A Touch of Autumn Read online

  Ignoring his laughter, she turned on her heel and opened another door, praying that it lead to the servants’ quarters. The narrow corridor looked less imposing than the rest of the mansion. Hearing voices, she hurried in their direction, praying that the Russian wouldn’t decide to follow her. Pretending to be her sister was proving to be a lot harder than she had anticipated.

  Through a glass paneled door she caught a glimpse of a handful of people chatting around a scrubbed wooden table. Three men wore striped waistcoats signaling they were Hermione’s footmen. A middle-aged woman with a white apron poured coffee into Andy’s cup. The look of frank adoration in her eyes made Sinead shake her head in disbelief. She was old enough to be his mother. What was it with these guys Niall employed? Did someone feed them testosterone for breakfast?

  As she stood at the doorway the conversation turned to the female guests. Apparently, being invited to join a private scene was a perk of working for Hermione. One of the men made a ribald remark about threesomes before asking Andy, “So, any action with you and the red-head?”

  Andy stretched back in his chair. “Well, now that you mention it, she’s pretty voracious in bed. It’s almost impossible to satisfy her. She likes to …”

  Sinead was tempted to see just what kind of a story Andy would invent, but Niall and Killy were waiting. It was time to break-up the party. When she pushed the door open, the footmen stood up and the cook hurriedly turned her attention to the black range that was set into the cavernous fireplace.

  “You.” She pointed at Andy. “I want you upstairs.”

  One of the footmen gave Andy a look that was tinged with envy.

  “Yes, Mistress,” Andy replied in a tone that was almost servile but the skin around his eyes crinkled with laughter. He really was a very bad submissive. Sinead doubted that any woman could break him. Her inner imp rose to the surface. No mistress could ignore a challenge like that.

  “Oh, and you can leave the uniform jacket here. You won’t be needing it.”

  “Yes, Mistress.” He hadn’t been expecting that. Andy held her gaze as he unbuttoned the tunic of his uniform slowly and folded it over the chair. He really was incorrigible.

  She waited patiently as he unbuttoned his shirt and placed it on top of the tunic and suppressed a grin as she saw the cook drinking her fill of Andy’s perfectly honed torso.

  Sinead feigned impatience. “Leave the pants and boots on. You can take them off later.”

  She left the room and had almost reached the end of the corridor before Andy caught up with her. “I know that Niall’s not into threesomes, so what’s up?”

  “Someone called Killy arrived in our room. He said that WWIII’s about to start.”

  “Fuck,” Andy muttered. “We better hurry.”

  Niall glared at Andy as he entered the bedroom. What the hell was he doing running around the Chateau bare-chested? “Put some clothes on,” he snapped.

  “Yes, boss.” But he noticed Andy giving Sinead the evil eye and she giggled at him. Andy snagged one of Niall’s shirts and shrugged into it. “What's the situation?”

  Good, Niall was a lot more comfortable when Andy was fully dressed. McTavish was one of his best operatives on sting operations that involved women, and he was way too comfortable with ladies ogling him. He wasn't sure exactly why Andy had been shirtless when he arrived, but he suspected Sinead had something to do with it. No way was he letting Andy stroll around half-naked in the presence of his lady.

  Sinead might not know it, and would fight like hell to avoid acknowledging it, but she was his, and she could forget about other men.

  “Er, I don't think we should be telling too many people about this,” Killy said. He was carefully avoiding looking at Sinead, but his meaning was clear.

  “I trust both of them completely,” Niall said flatly.

  “If you're sure.”

  “So?” Sinead drew the word out. She was doing a good job of holding her tongue, and Niall knew it was driving her mad. She hated not knowing everything.

  “Killy has invented a working Flux Capacitor,” Niall told them.

  Andy whistled.

  Sinead scrunched her brows together. “A what?”

  The men stared at her. “You've never heard of a flux capacitor?”

  “It might have been mentioned on the Big Bang Theory,” she said.

  “You've never seen that awesome scene in Back to the Future where Doc throws some old banana skins into the Flux Capacitor and it powers his car? Come on, it’s a classic,” he said.

  She shook her head. “Sorry, must have been before my time.” Sinead was twenty-seven.

  Oh God, Niall was only thirty-five, but suddenly felt old. “Basically, what a flux capacitor does is turn crap into clean nuclear energy.”

  Killy protested. “That's a gross over-simplification. You have to take into account the ...”

  Niall held up his hand. “I appreciate that. But it's the simplest way to explain the problem.”

  “Why is that a problem?” Sinead asked. “Surely clean nuclear energy is a good thing?”

  “As long as you’re not a major oil company,” Niall pointed out.

  She winced, seeing the problem.

  “And that's not the worst. It could also be used to produce nuclear weapons. Every country with a grudge would be able to kill millions of their opponents.”

  She rounded on Killy. “Why would you invent something like that?”

  He took a step back, startled by her vehemence. “I'm a theoretical physicist. I don't invent things, I prove truths, and it’s up to the engineers to turn them into working models. It just so happened that my work on cold fusion is so simple and elegant that almost anyone could use it. I hadn't planned to do anything with it until I had resolved the moral issues, but somehow word has leaked out.”

  He passed the blackmail note to Sinead and Andy.

  She took it from his hand and read it quickly before handing it to Andy. “Do you have the USB they’re talking about?” she asked.

  He nodded and patted the heavy bracelet he wore. It flipped open to show a small USB stick. “I couldn't risk anyone else getting it.”

  Niall took charge when he saw that Sinead was in danger of playing with the bracelet. “Clearly we need to catch the blackmailers, and make sure we stop them.”

  “What about setting up a sting at the masked ball tonight?” Andy asked. He was obviously fed up pretending to be a chauffeur and was salivating at the chance for action. “Catch the bad guys in the act.”

  Niall nodded. “Good idea. I'm too tall, but you're about the same size as Killy, maybe a bit less bulky, but we can pass you off as him. You can be at the hand-over point, and we'll catch them then.”

  “Ahem.” Sinead coughed. What were they playing at? They were here to find her sister, not play at being detectives. “Have you forgotten why we’re here?”

  Niall gave her a warning look, telling her to be quiet.

  “Yes,” Andy interrupted, “I heard them talking about it in the servants’ hall. Hermione has gone to a lot of trouble to put on a show for her guests. There’s going to be a man-hunt in the forest this afternoon.”

  “A hunt?” Niall’s eyes narrowed. “Perfect. We’ll go watch and you can stay behind and search the guest rooms.”

  “But there must be over forty guests here.” Killy said.

  Andy reached for his jacket and pulled out a hand-written list. “I got this downstairs. Thirty seven guests, and another hundred and fifty are invited to the ball tonight, but we can probably dismiss most of them. Only a handful would be interested in your research.”

  Niall took the list from him. “We’ve got two government ministers, an energy lobbyist and a couple of bad boy east Europeans who like to play dirty. Start with them, Andy.”

  “Will do,” Andy said “I’ll borrow a footman’s uniform. No one notices a servant.”

  Outside in the corridor, a gong sounded. Killy’s head jerked at the sound. “Sou
nds likes it’s starting soon. I better get back to Mimi.”

  When Andy and Killy were gone, Niall sighed. “Sorry, this weekend is turning out to be more complicated than I imagined.”

  He closed the distance between them and cupped her face in his broad hands before brushing his lips against hers and Sinead arched into his embrace. Through the thin silk of the kimono she could feel the hard muscles of his abdomen. She opened her mouth, brushing her tongue against his. She could kiss him for hours. They had been so close earlier, maybe they had time to…

  Niall pulled away. “I haven’t forgotten about your sister. I’ve got my team working on finding her. When this is over I promise that—“

  A tap on the door interrupted him and Sinead shook her head in frustration. Their room was busier than Gare de Lyon at rush hour.

  “Je suis desolé, this should have been delivered to you earlier,” the maid said as she laid the clothing on the bed. “Madame Hermione requests your presence downstairs in the salon in fifteen minutes.”

  Sinead whistled. Andy was right. Hermione had spared no expense to entertain her guests. The scarlet hunting jacket was a stark contrast to the pale jodhpurs and white shirt. Luckily she had packed some black leather boots which would be perfect with it.

  “Well, at least I get to wear clothes this time,” Niall said ruefully as he looked at the green army issue t-shirt and camouflage pants.

  “Pity,” she muttered under her breath. She would have preferred to finish what they had started earlier. If she really was his Domme, she could have insisted on it, but she would never have the confidence to do that. She only hoped that he was suffering as much as she was.

  Sinead dressed and twisted her long hair into a neat bun which she covered with a fine hairnet before she put on her velvet riding hat. When she was finished she caught a glimpse of their reflections in the mirror. She looked like the prim and proper lady of the manor while Niall was every inch the rough, tough soldier he was.

  Their eyes met in the mirror and Niall didn’t bother to hide his hunger for her. “You know, I’ve always had this fantasy about spanking a woman wearing jodhpurs.”

  Sinead laughed. He had taken her to the edge and left her hanging. She couldn’t resist teasing him in return. “Really? Well, maybe later, but only if we win.”

  She raced to the door, but before she could open it, Niall had caught her. He spun her around and pinned her against the door, with her wrists captured above her head in one of his hands. His breath fanned her cheek. “Is that a challenge, Ms O’Sullivan?”

  The heat in his gaze made her nipples peak behind the confines of her riding jacket. With his free hand, he stroked the length of her body and cupped her ass, drawing her against him. “Before the night is over, this will be mine.”

  Chapter Three

  Downstairs in the salon, the mistresses clustered around a table laid with riding crops of all kinds. Killy’s mistress, Mimi Lorenzo tapped a short crop experimentally against her palm, admiring the quality. Sinead had never imagined that her childhood love of horses would come in useful. She picked up a red-handled dressage whip. That would do very nicely.

  “Ah, the expert has arrived,” Mimi said. “You will have to give me a few tips.”

  “Excuse me.” A dark-haired woman barged between them and grabbed a plaited show cane from the table.

  Mimi fought to hide her irritation at the woman’s rudeness. “I’m sure there are plenty of toys for everyone.”

  The woman ignored her rebuke, turning her attention to Sinead instead. “You’re the one who did the show routine last night. Are you interested in selling your slave?”

  Selling him? Was this woman for real? “No,” Sinead snapped.

  The woman persisted. “Name your price. I need a new challenge. Vadim is beginning to bore me.”

  Sinead followed the woman’s gaze across the room to where the Russian who had stopped her earlier was chatting to Killy. Vadim. So that was his name. “Niall is not for sale.”

  The woman shrugged and without saying another word, walked away.

  “Who the hell was that?” Sinead asked.

  “That is her Royal Highness Princess Samara Shaloub Safar. If her husband knew she was playing here, he’d probably lock her up for the next twenty years.”

  “More like royal pain in the ass,” Sinead muttered as she glared after her.

  Mimi’s tinkling laugh was silenced by Hermione calling for everyone’s attention. “Mesdames et Messieurs, last year our little game was so much fun that I have decided to stage it again. The rules are simple. Each slave will take a straw from the canister on the table. The one who draws the short straw will be hunted. Teams have two hour to capture the slave and of course, there will be a prize.”

  At her signal, the doors opened and two servants entered, struggling beneath the weight of a Nebuchadnezzar of vintage champagne.

  Hermione clapped her hands. “Slaves, choose your straw. May you make your mistresses proud.”

  One by one, the slaves filed by the table, to draw a straw, until only three remained. The only men left to choose were Killy, Vadim and Niall. Vadim cut in front of Killy and made a dramatic production of picking one and then another, before finally drawing his straw. It proved to be a long one, and the princess smiled her approval.

  Sinead held her breath as Killy approached the canister and slowly drew out a straw. Beside her, Mimi groaned when she realized that it was a short one. “Merde, there goes the champagne.”

  As the mistresses teamed up with their hunting partners, Sinead made her way across the room to Niall. The tight expression on his face told her that something was wrong. “What is it?” she asked.

  He opened his fist and showed her his straw. It was a second short one. “Someone wanted to make certain that Killy drew a short straw.”

  “Vadim?” She asked.

  “Looks like it,” Niall said, frowning. He looked down at her feet. “I hope you can run in those boots, because whatever happens this afternoon, we have to win.”

  Fuck. Niall had no idea what was going on, but the combination of Vadim Gorev and Frederic Killy give him a nasty itch between his shoulder blades. The Russian mafia could do unthinkable things with the sort of weapons they could build with Killy’s research. And to think he had been worried Vadim was after the Fire of Autumn.

  “I think you should stay back, leave me to look after Killy,” he told Sinead.

  Yes, she was fit and in great condition, but the clothes she was wearing weren’t suitable for running around the forest, and he didn’t want to have to worry about her while he was dealing with assorted bad guys. In his experience, there was never just one bad guy.

  “Are you kidding me?” Sinead stared at him, disbelief clear in her startling blue eyes. “You seriously think I’m letting you off on your own?”

  “You’d be safer here.”

  “And if the blackmailer decides to double back and do something nasty while I’m on my own?” She shook her head. “So not happening.”

  “Then I hope you can keep up.”

  Half an hour later, the hunt was ready to start. Most of the women had changed into outdoor clothes, though two of them were still wearing corsets, and Mimi Lorenzo was wearing a leather cat-suit that looked amazing but would become very sweaty if she ran. Many of the women were carrying coils of hemp rope, and handled them with assurance.

  Niall began to feel sorry for Killy, even if Vadim wasn’t involved.

  The subs were dressed for the outdoors, mostly in jeans, chinos or camouflage, and it was possible to see how powerful many of them were when they were not playing.

  “God, you look good,” she murmured to him. “The Princess is drooling when she looks at you.”

  But Niall wasn’t paying much attention. Sinead’s jodhpurs and riding boots did dramatic things to her arse. He so badly wanted to have her to himself so he would spank that delectable behind until it was pink.

  “Hermione said that I
could borrow one of her horses.” Outside the French windows of the ornate sitting room, grooms held three horses.

  Hermione tinkled a crystal bell to get their attention. “Frederic will have a ten minute head start, beginning NOW.”

  Killy, wearing runners, shorts and French rugby shirt, bolted out of the room, across the manicured lawn and into the trees on the far side.

  “The rest of you can do whatever you like to catch him, as long as you bring him back in one piece. Mimi, of course, will do whatever she can to distract you.”

  Mimi grinned, revealing perfect teeth in a shark-like smile. She hadn’t become one of the most popular politicians in France by chance. She had the killer instinct, and was clearly determined to protect Killy.

  The bell chimed again, signaling the start of the hunt. Sinead dashed out and mounted the tall bay gelding, not even waiting for the groom to give her a leg up. She adjusted her stirrups while she urged her horse towards the spot where Killy had disappeared from view.

  Niall jogged along beside her. “Could be handy you being so high up. We have to get to him first.” His back twinged a little from the exercise, but he could cope.

  The other pairs were close behind them, but they reached the trees first, which meant that Niall could pick up Killy’s tracks easily. The scientist was no fool, and as soon as he was out of sight, he had changed direction, heading towards the right. Niall gestured for Sinead to ride straight ahead to mislead the other hunters. She nodded and urged her horse deep into the woods.

  The next half hour was taken up with tracking Killy, who had made enough of an effort to avoid leaving a trail to fool most of the company, and not leave clues.

  Niall had difficulty keeping his attention on the hunt with Sinead riding beside him. Damn, she looked good on a horse. She left the tracking to him, and concentrated on where everyone else was. “I can see Mimi tripping up the Princess, but there is no sign of Vadim.”

  Killy’s tracks led into the woods, and then doubled back, heading for the barns behind the chateau. “Meet you there, go a different way,” Niall told her.