The Ultimate Romantic Suspense Set (8 romantic suspense novels from 8 bestselling authors for 99c)

by Lee Taylor

  She sagged against him, but he suspected it was the lingering effects of whatever drug Glazebrook had used making her sleepy.

  "Let's get you to bed, Jessie."

  Her spine and shoulders stiffened.

  He cursed Glazebrook a thousand times over for the fear he'd instilled. They might never enjoy the arousal of Dom/Sub bondage again if she associated being restrained with the fear of those long hours in the dungeon, and the horrors she'd seen inflicted on the Korean girl.

  The mind often played tricks with an abhorrent memory. She might never recover enough to enjoy Submissiveness--with him.

  A passionate relationship he'd believed firmly in his grasp might yet slip through his fingers. "You need to sleep. No Master and Slave tonight. I just want to take care of you."

  He got her out of the tub, dried her body, and carried her to bed. It was like he held a zombie.

  He undressed quickly, climbed in beside her, and spooned her with his body, praying she'd feel better the next day.

  ~~~

  Jessie slept fitfully, dreaming of ropes and needles.

  Break the window, Matilda.

  There was blood and bright light.

  Get help, Matilda.

  She was afraid, cold, helpless.

  Michael, Michael, Michael.

  Her throat was dry as dust. She couldn't breathe. It was hopeless.

  La da da da dee da

  "Help me, Michael."

  Warmth at her back. "I'm here, Jessie. I'll always be here. Sleep now."

  "No ropes, no ropes, please sir, no ropes."

  "It's okay, Jessie. I won't hurt you. You're safe."

  Why couldn't she stop sobbing?

  "I'm sorry, Michael. He took my collar."

  ~~~

  Jessie woke tasting metal. Every part of her body ached. She lay on her back, listening to sounds from the kitchen. The aroma of fried bacon wafted into the bedroom.

  She remembered how Michael had manipulated her into forsaking greasy breakfasts in Panama, but now he was fixing a meal he knew she would enjoy.

  Tears welled, trickling down into the pillow. She had a Dom who would take care of her; he'd promised it and he was a man who kept his promises. But after the horrors of the previous day, she didn't know if she could still fulfill the role of his Submissive. The mere thought of being restrained tightened her throat.

  Michael popped his head around the half-open door. Her heart skipped a beat. He'd become so important to her in such a short time.

  The smile left his face when he saw her tears. He sat on the edge of the bed and gathered her into his arms. "Good morning, sleepyhead. How are you feeling?"

  "Like I swallowed the lid of a tin can," she rasped.

  He kissed her forehead. "How about your head? Any lingering effects?"

  She hesitated. She didn't have a headache, but would she ever be free of the fear? "No, my head is fine. Are you cooking bacon?"

  He chuckled. "I am."

  She looked up at him, drowning in the concern in his eyes. "I'm surprised you even had any in the house."

  He winced. "I didn't. I jogged to Mount Doug Market."

  She struggled to sit up. "Good Lord! What time is it?"

  Michael tightened his hold, gently forcing her to stay in bed. "Relax. I took the day off. My boss was so delighted with Glazebrook's arrest and Matilda's release, he insisted I stay home and take care of you."

  She snuggled against him. "I have to admit I don't have much ambition to do anything today."

  Michael rested his chin on her head. "Jessie, no one expects you to get over yesterday's terror in the blink of an eye. Your subconscious will never let it go completely, but you're strong. You'll recover. Be patient with yourself."

  She hoped he was right.

  ~~~

  Michael realized he'd been wrong. In the week since her ordeal, Jessie had withdrawn more and more into herself. She slept late every day, often not dressing until lunchtime. She ate little and wrote less.

  She smiled briefly when he told her Matilda Johnson had been discharged from the hospital and had decided to live with her cousin in Vancouver for a while. Her new lawyers had assured her the house would revert to her name, and they were handling the sale.

  She wept for Mi Cha, who was still in the hospital, but doing well. The Korean girl had provided the police with evidence of the torture Glazebrook had inflicted on her for months. But her future in the country was uncertain, her case in the hands of Immigration Canada.

  "She'll be staying in the country at least until after Glazebrook's trial," Michael reassured her. "She's the main witness. Matilda is campaigning on her behalf."

  Jessie remained desolate.

  He felt the tension in her body when he cuddled into her in bed, and though she didn't refuse outright to make love, she flinched when he touched her breasts or smoothed his hand over her hips and thighs. She often cried out in her sleep.

  It was time for a new tactic.

  Standing at the side of the bed, he shook her shoulder gently. "Get up lazybones. It's 8 o'clock. Enough of this sleeping till noon. You've got to get back to your writing."

  She curled deeper into the bedding. "I can't write."

  He took her hand and pulled her to a sitting position. "Are your fingers broken? You must write. It's your passion."

  He hoped she'd reply that he was her passion, but she only shrugged. "I can't think what to write about. My mind is blank."

  He hesitated, hoping he was doing the right thing. "Write about what happened at Glazebrook's house."

  She looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. "I--I can't."

  Be the Dom she needs.

  He pulled her to her feet. "Yes, you can. You're the one who's always going on about the therapeutic value of a journal."

  He forced her arms into the sleeves of her robe and fastened the belt. "It will be cathartic. Now, get out your computer while I fix breakfast."

  He held his breath, hoping he'd prodded her enough.

  "Bacon?"

  The twinkle in her eyes gladdened him. She still had her sense of humor. "Haw, haw. No." He patted her bottom. "Now, go, Puss-puss."

  She hesitated only a moment, looking into his eyes. "Yes, sir," she murmured.

  To his relief she shuffled over to the closet and took out the laptop he'd brought days before. He high tailed it to the kitchen. He had to trust she would do as he'd asked.

  As he cooked her breakfast, he heard the pounding as her fingers flew over the keys.

  ~~~

  Michael prepared boiled eggs, asparagus, and toast. He cut the toast into the soldiers Jessie loved, and made sure the egg was soft-boiled.

  He fretted the egg would harden when she didn't appear as soon as he called her.

  After a few minutes she came in quietly, her eyes red-rimmed. She blew her pink nose, shoving the tissue into the pocket of her robe.

  He stood with a chair pulled out, tucking it in when she sat. "Thank you, sir," she smiled over her shoulder. His cock stood to attention. Her smile tended to have that effect, and he doubted he'd ever get tired of hearing her call him Sir.

  He unfurled a napkin, laying it across her lap before he took his seat across from her.

  "You were right, Michael. Getting the first sentence down was hard, and I cried a lot while I was writing it, but I feel better now."

  He didn't know what to say. "Maybe you can save it and use it in a book."

  He was instantly sorry when she looked like she might burst into tears again. "I'm sorry. That was thoughtless."

  She shrugged. "No, maybe you're right."

  She dipped a sliver of toast into the soft boiled egg. "Perfect," she whispered.

  He cleared his throat. "I want to go over to Vancouver today to look for a new kitchen suite. I hate these chairs."

  She stopped mid-chew. "Vancouver? Can't you get one here?"

  He reached over to the counter for a milk carton. "Skim?"

  She waved an asp
aragus spear at him. "You're changing the subject. Have you looked here?"

  He filled her glass. "Yes, but in any case I'm sure there's more selection in Vancouver. We can go to IKEA."

  Normally, Jessie loved going to the IKEA store in Richmond but doubted she had the energy to traipse around there today. "Can we wait a week?"

  "No. We're going today. Now eat up and go get showered and changed."

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  They went out on deck as the ferry was pulling out of the Swartz Bay terminal. Michael was pleased to see color return to Jessie's cheeks. Her hair had grown since their first meeting and the wind blew it over her face. "I usually like to go to the Seawest Lounge. It's quieter there."

  Her eyes widened as she turned into the wind. "Me too. I hate lining up in the Cafeteria."

  He put an arm around her shoulder. "Let's go inside. It'll get cold out on the water."

  They were lucky to find a couple of empty seats near the windows, and Michael brought the Starbucks to their table. "We'll have a late lunch at IKEA."

  She brightened. "Good idea. I love the Swedish meatballs."

  She eased the lid off her coffee, wrapping her hands around the warmth of the cardboard cup. "I've never mastered the skill of drinking through the hole in the lid."

  Michael laughed. "Me neither."

  His heart did a strange little dance. Jessie was a wonderfully desirable woman and more than anything he wanted her as his Submissive. "Let's talk about a contract."

  She frowned, blowing on the hot coffee. "A contract?"

  "Doms and Subs usually negotiate a contract, so each party knows what the other is willing to agree to."

  "Michael, I--"

  He took hold of her warm hand. "You're having doubts because of your ordeal, but you know you're going to stay with me."

  She stared out the window, chewing on a knuckle. "You might not want me if the tests come back positive."

  "Jessie, look me in the eye when I tell you it won't make the slightest difference to the way I feel about you. But if you and I continue our relationship, I want you as my Sub. Agreed?"

  She nodded weakly.

  "I'll start. Can we establish we still want to be Dom and Sub?"

  She nodded again.

  "Say it out loud, Puss-puss."

  "Yes," she rasped.

  "Yes, what?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Your safe word is still Calgary Flames?"

  She smiled. "Yes, sir."

  "Good to see you smile, Puss-puss. It never fails to turn me on. Now tell me one thing you'd like to have in our contract."

  She hunched her shoulders. "No needles, ever, sir."

  He grimaced. "I can agree to that. I'm squeamish about needles anyway. My turn now. Blindfolds."

  She chewed her lower lip. "Blindfolds I can accept, sir."

  He charged ahead, hoping he wasn't pushing her too much. "Restraints, such as our spreader, and handcuffs."

  She gazed out the window for long minutes, sipping coffee. "Okay, but no ropes, sir."

  Michael sipped his decaf. "You know, Jessie, rope bondage, done properly, is an art form. I saw a demonstration at Scallywags. The woman was very aroused."

  Jessie said nothing in reply.

  He tried a different tack. "Okay. How about we agree on this? We'll treat our contract as something we can modify as things develop, but it will be written in stone that I'll never ask you to say or do anything you don't want to."

  Would she trust him?

  He was glad he was sitting down when she replied, "I agree, sir."

  She giggled as they shook hands on it. But his gut churned. What he'd arranged later in the day, after IKEA, might destroy their relationship forever.

  He hoped Jessie would understand that he'd acted out of love.

  ~~~

  They had lunch, then embarked on their exploration of IKEA. Michael didn't care if he found kitchen furniture or not. He was thinking of a way to explain to Jessie what he'd planned for later.

  "Michael."

  "Mmm?"

  Jessie was sitting on a chair. "You're miles away. I asked if you liked this one."

  Michael peered at the tent card in the centre of the table, feigning interest. "Glivarp. $865. Bit pricey for just four chairs."

  She patted the empty chair beside her. "It's a nice fabric though, and comfy, and I like the glass top."

  He remained standing, his belly in knots. He'd been hard ever since they'd walked through the bedding department. In fact, when he thought back, his balls had been in an uproar since their discussion about a contract. Watching Jessie devour her Swedish meatballs with relish hadn't helped. "If you like it, we'll get it."

  She scanned the display area. "How about that one over there, with the round table?"

  They wandered over. Michael had to admit he liked the look of this one. "Salmi, $505."

  He sat in one of the transparent plastic chairs. It was comfortable, despite its clinical appearance. "More in my budget. A round table will fit better."

  Jessie sat. "I like the continuous metal frame of the chairs."

  "Sold."

  It took about half an hour to complete the purchase, retrieve the boxes from the warehouse, and get them crammed into Michael's Ford Flex. He held his breath as he pushed the button to lower the back door. "It'll be touch and go. It's as well we didn't buy anything bigger."

  To his relief the door closed with a satisfying whirr.

  They piled into the front seats like two giddy children. He leaned over to kiss her. "Our first purchase together."

  He'd meant it to be a quick kiss, but he tasted the IKEA Fruit candy she'd bought and licked her tongue. She responded by sucking his tongue. His arousal spiked. He put his hand at the back of her neck, deepening the kiss. Only shortness of breath broke them apart. He rested his forehead against hers. "God, Jessie, I want you so badly."

  She brushed another kiss on his lips, pressing her hand to his cock. "I want you too. Let's head for home."

  Goosebumps marched across his nape. "We're not going home tonight."

  She pulled away. "Why not? Where are we going?"

  It would be easy to take hold of her hand, press it back to his arousal, start the car and head towards the ferry and their bed at home.

  But Jessie had to face her fears.

  "We're going to Scallywags."

  ~~~

  The bottom fell out of Jessie's abdomen. Suddenly the meatballs weren't sitting too well. She pulled as far away from Michael as she could. "That's why you've been so preoccupied."

  "If I'd told you before we left, would you have come?"

  "No," she whispered, gripping her knees. "Please just take me home, Michael."

  "Can't do that, Jessie. Arrangements have been made."

  Anger fogged her brain. "Well, unmake them."

  She tried to pull away when he took hold of her hand, but he held firm. "No. We're going to the club, and that's all there is to it."

  He opened the storage compartment between the seats and pulled out a box she recognized. Her heartbeat pulsed in her ears. "My collar?"

  Michael slid off the lid. "I had a new key made."

  "But where--"

  "He threw it in a dumpster. Stuart caught it on film." He lifted the necklace from the box. "May I?"

  She recognized with a sinking heart that short of getting out of the car and walking to the ferry, there was no hope of avoiding Scallywags. It would be an enormous source of pride for Michael to take her there wearing his collar. She bent her head slightly. "You may, Sir."

  He unfastened the lock with the key, placed the choker around her neck, and snapped the lock closed. He reattached the key to its loop.

  Jessie rubbed the key between her thumb and fingers, moved to the depths of her being by the longing she saw in his eyes. When she thought her voice wouldn't fail her she told him what she hadn't been able to reveal before. "He pulled me on a leash."

  Fury crept over Micha
el's face. He gripped the steering wheel, staring into the parking lot. "With my collar?"

  She nodded.

  He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, his shoulders hunched. "I'll get you a new one."

  She fingered the lacy metallic edges. "No. It's okay. I like this one."

  Michael started the car without looking at her, and they drove in stony silence to Scallywags.

  ~~~

  Michael threw the shift into Park, angry with himself. His plan had been to coax Jessie to Scallywags and make her feel at ease. But the image of Glazebrook using his collar to lead Jessie like a dog on a leash had riled him to a point he couldn't see straight.

  Now a heavy silence hung between them. He turned to look at her. She was too pale. "I'm sorry, Jessie. I wanted this to be a memorable experience."

  Jessie stared out the window at an oak tree. "Last time I was here I had a memorable experience."

  Conflicting emotions swirled through Michael's heart. He could not lose this woman. Perhaps bringing her to the club had been a mistake. "Me too. I mean that, Jessie. And I realize now it was because of you, not what we did."

  She continued to stare at the leafless tree. "You were lucky to find this spot. It's not too far to walk from here."

  He squeezed her hand. "That's my girl."

  "I didn't bring fetish clothes with me," she joked.

  "Me neither. We'll buy something in the store."

  They walked briskly, turning their collars up against the sudden chill in the air. He put his arm around her waist, relishing the press of her body against his, even through his leather jacket.

  As they entered the dark panelled foyer Frank greeted them with open arms, clad as always in his black hood and cape. "Michael, and--"

  Michael laughed. He hadn't told Frank who his partner would be for the evening's scene, and the Dungeon Master's face showed the shocked surprise he'd expected. "It's Jessie," he said.

  Frank kissed her hand. "Jessie, yes, of course, I remember. This is a delightful surprise. I'd no idea you two even knew each other."

  Jessie smiled nervously, studying the gleaming hardwood floor. "We didn't the last time we were here."