Maggie and the Master Read Free Page B

different from the puppyish look on Kay’s face. Maggie tried very hard not to notice the possessive way his hand rested on Kay’s thigh, although as he met Maggie’s eye she couldn’t help wondering what it was he saw in her face. Did he see her envy, or perhaps her fear?
    â€˜Actually, I know someone you should meet,’ he said.
    Maggie returned his gaze as steadily as she could. ‘Really and who would that be?’
    â€˜A friend of mine, he taught me everything I know, he’s a very interesting man. I’m sure you’ll find he’s exactly what you’re looking for, and maybe visa versa.’
    The way Mike spoke hit a raw nerve and Maggie felt her stomach churn. ‘To be honest, I’m not sure exactly what I’m looking for, Mike, but if you leave me his number I might give him a ring some time,’ she said.
    Mike smiled and added milk to his coffee. ‘Oh, that isn’t how it works,’ he said. ‘No, I’ll tell him about you, and if he’s interested then he’ll make contact. Did you put an ad up on the Darksecrets site?’
    This time Maggie did blush. ‘Yes, I thought it might help with my research.’
    â€˜In that case give me the nickname you used.’
    â€˜Curious,’ said Maggie.
    Mike grinned. ‘As good a name as any, although you know what curiosity did, don’t you?’
    Maggie picked up her drink; she couldn’t bring herself to reply.
    â€˜Hello Maggie.’
    It was a week later, Friday evening, and Maggie was curled up on the sofa in front of the television. Kay hadn’t come home and left a message on the answer machine to say she wasn’t likely to be back until Sunday evening, so Maggie had plans to indulge herself. During the week she made up her mind that Mike’s offer had been at worst a bad joke and at best an attempt to humour her.
    â€˜Hello, who is this?’ she asked, muting the television.
    â€˜Mike gave me your number.’ The man spoke with a soft Irish lilt, his tone low and even, which was both compelling and oddly disturbing.
    Maggie felt her pulse quicken. ‘Mike? Kay’s Mike?’
    â€˜An interesting way to describe him; Mike is one of my more able students. He told me you’re curious, Maggie.’
    She was unsure of what he expected her to say, if anything.
    â€˜The thing is, Maggie, do you know what you’re curious about?’
    She took a deep breath, wondering if she dare tell him; the silence yawned as deep as the ocean and Maggie sensed he had no intention of filling the void.
    â€˜There are things… things I’ve always imagined doing… being part of,’ she eventually confessed, wondering what on earth possessed her to tell a total stranger the secrets she had kept hidden for so long. ‘Things I’ve always wondered about, fantasised about. And I write… I was hoping to maybe do an article, about those things, maybe.’
    â€˜Things,’ he repeated in the same low tone. ‘What sort of things, Maggie?’
    â€˜I can’t tell you,’ she blustered. ‘I can’t…’ the words dried in her throat as she realised she longed to tell him but couldn’t. ‘I don’t know how to.’
    â€˜Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘I’m sure we can find a way to help you discuss your thoughts and dreams.’ He paused. ‘We should meet. Sunday, we’ll meet for lunch.’
    â€˜The thing is…’ Maggie began, trying to come up with a plausible excuse.
    â€˜Good, I’ll email you your instructions. Oh, and Maggie…’
    â€˜Yes?’ she said.
    â€˜My name is Max, but my slaves call me master.’
    And then he was gone, and Maggie was left sitting on the sofa with the phone in her hand, the sound of her pulse thundering in her ears.
    â€˜Oh, my God,’ she whispered, wondering what on earth she’d gotten into, and at the same