I Will Not Beg

by Cherise Sinclair

  “I’m past all that.” She rose so hastily she tripped over the ottoman. Turning, she scowled at him. “Rubbing at a scab leads to scars, not healing.”

  “Piper.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” She wrapped her arms around her waist. “If you’ll excuse me, I need a shower.” Her face was white, mouth in a tight line. She held herself as if she still felt the pain of an abused body.

  As she disappeared into the stairway up to the bedroom and master bath, he didn’t follow. Pushing right now would be counterproductive. She needed to know a Dom would respect her limits; however, he wasn’t going to give up either. How could he help if she wouldn’t talk?

  After draining his drink, he picked Churchill up. “She’s a stubborn one, eh, PM?”

  Unblinking blue eyes met Ethan’s. The cat set a paw on his hand.

  “You’re right, of course. Patience is required.”

  Sooner or later, perhaps with a counselor, Piper needed to talk about her time with Serna. She still got caught in the loop of thinking she was worthless—and that would probably continue unless she exhumed, then excised the cause. Until then, remembering being a slave would be a form of torture for her.

  Anger flared inside Ethan. That arsehole had really done a number on her.

  Would facing Serna in person help Piper? Her memories had turned the bastard into a huge, undefeatable monster. Sometimes, viewed with older, wiser eyes, a bogeyman could be revealed as pathetic. Twisted and unstable…but human.

  “Suggestions, Church?”

  The cat rubbed his head against Ethan’s chest while determinedly kneading his stomach.

  “Provide ample affection along with teasing out some answers?” Ethan considered. “Good advice. Let’s see where that goes.”

  Meantime, he’d go offer a nonjudgmental hug and let her know her refusal was allowed. That she hadn’t damaged what was between them.

  Her shower had been a fast one. When he reached the master bedroom, she was standing in front of the big walk-in closet, staring at the door, something he’d seen her do more than once. Not any door—just the ones on closets.

  His brows drew together. He’d noticed the closet in her apartment lacked a door, although the hinges remained. “Do you have a problem with closets?”

  Squeaking in surprise, she spun to face him.

  He kept his voice calm. Soothing. “Or is it the door itself that bothers you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  She was ignoring his question. He studied the wooden door. It was a typical door. He opened it and flipped on the light. Shelves. Clothes on hangers.

  No, look harder, Worth. He turned off the light. It was a big closet; not everyone had big closets. A smaller one would be…claustrophobic. Especially if a person couldn’t get out. “Did Serna lock you in the closet?”

  The way she flinched told him everything he needed to know.

  “The filthy wanker.” The fury simmering in his gut came out in his voice and didn’t help at all. Abandoning words, he pulled her close, pleased beyond all measure when she came willingly.

  No, more than that—she burrowed against him as if she’d found a safe haven.

  Rubbing his cheek against her hair, he held her, and her trust in him filled him to overflowing.

  Then, being his indomitable Piper, she chuckled. “Do baronets use words like wanker?”

  “Probably only the ones who spent summer holidays working in their father’s factories. I picked up a whole new vocabulary that way. I quite impressed the lads at the boarding school.”

  He gave a faint husky chuckle as she leaned into him.

  As he held her, he studied the closet. His home—their home—should be a haven.

  No matter how brave a subbie might be, she might need help eradicating monsters that lingered under the bed. Or in the closet.

  That’s why Doms were put on this earth.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A week later, after her self-defense class, Piper had stopped by Alberta’s apartment to feed and cuddle Archimedes. When Piper had first gotten to San Francisco, Alberta had been in the same shelter, along with her orange tabby—all that she’d brought from her old life. The two women became friends, cheered each other on as they struggled to create new lives. Poor Archimedes had been the recipient of more than one bout of tears.

  Now Alberta was in London at a software developer convention, and Piper had her own business.

  Since her friend’s Richmond District apartment was near the Presidio, Piper was finishing the day by walking the Promenade Trail loop. Who could resist the spectacular views of the Bay and the Golden Gate Bridge? Smiling, she stopped to watch the dogs bounding into the water to retrieve balls. So much enthusiasm.

  Summer afternoons in San Francisco had to be the most beautiful of times. The breeze off the Bay bit through the side of her sweat-soaked T-shirt, while the bright sun heated her back. If only the rest of her life was as sunny.

  Oh, and doesn’t that just sound pitiful? Her chuckle netted her interested looks from two male joggers. No, guys, I’m not flirting. She needed to stop laughing at her own mental commentary.

  Nonetheless, she wasn’t pitiful, and her life was sunny.

  Work was great. Her clients kept referring her service to their friends—the very nicest kind of advertising. Taking Ethan’s advice, she’d asked Rosalie if she’d like to move into management. Rosalie was completely onboard with the idea. And it meant Chatelaines was going to grow, which was both scary and exciting.

  Socially? Along with her vanilla friends, she now had Dixon and Lindsey who’d pushed right into BFF status. Abby, too. Rona…Piper quite simply wanted to be Rona when she grew up.

  Physically? She was better than ever, partly because Ethan’s chef prepared meals with tons of vegetables. Partly because Ethan insisted she visit the gym regularly. Her bossy Dom had actually driven her there a couple of times. His concern worked; she felt great.

  In fact… Smiling, she broke into a jog—so not her favorite thing—and maintained it for long, long minutes before dropping back to a fast walk. She wasn’t even really out of breath. Go, me!

  But, when it came to her relationship with Ethan, she was so damn confused. He’d called what they had a romantic relationship and a D/s one. The night after their talk about that, he’d said he expected them to be exclusive—no sex with anyone else. Her heart had done handstands when he said that applied to him as well as her.

  Then he asked if she was ready to leave off using condoms?

  Wow. Just wow. The feel of him without a condom was so, so different. Warmer and slicker and sexier. More intimate, somehow.

  Was it normal for the slide into a “relationship” to have been so easy? So natural?

  Admittedly, in some ways, they were very alike. Both of them were gregarious and liked to be out and about. He had SHN – Broadway season tickets—for two—so they’d been to plays and musicals. She’d been his date for a charity benefit where he served on the nonprofit’s board, and they’d shared a table with Xavier and Abby. Ethan had repaid her by escorting her to a reception given by a cleaning company Chatelaines used and to a friend’s engagement party. A few days ago, he’d had the chef make a special meal, and they’d had Simon and Rona over for dinner before they’d all gone to an art gallery showing given by another friend of hers. Between the four of them, they knew almost every person visiting the gallery.

  As if to balance out the cultural overload, Ethan had dragged her to a soccer game and a boxing tournament where a friend of his was entered. God, she couldn’t believe Ethan fought like that for fun. No wonder he was all hard muscle.

  He really was. She licked her lips and broke into another jog.

  Face it, he was simply fun to be with. It seemed he thought the same about her. He’d mentioned last night that he was getting out more because he enjoyed taking her places.

  When he said things like that, it floored her. Sure, she was used to compliments from
men, but they weren’t Doms. Weren’t her Dom.

  She realized she was gasping and stumbled to a halt. Idiot. A person walking a poodle grinned at the way Piper was bent over, sucking in air. Yeah, this would look good on her gravestone: Piper Delaney. Thinking of a man, she had a heart attack.

  But her Ethan was a very special, amazing guy.

  If he hadn’t unraveled Jerry’s bullshit, they wouldn’t be together now. He had a lot more courage than she did. And more patience. He’d understood about her unwillingness to talk about her time as a slave, although she knew his patience wouldn’t last forever.

  Because he was a Dom.

  God, she was so crazy. Stupid Piper had gone and fallen in love…with a Dom. With a moan of dismay, she dropped down in the grass next to the sidewalk.

  Two mothers chatted as they pushed their babies in strollers. Out on the Bay, gulls dipped and soared over the glittering water. Barking in delight, a big yellow lab charged into the water after a thrown stick.

  Everything around her was alive.

  She was alive. And in love. No, no, no. “I do not want to be in love, dammit.” Not with a Dom.

  On the sidewalk, a white-haired man leaned on his cane and frowned down at her. His voice crackled with age and probably a lifetime of cigarettes as he told her, “Love is a gift. The finest gift you’ll find in a lifetime. Don’t throw it away so casually.” Looking older than God, he gave her a stern nod and kept on walking.

  Love is a gift.

  Would Ethan see her love as being a gift? Dread crept into the edges of her heart. He’d probably laugh. Look, worthless is in love with me.

  No, Piper, stop thinking like that. She wasn’t worthless, in name or in reality. Ethan never, ever gave her the impression he felt that she was.

  It was sure disconcerting how she kept swinging from feeling inadequate to self-confident. Her emotions were all over the place in a way they hadn’t been in five years.

  She’d really thought she was mostly over the trauma…except now she knew that her biggest defense was avoiding anything that revived old hurts and memories. She snorted. Being around the Dark Haven people was totally messing up that avoidance strategy.

  Falling for a Dom would only make it worse.

  What if Ethan said he loved her? What would she do?

  Her heart went into overdrive.

  Okay, okay, don’t panic. She had time. He wouldn’t just blurt out protestations of love—not Ethan. Like her, he was careful because he’d been burned in the past. She’d have time to think of what to do.

  I’m in love with a Dom. Just shoot me now.

  Chapter Eighteen

  On Thursday night, at Xavier and Abby’s home in Tiburon, Ethan petted Blackie’s soft fur and listened to the couple argue about the amount of cayenne in bouillabaisse. Piper had joined Lindsey and deVries in the living room.

  “I thought Dixon and Stan were coming tonight,” Ethan said.

  “Stan has some urgent Homeland Security case and is putting in overtime. Dixon didn’t want to come by himself.” Abby whacked Xavier’s fingers with a wooden spoon.

  With a low laugh, Xavier plucked the spoon away, spun Abby around, and swatted her on the arse several times, hard enough to make her squeal.

  “You…you sadist. You impolite sadist,” she sputtered, face red. “We have company.”

  Xavier added the cayenne pepper with a gleam in his eyes. “Be grateful there are people here, or I’d have stripped off your jeans before spanking you.”

  As her blush deepened, Ethan smothered a smile. The little professor hadn’t lost her charming modesty.

  She glared at her husband before giving in and laughing. “My Liege, the brute.”

  “That’s me.” Xavier kissed her. “Do you want help fixing the salad?”

  “We’ll help, Abby. I’m great at cutting up stuff.” Lindsey entered the kitchen, followed by Piper. “You men can take all that testosterone outside.”

  “I like that idea,” deVries said. “I was stuck inside on the computer all day.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll do.” Xavier picked up the bottle of burgundy and refilled everyone’s glasses except for his and deVries’. “Another beer, Zander?”

  “No, it’s my turn as designated driver,” deVries said. “I’ll take a soda if you have one.”

  Xavier handed over a cola, took another for himself, and headed outside.

  Ethan stopped to give Piper a kiss, enjoying how she softened against him and how she clung for a moment. Her fears of touching a Dom—of touching him—had almost disappeared, and he loved her affectionate nature.

  Outside, the wide stone patio held a pool and hot tub off to the right and overlooked the bay. The crisp brine-scented air was so clear that he could see past Angel Island to San Francisco. A good telescope could probably find his Russian Hill house.

  At the railing, Xavier glanced at Ethan. “We missed you at Dark Haven last weekend.”

  It was good to be missed; however, Xavier would have to get used to his absence. “I’ve been meaning to talk with you. I need a couple of months off from monitoring.”

  Xavier frowned and waited.

  “I believe that Piper will eventually be comfortable visiting the club with friends while I work, but that time is not now.”

  “You don’t want her having a panic attack without you nearby.” Xavier nodded. “Agreed.”

  Good. One problem was taken care of.

  “Gotta say, it’s a pain in the ass to lose you when those fucking reciprocal visitors keep flooding in.” DeVries dropped into a chair at the table. “I hate tourist season.”

  “It’s a problem.” Xavier swirled his cola in the glass. “Last night, one of the visitors started to jerk off while watching a scene.”

  Ethan snorted.

  “Our members shouldn’t have to put up with such behavior,” Xavier growled.

  Devries’s brows drew together. “I still think you should’ve let me cane his little frank and beans.”

  Grinning at the thwarted sadist, Ethan considered. They needed a way to orient visitors quickly. “Perhaps this should be a discussion at the next DH board meeting.”

  Xavier gave him a quick smile. “Already on the agenda.”

  As a stream of laughter came from inside the house, Ethan tilted his head to listen. Just the sound lifted a man’s spirits.

  Xavier looked at him over his glass. “She’s good for you, Worth. I like her.”

  Before he could answer, Piper came out the back door, carrying a tray. “Sirs. I’ve been commandeered for delivery service.”

  She laid out plates and napkins, set the platter of appetizers within Ethan’s reach, and waited to see if there was anything else he wanted. His submissive.

  “That looks splendid. Thank you, poppet.”

  Although she didn’t smile, her eyes brightened. Because she’d pleased him.

  Unable to resist, he pulled her down and into his lap.

  “Sir.” She stiffened, then melted against him.

  “The appetizers look tasty, but I’m hungry for a soft, squirmy submissive,” he murmured. “Let’s see if I can please you as much as you please me.”

  He kissed her, taking his time, then before she’d recovered, fastened a ruby and diamond tennis bracelet around her wrist.

  “What?” She stared down. “Sir, no.”

  The moment he’d seen it, he’d known it would suit her. She was sparkles and bright colors, a pocket-sized gypsy. He studied it on her wrist. Yes. The gold enhanced the radiance of her skin. Red was her favorite color.

  Her brows drew together. “But-but I haven’t done anything.”

  Done anything? Did she think presents were given for performance? The snippets she’d shared of her childhood made him think that was true. After she’d acquired a stepfather, she’d been virtually starved for affection.

  “Piper.” He rubbed his cheek against hers. “This is a present, not a payment.”

  “It’s t
oo expensive.” She frowned at it. “I don’t need expensive stuff.”

  He felt his lips quirk because she was as adorable as she was unique. She hadn’t wanted her business to expand if increasing the profit would sacrifice quality. She said “rich people” as if it were an insult—and apparently, didn’t crave expensive gifts.

  Her wide brown eyes were open and readable in a way that Nicola’s never had been. As something inside of him loosened, he realized she wasn’t the only person with a neurosis-inducing past.

  “Piper, I gave you this because I wanted to see you smile. Because the rubies reminded me of your favorite color and your big heart. The diamonds sparkle in the same way that you do. In the way that you light up my life.”

  He’d had women react to expensive presents with tears, with kisses, with hugs. It was the first time he’d gotten a frown for the gift—and tears for simple compliments.

  As she wrapped herself around him, tear-streaked face against his hair, he hugged her tighter.

  Yes, he really did love her.

  The knowledge settled into his heart with the feeling of rightness. Of completeness. Now all he had to do was get her to acknowledge what they had.

  That might be a bit trickier.

  Chapter Nineteen

  On Thursday, in her apartment, Piper joined Dixon on the couch and showed him the bracelet Ethan had given her. “See? It’s too much.”

  “Pipster, it’s perfect.” Dix heaved a huge sigh. “Maybe I set my sights too low. I should have gone for a millionaire boyfriend.”

  “Dixon.” Even as she said it, she knew he was joking. Her friend was totally in love with Stan.

  And she was in love with Ethan, God help her. “Why does he have to be a damn millionaire and a damn baronet?”

  Dixon burst out laughing. “You sound so pissed off. But seriously, Pips, the money and title aren’t what get you, not really.”

  “No, you’re right. It’s because he’s also a damn Dom.”

  “Nailed it. That domliness is what floats your boat, you know.”

  “It is, God help me, it really is. What am I going to do?”