Dominated: A Kinky Adult Fairy Tale (Bedding the Bad Girl Book 4)

by Wild, Callie

  Maybe they had been a wedding present—his and hers weapons of destruction.

  “You’re the one who wrote the letters,” Eleanor said, trying to look as if she were only just now realizing the truth.

  “I always thought you were too attractive to have a name like Eleanor. Once we get you settled in your new home, I will always call you Emily.” Robert smiled. “It’s a soft, pretty name, and you will learn to be soft and pleasing to me, won’t you, Emily?”

  “Robert, you’ve been threatening to kill me. I’m not going anywhere with you, and I’m certainly not going to—”

  “That was only to lead the authorities to assume your death when you disappear,” he said in a soothing voice. “I won’t hurt you, unless you give me no other choice. If you come quietly and do your best to please me, I will reward you as I reward my other mistresses.”

  So he had other mistresses.

  Eleanor wondered if Cindy knew about that, and was surprised not to hear a scream of outrage from the other room. Her stepdaughter had to be watching, didn’t she? Unless, of course, everyone had left and she was alone with Robert, foolishly thinking that the cavalry would come riding in at any moment.

  She sucked in a deeper breath, struggling to stay calm. “But you’ve always hated me. I can’t believe you want to spend time with me at all, let alone in that way.”

  Robert laughed a fond—but completely crazy—laugh. “I never hated you. I find you a delightful contradiction, Emily. So strong yet so vulnerable. And I’ve seen the way you look at me. The invitation has always been clear.”

  Her brows shot up. “I’m not sure what type of invitation you’re talking about.”

  “You were jealous of Cynthia. You wanted to be the object of my interest. That’s why you did your best to stand in the way of our marriage.”

  Eleanor laughed. She would rather spend a few years in the dungeon than sleep with Robert.

  Robert scowled. “Laugh all you like, but you’ve secretly longed to be taken by the ruler of the realm.”

  Eleanor shuddered. “You’re crazy. I wouldn’t sleep with you for all the money in the treasury. Now get out of my place of business before I call the police.”

  “I’m the one holding the gun,” he said, anger creeping into his tone. “I’ll be giving the orders from now on. Put this coat on and find some sensible shoes. We’re leaving.”

  Eleanor backed away from Robert and the coat he held out. “I’m not going with you. You repulse me, and you’re my stepdaughter’s husband. Aren’t you concerned with how Cindy will take this?”

  She risked a glance over her shoulder. Robert had said more than enough to incriminate himself, where the hell was the Queen’s guard?

  “She’ll never know,” Robert said, continuing to advance.

  “Don’t you think she’ll suspect something?”

  “Cynthia doesn’t have a suspicious bone in her body. I adore that about her. I adore everything about her, but she bores me in the bedroom.” He shrugged as if his wife were a toy he’d grown tired of. “She doesn’t like to play the games we like to play, Emily. You know what it’s like to ache for something more.”

  Eleanor cringed, bile rising in her throat. “I don’t know anything about my stepdaughter’s sex life, and you don’t know what I ache for.”

  “I will,” he said with a smile that sent a chill down Eleanor’s spine.

  He was completely insane, and nothing she could say would convince him that she didn’t crave the privilege of being his mistress. It was time to run—she would wonder why her captain had failed her later, after she was safe.

  Eleanor turned and did an ungraceful half-gainer over the couch, landing in a crouched position that she hoped would afford her cover if Robert decided to fire the gun, and bolted for the west dressing room. She needed to get out of the line of fire. Then she could lock the door behind her and make a run for the rear staircase. From there, it would only be a few—

  She screamed, hitting the floor as the gun fired behind her.

  “Freeze, Queen’s Guard, you’re under arrest.”

  Before Eleanor could lift her head, Robert landed on top of her with enough force to take her breath away. For a small man, he was still damned heavy. Gray spots bloomed in front of her eyes as she rolled over and grabbed for the gun he was now aiming at her face.

  “I’ve got her, good work, men,” the king shouted, pressing his pistol to her throat.

  “No, I’ve got you, sir.” If she’d thought Frank’s voice intimidating before, she’d been sadly mistaken. Now, as he gripped the king by the neck and pants and pulled him into the air, the man’s every word radiated pure, unadulterated menace.

  Eleanor opened her mouth to ask him what had taken so long, but was shocked into silence when Frank let loose a roar and hurled the king against the wall. Robert slammed into the plaster with a sickening thud and slid to the floor, where he lay still.

  “Oh my god,” Eleanor breathed, trembling.

  “Are you all right?” Frank turned to her with wild eyes. For a second, Eleanor shrank from the intensity of his gaze before she realized that it was concern, not anger that burned so brightly there.

  “I’m fine, but I was beginning to worry.”

  “We had dissension in the ranks, someone who thought we should obey the orders of a madman. He’s been taken into custody, but it distracted our focus. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I just—”

  “You could have been killed. There’s no excuse for that. I shouldn’t have allowed you to be in danger in the first place.” The look in his eyes was still fierce, wild, but now Eleanor could see something else there as well.

  He had been afraid for her—and not only because he had promised to protect her.

  “It’s all right, Frank,” she said, taking the hand he offered and letting him pull her to her feet. As soon as they touched, need pulsed through her veins all over again. Even in the wake of being scared for her life, she wasn’t immune to the powerful draw of this man.

  “But what are you going to do?” she asked. “If Robert’s dead, won’t that make it—”

  “He isn’t dead.”

  “He looks dead.” Eleanor glanced over to where the man lay crumpled on the floor. Blood seeped from the place where his dark hair touched the white carpet.

  Obviously time to consider a new color floor covering.

  “He isn’t; he’ll live to stand trial. Armand, Thomas, take the king into custody.” He motioned to two of the men on the other side of the room. “You can allow the royal physician to attend to him, but don’t leave him unguarded. We’ll need to keep him under supervision until Parliament can decide how to house him until trial.”

  The two officers Frank had spoken to crossed the room and scooped Robert unceremoniously up from the floor. The king moaned and shifted as they hoisted him into the air, but his eyes didn’t open and his skin remained a ghostly shade of white. Based on her observation, Robert wasn’t in very good shape, but Frank’s confidence was contagious and Eleanor felt the knot in her chest begin to ease.

  “Not on your life. I refuse to go!” The door to the dressing room slammed open, revealing Cindy screaming and struggling in a flustered-looking Nate’s grasp.

  “Captain, she’s refusing to be taken into custody.”

  “How can she refuse, Officer?” Frank said. “She’s half your size, and I believe you’re armed.”

  Nate flushed bright red and reached for the handcuffs on his belt.

  “But, Captain Frank, please, it wasn’t even a real gun!” Cindy’s hands threaded together in front of her. “I was just going to use it to scare Eleanor into leaving so I could be here when Robert arrived and confront him. I never intended to hurt her, I don’t deserve to be arrested.”

  “The gun was a fake, sir,” Nate supplied, though he held onto both Cindy and the handcuffs.

  Frank shrugged. “I only know that the law was broken. Threatening a citizen with a weapon
—”

  “But—”

  “Even a fake weapon, is a crime,” Frank continued. “Take her into custody. Keep her and the king separated.”

  “You can’t do this! I’m the queen!” Cindy sputtered. “I’ll still be the queen, no matter what happens with Robert. You know Parliament won’t impeach me. I’ve done nothing wrong, nothing!”

  Frank ignored her while Nate snapped the cuffs on and led her from the room. Considering how long a part of Eleanor had wished to see this very sight, it still made her sad to see Cindy taken away. True, she’d only helped raise her stepdaughter for four years, but Eleanor had never wanted to see a kid who had been in her care taken away in handcuffs.

  “Frank, you know she’s probably right,” Eleanor said. “And I don’t want you risking your position for me. I’ll be fine as long as—”

  “I’m not doing anything but following the letter of the law,” Frank interrupted before striding after the rest of the guards.

  He was nearly to the door before Eleanor realized that he intended to leave without a word of goodbye, or even so much as an “I’ll call you to discuss the way we nearly got busy on your couch later.”

  “Frank?” Eleanor called after him. Didn’t he have anything he wanted to say? Hadn’t what they’d shared meant anything to him? The look in his eyes had made her certain that he felt the same pull that she felt. How could she have been so mistaken?

  “I have a job to do,” he said, glancing over his shoulder “It was nice meeting you.”

  That was it? Nice meeting you?

  That was all he had to say?

  “The pleasure was all mine,” Eleanor said with a tight smile, managing to keep it together until the door closed behind him. She listened as the men loaded into the elevator and all too quickly, the parlor was as silent as a Sunday morning.

  He was gone. Just like that.

  Eleanor felt her face crumple, but struggled to keep from losing it. She hadn’t cried either of the two times she’d had a gun held on her tonight; she wasn’t going to cry a second time over Big Baldy. So he had made her feel more alive than she had in years, and more treasured than she had even in the arms of her first husband.

  But those feelings had been nothing but the product of deception. Frank was a man looking to entertain himself, nothing more.

  “No. He listened, he really did,” Eleanor murmured, refusing to believe she’d been that mistaken.

  He’d told her about his son, worried about her safety, and looked at her as if she were the most sexy, desirable woman in the world. Surely she hadn’t imagined all that.

  But whether she had imagined it or not, he was gone now, and she was alone.

  Frank had left, taking with him one regulation slave loincloth and a piece of her heart.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Three days later…

  Eleanor

  Eleanor sighed and shifted uncomfortably on the throne-like chair that dominated the corner of her new sitting room. The space was easily twice the size of her old house, and only part of the large castle suite she now occupied. Every amenity was provided, and she had wanted for nothing since her arrival—from food to entertainment to a full-body rubdown from the royal masseuse.

  The digs and service were fantastic, but Eleanor would have preferred to be back in her own home.

  It had been two years since she’d had the luxury of puttering about her house in the daytime. She’d had to sleep through the morning and early afternoon to be rested for her nightly Wicked Stepmothering. Now that all of that was behind her, she couldn’t imagine anything more fabulous than hanging out in her breakfast nook with a cup of coffee and the morning paper and watching the sunlight move across the wall.

  Instead, she was here, a pampered captive in the guest quarters of the castle while the media frenzied around her house and former place of business. She’d had no choice but to accept Cindy’s kind offer of accommodation for her own protection. The sensation caused by the revelation that King Robert had been in love with his stepmother-in-law and planned to keep her captive as his sex slave was more than the average reporter could handle and still keep their manners about them.

  Eleanor had nearly been trampled on her way from her front door to the car Cindy had sent to take her to the castle. She hadn’t ventured out since, and was beginning to feel the opposite of agoraphobic—whatever that was called.

  But it wasn’t all bad. Cindy had been remarkably sweet the past few days, since Parliament had decided to allow her to remain on as ruler until her son or daughter was old enough to rule. Come to find out, Cindy was already four months pregnant, a condition that had no doubt contributed to her despair at finding out her husband was an insane lech. It had also contributed to Parliament’s decision to be lenient with her stepdaughter, so Eleanor figured the situation evened itself out rather well.

  Impending motherhood had also increased Cindy’s empathy for Eleanor’s position. They’d had several long, mother-daughter-type talks and come to a tentative reconciliation. Cindy had apologized for her horrible behavior, and Eleanor had finally convinced Cindy that marrying her father hadn’t been Eleanor’s cunning way of ruining Cindy’s twelve-year-old life.

  For her part, the new queen seemed eager to make up for the years of hostility between them. Eleanor was open to being friends, but would rather have begun their new relationship from the safety of her own home. No matter how well behaved, Cindy was still Cindy, and there was only so much Eleanor could take before her stepdaughter started to try her patience.

  All she could hope for was that the craziness would fade soon, and she’d be able to return to some semblance of a normal life. Not that she would know what that was at this point. It had been years since Eleanor’s life had felt normal. It was kind of scary to think of what she would do with herself now that her name had been cleared and a generous sum paid to her by her stepdaughter in restitution for the king’s attempted kidnapping.

  She was finally a free woman. Now, she had to figure out what to do with that freedom.

  A sudden knock on the door gave her at least one idea—breakfast. A woman had to eat, and the castle chefs did their best to tempt her appetite.

  “Come in,” she called, fighting the urge to spring from her chair and open the door. The castle staff didn’t like her opening doors or in any way facilitating their work. They weren’t used to the people they served lifting a finger and it made them nervous.

  “Come in!” Eleanor called a bit more loudly. She kept forgetting how thick and solid the castle walls were.

  “Hello?” A deep male voice sounded from the other side of the door.

  Speaking of solid…

  “C-come in,” Eleanor stuttered. There was only one voice that sounded like that, one voice that sent chills racing across her skin and electricity throbbing straight to her clit.

  She’d never expected to hear that voice again, let alone to see Frank’s face or be in the same room with him. Since he had left her that night, she hadn’t heard a word from him. It was as if the moment they’d shared had never happened. It was simply a haunting, erotic dream that woke her in the night, aching for the only man who had ever made her feel so perfectly fulfilled.

  “Hello, Eleanor.” Frank opened the door to her suite, and immediately took her breath away.

  She could smell his unique, potently sensual scent from twenty feet away. It invaded her body, making her nipples tighten and a sharp knot of longing fist low in her belly.

  “Hello, Frank.” Thank God she didn’t sound as lustful as she felt. Now she just had to get rid of him before she did something stupid, like throw herself at his feet and beg him to fuck her. Not something she would usually worry about, but she hadn’t been herself since that night. He had awoken her long-dormant sex drive and she’d been able to think of little else since.

  “You look…” Frank trailed off as he walked into the room, stopping near her chair.

  “Yes?” she prompted, noticin
g that he looked amazing in a pair of faded jeans and a plain black t-shirt that stretched tightly over his chest. He looked even more rampantly masculine clothed, if that were possible.

  Or maybe it was just the thought of getting to peel off that shirt to reveal the perfection underneath that made her body ache.

  “You look even better in real life,” he said with a smile, seeming to recover from whatever had stolen his words a moment before. “You’ve been all over the evening news, but the cameras didn’t do you justice.”

  She would like to believe he was being sincere, but considering she was still in her pajamas and hadn’t brushed her hair or bothered to put on her makeup, she seriously doubted that was the case. At least she’d brushed her teeth—not that he would be getting close enough to smell her breath.

  In fact, it would be best if he turned around and left right now.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure, so very early in the morning?” She needed to keep her mind on business, find out what he wanted, and then get rid of him. She had enough on her plate without being reminded that she was suffering from something that felt remarkably like a broken heart.

  “They told me you got up early,” Frank said, then fell silent, staring at her in a way that would have been flattering if she weren’t positive that he didn’t care for her.

  How could he, when he’d left without so much as a kind word?

  “What do you want, Frank?” She rose from her chair, walking over to the table where her fruit tray from last night still sat. She was no longer hungry, but maybe he’d hurry up and get on with whatever he was here for if he assumed she was ready for breakfast.

  “Not a morning person?” He followed her to the table, taking a grape from the tray with the same ease he’d taken her body in his hands a few nights before.

  For some reason, that air of possession drove her over the edge.

  “Hands off my fruit tray,” she snapped. “For your information, I’m definitely a morning person, just not when in the presence of someone I don’t like very much.”