Transcending Darkness

by Airicka Phoenix

  “Yes,” Killian murmured. “They raped, tortured, and murdered my mother and shot my father.”

  Juliette sucked in a sharp breath. Her fingers tightened in her lap. She thought of what Killian had said to her the night they’d met, when she’d thanked him for saving her and he’d said he hadn’t done it for her. She thought of the beautiful stone fountain, a monument his father had created for the woman they’d both lost and the pain on Killian’s face when he’d stood before it.

  “Did you make them suffer?” she heard herself ask.

  He never broke eye contact and she could see the raw anger and pain he was fighting back. “Yes.”

  Swallowing hard, Juliette nodded. She lowered her gaze to the agreements before her without seeing them.

  “Good.” She whispered. She moistened her lips again and pushed the bigger envelope forward. “This one.”

  Killian studied her selection a long while before focusing on her once more.

  “Why?”

  Steeled in her decision, Juliette sat back. She straightened her shoulders and met his gaze unflinching.

  “I don’t need a job,” she told him matter of factly. “And what I do want, it’s not listed in the second contract.”

  One hand lifted. The elbow was propped against the armrest as the fingers curled lightly near his mouth. He studied her from over the curves of his knuckles, his eyes dark with challenge.

  “And what is it you want, Juliette?”

  Self-consciousness had her gaze flicking away for a split second before she bolted down her courage and faced him squarely.

  “You.” She ignored the crack of her heart pounding against her chest and the way his face seemed to grow all the more intense with her declaration. “I understand this isn’t a relationship and that it’s only for a year, but I’m okay with that. I just want what we shared the other night.”

  Juliette wasn’t certain if it was her imagination, but the very air around them seemed to vibrate. Time itself had pulled to a stop as she waited with her breath held for him to respond. Each second that passed coiled in the pit of her stomach, winding tighter around her nerves until she was terrified the whole thing would snap and she’d bolt out of her chair and run.

  Finally, after what felt like eons, he lowered his arm. The long fingers settled on the edge of the glass, reminding her of a pianist preparing to perform.

  “Is that what you choose?” he asked at last.

  Juliette nodded. “But with the corrections I mentioned. I get to keep my jobs and you don’t get to tell me where to go or what to wear when we’re not together.”

  “Fine.” Reaching over, he plucked up the second envelope and tucked it away inside his blazer once more. “But I have my own conditions.”

  Surprised, Juliette blinked. “Okay?”

  The clatter of dishes being shoved aside filled the stretch of silence as he took up the remaining envelope and emptied the papers onto the table. He withdrew a pen from the inside pocket of his blazer and turned the papers over to the blank underside.

  He began to write.

  Juliette watched the fluid and flawless flow of his penmanship. Every loop and curve flashed with power and authority. He didn’t stop until one whole page was filled.

  He passed her the sheet.

  The first half was her conditions in exact terms in which she had placed them. The second half was his.

  I, The Primary, acknowledge and accept all the above terms issued by The Secondary with the condition that The Secondary allows The Primary to take the necessary precautions as listed in page twelve under term nine.

  Frowning, Juliette found page twelve and skimmed over the conditions to number nine.

  “The Primary has agreed that by signing The Agreement, he has taken upon himself the responsibilities of The Secondary’s wellbeing financially, mentally, emotionally, and physically. At no given time can this be altered or negotiated.” She read out loud. “I don’t understand.”

  “I’m getting you a car,” he stated. “As is my right under The Agreement.”

  Her frown deepened. “It says nothing about a car in The Agreement.”

  Killian leaned over and pointed. “The Secondary’s wellbeing financially, mentally, emotionally, and physically.” He sat back. “I consider you getting to and from work safely a physical wellbeing.”

  “That is cheating!” she snapped. “You’re manipulating the contract.”

  “I am enforcing the contract,” he corrected. “Do you not agree that walking around downtown, waiting for a bus full of questionable characters in the dead of night is risky? Not to mention dangerous?”

  She could think of no answer to that.

  “So, case and point, it’s a safety issue and since I am responsible for your physical wellbeing, it’s my right to provide you with an alternative. It’s either a car or a driver. Which would you prefer?”

  She shoved the contract back at him. “I’ve been doing this for seven years and I have never—”

  “You didn’t have me then,” he reminded her. “Now that you do, I won’t take chances with that which is mine.”

  She loved and hated the tingles that crackled along her skin at the quiet, guttural murmur. It elicited a shiver she just barely concealed.

  “Car,” she mumbled with more than a touch of grudging reluctance. “But only because I don’t want some person catering around after me.”

  “Excellent.” He took the contract back and scribbled her decision down next to the paragraph. “Okay, the next matter.”

  The contract was pushed back to her. Juliette took it.

  “The Primary reserves the right to occasionally attire The Secondary.” She raised her head. “What?”

  “There will be times over the course of the year when I will require you to join me at certain events which will require a specific type of attire.”

  “Fine,” she mumbled.

  His eyebrows shot up. “No argument?”

  She glowered at him. “Would it do any good? You’ll just fancy talk your way around it anyway.”

  “Fancy talk?” The corner of his mouth quirked. “That’s interesting.” He pulled the contract over to him and continued writing. When he was finished, he glanced up at her with one eyebrow lifted. “Would you like to read it or will you just agree to it in case I use my fancy talk again?”

  She jerked the papers away from him. “You’re a real brat, you know that?” Ignoring his snicker, she read the final line. “The Primary will not dictate the comings and goings of The Secondary unless in the event that The Secondary is placing herself in danger.” Juliette chuckled dryly and shook her head. “You are the master of words, I swear to God.”

  “Do you disagree?”

  She shook her head and passed the pages back. “It sounds fine, but one final thing.”

  “Just one?”

  She ignored that. “I want it to be made clear that I don’t want any money from you, like at all and I’m not going to sleep with you to pay off what you paid Juan.” She paused to better collect her explanation. “If I accept, it needs to be made perfectly clear that our arrangement to sleep together has nothing to do with paying you back. I’m not a prostitute. And you won’t pay me for spending time with you or whatever else you think you’re paying me for. I will however take one stipulation from the second contract where I will pay you, but more than a hundred fifty a month.”

  Killian analyzed this a long moment. She could see the deep deliberation in the furrow of his brow and in the narrowness of his eyes.

  “Let me get this straight, you want to pay me for sleeping with you?” he finally asked with an amused quirk of his eyebrow.

  “No!” she said a bit too loudly. “No one is paying anyone to sleep with them. I’m paying off what you paid Juan for me. I’m sleeping with you because I want to.”

  “You’re an odd sort of woman, do you know that?” he said at last, but reached for the contract and wrote the rest of her request along the
bottom.

  It was passed over to her to read over.

  “Good,” she said, nudging it back.

  With a satisfied nod, he lowered his hand and signed at the bottom. Then the pages and the pen were passed to her to do the same.

  “I will get a copy made up for you,” he told her as he took the freshly signed contract and slipped it back into the envelope. “We can always adjust should you think of something else later.”

  Juliette nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Oh, before I forget.” He reached into the lapel of his blazer and removed a sleek, black card and slid it across the tablecloth towards her. “That’s for you.”

  “What is it?”

  She picked it up and examined what should have been painfully obvious.

  “There is a limit,” he told her. “If you need more than what is on the card, just let me know—”

  “Oh for the love of God!” She shoved the card back at him.

  Killian sighed. “Juliette…”

  She shook her head. “Did I just not finish telling you I wanted no money from you? Zero. Nada. Zip!”

  “You also said I could cloth you,” he pointed out.

  Anger sizzling just beneath her skin, she snatched the card from him and held it up. “How much is on here?”

  It would have been amusing to see how quickly he averted his eyes and focused on tugging down the lapel of his blazer.

  “Just a small amount,” he mumbled, smoothing a hand over his chest.

  “How much?” she pressed.

  He inhaled deeply. “Ten.”

  Juliette’s eyes widened. “Dollars?”

  “Grand,” he retorted with a bit of a bite.

  “Jesus Christ!” She slapped the card down on the table. “Where the hell am I going to wear ten thousand dollars’ worth of clothes? No.” She shoved the card back to him. “I have already degraded myself in letting you help me with Arlo in an amount that I can’t possibly payback and I have agreed to let you get me a car. I won’t take this. I can buy my own clothes.”

  He set his hand over his and gently pushed it and the card back towards her.

  “Just hang on to it. If you don’t use it, fine. But I’ll feel better knowing you have it.”

  Juliette stared at him. Really stared at him through narrowed, wary eyes.

  “Are you crazy?” she blurted. “Or some weird pervert? What’s wrong with you?”

  Killian’s eyes darkened as he jerked back. “Excuse me?”

  She yanked her hand out from under his. “Why do you keep giving me things? Do you have some weird fetish I should know about and this is your way of easing me into it?”

  “I have quite a few fetishes, but none that are overly … weird,” he muttered. “I like eating pussy. A lot. I especially like eating yours. It’s all I’ve thought about since we sat down. Right here.” He touched the table top directly in front of him. “With your legs over my shoulders. Then I’d take you to that wall there,” he pointed to a nearby slab of granite making up a sort of bench joined to the railings along the terrace, “have you straddle it and lean forward so I can fuck you from behind.” He said it all so casually, like he was discussing nothing more than how lovely the scenery was. “In that position, every thrust would rub your pussy and nipples against the rough stone. I think you’d like it.”

  “Shit…” She had no recollection of speaking out loud until the words blurted out of her. In her seat, her ass wiggled slightly, the pressure between her legs too intense to hold still. “That…” she broke off to run an anxious tongue over her lips.

  Amused by the rise of color in her face, Killian leaned closer and lowered his voice. “I like sex,” he whispered. “I plan on having a lot of it with you. Starting tonight.”

  “Tonight?” Her voice was barely above a croak.

  He rose out of his seat in a single, fluid motion. His black eyes never left hers as he extended one hand to her. Juliette accepted before she could even think to stop herself and he tugged her to her feet.

  For a moment, for one heart stopping second, she almost thought he would follow through with his promise to take her on the stone bench. Her entire body tightened with anticipation. Her breasts swelled. The nipples tingled. She almost begged. She could feel it bubbling up her chest.

  He pulled her into his chest with one gentle tug of his arm around her middle. The collision of their bodies ripped a moan from her that tightened his grip.

  “Tonight,” he murmured quietly into her upturned face, “you will come to the estate, take off your clothes, climb into bed and play with yourself until I arrive. You will make yourself wet for me and bring yourself to the very brink, but you will not come, do you understand?”

  Cotton mouthed, Juliette could only nod furiously.

  “Good.” The hand holding hers uncurled and lifted to pinch her chin. He forced her head back even further. “Welcome to the next twelve months, little lamb.”

  Chapter 11

  Killian hadn’t been sleeping when Frank announced Juliette’s arrival at four in the morning. He hadn’t realized how late it was until he’d lifted his gritty eyes off the merger contract he’d been working on and found the bigger man darkening the doorway of Killian’s office.

  He set his pen down and winced at the pain that lanced through his hand. His fingers creaked as he forced them open.

  “Take her to my room, please, Frank,” he instructed, massaging the stiffness from his joints.

  Inclining his head, Frank stalked away.

  Killian rose and ventured to the window. The world outside was illuminated by a pregnant moon and a skyline glowing with golden light. The predawn hour had his lips pursing; had he known how late it would be when she arrived, he would have … what? Told her to come tomorrow night? No doubt she was working then, too. And in the morning and afternoon. When did the girl plan on sleeping? He wondered, undoing his cuffs and rolling the sleeves up.

  It baffled him beyond reasoning why she was so desperate to cling on to how she’d been living all those years. Maybe it was habit. Maybe it was the fear of letting go and having everything falling apart. He knew there were nights he felt that way. Control was a demon that always found a way to demand more. He could understand that. He could understand her need to keep surviving. He would respect that. If she thought she could do it, then who was he to say otherwise? But the moment it started to drag her under, all bets were off.

  Abandoning his place, he left the office and made his way across the estate to his room. It was a bit of a walk, but it was the only room in the entire place with a bed he actually enjoyed sleeping on. There were guestrooms he could take his company to, and he had in the past. They were closer to the front door and convenience was everything. But he usually tried to make it to his own room whenever possible. The women never stayed the night, not in his bed, not in his home, so it was usually just him in bed anyway; overnight visits hinted at a deeper sort of intimacy he refused to have.

  The door to the room was shut firmly closed. There was no sound on the other side and he suspected she was probably just getting comfortable.

  She wasn’t in bed when he let himself in. The room was empty and he was beginning to wonder if Frank had taken her to a different room when the bathroom door opened and she emerged, looking drawn and ashen. The hairs at her temples were damp, indicating she’d probably been splashing water on her face, possibly to elevate some of the puffiness. There were dark, purple halos around her eyes and fine pinch lines around her mouth. Yet, despite that, she smiled when she saw him.

  “Hi!” she said, her voice gravelly with exhaustion. “I thought I would have more time to get ready.”

  He went to her before she could reach for the first button on her maid uniform. His hands lifted and he took her chin in his palms. He peered into her eyes, into the warm pools of brown amongst a sea of faint red.

  “You’re tired,” he observed.

  She started to shake her head. “No, I’m fine—�
��

  “That wasn’t a question,” he cut in sharply. “Are you working tomorrow?”

  “Yes, but—”

  He released her and took a step back. “Go home.”

  She blinked. “What? But you said—”

  “I won’t have you like this,” he told her evenly. “You’re barely able to keep on your feet.”

  “I’m fine!” she protested. “I’ve gone days without sleeping before.”

  That only managed to piss him off all the further.

  “Those days are over,” he said, willing his temper down. “I know we agreed you could keep your jobs, but I won’t have this. I won’t have you coming to me like this when you have to work again in a few hours. I won’t have you spending the precious few minutes you have to sleep fighting to stay awake in my bed.”

  She stared at him with apprehension. “What are you saying?”

  “That you need to pick one job, Juliette. Only one. I prefer the one that leaves your nights open for me, but I’ll leave the decision to you. And before you begin arguing, this isn’t a request. Your health and wellbeing is the only things that matter and you’re running yourself into the ground. I won’t let you.”

  Her mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. Whether it was because she didn’t know what to say or because she was too tired to think of anything, he wasn’t sure.

  “Have you even eaten?” he broke in before she could find her voice.

  “Eaten?” she mimicked like the thought had never occurred to her. “What—?”

  “Food,” he explained. “You barely touched your plate at lunch. Have you eaten since?”

  The confusion crinkling her brow said it for her.

  Killian exhaled with a growl. He scrubbed viciously at his face and turned away from her before he did something unforgivable, like shake her.