Bared by the Billionaire (20 page)

Kyra reached up to push back a lock of hair from his smoke-stained forehead. “Are you sure it was an extremist group? You don’t think…”

“Don’t think what? That it was some rogue cell inside the FBI?”

Kyra gasped. “Why would you say that?”

“Sam has been monitoring your meetings with Patterson. I know he tried to get you to plant evidence against me, threatened to prosecute you for Cabrera’s theft if you didn’t. It’s okay, baby. I understand. You were scared that you’d go to prison. I don’t blame you for taking the flash drive.”

“But I didn’t! Well, I did, but I destroyed it right away. I could never do anything to hurt you, Jake. I love you.”

He looked down at her, his eyes welling with tears. How could she say that, after he’d been so harsh with her tonight? His scenario, complete with a virtual room full of leering strangers, had been designed to turn her into a
thing.
He wanted to look back and remember her as just another sex toy he’d played with for a while, then discarded. But now he realized he’d only been trying to protect himself. If he pushed her away first, maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much when he had to face the fact that she was ready to betray him and then walk away.

Now she was saying she’d destroyed the flash drive. That she never intended to use it. He hadn’t trusted her and because of that, tonight he’d hurt her again. Not with the bomb blast, but with his vicious virtual game. He remembered her tear-filled eyes, her pleas to stop the cruel fantasy.

“I am a total shit,” he muttered under his breath. “I need to schedule a session with Matthews so he can kick some sense into me again.”

Kyra was talking a mile a minute, probably from the adrenaline rush that was finally hitting her too.

“Jake, I realized a long time ago that you couldn’t have had anything to do with stealing that money and framing me for it. In my spare time, I’ve been trying to find some clue to who was really behind it all. But I was getting nowhere. Believe it or not, tonight I decided I’d tell you everything and ask for your help. I even thought maybe I could wear some device of yours to my next meeting with Patterson, see if I could get him to admit that you were innocent and he’s been pressuring me to plant false evidence against you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth a long time ago, Jake,” she continued. “At first, Patterson had me convinced that you were the one who masterminded the theft from my old company. He told me you were having financial problems and you needed a big influx of cash. He even said the Feds were sure it was your idea to frame me for it. I came here determined to prove you were a criminal.”

Tears welled up in her eyes and her voice broke. “But once I got to know you, Jake, know the
real
you, I was sure you could never do anything like that, no matter what circumstances you were in. I’m so sorry. I’ve been deceiving you all this time.”

He kissed her gently. “I’ve known all along that you were here undercover, baby. And we already have all the proof we need.”

He saw her eyes widen at that and went on. “You know Sam’s job is to take care of me. When he got wind of trouble at ITC, he bugged the building and found out Cabrera was gone and so was every dime from the investors. He heard Patterson’s original offer to you. When you came to work here, he figured you couldn’t be trusted, so he insisted on having someone follow you every time you met with Patterson. He has a tape of the last conversation you two had. It may not be admissible in court, but it should be enough to convince the prosecuting attorney that anything Patterson says about you—or me—is a lie.

“By the way,” Jake went on, “as time went on, the rest of the men kept telling me that no matter what Sam heard on those tapes, they didn’t think you were capable of betraying me. You won their hearts, Kyra. And you won mine.”

He looked down into her eyes. “I love you, Kyra Thornton. I realized it tonight, right in the middle of that virtual world horror show I subjected you to. I was walking away, ready to pull the plug on the whole thing when the bomb went off.”

Harmon went on. “I thought you were planning to set me up, but even then, I couldn’t bear to see you so upset. Knowing how hurt you were by all of it, emotionally, hurt me even more. Besides, I hated seeing other men touch you, even in a fantasy. I know what you did with Cabrera in the past, but I hope you can learn to be happy with me as your only dom in the future.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He bragged to everyone about how you loved having more than one man at a time, how you got off on it. But I’m way too jealous to ever be able to accept that. That’s why I created all those virtual world scenarios. I’ve been trying to find a way to keep you satisfied without having to share you.”

* * *

Kyra stared up at him, speechless, then dissolved into tears. “I wish I’d had the nerve to be honest with you from the beginning,” she sobbed. “Jake, Cabrera was a liar. He smacked my bottom a couple of times when he found out I had always fantasized about it, just enough to make me wonder how it would feel to get a real spanking. But I was never his sub. You’re the only dom I’ve ever had. I was so scared that first day, pretending all of it turned me on. Then, as time went on, I discovered I really did love being mastered. I enjoyed those virtual scenes involving other people, Jake. But what I love most of all is when it’s just you and me. I don’t need or want anyone else mastering me in the real world.”

Now it was Jake’s turn to be speechless. The only dom she’d ever had? He thought back to that first day, when he walked away thinking she was such a good actress he could have sworn she’d never been spanked and dominated that way before. Jake tightened his arms around her. “I love hearing that I’m your first dom. And from here on out, I
will
be your only dom. It’s a good thing Cabrera is long gone—because if he was here, I’d throw his sorry ass right off this roof.”

She stopped crying then and looked up at him. “I’ve always wanted to ask you… how did you create the illusion that there were other people in the room? I could swear sometimes that I felt more than two hands touching me at the same time.”

He looked down at her and smiled. “Sorry,” he said. “Trade secrets. And I’m afraid all of them have just gone up in smoke. Sounds like I may not need to recreate them. From now on, you’ll have to get used to having only two hands on you at a time.”

“Well, I’m no tech genius, but if I were designing the perfect virtual world, that’s exactly how I’d have it—as long as those two hands were yours.”

She was about to go on, but Jake stopped her. “It’s time for you to quit talking now.” His voice was stern but his eyes twinkled.

“Yes, sir,” she whispered, just before he captured her lips in a kiss.

Chapter Sixteen

Kyra strolled along the tiny stretch of sand, warm waves curling gently around her ankles. It was early, the sun’s warmth still welcome on her skin. The gash on her leg had taken twenty stitches to close but it was healing nicely and the rest of the cuts and scratches were barely noticeable. Later she’d go for a swim. For now, she was content to wander aimlessly, stopping now and then to pick up a tiny conch or a pretty bit of sea glass that had washed up on shore during the night.

She thought back to the night of the explosion, a little over two months ago. Sam had commandeered a helicopter from one of his faceless friends in Special Forces and landed on the roof before firemen could battle their way up. He jumped out and ran to them, leaving Slade at the controls, ready to lift off again as soon as they were on board.

“Where are Marcus and Riley?” Harmon shouted over the whirr of the blades.

“Hospital,” Sam replied shortly. “They’ll be okay. Marcus took the worst hit. He’s already in surgery. Riley has a broken arm but he still managed to hoist Marcus over his shoulder and carry him down ten flights of stairs before the medics arrived. Slade and I were in the lobby when the bombs went off, getting ready to go out on the town for the night. We took one look at the damage and decided our best bet would be to come down from the roof to get to you.”

He looked at Harmon’s burns, at Kyra’s roughly bandaged leg, still oozing blood. “I bet Slade twenty bucks that you’d be up here just lying in the pool while we were working our asses off—as usual.”

“Damn straight,” Harmon replied. “After all, I am the boss.” He pushed Sam away when he tried to take Kyra, insisting on carrying her to the helicopter himself.

They had both stayed overnight at the hospital, but Harmon had refused to let the doctors treat his burns until he checked on Marcus and Riley. A few hours later, he came by Kyra’s room to give her a report, his arms swathed in bandages.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he blurted out, when her eyes filled with tears. “This is just to keep that sticky ointment they covered me with from getting all over everything I touch… including you.”

He gathered her into his arms. “The doctors said you’re fine. Your leg will heal but all those cuts from the glass are going to hurt like hell for a while. And thanks to that new scanner I invented, they were able to tell within a few minutes that you didn’t have any permanent brain damage from the concussion.”

“How are the boys?”

“Marcus is going to be all right. They operated on him as soon as he got here. He’s out of surgery and doing well. He had a ruptured spleen and a collapsed lung from the force of the blast, along with a laundry list of smaller injuries. The doctors said he’d have been much worse off if Riley hadn’t dragged him out of the building right away. Riley was knocked into a concrete wall by the first explosion. He was lucky—walked away with only a broken arm. The doctors set it last night and put it in a cast. He’s upstairs right now ribbing Marcus about being a baby—says he’s been through much worse over the years without even asking for an aspirin. It will be a long time before Riley lets Marcus forget he carried him down ten flights of stairs with one arm hanging useless at his side.”

Sam arrived the next morning to drive them home from the hospital. He and Slade rode in the front seat of the limo and Riley climbed in back to sit on the bench seat across from Harmon and Kyra. This time the partition stayed down, so they could all talk.

“Where are we going?” Kyra asked, when the limo turned south.

“Ever since Sam first came to me with his concerns about the threats from those extremist nuts, I’ve been working on plans to find a safer place for our lab and offices,” Harmon replied. “When I was away on that business trip a few months ago, I visited sites all over the world that the boys here had picked out as possibilities. But I wanted to keep all of our staff and for many of them, moving to some faraway place would have meant leaving their families and friends. And I love being near the ocean. So—I bought an island in the Keys.”

“You what?”

“I bought an island. I named it DreamQuest Key. It’s big enough to house a new lab and all our key people. It’s only accessible by boat—or helicopter. But it’s close to Marathon, where our main offices will be located. I bought one of those big box stores that went out of business, too. It’s right on the Overseas Highway, not far from Seven Mile Bridge. We’ve been remodeling it to hold our main office. There’s room to expand and even set up production facilities nearby for that brain scan device we’re going to manufacture. Monroe County actually welcomed us. I guess they’re happy to have a business moving in that will provide decent wages for once, instead of just another condo hotel that will only employ maids and pool boys.”

“It’s nice to hang out with a billionaire,” Slade remarked from the front seat. “Wait till you see the place. It’s amazing what can be accomplished in a short time when money is no object.”

The limo sped along the 26-mile–long stretch of road that separated the Keys from the hustle and bustle of South Florida. Kyra stared out the window at the flat expanse of the Everglades stretching for miles in all directions. The Keys were like another world, a little like moving to a foreign country. Harmon seemed to take it for granted that she’d move there with him and for the first time in her life, she was content to take one day at a time. No five-year plan, not even a to-do list for tomorrow.

All she had were the clothes on her back and those weren’t even hers. Everything she’d brought from her condo had been destroyed in the fire, so Carmen had dashed out to buy her an outfit to wear home from the hospital. It wasn’t Kyra’s usual conservative style, but it wasn’t one of her naughty sub costumes either. This was a sleeveless knit dress that skimmed her curves, soft turquoise like the slivers of ocean she glimpsed from time to time outside the car windows. It had a V neck and a skirt that flared out from the waist to twirl around her calves. She had on a pair of low-heeled leather sandals and dark sunglasses big enough to make her feel like a movie star.

Despite her aches and pains, Kyra felt like she was going on vacation. She reached for Harmon’s hand and he brought it to his lips.

“I’ll send Esther to pack up whatever you want from your condo and have it brought down here,” he said, as though he’d been reading her mind. “When you’re feeling up to it, we’ll go on a shopping spree—down to Key West or up to Bloomingdales at The Falls, whatever you want. Everything is much more casual down here. I may even start wearing shorts to the office.”

She laughed. “And give up your formal attire of jeans and t-shirt? My goodness. Maybe the doctors should have checked your brain with that scanner.”

They took another helicopter for the short hop from the Marathon airport west to the island. It was a bright green crescent, one of a string of smaller islands lying on the gulf side of the Keys, not connected to the mainland by the Overseas Highway. Still, it was larger than Kyra had imagined. It even had a tiny stretch of sandy beach on either end. Kyra was surprised to see all the construction going on in the center of the island next to the helipad.

“We’d already started building a small lab here, just for me, right after I bought the place,” Harmon said. “I’m spoiled. I like being able to walk to work. On the south end, we’re renovating half a dozen old Conch houses. Carmen and Enrique will be in one. He’s over the top about being able to walk out his front door, get on a boat and fish every day. Each of the men will have their own place too, and Esther is moving into the last. By the time school is out for the semester, there’ll be a room for her daughter added on.”