by Abby Gordon
Ben gave him a hard look.
"Only myself."
"Works for me,” Keith nodded, glad his friend understood. Except for Serena, Penny's safety came first. “Don't let her out of your sight."
Penny's gaze went from one man to the other.
"I don't need a bodyguard,” she said firmly.
"Penny, someone attacked Serena,” Keith started patiently. “And if you don't marry Mark and side with me, you just became another target.” Mostly, he added to himself, because they'd already gone after Serena.
She paled. Beyond them, Sanders’ radio squawked and he answered in a low voice.
"Me? Keith, this is our family you're talking about."
"I'm not taking a chance,” he said gently. “Please. Let Ben protect you."
With obvious reluctance, she nodded.
"I hate Mondays,” he muttered. “I really, really do."
Paul and David arrived and nodded at Keith before going to Claire. Paul pulled her to him. Too grateful for his strength to resist or protest his being there, Claire relaxed against him.
"Are you all right?” he asked. His eyes went over her face and he muttered an obscenity under his breath. “Where the hell is he?"
"In police custody,” Sanders replied. “He was just apprehended in his apartment. He's being processed and has requested his lawyer. I take it you're the boyfriend she just said she had?"
"Yes,” Paul nodded. “Are you done? Can I take her home?"
"I'll need her to come down to the station and sign a statement."
"Can't leave Debbie alone,” Claire whispered.
Ben spoke up, looking at the last man at his side.
"Quincy will take you home,” Ben told Debbie, then looked at Keith. “You need to get home as well. You've been a busy boy today."
"And tomorrow looks like it will be just as much fun,” he sighed. “I hate Mondays. I really do.” He looked at Adams. “If she wakes up, call me."
"You got it,” he replied with a nod.
Exhausted, Keith drove home and rode the elevator up to his apartment. Slowly he hung up his coat and walked down the hall. Inputting the code, he opened the door and entered the playroom. Closing his eyes, he inhaled, imagining he could still smell Serena's scent. He'd kept her safe, here. Here...his eyes fell on the spanking bench. Here, he'd been able to make sure nothing hurt her. She had felt only pleasure here. Here, he'd felt more joy, more contentment, more sexual pleasure, more...just more everything. They had fucked, talked, slept, and repeated the cycle until he'd finally had to let her go. He hadn't slept at all Sunday night. He kept reaching for her warm little body and she hadn't been there. Because he'd let her go.
He went to the window. While their office suite overlooked the lights of Manhattan, this view displayed the river, the Statue of Liberty and the endless horizon of the ocean. Serena had stood staring out at it late Saturday night. Coming from the bedroom, he'd seen her, pressed her to the glass, and fucked her from behind. She'd been hoarse from her screams, but managed to tell him she loved the sight of the ocean. Would she want to come here again after tonight? He'd promised to protect her yet failed miserably. Turning, he looked at the spanking bench, the padded table where he'd bound her and tormented every sensitive nerve in her body until she'd begged him to fuck her, the large X they hadn't yet used, and the chest with all his toys and gear.
She wouldn't want to come back, and he couldn't imagine using anything on anyone else. Head bowed, he left the room, closing the door behind him.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Ten
Keith concluded that Tuesdays were almost as bad as Mondays. To take advantage of her social contacts, he'd put Penny in PR to help Jason. Her obvious delight in being able to do something useful had put the day in the plus column. But just barely.
Flanked by Paul and David, he discussed the legal situation all day. Mark's firing was fairly cut and dried especially after his attack on Serena the night before. Duncan and the others, however, had already filed lawsuits for wrongful termination. While Keith and the company were media darlings and had the support of the public, the legal situation was not as clear-cut. Duncan and his underlings claimed they'd had nothing to do with Mark.
Paul and David were working with the police and private investigators to establish a link between Duncan, Mark, and Keith's father, uncle, and anyone else. The police were skeptical when Keith brought it up, but Penny had been able to provide more information.
He'd called the hospital four times and each time Serena had been sleeping. Guilt convinced him that she'd realized he was Master. Because he had failed so spectacularly at protecting her, he figured she was avoiding him, that she didn't want him as her dominant. Returning to his penthouse, he put something in the microwave and stared off into space. When the appliance beeped, he jumped. Pulling the cardboard container out, he stared at it, trying to remember what it was. Standing at the counter, he ate half of it before tossing the rest in the trash and dropping his fork in the sink. Going to his room, he didn't bother turning on the lights. Letting his clothes fall to the floor, he crawled into bed. It was nearly midnight. Closing his eyes, he inhaled Serena's scent and flinched as if receiving a physical blow. Rolling off the mattress, he went to his exercise room to work off some demons.
On Tuesday he discovered another side of his cousin. Penny liked to mother people. Apparently deciding that Keith wasn't taking care of himself, she went to the cafeteria and brought him lunch. Barely knocking, she came in, Ben a step behind her. Keith nodded at him.
"I'll keep an eye on her."
"I'll be at Serena's desk catching up on my laptop,” Ben nodded, stepping back and closing the door behind him.
Penny sighed loudly.
"I really don't think I need a babysitter,” she told him.
"I really think you need a bodyguard,” he replied, saving his document and slowly looking up at her. “It's not up for debate, Penny. I've already had calls from both our fathers to send you back home."
Grimacing she nodded and sat down.
"What's wrong?” she asked, putting the sandwich and salad before him. “Don't give me that look. Eat.” She put a pint of milk next to the sandwich. “Is Serena okay?"
"I've no idea,” he grumbled, peeling the cellophane off the turkey sandwich. “No one will tell me anything."
"Have you called her friends?"
Giving her a quick smile, he pulled out the piece of paper with the women's information. Stabbing at the numbers on his phone, he closed his eyes as he waited for someone to answer.
"Claire? Keith MacLauren. The hospital won't tell me...” He nodded, relief on his face. “Thank you. No, no, she shouldn't worry about coming in. Monday is fine, or whenever she feels up to it.” He listened, nodding. “Of course. Please tell her. Thank you."
"Well?” Penny prompted.
"She'll be released tomorrow. Claire said Serena was talking about coming in to work as soon as she left the hospital."
"She has a concussion,” Penny shook her head. “Plus everything else that beast did to her.” She shivered. “Keith, promise me that you won't hide anything about any man I date from me again."
"Hey!” he protested around a bite of sandwich. “That was as much a surprise to me as anyone else! And you're the one who didn't want to believe that he'd hit Serena."
She slumped in the chair, nodding.
"God, I know how to pick'em, don't I? Maybe I should take a vow of celibacy or something. Join a convent."
"I don't think you'd make a very good nun,” Keith told her wryly. “I think they have to take a vow of poverty as well."
"Okay, that might be a problem,” she acknowledged with a laugh. “Feel better now that you've eaten?"
"Yes, mother dear,” he smiled. “Get back to work before your boss reprimands you for slacking off."
Laughing, Penny stood and leaned over the desk.
"Between you and me,” she whispered, “My boss
needs a vacation. Like, now. Somewhere warm. Away from the bullshit he's had to deal with. Find someone to take his mind off of everything."
"Enough, Pen,” he frowned, not liking her talk of companionship. He'd blown that and didn't want to think about it.
Hours later Penny stormed back into Keith's office and she started in on him about Ben's constant presence,
"Enough already with the mother hen, all right?” she told him in exasperation. “I can't even go to the ladies’ room without Mr. Brooding standing outside."
"Penny, I won't take a chance on someone else I care about being hurt,” he said quietly. “When Serena leaves the hospital, are you volunteering to replace her there?
Leaning back in his chair, he watched his cousin and regretted his words and actions. It was obvious Penny saw the exhaustion in his every move. And more than he realized he'd revealed. But this was his cousin, he told himself. He could relax his guard around her, right?
"You love her, don't you?” she whispered, sitting down.
"I'm not loving anyone,” he retorted. Okay, Penny was more observant than he thought.
"You're not Uncle Ken. You're not my father,” she offered. “And you would never treat a woman the way they have. Or the way Mark did.” Approaching him, she stood next to his chair. “Keith, why don't you talk to her?"
"Talk to who?"
"Serena, for Pete's sake! She's supposed to be released from the hospital tomorrow. Go get her. Take a huge bouquet of roses. Tell her you love her!"
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"Penny, why the hell would she want to be with me?"
"Well,” Penny frowned, tapping her finger against her chin. “You dress decently. You're literate. Your hygiene's pretty good. And you have decent table manners. Oh, and the most important thing...you can spit a watermelon seed farther than anyone I've ever seen."
Keith snorted, remembering the summer on the Cape so many years ago.
"How can you remember that?” he murmured. “You were barely four."
"I've always thought you were the best,” she told him.
"Except when I'm jealous of Mark?"
She winced.
"Sorry about that,” she sighed. “I wasn't thinking clearly.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Keith, go tell—"
"Penny, I didn't protect her from Mark,” he ground out, shoving his chair away from the desk. He paced over to the window. “Why the hell would she want to be with me?"
"How could you have known Mark would go after her?” Penny demanded. “You're not God, Keith. You're a man."
"I didn't protect her,” he whispered, shaking his head. “She won't want to be with me.” His head whipped around to pin her with a look. “And don't say anything to her, understand me? This is my personal life and I want you to stay out of it."
"You are a stubborn, bull-headed man who is so caught up in your own ego that you'd rather let her go than be human like the rest of us,” Penny glared at him. “Why would she want to be with someone so stupid, blind, and narrow-minded?"
Stalking out, she slammed the door.
Clenching his jaw, Keith turned back to stare at his city.
That evening, he went to the brownstone. The super recognized him and let him into Serena's apartment. It was still a mess from the previous night. Not wanting her to return to that, he began straightening things as much as he could. A lamp clicked on. Startled, he turned around and stared at the painting highlighted by the spotlight. Serena had said that her buying the piece, instead of taking Todd on a cruise, had led to their break-up argument. Keith moved closer to examine it. A deceptively simple scene at first glance—a peaceful meadow with a creek and mountains in the background. If one looked closer, the eye could see the details of the flowers and butterflies in the meadow, animals just inside the trees and hawks soaring about the mountains. Fairly impressive, he thought, realizing she knew art. Just as she had recognized the quality of the vase.
Suddenly wondering where it was, he glanced into the kitchen before going to her bedroom. The bed was rumpled and a pillow was on the floor. Keith fought down the fury as he realized just how close she'd come to being raped. Grimacing, he turned to leave and paused. On the nightstand, resting on a lace doily, was the vase and wilting rose. Following his instincts, he opened the double drawer and smiled at the sight of the things he'd sent her. Reaching in, his finger brushed the cuffs. How he would have loved to have seen her in them!
Suddenly the pain of never having Serena again, of being nothing more to her than her boss, made him fall to his knees and lean against the bed. He turned his face to the mattress to smother his shout. All the fury and helplessness he'd felt since Claire described the attack broke free. Resting his head on the mattress, he beat his fists against the bed. His Serena had been threatened, attacked, and saved by others. He hadn't done anything.
Emotionally drained, he replaced the pillow and straightened the comforter. Turning the light off, he closed the bedroom door and went to the painting. Penny was right, he admitted. He loved Serena. And would never be able to tell her. Fighting back tears, he left the apartment.
Finally able to see visitors, Serena knew she should be more grateful to see Claire and Debbie. And she was. They'd saved her from being raped and possibly killed. But they weren't who she desperately wanted to see. Their chatter about all the changes at work didn't get a reaction from her. Debbie had been promoted and given a major project to work on. Claire already loved working for Jason, compared to what she called her ‘indenture’ under Mark. Serena just stared at the skyline. The floor was high enough for her to see the Statue of Liberty. And that brought back erotic memories she couldn't think about with her friends present. She didn't even react when Claire passed on a message from Keith that she was to take the week off to recover and not return until the following Monday. When she was finally alone, she pressed the speed dial on her phone and after two rings got voice mail. The distorted voice she knew as Master didn't say anything more than “leave a message.” Finally, after the nurse checked her vitals at two in the morning, she called again.
"Master?” she whispered. “I need to talk to you. Please, call me."
Closing the phone, she stared out the window of her hospital room.
For two days, she lay there, forbidden to get up beyond going to the bathroom. One of the three guards was always in the room. She asked who had told them to watch her. When they mentioned Keith, she fought the disappointment that washed over her.
She knew she should be grateful for Keith's concern. He'd come to the hospital right after the attack, arranged for her and Debbie's protection—as it was clear Paul and David were not leaving Claire's side—and understood that she would not want to go to work until the bruises started to fade. Even though he knew he would need her in the office, he had insisted she not come in until she was ready.
Relieved and able to focus on recovering, she was also left to her own thoughts. Thoughts that increasingly reviewed the weekend. Had she unknowingly done something that upset or angered Master? She couldn't figure it out. She was fairly certain she hadn't done anything before Mark had burst into her apartment. If she had, he wouldn't have sent the box with the note saying he would be coming over. So why wasn't he answering the phone? Why hadn't he come to see her? The attack, along with all the corporate turmoil, had been on the front page of every NYC paper—"CEO's Assistant Attacked After Mass Firings” and “PR VP's Revenge on CEO's Assistant” and “MacLauren Cleans House and Assistant Pays Price.” She hated that one and knew Keith was grinding his teeth about all the publicity.
And still no word from Master. Each hour without hearing his voice hurt more.
Finally allowed to leave the hospital Wednesday evening, Serena spent most of the next few days resting. Her parents called daily, trying to convince her to leave the “big, bad, dangerous city” and come home. It was what they'd been saying ever since she had left college, but now she was seriously c
onsidering it. She'd gone as far as she could professionally unless she went into management. With Master ignoring her daily messages asking him to call her, she knew there was nothing here for her personally. She promised her mother she would think about it and let her know at Christmas.
Serena called him daily, but couldn't bring herself to say anything besides a few words. She was afraid she'd break down and beg. Trying to feel closer to him, she poured through the books, especially the second one he'd given her. It only increased her conviction she had been a born submissive. Her dreams had been made real and then snatched away. She desperately wanted Master to call her, to claim her, to control her. She even tried to repeat the previous Friday night and nearly screamed in frustration when she couldn't reach orgasm. The book explained why, but that only upset her more. Evidently once a submissive surrendered to a dominant, especially if an emotional bond was established, it might be nearly impossible for the submissive to orgasm without the dominant present in some way.
After working nearly twenty-hour days, exhaustion demanded Keith rest—whether he liked it or not—on Saturday. Unable to sleep in his bedroom, he'd transferred a few clothes to the guest room and slept on top of that bed's covers.
Waking Sunday, he focused bleary eyes on the clock, shocked to see it was nearly noon. He'd actually slept for twelve hours. With coffee and a decent breakfast in his system, he went to his home office. After fifteen minutes though, he reached for the phone. There were certain advantages, he grinned, in owning the building that housed your company, your home, and that of the person most likely to offer insight into your current situation live in.
"Francine? It's Keith. Is Grant there?” A moment later the older man's voice came on. “I need your advice. Mind if I come by?"
Eschewing the elevator, Keith took the stairs to the floor below, where Grant had the entire level. Francine, dressed in a pale lavender silk caftan, waited with the door open.
"Hello, Keith,” she smiled warmly, kissing her cheek. “Finally get some sleep?"
"I'm punchy I got so much,” he nodded. “How's the little one?"
