The Romantic Dominant (12 page)

“Just tell me what you like. I can make almost anything.”

“Wonderful. Here, why don’t you slice the pizza and I’ll pour us some wine.”

“Wine? You have wine?”

“Of course. Would you prefer something else?”

“I would loooove a glass of wine,” she groaned, rolling her eyes. “I haven’t had alcohol in…”

He saw the shadow cross her face. For just a few minutes she had been able to push away the nightmare but it had stumbled back. He quickly moved to her side and put an arm around her shoulder.

“It’s okay. You’re safe here, and trust me, not only will he not find you I’m going to make sure he’s exposed. His days of victimizing women are over.”

“I’m okay. It’s just so…I can’t quite believe all this,” she whispered. “I’m afraid it’s a dream and I’m going to wake up.”

“You’re right, it is a dream,” he smiled, “a dream that has come true,”
for us both
.

She sighed heavily and leaned against his chest.

“You’re my knight in shining armor,” she breathed.

“Delighted to be at your service,” he replied. “You start slicing, and I’m going to pour the wine.”

A few minutes later, seated across from her, Zander watched her hungrily devour the rich cheese pie. Between mouthfuls of food and sips of wine he steered the conversation away from anything related to her long ordeal, and talked about his retail centers and how he was about to build his first condominium complex.

“You know what I really need, is a first rate interior designer,” he declared.

“Sure,” she smiled.

“Seriously. This place was done when I moved in here, except for my bedroom, and I have to confess I went a little nuts in there.”

“How?” she asked. “I can’t imagine you going nuts about anything.”

“You’ll see,” he chuckled. “I’d like a do-over. The same feel but a bit more dignified.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really, but getting back to the condo development. There’s going to be a model unit and I need an expert to pick out colors, cabinetry, flooring and so forth. I want the units to feel homey, not like apartments. You wouldn’t happen to know any interior designers looking for work would you?”

Picking up a napkin she slowly wiped her hands and took a long swallow of her wine.

“That was the best pizza and best glass of wine I have ever had,” she said softly. “I will never take such simple things for granted ever again. As to your question, there might be someone available soon, but at present that someone is still in shock, but not so much that she doesn’t know what you are trying to do and is truly grateful.”

Zander sighed, looking at her sheepishly.

“Sorry, I guess I got a bit carried away. I just want you to know you have your life back.”

From the moment she had seen him standing at the bar in Willows she had been drawn to him, like a steel nail to a magnet. His warm blue eyes had exuded confidence and she had found him profoundly attractive. Now he had swept back into her life and rescued her. Truly rescued her, and as she sat across from him she could still feel the spark; in spite of all she’d been through it had not been extinguished.

“What?” he asked.

Her green eyes were locked on his, and she had been very still and very quiet as she’d stared at him.

“I was just remembering when he met,” she sighed.

“Seems like yesterday,” he remarked softly.

“It does, and it also feels like a lifetime ago,” she murmured.

“I’m sure it does,” he nodded,
everything you’ve been through.

“I suddenly feel very tired,” she yawned. “It must be the wine.”

“I think it’s more than that,” he said softly. “You must be absolutely exhausted. Would you like to nap? Watch television?”

“I’d like to see your bedroom, and then, if I may make a personal request?”

“Anything,” he assured her.

“I’d really like lay on your bed and rest against you, just to feel safe, but only if you have the time, or want to.”

“Of course I do, and of course I do,” he smiled warmly.

Standing up he reached for her hand and led her to his room. As they entered she smiled and shook her head; the white fluffy bedspread, the candles scattered about the room and the almost feminine feel was enough to raise her eyebrows, but she found herself too tired to comment.

“Do you mind if I change?” he asked. “I feel like putting on a robe myself.”

“Please do,” she replied wearily, thinking how comforting it would be to snuggle against the soft fabric.

He pulled down the covers, and picking up the smart tablet turned on the fire.

“Should I close the drapes?” he asked.

“Not unless you want to,” she murmured. “I love the sound of the rain and wind, and I’ve never seen it from up high like this. It’s quite amazing.”

As she crawled into the bed, pulling the covers over her, she watched him disappear into his bathroom, and staring at the downpour beating against the windows she sighed heavily. The nightmare was over, really and truly over. She was safe and warm, in the home of a man she barely knew, yet trusted and adored.

A few minutes later he reappeared and climbed in next to her, putting his arm around her as she curled against him, burrowing her head into his shoulder. As the rain spattered and the thunder pealed he couldn’t help but think back to the day he’d met her. It had been stormy then too.

It’s good sign that it’s raining now. It’s an omen. I’m so sorry you’ve been victimized. No one will ever hurt you again, not if I can help it.

Out in the kitchen, his cell phone, still sitting in his jacket pocket, rang for several seconds before switching over to voicemail.

“Hi Zander. It’s Abigail. Connor is coming over tonight. I’m so excited. Hope everything’s good with you. Call me. Bye.”

I
mmediately upon returning home Connor marched from his Porsche to the garden shed and disassembled the cage. It wasn’t difficult, he’d created it with just such an emergency in mind. If Gabriela did happen to find a cop outside his sphere of influence and drag him over to the house, she’d look like an idiot when she attempted to push open a wall that could not be moved.

The cage broke apart into several sections, and he carried two sections at a time through the driving rain into his garage. A floor-to-ceiling white pegboard upon which his tools were organized, stood six inches out from the wall, but it was impossible to see the narrow opening when the garage door was closed.

Cursing Gabriela as the rain poured over him, he slid the sections end-to-end behind the pegboard, the entire process taking him just under an hour. Once all the sections were secure he grabbed his nail gun and returned to the shed to secure the wall.

His next chore was emptying Gabriela ’s room of all her clothes, not that there were many. After carefully removing the GPS trackers he hurriedly stashed her belongings into a large trash bag and threw it in his car, deciding to drop it into a Goodwill bin next time he was out.

It was only after he’d vacuumed her floor, changed the sheets on her bed, and scrubbed her bathroom with bleach, that he felt he could breathe again.

Walking into his bedroom he was about to take a shower when his large TV screen caught his attention. Turning, he stared at the oversized, expensive, flat screen against the wall. His favorite scenes he’d burned to discs and were kept safely in his office, but he had hours of digital recordings on his home machine.

“Fuck you, you Brazilian Bitch. Fuck,” he exclaimed loudly.

His sense of survival was stronger than his need to watch his favorite scenes from his past. Picking up his remote control he turned on the set and brought up the command, Delete All. His thumb hovered over the button, and taking a deep, frustrated breath, he pressed it down. Any evidence of his perverted practices was now history.

Finally standing under a hot shower, though still enraged about having to eradicate so many decadent delights, he decided that he’d select a disc or two from his expansive collection and bring them home to watch at night. If anyone should coming busting in, it would take him two-seconds to smash them into pieces.

Connor allowed himself to relax, confident that had effectively covered his tracks. As he soaped, shampooed and shaved, he resolved to bring Slut Abby into his house immediately. Not only did he now have a void in his life, what better way to convince a nosy cop that Gabriela was crazy than to appear to be in a loving relationship with a young hottie?

Fuck, yeah. I’ll have that little tramp eating out of my hand in no time. She’ll say whatever I tell her to. I think she’s needs to get her ass over here right now.

Stepping from the shower he toweled off, dressed, trotted down the steps to his study and picked up his phone.

“Let’s see what you’ve been up to,” he grinned, dialing into her phone and checking the history.

She’d sent a couple of boring texts but made no calls. Satisfied he was up-to-date on her activity, he dialed her number. As expected she picked up immediately, excitement in her voice.

“Hello, Sir. If we disconnect I’ll call you right back. My cell isn’t very good at my house.”

“Hello, Abby. Why are you home? I thought you’d still be at work.”

“I thought it would be more convincing if I was sick two days in a row so I said I wasn’t feeling well and left early,” she giggled.

“Aren’t you a clever little smarty pants,” he remarked.

“I can’t hear you,” she complained. “It’s the connection here in my building.”

“This will be quick,” he stated firmly. “We have a change of plans this evening.”

“We do?”

The concern that he was about to cancel was immediately evident, and he savored the girl’s insecurity like a fine wine, swishing it around his mouth, tasting all she offered, purposely pausing, making her wait, keeping her in suspense.

“Sir? Are you still there? Shoot, maybe I lost you already.”

This is so delicious. Maybe I should hang up, really make her sweat.

“Hello? Can you hear me now?” she asked anxiously. “I’ve moved out on to my balcony.”

Closing his eyes, he drank in her breathlessness.

“Yes, I can hear you,” he whispered, almost lost in the intoxicating pull of her worry. “You need to come to my place tonight. Be here at 7:30 and plan to stay over. I’ll spank you, then you’ll cook for me, and then I’ll put you to bed.”

“Oh, thank you, Sir,” she replied, her excitement and relief almost tangible.

“A taxi will pick you up at 7:15.”

“Oh, thank you, Sir.”

“And Abby…”

“Yes, Sir?”

“You’ll arrive in a skirt and blouse, garter belt and stockings, and no panties or bra.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I’ll see you soon, Abby.”

“I can’t wait,” she breathed.

He ended the call then waited. If she called someone to share her exciting news his phone would alert him and he could listen in. Nothing, but her calls and texts weren’t the only way he could spy on her. A microphone installed in her phone allowed him to listen to everything going on around her, and pressing a series of numbers he made it live. He could hear her humming, the television set, then a door opening and closing, all routine and boring.

Turning it off his mind switched back to Gabriela and he cursed her for ditching her phone. He’d tried to access it with no success, and assumed she’d tossed separately it as an extra precaution.

Bitch! Bitch! Bitch!

Rising from his desk he strode out to the garage, unable to fathom the Brazilian Bitch putting her nephew at risk. Had she been so stupid as to run back her sister, thinking she’d be safe there and able to protect the brat? Surely not, but it was necessary to check.

Grabbing a clean kitchen towel on his way out, he opened the door of the Porsche and wiped down the interior. Connor couldn’t abide a mess of any kind, and finally satisfied he started up his powerful sports car and pulled out into the rain, heading across town.

Aveena. What kind of name is Aveena? Fuck, maybe I should just take Aveena and the brat somewhere, let them writhe in misery while the Brazilian Bitch watches. What sweet revenge that would be. That would take some careful planning and a whole lot of time, but it would teach that Brazilian Bitch she made a big mistake messing with me.

Switching on his XM Radio he tuned to a modern jazz station, turning up the volume. The streets were slick, the heavy cloud cover making the late afternoon murky and dark, but it didn’t stop him from zipping the sports car around the corners, sliding and straightening as he drove, thoroughly enjoying the thrill of the dangerous maneuvers.

Turning down the street he’d cruised many times, he found the house and pulled to the curb. One lamp was burning in the front window, but that was the only sign of life. Glancing at the neighbors he could see movement but Aveena’s home was eerily still.

Climbing out of his car he sauntered along the side of the house. He knew how to hunt, how to spy, how to snoop, and rule number one, act as if you belong; if you skulk, you’ll be noticed.

Walking confidently down the driveway, ignoring the rain, he turned into the backyard using the side of the house for shelter. It was private, with a high wooden fence and surrounding trees; he smiled, he was invisible. Staring across the groomed lawn the first thing he noticed was the absence of toys, though that could be explained by the weather.

Lifting his eyes to the windows he saw no lights, just the faint glow from the lamp in the front window. Were they out? Moving across to the garage, he was able to make his way to a small window, and pulling his pen flashlight from his inside jacket pocket, he switched it on and focused the beam inside; both cars present and accounted for.

If the cars are here, where are they?

Walking quickly to the windows at the back of the house, he shone his flashlight inside. The kitchen was spotless. No dirty dishes anywhere, no sign of cooking, no sign of life at all.

FUCK, FUCK, FUCK! No wonder the bitch thought she could take off. They’re gone!

Turning off his flashlight he stowed it back in his pocket and hurried down the path back to his car.