Declaration to Submit (3 page)

She poured every ounce of that cold professionalism she was known to have into her tone. It should have worked. At her job as a secretary to a corporate powerhouse, she had been able to freeze interns and CEOs alike. This man didn’t seem fazed at all.

“You’re under contract, Miss Armstrong.” And she’d thought
she
could freeze people with a tone. This man outclassed her in more ways than one.

She tipped her chin. “Contracts signed under the influence are not binding Mr.—Mr.— What is your name?”

The way his gaze traveled over her from head to toe made her tremble, but she wasn’t going to back down. Something stirred in her stomach, and she fought the desire to drop to her knees. What the hell was wrong with her? Even as she had the thought, she knew exactly what was wrong with her. Here was a man who swept away her objections, stood firm in the face of her iceberg act, and plugged into her deepest buried needs. Defiantly, she stared at him, ignoring the way her pulse accelerated.

His smile was slow and wicked. “You were sober when you signed a contract with ConFed, weren’t you?”

She blinked. “I signed an employee agreement.” Confused, she tried to back away from the intimidating presence of this naked person. He, however, gripped her arm and held her still.

“Did you, in fact, read your employee agreement, Miss Armstrong?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Let me see if I can paint a picture for you,” she said and yanked against his hold. “ConFed bought Sunsoon and presented me with a choice. Sign or walk. I signed. But there is no employee agreement that I will honor that involves this kind of treatment.” She hoped he believed that lie, because even as she spoke, the fraternization clause was uppermost in her mind. She wasn’t as confident as she sounded.

“That’s not what you said last night,” the infuriating man said with a grin.

“Last night I was drunk.” She couldn’t even grip her high heel to knock him over the head.

The smile disappeared. “I’m not talking about when you were drunk.”

What? Nell sought her hazy memories for before the excessive drinking. Suddenly, the conversation at the bar came back to her.

“Come on, Nell. You know it’s a declaration you’d love to make.”

“You know I would.”

Her gaze jerked to his. “I said that in private to my friends.”

“You backed it up with action, Miss Armstrong.” He moved her farther into the sitting room. “Sit down. We can…negotiate this.”

This? Nell was ready to scream. She sat, crossed her arms and her legs, and stared at a table lamp. Her head was pounding. She couldn’t make sense of anything. Her stomach rolled, and she wondered if she was going to throw up.

That this was one of the upper management at ConFed was clear. A hazy memory of his presence at a table in the bar with Atticus Paulus niggled at her brain. Oh hell, he could be some crazy person.

Did he think she was just going to sit here? She stood up, and he placed a hand on her arm. “Atticus said you’d worked for Ernest Dover for six years.”

“Yes.” She didn’t resist when he gently urged her to sit back down.

He picked up a pair of boxer briefs that were neatly hung over the end of the couch with his other clothes and pulled them on. They hugged his body in a way that made Nell’s mouth water. She’d wanted him dressed, his naked form too tempting, but maybe she was wrong. She tried to focus on his questions.

His tone was casual. “You have a degree in business?”

“From Pepperdine.” She remained perched on the edge of her seat.

The man dressed quickly in casual slacks and a green polo shirt. His brown hair was mussed, but that only added to his appeal. He had craggy features, a term she’d never understood until she saw his rather blunt, angled bone structure. With economic movements, he even put on socks and loafers.

He focused on a pleat of his pants. “I’ve met Professor Alyet.”

Damn. He certainly knew how to get the heart of the matter. Had the professor told this man about her past? When he raised his head to look at her, she immediately went back to staring at the lamp. It didn’t matter how good-looking he was, she wasn’t going to…do whatever she’d agreed to do. Okay. She vaguely remembered discussing her employee agreement with Gina and Tori. She even remembered giggling about it. And the fact that the man knew her favorite professor didn’t mean a damn thing. Hadn’t she dug into the past of ConFed’s two top executives, men who shied away from the public eye? Of course they would have returned the favor. It didn’t mean anything. She pressed her lips together and prepared to rise to her feet.

“Professor Alyet had a high regard for your business acumen,” he said.

Nell caught the subtle implication. Professor Alyet had been her advisor and mentor during an ugly chapter in her life, one that solidified Nell’s belief in her abilities and lack of confidence in her sexual life. Her exploration of the more deviant aspects of her personality had been stunted, and this man had discovered that fact.

“I overheard your discussion.” He leaned back and studied her. “You indicated that you would be tempted by a Dominant/submissive relationship as stipulated in the employee agreement but were unaware of how to declare yourself.” He raised his eyebrows. “Let’s just say you sought clarification.”

She groaned. “Tell me I didn’t.”

“You did,” the man confirmed. “Normally, if an employee declares such an intention, it isn’t public. You, unfortunately, did it at a tableful of ConFed officers.”

Oh. Shit
. This was the part she didn’t remember. “What exactly did I say?” She couldn’t look at him, her voice muffled as she hid behind her shaking hands.

“Exactly?” He removed her hands and held up his phone. A video. Of her. Drunk.

She forced herself to watch and bit her lip when the image showed her on her knees asking “Does that mean I belong to you now?”

The scene was also arousing as well as completely embarrassing.

As the video ended, Nell couldn’t control the lump in her throat or the fear in her veins. “So last night—” She tried to swallow and almost choked.

There was a suspicious twinkle in his eyes when he answered her unspoken question. “Last night, I packed you into my car, praying you didn’t do any damage to my interior, and brought you to my hotel room. Your friends weren’t really in any condition to drive you.”

“No. We’d arranged for a car.” Her mouth was dry.

He lifted one eyebrow. “A wise decision since you came back to my hotel room, did a memorable strip show, and passed out.”

She closed her eyes, wanting the floor to open up and swallow her. “But…I mean…we didn’t…did we?”

When he didn’t immediately answer, she opened her eyes, afraid of what she would see. His gaze held hers for what seemed like a very long time. “No, Anelda. I wanted you sober when you negotiated your declaration with me.”

They were back to where this insane conversation began. She’d laughed at something she’d only dreamed about in her fantasies.

But this was not how she’d hoped to be…dominated. She’d wanted a relationship, a partnership, that had kink on the side. This? This was…what? She didn’t even know. Part of her was titillated, fascinated by the idea of being acquired like a hostile company. But there was a romantic side that balked, that wanted so much more than play.

She cleared her throat. “What did you mean by three days?” Oh, she knew. Though she’d said very little to her friends, she knew what was in that clause.

“The rules are clear, and they are outlined in the fraternization clause of your employee agreement.” He gripped her chin and held her gaze. “Though I get the impression you didn’t fully understand the section regarding this aspect of your employment.”

How wrong he was, but she wasn’t going to reveal that. “I never intended to declare anything,” she stated and licked her lips. Right? That was true, wasn’t it?

He sighed. “The contract states that if the employee at the time of declaration is impaired or feels threatened, that the senior officer has three days to determine if the declaration is valid.”

She wouldn’t last three minutes. Her mouth went dry with fear. How could she get out of this? Did she really want to get out of this? “So you have three days to play with me? I have no choice?”

“You always have a choice, Nell,” he said softly.

Right. Sure. If she didn’t want to be employed. “And if I walk out that door?”

He took a deep breath. “You will be subject to disciplinary action. However, the only consequence you will have to deal with is your inebriation last night. Though we are not strict about employee behavior as a rule, you
are
here for a ConFed conference.” He shrugged. “You are well aware that the legality of that section of the agreement regarding fraternization is a slippery slope. But the section on employee behavior during company conferences is not.”

“And if I stay?”

His stare was hard. “You will still have to pay the consequences, but they will be between you and your new boss.”

She blinked. “Maybe I
don’t
understand.”

He pointed to himself. “Me. You asked last night if you belong to me.” He smiled. “You do. Whether it will be as a secretary or as something more remains to be seen.”

For a moment, it all seemed reasonable, completely normal. She shook her head, trying to clear it, finding only confusion. “None of this makes any sense at all.”

Then he did something unexpected. He tugged her into his lap and held her. It didn’t seem sexual. It wasn’t some ploy to convince her. There was tenderness and care in his hands, and she appreciated it more than she thought she would.

“Stay with me, Nell. See if this is what you want. If it isn’t, I promise you can sign the nondisclosure form and go on with your life.”

She should resist. She should run like hell. But she was no longer sure that she hadn’t wanted this from the beginning. If she was honest with herself, she could admit that the stipulation in the employee agreement had awakened that long-buried need she wouldn’t indulge.

Successful, thirty, and still single, she hadn’t met a man who had given her the kind of dominance she needed. Her job required a cold, rational demeanor that distanced her from almost everyone. Gina and Tori had known her forever, and they knew the real woman behind the files, but she wanted to surrender, to trust someone with everything. To let go.

Had she created this situation? Damn it. She scrambled out of his lap and smoothed down her dress. Was she out of her ever-loving mind?

Straightening her shoulders, she sat down across from this strange man and asked the question she knew implied that she was going to stay. “Will you at least tell me your name?”

“You don’t know it?” he asked and raised his eyebrows.

Well, she could guess. He was one of two men, and she was pretty sure she knew which one. She had to be crazy because she was considering this. Here was a chance to play with a real Dominant, a man who seemed to take the whole D/s thing very seriously. She could forget who she was, what she was and just…be. For three whole days.

Not with a stranger. The fantasy she had about this was not with a total stranger, but with someone she could trust. Did she need to know his name? Of course she did. Especially if he was who she thought he could be.

“Of course I don’t,” she snapped. “Last night I was drunk. Today, I am sober, and I would like to know who I will be—” She stopped. What the hell was she going to be doing? She shook her head and rose to her bare feet. This was insane. She was leaving.

“Nell, sit down.” His voice was sharp and commanding.

Before she had a thought, she sat.
Fuck. Double fuck.

He stood and placed his hands at either side of her head on the back of the sofa. “My name is Mark, but you won’t be calling me that. You will be calling me Sir.”

Holy shit
. His presence overwhelmed her, made her stupid. All that snappy repartee that had always served her well deserted her. The ice that had earned her the name “Dragon Bitch” at work was nowhere to be seen. He simply smashed through all her defenses, and she had no idea how he did it.

She swallowed. “Yes, Sir.”

The pupils in his eyes expanded, and she sensed tension ripple through him. Had she said something wrong?

AS IF HE’D never had a woman call him Sir, Mark had to fight the urge to take little Nell right then and there and fuck the rules.

But he was Mark Conners, the Con in ConFed. He made the damn rules, so he’d better follow them. What had begun as a lighthearted challenge had morphed so quickly it made his usually hard head spin.

Lines around her eyes denoted her worry. His silence and stillness had made her nervous. Good. “Now that you have my name, we will negotiate terms for our contract.”

She blinked. Nell was a stunning woman. She wasn’t exactly petite, though he doubted she was over five foot tall. There was nothing fragile or delicate about her, though she moved with grace and confidence. Her staff was terrified of her as if she was twice her size and a lot meaner.

Her hazel eyes were filled with confusion and frustration. Control meant a lot to Anelda Armstrong. She ruled her roost with an iron fist, which was why every single senior officer had been stunned when she sauntered to their table drunk off her ass.

“Negotiate,” she said slowly.

Go ahead, Nell. Start believing you can bullshit me.

“You were required to submit to a blood test and medical physical for your employment, so I am aware you are clean.” He reached down and lifted his briefcase. “I don’t expect you to take my word for my health, however.” He handed her a manila envelope. “This contains all my blood work. I’ve had no partners in the last six months, so nothing has changed.”

He’d thrown her off balance again. Right in front of his eyes, he watched a transformation. She’d been bullied, confused, hazy until that moment. She donned her professional mode-like armor.

With competent fingers, she flicked through the pages of his medical report. He was amused that she actually read it. She nodded briskly and met his gaze. Ah, there was the icy calm she was famous for. “You said we were to negotiate. Are there stipulations in writing so that I can—”