BOX SET: Shifter 4-Pack Vol 2 (Wolf Shifter, Dragon Shifter, Mafia, Billionaire, BBW, Alpha) (Werewolf Weredragon Paranormal Fantasy Romance Collection)

by Candace Ayers

  Jeremy sighed and said, simply, "You are his caretaker." Then he closed the door and left me alone in a strange new world where everything seemed upside down. I bet this is how Alice felt.

  I stepped further into the room and approached the bed. A beautiful black dress was laid out. I hadn't even noticed it till now. I'd been so preoccupied with the beauty of the room itself and trying to figure out my duties that I'd failed to notice all the personal touches that had been placed here for me. There was makeup on the dresser, an adjoining bathroom, where I could see a huge tub and freshly laundered towels. A small jewelry box sat on the dresser, open. A sparkling emerald necklace lay beside it.

  There was a huge walk-in closet just off the bathroom. I turned on the light and saw more clothes than I'd owned in my entire life. I quickly flipped the light back off, my heart starting to pound a little too hard. Something wasn't right here.

  I looked back at the dress on the bed. I didn't know much about clothes, but I knew that this dress was exquisite. This was not something bought off the rack at JC Penney. I stretched out a hand and touched the dress carefully. It was soft and smooth, very expensive looking. I noticed a tag at the top of it. Christian Dior. $10,000

  I pulled my hand back like I'd touched fire. This couldn't be right. This wasn't for me. I checked the size. It was my size exactly, although I'd never given it to Brett when he'd asked. "Good guess," I mumbled.

  I didn't think I could accept something so extravagant as this, but the simple beauty of it made me want to at least try it on. When would I ever be this close to a dress like this again? I undressed and decided to take a shower first. I didn't want to go to dinner smelling like a corpse. Besides, the bathroom was beautiful and I couldn't wait to sink into that tub. Later. Right now, I just needed a quick shower so I could get dressed and find out what was going on here.

  Towels had already been set out for me. They smelled like flowers and the shower itself was like nothing I'd ever seen. Two shower heads, one on each side, sprayed fine mist at me as I washed my hair and lathered my body. I wanted to stay in this shower forever, but my stomach grumbled and I realized I hadn't eaten anything all day. Suddenly, dinner sounded like the best idea ever.

  I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around myself. Back in the bedroom I searched through the drawers, wondering if there might be a hair tie or a bobby pin in one of them. I opened the top right drawer of a long, dark dresser. It was filled with exotic lingerie and custom made bras. They were all my size. I shut it quickly.

  What the hell is going on?

  I sat on the bed, my legs weak, contemplating the situation. A closet full of clothes. A drawer full of lingerie. What was my role here exactly? Brett's concubine? I looked around the room, with its lush furnishings and soft bed. Sure beats a park bench. I was here. I might as well eat dinner. I was sure I'd find out more there, and if there was anything funny going on, I'd leave. I stood up, nodding my head, trying to reassure myself that I was making the right decision, and slipped into the dress.

  Chapter 5

  Downstairs, I finally understood what Jeremy meant about the House Buttons. There were intercoms all over the place. I got lost going down a hall, saw a button, and when I pushed it Jeremy's voice immediately rang out guiding me to the dining room.

  It was just as richly furnished as the rest of the house. Some of the things in it looked very old, including the table. Mr. Elliot was already seated and when I came in he stood up. "Good to see you again," he said.

  "You too." His demeanor was so changed from the other night that I scarcely recognized him. Except, of course, for those piercing blue-green eyes that seemed to slice into my soul. And, the fact that he was probably the hottest guy I’d ever seen- in my life. I realized I was staring and shook my head.

  "Thank you," I said, as he walked around and pulled out a chair for me. We sat on opposite sides of a long dining table. It was a little strange, but I supposed this way we each had our own space. He pushed my chair in before returning to his end.

  Could this really be the same man I met the other day? Maybe Brett- Mr. Elliot had a twin.

  "You look beautiful," he said. His eyes raked over me sending chills up and down my spine.

  I blushed. "It's the dress."

  "It's the woman in the dress." I smiled. Slipping into the Dior had felt like taking a bath in champagne. It clung to my body in all the best ways, accentuating my curves and showcasing my breasts, of which I was very proud. I was probably the only woman in this town who didn't have implants (and didn't need them).

  He rose from the table, which was long, dark wood, and poured a rich looking wine into my glass. "Thank you," I said again. "And thank you for the dress."

  “Thank you. For wearing it.” He replied quietly, almost shyly.

  Jeremy came in then, followed by a woman in a simple chef's apron and pants. "Hello Jeremy. Annabelle." He turned to me, "This is our talented chef, Annabelle. She prepares the most exquisite meals."

  Annabelle smiled. She was pretty, but not in the plastic way that I'd begun getting used to out here. She was thin and lightly colored, with wavy golden hair that fell to her shoulders. She smiled at Mr. Elliot and a thin film of jealousy broke across my forehead.

  "What is for dinner tonight, Annabelle?" Mr. Elliot asked. His voice radiated warmth.

  "I kept it simple tonight," she replied. "Filet mignon with potatoes au gratin. Apple pie for dessert. Does that sound okay?"

  Mr. Elliot looked directly into my eyes, and I felt a wave of passion surge through my core. I had no idea where it came from, only that now that it had made its appearance, it may be impossible to push aside.

  Annabelle smiled warmly at me and I felt the urge to rip her eyes out of her head. My hands trembled as Jeremy watched me. "Sounds good," I said, hoping to hurry things up. What kind of idiot thought that filet mignon was a simple meal? Not us poor peasant folk. I felt like she'd insulted me, and I felt a fierce protectiveness over Mr. Elliot that I didn't understand.

  Luckily, Annabelle went back to the kitchen and sent Jeremy out with several trays of food. He laid them all out on the table in rich ceremony before serving us. It felt really strange having a butler serve me food. I wasn't sure I could get used to it. I kept wanting to get up and help.

  "You may leave us Jeremy," Mr. Elliot said with a wave of his hand.

  Jeremy looked at me and his eyes darkened. "Are you quite certain Sir? Perhaps I should remain until after dinner. In case you need anything." Again, there was that veiled threat lurking behind his words. I couldn't explain it, but I knew it was there. Jeremy saw me watching him and smiled. His lips were thin and his eyes too narrow.

  "No," Mr. Elliot said. "We'll be fine. I'd like to get to know Kaitlyn better."

  Oh, so it was Kaitlyn now.

  Jeremy left the room, obviously unhappy. It was as though he didn't trust me. I had the strangest feeling he didn't go far.

  "So Kaitlyn, tell me, what did you do before coming here?" His voice was like a magnet, drawing me to him. I felt my cheeks grow hot and my brain clouded over in a storm of desire.

  "I, uh..." It was getting harder to breathe. The man dazzled me sitting in his chair with those hypnotic eyes of his. His dark hair fell across his forehead when he reached for some more wine, offering to refill my glass first. I felt a surge of lust that hit me like a brick hitting water.

  "Is everything alright Kaitlyn? You seem a bit... flustered."

  It took every ounce of strength to rip my eyes from his so that I could think clearly enough to answer his question. My heart thumped in my chest as I tried to catch my breath. What was the matter with me?

  "Forgive me Mr. Elliot—"

  "Brett, please."

  I looked at him, startled. "Okay, Brett... forgive me, but you seem very different from the last time I saw you."

  His eyes darkened and I wondered if I should've kept my mouth shut.

  "I apologize for my behavior yesterday afternoon.
I was... not feeling well."

  Oh. It was a simple answer, but it had the ring of truth to it. I knew that when I didn't feel well I could get pretty cranky. Now that I thought about it, he'd tried to excuse himself and have Jeremy finish the interview, but Jeremy had refused. It pissed me off to think that Jeremy would be so inconsiderate when Brett was ill. I already thought there was something off about that guy, now I knew what. He was an asshat.

  "You never answered my question," he said.

  "Oh? I'm sorry. What was the question?"

  "What did you do before coming here?"

  "Oh, I'm an actress."

  Brett put down his fork and looked at me. "Really?"

  I blushed, "Well, trying to be. You know, like everyone else in L.A."

  "Well, you certainly have the looks to make it, if you don't mind my saying so." He smiled and put another forkful of food in his mouth, his eyes never leaving mine.

  My face flushed. This wasn't sarcasm. Brett was perfectly sincere in his compliment and sitting under his intense gaze, wearing an amazing designer dress, I actually felt beautiful. "Um, thank you," I said, seizing the opportunity to get some answers. "Brett, perhaps you could answer some questions for me. I'm still a little unclear as to what my job is here."

  I tried to laugh, but I felt the steady pulse of my heart as it beat faster inside my chest. I was enjoying myself... I just couldn't stop wondering what Brett's lips would taste like if I were to crawl across the table and kiss him, running my fingers through his hair, sliding onto his lap… I attempted to push the thought from my head.

  "You know, maybe we should just talk in the morning," I said. "I had a rough day. I think I'd like to go to bed."

  "You can't," Brett said. It was a command.

  "Ummm... why not?" I asked. I tried to stop the growing anxiety from filling my chest, but it wasn't working.

  "I hired you for a purpose. You must fulfill that purpose each night before you may retire."

  Fulfill my purpose? Was he for real? Did he think that I would just roll over for him because he's rich and hot and he dressed me in a Dior? Brett was probably used to getting his way. Well, not with me. I didn't care how broke I was. I had lines that I just wouldn't cross. I'd take the park bench over being his hired mistress- no matter how damp my panties got when he raked his eyes over my body with that hungry look.

  "Kaitlyn..." he asked, his brows furrowing in concern. "Are you alright?"

  I snapped. I pushed my chair back, grabbed my wine glass, and walked across the floor where I flung my drink in his face. He looked shocked.

  "What was that for?" he asked, rising from his chair, angry now too.

  "I don't know who you think I am, but I do not sleep with people for money. If that's what you want, I know a great spot off Hollywood Boulevard where they cater to creeps like you."

  Then I turned and fled from the room.

  Chapter 6

  I sat on the plush bed in my new room. Tears rolled down my face. I'm nothing more than a cheap hooker to him. And to make it worse, here I am crying for -what? The third time today? I took another look around the room, with the closet full of expensive clothes and the furniture that looked like it belonged in a museum. Well, I’m not exactly cheap.

  In a way, I was oddly flattered. How many women had applied? This guy was so rich, he could have his pick from a million women, but he'd chosen me. There was a soft knock on my door. I wiped at my eyes before checking myself in the mirror. "What," I snapped.

  "May I come in?"

  Brett was just on the other side of my door. Even now, the beat of my heart accelerated to a sprint knowing he was so near to me. I couldn't stop myself from inviting him in. "Fine, but if you try anything I'll pepper spray you." I didn't even have pepper spray.

  The door creaked open and he stood outside the room a moment before stepping over the threshold. "I owe you an apology," he said.

  I stood by the bed with my fists bunched at my sides, staring at the floor so I didn't have to look at those eyes. "For thinking that I'd trade money for sex?" I looked up, meaning to emphasize just how offended I was with an indignant glare, but when I looked at him all I could see were his moist pink lips, golden skin, and an expression that looked truly appologetic.

  "For not being clear," he said.

  I eyed him with suspicion. Men this good looking and this rich were not to be trusted. I kicked myself for thinking like my mother. "What do you mean?" I asked.

  "I would never presume that your body was for sale. I can assure you, I have the utmost respect for you."

  My breath was shallow. I didn't want to pass out in the middle of his apology, so I made myself take deep breaths and hold them. "So what are you saying? What's my job here then?"

  He sighed and took a deep breath now himself. "Would you follow me please?" Then he turned and exited my room without waiting for my response. I only hesitated a fraction of a second before following. My mind was riddled with conflict. I was glad he didn't want me for sex, but now I was feeling a little disappointed. Wasn't I good enough for him? And why was he being so cryptic about what my job here actually was then?

  As I followed him down the hall, I couldn't help noticing the way he walked. Smooth, even steps so crisp and light it was almost like he was floating. There was something about his manner that suggested importance. It wasn't the wealth that surrounded him or the charming way his eyes almost glowed when he looked at me, it was a feeling that emanated from him. Power.

  He led me down the hall towards his bedroom. For a moment I thought he was about to turn down the stairs. A giant wave of relief rush over me, followed by a smaller one of disappointment. But instead of turning, he continued down the hall and my heart skipped three beats. Outside the door to his room was a security lock with a key pad that I hadn't noticed before. It blended with the wall and from a distance looked like a decoration.

  The door to his room stood just as mine: floor to ceiling, dark wood, very sturdy looking. I didn't even see a lock and wondered what exactly the keypad was for. Brett pulled the door open and behind it I was shocked to see a second door, just as large and made of steel. To the right of the door was a series of mechanical locks that were arranged from top to bottom. There must have been at least ten of them, and they all looked like Superman himself would have a difficult time breaking them.

  Brett turned to me, his eyes serious. "The only way into this room is with the key code. 074892. Remember it please." I watched him punch it into the key pad, each number lighting up as his fingers, which I now realized were quite large with sharp, long-ish looking nails, tapped them. There was a click and the locks slid open.

  "Repeat the numbers back please."

  "074892," I said instantly. I was an actress. It was my job to memorize things quickly.

  He smiled his approval and I turned my eyes to the door behind him which was still shut. He must have seen the vacillation behind my eyes because he said: "I promise, no harm will come to you." I thought it was a strange way to assure me that he wasn't leading me in here to ravish my body. Then he pushed the door open.

  I stepped into the room. A massive bed dominated the middle of it, pushed against the far wall. Behind the bed, where a headboard normally would have been, was a set of chains and handcuffs. The chains looked like they'd been set in the wall with cement and reinforced with steel. They came out of the wall about five feet and ended in a set of thick, enormous handcuffs. I thought that even Houdini would have a hard time getting out of those.

  Walking further into the room, I began to notice other things: whips... knives... a net? And there was a strange padding on the walls. Oh shit. Is this room sound proof?

  "What the hell is this?" I yelled, feeling that I'd been tricked. This was obviously some sort of sex room. Maybe if the handcuffs were those kind covered in soft fur and easily escapable—but no! I refused to be his dominatrix. I took a step back towards the door.

  Brett raised his hands in a placating gestu
re. "It's not for you," he said quickly. "It's for me." I narrowed my eyes and looked back at the bed where the chains and cuffs lay.

  "You mean you want me to tie you up and.. and what? Pleasure you?"

  A hint of a smile played across his face. "It's funny that you can sound so offended by the word 'pleasure.' " I blushed and turned my head. "But no, it's not for that either."

  "Then what is it for?"

  His eyes had a storm raging in them. I could have sworn he was in physical pain. "I need you to lock me up by ten o' clock every night, and do not come back for me until six the next morning."

  I laughed, thinking it must be a joke. "What are you? A vampire?" Brett didn't smile. "You really want me to leave you chained up in here until the morning?"

  "I do."

  I was beginning to realize something. Brett was either incredibly eccentric, or incredibly nuts.

  "Do you understand?"

  "Oh yeah, sure, I understand. What’s not to understand?” I mocked, “You want me to chain you to the wall and leave you there till six. Nothing strange about that. And for this you're going to pay thousands of dollars in dresses and..."

  Brett was watching me with the most pained and agonizing expression on his face. Like his brother had just died.

  "I'm sorry," I said quietly. "Sure I'll do it, if it's really what you want."

  He let out a breath and I saw relief flash across his eyes. "It is." He walked to the bed. His expression never changed. Each step was like marching towards a death sentence. His head hung low and his body seemed weighted with strain. For the first time since meeting him, I thought that he must be an incredibly lonely man.

  He climbed on top of the mattress and held his hands out for me. I laid a caressing hand across the back of his neck. He looked up at me with watery eyes. He attempted a smile then closed his eyes, waiting for me to cuff him.

  "You don't want to change or anything first? Er, pajamas or something?" He shook his head. "Okay then." I placed the cuffs over his wrists and locked them. His hands looked so tiny next to the giant metal restraints. I locked the massive padlock that hung off them and stepped back.