start slow. Let her responses guide him.

He continued through a third door into the sumptuous bathroom with the lights turned low and a bathtub big enough for two. It was filled with steaming hot water, bubbles and rose petals, the room swirling with the scents of lavender, jasmine and rose. Perfect. Right now, seeing the hint of a smile on Grace’s lips, he’d hand over his entire collection of grand cru wines to Nathalie without a second thought if she asked him.

Alain closed the door and locked it. Not that anyone was likely to disturb them, but it had the desired effect on Grace. Her pulse was racing and her breathing was a little shallower. She wouldn’t look at him—her gaze darted around the room, unable to settle on anything. She would. He’d give her something to focus on.

He slipped off his jacket and unlaced his boots, toeing them off in the corner. His socks and his shirt joined them. He hid a grin. Now she was looking at him, and the heat from her gaze could set the world on fire. His world. He reached for the zipper on his pants.

“What…what are you doing?” She backed away from him, but she didn’t move toward the door and that was telling.

“Today has been a tough day for you.” Alain hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his pants. “I’m going to give you what you need to ease your mind.” What she didn’t know she needed, but it was there in the parting of her lips and the squeezing of her thighs.

Alain shucked his pants and stood before her, naked and aroused.

Grace’s pupils doubled in size. “Mother Francis, Judas Priest.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

He was naked. And…and…aroused. Her mind emptied of everything else but Alain. Standing there with his perfect abs, the dusting of dark hair trailing over his chest and into a thin line, pointing like an arrow at… She swallowed. She didn’t have a lot of experience with men, but… Was he a little on the…large side? She couldn’t take her eyes off it. Her skin warmed and her mouth went dry. A man as confident as Alain would know what to do with a weapon like that.

Grace clenched and unclenched her hands. He’d know what to do with those things on the bed, too. His…toys. Good golly, Miss Molly. It was like a bunch of jumping jack firecrackers had taken up residence inside her. She shifted her attention to the bath and its beckoning warmth and scented bubbles. But she found no respite there. How could she think about comfort and pleasure when her mama— Her throat clamped tight.

“Take your clothes off, Grace.”

“Wha— I— Um…” She shook off her confusion. “What did you say?”

“I said, take. Your. Clothes. Off.”

His voice was soft, but there was no mistaking the command. She trembled in the face of it, wanting to do as he asked, and yet afraid to.