Chapter Four
Revelations
Kyle
‘We need to talk.’
They must have been the four most dreaded words in any adult conversation, but staring at his little girl, he didn’t see a flicker of concern in her expression.
“Oh.” That was all she said as she shifted on the bed. “And then you’ll release me?”
Jesus.
All she’d done since he’d walked back into the room was bleat on about the cuffs. It wasn’t as though he’d left her in a severe stress position. When had her tolerance for bondage become so low? She always seemed to love his binds before.
“Keep being my good girl, and I’ll think about it.” It was the best she was going to get. He wasn’t making promises he couldn’t keep.
“Really?” Her shoulder sagged as far as the cuff allowed.
“ What was that?” Propping up her chin with his fingers, he waited for the correct response.
“Sir!” Bewildered exasperation rang out in her tone as if she didn’t understand his expectations, but they both knew that was rubbish. The rules of the game they’d established were clear, and she’d had little to complain about until then.
“Better.” His reply was curt. “Now, get into bed.”
He’d tried to be tactful about her need to keep warm, but she’d been blind to his diplomacy. Amy, it seemed, needed his firm hand, and he was happy to oblige her.
Waiting as she complied, he placed her glass with his and slipped out of his jacket. Tossing it onto the covers, he rounded the bed and climbed in beside her.
“This is how you want to talk, sir?” She sounded bemused.
“We’ll both be more comfortable this way.”
It was odd settling between the sheets in his shirt and suit pants, but turning to catch her perplexed expression, he was sure the relaxed situation was the best chance for a calm conversation.
The ferocity of his anger had diminished while he’d been downstairs, and he was ready to talk. Much though he wanted to be honest, he wasn’t sure how far his sincerity could stretch. It was one thing to confirm what she’d already ascertained—that he had been her landlord—but another to reveal his intentions during the intervening years when she’d slid into poverty.
Because it’s none of her business.
His chin rose at the defiant thought, but deep down, he knew insolence wasn’t really the reason he didn’t want to tell her.
I’m afraid. His brows knitted as he pulled the cover up to his middle. What will she think of me if she knows the truth about the years I kept her in my sight, but did nothing to help?
His fearful response was a perturbing revelation. Kyle couldn’t remember feeling genuine fear for a long time. He’d accrued a lot of wealth and had weaponized it, employing it to protect him from just about anything that could hurt him.
Until Amy.
His little girl had broken through his armor. Though she wielded little power and even less money, she’d wormed her way into his affections to the extent that the idea of losing her was soul-destroying. He could continue living in Brock Hall without her, growing his portfolios and keeping his circle tight, but what would be the point?
Without Amy, he had nothing to live for.
“Okay.” She blew out a breath and turned his way as far as the cuff allowed. He might have enjoyed the look of her plight had the tension in his stomach not been making it difficult to think. “What do you want to talk about?”
As if she doesn’t know.
“You want to know about Aspen Way.” His core clenched at the opening line.
“I wanted to know why you hadn’t told me you owned the house.” She shrugged. “It’s not like you did anything illegal, sir.”
“Right.” So, why did he feel so dreadful at the idea of divulging his version of events?
“Graham didn’t tell me much about who owned the house.” She scrunched the covers with the fingers of her left hand. “And I guess I never asked. I knew we were barely getting by, so digging into the details of our debts hardly seemed helpful.” Her focus rose to find his face. “Did something happen between you and him?”
Staring into her incredible eyes, Kyle found himself on the precipice of something huge. He knew that whichever way he chose to play the next few minutes would have ramifications well beyond that day. He either spun her a convincing web of lies he’d need to stand by in the days and months to come or find the courage to tell her the truth—whatever her reaction.
His attention slid along her body to her cuffed wrist. It wasn’t as though Amy was going anywhere. If she chose to angrily erupt again, he could always make good on his threat to gag her and give her a little more time alone to think things through.
But she might be good .
His heart swelled at the idea. She’d done as he asked while he was downstairs, hadn’t she? And despite a couple of quips, she’d been well-behaved since his return.
Perhaps she was ready to hear who he really was and just how interwoven the last few years of their lives had been.
“Nothing bad happened.” Though, he accepted that ‘bad’ was a relative concept.
“But you worked together?” She tugged at her lower lip, a sign that her nerves were also escalating. Unusually, the gesture did little to quell his anxiety.
“He worked for me…” He paused. “Once or twice.”
“Yes.” She searched his face. “You said that, sir. Was he your accountant?”
“He helped me with my taxes.” So far, no lies. He was better at negotiating the truth than he’d given himself credit for.
“Oh.” Her brow rose. “He never mentioned that.”
“No.” Kyle was far from surprised. “He owed me because you were always so far behind on your rent.”
He wished he could reach out and hold her as he raked over the past, but somehow, it didn’t feel right. He was the one baring his soul, the one about to potentially unleash a new storm over her. Could he also be the one to offer comfort?
“He worked for you as payment?” She gasped at the question, as though pieces of the puzzle were starting to fall into place in her head.
“Yes,” he confirmed. “But honestly, there was only so much he could do for me to cover your debt, so…”
He hesitated, still unsure whether to rip the entire scab from the pus-filled truth or whether, even at that juncture, to hold back.
“So?” Her voice wavered as she, no doubt, sensed his rising trepidation.
“So, we reached the conclusion I’d have to evict you.”
There was no pleasure in articulating the decision, especially since they both knew where it had led Amy, though he couldn’t shake the feeling that without his action, she might never have been his. He’d never dwelled on it until then, but perhaps it was the escalating pressure of the arrears that had pushed Graham into an early grave.
“Wait.” Her brows knitted. “You planned to evict us even before Graham’s death?”
“That’s right.” Reaching for her free hand, he fought the urge to keep her at bay. To hell with convention. He loved Amy, and what she was about to hear would likely upset her.
Her gaze fell to his fingers, but she didn’t reject him.
“I went to see him at the house and discussed it all with him. He told me he couldn’t afford any more money, and I told him if he didn’t have anything else to offer, then I’d need you guys to leave.”
“Anything else to offer?” Predictably, she seized on the only clause of his explanation that required further explanation. “What does that mean?”
“Well, like I said, he’d paid me previously with his professional expertise.” If that was what he called it. As far as Kyle was concerned, a few hours fumbling over his tax bill was far from expert proficiency.
“So, why didn’t he continue with that?” Her eyes were large, as though she could sense what was coming.
“My income grew, little girl.” His tone was almost apologetic. “Graham’s skills were no longer sufficient, so I employed others.”
“Of course.” Her eyes closed for a long moment. “He was always just a run-of-the-mill accountant. So, after that, you decided to evict us?” Her stare drilled into him, though he saw no obvious recriminations.
“I went to the house that day to see if there was anything else he could do for me…” His heart sped up as he neared the crux of his shame. “Any valuable possessions he owned that he could pass my way.”
“We had nothing like that.” Her voice was etched with sadness.
“He had you.” His voice was uncharacteristically quiet. “I saw a picture of you in the hallway and commented on it…”
If he wasn’t mistaken, her chest was rising and falling faster than before.
“What do you mean he had me ?”
“I suggested he could share you with me.” His words had slowed, as though saying them carefully would lessen their impact. “As a means to pay what you guys owed.”
“ Share me?” She seemed caught somewhere between disbelief and disgust. “What the fuck, William?”
“Amy.” His tone deepened in an instant. “That’s not how I want you to talk to me.”
“Well, I’m sorry, sir , but you can’t just march into someone’s home and demand to fuck one of the tenants as payment for the rent!”
He didn’t like her incredulous tone, but his lips curled at her description. “It wasn’t quite like that…”
“But you wanted it to be.” She tugged her hand away, her face blanching as she continued. “Didn’t you? That’s why you bandied the concept. You’d have been happy with the arrangement, sir?”
“Of course, I would have been.” He shook his head at her dismay. Yes, he’d anticipated a frosty response, but he couldn’t logically understand her recoiling body language. The fact he’d longed for her, even then, should have been a compliment, not an insult. “You’re beautiful, Amy. Who wouldn’t want you?”
“I’m not a rental payment!” She slid farther away, her gaze scanning the room for any new escape routes.
“No, I never meant that.” Trust his silly little girl to take his endearment and twist it into something nasty. “You mean the world to me, but I didn’t know you at the time. Then, you were just his wife.”
“A means to an end, eh?” Tears brimmed in her eyes as she hissed at me. “The best old Graham Kendal could give you?”
“He turned me down flat.” He assumed that would make her feel better, but watching her agitated breathing, he wasn’t so sure. “Said I needed to leave.”
“Oh, I wonder why?” Her tone was sardonic as she skipped from bed, backing as far away as the cuff permitted. She looked fucking ravishing in the kinky outfit with her tits spilling out of the bodice and her hair all disheveled. At any other moment, he’d have taken her right there over the bed. “Poor Gra… he must have been wrecked with worry about it all.”
“So worried that he didn’t even tell you?”
The way she was talking about the guy, he’d have thought Graham was a saint, but he’d listened to her frustrations about the life good old Graham had provided. It was far too late to canonize him.
“I’m sure he was trying to protect me.” Heaving in a breath, her free hand rose to wipe her eyes. “You don’t know what he was like. He loved me. He was a good—”
“Oh, come on!” Throwing back the covers, he dove from the bed and started toward her. “ Protect you? He couldn’t even keep a roof over your head long-term, and instead of leaving you with a nest egg after he died, he left you up to your ears in debt.”
“You bastard!” She yanked at the cuff holding her right hand again, the heel of her other hand unable to stem the falling fresh tears.
“ You told me this information!” He stopped a foot away from her, unable to believe how ridiculous she was being. He’d expected hurt feelings but not the pathetic display of self-righteousness he was being forced to witness. “You said he left you with nothing but debt.”
“He loved me.” Her brow furrowed. “That’s why he told you no!”
“Yet he didn’t provide for you or your sons.” Surely, she understood what he was saying, even if she was stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the point. “That doesn’t make him a very good husband in my book.”
“Fuck you!” Red-faced, she recoiled. “You can’t judge him. You don’t know anything about it.”
“On the contrary, little girl…”
She was going to be sorry for the performance she was putting on. Swearing at him, shouting, and continuing to refuse to use his title were going to be Mrs. Kendal’s fast pass to spanking city.
“I know everything you’ve told me. I know about your mediocre sex life and how you longed to be free of the monotony and financial hardship.”
It was possible he was taking a few liberties with the summary of their marriage, but he was too emboldened to care. Amy had crossed the line one too many times, and he was going to make her pay.
“I can’t believe you’d use those things against me.” Her body trembled as he stepped closer. “I told you how I felt in confidence.”
“And I told you the truth.” The ‘honesty’ game was getting old. “I offered to take you as payment for your family’s outstanding rent, but Graham refused. I don’t think it was too long after that he passed.”
The look of horror on her face convinced him he should have held the final line back.
“Oh God.” Her knees gave way, hitting the long-pile carpet with a gentle thud. “Oh God, maybe it was that conversation which finished him off?” Appalled eyes met Kyle’s. “It was you. You killed him!”
“For goodness sake.” He’d reached a similar conclusion himself, but her overreaction was Oscar worthy. “You’re upsetting yourself.”
“ You’re upsetting me.” Practically hyperventilating, Amy was doubled over as far as her restraints permitted. “I can’t believe this!”
What he’d told her so far wasn’t even half of the real truth. He hadn’t yet disclosed how he’d watched her life fall to pieces in the years that followed, then meticulously planned their ‘accidental’ meeting once he’d been ready to make his move.
Watching her distress, he concluded she wasn’t ready for that level of honesty. Maybe she never would be.
“Come on…” He intended to embrace her, but her flailing limbs and sneering expression kept him at arm’s length.
“Get away from me!” She was like a hissing banshee, a version of Amy he’d never seen before and, frankly, never wanted to see again.
“You need to stop this, Amy.”
Her flushed face and bloodshot eyes conveyed how awful her performance would be for her health. No doubt her heart was racing, and her blood pressure would be through the roof.
“You’re going to make yourself ill, little girl.” He lowered to one knee, resisting the urge to reach for her, even though every fiber of his being yearned to do so. “Please stop.”
If the fallout of all sincerity was a shitshow like that, then he was glad he’d opted for guarded duplicity most of his life.
“Fuck you!” She heaved in a breath, her dark hair clinging to her wet face. “I don’t have to listen to anything you say anymore… not after the way you’ve behaved, not after the things you’ve done.”
“Amy.” He sighed, not wanting to be the one to reiterate the reasons why she did have to listen to him.
For one, she was confined by his personal cuffs—a set to which only he had the key to release her—and secondly, she was still in his home. The way she behaved, what she said, and whether or not she listened to him absolutely mattered.
“Don’t Amy me!” She’d never acted with such venom before. “And don’t you dare call me your little girl. I’m sorry I ever laid eyes on you, sorry I came here and let you into my life.” She seemed close to hysterical.
“Don’t be foolish.” He couldn’t believe she genuinely felt that way. “If you hadn’t come here, what would have happened to Jonah?” Perhaps it was wrong of him to play the wealth card again—especially in the circumstances—but indignation compelled him to speak.
“Without me, where would he be?” He stared her down, demanding an answer. “He wouldn’t even have made bail without my money.”
The glint in her red, swollen gaze spoke of the unspoken loathing she evidently felt for him at that moment. Her expression jarred, forcing him to rise and take a step back.
“How fucking dare you!” She tried to climb to her feet again, but wobbling, she only made it to one knee before she collapsed back in an awkward heap.
Guilt and concern propelled him forward to help her. “Hey, be careful.”
“I said, stay away from me!” Her free hand rose, presumably in some futile attempt to knock him away, but poised for such a response, he captured her wrist with ease.
“I’m going to stop you from hurting yourself.” He didn’t know exactly what he’d expected when he’d decided to tell the truth, but it wasn’t anything that had transpired in the last few moments. “Because I love you.”
“Love?” She scoffed. “You wouldn’t know love if it slapped you in the face. You only know how to use your money to dominate other people.”
Flinching at her harsh assessment, he dropped her wrist and turned away.
“I’m sorry you feel that way.” He was loathed to admit it, but her accusation had really stung.
“I don’t believe you’re ever truly sorry about anything, sir .” Her stare was withering as she pulled against the cuff. “Your actions have made that abundantly obvious.”
“You obviously need some time to calm down.” That was one way of putting it. “I’ll leave you for a while.”
Backing toward the door, he realized he was frowning. Running away from a problem wasn’t usually his style, but her attack had thrown him for a loop. He wasn’t lying when he expressed his love for her. He’d never known an emotion as consuming before. To look at her then, he’d have thought she was nothing but his captive, a woman he kept bound to the bed for unsavory purposes.
Pressing his temple against the door, his lips twisted wryly. If he’d kept her there as his prisoner, she’d have tangible reasons for her hysteria. As it was, while he could understand her upset, her response was absurdly overblown and all he was doing by remaining there was heightening her frenzied emotion.
“Oh, that’s right!” Her voice had a snide sing-song quality about it. “Keep me cuffed here and disappear. Good call, Mr. Kyle. This is definitely your style.”
His eyes fell closed at her taunting tone. She wanted him to stay, then? At least so they could continue the argument, but he couldn’t see any positives to his presence. Better that she had space to calm down. Maybe she would sleep, and then they could sit down later and have a rational discussion about what happened next.
“It’s for the best, little girl.”
She’d asked him not to use the term anymore, but the endearing sentiment was second nature to him by that point. She was his little girl. There was nothing either of them could do to alter that. Her wild display changed nothing.
He’d love her whatever she said.
“I’m not your fucking little girl!” He didn’t need to open his eyes and turn to feel the waves of hatred rolling from her. “Get that through your…” She paused, the strain in her voice heightening. “Oh my God!”
The resonance of her voice shifted, insisting he spin to see what was wrong, and what he found sent his pulse racing. Sprawled out on the floor, with her one wrist still connected to the cuff at his bedside, was the woman he adored.
“Amy!” He moved toward her reflexively, falling to his knees and reaching for her. “Amy, are you okay?” It was an irrational thing to ask when it was obvious she was unconscious, but he needed her to know that he was there for her—even if she wasn’t awake—just in case she could still hear him.
Grabbing the arm draped by her side, he felt for her pulse, his heat sprinting with intensity until he sensed its rhythmic cadence.
“Thank God.”
She was all right, then. Presumably, the ferocity of her feelings had overwhelmed her until she’d passed out, but he didn’t like the fact his admission had been the cause.
“Oh, little girl.”
Even with her red skin and matted hair, she looked so beautiful.
“How do we come back from this?”
The question hung in the air as he rose and walked to his personal safe. Whatever happened next, he was going to need the key to those cuffs.
Chapter Five
Predicament
Amy
Dark and garish dreams fractured her sleep, darting through her dreams like sinister, snaking lightning. There was no rest in the haze and no opportunity for equilibrium as she paced through the nightmarish landscape, and everywhere she looked, danger lurked.
Tall, creeping trees reached out from all directions, pressing their contorted branches in her direction and trying to trip her with their roots. Stumbling on, a dull sense of certainty filled her. She could only avoid their snatching tendrils for so long. It was only going to be a matter of time before they grasped her, tripped her, and she fell.
She screamed as one encroaching twig wrapped itself around her left ankle, giving way to gravity when it yanked her from her feet. Her cry was lost in the myriad of undergrowth furling to seize her limbs as she landed on the cold, hard earth.
On some level she realized she was still asleep and none of what was playing out around her was real. Yet, on another, she succumbed completely to the terror, panting with fear when the branches came clutching for her neck.
“How much longer can you hang on now, Amy?”
She swore she heard the goading voice from some distant place, but she didn’t know who or where it came from.
“How long before there’s no air left at all?”
Writhing against the grappling wood, she strained to be free, but no matter how hard she fought, the more the branches tightened. It was as though the more she struggled, the tougher her enemy became.
Exasperation merged with her dread when the branch at her throat stiffened. Its intent was clear.
It wanted her dead.
“Please!” she whispered the words with the remaining oxygen she had. “Please stop!”
Panic swelled in her brain, muting all other functions except the need to survive.
She had to fight, but she didn’t know how.
She couldn’t let the unknown evil win.
Opening her eyes, she blinked into the shadows.
Where am I?
For the longest time, she had no answer, her focus switching to the warm relief sweeping her body.
The nightmare’s over.
It had only been a dream.
Thank God.
She pulled in air, grateful for the oxygen rushing to her lungs. She’d never been more thankful to feel its cool path past her nostrils, and for a fleeting moment, that was enough.
It took a while longer for her to acknowledge not where she was—she was clearly stretched out on a bed, and she could feel the mattress supporting her body—but how her body was positioned. Sprawled in a starfish shape, she appeared to be spread-eagled, the reality sending warning alarms to her rational head.
Tugging at both hands, she tried to withdraw and roll into a ball, but to her horror, neither of her wrists cooperated, prohibited, it seemed, by something hard wrapped around her skin.
Metal.
In that one second, the enormity of what had transpired before she’d awoken crashed down over her, spiraling anger and sadness in equal measure.
She remembered him, recalled how he’d helped and how she’d fallen in love with him, and then, how discovering that one file had changed everything.
“Kyle.” She whispered his name, her brows knitting.
He’d wanted to talk, telling her his version of the truth by revealing he’d been prepared to fuck her as payment for her family’s rent. She still couldn’t believe he’d found that premise acceptable, let alone proposed it to Graham. She was normally in favor of sincerity, but as it turned out, she really hadn’t been ready to hear that news.
The fact he was prepared to take someone else’s wife as collateral for a tenancy agreement was horrifying.
What did that say about him—about his scruples—and critically, where did that leave the relationship she’d thought they’d enjoyed?
“Oh God.” She sniffed back the threatening tears, unwilling to cry anymore for him, yet unable to wipe them away.
The room had fallen into shadow, making it difficult for her to see, but a quick tug of her ankles revealed the same problem as her hands—something was holding her down to the bed.
His bed.
She didn’t know it was his bed for sure, but that had been where she was when she’d collapsed, so it seemed logical that was where he’d put her afterward, and the harder she thought about her predicament, the more obvious the solution seemed.
I’m back in his handcuffs.
Kyle had used cuffs to restrain her before, so what were the chances he’d garnered multiple pairs to cuff her to his bed then? Fury resurfaced as that fate settled over her.
Wherever he’d left her, she was spread-eagled, vulnerable, and unable to move.
A tiny mewl escaped her throat as she acknowledged just how entirely at his mercy she was.
“Are you ready to talk now?” His voice floated from somewhere beyond the bed, jolting her from her woeful internal monologue.
“You’re there?” She leaned up as far as her tired neck muscles allowed, but she couldn’t make him out in the half-light.
Why would he be sitting there in virtual darkness?
“Yes, I’m here.” His reply was a sigh. “I’ve been here the whole time, little girl. I wouldn’t leave you.”
Scowling at the way he still insisted on calling her his little girl, she swallowed back the urge to counter the issue again. Butting heads with him on such a trivial matter wouldn’t help her cause. Somehow, she needed to persuade him to release her.
“Why am I bound, s—” She hesitated, tripping over the word she knew he wanted to hear. Would she send the wrong message if she deferred to him again, or was it the only sensible way to proceed? “Sir?”
There, I’ve said it.
Squeezing her eyes closed, she tried to ignore the thrum of repugnance simmering in her chest. She might not want to call him sir, but she’d do whatever she had to do to get the hell out of there.
“I had to keep you safe.”
He sounded so matter-of-fact, as if handcuffing women to his bed was a normal venture. A dark chill raced along her back as she contemplated the fact that maybe, for him, it was.
What did she know about him, after all?
Aside from the persona he’d put on for her benefit, she knew practically nothing about his past, and the precious little she had found out had unraveled into her current dilemma.
“Thank you.” She couldn’t believe she was actually offering thanks to the bastard. “But I can’t move.”
“ That’s the point, Amy.” His voice grew louder, drawing her attention to the side of the bedroom suite where his couch was.
That’s where he is.
She couldn’t decide if she was relieved or perturbed by the information.
“But I need to pee, sir.” She cringed at the admission, wishing it wasn’t true, but after hours holed up in his room, the inevitable effects of hydration had taken hold.
“Right now?”
His voice was weary, reminding her of a parent who’d been nagged relentlessly by a child. It was hardly a fair comparison when all she’d done was pass out from trauma and woken up cuffed to his bed.
“Yes.” Why would she make something like that up? If she needed to go, then she needed to go. “Please.”
“Just as well, I’ve thought of everything then.” Pale light flicked on from the other side of the room, and blinking past its glow, she saw him stretched out on the sofa.
“Sir?”
It felt more natural to refer to him that way that time, but she wasn’t sure why. Nothing had changed. He was still an asshole who’d weaponized the truth and bound her to the bed.
“Wait.” He rose, straightening his lapels, and she noticed he was wearing his suit jacket again. “I’m coming.”
Her throat dried as he neared, his towering figure looming over in a matter of a few long strides.
“How are you feeling?” His expression looked serious.
Like crap. The answer danced in her head, but she held it back. “I’ve been better.”
“Yeah, me too, little girl.” His tone was equally somber, reminiscent of the man who’d first hired her and not the lover who’d flirted, teased, and pleasured her. “But you were out cold, so I wanted to check you didn’t hit your head or anything. Does anything hurt?”
Only my ego.
She still couldn’t believe she’d been foolish enough to believe his shit when all along she’d been little but a woman Kyle was prepared to barter tenancy for, but yet again, she squashed down the retort.
“I have a stomachache,” she admitted. “But that’s probably because I need to use the restroom.”
“Right.” One eyebrow rose as though he was less convinced of the answer. “I’m worried about you, Amy.” His brow furrowed, one of his hands trailing along her leg.
She froze, holding her breath. The caress that had once been so welcomed seemed suddenly insidious.
“I’m pretty worried, too, sir.” Her tone was raspy, but that time it wasn’t arousal inspiring the change. “I just woke up cuffed to your bed.”
She glanced down at her ankles, the light confirming her suspicion. All four of her limbs were secured to the bedstead, the sight reinforcing her worst fears. Cuffed at all four limbs, she had absolutely no way of getting away from him.
“You were in a real state.” He sounded wistful. “Upset and overwrought. I didn’t know how to help you.”
She inhaled, recalling the way she’d demanded he leave her alone. He hadn’t listened to anything she’d said then, so what made her think he’d listen now?
“So, you cuffed me?” She tried not to sound skeptical about his intentions, but the niggling doubt remained. Kyle’s solution was not normal. If she was upset, surely he’d console rather than capture?
“Yes.” His lips tugged, the gesture amplifying the alarm resounding in her body. “I love you, little girl. I need to know you’re okay.”
“I’m okay.” The urgency in her bladder was becoming difficult to ignore. “But I really do need to pee.”
“Understood.” Reaching into his inside pocket, he produced a small silver key. “But I have one question first.”
He paused, glancing her way.
A question. She tensed. Perfect.
There she was, entirely under his control, and he was desperate for a question-and-answer session.
“Go on.” She clenched the muscles between her legs, praying she could hold on.
“I need to know if you can be my good girl again.” He waved the key in the air, taunting her with the idea of her liberty.
“I can be good.” She eyed the key enviously, willing it into the locks to free her.
“Can you?”
“Yes.” It seemed as though he was toying with her, intentionally taking his time while he knew she was desperate, but then she already knew that much about him. Kyle liked to be in charge, and until that day, she’d been happy to let him lead, but his bondage had shifted from sexy silk to complete control without so much as a discussion. “You know I can, sir.”
He glowered at her—an expression she would have once considered so alluring, but staring into his dark eyes then, she wasn’t so sure. What kind of man tormented another person for fun? And not in a frivolous or flirty way, but in a way that reinforced his own dominance while she was left dangling at the end of his rope.
Or cuffs.
She sighed.
“I’m not sure what I know anymore.” His hand lowered to her ankle, grazing the key over the metal bracelet. “I thought we understood each other, but I’d never seen that vicious side of you before.”
Me, vicious? She wanted to laugh at the way he was twisting the truth.
“It’s fair to say I was a little shocked and disappointed at what you told me, sir.”
That was the understatement of the century. It had been bad enough knowing he’d been her landlord and not told her, but hearing how he’d been prepared to exploit their marriage was sickening. She wasn’t sure how she could ever trust him the same way again.
“Fair enough.” He hovered the key over the lock. “But why does your disappointment always result in you screaming profanity at me?”
Unsure she recognized that version of herself, her brows knitted.
“You were the same in my study,” he went on. “When you first found the files. You don’t seem able to sit down and talk things through calmly, little girl.”
Is that true? The question echoed in her head. Is that who I am?
“It’s been one hell of a day.” She wasn’t making excuses for her behavior, but as far as she remembered, she’d never reacted that way before finding the tenancy files. But then, she hadn’t unveiled his secret past until then. “Perhaps I’m not feeling myself?”
“And that’s what worries me.” He attempted a half smile. “If I let you go now, how do I know what you’ll do?”
Distrust was an interesting response from the man who’d kept so much to himself. Shouldn’t she be the one expressing wariness?
“You’ll have to take my word for it, sir.” What else could she suggest? If he delayed much longer, she wouldn’t be responsible for the repercussions.
“Maybe.” His brow rose. “Or, perhaps I can contain you for a little while longer… until I’m surer.”
A ball of anxiety knotted in her tummy, exacerbating the ache there. “Contain me?”
“Yes.” His tone was even, neither righteous nor apologetic.
“Like the cuffs?” The fog in her head had started to clear, but in its place was a new thick apprehension that seemed determined to flood her senses with doubt.
What the hell was he trying to say?
“Yes, like the cuffs. I know I can’t keep you cuffed all the time. But when you’re away from the bed, I have another idea.” He gestured to the ankle he was hovering over, and to her horror, she noticed a thin line of what looked like rope secured around it. In the frenzy of rousing and discovering the cuffs, she hadn’t even noticed the additional restraint.
“What’s th-that?”
“My insurance policy.” He sounded so pleased with himself. “You have ropes on both ankles, securing you to the bed.”
What?
Her mind was in free fall. Not only had he cuffed her, but he had her tied to the bed with ropes? When had the generous employer she’d fallen in love with become such a predator?
“Why?” Wide-eyed, she gawped at him. “Why do this, sir?”
There was nothing enticing about his authority anymore. Any hope of finding a light at the end of the impossibly dark tunnel of the past few hours seemed all but out of the question. Kyle’s world—the world Amy was restrained into—was growing blacker all the time.
“You know why.” There wasn’t a single flicker of remorse in his face. “I need to know where you are and guarantee you won’t run.”
His stare pierced her as though she was guilty of a crime. Her, the woman bound to his bed, whose only sin was having discovered an uncomfortable truth he’d tried to hide.
“But what does that mean?” The pain in her belly heightened as he forced her to wait. “Am I your p-prisoner?” She’d considered her captivity before, but saying the ‘p’ word out loud, the idea sounded absurd.
“I wouldn’t put it that way.” Sliding the key into the lock, he released the first cuff and drew the metal from her limb.
Once again, she considered kicking him with her freed limb, but without the key, she’d have no way of making a break for it. All she’d achieve was only having three cuffed limbs and one extremely furious Kyle.
“So, how would you put it?” Her voice was tentative as he moved to her right ankle, his gaze flicking to her face as his stony reply resounded.
“I’d say it’s in your interests to make me happy.”