Accidental Slave (8 page)

“No, you’re not. Because you’re forgetting about the slave dossier that was prepared and submitted to House of Usher prior to the auction. It’s a private club and the auctions are by invitation only. Whoever did this, it was premeditated and planned out well in advance. You’re dealing with a lunatic, Elizabeth. What he did was unconscionable. At the very least, you should fire him.”

“Oh, if he did this, you can bet I will.”

“Well, he needs to know what’s going on, then. Or, if you want to keep it out of the office, press criminal charges. The guy’s a total sleaze.”

Elizabeth could no longer hold her tongue. “You know, I can’t help but wonder about casting stones while in your glass house. I mean, you’re the guy who
bid
on me. Who actually paid money, I presume you paid money, for a…a slave girl, no, let’s be blunt here, a
prostitute
.

What does that make you?”

Cole raised his eyebrows, his expression amused. “Someone who enjoys the erotic exchange of power. I make no apology for that. The club offers a service of allowing people of like mind to hook up for consensual play. It’s just a game, of course, though it can be a very intense one.

I’d love to have a discussion about erotic submission with you, if you’re open to it, that is.” He tilted his head as he peered at her. She felt he was taking her measure, gauging her interest.

Elizabeth knew something about BDSM, though not through personal experience. She had nothing against it per se—to each his own. But the idea of submitting to a man went against her grain. She was a strong, independent woman. No man would tell her what to do, that was for sure. She doubted there was a guy out there who would dare to try.

He might
.
And I might let him.
The thought leaped into her brain and she glanced at him, glad he couldn’t see inside her head.

Cole stood, looking at his watch. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to make two important phone calls connected with my business. I shouldn’t be long. Why don’t you shower and pick something to wear? Come down to my study when you’re done, okay? We’ll figure out where to go from here.”

He left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. Elizabeth knew she had been rather rude. It was none of her business what this man did or didn’t do in his spare time, or any time for that matter. Still, she didn’t get it. He seemed like such a nice guy. Yet the woman who was supposed to be her in those photos had been tightly bound in rope and chains, the shadow of a man with a long, cruel-looking whip just behind her.

Though her mind rebelled at the images, she couldn’t help admit a certain perverse curiosity.

What would it be like to be bound, naked and exposed for a man like Cole? A shiver of desire zinged along her nerve endings.

Her mind roiling, she moved toward the wardrobe and opened it. Inside were dresses, skirts and blouses, as well as pants and shorts neatly folded on shelves beside the hanging clothes. It was strange to think the woman who had owned them and worn them was no longer alive. She wasn’t crazy about the idea of wearing a dead woman’s clothing, but what choice did she have?

She selected a pale yellow brushed cotton blouse and a pair of jeans that looked like they would fit. She would have to wear her old underwear, and she had no bra, but at least she would definitely feel more comfortable going home in a cab in these clothing than in her low-cut evening gown. There were even a few pairs of shoes to choose from. She selected a pair of white leather sandals. They looked a little big, but she would only need them to get home in.

Clothes in her arms, Elizabeth went into the bathroom and set them on the counter. In the shower, she found shampoo, soap, shaving cream, face wash and even a new razor. Clearly, the man was used to entertaining overnight guests.

She turned on the water and climbed in. The hot spray felt wonderful and gratefully she turned her face up toward it. Her headache was nearly gone. She was still vastly puzzled and furious with Gary, but at the same time curiously excited by the situation in which she found herself. Cole was the first man since…well, perhaps ever, who had grabbed her attention and held it like a vise from the moment she’d set eyes on him.

Even as confused and sick as she was when she first awoke, she couldn’t deny the immediate, intense attraction. It wasn’t just his good looks, his deep, sexy voice or those compelling eyes. No, there was something else. Something as yet unexplored, unspoken, untapped, within herself that had responded on a gut level to something in him.

She pondered this whole BDSM thing. If a guy like Cole was into it…. Maybe her ideas of S&M, vague images of women in Cat Woman suits wielding bullwhips, and men in black leather vests, dark glasses and boots with handcuffs dangling from their belts, were the stuff of porn magazines and had little to do with whatever it was Cole was into.

The shower, on top of the coffee and cake, did wonders in clearing the last of the fog from Elizabeth’s mind. First and foremost she wanted to get back to her apartment, check her phone messages and confront Gary about what the hell had gone down the night before.

Thank God no one else at the office had been witness to her allowing herself to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. How he expected to keep his job, after what he’d pulled, was beyond her.

Dressed, her wet hair brushed back, shoes in hand and purse, shawl and gown over her arm, she headed down the hall in search of her host. The study door was ajar. She tapped against it and Cole, who was sitting at a massive desk in the corner, swiveled toward her and stood.

“Perfect timing. I just finished my calls.”

Elizabeth entered the room and stopped just inside.

Cole advanced toward her. “You’re looking much better. Are you feeling better?”

“Yes, thanks. Almost like myself again.” There was a pause. If only they’d met under less bizarre circumstances… “Listen, would you give me that pamphlet, that dossier as you called it. I don’t need something like that floating around.”

“Sure. Plus you’ll want it for evidence, if it comes to that. Let me just get it. I won’t be a second.” As she waited, she scanned the room. Three of the walls were lined with books, many of them bound in fine leather and tooled with gold lettering. Another gorgeous Oriental carpet graced the middle of the hardwood floor. This place must cost a fortune, she thought. She’d been

“bought” by a millionaire. The idea almost made her giggle, if the circumstances weren’t so upsetting.

He returned and held the pamphlet out to her. She took it, noticing his large hands and strong forearms. He was dressed casually in a short-sleeved white knit shirt and blue jeans. He looked good, very good. She wondered how old he was, pegged him at about thirty-five and then told her mind to shut up and say her goodbyes.

She held out her hand. “I don’t know how to thank you for, uh, rescuing me.”

He took her hand in his, holding it perhaps a few seconds too long. “Are you sure I can’t give you a lift? My car’s just down in the garage below the building. It would be my pleasure.”

“No, really, that’s okay. I’ve put you out enough as it is.”

“I’ll see you down, then. The doorman will get you a cab.”

She nodded, since she didn’t even know where his front door was. He walked her back down the hall to a small stairway that led to a very large living room, as elegantly appointed as the rest of the house. One entire wall was of glass, offering a breathtaking view of the downtown skyline. Did he own this place or rent? And had he earned the money or inherited it? None of her business, she told herself firmly.

He insisted on accompanying her all the way down to the street. “Please, keep the clothing.

I’ve meant to donate it for ages.” He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and extracted a card, which he handed to her. “This has my phone numbers and email address on it. I know we met under very strange circumstances, but I’d love to see you again.”

She looked up into his handsome face. “I’d like that.” She felt suddenly shy. A cab pulled over sharply to the curb, startling her. Cole opened the back passenger door for her. He grinned that infectious lopsided grin. “Let me know what happens with that Dobbins ass, okay?”

“I will, yes. And thank you again.”

She climbed into the cab and he shut the door and stepped back. The cabbie pulled into the traffic. “Where to, lady?”

Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief as she leaned against the door of her apartment, home at last.
My whole place could fit into his living room
, she thought. Not that she particularly wanted a penthouse on Central Park East. She was happy with her small but very comfortable SoHo apartment.

She noticed the phone light blinking and moved toward it, pressing the button. “Hi Elizabeth? It’s Gary. Sorry to bother you at home. Just checking in. You were, uh, kind of out there last night.” A dry laugh followed. “I mean, what you do in your private life is your own business, I guess. Uh…I just wanted to make sure you’re okay and all that. Hope I’m not overstepping. I’m actually at the office right now, or you can call me on my cell. Just making sure my boss is okay.” He left the number. “Bye.”

“What the hell…?” Elizabeth stared the phone, stupefied. “What I do in my private life…

What is that bastard talking about?” She grabbed the phone and punched in his cell number. She hung up before it connected. Whatever was going on, she would face him directly. And she’d do it now.

Quickly she dressed in her own clothing. She transferred the contents of her evening bag into her regular purse, including the slave auction pamphlet and headed back out the door.

Gary was in his office. He looked up from his desk as she leaned in. “Hi boss. Did you get my message? I was kind of worried about you. I should have insisted on seeing you home but you were adamant about going off with that guy.”

“What? What the hell are you talking about? You’ve got some serious explaining to do.”

Elizabeth entered the room and sat in one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Go ahead. I’m waiting. What the hell did you pull last night and how did you think you were going to get away with it?”

“
Me
?” His tone was outraged. He raised his eyebrows and left his mouth hanging open in surprise. “What did
I
pull? You’re the one who dragged me to that sex club. I have to say, I had no idea you were into leather and whips and all that kinky stuff. You never struck me as the type.” He gave a brief conspiratorial grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “But then, we never really know the person behind the mask, do we?”

“I dragged
you
…what? Cut the crap. You know it was the other way around. I don’t remember much of the night, but I do remember you suggesting we go on to another club. You took me there. I remember that much. And when I woke up in some strange man’s house—”

He interrupted. “Elizabeth,
please
. I don’t need the details of who you went home with. I have to admit, I was pretty freaked out by your behavior last night, but as I say, it’s your business.”

Elizabeth felt her blood pressure soaring. “
My
behavior! You slipped me drugs! In my wine.

Date rape drugs. Then you took me to that club and sold me at an auction.”

“I did
what
? Sold you? Are you crazy? Date rape drugs? You have to be kidding. How dare you accuse me of such a thing?”

Elizabeth found herself speechless—and confused. The scenario had made perfect sense when she’d discussed it with Cole. Though it was true she didn’t remember anything herself. Yet Cole had described a man who looked like Gary. And Gary had
admitted
he’d been with her at that club.

“Wait a minute. There were witnesses, you bastard. Witnesses to you
selling
me to the highest bidder in some sex slave auction. Are you denying you were there?”

Gary’s voice was icy. “I would appreciate if you wouldn’t swear at me, even if you are my
team leader
.” He spat the last two words. “Now, as to your bizarre accusations, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt, and remind myself you had way too much to drink, obviously, and perhaps you didn’t realize what you were doing.”

Elizabeth forced herself to stay in her seat, instead of leaping over the desk to punch him in the face, which was what she wanted to do. She let him continue, her hands clenched into fists in her lap.

His voice was patronizing. “I most certainly did not drug you—the very idea is outrageous.

Why would I do such a thing? I work with you, for God’s sake. As to accompanying you to that club, I don’t deny that. You
insisted
I go with you.

“And yes, I saw you up on that dais, but I most certainly did not
sell
you to anyone. In fact, I’d had quite enough by that time, if you want to know. I was very embarrassed to be put in that situation, frankly. I’m seriously thinking about discussing your unprofessional behavior with Wallace. I’m sure he’d be interested to know his executive VP is a drunk who drags her employees to sordid sex clubs.”

“You’re out of your fucking mind,” Elizabeth retorted. “If you think Wallace would believe you over me—”

“And why is that? Do you have some kind of
special
relationship with him as well?”

The implication infuriated her even more, if that were possible. She stood and slipped her purse from her shoulder. Opening it, she pulled out the now-crumpled pamphlet and tossed it at him. “Do you deny this? This—this slanderous
thing
you sent in to that club, putting me on their bid list?”

Gary took the pamphlet and smoothed it flat against his desk. His eyebrows raised and he looked at her with a nasty smile. “Slave E., eh? Surely you could have come up with something more original…” He flipped through it. “Jesus, I had no idea…”

Heat seared into her face. Reaching across the desk, she grabbed the pamphlet back.