Love Beat

by Flora Dain

  It feels right and just, a courtesy and a homage, and doing it in the still small hours just before dawn gives me a total, all-consuming thrill.

  What’s happening to me?

  * * * *

  Morning comes in a blaze of sunlight. I wake to the deep, thrilling murmur of Cade’s voice as he strides about taking one call after another. In the background I hear the rarefied strains of a Bach Cantata. The rhythms of the singing match his pace while his low murmur makes a stirring ground bass to the familiar, soaring anthem.

  As he catches my eye, he ends a call and comes quickly over, tucking in his shirt. His look sends my heartbeat into overdrive as he sits on the edge of the bed and tenderly pushes some strands of hair away from my face.

  “Are you okay? Things got pretty intense last night.”

  I shuffle up the pillows and stretch. “I’m fine. Truly. I feel wonderful.”

  He smiles back briefly then switches off his phone as it buzzes again. Without looking at it, he slips it into his pocket and pulls back the cover.

  “Let me look at you.”

  “Now? You’re insatiable.”

  He meets my playful grin with a grave stare. “I’m your Dom.” His eyes darken as he lowers his voice. “It’s my job to take care of you and make sure we don’t…overdo things.”

  “We?”

  His eyes gleam. “We. I go only as far as you let me. Turn over. I want to check your beautiful backside.”

  I sigh as his hands move over me in a slow, sensuous caress. One or two places are still tender, where the whip landed with unexpected force. He traces the marks with his finger, making them burn, making me shiver. “Does this feel good? Or not?”

  In the mirror on the far wall I can see some faint marks, but very few—just one or two thin red lines and a patch of rosy skin where I still feel used. Moisture pools between my legs as I recall how I earned them—the long, slow burn and the pleasure that followed.

  I feel my cheeks redden and hear his sharp intake of breath.

  He tilts my chin to face him. “Tunis?”

  I swallow, my face burning. I never thought I’d say this. “Yes,” I whisper. “It feels good.”

  His mouth curls, a slow smile of triumph. “Good. Then we’re getting somewhere.”

  He touches his lips to my neck, my shoulder, then my lower back just above my tailbone. “Mm, delicious. I could eat you for breakfast. Maybe I will one day.”

  He sits up and slaps my bottom hard. I yelp in surprise as he laughs and springs to his feet. “But not today. Get up. Nera just called to say you’re due at the salon in five minutes. You’re getting a massage, pedicure and a medical. I’ll see you back here at”—he glances at his watch—“three. We’ll start our session early today. Dinner might take longer than usual. I’ve got some investors flying in for a meeting.”

  As he strolls back to his room to fetch his jacket, he closes the door behind him. I stare at it, puzzled.

  Salon appointment? First I’ve heard of it.

  * * * *

  In the salon, it’s clear I’m expected. I’m led to a small room, brought a coffee and asked to strip and lie on a table to await the masseuse. But the first person to arrive is Nera.

  She sweeps me with an icy look then quietly locks the door.

  I sit up in alarm. “Where’s the masseuse?”

  Nera looks down at me with open dislike. “Waiting outside. I want to talk to you.”

  I clutch the sheet over myself. Somehow the thought of this hard-edged woman seeing me naked makes me queasy.

  At the same moment an image of Mel’s tense, thin face crosses my mind. I strike first. “What’s this about you and Ben?”

  Nera blinks. “What about him?”

  “I hear he’s a little too keen.”

  For a second she looks wary. “Meeting a Domme for the first time can be a very powerful experience. You should know.”

  What? I ignore this and lean forward. “He’s taken, Nera. You’re treading on someone’s toes. Back off.”

  She presses her crimson-painted lips together in a thin, spiteful line. “Some people get emotional. It usually passes off in a few days.” Her eyes flicker with something unpleasantly like triumph. “And I know all about Cade’s little arrangement.” Her lip curls. “And don’t think it’ll get you anywhere. He’s just doing you a favor. And, frankly, I think you had a lot of nerve asking him.”

  She knows everything. I glare at her. “And this is your business why, exactly?”

  “Because I know what’s good for him, that’s why. And you’re anything but. You’ll ruin his career. We booked you the Panther. You’d have been far better off with him. A lily-livered vanilla in need of a good thrashing would have suited him just fine. Cade’s the last person you should have asked.”

  Fury consumes me. I get that she’s cross about me messing up her bookings, but inwardly I rage. She knows, while I’m sworn to secrecy.

  At that moment there’s a discreet tap at the door.

  With a scowl she unlocks it and Sonja looks in, her pretty face white and strained. She’s about to speak when she sees me and stops. She and Nera exchange a look then Nera glances back.

  “Gotta go. And believe me, I wish you would. You’re not doing any of us any favors.”

  She slips past the masseuse, who enters with a bright, professional smile and closes the door.

  Despite all the pampering that follows, I stay tense. Nera knows. But how much does she know? And who else knows?

  He’s taken me over. I’ve thought so much about pleasing him and accepting the pleasures he gives me that my brain’s shut down and I’ve forgotten to think.

  I’ve been such a fool. I’m simply playing into his hands. He’s a hard-edged businessman with an empire to run, money to make and a grudge against me.

  Last year was a fiasco for him and his business. It was all my fault. Now he wants payback. And if I fall for him, lose my job and ruin my friends’ chances in the process, his revenge will be all the sweeter.

  Leaving the salon, I walk straight into Mel.

  “Tunis. They said you’d be here.” Mel’s clearly fresh from a training session. Slightly flushed, she looks chic in tight latex and tall boots, a perfect budding Domme—sure of herself, in control.

  Unlike me.

  She lowers her voice to a friendly stage whisper. “Can’t stop, I’m doing another session in a few minutes with Ben. And guess what? We’re planning a little diversion in the next day or so. Just thought I’d let you know. I’m getting mighty sick of Nera and Mr. Media Mogul bossing us all about.”

  “Diversion?” I stare at her, instantly alarmed. “What kind of diversion? Mel, please don’t—”

  “Not now. No time. We’ll talk over lunch.”

  With a conspiratorial wink and a wave of her thin fingers, she’s gone.

  At that moment my phone vibrates.

  Oh no.

  I stare at it, my heart sinking. After a long moment I take a deep breath and dial. “Mel? I’ve just had a message from home. Yes, it’s—the usual. I have to go. I’m so sorry.” I stare at the phone as emotion wells up, making it impossible to speak for a moment.

  I don’t need this. Not now.

  I take a deep breath and lift the phone again. “Mel? Still there? Yes, I’ll be fine. Can you explain to the others? Thanks. You’re an angel. And please, please, don’t do anything until I get back—about the diversion, I mean.”

  It’s the best I can do.

  Now life has to go on hold.

  * * * *

  Ten minutes later, I’ve ransacked my room for my bag and jacket, and I’m headed for the main door. Luckily there’s no sign of Cade. An encounter with him at this point would make things far too complicated.

  But how to get out of here? Security’s everywhere, the gates kept locked. The place bristles with hidden cameras, tracking every doorway, every exit. What keeps the paparazzi firmly out keeps all the rest of us firmly in.

&nbs
p; Cade will be alerted instantly if I try to leave. But if I slip out now, there’s an outside chance I can get back before he finds out I’ve been away

  It’s a long shot, but I’ll have to try.

  At that moment I hear a commotion in the entrance area. Garth Delaney is leaving. A fleet of cars has drawn up to the entrance to convey him and his entourage of agents, spokespeople and image consultants away to the capital.

  Inspiration strikes.

  “Mr. Delaney?” I approach him with a bright smile. “Any chance I could ride with you as far as the main road? I need to go over a couple of things from Mel’s interview…”

  * * * *

  Some hours later I’m staring at my phone, my heart close to breaking, as yet another text from Cade lights up on the display. He’s been calling and texting constantly.

  Where are you? CALL ME.

  I lean back with a weary sigh as the taxi winds deep into the country lanes and I switch off my phone. It’s cruel, but it can’t be helped…

  “This as far as you want to go, lady?” As the cab driver eyes me in the driving mirror, I snap back to the present with a jerk. For the last hour or so I was happily lost in memories of last night. Now dream time’s over.

  I’m back in real life. My life.

  It’s been a long, fraught journey and it’s a while since I’ve made it. Long ago I promised always to heed the call whatever time of day or night and to make the journey as fast as I could.

  I’ve never regretted it once—until today.

  It comes at the worst possible time. I’m right in the middle of an important job, I’m leaving my friends in danger of losing theirs and, worst of all, I’m turning my back on something new in my life, something entirely unexpected.

  Maybe my strange relationship with Cade Fitzlean will never come to anything. Maybe to him I’m nothing special, just one of a thousand women, one in a million pleasures that his looks and his wealth can buy.

  Now I’ll never know.

  I never thought this promise, made with so little thought so long ago, would cost me so much.

  In the back of the taxi I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I’m here now. I know what’s waiting and I dread what I’ll find. But it has to be done.

  Life’s a bitch.

  “Thanks. This is fine. How much do I owe you?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  An hour or so later, there’s a loud banging at the door. In the chaotic kitchen, the two people I’ve come to see look pale and drawn in the glare from the overhead lighting.

  The knock startles us all. For an instant, I see them in freeze-frame. One is my father, his old familiar self, apart from a new and unfamiliar patch of wet all down his shirt.

  The other is Janice, my stepmother. She’s distraught, her hair, normally smooth and elegant, a spiky mess. Her face is tearstained and distorted.

  We’ve got potato peelings in our hair.

  She’s screaming.

  I look at my father, willing him to stay where he is. “Don’t answer the door, Dad, please.”

  He shuffles past me. In a sudden dash, I get there before him.

  As I open it just a crack, it’s suddenly wrenched from my grasp and flung wide. I clap my hand to my mouth. “Cade? How did you get here?”

  He’s staring at me, his eyes wild. Behind him I see the headlights of more than one car and figures on the path. One is his driver. Another is silhouetted in the blaze of the headlights.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Go away. You can’t come in.” I might as well push back a hurricane. He’s already striding into the kitchen.

  My parents stare as he enters—over six feet of rugged, masculine willpower—and glares at them. The screams stop mid-flow.

  In the sudden silence, his deep voice rings out, making us all jump. “Where’s her medication? Somebody fetch it.”

  It’s like watching something happen in slow motion. He takes charge with quiet command, taking the pills from my father’s shaking hands and passing them to the white-coated figure he’s brought with him. As I shrink back against the wall, bewildered, a paramedic drapes a blanket round the distraught Janice and gently leads her out to an ambulance. Dad follows. Cade gives a quiet instruction to the driver to take them both to their regular clinic.

  It’s all happened so fast and so smoothly that I can barely register he’s here.

  Now we’re alone.

  He turns to me, his face gaunt, takes me over to the sink and gently picks the peelings out of my hair. “Did she attack you?”

  At last I find my voice. “She objected to the way I cut up the potatoes. But…how did you know? And how did you find us?”

  He sighs wearily and sinks into a chair. “Jake Simmons, your so-called boyfriend. He told me everything.”

  He passes a hand over his eyes. “Any chance of a coffee?”

  “Jake told you?” I stare at him. I’ve known Jake for years. I trust him. It’s impossible.

  But then, so is the sight of Cade Fitzlean—handsome multimillionaire, legend—actually sitting here, in my parents’ kitchen.

  He looks weary but he’s wrought magic. My parents are safe, my stepmother calm. All because he turned up when he did.

  But to accuse Jake… “He’d never do that.”

  Cade stiffens. “So I’m a liar now? Thanks.” His voice is dangerously soft, his look pure steel. “Why did you switch off your cell phone?”

  “Don’t change the subject. We’re talking about Jake.”

  “No. We’ll talk about you.” For a second the steel flashes white-hot. “We had an agreement. Today you broke it several times over. You should have said you had commitments. You should have told me where you were going. And you should at the very least have answered my calls.”

  He glares at me. “You will never, ever, do that again. Understand? Anything might have happened. Paparazzi, kidnapping—reporters are desperate to know what’s going on at the Hall. Why do you think we went to town on security?”

  His rage fuels mine. I resist the urge to shout back. “Cade, with respect, this is a private matter.”

  His eyes blaze. “So is our arrangement. While you’re my sub, you’re in my care. I have to know everything—where you go, who you see, when you eat.”

  I give a weary sigh. “When she’s really bad, I have to get here fast. The others are used to it. I just did what I always do. I hadn’t told you because her attacks are quite rare now. I didn’t expect one this particular week. I’m sorry. Does that satisfy you? Now, please go away and leave me in peace.”

  “No.” The cups on the draining board rattle. “I’m staying here, and I’m taking you back. Where’s that coffee?”

  * * * *

  “So what did Jake tell you?” I glare at him.

  It’s late now and we’re eyeing each other over empty coffee mugs, two empty glasses and a half-finished bottle of wine. We’ve been talking so long that I’ve lost track of time.

  But it’s only a lull in the storm. I want answers. “What did he say exactly?”

  His jaw stiffens. “When I heard you’d gone, I tried to call you. Then I sent security after you. Nobody saw you leave. Nera saw you with Macallan but when I asked, she denied it point blank. Then Simmons told me where you’d be. He said—and I quote—‘I should know just what sort of people I was mixing with’.”

  “He said what?”

  “His exact words. So you’ve told him about us?” His tone slices through me.

  “No. I told no one. I hardly see them, remember? You’ve done everything you can to keep us apart.” I sound sharper than I mean to.

  My mind races. Have I given something away? “Maybe he guessed after that business at the gorge. Or maybe…”

  “What? Tell me.” His voice is low, his tone sharp.

  I feel myself color. “I was just thinking… Anyone who’d seen us dance together might…guess.”

  When we dance, I simply melt into his arms. We move together as one.
At least, that’s how it feels. Maybe that’s how it looks.

  I start to clear away the things, avoiding his eye.

  As I lean over to pick up his cup and his wine glass, he grips my wrist. “So why did you tell him and not me?”

  “I’ve told no one.” I pause and lean against the sink. “He’s always known about Janice. His family lives nearby. We’re practically neighbors.”

  He eyes me steadily. “He’s hot for you. And he seems to know a lot about her condition. Is he unstable too?”

  Poor Jake. I take his part, as always. “He’s…creative. He just gets excited. That’s all.”

  To my relief, Cade changes tack.

  “Your stepmother’s always been like this?”

  “Only when she forgets her pills.” I unclench my fingers. “Very few people know. Look, I’d sooner keep this private. I don’t want my parents pestered by reporters. Dad has a tough enough time as it is.”

  “But your colleagues know?”

  “They cover for me when I have to come home. But I can’t believe Jake said that.” I put my head in my hands. It’s been a long day.

  He frowns, his voice gentle. “Hey, easy. Maybe he was just worried about you. I sure as hell was.”

  For a fleeting moment I feel a surge of joy at the thought that he’s missed me then it instantly fades.

  I’m just an investment. He wants me back on track. Our documentary’s going to be one massive promotional ad for his launch, and I’m the main theme.

  He needs me commercially. That’s all. I feel bitterness well up. “Yeah. Sure you were.”

  I glance round at the untidy room, avoiding his dark, steady gaze. I’m too tired to argue. “Shall I fix you some food?”

  With a glance at his watch, he gets to his feet. “My driver’s booked us into a local hotel. He’s waiting outside. I’ll bring you back here in the morning. Unless you want join your parents at the clinic right away?”

  I let out a slow breath. “Thanks, but Dad likes to settle her in quietly. I’ll call them tomorrow. I’ll stay here. I’m fine on my own. You don’t have to…”