The Keyholder (15 page)

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, honey.” Gently Jack took her into his strong arms, and Eva felt herself instantly calming, the nightmare receding like a wave moving off the shore. “You’re awake now. You’re safe here with me.”

Eva luxuriated in his touch, afraid to move in case he pulled away. Those warm, strong arms around her were definitely the silver lining to the nightmares that still sometimes plagued her, despite the passage of time. She had come to crave his touch, his scent, his sweet, tender words whispered softly to her in the dark. She wanted more, oh so much more, but he continued to hold her at arm’s length, both literally and figuratively.

She sensed he was attracted to her as well, though you’d never know it by his always gentlemanly behavior, even when she was aching for something more. It was frustrating beyond belief, and she knew she either had to press the issue or move out. She couldn’t go on living in this man’s home and pining for his touch.

She had asked Nora, with whom she was becoming very good friends, if maybe Jack was gay, though she hadn’t gotten that vibe from him. Nora had assured her he was straight, and Dom to boot, but you couldn’t prove it by Eva. If only she still had her long blond hair and her easy, outgoing approach to the world in general and men in particular. She would have seduced the sexy artist in a New York minute. But Phillip, or rather Blake, had stolen that from her, along with her confidence. So she stayed quiet, waiting and hoping Jack would figure out what was so obvious to her.

This disconnect between the two of them had become the main focus of her therapy sessions with Dr. Anderson, who was encouraging her at this point in her recovery to be more direct with Jack, if that was what she wanted. Nora had offered to have Charles talk to Jack, but Eva made her promise she would not. The last thing she wanted was for Jack to feel manipulated because he felt sorry for her. No. It had to come from Jack without duress, or not at all.

Still, it felt so good when he held her, and she couldn’t resist snuggling against his bare chest. Without meaning to, she lifted her face toward his, her eyes fluttering shut for a kiss.

She was startled but not really surprised when he pulled away. “You think you’ll be okay?” he asked, his eyes moving solicitously over her face, studiously avoiding the perk of her nipples beneath the satin nightgown she wore.

Embarrassed, Eva bit back a cry of pure frustration.
Give it a little more time
, she told herself.
Show him you’re ready, and maybe he’ll come around
. Aloud she said, “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” She shook her head. “It’s been a while, huh? I thought I was done with these stupid nightmares.” She tried to smile. “Sorry I disturbed you.”

Jack stood. He looked so good, bare-chested in just his pajama bottoms, his hair tousled, a sexy stubble on his jaw. “Please, don’t apologize. I’m just so sorry you have to go through this. Can I get you a glass of water or something?”

Eva resisted a sudden, powerful urge to slide from the bed and kneel up in the same position as the lovely sculpture he’d been working on all these weeks, her face lifted in submission, her body offered in service. Ironically, it was that same submissive impulse that kept her from moving at all. “No.” She shook her head. “No, I’m good, thanks. Sleep well.”

“You, too, Eva,” Jack replied, and he was gone.

Eva glanced at the wall clock in the kitchen. Jack would be home soon from the seminar he was teaching. He’d seemed surprised but pleased when she told him she would be cooking dinner that night. Neither of them spent much time in the kitchen, and since she’d been staying with him, they’d mostly subsisted on takeout and sandwiches, which was fine with Eva. Just having enough to eat and drink, after the imprisonment at Hawthorne Dungeon, made her more than happy.

“What’s the occasion?” he had asked with a quizzical smile.

It’s the first stage in my seduction plan.
“I feel like cooking. I’m going to check out that new market that just opened and see if I can’t get something fresh.”

She’d told Nora of her plan to serve a romantic meal, complete with wine and candles, and then move to phase two of her plan. “He has to realize I’m ready to move on from what happened,” she’d said to Nora over lunch the day before. “Yes, it was horrific, but I categorically refuse to let it define me, or to limit my options in the future. I’ve dropped more hints than I can count that I’m attracted to him, and that I would love to explore something more than friendship, but he doesn’t seem to get it. The time for subtlety is over. I’m ready to bash him over the head with my desires, and if he rejects me”—she’d shrugged and forced a laugh, though she knew Nora, who was exceptionally discerning, wasn’t fooled by her bravado—“then at least I’ll know for sure he’s got no interest. It’s time I started looking for my own place, anyway. Dr. Anderson says I’m ready to return to the workplace, once I figure out what the heck I want to do with my life.”

She still had enough money from the cash Jessica and the other keyholders had insisted she take to live for several months on her own without working, even in Manhattan. She felt ready to reclaim some semblance of normalcy, which included striking out on her own once more. It was possible, she recognized, that until she moved out of Jack’s place, he wasn’t going to be able to view her as more than some wounded animal he’d rescued, someone out of bounds when it came to relationship potential.

Eva wiped her hands nervously on her apron and poured a glass from the bottle of chilled white wine she’d opened for the meal. The smell of roasting chicken and potatoes wafted tantalizingly from the oven. Carrying her wineglass, Eva went into her small bedroom area and selected the very sexy new bra and panty set she’d bought for the occasion.

After a quick shower, she applied minimal makeup and put on the new underwear. She slipped on a sleeveless, royal blue silk top, which was cut low enough to show what cleavage she had, and stepped into the long, flowing skirt, leaving her feet bare. Eva gave a last glance in the mirror and smiled, though her heart was fluttering nervously. “It’s show time, folks,” she said with a grin and a toss of hair that was no longer there.

The chicken was ready, the rolls were warmed and waiting in their basket, the butter, salt and pepper on the table. Long, tapered candles sat in pretty ceramic holders she’d found at an outdoor market earlier in the week. Eva was just finishing the green beans when Jack buzzed from below, as he always did when he came home, just to let her know he was on his way up.

“Hmm, something smells fantastic,” he enthused as he entered the loft. He stopped abruptly and stared at Eva. “Wow,” he said, his eyes moving with obvious appreciation over her. “You look really nice, Eva.”

“Thank you,” she said, suddenly shy from this rare praise.

“Look what I have.” He brought the hand he’d held behind his back forward to reveal a bouquet of brightly colored flowers wrapped in green tissue paper.

They were not exactly the red roses of romance, but still Eva was delighted. “They’re beautiful!” she exclaimed.

“My contribution to the meal,” he said with a satisfied smile. “I even have a vase somewhere in the kitchen cabinets.” He hadn’t said, “These are for you,” but Eva told herself not to read too much into that. Men were clueless sometimes, and had to be led along the labyrinth of romance.

The vase retrieved, the flowers settled on the table and the candles lit, they sat down to the meal. Jack was excited about the seminar he was teaching to fine arts grad students at NYU, and as they ate, Eva tried to focus on what he was saying, instead of her own nerves.

The food had come out better than she could have hoped, and when they’d both eaten their fill, she began to clear the table, refusing to let Jack help. “I’m serving you tonight, Sir,” she said airily, though calling him Sir sent a ripple of excitement through her nerve endings. “If you’ll wait in the living area, I’ll be right out with dessert.”

Jack protested, but not too much. With a laugh, he settled himself on the sofa and began to leaf through the art magazine he’d brought home. Eva hurriedly finished clearing the table and dumped the dishes in the sink. She would clean up later. “Oh my god, am I really going to do this?” she whispered. She lifted her hand to her mouth and started to tug on a cuticle, but caught herself in time. She no longer did that, she reminded herself. She was cool, calm and collected.

She closed her eyes and focused for several moments on her breathing, letting her mind empty of its clutter. She willed the tension to ease out of her muscles. “Grace, courage, submission,” she murmured as she slipped out of the skirt and pulled her top over her head. She glanced down at her breasts, small but presented to their best advantage in the sexy black push-up bra. Her nipples were perking in anticipation against the sheer lace of the demi-cups.

“Grace, courage, submission,” she mouthed as she stepped silently into the dining area. The sofa where Jack sat was angled so his back was to her, which was perfect for her plans. Taking a deep breath, she knelt on the throw rug beside the table, knees spread, back straight, fingers laced at her neck, the very picture of submissive grace.

“Dessert is ready,” she called softly.

Jack stood and turned, his smile faltering as he took in her pose. “Eva,” he said hoarsely. Clearing his throat, he added, “What are you doing?”

Not the most encouraging response, but Eva soldiered on. “I am offering myself to you, Sir. I am offering the gift of my submission.”

Jack stood as if frozen, while Eva’s heart clutched in her chest.

“Oh, Eva,” he finally said, his face crumpling. “I can’t. It’s not right. What he did. You’re not… I can’t.”

Eva looked down sharply, the burn of embarrassment coloring her face. Shame flooded her senses, filling her throat with bile and her eyes with tears. He didn’t want her. Not as a lover, not as a sub. He still viewed her as broken, too fragile to claim, too damaged to desire.

Without realizing she had moved, Eva found herself stumbling past Jack toward her room. She grabbed blindly for the jeans and blouse she’d been wearing earlier in the day and pulled them on. Jamming her feet into some shoes, she grabbed her purse and her cell phone. Her breath was ragged and sharp, and tears spilled down her cheeks.

She had to get out of there! She had to get away from the look of pity and sorrow on Jack’s handsome face or she would scream.

As she ran from her space, she inadvertently knocked against the partition that separated her room from the rest of the loft. It nearly toppled, but she didn’t care. She raced to the front door, grabbed her jacket from the coat tree with one hand and fumbled for her house key with the other.

“Eva! Wait. What are you doing? Wait, I’m sorry. Please, let’s
—
” She didn’t hear the rest of Jack’s sentence as she slammed the door shut and sprinted toward the stairwell. She flew down the stairs, taking them two at a time. She could hear Jack above, still calling her, but that just made her go faster.

She burst out into the night. People were walking along the sidewalks, traffic moving in the street, no one paying her the slightest bit of attention, which suited her fine.

The air was crisp and cold and she drew in a deep, shuddering breath. She saw a yellow cab heading her way and stepped to the curb, her hand out. When the taxi slowed to stop, she opened the back door and scrambled inside. She glanced at the entrance of Jack’s building just in time to see him step outside, his expression anxious as he peered into the night.

“Don’t worry about me, Jack McQuade,” she muttered as her cab pulled into the traffic. “I can take care of myself, despite what you think.” She checked her contacts in her phone and gave the driver Nora and Charles’ address, aware they might not even be home. Leaning back, she sent Nora a quick text:
I need to see you. Can I come by? Are you home?

Anyone else Eva knew would have asked her if she was okay, would have wanted details and information, but Nora only texted back a few seconds later:
Yes. We’ll be waiting.

Nora stood in the lobby of her apartment building, watching through the glass doors as she waited. When a cab pulled up, she saw the passenger lean forward to pay the man. A moment later, Eva stepped out onto the curb. Nora opened the lobby door and waved as Eva approached.

When she saw Eva’s tearstained face, her heart clutched in sympathy. Eva tried to look brave as they entered the foyer of the building together, but when she stepped into Nora’s arms, she started to cry. Nora held her close for several long moments, sending all the love and strength she had into her friend. Then she gently disengaged from Eva’s embrace and pulled a tissue from her pocket, which she handed to Eva.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Nora said, leading Eva toward the small bank of elevators. The car she had taken was still waiting, and the doors slid open the moment she pressed the button. As they rode up to Nora’s floor, Eva wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “The idea of the romantic dinner with me as the dessert misfired horribly. I’m
such
an idiot.”

“On the contrary,” Nora replied. “The idiot is back at his loft, cursing himself.”

Eva managed a wan smile. “He rejected me. He doesn’t want damaged goods.”

“Stop it,” Nora said with a brisk shake of her head. “You aren’t an object in need of repair, and I know Jack well enough to know he doesn’t think of you that way. He’s just scared, Eva. He thinks he has to be gallant and protect you. He doesn’t understand how strong you are. He thinks by denying you and himself, he’s doing ‘the right thing.’” She used air quotes to emphasize the words.

“I just feel so humiliated. I put myself out there, you know? I took a big risk, and I failed.” Tears glistened in Eva’s eyes, a single one rolling down her cheek. She hung her head like a woman defeated.

“No,” Nora said gently but firmly. “You didn’t fail. You offered yourself with honesty and courage. You can’t control how Jack responded, but you can control how you handle yourself going forward. You know what they say, right? When you fall off the horse, you climb back up and keep going.”