To Master and Defend (The Dungeon Fantasy Club Book 2)

by Anya Summers

  She had more than just herself to think of, and would make her case with her sister for taking over their parents' room. It was far enough away from Zoey's that, right after the baby arrived, Ophelia wouldn't have to worry about the baby waking her up. There was enough room in it so that she could put a bassinet next to the bed, and a changing table.

  For the baby. Her baby.

  She still couldn't seem to wrap her brain around it.

  The cab pulled into a long circular drive at the top of one of those rolling hills she had so been admiring on the drive. Mullardoch Manor wasn't a manor but a freaking castle, with turrets and all. No wonder her sister didn't want to come home. She had the chance to play princess. What woman would truly turn an opportunity like that down?

  The moment of truth now upon her, Ophelia alighted from the vehicle, paying the driver, and dragging her suitcase up the steps. Taking a deep breath, she rang the bell. A blonde woman with mile long legs answered the door wearing a maid's outfit.

  "How may I help you?" She glanced at Ophelia's suitcase and studied her with a we-aren't-buying-it-no-matter-what-you're-selling kind of attitude.

  "Yes, I'm Ophelia Mills, and am here to see my sister Zoey. Is she available?"

  At the mention of Zoey, a smile spread on the blonde's face, transforming her demeanor into one of welcoming warmth. She knew Zoey. Her sister's infectious spirit tended to have that effect on people.

  "I just served her and the Master lunch in the library. Come in. Just leave your luggage near the door and I will have the lad bring it up."

  "Thank you," Ophelia murmured, leaving the bright sunlight and entering a world of understated elegance. The woman had called her sister's boyfriend 'the Master'. Was he staunchly rabid about formal titles? That didn't bode well for her sister. Even if Zoey tended to be uptight, she was a force of nature and bowed to no man.

  "Just this way, please." The maid gestured for her to follow.

  Ophelia let her lead, surveying the grand marble staircase and noble artwork. This was a home fit for a king. She imagined Miss Erstwhile would have felt at home here, while Ophelia seemed like an inept school girl. She didn't do fancy, she was more the small seaside cottage type than grandiose home. That was why she loved their little house in Burbank with its eclectic design, and small, homey feel.

  The large mullioned windows streamed sunlight onto the second floor as they tread toward a room at the end. At the white door, the maid knocked.

  "Come in," a deep male voice laced with a Scottish brogue said.

  The maid opened the door into Ophelia's every fantasy. The library itself was an impressive masterpiece, with shelf upon shelf lined with books. She wondered if there were any first editions. Her fingers itched to touch them. She was startled from her musings.

  "Lia!" her sister's voice cried.

  Ophelia turned toward her and it was like they hadn't seen each other in ages. Zoey had scooted out of her chair and was flinging her arms around her before she could stop her. Ophelia closed her eyes, feeling the burn of unshed tears, and hugged her back. This was why, as much as she loved Lucy, their friend wasn't Zoey. Ophelia hadn't realized how much she had needed just a hug from her sister. It wasn't until this moment that she truly felt like she could do this pregnancy and become a mom.

  "What are you doing here? Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" Zoey chattered away. "I'm being so rude. Ophelia, I have someone I want you to meet."

  She tugged her across the room. Ophelia trailed behind her sister, finally noticing the startlingly gorgeous man seated at the table. He reminded Ophelia of what she had once believed knights in shining armor would look like. He was sturdily built and finely hewn, a throwback to another generation, when men were a little rougher, more physical on a daily basis, even with the sheen of sophistication he wore like a leather glove. She suspected he could discard it when the mood suited him. And he looked at her sister with such love; it sucker punched her directly through the chest.

  Love was not something Ophelia had counted on. With just a single look at him, her campaign to bring her sister home had taken a ghastly turn, with higher stakes she hadn't even fathomed until now. Even if she could convince Zoey to come home, would her sister thank her for her intrusion or hate her for it?

  "Declan, this is my sister, Ophelia." Zoey gestured her way, presenting her boyfriend with a ta-da flourish. Her sister was beaming up at him, glowing with such emotion in her gaze that it knocked the wind out of Ophelia's sails. Coming here had been a mistake. She knew that as assuredly now as she did that her sister was happier than she'd seen her since before their parents had died.

  Declan stood, a toweringly large man, his eyes warm and welcoming, as he pulled Ophelia into a great bear hug. Stunned, she hugged him back in a reflexive way, and then retreated. His arm slipped around her sister's waist, and she noticed Zoey sigh under her breath.

  "Welcome to my home. You are welcome to stay with us for as long as you like," Declan stated, a generous smile on his lips.

  "Thank you. Zoey, I was hoping we could have a chance to talk," Ophelia replied, clasping her shaking hands. What had seemed like such a good idea at the time had been a surefire miscalculation on her part. She should have just called her sister, not flown five thousand miles. Although… seeing was believing, and she wasn't sure a simple conversation would have convinced Ophelia of what she was witnessing in the flesh. Her sister was in love.

  "I'm sure you both will want to catch up. Ophelia you are likely famished from your travels, why don't you join us for lunch? I have a business meeting in an hour, and then the two of you should have plenty of time to catch up," Declan said.

  Realizing that she wasn't going to be able to drag her sister out of the room without a barrage of questions or a fight, Ophelia conceded defeat for the moment and nodded her head. Her nearly non-existent appetite picked that moment to rear its head and remind her that she'd eaten nothing more substantial than crackers in the last twelve hours. "That would be nice."

  Zoey studied her with a funny expression clouding her face. Could she tell that Ophelia was pregnant? She was only seven weeks and, other than her boobs being incredibly sore, her body had not started changing. At least not on the outside—the inside was another matter entirely.

  "Declan, I reviewed the schematics of the place." A male voice resonated deep in Ophelia's chest. Her hands shook as she turned her head.

  "Tobias, come in, we were all about to have lunch. Why don't you join us?" Declan responded jovially, nodding toward the table.

  "Sorry, I didn't realize you had company," the interloper said and then his amber gaze zeroed in on Ophelia. She knew that voice. She'd dreamt about the deep bass as he'd shouted his release in triumph and spilled his seed inside her. His seed that was now bearing fruit inside her succinctly fertile womb.

  The room spun. How was he here? What the hell was happening to her life? Ever since that fateful night, it had been on a downward spiral into disaster. She couldn't focus, couldn't think about anything but him and that night.

  A light of shocked recognition lit his gaze and an almost feral smile spread across his hauntingly handsome face. He was as gorgeous as ever, in jeans and a black sweater that fit over his muscled chest like butter over bread. The live wire connection that had seemed to exist between them that night zapped to life with all the force of an atom bomb to her system. Memories from their encounter flooded her already over-wired brain. Ophelia did something then that she'd thought the women of the eighteenth century were silly for doing in all her literature books—but which she now understood on a level she'd never even comprehended before, and promptly fainted.

  Chapter Three

  Son of a bitch!

  It was his little wounded bird.

  Tobias couldn't have been more shocked if his buddy had leveled a gun at his head and taken a shot. He had searched high and low for his little bird after she had stealthily slipped out of his life. Normally, he didn't get bent out of sh
ape over a one-night stand. In his line of work, they tended to happen, and he was always happy to oblige a willing beauty.

  But this little bird, with her big, trusting, brown eyes, and bow-shaped mouth… when she had whispered her pleas with a fragile gasp that night, he'd been lost and had willingly drowned in her. He hadn't expected the fire to blaze as hot as it had between them, nor had he thought that once he had tasted her it was not nearly going to be enough for him. When he'd woken without so much as a name, he'd cursed the very heavens.

  He couldn't help the smile as it spread across his face. Of all the places in the world he thought he'd bump into her, this isolated little blip in Scotland was the last one he would have figured.

  She gasped when she looked at him; her lips formed a perfect O, and then her eyes rolled back into her head. He sprang into action as she slumped. Declan reached her first, catching her slight form as it slid to the floor before her head hit the ground.

  "Lia! Oh my god, what happened?" Zoey exclaimed as Declan lifted her into his arms, carrying her to one of the nearby sofas. Tobias wanted to snatch his little bird from the other man's arms and had to force himself to remain calm. Seeing her in distress brought his every protective urge crashing to the forefront. Then Declan laid her down gently and Zoey was at her side, checking her pulse. The sight of the girl on another couch flashed the memories he'd relived nightly since. He had no idea why but they kept his monsters at bay, calming his PTSD episodes more than anything else he'd tried since returning stateside.

  Lia. He rolled the name silently over in his mouth like a benediction. It suited her.

  "Come on, Lia, don't do this to me, I need you to be my maid of honor," Zoey said, as Declan handed her a moist linen napkin, and she pressed the cool compress over her sister's brow.

  Time seemed suspended as Tobias awaited her return. It bothered him that she had fainted. He wanted to cart her away, check her vitals, and then care for her. She'd become his obsession in the intervening weeks since that auspicious night.

  Lia's eyes fluttered open, clouded with confusion and dismay at finding herself lying on a strange couch. She heaved in a deep breath as recollection blossomed in her gaze. Her panic was evident in her fluttered movements. Why was she so freaked out over seeing him?

  "Easy. Jesus, Lia, talk about scaring me half to death. First you show up unannounced, and then you faint—honestly, sis, I don't know what's gotten into you," Zoey exclaimed.

  Sis? As in the sister of one of his best friends' girl? Tobias's body hummed, his wounded bird was not getting away from him this time. A pretty, rose blush spread over her cheeks and down her throat, flooding her system with color as she seemed to settle and stabilized herself. He remembered that flush had spread over her apple sized breasts when she was aroused. His mouth watered at the imagery. She had these dusky rose nipples that just begged for a man's lips to pay them homage.

  He couldn't rush this, as much as he wanted to scoop her up off the couch and question her as to why she'd left the way she did that night and then pick up where they'd left off, naked and in a hazy orgasmic afterglow, he had to take it slowly. He had a feeling Declan would understand, from one Dom to the next, but Zoey would likely try to interfere, which would make things sticky.

  "Sorry, I've barely slept over the last twenty-four hours and I think the travel caught up with me," Lia confessed, chewing her bottom lip. Tobias remembered sucking on those plump luscious lips, plundering her sweet mouth with his tongue as he'd hammered his cock inside her tight sheath.

  "That's something you and your sister seem to have in common, love, not knowing when to quit." Declan chortled, shaking his head and retreating a few steps to give them both some space.

  "Taught her everything I know," Zoey quipped, winking at Declan over her shoulder. The tenderness in his buddy's gaze toward Zoey awed Tobias a little. He'd never expected to see Declan so head over heels over a woman, but anyone with half a brain could see how deeply he loved his little sub.

  "Figures. How are you feeling? Well enough for a light repast?" Declan quirked a brow at Lia.

  Lia worried her hands, flexing and clenching them nervously as she rose into a seated position. What was she so concerned about? So she'd fainted, big deal. The reason for her faint did bother Tobias slightly, since she'd taken one look at him and fainted dead away. "Maybe I should just come back later. I didn't mean to cause such a commotion," Lia said.

  Oh no you don't, little escapee! You're not getting away from me that easily.

  She still hadn't looked in his direction, but he'd fix that. He wouldn't allow her to shy away from him again. As of the moment he'd discovered her here, he knew he would have her once more writhing underneath him. The wheels of a plan were turning in his mind, he would be waging a campaign to learn everything he could about his little bird as he made his move to claim her. And he might not let her go when he was finished. The Dom part of him already recognized her as his. It was just taking the rest of him a little longer to figure that out.

  "I'd be up for a meal if you don't mind adding another person," Tobias injected, directing his gaze toward Lia. Her back was to him were she was seated on the couch, but he noticed her flinch. It was so minute that, if he hadn't been studying her reaction to his comment, he would have missed the involuntary movement. Then Lia stood with her sister's assistance, wobbling slightly as she regained her footing.

  "Absolutely, we'd love to have you. You've already met my Zoey. And this," Declan nodded to Lia, "is her sister, Ophelia Mills. Ophelia, meet Tobias Ford, he and I have been friends for quite some time."

  Tobias was already in movement as he stepped forward, holding his hand out to Lia almost as a dare. Would she take the offered hand? "It's nice to meet you, Ophelia, or should I call you Lia, which do you prefer?"

  She finally turned her chestnut gaze toward his, and hesitated before placing her trembling hand in his large palm. The sweetness of victory swamped him as currents of fire raced along his system at touching her again. He'd yearned for her in the dark of night. He curled his fingers around the delicate bones, rubbing his thumb over her soft skin in an effort to soothe her with his touch.

  "It's nice to meet you, Mister Ford. My friends call me Lia." She withdrew her hand with a light tug, shifting her gaze away from his, and effectively attempting to shut him out. And, in an evasive way, pointing out that she didn't consider him to be her friend.

  Tobias knew she had felt something that night. He'd let her play her little game, but there was never a challenge he didn't conquer. He'd wait until he could get her alone before launching his full intentions. She wanted to be formal; he wasn't going to allow that. Not after what they had shared.

  Declan called down to the kitchens, asking his cook to prepare for two more.

  "What's this you found with the plans?" Declan inquired.

  "Let me show you." Tobias trailed over to the desk and unrolled the detailed house map. "You want to shore up reinforcing doors, here… and here." He pointed on the map, all the while keeping an eye on Lia as she and Zoey talked quietly at the dining table.

  "I didn't think my security was that bad."

  "It's not, you have a decent enough system in place, but with the advances in technology in recent years, it's fairly outdated. And you did mention that you wanted to add a door to the south entrance of the club to keep the clubgoers from encroaching on your home territory," Tobias replied.

  "With the plans to invite so many guests in a few short weeks, I want it blocked off from anyone just being able to go there willy-nilly. And I want to change the lift so that only those with a key code can access the lower level. The last thing I need is a one of my uptight board members stumbling into the dungeon unawares. It would cause me more headaches than I want," Declan said.

  "Understandable." As the owner of one of the club extensions in Los Angeles, Tobias knew how difficult it was at times to keep the balance between his work life and club life. While he had a competent managemen
t team at the club, which left him free to run his security consultation and installation business, if he wasn't careful, it could muck up his whole operation.

  The clients who hired him for his expertise in protecting their homes and businesses, didn't need his sexual preferences to interfere with their decision making. It was actually how he and Declan had met years ago—when he'd been stationed in Germany before his deployment to Iraq, they both had ended up at the same BDSM club, and had stayed in contact through the years.

  So now one of Declan's private firms was the silent partner and registered owner of his Los Angeles club, thereby granting them both anonymity.

  Declan's cook, Mrs. Stewart, rolled in a cart with warm roast beef, and his mouth watered. He needed all the protein he could get for what was sure to be an eventful night. The two of them convened their meeting, tabling further discussion until after lunch, joining the women for the meal. Seeing the sisters together, Tobias saw how similar they were, although Zoey's features were more pronounced, almost sharp in contrast to Lia, and her hair was shades darker. Lia's facial features were softer, her cheekbones less pronounced, her body lithe and firm, her lighter chestnut hair falling in soft waves to her shoulders.

  "Have Sherry make up the Queen Victoria room for Zoey's sister, if you would, Mrs. Stewart," Declan said.

  "Certainly, sir." The plump matron smiled, nodding her head as she left them to their meal.

  All throughout lunch, Lia avoided glancing at him—just him, in fact, as she detailed the latest news from home about someone named Lucy. Seated on his left, she focused her attention on her sister and Declan, never once turning her regard his way.

  "Since you're here, Lia, I was going to wait to tell you, but Declan… well, you see…" Zoey blushed, stammering a bit under her sister's rapt scrutiny.