Covet Me Read online

  I paused for a moment, resisting the urge to turn and look for Belle. Instead of giving in, I reached forward and took the cane from a hook on the wall. It felt strange to have the reedy instrument in my palm. I hadn’t used one in years and then it had been playful. Georgia didn’t want a game and Belle needed to be scared.

  It sliced through the air and cracked across Georgia’s ass cheeks, immediately leaving an angry red streak on her pale skin. She barely reacted, maintaining her blasphemous position. She lasted three more stripes before her knees buckled and she had to grip the leather armrest.

  “Enough?” I asked in a harsh voice. A kind Dom would soothe her injuries with a gentle touch, but I wasn’t a good Dom and Georgia was far more depraved than a typical sub.

  She shook her head.

  I struck her three more times before I saw tears leak from the corner of her eyes. Dropping the cane, I tugged her skirt back into place and helped her stand. Before I could leave her, Georgia threw her arms around me and kissed my cheek, whispering in my ear. “Thank you for not holding back.”

  I peeled her back, revulsion and concern warring inside me. In some ways, she was my only friend. The only person who truly knew who I was and what I was capable of. It made me feel responsible for her well-being. But Georgia didn’t want to be helped. Whatever balance her life needed, I would never give it to her.

  Turning away from the corner and wishing I could leave this part of my past there, I found myself staring into Belle’s tear-filled eyes.

  I’d expected her to come. I’d known she would and that she would witness this. But knowing hadn’t prepared me for the look on her face like she didn’t know who I was.

  She was the one person I wanted to know me, and I had to end things like this.

  I walked toward her, picking up my shirt on the way. This needed to be done publicly. It was the only way to be certain Hammond would hear of it. But doing that meant forcing her to endure the humiliation of my actions.

  “You came,” I said as I slipped my shirt back on and began to button it.

  “I thought you were crazy,” she whispered, “asking me to come here. But now I see that isn’t the case at all. You’re only cruel.”

  She pivoted away from me, and I caught her arm.

  Get it together, Price. Stopping her wasn’t part of the plan.

  “I needed to blow off some steam,” I lied. “I didn’t think you’d be up for it.”

  “Is that what you want?” she asked in horror. “What happened to it being about pleasure?”

  “It can’t always be about that.” I shrugged, unable to meet her eyes.

  To my surprise, she kicked off her heels and reached for the zipper on her dress. “Is this what you need, Smith? You want me to get naked, so you can beat me and prove what a big man you are?”

  I smacked her hand away. That was not how I wanted this to play out. Regardless of what she thought, she belonged to me and I wasn’t going to share her with anyone. I certainly wasn’t going to push tonight any further. There was no need. I sensed her pain, feeling it as acutely as if I had been the one under the cane. The scene had done the trick.

  But Belle wasn’t the type of woman to run away crying. She would punish me first.

  “C’mon,” she mocked. “Take out your stick and let’s go.”

  “I don’t want this with you.”

  That stopped her in her tracks. Her hand fell limply to her side, her lip beginning to quiver. “What do you want with me?”

  “Nothing.” It hurt worse because it was the truth and a lie. I wanted her to leave. I wanted her to run. Just as much as I wanted to give all of myself to her.

  A single tear escaped down her cheek, and she wiped it angrily away. “That can be arranged.”

  But she didn’t make a move to leave.

  I wanted to ask her if she was okay. I wanted to walk her to her car. I wanted to take her home and make love to her until she forgot what she had seen. Instead I forced a glowering look on my face. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

  “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

  Snatching her shoes from the floor, she dashed back toward the velvet-lined corridor that led outside. My eyes followed her progress, my body fighting me to go after her. Rather, I walked slowly back to the private office, feeling Ariel’s shocked eyes on me.

  I didn’t watch as she left the club, even though Georgia had turned Velvet’s security cameras on her. Letting her go had been difficult, but seeing her actually do it might prove impossible.

  “It was the right choice.” Georgia’s sharp voice interrupted my thoughts.

  “But is it one I can live with?” I said softly. My animosity toward her had fled the club along with Belle. “Don’t answer that.”

  “Hammond suspects you two are involved. Your penchant for disappearing hasn’t gone unnoticed. Neither will tonight’s events. It’s the best move you can make.”

  I rounded on her, my hands clenching into fists. “This isn’t a game.”

  “It is a game,” she shot back, “to Hammond at least. You can’t get away with not playing. Not if you want to take her off the board.”

  She was right, and I hated it. I’d hoped we could ride out the storm longer, so Belle knew exactly where she stood. But warning her of what to expect would only have undermined the effectiveness of my strategy.

  “What are you going to do now?”

  “I need to call our partners.” I forced myself to focus on the next rational move.

  “There’s no need to involve them.” Georgia perched on her desk and crossed her arms over her voluptuous chest.

  “Who the hell do you think forced this course of action?” I had my mobile out before she could respond.

  Georgia huffed and slid off the desk. “Don’t put too much stock in their ability to protect her.”

  “What choice do I have?” I asked gruffly as she walked out of the room.

  “Smith.” The voice on the other end sounded surprised to hear from me.

  “Let’s cut the bullshit,” I said, skipping through the obligatory pleasantries. He didn’t need me kissing his ass.

  “I didn’t expect to hear from you directly.”

  I bet he didn’t. “Look, it’s done. I cut her loose.”

  “You’ve made a wise choice.”

  “I don’t give a damn what you think of my choice. She’s still of interest to Hammond. There’s no one I can trust to keep tabs on her.”

  “And you want me to?” he guessed.

  “No one would second-guess your motivations,” I reminded him.

  “It’s done. Is there anything else?”

  “Yes, consider speaking with me before you pull something like this again.” I was losing my cool now. What did it matter if another ally wanted me dead when I was already on someone else’s hit list?

  “You work for me.” The friendly tone evaporated from his voice.

  “I don’t work for anyone.” I hung up before he could respond. I’d gotten what I needed from him, and even if I found his tactics questionable, I trusted his word. That wasn’t something that was easy for me, but I didn’t have a choice. Not where Belle was concerned. He’d watch out for her and his resources were unparalleled. He was the best chance I stood at keeping her from Hammond’s grasp.

  “You know how to make friends,” Georgia remarked, lowering herself carefully into a chair.

  “Do you want some water or something?” I asked out of obligation. I didn’t have to imagine the condition she was already in.

  “Let’s not pretend that was anything more than a calculated move,” she said with a snort. “You did what you had to do.”

  I had, and I was the one who had to live with it.

  Life became an endless cycle. Go to work, obsess over launch, go home, obsess over launch, sleep. Rinse. Lather. Repeat. After a week I’d managed to get myself into a comfortable, mind-numbing rhythm that allotted almost no time to think about Smith. Almost.


  Anger was swiftly shifting to sadness. Because despite the jam-packed schedule I’d been keeping, I was still aware of the fact that he hadn’t called. Not to explain himself. Not to apologize. The lack of communication only confirmed my biggest fear: I meant nothing to him. I had only been another toy in his collection. Ignoring the piles of to-do lists cluttering my desk, I shot off an email to my brother, the only other lawyer I knew, to discuss my options. My fledgling business was tangled up with a man that I never wanted to see again.

  Lola sashayed into the office a minute later with an oversized white leather tote hooked in the crook of her elbow and her arms brimming over with a stack of fashion magazines. She dropped it all onto one of the empty shelves littering the room. Stepping back, she surveyed the space, sizing it up after being absent for most of the week attending her last semester of classes. As usual she looked like she’d stepped from one of the pages of those fashion magazines, outfitted in a chic¸ loose tan sweater with a Burberry scarf knotted loosely at her neck. She’d paired skinny jeans with leather riding boots to complete the classic look that gave her the air of a woman much more sophisticated and worldly than your average twenty-two-year-old.

  My mobile rang and I snatched it up. When I saw it wasn’t Smith, I told myself that my lightning fast answering reflex had nothing to do with hope. I held no hope that there were any emotional ties binding me to him, which was why I should have been glad to see my brother’s name on the screen.

  Lola raised her eyebrows, no doubt responding to my frantic movements, and I smiled, holding up a finger to give me a moment to take the call.

  “I just read your email,” John said as soon as I answered. I pictured him in his leather desk chair facing his office window, which afforded a stunning view from one of the top floors of the Gherkin. “Can you pop by the office this afternoon for a few minutes?”

  “Yes,” I responded automatically. I wanted this dealt with as soon as possible. “How’s two?”

  “Perfect. I’ll let security know to send you straight up.”

  We hung up without saying goodbye. As far as I could tell, pleasantries and affectionate farewells were reserved for siblings who had actually grown up in the same household.

  Setting a reminder on my phone, I turned my attention back to sorting through the various contacts I needed to reach out to. Bless still had no inventory and procuring clothing was going to be as vital as securing clients. When I began scribbling a list down from the computer screen, Lola cleared her throat softly.

  “So do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” she asked, dropping onto a stool by my makeshift desk.

  I glanced up, fingers freezing over the keyboard, and blinked. Did I? I’d managed to avoid Edward’s check-in calls for the better part of the weekend, and Clara was lost in baby land, which meant I hadn’t actually talked about the break-up with anyone. But confessing the situation would mean sharing the backstory and that was complicated.

  “I’m behind,” I answered instead. That was true, at least. I was just busy. So busy I hadn’t even said hello to her.

  “You’re a machine, and not in a good way. It’s like working with robot Belle around here.” Lola folded her arms over her chest, shaking her sleek dark hair. “Something is up.”

  “Yeah, we’re supposed to be launching this company in two months,” I snapped, “and I don’t have inventory or a website or a marketing plan.”

  “But you have a partner,” Lola reminded me. “Stop trying to do it all yourself and let me tackle the website and marketing.”

  I relaxed back in my seat and nodded. She had a point. “I had a boyfriend. Now I don’t.”

  It was all she really needed to know. All any woman ever needed to know, and judging by the way her pink lips pressed into a grim line, she didn’t need to hear more. “I get it, but don’t switch into survival mode. So the cad is out of the picture, you still have a lot of people who have your back, and I’m one of them. You aren’t doing this all by yourself.”

  “Wow, for a minute, I could have sworn Clara was here,” I teased.

  Lola straightened up and smirked, tossing her hair back over a slender shoulder. “We are sisters, even if she has much better taste in men.”

  “It sounds as if I’m not the only one with man trouble,” I noted. It wasn’t surprising exactly. There were too many Philips in the world and not enough Alexanders.

  “Not trouble exactly. I’m just not interested. I’m either supposed to be impressed by the size of their portfolio or the size of their ego. Apparently they didn’t get the memo that size only matters when it comes to one thing.”

  “And then there’s the fact that Clara married the King of England,” I added.

  “It does put life into rather harsh perspective,” Lola agreed with a laugh. “Mother doesn’t understand why I haven’t snagged my own world leader. Of course, she doesn’t know that the last time I was forward with a man, he came out of the closet five minutes later. Obviously I need to focus on my career.”

  “You did Edward a favor,” I told her, smiling at the memory. “But I’m with you. Who needs a man to take over the world?”

  “That, I’ll drink to.” She picked up an empty Starbucks cup and tossed it into the rubbish bin.

  “Sadly, we haven’t stocked the office bar yet,” I said dryly.

  “An oversight which will be remedied shortly. For now, I’m taking you to lunch.” She held up a hand when I opened my mouth to protest. “A business lunch. Divide and conquer. That’s how we’re going to do this.”

  I grabbed my bag and followed her out the door, locking it behind us. She was right. I couldn’t do this alone, and if I was going to pay Smith’s investment back and finally be free, a battle strategy was definitely in order.

  A few hours later, I made my way across town, my mind spinning with all of Lola’s ideas. I was so preoccupied that I nearly walked past the security checkpoint at the entrance of my brother’s building.

  “Miss?” A uniformed guard stopped me and gestured toward my purse.

  “Oops.” I unzipped it and held it out for his inspection.

  He peeked in with a flashlight. “Are you carrying a mobile phone? We need to check that.”

  “Um, probably.” I rifled around and came up empty. “I must have left it at the office.”

  “Do you have an appointment?” he asked dubiously.

  He thinks you’re a flake. What professional showed up for a meeting without a mobile? I seriously needed to get my act together if I was going to evolve into a business mogul. I dug out my wallet and showed him my ID. “I do. Annabelle Stuart. I’m meeting with John Stuart.”

  “Head on up,” he said after checking his list, adding, “you do know your way?”

  “I’ll be fine,” I reassured him, taking off for the lift. Due to the mortifying security check, it was nearly two and I didn’t have a mobile to let my brother know that I’d be late. It was exactly two when I reached his floor and tore up to the reception desk.

  “I’m here for John Stuart,” I told the girl behind the desk in a breathless voice.

  “Mr. Stuart is expecting you.” She gestured to the left. John’s law firm was the exact opposite of Smith’s small private practice. Nearly a dozen lawyers practiced here, filling the roles of solicitors and barristers alike.

  “Belle.” He rose politely as I entered, bowing slightly and tugging at the cuffs of his Harris Tweed jacket. Everything from his thinning hair to his clothing choices and odd adherence to decorum made him appear much older than thirty-two.

  I never knew what to do around him. Shake his hand. Curtsy. In all fairness, he’d never been anything but unfailingly kind to me, despite the awkward favoritism our father had shown me. No doubt owing to my mother’s interference.

  “How are you?” he asked, once again proving himself the essence of civilized formality.

  “Busy,” I admitted, not sure if I could handle a round of small talk. “You?”

  “I’
ve also been quite busy.”

  We sat for a moment in awkward silence before he glanced at his computer screen. “I was quite surprised to hear you were starting a business. It doesn’t seem like something your mother would approve of.”

  “She doesn’t,” I said flatly. I didn’t miss the way his eyes tightened as he spoke of her. My mother had always made her disapproval of my choices known in private. She’d been publicly vocal about her disapproval of John’s existence. Wicked stepmother indeed.

  “I can empathize with the position you find yourself in then.” His tone had softened. We both understood how it felt to be unwanted. Although, in comparison, he’d had it much worse. After his mother had died, my father had remarried. His new wife, my loving mother, had immediately shipped John off to boarding school, and he had stayed there until university. “It should make Christmas quite interesting.”

  “I propose we let Ann enjoy her estate by herself this Christmas,” I suggested. It was the first year I’d be single, and while Philip had never been much emotional support, he’d been a distraction at least. I had no interest in spending the day being analyzed and found wanting.

  “It is your estate,” John reminded me in a clipped tone. “Perhaps you could un-invite her.”

  “Do you recall the end of Jane Eyre? I wouldn’t put it past her to try to roast us both alive.” The joke lightened the mood a bit but didn’t fully erase the implication of his words. John had inherited my father’s title as his only son, a right granted to him by British law, but I’d wound up inheriting the family estate. I had no doubt my mother had forced our father to disregard John in all other ways as well.

  “So is your mother this unwanted investor?” John asked.

  “Thankfully no.” I shook my head, actually laughing at the thought. If my mother had any money, she wouldn’t give it to me. “But unfortunately I have, or rather had, a personal relationship with the current investor.”

  “And now you don’t,” John guessed, but he didn’t press for details. It was probably obvious from the red flushing across my cheeks what kind of relationship it had been. “This isn’t normally my area of expertise. I don’t work directly with clients any more since I became one of the firm’s barristers.”