Hyland's Consort

by Felicity Brandon

  “Just something to remind you of your place.” He sniggered, gesturing for me to turn around. Heart pounding, I turned to face the tray of breakfast offerings. “Hold your hair up, beautiful.”

  With my back to him, I was vulnerable, but I didn’t dare to query the order. Reaching back, I grasped at my tresses, collecting them at the back of my head as he pressed in behind me. Trembling at the heat of his breath, my throat dried as he silently passed the unexplained item around my neck. Despite my raging apprehension about what the addition meant, it was insanely erotic to have him so close behind me. Usually, our interactions were monotonic—I knelt while he stood, I served, while he commanded—but this... this felt different. As he secured the off necklace, my eyes fluttered closed in anticipation.

  “There.” He tugged it gently, drawing my attention back to the room as I glanced back to meet his burning gaze. The devil glimmered in his eyes, the same nefarious glint I’d seen so many times, but this time, I was on my feet with him, dressed like he was. We were something akin to equals.

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “You look wonderful.” One of his arms snaked around my middle, drawing me flush against his body, and even though I should have resisted the contact, should have detested being this close to the man who’d tormented me, I found I didn’t want to. I liked the proximity and wanted to pant at the way his breath tickled the sensitive skin of my neck. It was almost... intimate. “Every inch my bride-to-be.”

  “Sir.” The word escaped my lips, the guttural sound reminiscent of a groan.

  “Hmmm?” His free hand traveled down my skirt, brushing beneath it and grazing a hot line up my inner thigh. By the time he’d reached my sex, I was breathless. For the first time, I truly wanted him. It wasn’t just the situation that made me hot and needy, but the man instigating it. “What is it, little girl?”

  Oh God. My eyes fluttered closed at his choice of vocabulary. I didn’t understand why those words were so fucking hot. There should have been nothing sexy about being patronized, about being referred to as someone less than him. I wanted to ask him what would happen to me, wanted to know if he was hell-bent on this insidious plan, but with his hands at my flesh and his lips brushing my nape, it was all I could do to think straight, let alone speak.

  “Are you ready to go?” He chuckled, the laughter taunting me, goading my core as if it meant something, as if he cared.

  Pulling in a shaky breath, I tried to think. He was playing with me, as he always did, but the fire in his gaze stirred something deep within, something no one else had awakened before—not even Saul.

  “Yes, I think so, Sir.”

  “Good girl.” Wandering around me, he pressed me against his chest, tipping my chin to meet his gaze, and for one tantalizing moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. I yearned for it, the craving more powerful than it had a right to be. “All you need do is remember who you are and what you’re there for.” His fingers tightened at my chin. “Can you do that for me, gorgeous?”

  “Yes.” I nodded as far as his digits allowed, my mind fogging, despite the protests in my head. He wanted a docile, obedient woman—a servant, not a wife—but for some reason, those rational ideas couldn’t permeate the visceral shroud that seemed to have fallen over me. “I can do that, Sir.”

  “Wonderful.” Sean’s gaze widened a fraction, his pupils dilating, pulling me deeper under his spell, and leaning closer to my face, he offered one fleeting moment of connection.

  Chapter Eight

  Sean

  WE TRAVELED IN SILENCE, her lips satisfyingly still since I’d claimed them back at the house. The kiss had been fleeting, and far more gratifying caresses waited in the future, but the frantic plea in her eyes or the way she’d settled after the contact hadn’t gone unnoticed. Hilary hadn’t even complained when I’d slipped her wrists into cuffs in front of her.

  “Are you warm enough?” I murmured, tugging her across the vast leather interior to join me.

  “I’m fine, Sir.” She cast her gaze to her lap, and I had the sense she was embarrassed to use the title in front of Cole. I smiled. Hilary would have to get over that concern and fast. She’d be addressing me correctly from now on, whoever was in earshot.

  “No, you’re not,” I decided, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulder. In my enthusiasm to choose a dress for her, I’d completely overlooked the need for an outer layer. The reality was, as winter neared, she would need something going forward. “Come here.”

  Sighing, her shoulders fell at my insistence, but to her credit, she leaned toward me, her honeyed tresses falling into the crook of my neck. Glancing up, I caught sight of Cole’s gaze in the rearview mirror. Naturally, Zander’s old driver said nothing, but the curiosity in his eyes was clear to see.

  Glancing out of the window, I watched the shitty streets of the city crawl past, my attention inevitably returning to the woman snuggled at my side. I watched as her fingers laced at her lap, the cuffs ensuring her docility, though I also noted a change in her. Ever since I’d kept her caged in that room, bound to the chair and constantly denied, she’d been considerably more compliant, considerably more suitable to my means.

  Closing the intercom between us and the front of the vehicle, I leaned into her.

  “Are you worried?”

  Hilary turned to me, her eyes wide and uncertain. Something about her palpable trepidation roused me, and not only in the normal, sick way fear always did when it shone in my victim’s eyes but in a new and disturbing way. I wanted to respond to that anxiety, to hold her closer and kiss that dread away. Lifting my chin, I stared into the back seat. Why did I want to do that? Why offer comfort to the woman I’d taken without consent? I didn’t care about her point of view, did I? I’d never given her a right to an opinion.

  “I don’t know what to expect, Sir.” Tension fizzed in her voice, though I could tell she fought to contain it.

  “You know what I expect from you,” I teased. “What I always expect.” My gaze fell over her again, hungry eyes devouring the swell of her breasts beneath her dress. There was no lingerie under that outfit, a fact that stimulated me beyond reason.

  “Yes, Sir.” She blew out a breath. “But I don’t know what you want me to sign.”

  “Is that all you’re worried about?” My lips twitched at her concern, such a small thing in the grand scheme. “It’s nothing, just a few papers Crane needs to complete before our big day.”

  Her lips parted as if she intended to speak, but she closed them again, swallowing down whatever grievance had surfaced.

  “And yes,” I continued, already sensing where her had mind had traveled to. “I am still going ahead with that, Hilary. It is happening.”

  Her brow creased. “I still don’t understand, Mr. Hyland.” She shrugged under my embrace. “Why do you want me so badly? You must be able to have your pick of women.”

  She had a point. The Sean Hyland of old had certainly chosen any girl he wanted on his arm, but meeting Hilary had altered something. I wasn’t the same man who’d landed from Nice, at least, not entirely that man.

  “There’s something about you.” I didn’t mention the major draw that she was Morrison’s girl, the urge for revenge muting almost every other impulse. I might have treated her like crap, but she deserved better than that insult, and over the time I’d had her, our connection had evolved. It was about more than Morrison now. It was about the primal pull between us, the fact I couldn’t get enough of her, the fiery lust constantly lapping at me, compelling my every action. I wanted Hilary in my life, and as with everything in my life, I always got what I wanted.

  “I want to be your husband.” My lips curled at the concession, hardly believing what I was saying. Even in my twisted world, it was quite an admission. Hyland men rarely seemed to marry, and when they did, it never ended well.

  “You mean it?” She tilted her head as if she could assess my sincerity from a new perspective. “I mean, you can’t possibly love me.”r />
  Moving closer to her face, I brushed my mouth over hers.

  “Don’t forget your manners, little girl.” I watched as a pleasing blush filled her face, the heat warming my flesh.

  “I’m sorry, Sir.”

  “Better.” Shifting in my place, I turned to face her properly, lifting one hand to caress her warm cheek. “And no, it’s fair to say I don’t love you, but that doesn’t mean I won’t look after you.”

  Her lip trembled.

  “Doesn’t mean I won’t take care of your needs and make sure you’re fulfilled.”

  Hilary’s eyes closed as she absorbed the response. “And you don’t care that I don’t love you, Sir?”

  “Love me?” I laughed at her pitiful query. “Darling, I reckon you probably hate me right about now.”

  Her face blanched. “It’s not like that, Sir.”

  Frankly, I begged to differ. I’d witnessed the loathing swilling in her eyes over the last few days, and I couldn’t blame her. I’d have likely reacted the same way if someone had snatched me from my life, taken away my liberty, and made unilateral choices about my future. Her reactions were perfectly normal.

  “Really?” I paused, considering her expression for signs she was jesting, but her face was passive, expectant. “Well, if not, then brilliant.” My hand lowered to her nape, holding her in place as I considered the woman at my side. “Maybe one day, you’ll have feelings for me that are more positive. Until then, you’ll be at my side and do as you’re told.”

  Letting out a small sigh, her gaze darted over my shoulder, the intensity of my stare apparently too much for her to tolerate.

  “What about me, Sir?” Her voice was a croaky whisper.

  “What about you?”

  “My life, my friends and family.” Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment. “What about them?”

  “You miss them.” It was more a statement of the obvious than a question. Of course, she missed them. You couldn’t just pluck someone from their dull existence and expect no repercussions. There would always be consequences for Hilary, for us both.

  “Yes.” Her eyes met mine, watery and imploring. “I miss them, Sir.”

  “I’m sorry about that.” For once, there might actually have been a flicker of guilt. I had torn through her life to satiate my appetite, and though I was neither proud nor remorseful of the fact, I understood the implications well enough. Life in an organization like Zander’s—like mine—was one long war, and women like Hilary were caught in the crossfire. “Really.”

  “But...” Her voice broke, and she gulped back the emotion rising inside.

  “But there’s nothing more I can offer on the subject,” I concluded. “For the time being, at least. Maybe once we’re married and the waves have settled a little, you can reach out to some of those people.”

  I watched as the light in her eyes dimmed, then shone brighter again when I offered a vague reason for hope.

  “Some of those people, Hilary.” I wanted to make this point crystal clear. “The ones I approve.”

  Blinking away her tears, her cuffed wrists rose to wipe the remnants away. “You mean, no more Saul.” She tensed, deducing the obvious from my assertion. “No more friends from The Syndicate.”

  Stroking the back of her neck with my thumb, I pulled her closer.

  “I hope it goes without saying, I don't want my wife associating with the son-of-a-bitch who murdered my uncle.”

  “Sean.” She pressed her lips together, another gesture designed to stem the rising tide. “Please, Sir.”

  “What?” I wanted to chuckle at her demonstrative display. Normally, emotional women drove me crazy. I couldn’t abide them, but Hilary’s performances were exciting. I adored the way I moved her to these feelings, that I had affected her enough to produce tears. Her sobs pointed to feelings stimulated by me. “What’s all this about? You’re not telling me you were in love with him, are you?” I couldn’t resist my sneer, undecided if I was more irate if she was in love with him or disappointed if not, and I couldn’t use it against the bastard.

  “No.” She was struggling to contain her sobs, and unthinkingly, I reached into my top pocket, pulled the handkerchief from its place, and thrust it into her hands. “It’s not that. It’s just...” Gulping, her brow furrowed. “Everything I used to know is gone, Sir. It’s a lot to take in.”

  “Okay.” I guided her hands to her eyes, encouraging her to compose herself. Her emotion was starting to give me a headache. “So, we make a whole new life for you, gorgeous.”

  Christ, I was pleased I stirred such a response from the blonde, but this was getting stupid. She would make herself ill if she didn’t stop.

  “I have the means and contacts to make whatever you want a reality.” My hand rose and trailed through her honeyed hair. “I vow to give you whatever makes you happy once you’re my wife.”

  “So long as I do everything you ask of me.” She blinked through her tears, her gaze searching for my approval.

  “Precisely.” I was glad she was starting to understand. “It’ll be okay.”

  Turning, my focus landed back on the uninspiring London streets. We were nearly at Crane’s offices, and my bride-to-be was a disheveled mess, her lashes wet and eyes reddened with the recent emotion.

  “Will it, Sir?”

  Her question jarred deep inside, and glancing back, I caught sight of her wistful countenance.

  “Yes.” I met her eyes, ensuring she took note of my reply. “Be a good girl, make me proud, and I swear I’ll make it worth your while, Hilary.”

  Chapter Nine

  Hilary

  I’LL MAKE IT WORTH your while, Hilary. His voice rang in my head as he guided me inside the swanky office, the words pinballing until all I could hear was his self-righteous tone. I kept my gaze low, staring dumbly at the shoes he’d insisted I wear, rather than meet the smiling faces of the staff, but I was aware of their friendly approach, the refreshments they offered, and his replies on our behalf. I had been one of those professionals once. Not so long ago, I’d been Saul’s personal assistant, as well as his lover. I’d fronted his corporate division with style and finesse, and now, I was reduced to this, a sniveling, handcuffed woman in a borrowed dress and no underwear. I shuddered at the shocking revelation.

  “Still cold?”

  I glanced in his direction, shaking my head. “No, Sir.”

  “What then?”

  He sounded impatient, as if all my woes should have evaporated after one flimsy discussion in the car. True, it was the first time he’d actually spoken to me as an adult, but still—I wasn’t aligned with his plans just because he’d finally let me speak.

  “I have a headache.”

  “Oh.” His brows knitted, evidence he hadn’t anticipated my reply. “I’ve ordered a drink for you. That should help.”

  “Thank you, Sir.” My voice was low, humiliation intensifying as staff at the legal office flitted around us. It was bad enough I was cuffed like a common criminal and looked in a terrible state, but I wouldn’t allow them to hear me speak to him like this as well. It was all too mortifying.

  “This way, Mr. Hyland.”

  My eyes darted at the sound of a woman’s voice, her disdainful expression clear as she took in the look of me. Pulling in a breath, I tensed, wishing the ground would open up and swallow me whole.

  “Thank you, Polly.”

  Tugging my arm, Sean compelled me onward, following her to a nearby office. Suited professionals glanced up as we passed, as though he’d paid them to be here, witnessing my denigration. Jesus, this was excruciating, dozens of eyes boring into me, scrutinizing how I looked as I tiptoed past. Even though it was only a few feet to the office, it seemed as if the journey went on for an age.

  “If you could wait here, I’ll let you know when Mr. Crane is ready for you.” The gregarious Polly drank in Sean, hips wiggling, inviting his advance.

  “Perfect, thank you.”

  To his credit, he didn’t r
espond to her outrageous flirting, but then, what did I care if he took her bait? I didn’t want to marry the disgusting man, so I was hardly demanding monogamy. Standing in the middle of the luxurious waiting room, I watched as she flitted away, envying her position. I’d been that girl once, free to come and go as I’d wanted, yet I’d never really appreciated the liberty. It was true what they said—you never knew what you had until it was gone.

  “Sit down.”

  I turned at the order, acknowledging he was already seated while I was still staring forlornly at the door Polly had disappeared through. With a sigh, I complied, clutching the glass of water he thrust into my bound hands.

  “Drink.”

  This was what my life had been reduced to—a thing he could dress and order around with one-or two-word commands. My head pounded harder at the dismal thought. Slowly, I lifted the glass to my mouth and drained its contents. Whatever happened, the last thing I needed was a bloody headache on top of everything else.

  “Do I have to wear the cuffs, Sir?” It was a risky strategy, pressing Sean for anything, but I figured I might as well ask the question. Perhaps he would take pity on me, my upset tweaking whatever remained of his conscience.

  “Yes.” His voice was stern, and I flinched at the sound. How did I inspire such a severe reaction when pretty Polly received his charming side? “And you’ll be gagged for the meeting.” Reaching into his inside pocket, he produced the godawful ball gag he loved to goad me with.

  “Wh-What?” I’d heard what he said, but my brain couldn’t process the words. He expected me not only to be cuffed through the process of signing away whatever rights remained in my possession but to be gagged as well—was he fucking joking? “Why?”

  “Have you forgotten all your training?” Sean sighed theatrically, piercing me with his stare. “Have you forgotten what I expect?”

  I tensed at his expression, the disappointment in his voice stinging more than it should. It shouldn’t matter what he thought of me, but there was little doubt it did. His displeasure resonated through me as if it was my own. My brows furrowed at the realization. What had happened to me? Had I been so well conditioned that everything hung upon his approval?