Restrained Box Set: Boston Doms Books 1-4, page 4
“Alexander, we can’t do this. I’m...what I mean to say is that...shit. Men like you don’t date women like me.”
“Women like what? Intelligent? Witty? Am I some sort of cretin? An ogre with such poor manners that I would embarrass you at dinner?”
“No, but I’ve been in your type of social circle before. You need someone who’ll stand up to scrutiny in the press. Someone who doesn’t live on Hollander Street and shop at Goodwill. Regardless of my former station in life, right now I don’t have a job, and my bank account is hemorrhaging.”
And I’m involved in a sticky situation with your accounting firm.
“I do not care what your financial situation is,” he snapped. Then he sighed, and his voice softened. “That came out wrong. I care very deeply that you are struggling, Elizabeth. But not for the reasons you believe. Do you know how long it has been since I found a woman I could converse intelligently with? A woman who did not want me only for my bank account?
My position in life?”
“I don’t know. The society pages aren’t my home. They’re yours. Didn’t you date Pippa for a time? How am I supposed to follow that?”
“You don’t have to. Pippa is a lovely woman, but she and I have nothing in common. I did accompany her to the theater once at my mother’s urging, but we didn’t hit it off. Nary a peck passed between us.”
“You don’t have to justify yourself to me, Alexander. I’ve no claim on you.” She didn’t want to hear about his dates.
“Bugger it. Can we simply chat? I have several social obligations this morning, none of which promise to offer me anything stimulating in the way
of conversation. Being needled by my mother’s friends is not my idea of a rousing good time. You are a bit of sunlight amid all of this dreary rain we are having in London. And I’d hoped that you would agree to have lunch with me on Monday when I return.”
“That’s not a good idea,” she said quietly.
“Lunch is almost always a good idea.”
Elizabeth couldn’t stop herself from laughing at the matter-of-fact tone he’d used. “Touché. Skipping meals isn’t usually a good idea. Still, what are you expecting from me?”
“I enjoy hearing you laugh. Will you stay up for a bit? I realize it’s late there.”
“I don’t have a job. There isn’t exactly a reason for me to get up early in the morning. Why will your mother’s friends needle you?”
“Because I am thirty-five and have not had a relationship that lasted more than three dates in almost a decade. My mother feels as if she is entitled to a grandchild. Neither my brother nor I are inclined to give her one.”
Elizabeth set aside her laptop. “Your brother is older?”
She slid down so she was curled on her side with River tucked against her, purring.
“Yes. Nicholas just turned forty. We both have certain...unconventional requirements in a partner. Nicholas needs a woman with an extreme submissive nature. He currently lives his life as a Master. You know what that is, yes?”
“You’re talking about BDSM.” Something in Elizabeth’s core warmed at the thought. She’d always preferred her sex vanilla and quick. Orgasms were nice, but they were messy and usually left her wanting.
“Yes. But while Nicholas has a complete power exchange with his current slave, I don’t want that. I prefer a true partner. One who enjoys my silks, the tools I use as a Dom, but who does not wish me in control of her life outside of the bedroom.”
His voice oozed heat, and Elizabeth squirmed under her cheap cotton sheets.
“Oh.”
“Does this frighten you, Elizabeth?”
“No. But I’m not a submissive, Alexander. Once or twice, I’ve thought it might be fun to be blindfolded, but that’s as far as I’d ever take it.”
“You are indeed a submissive, chérie. I knew it the very first time I spoke
to you. When I return, I will show you the truth of your nature if you will allow it. I admit that the vision of you in my silks has haunted my dreams each night since we met. Perhaps this is why I have not slept.” He sounded amused. A knock echoed through the phone. “I’ll be a moment, Elizabeth. I believe my breakfast has arrived.”
Elizabeth hung up on him. How dare he? She was no one’s plaything or wet dream. Especially not his. She fired off a quick text.
If you’d like to “chat” as friends, that’s one thing, but nothing will ever come of it. No more talk of sex, or submissives, or whatever the hell your silks are. And stop fantasizing about me when you jerk off. I’m going to bed now.
The phone rang, but Elizabeth sent it to voice mail. A text flashed on the screen a moment later.
Please do not deny me the only light I have had in my days, Elizabeth.
Your voice, your wit, your sense of humor.
And then another.
I am sorry that I have offended you. You unsettle me. A feeling I am quite unused to.
Foregoing an answer, she turned the phone off completely.
CHAPTER FOUR
A lexander spent the whole day cursing his honesty. He wanted Elizabeth like he had wanted no other woman. But despite his desire to see her lovingly restrained, he wanted her mind even more.
She was smart, funny, and unassuming. She said what she meant, not what he wanted to hear and he couldn’t wait to return to Boston, if for no other reason than he would be in the same city as this delightful, infuriating, and beautiful woman he’d found himself fascinated with.
“You are distracted, Alexander,” his mother chided after the third time he’d asked her to repeat herself.
Heat crept up his neck and flushed his cheeks. Suddenly he was ten years old again. Only his mother could bring about that reaction. “Apologies.
Please forgive me. What did you ask me?”
“This woman you’re so taken with,” Margaret mused. “She must be quite something to put you in such a state.” His mother’s blue eyes danced under her wrinkled brows. She might’ve been getting up there in years, but her mind was as sharp as a tack.
“She’s brilliant. Harvard-educated, beautiful. And completely maddening.
She refuses to believe I could be interested in her. I intend to prove it to her when I get back.” Alexander ran a hand through his wavy black hair. “Her name is Elizabeth.”
“Does she know what you need in a lover?”
“Mother!” The last thing he wanted to do was discuss his bedroom proclivities with his mum.
“Your lifestyle hasn’t been a secret for some time. Nor has your brother’s. I do not care what either of you does in the bedroom as long as it doesn’t besmirch my name or our company. But you did not answer my question.”
“She knows a bit. But this discussion is premature. We’ve not been on a single successful date.”
“Well, get on it then.”
He smiled. “I intend to.”
Thomas drove Alexander to Elizabeth’s neighborhood late the next morning. The harsh tone of her buzzer set him further on edge.
“Yes?” she answered, her tone weary.
“Elizabeth, may I take you to breakfast?”
“Oh God. Alexander, what the hell are you doing here? I told you, I’m not interested in a relationship.”
“A meal does not make a relationship. I have a favor to ask of you, and I’m peckish. I thought we might revisit the Thinking Cup with better results.
Or if you’d like something more substantial, I have a diner in mind.”
“I’m not even dressed yet.”
“It is nearly ten. Are you ill?”
A long pause. “No. I...haven’t been sleeping much lately.”
“Elizabeth, I’m worried about you now. This is hardly the way to get me to leave.” Alexander entered the code he’d memorized the day they’d first met, and the door clicked open. “I’m coming up.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she said and severed the connection.
By the time he’d climbed the stairs to her floor, she was dressed in a pair of worn jeans and a green sweater. The dark smudges under her eyes alarmed him, as did her pallor.
Even so, she took his breath away. The subtle swells of her breasts filled out the sweater nicely, and her feet were bare and slim, with deliciously red toenails. He dragged his gaze away from her with some difficulty and stared past her.
From what little he could see, her flat was a mess. Papers were strewn about her coffee table, her laptop was on the floor, and a blanket lay crumpled next to the couch. A clutter of mugs spoke of hours or even days spent without a break.
“Working?” he finally asked.
Following his gaze to the mess in her living room, she blushed. “I’m trying to get organized. You’ve been out of town less than a week. I haven’t found a job if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Relax, Elizabeth. I was only trying to make conversation.” Alexander stepped forward and touched her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed for a single breath, and she leaned into his palm. Too soon, she stepped back. He tried not to let his disappointment show. “You look knackered. When was the last time you had a decent meal?”
“I had a grilled cheese last night,” she said defensively. “And you’re not my mother.”
“No. Definitely not. Come to breakfast with me. I’ve missed you these past few days.” He smiled and withdrew a tin of her favorite tea from his coat pocket. “A peace offering.”
She made no move to take the green tin. “I feel like this is made of strings.”
“As in strings attached to my offer? No. No strings, chérie. Silk or otherwise. As I told you, I’m peckish. Both for food and for your wit. Indulge a jet-lagged and desperate man?” He held the tin of tea out in front of him.
Elizabeth huffed and plucked the canister from his hand. “Fine. Let me get my shoes and put on a better shirt.”
“You look fine the way you are,” Alexander insisted as she left him in the hallway. He was dressed casually himself: jeans, brown leather loafers, and a burnt orange sweater. Still, her terse acceptance rang like melodious bells in his ears.
A few minutes later, Elizabeth emerged with her thin rain coat and a knit hat that hid her hair. He’d been right about that luxurious mane. It did shine, and he ached to run his fingers through it, to grab the thick locks, and gently, but firmly, angle her head back so he could nibble her throat.
He offered his elbow to accept Elizabeth’s hand. She kept looking up at him, her eyes uncertain.
“Are you hungry?” he asked her once they’d descended the four flights of stairs.
She slid across the supple leather seat in the back of his limo. “Yes.”
“Mike’s Diner, Thomas,” Alexander said as he took the seat across from Elizabeth. He wanted to touch her, but he didn’t think it would be welcome.
The ride passed largely in silence, Elizabeth fiddling with the belt on her coat and Alexander unable to look away.
At the diner, they found two seats at the counter, and soon they had cups of coffee and plates of eggs Benedict in front of them.
“I cannot get you out of my mind, Elizabeth.”
Her eyes widened, and he caught the hitch in her breath and the flush on her cheeks.
Alexander reached over and brushed a knuckle along her jaw. “I think about you every morning when I wake up and every night when I fall asleep.
But I do not only want you in my bed. I want you in my life. You say you won’t fit in my social circles, but I say you will. You’re a Harvard-educated woman. Summa cum laude? And before you say anything, I did not research you.”
Her lips twitched into a small smile. “Magna cum laude. I got pneumonia in my third year. One of my professors was a dick and refused to let me make up an exam.” She forked up a bite of eggs and washed it down with a sip of coffee. Her eyes fluttered, and a satisfied moan escaped her lips. “I haven’t had eggs Benedict this good in years.”
“I’m pleased. Elizabeth, you are brilliant. And you are lovely. You carry yourself with such grace. You know who you are. Well, mostly. I still believe there is a true submissive inside those walls you’ve erected around your heart.” Alexander leaned closer. “Give me a chance. Please. Do you find me a pleasant companion? Enjoy talking to me?”
“I changed my mobile plan so I had unlimited text messages,” she admitted. “I had to drop my cable to do it.”
Alexander chuckled. “And I was late to the office every day while I was in London. My mother interrogated me that last day after you hung up on me.
She could see the effect you had on me. Let us see where this goes, shall we?
I have a fundraiser to attend on Friday night. A black-tie ball for the Jimmy Fund. Come with me. If you don’t, I’ll be stuck with my brother and his insufferable date for the evening.”
Elizabeth set down her fork and folded her napkin. The dark cloud that settled over her features dimmed Alexander’s smile immediately. “The nicest dress I own cost less than your socks, Alexander. I would not fit in. I can’t go with you.”
“Nonsense. I can easily have a dress sent over for you.”
Elizabeth slid off her stool. “I’m not one of your causes. You can’t throw money at me and expect that it’ll fix everything or make me come to heel and be your pet. I don’t need you to swoop in and save the day.”
“I am well aware of that, Elizabeth. You are a strong and beautiful woman who has found herself in circumstances unbefitting of her intelligence, kind heart, and moral code. I can help. Why won’t you allow me to do so? I’m not asking you to let me pay your rent, move you into one of my properties, or find you a job, though I would be happy to do any of those things. But right now, I am offering a dress. Nothing more.”
He barely suppressed his ire. Any other woman would have jumped at the chance to join him. But every other woman he’d dated paled in comparison to Elizabeth.
“No.” She shook her head. “No dresses. No meals. They all come with strings. And right now, I have enough on my mind without figuring out how to escape your knots.” She shoved her hand into her pocket and withdrew a crumpled twenty-dollar bill. Tossing the cash in the middle of his plate of eggs, she said, “Good bye. Enjoy the party. Don’t call me again.”
Before Alexander could rise, Elizabeth stalked out of the diner and disappeared down the street.
How dare Alexander try to buy her with an expensive dress and celebrity shoulder-rubbing.
“I am not submissive,” she muttered over a dinner of stale popcorn and half a bottle of wine. River butted her head against Elizabeth’s ankle. “You don’t think I’m submissive, do you, sweetie?” The cat meowed and rolled over. River was submissive. Not her.
Merlot sloshed into her glass, more than was prudent. She didn’t want to stay sober tonight. Loneliness pressed in on her like an unforgiving prison from which she had no escape. Not even wine could unlock the cell. When
Alexander had buzzed her this morning, she’d allowed herself a brief moment of hope. He desired her. No one had desired her for a very long time.
By the time she climbed into bed, the effects of her over indulgence had largely worn off, and only the headache remained. She looked longingly at her phone. Dammit, she missed him.
Enough, she chided herself.
Alexander was a rich man, and he was used to getting what he wanted.
Darren, her last serious boyfriend back in Seattle, had been the same way.
They’d dated for five years. She’d found him rude and dismissive at first, but at her parents’ urging, she’d tried to adapt to his strong personality. She’d adapted too well. Within a year, they’d been living in an apartment he chose, eating at restaurants he liked, and associating with his friends—not hers.
He’d told her what to wear and how to act. Gradually at first. Snide comments about her preference for loose sweaters. Glares when she laughed too loudly for his tastes. A raised brow when she took a second helping of dessert. Every time they had a social engagement, he’d bring home a dress or pick something out of her closet that he liked. She hated it, but she’d never said a word. He signed her up for a gym because she’d gained five pounds and even went so far as to have meals delivered to their apartment to try to help her stick to the diet he’d prescribed.
Darren’s true colors came out when her parents disowned her. By then he was one of Seattle’s best cardiologists and flush with cash.
A few tears escaped her eyes, and she dashed them away. The controlling, arrogant asshole wasn’t worth her tears. Nor was Alexander.
CHAPTER FIVE
O n Tuesday morning, there was a potted African Violet outside her door.
Elizabeth, the only string here is the one attached to this card. I keep offending you. For that, I am sorry.
“Nice try, but I’m not buying it.” She left the plant on the mail table on the first floor on her way out of the building.
The snow swirled in violent eddies along the street and blew up her deep blue pencil skirt as she trudged to the T station. Pants would have been smarter.
Huddled against the train’s window, she held onto the strap above her head to stay upright. She wrinkled her nose at the odd smells—eggs, stale sweat, and a hint of urine.
Her phone found its way to her hand without conscious thought. No messages. Dammit.
She scrolled back through some of the older texts she and Alexander had exchanged, unable to hide her smile.
He’d told her several times that she was lovely or beautiful, but mostly he’d complimented her personality and the stories she’d told about her life.
He never failed to ask about her day and seemed genuinely interested in the little things she had to say.
She’d learned much about him through those messages. His preference for running over cycling. His love of red wine, scotch, and a thick steak. And he was kind to his employees. That she’d discovered when he’d asked her opinion on the best holiday bonus for them.
