The Submissive's Last Word (The Power to Please #4) (28 page)

Epilogue

I jogged through the courtyard and up the gravel path. I
waved at one of the gardeners so he’d know there was no trouble or emergency. I
was simply running because I could and because I was looking for Gibson.

It was deep summer, and warm, but not bad for this time of
the year. The grounds of the estate were lush and green, a fragrant and
luxurious wonderland.

I crested a small rise and stopped to wipe the sweat that
had risen on my brow. Breathing hard, I searched across the lawn. There he was,
walking toward the little gazebo next to the copse of maple trees. He was
strolling with Lilly and Rose.

I took off again and soon caught up to them. They heard me
coming and turned.

“Goodness!” said Rose. “What’s wrong?”

I tried to catch my breath and flapped my hand in gestures
which I intended to mean everything was fine.

Lilly patted Rose’s hand. “It’s okay. I think she’d just
excited about something.”

I huffed and panted, nodded. Gibson’s hands were on his hips
and he slowly shook his head at me.

I managed to gather enough air to speak. “Stupid ... house
... too ... big.”

“Oh my,” said Rose. “Is that what she’s excited about?”

Gibson continued to give me his best
“the-things-I-have-to-put-up-with” look. “No. She’s complaining about the size
of the estate, and how far she had to run to get here. But what she should be
thinking about is doing more cardio so she doesn’t lose her wind so easily.”

“You’d better ... watch it,” I said.

He grinned and took my arm. “Here. I’ll help you over to the
gazebo and you can sit down.”

“I don’t need ... to sit down.”

“I think I do,” said Rose. “You’re right that this is a big
place and we’ve been walking a long time.”

Lilly linked arms with Rose and they headed to the gazebo,
Gibson and I trailing behind.

Lilly called back to me, “So, did something happen?”

“Yes. I got the letter telling me that I won the scholarship
I wanted, for the fall semester.”

Lilly yayed me, clapped her hands and Rose congratulated me.

Gibson smiled his approval and squeezed my arm. “I had no
doubt you’d get it.”

“Thanks,” I said to them all, happy with my success. “I’ll
turn down the money, of course, so they can give it to someone who needs it.
But it comes with that internship, where I get to work with one of the resident
artists a few hours a week. That’s what I wanted. I already know I can keep the
internship even if I turn down the money.”

Lilly asked me a few questions, like if I knew the artist
I’d be working with (I didn’t) and how many other students applied for the
scholarship/internship (loads). She and Rose settled onto a comfortable bench
in the gazebo.

We chatted a few more minutes, then Gibson and I left them
there together, Rose looking peaceful and calm, relaxed.

“See you back inside later,” she called to us as we strolled
away down the gravel path.

I waved, as did Gibson, then we went on our way.

“Rose looks great,” I said.

“You and Lilly have been a good team. She’s been gone from
the nursing home for,” he checked his watch, “three hours now and she hasn’t
gotten antsy yet.”

“That’s wonderful. Maybe she’ll last through dinner this
time.”

“If not, then next time perhaps. No hurry.”

I agreed. No hurry. There was time to let Rose take it at
her own pace. She’d already done much to be proud of.

We took the path that meandered down by the lake.

“Did I tell you that Isabel phoned me yesterday afternoon?”
he asked. “She demanded that you come back to work for her, and that if you
won’t, I have to hire two people to replace you, because the one she hired last
winter isn’t enough.”

I laughed. “What a load. You didn’t fall for it did you?”

“I told her you insist on continuing to work at that health
food store, so I okayed her to hire another assistant.”

I laughed again. “You got played. She’s so good. She called
me the other day and didn’t once try to hire me back.”

“I’d better keep an eye on her. She may be after my job,” he
said with a wry expression.

“You’d better hope not.”

The path turned and led us around the edge of the shoreline.
I stuck my arm out and enjoyed the feel of the reeds tickling my hand as I
passed.

The sun’s rays bounced off the water, forming into lines of
brilliance across the surface of the lake. I squinted to see across it and saw
a boat bobbing out near the middle. I knew it could only be Ron and Xavier in
that boat, fishing.

I waved my arms to get their attention. Ron saw me first,
then they both looked up and waved. Ron called out a loud and lengthy
“hellooooo” that easily traveled across the distance between us.

Gibson gave a short wave, and we walked on.

When I’d been wagging my hands around in the air, the sun
had glinted off the ring on my finger, distracting me. I held out my hand and
admired it as we ambled along.

“You do like it,” he said, but with something of a question
in his voice.

“Of course I do! What’s not to like? Look at it.” I shifted
the diamond in the light, showing it off to best advantage, not that it needed
any advantages. It was a gorgeous stone. And though it was large, it wasn’t
overly so. It suited my hand and my disposition. He couldn’t have chosen
better.

“I’m glad. I’m more glad that you said yes, naturally.”

I took his hand and swung it back and forth between us as we
walked. “Like you thought I’d say no.”

“I’ve learned not to predict what you might or might not
do.”

“Okay, but I don’t know a woman alive who’d turn down a
handsome, sexy bajillionaire who’s on bended knee proposing to her. There is
one thing, though.”

“What’s that?”

“We’re going to have to think of a story to tell our
grandkids when they ask how we met. I can’t imagine myself saying, ‘Well,
little Johnny, we were in a bar, and your grandpa seduced me in a hallway the
first time we laid on eyes on each other.’”

We laughed.

We changed paths, turning and heading away from the lake, up
a rise toward the orchards.

Gibson’s demeanor changed with the terrain. “There was a
time when I didn’t think I’d be having grandchildren.”

“I hate to break it to you, but even if we have ten kids,
there’s no guarantee you’ll get grandchildren out of them.”

“Ten children? You’re not serious.”

“Oh I don’t know. We’ve got the money to hire all the
nannies we want. They can do all the hard parts, like the feeding and general
care. We can just hang out with the kiddies a few hours a day if we feel like
it. When they get irritating, we’ll send them back to dear Nanny.” I shot him a
sideways glance, to see if he was buying it.

He wasn’t. “If you’re going to put it like that, I wouldn’t
mind making ten of them. You might mind birthing them, though.”

“Typical man. All the pleasure, none of the pain.”

“In more ways than one.”

I grinned. Then I caught the sound of rumbling off in the
distance, the crunch of wheels crushing gravel.

I looked ahead, tried to see around the coming corner, but
the line of sight was blocked by a grove of small trees. The sound grew louder.

“Oh no,” I said, realizing what it was. I grabbed Gibson’s
arm and jumped off the path, pulling him along with me. We put a good six,
seven feet between us and the edge of the gravel line.

It was none too soon, as a cart careened around the turn in
the path and headed straight where we’d been walking.

Paulina perched on the front seat, jostling up and down,
thrown side to side with the gyrations of the cart. She was totally cool, not
the least worried about being pitched to the ground. One lace-gloved hand
gripped the reins and the other waved a crop in the air.

She wore her usual summer, flowing style of dress, and a
wide-brimmed ladies hat. Her smile was easy, her demeanor relaxed.

On the seat beside her, of all people, sat Elaine Hoyte.
Like Paulina, Elaine wore a flowing dress and a ladies hat. She also wore a
pair of lacy gloves to protect her hands. But that’s where the similarities
ended.

Unlike Paulina, Elaine clutched the side of the bench seat
as if her life depended on it, and it probably did. It looked frighteningly
precarious, being tossed around as she was, on a wooden bench with no seat
belts and only a low back, scant little to hold onto.

But this was nothing to what was pulling the cart at
breakneck speed: Toy 2.

Toy 1 had either been dismissed or moved on to a different
domme-ly highness, I didn’t know which. Toy 2 was his replacement. Everyone
else just called him Toy, as did I, to his face. But to myself, he was Toy 2. I
felt like it was only right to give Paulina’s boys an individual identity, even
if they, themselves, didn’t care about it.

Toy 2 was a muscle-bound body-builder like Toy 1, but he was
even bigger, stronger and faster. He adored playing pony and I couldn’t count
how often I saw him and Paulina tearing across the grounds. The man could
seriously move. You had to stay alert when they were out for a drive. Or a
pull, as the case may have been.

This was the first time I’d seen Elaine in the cart. Her
added weight didn’t appear to be slowing down Toy 2. He smiled even as he
sucked air like a car wash vacuum. His vast arms pumped and his knees rose
swift and high. A helluva pace. One seriously proud pony.

Elaine laughed and called out as they shot past us. “Hey
there honeys! Coming through! Woohoo!”

Paulina gave a small, dignified nod.

And then they were gone, careening and lurching down the
slope, picking up speed as they traveled downhill.

We watched them go.

“My God,” I said. “The woman is a terror.”

“I assume you mean Paulina,” Gibson said in his driest tone.

“It’s rolling super fast down that hill. I hope Toy can stay
in front of the cart.”

“Between the threat of those wheels and Paulina’s crop, he’s
got more than enough incentive to succeed.”

We stepped back onto the path and continued on our way.

“Some things are going to have to change around here when we
have a kid,” I said.

“We’ll put up speed limit signs.”

“Not a bad idea for right now. But what I meant was,
Paulina’s going to have to get an actual, real, honest-to-God pony to pull her
cart. Imagine what they’d think at school if our kid told them about getting
rides from Nana Paulina’s boytoy pony.”

He barked out a laugh. “I hadn’t thought about that. You’re
right. And you’re going to have to —”

“Not it.”

“What?”

“You were going to say that I’ll have to tell Paulina she
has to switch Toy Pony for a real one. But I beat you to it and called not it.”

“I wasn’t aware of the ‘not it’ dodge.”

“Now you know. Too late to save you, though.”

I stopped in the path, struck by a sudden thought. “Hey, I
just thought of something about the Hoyte/Martin/Toy five-some.” I turned and
looked back the way we’d come. “It’s not actually a five-some.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s a three-some and a pair of buddies. Don’t look at me
like that. Seriously. Think about it. Paulina, Elaine and Toy are the
threesome, doing who knows what together when they’re alone, but we can be
certain it’s not platonic. Ron and Xavier, meanwhile, are just buddies who hang
out together while their women do whatever it is they do. Like right now, Ron
and Xavier are fishing. Other times, I bet they watch ball games, or do other
man stuff. They aren’t involved in the sexy goings-on of the threesome.”

“And,” I continued, excited with my idea, “every once in a
while, they break up into two threesomes, like the night we saw Patsy at
Private Residence. We’ve seen them with other subs since then. The new subs go
with Ron and Xavier, and they stay separate from the P-E-T threesome. I think
that’s it. I’ve figured it out.”

“You seem convinced of it,” Gibson said.

“Are you saying I’m wrong?”

“I’m not saying anything.”

“Ugh! You’re acting like I’m wrong.”

He shrugged, set off walking again at a brisk pace.

I chased after him. “Come on. At least tell me if I’m on the
right track. A hint. Anything.”

“It’s none of my business.”

“Quit saying that. It’s driving me crazy. Come on. Tell me.”

“No.”

“Tell me or I’m going to give in to her harassment and let
Paulina plan our wedding.”

He stopped dead in the path. “I don’t respond well to
threats. Gives me a serious urge to spank the bottom of anyone who tries it.”

“Oh, I see. What if the threats come from an ugly, warty old
man?”

“You’re pushing your luck.”

“Fine. If you won’t cave in to a threat, how about a bribe?”
I raised my eyebrows. “See anything you’d like?”

He eyed me up and down and my body came to life the way it
always did when he looked at me that way. “I can’t quit thinking about the
spanking now.”

Neither could I. “Okay then. We’ll make a deal.”

“I like the way this is sounding.”

“Good. We’ll race to the wildflower grotto in the north
forest. If I win, you tell me how the five-some works. If you win, you get to
spank me, right there on the spot.”

“It pains me to say this, but it’s not much of a challenge.
You just showed how little wind you have. You can’t win.”

“That’s where the deal part comes in. The race won’t start
until we’re at the edge of the forest. No one is ever around there. You’ll give
me a thirty-second head start.”

“That’s not much. It won’t do you any good.”

I took his arm and pulled him down the path toward the
forest. “Just listen. You’ll give me a thirty-second head start. When you catch
up to me, which we know you will in no time, you’ll have the option of running
on to the grotto, or giving me the option to pay a forfeit.”