Mastered (The Enforcers #1) (10 page)

Her mouth gaped open and her gaze turned incredulous as she stared back at him as if to determine whether he was serious. He returned her gaze unflinchingly, telling her without words that he was serious as a heart attack.

“Are you crazy?” she shouted. “You can't just tell me I'm moving in with you like it's a foregone conclusion.”

“It is,” he said calmly.

“The hell it is! You're . . . you're out of your mind!” she sputtered, throwing her hands up like she wanted to yank her hair out with frustration. Then she shook her head adamantly. “You can't just keep me prisoner!”

He smiled and responded in a lazy drawl. “Can't I? But, Angel, I can assure you, as far as prisoners go? There will never exist a more pampered,
spoiled and indulged captive. And I can guarantee you won't be trying to escape after you've had a taste of all I can give you. And just a warning, Angel. I give a lot. Everything. But I take every bit as much as I give.”

“This is crazy,” she whispered. “What exactly do I tell my friends? My girls? My family? I can't just disappear off the face of the earth. They'll go crazy. And I can't leave my roommates hanging. They can't afford the apartment without my share of the rent. I don't make much, but neither do they and it's a stretch to afford a two-bedroom even between four people.”

“Your girls will be taken care of. Their rent will be paid so your absence won't cause them any hardship.”

Her lips drew into a mutinous line. “No. I won't let you do that. You can't buy me. Or my friends. You aren't paying me for sex. God, that would make me a whore! A prostitute. How could I look at myself in the mirror every morning knowing I'm some man's plaything. A
paid
plaything.”

He was getting pissed, and he made no effort to hide that from her. “I'm not paying for sex. I don't
ever
have to pay for sex. What I give to you, whatever I choose to give to you, are gifts. Gifts I expect you to accept and think of creative ways of expressing your gratitude. You're mine for as long as our arrangement lasts, and that puts your girls in a bind. And I'm responsible for that bind because I'm a selfish bastard who takes what he wants and won't accept no for an answer. So I'll cover their rent because me being selfish puts them in a bind, and I won't be responsible for three women losing their home because of my demands.”

“Oh,” she said softly. Then she shook her head. “This is insane. This sort of thing doesn't
happen
.”

“In my world it does,” he said, amusement in his voice.

“There is only one world,” she snapped. “And we all live in the same world.”

“And that is where I intend to prove you wrong, Angel. My world, my rules. I answer to no one, and no one fucks with me or what's mine.”

“And is that what I am? Yours?”

“For the time being? Yes.”

She looked instantly uneasy, her eyes worried and apprehensive.

“And what happens to me when you figure out I'm not all that and you don't want me anymore?” she asked quietly.

“You will always be taken care of, Angel. I'm not a complete bastard. If the day comes that we no longer are compatible, then you will be taken care of for the rest of your life. You needn't have any concerns that I'll cast you off and leave you to fend for yourself. That will never happen. You have my word on it.”

Drake reached up to take one of her hands and gently pulled it down until it was completely encircled in his.

“You're a beautiful woman who deserves far more than what you're getting out of life, and I'm going to make you see that, no matter how long it takes. You're a woman any man would be on his knees to have. And you're as attracted to me as I'm attracted to you. I didn't imagine you coming all over my mouth last night.”

Her face went beet red and she hastily averted her gaze, but he reached with his free hand to cup her chin, gently forcing her to face him once more.

“You were so fucking beautiful and so wild, and I want to be the man who gently brings you to heel. I want to be the man who takes care of you, the man you ultimately answer to, the man who controls you.”

“Controls?” she asked incredulously. “Do you even know how obscene that sounds? No one controls me!”

“I do—I will. But you'll blossom under my care. Have no doubt there. There will not be a more spoiled, adored woman on this earth, because what is mine I take care of in all ways, and your happiness, your protection, your life comes before all else.”

She looked at him in utter bewilderment. “Why would you do this for a woman like me? You could have any woman you wanted.”

She broke off, blushing furiously, her eyes dropping in shame and God only knew what else. Fury rose inside him, and he was forced to loosen his grip on her hand or risk hurting her.

“Explain what you mean by a woman like you. And be careful how you word it, Angel, and how you say it, or I'm not going to be very happy with you.”

She swept her hand down the length of her as if that explained it all. Then she sent him a helpless look that suggested she had no idea how to explain what in her mind was a very obvious fact.

“You have no reason to be ashamed or embarrassed,” he said through clenched teeth. “And you will be neither with me, because that will not please me. Who you are, what you are, is what I
want
. Not your fucked-up idea of who and what I want. I know when I see something whether I want it or not, and I wanted you the minute you walked into my club. Your not believing me or thinking otherwise is bullshit. But you'll figure that out in your own time.”

“There's no way I can ever pay you back,” she said desperately. “I'll never be your equal. I'll never be able to pay back the kind of money you're talking about.”

“That's where you're wrong,” he said in a soft voice that made her shiver.

In that moment, she looked very much like prey being stalked, and he was the predator closing in on his prey. Hunted. He could deny none of those things when that was well what he was doing.

“Nothing is ever free,” he continued, taking advantage of her momentary silence as she grappled with the things he had said and was saying. “The price is you. All of you. I'll own you. Every inch of you. I'm a man who is always in control of everything in my world. My world, my rules. And you have to play by my rules. I especially demand control when it comes to the women in my bed. Do you understand what I'm telling you?”

“N-no,” she stammered out, clearly not understanding.

He swore softly. “Such a fucking innocent.”

For a moment he simply trailed a finger down the line of her cheek and then brushed the pad of his thumb over the full curve of her lips. He could feel the sudden exhalation of her breaths as they sped up and the trembling increased. But it wasn't fear. She was aroused.

“Dominance, Angel. And your submission. Your complete and utter submission. In all things, but especially in my bed. You don't deny me anything. What I want, I take. What I choose to give, I give. You don't have a choice, and you don't get to tell me no. Ever.”

“You're talking about rape!” she said in a horrified voice. “About taking my choices completely away from me!”

Drake scowled, allowing her to see how angry her response made him.

“Now you're just pissing me off. You'll be willing. I guarantee you'll love every single thing I choose to do to you. You'll beg me for more. You won't even think about saying no. When you step into my world, I own you. I possess you. There isn't a single inch of your beautiful skin that will go untouched, unworshipped. No part of you I won't fuck. You went up in flames on my desk, all laid out like a gift, and never once did you say no. You lit up the minute I touched you. You were wild, uninhibited, and you held nothing back.”

Her eyes became dull, shame and embarrassment crowding into their depths.

“Goddamn it, Angel. You will not be ashamed of anything that occurred between you and me. Ever. You will not take something that fucking beautiful and twist it into something shameful and ugly.

“That motherfucker who did a number on you and made you feel like you were nothing was a fucking idiot. He had something that men would kill for and he pissed it away. He's an inept bastard who wouldn't know what to do with a woman. He's the inferior fuckwad and he knows it, so he lashes out to make himself more than the fucking coward he
is. He gets off on belittling others so he can feel better about himself. He knows he's a piece of shit and the only way he can deal with that knowledge is to knock down everyone around him, especially women. It's a high to him because it's the only time he feels like anything other than the worthless piece of shit he and the rest of the world knows he is.”

Evangeline's look turned to one of absolute wonder, her eyes filling with something that made Drake uncomfortable. She looked at him like he was some fucking hero, and that made him wince. He wasn't a hero. He wasn't a good man. He was a selfish bastard willing to go to any lengths to make this woman his.

“I don't know what to say,” she whispered.

Drake inhaled, realizing he was about to do something he
never
did.

Ask.

“Give me a chance, Angel,” he murmured. “Give me the chance to prove to you all I've said. To do all I've said I will do. Will you at least agree to give me a chance?”

She studied him for a long moment, clear indecision warring with hope, fear and . . . curiosity. Finally, she closed her eyes, but when they reopened, resolve shone like a beacon.

“Yes,” she replied softly. “I think I must be crazy, but yes. I'll give you a chance.”

“Us,” he corrected. “You're giving
us
a chance.”

But there was still an air of hesitancy about her, as if she regretted her impulsive response, and Drake knew he had to get her out of here and to his apartment fast.

Before she came to her senses and ran like hell.

Drake was no fool, nor did he feel an ounce of remorse for hustling Evangeline out of Impulse and into his waiting car before she had time to second-guess her hesitant acquiescence. He had also issued a sharp command to his driver to get them to his apartment building with no delay, an order Brady immediately complied with, and to Drake's immense satisfaction, the car pulled to the front of the skyscraper housing his penthouse apartment in record time.

Evangeline had sat beside him, motionless and quiet, seemingly frozen in place. Her eyes were wide, almost as if she were struggling to take it all in. Or perhaps she was just coming to grips with the enormity of her decision. Not that he'd given her much in the way of an option. His request was hardly worded as one.

But again, he hadn't become successful in business—or in personal matters—by hesitating when an opportunity presented itself. When—not if—Evangeline gathered her shaken senses, he wanted it to be on his turf. Where she couldn't run from him. No escape. He couldn't very well pull out every weapon of persuasion in his arsenal if he was persuading thin air. Which was where she would have vanished if he hadn't taken swift advantage of her shock and momentary loss of her wits.

If that made him a bastard . . . Well, he'd certainly been called—and for that matter, was—a hell of a lot worse. In the end, what mattered was that he got what he wanted.

Evangeline. Angel. His angel.

In his apartment. His bed. Under his firm hand and protection. For as long as he wished her to be there.

For the first time, he hadn't already put a finite time on a liaison. Hell, he wasn't even considering this anything so casual. The days of one-night stands, or even the occasional weekend when he kept the same woman and sated his desires until Monday morning when his workweek began, and the rare weekend he took off, were over.

All he knew was that she was here. With him. About to enter his home. A place he never took a woman—any woman—and he had no intention of letting her go any time soon.

He frowned, uncertain of what to make of that particular revelation. For the time being, he shoved it firmly away and compartmentalized it in his mind to reflect on later. Much later. After Evangeline was taken care of and the matter of their relationship settled.

He opened the door, reaching for Evangeline's hand, even knowing she couldn't open the opposing door into the street. She didn't resist when he stepped onto the sidewalk, carefully pulling her with him. He anchored his arm around her waist as she too stepped from the car, and he ushered her quickly to the entrance and into the lobby where the elevator doors had already been opened by the doorman who worked the night shift.

The doorman courteously extended his arm toward the inside of the elevator and murmured a respectful, “Good night, Mr. Donovan.” But Drake didn't miss the quick lift of one eyebrow as the doorman's gaze swept over Evangeline huddled against Drake.

Drake sent him an icy look that had the man retreating as Drake inserted his key card for his floor. He was well aware of the doorman's surprise, given that Drake never brought women to his home, but the
man should have had more discipline than to allow his thoughts to be broadcast through his body language.

As the elevator began its ascent, Evangeline wobbled slightly against him, and he silently cursed those damn shoes he'd been forced to put back on her swollen feet. Then he simply bent and wrapped his fingers around one delicate ankle, ignoring her gasp of surprise as he lifted first one foot to remove the offending heel and then the other. She was forced to hold on to his arm to maintain her balance.

When she reached to take them, he simply shoved them underneath his other arm before once more curling his free arm around her waist, solidly anchoring her back to him.

“You won't be working in these again,” he said bluntly. “You won't be working at all. The only time you'll be wearing heels is if you're out with me or I want to fuck you in them.”

She stiffened and her eyes sparked when she tilted her head up so their gazes met. She opened her mouth but the elevator stopped, the doors opening immediately, and Drake took advantage by pulling her forward and into his foyer.

They had walked only a few steps when Evangeline abruptly halted. He glanced down, bracing for the inevitable protest, the regaining of her senses, or perhaps she'd finally figured out exactly what she wanted to say but had been too overwhelmed to do so before. But she merely stared wide-eyed, not at him. She wasn't paying him the slightest bit of attention.

Her gaze swept the sprawling, spacious open-concept apartment, a dazed expression on her face. And then she finally swung it up to meet his, puzzlement and awe swirling in her eyes.

“This is your apartment?” she barely managed to whisper. “I didn't think they made apartments this large in New York.”

He wanted to kick himself in the head. His wanting to get her to his apartment as quickly as possible was because he didn't want her too
overwhelmed. If anything, seeing and being in his apartment had tipped her the rest of the way off the ledge.

Not knowing what else to do or say at just that moment, he started to pull her into the shelter of his arms to offer her comfort, but just as his fingertips brushed over her arms to take hold, his intercom buzzed.

Evangeline jumped and turned as though she expected someone to be behind her. Drake, however, was pissed.

He strode the few steps to the wall where the speaker was mounted and slammed his thumb over the button.

“What?” he barked.

There was a slight hesitation, and then Thane's voice bled into the room.

“Uh, Drake? You might want to come down here. We have a situation.”

“What situation?” Drake asked in an icy tone. “I distinctly left orders with all my men that under no circumstances was I to be disturbed.”

Thane sighed loudly. “This woman showed up at the club right after you left and demanded to see you. She then said that if I didn't produce you immediately, she was calling the cops. I brought her here so whatever burr she has up her ass can be removed and we don't incur unnecessary trouble.”

There was another slight pause as Drake mentally ran through every curse word in his dictionary. And then some.

“And Drake, it might be a good idea to bring Evangeline with you.”

Before Drake could respond to that absurdity, a screech blasted through the intercom that made him wince.

“Damn right Evangeline better be with him so I can see for myself she's okay, or swear to God, I'll call the cops and report Drake Donovan for kidnapping and I'll tear this whole damn building apart to find her if I have to.”

Evangeline let out a sound of dismay, and Drake turned to see her
stricken, mortified expression. She closed her eyes but bristled with humiliation, which made Drake want to put his fist through the wall. This was not how things were supposed to have gone, and this wasn't going to do anything to settle Evangeline's fears.

When Evangeline opened her eyes, Drake lifted one eyebrow in question. She promptly sagged like a deflating balloon. She covered her face with both hands as if wishing to be anywhere but where she was. Drake could already feel Evangeline slipping from his grasp, and something akin to panic skated up his spine. He never panicked. Nor did he fear. What would be, would be. And yet he found himself holding his breath in dread.

“It's Steph,” she said quietly as she let her hands slide slowly from her eyes. “She's one of my roommates. And Drake, she's serious. You don't know her. She will absolutely call the police and God only knows who else. I have to go down there.”

“Not without me,” Drake said, his tone carrying a bite he hadn't intended.

He shoved the button on the intercom.

“Sit on her, Thane. I'm coming down with Evangeline and by God,
Steph
better be there when we arrive.”

He turned to Evangeline and extended his hand, waiting for her to slide her much smaller hand over his. He experienced a fierce sense of satisfaction when her flesh met his, but as his grip tightened in preparation to take her into the elevator, he could feel her trembling.

Doing his best not to frown and scare her to death, he instead pulled her close to him and slid his knuckle under her chin, gently nudging it upward.

“You aren't alone, Angel,” he murmured. “I'll be with you the entire time. You just have to inform your friend of your choice.”

Left unsaid was that he too would have to be informed of her choice because he was no longer certain she would choose him. Her friend might very well coax Evangeline away. His jaw tightened just thinking
about the possibility. Under no circumstances would he let her go. She was worth fighting for.

With that in mind, he sent her a questioning look. She correctly interpreted the silent question as to whether she was ready, and she nodded. Drake pulled her to his side, tucking her beneath his shoulder as they entered the elevator.

The ride down was silent, and Evangeline's gaze remained fixed on the floor the entire time.

Damn it! He just needed time. A few days. So he could show Evangeline the world she was entering. Instead, as soon as they'd walked inside his home, her friend had arrived, effectively dragging Evangeline crashing back to earth.

As soon as they exited the elevator, Drake saw a very determined-looking redhead stalk forward, Thane behind her looking pissed. Well, that made two of them.

“Evangeline, thank God,” Steph said as she barreled toward them.

To Drake's surprise, Evangeline nestled closer to his body as if seeking comfort or support.

“To what do we owe this interruption at this hour?” Drake demanded.

Steph's eyes narrowed. “I had to make sure Evangeline was okay. When she didn't come home, we thought something horrible had happened.”

“Well, as you can see, she's just fine,” he drawled. “Now if you'll excuse us, it's been a long day.”

Steph's frown deepened and her eyes shot daggers at him.

“Evangeline is perfectly capable of speaking for herself,” she said acidly. “I'd like to know what she wants. Preferably from her.”

Drake felt Evangeline stiffen, her features drawn in mortification. Shame dulled her eyes, no hint of the vibrancy that made staring at her so entrancing. He swore viciously under his breath and started to put an end to this shit right now, but Evangeline drew in a deep breath and stepped from the protective refuge of his body.

His pulse ratcheted up and he had to fight to maintain an air of indifference. He'd never allow anyone to see his pain if she left with her friend.

“As you can see, I'm fine, Steph,” Evangeline said in a soft voice. “I'm sorry to have worried you, but I did call you and left a voice mail saying I wouldn't be home tonight. I texted you, Nikki and Lana, as well. And then Drake sent Maddox over to personally reassure you that I was okay.”

“Yeah, a hired goon who looks like he just got out of Rikers,” Steph said, anger still seething in her voice.

Evangeline's earlier look of shame and defeat evaporated and her spine went rigid. She stared back at Steph, her gaze unflinching as her face flushed. But not in embarrassment. No, his angel was pissed.

He fought to hide his reaction—his surprise—and forced himself to remain a bystander and allow Evangeline to fight her own battle unless it became apparent she was backing down. She further surprised him by walking up to Steph and getting right in her face so there was no possibility of misunderstanding. She pointed her finger directly into Steph's chest, eliciting a look of complete shock on her friend's face as if Evangeline had never stood up to her—or any of her so-called friends.

“You will
not
talk about Maddox that way,” Evangeline snapped. “He has been nothing but kind and patient with me. He intervened at Impulse when Eddie would have likely put me in the hospital. He was kind, respectful and gentle. He took me home, made certain the apartment was safe and told me he would be there the next night at seven because Drake wanted to see me. But I had to work and so Maddox waited for me at the pub until I got off and drove me to Impulse to meet Drake, where we agreed on a personal matter that will
remain
personal. You have no right to judge Maddox or Drake or Thane, for that matter, who went out of his way to let you know I was okay, when you know nothing about them. And furthermore, you are clearly questioning my judgment. My wants and my needs, which I remind you, are my concern. Not yours. I don't tell you how to run your life, Steph, and I expect that same respect in return.”

Her hand swept toward Thane, who was wearing a look of shock mixed with approval. Pride even. Thane lifted his gaze to Drake as if to say,
You picked a good one
. Drake merely nodded his agreement.

“And Steph. You showed up at Impulse after being told I was fine and what my plans were for the night and threatened Thane unless he brought you to wherever Drake and I were. Has he hurt you? Has he threatened you in any way? Because the way I see it, he has treated you with far more respect than you've afforded him. I expected more from you, Steph. I expected your faith and trust in me to make my own decisions. I don't need your, Lana's or Nikki's approval or permission to do anything. I don't interfere in your personal lives, and yet you interfere with mine at every turn. And just to remind you, I never wanted to go to Impulse. It was the last place I wanted to go, but the three of you railroaded me into going, and the result was a night of humiliation I'll never be able to forget.”