Auctioned to the Gentle Dom [The Spectrum Auctions 5] (Siren Publishing Classic)

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Auctioned to the Gentle Dom [The Spectrum Auctions 5] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 3

by Doris O'Connor


  “Of course, doc. Just hurry, will you, please?”

  “I will do, Jenkins. Keep trying to get her up, if you can. If she resists, don’t force her. I’m an hour out at the most. Keep her as comfortable as you can. I’ll be there soon. She’s a tough old bird. We’ll get her through this.”

  “Oh, I sure hope so. Like I said, Miss Lindsey—”

  “Let’s not worry her yet, eh. I best go. See you soon, Jenkins.”

  He ended the call and, shoving the phone back in his pocket, grasped Lindsey by the elbow, and pulled her along.

  “We’ve got to go now. I’ll explain on the way.”

  “Go where? That was my father’s head groom on the phone. Why is he ringing you, and what is so urgent?” Lindsey yanked her arm out of his hold and glared up at him. “Answer me, dammit. We don’t have any old horses anymore, only…”

  Taking a deep breath in for seeming courage, Lindsey picked up her abandoned wig. He was half expecting her to jam it back on her head, but she threw it across the room in disgust instead. “I’ll never get this back on. Please, Logan, tell me, what’s happened to my Millie.”

  Her voice broke on the name of her beloved horse, and Logan framed her face in his hands and forced a smile on his face.

  “I’m not sure. It sounds like an extreme case of colic. Possibly a twisted gut.” Lindsey gasped, her eyes growing enormous, as his words sunk in and she struggled against his hold on her.

  “No, not that. Father would never foot the bill for an operation on a horse her age. She—”

  “Like I said to your father’s groom, let’s not jump to conclusions just yet. I’ll know more when I examine her. He’s been trying to get hold of you. I’m assuming your phone is in your locker with your street clothes?” He looked her up and down, and Lindsey blushed and nodded.

  “Okay then, let’s go and collect them. Time is of the essence.” He’d opened the door to the playroom, and nodded at Nolan strolling past. The way the other man did a double-take when he spotted Lindsey behind him didn’t bode well, but to his credit, he didn’t say anything. Lindsey ducked behind Logan as though to hide from view and he wished he could spare her this, but there really was no time. He needed to get to Millie fast to make sure the old horse survived, and that meant a trip right through the crowded club, grabbing Lindsey’s things out of the locker, and having her change in his car on the way.

  Certainly not how he envisaged spending his evening, but needs must.

  “Nolan.” He nodded again and, stepping to the side to let Lindsey walk past, followed her up the corridor.

  “Well, I’ll be damned.” Lindsey stiffened in front of him, at Nolan’s muttered words, and when she hesitated at the door, leading to the main play area, Logan stepped up right behind her, and took her hand in his.

  “Breathe. It’ll be fine, little bird.”

  * * * *

  Oh, how she wanted to believe those murmured words as Logan opened the door and pulled her through. The noises of the busy club assaulted her ears the minute the sound proof door opened, and Lindsey let her long hair fall over her face while she clung to Logan’s hand as though her life depended on it. It was one thing being here in her Lindsey persona, but stripped bare of her armor and with worry for Millie weighing her down, she could barely breathe as Logan expertly guided her through the crowd. With the auctions officially over, the play stations were occupied, and Lindsey imagined she could feel the weight of everyone’s stares on her.

  “Logan, what on earth? Who’s this?” Mistress Scarlett’s unmistakable voice made her heart jump into her throat. She didn’t sound pleased, and Lindsey couldn’t hear Logan’s murmured response to the Domme over the blood rushing in her ears. Bare, masculine feet appeared in her line of vision, and Scarlett’s sub Mike cupped her chin to make her look at him. His blue eyes widened in sympathy as he scanned her scars, and then he let her go.

  Whatever Logan had been saying to Scarlett must have had the desired effect, because with a gentle tug on her hand, they were off again. Lindsey breathed a loud sigh of relief when they reached the locker area and she found it empty. Logan disentangled his hand and she felt a pang of guilt at the way he flexed his fingers, as though to restore the circulation. He smiled at her, and she didn’t need him glancing toward the big chrome clock on the wall to get her ass into gear.

  Having grabbed her clothes and phone, which showed several missed calls from the stables, she shoved her bare feet into her boots.

  “Ready?” Logan asked and she offered him a wobbly smile, while clutching her jeans and top to herself like some form of shield.

  “I don’t want you driving when you’re this worried, so we’ll take my car, okay?”

  The thought of driving herself hadn’t even occurred to Lindsey, so she simply shrugged her shoulders and followed Logan out of the club and into the carpark.

  Temperatures had dropped since her earlier arrival and she shivered in the cold breeze that swirled the just-fallen leaves around their feet. With the car park surrounded by oak trees, they would all have their work cut out soon to get rid of the avalanche of old leaves, which tended to make the asphalt a slippery mess in the autumn.

  “I’m over here.”

  The bip of a car alarm and the flash of lights indicated a large, silver BMW, and Lindsey managed a shaky smile when he yanked one of the back doors open for her.

  “Figure you’ll have more room to change in the back, as you won’t want to turn up dressed like that at the stables.”

  Logan smirked at her sharp intake of breath, and for the second time that evening she became acutely aware of how little she was wearing as she scrambled into the back seat, while trying not to flash her underwear at him. His scent was everywhere, and only intensified when he slid behind the wheel and the powerful car engine purred into life.

  A blast of hot air instantly warmed the interior, and Lindsey forgot to breathe as his gaze sought hers in the rearview mirror. There it was again, that brief flare of something that she couldn’t quite put a name to. In any other man, she would have called it lust, but this was Logan. He only thought of her as the young daughter of his friend. Not that she could be sure her father and Logan still were friends. He hadn’t come to the house in a very long time, and she knew her mother, at least, had bemoaned that fact only recently.

  Her traitorous hormones weren’t listening, however. They simply responded to his virile presence and whatever silent promise his eyes portrayed, and she hastily crossed her arms to hide the way her nipples poked through the fabric of her corset. The ghost of a smile deepened the laughter lines around Logan’s eyes, as he gave her body a slow appraisal that made breathing difficult.

  Somehow, being away from the club and in the confines of his car made this seem more intimate. Besides, men never looked at her like that outside of Spectrum, and certainly not when she was just being herself. It was an unsettling experience, and his next words only compounded that feeling.

  “Hopefully, with you in the back, we won’t cause an accident on the way.”

  Her mouth fell open and he winked at her, before he put the car into gear and drove off.

  Lindsey made short work of scrambling into her jeans. That was the easy part. Trying to wriggle out of her corset and into a bra without flashing her boobs at all and sundry was an entirely different matter. They had to cross Central London, which on a Friday night meant traffic was insane. With her cheeks flaring hot in embarrassment, she made herself as small as she could in the tiny gap on the floor, really only suitable to place your feet while she somehow managed to get into her bra and blouse without causing that accident. Out of breath and decidedly out of sorts, she then scrambled into the front passenger seat and blew her hair off her face.

  “Seatbelt.”

  That one word held a whole wealth of censure, so to see the small smile on his face when she glanced across, having fastened herself, came as a surprise.

  “What’s so funny?” The words came out
muffled, spoken as they were around the hair band she held in her mouth while she pulled her long, dark tresses into a messy ponytail before securing it with the band.

  “I was just thinking that you could have a career in the circus, having witnessed the contortions you went through on my back seat.” He shifted the car into neutral as they pulled up at a red traffic light, and Lindsey flinched when she pulled her visor down and the attached mirror lit up. The light cruelly highlighted her scarred left side, and she hastily pulled some strands of hair loose to cover the worst of them.

  “You don’t need to hide them on my account, little bird.” The murmured words made her breath hitch in her throat, especially as he chose that moment to reach across and gently turn her head to look at him. His thumb grazed across the worst of her scars on her jawline. When he smiled, her heart skipped a beat, and she daren’t move lest she broke this moment of connection.

  “I like what I see.” His grin grew positively sinful at her sharp intake of breath, and then he released her and, putting the car back into gear, drove off as the lights changed.

  Lindsey flipped the visor up, plunging the interior back into darkness, and threw a glance at the back seat. How much had he seen of her for him to have made that statement?

  As though he could read her mind, Logan laughed, and shook his head.

  “Don’t worry, a gentleman never tells.”

  Again, he winked at her, and despite the situation and the big ball of Millie-shaped worry sitting heavy in her gut, Lindsey laughed.

  “A gentleman wouldn’t have looked.”

  Logan crunched the gears as he shifted up, swore softly under his breath, and then put his foot down as the traffic cleared.

  “A gentleman also wouldn’t have bought a slave for twenty-four hours, so, I guess that means I’m not one. You’d do well to remember that I own you, little bird.”

  Chapter Three

  What on earth had possessed him to utter those words, he would never know, even if they were true, but he started this whole evening out doing things he wouldn’t do normally, so he might as well carry on. Besides, the Dom in him drank in her confusion. There was so much fun to be had in rattling a delightful little subbie like her, and regardless of what anyone might say about Lindsey, she was most definitely submissive.

  In the right hands, she would thrive.

  Not that those hands are yours.

  The little internal pep talk did nothing to help him reign in his libido. He should rot in hell for the hard-on he was sporting thanks to the involuntary peepshow Lindsey had given him while she’d struggled to contain her breasts in that lacy concoction of a bra. The virginal white had been a surprise, as had been the lengths she had gone through at ensuring no passing car occupant or pedestrian would catch even an ounce of flesh on display. It was so at odds with the persona she supposedly displayed at the club. Not that she had ever been like that with him. Logan had received many an amused comment by his fellow Doms and their subs alike at the effect he had on Lindsey.

  He’d shrugged it off at the time, putting it down to her need to avoid him, lest he figured out who she really was, but there was no need for such pretense now they had cleared that up. It was something to ponder for another time. Logan shifted up into sixth gear as the A-road opened up, and Lindsey picked up her phone. After he counted her fourth attempt to get through, he had to clear the air.

  “No signal, or…”

  “I can’t get hold of him. Why is he not answering, dammit?”

  It didn’t take Einstein to figure out who she meant, and Logan pushed down harder on the accelerator, silently praying he wouldn’t get caught on any speed cameras as the speedo inched just past one hundred miles per hour.

  “I should think he’s busy with Millie, little bird.”

  Lindsey blinked away tears, and jumped when he reached across to give her denim clad thigh a reassuring squeeze. At least he hoped it came across as a reassuring gesture.

  “That means she’s getting worse, right? Shit, damn, fuck, and…ouch. What was that for?”

  Logan returned the hand he’d just used to swat her thigh to the steering wheel. He eased off the accelerator to negotiate the steep bend that led them off the A-Road and onto the winding country lanes, which would eventually take them to the Callan-Brannan country estate in Surrey, or what was left of it.

  Maurice had been busy selling off holdings lately as well as large pieces of land to new housing developers in the area, something that had landed him in hot water with the surrounding villages and made Logan wonder what on earth was going on in that family these days.

  Clearly Maurice needed cash, as their London house had been sold for an obscene amount of money only a few months ago.

  When he could take his attention off the road for a second, he glanced at the young woman, who was rubbing the area he’d swatted with the flat of his hand.

  “If you don’t stop using foul language, girl, that swat will seem like a kiss compared to the punishment you’ll get once this is all over. I still owe you one for putting yourself at risk like that and offering such a blank limits list to the Auction. You do know that’s why Alexej bid on you, right?”

  The frantic up-and-down movement of her slender hand on her thigh stopped, and she clenched it into a fist.

  “You make him sound like the devil incarnate. I’m sure he’s not that bad, or Mistress Scarlett and Master Slade would have revoked his membership.”

  She pursed her lips in a pout so reminiscent of her childhood self that Logan was hard pushed not to smile. The effort not to let his amusement show meant that his voice came out much gruffer than he intended it to, and Lindsey visibly flinched.

  “He isn’t that bad, as you put it, if you’re a masochist. You, my girl, however, aren’t one of those, if that’s your reaction to a simple swat. Really, what were you thinking?”

  Lindsey stopped rubbing her leg and glared at her phone as though willing it to give her the answers she sought.

  “I had my reasons, and that’s really not important now, not with…Please, tell me she is going to be all right. I can’t lose her, not now.” Her voice broke on the last few words and a heavy silence fell between them.

  Logan sighed.

  “I can’t tell you that, little bird. You’ve been around horses all your life. You know as well as I do that in a horse as old as Millie—in any horse, for that matter—colic always has the potential to turn serious.”

  A strangled groan came from the passenger seat, and Logan rushed on.

  “However, you also know that Jenkins will do everything he can to keep her comfortable until I can take over, and I can reassure you that I will do everything in my power to see her through this, whatever this turns out to be.”

  Lindsey swiped fresh tears away with a jerky hand movement that made his chest feel tight and made him wish that this was all behind them already.

  “She’s a fighter, your Millie. Hang onto that thought, little bird.”

  He could see her nod out of the corner of his eye, and he put his foot down again as they approached a straight stretch of road.

  The tension in the car skyrocketed the closer they came to their destination, with Lindsey repeatedly trying to reach Jenkins. No sooner had they pulled up outside the stable block, which seemed strangely deserted to Logan—where were all the race horses?—than Lindsey all but flew from the car.

  Swearing under his breath, Logan retrieved his equine kit from the boot of the car and followed her inside.

  * * * *

  “Jenkins, how is she?”

  Lindsey skidded to a stop outside Millie’s stall and opened the latch with trembling fingers. Seeing Jenkins on his knees next to her writhing horse meant she had to swallow down bile. Lips curled back, hooves pawing wildly, and with her abdomen clearly distended, poor Millie looked in terrible pain.

  “Oh my god, how long has she been like this?”

  “I’m sorry, Miss Lindsey. I did try to keep her up
, but she’s having none of it, and the doc said not to force her.”

  Lindsey nodded, unable to form the words needed as she, too, crouched down low, careful to avoid the horse’s thrashing legs. The grunts coming from Millie made her think the worst, and she had never been so grateful to see Logan then when he appeared moments after her.

  “So glad you’re here, doc. She’s getting worse, and I can’t get her up.”

  Logan offered the worried looking groom an absentminded smile, his attention taken up with Millie, as he approached from behind and ran his hands over her swollen belly.

  “There now, easy, girl. Let’s see what you’ve done to yourself. Pass me my bag, Jenkins, will you?”

  “What can I do?” Lindsey grimaced at the squeak she managed to produce, but Logan seemed to have understood her anyway.

  “Talk to her. Let her know you’re here. You share a special bond and it’ll help her while I examine her. This won’t be pleasant.”

  Lindsey swallowed and did as she was told. What exactly she said to Millie, she couldn’t recall. A whole lot of nonsense, for sure, while Logan ran a battery of tests. The painkiller he administered calmed Millie down enough for the rectal exam, and they could get her to her feet. Words like “impacted” and “needs shifting” registered, as Lindsey helped to hold the horse’s head steady to enable Logan to insert a nasal tube to flush her system.

  After what seemed like hours of watching over her and taking turns to gently walk the horse, Lindsey was dead on her feet.

  Jenkins seemed to have aged ten years in front of her eyes, and Logan…well, he just looked sexier than any man had a right to look after hours of back-breaking work. Completely focused on Millie, he still took time to reassure Lindsey and after she tripped over her own two feet for the third time, he grasped her by the elbow and wordlessly marched her into the next stall, which held freshly stacked bales of hay.

  “You’re exhausted and Millie is out of immediate danger. I’ll stay and watch over her with Jenkins, but you need to get some sleep, girl.”

 

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