Sir's Redemption (Doms of Decadence Book 8) Page 9

  “I think I’ve just come to expect you’ll turn up at some point. I’m beginning to think you’re spying on me.”

  It was close to the truth. He smiled.

  She gazed at him suspiciously.

  “What is it?”

  “You’re smiling. You never smile.”

  “I smile.”

  “Not like this. When you smile, babies cry. This smile. This smile looks like you’re amused. Why are you amused? Is there something on my face?”

  She rubbed at her clear, creamy skin. He frowned at the idea he would be so crass as to laugh at her for having something on her face. What kind of man did she take him for?

  “Of course, there’s nothing on your face. You look perfect, as always.”

  “Perfect? Me?” She gaped at him. Then looked down at herself. “I’m a mess. I had to rush over from my other job, because my boss’s son landed all this paperwork on me at the last minute, and I was scrambling to get it done. I haven’t checked my hair, I haven’t eaten dinner. But even on a good day I’d hardly be considered perfect.”

  He didn’t agree. But he zeroed in on something she’d said.

  “You didn’t eat dinner?” He ran his gaze over her, noting with satisfaction and a little pride how she stood straighter under his perusal. She had backbone. Even if she was looking a bit wan at the moment, nothing would hold her down for long. “You’re not on some diet to lose weight, are you?”

  “I’m pretty certain that’s none of your business.”

  “It is if someone I employ is about to faint from hunger.”

  “Your concern is . . . touching.” She sounded skeptical. “But I’m fine. One skipped meal won’t hurt me.”

  “If you were mine you’d be in a whole world of trouble right now.” Her eyes flared open then quickly dropped to the floor.

  Hmm, that was interesting.

  “I’m surprised your boyfriend allows such a thing.” He’d said it deliberately, of course. And sure enough, her head shot up, her face filled with self-righteous anger.

  “Allow? He doesn’t allow or disallow anything.” Something crossed her face, almost too quickly for him to see it. But he had a feeling she was lying. Was her boyfriend a Dom? Or was James reading too much into her reactions?

  “And I’m not on a diet, anyway. Not that it has anything to do with you.” She gave him an exasperated look. “If I faint then that’s my business, not yours.”

  “If you fall and hit your head, then it will definitely be my business.”

  “Do you take this much interest in all your employees?”

  “No,” he said honestly.

  Her eyes widened, and she glanced nervously at the door, looking for an escape route. The thought amused him. He realized he liked keeping her off-balance. Just a little, he didn’t truly want to frighten her.

  She’s not a sub. But she could be. He could train her—he’d take great delight in training her. And then what? He’d set her free when he got bored with her? When things started to get too serious? Like he did with all the others?

  “So, what makes me special?” She gave him a suspicious look.

  Shit. What was he doing? He needed to keep away from her. She belonged to someone else.

  “I just think your boyfriend should take better care of you, that’s all. It’s obvious to me you’re exhausted. You look like hell. You’re not eating properly and before you read anything into that, the only reason I care is because I don’t want you to do a substandard job while you’re here. I pay your wages, after all and I want you in top shape to perform your job. If you can’t do that while working another job, then you shouldn’t be working two jobs.”

  That arrogant ass was the boss from hell.

  She was still fuming over what he’d said to her as she made her way out to her car later that night. So, she was a bit tired, that didn’t mean she couldn’t do her job. How dare he insinuate otherwise? If there was one thing she prided herself on it was her work ethic. Even if she’d had to stay all night she would have gotten the job done properly and well.

  Just when she’d been starting to think he might not be as bad as she first thought he was, he went and proved that she was wrong. What an asshole.

  She didn’t know what his problem was. Had there been any complaints about her work? She was always on time. She did what was asked of her without complaint . . . well, without much complaint. She’d complained plenty when he’d ordered her in that arrogant way of his to clean his office each night. She didn’t know why. He barely used it. And why did he need her to clean it? Why not one of the others? Elsa said she used to go in once a week to clean, but he’d told her Kinley would be cleaning it from now on.

  She didn’t like the look Elsa had given her when she’d said that. As though wondering what she’d done to get special treatment from the boss.

  What? Like she’d give him a blow job for the privilege of cleaning his office? While he watched over her the way a hawk might watch a mouse? Not hungry enough to pounce, but the threat was always there.

  She reached her car and took a deep breath. Time to ease up on the dramatics. Sure, the other staff on the cleaning team were now treating her a bit coldly. The initial friendliness had been replaced with suspicion. Did they really think she wanted to clean his office? To be near him night after night? Because she didn’t. She wished she’d never met him. He was annoying, rude, inconsiderate . . . and he said you were perfect.

  He just did it to keep her on her toes. To keep her guessing, wondering what his reasons were. At first, she thought it was a coincidence he kept turning up whenever she was cleaning his space. So, she’d shifted the times around in an effort to avoid him. And every time he still turned up.

  How did he do that? Was he watching her? Why? She trembled and reached into her bag for her keys. Now she wished she’d accepted one of the security guard’s offer to walk her to her car. The dark seemed a little menacing somehow.

  The first few times James turned up, she’d been a bit creeped out, on edge. But as time went by, she’d become more at ease with him. Not comfortable, but she’d just stopped jumping every time he appeared. She’d kind of figured he was lonely and wanted some company.

  Jesus, Kinley, the man is loaded. And gorgeous. Lonely? He probably had a different woman in his bed each night and more friends than she had wrinkles. He wasn’t some lonely billionaire, sitting alone in his mansion waiting for the poor cleaning lady to come along and keep him company with her wit and humor.

  She snorted to herself. Sounded like the start of cheesy chick flick. She always did have a good imagination. No, he had other reasons for turning up each night. Probably got a thrill out of making her nervous. And he did make her nervous, for reasons she didn’t really want to examine too closely.

  A jerk. The man was a jerk. And she would do well to remember that. If she ever saw him again. After he’d left so abruptly tonight she had a feeling she wouldn’t. And that was not sadness she felt. Because the less time she spent in his company, the better. Maybe he’d stop insisting she clean his office, and she could go back to keeping her head down and just getting the job done.

  She climbed into her car and immediately locked the doors. Sloan had insisted she always do that at night, no matter where she was.

  Sloan. Her stomach clenched tightly.

  For an hour she’d forgotten about him. Maybe she was getting over him. She tried to laugh, and it came out more like a sob. She sat forward, leaning her forehead against the steering wheel. Like she could ever forget him. There was a hole inside her now without him. She missed his laughter, the way the skin around his eyes crinkled when he smiled. How he’d pull her into his arms and surround her in his warmth and safety. He gave the best hugs.

  She missed the way he took care of her, the little things he would do. Like checking the tire pressure or oil in her car. Or the way he’d always make certain he walked on the outside of the sidewalk, because she was safer on the inside. Or the way he
held his hand on the small of her back, a small act of possession.

  Damn, she missed that now. Missed belonging to him. Missed having him belong to her. She wanted to cook him his favorite dinner and watch the way his face lit up in appreciation. She wanted to curl up next to him on the couch, rest her head on his lap, kneel in front of him. Hell, she even missed listening to him yell at the television during sports games.

  She pulled out her phone. Still nothing. Disappointment threatened to overwhelm her as tears dripped down her face.

  He had every right to be angry at her. She knew when she chose to keep secrets that she risked losing him. But while she knew she’d messed up, she had at least thought he might talk things out with her. Listen to her reasons. Instead, he’d completely shut her out.

  Don’t try to contact me. I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk.

  Was he ever going to talk to her again? Would he ever call her? She wished she had someone she could talk to about this, but she didn’t have any real friends in the city. Most of the friends she’d made were through Sloan.

  She had a couple of friends back home who’d listen. But she couldn’t tell them about the BDSM stuff. They wouldn’t understand. Worse yet, they might tell her mother. Who definitely would not understand.

  So, she’d kept everything to herself. And it felt like it was about to bubble over, ready to spill out in a giant mess. Maybe James was right. She needed to get herself together before it started to affect her work. She was finding it harder and harder to find any motivation to get out of bed in the morning. And she felt even more tired than she did when she’d gone to bed the night before. She couldn’t sleep. Each time she ate she felt nauseous.

  “I’m a mess.”

  Tears dripped down her face, and she brushed them away angrily. It was time to get herself back under control. So, Sloan didn’t want to talk to her. So, he’d cut her out of his life and therefore from the club and the people there. So, she felt lonelier than she ever had in her life. She could make new friends. She could move on, make a new life for herself

  “Get a grip, Kinley. You were probably becoming too dependent on him anyway. He never promised you anything. You were dating, but it wasn’t really going anywhere. Maybe this is for the best.” Even though her heart was screaming no.

  It took her two times to get the key in the ignition, her eyes were too blurry to see much. This parking lot was almost as well-lit as the one at Club Decadence. She guessed James March believed in looking after his people too. He certainly paid well, and she got excellent benefits. Too bad he was a prick.

  “Kinley, you have got to find better men to hang around with. Or, better yet, get a cat. Yeah. A cat would be good. I could become that crazy cat lady who thinks her cats are her children.”

  Because at the rate she was going, she wouldn’t have any children of her own.

  “Shit. Shit.” She swiped at her cheeks again. She wasn’t going to be able to drive until she could see, and to do that she had to stop the damn crying.

  “Enough. It’s over. Get over it. Move on. Stop being a baby.”

  A sob ripped its way through her.

  Yeah, the tough love thing so wasn’t working. She wanted Sloan. Wanted him desperately. Just one more hug. One more kiss.

  Finally, she managed to get herself under some semblance of control, enough that she thought she could manage the drive home. If she stayed here one of the security guards might think to check up on her, and that was something she didn’t need.

  She turned the key.

  Clunk.

  Um, no. It wasn’t supposed to make a clunk noise. She turned it again.

  Clunk.

  “Jesus, seriously?” She looked up at the sky. “Are you messing with me for fun? Have I done something in another life you’re punishing me for?”

  She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Her mother would have a fit if she could hear her. A faithful member of the church, she would not think it amusing to hear Kinley speak to the big guy upstairs so flippantly.

  Was she being punished? She could think of no other reason for the bad stuff that kept happening to her. She thought about her options. She could call roadside assistance, but she didn’t have towing on her insurance plan, and that was going to cost her money she didn’t have.

  You could call Sloan. Right, because he was really going to want to come out in the dark and cold to help her. Nope, she couldn’t do that.

  She could get out and open the hood, take a look around. She laughed, but even to her ears it sounded half-hysterical. What the heck did she know about fixing a car? Absolutely nothing. So that wasn’t going to help.

  What was left? She could sit here and cry. Yep, that sounded like the best option right now.

  Leaning her head against the steering wheel, she started to sob. Not just over the car, which her daddy had bought her back when she’d graduated high school. It had served her faithfully all these years. Not just over Sloan and the mess she’d made of everything. She was crying because she was exhausted and lonely, and she wished there was just one person she could call to help her. Her family lived hours away. All the friends she’d made here were connected to the club and Sloan.

  What had she done to end up with no one? Was this really her life? Crying in a broken-down car?

  A sudden knock on the door made her scream, and she shied back with a screech. She glared up at James, who was looking at her through the window.

  They stared at each other for a long moment. Finally, he reached for the door and found it locked. She could almost swear she heard him sigh. He circled his finger, a clear indication for her to roll down her window.

  She could almost feel the demand pouring from him. And, still, she shook her head.

  He folded his arms across his chest and just stood there.

  Fantastic. She was stuck there. She couldn’t drive off because her car wouldn’t start, and she couldn’t open the door or roll down the window because then he won.

  Like you’re winning now? She shivered a little. How long did she think she was going to sit there in the dark and no warmth in her car? Yeah. She was totally the winner in this. With a sigh, she reached over and rolled down her window.

  “Problem?”

  She smiled brightly. “Not at all. I just like to sit in my car sometimes. Ponder life. It’s peaceful, you know. At least until someone comes along and knocks on the window and frightens the life out of me. You’re giving me gray hairs, you know?”

  “Somehow, I think it’s the other way around,” he said dryly. “Not very safe, sitting in your car in the dark.”

  “I’m beginning to see that,” she replied sweetly. “You never know what sort of degenerate might approach you.”

  “Degenerate, am I? It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever been called.”

  “I’ll bet,” she replied.

  “But I can’t let you sit out here all night. Makes security nervous.”

  “They called you?”

  “Yep.”

  “Over me sitting in my car for five minutes?” she asked skeptically.

  “This is my building.”

  That might have sounded plausible, except she knew he had several offices across the globe. No way security was alerting him about every little thing going on at all the buildings he owned.

  “And you’ve been here thirty minutes, not five.”

  Crap.

  “Sorry to disturb your night, if you want to continue on I can leave.”

  She needed to get rid of him, so she could figure out where the closest bus stop was. She hoped like hell she didn’t have to walk far. If she could have afforded a taxi she would have called one.

  “Turn the car on.”

  “Pardon?”

  She glanced up at him. What was he even doing here? Why didn’t he just send one of the guards out? Then she could have asked them how to find a bus stop. No way she was asking him.

  It would be an admission that she didn’t hav
e her life together. That she wasn’t strong enough or smart enough.

  Why can’t you be more like your sister, Kinley? She’s so smart and beautiful. Poor Kinley. You’re nothing like Char, are you?

  Kinley banished the thoughts from her head. Enough with the self-pity. She’d had years to come to terms with the fact she had to live in Char’s shadow. But she didn’t need to be reminded right now that Char had inherited their mother’s good looks and their dad’s brains. While Kinley . . . well, best not to go there, she was already feeling depressed enough.

  “You heard me.” There was a warning note in his voice she couldn’t ignore.

  She turned the key once more.

  Clunk.

  The universal noise for “your car is fucked.”

  “That doesn’t sound like you’re driving anywhere tonight,” he told her. “Have you called for roadside assistance?”

  “No, I haven’t.” Be polite, Kinley.

  “Your boyfriend?”

  She wasn’t even certain she had a boyfriend any longer so that was the last thing she was going to do.

  “He’s busy tonight.”

  “That so? If you were mine and you broke down and didn’t call me—” He broke off what he’d been about to say. Exactly what would he do if she were his? And why was she so curious to find out? “Of course, if were you mine you wouldn’t be driving on your own this late at night.”

  “I wouldn’t?”

  “Certainly not. It’s far too dangerous.”

  Dangerous? Was this guy for real?

  She drummed her fingers against the steering wheel. “I’m beginning to understand why you’re single,” she muttered. She knew he was arrogant and bossy, but the man was kind of crazy as well.

  “Pardon?” he asked in a low voice.

  A dictator who was really good at intimidation.

  She swallowed heavily.

  “If you’re not going to call your boyfriend or roadside assistance then why were you just sitting here? Were you hoping it would magically fix itself?”

  Pretty much.

  “Get out. I’ll give you a ride home. You can get someone to tow it tomorrow.”