Mabel stood from her high backed mahogany chair. The feathers in her hair billowed as she tossed her head about, and as I watched those feathers, an unsettling queasiness rose up the back of my throat.
“This is for the rights to this woman and her admittance to our club,” Mabel announced. “Alexandra Palmer has freely chosen Garrett Hughes to be her master.” She motioned to Garrett. “Garrett Hughes, do you accept this woman?”
Garrett nodded his head. “I do.”
Mabel turned her gaze to me, and the burning in the back of my throat was rising higher. I felt lightheaded, and my body became racked by a sudden wave of fire.
“Alexandra Palmer, have you consented to this ceremony?”
I was about to open my mouth to consent when something else came out instead of words. The champagne I had hastily downed made an unexpected reappearance all over the chaise. Garrett was immediately at my side, holding my shuddering shoulders.
The audience around us let out a few surprised gasps and one or two oh my Gods, and then Mabel’s voice rose above the rest.
“I guess that answers that question,” she chuckled.
“She can’t go through with this,” Garrett affirmed, his arm about my shoulders. “She’s been unwell.”
Through watery eyes, I saw a few of the ladies standing from their chairs and covering their mouths. I could feel the wet vomit on my robe, smell the acrid odor about me, and my mouth tasted like…never mind. I clung to Garrett, trying to stay upright.
“She has to go through with it,” a man’s voice rang out.
I turned my head and saw Colin standing beside his mother, motioning to me and scowling maliciously. Garrett’s grip on me slackened, and he took a step closer toward the edge of the stage.
“They have to complete the ceremony. She’s not a true member until the ceremony is finished,” Colin protested.
All the mutterings in the room grew quiet as eyes veered from the stage to Colin. For a split second, I thought Garrett was going to go after Colin, then he turned back to me. He came around behind me and secured the black leather collar in his hand about my neck.
“Satisfied?” he shouted to Colin. “She’s mine and a member of the club.”
“You have to consummate the act,” Colin ranted. He turned his blue eyes to his mother, pleading, “They have to go on with it.”
“Colin, shut up,” Mabel bellowed. “No one is going to ask that poor girl to go through with anything after such a display.” She glanced back at Garrett. “I’m satisfied the ceremony is complete.”
“No, you can’t be,” Colin yelled. “Since when has a collaring ceremony not been consummated?”
Mabel’s enraged eyes tore into her son. “I am the monitor for this club. If I say it is good enough, it is. Second of all, I’m very sure none of the others want to stay in here a moment longer than necessary.” She gestured to the entrance. “Let’s retreat to the dining room for drinks, and if anyone has the stomach for it, some supper.”
The other club members began to hastily exit the room, spurred on, no doubt, by the lingering odor in the air. Garrett helped me off the stage, and as soon as my feet hit the green carpet Colin was barreling toward us. Garrett saw him coming and pushed me behind him.
“You haven’t properly claimed her.” Colin was right in Garrett’s face, sticking out his chest like a proud rooster. “I will take her from you, and you can’t stop me.”
“Touch her, and I’ll kill you,” Garrett snarled. “She’s mine.”
Colin’s face was red and his blue eyes were on fire. He was pulling back his right arm to take the first swing when Mabel’s throaty voice called to him.
“You’d better think long and hard on that, boy.”
Her son stopped, his arm cocked back in mid-air. I could tell by the fury twisting his features that he wanted to rip into Garrett, but he was afraid.
“You raise a hand to another member of this club, Colin, and I will kick you out and never let you back in.” Mabel slowly walked up to him. “You have used this club as your personal harem for quite a while now, and I have said nothing. I will not stand by and let you make a mockery of our rules about violence.” She pointed her fleshy finger at me. “The girl belongs to Garrett Hughes. The ceremony is done. Now get your ass out of here before I distance you from that trust fund your father left you.”
Colin very slowly lowered his arm. He adjusted his tuxedo jacket, gave me one last leer, and bolted for the door.
After he left the room Mabel sighed, sounding more disappointed than frustrated. “He may be my son, but he’s also an arrogant little shit.” Her green eyes turned to Garrett. “I blame his father. Max Bergeron had a real weakness for pretty women.” She folded her hands in front of her. “I suggest you get your new sub out of here before he returns.”
“I’ll pay to clean the….” He waved back to her red velvet chaise.
“Don’t worry about it. We’re even now.” Mabel smiled as her eyes lingered on me. “I can honestly say I’ve never seen that before. Probably one of the most memorable ceremonies I’ve ever witnessed.” She paused and then added, “You should be very grateful that you’re his. Be careful what you do with that power you have over him.”
“What about the others?” Garrett pressed. “Will they side with Colin?”
Mabel shook her head, making her red feathers dance. “They hate Colin. No one will care once they have had a few drinks in them. These are businessmen, Garrett. As long as they know you have control over her, they won’t question any ceremony. Nevertheless, I would suggest staying away from the club for a while. It might be best to let things settle down before you bring her back, all right?” She winked at him. “Call me in a few days, and we’ll talk again.”
We stood by the stage as Mabel sauntered out of the room, swinging her wide hips from side to side. Finally free of the prying eyes of all the other guests, I let out one long, relieved sigh. Despite the condition of my clothes and the horrid taste in my mouth, I wanted to jump for joy. I was free of the ceremony, and my weak stomach was to thank for it. The silence around us was unexpectedly broken by the tinkle of glasses, as the lone bartender cleared away the bar.
“Wait here,” Garrett ordered while letting go of my hand.
He left my side and walked across the room, his long stride quickly covering the short distance to the bar. I admired how his tuxedo hugged his wide shoulders and round butt. Touching the collar around my neck, I was comforted by the knowledge that he had put it there. I should have been disgusted or infuriated that I had been made his in such a way. The funny thing was…I didn’t care. The man had claimed me. That mattered more than the object he had used to declare his intentions. It was just a symbol after all, like a wedding ring or tattoo. The meaning mattered more than the token.
At the bar, Garrett spoke a few words to the bartender. After being handed a towel and glass of water, he returned to my side.
“I guess that nasty bug you had wasn’t quite finished.” He poured a bit of the water on to the towel and then handed me the glass. “Drink that.”
I took a sip, thankful to wash the awful taste from my mouth. Garrett wiped my face and then, holding back my hair, rubbed the towel along my neck.
“It wasn’t the bug,” I explained, as he gently wiped my hands. “It was the champagne and the bottle of scotch I had earlier at my place.”
“Champagne and scotch don’t go well together, Lexie.” He wiped his hands on the towel.
“Yeah, I got that. I just needed something to help me get through tonight.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you.” He tossed the towel to a nearby chair. “I should have come up with some alternative.”
“It doesn’t matter now.” I took in a deep breath, feeling better. “At least this humiliation I can get over. The other….” I shrugged.
“We need to get you out of here.” He put his arm around my shoulders. “Get you out of those smelly clothes.”
/> “Where are we going?” I asked.
Garrett ushered me toward the parlor door. “Home.”
* * *
We didn’t return to my subdivided mansion on Esplanade Avenue. Instead, Garrett drove me to a converted red-bricked building in the historic Warehouse District of the city. Square, plain, and with cast-iron, tulip-shaped street lanterns in front, it did not stand out from any of the other structures in the neighborhood. The fifteen-story edifice suited Garrett. It reminded me of him: understated, reserved, and yet, formidable.
The first floor had been converted to a garage, and as he typed his code into a keypad at the entrance, I took in the desolate street around us. At any time during the day or night, the French Quarter—only a few blocks away—was bustling with activity. Here among the quiet residences and businesses, all was delightfully peaceful.
After parking his black BMW in his designated spot, we walked, hand in hand, to an elevator with polished silver doors.
“How did you find this place?” I asked, my voice reverberating throughout the garage.
“Actually, Colin told me about it. He used to live in the penthouse, I now rent, before he bought a house in the Garden District.”
A tweak of regret made me cringe. “I’m sorry I came between you two.”
“You weren’t the first, Lexie. When I initially joined the club I had my sights on Heather, but he claimed her before I could speak up. After that first day we met, he told me if I didn’t take you he would. I should have known then that he was going to be trouble.”
The elevator doors opened, and we stepped inside. “I don’t see you with Heather,” I confided, as the doors closed before us.
“She would have been a poor choice,” he agreed with a slight nod of his head. “Especially after what Colin told me about her.”
“What did he tell you?” The elevator rose upward.
He let go of my hand and leaned against the car wall. “She had made the rounds of several clubs, and had a reputation for changing Doms pretty frequently. I’ve known a few women like that and wanted something else.”
“What else?”
His confounding eyes ran up and down my white robe. “Someone I could talk to.”
“Really?” I smirked at him. “I thought barking orders at everyone was talking for you.”
“You see, that’s what I’ve been missing in a woman.” He pointed at me. “Sarcasm.”
“One of my specialties.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
The elevator doors opened to a shadowy hallway with just a row of brass sconces lighting the way.
He held out his hand to me. “Take my hand. It’s a little dark along this hall.”
We walked from the elevator and came to a red door near the end of the hallway. Pulling his keys from his jacket pocket, Garrett glanced over at me.
“I think we need to burn that robe.”
I played with the material. “Good idea.”
Pushing the door open he stepped inside, and a flash of light momentarily blinded me. When my eyes adjusted, a wide-open space came into focus. There was one large room with unfinished red-bricked walls on one side, and a modern kitchen with shiny stainless appliances on the other. Directly ahead, gigantic windows offered a view of the lights along the dark river. Exposed, rough beams in the ceiling harkened back to the days when the building had been a warehouse. Set amid the beams, spotlights illuminated the polished pine floors.
“Wait until you see it in the morning. There’s a great view of the river from those windows,” he insisted next to me.
I proceeded further into the room, admiring the simple chrome and white leather modern sofa and thick chairs set around a glass and chrome coffee table. “Am I going to be here in the morning?”
I heard the front door shut with a loud thud. “Absolutely.”
Wheeling around, I trembled as he strolled up to me with a cocky grin on his face. “Take off that robe.”
The slow burn in my loins rose upward while I unzipped the front of the robe and stepped out of it.
“And the shoes,” he directed, motioning to my feet.
Complying, I kicked off my tennis shoes and left them next to the robe. I raised my hand to the black leather collar about my neck, ready to take it off when he stayed my hands.
“No, leave that.”
He walked ahead and veered to the right before the wall of windows. I scurried to keep up, catching snippets of the room as I padded across the cool hardwood. I was surprised by the lack of pictures on the walls or decorations of any kind. Other than the sofa, chairs, and coffee table in the middle of the room, and some chrome stools set in front of a curved breakfast bar by the kitchen, there was no other furniture.
Garrett ducked into a short hallway. I followed behind him, admiring the old red brick that covered the walls. Running my fingers along the rough surface, I became distracted until the hallway opened into another oversized room.
An enormous low-rise bed edged in oak and covered with a light red bedspread was pushed against the far wall, with another wall of windows to the left. These windows were partially covered with long beige curtains that ran from floor to ceiling, a good eighteen feet. In front of the windows, a red cherry desk had a phone, laptop computer, printer, and a small pile of papers on top of it. Other than a chest of drawers, the room was almost empty.
Light flashed to my right, and I turned to a recessed half-wall. The sound of running water came from behind the wall, and I slowly moved toward it. On the other side, I discovered a master bathroom with a glass shower stall, a Jacuzzi tub, and a double vanity done in white granite.
“You need to wash that smell off you,” Garrett suggested, as he stepped back from the round tub.
I approached the small step that led to the tub and gazed into the running water. Garrett scooped me up from behind, making me gasp with surprise. Plunking me down in the bathtub, he then removed my black collar.
The hot water whirled around me as he disappeared from the bathroom, carrying the collar in his hand.
“Where are you going?” I called to him.
“To change.”
Sitting back in the bathtub, I played with the water, washing my face and splashing it about my neck and shoulders. To the side, I found a soap dish with a bar of purple soap that smelled of lavender and began rubbing the bar along my arms and neck, hoping to get rid of the rancid smell on my skin. After scrubbing clean with the soap, I scooted back and rested my head against the edge, listening to the rushing water filling the large tub.
“You need to wash your hair, too,” Garrett insisted behind me.
I arched my head back, glancing up at him. He had changed into a deep brown robe that added to the depth of his eyes.
“I got most of it.”
He swooped down behind me. “No, you still smell.” He eased me forward. “Sit up. I’ll wash it.”
He went to his shower stall and returned with a blue bottle of shampoo in his hand.
“What kind of shampoo is that?”
He placed the bottle on the side of the tub. “Does it matter?”
“Yes, it matters. I don’t want to use stinky shampoo in my hair.”
After rolling up the sleeves of his robe, he dipped his cupped hands into the tub and poured water over my head. “Trust me, anything smells better than you do right now.”
I wiped the water from my face. “You’re a real comedian, considering this is all your fault.”
His eyebrows went up. “I will take some of the blame, but not all of it, Lexie.” He squeezed a dollop of the shampoo into his palm. “You’re the one who wanted to do anything for your book.” He began working the shampoo into my hair.
I closed my eyes and frowned when the overly heady scent of the shampoo hit my noise. “Okay, yes, I know I went a little overboard with the book. You were the one who belonged to that stupid club in the first place. I really don’t get it, Garrett, you—”
“Master,” he i
nterrupted.
“Oh, you’re kidding. You want me to call you master after the evening I just had?”
“Yes.” He pushed my shoulders back. “Rinse your hair.”
I dipped my head back into the tub, soaking my hair below the surface of the water. When I popped up, he pulled the stopper, allowing the water to drain. He went to a door on the side of the shower stall and opened it. When he returned, Garrett had a plush white towel in his hands.
“Stand up,” he ordered.
I stood from the bathtub, and he rubbed the towel up and down my naked body. The front of his robe opened up, and I let my eyes luxuriate over his muscular chest. Wrapping the towel about my waist, he lifted me from the tub. I grabbed at his thick arms, feeling his rock-hard biceps. A furor of excitement shot up from my groin. When he placed my feet on the white-tiled floor, he began drying my hair.
“I’ve got a spare robe laid out on my bed. You go put that on while I make us some coffee. I think it’s time you and I had a long chat.” He handed me the towel.
“A chat?” I almost laughed out loud. “A chat about what?”
He shook his head. “Just meet me in the kitchen,” he mumbled, and walked out of the bathroom.
Completely confused, I stood in the bathroom and listened to his footfalls across his bedroom floor. When most men wanted to “chat” it usually signaled the end of a relationship. Garrett and I did not even have a relationship…not a real one anyway. I wanted more, and I had thought he did, too. Perhaps I had read too much into his touch and the way his eyes gazed into mine.
I finished drying my hair and draped the towel about my body. Edging around the half-wall, I stepped into his bedroom. On the bed was a yellow robe that was better suited for a woman than a man. Taking my time as I walked over to the bed, I took in the bare red-bricked walls of the room.
“The guy definitely needs a decorator.”
I went to the darkly stained dresser by the door and smelled the bottle of cologne sitting on top. Crossing the room to his desk, I perused a few of the papers piled neatly to the side. There were bills for his business, a few phone messages, and on one piece of paper, a drawing of a house.
Taming Me Page 21
