The Fidelity World- Nondisclosure

by Ellie Masters

  “How did you compile such a massive list of music?”

  A smirk lifted the corner of his mouth, turning his smile mischievous and crooked. “There are perks to being a prince.”

  “I see,” I said. “Speaking of, how is it that you travel around without a security escort? Aren’t you kind of important? Second in line to the throne and all.”

  “I have a security detail.”

  “I don’t see them.”

  “You’re not supposed to, but they’re all around us.” He pointed to two cars ahead of us and to two behind. “They’re paid for discretion.”

  “I thought they’d be with you all the time.”

  “When I attend public events, they are, but I like to pretend I can live a normal life. It wasn’t much of an issue when I was in school, but when I went to Oxford, Mum and I had a conversation.”

  “Is it different for you?”

  “What?”

  “With your mother? When you’re with her, do you see a mother or the Queen of England?”

  “It’s a little bit of both, to be honest. Being a royal comes with many privileges, but I sacrifice my personal freedom as well. Mum and I carved out an agreement between us as to how long of a leash she would allow.” He pointed to the cars shadowing us. “My freedom is nothing more than a well-crafted illusion.”

  “I’m sorry. I never considered what that must be like. Is that why you chose Infidelity?”

  I’d been so incredibly mired in my own circumstances that I hadn’t stopped to consider his motivations. I’d assumed he took advantage of his wealth to buy what he wanted, which he had, except the reasons behind it became clearer as I reflected on what he wasn’t saying.

  The muscles of his jaw clenched. “Have you Googled me at all?”

  I shook my head. “I haven’t had a chance. Ms. Flores informed me this morning that we’d been matched, and next I knew, you met me on that plane. Should I?”

  “It’s up to you, but let’s just say, I’m not the picture-perfect prince, and there is a very good reason I’m taking a year abroad.”

  “Oh?” My ears perked up. “Some royal scandal?” I teased, relaxing into our easy banter.

  “Truth?” He placed his hand on my thigh and gave a light squeeze. “I’m known to be a bit of a playboy. I suppose it’s as much a badge of honor for me as it is for the women who wind up in my bed.”

  “Oh,” I said, placing a hand to my belly.

  The terms of my contract with Infidelity had been crystal clear on the issue of monogamy, but I didn’t think the same went for him. In fact, Ms. Flores had mentioned married men used their services.

  News would spread about our relationship, and I would have to live with that for the rest of my life. I’d be the American fling. Just one of many women he dated through the year.

  “I know what’s going through your head right now,” he said.

  “You do?”

  “Hear me out.”

  “Okay.”

  “When you Google me—and please don’t do it while I’m sitting beside you because it’s embarrassing.”

  “Must have been bad.”

  “Well, I was headed to a charity event, and I had a new date. She was eager to show me what she could do, and I was arrogant enough not to stop her aspirations to make an impression on a prince. It wasn’t the first time I’d had sex in the back of a car, but I never expected what came next.”

  “And what was that?”

  He shrugged. “She went down on me, and I thought we’d have plenty of time. All my regular drivers are well schooled in my habits.”

  “I sense a but coming.”

  “Right. This was a new driver. He was supposed to wait for me to tell him he could pull up to the event.”

  “Oh no!” I squealed, loving where this was going because I had a good idea.

  “But,” he said, dragging out the word, “this driver only knew to take us to the event. My date was going down, and my driver pulled up to the venue. Now, if you’ve never seen these things, there’s a red carpet and tons of photographers, and the drivers don’t get out of the cars. They have people standing by the curb for that. So, this girl was bobbing up and down…”

  “Oh my God…” I said, laughing hard. “They didn’t open the door, did they?”

  “That’s exactly what happened, and there were hundreds of photographers. Needless to say, Mum was not pleased. That conversation was one held between me and the Queen of England.”

  “I’m sure it was.”

  “We decided it would be best if I took a year off, so I came to stay with a good friend of mine in New York.”

  “Wouldn’t the paparazzi follow? I know we’re not as into the royal family as England, but there is still a lot of interest.”

  “You didn’t recognize me at the club.”

  “It was dark, and I was more interested in your accent and the things you were saying.”

  “You wanted my body,” he said, teasing me.

  “I did.” I’d wanted a lot more than that, but I’d chickened out at the last minute. Those desires lay inside me, dormant until he’d arrived, but I didn’t have the strength to follow through.

  “Well, Mum thought America would be a good place for me to kind of disappear while the scandal died down. I’m under strict instructions to behave. Instead of a new girl in my bed each night, I’ve hung out in different clubs, ones which cater to certain tastes but aren’t too risqué that they’d draw attention. They are places I can be seen in while tasting a bit of the lifestyle and not inciting a paparazzi event.”

  “Like Club Infinity?”

  Club Infinity created a gray zone for the lifestyle-curious to mingle with those much more adventurous. It was what had drawn me to the club and ultimately brought us together.

  “If it ever got out that I was involved in anything other than a normal relationship, it would be another scandal, one I don’t think I’d survive. Mum is not against yanking me home and seeing me settled down.”

  “An arranged marriage?”

  “It’s not called that, but that’s essentially what it would be.”

  “And you have no say?”

  “In who I marry?”

  “Right.”

  “I can date whomever I choose. I can even propose to whomever I want, but an odd bit of royal prerogative remains. The Queen must approve who I marry.”

  “Sounds outdated.”

  “Those rules govern my life. It’s a law actually. My mother would never force me to do anything I truly abhorred, but her intent couldn’t be clearer. I’m on a reprieve after that last scandal. I can’t afford another.”

  “Which is where Infidelity comes in?”

  “Correct.”

  “Do your bodyguards know about it?”

  He shook his head. “I’m bound by the same nondisclosure agreements as you. The only people who know I’m a client are the employees at Infidelity, my sponsor, and you.”

  “Did you have a chance to speak with Infidelity?”

  “I did.”

  My shoulders slumped. I couldn’t afford for this to fall apart even if I had a backup plan.

  “So, what happens next?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Will they terminate our agreement?”

  He wanted a fully compliant submissive, and I’d demonstrated more than once that I was not that person.

  He gave me a long, hard look. “I have no intention of terminating our agreement.”

  “You don’t?”

  “Not in the slightest.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing. I spent a lot of time thinking while you were with your brother.”

  “And?”

  “Do you want to end this?”

  “I…” I had no idea what I wanted.

  The honesty we shared with his silly game, while scary, had also been exhilarating. I’d never connected with anyone on that level before. It’s like we’d shared hidden piece
s of ourselves with each other. Only each other. I wanted to explore that more, because despite what brought me here, I couldn’t ignore my growing fascination with Richard, or the butterflies dancing in my belly every time he looked at me.

  The terms scared me. Despite barely knowing him, I’d been more truthful in the past twelve hours with Richard than I had ever been with anyone. That included Freddy. Richard and I talked about things. Scary things. But we discussed our fears, and there was no way to deny the chemistry sizzling between us.

  “How are you feeling?”

  There was that question again. There were only two answers I was permitted to give, but I chose an alternative. “Terrified.”

  “Now, that is an answer I respect.”

  Chapter 22: Tower

  Richard

  There hadn’t been a little bit of thought on my part; there’d been a whole hell of a lot of soul-searching. While Rowan had visited, I’d called David. I’d told him very little, not certain how comfortable I felt about sharing the difficulties Rowan and I faced. Instead, I’d asked about his arrangement with Evelyn.

  “Up and down,” he’d said. “We fight and make up like any other couple.”

  Their relationship was real, he’d said, and he’d urged caution with the beginnings of mine. Maybe he’d sensed my frustration, but he hadn’t pressed for details.

  Our conversation had left me to think about exactly what I wanted from Rowan. That, more than anything, had been my takeaway.

  Rowan and I would be together for a year. Not all of that would revolve around sex—very little in fact. My expectations were not aligned with reality, and I had taken a long, hard look at what had brought me to Infidelity. I wanted something uniquely mine. Not something that would find its way into the press. Not something I had to share with the world.

  Not once had I been able to date without the media speculation that followed. With the high visibility my romantic entanglements brought, it felt as if I dated the world rather than a woman. News of Rowan would get out, but Infidelity had given me something no one could take away. The bond I planned to forge would be something known only to the two of us, a connection I’d been craving for far too long.

  “Caution,” David had said. “Approach the first few weeks with caution, and expect a few bumps along the way.”

  When it came down to it, other than limited online research on my part, I knew next to nothing about being a Dom. Given Rowan’s complete lack of experience, everything pointed to disaster if we continued. That alone was reason for caution.

  When I’d contacted Infidelity, it had been with the intent to call the arrangement off, but Ms. Flores had expressed the same message as David. Infidelity fostered a relationship and wasn’t an escort service. There would be highs, lows, and long stretches of daily living to break up the other more exciting parts. She’d encouraged me to take a step back and get to know Rowan before placing too many demands. Great advice even if it wasn’t what I’d wanted to hear.

  Contractually, I was bound to complete the year with Rowan. I didn’t have to spend it with her, but the payments would be made.

  Why walk away? Even if we never explored our darker desires, there was no way to deny our mutual attraction.

  After we traded our favorite songs, I parked outside a luxury boutique. Earlier, I’d noticed the upscale shop and spoken with the owner.

  Rowan leaned forward, peering at the glowing sign as I cut the ignition.

  “Clara’s Boutique?” She turned to me, her eyes widening. “What are we doing here?”

  The front windows of Clara’s Boutique displayed fashionable women’s wear—dresses and pantsuits suitable for a wide range of social venues. Tucked into the back of the store, Clara sold an impressive array of lingerie. Anticipating the types of appearances we would make, this would be a perfect way to spend our evening. With one significant twist.

  “Shopping,” I pronounced without elaborating further.

  “You’re taking me shopping?”

  “No. I’m shopping.”

  “At a woman’s boutique?”

  “Yes, at a woman’s boutique.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “What’s not to get? I want to buy you something to wear to dinner tonight and a few outfits for later.”

  “Sooo,” she said, drawing out the word, “you’re taking me shopping.” She asserted her original statement.

  I couldn’t help but snicker. Reaching over, I took her hand in mine. Her hand was so tiny, it barely filled half of my palm.

  “No. I am shopping. You’re accompanying me. Ready for the rules?”

  There was a slight catch in her breath. David had mentioned being cautious and feeling our way through these first days. He knew nothing about my desires but had a lot to say about the first week he and Evelyn had been together.

  “Things,” he’d said, “were awkward.”

  Thoughts of being bought and paid for had nearly destroyed them. After a week, he’d said, that had receded into the background, and they’d found their rhythm. I wanted to do that with Rowan, but I wasn’t willing to forgo my desires. What I’d learned in the last few hours was, there was more to dominance than taking control in the bedroom.

  “Rules?” Her left eyebrow arched.

  I sensed uncertainty layered with excitement and took that as a good thing.

  “There really is only one rule. I picked out several outfits. You tell the hostess inside your size, and you’ll model them for me.”

  “That’s the rule?” She looked confused.

  “No. That’s the explanation. The rule is, you have no say in what I purchase, and you’ll wear what I buy to the events I choose.”

  “And if I don’t like what you buy?”

  “Whether you love or hate them doesn’t matter. I’m going to buy what I like, and you’re going to let me.”

  “Even if I hate it?”

  “How could you hate something I think is beautiful?”

  Her cheeks flushed. “Well, when you put it that way…”

  “Are you game?”

  “Do I have a choice?” She sounded hesitant.

  “You always have a choice.”

  “And if I say no?”

  I shrugged. “I’ll be disappointed, but we’ll continue with our evening. Reservations are at eight.”

  She bit her lower lip and glanced at the window displays, looking uncertain.

  I would give a million dollars to know what was going on inside her head. Would she say yes because it sounded like fun? Would she refuse because she didn’t trust my taste? Or would she agree because it pleased me, and if she did, would it lead to more?

  “Do I get to at least tell you if I like it?”

  I shook my head. This needed to be absolute. I decided. She did not.

  “No, you have to trust me not to dress you in a sack.”

  “You wouldn’t!”

  “If all I had was a sack, I’d keep you locked away.”

  She giggled. Then, she wrapped her arms around her midsection and bent over.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Images of you locking me in a tower. All I can think of is, Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.”

  “Oh,” I said, getting the gist. “I guess it’s almost as funny as leaving behind a slipper while running down the stairs.”

  Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my God, that actually happened!”

  “It did.”

  “Wow, how many times has that happened to you?”

  “Only the one.”

  “Well, if you promise not to lock me in a tower, I promise not to run off again.”

  I pulled her to me. “Be careful, my sweet Rowan, because I certainly won’t be pleased if you do.”

  Her eyes widened, and her mouth parted as the undercurrent of my words sank in. We were doing this. Perhaps not in the way I’d imagined, but we were definitely forging our path.

  I swept in for a kiss. Nothing slow and gentle,
I meant to devastate.

  She would be mine.

  Chapter 23: Dais

  Rowan

  There was no one inside, except a sweet woman in her mid- to late-fifties named Clara. She greeted Richard with a smile and a flushing of her cheeks when he kissed the back of her hand. For me, she didn’t offer anything more than a pinching of her brows, a twisting of her lips, and a head-to-toe assessment as she sized me up.

  Richard crossed his arms and took a few steps back. Chin to chest, he mirrored Clara’s pose.

  “She’s beautiful,” the woman spoke with a light Georgian accent.

  “Yes, she is.” The words came out in a possessive growl.

  “Sweetie,” she said, finally acknowledging me, “what size are you?”

  My gaze flicked to Richard, and I swallowed to calm the nervous flutter in my belly. “Size six.”

  Her lips pressed together. “Hmm, you look more like a four.” She pinched at my shirt and tugged on the waistband of my jeans. “You prefer looser-fitting clothes, but I bet you can go down a size.”

  “Okay.” I shifted my gaze back to Richard.

  Too many questions flicked in my mind, and I resisted the urge to let them loose. I held my tongue because the stern look on Richard’s face gave me pause. This was either a test or his way of setting the tone—or perhaps it was both. I had a choice to make. Would I follow where he led?

  Submission wasn’t something I thought about—at least, not until that night at Club Infinity. Maybe it had been the music, the dancers, or Richard’s overwhelming presence, but something dark and delicious spoke to me. I could choose to follow my desires or run from them. What do I want?

  I came to a decision as the saleswoman disappeared.

  Closing the distance between us, I peeled apart his arms and snuggled against the warmth of his chest. “I trust you not to put me in a sack.”

  His hand cupped the back of my head, and his fingers trailed in my hair, combing through my gentle curls. He gave a soft laugh, a low rumble vibrating in his chest.