The Billionaire Submissive (Billionaires in Bondage) (27 page)

“Really.” Stunned, Marie fell back against her chair. “Wow, I never would have thought. I mean, look at him. He’s got it all. Wealth, looks, prestige, power. He owns dozens of companies, probably has hundreds if not thousands of employees. Yet he wants a Mistress?”

Lilly nodded. “Sometimes the more power a man has in his life, the more he craves giving up his power behind closed doors.”

“You’ve had a man for Lilly but he couldn’t handle the Mistress, and dozens of men for the Mistress who did nothing for you. Does he satisfy both sides of the equation for you?”

“Yes.”

“But?”

She smiled at her friend. “You know me so well.”

“I knew it was going well because I haven’t seen hide nor hair of you for weeks. That’s not a complaint—I know you’re working like crazy to do his commission. You need someone and I hate seeing you lonely. But watching you now… I think you’re afraid. Your heart’s getting involved, which scares the crap out of you.”

“He keeps trying to take care of me.”

Marie choked on her drink. “And that’s a problem? You and I both know you can’t cook or drive for shit. You need someone to at least take you to restaurants or you’d starve to death.”

“He sent a driver to be at my beck and call, but half the time I forget to call for the car anyway.”

“And he takes you to the best places in the Twin Cities to eat. Why is that a problem?”

Lilly had to smile. Gus’s Family Diner couldn’t compete with a Michelin-star restaurant, but then again, he’d taken her to both.
Rather, he brought the Michelin chef to me.
“I don’t need anyone to take care of me.” She had to pause a minute, waiting for Marie to stop laughing. “Just look at this fucking monstrous plant on steroids he sent me! I wouldn’t need this much aloe if I’d fallen into a fire pit and burned every inch of my body.”

“Sorry,” Marie gasped, wiping her eyes. “It’s just so funny. I can’t believe you’re bitching about a filthy rich man wanting to take care of you. I mean honestly, Lil, I don’t think it ever occurred to him. He’s used to throwing diamonds and silks and furs at his dates and you’re offended he bought you a
plant
.”

“That’s not the problem. Not really. Although I hate it when he plays Mr. Moneybags, he does it deliberately to give me more excuses to punish him, which is far from a hardship.”

Sobering, Marie took a sip and waited for her to explain.

Again, she knows me too well. If she tries to drag the truth out of me, I’ll resist. But if she sits here and waits…
She sighed heavily. “He’s wonderful. He challenges Mistress L and treats Lilly with respect and tenderness. I have to fight him every step of the way to keep him from blowing money on frivolous things I couldn’t care less about. He’s sexy as hell and the things he’s let me do… I’ve never had a submissive like him before. And that’s the problem.”

“Why?”

“What if his secret gets out? What if someone finds out about Mistress L’s past clients? Gossip could really hurt him, both financially and professionally. The media would jump to the same conclusion he did at first, that I’m basically a whore for hire who just happens to bring a crop to her client’s bed. He wouldn’t want the scandal, so he’d end up paying bribes or suing to keep a lid on it. I can’t even imagine how much money he’d waste on lawyers trying to shut everyone up.”

“Why do you think he wouldn’t be able to deal with it?”

“He’s so damned proud. I don’t think his ego could take it. I mean think about it. He’s a rich, powerful, successful businessman. The last person you’d ever think would be a sexual submissive. I can see the headlines now:
Morgan Industries CEO Hires Dominatrix, Begs for Whips and Chains
.”

“Does he?”

“I’ll never tell.” Lilly waggled her eyebrows suggestively, though she couldn’t keep up the joke, because… “I don’t want to see him hurt like that. It’s one thing for me to bring him to his knees in private. But to have it happen publicly… It would destroy him.”

Marie leaned forward and took her hand. “So what’s the alternative? You dump him to save him the hurt that hasn’t and may never happen?”

Just thinking about it made a pit the size of the Grand Canyon open up in her stomach. “No. I can’t let him go. Not unless he
wants
to go.”

“You can’t control everything, Mistress L, as much as you’d like otherwise. You can’t control whether or not this secret gets out. You can’t control his reaction. You certainly can’t control a media circus.”

“I know. All I can control in the end is myself, and him, as long as he allows it. I just…” Her throat tightened. Her stomach churned. And damn it all to hell if her eyes didn’t burn too. “I don’t want him to get hurt.”

“You love him,” Marie whispered softly.

Her first instinct was to deny it. Vehemently. Because if she loved him…really loved him… “If the worst happens and he has to distance himself… If he ends up on TV claiming he never knew me, or we weren’t ever intimate, that I mean nothing to him…”

“It would destroy you.”

“Yeah. It’d be like sitting at Sherri and Benjamin’s wedding, watching her come down the aisle, and then having her change her mind at the last minute and flee the chapel. God, that would suck. I don’t think I’d ever recover.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted, though? You wanted the kind of love your brother has.”

Lilly shot her a hard, narrowed look. “Thanks a lot.”

Marie smirked, squeezed her hand, and then stood up to leave. “It’s sort of a package deal, hon. If you love someone that much, it kills you when they leave. Are you going to tell him?”

“Tell him what?”

Marie rolled her eyes. “He has a right to know you love him.”

Lilly stood and hugged her friend goodbye. “I never said I love him. I’m certainly not going to tell him.”

“Actions speak louder than words, hon, so you know damned well how he feels about you, and your eyes certainly can’t lie to me. You love that man. Now figure out how to deal with everything else that might come up.”

Actions speak louder than words.
Lilly sighed and leaned against the door. From the very first weekend, he’d been telling her over and over how much he wanted her. Not with the clothes or fancy chef he’d brought in, but the little things. The way he’d been willing to leave the lake house and bring her home to make sure she was comfortable. Dealing with Hank. Sleeping over at her mediocre townhome when he owned a fucking castle in England just so he could be near her. Sending lunch to the warehouse because he worried she might not eat. And yes, the fucking huge aloe plants every time she turned around.

The way he’d reacted at seeing her hurt. The trust in his eyes every time he went to his knees for her. The whisper of his hands and mouth on her skin. He’d been telling her over and over how much he cared, but she kept trying to tune it out.

I don’t want him to get hurt. By me, especially. Not that way.

Her phone rang. Glancing at the number, she picked up the call. “Hey, Sally. What’s up?”

“There’s been an accident.”

The woman’s voice quivered, thick with tears. Lilly threw open the door to flag Marie down, but she was already gone. “What happened? Is anyone hurt?”

“We’re fine. Oh, Lilly, I’m so sorry. We meant to surprise you. Joe and I had the crew meet us downtown to install the first window.”

“What?” Lilly winced at the volume of her voice and dialed it down a notch. “The installers weren’t supposed to come until tomorrow afternoon. I had it all set up.”

“I know,” Sally sobbed. “We thought… You’ve been working so hard. It was supposed to be a surprise, both for you and Mr. Morgan. To thank him for everything. But as we were lifting it into place, one of the workers lost his grip and the corner slipped out of his hand.”

Lilly closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing slowly and deeply.
Control. It could be worse. No one’s hurt.

But with her eyes closed, she could see the window shattered on the ground. The first one, the centerpiece. Donovan’s eagle.

“Does Mr. Morgan know yet?”

“No. Lilly, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all right. It’s just glass. It’s not the end of the world.” She grabbed her purse and dug around looking for her keys. “Is it bad enough we’ll have to start over?”

“I don’t know. I’m too scared to look. My first thought was to call you.”

“I’m on my way. Keep it low key if you can. I don’t want Mr. Morgan freaking out and shutting the whole project down for fear of falling glass. Put up some warning cones and keep everyone out of the way. I’ll get there as quickly as I can.”

Donovan sat down at his desk, and for the first time in days, didn’t wince.
Guess it’s time to be extravagant and earn Mistress L’s wrath.

His phone rang but he didn’t recognize the number right away. “Donovan Morgan.”

“Mr. Morgan, this is Charlie Wilson. The parking attendant in the Galtier ramp?”

“Yes, of course. What can I do for you, Charlie?”

“Well, I hate to bother you, but I thought you’d want to know. The car you bought the pass for? She just came through in a hurry.”

Donovan jumped to his feet. “Is she all right?”

“She looked real upset. I don’t think she knew where to park so she just left her car smashed up against the curb, jumped out and ran for the door.”

Smashed. Dear God.
“Was she bleeding? Hurt?”

“Oh, nothing like that, sir. She didn’t wreck and the car’s half up on the curb so she’s not completely blocking traffic. Though we ought to get it moved by 3:00 p.m. so we don’t have a problem with rush hour.”

“Of course. I’ll take care of it personally. Thank you, Charlie. I appreciate your call.”

Donovan hung up, his mind racing. Why would she rush downtown and not call him? It had to be something with the windows, but the last he’d heard, they weren’t planning to install anything until tomorrow. Worried, he headed downstairs. Foot traffic through the plaza level was light since it was mid-afternoon, but those warning cones had definitely not been there before. A group of people hovered near the windows, bent down over something on the floor. His heart thundered until he located Lilly’s head in the crowd, her hair a tumbled mass drawing his gaze.

He strode straight to her, took her arm firmly, and drew her up to her feet. Without a word, he looked her over, verified she didn’t have blood, cuts, scrapes or bruises, and then drew her into his arms in a crushing hug.

“I’ll fix it,” she wheezed. “I’ll take care of it. Please don’t be upset.”

He loosened his fierce grip on her only to cup her face in both hands and tip her head so he could lean down and glare into her eyes. “I don’t give a flying fuck about anything but you. Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Is anyone else hurt?”

“No.”

“Then I’m not upset.” Easing his ferocity, he leaned down and brushed his mouth against hers, lowering his voice so the others wouldn’t overhear. “Three. You didn’t call me. You drove. And I had to curse.”

“It’s my fault, Mr. Morgan.” Joe stood up, for once without a single smirk or cocky grin. “I had the brilliant idea of surprising you two. Lilly didn’t even know we were here.”

“It’s not that bad.” She turned back to the group, but she leaned against Donovan, her hand fisted in the back of his shirt beneath his coat. “We’ll have to take the whole thing back to the shop and replace about a hundred pieces, but it’s salvageable.”

“We’ll get it back in one piece.” Joe grimaced, hanging his head. “Well, the ones still intact.”

“It’ll put us a few days behind schedule.”

Donovan could hear the worry ringing in her voice so he tightened his arm around her, keeping her against his side. “Not a problem. This schedule has always been fluid and flexible. Thanks for your hard work, everyone. I appreciate your time. I’m going to drag Lilly away for the afternoon now, so call me directly if any other issues arise.”

Before she could think to argue, he whisked her toward the door and outside. Pace brisk, he crossed the street and headed for the parking garage. He almost made it back to her car before she dug in her feet and refused to go another step.

“You.”

Just inside the ramp entrance, he paused and met her gaze.

“I was so upset my only thought was to get here quickly. I didn’t know where to park, so I came here. And the bar went up.”

“Of course,” he said easily, keeping his voice light.

“Why did the bar go up for my car?”

“Because I had a parking tag installed on your windshield when they serviced your car. Actually you could have gone to any of the parking ramps in downtown St. Paul and parked.”

“Any of them?”

Taking her hand, he tugged her inside. “Yes. Where’d you leave your car? We have to move it.”

“I don’t know.”

Her voice sounded funny. Broken, soft and unsure. Concerned, he paused again and searched her face. “We’ll find it. It’s no big deal.”

“It’s a huge fucking deal, Donovan.”

“Four. Never mind, Charlie will know where it is.” If she’d turned in off 5th Street, then she probably would have left it close to the entrance, so he backtracked, dragging her along. Sure enough, her little red Focus was half up on the curb. “We need to work on your parking, sweetheart.”