BOUND: Together

by Cynthia Dane

  I was still too insulted to have a rational conversation. “You’d be okay with that? Me still dating him?”

  “Not really. I think you’re a terrible match.”

  “Thanks.”

  “But it makes my job easier when he dates women who know the truth. Less we have to keep hiding from them.”

  “Like you hid it from Brooke for three years?”

  He didn’t seem surprised that she had told me. “Some of my team’s finest work. Eric made sure she didn’t find out until he was ready. It’s too bad that didn’t work out better.”

  So Brooke was a good match, and I was trash. I should have suspected. “How many women have you kept this from?”

  “Not many. He doesn’t date that often for obvious reasons.”

  “What about the escorts?”

  “So you know about them.”

  “Of course I do. There was one in San Francisco, and there are rumors going around that Eric Mann dates escorts.”

  “Rumors, huh?” Sherman pulled out a small pad and pencil from his inside pocket. I assumed he jotted down a reminder to look into those rumors. RIP, Aiden. “You can ask him about them. I only facilitate their security.”

  “Oh, so you have judgments about me, but not them.”

  “You’re not a high-class sex worker I can blackmail into keeping her mouth shut. But if you do have any skeletons in your closet, I’ll find out about it by the end of the weekend.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Not even on your father’s side of the family? Lewis Chen, right? Vice president of Gold Plains Bank in Taipei, Taiwan? Bankers always have scandals.”

  Of course he knew that little bit about me. The man probably had been running endless background checks on me since I was hired. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t keep in contact.”

  “Too bad. Would make blackmailing you even easier.”

  I held myself closer to my door. The car turned into the Summer Villa driveway, and my stomach lurched up my throat.

  Chapter 28

  NATALIE

  Eric awaited me in the master suite.

  Or at least I think it was Eric.

  Under Alpha security status, Eric could wear whatever he wanted. Show off whatever part of his body he wanted. It meant he had maximum comfort with his body and the people around him.

  I assumed that’s what it meant, because I was so confused.

  He wore a pair of form-fitting black yoga pants and a pink V-neck T-shirt. I had to hold in my breath when I walked into the room, Sherman right behind me and relieving the other bodyguard on duty. “I’ve got it from here, Nick,” he said. Whoever Nick was, he made himself scarce for the rest of the night.

  “Natalie.”

  The tone Eric had used since I’d known him was also gone. Instead, I was treated to the feminine flicker I had occasionally heard when he let his guard down.

  His clothes couldn’t mask what he looked like, either. I had no idea those tailored suits had been particularly tailored to make him look more masculine. They hid his hips and thighs. They covered the parts of his chest that his binders couldn’t.

  He wasn’t wearing any kind of binder now. In fact, that was most definitely a standard Victoria’s Secret sports bra beneath his thin T-shirt. If I never noticed his breasts earlier, I definitely did now.

  And his hips. And his long, slender legs and the sleight bare feet digging into the carpet.

  The only familiar thing was his hair. Even his face looked different. Later, I learned he wore a minimum amount of makeup that contoured his face to appear more traditionally masculine.

  It was like he had removed a costume and become someone else. His presence and scent were the same. They begged me to go to him, but everything else kept me away.

  I was still too confused to process anything.

  “Natalie,” he said again, standing up. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m the one who should apologize.” Why couldn’t I make eye contact with him? Was I afraid of seeing the real him behind his eyes? “That was rude of me.”

  “Rude, but understandable. I’ll pour you a drink. Guessing you don’t want champagne anymore, so I hope you like vodka.”

  I sank onto an ottoman near the sofa. Sherman approached his employer, watching him pour some straight vodka over ice at the wet bar. “Do you need anything else?”

  “Privacy is what we need.”

  “I’ll be right outside the door.” He didn’t look at me when he left, closing the door behind him.

  The glass entered my hand, although I couldn’t tell you who controlled my body. Demons, maybe. Merciful angels. Definitely not my own brain.

  I drank half that glass in one gulp. It burned. I welcomed the burn.

  Eric sat back down on the sofa, his legs spread open and his elbows against his knees. His own glass dangled between his legs. His masculine posture could no longer fool me, however. It may have been natural for him at that point in his life, but he had trained himself to sit like that. Not me. I kept my legs properly together and my ankles crossed. You would’ve thought I was the one who went to boarding school.

  “So,” Eric broke the silence with the rattling of ice in his glass, “I’m female. Any other questions or concerns?”

  “Are you…” I stopped.

  “You can ask me anything.”

  I inhaled the rest of my drink. “Are you trans?” I asked my question through the final burn making its way down my esophagus.

  “I don’t know.”

  Oh, boy. That was not a helpful answer. “Then what the fuck is going on?”

  “It’s a very long story.”

  “I’m wide awake.”

  He sighed. “Suppose I owe you the main points. First, the obvious. I was born female and have not modified my body in any way. Everything else was modified over the years.”

  “Everything else?”

  “My identity. It was not something I chose, but here I am, still doing it.”

  “But you’re not… you said…”

  “You’re one of the smartest women I’ve ever met, Natalie. I’m sure you can figure out what happened.”

  The first thing I remembered were the two pictures of him and his sister. The one on his desk at work, and the one by his bedside. In both, one twin was dressed in stereotypical boy clothes while the other was in the usual frilly dress.

  All I knew was that one had died. Erica Mann, trampled to death at the tender age of five. Her mother was never the same again. Her brother grew up to succeed his father when he died. A father who once infamously said, “Aside from what they contribute to a man’s household, all women truly are useless,” and riled up half of America’s feminist groups.

  “Twenty-five years ago,” Eric said, “a little girl named Erica died, and I was never the same again.”

  He was right. I am smart. I’m so fucking smart that I was hired to be his personal intern right out of grad school. I was smart enough to charm him even after he had already seduced me.

  Yeah. What had happened was glaringly obvious. Occam’s Razor, right? The most obvious answer is probably the correct one, no matter how ridiculous and cruel it sounded.

  “Oh my God.” One of those photos flashed before my eyes when I looked at Eric Mann. Or at least the person legally known as Eric Mann.

  Jesus. Fuck.

  “You’re Erica.”

  He didn’t flinch. “I told you. Erica died.”

  “So Eric could live?”

  “The easiest way to explain it…” He wandered to the other side of the room, staring out the window overlooking a forested park. “My brother died. I took his place. Erica died, like the papers said.”

  “Holy shit. You’re Erica.” Another thought overcame me. “You’re a woman.”

  He looked over his shoulder. “Suppose so. I’ve never been given a chance to figure that out, really. Like I said, it wasn’t my decision.”

  “Who’s, then?” Who the fuck would do something like
that to a child? Who made the decision to say the other child died? Took the survivor and made her take her brother’s place?

  “My father’s of course.” Eric turned. His feminine physique entranced me, but I can’t say in the best ways. “His grand scheme to make sure the line of succession stayed patriarchal. He couldn’t stand the thought of losing his son. His daughter, though, was disposable.”

  “So he turned you into your brother?”

  “I suppose so. I barely remember my life before then. I’ve been raised male ever since.”

  Jesus. Christ!

  Can you understand how warped my head was that night? Not only was I shocked by the secret Eric carried with him every day of his life, but to find out he was his sister…

  No. That’s not how it worked. He was born Erica, but somewhere along the way the power to make choices was yanked from him. That included the choice to keep his name. His identity. Erica could die, but Eric had to live for the sake of the family’s outdated views. They had the money and resources to make it happen, so they did.

  “So now you know the big scandal behind my family’s name. If it gets out that not only am I female, but my father did this to me, my whole company could be ruined. People are not so forgiving. They misdirect their anger. If investors pull out from disgust, we’re all ruined. That includes the tens of thousands of people working for me. That includes most of the charities I personally keep funded. I can’t let that happen. I don’t want to take so many innocent people down with me.”

  “Even if it means sacrificing your identity?”

  “What identity? I’ve long learned to let it go. This is the life and role I have been given. I don’t take my position lightly. If living as a man lets me enact change on this level, then I’ll embrace it. But… it complicates quite a bit of my personal life. Like romance, for example.”

  I held my aching head in my hands. “Were you ever going to tell me? Or were you going to withhold it from me like you did Brooke?”

  “Ah, so she told you?”

  “Yes.”

  Pain overcame Eric’s face. True, battered pain that almost broke my heart right there. “I’ve borne a lot of grief because of the life I’ve been living. That was the absolute worst of it. When she broke up with me, I thought I would die. I had never been so depressed before.”

  “She said she waited two years after finding out.”

  “I knew it was going to happen, but I was in denial. Once I exposed who I really am to her, it was too much. I don’t blame her.”

  “So you’re into women only? Or are the rumors about you being ‘gay’ true?”

  “I’ve only been with a man once. It didn’t do much for me.”

  This was wild. I had a million questions, each one more inappropriate than the last. “So you’re either a straight trans man or a lesbian?”

  “Now you know why I’m involved in extensive therapy. I’ve been trying to figure that out for years. Unfortunately, I’ve gone through a few doctors, because by the time they realize how deep this goes, I turn into the subject that will earn them the Nobel prize in psychiatry.”

  “How so?”

  “Because I’m the ultimate test subject in nature vs. nurture. Do I really identify as a man because that’s how I was raised? Or did I happen to be a lesbian in this position, because that’s how I was born? Do I fall beneath some other label? I’m probably never going to know.”

  “Do you want to know?”

  His eyes widened. “Of course I do.” He approached me, slowly, as if I would run away in fear. “I also want to know where you and I go from here. If you need to take a few days, I understand. Take a few days off work if it helps.”

  “You still want to be with me?”

  “Why wouldn’t I? I was more afraid that you wouldn’t be into me, although I had optimistically hoped.”

  “I’ve been with a woman before,” I blurted. “It was a long time ago, though.”

  “I know.”

  “Excuse me?” How the hell did he know that? There was no way Sherman was that good. I don’t think so, anyway.

  “Oh, boy. Major turn off number two is saying I know every person you’ve ever slept with. Including Nadia Gaines.”

  “How?”

  “I understand that it shocks you, but it’s really not difficult to find stuff like that out when you have my team’s security clearances.”

  So not only did Sherman know easily Googled shit about my dad, but he knew I had slept with Eva Warren’s girlfriend once upon a time? Fuck! “Did you know before or after…”

  “Last weekend’s charity dinner? After. I saw the way you two looked at each other and told Sherman to look into it. He confirmed that the woman you once slept with was Ms. Gaines. That was the night I decided to give in to my desires for you.”

  “No way.”

  “Yes, way.”

  “How long were you lusting after me, exactly?”

  “Since the first week you started working for me.’

  I looked away. “Suppose the same could be said for me.”

  “But the person you lusted after was a man named Eric.”

  “Aren’t you still a man named Eric?”

  “That’s my image. I’m still trying to figure out the rest in my personal life.” He knelt before me, his soft hands gripping the ottoman on either side of my legs. He was close enough for me to kiss, but I kept my distance. Butterflies danced in my stomach. Even after all that, he still drummed up desire in my shy heart. “Beyond that, I wouldn’t mind having someone to be honest with. Now that you know the big secret, it’s like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. But I would understand if you…”

  “Let me think about it.”

  He swallowed. “All right.”

  I glanced down his T-shirt. Cleavage. Shadowy cleavage, but those were the same two breasts I saw earlier.

  What would it be like to have him on top of me with his body completely bare?

  I wouldn’t find out that night. But I could find out other things.

  “Do I still call you Eric in private?”

  “If it pleases you.”

  That wasn’t good enough. “What do those closest to you call you?”

  He cocked his head, as if he had never thought about it before. “Brooke has always called me Eric. I don’t think she’s ever stopped seeing me as a man.” His tone implied that it didn’t bother him. “Sherman… I guess he calls me Erica when we’re alone. That’s the me he’s always known since childhood.”

  “Then I guess it really doesn’t matter what I call you.”

  “As long as you call me Eric in public, that’s all that matters. Although,” his grin was still as infectious as ever, “Mr. Mann would be preferable. You’re supposed to be my intern.”

  I giggled. Not even Eric had been able to make me giggle yet.

  “Regardless of your decision, Natalie,” he continued, somber, “I request to kiss you before you leave.”

  My hands tangled in my lap. “If it pleases you.”

  “It does.”

  I wasn’t expecting such a tender kiss to my lips. Not after the heady kind he had given me before.

  Good thing I wasn’t expecting it.

  The moment his mouth came for mine, I forgot everything. The truth. The potential scandal that could ruin this corner of the economy. The trauma and despair a little girl had been thrust into before she was old enough to say no. The death of a different child that sent everyone down this terrible path.

  Now I was sucked into it.

  Because I couldn’t walk away. Not even personally, since knowing the truth about Eric Mann didn’t deter my professional opinion of him. Every time I fell into his arms, I turned into a slovenly excuse of a woman who didn’t care how he was built – not as long as that same soul looked at me through those eyes.

  He bent me back before the kiss was complete. Sparks exploded across my body like little landmines going off every few centimeters. My most sensitive
parts awoke to the promise of stimulation. As if nothing had happened, my body cried for sex.

  Did his?

  “Let’s go out this Sunday. You and me. We’ll have a proper date just as we are.”

  “Okay,” I had agreed before letting those works sink in. Because what did they mean, exactly? “Sunday.” For the first time since he first seduced me, Eric let my fingers wander down the front of his chest. My index finger hooked into the seam of his V-neck and pulled it down. More cleavage. Seriously dangerous cleavage.

  It made me wonder something else.

  “I have one last question.”

  “Anything.”

  I glanced into his lap. I somehow doubted he would feel hard against me if we ever made love again. “The last couple of times we had sex I definitely felt something hard down there.”

  “That’s not a question.”

  “Guess what the question is.”

  Eric stood. Nope. There was definitely no cock of any kind in those tight yoga pants. “It’s part of the persona. If I’m to portray a man to the world, then he must have certain assets, even if I naturally do not.”

  “You can just say it was a strap-on.”

  “That implies it was erect.”

  “Oh my God.” I couldn’t help it. I laughed.

  “One must be practical when packing around a fake dick every time he leaves the house.”

  “That’s why you never leave the fucking house!”

  “To be fair, my menstrual cramps would fell women in the military. Every month like clockwork. The other times are when I don’t feel like putting on the pageantry.”

  I couldn’t imagine it. If I had to start passing myself off as a man to the world the next day, I would lose my damn mind. How did he do it? How did he not go crazy?

  “You should get going.” Eric offered me his hand. “I’ll call you tomorrow about Sunday. We should both get some rest.”

  “Eric…”

  He was about to summon Sherman when I interrupted him. “Yes?”

  “Mr. Smith said that you had been devastated when I fled. Is that true?”

  A shadow of disbelief overcame that softening face. “Yes. But not only because of your reaction to me.”

  “Not only?”