Restrained Box Set: Boston Doms Books 1-4, page 12
them to deal with Hetherington. Whistleblower laws protect her, ultimately, but that won’t stop CPH from doing their worst.”
“That won’t be a problem,” Alexander said. “A trip up the coast can easily be arranged. I won’t let anyone get to her.”
Elizabeth gaped at him. “I…I don’t think—”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Elizabeth. It isn’t as if I’m planning a trip to London for you to meet my mother.” Alexander’s grin flashed, hungry and almost predatory. “Yet.”
Her breath hitched, but she was saved from further embarrassment by Nicholas rising. “I have to get back to the office.” Nicholas extended his hand. “It was lovely to meet you, Elizabeth, despite the circumstances. I’ve never seen Alex quite so unsure of himself. It’s very entertaining. I’ll see you tomorrow at the ball.”
The next ten minutes passed in a flurry of papers to sign and a dizzying number of legal terms Elizabeth had only heard in passing—on Law and Order. By the time the lawyers were done, Elizabeth’s head pounded, and her stomach twisted into knots.
Why did my life have to turn so complicated?
Before she’d been fired, other than the occasional dinner with Toni and Kelsey, Elizabeth rarely socialized and never dated. Endless stretches of solitude broken up only by her daily runs and long hours of work made up her life. Now, she was dating a billionaire, about to accuse a very powerful and influential company of tax fraud, and oddest of all, almost happy.
“Elizabeth?” She leaned in to the warm hand on her shoulder, unsure how long she’d been absorbed in her own musings. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything I’ve worked for…five years of sitting at that desk, doing my job, is about to go down the drain. But then…there’s you. I don’t know why you’re bothering with me. All I’m going to do is make trouble for you. I figured you’d drop me as soon as I told you what was going on. But instead you came to get me, and I don’t understand why.”
“Because I find you irresistible,” Alexander said, sliding into the booth next to her and cupping her cheeks. “Your strength, your intelligence, the spark in your eyes, your smile, your laugh…” He leaned in and claimed her mouth until all she wanted was to lose herself in him. When he pulled away, his eyes darkened, threads of copper shining through his somber gaze. “I understand why you didn’t tell me. Why you didn’t feel like you could. But can we agree that for however how long this lasts, we won’t keep secrets
from one another?”
Elizabeth linked their fingers. “No more secrets.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Stop fidgeting, sir. You’re not helping the matter.”
Alexander glared at Samuel. “All the advances in science and technology over the years and no one’s found a way to make this simpler?”
“It’s a bowtie, sir. It’s not supposed to be simple.” Samuel coaxed the tie into place, then stepped back. “There. Now don’t go fiddling with it. And for God’s sake, snap out of this snit before you go and pick up Miss Bennett. I’m quite certain she will not appreciate the attitude.”
Samuel strode out of the room after Alexander’s withering glare. It didn’t help that his majordomo was right. He had been in a bloody awful mood all day. Alexander shrugged into his jacket and gave his appearance a once-over in the mirror. His tense shoulders interrupted the lines of the jacket. With a deep breath, he forced himself to relax. Spending the past day and a half trapped in stuffy conference rooms with even stuffier lawyers had soured his mood. Only the prospect of seeing Elizabeth tonight kept him sane.
He usually hated parties, but with Elizabeth at his side, perhaps the drudgery of arranged seating, speeches, and making small talk with some of his business associates wouldn’t be quite so awful. And later…she’d agreed to spend the night with him. He wanted her bound to his bed, blindfolded, and begging.
At Elizabeth’s door, Alexander fought the urge to fiddle with his tie as he waited for her to answer his knock.
When she did, he forgot to breathe.
Her golden locks tumbled from a messy up-do over her shoulders. Only a
hint of makeup enhanced her features, a touch of glitter to her eyelids, a shine of gloss on her lips. Her fingers fluttered over the string of citrine diamonds around her throat, the necklace, bracelet, and matching earrings on loan, with an option to buy.
Sparkling golden fabric swathed her body in gentle waves and curves.
The shimmering gown wrapped her in sunlight, and the heels put her at least three inches taller.
“Eliz—” He cleared his throat. “Elizabeth, you are a vision. Your hair…”
Alexander reached out to touch the silky locks, but she stepped back, nearly losing her balance. Gripping her elbow, he steadied her.
“No touching. Kelsey worked on me for two hours to get my hair to stay this way. If I’m photographed with my hair a mess, she’ll have my ass.”
“Kelsey doesn’t get your arse, chérie. I do.” Alexander slid his arm around her waist, fighting the urge to take her home and skip the ball completely. “Tonight, I intend to show you what I can do to you naked. You have been thinking about that, have you not?”
“Every night.”
Despite her quiet tone, she held his gaze, though her cheeks flushed a delicious shade of pink.
Alexander leaned in and brushed his lips to her cheek. The faint scent of almonds and gardenias wafted over him. He’d smelled that scent before. The night she’d come to dinner. “What else did the talented Kelsey do to you, Elizabeth?”
She squirmed, and the blush spread down her neck to her chest.
“What,” he kissed up to her earlobe and twirled his tongue around the drop of ice that dangled, “else.”
“She…ah…oh… She works at The Waxing Spa on Newbury Street.”
Elizabeth’s legs trembled as Alexander skimmed his hand down her hip until he found the slit in the dress just above her knee. Trailing the pads of his fingers as high as the dress would allow, he reveled in the tiny mewls and moans she made as she clutched at his shoulders.
“We should go before I lose all of my resolve and take you right here.”
Once Alexander was confident she could stand on her own, he stepped back enough to drink in the sight of her body again. Elizabeth clenched her fists at her sides, fighting for control of her breath.
He retrieved her wrap from the bedroom and, after drawing the flowing number in the same shimmering gold around her shoulders, Alexander
stopped her from securing the button.
“Allow me, Elizabeth. Trust me to take care of you in every way.” He fastened the button and rested his hands on her arms. “All night.”
“I don’t get a say in anything?” she asked. “You want me to be your slave? In public? I don’t think so.”
He barely stopped his jaw from dropping.
“I did some research.”
Alexander didn’t want a slave. No, that was his brother’s predilection, but knowing Elizabeth was comfortable enough to research what he might want and wasn’t bolting at the very mention, was promising.
“I will never be your Master, Elizabeth. The role has never interested me, and you…you are no slave. I am, however, your Dom, and perhaps one day, I will be more. Tonight, I ask you to put your trust in me. With the press, on the dance floor, and later…in the bedroom. You always have a say. You have a brilliant mind and a strong backbone, and I never want you to feel you cannot use them.”
A hint of a smile curved her lips, and she hadn’t dropped her gaze. Most subs he’d played with before were conditioned to never look their Dom in the eyes unless commanded to. He’d enjoyed the dynamic, on the surface, but the interactions had always left him wanting more. Now, he knew why.
Elizabeth’s strength and spirit made them equals, even when he commanded her.
Alexander offered her his arm. “You take my breath away.”
“And you look good enough to eat,” she said as they waited for the elevator and then immediately snapped her mouth shut, embarrassed.
Alexander laughed and pressed his lips to her temple. “Elizabeth, have you been drinking this afternoon?”
“I’ve had enough coffee to kill a horse,” she replied with a nervous laugh.
“I’m a little jittery. I didn’t want any alcohol. The last thing I needed was to get drunk before we talked to the press. But, shit. Once we get there, I could really use a glass of wine.”
He chuffed softly and pulled her closer. “I think I like you jittery. You stop thinking so much and let yourself feel. And speak your mind, apparently.
We will absolutely have wine. But no getting drunk tonight, for either of us.
Anything we do this evening will be done with your full awareness and consent. Not with impaired judgment.”
She looked up at him, suddenly serious. “I want you. Whatever else is
going on here, the chemistry between us is driving me mad. But I admit, I’m scared to death of what you want from me. And what will happen if I can’t…”
Respect welled inside him. He knew he could be intimidating. Hell, he’d built an empire on his reputation for ruthless business practices and brutal negotiation tactics. “You stagger me, Elizabeth.”
“For telling you I’m scared?” She frowned, confusion knitting her brows.
“Yes.” He glared at the ancient elevator as the door slid open, hoping to scare the contraption into delivering them safely to the ground floor. As the car shuddered, he met her gaze. “What we have…goes far beyond simple chemistry, I think. Know this. Nothing will happen without your consent, and if you need to stop, use your safeword, and we will stop. Fear is natural. But I do not honestly think you could ever disappoint me as long as you are honest with me and with yourself.”
The air in the elevator hung thick with tension until Elizabeth grinned.
“Well, I’m hungry. And again, you do look rather tasty.”
Elizabeth stared out the window as the glittering city streamed by, holiday lights in full splendor. Snow fell gently, dotting the sidewalks, coming to rest on the shoulders of men, women, and children bundled up in warm winter coats. A lightness infused her every movement today, unlike so many days before. Perhaps, they’d turned a corner now that they’d cleared the air about the lawsuit and Alexander’s spectacularly poor manners on FaceTime.
At the Omni Parker House Hotel, thick, red carpet covered the stairs leading to the lobby with Christmas trees standing sentry on each side of the door. Sparkling white lights, red velvet ribbons, and golden stars added to the magic of the season.
Thomas opened the door, and Alexander alighted first, scanning the crowd. A smattering of reporters and photographers, plenty of security.
Excellent.
As he helped Elizabeth to her feet, he marveled at her grace. A camera flash went off two feet away. Her fingers tightened on his, but she didn’t otherwise react. Alexander gave her hand a gentle squeeze, leaned over, and whispered in her ear. “Do not expect me to ever stop touching you tonight, chérie. I simply cannot get enough of you.” Elizabeth blushed as he pressed a kiss to her neck. “The press will jump on us when we get inside. Are you ready?”
“I guess.”
Tucking Elizabeth’s hand in the crook of his arm, he led her up the steps of the hotel and into the opulent lobby. With his best playboy smile firmly in place, he eased the cloak from her shoulders, then folded the wrap over his arm as he leaned in closer. “It looks like someone detonated a Christmas bomb in here. There may not be any spare lights left in the city.”
Elizabeth laughed, tried to stifle it, and nearly ended up snorting. She glared at him. “You’re awful. You know that, right?”
Perhaps, but he’d coaxed a laugh out of her, and that was worth it. A few feet into the room, a shrill voice called his name. “Alexander Fairhaven! A moment for WGBH?”
Alexander turned smoothly with Elizabeth tucked close to his body. “Of course. Miss…?”
“Paige Denick, Style Reporter.”
The thin, waifish woman offered him a limp handshake. Her burly videographer hefted a large camera on his shoulder. As a red light winked on, the reporter smoothed her bright red hair and cleared her throat.
“You’ve been almost a recluse these past few weeks, Mr. Fairhaven,”
Paige teased. “Other than the short time you put in at the Jimmy Fund benefit, you’ve been out of the public eye for nearly two months.”
“Can you blame me?” he asked, pausing to tip Elizabeth’s face up and plant a gentle kiss on her lips. “And please, call me Alexander. This is Elizabeth Bennett, my reason for staying in as of late.”
“Of late? How long has this been going on, Alexander? Forgive me, but you’re not known for your long-term relationships. In fact, I don’t honestly recall you ever being seen with the same woman twice?” The reporter’s tone was sweet, but her eyes hardened, and she pinned Elizabeth with an icy stare.
Elizabeth straightened her shoulders. The motion caused the citrine diamonds to wink in the bright lights of the hotel lobby. “Alexander and I have been seeing each other for several weeks now. And as for his past
exploits, they are none of my concern, or yours, Miss Denick.”
Alexander chuckled as pride bloomed in his chest. “Elizabeth is right, Paige. The past is most definitely the past. This lovely woman is my present, and I hope, my future.”
Elizabeth pressed closer to him and gave a seductive laugh, but he could feel her discomfort. They were dancing towards dangerous territory—
commitment. All before they’d even slept together.
“How did the two of you meet?” Paige asked them.
Elizabeth blushed and gave Paige a brief, rehearsed summary of their first meeting. “I’m afraid he had to work quite hard to get me to agree to a date, though. Given his reputation. However, I’m pleased I stopped listening to all of the gossip-mongering and gave him a chance. He’s nothing like what the press makes him out to be.”
“Elizabeth brings out a side of me I didn’t know existed,” Alexander replied.
“And what do you do, Miss Bennett?”
Elizabeth’s fingers dug into his arm. Ben had prepared them for the question, but though she offered the practiced answer with apparent ease, Alexander felt her anxiety.
“Currently, I do a lot of volunteer work. I recently left a demanding position that left me unfulfilled, and I’m taking the next month or so to enjoy myself a bit and give back to the community that’s nourished me for more than five years. But I have a business degree from Harvard, and I’m a licensed accountant, so after the first of the year, I’ll be working freelance.
Tax time approaches quickly.”
“Now, Paige, you have grilled my lovely Elizabeth enough for one evening, and I fear we are expected upstairs,” Alexander purred. “It was an experience meeting you.”
The reporter narrowed her eyes at him as he steered Elizabeth towards the elevator. They were almost out of earshot when she spoke to her videographer. “I wonder how long he plans on keeping this one around.”
Alexander stiffened and couldn’t help the feral sound that rumbled in his chest. He turned back to the reporter, a quick glance at the camera ensuring the red light was dark. “As long as she’ll have me,” he said, unable to keep the venom from his voice. “And I’ll thank you to treat her with more respect from now on or your network will lose a substantial investor and your boss will receive a personal call from me explaining why.”
Paige sputtered out a hasty apology while Alexander wrapped a protective arm around Elizabeth’s waist and pulled her against him.
“I suppose that’s going to be a common reaction,” Elizabeth murmured.
“Don’t listen to her.” Alexander jabbed the button for the twentieth floor.
When the elevator doors closed, cocooning them protectively in the ornately paneled box, Alexander pressed Elizabeth against the back wall and crushed his lips to hers. He took possession with tongue and teeth, eliciting a low, throaty moan from the pliant woman in his arms.
She gazed up at him with half-lidded eyes after he pulled back. “What…
was that…for?”
“You are mine, Elizabeth.” Alexander cupped her neck. “I cultivated my playboy reputation. I let the press think I was aloof, impossible to tame or corral. It was easier that way. But I regret that now if it causes you even one second of grief.”
The elevator doors opened, sparing Alexander from hearing Elizabeth’s protestations. “Ready for a party, chérie?”
“No more reporters?” she asked.
“Oh, there will be more, I am certain, but they will be print or web only.
No video cameras up here.” He smiled and offered her his arm again. Not more than three steps out of the elevator, a flash went off in their faces.
Elizabeth teetered for a moment, unsteady, but Alexander’s arm held her up.
“Tami-Lynne Thorne, Mr. Fairhaven. I’m sorry for the flash. I write for the Boston Globe. A few minutes of your time?”
They repeated the dance again and again. The Globe, the Post, and even the local weekly gossip rag. Elizabeth was charming, holding her own but deferring to Alexander for questions surrounding the timing of their relationship and their holiday plans. “A couple must keep some secrets, wouldn’t you agree?” he said to one particularly determined reporter.
Throughout the rounds, he never stopped touching her. A kiss to her neck here, playing with a lock of her hair there. It was well after eight when they extricated themselves from the requisite interviews, chit-chat, and introductions to his various business associates and found their seats at a silver cloth-covered table set with the finest crystal, flatware, and china. A perfect poinsettia graced the center. Nicholas and his slave, the not-so-brilliant Candy, were already seated, and Nicholas stood when they approached.
