Sliding the phone into his pocket, he climbed out as soon as Jefferson stopped the car in front of New Bern, North Carolina’s, small jetport terminal.

  “Thanks, Jefferson. I’ll let you know when I get back in town,” he said as he accepted the carry-on and briefcase the man had retrieved from the trunk.

  “Yes, sir. Do you want me to check on Miz Jillian while you’re gone?” the man asked.

  Gunnar smiled and shook his head. “You know my wife won’t let you drive her anywhere. She’ll probably demand to drive herself to the hospital when she’s in labor.”

  “Yes, sir,” Jefferson agreed, sending both men into chuckles.

  “I’ll see you in a couple days,” Gunnar said as he headed inside, dragging the wheelie behind him.

  He would have taken his private plane, but when his assistant, Luke, called to arrange the flight, he’d been told the plane had been grounded for some type of unscheduled maintenance and would be out of service for the next few days. While Luke nearly melted down at the news, Gunnar had shrugged and told the man to book him and Monica one-way flights to Austin. First class, of course. As soon as the plane was back in the air, the pilot and plane would join them for their ride home.

  It wasn’t vital for business for him to travel to Texas, but he had a secondary reason to visit the state he had fallen in love with years ago on his first trip there. He was hoping this would be the last time he came alone. Next time he planned for Jillian to be by his side so he could show her the surprise project he had been working on over the last six months, with Dominic Zaccaro’s assistance.

  Gunnar walked through the terminal straight to the security line. He handed over his ticket and ID to the agent who seemed to always be on duty. Or at least he was every time Gunnar flew.

  Screening went quickly and he walked into the waiting area and saw that, as usual, Monica had arrived first. The woman impressed him weekly, not only with her promptness, but also with her business smarts and ability to not only step in and take over as VP of McNeil Enterprises, but her understanding that over the next few months her duties and responsibilities would be expanding further. His plan was to pull back and focus more on his woman and their life together than the business empire he had spent more than twenty years building. At some point, Monica would be taking over as CEO, as well.

  His fortune was secure no matter what happened to the world, and it was time to turn his attention away from making money, and toward making a few of his childhood dreams come true.

  It was also time to reconnect with his beautifully submissive wife. Their relationship had become secondary to all the shit life had thrown at them the past year or so, and he was ready for them to get back to where they started—as man and wife, and as Master and submissive.

  Which, if things went the way he hoped, this trip would take a big step toward. He had not told Jillian of his plans, but he hoped they would be moving very soon to a ranch in central Texas. A very special ranch he’d bought where he was in the process of putting together their very own BDSM club based on Club Esoteria where they had first met as Dominant and submissive, but with a very Texas twist to it.

  Trying to call Jillian once more, Gunnar began a mental tally of her misdeeds. Once he returned home, they would be having a punishment session, maybe at the club, to remind her of who was actually in charge of their relationship.

  Again her phone went to voice mail. “That’s two,” he murmured as the ticket agent began the process of loading the plane.

  Chapter Three

  When Jillian knew her assistant, Bethany, would be in the office, she called and told her she was taking a personal day. Then she hung up and went back to bed.

  She heard both the house phone and her cell ring several times during the day but was in no mood to speak to Gunnar. She wondered if he would even care, or if he would bitch her out when she finally did call him back. She slept off and on throughout the day and night but was no closer to answers about how to heal the chasm that seemed to be growing between her and Gunnar once they left their bedroom.

  When her alarm went off the next morning as it did at five-fifty-eight every morning, Jillian crawled out and headed to the bathroom. The hot shower beat on her much like Gunnar’s flogger had, feeling like heaven. After drying her hair and pulling it back into a braid then putting on the makeup she normally wore to work, Jillian dressed in a deep purple suit that always made her feel powerful and competent and ready to face the day.

  First stop was the kitchen to load and start the coffeepot. Once the dark liquid gold began dripping into the pot, she went to the house phone in the living room and checked messages. Five hang ups from Gunnar’s cell, and one message from the nursing home in the early hours of the morning asking that she call them as soon as possible.

  Her cell phone showed multiple hang ups, five voicemails, and two text messages from Gunnar. All of them said the same thing, though in increasingly terse tones.

  Call me now.

  Jillian waited until the coffee finished brewing, her guts rumbling from hunger as well as the turmoil about calling Gunnar. Opening the refrigerator, she pulled out a container of leftover spaghetti and put it in the microwave. Sipping on her coffee, she reached for the phone. She would call the nursing home first. Someone there would be awake, while her Master would still be asleep for at least another hour.

  Her hand was less than an inch away when it rang. Checking the readout, she did not recognize the phone number, though it was a close match to the main number of the nursing home. Clicking the connect button, she answered.

  “Hello, this is Jillian McNeil.”

  “Good morning, Mrs. McNeil. This is Doctor Swann from Brookville Nursing Home. I’m calling to let you know that your father slipped into a coma early this morning. I don’t believe he has very long left, so if you’d like to see him before, I would recommend you come as soon as you can,” the voice on the other end of the phone said in such an even tone that Jillian wondered if he was reading from cue cards.

  “Yes, Doctor Swann. Thank you for calling,” Jillian said, blinking fast to keep her tears under control. She hung up before he could say anything further.

  Taking a deep breath to maintain control, she called her assistant. As soon as the call connected with voicemail, she said, “Bethany, it’s me. I won’t be in again this morning. I’ll be at the nursing home with Dad. I’ll have my cell if you need me, but please, try not to need me.”

  Though she wanted to say more, she hung up instead. Bethany would have her hands full covering for her for a second day in a row. Her assistant knew what to do and did not need her micromanaging.

  Bethany was a sweet motherly woman who Jillian had hired five years earlier after her youngest son had gone off to college. She guarded Jillian and the business like a lioness protecting her cubs, so Jillian had no doubt the company would be fine without her.

  Hanging up, Jillian ended the call as the microwave beeped to remind her that breakfast was ready. After inhaling the leftover spaghetti, she headed back to the bedroom to change from her suit into blue jeans, a dressy T-shirt and sneakers. There was no reason to dress up when she would be spending the day at the nursing home where they didn’t care what she wore.

  Making sure her phone, laptop, and their chargers were packed in her briefcase, Jillian armed the security system and left. As she drove across town to the nursing home, she shifted her mindset from president of Hall Industries to worried daughter of a dying man.

  It was only as Jillian hurried down the hall toward her father’s room twenty minutes later that she remembered she had yet to call Gunnar. Stopping in the corner of the next dayroom area she came to, she pulled out her phone and hit speed dial one, hoping the man on the other end wasn’t too upset with her for going AWOL for the last day.

  “Jillian?” he answered on the first ring and sounded a little panicked. “Are you all right?”

  “Good morning, husband. Sorry I didn’t answer yesterday,” Jillian said with a bit of vinegar in her tone. She had not answered his question but didn’t really care. If that made her a brat, then so be it. She had other things to worry about than soothing his fears.

  Maybe it would be good for him to be a little worried right now. After all, he was the one who kept leaving on these damn trips. Just because they were for business was no reason for him not to tell her about them beforehand, and not invite her to go along, even if she couldn’t get away right then.

  “And that’s six,” he said, his tone dropping an octave to the one that sent a shiver through her pelvis. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” she got out just as the phone beeped and died. Pulling it away, she saw that her phone had just hung up on him and was currently in the process of powering down due to the battery being too low. “Well, I guess that will be seven.”

  Carrying the phone in one hand, she continued down the hall to her father’s room. Entering, she pulled out her phone charger and set it up to start charging her phone. It would take a while before her phone would turn on and allow her to call Gunnar back again. Once it was charging, she turned her attention to the man in the bed across the room.

  “Hi, Daddy. I’m here,” she said, pulling the wooden chair up to the side of the bed. Sitting in it, she took her father’s completely lax hand in hers. Squeezing it gently, she started talking.

  She shared the plans she had in the works for the upcoming stockholders’ meeting, which included an evening buffet and social afterward. She then moved on to tell him about Gunnar and his trip to Texas and then shared everything she knew about Texas, which admittedly wasn’t much. As she talked, she wiped at the tears that began to roll down her cheeks, knowing her makeup was smearing, but not caring. It wasn’t like she was going anywhere any time soon.

  When she ran out of news to share, she knew it was time for the talk she dreaded having with him. The talk that, now that he was comatose, would hurt her more than it would him. But she had a feeling he needed to hear the words.

  “Daddy, it’s time. It’s time for you to go. Time to join Mom in Heaven. I’ll be fine. I have Gunnar and Nell and Bethany and Blaze to keep me from crawling into the grave with you. I love you, but it’s time. Thank you for being my dad, for doing all that you did for me, but Mom is waiting for you,” Jillian said softly.

  She wasn’t sure if the staff would approve of her encouraging her father to die, but this was what he needed. Permission to die. Assurance that she would be fine without him watching over her and worrying about her.

  Just after Gunnar had entered her life, their roles had reversed. She had become the parent running the company, and he became the child spending his days playing golf and hanging out with his retired friends at the club. His memory problems had been diagnosed as Alzheimer’s and his decline had been slow, until the last few months when it seemed to speed up despite the medications they’d given him. And then he’d been diagnosed with cancer.

  Over the next hours, Jillian watched the numbers on the machines recording his vitals slowly decrease. Finally, about sundown, he slipped away and everything flatlined and alarms began to scream. Standing, she leaned over the bed, and kissed his cheek one last time. “Good-bye, Daddy,” she said softly.

  Chapter Four

  After gathering her belongings, Jillian walked out of her father’s room. The nurses assured her that they would pack her father’s things and have them delivered to her home in the next few days.

  But Jillian’s thoughts were not on her father’s belongings. Her father was gone, and her husband was half a country away, return date unknown. Despite what she’d told Lucas, she was alone in the world. Gunnar might be home for the funeral, if she could put it off for a week or so.

  Shoving her grief into an emotional box, she slammed the lid closed and padlocked. She had to get through the next few days and weeks without allowing herself to think about anything beyond what needed to be done in this moment. Later, she would allow herself to mourn. Like after next week’s annual meeting of the shareholders.

  Stopping at the nurses’ station on her way out, Jillian asked them to put into motion the funeral plans she had made when her father had checked into the nursing home three years earlier. Arrangements she had confirmed with them just the week before.

  Once she signed the paperwork required to release the body to the funeral home, Jillian walked out and climbed into her car. She drove home automatically, everything in her going numb as she made lists of phone calls to be made, and everything else that needed to be done immediately as well as in the days to come.

  By the time she parked, Jillian felt completely disconnected from any emotion. She was a living, breathing robot and would remain so until well after her father’s funeral and wake. Walking into the house, she disabled the alarm. She jumped when the house phone rang, but without thinking, she answered.

  “Hello.”

  “Jillian? Where are you? Are you okay?”

  She wanted to assure her husband she was just fine, but truth was, she wasn’t. She was alone and nothing would ever be the same.

  “Daddy’s dead,” she said, her tone as flat as her emotions.

  “I know, honey. Dr. Swann called me a few minutes ago. He wasn’t sure you should be alone, so I’ve called Blaze. She’ll help with whatever needs to be done, okay?”

  All Jillian could think was that at least he wasn’t promising more punishment strokes, though she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Now that Daddy was dead, would this speed up Gunnar leaving her and asking for a divorce?

  “Okay.”

  She jumped and spun around when the doorbell rang. Crossing to it and pulling it open, she found her best friend standing just outside.

  “Blaze is here,” she said, handing Blaze the phone. “Talk to Gunnar.”

  Then she turned and headed to the kitchen. She needed…something, though she wasn’t quite sure if it was a glass of wine, a bottle of whiskey, or some food since she had skipped lunch.

  She made it to the middle of the kitchen before her legs refused to hold her up any longer. Falling to the floor, she curled into a ball and wrapped her arms around her middle.

  Her father was dead.

  Gunnar was leaving her.

  It would not be long before she really would be completely alone.

  “Oh, shit,” Blaze said from behind her. A moment later, her best friend was on the floor beside her, patting her cheek with a gentle hand.

  “Gunnar, I’ll have to have her call you back. No, I’m not sure when. Maybe tomorrow. Right now, she’s curled up on the kitchen floor, and you’re just going to have to wait to talk to her, okay?”

  Jillian’s focus turned inward, and she didn’t hear whatever else Blaze said. When her friend helped her sit up and then stand, she cooperated. She allowed Blaze to guide her to the master bedroom and help her to bed. She accepted a glass and drank it down, the burn of Gunnar’s best whiskey barely registering.

  Her father was dead.

  Her husband was leaving her.

  When Blaze took the glass and then gave it to her again, she drank it down just as quickly. After handing the glass back again, she flopped over on the bed and curled herself around Gunnar’s pillow. She lay there, unable to feel, unable to speak, unable to do anything.

  She had no idea how much time passed before she blinked and looked at her best friend, who was watching as if she were a ticking bomb. Her voice sounded dead, even to herself as she said, “Daddy’s dead and Gunnar’s leaving me for that new woman in his company. I’ll be all alone.”

  Before Blaze could respond, Jillian closed her eyes, and allowed her exhaustion, with the help of whiskey and emotional pain, to suck her down a black hole into oblivion.

  * * * *

  Once Blaze was sure Jillian was asleep, she walked out of the bedroom and pulled the door closed behind her. Storming through the house like a pint-size tornado, she found the house phone on the counter, right where she’d left it. Picking it up, she pushed the series of buttons she hoped would speed dial Gunnar’s cell phone. It was the series the Masters at Club Esoteria used to connect themselves with their collared submissives.

  Jillian might never make a fuss, but Blaze had never been accused of being timid. And since she had been instrumental in Gunnar and Jillian meeting that fateful night so many years ago, she felt responsible for keeping them together.

  “Jillian?” The man answered on the first ring, sounding a little frantic.

  “It’s Blaze. I know you’re one of the richest men in the country, but no one should treat anyone like you’re treating her. Are you really planning to leave her?”

  “What?” Gunnar roared. “Why does she think that?”

  “Her father just died, and you’re fuck knows where doing fuck only knows what with that new assistant of yours. And this isn’t the first time this month. What the hell else is she supposed to think? You need to get your ass back here and take care of your woman.” Blaze hung up before he could respond.

  Before he could call back, she turned off the ringer. When Jillian’s cell phone startled her with Gunnar’s obnoxiously distinctive ringtone, she let it go to voicemail before turning that phone off, as well.

  She then pulled out her own cellphone and called the man she loved more than life. “Master, I’ve got some bad news…”

  * * * *

  Gunnar growled a curse as he vowed to talk to Blaze’s man about punishing her harshly, not only for hanging up on him, but for turning off both the house phone and Jillian’s cell. After calling both twice and getting voice mail, he called his assistant’s cell.

  “Find me a plane,” Gunnar said as soon as Luke answered his phone. “Jillian’s dad died, and I need to get home. Also, tell Jefferson to go to the house to help. Call me back when you’ve got arrangements made.”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7