Requested Surrender (3 page)

That was certainly obtuse. She toyed with the idea of telling him so, but decided to stick to staring at the ugly apricot wall paint instead. “Because it was the right thing to do.”

“There’s that word again.” His low tone of voice got to her almost as badly as his next words. “And why is it that you recognize it as the right
thing
to do only after you got caught doing the wrong
thing
?”

She winced both times he said
thing
, as now she knew with absolute certainty that he wasn’t mad. He was furious. People, or more precisely, men in general never got mad at her. She learned the hard way how to get around them, but she didn’t want to examine that too closely. Instead she prided herself on how she’d adjusted by walking through intimate relationships on an even keel. When the ship rocked she disembarked. Plain and simple. Right now, however, the vessel was capsizing and there were no life boats, preservers or rafts. Sink or swim was a phrase that came to her and she decided to do the latter. Only to do that she needed to defuse this rapidly deteriorating situation and there was only one way she knew how.

Straightening her spine, she mustered as much bravado as she could when she turned to him. Without pausing, she launched her “when all else has failed” strategy and moved to take off her robe. She hadn’t even shrugged a shoulder forward and he stood.

“Stop.”

She had no choice. Every muscle in her body froze with that deep command. Every one, but her tongue. “I thought—”

His eyes glittered. The hazel-blue shine assured her he knew exactly what she’d had in mind.

She didn’t know what to do. She barely breathed, waiting. When a full thirty seconds tick by, she couldn’t take the silence any longer.

“I…” His stare deepened and she gulped. These systematic steps always worked for her. “I…” She licked her lips and swiped her dampened palms down the front of her robe. The look he gave her. The fire in his eyes. Why wasn’t he saying anything? Why didn’t he move? Speak? React?

She wanted so badly to look away. No, to slink away. He made her feel like that.
Someone else had made you feel that way too.
 Cheap. No, accountable—her heart pounded with the shame of it until she forced herself to focus on this situation, and when she did she remembered the chastity belt. That reminder gave her the courage to tackle him over it. He had no business covertly putting that on her. She narrowed her eyes and pointed directly at him. Ready to throw him on the defensive and demand he unlock it, when her newfound courage faltered. His quiet calm unnerved her so badly her whole arm trembled. With just one continuous look he was shattering her confidence. Annihilating her plan until she lowered her arm and that’s when she panicked.

An unreasonable panic that went into overdrive. Bad thoughts of a bad time.  Why now?
Because you let him get close and you were careless...again.
She refused to believe that, but the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach was telling her otherwise. No, things like this never happened to her. To her friends? Sure. To her? Never.
But it was happening.
Maybe that’s why she lost it. Even when she lunged, snatching her purse off the coffee table and turned to run to her bedroom, she had no idea why she was doing it.
You didn’t run last time and look how that turned out.
She knew this was all wrong and so not her style and yet there she was. Locking herself in by jamming a chair up under the door handle before she rummaged through her bag to find her phone.

She needed help. Jo and Ted. They’d help her, but when she got Jo’s voicemail she wanted to scream. She did scream, right into the phone. The words tumbled out so fast she wasn’t even sure what she was saying or asking. She kept right on going until she heard—Jesus Christ—the buzz of a saw. Until she—oh my God—spotted—what the hell was that? Not a saw—she squinted until her eyes focused on the outline being made on the backside of door. A circle. That’s what it was as the disc burrowed its way through the wood.

She was stunned. He wasn’t really doing this, was he? Her quiet and charming David that wined and dined her once a week?

The wood piece fell and when it hit against the slats of the chair, she was pulled out of her daze. Either that or it was the sound of buzzing getting louder that got her attention. She wasn’t positive. All she did was stare in horrified disbelief as David’s hand fit through the newly made hole. He didn’t feel around and there was literally no hesitation as his fingers instantly closed over the chair back before he pushed it aside. After it toppled he simply fit his hand over the knob, turned it and opened the door.

And there he was…

Without a thought she threw the phone at him and wanted to cry when he ducked to the left and it sailed right over him. It hit the hardwood beyond with a spectacular crash. Half the phone jumped right, a quarter went left and the remainder landed in a scattered mess under the coffee table.

  She didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t sure she was breathing, even, when he shut off the machine and slowly lifted it so he could blow the sawdust off the back of his hand. When he was finished he tilted his head and calmly asked, “Are you done?”

She had no answer for him as the disc’s slowing rotation had her mesmerized. Enthralled and captivated, but then she looked up and really wished she’d stuck to getting dizzy watching the spinning metal because now she had another reason to be dizzy.

The ire she spotted shining in his penetrating eyes...

Chapter Three

“You—you tunneled through the door.”

David shrugged off Lacy’s accusation. He didn’t need to read her tea leaves to know she wasn’t happy about it.

“You—you could have injured me. How did you know I wasn’t leaning against it?”

Simple. He’d looked through the lock, but he wasn’t going to tell her that.

His silence caused her to warm up to the subject as she repeated, “You wrecked my door.”

Sure and he wasn’t about to explain either that he’d seen the raised panel replacement leaning up against a wall on the porch earlier, and if that weren’t proof enough that it was expendable, there’d been a big red ‘x’ on this one, right in the center where he’d tunneled. He knew what that meant. It indicated Joe was going to demolish it eventually, so he didn’t get why she was bitching about it. It wasn’t like he ruined a perfectly good door. “I did.”

“You…? I want the key.”

He bent and put the small hand tool down. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed how she nervously edged closer to the bed. Not a very wise move for a woman in possible peril.

“Are you going to give it to me?”

He straightened. “What? The key to the belt?”

Her chin lifted a notch. “Yes.”

“No.”

“No?”

“How is it you sound surprised by my answer?” He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting. Fuming because she looked damn good. All clean and shiny. Even at this distance he was nearly drowning in her scent. She smelled like fresh strawberries. She probably tasted like them too. And her hair. He loved her hair. It was thick. She normally wore it straight so when she turned, it swung over her shoulders like watery silk. But right now, after being left to dry on its own for a bit, it had worked into a series of soft coils that begged for him to spear through the sausage-like twists and separate the strands with his fingers.

“You’re a reasonable man.”

If she knew what he was envisioning doing to her right at the moment she’d take that back. “I can be.” He came away from the doorframe and sighed. “Unfortunately I’m not feeling very reasonable right at the moment.” He uncrossed his arms and made a big show of picking a few stray bits of sawdust off his Armani suit as he added, “In fact, until I get some answers and you and I figure out how we’re going to move forward from here, I think it’s best you don’t make any demands.”

“I’m not wearing this and you can’t make me.”

He stopped picking and cocked his head to study her. Waiting until a bright blush colored her cheeks. “I wouldn’t be so hasty with that declaration. After all,” he pulled the key out of his pocket and held it up, “I have the decision maker right here.”

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but her shrugging offhandedly before she mimicked him by folding her arms over her chest was definitely not it.

“Gee, I’d sit down for what I’m guessing is going to be a fascinating lecture on proper female comportment, but the leather’s hard. There’s no give as”—she leaned forward and loudly whispered—“it hasn’t been worn in yet and trust me on this, it won’t be.”

This was the first time he actually got—as in literally—the term ‘hot under the collar’. He had visions of tugging on his tie until it was loose. Unbuttoning his shirt. Taking off his coat. Rolling up his sleeves and dragging her over his knees for a spanking she wouldn’t soon forget.

Instead he shoved the key back into his pocket and asked, “Were you sleeping with him?”

“Joe?”

He lowered his voice. “Are there other men I should be asking you about?”

“Other…? No.” He was glad when she scowled because it meant he’d touched a nerve. Yet she was calmer and more in control when she said, “As for Joe? No, I wasn’t.”

How was that possible? He stared at her trying to make sense of what she was saying. Was she lying? It was hard to tell. She had a great poker face. One of the things that really attracted him to her. “I want you to look at me when you answer this next question.”

“I am.”

“In the eyes. Good. Now, do you want to continue exploring a relationship with me? Really think about this, as once you give me an answer, there’s no turning back. It’s either yes or no. You commit or you don’t.”

She didn’t blink and he wasn’t sure whether to be happy or pissed about that kind of courage. He went with pissed a scant second later when she pushed the envelope. “Are you going to unlock this belt?”

Guts. She certainly had them. What he wanted to know was why? Every time he backed her into a corner the brat in her came out swinging. He walked to her until there was less than an arm’s length between them and answered, “No. Regardless of your choice you’ll have to earn your way out of that, so don’t let the prospect of freedom sway your decision.”

Her jaw dropped at the same instance her arms did when she hunched forward and looked up at him with wide eyes. She reminded him of an outraged child who’d been told she couldn’t join the other kids in the candy store. “How is that fair?”

A curl slid against the right side of her cheek and he had to fight the urge to reach out to touch it. “Who said anything about fair?

That snapped her to attention so fast the lone curl sailed backward with a bounce. “I suppose I had this coming.”

He wasn’t going to launch into that argument as he wanted to drive things forward instead of back. “An answer?”

She searched his face and he could almost smell the wood burning. She wasn’t stupid. She knew there was going to be a catch but was she willing to commit without knowing what the catch was? That was the real question.

“Yes. Okay. Why not? My answer is yes, I’d like to continue for as long as…”

She was stuck on how best to continue. They both knew it so he threw her a bone. “Let’s not worry about longevity at the moment. I’d rather be practical.”

“Me too. Can we just get this over with? I’m not going to argue with you. I made a mistake. I’ve already apologized but if that wasn’t enough for you, tell me what you want me to say and I’ll say it. I’m leaving for the Dominican in less than twenty-four hours.”

Now came the hard part. “What does your leaving have to do with us being practical?” When she stepped back and went to open her mouth to explain it to him he held up his hand in a bid to silence her. “Nothing. Unless you’re worried about setting off the security alarms at the airport.”

“Exactly. I’m glad you understand.”

David’s heart went out to her because she truly believed he was going to let this slide. He supposed the way he’d dealt with her thus far was the reason behind that egregious misconception.

“Oh, I understand.” He turned and walked to the large upholstered chair positioned in the corner. Sitting down he looked right at her. “But I’m sure TSA has come across kinkier stuff than The Queen Anne locked on a person.”

“Yes, well, I’d rather not find out if that’s true. Do you think it’s true?”

Ethan’s wife must be rubbing off on her. Lacy actually scrunched her nose when she’d asked that question and all he did was nod.

“So what’s it going to take? A handwritten apology?”

“Don’t be flip.”

“When you stare at me like that it makes me nervous.”

“I’m glad something I do has an effect on you.”

She scowled. “Lots of things you do affect me.”

He doubted that. If it were true they wouldn’t be dealing with all this. “I’m only going to ask you once. Why did you do it?”

When she did one of her devil-may-care shrugs again, his palm started to itch. He wanted to spank all that nonchalance right out of her. “Simple. With Joe here, there was no fear that I’d invite you over.”

“You worried about me being here?”

“Yes, because then we’d screw and as soon as we did, everything would end.”

“I see.”

“I can tell you don’t believe me, but it’s true. Follow my logic with this.”

“I’m trying.”

She pursed her lips and tilted her head studying him. “I know—at least I was told by Colin—that you have a strict policy about your home. No women. You only play at the clubs and since I don’t do that, my place would have been the logical choice, right?”

Her place being a logical choice? Yeah, the answer to that was never, but he didn’t share that with her. Instead he asked, “Why do you think everything would end if we were intimate?”

“It always happens that way.”

“Ah…” He nodded, adding this little gem to the growing list of her fucked up shit. She was a veritable treasure trove buried under the minutia of a life he couldn’t wait to dig her out of.

She pulled the edges of her robe together, hugging herself. “The thing with Joe. It’s not what you think.”