de Lune, Clair - Initiation [Prometheus in Chains 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) (11 page)

BOOK: de Lune, Clair - Initiation [Prometheus in Chains 1] (Siren Publishing Classic)
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* * * *

Angus put down the phone and smiled to himself. Jane was in for a real shock, a pleasant one he was sure. He walked out of her living room, wondering what was taking her so long. He kicked a box.
What was that?
He picked it up. He was sure it had not been there when he went into the room from the kitchen with his coffee. He opened the box. It was a lovely watch. He turned it over and read the inscription. “I Love You Angus.” His heart swelled, and then he began to wonder why it was on the floor. Jane must have dropped it, so she had come back, then oh, God, he remembered what he had been saying. His side of the conversation was all she’d have heard. What would she think? The worst, knowing her. Although she was more confident now, that was really on the surface and deep down she was still very fragile. He ran back into the living room and rang her mobile. She did not answer and, after several tries, he got voice mail, so she’d turned it off. Where could she be? She must be on foot. He had heard no car start up. Left or right? Right, he’d bet. She was right-handed and tended to choose the right when on autopilot. He ran down the road, and it began to pour. Where the hell was she? Then he saw her, doubled over and sobbing on a park bench. Why was she sitting out in the bloody rain soaked to the skin? What was she thinking? He ran over to her, collected her in his arms, and would not be denied even when she tried to push him away.

“Come home, little darling. I need you.”

At these words she slumped against him, he saw all the fight had gone out of her. With his arm around her, they retraced their steps. She was shaking and soaked to the skin as was he. He got them undressed and into a hot bath, he told her she needed to get warmed up and he saw that she had no heart to fight any more. Gradually she stopped shaking, and he got her out of the bath and wrapped them both in robes. He dried her hair and cuddled her close.

He made her a pot of her favourite tea and made her drink a mug with a tot of whisky in it, taking one for himself. It was hot, and soon he felt the warmth stealing though him. She looked a bit better, too. There was more colour in her cheeks, and she was no longer shivering.

“I have made such a mess of things,” he said. “This is not the way I wanted you to hear about it.”

“When does she arrive? Are you moving your things out now?”

“You have it all wrong,” he said sadly as she shook her head in disbelief. Two fat tears rolled unheeded down her cheeks. He took her face in his hands and kissed them away.

“Come and sit over here and let me explain.”

He could see that she did not want to know, was too weary to listen. He supposed from her expression that she dreaded what she thought she was about to hear. It seemed she had no fight left in her to resist his tugging at her arm. The doorbell went and he looked at his watch.

“Bloody hell, she’s early.” He reached for Jane as he felt her step away from him, shock on her face.

“I-”

“Stay there! Do. Not. Move!”

His voice, that tone, still had the power to compel her obedience. He hurried to the front door and opened it. Jane heard a voice she could never mistake.

“Emma,” she cried and flew to the front door. Emma flung herself into Jane’s arms.

“Grandma!” She wrapped herself around Jane just as she had always done from being a small girl.

“Let’s go and sit down and clear up a few things.” Angus shepherded the girls towards the living room sofa, where they sat down and held hands.

“Grandma, what have you been doing?”

“Let me explain.” Angus told how Jane had heard only one side of the conversation and had not known that Emma was on the other end of the phone or even that he knew Emma.

“Emma?” said Jane, looking confused.

“We have the hugest surprise for you, Grandma,” Emma said.


Hugest
is not a word, Emma.”

“Well, never mind. Can I tell it, Angus?”

“Yes, of course.”

“You know I have been trying to get a job designing, Grandma, with little success. Well, I sent off my details to Curvy Woman and got an interview. The boss asked me if I knew you, and I said yes, you are my Grandma, and he said, ‘You are
that
Emma,’ and when I said yes, he gave me the job, saying I had the very best references.”

“Who is this supremely intelligent man? Do I know him? How does he know me?”

“Intimately,” said Angus and smiled. Jane looked from one to the other, and the penny dropped.

“You own Curvy Woman?”

“I am afraid so,” he said, and then he and Emma burst out laughing.

“The look on her face is all we hoped it would be,” spluttered Emma. Then Jane understood that call.

“Oh,” she said.

“Just so,” said Angus. “Now it is time to go and get ready as we are going out to dinner. It is my birthday after all.”

“Oh, I don’t have your gift. Where is it?” cried Jane

“You dropped it in the hall, when I tripped over it I realized what you must have heard and so I came after you. I put it on the hall table.”

She went to get it and give it to him.

“I’ll go and get my case and get ready,” Emma said, in an effort to be tactful.

“I’ll show you to your room,” Angus said.

When he came back, Jane gave him the box, explaining why she had forgotten to get wrapping paper. He smiled and put the watch on his wrist. “I have something for you, but will give it to you tomorrow. Go and get yourself dressed now. I am so hungry, and Emma is coming, too. I have to go home and change. I want you to move in with me tomorrow. I am tired of having to go home and leave you here. You can pack a suitcase and, when we have more time, you can pack up the rest of your stuff and I will have it taken over there. Well?” he asked.

“Oh, yes, please, Master,” she said.

“Well, that is an extra celebration. I shall remember this particular birthday for a long time.”

Chapter
Fourteen

When she came back downstairs, he was in his kilt with formal frilled shirt and a short jacket with silver buttons and the Black Watch tie. She wore a classic, elegant dress in deep slate-gray that showed a lot of cleavage and made Angus smile hungrily. Emma had opted for jade silk trousers and a long tunic. The meal was a great success. Angus was happy and full of entertaining stories about his days in the regiment. He explained how he set up “Curvy Woman” and how happy he was to have Emma on his design team. He seemed to need to know the time often and consulted his watch. Jane was happy. During the evening it emerged that Emma had designed the coffee and aqua outfit that Angus had given Jane to wear the day she got her test results. Emma had designed it as a one-off sample of her work and made it in her grandma’s size, too.

“Emma, that bustier!”

“Well, Grandma, you always had great boobs. You should show them off more, and the brief was for Curvy Woman’s special page.”

“Your grandma has breasts. ‘Boobs’ is a word I abhor, and it is not appropriate for your grandma. Do not be mealy mouthed, Emma!” Angus said.

That Dom voice gave Jane a frisson of arousal. She looked down but stole a look at Emma. She saw her flush and looked down, too.

Heavens, was Emma submissive? Her feisty little Emma, who had fought her formidable father’s desire to protect her from every wind that blew and won. Surely not. It must just be that Master was her boss and she did not want to offend him. That was it. But she looked at Angus, and he was smiling in a self-satisfied way.—
What the fuck!
Then she noticed he did it again as he looked at his watch for the umpteenth time. So that was why he looked so smug. It was the inscription on that watch! She had no time to think about it as the restaurant delivered their desserts. Then it was time to leave. He delivered them home, made sure they were safely locked in, kissed Jane on the cheek, and left.

Jane told Emma she was moving in with Angus the next day and Emma could live in Jane’s house for the time being until she got her own place.

Master had insisted.

“Emma needs her own space. Besides, this early in our relationship we do not need a third, and she will not want to play gooseberry. If I want to strip you naked and fuck you over the kitchen table or play ‘Hunt the Sub’ with you or fuck you senseless in the shower, I do not want the first words out of your mouth to be ‘oh, but Emma might hear.’ I want them to be ‘Yes, Master’ as you do as I tell you!”

Jane had agreed, but the words “Hunt the Sub” had her brain whirling as he’d known it would. She knew he would enjoy keeping her on edge, because he realised that worrying about the game would keep her mind off any other worries she might still have. She saw him smile to himself. He must be thinking of the game he had invented. She had asked what it was, and he had told her hide-and-seek for grown-ups. That had not comforted her at all as she knew who would be the hunted. He had just smiled, and that was not comforting either. She wondered what precisely he had in mind and was on edge. No doubt that is what he wanted. She wondered what was putting that particular wolfish, smile on his face. It boded no good for her, she was sure, and Jane trembled. She was on edge and nervous. She knew how he liked that look on her face. She also knew he would not hurt her and any torment he devised would end in a screaming orgasm for her. In that case she could wait to find out and maybe play him at his own game.

Now she was so tired after all the emotions of the day that all she wanted was to go to bed and sleep for a week. They could work out the details later. Of course there was no chance of that. Master Angus arrived at 10:00 a.m. as he said he would and in full Dom mode. She had just got up and was grumpy. She had not packed, so he made her tea, saying she could have breakfast at his house. He helped her pack and took her bags and a case to the car. She left a note of telephone numbers for Emma, promising to phone later. She left her a set of keys, thoughtfully labeled.

When they got to his home, he took her into the kitchen to make breakfast as he had not eaten anything either. While she made their usual meal, he took her bags and case to their bedroom and put away her clothes. He looked at the labels on her lingerie and was not best pleased to see that all she had was bought in supermarkets. He had asked her why she only wore pink, black, or white and she had looked at him and stated,

“Well, when you get to a certain size, whoever makes the decisions decrees that you
will not
have the beautiful strong colours, the lovely patterns and fabrics available to the rest. I suppose if you have the money to spend, it is not a problem but for most of us on a budget that’s the way it is, take it or leave, like it or lump it.” She had looked sad and, oddly, defeated. He would soon change that. Emma was going to design a budget range for people in Jane’s circumstances. She had said at her interview that she always had her grandma in mind when designing for older women and, although he had asked for the example of her work she brought to her interview to be for his “special range” and although she would continue to design for that, he knew she’d be just the one to do the budget range. Jane would try them out, but from now on she’d be in his top of the range lingerie in all the colours of the rainbow and bold patterns. But no knickers. He confiscated her knickers. She was not going to wear them anymore. She’d be mad about that, and he smiled, hoping she’d lose her temper with him and he could have some fun reminding her to respect her Dom.

Chapter
Fifteen

After a leisurely breakfast, Angus took Jane upstairs and blindfolded her.

“I have your surprise here, come with me.” He led her along the corridor to the room opposite the guest room. It was no longer locked. He opened the door and took off her blindfold and watched as she looked. On two sides of the room there were shelves in light oak floor to ceiling. The very top two rows of shelves had doors, and the rest were open. On the shelves, arranged in colour groups, were piles of fabric, plain and patterned, mostly cotton but some shiny that looked like silk. There were boxes of embroidery threads and spools of thread for the sewing machine. Further boxes contained, on examination, silk ribbon and buttons again in a rainbow of colours, sizes, and shapes. There was a complete set of scissors, spring loaded for ease of use, rulers, and fabric pencils. A light oak book case had shelves of varying heights for craft books and, on top, an iPod dock. By the side of it a glider rocking chair with a lamp and a small table full of pads and pencils in a pot. She walked around the room as if in a dream, picking up this and that and looking at it all. On one end of the large table in front of the huge picture window was a covered sewing machine. She went over, took off the cover and when she saw the latest model of her favourite machine with embroidery patterns to be fed into it, it was too much. She sat on the chair by the table, her eyes shining and tears flowing down her face. “You did all this for me? It must have cost a small fortune! I do not deserve all this.” And she indicated the room with her arm flung out.

BOOK: de Lune, Clair - Initiation [Prometheus in Chains 1] (Siren Publishing Classic)
12.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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