Crime & Punishment 2: Master Delacroix (27 page)

“Are you sure you’re up for this, Daniel?” Nathan asked.

Daniel shrugged. “What choice do I have?”

“At the moment, not much,” Josh replied. “Sorry.”

Daniel sighed and dropped onto the bench facing him and Josh. “It’s not like we didn’t see it coming.” Daniel turned a concerned look to Nathan. “Do you think he was telling the truth?”

Nathan nodded. “He was.”

Nathan could feel it. All the aggravation, the fear, the uncertainty, even the hopelessness of getting his company mixed up in all this and leaving his sons to clean up the mess. “I promised him we would fix this.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow. “We?”

“I’m not going to leave you to do this by yourself.”

Daniel sat forward, braced his arms on his knees, and clasped his hands. “Why did you let Connelly walk away?”

Nathan frowned. “What does that have—”

“Stay here, Nathan. Make things work with Connelly. The two of you belong together. Let me handle the company.”

“You came here to try to talk me into coming back. Remember?” Nathan replied.

“I changed my mind. You distanced yourself from Connelly because you don’t want to put her life in danger. If you help me, you will. Let me and Josh deal with all this, and you…get up off your sorry ass and tell her how you feel.”

“She’s afraid of my life, Daniel, and I don’t blame her. She’s been through enough.”

“Would you give it a rest?” Josh growled. “I swear to God you’re the most stubborn asshole I think I’ve ever met.”

Nathan rolled his eyes.

“Trish’s death wasn’t your fault, and neither was this. He was one sick fuck out of thousands. The odds of anything like this happening again, especially since you’re no longer an active agent, are next to none.”

“Josh—”

“Shut up, Nathan,” Josh snapped. “Do you love her?”

Nathan sighed. Did he? Maybe. Probably. Being with her felt more right than anything had in a long time. And he knew she cared for him. He could feel it when they were last together. But would she be willing to try?

“Well?” Josh snapped.

Nathan glared at his friend. “Just because you’re injured doesn’t mean I won’t smack the shit out of you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Either smack me or answer me.”

Nathan let out a frustrated breath. “Maybe.” At the disbelieving looks on his brother and Josh’s face, Nathan shook his head. “Okay, fine. Yes.”

“Then go talk to her,” Josh argued. “I’ve put my career first my whole life. I’ve run off girlfriends and pretty much accepted this is it for me. You have a chance to have something. Don’t let that pass.”

Nathan sat back and crossed his arms. “And how do you suggest I get her to agree, oh swami-donna?”

Josh grinned. “You do what you do best, Master Delacroix.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Connelly finished signing what must’ve been her hundredth book. Her wrist hurt; her fingers hurt; her back hurt. Hell, even her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. She’d forgotten just how tiring these things could be, but also how rewarding. She loved seeing her readers. They made her feel so special and energized, and that was something she sorely needed right now.

She hadn’t been sleeping much. She missed Nathan. Twice now, she’d picked up the phone and started to call him, then changed her mind. To stop temptation, she’d deleted his number from her phone, then cried for over an hour. Poor Peter had begun to think she’d lost her mind, but after that first initial cry fest on his shoulder, he hadn’t said much, just sent her annoying looks that clearly said you’re an idiot.

Maybe she was. Maybe she was being smart. Or at least that’s what she tried to tell herself. Unfortunately, that sentiment made for cold, lonely nights alone in a big bed.

None of it mattered anyway, because Nathan hadn’t even tried to stop her. And that was probably what hurt the worst. He’d just let her go. Connelly stared at the page in front of her and sighed.

Sign your name, dip wad. Don’t cry. Don’t think of him. Just move on.

She signed her pen name, then handed the book back to the reader with a smile and, “Thank you.”

The reader beamed and moved away. Connelly stared at the now mostly empty ballroom where the signing had been set up. Two hundred authors and most of them gone except for her and two other
New York Times
best sellers who had remained to make sure everyone who had waited in line got a signed copy.

“That’s the last one,” Peter said as he placed a much needed cup of coffee in front of her.

“Oh, Lord, thank you,” she said with a grin as she lifted the cup and took a sip of the strong blend. After sighing, she smiled up at him. “What would I do without you?”

“Flounder helplessly, of course,” he replied.

“Of course,” she repeated, making Peter chuckle.

“We have about three hours before the big costume party later. Why don’t you go to the suite, take a long hot bath, and I’ll meet you at about six thirty?”

Connelly stood and pushed her chair under the table. “Where are you off to?”

“I have dinner plans.”

She raised an eyebrow in surprise. “With who?”

Peter gave a dismissive shrug, but Connelly didn’t miss the spark of excitement in his eyes. “Just someone I met earlier today.”

“Is he here at the conference? Visiting from out of town? What?” she pried.

“God, you’re so nosy,” Peter teased. “He’s a limo driver. He brought someone here from the airport. It’s not going to go anywhere. He lives here, we live in Atlanta, but he was cute so I thought, what the hell?”

Connelly smiled at her friend as she reached out to readjust his shirt collar. “Good for you. You know, if it goes well, you can always cancel on the costume party. I would understand.”

“I know you would, but I’m not about to leave you to go in there alone. If he wants me, he can wait till the party is over.”

Connelly giggled. “I doubt that I would be alone for long, Peter. I will be fine. If you want to stay with him, stay. I promise I won’t hold it against you.”

“Well, we’ll see how things go. If it doesn’t go well, I can always blame things on you.”

“And you would too, wouldn’t you?” she said, giving him a fake glare.

“What can I say?” Peter grabbed the almost empty box of freebies she always had when she did a signing, and started to walk away. “I have the boss from hell.”

“You think so now,” she called out. “Just wait till later.”

Peter’s laugh made her smile. The first real smile she’d had in days. Unfortunately, it quickly faded the second she thought of Nathan. Would she ever stop?

With a shake of her head, she walked to the elevators that would take her to her room. She needed some quiet time.

Once in her two-room suite, she walked to the window and stared out over downtown Chicago. Even the bright late-afternoon sunshine couldn’t shake the gloom and sadness from her heart. She missed Nathan so much it hurt. Had she made a mistake? Acted too soon? Let her fear rule her?

Sighing longingly, she began to unbutton her shirt and stroll to the bathroom. As she walked through the bedroom, she tossed her shirt on the foot of the bed, then froze. Attached to the headboard were cuffs, and lying across the middle of the bed was a flogger.

“What the hell?” she mumbled.

Had Peter done this as some sort of joke?

“I know a certain submissive who could use a good flogging for not talking with her Dom about her fears.”

Every part of her tensed with excitement at the sound of Nathan’s deep voice coming from behind her.

“You didn’t stop me,” she whispered, unsure she wanted to turn around.

She was afraid she was imagining all of this. That he wouldn’t truly be there.

“I was hoping you would come to your senses on your own. Looks as though I was wrong. That will be another thrashing for my trouble and travel expenses.”

Connelly’s lips twitched.

“Does the sub have anything to say?” he asked.

His voice was so deep, dark, and dangerous sounding it sent a shiver along her spine. But not from fear. Not at all.

She turned her head slightly, but not enough to see him over her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Master.”

“Not good enough,” he snapped.

This time she did turn, and her breath caught at the sight of him standing in the bedroom doorway. His hair had been cut short due to the stitches that ran along the side of his head, but that didn’t take away from his looks. If anything, the shorter hair enhanced them, but she still preferred it longer.

“It will grow back,” he whispered.

She smiled slightly but didn’t say anything. Of course he would know what she was thinking. Black slacks hugged his hips. His white dress shirt was open down the front, exposing his muscular chest. God, he looked good enough to eat.

“What would Master have me do,” Connelly asked, “so that he believes my apology is sincere?”

“Strip and present your ass to me.”

Her mouth fell open. “Wha—”

His eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t kidding about the flogging, sub. You ran, and now you’ll accept the punishment.”

“But—”

“Now, sub,” he said calmly but menacingly enough her hands went immediately to the button of her slacks.

She pushed her slacks over her hips, letting them fall to the floor before stepping out of them. “How did you get in here?”

He didn’t answer, just watched.

She frowned. Peter of course. “Was it your limo driver who offered to take Peter out to dinner?”

She slipped out of her shoes and kicked them aside. She now stood before him in a matching thong and bra. She licked her lips nervously as his gaze traveled down her body, then back up again, heating her flesh and making her feel very sexy.

“Are you going to answer me?” she asked.

“Why? You already know the answer, but keep asking, because every question you ask without permission is another slash to your backside.”

She immediately closed her lips.

“That’s better. Now finish.”

She reached behind her for the bra clasp. Damn sadist.

“You might want to be careful of those thoughts as well, pet,” he said, but the amusement in his voice was unmistakable.

That’s so not fair.

“There’re lots of things in this life that aren’t fair.” He walked toward her and pulled a knife from his back pocket. Connelly’s breath caught as she stared at the long, silver blade. “I grow tired of waiting.”

He slid the blade under the elastic of her bra, and she squeaked, jerking slightly away from him. He caught her upper arm and frowned. “Careful, pet. I wouldn’t want to cut you.”

She scowled as he cut the bra right up the middle between her breasts.

“Or maybe I do.”

Her heart hammered out of control as he used the blade to push the bra aside, exposing her breasts. He brushed the dull side of the blade over her nipple. The cold steal against that hard nub sent a shiver over her body. What the hell was he doing?

Using the blade of the knife, he pushed the bra straps down her arms. It fell silently to the floor, leaving Connelly dazed, slightly fearful, and incredibly aroused.

He trailed the knife down her stomach, letting the blade scratch her skin but not deep enough to draw blood. “Now that thong.”

Pushing the blade between the soft cotton and her skin, he turned it so the knife sliced through the material easily. The blade had to be incredibly sharp to cut through the material like it was a hot knife cutting through butter. He repeated the process on the other side, and her panties joined her bra on the floor.

He put the flat of the blade under her chin and lifted it so she met his gaze. He studied her for a brief second, his eyes dark and sultry, the lust shining in them sending her senses into a heightened state. She feared him, what he would do, but at the same time trusted him. The warring feelings and sensations added to her already humming desire.

“Turn around and climb on the bed,” he ordered.

She swallowed. “What are you going to do?”

She wasn’t afraid of him…not really. But the sight of that menacing-looking knife in his hands gave her pause and turned her insides to molten jelly.

Nathan lowered the knife but replaced it with his hand. He applied gentle but firm pressure against her neck, forcing her to her toes, and her heart nearly pounded out of her chest.

“You never ask a Dom what he’s going to do. You say, ‘yes, Master,’ and obediently do whatever it is he tells you to.”

She again swallowed. “Yes, Master.”

He loosened his hold on her neck. She turned and climbed onto the bed on her knees. She actually trembled as she glanced at him over her shoulder.

“Move to the headboard,” he ordered.

“Yes, Master,” she whispered as she shuffled forward on her knees.

The mattress was thick and soft, giving her the impression of moving through quicksand. She reached the headboard and rested her hands against the cold wood.

“Spread your arms.”

She licked her trembling lips for what must’ve been the tenth time. “Yes, Master.”

She spread her arms wide, each hand touching the posts on either side of the headboard. Nathan wrapped one of the cuffs around her wrist and clicked it closed. At the sound of the lock moving into place, she actually jumped.

Nathan moved the blunt end of the blade along the back of her arm. “What’s your safe word, pet?” he asked.

“Red,” she whispered.

“Louder,” he replied. “Say it loud enough that I hear you.”

“Red,” she said louder and more firmly.

“Good girl,” Nathan murmured as he moved to secure her other wrist to the opposite bedpost.

Braced on her knees, front facing the wall, arms outstretched, Connelly awaited her fate.

NATHAN COULDN’T HELP the grin that pulled at his lips as he climbed onto the bed behind her. Damn, she looked incredibly sexy all spread like that. Her skin flushed pink, her limbs trembling just a bit, and a small spark of fear in her eyes at the unknown. He enjoyed that look, but what he enjoyed more was her trust in him.

Using the dull edge of the knife, he pushed her hair away from the side of her neck. He could practically see her heart pounding. He placed his lips over her pulse point and sucked. A shiver ran through her, and her beating heart rapidly against his lips.