by Anya Summers
"You and Ophelia seemed to hit it off with each other," Declan stated rather nonchalantly, pulling him out of the past, but he didn't fool Tobias. His friend had outfoxed and out-maneuvered too many hot bedded boardrooms for Tobias to think that he wasn't implying more than he said and was digging for information.
"Your point being?" Tobias wasn't going to deny that there was a relationship with Lia, but nor would he confirm it. Their relationship was still too new at this point, and he wasn't entirely sure what it was yet exactly. However, he knew that all he had to do was think about her and his body vibrated with the anticipation of seeing her again and what would transpire between them.
"So it's like that. I see." Declan chuckled, shaking his head. "Good, you need a sub of your own. You have for some time."
"It's not like anything." Tobias bristled, unsure himself whether their relationship was anything more than merely scratching an itch. He, the army vet, with an ethereal princess who had brazened his world of BDSM and he didn't know if he could convince her to stay in it. Her aloofness, her shyness, coupled with her intoxicating passion, were a heady mixture that left him wanting more.
Declan's phone rang, and he winced. "I need to take this call. Meet you for dinner in an hour?"
"Sure." Tobias rolled his blueprint plans up into a tidy roll and then exited Declan's office as his friend negotiated in Cantonese with his one of his companies.
Tobias strode to his room three doors down from Lia's and entered. As much as he wanted to see her, make sure she had recovered from the discipline earlier today, and have a chance to discuss their relationship and test the waters a bit more by escorting her to dinner, he needed a shower in the worst way. He'd trudged through crawl spaces to find the precise locations for some of the security installations, and he was filthy. He wanted no impediments to his night with her.
Stepping into the hot spray, he considered his options where Lia was concerned. His little wounded bird certainly liked his attentions. He loved her stunned responses, the sweet mewling noises she made in her throat as he tasted her pussy or slid his cock inside her tight sheath. He'd never had a woman open so gloriously to him before in all his years as a Dom. He finished up in the shower. If he thought of her much longer this way, he'd have to masturbate before he left the water. And he wanted to hold off until he could get his little bird alone. He had legions of sensual fantasies he'd like to try with her, just to see her response. She was a total submissive at heart, even though she didn't even realize it yet.
He wondered if her reaction to the scene today had gotten her so upset because it was her sister or because she found it stimulating and was ashamed. Tonight, he'd uncover the truth of it. He'd love to put her on display as the queen and have the entire court at DP pay their toll. This amounted to every Dom in the room taking a turn eating her pussy—while the whole room watched—before Tobias took her in front of their audience.
Not every sub liked being on display that way and having an audience; for some it was a hard limit they refused to cross, but the mere image of Lia performing an exhibitionist scene like that in his club with him made Tobias's dick harden. Maybe he could convince her to have a quickie before dinner. He decided not to shave his shadow beard, he wanted to rub it over her rosy nipples and see how she reacted to the abrasion.
His mind made up, he dressed in black trousers and a casual dress shirt. Declan and his fiancée liked having semi-formal dinners. Probably helped balance things in Zoey's mind since she was so new to the lifestyle. He certainly saw the appeal as she worked her wizardry in the kitchen with Declan's cook. Leaving his room, Tobias made the short trip to Lia's room and knocked. He waited a few heartbeats and, when he didn't hear any movement beyond the door, he knocked again. Louder this time. When there was no response, he tried the handle. She could be sleeping off lingering traces of jet lag or be using the bathroom for all he knew. Hell, she could already be down in the dining room sipping on wine.
The room was immaculate. The bed had been re-made after his and Lia's sexcapades. All the hidden bondage rings had been concealed back inside their hidey holes. Tobias checked the bathroom, which had been given the same treatment as the bedroom. Baffled by her absence, the first fingers of dread touched his soul. He tried shaking off his bad feeling, but something just didn't seem right.
Then he realized what was off; her suitcase was missing. He checked the closet, and other than extra linen, it was empty. What the fuck was going on?
He vacated the room with haste, taking the stairs in his mad rush to reach the dining room. She'd just been moved to a different room, or her stuff was located somewhere he hadn't checked in the room. He didn't believe it for a second, but the lie kept him from hitting the panic button and roaring out his frustration or the betrayal riding his soul.
He reached the door to the dining room at near supersonic speed and halted on the other side. What met his gaze didn't bode well.
Declan was holding his fiancée, tears streaming from her eyes as she sobbed into his shoulder. "Sh-she said that I wasn't w-welcome in our h-home. H-how could she s-say that?"
"Shush, lass. It will be all right," Declan comforted Zoey, and lifted his gaze to Tobias at the intrusion.
"What's wrong?" Tobias asked. But he already knew his lust-filled brain had been a little slow on the uptake.
When that sent Zoey into even harder sobs, Declan replied, "Zoey and her sister have had a bit of a falling out, is all."
"Where's Ophelia?" Tobias muttered, his heart thumping madly in his chest.
"Gone," Declan retorted with a grimace over his features, all the while stroking his little sub's back, soothing her any way he possibly could. Tobias knew their fight had to be about the scene she'd witnessed earlier that day between Declan and Zoey.
"Fuck!" Tobias exclaimed. He'd known the minute he noticed her missing luggage that his little bird had flown the coop. At his outburst, Zoey jumped in Declan's arms and gave Tobias an interested stare. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge under her eagle-eyed scrutiny.
"Tobias, you seem like a nice guy, but if you're interested in Ophelia, I can tell you that your timing is really off," Zoey stated. He could tell she was attempting to spare his feelings and look out for her sister at the same time.
"Why do you say that?" he asked, neither confirming nor denying his interest in Ophelia. He wanted her, that much he knew; they hadn't had time to explore anything further. Granted, he'd been dreaming of her for almost two months since that first night in his loft, but that was a little detail he didn't feel like sharing with her sister.
"Because she's pregnant," Zoey blurted out, wiping tears from her face.
His world spun on its axis. Lia, pregnant? "What? How far along?"
"About two months."
Tobias leaned against the table for support as the implications sank in. Ophelia was about two months along. They'd not used protection that first night, and he had assumed when she didn't stop him that she was on the pill. Even knowing the dangers of not using a condom in this day and age with STDs, he'd been so enthralled with his little bird that he'd plundered, not thinking of the potential consequences. With his lifestyle, he had himself routinely checked for STDs, just like when he was in the military.
Holy shit! He was going to be a father. Ophelia was carrying his child. In the blink of an eye, his whole world shifted. The weight of the responsibility, having another's life completely dependent upon him, dawned. He didn't know anything about children, had never been around them for any length of time, and had kept his dalliances to women with no attachments.
"Are you okay, man? You look a little green," Declan said, with an eyebrow quirked up in question.
"Where did she go?" Tobias bit out, with anger lacing his voice. Ophelia had known, when she first saw him yesterday, that she was pregnant with his child, and had never told him. That little fucking liar. Not that he had given her a chance to inform him of his impending fatherhood, but still, he
deserved to know.
Zoey was giving him that interrogator's once over again as she asked, "Why do you want to know?"
"Because I need to speak with the mother of my child," he replied, tempering his fury as his mind spun over everything he needed to accomplish before he could leave Scotland and chase after her.
"You!" Zoey squeaked, her jaw dropping open into a slack-jawed stare as his response fully dawned on her. She actually smiled at him with approval in her gaze. Tobias didn't want to read too much into her response to his admission, but it did make him feel slightly more at ease.
"Yes, and I need to talk to her. We have things to settle between us. Where did she go?" His little bird could run all she wanted; he'd bring her to heel.
"She's on a flight back home to Los Angeles."
"I understand that, but I need her address, need to know where I can find her. As you can imagine, she and I have many things we need to discuss. And if I could make one request from you, I realize she's your sister, but don't tell her I'm coming." He wanted to make sure his little bird didn't go further into hiding. Not that he couldn't or wouldn't be able to find her, but he wanted every advantage on his side, which meant keeping her in the dark about the fact that he was tailing her until he had her within his sights.
"You didn't know until I just told you, did you?" Zoey probed, her gaze wise beyond her years as she studied him. She was the perfect match for his buddy Declan.
"No, I didn't," Tobias admitted, feeling his chest expand with glowing warmth as the shock of his impending fatherhood wore off and was replaced with hope for the future.
"Have a seat, we need to talk. There are things about my sister you need to understand." Zoey gestured to the table just as Mrs. Stewart rolled in a cart loaded with dinner.
He'd listen, gathering whatever information Zoey could tell him about her sister, and then he'd create a plan of attack. It was what had made him so valuable in the military, his ability to assess a situation and understand the best course of action to achieve success. His little bird wasn't getting away from him next time. He'd bet his life on it.
Declan clapped his shoulder. "Congrats, man!"
Tobias nodded, unable to voice his feelings as they swirled in his heart.
They sat, and Zoey proceeded to describe the events surrounding her parents' deaths and the effects it had had on Ophelia.
When Tobias finally reached her, he was going to tan her hide to a ruby red; she wouldn't sit pretty for a week.
"So you see, that's her normal response to things, to shut down emotionally. If you still want to get involved with her after hearing all of this, then I give you my blessing," Zoey said.
"Thanks. I plan on it. Oh, and Zoey, again, please don't tell her I'm coming. I want it to be a surprise."
Chapter 9
Ophelia worked to resume the threads of her life after another thirty hours' worth of travel, followed by subsequent jet lag that felled her like Paul Bunyan chopping down a redwood tree. She'd slept from one sunrise to the next, and awoke resigned to her fate.
Her sister wanted to move on, fine. Lia would, too. And as for her dalliance on the wilder side, Ophelia had made up her mind that she'd had her fun, it had been exciting at the time, but now she was going to be a mother and it was time she started acting like it. Her first order of business had been to move her bedroom into the master bedroom. The one her parents had slept in and which had remained something of a mausoleum over the last six years.
If the house was hers, then it stood to reason that she could make whatever changes she wanted and felt were necessary for herself and her baby. She'd been able to fend off Lucy, who was threatening to storm her house any day now. Ophelia had begged her to stay away, lying to her with the excuse that she'd picked up a flu bug on her travels and would call her when she felt better.
Instead of dealing with her inner turmoil, Lia hauled furniture, boxed up mementos, and rearranged the entire house. It was as if being pregnant had ignited a fervent desire for order and structure, to arrange her world as she saw fit. They'd never disposed of a single item that had belonged to their parents, not even their clothes, the bulk of which still hung inside the walk-in closet or were folded up in dresser drawers doing nothing but collecting dust. Both she and Zoey had been too young, she believed, to even consider parting with anything that had once been their parents'. Except, in the end, they had turned the master bedroom into almost a shrine to their existence. The grief mingled with guilt that was always so near whenever she thought of them seemed to pour out and lighten in some respects as she packed up what she wanted to keep, thinking her child would want to have pictures of his or her grandparents one day. Then she created boxed piles of things to donate. Her parents would approve of their clothes going to homeless shelters and those in need. She turned a section of the living room into a storage area, piling up the boxes of things she planned to get rid of as she purged the house.
Over the first few days after her return from Scotland, Ophelia made significant progress on the house. By mid-week, she had boxed up her sister's room entirely and shipped everything to her in Scotland, going so far as to hire movers to store the extra unused furniture in the storage shed out back. Ophelia wasn't shipping that. If Zoey desperately wanted any of the furniture—not that she would have any use for it in her castle—her rich fiancé could pay to have those items shipped internationally. Her other things had already cost Lia a small fortune in shipping fees. And she was going to need every penny from here on out. So she planned and budgeted for her and her baby's future. She had enough from her inheritance that if she was smart and spent wisely; she could make it through finishing her master's degree before needing to go full-time.
While the movers were there that week, Ophelia also had them transfer her bedroom furniture into Zoey's room, completely emptying out own. She'd already decided this would be the nursery. It was closest to the master bedroom, and would suit better than Zoey's old room.
Feeling pleased with the progress she had made on what she now considered to be her house, Ophelia resumed her classes, getting back into the rhythm of her life. If she felt like something was missing or woke in the night craving a calloused palm, she did what she was so superb at doing; she shut her feelings off, and went about her business.
Lucy had finally dropped by mid-week and was now apparently making her own plans to invade Scotland to, as she put it, 'save her friend'. As much as Lia had tried to disabuse her of the notion, when Lucy got an idea stuck in her head, she was a hard one to shake from her desired path. Even when Lia informed Lucy that not only had she failed in her attempt at convincing her sister to return home, but had instead created a rift between them that was wider than the Atlantic—one which she had no clue how to mend—Lucy refused to be dissuaded. When Lucy had pressed her for more information on their disagreement Ophelia diverted the subject matter, refraining from providing a detailed explanation as to the nature of the fight or the full situation occurring at Mullardoch Manor and changed her tactics, wishing Lucy the best of luck with her endeavor.
Who was she to say otherwise or try to disabuse her of the notion?
By Friday night, Lia was exhausted. In the week and a half she'd been home, Scotland had begun to feel like a horrible nightmare. Well, except for Tobias. There had been nights she'd woken up wishing she had his warmth at her back. Moreover, she still had not found the nerve to tell him about the baby, partly due to the way she'd left Scotland. She should have said something to him, informed him that she was leaving, but she'd been in such a wretched state she hadn't even thought about it until she was in her private cab on the train to Edinburgh, and there she'd realized she hadn't said goodbye. This left her with so many problems where he was concerned. After her behavior, how could she even approach him? Even though she knew she'd probably be able to locate him, would he even give her the time of day? Nor did she know how to broach the subject about the baby. With a few words, she would alter his life forever. That
didn't mean she shouldn't give him the opportunity to know that he was going to be a father. She definitely should do it, not for her sake but for her child's. It was just that she understood that once she told him, no matter what his decision was regarding involvement or not, she was going to rock his world—and not necessarily in a good way.
Whoever said women glowed when they were pregnant, or that it was the best time of their life, must have been heavily medicated. Every morning like clockwork, Ophelia was in the bathroom by six, tossing her cookies. Her queasy stomach would last until about noon, after which she would nibble on saltines and sip chamomile tea for the rest of the day. She'd successfully added chicken broth last night, and hoped she could add milk tonight without adding to her queasiness.
She missed her coffee, missed the caffeinated buzz that would hit her system. Her lower back ached from the simplest of tasks. Although the fact that she had been doing some serious redecorating could explain why her lower back was killing her, and now her boobs had developed a new level of tenderness. The doctor told her it was normal, but boy did they hurt. If she rolled over onto them in the middle of the night, it woke her up they hurt so badly.
She was in her pajamas and robe by seven on a Friday night. All she wanted was to curl up on her reading chair with a book and another cup of chamomile tea. That and crackers seemed to be the only sustenance that would actually stay down, although her doctor promised her it should wane in her second trimester, which was only two and a half weeks away. Right now, as her stomach gurgled, it felt like eons instead of mere days.
She had just opened her book when the doorbell rang. Shuffling to the door, she wondered who it could possibly be. Lucy should be somewhere over the Atlantic by now. Twisting the handle, Lia pulled the door open and froze.
