Chapter One
Unraveled
William Kyle
The Present
Gripping the top of the polished banister, Kyle’s head pounded, the same six words running through his mind like a twisted mantra.
How can Amy have done this? How can Amy have done this?
How?
That singular question resonated until he was forced to rub his temple to tackle the relentless throb. The ‘how’ seemed inconceivable, but he knew the ‘why’ was also important.
Why was she behaving that way?
Things had been good between them, hadn’t they? Hell, since Jonah’s problems had been resolved, his little girl had relaxed and leaned on him all the more. As far as he was concerned, those days had been the fucking best time of his life.
The reality of what he stood to lose robbed him of breath as he struggled with the pain.
“Amy.” His chest was tight with anxiety. “Why did you have to ruin us ?”
Descending the first few steps, though, another thought nagged—that the events unraveling in his home were also his responsibility. He paused at that, grasping the rail again.
He was culpable.
Not only because he’d left the old tenancy files around for her to find but also because he had been the man who’d rolled the dice and catapulted her life toward financial crisis.
For good reason . He glanced around his enormous entranceway. I needed them to pay more rent. It wasn’t my fault they couldn’t afford it.
But even that wasn’t the honest truth. If Kyle had been so perturbed by the loss of income the Kendals represented, he would have evicted them right from the get-go. He’d have been well within his rights to do so.
“But I didn’t.” And he knew why.
Amy.
His attention darted back in the direction of his bedroom.
There had been no discernible noise from her since he’d locked her in his bedroom, and after the threats he’d bandied, he was relieved. He was prepared to play the bad guy to compel her compliance. It was, after all, a role he was all too familiar with, but where she was concerned, he wasn’t sure how heavy-handed he could be.
She’d caught him off guard with the tenancy records, triggering his anger and paranoia, and for one brief moment, he’d almost lost control. Drawing in a sharp breath, he recalled how he’d hauled her over his shoulder and marched her up the exact stairs he stood on.
Had he been in control then?
He couldn’t genuinely say so, and that thought terrified him. Whatever she’d said or done, he meant what he’d been telling her—he did love her—and those feelings hadn’t evaporated because she’d discovered his old files.
Those feelings will never wane.
Amy might be the one handcuffed to his bed, but in many ways, he was the one who was captured, and the truth was, her spell had been cast long before they’d met in the store that day. She’d entranced him, whether she realized it or not, and however strong the tempest swirling in his system had been, she always would.
“Get yourself together, Kyle.”
Shaking his head, he growled the words as he handled the remaining steps. Whatever happened, he needed to think. Amy’s welfare had been his concern for a while, but tethered to his bed, that need was more pressing than ever.
He’d reached the bottom of the staircase before Stevens came into sight.
“Mr. Kyle?” Stevens thrust his hands into his pockets as he edged closer. “Do you have a moment?”
“Stevens.” His driver’s tentative approach made him wonder how long the guy had been standing there. Straightening his lapels, Kyle fought for composure. “Is there a problem?”
Stevens had been driving him for years, and he knew his employer relatively well, but their relationship was purely professional. Before Amy, he’d never so much as socialized with an employee before, but then she’d always been destined to be more than one of his workers. The contract he’d made her sign had only been an elaborate ruse.
He’d had the sense for a while that his driver didn’t approve of his burgeoning romance with Amy, but Stevens’ censure was irrelevant. The man worked for him—nothing more. He didn’t need, nor looked for, his staff’s opinions on his personal life. The idea that Stevens had been witness to any part of Kyle’s spiraling thoughts, though, was something entirely more disquieting. Kyle had an air of professional integrity to maintain.
“I was wondering if you needed me today, sir.” One hand fell from his pocket to his side. “There’s nothing on my schedule, and I’ve already cleaned the fleet of vehicles inside and out.”
“Right.” Kyle’s brow rose. In the haze of lust-filled days with Amy, there had been fewer and fewer travel requirements. “Thanks for checking in. I understand you’re at a loose end, but I don’t have any new needs at this time.”
“What about Ms. Kendal?” Stevens’ gaze floated toward the stairs, twisting paranoid unease in Kyle’s stomach.
How did Stevens know that was where she was? Had he seen Kyle dragging her from the study to the bedroom?
“What about her?” Kyle’s clipped tone no doubt revealed more of his hand than he’d have liked.
Even if Stevens hadn’t witnessed anything that played out earlier, he would notice Kyle’s short tone compared to the usual loving one he employed where Amy was concerned.
“Will she require my services?” The driver shifted from one foot to the other as though he sensed the ice he was skating on was thinning.
“No.” Of that much, Kyle was certain. Amy wasn’t going anywhere. “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off, Stevens?”
“ Off , sir?” Steven’s brows knitted as if he couldn’t believe Kyle’s suggestion.
He supposed the response was fair. In all the years Stevens had driven for Kyle, he’d never expressed a desire that his employees take spontaneous time off. It was the definition of ‘out of character’.
“Yes.” Kyle feigned a nonchalance he wasn’t feeling. “Take some time for yourself. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“Oh.” Stevens clearly didn’t know what to say to that. “Well, th-thank you, sir. I hate to ask, but will I be paid for this time off?”
“What?”
Kyle’s thoughts had already returned to the beguiling woman cuffed in his bedroom. She’d been silent so far, but who was to say her obedience would continue? If she screamed, would Stevens be able to hear her, and what would his normally reliable driver make of the plea?
He and Amy had screwed their way around the house, so Stevens had surely grown used to their flirtatious banter, but her crying out for help would be something completely different.
But if Stevens saw me carrying her up the stairs, he’d have heard her cries for help, then. Kyle’s heart sped up. And he’d have ignored them.
What did that mean?
Was Stevens sincerely as loyal as he seemed, or could he have snuck off to call the authorities after seeing Amy hauled into submission?
Shit. Kyle had no way of knowing either way.
The sense of impotency was suffocating.
“The time off today.” Stevens frowned, as though he regretted mentioning it. “Will I be paid for it, sir?”
“Yes, of course.” Kyle scowled, hardly believing Stevens would even query the idea. When , in all those long years, had he not paid him over the odds for his service? “Anything else, Stevens?”
“No, sir.” The driver looked desperate to get away. “Thank you again.”
Kyle watched as he slipped out toward the kitchen, no doubt en route back to the garages before he locked up for the day. With Leonard on his well-overdue annual leave and no new housekeeper to replace Amy, the house would finally be empty. That would buy him some time to placate his wayward wildcat and decide what came next.
Allowing Stevens time to clear the area, he glanced around the vast entrance of Brock Hall, remembering the numerous places he’d claimed her right there in the lobby. Those memories usually filled him with a deep sense of fulfillment, but standing there, an unwelcome void seemed to have opened up in its place. The intimacy he’d shared with Amy was the greatest of his life, but to know they’d hit the rocks over something as futile as the fact he was once her landlord was infuriating.
I should have told her. A crease appeared in his brow as he trudged toward the kitchen. If I’d just told her, then none of this would have happened.
But he hadn’t told her, and if truth be known, he hadn’t even been tempted to.
The past was, he believed, a fine source of impetus, driving him forward, but it belonged exclusively to him. He hadn’t told Amy, not out of some altruistic plan to save her the upset, but because he believed his history was none of her business. The fact he happened to know so much about her past, her marriage, and her debts had turned out to be fortuitous, but it didn’t mean he’d been compelled to share his own journey.
Hypocrite. His lips twitched at the critique. I want to know all about her, but I won’t share anything about myself.
No wonder she’s so angry.
His focus flitted back to the sprawling, galleried landing upstairs. He’d expected to hear her frustrated calls, but instead, only quiet met his questions. He should have been pleased, having cautioned her to keep the peace, but the hush only seemed to tighten the knot of foreboding in his stomach.
It was strange for Amy to be so biddable when she was in trouble. She could play the well-trained submissive when in the mood, but obstinate defiance had turned out to be her standard response to anything she disliked.
And she dislikes this.
Her scathing expression and no-nonsense words had well and truly conveyed her displeasure, so he couldn’t comprehend her sudden silence.
Something must be wrong.
He didn’t want to think about what that might mean, though inevitably, his thoughts started to catastrophize.
What if she’d found the key to the cuffs?
His pulse quickened as he paced into his enormous kitchen. She’d be out of his room and loose before he knew it, possibly even fleeing the house if she could get away with it. Panic seared across his chest at the debilitating idea, but he shoved it aside. She wouldn’t find the key because it was currently stowed away safely in his personal safe.
But what if she yanked so hard at the metal bracelet that she damaged her delicate wrist? The concept that his treatment had caused her any tangible harm distressed him. He’d promised to look after her, and he meant to.
“For God’s sake!” Finding a tray hidden in one of the dozens of cupboards, he slammed it on the counter. “Enough speculation!”
The only way to know why she was quiet was to get up there and discover for himself. Raiding the fridge for snacks, he placed them on the tray, along with two glasses of water. Whatever happened, she’d need to be fed and watered while she was there, and the mini-fridge in his bedroom had little more than an emergency bottle of champagne.
“All right, little girl.”
Carrying the tray back to the exit, he abandoned the kitchen to solitude.
“Let’s see how good you’ve really been.”