Page 22 of Delicious Surrender
Her feet were aching, and she was tired. She wanted to jam her heel into his shiny brown shoes and tell him to fuck off. Instead, she looked at him with a phony smile and said, “Of course, yourexcellency.”
She was pouring the tea when he burst out laughing. If she didn’t have a good grip on the pot, it might have landed on his legs. Brynne couldn’t help noticing his friends were scowling at her.
Dimitri patted the shoulder of the man closest to him. “Ya lyublyu zhenshchin s ogon’kom—I like a little fire in my women.” One smirked, and the other forced a laugh. She guessed womendidn’t speak to him like that very often.
She made her escape straight into the back and found Garrick there. “That guy is one scary bastard!” Her voice was high pitched, giving away her anxiety. “Security wasn’t here when he came in. I was on my own.”
Garrick took her gently by the shoulders. “Hey Tink, take a deep breath. Nothing happened. You are safe. I will investigate, as that should not have happened.”
She hugged herself. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears.
His voice lowered. “If you can’t handle a guy like him, maybe you should reconsider this job.”
Brynne shook her head. That was all she needed to hear. “I’m no quitter.” She stated it for the second time tonight. But did she believe it?
He pulled a paper out of his jacket. “Here, it’s a taxi chit. Cars are on standby at the back entrance for you when it gets late. You can get going now. I’ll close up.”
She nodded and started for the stairs.
“And Tink, you best get another pair of shoes. I’m all for high heels, but you’ll be crippled unless you get something with a lower heel. Find something sexy but functional.”
She stared at him and nodded her head absently.
Brynne quickly changed and hung her uniform on the rack under her name tag. She was glad that her sneakers had dried over the course of the evening. When she exited out the back, a black cab flashed his headlights and pulled up.
The trip home was fast, the rain having let up hours ago. She entered her apartment and leaned up against her front door and sighed. What a night! But she survived it.
Brynne dropped her stuff and kicked off her shoes, making a beeline for the fridge. She uncorked the open bottle of chianti and poured it into the only clean mug in her entire apartment. She made a plate of cheddar cheese and crackers to fill the void in her stomach. In the future, she would have to scarf down some food before her shift. All she’d managed was to nibble on some nuts during her trips to the kitchen. At least she would lose weight with all the running back and forth.
She sank into her old couch and took a swig of the chilled wine, unable to stop thinking about the big Russian and the unnerving way he looked at her, like he wanted to own her. He was polite and surprisingly gentle when he took her hand, but she sensed a barely contained aggression emanating from his linebacker-size frame.
When she crawled into bed a short time later, it was another tall, overbearing bastard that she cursed. Why didn’t Gage come up to the lounge during her shift? After their run-in at the back door, he didn’t appear again. She should have been glad, but in truth, she was disappointed.
7
Temptation & Trouble
Gage arrived at his London penthouse at nine thirty p.m., frustrated and hungry. He had planned to review his VC team’s assessment of a small software startup, but his concentration was shot. He’d made excuses and canceled dinner with his mother to get back to London a day early. When Garrick questioned him, he denied it had anything to do with seeing the new girl in her uniform.
She looked astemptingas he’d imagined. It took all his resolve not to go up to the bar. Instead, he’d watched her for an hour from his office video feed, like a perverted voyeur.
Disgusted with himself, he left the club and went home to burn off this pent-up energy in the gym. He couldn’t get the vision of Brynne out of his head. When he pulled her in from the rain, smudges of mascara had marred her fair skin, and wet strands of auburn hair were stuck to her rosy cheeks. She’d been breathless and infuriated, hammering the doorbell, but whenshe saw it was him, all the fire went out of her eyes and her shoulders sank. She was on the verge of tears. Thankfully, his callous remark remedied that, and she looked like she wanted to punch him instead.
No matter how amusing it was, he did not need this distraction. He had not yet forgotten being made a fool of. Sierra had him believing she loved himandhis dominant nature, and he’d been attracted to her classic, flawless style. She never had a hair out of place, and she was not prone to messes—emotional or otherwise. She was just like him. Oh so carefullycontained.
There was further damning proof that he’d lost his edge. By failing to do his usual background checks, he had never uncovered the dire state of Sierra’s finances. She came from old money; however, the family coffers were dwindling fast through a series of poor investments and her father’s gambling. Gage viciously pummeled the speed bag as another realization dawned on him. Sierra didn’t mind being tied to his bed because it meant she didn’t have to participate! She could lie there, taking one for king and country. He’d been blind and stupid, seeing willing submission, in what was, in fact, indifference. That his mother loved her should have been his first clue. Sierra needed a rich husband, and it was clear she would do just about anything to get one, including selling herself to the devil.
He was done and had zero interest in doing dinners or making small talk. For now, he was content to look down the barrel of celibacy. While his mother was seeking a judicial appointment, he would remain under the radar. That meant no visits to UK clubs—even the underground ones.
His mother had almost lost her mind when he told her he was opening a fetish club. It didn’t matter that he used anothername in London. She was certain they would somehow link it back to her. In three years, no one had made the connection.
Although he never fully unleashed his dominance with Sierra, it was there, locked away, waiting to be freed. His fists were aching, but his mind was clear when he finished his boxing routine.
After a hot shower, he found a serving of spaghetti Bolognese in the fridge, compliments of his housekeeper. He poured a glass of Brunello di Montalcino and opened the rooftop patio doors to let the sounds of the city drift in. His phone pinged.
Garrick:All is quiet. We’re closed for the night.
Gage:Thanks, man.