Knots (Club Imperial Book 4) (21 page)

“I realize that and I appreciate it, but I’m sure you understand how this just took a hard left into bizarro territory,” Paul said. “We’re talking one instant about getting laid, and the next your denying you’re a prostitute when I never accused you of that.” He raised an eyebrow. “What would make you defend yourself before I could accuse you?”

“Most people have assumptions about my second job.”

“Most people don’t even know you have a second job.”

“I like it that way.”

“What the hell do you do, Cece?”

“I work at Club Imperial as—”

“The
kink
club?” he gasped.

“The kink club,” Cece confirmed, taking a deep breath.

“Jeezus, Cece,” he said, leaning up and sitting straight. “What do you do there?”

“I’m Prima Domme,” she answered, spitting out the words before she had a chance to be afraid to say them.

“Holy
shit
.” Paul almost seemed to choke on the air. “You’re a dominatrix?”

“Yes.”

Practically jumping off the bench, he paced away from her and ran a hand through his hair. “Jesus shit, Frances. Crap on a stick. Are you serious?”

“Why would I ever kid about something like that?”

“No wonder you started with the working girl opening,” he said. “How the hell did you end up there?”

“As Prima Domme?”

“At a kink club.”

Cece raised an eyebrow. “I like kink. I like the lifestyle.”

He shook his head. “No, how did you get into it in the first place?”

Cece took a deep breath and smirked. “I’m not that interesting, Paul.”

“I don’t know about that,” Paul answered, walking back. “You just confessed you work at a kink club.”

“It’s not really that exciting,” she said.

“Try me.”

Cece picked at her nails. “I slept with my high school boyfriend when I was seventeen. And it was the most miserable experience ever. I think seventeen year old sex generally does suck, but I kept seeking out someone else who could figure me out. There was always something missing. Something that didn’t allow me to really be happy with sex, but I wanted to.

“One of the household help noticed I was acting out, constantly angry. He was one of those men who were actually concerned about me and Hannah, and after I came home one night in utter tears he asked me what was going on. I didn’t want to tell him, but I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Gordon took a chance that he knew what was going on.

“Right then and there, he dommed me for the first time. Took complete control of me and finally gave me my first… well. You know.”

“Orgasm?”

Cece nodded. “I’m terribly blunt when it comes to talking about this, Paul. I don’t know how much your delicate ears will stand.”

“Be blunt. Please. We have to figure this out, and I need to know what’s going on here.”

Cece nodded. “He dommed me. Do you know what that means?”

“Tied you up? Took over?”

“Yes, well… close enough. He took me to his quarters and showed me what I was missing from the horrible dalliances I was permitting myself. It was exactly what I had been missing. And we didn’t even have sex that first night. He took me under his wing and started to teach me how to be a bedroom submissive, and I loved it. Eventually, I agreed to go to a training house—”

“Training house?” Paul more fell on to the bench than sat down.

Cece nodded. “Gordon was a great Dom, but he was not a good teacher and there was more to the lifestyle than he could show me. So I went to a training house. And I learned to be the perfect bedroom submissive.”

“Just a bedroom submissive?”

“I don’t have inclination to be a full submissive, in that position all the time. I’m only a bedroom submissive and only when the mood strikes me, which is why I’ve become a Domme—dominatrix, if you like. The training house saw I was better suited to be in charge. Once I completed the training for both, I was offered a position at the club. I had a unique talent with rope, and Franz wanted me there. So I agreed, and through a series of happenings I’ve become the Prima Domme. And I have no interest in giving that up. Now or ever.”

“Nothing sordid about your past at all?”

Cece laughed. “You seem disappointed.”

“Kind of, yes,” he responded, laughing with her. “So, you’re telling me this because you don’t want to give up the domme thing.”

“I don’t want to give up the lifestyle, correct,” Cece said. “If we stay with our promise to not see other people during this marriage, I have to give it up. Because the sexual aspect is inherent, and I won’t make myself suffer with the shibari without the possibility of relief.”

“You need to get it on?”

Cece laughed. “Absolutely.”

He leaned back on his hands. “I guess that makes sense. I mean, the whole idea is sexual submission or domination, and without the climax, it’s all just an exercise in futility.”

“Not all of it is sexual, but the part I like is..” Cece nodded.

“So how would we work this?”

“Discretion is the better part of valor. I’m not saying we be out and out about the fact we’re seeing other people and not sleeping together, but if we can be discreet—and I’m guessing we’re both very good at that—I don’t see a reason why this would mock marriage any more than we already are with our sham-wedding.”

“Somehow, right now, I’m very glad that this is sham wedding,” Paul said.

“What?”

“I don’t think that I could keep up with you in the bedroom.”

Cece let out a genuine laugh. “Most people can’t.”

“People?”

“I’m not picky about who I tie up,” Cece smiled. “Only who I fuck.”

Paul’s eyes popped open and he let out an amused blast of air. “You don’t beat around the bush.”

“Or do I?”

Paul doubled over in laughter. “Shit, Cece!”

She shrugged. “So now you know. And now we have something else to work out before this marriage happens.”

Paul wiped a laughter-tear from his eye. “I don’t think it’s really problem. Like you said if we’re not flaunting our so-called infidelity, I think we’ll be fine. Tracey will be thrilled with that.” Paul started and jerked his head around to look at her.

Cece smiled and patted his arm. “Your secret is safe. No one is going to hear her name from me.”

“Thank you,” he said, and relief in his voice was palpable. “Are you calmed down enough to go back in and deal with The Mothers?”

“Is your back still hurting?” Cece tried to distract him; she didn’t want to deal with her mother.

“It’ll be bruised, but I’ll be fine,” he answered. He opened his mouth to say something else, but instead they were interrupted rudely by a cellphone ring tone. Paul yanked out the phone and looked at the face of it, and swore. “Work.” He looked at up her. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” she answered. “I can try to deal with them.”

They both stood and headed for the back door of the house, but half way there he pulled her to stop. “Would you like to go with me?”

Cece jerked. “What?”

“I have ride along privileges too,” he said. “Come with me. See what it is I do. I
promise
I will not let you in if it’s too gross. My fiancée should have the right to see what it is I do.”

“A
crime scene
?” Cece was really shocked.

“It’ll be secured by now, and I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to or go near the scene if you can’t handle it.”

Cece started at him. “Yes. Yes, alright. I’ll go.”

Paul nodded and marched them into the house where Rinette and Marjorie were wearing holes in the floor. He stopped and looked at them, then grabbed Cece’s hand. “I have a call. I promised my fiancée could go along with me to see what I do. We probably won’t be back today. Pick out the place settings and flowers according to the colors that Cece just told you—purple or blue with a yellow pop. End of story, don’t argue with us. You can select a few invites that you like, but I make no promise we’ll choose any of them.”

He turned and headed the two of them for the door, but paused with his hand on the knob. “You’d do well to remember this is our wedding, and we’re not pleased that it is. So tread lightly. Or there will be problems ahead.”

With that, he pushed the door open and they walked out to the car, the door slamming shut behind them. Cece quickly folded herself into the car—she was getting used to that move—and Paul followed her. She laughed when he closed the door, started the car and dropped into reverse all in one motion. “I’m not the only one who wants to leave, eh?”

“I just want to get out of here before they can try to argue with us again,” he said. He glanced over at Cece. “Keep that in mind next time. I don’t want this either.”

“But it’s more socially acceptable for the bride to be a ‘zilla, as opposed to a groomzilla.”

“Look, if they put squishy strawberries in my cake, shit’s gonna get real.”

*  *  *

The car struggled up the steep, winding drive, and popped out into an estate that had clearly been the victim of the Seventies. The mansion that was the centerpiece was lacking any and all charm, and just looked as though someone had vomited on the architectural plans and drew around it.

“This is the Tiropolous Estate, isn’t it?” Cece craned her neck to get a better look at the grounds.

“It is,” Paul answered. “When Andros lost his wife, this place went to pot. I’m sure this looks like a hording nightmare inside.”

Cece’s brain tickled a bit and spit out a memory. “They had a daughter?”

Paul cleared his throat. “They did.”

Cece felt her stomach plummet into her feet. “Dina.”

“The report is of a deceased female at the residence,” Paul supplied.

“Dina was older than us.” Cece thought for a moment. “She was in high school when we were in sixth. She was an outcast because her father was so quirky after her mother died. I don’t know what happened to her after high school.”

Paul pulled the car around to the front of the house where there were ambulances and several police cruisers—and the all too familiar car Detective Garabaldi usually drove. Paul parked next to the detective car and sighed. “You don’t have to come in. You can wait here.”

“If I’m allowed, I’d like to come with.”

“You’re allowed,” he nodded, and popped his door open. “You may not like it.”

“As long as I’m allowed.”

They climbed out of the car. “Please don’t touch anything and find a corner to stay out of the way. I don’t know what this looks like in here, but I’m going to have do all the field work so they can move the body. Shit.”

“Shit?” Cece asked, following his gaze. She landed on the ambulance waiting there. The back doors were open and a frail old man was seated on a wheel chair with a blanket and an oxygen mask. He looked tired and beaten down, and his face was wet with tears as his body shook with sobs.

“Andros Tiropolous.” Paul looked at Cece for a moment then seemed to take just two strides over to the officer near the closer of the cruisers. Cece ran after him. “Did Tiropolous find the body?”

The officer nodded. “Yes. He could barely get the address out to the dispatcher.”

“Crap,” Paul said. “Does he have anyone else?”

“Grandchild, but she’s four.” The officer pointed the ambulance again. There was a small child sleeping on a bed inside the truck. “Found her in the closet. Didn’t see a thing. She heard what she said were bad noises and hid until her grandfather came home. Had a hell of time trying to get her out of there, and keeping her away from the mess.”

Cece shivered. The poor thing. Paul was on the move again, his long legs carrying him away from the officer to the front of the house, and again she nearly had to run to catch up. She hadn’t seen him grab the backpack he had over his shoulder, but suspected that it was full of his… work tools.

The officer on the door nodded at Paul, but stopped Cece cold. “And you are?”

“Doctor Wainwright’s fiancée, Cece Robbe.” It felt weird to say it, but Cece was feeling strangely disconnected from reality at that moment.

The officer looked at Paul, who had pulled up short at his full title. He turned and looked at her and nodded. “Yes. She’s with me.”

“Lieutenant Garabaldi doesn’t like ride alongs on--”

“I’ll deal with the lieutenant,” Paul snapped. He turned and walked away from the officer after motioning Cece to follow.

Paul was all business from that moment. He walked through the house with confidence following the path of the officers that lined the hall. Cece kept up with him, but it was a trick. He was an imposing figure in the house, seem to almost push the ceilings away from himself.

Paul stopped dead at a door and looked in. Cece almost slammed into him, his stop was that abrupt. He held out his hand and pushed her back, away from the clear view she would have had from the door. “Let me go in here and deal with this first. It doesn’t look gory, but…” He glanced over. “My idea of gory isn’t anyone else’s.”