Training Her Curves - London (A BBW Billionaire Domination & Submission Romance) (9 page)

"As soon as we're alone, you're telling me everything."

I told her almost everything. Well, a little less than almost everything. I omitted the tragedy of Simon's childhood, the medical condition that had kept him awake the last two decades or how he had tied me up in New York while Rick Wells took photographs of me losing my mind to pleasure. Beyond that, I told her everything -- more or less.

For the first three days home, Jo-Jo's curiosity seemed sated. It helped that she was still caught up in the idea that we might have a world class hacker on our side fluent in Russian. I think she expected a Red Bull infused marathon of code attacks that would give us Mishka's exact location within the first twenty-four hours...then within the next twenty-four...and then the twenty-four after that until she plopped down in the chair opposite my desk on the morning of the fourth day in need of diversion.

She had one leg crossed over the other, the foot of the top leg jiggling with ill contained energy. "Did the two of you sleep together?"

"Are you asking me if I rode Simon's cock all night long?" I asked, hoping to maneuver her into the right question that I could answer without lying or disclosing what had happened. I had, indeed, slept with Simon. And sexual contact had occurred. But I wasn't ready to divulge the particulars because it would only lead to more disclosures that I didn't yet feel comfortable sharing.

She leaned forward, her eyes alert but bloodshot from too little time taking care of herself since Mishka's disappearance. "I'm asking if you rode his cock at all?"

"I did not," I answered, staring her straight in the face without blinking or immediately looking elsewhere after I finished speaking.

"So what led you to trust him?" She looked over her shoulder as if we were conspiring, the gesture wasted because she had shut my door before sitting down. "You had less than half a day with him and part of that sounded like you wanted to rip his balls off--"

"The tone of our conversation changed after I spoke with you on the phone." I started tidying up my desk but Marjolein reached across the surface and captured my wrists.

"You never sort your desktop. Dylan swears you're going to disappear one day beneath an avalanche of sketches and fabric swatches." Her hands still gripping me, she scooted her chair closer. "You've also started to fray at the edges after your first day back from London. I've never seen you check your phone or messages so much or pace so much. You'll be down a dress size before the week is up!"

"Can I have my hands back, please?" I delivered the request in a deadpan, but my emotions sizzled and popped beneath the thin veneer of a patient exterior. I wasn't mad at Marjolein for restraining me or because of her questions. I wasn't even irritated by her keen perceptions. All of me was in quiet turmoil over three days passing without any word from Simon.

Releasing me, Jo-Jo folded her arms around her shoulders in a hug. "Sorry."

"It's okay, pregnant chicks get a little grabby, especially when someone they love is in danger."

All the blood drained from her face. I jumped up, thinking she might pass out.

"No one knows," she whispered. "Not even Dylan. I'm not even sure. What makes you think it's true?"

"Because you're not you," I answered. "You've already lost a dress size -- I'm guessing from nausea. You stopped everything with caffeine. You wanted to puke when Jake brought dinner by last night and you love lobster. Do I really need to give more examples?"

She shook her head.

"You're either pregnant or your sick with something else, something internal." I pointed a motherly finger at her despite our being so close in age and my not being the pregnant one. "You need to go to a doctor today and find out which it is."

She chewed at her bottom lip but I wasn't going to let her get away with postponing the decision to go or deciding not to go at all until the situation with Mishka was resolved.

"You're going. You're getting up, grabbing your purse, and going." I rose and came around to her side of the desk. "I'll cover with big brother. It's about time he let me in on what we're doing to retrieve our Russian friend."

"He wont. He's shut me out. It's an all boys' club now. Both of your brothers, Austin and Simon. He said anyone with direct knowledge could go to jail if Simon is caught."

My butt landed swiftly on the top of my desk, upsetting the growing mountain of sketches and fabric squares so that they spilled onto the floor. "Simon could go to jail?"

Bright blue eyes flashed up in my direction and I knew I was busted. I should have shown concern about my brothers first and foremost. Still, I tried to cover my tracks with a logical explanation.

"I mean, he'd definitely be the one going to jail before all the others."

Flashing an incredulous frown at me, Jo-Jo got onto her feet, her hands planting against generous hips that even morning sickness couldn't diminish. "I'm going to the doctor now. And if you want to know what he says, you're going to tell me about what's going on between you and Simon."

My nose crinkling in defeat, I gave a short nod. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"Negative," she answered, her tone lightening. "Two of us disappearing will just arouse Dylan's suspicions. I don't want him distracted."

I reached for the door, wanting to open it for her because it's wrong to let a pregnant woman open her own doors, especially if she's carrying my future niece or nephew. "What do I tell him if he asks where you're at?"

Casting a quick glance at my desk and then the floor, she chirped her reply before wrapping me in a tight hug and leaving.

"Tell him I'm out renting a bulldozer to tidy up your desk!"

********************

Morning turned to afternoon and then late afternoon. I was checking my phone and email twice as often as I had been before Marjolein came into my office that morning. I had twice the reasons to check!

My imagination turned morbid. I'm sure my face would have given me away instantly if Dylan had seen me, but Jake showed up at one o'clock and they disappeared into his office. I drifted near the door, irritated that the building's construction was too solid for me to hear anything. I wandered out to the manufacturing floor, losing myself for a while in the hum of equipment and the buzz of workers talking to pass the time, their eyes and fingers on the fabric in front of them.

The general supervisor snuck up on me from behind and tapped my shoulder. He was one of Dylan's hires, in his early fifties but with hair that had turned entirely white. I didn't mesh well with the man. He was obsessive, I was impulsive. But I couldn't fault him on his work. Nothing happened on the floor that he didn't know about and everything ran smoothly. We were ahead of plan and saving money without cutting corners.

"Your brothers are looking for you, Miss Kehoe -- and Miss Dekker."

My pulse had accelerated uncomfortably until he added Marjolein's name. If Jake and Dylan were looking for both of us, then the summons didn't mean bad news from the doctor's office.

"Thank you, Ed. Jo-Jo is running an errand. I'll message her."

His head bobbed efficiently, just enough energy exerted to release me to my brothers. I slid through the door to the studio while I pulled out my phone. Before I could dial her number, I spotted Marjolein through the open door of Dylan's office.

She waved at me, smiling, then made an impatient motion for me to join them. I shifted my power walk to full speed, not knowing if I was about to hear some good news about Mishka or good news about a baby. At least, seeing her wide smile, I thought I was in for good news and I badly needed it to be true.

Keeping my lips tightly sealed, I entered Dylan's office. Jake closed the door behind me then braced his back against the entrance. I looked from him to Dylan. My oldest brother didn't look like he was about to be a father, so I figured we were going to talk about our missing Russian.

"We've got a lead," Dylan started. "Courtesy of our friend in London."

I nodded, but he didn't seem ready to tell me more. "And?"

"We know who has Nazarov, now it's a matter of finding out where they are keeping him."

Hearing Dylan's words, I felt like a bucket of concrete had been poured over my head. I knew Mishka wasn't off grid because he wanted to be. But I had been optimistically holding out hope that he was deep undercover and in control of his situation.

"You're saying he's a prisoner?"

A short, reluctant nod from my brother confirmed my worst suspicions.

"But this is new," Jo-Jo added, looking hopefully at Dylan. "The people who have him have only had him a few days according to Simon. They need to move him and we'll know when they do."

My heart rate kept accelerating. I heard Jake push off from the door and then his arms were wrapped around me in a tight hug. "We're getting him back, Ree. Dylan and I are leaving for Europe in the morning. You and Alexa will be staying with Jo-Jo until we get back. You've got tonight to pack a bag. Be at the house by six if you want to collect your good-bye kisses."

Marjolein's mouth dropped open and her head whipped in Dylan's direction. I realized that whatever additional information she'd heard my brothers discussing before I arrived, their impending departure wasn't part of the debrief.

"Come on, baby girl." Jake tugged me toward the door. "I'll drop you off at your loft before I break the news to Alexa."

I let him lead me from the room. Just before the door shut, I looked over my shoulder to see Marjolein folding herself into Dylan's arms, tears streaming down her face.

********************

I puttered around my loft for a few hours after Jake brought me home. I had assaulted him on the drive with questions, both about Mishka's situation and Simon's involvement. He kept his answers short and mostly uninformative. I knew Simon had contacted them much earlier in the day, even before Marjolein left for the doctor's office. The intervening time before they informed me and Jo-Jo was spent planning for operations in Russia and making sure their fiancees and baby sister were well guarded while they were gone messing with the Russian mob.

Shoving my digital art tablet into my suitcase, I searched for its stylus and extra nibs. I had no idea how long I would be under lock and key while my brothers played commando. I also didn't know what Jo-Jo had found out at the doctor's office. She had seemed to beam happiness on her return, all the way up to Dylan saying he was leaving in the morning for something that could well put his life in danger.

I felt it in my bones that she was pregnant, I just lacked confirmation. But I would let her contact me with the news. I didn't want to mess things up by accidentally tipping Dylan off.

Finding the stylus, I shoved it in the bag then returned to my phone where it rested alongside my laptop. I checked my texts, my instant messenger, my emails. Nothing from Jo-Jo, nothing from Simon.

Tomorrow, Ree. You'll make Jake tell you where Simon is at and you'll find out if you're going to be an aunt.

Sagging in my desk chair, I repeated the cycle of checking for messages even though less than a minute had passed.

My intercom buzzed, jolting me out of the chair and toward the front door. I jabbed the speaker button. "Yes, what is it?"

"Flowers Miss Kehoe, Reggie is bringing them up. Uhm..."

Whatever Tony the night guard was going to say, he didn't. I heard a whisper, the sound too low to detect the gender and then he hung up without a good-bye.

Something scuffed against my door and I threw it open, shocking the night janitor so that he staggered toward the railing. Grabbing his arm, I yanked him toward me and braced him until he had his balance back.

His pale cheeks reddening, he straightened his uniform and offered a quick nod. "Saved my ass there, Miss Kehoe."

"Anytime, Tony." Smiling, I bit back any further reply. The man was approaching seventy and I was pissed the night guard had sent him up to deliver flowers that I could have retrieved myself. I made a mental note to add an extra fifty to Tony's online tip jar before I went to bed.

He started to bend down and retrieve the flowers he had placed on the floor but I beat him to it. "I've got it. Thank you."

I looked at the object in my hands as Tony left. An orchid with snow white petals and sepals, the lip and throat a dark salmon. The sender had placed it in a ceramic planter with a thick layer of wrapping tissue surrounding the base. A card was tucked into the paper. I plucked it out as I turned to re-enter the loft.

Paphiopedilum Riona

Hearing two sets of feet in the hall, I spun back around. Tony was walking away, grinning like a maniac over his shoulder. Passing him was a face I didn't expect to see but had dreamt of every night since my return from London.

"Simon!" I blurted. My hands jerked and I almost dropped the planter. I recovered and almost dropped it again because my damn body had started to shake.

He took the orchid from me, his lips brushing against my cheek before he disappeared into my home. "I've been cultivating this hybrid for almost a decade but hadn't settled on a name. I hope you don't mind the one I selected."

I remained in the hall, too stunned to move and only barely capable of speech. "You named a flower after me?"

"Who else would I name a flower after, pudding?" He placed the planter on my coffee table, shrugged out of his leather jacket, then returned to the hall and drew me inside. Closing the door, he locked it then pulled me tight to him. His lips found my neck, his words muffled by my flesh. "Miss me, love?"

"Yes!" I choked on my answer. I tried to pull away to look at him but he wouldn't allow it. "No one said you were coming."

"No one knew," he answered, his hands sliding under my blouse and bracing against the center of my back. "I didn't get the feeling that you had said anything about us to your big brother. Either of them."

Us...

I wrapped my arms around his neck, the last of my self control focused on not sobbing like a baby. "I didn't want to distract them with details or give them a reason to refuse your assistance."