Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
NATASHA
L achlan spent precisely twenty minutes outlining his plan, which would indeed have me fawning at his feet. I didn’t like that part, but I really liked the idea of making Ronan so desperate to get something that he got careless.
He would see a willing slave in excellent health. A well-dressed woman, who wanted nothing more than to stay at her Master’s side. He would also see a Master who literally changed a slave’s body to meet his criteria.
Lachlan’s plan would totally work and would alleviate all of the problems we’d had with him during training. He’d be able to turn his aversion to leashing me or allowing other people to touch me into a Master’s preference.
Well, damn. Look at me, admiring someone else’s Machiavellian idea.
“Do you think you can do it?” Lachlan asked as he draped a cashmere blanket over me.
“Yeah.” I plumped the pillow under my head and tugged the blanket to my chin. “Piece of cake that I’ll never get to eat.”
He laid down behind me, and… Fuck my life, spooned me like we were an actual couple. “Can I tell you a secret?” he asked.
“Sure.”
“I’ve practiced, and can now make stuffed French toast, sausage, and fruit compote without setting any fires. And for supper, you’ll have lemon cannelloni.”
“God, I miss pasta.” I laughed softly. “Is that still in your freezer? I thought I gave the last of it to Teresa for taking care of Dante and Angel while we dealt with my father’s guards.”
“I found some hidden under your black bean enchiladas, then I learned to make it myself, including the lemon-infused pasta.” He settled himself closer and kissed my shoulder. “Saoirse says it’s almost as good as yours.”
“Impressive.” I turned over to face him and made a show of looking for hidden cameras. “Who are you, and what did you do with Lachlan O’Donnell?”
“He’s been learning to cook.” Lachlan cupped my cheek, his blue eyes softening as he met my gaze. “And learning to give a diabetic cat insulin shots, cleaning up messes left by an incontinent poodle, and?—”
“I’m sorry,” I burst out. “I shouldn’t have forced you to take care of those animals like I did. It was cruel and spiteful.”
“Shh.” He silenced me with a soft brush of his lips against mine. “I didn’t have to say yes. I took them because I thought it might make you think better of me, then figured out I actually enjoy it. Especially Marmite. He’s a treat.”
Gently, he encouraged me to turn over and wrapped his arm around me, pressing my back against his muscular chest. Some little devil on my shoulder made me rub my still-sore butt against his groin, making him chuckle.
“Behave yourself, slave. As enticing as it sounds to slide my cock into your wet pussy, you need a nap.”
“And naturally, you get along with Marmite,” I muttered. “Both of you are evil.”
“Evil?” He reached over me to dim the bedside lamp. “He’s a sweet little guy, always chasing after me for treats or grooming.”
“He spent almost a year alone in a paddock when his owner died, and no one would take him because he’s vicious,” I replied after yawning widely.
“I had to have Teresa sedate him before I could groom him. Even then, he bit me, and when he chased me, it certainly wasn’t for treats.
Don’t get me started on what he did when we had to take care of his teeth and hooves. ”
“So, basically, you did all the hard work on his rehab before I got him. I particularly liked the ribbons you braided into his mane, and the cute little wings on his shoulders you made when you did his body clip.”
“Why are you even still talking?”
He kissed the back of my head and chuckled. “Maybe he was missing his owner and lashed out at the one person he knew would be kind, no matter what he did.”
“Stop trying to make me feel better.” I yawned again, then tucked my face under the blanket. “And if you’re not going to fuck me, shut up and let me sleep.”
“Oh, little slave…” He reached under my shirt and pinched my nipple until I squeaked. “Fucking is for animals. You’re not getting my cock until you beg me to make love to you.”
“Don’t hold your breath.” I pressed my thumb against a pressure point in his wrist, forcing him to let go of my breast. “Or, you know, do hold your breath. It will save me the trouble of killing you later.”
When he laughed, I jabbed my elbow into his ribs but couldn’t help thinking about how he managed to change the narrative on me. Instead of sending him a mean-ass pony to torment him, he’d turned it around to make me sound like I possessed benevolence and altruism.
Ugh.
I mean really. How very dare he?
“Sweetheart, as several people have mentioned, if you truly wanted to kill me, I’d already be dead.”
“Lachlan?” I asked, pouring every drop of saccharine sweetness I could muster into his name.
“Yes, love?”
“Jump off a bridge.”
* * *
LACHLAN
Natasha relaxed and her breathing slowed as she drifted off.
Although I wanted to join her, I stayed awake to watch her sleep.
She usually slept deeply enough to not remember them, but she was plagued with nightmares.
I was sure at least some of them came from her father, but didn’t delude myself into thinking she didn’t dream about the time she’d spent in my kennel.
For all I knew, she dreamed about Ronan and all the people she hadn’t been able to save.
In order to soothe her through them, I didn’t sleep until I absolutely had to. Maybe someone who bought a person as a punching bag slash sex toy wouldn’t give a moment’s thought to their slave’s distress, but that wasn’t me—not anymore.
Yes, I’d hated her at first. I hated what she represented, and her tie to the person who murdered my brother. But all of that had changed.
And yes, I was desperate to have her go to her knees willingly for me, but I wouldn’t force it, and I no longer wanted her to be a permanent twenty-four seven slave.
Well, not unless she chose it for herself.
I swallowed a dry laugh, knowing she wouldn’t.
After making sure Natasha was deeply asleep, I eased myself from the bed, grabbed my phone, and after sliding the door shut behind me, returned to my seat.
Once I was seated, I made a few arrangements I hoped Natasha would enjoy, then pulled up Ella’s contact and tapped it. To my surprise, she answered on the first ring, as if she’d been waiting for my call.
“I assume you’re halfway to Ireland by now,” she murmured. “Where’s Natasha?”
“We’re less than two hours out. Natasha is sleeping,” I replied, keeping my voice down. “I need a favor.”
“Another one?” Giggling softly, she added, “Your second is threatening to steal my chef and take her to California, and your wife traumatized my general. I also sent your sister to a safe house in Zurich.”
“Zurich? Why?”
“I was going to send her home, but decided she’d be a target if things don’t go as planned with Ronan.”
“You have my deepest appreciation, Ella. Thank you.”
“De nada. So, what else can I do for you?”
“The favor is a small one I think you’ll be happy to do.”
“Okay. Let’s hear it.”
“I want you to find Cherise Ashland. If she’s already dead, try to find her body so Natasha can give her a proper burial. If she’s alive, kill her owner and get her out.”
Ella coughed, then cleared her throat. “Well, there might be a teensy problem with that.”
“Which part?”
“Um…the killing her owner part.”
“Does that mean you’ve already found her?”
“She’s in Finland.”
“And?” I kept myself firmly in my seat, even though I wanted to wake Natasha to tell her the news. “What’s the problem with killing her owner?”
“They’re sort of married. She refused to leave him.”
“What?” I forced myself to keep my voice lowered. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“I know, right? Anyway, yeah. According to multiple members of the team I sent, Cherise literally climbed the dude like a monkey to keep them from shooting him, and he kept turning to put himself between them and her like they were actually a couple instead of Master and slave. Fucking disturbing, if you ask me.”
“Was she drugged or under duress?”
“That’s the weirdest part. He asked if they were from Ronan.
When they told him I sent them, he said he didn’t care if they killed him as long as I personally guaranteed Cherise’s safety.
” She took an audible breath, then added, “So, yeah, no. I can’t authorize a hit on her Master, but I have their address if you want to take Natasha to visit after you deal with Ronan.
Pretty sure you need to see that fuckery for yourself. ”
My phone buzzed with an incoming text, and I glanced at the mapped address in suburban Helsinki.
“Unbelievable. That’s just?—”
“Fucked up, right? Anyway, I sent a counselor in with the team, and she said Cherise’s Master encouraged her to talk to the counselor privately. Then he just… God, Lachlan, I can’t even make this shit up.”
“You can’t make what up?”
“I went personally with a different counselor. They didn’t know I was coming, and I shit you not, but Cherise sat on a stool and bossed her Master around while he cooked a fucking standing rib roast with homemade bread, and a roast vegetable medley of carrots and parsnips, all the while chatting about how great her life was.
When we sat down to eat, her Master plopped her on his lap and fed her from his own plate, then regaled us with tales of her getting a PhD in chemistry and how he was trying to talk her into a second one for physics. ”
Like mother, like daughter. I couldn’t help remembering Natasha’s wish to study biochemistry.
“Was she under the influence? Did you see any bruises?”
“No to the bruises, and she offered to strip naked to prove it, which was weird as fuck. Neither of them had any, but she served a very nice Burgundy with the meal.” She sighed heavily, then laughed. “Fuck me, but I still don’t believe it, and I saw it for myself. That leads me to something else.”
“What now?”
“Cherise is pregnant, and she gleefully showed me I don’t even know how many sonogram photos while her Master rubbed her feet.”
“Holy shit.”
“Right? He looked at her like she farted rainbows.”
I understood Ella’s confusion, as it matched mine. To know Natasha’s mother had been safe and presumably happy all these years…
“Why haven’t they reached out to Natasha?”
“This is the part that actually does sound plausible,” Ella replied.
“After he bought Cherise, he changed their names and went into hiding with her to keep Steve and Ronan from finding them. They knew Steve was dead, but Cherise’s Master didn’t want to risk drawing Ronan’s attention to her or Natasha, especially not with Cherise pregnant. The baby is due in six weeks.”
When I didn’t immediately reply, she added, “Fuck, I can’t even call him her Master. He dotes on her like a damned fool. Kind of like you do with Natasha, if you want my opinion.”
Even though she was right, I said, “I didn’t ask for it.”
“Too bad. Anyway, Cherise loves her daughter. After all these years, she still tries to keep Natasha safe, and I…” She sniffled, then I heard her blow her nose.
“Fucking emotional shit making my eyeballs leak like I’m a goddamned faucet.
Consider your favor granted and let us never speak of this again. ”