Sage stared at him in disbelief… did Holmes know? How could he? She had written DSI Michael Holmes into the books, but like Felix, he had been replaced by another character she had never written. There was no explanation. Sage remembered the original characters from her books, yet no one else did, and everyone accepted the replacement characters had always been there. She tried to question her sanity or even her memory, but she was quite certain of what she knew, regardless of all evidence to the contrary.
She’d been down in the tube? Someone was making threats, and she went down in the tube? He shook his head—she really did need a keeper. No, that wasn’t right. She didn’t need a keeper who would try to box her in. What she needed was a Daddy—someone who would act as her protector, confidant, mentor, anchor, disciplinarian, lover, and dominant—and she would obey and submit whether she liked it or not.
He meant to show her all they could and would be to each other. It was only a question of which she needed more—a sound spanking or a thorough fucking. The best part was the two weren’t mutually exclusive, and he meant to have her over his knee and in his bed within short order.
“I understand you’re going on a private tour of the British Museum. Try to stay out of trouble,” Gabe admonished.
Holmes chuckled again. “I’m tempted to wonder how she could get into trouble at a museum, but somehow, I think Ms. Matthews can pull it off.”
Sage grinned, liking Holmes in spite of herself. “I appreciate your faith in me.”
“Please, Sage, stay with the guide and allow the town car to take you to and from,” Gabe requested.
Sage ushered both men from her room and finished getting ready. When the front desk called up to let her know a driver and guide were waiting at her pleasure, she gathered her things and stepped into the hall.
Sage spent the morning at the British Museum, enjoying both the exhibits and the guide. Once he realized she was more interested in the characters of history than the specific history itself, his entire demeanor changed, and Sage was treated to a lively and engaging waltz through the halls. When the tour was concluded, Sage treated him to lunch at the Great Court Café located in the museum.
Not wanting to take up any more of his time, Sage left after lunch and requested the driver help her see some of the additional tourist spots she had yet to visit. The driver proved to be amenable, and with the Savoy’s blessing, treated her to a lively tour of greater London, including some local shops and sites. Sage found time to linger and browse in local vintage and antique shops in the city. She picked up a few items to personalize her hotel room and began considering ways to breathe new life into the Roark Samuels novels.
When she returned, she was greeted by Felix.
“Good afternoon, Sage,” he said quietly, stressing her first name. “Corinne spoke with management this morning. As you will be staying with us and have agreed to sell the paperbacks of the Roark Samuels’ novels here in the hotel exclusively, we took the liberty to upgrade your room to one of the river view suites… like the one you describe as Roark’s residence. We also had an ergonomic chair brought up, as well as a large monitor and small printer.” Felix escorted her up to the suite and ushered her in.
“This is the exact suite I was shown the first time I came to the Savoy. I based Roark’s suite on it. This is absolutely perfect,” Sage said gleefully.
“I’m so glad you’re pleased.”
“You didn’t think I wouldn’t be, did you? It’s absolutely gorgeous! I may never leave,” she teased.
“I don’t think there’s anyone here at the Savoy who would think that’s a bad idea,” Felix said with a smile.
“Felix, could you get me a list of places where I might find some clothes? I had only planned to be here for a week…”
“That’s not an issue. All guests have access to our Butler Service. I can have someone meet with you about what you like and can advise you, accompany you, or do your shopping for you.”
“Ding! Ding! Ding! I’ll take Door Number Three. I am the woman online shopping was meant for.” Sage turned and looked at the desk where her laptop, a monitor, and printer had been set up. “The small box next to the monitor?”
“A free-standing hard drive for backup in case you didn’t want to use the cloud.”
“Thank you, this is just amazing. Please extend my thanks to everyone.”
Sage spent the afternoon writing. Thankfully, it was going much better than it had the night before, and she was making excellent progress on the last novel she owed her old publisher. She returned calls to several publishers who had expressed an interest in her work, including mainstream traditional as opposed to erotic romance niche publishers. The most interesting message was from a literary agent and publicist who urged Sage to speak with her before making any decisions about a publisher. Sage returned that call and arranged to meet with her the following week. She wanted a chance to finish the novel, then have a few days off.
When she reached a good stopping point early in the evening, Sage decided to venture out into the surrounding area and wander along the River Thames until she found a friendly pub. She was mindful of Gabe’s words of caution but was determined not to let someone force her to be confined to her room or even to the Savoy.
She entered the dimly lit space, going up to the bar to order.
“Greetings, Mistress. Happy All Hallows Eve to you!” said the bartender, a short, stocky, balding man who had a jovial face and demeanor.
“And the same to you, good sir! What’s good?”
“You’re an
