I don’t know how she manages to not say, “And you wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.” At any rate, I can only meet her rueful gaze with a small smile.

“I shouldn’t be kissing and telling. If she’s not telling you, her good friend, something… then perhaps it isn’t any of your business.”

Of course, this isn’t going to fly with her. Eva is the type of woman who wants to be obeyed yesterday. On The Dark Hour grapevine, both from friends and subs I’ve hooked up with, Eva has a lot of fun taunting people and dragging them on silly sexual adventures. Why would her bantering with me be any different?

Although this bantering could quickly turn ugly. She’s also the type of woman to protect her friend if, for some reason, she thought there was a problem.

Eva Warren is the type of woman to always think there is a problem.

“She’s not telling me because she’s a proud woman who doesn’t want to admit she’s submitting to the likes of you.”

Well, we went straight to my jugular.

“I could understand her not wanting to admit that she’s submitting, but what the fuck is wrong with me?”

“Come off it, Mathers.” Eva slips off the stool, lording her height over me. Sheesh, these Warrens are ridiculous. Are their parents giants? “Everyone knows that you’re the type of Dom who flits from girl to girl looking for his kicks for the night, but rarely comes back for seconds. I’ve heard quite a few heartbroken girls rage about you at the club.”

“Before fucking them yourself, of course.”

“Not always. You ever hear of sexual preference? My greatest enemy.”

“I’m sure it is.”

“Look, Mathers, I’m sure you’re a decent guy. I’m sure you give a girl looking for it a good time. Why wouldn’t you?”

Where is this going…

“But you walked into a new playground when you set your sights on Kathryn. I don’t know what you’re doing to her, but it’s making her skittish and the most insecure I’ve ever seen her. I shouldn’t approach you two in a restaurant and watch her cower. She won’t tell me anything about you. I’ll have you know that Kathryn used to be one of the most formidable women I knew. What the fuck have you done to my friend?”

She’s speaking softly, but I feel her threats shaking in my veins… not that I show I’m feeling that. Not good to show weakness in front of Eva. Or any Warren, for that matter.

“I’ve done nothing she didn’t ask for.”

“Oh, Ian.” Her sigh is melodramatic, like the roll of her eyes and the swish of her hair. “You’re dominating a Domme. You’re forgetting that.”

“I’m not forgetting that.” I’m reminded every other day.

“Yes, you are. On the surface you know that Kathryn likes taking men for trips to Dominationville, but I’ve never gotten the feeling that she’s a switch. She’s been eating and drinking her role – as a woman, no less – for years. You can’t suddenly dominate her and not expect something to be going on…”

“Why are you talking to me about this? Shouldn’t you be talking to her?” My patience is wearing thin. If Eva doesn’t cut to the chase and leave on her own soon, I might have to throw her out. I’m not in the mood to play her games. Especially after waking up feeling like a fucking king in my own bed.

Eva tsks. “I would, if she would return my messages. So I’m coming to you before I go storm down her door. I figure, if something’s bothering her to the point she can’t tell me about it, something smells like you.”

Before I can erupt like a freakin’ child, I clear my throat and take a deep breath. My fingers grip my arms, madly. “I have no intention of hurting Kathryn. In fact…” I’m probably going to regret this. “We’re in love.”

A man’s home is supposed to be an escapist’s paradise. No awkward silences allowed. And yet here Eva and I are, staring each other down as she narrows her brows and acts as if she smells something foul.

She plucks a knife out of its holder, eyes it, looks at me, and then slams the knife back where it belongs.

Yeah, I get the point. Way to be a stereotype though, Eva.

“Do you love her? Because she hasn’t said fuckall about loving you.”

I keep my balance steady. My voice… well, it has its own issues. “I do. And she’s told me that she loves me. We’re working it out from there.”

Eva looks away, studying my flooring before glancing back at me. She no longer looks angry. She doesn’t even look concerned.

She looks… sad.

“Fuck her all you want, Mathers.” She steps away, staring at me over her shoulder. “Just don’t fuck with her. Don’t lead her on. Don’t tell her that you love her unless you really, truly mean it. Don’t. Don’t change who she is, don’t make her change at all, unless you’re absolutely, really, 100% sure that you want her for more than your tickled fancy lasts.”

My front door opens. The cat pokes her head out of the library.

“I don’t want to pick up the pieces of a broken woman who doesn’t know who she is anymore. Treat her well, or I’ll have to treat you quite unwell. By the way… thanks for the dress.”

She leaves.

Her caution stays behind.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 14

 

KATHRYN

 

One of the people at the top of my “probably should not go see” list is Caroline Grant-Mathers, and yet here I am, standing on the doorstep of her city townhouse.

A woman I don’t recognize answers the door. Her pressed, conservative black dress gives off the air of the one piece of help Caroline would keep employed. Yes, she’s a woman who would try to run a household all on her own to prove that she could, but she’s got her limitations like anyone else, and what woman of a certain age wouldn’t want to hire someone to take care of a medium-sized house worth millions of dollars?

That will probably be me someday.

“Could you please tell the mistress that…”

I’m interrupted before I can finish speaking to this sullen woman of about forty-five. Interrupted by a very unsullen woman of about fifty.

“Kathryn? Oh, let her in, Greta! And get her some tea!”

I’m swept up in greetings, kisses, and pats to my hand as I’m led to the parlor at the back of Caroline’s house. She has a chess board set up, halfway through a game with either herself or Greta, but thankfully she does not ask me to play. I’ve already turned down Ian enough times since I don’t care much for chess.

I sit in an antique chair that has been recently reupholstered, making it soft and luxurious. Caroline sits ninety-degrees to me, motioning to a tea set placed by Greta only five seconds before. “Please help yourself, dear. I recently got a shipment from Belgium. You wouldn’t think of Belgium when it comes to tea, but…”

“Not right now, thanks.”

Caroline is taken aback. “Oh, no, what have I done this time to make everyone so snippy?”

“Done?”

“Don’t suppose you’ve come here to put me in my place again.” Caroline smiles, but I can tell she’s still wounded by my previous words. Come to think of it, she hasn’t said a word about Ian and me in the weeks since that painful family lunch.

I shake my head. “You haven’t done anything. I’ve come here to get some advice.”

Her manicured eyebrows rise. “Business?” She leans in, even though Greta has long since left the room. “Or personal?”

I can’t meet her gaze without blushing. “Personal.”

“Oh, dear, I asked the wrong question. Ahem. What has my son done this time?”

I might as well rip off this Band-Aid. “Made me fall in love with him.”

Not sure what to expect, I brace myself. Caroline doesn’t squeal. She doesn’t huff. She doesn’t even change her expression, other than to play with the charm around her neck. I recognize such a thing. Seems provincial, although I’m sure the birthstone is genuine.