The Dom's Dungeon (26 page)

He put a
kiss on her forehead and let her go. As they headed to the kitchen, the kitten
darted ahead, bursting out of hiding to pounce on shoelaces before scampering
away again.

Alex
tucked an arm around
MacKensie's
waist, pulling her
closer. “
Stay, little vet
,” he'd said
on Wednesday without even thinking. But now that he'd had time to think, he
felt the same. Women had come and gone in his life—many women—but apparently
he'd been waiting for this wary little sub.

As he
started dishing up the food, something stung his calf. He looked down to see
the kitten climbing his jeans to get to the food.

MacKensie
sputtered out a laugh and disentangled the little guy. Holding him even with
her gaze, she frowned into the innocent blue eyes. “You've already eaten.
Twice.” Her gaze shifted to Alex, laughter bright in her eyes. “He's obsessed
with food.”

Alex held
up a tiny piece of crab to the kitten. The food disappeared. The kitten licked
Alex's finger clean, then, unsatisfied, sank tiny teeth into his thumb.

Alex
yanked his hand away, ignoring the snickering coming from his little sub. He
glanced at his thumb. No blood. “Ungrateful feline. You can get your own food
next time.” He rubbed the upright ears with a finger and sighed as claws
latched onto his sleeve and a pink nose checked his hand for more food.
“Definitely obsessed with food.” Alex glanced at
MacKensie
.
“Since we already have a Butler, I suppose this one can be our Chef and hang
out in the kitchen all day long.”

She
grinned at him. “A chef. Anything to avoid cooking, huh, Sir?”

“You'll
suffer for that impertinence, sub,” he growled at her.

No fear
appeared in her eyes, just a flash of heat. “Oh dear.”

As he
grinned, satisfaction washed through him. Her trust in him continued to grow.
She didn't jump when he touched her unexpectedly; her laughter came more
easily. Yet he'd seen the wariness in her eyes when she'd brought the kitten
home. She didn't fear him physically any longer, but emotionally?

He'd asked
her about her past twice in the last week. The last time, he could see from the
growing tenseness in her body, the way she ran her hands up and down her
thighs, that she'd wanted to share with him. But her uncertainty had won again.

A little
more time he'd give her, and then, if needed, he'd drag her back to the dungeon
for another session in trust.

As the
door to the mansion opened, Mac rubbed her clammy hands on her cape and
frowned. She'd heard of butterflies in the stomach, but hers felt more like
giant birds. With claws. She pressed her hand to her abdomen.
I'm a friendly, competent, pretty woman. I
can do this
. She could act like a lady and not humiliate herself or
embarrass Alex by doing something gauche.
Piece
of cake.

When she
glanced back at their car—again—Alex's arm slid around her waist, preventing any
escape. She glared into his amused eyes and managed to put a smile on her face.

“Good
evening. Please come in.” The butler—a real one—took their coats. He glanced at
Mac's attire and didn't—quite—sniff in disapproval.

Mac raised
her chin. Alex had wanted to buy her a dress, but she'd refused. She had an
adequate dress, after all. A basic black that she'd worn everywhere, ever since
her sorority sister Tiffany had tossed it across the room to Mac, declaring
she'd never wear the dismal color again.

In the center
of the foyer, Victoria turned from the last guest. When she saw Mac, her smile
disappeared. And probably not because of the dress.

Why did
Alex have to have a mother?
A rich,
dignified mother.

“I'm
pleased you both could come,” Victoria said, giving her son a kiss on the
cheek. “Alex, you know the way.”

Mac
stopped just inside the room and stared. A huge chandelier cast glimmering
light over people dressed in suits and cocktail dresses. The babble of
conversation swamped the soft music. Perfume and aftershave scented the air.

“You look
lovely, little vet.” Alex kissed her fingertips, then nipped one sharply enough
to make her squeak. “And when this is over, I intend to strip you out of that
pretty rag, bend you over a bench, and take you hard.”

Before she'd
recovered from the surge of heat at his totally unexpected words, he was
introducing her to an older couple. “John, Felicia, this is
MacKensie
Taylor. She's a vet and working with Susan Weston.
MacKensie
,
this is John and Felicia
Lordan
. They have three cats
from the shelter—or is it four now?”

Just that
easily, the conversation took off as Felicia talked about their newest adoptee.
Mac gave Alex an admiring glance before attending to the talk.

After
meeting more people, Mac turned to Alex. “Most of the people here are high
society and politicians, except for the slew of veterinarians infesting the
place. Isn't that combination a little strange?”

He
grinned. “My mother uses her parties for recruitment. She—” He broke off, his
attention on the door.

Pleasure
washed through Mac when Peter and Hope entered the room.
Look, I actually know someone in Seattle.

While the
men shook hands, Hope gave Mac a hug, saying, “I hoped you'd come.” The small
group wandered over to the drink table, presided over by a man in a black coat.

Mac smiled
at the bartender before confiding to Hope, “This is the first time I ever met a
real butler, but I like our Butler better. Not nearly as stuffy.”

“I have
noticed that myself.”

Mac turned
and froze. Alex's mother.
Oh
frak
. Open mouth, insert foot.

Alex
didn't seem to notice the chill as he laughed and said, “Our staff is growing,
Mother. We now have a Chef who spends most of his time in the kitchen.” Alex
grasped Mac's wrist and turned her arm over to display the scratch marks.

“
Our
staff?”
Victoria's eyebrows rose and then snapped together as her gaze turned to Mac. “
You
like
cats
?”

Alex's
voice turned cold as he said, “Enough to risk life and limb rescuing a scrawny
ball of fluff from the center of Mercer Street.”

Mac
winced. She'd thought the story of her dramatic rescue of the cat amusing.
Instead she had gotten swatted on the butt—really hard—for almost getting
killed.

“Well.”
The chill in Victoria's eyes eased. “Good for you. Far too many people don't
like cats.”

“I—Well,
hell,” Alex said and earned himself a real frown from his mother. He held up
his hand. “I'm sorry, Mother. I didn't realize I hadn't mentioned it at the
ball.
MacKensie's
a vet. Susan already snatched her
up to work at the hospital.”

Whoa. The
chill disappeared completely, Mac noticed, as Victoria murmured, “A vet.
Indeed.”

“Here she
goes,” Alex muttered, and then the full force of the woman's personality came
to bear on Mac.

“Alex is
obviously quite amiss in his introductions. I presume he neglected to tell you
that I run a cat rescue.”

Mac's jaw
dropped. “You?”

“Me. One
of the finest in the state. And we have many, many veterinarians”—she glanced
around the room with a smile—“who volunteer to help spay and treat our
residents.” Victoria tilted her head and waited.

Frak
, the
woman was way too much like her son. “I… Well, I just started working, but…I'd
be delighted to volunteer as soon as I know my schedule.” Actually she would.
She'd put in many hours back home doing just that. Her smile felt natural this
time. “I really would be happy to help.”

“Excellent.
You'll have to invite me over to meet…Chef.” Victoria accepted a drink from the
bartender with a nod of thanks. “Such names.” She shook her head. “A few years
back, I instructed my son to get a butler for his parties.” She took a sip of
her drink, nodded approval at the bartender. “Perhaps I might have indulged in
a slight amount of nagging.”

Mac kept
her mouth from dropping open. The regal posture couldn't hide the laughter
dancing in Victoria's blue eyes.

“As you
might have discovered,
MacKensie
, Alex doesn't
respond well to orders.”

“Um.
No. He
reacts rather badly.” Mac felt a flush creeping up her face. Just this
afternoon she'd instructed him to relax rather than building a cat condo. He'd
gagged her and cuffed her to a patio post. What kind of man had anchors
embedded in posts?

“Exactly,”
Victoria said. “So I was quite pleased when he said he'd found a fine butler.”

Mac choked
back a laugh as she realized what his mother meant.

“You
laugh?” Victoria raised her eyebrows. “I'll have you know, when we were
introduced, that incredibly ugly Butler of his
licked
my
ankle
.”

Oh Lord,
she could just see it. Mac couldn't keep the giggles down.

With a
tilt of her head and a smile, Victoria excused herself to see to her guests.

Hope
grinned. “Just when I think she's made of ice, she proves me wrong.”

Mac felt a
tiny upwelling of hope. Maybe Alex's mother didn't hate her after all. As the
others ordered drinks from the bartender, Mac watched Victoria make the rounds,
and she realized the woman intimidated every damn person she talked to. Even
the congressman.

For the
next hour, with either Hope or Alex at her side and eventually by herself, Mac
mingled and nibbled on hors d'oeuvres, argued about Seattle and Washington politics,
and gossiped about celebrities. She was actually having a good time, she
realized. Although a bit conservative, the guests were, without exception,
intelligent and involved.

Could life
get any better? She had a whole new world here, with a job and a lover and
friends. Time to call the real estate agent back in Iowa and get her house
listed for sale.

Smiling a
little, she turned and came face-to-face with Dickerson. She gasped.

His wet
lips drew up in a satisfied smirk. Grabbing her wrist, he leaned toward her.
“Want to change your mind, slut?”

The blood
drained out of her head, leaving her dizzy. This couldn't be happening.

“My bitch
of a wife might have left me”—the enraged, sick look in his eyes made Mac's
stomach twist—“but I'll have you to service me every night.”

Her mouth
filled with bile, but her answer was engraved in her very bones now. “No, I
won't.”

“You're
nothing.” Dickerson pulled her closer.

What would
it take to make him leave her alone? Insults? “I may be nothing, but you're
really little. And the worst I ever had.” Her voice wasn't loud, but people's
heads turned at the emotion in it. More turned when she wrenched her arm out of
his grasp. “Stay away from me.”

His face
turned a horrible purple. “Cunt. You don't belong here among decent people,” he
said, then raised his voice. “Victoria, this woman is a whore. She's from the
Midwest, where she worked out of an alley, servicing anyone who'd give her
money.”

Shocked
inhalations filled the air, each sound stabbing through her defenses, until she
wondered why there wasn't a pool of blood at her feet. She staggered back a
step and tore her gaze from his, only to meet the barrage of eyes. Condemning,
disgusted.

Victoria,
her mouth pinched thin. Hope, with her hands over her mouth.

Across the
room,
Alex
.
Eyes
like ice, yet filled with fury. He shoved a person out of his way and headed
straight for her.

She ran.

* * * * *

The lights
of the city never went dark.

Mac stood
on the balcony of the third-rate hotel and watched the cars crossing the Ballard
Bridge like a jeweled ribbon of light. The
saucerlike
Space Needle glowed high above the city. How many children thought it was an
alien spacecraft coming to steal them away?

“Take me
too,” she whispered, her hands clutching the railing. She stared up into the
night sky, clear of clouds, the stars muted by the city. Surely rain should be
pouring from the sky and the air should be cold, to match the aching chill
inside her.

How can the world go on when mine has been destroyed?

So many
people had attended Victoria's party—all the leaders of this city. The gossip
would spread, and then everyone would know about her and what she'd done.

In Oak
Hollow, Jim had given her a job because he loved her. But here? Even if she and
Susan were friendly, the other vets wouldn't permit an ex-whore to work there.
My job—gone.

No one
else would hire her.
My future—gone.

Hope's
face, the shock on it.
My new
friends—gone.