The Billionaire Submissive (Billionaires in Bondage) (29 page)

“Right now?”

“Yes, please. Ralph is so…” Hannah’s voice broke and she sobbed for several moments before she could continue. “This is our last try. He can’t take it any longer.”

In many ways, Ralph was a lot like Donovan had been in the very beginning. His submissive needs conflicted with what he believed a man had to do and be to be considered a
real
man. When he couldn’t become aroused for his loving, beautiful wife, he felt inferior, weak and undeserving. It didn’t matter how much she loved him, how hard she was trying. He didn’t feel like he was a man worthy of her love.

If Donovan needed me, would I ever be able to refuse him? Of course not. And if I couldn’t help him, I’d get on the phone and call every single dominant I knew until I found someone who could help me do whatever he needed. He has to understand why I couldn’t abandon them.

After yesterday’s parking debacle, the last thing she wanted to do was drive into St. Paul again. “I’m not dressed, I don’t have any equipment, and I can’t easily get home to pick anything up.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Hannah insisted. “Please, I just need you to coach me a little. Please. I’ll send a taxi to get you, wherever you are.”

“All right.” She gave the warehouse address and hung up to call Donovan’s cell phone.
Please, please pick up. Please understand.

Of course she got his voice mail. “Donovan, I’ve got an emergency situation here with one of my old clients. I’m going to go help them. You know what it does and doesn’t mean. I’ll explain everything to you in person, okay? I’ll even phone Dmitri and make sure he has pie on the menu tonight.” She paused a second, trying to decide what else to say. She hadn’t planned to tell him how she felt in a voice mail, but he’d understand the gravity of the situation better if she also gave him the truth.

Taking a deep breath, she gathered her courage. “I know why, Donovan. Because you love me. And I love you. I’ll be at the Saint Paul Hotel. As soon as I’m done, I’ll call you.”

Shaking hands with each man at the table, Donovan tried to hurry up without being rude to his new business partners. He didn’t have to check his watch to know the meeting had run long, and the last thing he wanted was for Lilly to get it in her head she ought to drive to Dmitri’s on her own. His secretary came to the door and waved a note at him.

“Please excuse me.”

Nodding and smiling, he made his way to the door and stepped outside.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your meeting but…”

For once, Miss Wruthers managed to a make a statement instead of a question, although its incompleteness still managed to set his teeth on edge. “Yes?”

“I have something you need to see. It’s important.”

He checked his watch. Damn it, it was already 5:00 p.m. If he didn’t get Lilly to dinner soon, she’d fall over from exhaustion after failing to even notice the lunch getting stale again, and tonight, he had an especially nice surprise planned. “Yes, what is it?”

Still, Miss Wruthers hesitated, crumpling the note in her hand. “I did something you might not like.” She peeked up at him, paled and squeezed her eyes shut. “I asked Andy Wells to do some digging and pretended the order came from you.”

Keeping a fierce grip on his temper, Donovan took a deep breath before replying. “I see. On whom?”

“Lilly Harrison.” She opened her eyes and reeled back a step at the look on his face. “It’s a good thing I did too. Or you wouldn’t know she’s still going to see her clients.”

“What?”

“She is. Andy tailed her to the Saint Paul Hotel just a few minutes ago. He called it in right away.” She shoved the note at him, but he didn’t bother reading it.

“Why on earth would you feel it necessary to investigate my…” He hesitated a moment, because he certainly wasn’t going to say “Mistress” and “girlfriend” didn’t compare to the depth of his attachment to Lilly.

Miss Wruthers’s eyes narrowed with a dark, nasty emotion he’d never seen from her before. Spite. Disdain. And most of all, hatred.

“…fiancée?”

Miss Wruthers choked like she’d swallowed her own tongue. “You’d marry a
prostitute
?”

He gripped her arm firmly and dragged her back toward her desk. “Pack your things. Get out of my office. Immediately.”

“But she is,” Miss Wruthers cried, looking bewildered. “I heard you arguing the day she came into your office dressed like a hooker. I had Andy start following her immediately. I thought you’d be glad to know she’s been lying to you. She never stopped seeing her other clients. She’s with one right now.”

He clenched his hands at his side to keep from throwing the woman out. “You can’t possibly understand what she does.”

“Oh, I know what she does for you all right.”

Surprised his show of temper hadn’t scared her—when every other time she’d simpered and squeaked if he even thought about raising his voice, Donovan headed for the elevator and pressed the call button. If one of Lilly’s clients had truly called her, it would have been an emergency.
Unless one of them’s a nutcase who can’t bear to let her go.

Knowing her, she’d gone to help them without a single thought of her own safety. Andy liked her. If he called it in, she really might be in danger. “I’ll call HR tomorrow morning and make sure you receive a healthy severance to compensate you for your troubles, but I never want to see your face in my office again.”

“I know everything, Mr. Morgan.” Miss Wruthers’s sly tone made him halt in his tracks and turn to face her. “And I’ve got the pictures to prove it.”

“Prove what?” He forced himself to calm down. Anger wouldn’t help dissolve this mess. “That I love Lilly?”

“Some of the pictures might be embarrassing, but not too risqué. However, there’s one particular picture on a boat you might pay a great deal of money to keep out of the media. You really oughtn’t go around completely nude, Mr. Morgan.”

He’d always thought that once the ugly truth came out he’d wither up and die of humiliation. He’d do, say, and certainly pay anything to keep anyone from knowing the truth about him. Certainly his face would burst into flame and shame would eat away at his gut. He’d not be able to think of a single defense and his hands would tremble like he had palsy.

But none of that was true now. His head had never been clearer, his stomach calmer, and his hands were rock steady. “Andy Wells wouldn’t have taken any pictures. Not of his boss.”

“No, you’re right. I had to hire someone else to do the dirty work. But Andy did agree to tail the slut just in case she was up to something. I just had to tell him you wanted him to act as protection, not dig for dirt.”

“So that’s your plan? You’ll extort a little money from me to bury some illicit pictures?”

“Oh, no, Mr. Morgan. That wasn’t my plan at all.” She took off her glasses and released her blonde hair, letting it tumble down her shoulders. She gave him a flirtatious smile that made his blood run cold. “You don’t honestly think my aspirations include fetching coffee for you and your mistress, do you?”

His eyes flared, but then he realized she probably didn’t really mean Mistress, but rather the woman he was sleeping with.

She glided toward him, walking with the confidence of a supermodel. “This was supposed to be my fairy tale. I was going to play the part of the shy, plain secretary you inexplicably couldn’t keep your hands off of. You were going to be my extremely wealthy knight in shining armor. A little office hanky panky and then the wedding of the year at Conservatory. Or maybe Chanhassen’s Dinner Theatre. I hadn’t decided. But as soon as that overweight little slut sauntered into your office, you fell for her hook, line and sinker.”

She posed in front of him, and yes, he supposed she was a beautiful woman, if a man preferred icy beauty.
Funny, but I liked her better with the glasses.
“I wouldn’t trade a single one of her luscious curves for you…” He hesitated, unwilling to continue giving her the respect he’d shown her by using her surname, but he honestly had no idea what her given name was. “What’s your first name again?”

“Isabella.” Instead of taking offense, she must have counted his request for her first name as a victory. She walked her fingers up his chest and pressed her hips to his. He had to give it to her—she didn’t give up easily. “What does she do for you that I can’t, Donovan?”

He wasn’t the kind of man who’d meekly pay her off to keep those pictures out of the papers. Yet he didn’t want the scandal if he attempted to bring her up on extortion charges. It’d be much easier if she disappeared on her own accord. He let a smile flicker on his lips. “Are you sure?”

“Oh, yes, please. I want to know. I’m sure I can please you above and beyond your wildest dreams.” She batted her eyes and pressed her breasts against him too. “Or lover boy. Isn’t that what she called you?”

“Yes, but my favorite nickname she calls me is sexy beast.” He lowered his head and let his breath tickle her ear. “You’ll have to tie me up and beat me until I beg you to fuck me. Then you have to wrap your thighs around my head and try to suffocate me on your desire. If I’m still breathing, you can chain me to your bed and really have your way with me.”

A sound escaped her lips more authentic than anything he’d heard since hiring her. It sounded suspiciously like the wail of a dying animal. She stumbled back a step, her eyes big china-blue saucers. “You’re joking. Right? You’re just trying to scare me.”

“Am I?” He unbuttoned the neck of his shirt, opening it up enough to show the collar he wore, the lock clearly visible. “Then why does she own me? You saw the pictures. She often makes me go naked. You said you had a shot from the boat. If you look closely enough, you might even be able to see the red marks on my ass from where she whipped me.”

Bright red splotched her cheeks but the rest of her face was milk pale.
One more push ought to do it
, he decided.

“For the beating, I prefer a crop. It has a nice, heavy thud when she hits me with it. But just about anything will suffice. She even used a wooden spoon once that was quite effective.”

“A spoon,” Isabella whispered. “She…”

“Beat me with it,” he nodded. “You ought to see what she did with cherry pie.”

The elevator dinged. She pushed past him and leaped into the waiting cabin. “Go to hell, Mr. Morgan.”

“Gladly, Miss Wruthers.” Relieved she was gone, he found the manila folder on her desk containing the aforementioned pictures. Hopefully she didn’t have backup copies at home. With a quick call to security to make sure she left the building and immediately revoke all her access to the company, he tossed the folder into his briefcase.

It was 5:10 p.m. Furious he’d been delayed at all, he called Andy next. “Is she in danger?”

“I wasn’t sure at first,” Andy admitted. “A taxi came to get her at the warehouse and took her straight to the hotel. When she got there, though, a woman met her in the lobby. It looked like she’d been crying. I don’t think it’s a rogue ex-client with malicious intent.”

“At least she didn’t try to drive,” Donovan muttered. “Did you get the name or room number?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton, room 243.”

“Thanks, Andy.” Headed for his car, he didn’t hang up right away. Not yet. “Miss Wruthers took it upon herself to ask you to tail Lilly. The order didn’t come directly from me.”

“I suspected as much when Miss Wruthers kept asking me to take pictures of you two together.” Andy’s voice echoed with relief. “I watched Miss Harrison when you weren’t with her, but otherwise I kept my nose out of your business, Mr. Morgan.”

“I appreciate it, Andy. But more, I’m grateful you called today. If anything happened to Lilly…” he let his voice break with emotion. “I wouldn’t be able to go on.”

“I’m on the floor now. If I hear anything, I’ll call security,” Andy promised. “She’s safe.”

“If she tries to leave, stall her. And whatever you do, don’t allow her to drive!”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Normally a cell phone was the last thing Lilly kept handy in a scene, but she kept it out and ready in case Donovan called her back. When his text finally came, her eyes burned.
Downstairs if you need me. I love you too.

Everything was going to be all right. He understood. He hadn’t leapt to the horrible conclusion she was doing one of her clients behind his back. Mr. Douchebag would have assumed the worst.

Mr. Morgan, her sexy beast of a submissive, had come to make sure she was safe.

Hannah Hamilton paused, a flail over her shoulder, ready to land another blow, but her arm wavered. Bound spread-eagled beneath her and gagged, her husband cast wide eyes around the room to see what was happening. “Everything okay?”

“I’m sorry for the interruption, Hannah. Please continue.”

With a nod from Mistress L, Hannah swung the flail against her husband’s back. The steady
thwap
filled the room. Hannah started to sweat. But nothing happened.

Specifically, nothing was happening for Ralph. He didn’t fight the bonds or moan. For all she knew, he’d fallen asleep.

“Let’s halt for a moment.” Frustrated she hadn’t been able to get through to them, Lilly tried to think of a new tactic. “Hannah, see to the submissive. I’m sure he’s thirsty.”

She removed the gag and lifted her husband’s head to let him drink from a plastic bottle. They whispered and she stroked his hair off his forehead. It was very tender. But the actual punishment had been wooden. Unemotional. No wonder Ralph couldn’t get excited. Hannah couldn’t arouse him because she hadn’t been touched emotionally by what she was doing. It was going through the motions for his sake. Since it did nothing for her, it did nothing for him either, despite her best intentions.