48 Hours

by Callista Arman

  “Fuck,” he whispered softly.

  The waiter smirked. “You said it, buddy.”

  * * * * *

  Rafael Montevale’s eyes were dark, smiling, and oh-so sexy. They were rich, brown velvet—and the only soft thing about him. The rest of his handsome features were angular, almost severe, but there was an aura of patience about him. Combined with his height, broad chest and the power Maddie could feel emanating from his body, the total effect of Rafael’s presence was enough to make her swoon.

  Every female head in the restaurant followed her progress as Rafael guided her to a secluded table for two in the back of the restaurant. A fawning waiter pulled out her chair. She settled into it, watching Rafael from beneath her lashes as he took the seat opposite. The man was everything she’d imagined a Dom to be.

  Her stomach tightened almost painfully. Rafael owned this club—he had to be a Dom, didn’t he? God, she hoped so. She hoped tonight would be the night she experienced in the flesh what she’d only dared to dream about. Even though a small, annoyingly lucid part of her mind wondered if she’d gone completely insane to come here.

  The waiter shook out her napkin and spread it on her lap. The wine steward approached. Rafael ordered an expensive champagne, then turned his attention to Maddie.

  “So,” he said with a smile. “What do you think of my humble establishment?”

  Maddie looked around. Humble? The restaurant’s furnishings were anything but. Marble floors, ancient statuary, Oriental carpets, graceful arched alcoves, original artwork displayed on the rich paneled walls.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  The waiter arrived. Rafael ordered for both of them, calling for a selection of the chef’s specials for the evening—lobster ravioli and stuffed Cornish hens.

  Maddie’s fingers curled around the stem of her wineglass. Things were going well. All she had to do was relax. But how could she do that? Her stomach was tied up in knots. She was sure she was going to say something stupid.

  “Are you troubled, cara?”

  The gentle endearment made her blush. “No. Not at all,” she managed. She raised her wineglass to her lips.

  Just as she was about to take a sip, Patrick sidled into view just beyond Rafael’s left shoulder. The maitre d’ led him to a small table for two. He took the seat facing Maddie, sat back and met her gaze squarely.

  The expression in his eyes shook her. Even from a distance, she could feel his disapproval. He’d wanted to choose her companion for the night, she realized. He hadn’t liked it one bit that Rafael had swept her away. His reaction surprised her. She hadn’t thought Patrick was the kind of guy who needed to be in control.

  He lifted his brows at her. She looked away.

  “How long have you owned this club?” she asked Rafael.

  “Several years.”

  They chatted about trivial things. Maddie told Rafael she’d love to live in a real house rather than a condo, trying her best to ignore Patrick’s watchful eye. He told her of his boyhood in Italy and how he’d come to America twenty years earlier while working for an importer of fine art. He was charming and polite. He asked questions about her career, which she answered sparingly. She didn’t want him to know too much.

  “And do you enjoy your work, Madeline?”

  It was weird. She’d always hated her given name, but on Rafael’s lips it sounded like a forbidden pleasure.

  “Most of the time,” she admitted. “But not always. It can be very stressful.”

  “And when that happens, how do you relax?”

  “Relax?” She laughed. “I hardly know the meaning of that word.”

  “A shame, cara. Is there no one to distract you from your cares? What of the man who accompanied you here?”

  “Patrick? He’s just a friend.”

  “A friend who did not approve of my taking you away from him,” Rafael said. “He is protective.”

  Only because I’m paying him to be. For some reason, that thought bothered her. She resisted the urge to look toward Patrick’s table. “He’s not my boyfriend,” she said.

  The conversation continued and Maddie found herself becoming more at ease. She felt comfortable with Rafael, she realized. Safe. By the time the dinner came, she’d had several glasses of champagne and wine and was feeling rather mellow. She basked in Rafael’s attentiveness, but from time to time, her gaze flicked to Patrick. His posture was stiff—as far as she could tell, he drank only water. Maybe if he’d ordered a beer, his expression wouldn’t be so grim.

  He was taking his wingman responsibilities seriously. Maddie supposed that was a good thing—after all, it was Maddie who’d insisted he keep an eye on her. But now that the evening was underway, she wondered if the bodyguard thing was overkill. Rafael was a prominent business owner. He wasn’t likely to harm her.

  She caught Patrick’s eye and sent him a subtle, one-finger wave toward the exit, trying to tell him to leave. His only response was a slight tightening of his jaw. She let her hand drop to the table.

  Rafael caught it. His brows lifted as he examined her ragged fingernails. Too late, she tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t allow it. She curled her fingers into a fist, hiding her nails.

  He gave a slight shake of his head. “You are too young to be so anxious about life, cara.”

  “I’m not…my life is fine. Chewing my nails is just a bad habit.”

  His expression gentled. His long, warm fingers stroked hers. Her hand relaxed and her fingers uncurled. She watched, mesmerized, as he placed a kiss on her palm. The caress of his lips in that intimate spot caused a tingling between her legs.

  The urge to lay her head on his broad chest hit her hard. He was so solid, so reassuring. She longed to feel his arms wrapped around her.

  He caught her gaze as he stroked her palm with his thumb. Delicious shivers rippled through her pussy. God, she wanted him already. That never happened. Usually it took weeks to work up enthusiasm for a new boyfriend.

  His eyes were sober. “Madeline, I find I must ask. Many people come to my club seeking a certain thing. Do you know what that is?”

  She couldn’t look away. “Yes.”

  A slight smile played about his lips. “And you came here because of it?”

  “Yes again.”

  He looked inordinately pleased. “Then I would like to offer you a proposal, cara.”

  Oh, God. “All right.”

  “I want to make love to you. I want to watch you come apart in my arms.”

  Could a declaration be any more erotic? Hot liquid bathed her thighs. “I…I’d like that,” she managed.

  “But you must know one thing before we go any further. I require obedience in all things.” He watched her intently. “Do you know what I mean by that, Madeline?”

  Maddie saw a sudden image of herself, wrists and ankles bound, helpless, as this beautiful man bent over her. Touched her. Her pussy contracted. “Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, I think I do.”

  His gaze flicked to her breasts. Her nipples were hard and aching—she was sure he could see them clearly through the soft fabric of her dress.

  “The thought arouses you.”

  She licked her dry lips. “Yes.”

  “But you’ve never taken on the role of a submissive.”

  “What…what makes you say that?”

  He smiled faintly. “You have the look of an innocent,” he said. The smile faded as he leaned closer. He was still stroking her palm. Now his warm breath tickled her forehead. “I will restrain you,” he murmured. “Tie you up. Use you any way I desired. I’ll take your mouth, your pussy, even your beautiful ass. And you would be powerless to stop me.”

  Maddie gripped the edge of the table with her free hand.

  “You will have no responsibilities,” he continued. “Your only task would be to feel the emotions I allow you to feel.” He sat back and released her hand. “Will you give this gift to me, Madeline?”

 
She shut her eyes. Oh, God, she wanted to say yes. She did. So why couldn’t she force the word from her throat?

  “I’m not asking for forever, cara. I require only forty-eight hours.”

  Her eyes flew open. “Forty-eight hours?” She’d wanted a few hours, no more. “But that’s almost the whole weekend.”

  “Two days is barely time enough for what I have in mind. You’ve not played this particular game before—there is so much I must teach you in order for you to gain your highest pleasure. The decision, however, must be yours.”

  Maddie’s brow furrowed. She had a new case to prepare for—she was meeting with the client nine a.m. Monday morning. She’d planned to spend the weekend going through the case file. Her fingers twisted in her lap, her index finger digging into the hangnail on the opposite thumb.

  Rafael began to rise. “It was a pleasure to dine with you, cara.”

  “No,” she said quickly. “Don’t go.”

  He looked down at her. “I need your decision, Madeline. Now. My time is valuable—I do not give it lightly.”

  Maddie gazed up at him, her heart pounding as her mind raced. She’d reviewed her upcoming case last night. It wasn’t a difficult one—she could bluff her way through the initial client meeting on Monday morning. And there was precious little else claiming her time.

  Do it, a little voice in her head urged. Just do it. It’s only two days. Forty-eight hours. And Rafael was her dream. When would she ever get another chance like this?

  Still, the lawyer in her wasn’t ready to relinquish control. “We need to discuss parameters.”

  Rafael laughed out loud, genuinely amused. His smile made him look almost boyish, Maddie thought. Her heart contracted.

  “You’re very direct,” he commented.

  “I try to be.”

  He hadn’t resumed his seat. He moved very close, forcing her to drop her head back to maintain eye contact. The position made her a little dizzy.

  “Very well,” he said. “If you accept my proposal, you agree to give me your complete obedience for forty-eight hours. Your body will be mine to do with as I choose. There will be no safe word, no retreat, before the time is up.” His low voice was firm and utterly possessive, broaching no disagreement.

  No man had ever dared talk to Maddie this way.

  She shifted in her seat, trying to assuage the sudden throbbing in her clit. Rafael’s eyes flicked downward, his mouth quirking at the corners. He knew.

  “If you grant me your obedience, I promise you will not regret your choice. Your pleasure is my goal. I’ll explore your tolerances, but there will be boundaries. I will not mark you. I do not tolerate drugs. There will be no golden showers, no strangulation.” He reached out and touched her cheek. “And for every new liaison, I insist on safe sexual practices. You needn’t fear on that score, cara.”

  Maddie’s breathing had gone so shallow she was starting to feel lightheaded. “What about pain?” she whispered.

  The expression in his dark eyes heated. “There will be pain, yes, but no more than I deem is necessary to enhance your pleasure. On this you must trust me.”

  Trust a man she’d only just met? To hurt her? It was crazy, but the way her body was thrumming with arousal, she knew she wanted to do just that. “And afterwards? When the forty-eight hours are over?”

  Rafael’s gaze shuttered. His smile remained in place, but it seemed to Maddie the joy behind it had evaporated. “We will cross that bridge when we come to it.”

  Silence fell between them, thick and almost unbearable. Maddie’s heart pounded in her ears. He allowed her a few moments’ contemplation while he resumed his seat opposite her.

  “Well, Madeline?” he said softly. “You have only one decision to make, right now. If you give me your trust, you will do nothing for forty-eight hours but obey me. If you choose not to, there is no penalty. I wish you nothing but the best.”

  Maddie’s heart pounded. Did she dare? Could she trust her body and soul to this handsome stranger for two days?

  She searched his eyes. She saw a question there, but also a quiet confidence. Not vanity—she suspected he had little of that. No, it was much more. She sensed there was nothing Rafael couldn’t handle, no event he couldn’t control. Because of that, she suspected he had no need for dishonesty.

  His eyes were kind. They drew her in, made her want to wrap herself around him. Go down on her knees before him. He was a good fifteen years older than she—the subtle weariness in his eyes told her he’d seen much, endured much.

  His hands were big, with long elegant fingers. They rested lightly on the white tablecloth as he waited for her reply. His face held no expression, except, perhaps a hint of humor. He was enjoying himself, she realized. As if he already knew what her answer would be and found it amusing to watch her come to the conclusion on her own.

  One tiny word would bring her fantasy to life. Did she have the courage to say it? She tore her gaze from Rafael. Quite by accident, she found herself staring at Patrick.

  He was scowling darkly. God, she’d never seen him so look fierce. She wouldn’t have thought he could manage it.

  Rafael’s voice brought her back. His tone was firm. Unyielding.

  “Your answer, cara. I will have it now.”

  Her hands were shaking. She clasped them in her lap, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

  “Yes,” she said as calmly as she could manage. “I accept your proposal. Starting this moment, I’m yours for forty-eight hours.”

  * * * * *

  Rafael gazed into Madeline’s dark, expressive eyes. It was only after she’d given her answer that he realized how afraid he’d been that she would reject his offer. His hands were actually trembling—he picked up his wineglass to hide it. What good had he done in his life, to deserve this sudden good fortune?

  He thought of Mariella, how the light in her eyes had gradually dimmed until it had gone out entirely. This woman before him wasn’t his beloved, but for a few hours, perhaps, she could be something close to what his soul craved.

  He cleared his tight throat with a cough. “A toast, then, cara. To seal our bargain.”

  “All right.” Madeline gave him a tremulous smile and lifted her glass. “To us. And the next forty-eight hours.”

  Chapter Three

  Shit. Maddie’d fallen for the slick Italian bastard.

  Patrick ground his teeth. Maddie was going to leave with Montevale. He could see it in the way she leaned toward him and touched his arm. In the way she looked down and blushed when he spoke. In that pink wisp of a dress, smiling and flirting, she looked so soft. So vulnerable. Not like the Maddie he knew. She looked like the Maddie of his D/s dreams.

  He started to get hard. “Fuck it.”

  “Excuse me, sir?”

  Patrick jerked his head around to find a waiter at his elbow. Damn, he hated ritzy places like this. The wait staff was constantly hovering, replacing untouched silverware and topping off full water glasses.

  “Is your dinner not to your liking?”

  Patrick looked down at his untouched steak. He barely remembered ordering the thing. “It’s fine,” he said tersely.

  The waiter withdrew, a worried crease in his brow. Patrick shifted his gaze back to Maddie. Did a submissive personality hide under her sassy, confident façade? The thought set him on fire.

  She was laughing at something Montevale said. Touching his hand. An overpowering wave of jealousy hit. Was Maddie going to let this stranger tie her up? Flog her? Fuck her any way he wanted? If Patrick’d had the guts to make a move on Maddie first, could he have been her Dom?

  Montevale signaled to the waiter and gave him some brief instruction. A moment later, the man returned and handed the Italian a leather briefcase. Montevale opened it and extracted what looked like a long velvet jeweler’s box. He handed the box to Maddie. She snapped it open and stared at the contents for a long while.

  Montevale rose, circling the table until he was standing behind Maddie. Reachin
g past her, he lifted a long chain from the box. Silver links caught in the light, flashing softly as the chain encircled Maddie’s neck. She lifted her hair from her nape and inclined her head as he fastened the clasp.

  The chain was a collar, Patrick realized with a start.

  Still standing behind Maddie, Montevale placed his palms on her shoulders. Leaning low, he whispered something in her ear. Maddie fingered the collar, tugging on the clasp as if trying to undo it. Apparently she couldn’t, for after a moment she lowered her arms. She tilted her head back, meeting Montevale’s gaze. She gave him a small smile. Patrick saw a flicker of apprehension in her eyes, but that emotion was nothing compared to the lust he saw there. Her hips wriggled. Her nipples beaded under the fabric of her dress.

  If Patrick had any lingering doubts that Maddie had walked into this situation blind, they vanished in that moment. Maddie had known all along what Montevale’s was. She’d come here on purpose. To find a Dom.

  Patrick nearly groaned out loud as a vision of Madeline Brindisi, Esq., kneeling in submission, head bowed, wrists bound behind her back. A man came into view, threaded his hands through Maddie’s hair. Guided Maddie’s slick red lips to his engorged cock. The scene was Patrick’s every fantasy come true.

  Except for one detail—Patrick wasn’t the man in the picture.

  * * * * *

  The silver chain was cool on Maddie’s neck. But with each shallow breath she took, the metal warmed, as if learning her body. Each link was large enough to hook her pinkie finger through, yet the necklace somehow managed to feel delicate encircling her throat. She knew that was an illusion, however. After the clasp had clicked in place, Rafael had invited her to try to remove the necklace. To her surprise, she couldn’t. The metal was too strong, the fastener locked tight. And of course, the circle was too small to draw over her head.

  It would remain in place, Rafael had told her, for forty-eight hours.

  The delicate clink of metal sounded like bells when she moved her head. It was an effective reminder that she’d deeded the rights to her body to the man who had placed it there for two entire days. What would the weekend bring? A host of fantasy images danced in her head. Some made her feel eager, others brought apprehension. All of them aroused her.