FrankenDom

  As if I hadn’t spoken, he continued, “Your assignment for this evening then, Rachel, is to study your contracts, particularly your personal conduct agreement, and decide whether or not you wish to honor them. You’re not legally bound to do so, and if you wish to leave, Dirk will return you to the airport as soon as the roads are passable. It’s entirely up to you.”

  My breath jammed in my throat. He wanted me to leave?

  “If, however, you decide to fulfill the terms of your contracts, I’ll quiz you over the content of your personal conduct agreement during breakfast tomorrow and for every question you answer incorrectly, there will be consequences you won’t enjoy. I will also expect you to have written out one hundred times, I will never sign any document without reading every word first. Handwriting, not typing. You’ll find all the necessary writing supplies in your desk.”

  I gaped at him. “You’re kidding right?”

  “Rachel, if you’d read your personal conduct agreement, you would know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I do not kid about personal assignments.”

  “Maybe you didn’t get the memo, Dr. Kilmartin, but I’m not a medical student anymore. I’m not even a resident—I’m a licensed vascular surgeon. A vascular surgeon you hired,” I added pointedly.

  “I’m well aware of that.”

  “Then why are you treating me this way?” I demanded.

  “Because you did a very foolish thing by signing those contracts without reading them!” he roared as he slammed his fist down on the table, rattling the china and silver.

  Numb with shock, I couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe.

  Julian leaned back, his nostrils flaring as he visibly worked to put a leash on his temper.

  “Now, Rachel,” he growled without looking directly at me, “Colin will escort you to your room, where you will remain until he collects you for breakfast. I suggest you behave or there will be consequences.”

  Colin got up and came around behind me, and I felt the tug on my chair.

  When I continued to stare at Julian, he picked up his spoon. “Good night, Rachel.”

  Then he started to eat.

  Chapter Three

  My room was exquisite. Unfortunately, I was too unsettled to appreciate it.

  Colin had escorted me down the hall without a word, keeping a tight enough grip on my elbow to bruise my skin, but my mind was in such turmoil, I hadn’t protested. I’d felt chastened. Disappointed. Bewildered. Angry. And yet wildly alive and perversely thrilled. I was humiliated that Julian and Colin both knew I’d signed my contracts without reading them—what kind of idiot did that?—and yet even my humiliation excited me.

  They shouldn’t be able to do this to me. I was a grown woman, a surgeon, and Julian was my boss. Period.

  And yet I’d allowed him to send me to my room like the girl he’d called me and let Colin shove me through the door, pull it shut and lock it from the outside, all without a peep.

  I laid my forehead against the painted wood and groaned thinking about the buttered bread I’d held in my hand not ten minutes ago. I was absolutely starving. Not only had I skipped lunch because of the turbulence, I’d hardly had a bite of breakfast because I was too excited to eat.

  Suddenly I remembered the protein bar I’d tucked in my laptop case yesterday morning. That would tide me over until breakfast.

  My guitar was propped in the corner, and my suitcases both lay on a padded chest at the foot of the heavy, ornate bed. I was relieved to see my computer case on the floor beside the lovely little antique writing desk.

  Sitting down in the ladder-back chair, I pulled out my laptop out and plugged it in, then dug for the protein bar.

  It wasn’t there.

  “Dammit,” I muttered. I was sure I’d seen it in there at the airport. Maybe Dirk, annoyed with me and unaware Mrs. Petters had treats waiting for him, had lifted it.

  Jerk.

  Hungry, and suddenly depressed and exhausted, I pulled off my boots and made a beeline for the bed. I paused when I reached it, startled to realize the mattress was too tall to sit down on. The whole bed was huge, with a flat, sturdy canopy, a ruffled valance that ran all the way around the outside, a beautiful pink-flowered quilt and a half-dozen fluffy pillows.

  There was no step that I could find, so I just sort of vaulted up onto the thing, landing on my backside among the pillows. Now I really felt like a little girl. Part of me wanted to have a good cry, while another wanted to stomp around the room and rage at Julian—and Colin, too, since he was the one who’d lured me here. The rest just wanted answers.

  Which I’d probably have if I got my butt up and read the contracts.

  But for the moment, I couldn’t be bothered to do anything except lie here with my arms flung wide and my palms curled up loosely, staring at the heavy canopy slats above as I reflected on the novelty of feeling punished.

  I was being punished by Julian Kilmartin.

  Not in any way I’d ever imagined, of course, and certainly not in a fun way, but the awareness of it still sent a shiver of exhilaration through me. I’d never been punished before, at least not that I remembered. I was the good girl, the quiet girl, the one my parents didn’t have to worry about, except that maybe I’d go blind from too much reading and studying.

  It distressed me to have made Julian so angry, and yet looking back, there was something inexplicably satisfying about it. Was I a fool to believe there might be a sexual element to his domineering behavior? Or was I just projecting my long-denied desires onto him?

  Was I unconsciously trying to provoke him into fulfilling my sexual fantasies?

  The idea made me cringe. I wasn’t cut out to manipulate people and couldn’t imagine how others did it on a regular basis. Manipulation took too much thought, too much energy. I preferred the straightforward approach to most things in life—if you wanted something, you had to ask for it and take the chance of being denied.

  But what I wanted from Julian, and even from Colin, wasn’t something I would ever be able to ask for. Not because I feared being denied—God knew Colin would have been all over any request I made when we were together—but because I feared…

  What? What was it I feared so deeply? I’d agonized over it for years and was still no closer to an answer. But it occurred to me that if all this self-examination was any indication, being sent to your room really was an effective punishment.

  Eventually I noticed some kind of ridged black tracks running along the inside of all four canopy rails, with three steel rings plugged in along each side and two along the head and foot. What in the world were they for? Maybe Julian had discarded some kind of full-length drapes that came with the bed, although the tracks didn’t look very conducive to sliding.

  I must have fallen asleep pondering their purpose because when I opened my eyes, the room was pitch-black. The clock on the nightstand said it was nearly six o’clock, but I had no idea when I’d arrived at Bangenschloss—my Circadian rhythms were off because of all the time changes over the last couple of days.

  Yawning, I sat up and fumbled with the bedside lamp until I found the switch. Then I slid down off the tall bed and refreshed my laptop connections. I felt the need to connect with Bree—not to tell her what was going on, of course. The last thing I needed to hear was I told you so. I just wanted to hear her voice, to establish a link with the real world.

  I was pleased to see a strong wi-fi signal labeled KBTI. Unfortunately, it was a secure connection and I didn’t have the password. I was batting a thousand today.

  Fortunately, there was more than one way to skin a cat. I found my purse and dug out my cell phone. But when I turned it on, there was no reception.

  Great. Was it the storm, or was there never any reception out here? Surely it was the storm—Julian had enough money to build his own network of cell towers.

  I sighed my disgust. Was anything going to go my way on this trip?

  The KBTI folder on my desktop seemed to flash my name, but feeli
ng rebellious after my nap, I studiously ignored it. Just because I was grounded to my room didn’t mean I had to do what Julian said. There was no need to read the contracts if I was going to bail on them anyway, which I very might if he continued to treat me like this. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to write out any lines. The man had been king of his own castle for far too long if he thought being my boss gave him the right to treat me like an errant vassal.

  Bursting with angry energy now, I explored my room. I was momentarily distracted when I realized the fireplace was a very realistic-looking gas log and flipped on the wall switch. Flames danced to life, instantly making the room even cozier. The overstuffed chair and ottoman now looked incredibly inviting, and I could see myself spending hours there reading—if I were going to stay, that is.

  Through one of the two doors opposite the bed, I found a luxurious en-suite bath. Besides the deep whirlpool tub, which was surrounded by white candles and jars of bath salts, there was a huge shower with multiple heads, and a bidet as well as a toilet. The pink marble tile was even warm under my feet. In short, it was a hedonist’s dream, and I was sorely tempted to stay on at Bangenschloss just so I had time to enjoy it all.

  The other door was a huge walk-in closet, and I was surprised to find it already filled with clothing—women’s clothing, most of it ranging from slinky to downright indecent. The bar on the left side bulged with daringly low-cut dresses, diaphanous robes and nightgowns, and what looked like a million slutty Halloween costumes. A closet organizing system on the other two walls held shelf after shelf of outrageous do-me heels and drawers filled with thin silk sheaths and scarves, corsets, garters, thongs and hosiery.

  “What the hell?” Grinding my teeth, I slammed the door. Whose was all this? Or did I want to know?

  The nightstand drawers held even wilder surprises. The top one was fully stocked with a variety of condoms and personal lubricants, and the bottom was bursting with a shocking array of sex toys, all still in their packages.

  Who in the hell usually stayed in this room anyway—the castle call girl?

  Actually, that wouldn’t surprise me at all. Julian was a rich man, and just because he’d never been associated with a woman in public didn’t mean he had no sex drive. He probably wouldn’t think twice about installing a paid sex minion or two in his private palace. For all I knew, prostitution was legal in this country.

  That settled it. Romantic dream-bath or no, I was not staying here one minute longer than I had to.

  Knowing that playing along might be the fastest way to get out of here, I sat back down at the desk and opened the file with my contracts in it. I opened the employment contract first and took my laptop over to the bed so I could relax. It was such dry reading, I barely managed to get through it without nodding off. Then I opened the personal conduct agreement.

  Section 1: Dual nature of Employee’s roles. Rachel Anne McBride, hereinafter referred to as Employee, shall act in two separate and distinct capacities for the duration of her employment at Kilmartin BioTech Industries. Employee’s role as a vascular surgeon is defined in the concurrent employment contract between Kilmartin BioTech Industries and Employee. Employee’s role, rights and responsibilities as sexual submissive to Julian Xavier Kilmartin, hereinafter referred to as Employer, are defined below.

  The paragraph was so full of legal jargon, I almost skimmed right over the words sexual submissive.

  Almost.

  I sat straight up, my eyes as wide as saucers. “Oh my fucking God!”

  * * * * *

  Thirteen sections later, I was still whispering, “Oh my fucking God.”

  Well, at least now I knew what the rings in the canopy were for.

  And all that stuff in the closet and nightstand? Yeah. It was for me.

  Me! I could hardly get my mind around it. Not only did Julian still want me as a woman, he wanted me in ways even I’d never fantasized about—shocking, perverted, thrilling ways that would probably have Bree hyperventilating before she called in the cavalry to rescue me.

  God, was there really a surgery on the 31st or had that all been a ruse to get me here?

  Surely not. The employment contract with KBTI had been mind-numbingly legitimate.

  My heart was still pounding a mile a minute. If I had a brain in my head, I’d leave my bags packed and stay in my room until the roads were passable, and then drive away and never look back. Why in God’s name hadn’t Colin warned me about this?

  And speaking of Colin, where did he fit into the picture? I knew he had to.

  I’m not going to ask, he’d said.

  God, those words had teased me mercilessly for the last three days, and now I knew exactly what they meant. He hadn’t warned me because it was all spelled out in black and white, right here in the employee conduct agreement—I would submit to whoever Julian wanted me to submit to. If I chose to abide by the terms of the agreement, Colin wasn’t going to give me a choice any more than Julian was.

  The realization raised gooseflesh all over me and twisted my low belly into a knot of anxious desire. During the two months we slept together, he’d asked several times if he could tie me to the bed and I was too conflicted to let him. What would happen once he had me completely helpless—everything I wanted, or maybe things I didn’t want but he thought I did because I’d allowed him to put me in that position? And why did both possibilities turn me on? Why did I feel like he could make me want things I shouldn’t?

  It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Colin, exactly. I’d certainly trusted him enough to have anal sex with him, and that had been huge for me. I blushed even now to remember those raw, edgy sessions. Colin Carter had a dirty, dirty mouth and he wasn’t afraid to use it for anything. I’d never looked at my bed—or my body—quite the same way afterward.

  But that was back before I really knew anything about BDSM, and when he talked about tying me up, I’d had the feeling he was operating on some sort of hidden agenda. It had made me extremely wary. If tying me up wasn’t his end goal, what was?

  I was too frightened—of both him and myself—to ask.

  Unfortunately, once he put the idea of bondage in my head, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I’d never stopped thinking about it, no matter how desperately I wished that I could at times.

  Had hooking me up with Julian been Colin’s hidden agenda all along? My mind boggled at the idea. He hadn’t seemed that selfless back then, but maybe I hadn’t known him as well as I thought I did.

  A knock on the door jarred me out of my sightless contemplation of the canopy.

  Sliding off the bed, I tiptoed over and said, “Yes?”

  “Dinner for you, Dr. McBride,” Lili said.

  Yes!

  “I don’t have a key for the door,” I told her.

  “I vill take care of it.”

  The lock clicked and then Lili backed her way into the room with a tea cart.

  “Where would you like this, please, Dr. McBride?”

  I looked around and pointed to the desk chair. “There would be fine.”

  “Very good.” She parked the cart beside the desk and lifted the ceramic cover off the small bowl, leaving the plates covered. It was the cream soup, and it still smelled divine. “May I bring you something else to drink?”

  There was nothing but a glass of water on the cart.

  “More wine?” I ventured.

  Her expression fell. “I am so sorry, but your limit is one glass per meal.”

  “But I only had a sip,” I protested. And what was this my limit crap? Did that mean other people—like Julian and Colin—had different limits? I added it to my list of items to discuss with my so-called master.

  “I am sorry,” Lili repeated.

  “I guess the water will do then. Thank you.”

  She curtsied quickly—curtsied!—and then backed out of the room, closing the door behind her. I waited for the click of the key turning in the lock but it never came.

  Really? She wasn’t going to
lock me in again?

  After a tense couple of minutes, I turned the doorknob very slowly and pulled the door open without a sound. Someone had been busy with the WD-40. Every door in my parents’ house creaked as though it were a house of horrors.

  Poking my head out just far enough to see, I checked both directions. No one. Everything was quiet, and the brass wall sconces had been dimmed. Now was my chance…

  To do what?

  Indecision and nerves seized me. It wasn’t like I was going to get away from Julian and Colin altogether, even if I wanted to. I was trapped at Bangenschloss for the moment, and the only thing I was likely to find on an unauthorized foray into the castle was more trouble. My inner good girl, whom I tended to heed religiously, told me to stay in my room—I’d been grounded in no uncertain terms and she didn’t want to discover the consequences of violating that order any more than I did.

  But my inner bad girl, who’d been ruthlessly locked down for way too long, was wildly curious and anxious to push the envelope.

  The envelope is fine where it is!

  Maybe Lili left the door open for a reason. Go for it!

  If she did, it’s probably a test that I don’t want to fail.

  Come on, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

  Nothing ventured, nothing punished!

  Nothing punished, nothing learned. Do you want to live in the dark forever, Rachel?

  Well that settled it. Something had clicked in my head when I read that slave contract Julian called a personal conduct agreement, something like a light switch being thrown, only the thing that lit up was me. Suddenly I felt like I had years ago whenever Julian’s stern gaze focused on me, a feeling I’d feared I might never experience again—breathless, panicky and poised to flee, but vibrantly, achingly alive.

  Was this a test Julian had set up for me? I didn’t know and I was terrified of getting caught, but I couldn’t not test the limits. I needed to know how this kind of relationship really worked and if I was strong enough to deal with it.