False Pretenses (18 page)
Emma widened her eyes. “Is that an option?” She would have loved to keep her membership. As the debacle had proven, she could use more discipline.
"If you were married, this matter would have been referred to your husband and handled privately.” Jordan twisted sideways in his chair to look at her. “If you were a man, suspension or revocation of membership would have been the only disciplinary option available for a violation this serious.” He paused. “Because you're a single woman, Society bylaws provide other recourse."
Her heart thudded. That sounded ominous. Emma gripped her handbag tighter. “Recourse?"
"The disciplinary committee has the discretion to administer a physical reprimand,” the president said.
Good God, did that mean what it sounded like? She pressed her trembling knees together.
"The governing board, which serves as the disciplinary committee, may decree a formal paddling or caning as punishment. If that is the case, barring no further infractions, you'll retain your membership,” Jordan explained. “Should you refuse to comply, Rod and Cane, of course, will terminate your membership."
"The governing board will meet on Wednesday,” Otis said. “At that time, a decision will be made and implemented immediately. If you wish to remain a member of the Wives Auxiliary, appear at the meeting at five p.m. sharp. If you fail to show, we will assume you choose to surrender your membership. Bear in mind, your appearance will not guarantee retention. The matter will be debated by the full board."
Paddling?
Caning?
Emma struggled to appear calm when inside she shook like the ground during an eight pointer on the Richter scale. She didn't doubt she could benefit from discipline in general and now knew she had a hard-wired affinity for erotic spanking, but her gut warned that an official Rod and Cane punishment would be a far cry from the games she'd played with Dan.
"Do I need to give you an answer now?” Pressure coalesced behind her eyes, signaling tears were imminent.
"I understand you need to consider your options. If you choose to accept my proposal, you need only to appear,” Otis answered.
Chapter Seventeen
Emma had downplayed her subterfuge as a “mistake.” Fury roared through Dan like wildfire whipped by the Santa Ana winds. She hadn't cared about anything or anybody; only her story mattered. How had he factored into her plans? Was she fishing for a follow-up article? Would his comments appear and be attributed to “name changed to protect his privacy” in another column? Bitterly Dan conceded that Emma had been honest about her drive and ambition. He should have listened.
Dan squeezed the steering wheel of his SUV until his knuckles whitened, unable to erase the memory of her ascending the steps, her teary eyes and quivering mouth forming a perfect picture of penitence. Fortunately common sense had overridden his foolish desire to comfort her. Of course she acted upset—her perfidy had been discovered, her cover blown, her set-up destroyed. She'd gotten one good story out of the deal, but she would get no more.
Dan entered his driveway, shut off the engine, and stared at his house.
Christ.
He'd driven home, negotiated the winding canyon without any recollection of the journey.
"Fuck.” Dan exited the vehicle and stomped up the walk. Once inside, he flung himself on the sofa. The house was so quiet he could hear the ticking of the clock, the whirring of the refrigerator, the pinging of his thoughts. He zeroed in on the patio and recalled their first date, their conversation, and the pleasure he'd felt in her company. He closed his eyes in a vain attempt to block the memory of Emma squirming and whimpering as he reddened her ass later that same evening and the way her pussy had fit round his cock like a perfectly tailored sheath of wet silk. Her enjoyment of the experience had seemed so real.
He'd thought they'd shared a unique, intimate bond, like two lost halves of the same whole that somehow found their way back to each other, but the magic of their coupling had existed only in his desire.
"I love you,"
she'd said. Lies. All of it—her physical response and her words.
The free fall from fantasy to reality was long and brutal.
Why had Emma allowed him to spank her? Was it to lure him into confessing secrets for her column? Had he meant
anything
to her?
She couldn't have faked everything, could she? The redder her ass became, the wetter her pussy had gotten. She couldn't manufacture the cream slickening her thighs. He was almost as certain that the way she'd jerked under each stinging slap then lifted her hips to receive the next one had been a natural, involuntary reaction. Emma had enjoyed spanking. She had loved it much as he had. Hadn't she?
Was her career so important that she would jettison everything else that was good? Dan raked a hand through his hair. It didn't make sense, but it didn't matter anymore. He and Emma were finished.
Chapter Eighteen
She would. She wouldn't. She would. She wouldn't...
Since Sunday, Emma had been buffeted by indecision. If she allowed her Auxiliary membership to lapse, she would forfeit the camaraderie and connections she'd come to value. She'd lost Dan; she didn't want to lose that too. And now that she'd been introduced to spanking, she wanted to experience more of it, and who better to advise her than the Auxiliary wives? If any of them would even speak to her. Word would spread that Emma Dupree and Cassidy Myles were the same person, and even if it didn't, she would have to come clean. Atonement demanded completed honesty.
The big question hovered over her. Could she handle the discipline the Society would mete out? Davenport appeared to be a man of thoughtful and measured action, but her gut hinted her punishment would be severe.
She would, she wouldn't. Her vacillation continued as the days without Dan dragged at glacial speed, until, in the blink of an eye, it was Wednesday. Unable to concentrate, Emma had called in sick to work. She did feel ill, especially after her editor e-mailed her with an “atta girl” and told her that readers had lit up the newspaper switchboard, crashing the paper's Web site with a flood of comments. She'd hoped for that response, but now it filled her with regret. She'd phoned Dan several times, only to hang up before she finished dialing. She did the same with Melania, until she found the courage to leave a message.
She couldn't even decide what to wear to the hearing she wasn't sure she would attend.
With the meeting looming an hour away, Emma stared into her bedroom closet. She'd tried on several outfits and discarded them all. Why was it so difficult to pick a stupid dress? And why did it matter when she hadn't even decided if she would go? Shouldn't she decide that first?
Her doorbell pealed. Grateful for the interruption, Emma donned a robe over her underwear and ran to answer it.
Melania stood outside. “I got your message,” she said. “Can I come in?"
Remorse formed a lump in her throat, rendering her unable to speak. Emma stepped aside.
"How are you holding up?” Melania shut the door behind her and peered at her with concern.
The compassion in her friend's voice and gaze unraveled her. Emma's eyes filled with tears. “I'm so sorry. I tried to launch this big journalism career, and I didn't consider the people I used to get what I wanted."
"Like everybody else, I was shocked, and I felt a little betrayed—at first. But you didn't say anything untrue. Your story was good. Accurate."
Emma shook her head. “That doesn't give me the right."
Melania shrugged. “What's the saying the men use? No harm, no foul? It's about time the Society announced itself. We've been operating in secret for too long. Everybody claims they want domestic discipline to become socially acceptable, but since no one talks about it outside of Rod and Cane, how do they expect to gain acceptance?
"You caused some discomfort. But publicity will be good, I think.” Melania grinned. “In effect, you gave the Society a good, hard spanking. The men got a figurative taste of their own medicine. Not a bad thing."
Melania was more magnanimous than Emma deserved. “I'm sorry. Can you forgive me?” Emma looked at her.
Melania hugged her. “I already have."
Emma's heartache eased a measure, and gratitude rushed in. She didn't know how she had acquired such a good friend, but she vowed to earn what she'd been granted. “Thank you,” she said, and as she embraced Melania, she arrived at her decision.
Dan resisted the urge to drum his fingers on the conference table as he frowned at the clock. What was taking so long? What was the delay? Although it was a few minutes before five, a full quorum of the disciplinary board was in attendance, so what was the holdup? Being here made him think about Emma, and that hurt. He wanted to get the meeting over with.
He'd almost called her, but aborted the action because he had no idea how to express what he felt. He loved her, but didn't know if the woman he'd fallen in love with existed. Who was Emma Dupree? Was she the warm, receptive woman who trustingly bared her bottom, or the lying schemer intent only on furthering her career?
Her silence since the confrontation on the mansion steps fueled his doubts. If she'd been truly remorseful, wouldn't she have tried harder to make amends? He'd been angry and had brushed her off outside the Rod and Cane mansion, but she let him go. If she'd cared about him, wouldn't she have persisted?
If I loved her, wouldn't I have given her a chance to explain? Contacted her?
Dan stifled a snort of self-disgust at his roiling emotions and his compulsion to attend this meeting. He didn't have to be here. He couldn't vote. The board would terminate Emma's membership quickly and unanimously. End of story. End of relationship.
But the bad feeling wouldn't go away. A nagging voice insisted he attend the hearing. And the truth was that, despite everything Emma had done, he still cared what happened to her. Ironically the article had made him realize how much he did love her. If he didn't, he would not have felt so betrayed.
Dan glanced at the other board members. Most appeared unconcerned, although Otis and Jordan seemed to be waiting for something, while Paul McGinnis fidgeted with impatience.
"With all due respect, Mr. President, we have a quorum—” McGinnis spoke but broke off as a knock sounded outside the chamber.
All heads pivoted toward the sound. Jordan rose and opened the door.
Emma entered. Dan jolted straight up in his chair as if he'd been Tasered. What the hell? He dragged his gaze away from Emma to glance at the other board members. Like him, the other men appeared surprised.
Except for Otis and Jordan. Dan's gut tightened; he didn't like this. Not one bit. Like ants marching across his skin, uneasiness crept over him. He forcibly planted his feet on the floor to prevent himself from hustling Emma from the room. He clasped his hands on the table.
"Please have a seat, Miss Dupree,” Otis said, and Dan noted for the first time an extra chair at the table.
"Thank you.” Her husky voice quavered, and the urge to comfort her rose strong within him. God, this woman tied him in knots. Protecting her should have been the furthest thought from his mind. He risked another glance, and the anxiety he read on her face twisted his heart.
Emma had the full attention of the men as she slipped into the empty chair.
"The disciplinary hearing is now called to order.” Otis rapped his gavel. “I've asked Miss Dupree to join us to allow her to make a brief statement before we decide on appropriate discipline. Our decision will be final and effective immediately."
Emma seemed to gulp, but she said nothing.
"Miss Dupree is a member of the Rod and Cane Society's Wives Auxiliary. She is also the author of the
Sentinel
article. That is a clear and serious breach of the confidentiality Miss Dupree had agreed to when she joined.” Otis shifted his gaze from the board members to look at Emma directly. “What do you have to say?"
Emma cleared her throat. “I, uh, would like to say that—"
"Speak up! I can't hear you,” McGinnis cut in, his tone contemptuous.
Otis shot him a quelling glance. “Mr. McGinnis, when you address Miss Dupree, please do so with respect.” He looked at Emma. “Continue, and please, if you would, speak a little louder."
Emma nodded and wet her lips. “I would like to say I deeply regret what I did.” Her voice was tight but clear and loud. “I joined the Auxiliary purposely to write an expose about the organization. But once I got to know the women...and men"—her gaze flicked to Dan—"I changed my mind. Unfortunately the article was sent to my editor by mistake."
"Oh, please,” McGinnis spat out his disgust. “You expect us to fucking believe that?"
Otis rapped his gavel twice. “Mr. McGinnis, consider this your final warning. One more outburst, and you'll be fined."
McGinnis exhaled and glared at Emma as if she were to blame for his reprimand.
"How was the article sent in error?” Jared asked.
Dan leaned forward. He too wanted to learn the answer to that question.
"I thought I had deleted it. Someone, a former...uh...friend who was mad at me e-mailed it out of revenge. If I had to do it over again, I would not have written it at all."
Otis glanced at Jordan, then at the board members. “Mr. Bevy and I met with Miss Dupree a couple of days ago.” He turned to Emma. “Is it still your wish to retain your Auxiliary membership?"
Emma's chest swelled with her breath. “Yes, I do."
"You are fully aware of the disciplinary recourse that may be administered in lieu of termination? You agree to abide by the board's decision?"
Dan jerked in alarm. Rod and Cane bylaws allowed for two forms of disciplinary action for its rare single Auxiliary members—membership termination and—"Emma, no! I won't allow it!"
"Mr. Tanner!” Otis smacked his gavel twice and shot a censuring look at Dan before returning his attention to Emma. “Miss Dupree?"
