Billionaire Romance Boxed Set (9 Book Bundle) (79 page)

“I ought to tie you up and
just leave you here,” he whispered.

I swear my heart stopped for a
moment.

“But that wouldn’t be very
much fun for me, would it?” he finished, and I breathed again.

He looped the rope around my
wrists first, lightly; testing me. I relaxed into it, and he drew the ends
tighter. Going strictly by feel, it was hard to tell exactly what he was doing,
but at the end of it, my arms were bound together tightly. I could lift them a
little, but they were so well attached at the wrist that I could do little
else.

The rope felt stiff, like it was
brand new. Had he bought it just for me, or had his last relationship exploded
spectacularly before he had a chance to tie her up? Somehow, I didn’t picture
any romantic entanglement of his could possibly end well.

This hadn’t been something I had
fantasized about - not really. But I could see the appeal. There was a
momentary panic when I first realized how immobilized I really was, how
vulnerable, but I soon came to peace with it. And that feeling of calm overtook
me completely, surrounding me like a warm blanket. Freed from the obligation of
movement, all I could do was wait for him to touch me. Which, really, was all I
wanted to do.

I stood there patiently, focusing
on my breathing just like he’d taught me to do.

“Kneel on the bed,” was
the next thing he said to me.

I clambered up on the mattress -
awkwardly, without the use of my arms for balance - and waited there for him. I
felt him kneel behind me, resting his hand on my shoulder and pushing, gently.
I lost my balance completely and pitched face-first into the pillows. I managed
to arrange myself so I could breathe, but I couldn’t really see him and I wasn’t
sure I could get myself upright again without his help.

His hand rested on my ass. I had
done such a good job focusing on my breathing until now that it was only just
occurring to me what a vulnerable position I was in. On my knees, with my face
in the pillows - he could see everything. I was pretty sure I’d never been this
exposed to anyone before. I could feel the anxiety beginning to creep in. I
exhaled, slowly.

Daniel was running his finger up
the inside of my thigh. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, almost to
himself, and I had a hysterical urge to laugh. What a strange thing to say, in
a moment like this. It was almost like he meant it.

A moment later I heard a wrapper
tear, and then I felt him pressing against me, sliding in easily until he was buried
to the hilt. I groaned softly against the pillow. He felt perfect inside me -
he always had. With every movement, I felt him deep inside - in the very
obvious, literal sense, but also in a different way, that made my heart swell
in my chest. Oh, no. This was dangerous. But not in the way I’d expected it to
be.

I never would have guessed that a
simple length of rope could wreak such havoc on my psyche. As much as I’d
enjoyed our previous encounters, this was something completely different. It
felt so much more intimate, in a way I hadn’t expected. Every little sensation,
from the bruising grip of his fingers on my hips to the soft brush of the
pillowcase against my cheek, was making my skin tingle all over. My shoulders
were starting to hurt, but it was a dull, satisfying ache. It felt good.

He hit a spot deep inside me that
made me shudder, and I felt warm tendrils of pleasure creeping through my whole
body. Its peak was somehow both gradual and sudden - like watching a water
balloon explode in slow motion. I made soft, muffled noises as my body pulsed
and shivered. In the midst of it I felt him swell inside of me, his hips
finally stilling their incessant movements.

He pulled away from me then,
coming back moments later to coax me onto my side and quickly undo the ropes. I
felt completely blissed-out and exhausted, overwhelmed, like I might start
laughing and crying and not be able to stop for hours. He slung his arm around
me and I curled up against him, the warmth of his skin and the sound of his heartbeat
somehow reaching me through the haze of feelings and sensations to still my
mind.

I breathed.

Chapter Fourteen

The next morning, I came down to
the kitchen with a smile on my face. Daniel returned my “good
morning” somewhat distractedly - I wasn’t sure what I expected him to say,
but it certainly wasn’t the next thing that came out of his mouth.

“Last night,” he said.
“That can’t…we can’t let that happen again.”

“What do you mean?” I
knew exactly what he meant, but I didn’t want to believe it.

“We can’t blur the
boundaries,” he said. “We’re in a business arrangement. It’s not
very…it’s a bad idea to let things get so muddled.”

“I thought you agreed that
it didn’t matter.”

His eyes looked sad, but
determined. I knew I wasn’t going to really talk him out of this, but I
wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I didn’t try.

“Maddy, I’m sorry. I know
it’s been fun. It’s not personal. You’re very lovely. I have a good time when
we’re…together. But it can’t keep happening. We have to control
ourselves.”

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to fight him, to bite
and kick, throw things at him - I wanted to do every irrational thing that came
to my mind, but instead I just stood there, very still, staring at him.
Nodding.

He watched me for a moment,
waiting for the other shoe to drop. But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“Okay,” I said, in the
most neutral voice I could manage.

I turned and disappeared into my
studio, where I proceeded to scribble so hard into a new pad of paper that I
tore through five sheets before I stopped.

-

After that, things were very
quiet. We rarely spoke, dodging each other in the main rooms and sleeping three
feet apart. Thank God for that massive bed. I was beginning to think that
things would just stay like this forever - well, not forever. For the remainder
of the year, at any rate.

I learned to dread the weekends.
Things weren’t so bad when I was alone, but I couldn’t even focus on my art
when I knew he was in the apartment. Thankfully, he started to spend more and
more time away from home, even when he wasn’t working. I never asked where he
was. Sometimes, he wasn’t even home by the time I went to bed.

One Monday morning, I came
downstairs to find that he was still in the kitchen. Shit. It was a holiday.
I’d completely forgotten. I tried to look away and walk past him to the fridge,
but I could feel his eyes on me and I knew he was about to say something.

He said, very deliberately and
coldly: “Would it be too much of a burden for you to wash the dishes that
you use?”

I slammed the fridge closed.
“Are you referring to the single bowl I left in the sink last
night?”

“And the glasses the night
before, and the plates before that…” He set down his coffee mug very
deliberately. “It’s always something. I don’t think it’s unreasonable of
me to expect-“

“They had to soak!” I
glared at him.

“They wouldn’t have
to,” he said, “if you’d just wash them as soon as you use them.”

“Oh my God. I can’t believe
we’re having this conversation.”

He sighed. “I’m just trying
to make it a little easier for us to live together.”

“No, you’re trying to make
it easier for you to live with me.”

“You’re more than welcome to
let me know if there’s anything I can do to make your life easier,” he
said, in the flattest tone possible.

“Oh, yeah?” I stepped
closer to him. “I’m so glad you raised that subject. How about treating me
like a human being? And not trying to act like nothing ever happened between
us?”

He looked at me balefully.
“Do you really want to have this conversation again?”

“Yes,” I said. “I
really would. Because I’d like to know what the hell’s wrong with you.”

“What the hell is wrong with
you?” he demanded. He stood up, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “Do
you not understand what’s happening here? Do you not see how hard this
is?” For a moment, he looked crazed, his eyes darting from side to side as
he searched for the right words. “Being near you, all the time…seeing you
all the time…sleeping next to you…God damn it, Maddy. Are you really that
self-absorbed? Are you really that selfish?”

I recoiled. His words stung; I
wanted to insist that I didn’t know what he was talking about, but of course I
did.

“I’m so sorry,” I said,
at last, very quietly. I could hear my voice shaking. “I didn’t realize
that I was twisting your arm.” I felt furious, but to my utter humiliation,
it was expressing itself in the form of hot tears leaking out of the corners of
my eyes and sliding down my face.

“That’s not what I
said.” Daniel looked utterly defeated, slumping back down on one of the
bar stools. “You know that’s not what I said.”

“No, I’m sorry, you just
said I was selfish. And self-absorbed.” My voice was thick from crying,
and I hated the sound of it. “That’s a whole lot better.”

“I’m sorry,” he said,
not sounding particularly apologetic. “But you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, sure. Fine.” I
was done with this whole conversation - I wasn’t going to stand there and stare
at his stupid unreadable expression while I blubbered like a stupid baby. It
was humiliating. I turned to go upstairs, and to my mortification, he followed
me.

“Can you just leave me
alone?” I didn’t sound quite as authoritative as I’d hoped, between
sniffles.

“Not until you agree to stop
toying with me,” he said, flatly.

Wait a minute - I was toying with
him? Okay, that was rich.

“Sure,” I said,
dripping sarcasm. “I’ll make sure to get right on that.” I opened the
top drawer of the bureau, rifling through it for something - anything - just to
look busy so I didn’t have to make eye contact with him.

“I mean it, Maddy,” he
said. “We can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep doing this.”

I whirled on him, with a handful
of jewelry clutched in my fist. I had no idea what I was even in my jewelry box
in the first place. “Okay, fine! Fuck!” I shouted. “I’ll leave
you the hell alone! As God is my witness, I’ll never shimmy my ass in front of
you again!”

He winced, a little. Good.
“I’m sorry,” he said, again. This time he sounded like he might mean
it, a little. “If I led you on.”

Oh, good, the classic
“if” apology. Hardly an apology at all. I could feel my lip curling
up into an actual snarl; I couldn’t remember ever feeling this angry in my
life.

“Oh, you mean the incredibly
thoughtful honeymoon?” My tone was venomous. I hardly recognized my own
voice. “All those little presents? The car, the clothes, all that shit?
Everything you’d give to a woman you actually loved? Well, you can keep them,
Danny. I don’t give a shit!”

I hurled whatever was in my hand
in his general direction. He dodged, and something winged his ear; when they
hit the opposite wall I realized it was one of the very first things he’d
bought for me - the necklace and earrings to go with my blue dress, the ones
I’d loved so much, now sitting in a heap on the carpet.

The buzzer went off downstairs.

“Christ,” Daniel
muttered, walking over to the stairs, rubbing his ear. I followed,
halfheartedly. The sudden shift had taken away all of my momentum, and I
barely felt like fighting anymore. I stayed off to the side, however, not
particularly wanting to be seen in my current state.

Daniel opened the door.

“Mr. Thorne?”

The voice sounded vaguely
familiar - and for some reason, it made my heart drop into my stomach.

There was a silence.

“Yes,” he said,
testily.

“It’s Jordan Camry,”
said the voice. “From the INS. May I come in?”

I wanted to turn and run, but I
felt like my feet were glued to the floor. So I just stood there, staring
dumbly, as the same man who’d quizzed me about our relationship strode into the
hallway, like he had some right to.

He glanced at me, nodding
politely. “Mrs. Thorne,” he said, not reacting - not visibly, anyway
- to my tear-streaked face.

“Is this about the
interview?” Daniel said, finally finding his voice.

Mr. Camry looked at him.
“No,” he said, at last. “But concerns have been raised about the
validity of your marriage. In such cases, an unscheduled home visit is
customary. Of course, you have the right of refusal. But if you do refuse,
other measures will be taken.”

“No,” said Daniel.
“We - that’s fine. You can…do whatever you need to do.”

“Can one of you show me
around the different rooms of the house?” he asked.

Daniel nodded, coming forward.
They went to the guest rooms first, including my studio - thank God I was
sleeping in Daniel’s bed - while my husband prattled on mechanically about each
stop. Mr. Camry nodded, taking notes. They disappeared upstairs for a while,
and then came back down.

“Thank you,” Mr. Camry
said, shaking Daniel’s hand. “I appreciate your cooperation. I’ll be sure
to make a note of it in the report.”

He walked out the door, and I
exhaled. I realized he must have only been here for a few minutes, but it had
felt like hours.

“What in the fuck,” I
said, as Daniel turned towards me, his eyes furious. But not at me, this time.

“Someone must have said
something.” He clenched and unclenched his fists. “Someone must have
contacted them. They don’t do this for just anyone.”

We wandered over to the living
room, single-mindedly, both sitting down on the sofa with our minds racing.

“Lisa,” I blurted out.
I’d hardly spared my actual boss a thought since she’d gone on maternity leave
- out of sight, out of mind definitely applied when I had so many other things
to worry about - but she’d been the one to recommend me as a green card bride
in the first place. “You said she’s one of the only people who
knows.”

He shook his head before I’d even
finished speaking. “She would never,” he said, firmly. That was
clearly the end of that discussion. Oh, well. If he didn’t want to consider the
possibility, I certainly wasn’t going to change his mind.

My mind kept on racing, thinking
of every person in the office who might have reason to be suspicious. As far as
motive, I wasn’t sure. Did the INS offer some kind of incentive? Or would they
have turned us in for purely personal reasons?

Wait a minute. His secretary,
with the dagger eyes.

“Alice,” I said.

He turned to look at me,
frowning. “Alice is a professional,” he said. “Besides, she
doesn’t know.”

“She might suspect,” I
said. “She might have overheard something - right?”

“Even if she did. Why would
she go to all the trouble of reporting us?”

“Have you seen the way she
looks at me?” I looked down at my lap. “She hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you,”
Daniel insisted. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not being
ridiculous!” I insisted, jumping to my feet almost without realizing it,
and pacing around the room. “She looks like she wants to kill me.”

“She’d never do that,”
he said. “You have to trust my judgment, Maddy.”

“Why? Who says you’re
infallible?”

“No one. But I choose my
intimates very carefully. No one close to me would have betrayed my confidence.
I’m sure about that.”

I turned to glare at him.
“So you’re saying it has to be someone I know.”

“I didn’t say that.” He
raised his hands, palms outward. “Did I say that?”

“You don’t have to.” I
stood in front of him, arms crossed. “Just so you know, I’ve never said a
word to anybody. I’m the loneliest person I know, because I can’t be honest
with anyone.”

“Do you think I like lying
to my sister?” Daniel snapped. “Get down off your cross. You didn’t
have any friends before we got married, either. You can’t pin that one on
me.”

I fumed silently for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” he said,
at last. “Maddy, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. But we both have
to calm down. This is getting us nowhere.”

“Fine,” I muttered,
sitting back down. “Alice seems like a no-brainer, though, I’m
sorry.”

“Trust me,” he said,
“she’s been working for me long enough. I know she’s abrasive, but I also
know what she’s not capable of. And a large-scale betrayal like this is beyond
her, even if she found out about us.”

“All right. Fine.” I
breathed out, slowly. But I didn’t feel any calmer. “Who else might have
suspected? If we’re eliminating all the people who actually know…”

“It could be anyone,
really,” he said. “Anyone from the office might have looked at us and
decided we seemed suspicious…who the hell knows, really. We both have a guilty
conscience. I have no idea how something might have appeared to someone on the
outside of the situation. God, what a nightmare.” He stopped, resting his
head in his hands and raking his fingers through his hair. I knew how he felt.
I was crawling out of my skin.

There was absolutely nothing I
could say or do to comfort him, or myself. We both spent the rest of the
afternoon absently Googling various things related to our predicament and
wandering around the apartment, picking things up and putting them down again
in random places. I sat in front of a blank sheet of paper for a while,
charcoal in hand, but nothing came to me.

Late in the afternoon, the buzzer
went off again. I don’t know why, but my heart leapt into my throat. Daniel
hurried to answer it. Someone was delivering a package of some kind. I walked
over, slowly, fists clenched.

Somehow, I knew, even before he
looked up at me and I saw the hunted look in his eyes.

“What is it?” I reached
out, and although he didn’t extend it to me, he didn’t try to pull it away.

It had come in a certified mail
envelope. It was a single sheet of paper, typewritten.

I took it.

I’m sorry. I did what I did in
anger, and I shouldn’t have done it, but it can’t be undone now.