Prometheus Triumphant [Prometheus in Chains 8] (Siren Publishing Classic)
Page 7
Tonight was going to be special. He’d booked her a session at a local spa. A car was to collect her after work and take her there, then, return to bring her back home when she’d finished. He couldn’t wait to see her. Her favourite rosé wine was chilling in the fridge. He put the oven on low to heat, ready to keep the meal warm. The kitchens from the club were supplying the meal. The catering manager had smiled when he’d asked her, promising their very best effort. It seemed everyone was in on the secret, except his Jenny. The table was ready, and two packages wrapped in gold paper with huge bows of red ribbon waited by her plate. The ring was an antique. It had caught his eye in a little shop. The stone was a piece of polished amber and would suit her colouring perfectly. The solid silver setting was simple. The collar, waiting in the long flat box, had given him more trouble. In the end he’d found what he wanted online. The black leather choker had a padlock at the back with one silver key which hung on a chain around his neck. It was decorated with polished pieces of amber and silver chains. A large P hung from a small chain at the front. He’d found out later that the firm he’d used had made Angus’s collar for Jane.
He showered and changed. They wouldn’t be using condoms starting tonight. They’d both had routine health checks. She was on the pill, so there was no need anymore, and she’d already loved him with her soft little mouth with no barriers. He couldn’t wait to be inside her with no barriers. He put on tight black slacks and an amber silk shirt, sprayed lavishly with his favourite cologne Armani Code, and went back to the living area. He didn’t want heavy metal tonight. Looking through his collection, he came across the CD that Angus and Catriona had told him he must listen to. Runrig’s Recovery. He put in into the player and sat down to listen. Some of the songs were in Gaelic. That was all very well for Catriona and Angus, but he didn’t speak the language. Still they’d said it was very good, so he settled to listen. The haunting strains of the album washed over him. The striking voices made the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. There was certainly something special about this band. He’d have to see what other CDs Catriona had and borrow them. He found he didn’t need to know the words. The feeling the singer put into the Gaelic songs was enough.
* * * *
Jenny came into the flat, letting herself in with her own key. It was very quiet. She looked at the sofa and saw him sleeping there. She couldn’t believe her luck. She’d never dreamed when she came up north that she’d find a man like him. She’d hoped. All women hope to find that someone special. She’d had so many problems, but none of that had stopped him loving her, wanting her. He’d helped when she needed it. She was under no illusions that, had it not been for that clever lawyer of his, things might have been a lot worse for her. She’d loved him for so long and knew he was hers. She tiptoed into the bedroom and put down her bag. It was heavier than usual, but that was to be expected with what she had in it.
Looking at herself in the mirror, she liked what she saw. Her hair had been given subtle highlights and was set in an elegant style, which framed her face. The amber dress she wore reached the floor without her high heels. It had been waiting for her at the spa. The neckline was a deep V showing off her breasts. The silky material clung to her hips. They had given her a superb but very subtle makeup. She’d had the full wax treatment and a whole-body massage. She felt superb. She felt relaxed and confident and ready for anything.
She wondered what he’d got planned. The door buzzer sounded, and she went to answer it. The catering manager ushered in a couple of waitresses with covered dishes. They took them to the kitchen and put them in the heated oven. Jenny didn’t know the catering manager well, but the woman smiled at her.
“We all hope everything turns out well for you. Prometheus has never been so happy as he is now.”
They left, and Jenny looked at the table. The two packages drew her eyes. The shapes of the boxes left no doubt in her mind as to what they contained. She put out her hand to touch them, but two large warm palms stole around her waist and pulled her back into a hard body with an unmistakeable erection, which pressed urgently into her behind.
“Not yet, my little Jenny, That’s for dessert. Let me look at you. He took her into the living room and twirled her. “You’re good enough to eat. You look amazing, and you smell even better. Shall we skip dinner?”
“I’m so hungry,” she said and chortled at the look on his face as her stomach made unmistakeable sounds to back her up.
“Let’s eat then. Have they delivered the food?”
“Yes, Master, they have. It’s in the oven warming.”
He seated her, opened the wine, and served the meal. Homemade Lauderdale cream soup with its subtle mix of blue Stilton cheese and cauliflower was followed by sirloin steak, with garlic mushrooms, chips, and salad. Dessert was a homemade cream caramel. They certainly had done them proud. As usual, he fed her tidbits from his own plate and she reciprocated. When they’d eaten their fill Prometheus picked up the long, flat package and gave it to her to open. She quickly discarded the gold paper and the ribbon, opened the box, and could say no more as she saw the beautiful collar inside it. He took it out. She was hard pressed not to break down in tears. She’d dreamed of this moment and for the last two years the man she’d dreamed of had been Master Prometheus. She’d thought that, with all that had happened to her, it wouldn’t be possible for her to find happiness with any man. Here he was, the one man she wanted, asking her to wear his collar. Moreover the stone she’d chosen to have in his ring was the very stone he’d chosen for her collar.
“Will you wear my collar, Jenny?”
There was no hesitation and if her voice was husky he certainly didn’t seem to mind.
“I’d be proud to wear it, Master.” She stood then knelt before him as he fastened the collar around her neck and shut the padlock.
“There’s something else I want to ask you, Jenny.” He helped her to her feet, and she offered one small parcel and one large one she’d been concealing on the floor by her place.
“Will you open these first please, Master?” He took the small box, wrapped in dark-blue paper with silver ribbons. He opened one and revealed a ring box. Inside was a large silver signet ring with a polished amber stone. It was engraved.
“All my love, forever, Jenny wren.”
She watched him stroke the amber stone. He opened the larger box to find a heavy silver bracelet made up of flat links. Jenny helped him to fasten it around his wrist. He twisted it round and round looking at the links and stroking them.
Then he remembered the other small box he had for her. He dropped gracefully to one knee and gave it to her. She took off the paper and the ribbon, opened the box, and smiled as she saw the ring, so like the one she’d given him.
“Will you marry me, Jenny wren?”
Her eyes filled with tears as she looked at him. She’d so wanted a home and a future and been envious of all her friends in Prometheus in Chains, especially Gloria, who had husband, a home, and a baby on the way. Now she didn’t need to envy anybody anything. She had her hero and he wanted to marry her. He’d had faith in her and done all in his power to help. She stood up straight, shrugged off the last lingering feelings of unworthiness left by Jim and Alfred, and faced her future.
He took the ring and slipped it onto her finger as she bent to kiss him, saying, “Yes, please, Master.”
THE END
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Since my youngest son challenged me to write a novel of my own and I wrote Initiation, book one in the Prometheus in Chains series, writing has taken over my life. It has been like a roller-coaster ride and a very pleasurable one at that. When I sent off my first book to Siren, I had no idea what I was setting in motion. I have made many good friends, some readers and some fellow authors. Writing has certainly changed my life.
I believe the world has enough sadness in it, and my characters will always get their HEA, even if the road is rocky.
> I am very grateful for all the help and advice I have received from everyone at Siren, especially my editor Jackie and Christine for so many beautiful covers.
I would love to hear from you, and I always answer e-mails or contacts on Facebook.
Clairdelune4542@yahoo.co.uk
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