Irish Cream (2 page)

A tap on her shoulder made her jump, and she turned to see James leaning back, hands up in surrender.

"Sorry," he said, and to his credit, he looked like he meant it. "I was just saying that I have a spare room - a suite, really, that you can use for as long as you'd like. You don't have to stay here either - if you'd rather get a hotel room or something, I can book us into adjoining rooms if you'd feel more comfortable. It's just until Andrew leaves, then you won't need me anymore."

She frowned, confused. "Why are you doing this? I can't afford to pay you - I can barely afford the rent on the little apartment Celia found for me. I appreciate everything, but--"

"I owe Celia one," he said with a shrug. "A big one. So she called in a favor, though you should know I would have helped anyway. I was smitten the moment you came in the bar, annoyed that you couldn't find me right away." He winked, grinning playfully, and she couldn't help but smile back. "Come on," he said, getting out of the car and waiting for her to join him. "I'll give you the tour, and if you hate it, we'll go somewhere else, okay?"

She nodded, exhaustion setting in quickly. "I'm sure this will be fine, really - and thank you. I really appreciate all of this, even though I know I'm handling it badly."

He led the way up the broad stairs and unlocked the door, pushing it open and then standing back so she could enter first. She took a few steps and then stopped, entranced by the mural that lined the sides of an enormous double staircase.

"You're handling it just fine," he said as he followed her inside and closed the door, snapping the deadbolt home. "Better than most would in your shoes, I bet. Your room is upstairs..."

"Who painted this?" Brianna said, unable to take her eyes off what appeared to be a riotous orgy before her. "It's...amazing."

He stepped up beside her, his tall frame making her feel small, but surprisingly not vulnerable.

"I did," he said quietly. "This is what I do when I'm not running the bar. Do you like it?"

"You did this?" Brianna looked up at James in shock before she realized how her words must have sounded. "I didn't mean to imply--"

He laughed. "It's okay. Most people are surprised. And obviously I paint for a very...specific clientele, so my art is normally kept behind closed doors."

She shook her head, turning back to the painting to take in the smooth, flowing lines and creamy skin set against a deep background of dark jewel tones.

"It's so real. The way you've placed them, and the detail in each muscle is just stunning. I bet you get good money for this - and I can see you're worth every penny."

"Thank you." His tone lowered, and she looked at him again, wondering at the thoughtful expression on his face. "Come on," he said, inclining his head toward the staircase on the right. "If you like this one, you might like the paintings in your suite as well."

Following him up the stairs, Brianna enjoyed the smooth, heavy feeling of the old banister under her fingers, though she couldn't take her eyes off the profile of her delectable host. Broad and tapered in all the right places, he was a bear of a man, and all muscle judging from the moments she'd spent under his arm earlier. Tired though she was, she found herself wanting to curl up with him, to sleep with his arms wrapped around her, holding her like any normal person. Drew had made her sleep alone, always - said she had to be reminded of her place. At the memory of the straw-covered cement floor, she crossed her arms over her chest and shivered.

"Everything okay?"

James's soothing voice brought her back to the present, and she didn't flinch when he reached out to wipe a tear off her face. Embarrassed, she forced a smile and lowered her arms.

"It's just been a long day, is all. I'll be okay once I get some sleep." She could see he didn't believe her, but he simply nodded and opened the imposing wooden door they'd stopped in front of. Stepping aside, he motioned for her to go first. She went in, her mind in a haze as she took in the huge four-poster bed surrounded by translucent fabric and shrouded in a rich green velvety-looking material. There were also a couple of antique-looking armchairs upholstered in the same fabric, and a fireplace in the corner that appeared to be medieval, though glass covered the front of the fire box.

"The bathroom is over here," James said, pointing to a set of French doors to the left of the bed. "And if you need anything, my room is just through there." He pointed to another door by the fireplace. "I hope you don't mind having an adjoining door, but I wanted to be close in case something happened."

There was something else, Brianna could tell, but he didn't share. She considered asking but quickly decided she probably didn't want to know.

"This is all just too much," she said. "I don't know how I can ever repay you. I--"

"You can just pay me what you were going to pay for rent," James said, going back to the door. "And you're welcome to rent the room as long as you'd like, as I said before. If you want to freshen up, I'll be back in an hour with something to eat. Anything in particular you'd like?"

She shook her head, relieved that he was going to accept payment, at least, but not wanting to impose further. "Anything is fine. I think I'll just take a shower. May I use the hot water?" The question popped out before she could stop it, and her cheeks burned with the realization that she'd fallen into the submissive role again.

He merely nodded, his expression unreadable. "Of course. There's plenty to go around. Enjoy yourself."

After he left, she turned a slow circle, taking it all in for a moment. She was still going to give Celia a piece of her mind the next time they spoke, but it was hard to be mad when she'd been upgraded to a five-star suite. Even if it was because Drew couldn't let her go.

Moving into the bathroom, she nearly cried when she saw that someone had already laid out all sorts of toiletries on the long marble counter. Fluffy white towels hung on a bar near the shower, and a thick robe on a separate hook. There was a neat pile of clothing on the opposite end of the counter, with a white envelope propped on top with her name on it. Removing a card, she opened it, smiling when she recognized Celia's handwriting.

"Brianna, I know you're probably mad that I told James about you, but I had a feeling you'd need someone to help you through this transition. James has been a good friend for a long, long time, and you can trust him. Not only is he capable of protecting you from Drew, there are other things he can help you with too, if you'll let him. Keep an open mind, and listen to what he has to say. Do it as a favor to me. I'll come and see you in a few days. I hope you can forgive me...Your friend, Celia"

Brianna put the note down, wondering what Celia had meant by "other things". She undressed and got in the shower, self-conscious behind the large, clear-glass walls even though she was alone. The warm water was a balm both to her soul and her still-healing skin. She'd hear James out if he had something to say, but she couldn't think of anything more she needed now, other than to be rid of Drew. Then she could finally be free.

James knocked on Brianna's door an hour later, not surprised when she didn't answer immediately. Knowing she was short enough to have missed the small access panel in the top of her door, he carefully swung it open and peered inside her room. Scanning the area, he nearly missed the small bare foot peeking out from behind the bed on the floor.

His heart racing, he fitted his master key in the lock and yanked the door open, rushing across the room. If anything happened to his charge, Celia would kill him, not to mention the damage to his reputation. Rounding the bed, he pulled up short at the quiet tears sliding down Brianna's face as she lay on the floor. Wrapped in the robe he'd provided, she'd taken a pillow from the bed, but James knew she couldn't be comfortable.

It occurred to him that was the point.

Satisfied that she wasn't physically hurt and knowing he needed to tread carefully, he eased himself to the floor beside her, careful to keep a margin between them.

"How was your shower?" he asked, pleased when her gaze focused tight on his face. Shock at the unexpected question, no doubt. As he'd intended. He waited patiently, fascinated as he watched her try to shift gears. Reaching up with one hand, she swiped the tears from her face.

"Good," she finally answered, watching him carefully.

"I'm glad." He kept his expression neutral. "Are you hungry?"

She nodded. "Yes Si...um, yes."

James stood, then bent down and offered his hand. "Come on then. The food should be here any minute. One of the maids is bringing dinner up."

She slipped a hand into his, the coolness of her skin startling him. He said nothing though, just helped her to her feet and led her to one of the big armchairs in front of the fireplace. When she was settled he used the remote to start the electric flames.

"Better?" he asked, noticing the maid with their cart in the doorway, her hand poised to knock. He motioned for her to enter.

"You can put it right in front of our guest," he said, standing back while Alicia arranged the cart. Brianna's eyes didn't leave Alicia’s throat until the maid left the room, and he wondered if she was thinking about the collar she'd left behind. He pulled the other chair over to sit opposite her, and removed the silver domes from their plates before he sat down.

"Thank you," Brianna said quietly, waiting until he picked up his fork and took a bite of the lasagna before she dared taste her own. "It's very good."

He smiled. "I'll tell Alicia you think so. Or you can tell her yourself when she comes back. She's just learning how to cook, so she'll be pleased."

Brianna took a few more bites, but James could tell something was on her mind. He hoped in time she'd trust him enough to share her thoughts without fear.

"Was there something you wanted to ask me?" he said, watching a lovely peach blush spread over her cheeks. "You can, you know. Whatever you want. Don't be afraid."

She took a sip of her water and set her fork down. "Is she...that is, do you..."

He wiped his mouth with his napkin and smiled, taking pity on her. This was as good a time as any to explain exactly what he did. And why she was here.

"Yes, Alicia is my slave. For now. She's here because she wanted to see what it's like to be submissive, without being fully committed. She's exploring the side of her that wants to be dominated, and she's paid dearly for the privilege. If she decides at the end of her time here that she wants to embrace the life, I'll place her with a suitable master. If she decides to go back to her old life, she'll simply pack her bags and walk away."

Brianna looked down at her plate, pushing her remaining food around with her fork. "Do you do that often?" she asked, not looking up. "Get paid to introduce women to the lifestyle, I mean."

He leaned back in his chair, watching her. "It's how I make my living. That and the artwork, of course."

She was thinking again, still playing with her food. "I wish I'd known you existed months ago," she murmured, looking up long enough to flash him a wane smile. "Maybe I'd have figured out this whole submissive thing isn't for me before everything got so out of hand."

He leaned forward. "Or maybe you'd have learned what it's like to be in a real, healthy Dom-sub relationship, instead of being abused by a cruel man."

She shook her head. "I'm not sure I believe that's even possible," she said, a sad note in her voice. "I mean, look at me. I can't even take a shower without asking for permission." A short laugh escaped her throat and her eyes grew moist. "I can't even sleep on a bed anymore, James. That's why I was on the floor when you came in. The whole time I belonged to Drew, he made me sleep in a concrete cell, on some hay on the floor with just a thin blanket to pull around myself. I was only allowed clothes when we went outside the house, which wasn't often, and what I got to wear depended on which scars he wanted to show off to his buddies. I was passed around to his friends like a cheap handkerchief, and if I dared to object, he just beat me harder. I never want to experience any of it again. I just want my old life back, damn it!"

She collapsed back in the chair, tears slipping down her face. James pushed the tray to the door, and then came back to stand in front of her. He knew it would be intimidating. And that she needed someone to be strong. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was still wired to be submissive, and he was going to do his best to help her recover and learn to embrace her true self.

Bending down, he slipped one arm under her knees and another behind her back, carrying her to the bed. Setting her down gently, he laid down beside her and pulled her against his chest while she cried it out.

She quieted a few minutes later, and pulled away, or tried to. He looked into her glassy red eyes and stroked her hair with one hand.

"You're going to get through this," he said, lowering his voice into the range he used with the submissives he trained. "I'm going to help you, and when we're done, you'll be able to sleep on a bed, and take a shower, and make all sorts of decisions yourself. If you want to, that is."