To Command and Collar [Masters of the Shadowlands 6] (34 page)

Could I keep Master R happy
? Kim frowned.
Do I want to serve him just because I love him
? Oh, wonderful. More questions. But for right now… “What time is it?”
“A little after nine. Why?” Jessica asked.

“I have a visit to make.” She rummaged in her purse and pulled out the note she’d made earlier. It was downright scary how easy it was to use the Internet to get a person’s address.
She started to ask Gabi to lend her the car, then rethought. Panicking on someone’s doorstep wouldn’t be smart—she should have brought her escort dog. “Gabi, can you come with me?”

Chapter Nineteen

Her plane would be leaving right about now. Raoul frowned at the design for a cable bridge on his computer and shut the program down. If he continued in this half-assed fashion, he’d end up redoing all the work. He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.

Time to get your life in order, Sandoval
. Truly, he should be grateful for yesterday, for seeing how she reacted to him. His last doubt had been resolved, and he no longer had to argue with himself whether he wanted her to return. He rubbed his cheek, scowling at the scratchiness. Forgot to shave again. He needed to clean up before the party.

If she showed up and dropped to her knees and begged him to make her his slave, he wouldn’t agree. He closed his eyes and hauled in a painful breath.
No
. Over the past weeks, he’d realized he couldn’t take that step. Not now. Especially not with a woman who’d steal his heart, his life, and then decide she’d made a mistake.

He glanced around the house he’d built in an attempt to eradicate his wife from his memories.
Now Kimberly’s presence infused it instead. So many memories just from the few weeks they’d been together, and even though he’d known she’d leave.
How much worse would it be if they tried to build a future together? And then she’d tell him she didn’t want a master, didn’t want to serve him—or love him either. Would he have to build a new house again?
He tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a response to a gut shot. His love for Alicia bore no resemblance to the overwhelming way he felt about Kimberly. She was warmth and laughter and hopes he should never have harbored.
If he really thought she’d stay with him, accept him, that might be different. If he’d met her before her slavery, maybe…maybe he would have risked trying to teach her about her own needs.
She was brave, so very resilient, but that would ask too much.
He’d tried living a vanilla life. He couldn’t do it again. He’d unconsciously take the control from a little sub, and she would resent it. And leave him.
No. Maybe in a few years, he’d be willing to open himself up to the potential for pain. Kimberly would have married some nice normal man, probably have some children by then. The thought stabbed into his heart like a rapier.
He swallowed and forced a smile. He would wish her well.
Mouth tight, he sat back down at his computer and brought up the program. He’d work. Period.
An hour later, the sound of the doorbell ran through Raoul’s empty house. He glanced at the clock—only ten in the morning. The party for Kari and Dan didn’t start until one, and the caterers had already arrived and filled the fridge. Who would this be? Kimberly? The momentary hope lit his heart and died as quickly. Long gone.
He saved his design and headed for the front, actually a bit pleased at the interruption. Anything was better than the hollow feeling of his home.
Pitiful, Sandoval
. But he’d be happy to leave again.
He pulled open the door, assuming he’d be buying some Girl Scout cookies or a magazine subscription he didn’t need. The neighborhood children had him figured for a soft touch. But no child waited in the entry.
He stared for a second before his voice would work. “Mamá?”
“
Mijo
.” His mother had tears in her eyes. Lucia stood a pace behind, openly crying.
Had one of his nephews been hurt? Raoul took his mother’s frail hands. “Mamá, what has happened? What is wrong?”
“Raoul, I was so cruel. I didn’t know.” His mother wrapped her arms around him, weeping as if her heart were breaking.
“Please, please, don’t cry. Whatever is wrong, I will fix it.”
A second later, his sister attached herself like a burr to his side.
Carajo, this looked bad. “Has something happened to the boys?” More sobbing. He clamped a hand on his sister’s arm and gave it a shake. “Lucia, talk to me.”
His sister gave a shuddering laugh and wiped her face, then rubbed her mother’s back. “Shhh, Mamá, we’re scaring him.”
Raoul growled. “Lucia, you will tell me what is wrong. Now.”
They exchanged glances and smiled.
Smiled?
“Dominant, yes, you are surely that,” his mother said. “You sound like your papá did.”
He winced and tried to step back. “I just—”
“’Mano, we found last night that your wife lied to us that day. The day you filed for divorce,” Lucia said. Her voice turned icy. “Alicia said you whipped her until she bled, that you hit her over and over. You forced her to be a slave and gave her to other men. She said she had to run to get away from you.”
“We didn’t believe her.” His mother wiped her face with the tiny handkerchief she always tucked under her belt. “But she showed us horrible bloody marks and bruises everywhere.”
Raoul stared at them. “But… I didn’t.”
“No, you didn’t.” Lucia’s eyes flashed black with anger. “But when Mamá asked you if you ever hit Alicia and if you ever had put a collar on her, you said yes.” She held her hand up to stop him from speaking. “You thought we were talking about how you lived. Raoul, we thought you were admitting to beating her and forcing her to be a slave.”
Someone had jammed a lead pipe into his chest. Pain with every pulse. “All these years, and you thought—”
“Mijo, I am sorry,” his mamá whispered. “I should have known you would never do such a thing. Only you said you had. But you didn’t.”
“Then—” Why didn’t his brain work? “How did you find out—”
Both women smiled at him, and Lucia said sweetly, “It’s not important, ’mano.”
The hell it wasn’t. His mouth tightened. He’d find out, damned if he wouldn’t. But for now… “Come in, Mamá. Lucia. I have coffee made.” As they walked inside, his heart swelled. His family was in his home.
“Raoul, this is beautiful,” his mother said as she walked through the great room, and his throat tightened when he saw his mother’s eyes. Love. Pride. How long since she’d looked at him that way? “We will not stay long, but…we couldn’t wait any longer.”
“I wouldn’t let her call. I wasn’t sure you’d talk to us,” Lucia admitted. “I’ve been horrible to you.”
He shook his head, remembering the marks on Alicia’s body. He pulled cups from the cupboard and set them on the island. “You thought I’d abused her. I would have reacted the same way.”
The time passed quickly as they sat in the kitchen, eating cookies and drinking coffee and catching up.
Too soon for his taste, Lucia stood, saying, “The boys will be home soon.” She gave him the mischievous smile he remembered from childhood and hadn’t seen in three long years. “But we expect to see you for Sunday dinner tomorrow. I have a feeling Mamá will fix all your favorites.”
His mother looked up at him, and his heart caught at the pleading look in her eyes. Begging forgiveness.
“Of course I’ll be there,” he said gently and kissed his mother’s cheek. He walked them to their car and helped his mother in.
“Raoul.” His sister waited beside the driver’s door. Pleased, he walked around to give her a final hug.
She returned it, then took an unhappy breath, one that made him tense. “One more unpleasantness; then we’ll put it behind us. This morning, I called Alicia’s sister. Penny’s been divorced for a while, ever since she found out Randolph was cheating on her.” Her mouth thinned. “She hadn’t known that the
other
woman was her own sister.”
“How did you hear that?” Raoul’s fingers clamped on her shoulders. Somehow they had the whole story—all of it. And to call Penny. “Lucia, that wasn’t—”
“Yes, it was necessary. I know you protect women,
mi hermano
. But, speaking as a woman, there are certain things I would want to know. A man’s cheating is…” She shrugged, having survived her own divorce. “But such a betrayal from a sister? There is no excuse under heaven. Alicia will find her family—and friends—to be less welcoming, I think.” Lucia patted his cheek. She’d worn the same smug smile after he’d used her Barbie dolls in his war games and she’d turned his prized comic books into cat litter in revenge. A firm believer in retribution was Lucia.
She added, “I felt much better after the call.” Another kiss on the cheek, and his sister slid into the car.
Women could be much crueler than men. Smiling a little, Raoul watched the sedan move down his long driveway. As he walked back into his house, his brows drew together. But he still wanted to know—how had they found out all the details of his divorce?

* * * *

By one thirty that afternoon, the doorbell in Raoul’s house rang incessantly as people arrived for the barbecue. He shook his head, still amazed at how easily Z had manipulated him.

Everyone had wanted to celebrate Dan and Kari’s new baby. In many ways, it felt like the first for the Shadowlands Masters, even if some had children from previous marriages. Marcus and Gabi would have given the party, but Gabi wasn’t sure she’d be in town. Cullen’s home wasn’t large enough. Sam’s house was isolated in the country. Neither of the dommes could host the party. Z liked to entertain, but this time, he’d given an excuse and said Raoul had the space, a big patio and the beach, and was convenient to everyone.

Yes, the cabrón had set him up.

At least Jessica and her friends had taken over answering the door. Raoul concentrated on the barbecue, needing to stay occupied. Although his family’s visit had lightened his heart, the sight of so many couples in the lifestyle rubbed his nose in the fact that he had no one.

Mistress Anne walked out on the patio, her favorite submissive trailing behind her. She patted the pretty young man’s face. “Joey, look lively and help the others set up the tables.”
The redhead gave his mistress a meltingly sweet smile and moved stiffly toward the kitchen. Considering Anne’s sadistic streak, she’d probably shoved an overly large anal plug up the poor sub’s ass. Oddly enough, Jessica was moving in the same fashion. What had the little blonde done to get herself in trouble with Z this time?
The subs trotted back and forth, carrying platters, covering the long patio tables with food. A hum of conversation came from the guests sitting on the patio, splashing and squeals from those in the pool. Some had taken the chance to walk on the beach and enjoy the bright afternoon sun.
Sam walked over with a cold beer. Raoul took a small drink before putting the bottle down. The way he felt, the alcohol looked too appealing, and he didn’t drink for escape.
“I took her home,” Sam said, as if continuing a conversation.
“I know. Thank you for caring for her.” Hoping Sam wouldn’t continue, Raoul turned the chicken, the scent of the sizzling meat filling the air.
“She call you?”
“No.”
“Hell. She was—”
“I checked with Marcus yesterday to make sure she’d gotten home.” And heard about her flight time. He glanced at his watch. Her plane would have left a while back.
Gone
. That was good. It was good.
“You going to let her just go?” Sam asked, his gaze on the ocean. “After what she’s been through, you figure she won’t get over it?”
Raoul sighed and shut the grill top. After wiping his hands, he picked up his beer again. “At one time, I thought she might be willing to try. But it is better this way. She’s been hurt, and to be with me in…in the type of relationship I want is more than she could take.”
More uncertainty than I’m willing to risk
. When had he turned so cautious?
“Pretty much the conclusion I’d come to,” Sam muttered, and Raoul decided he wasn’t talking about Kimberly but about Linda. Sam had kept the redheaded slave safe, as Kimberly had asked, but apparently something else had happened.
Not that Sam would confide in Raoul. A man wouldn’t…not unless drunk. He winced. The last time he’d drunk that much was three years ago, after Alicia’s betrayal.
“You know, about Kim,” Sam started. “At the courthouse, she didn’t—” His voice was drowned out by the arrival of the Shadowlands trainees, all dressed in civilian clothing. Sam turned away at a hail from Cullen.
Raoul almost didn’t recognize the trainees: Uzuri in a pale yellow halter-top and shorts that accented her dark chocolate skin and with her kinky hair in dreadlocks. Dara’s blonde spiked hair was tinted purple. In a pink sundress, Maxie looked cheerful and sweet.
Pretty Sally brought up the rear, in short shorts and three tank tops layered in the odd female way. After exchanging greetings with the milling submissive group, she leaned over to Jessica and whispered something, receiving a smile and a big hug in return.
Both women turned to look at him…and saw him watching them. Color rose in Sally’s cheeks, and she shifted so her back was toward him.
Raoul took a sip of his beer, his interest aroused at the un-Sallylike behavior. No greeting. No hug. Was something wrong?
When Sally said something, Jessica glanced at him and met his eyes. She whispered to Sally, and the trainee’s spine grew stiffer.
Raoul’s suspicions started to rise. He hadn’t lived with slaves and submissives without learning a few things—like the ability to detect body language that sang of a guilty conscience.
None of the other doms received the darting looks. So whatever they’d done had something to do with him. And Kimberly? No. She’d been home with Gabi yesterday evening. As a trainee, Sally would have been at the Shadowlands last night. His eyes narrowed.
Sally was a bubbly, talkative little submissive who’d been part of the club for maybe five years. None of the other trainees had been around as long. Raoul rubbed his chin. Ever since his mamá and sister’s visit this morning, he’d wondered how they’d learned about Alicia’s betrayal. The only person he’d told had been Dan, and his friend never revealed a confidence.
But no one paid attention to the submissives in the club. They’d been trained to be invisible.
Perhaps too invisible
. Could she have overheard something when he’d been talking with Dan?
Sally peeked over her shoulder, saw him watching her, and jerked back around.
Hmm
. Not looking away, he drank his beer.
“Sandoval, how are you doing?” Vance Buchanan walked out the door onto the patio, Kouros beside him. “Who’re you staring at?”
Raoul nodded toward the group of submissives. “The little brunette.”
The two FBI agents turned. Sally darted a look at Raoul and saw all three men looking at her. The color flared in her cheeks. She edged closer to Jessica.
“If she was my sub,” Kouros said, “I be wondering what she’d been up to.”
Buchanan grinned. “Yep, looks guilty as hell, but she’s the prettiest little perp I’ve ever seen.”
Raoul considered. If Sally had been the one to tell his family about Alicia, she’d done him a favor. Yet a submissive should know better than to divulge a dom’s private affairs. As a trainee in the Shadowlands, she fell under the authority of all the Masters—including him. He didn’t have the heart to punish her but was obligated to teach her discretion. “I think I know what’s up, and a bit of intimidation would be appropriate,” he said. “Want to interrogate her while I watch?”
Kouros leaned on his cane. “It would be a pleasure.” He waited until Sally turned, then gestured.
Come here.
The color drained from her face, and Buchanan covered his laugh with a cough.
She crossed to them, all bounce gone, her gaze down. Across the patio, Z looked up, studied the situation for a second, grinned, and returned to talking with Olivia and Sam.
Jessica was watching, her brows drawn together. Definitely worried. Raoul leaned over to Kouros. “Better hurry, or Z’s sub will spoil the fun with either a confession or a tantrum.”
Kouros followed his gaze, and his lips quirked. “Got it.”
Sally stopped in front of the men and lifted her chin. “Did you need something, Sirs?”
Raoul smiled at her. “Trainee, these two doms want to speak with you.” His use of the word
trainee
put her on notice that she was expected to obey.
“Yes, Master Raoul.”
Buchanan moved behind her, blocking the sight of her from the other submissives.
Kouros stepped forward. Big men, both doms, intimidating in size and personality. “What we need from you is the truth,” Kouros said, his clipped New England accent striking the sub like sparks from a low burning fire.
Sally tried to back up and bumped into Buchanan. He grinned at Raoul over her head. “But—”
“We’ll start with something easy,” Kouros purred, setting his hand under her chin. “What is your name?”
“Sally, Sir.” She made an obvious effort to stand straight, but Raoul could see her melting under the force of Kouros’s personality. Experienced doms, years as FBI agents—the girl didn’t have a chance.
“Very nice, Sally. You can tell the truth, see?” His voice turned silky with approval. His free hand stroked her hair back behind her ear, both a caress—and exposing her face more.
She stared up at him like a cornered mouse, an unusual change in the spirited sub.
Buchanan stroked her bare arms, adding to the sense of reward.
“Now tell me what you did to Master Raoul,” Kouros demanded, his voice as cold as a New England winter.
She moaned, her hands rubbing on her hips in a self-comforting motion. She tried to look at Raoul, but Kouros shifted, keeping her gaze on his face.
Raoul smothered a smile, making mental notes. He rather liked interrogation scenes, and this one was pretty lightweight…except for Sally’s obvious guilt and the agent’s undeniable experience with breaking down hardened criminals.
“N-nothing.” She pulled in a breath, lifted her chin. “I haven’t even seen him for a long time.”
“Oh, you definitely did something, little one,” Kouros said softly. “I don’t want to get angry with you, sweetheart.” He moved closer until she could probably feel his body heat, until she had to tilt her head back to stare up at him. “There are other things Vance and I would rather do…to you.”
Her eyes got bigger, and the combination of anxiety and sudden arousal was a fine sight.
“What are you doing?” Jessica stepped around Buchanan. She actually shoved Kouros back a step and pulled Sally out from between the two agents. “Leave her alone!”
As Buchanan and Kouros moved back, Sally recovered her spirit. Her spine straightened, although she quickly edged out of grabbing distance.
“Ah well.” Ignoring glares that should have fried his ass, Buchanan grinned at Raoul. “How about drinks for two hard-working agents?”
“It would be my pleasure.” Raoul looked for the other agent.
Using his cane to block Jessica, Kouros cornered Sally again. When his eyes met hers, she froze. “We’ll continue this at another time, pet,” he murmured. “And I assure you, you
will
tell us everything we want to know.” He ran a finger down her flushed cheek and smiled.
As the Fed turned away, Raoul saw Sally shiver. Then her hands fisted. “Not until hell freezes over,” she muttered, just loudly enough to hear.
As Jessica slung an arm around her waist and escorted her friend back to the safety of the submissive group, Kouros joined Buchanan.
Raoul grinned at him. He had a feeling Sally would probably disappear into the bathroom the next time she spotted the agents. “Let me get you a beer, Kouros.”
After Raoul had taken care of his guests and introduced them to a couple of the doms they hadn’t met, he returned to check the barbecue. He loaded up a platter with chicken and handed it to Joey to put on the table.
“Hey, Raoul,” Gabi called from the back door. Her hand was in her dom’s in the way they had of walking with fingers laced, and Raoul firmly stomped on his envy. As she and Marcus crossed the patio, Raoul frowned at how stiffly she moved. Had she been spanked? No, it was the more gingerly movement of a submissive unaccustomed to walking around with an anal plug. Both her
and
Jessica? He’d think they’d been up to something together, but Marcus had said they weren’t going to the Shadowlands last night.
Raoul shook his head in confusion and kissed Gabi’s cheek. After dutifully admiring her current arm tattoos of SpongeBob—the same yellow as her halter top—he slapped Marcus’s arm. “Welcome, my friends. There is beer in the dark coolers and wine in the light cooler.”
“You look like
hell
,” Marcus said, his accent making the word sound like hey-all.
“Geez, Marcus, were you raised in a barn?” Gabi frowned, then looked over her dom’s shoulder and grinned, bouncing once on her toes.
Raoul followed her gaze, and his muscles went rigid.
Kimberly?
Dios, she was a vision in the afternoon sunlight, wearing a pretty strapless sundress, the blue the color of her eyes. Her black hair shone like a raven’s wing, rippling over her tanned shoulders. He walked forward a few steps, then had second thoughts.
Not your woman, Sandoval. Don’t want a woman. Be polite, then keep your distance.
Uncertainty crossed her face as she stared at him, and his hand went out before he knew, offering anything she needed from him. If she ran from him again, he wouldn’t be able to bear it. His mouth tightened.
No
. He did not want to walk this path.
Before he could withdraw his gesture, she crossed the last few steps and set her small hand into his. Unable to help himself, he drank in the sight of her, feeling as if the empty places in his heart were filling. Her hand in his trembled slightly, and he told himself to release her, but his fingers wouldn’t open.
“Kimberly.” His voice came out ragged. But at least she wasn’t throwing up at the sight of him, although it might be easier on him if she did. “I’m sorry about yesterday.”
“Yesterday?” Her gaze moved over his face, and she seemed as hungry for him as he was for her. “Yesterday. Oh…right. The courthouse,” she said. “God, I’m sorry, M—Raoul. Sam said you thought you’d made me sick, but that wasn’t it. I saw the Overseer. He came out of the courtroom right behind you, and when I heard his voice…” Her color faded.
She hadn’t been reacting to me
. The blast of relief was like having his chest cracked open. His mouth tightened. He didn’t want to feel like this.
“Well.” He needed to stop this now, not lead her on. Not encourage her. He pulled his hand back. “It’s good to see you again. You’re looking well.”