by Avery Gale
“Excuse me?” Who the hell was Rio?
“Carli. She left for Rio early this afternoon.”
“Did she know you were ill before she left?” He was betting her sister had not only known Cressi was sick, but Miss Diva Extraordinaire had likely left early to avoid the inconvenience of caring for her lovely younger sibling. How does that damned woman manage to annoy me when we aren’t even on the same continent?
“Well—about that…you see, she never was actually home. Those pictures in the tabloids were misleading—shocking, huh? Anyway, she passed through the airport on her way to catch a private flight. It’s sort of a long story, but she’d helping out an old friend with a last minute project and I told her to go ahead that I’d be fine. She knew I had a cold, that’s why she flew back to the U.S. But then this came up and I couldn’t very well ask her to stay home because I managed to catch the sniffles.”
Pulling back his frustration, he decided it was more important to win the war than this particular battle. When he reached up to brush the backs of his fingers down her cheeks, Parker swore under his breath—damn, she was burning up. He wasn’t a medical expert by any means, but there was no question she was running one hell of a fever. Catching the attention of a nearby clerk, he instructed the young woman to put together an assortment of cold and flu medications, including whatever would reduce a fever. When Cressi opened her mouth to protest, he silenced her with just a look.
Pulling a digital thermometer from the shelf, he yanked it from the box and after a quick scan of the instructions, he slid the end of what looked like a futuristic ray gun over her forehead. When it flashed one hundred three, he wanted to shake her for not taking better care of herself. She’d noted his thunderous expression and he saw her wince as if she thought he might publically berate her—and hell, considering her childhood she probably had thought it was a very real possibility. Adding the device he’d just used and the packaging to the basket Cressi held, he turned to the clerk, “Keep these items and add whatever else she’ll need.” When the young woman placed two more items in the small blue basket, Parker glared at her and barked, “More. Now.” He glanced over at Cressi and was grateful he had because he’d been just in time to see her eyes start rolling up, in the next heartbeat her knees gave way and she would have crashed into the steel shelving if he hadn’t caught her in his arms.
Turning to the surprised cashier, he nodded toward the shelves and shoved the basket into her hands. “Get the stuff my friend needs. I’m going to put her in my car, then I’ll be back to pay you. Be ready.” He didn’t bother to wait for her response, he simply turned on his heel and stalked to the door. Cressida never stirred when the chilly breeze ruffled her hair sending the strands that had worked free from the bun at the back of her neck swirling around in the air like slender angels hovering around her head. She looked so fragile laying in his arms, he shuddered just thinking about what could have happened if he hadn’t happened across her. After settling her in the back seat of his car and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, he secured the car and then dialed Brodie.
“What the fuck, Parker? Asking questions about Cressida and then telling us to fucking stand by? Christ, we’ve been going bat-shit crazy worrying about her.” Parker wanted to laugh, ordinarily Brodie Walsh was as unflappable as he was ruthless. The man’s reputation as Templar Enterprises Group’s legal shark was well earned—he was brilliant and had never met a deal he couldn’t broker to his advantage. Parker had seen Brodie waltz into conference rooms where the parties were all but screaming at one another and within minutes he’d infused his calm into everyone in the room. So the fact he’d resorted to using multiple swear words spoke clearly of how frustrated he was. The puzzle Parker hadn’t worked out yet was if his friend was really that pissed about Parker’s untimely response or something was up with the woman he and Law wanted to claim? Parker being “in the know” when Brodie and Lawton were obviously out of the loop was probably driving Mr. Always-In-Control right over the edge of reason. Under different circumstances Parker would have fucked with his friend just for the sheer fun of it, but a woman’s health was at stake this time so he’d keep it all business.
“I found her in a drugstore—she’s sick as hell. I have her in my car and I’m going back inside to get medications for her then I’ll take her home. I just wanted to know—” wait for it…
“Fuck that. Bring her here. We spoke with her last night—why didn’t she tell us she was sick? Damn it she worked today, too.” Why indeed—that was a question Parker knew his friends would be taking up with their errant little submissive as soon as she was feeling better. Hell, he cringed just thinking about how that conversation was going to go down. Brodie was known among the club’s submissives as a strict but fair Dom. And even though he often saw things as either all black or all white, he was still far from the sadist he feared himself to be. Parker didn’t doubt for one minute Cressi was in for a rather intense lesson on the more delicate points of submission—he’d certainly turn her pretty ass cheeks bright red for pulling this stunt if she belonged to him.
Returning to the car after adding several more items to the colossal collection of boxes and bottles the clerk had already assembled, he set the bag containing enough cold and flu medications to sedate everybody in lower Manhattan on the seat beside him. Parker turned to look over his shoulder at the sleeping woman in the back seat. Her eyes had briefly fluttered open when he’d unlocked the door, her pretty green eyes met his for just a second and a small smile of recognition danced over her lips before she’d slid quietly back into the darkness. He felt a brief surge of something resembling brotherly protectiveness so strong it was almost like a premonition, but he’d shaken off the strange feeling. Looking down at her curled up like a small child made it easy to understand Lawton’s and Brodie’s obsession with her.
When his phone rang through his car speakers Parker was glad he’d thought to turn down the volume. He wasn’t surprised to see Law’s name on the screen. Not bothering with niceties, he answered, “I’ll be in front of the Templar building in five minutes. Bring a blanket with you, she’s out like a light, and her clothes are damp, and she’s shaking like a leaf from chills. And just FYI, her temp was one hundred three when I checked it in the store.” Before the call disconnected, he’d heard both men cursing, and he understood their concern, she really was a sweetheart and he might be frustrated with her for not taking better care of herself—but he was also worried about her.
He’d barely managed to put the car in park before both back doors were jerked open and Parker heard Brodie’s soft cursing alongside Lawton’s sweet whispers as they wrapped Cressi in a soft blanket much like the subbie blankets used at The Knight’s Club. Yeah, Miss Cressida was going to get a lot of tender loving care before she got some not so tender reminders about what it means to surrender yourself into the care of a couple of experienced sexual Dominants.
Chapter Eight
Lawton Hill had gone from furious to panic-stricken so quickly he should have gotten whiplash. He’d listened to Parker describe Cressi’s behavior in the small store as they’d bundled her into the soft blanket from their guest room. He couldn’t help but wonder how sick she’d been when she’d gone into the office that morning, no doubt this was why she’d mentioned her apartment being too warm last night. Law didn’t think she’d known then that she was sick, but she certainly would have known when she woke up this morning.
In his view they had at least two issues to deal with—first, she’d put herself in a very precarious position by going out when she was clearly not capable of doing so safely. One of the most important lessons they were going to teach their independent little sub was that failing to take care of herself would be dealt with in short order. But to be fair, they hadn’t outlined the rules yet, so even though he was annoyed beyond belief, he nor Brodie had a legitimate reason to punish her. And secondly, there was the issue of her not notifying them she needed help. He didn’t doubt
she would sing a very elaborate tune about being an independent woman, but they would be rewriting that little ditty for her very quickly.
Lawton had barely managed to master the digital thermometer during the elevator ride to the top floor and he’d come perilously close to slinging it against the wall. It wasn’t really that complicated, but he’d been so distracted by Brodie undressing Cressida right in the middle of the elevator car he’d had to read the damned directions three times before the words had finally gelled into something useful. The media regularly referred to him as a cyber-genius but he was evidently far better at designing, developing, and implementing applications for multinational companies than he was reading the directions for a device Parker mastered standing in the middle of a mid-town drugstore.
Once he’d finally determined Cressida’s temperature was now one hundred four, he set the sack of goodies Parker had purchased on the dining room table while Brodie carried Cressi down the hall. Good Lord, Lawton guessed their friend had purchased one of everything the small pharmacy had in stock. The physician he planned to call would most certainly asked him what he had available and he wanted to be able to tell her exactly what Parker had handed him as they’d moved Cressida out of his car. Shuddering again at what could have happened if Parker hadn’t found her, Law picked up his phone and did what every man does the first time his woman is sick—he called his mom.
Dr. Lana Hill might be one of New York City’s most prominent cardiologists, but Lawton had always admired her ability to move effortlessly between the role of physician and doting mother/manager of all boyhood medical emergencies with amazing ease, so he’d felt perfectly comfortable calling her for advice. She had immediately focused on answering his questions, but he hadn’t missed the change in her tone when she’d realized he was talking about Cressida. As their executive assistant, Cressida probably had more contact with their families than either he or Brodie did. The four owners of T.E.G. laughed when each of their families remembered Cressida’s birthday—showering her with expensive gifts and elaborate floral arrangements, then promptly blowing off their own sons’ birthdays. When Brodie had teased Cressida about it, she’d smiled sweetly and said, “They like me better,” effectively ending the discussion.
His mom outlined exactly what he needed to do and then admonished him to update her every hour until they’d gotten Cressida’s fever down. Before he’d even gotten the medicines set out, she’d followed up by emailing a detailed outline of everything she’d just said—evidently she hadn’t trusted him to remember. Clearly his mother was less than convinced his scholastic accolades made him worthy of managing Cressida’s care. When Lawton relayed what he’d learned to Brodie, his friend had shaken his head and chuckled, “You know she’s going to try to come over here, right? And she’s probably already calling my dad…and Parker’s mom. She’ll probably email Tristan’s since it’s international.”
“I doubt it, she won’t care about the cost or the time difference. Anything involving their precious Cressi is tantamount to a national emergency. Hell, I’ll be surprised if the mayor doesn’t show up.” Lawton was only half kidding about the mayor, because Cressida had completely charmed the elderly man last year when Lawton’s parents had introduced them at the annual Templar Enterprises Group Charity Ball. That same event was coming up in just a few short weeks and Cressida Walker was going to find her role quite different this year. He and Brodie had already discussed it and they were looking forward to taking her shopping for evening gowns. When he’d learned the dress she’d worn last year was a cast-off from her sister, he’d silently fumed they hadn’t thought to provide her with a clothing allowance for the events she’d been required to attend as part of her job. But the problem was going to be short-lived if he and Brodie had their way, as their submissive she was theirs to cherish and care for, and they intended to fully enjoy both privileges. And when they managed to make her their wife, she’d be theirs to spoil forever.
It took several attempts before he and Brodie managed to rouse Cressida enough to get her to take the cocktail of medications his mother had suggested. He was grateful his mom had explained how difficult the task might be or he would have probably been annoyed by their little sub’s reluctance to cooperate. Damn he would have felt like a first class jerk if he had scolded her for something she couldn’t help. “Sweetheart, just a bit more and then I promise we’ll let you sleep for a bit. Do you want us to let your sister know you are ill?” He knew the two women touched base with one another at least once every day, so any prolonged silence would probably worry Carli.
“Okay, yeah sure. But you’ll have to email her. She is a really, really, long ways away.” She shook her head as if trying to figure something out before her eyes started to slide back closed, “I don’t remember where, but I know it’s far. But don’t tell that other guy on my email anything, okay?” That other guy? What the fuck? “He’s sorta creepy and I don’t know how he got my email.” She’d rattled off her email information before slipping back into sleep. When he glanced at Brodie, Law wasn’t surprised to see the thunderous expression on his face. As soon as they got her settled, Law and Brodie would be taking a very close look at Cressida’s email. Whoever had made their sweet sub uncomfortable hadn’t come up against T.E.G. yet—but they were about to.
*****
Dale Roberts stared at the monitor, seething. Why hadn’t his sub responded? He’d emailed her late last night and he knew she’d opened it before going to work this morning. Why wouldn’t she have responded by now? When he’d checked her work server an hour ago, he’d found where she had signed out of work several hours earlier. She needed to realize what being his sub really meant—he hated the fact he’d have to teach her such a hard lesson right at the beginning of her training, but when she’d left the on-line chat forum, she’d challenged his authority in front of others, and he couldn’t let it slide.
The first day he’d seen her screenname appear on the forum’s roster, he’d felt a connection to her. It had taken him several weeks to lure her out of the shadows, but she’d finally asked the questions he’d known led her to join the small group he administered in his spare time. Of course, spare time was a misnomer since he’d never actually been employed. Why on earth would he want to leave the luxury of his home to spend endless days bored into a stupor listening to men like his father and grandfather drone on about the deteriorating financial condition of their portfolios? He’d found his calling when he’d been fifteen and hacked into his first network, Dale had already created an on-line adult alter-ego so it had been surprisingly simple to parlay the inside information he’d gotten that day into a financial windfall.
As he’d become more proficient his profits had soared, and by the time he’d turned eighteen Dale Roberts had been a multimillionaire whose personal wealth topped his father’s and grandfather’s combined. His dad’s shock had quickly turned to outrage that his son hadn’t shared the information or profits. Both his father and grandfather had threatened to expose him if they weren’t included in future “projects” but since they’d died together in a tragic car accident that had shocked everybody, except Dale, it was now a moot point.
Dale had put his skills to work as soon as he’d seen her screen name pop up on the group’s limited roster—Knights Sub had caught his attention immediately. He rarely ventured outside the penthouse he’d inherited upon his father’s death, but since Dale “worked” from home and three stories of pure decadence overlooking Central Park wasn’t really anything he felt a need to escape from—there was no need to leave.
One of his few outside interests was his membership to The Knight’s Club, the club’s exorbitant membership fees and extensive background checks made it the most exclusive club in the city. That exclusivity also meant what happened at the club stayed at the club because God forbid the tabloids should get wind of the kinks the city’s movers and shakers enjoyed. Seeing Knights Sub had seemed like kismet. Clearly she’d been meant to belong to h
im, and the more he’d learned about her, the more convinced Dale had become Cressida Walker was the submissive he’d worried he would never find.
He’d noticed immediately she wouldn’t interact with the same person more than a couple of times before shutting them out. No doubt she was skittish and even though it was inconvenient, the problem had been far from insurmountable. He’d created multiple accounts and over the course of several months he’d been able to piece together a lot about her personality. She’d rarely given any glimpses into her personal life, but it hadn’t mattered—he’d back-traced her easily and at this point it was entirely possible he knew more about her than she knew about herself.
After determining she worked for Templar Enterprises Group, he’d spent weeks trying to get around the T.E.G. firewall, but in the end, Cressida’s home computer had paved the way. She’d made the mistake of leaving the portal link open overnight, providing him with the perfect window of opportunity. He’d met Lawton Hill at the club and knew the man’s reputation in the world of global technology, was flawless. Damn, Dale would love to brag about breaching their “impervious security” but alerting them would only serve to cut off his access so he’d bide his time for now.
The most valuable piece of information he’d gleaned from her employee file had been her cell phone number. Once he’d had that, it had been child’s play to back into identifying her server and then setting up an elaborate tracking program. He’d tagged her phone and knew her physical location within a few feet at any given moment—well, he knew the location of her phone. Luckily she seemed to be one of those women who equated their phone with safety so she kept the small device with her most of the time. But he wasn’t sure that was the case this evening because she’d signed out of her work computer, but her phone was still showing T.E.G.’s address. As he sat considering the possibilities, his email pinged and the small notification window made him smile. Finally!