Mastered (The Enforcers #1) (27 page)

Would any woman do for him? Did Evangeline's face blur among the many who'd come before her? Did she stand out? She supposed she was lucky that he at least remembered her name and hadn't called her by another woman's name. She'd likely stab him with a kitchen knife if that ever happened.

Silas helped her from the exam table and then herded her from the clinic and into the elevator that would take them to the top floor. He inserted his own key card, further proof that Drake's men were obviously trusted—and had full access to even his personal domains.

When they walked into the apartment, she saw that the groceries had been placed on the counter and when she would have hurried over to sort through them, Silas blocked her and instead pushed her into the living room and then promptly sat her on the couch, reaching for a pillow to prop beneath her leg.

“You stay put,” Silas ordered. “I know for a fact Drake said he would be late arriving, and I also know he'll call to let you know when he's on his way home. Therefore, until the time you receive that call, you are to relax and not further aggravate your injury. Drake will understand if dinner is a little late, given the circumstances.”

Evangeline bit her lip, refusing to remind Silas that Drake had no clue about her injury. Unless she'd already been ratted out by one of his men. A distinct possibility.

But when Drake did finally call, she realized that no, he didn't know, and furthermore, he was still not happy about this morning's transgression.

The phone rang, rousing Evangeline from the couch. Damn it! How could she have fallen asleep? She'd planned that as soon as Silas made his departure, she was going to get a start on dinner, regardless of his assertion that she was to rest until Drake called.

She scrambled for the phone, at least glad Silas had put it within reach. She nearly groaned when she swung her legs over the end of the couch so she could get up and head for the kitchen as she talked to Drake.

“Hello?” she asked breathlessly.

“I'll be home in twenty minutes,” he said shortly.

“O-okay,” she said, gripping the phone tighter.

Even as she talked, she was digging into the bags and searching for the right skillets and warming the grill on the professional-grade stove.

“Dinner will hold for a few minutes, I take it,” he said.

“Yes, of course,” she said hastily. “I can have it ready whenever you're ready to eat.”

“Good. Then what I want you to do is go into the living room and undress. When I arrive I want you standing at the end of the couch, your belly leaned against the arm, legs slightly apart. And then when I tell
you, you are to lean forward and put your hands down on the couch so that you are bent over the arm.”

She hesitated, a puzzled look creasing her forehead. “Okay,” she said quietly.

“Your punishment, Angel,” he said, evidently picking up on her confusion. “Don't think I've forgotten about this morning.”

She nearly dropped the phone but managed to get a grip before it smashed onto the floor.

“Be sure you're ready and that you've heeded my every instruction or I won't be pleased,” he said in a silky voice.

“I won't disappoint you, Drake,” she said in a low tone.

He hesitated this time and then he said, “I know, Angel. That I know.”

And then he hung up, leaving her to stare at the phone.

She closed her eyes, refusing to focus on the fact that he was going to punish her. She had to get a start on dinner so he wouldn't think she hadn't already done so. This whole day had been nothing but an epic clusterfuck.

She thought briefly about heeding Silas's advice and telling Drake of all that had occurred the minute Drake came through the door, but then she frowned. What a coward she was being. At the very first opportunity she was trying to get out of trouble, when it was her own damn fault.

No, she'd get dinner well on its way to being prepared, and then she'd go into the living room and do as Drake had told her. She wouldn't wimp out the very first time their relationship was tested, or at least the first time she disobeyed him. Somehow she thought that would disappoint him far more than the fact that she'd disobeyed him.

With five minutes to spare, she had everything prepared and on the stove, the sizzling sounds of food cooking and the inviting aroma filling the air. All that was left were the steaks, and she wouldn't put those on until they were ready to eat.

Knowing she now had less than five minutes until Drake arrived, she
fled to the living room, ignoring the twinges of pain in her knee. If she hadn't spent all afternoon napping on the couch and had been moving around, her knee wouldn't even hurt. But after so many hours of inactivity, of course it was going to protest the sudden movements.

She hastily undressed and then carefully folded her clothing and put it on the coffee table. She didn't want it to appear as though she'd rushed through the process, even if that was precisely what she'd done.

She slid her shoes underneath the coffee table and then laid her bra and panties on top of her torn jeans and shirt.

When she was naked, she walked to the end of the couch and leaned into it, running her hands over the leather arm, and then leaned forward, testing how comfortable she would be when he asked her to bend over.

Okay, that wasn't so bad.

She straightened and dutifully took her position exactly as he'd described and then closed her eyes, knowing the next few minutes until he arrived would seem like an eternity.

•   •   •

Drake waited impatiently for the elevator doors to open and immediately stepped off, not even taking the time to hang his coat over the coatrack. He slipped it off on his way to the living room and tossed it aside.

His breath caught in his throat when he saw Evangeline standing just as he'd instructed her at the end of the couch, her bare skin glowing in the low light. Only a lamp was on in the far corner, lending an intimate air to the room.

He walked up behind her, unable to resist such beautiful temptation. He brushed her hair over one shoulder and pressed his lips to the curve of her neck. She shivered beneath his touch and tiny chill bumps danced across her skin.

“So responsive,” he murmured. “So fucking beautiful.”

He heard her soft sigh, as beautiful as she was.

“Stay right where you are,” he commanded.

Then he left the room to get the crop from the bedroom. This would be her first experience with anything other than his hand and the few smacks he'd administered to her ass, and therefore he wouldn't graduate to something harsher. Not until he was certain she was ready and with him all the way.

When he returned, she was still standing there, as still as a statue, her pale skin glowing in unearthly light. She was a goddess and she was all his.

He trailed the end of the crop down her spine, eliciting another shiver from her. He continued his gentle exploration, letting her become accustomed to the feel of the leather before he marked her gorgeous ass.

He moved to the side of her so he could see her face, her expression.

“I'm going to administer six lashes,” he said in an even voice. “Just to remind you in the future that you are not to disobey me. But fair warning, Angel, if it happens again, I won't be as merciful.”

She shifted her weight, an almost imperceptible movement, but he was tuned in to her completely and missed nothing. He was about to administer the first blow, still to the side of her, because he wanted to watch her reaction. The moment when the initial pain faded into pleasure. He wanted to watch her eyes go hazy at the pleasure he gave her.

But a sudden flash of pain and obvious distress briefly chased through her eyes before it was gone, leaving him to wonder if he'd imagined it. But no. He'd clearly seen it. He frowned because he hadn't done more than stroke her skin with the flogger.

He let his hand fall to his side as he continued to stare piercingly at her.

“What's wrong?” he demanded. “Evangeline, look at me.”

Slowly she turned her head so that she faced him fully and he was no longer just seeing her profile. Her eyes glittered with unshed tears and it gutted him.

“Nothing is wrong, Drake. I won't disobey you again,” she said quietly. “I'm sorry. I was wrong. I was being a petulant little child and I was a bitch. You didn't deserve that from me.”

And then her weight shifted again, and he saw that she moved most of her weight to one leg instead of having both feet planted solidly on the floor. She winced, pain once more flashing in her eyes before she visibly got herself under control and turned to face ahead. She leaned forward to plant her hands on the couch as he'd instructed her earlier, but all Drake could see, remember, was the pain in her eyes. Pain that he had in no way caused.

His gaze dropped down her body, searching for any discernible source of discomfort. Then his eyes narrowed when he saw what the couch had effectively hidden from his view. A bandage on her knee.

He went immediately to his knees, turning her to the side so she faced him, and he could now plainly see the dressing over her knee.

“What the fuck?” he murmured, purposely pitching his voice low so that his emphatic words held no bite or anger directed at
her
.

He stood rapidly and then picked her up, cradling her against his chest, and then walked around to the front of the couch and carefully laid her down. Then he gently lifted her legs, wanting to cause her no further pain, and draped them across his lap so he could get a closer look at her knee.

“What happened?” he demanded.

She sighed. “It's nothing, Drake. I promise. It was stupid of me and I was clumsy. Zander and I went out to buy groceries and then he insisted I needed a pair of sunglasses and so he stopped in a boutique and bought two pairs of hideously expensive sunglasses.”

She shuddered and closed her eyes, and he realized she was more upset over the cost of the sunglasses than she was over the injury to her knee.

“When we walked out, I tripped. I'm not even sure what exactly happened except one minute I was standing and the next I was facedown on
the sidewalk and Zander was freaking out. He wanted to call you immediately, but I begged him not to. So he called Justice to come get us. Only Justice
and
Silas arrived, and then Silas insisted he bring me to your doctor.”

Drake's eyes narrowed as he absorbed her account. “And why didn't you think it important to call me?”

“You were busy,” she whispered, distress radiating from her voice. “Your note said you would be busy and that you would be wrapped up in important meetings all day and that you'd be late for dinner. It was nothing worth disturbing you over. Your doctor stitched it up in just a few minutes and gave me medicine to numb the wound.”

“He had to
stitch
you?” he asked behind tightly clenched teeth.

Her eyes grew larger with fear and nervousness, but he was too determined to get to the bottom of this whole mess before allaying her fears that he was angry with her. Jesus. He should have been the one with her. The whole goddamn time.

“Only a few,” she said defensively. “I don't know why he even bothered. I've suffered far worse before, and slapping a bandage over it worked just fine.”

“That may have been okay before,” he said, trying to get a grip on his emotions. “Before you belonged to me, that is. But it is not okay
now
. You belong to me now, and I will always ensure you are cared for above all others. Your comfort and safety are second to none other. You should not have had to go to the clinic with only a strange man to comfort you. I should have been there to hold you and to carry you up to our apartment after and ensure your absolute comfort.
That's
my job, Angel.”

He pinned her with an intense stare. “Now tell me. What's
your
job?”

She looked confused and her brow creased in obvious puzzlement. “I don't understand what you're asking,” she said helplessly. “I'm not being deliberately obtuse, Drake. I'm just confused by your question.”

“My job is to always take care of you. To provide for you. To ensure your safety when I cannot be near and most especially to ensure that
you are comfortable above all else. You only have one job, my angel. Obey.”

Evangeline stared in wonder at Drake as a myriad of conflicting emotions assailed her over his matter-of-fact stating of the facts—the truth—as he saw them. She felt slight irritation. But mostly she felt profound relief. As though a great burden had shifted and had been lifted from her shoulders.

Could it really be as easy as he made it appear? That this man, this beautiful, dominant man would cherish her, pamper her, spoil her, protect her, take care of her and in return, all she had to do was to obey? It was almost more than she could fathom. Like she was in a never-ending fantasy and if she opened her eyes it would all be gone in the blink of an eye, and so she held tightly to the dream, squeezing her eyes tighter shut to keep reality at bay.

Then he leaned down and very carefully peeled away the bandage, and after a moment's inspection, he reverently pressed his lips to the wound. She was astonished that in one moment he was all raw power, bristling alpha male about to discipline his submissive, and in the next second he was so exquisitely loving and tender that it brought an altogether different kind of sting to her eyes.

“From now on if anything, and I mean
anything
, should happen to you, I want to know about it immediately. I don't care how insignificant you think it is. I expect to know about it the minute it happens. Understand?”

She swallowed and then somehow managed to verbalize her consent around the knot in her throat.

Then to her further shock, he gently slid her body further over his lap until he cradled her against his chest. He pressed his lips firmly to her brow and then stood, lifting her higher into his arms. He carried her into the kitchen and then eased her down on the island with the rest of the kitchen surrounding her.

“Tonight, I cook for my injured princess,” he said, a gleam in his eyes.

Appalled, she immediately launched her protest. “In no way do a few stitches keep me from cooking dinner. Besides, everything is nearly done except for the steaks, and they'll only need a few minutes to grill on each side.”

He tweaked her nose affectionately and then followed it by kissing her long and leisurely on the lips.