The Billionaire's Ink Mistress: Billionaires in Bondage, Book 2

by Joely Sue Burkhart

  He’d lose Diana. The thought struck him in the chest as if a sword had run him through. No more Priestess. No more sharing the side of him he’d just begun exploring. He’d have to continue living this life, wearing this mask, forever. Hiding, always hiding, always alone in the harshest way imaginable.

  Impossible. Yet he couldn’t ignore the niggling barb of a truth that Geoffrey had wielded so well. If he didn’t willingly withdraw for managing partner, there wasn’t much hope for Ellen, short of a miracle. Jackson certainly couldn’t afford to alienate him, or it’d be all-out war. She wouldn’t have a prayer.

  He slammed back the rest of the scotch and stood. “I’ll consider your offer.”

  “Good, good.” Geoffrey stood and offered his hand. It took all of Jackson’s will to reach out and shake without squeezing until he crushed every bone in the man’s hand. “We have a few more weeks to strategize. Tonight, we have a party to attend.” Geoffrey released his hand and slapped him on the back heartily. “Here’s to Larsen, Montgomery & Warring. Welcome to the family, son.”

  It was all Jackson could do not to run for the elevator like every demon from hell had suddenly set up chase. Diana. God. How am I going to get out of this mess?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Staring at the two gorgeous designer gowns draped across the bed, Diana muttered, “If he were here right now, I’d demand he bend over and let me paddle his ass until he couldn’t sit for a month.”

  Lilly smothered a laugh behind her hand. “Oh come on. It’s not that bad—only two! The first time Donovan bought a bunch of dresses for me, it looked like he’d decided to open up his own dress shop.”

  It wasn’t the number of gowns that bothered her, or even the expense. It was the cut of the gowns.

  The man must have lost his ever-loving mind.

  The first one was chiffon in a deep, rich bloodred. The only thing that was going to hold it up on her body was the knot over her right shoulder. The chiffon would then just drape across her breasts and flow down her body like a bloody waterfall, cinched in at the waist by what looked like a belt of diamonds. God help his poor bruised ass if they were real. The dragon tattoo on her left shoulder and throat would be completely revealed. Every time she took a step, the material would slither around her legs and the high cut would show off the long branches of orchids that curled around her upper thigh.

  Beside it lay a black gown covered in sparkling jet-black beads, short where the other was long. From the front, the upper part of the gown almost looked modest, covering her from the neck down to upper thigh, but the back was completely open and her arms were bare. The bodice was also slender enough over her chest that if she wasn’t careful, she’d reveal some side boobage along with Mama’s sugar skull on her ribs.

  It was like he’d deliberately gone out in search of gowns that would reveal as many of her tats as possible. Any other date, she’d be basking in joy that he wasn’t going to ask her cover up all that ink. But for this kind of swanky party, where she’d probably meet his mother for the first time, not to mention his coworkers, it just seemed cheap and tawdry. Like he was bragging about the gutter-trash he’d rescued or something.

  Nerves. Her own insecurities. Jackson had never called her any kind of trash. He’d kissed all that ink and sworn he’d never seen anything more beautiful in his life, so she couldn’t fault him for not even thinking about providing her some kind of cover-up.

  “He must have been thinking about your hair when he picked out the red one,” Lilly said, fingering the light material. “It’s a perfect match. You’ll definitely make a statement. No one would dare mess with you.”

  Maybe Lilly was picking up on her tenseness. Diana made herself take a deep breath to calm her nerves. “I think it’ll be too much red, though, and if I wear the sparkling stilettos again, I’ll probably break my leg. That’d be a great way to introduce myself to his mom.”

  “You walked just fine in them at the lake house, but if you won’t be comfortable, definitely pass. The black one is gorgeous too. The beads keep it from being too somber and any of the shoes he sent would look fantastic. I’d say go daring with the red Mary Janes and chunky three-inch heel, but then Donovan might stare at you too long and make me jealous. That man sure does have a thing for sexy red shoes.”

  Diana laughed at the thought. That man was so smitten with his Mistress that he slobbered every time she walked into the room. The last thing on his mind would be another woman, even if Diana walked in completely naked in those red heels. “I think I’ll go with the black dress and the black heels. Classic and elegant. Though with that back cut open so much, I’ll probably be chilly. I’m glad I brought a wrap.”

  The delicate lacy shawl had been knitted by her grandmother a couple of decades ago. It wouldn’t provide much warmth, but she’d used it a couple of times when she needed to tone down the tats. People would really have to stare to get a good look at her ink. Lilly gave her a flat look that said she knew very well that Diana was lying about a possible chill in the air but didn’t call her on it. She swept up the gown and headed for the bathroom to change just as someone knocked on the door. It sounded like a woman from the low voices. Diana shrugged off the fluffy hotel robe and stepped into the black gown. No bra, again, not with that deep back. The label wasn’t the same as the Dominatrix dress she’d worn before. No belts or scarves or anything to use to tie up her submissive later.

  Not that that would ever slow her down. She’d stashed a few goodies in her favorite dressy purse, though she wasn’t sure if she’d have the chance to play. This party was work for him. He’d already told her the board meeting was in two weeks, and then his job would settle down for the holidays. If he allowed it. She didn’t have to have a crystal ball to know that in the past, his holidays had been all work and little family time. Let alone a vacation.

  I want to change that for him. If he’ll let me.

  She checked her reflection in the mirror, pleased with the slightly messy tumble of fat curls she’d achieved, rather than her usual spiky punk look. Her makeup was flawless, classic and elegant, a hint of smoky smudge to highlight her eyes and a dark red-velvet lipstick. She turned to the side and lifted her arms, checking to make sure she wouldn’t be embarrassed later if she decided to take the shawl off. The soft curve of her breast was visible if she moved her arms too much but the dress was not too revealing. The roses and thorns down her spine looked incredible set off by the black material, but would be hard to see beneath the wrap.

  Sitting down on the toilet, she rolled on stockings so light and airy she hardly felt them. The dress was almost too short to cover the bare thigh above and her garters, though she didn’t think Jackson would mind catching a glimpse of bare skin. At all.

  Damn, she’d wanted to see her whole reflection in the mirror, but she’d forgotten the shoes. She opened the door and headed for the stack of shoeboxes at the foot of the bed.

  Voices came to her through the cracked bedroom door. She’d never stayed in a hotel suite before. The amount of space seemed ridiculous. It was probably bigger than her entire apartment. She couldn’t hear his voice, but Jackson was probably here. He’d promised to meet her at the hotel as quickly as possible, but there was some blah-blah form he had to submit or something before he’d make it. She could only hope he actually made it. Surely he’d come to his own firm’s party—but he was already later than he’d said he’d be.

  She grabbed the lowest black heels, the shawl, and her purse, and stepped out to see him.

  “Hello,” a woman said, coming forward to meet her with a huge smile on her face. She was dressed in a silvery floor-length gown that looked like a flashback to the golden years of Hollywood. “I’m Ann Quinton, Jackson’s assistant.”

  A quick glance around the room confirmed her fear. He’s not here. Yet. Diana tried not to let her glad smile slip. If his assistant was here, surely he’d be coming soon
. “Diana Temple. Nice to meet you, Ann.”

  “He got held up by one of the senior partners at the office, but they’ll both be here soon. Mr. Larsen was already dressed for the party and there’s no way either of them will miss this.” Ann stepped back and looked her up and down. “Wow, that dress is gorgeous on you. Did we forget anything?”

  Diana did a double take. We? So his assistant had picked out the gorgeous gowns, not him. Goose bumps rose up on her arms and she immediately reached for the shawl. Ann’s gaze didn’t waver. She didn’t avert her eyes from the tats or even look at her questioningly. But some of Diana’s confidence eked away. If he hadn’t deliberately picked out these revealing dresses, knowing her tats…

  “No, thank you. They’re gorgeous and I have everything. I had a hard time choosing which one to wear tonight.”

  “He had final say in the two we picked. He actually almost picked another, a blue one, I think. But he didn’t want to overwhelm you with choices.”

  That made her feel a little better. At least he’d looked at the gowns, instead of just blindly turning that responsibility over to his assistant. “Blue would have matched his eyes.”

  “Do you want to wait up here awhile?” Lilly checked her phone. “Donovan’s asking. We can wait and all go down together, or we can go down and scout things first. Get the lay of the land, so to speak.”

  “Go ahead,” Diana replied. “I’d like to get to know Ann.”

  Lilly smirked. “Oh, be honest. You’re just hoping to get some dirt on your slick lawyer from his assistant.”

  Ann’s face smoothed out to a polite but empty mask, which made Diana like her even more. She couldn’t fault her for lack of loyalty. “Not at all. I’m good at digging up dirt all by myself. I just wanted to get to know her a little, since she’s such a big part of Jackson’s life.”

  Lilly waved goodbye and stepped out the door to join Donovan. “We’ll see you downstairs in a bit, then.”

  The door shut, leaving her alone with Ann. The other woman smiled faintly and sipped her champagne but didn’t immediately say anything. Diana went over to the side table and searched through the provided liquor. “Damn. This kind of ritzy place and they don’t have a decent scotch.”

  Ann made a low choking noise, but Diana didn’t turn around to see. “I’m sure they could send up a bottle of whatever you’d like from the bar. Perhaps some forty-year-old Glenlivet?”

  Diana settled on a glass of seltzer. She’d rather drink water than that fuzzy crap any day. “Ha, I wish. That’s way out of my budget. I’m more familiar with Dewar’s, though the good stuff always tempts me.”

  “Duly noted.” Ann sat down in one of the elegant wingback chairs of a deep rich mahogany wood. “Of course, if I tell Jackson that you like scotch, you know he’ll order you a case of Johnnie Walker Blue.”

  “I don’t even want to guess how much that’d cost. Does he drink much?”

  “Sometimes. Most of the associates keep some kind of liquor for ‘sipping’ celebrations in their offices. Larsen & Montgomery is an old-fashioned firm.”

  “Ah.” Diana sat down in the matching chair across from her. “A bunch of old white guys sitting around sipping whiskey, smoking cigars and bitching about how women and coloreds have ruined everything?”

  Ann grinned. “Pretty much nailed it. That’s why Ellen, Jackson’s mother, is running for managing partner. She’s hoping to get rid of that good-old-boy mentality.”

  “Good for her. Though from what Jackson’s told me, it won’t be easy.”

  Ann’s smile slipped and she paused to drink some more of her champagne. “Not at all. Honestly, I don’t think they’re going to be able to pull it off. Though every time I’ve said that in the past, he’s found a way to win.”

  “What do you think will happen if they do win?”

  Ann tipped her head slightly, studying her. “Things change, for the better, although a few of the older associates will have a fit. There’ll be a lot of bitching and moaning but eventually no one will remember why they worked so hard to keep her out.”

  “And if they lose?”

  Ann grimaced. “We’ll have at least another year of the same old thing. Though once the younger Mr. Larsen gets his butt in the managing partner chair, it’ll take a crane or two to remove him. This is Ellen’s real chance to slip in and change things before he takes over for his father.”

  Diana tried to think of a way to ask about his intentions without making the other woman feel like she might break Jackson’s trust and confidence. “I guess Jackson’s pretty dedicated to the firm either way.”

  “No,” Ann replied slowly, drawing the word out. “Not exactly. He’s dedicated to his mother. He came to the firm to be with her.”

  If he was that close to Ellen, then getting him to move closer to the Twin Cities would probably be a giant stretch. “I can understand that. Mama’s in a nursing home in Minneapolis with Alzheimer’s. If I don’t stop by to check on her every day, I have a horrible feeling that she’ll die and I’ll never forgive myself for not going to see her as often as I can.”

  Ann was an extremely intelligent woman. She sat back in her chair with a considering gaze, sipping her champagne. Diana was happy to let her think for a few minutes, though she sure wished she had something a little harder in her glass to take the edge off. She wanted to fidget or at least pace, but her feet were going to be killing her before the evening ended. No sense in rubbing blisters before she even saw Jackson.

  “He’s dedicated to Ellen, definitely,” Ann finally said. “But she’s in excellent health and has a robust career ahead of her, whatever happens with this vote. Even though he works with her now, they only rarely ever speak as mother and son. It’s actually very sad. I don’t know the last time they even had dinner just the two of them. Let alone spent an evening at a movie or away from work.”

  Diana probed just a little, trying to get a feel for how much Ann might know about his addiction. “He’s been running himself very thin.”

  “He’s an idiot in pretty much everything except the law.” Ann smiled fondly despite her words. “I’ve actually had to schedule him time to eat and sleep or he’d just run until he dropped in his tracks. Of course he won’t listen to me and works anyway, but at least I know he’s got a break if he needs it.” She set the glass aside and looked directly into Diana’s eyes. “You know about his…problem.”

  “Yes.”

  Nodding, she let out a sigh. “I’m glad. He was in a downward spiral and I couldn’t bring him out of it without letting him know that I knew, and his pride would have been a problem. I would have brought Ellen in if I’d needed to, though he’d probably have never forgiven me. Then he came back from Minnesota a changed man. Whatever you did for him, thank you. You saved him.”

  “I’m thankful I was around to catch him. He just needed to be…” Diana paused, letting a wicked smile quirk her lips briefly. “Shaken up a little. I’m good at that.”

  Ann laughed. “So I can see. You know, if he were ever to leave the firm, I’d follow him. I don’t have any ties in Chicago. I hope that wouldn’t be a problem for you. We’ve joked that I’m his work wife, but we’ve never been romantic in any way.”

  “Not at all.” Diana smiled warmly to emphasize her words. “You can boss him around at work, and I’ll boss him around at home.”

  “Exactly. Shall we go downstairs and mingle awhile? He ought to be along anytime, though he’ll need to change first.”

  They both stood and Diana slipped on her heels. The shawl slipped down her arm, making her tug it back up.

  “You really don’t need the wrap,” Ann said gently. “Unless you’re cold, of course. Jackson has a reputation for brutally polite insults if anyone crosses him. Besides, your tattoos are absolutely gorgeous.”

  “Thank you, but I’ll keep it, just in case. I do get chilly in hotels.�
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  She’d been thinking about her options the last two weeks. Missing him, aching to hold him, burning to explore his kink. It wasn’t possible for her to move, not with Mama in such bad shape. But if he’d be willing to move…

  It’s the only way we can have a long-term committed relationship.

  Still seething, Jackson stepped into the ballroom. She ought to be easy to find with her glorious red hair, but after a quick scan, he didn’t see her. There were just too many people, and it was incredibly loud despite the size of the room. Waitstaff wove in and out of the groupings of people bearing platters of champagne. The thought of trying to swallow something that sickeningly sweet only made him angrier. Stupid, he knew, but everything had gone wrong this evening. He’d wanted to escort Diana downstairs on his arm and really show her how much he had to offer. He could give her fancy hotels and expensive gowns, whatever she wanted. Everything she wanted.

  Standing in the midst of his associates and colleagues, he knew she wouldn’t want this life. Hell, even he didn’t want this life. Not like this. Especially if it meant he couldn’t have her too.

  When he finally saw her standing off to the side in an alcove with Ann, Donovan and Lilly, he had to pause a moment to regain control. So fierce and gorgeous, she took his breath away. Her legs went on and on, highlighted by the shorter length of the dress. He’d loved the red gown, but suspected she’d go with the black. Less in-your-face than the brilliant red, even if he’d longed to see her standing tall and proud like a scarlet warrior in the midst of the party. From here, he couldn’t make out the delicate petals on her thigh, but he knew they were there. He remembered kissing every ink dot and stroke and then licking his way higher to heaven. He dragged his gaze up toward her face, and fury hit him so hard he recoiled a step.

  She wore a black wrap over her shoulders. Hiding the dragon completely.

  Hiding. Not her. Not his Priestess. Not for him.