Phantasie

by Kit Tunstall

  “It’s okay.” She spoke in her usual business tone—calm, almost soothing, but with an underlying note of steel. “I know you wouldn’t call unless it’s a crisis. What’s happening?”

  “The Blitzheimer deal may be in trouble.”

  Regan’s knees trembled at the grim assessment. She had spent the last six months working on a buy-out deal for Blitzheimer, Inc., knowing Synergies Systems needed a memory chip division to stay competitive, and the German company was the most accessible. “What’s happening?” she repeated.

  “Giovanni Corporazione got wind of our deal. I don’t know how yet, but we knew we couldn’t hide it forever.”

  “Of course.” She automatically tried to soothe him, even as her brain raced with a thousand thoughts. “What do they plan?” Why couldn’t they have found out after she and Blitzheimer signed the papers late next week?

  “Nothing concrete yet, but word is, they’re out to make a counter bid, with better terms for Rolf Blitzheimer. Supposedly, they’re content to let him remain Chief of Operations at the Munich plant.”

  She snorted. “Ridiculous. That man’s incompetence is legendary. Tell me what you know about Giovanni Corporazione.”

  “A new firm. They’ve only been around a couple of years, headquartered in Milan. Snagging Blitzheimer would be a major coup for Giovanni Corporazione. I’ve heard they have the VP working on the deal. He’s supposed to be their top negotiator.” Rom reeled off the facts quickly, as if he had studied them for hours, until they had burned into his memory.

  “Who’s the VP? I want to know everything you know, and then some. Get me facts and figures within the hour—“

  “Already covered, as much as I could.” He sounded apologetic. “There isn’t much about Dante Giodarri that I could find. Most of it, I culled from an old Forbes article. He’s thirty-years-old, single, driven. I heard he’s being groomed to take over the company in the near future, as soon as Giovanni, the CEO, feels he’s experienced enough. Also, there’s a hint of rumor that the CEO’s daughter is part-and-parcel with the position. If he wants to be head honcho, he has to marry the girl. She’s only fifteen, so he has a few years.”

  Rom continued to speak, but Regan tuned him out. She couldn’t find the strength to turn her head in Dante’s direction. She could hear him stirring behind her and assumed he must have realized she knew. She wanted to experience a surge of rage, to turn and unleash it on him, but all that filled her was cold emptiness.

  She interrupted Rom. “I’ll work it from my end and call you back.”

  “Okay. Oh, by the way, from what I’ve heard this morning, Giodarri’s heading to Germany the early part of next week. Probably hoping to get Blitzheimer to sign on with their deal before your meeting Thursday.”

  “After a layover in Lasënbourg,” she said bitterly. “I’ll call you later.” She hung up the phone without awaiting Rom’s response and finally found the strength to turn to Dante, wondering what she would say. She knew what she should say, and the anger was creeping up, but the coldness seemed to be winning. The only bit of heat she felt was in the prick of tears at the back of her eyes.

  He had taken advantage of the time she spent on the phone to dress. He had the grace to look ashamed. “Regan—“

  She flinched at her name on his lips. “Don’t say my name.”

  He frowned, but tried to continue. “Please let me explain.”

  “What’s there to explain? It’s obvious you decided to check out the competition before you made your move. Maybe you even planned to sabotage my deal with Blitzheimer.” She blinked back the tears, refusing to let this man see her cry. “Was seducing me part of your plan, or did you just seize the opportunity to get a little pussy?”

  Dante’s mouth tightened. “I didn’t seduce you. You told me I was going to fuck you. I offered you an out, if you’ll recall. I asked if you were certain you wanted me on such short acquaintance, and later, all you had to do was say fermati.”

  She swallowed that bit of bitter truth, acknowledging her part in this. She had surrendered her pride for this man, but she wouldn’t have if he had been honest with her. Regan’s insides writhed with shame. “I can assure you we wouldn’t have gotten past dinner if I had known who you were. I’m surprised your slime didn’t ooze onto me.” The way his eyes darkened with anger pleased her.

  His tone was still calm, despite the blaze in his eyes. “I don’t deny my intention was to meet you, but not for the reason you think. I didn’t plan to sabotage your deal. This underhanded tactic of approaching Blitzheimer before he signs your contract leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Giovanni chose this approach.”

  She snorted. “Sure, because you’re a paragon of honesty, aren’t you, Dante? Does your fiancée know how you and her father do business? Will you still be fucking the competition when you marry that simpering young thing?”

  “Gia is a sweet girl and doesn’t deserve to be dragged into this.” His quiet tone hummed with anger.

  She flinched at the reprimand, realizing just how much like a jealous shrew she was sounding. It was fine to express anger at his duplicity, but Regan didn’t want him to see how much it bothered her that he had someone waiting in the wings. She strove for a cool tone. “Your tactics won’t work with me, Dante. I don’t give up easily. I don’t know what you thought our sleeping together would do for you, but it hasn’t done anything except make me more determined to close the deal.”

  “I didn’t set out to deceive you. I would like to explain—“

  She waved a hand. “I don’t want to hear it. I think you should leave now, so I can shower away your touch.”

  His expression tightened. “You really are a cold bitch, aren’t you? I thought it was all a front, a wall you hide behind, but now I realize this is the real you. You stand there without a stitch of clothes, as haughty as a queen. You can dismiss me, but you can’t so easily dismiss what happened between us.”

  She glared at him. “I’ve already forgotten you!”

  His laugh was as cold as his gaze when it raked her from head to foot in a quick sweep. “You’ll be aching for me, Regan. You need what I can give you, but you’re going to deny it because of foolishness.” He cursed as he stalked to the door. “Take comfort in your business acumen, cara mia.” He spoke the endearment mockingly. ”With your inability to open to another, it’s all you’ll have to keep you warm at night.” He opened the door and stepped through, closing it firmly behind him, without looking back.

  Regan stood in frozen silence for several seconds after he had left. She didn’t blink until she became aware of warm moisture spilling down her cheeks. Hesitantly, she touched the tears. She hadn’t cried in years, but couldn’t seem to do anything else as Dante’s cold words ripped through her mind on continuous replay. Why was he so angry when she was the manipulated one? What right did he have to be upset?

  Chapter 5

  Regan settled into the butter-soft leather of her desk chair for the first time in more than a week with a feeling of relief. She had thought that interminable vacation would never end. After Dante stalked out, her first impulse had been to go home to lick her wounds. Common sense quickly prevailed, and she had checked out of Castle Phantasie and flown to Germany, where she approached Rolf Blitzheimer a week early.

  It still stung that she hadn’t been able to salvage the deal. Blitzheimer wouldn’t budge on the sticking point of him remaining in charge of the factory, and she had refused to entrust a Synergies Systems holding to him. Even an offer of more money couldn’t make him budge, and his counteroffer of allowing Synergies Systems to appoint his assistant hadn’t swayed her. In the end, Dante’s company had won, despite her best efforts.

  She shifted in the seat, uncomfortable admitting by that point she had been more interested in striking out at Dante and punishing him than she had been in getting the German company. There were other possibilities for Synergies Systems, and losing Blitzheimer wasn’t the end of the world. Losing the competition with
Dante, however, had dealt her already hammered pride a crushing blow.

  Regan sighed, determined to put the experience behind her. She would just pretend as if she had never gone to Lasënbourg. She wouldn’t utter Dante’s name or think about him. It was a simple plan, but she was having trouble putting it in place.

  She tried to cheer herself with the consolation that Giovanni Corporazione had gotten the worst end of the deal. It was only a matter of time until they ran into trouble by leaving Blitzheimer in a position of authority. Maybe Giovanni would even sack Dante.

  She sighed, finding little satisfaction in that thought. She didn’t want to punish Dante on a professional level. No, this need went deeper. She wanted to hurt him as he had hurt her. The streak of vindictiveness unsettled her, but it didn’t stop her from indulging in fantasies where she punished Dante for his offenses. It was strange how all of those fantasies were always sexual.

  Once more, Regan sighed, attempting to shove aside her thoughts to make room for business. A stack of messages awaited callbacks, and she had to assign the preliminary research of another memory chip manufacturer to a team assembling later in the morning. She didn’t have time to think about Dante or wallow in self-pity. The concept was foreign to her nature, but she had managed to adopt the practice with ease this last week.

  She picked up a gold pen, a gift from her parents for her thirtieth birthday, and then tossed it across the room in a fit of pique. Why couldn’t she concentrate? What was so damn special about Dante that he continued to haunt her? Why did she ache for him, as he had predicted?

  Each of her fantasies of punishing Dante always ended the same way—with him turning the tables on her. Somehow, the ending of those fantasies was always more gratifying than the part where she dominated him.

  If all she needed were a dominant, she was confident she could find a partner. In fact, she would find one tonight. How difficult could it be? A feeling of calm settled over her, and Regan was finally able to turn her attention to work, with hardly a thought of Dante disturbing her throughout the day. Just having a plan for getting over this sick dependence fired her up and allowed her to dedicate most of her attention to work.

  * * * * *

  Regan affected a pose of cool sophistication, but privately admitted she might be in just a bit over her head. The idea of looking for a BDSM club on the Internet had been a good one. Buying what amounted to a skimpy leather dress barely containing her generous breasts so she would fit in had seemed prudent. Coming to the club hadn’t been a problem. Neither had entering. It wasn’t private or by-invitation-only, and she had stridden to the bar as if she owned the place.

  It was only after she had a ginger ale and was surveying the patrons that doubt started creeping in. Regan wished for the security of a girlfriend, to offer moral support and a quick getaway, if needed. She regretted that she hadn’t devoted more time to staying in touch with her college friends and other women she had met as she rose through the ranks of Synergies Systems.

  Out of desperation, she had tried Serena Jensen’s number on her cell phone from a stall in the ladies’ room, having copied it into her address book on the shuttle bus from the airport. Serena’s roommate had said she didn’t live there any longer, and she hadn’t seen her. She had returned to her perch on the stool, debating about whether to stay or go.

  She finished the last sip of ginger ale and decided to leave. This wasn’t her kind of place. She stood out like a sore thumb. Most of the patrons weren’t even wearing leather, aside from cuffs or collars. They were almost all paired off, and the few singles seemed familiar with each other. The club might not be exclusive, but it was clear everyone was a regular.

  Regan took a bill from her purse to drop beside her drink and started to slide off the stool. She stopped with an indrawn breath as a man stepped up behind her, blocking her path. She twisted sideways to look at him, struggling to hide her unease. She gave him a cool smile while assessing him. He was handsome, with dark brown hair, tanned skin, and impassive green eyes. His frame was slim, but with corded muscles. He couldn’t compete with Dante, but was attractive enough for her purposes.

  “I’ve never seen you here before.” His tone was as bland as his expression, giving no hint of what he was thinking.

  She shrugged carelessly. “It’s my first time.”

  He nodded. “What brings you here?”

  She shrugged again.

  “Harris.”

  “Regan,” she said, striving to match his clipped tone.

  His disconcerting eyes roamed freely over her, pausing to caress her cleavage, before returning to her eyes. “You’re a virgin.”

  She laughed. “Hardly.”

  “To the lifestyle. Go home. This isn’t a place for those seeking a thrill.”

  She rebelled at his command. “I have a right to be here.” Never mind she had planned to leave before Harris approached her.

  He lifted a brow. “You’re not a sub, obviously.” He sounded contemptuous.

  “I am,” she countered.

  He shook his head. “No, not you.”

  “There was a man…” She trailed off. Regan locked her gaze with his. “I enjoyed it when he controlled me. I want to try it again.”

  Harris scratched his smooth chin, seeming to be deciding something. “Very well. Take me to your home.”

  Her stomach clenched at the thought, but she forced back the urge to argue. He stepped back, and she slid from the stool. Regan removed the valet ticket from her purse as they threaded through the mingling couples. Her fingers fumbled as she extracted it, and the slip floated to the ground. She bent down to pick it up and froze when Harris’s hand settled on top of her head. She didn’t move until he did, but it was difficult for her to stay in the subservient posture.

  By the time the valet attendant returned with her Saab, Regan was seriously questioning herself. Harris should have appealed to her the same way Dante did, but she felt a lot more fear than excitement. She pushed back her worry and drove them to her apartment, wondering why he didn’t speak. Then she wondered why she wasn’t filling the silence either.

  Fortunately, it wasn’t far to her apartment, and she parked at the curb, as always, knowing the building’s valet would park her car. She nodded to the doorman, whom she knew only by sight, conscious of the strangely silent presence of the man beside her. She wondered if the doorman knew what they were about to do, and then she wondered why she cared.

  The elevator doors opened, and they boarded, finding themselves alone. As soon as the doors slid shut, Harris turned to her. “Lower your dress to your waist.”

  “But—“ Her eyes widened when he slapped her lightly. “Just a damn minute. I’m not into that—“

  “Shut up.” His hands were rough as they pulled the dress down to her waist.

  She screeched and tried to pull away, not enjoying having his hands on her. She was aware of the elevator stopping and the doors starting to open, but Harris pushed the “Close Door” button, keeping them shut. Regan pulled away from his one-handed grip, eyeing him as though he were a snake preparing to strike. “I think you’d better go.”

  “You asked for this.” He sounded bored. “If you really want to lose control, I can help you. Take off your dress.”

  Internally, Regan rebelled against the command, even as she pushed the dress down her body, to pool at her feet. She didn’t feel an overwhelming compulsion to obey Harris. In fact, she didn’t feel much at all, except the need to rid herself of Dante’s memory. If all it took were another, more forceful lover, she could do it.

  He nodded with approval. Harris kept one finger on the button, but lifted his hand to squeeze her breast. Not cruelly, but with enough pressure to make her wince. “The underwear.”

  She hesitated at lowering the briefs, but his eyes drilled into her. Regan pushed them down and stepped out of them. She stood in heels and thigh-highs, awaiting his next move.

  To her shock, he allowed the elevator doors to open
. “Lead me to your apartment.”

  Regan bent down, scrambling for her dress and panties, but the harsh crack of his hand against her buttocks stopped her. She looked up with wide eyes. “You can’t mean like this.”

  “Don’t question me.”

  She grabbed her dress and did her best to cover her front. Regan peeked around the door of the elevator before making a mad dash down the hallway. By the time Harris, with his more leisurely pace, caught up, she had the door to her apartment open and had stepped inside. She was debating about locking it behind herself when he pushed it open and came in the rest of the way.

  As soon as he crossed the threshold and closed the door, Regan knew she had made a mistake. She was a fool to go looking for a partner like this, who practiced the lifestyle, rather than dabbled as she had done with Dante. Fear climbed into her throat and made a comfortable nest as he began unbuttoning the sapphire-blue shirt. She cleared her throat. “Look, Harris, I’ve changed my mind.”

  He regarded her impassively, continuing to strip.

  She tried to keep her voice steady. “I think there’s only one person I want to submit to. This sort of thing isn’t really for me. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lead you on.” As she spoke, Regan found herself backing away as he bore down on her with a glint of determination in his eyes.

  When he touched her, she hit out at him. “Get out.”

  “No.” His tone reflected no anger, and his gaze remained cool. He seemed not to care either way about what she said. “This is what you want.”

  “I changed my mind.” He tried to touch her again, and Regan darted under his arm, ending up near the door again. “Unless you’re into rape, you won’t get what you want from me.”

  “Rape is the ultimate form of domination,” he said quietly. “However, I don’t believe in forcing any woman.” He took a step toward her. “But you gave your consent.”