Bind

by Sierra Cartwright

  Anger had built, and after he’d canceled the appointment with the judge and let his lawyer know that the prenuptial agreement was now void, he’d turned up the notch until he was pissed.

  Saturday he’d woken up morose. It should have been his honeymoon. Instead, he’d been taunted by the sight of their rings on his dresser. He’d spent too much time that evening with a well-aged bottle of whisky.

  He’d woken on Sunday with a determination to forget about her. He’d worked out, grabbed his bike and gone for a grueling ride in the punishing heat then had returned home to pump some iron and finally swim his way into exhaustion.

  Sometime yesterday, he’d tried to convince himself that her decision had been a good one.

  But no matter how hard he worked out, he couldn’t outrun her last words. She loved him.

  That statement had him tied in emotional knots.

  And his little sister’s visit wasn’t helping.

  “You know why I’m confused? I thought you liked her. She’s the only woman you’ve ever brought to a family function.”

  “We were supposed to be getting married,” he reminded her.

  “But I saw the way you looked at her, the way you touched her.”

  “I was being polite and courteous.”

  “When you all but banged her up against the side of your car?”

  Carefully, very carefully, he put down his wine. “You saw?”

  “Nathan, too. He was walking me to my car. He had to work fast so that Grandfather didn’t see you. He wanted to leave so he could go train for his five-k walk. You were so fixed on Lara that you never saw us leave the house. And she certainly looked as if she were a willing participant. So you can tell yourself whatever story you want, big brother, but something happened, and my friend is still upset. Now excuse me while I get her stuff. Do you still have the boxes? Or should I use bags?”

  “Pantry,” he replied.

  She stood, hands on her hips. “Do you want to get them?” Without waiting for a response, she went into his bedroom.

  By the time he got there with two boxes, she had Lara’s clothing and personal effects spread out across his bed.

  “You know, Conn, you could do this yourself.” Her voice was softer than it had been since she arrived. “Take it to her, talk to her.”

  He shook his head, but he helped her pack it up. He sealed the boxes, then carried them down to her car.

  After the last one was loaded, she looked at him. “I’m not sure what you’re afraid of. Aunt Kathryn and I have been worried about you for a long time. Since Dad. It’s okay to live. To move on.”

  “I have. I just remember the lessons.”

  “What lessons?” she asked. As they’d been working, her hair had come loose from a clip, and she took it out then re-secured it.

  “The same ones we all learned.”

  “Which ones?” She frowned. “Everyone reacts differently. Grandfather decided to start focusing on his health so he’ll be around a lot longer. Aunt Kathryn’s learned to seize every moment, and that’s why she’s going to say fuck us all—and whatever we think—to run off with a guy thirty-something years younger than she is. As for me? I’ve learned that life is too short to stay on the sidelines. I’m going to give my friend a shot at opening her corset shop. Maybe I’m reckless, like Nathan says, but you know what? I don’t care. If I burn through my money, I’ll figure something else out. So tell me again, Connor. What’s the lesson?”

  He scowled.

  She kissed his cheek. “You don’t have to go through your life being a dumbnuts. Relax a little. You don’t have to be responsible for the whole world. The earth was in orbit when we got here, and it will be here when we leave. I love you.” She got in her car. Before pulling away, she paused to wave.

  Despite what she’d said, Connor wasn’t persuaded.

  Lara might have believed that she loved him. But he lived every day with the damages of trusting that seductive emotion.

  In retrospect, the way she’d handled it was probably best. If she was in love with him, then it was better that they’d ended it now.

  He went back inside to take a shower. Instead, he changed his mind and put on his swim trunks before heading for the pool. Anything to keep the demons at bay.

  * * * *

  “That’s it,” Erin said, carrying in the last box.

  “Wine?” Lara offered.

  “Don’t mind if I do. I opened a bottle of Connor’s to irritate him, but I didn’t have a chance to drink it all.”

  Lara gave her friend a quick hug and ignored the few boxes that were stacked in the kitchen. “Outside?”

  “Sounds good.”

  She poured them each a glass, and they sat next to each other on the swing.

  “Sorry,” Erin said. “I feel like a heel.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s my fault. I was the one to suggest you two get married, but I had no idea how fucked up he really is.”

  “I don’t know how true that is.”

  “Okay, so tell me. I want to hear your side. I’ve been unbelievably patient. And now that I’ve brought you a small fortune’s worth of your stuff, you owe me.”

  “Was this your form of bribery?”

  “I’m not above it. Now dish before I drink all your wine.”

  “He’s your brother.”

  “Chicks before dicks,” Erin reminded her.

  Erin set the swing in motion, and Lara debated how much to say.

  Her mother had stopped by twice, and she’d listened until Lara couldn’t talk anymore. While her mother had been wonderful, she hadn’t fully understood. Lara had kept the D/s part silent, and that information complicated things in a way that wasn’t possible to explain. “I fell in love with your brother.”

  “I thought you were going to tell me something I didn’t know.” Erin rolled her eyes. “That was obvious at the family gathering.”

  She blinked. So much for the big reveal.

  “And Connor has a big ol’ chunk of lead where his heart is supposed to be,” Erin added. “So, did you tell him?”

  “Yeah.” She took a small drink. “He said nothing.”

  “It’s not you, Lara,” Erin said. “It’s him. He’s always been reserved, but he’s been worse since Dad died.”

  “The thing is, he’s capable of showing great affection.” In the short time they’d been together, she’d gotten accustomed to sleeping in his arms, to having him draw her a bath, and once, a foot rub while they’d talked.

  “I can tell you this, he can pretend all he wants. But we all saw the way he looked at you, and it took him a long damn time to put your dresses in a box. Your underwear took even longer. There was a garter belt I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to pry out of his hand.” She snickered.

  “You made him do that?”

  “And carry down all the boxes.”

  They chatted for a few minutes about the progress on the BHI Communications sale before Erin stood to leave.

  “You know, Lara, if anyone was going to melt his heart, I was sure it was going to be you.”

  “Thanks for that.” She walked Erin outside. The two hugged, and Erin gave her a reassuring squeeze.

  She’d barely pulled away when Suzy-Q made a break for it, bounding across the yard to plant her paws on Lara’s shoulders and her lay her head on top of one. “BFF,” she whispered to the dog.

  Mrs. Fuhrman came over with a leash in hand. “I swear she loves you, Lara.”

  “It’s mutual.” She stroked behind the dog’s massive ears.

  “What happened with the moving man?”

  For weeks, Lara had wondered if Mrs. Fuhrman watched the neighborhood happenings from her window and sent the dog outside as an excuse to come and get her. The question confirmed her suspicions. “Things didn’t work out,” she said noncommittally.

  “Well, the neighborhood wouldn’t have been the same without you. But he was a strapping young thing, wasn’t he? Odd that a moving
company has their gentlemen wear such nice clothes.”

  She smiled, maybe for the first time in days.

  After getting Suzy-Q on the leash, Lara went back inside.

  The house seemed larger than usual, and emptier.

  She was tempted to ignore the boxes, but it was better to have something to do than spend the rest of the evening moping.

  Tucked inside her pile of lingerie, she found a jeweler’s box. She opened it to see the wedding rings that he’d purchased.

  Warning herself not to be stupid, she couldn’t resist the impulse to try them on.

  The fit was exact, and the setting suited her personality.

  Light hit the diamond and refracted a hundred different directions. She traced a finger across the stone.

  Touching the cold surface somehow made the ending of their relationship more final. When he’d packed her belongings, he’d included the things he’d bought for her, the ring, the black dress, the necklace.

  The emotion she thought she’d been able to manage broke free. She sank onto the floor, curled her legs to her chest and began to cry.

  Lara wished she could take back the last few weeks, pretend she’d never met Connor, never knelt before him or called him Sir, never felt his belt or experienced the uninhibited eroticism that came from letting him share a fantasy.

  But as each memory returned, she wondered if that was true. If she hadn’t gone to him, she would have missed the pain, but she would never have had the experiences that had changed who she was.

  * * * *

  “You, my friend, don’t look like a man who has been on his honeymoon.”

  Over the finest bottle of whisky distilled by one of Kennedy Aldrich’s companies, Julien lifted his glass. Fuck.

  “I was waiting for you to tell me about it. I’ve been pretending I didn’t know that you’d removed Lara as an administrator from your calendar app. I’ve said nothing, nothing at all, not a single word about the fact no one has filed a completed certificate of matrimonial bliss with your name on it. Ergo…”

  He waited.

  “The wedding didn’t happen. You’re not married. In fact, you’re behaving like a rather miserable lout who no one wants to be around.” Julien lifted his glass. “How’d I do?”

  “You’re called a genius for a reason,” Connor agreed, downing the drink in a single swallow.

  Julien shuddered. “It’s for sipping, you heathen. Sipping.”

  He put down his glass.

  “What do you think of the club?” Julien asked.

  Julien had flown in to look at potential retail outlets for the next Bonds store, but at Kennedy’s behest, he was checking out the local lifestyle club. The place was on the market, and Kennedy was interested in either buying it or investing in it.

  “It’s not what I’m accustomed to,” Connor replied. Most clubs he’d been to weren’t this upscale. They were in warehouses where late-evening comings and goings didn’t bother residents. This was a house on several acres of secluded wooded land in exurban Houston, not likely to bother neighbors and offering plenty of discretion.

  The two-story home had been significantly modified, with beams installed for suspension play, and walls had been knocked out between former bedrooms, creating large, open spaces. There was a small lounge area with comfortable seating and small tables. Though alcohol wasn’t generally served, they’d been allowed to bring in their own because they weren’t participating in any scenes. “I’d say it has potential. I’d want to see the former owner’s profit and loss, though, before I got giddy about the possibilities.” From where they sat, they had a view of an open space that contained a spanking bench much like the one he had at home, one that he kept imagining Lara secured to.

  “You don’t get giddy about much. Never have.”

  “Why do I have a feeling I’m not going to like where this is going?” Connor asked.

  “Because I’m going to meddle in your life. And you never like that. Let’s just pretend this is a visit to the dentist and get it over with, shall we?”

  A few couples wandered past. Two walked upstairs while another helped themselves to complimentary soft drinks and sat at a nearby table.

  Since it was early, the music volume was still low, something he knew would change soon.

  “Bad shit happens in life,” Julien said.

  And because Julien knew what the hell he was talking about, Connor agreed. “Random odds.”

  “You have choices along the way. Your father being in love with Stormy didn’t get him killed.”

  He leveled a glance at his friend. “Proceed with caution.”

  “Oh, fuck bubbles. I didn’t travel more than a thousand miles not to plow ahead with careless disregard for life or limb. How many mad, dashing affairs have you had? Oh, wait. Don’t answer that. Dozens. So bloody many you need a statistician to help keep it straight.”

  “You have a point?”

  “No matter who you married, you wouldn’t have an affair. You wouldn’t put yourself in that position.”

  In the main room, a woman entered, wearing ridiculously high heels. She had shapely calves, a nicely curved ass…

  “You wouldn’t promise yourself to one woman then get another pregnant.”

  He tore his gaze away to look at Julien. “Love doesn’t cheat.”

  “There you are.”

  “There…? What?”

  “Love doesn’t have to be a messy thing. It can be uncomplicated. Pure. Sustaining. Something that keeps you going. Look at your grandfather and Miss Libby. They’ve birthed a dynasty and have looked out for each other for over half a century. Look to that. Look to them. You, Connor, are not capable of tearing apart families. It’s not in your moral fiber.”

  He looked back at the woman in the slinky, tight dress and the long hair. He couldn’t quite make out the color, but… “God damn you.” Anger propelled him to his feet.

  Julien grabbed him. “It’s not her.”

  Connor looked again.

  “It’s not,” Julien insisted.

  He looked more closely. Julien was right. It couldn’t possibly be Lara. The woman was much shorter, had a few more curves and her hair was significantly shorter. “How did you know?”

  “For whatever reason, the woman says she loves you.” With his finger, he made a little circle. “I know. Crazy talk, right? I’m sure she’s still healing. She’s not the type to go and replace you right away. I do question her judgment, though. Who the hell would give her heart to someone who wouldn’t protect it?”

  Those words ravaged him, as Julien had probably intended.

  It was his obligation, as a Dom, to have handled it better. As a Dom? Fuck, as a human being. As a man.

  The momentary blur of jealousy had taught him one thing. He could no longer deny the fact he loved Lara Bertrand. He just hoped his stupidity hadn’t cost him the first woman who’d been brave enough to love him. He couldn’t blame her if it had. He didn’t deserve her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The commotion of multiple dogs barking shattered the silence.

  “Suzy-Q, no!”

  Lara turned down the television volume. In one of her less-than spectacular moments, she’d chosen an Indiana Jones film to pass the evening. The theme music alone had been enough to send her back in time to Connor’s loft and the memory of snuggling on his couch. The sight of Indy with his bullwhip had made her squirm.

  Unbelievably, she still missed Connor with the same kind of intensity, even though she repeatedly soothed herself with the reminder that time healed everything. Anyone who believed that had not experienced the power of a single tail on her bare skin, delivered by a Dom who was skilled with his whip and generous with his orgasms.

  She was about to turn the volume back up when her doorbell rang. Wondering if Mrs. Fuhrman needed some help with her dogs, she slipped on a pair of flip-flops and answered the door.

  Suzy-Q stood there, a giant bouquet of flowers hanging from the side of her m
outh.

  Confused, she reached to take them from the dog, and just as she did, Connor stepped onto the porch.

  Her breath froze as she straightened.

  He looked every bit as disarming as he always did, in a light-gray sweater and charcoal-colored slacks.

  His jaw was shadowed and his eyes were smudged with fatigue.

  Suzy-Q jumped, banging her head into Lara’s. Connor reached to steady her as she dropped the flowers.

  “She never behaves like this,” Mrs. Fuhrman said, taking her time walking over. She had curlers in her hair, slippers on her feet and a robe cinched around her middle. “She saw the moving guy and forced open the front door. I shouted at her, but I couldn’t come over until I put a robe on. I’m so sorry, Lara. Are you all right? Suzy-Q, get down right now!”

  The dog happily did so, and she crushed the flowers beneath her bear-sized paw.

  “It was a much better idea in theory,” Connor said.

  “It was perfect.”

  He attached Suzy-Q’s leash and gave the dog back to Mrs. Fuhrman.

  “I think she wants to adopt you,” Mrs. Fuhrman said before walking away. “Sometimes dogs do that, you know.”

  Suddenly, it was just her and Connor. She leaned against the doorjamb, uncertain what to think, what to say, how to proceed.

  He picked up the bouquet. Some of the petals fell off and several of the heads had been severed. A few blooms drooped over the side of the protective cellophane.

  He offered it to her.

  “I’m not sure I’ve ever had a more perfect gift.” She accepted it and pressed it against her chest. “Thank you.”

  “Can I come in?”

  She hesitated. “If this is about the communications deal, it’s probably best if we meet at work.”

  “It’s about us.”

  Her heart seemed to stop beating. She held the bouquet so close she crushed the few remaining perfect blooms.

  “I’ll stand out here all night, if you want.”

  “Okay,” she said. It might be the only way to preserve her sanity. When he stood close, her resolve melted.