But no, it wasn’t Kingsley who stepped out of the elevator. It was a different man—one she’d never seen before. He wore black jeans and black boots, a red T-shirt stretched over his broad chest. He had a good tan, short dark hair and a handsome face—handsome in a rugged sort of way with half a day’s stubble and troubled eyes. Troubled? Interesting. Nervous she might have expected, especially since he seemed to be new. But troubled? That was a mystery she had to solve.

The man came up to the bar and ordered a boring American beer. With nonexistent effort he popped the top off and drank it in a few easy swallows. She noticed a handkerchief tucked in his back pocket—black on white: a submissive looking for a Dominant. This evening was starting to look up.

“Military,” she said, walking over to the bar stool next to him. “Am I right?”

“Is it the haircut?” he asked.

“And the really good posture. Let me guess...Army Ranger. All you guys are kinky fuckers.”

He laughed a little.

“I’m insulted.”

“Oh, insulted, are you? Gotta be a Marine, then.”

He shook his head. “Keep guessing.”

“That’s ‘Keep guessing, Mistress’ to you.”

He swiveled on his stool and for the first time looked straight at her. She wore black thigh-high boots decorated with a dozen silver buckles, a red leather skirt, red corset, black jacket and a black top hat complete with red band. She looked amazing and she knew it. Kingsley had gotten the best tailor in the city to design her fetish wardrobe. Yet another reason she’d been looking for a little play tonight. Shame to waste such a good outfit on an evening of celibacy.

“Keep guessing, Mistress.” He bowed his head in deference.

“Only one type of military more proud of themselves than the marines. Navy SEAL?”

He said nothing. Only sipped at his beer.

“I knew it. SEAL,” she said. “Give me a second to pat myself on the back.”

She reached her arm around her shoulder and swatted herself awkwardly.

“This is harder than it looks,” she said. “Don’t laugh at me.” Nora switched arms and tried patting herself from around and behind her back. “I’m going to keep doing this until you admit you’re a SEAL.”

She crossed her arms over her face and then stretched back to pat herself again. Her breasts nearly popped out of her corset.

He laughed even harder.

“Fine. Just stop that before you hurt yourself,” he said, a broad grin taking over his face and a twinkle shining in his dark blue eyes.

Nora immediately dropped her arms to her sides.

“Whew. Thank you. That was getting weird fast.”

“For both of us.”

“What are you doing at my club, Mr. Navy SEAL? I know it’s not Fleet Week. I have Fleet Week marked on my calendar. And my underwear.”

“It’s Mr. Ex–Navy SEAL. And I’m here because I was told to come tour the place, enjoy myself and see if I liked it.”