Treasured Submission (2 page)

Dean gave her a nod. "That's admirable. May I see your invitation again?" Her eyes showed her confusion at his request but she once again produced the card. Flipping it over and plucking a pen from his shirt pocket, Dean extended it to her. "You'll need to read and sign the card if you wish to remain." Her look told him that she'd never heard of any such requirement, but she took the pen. As she started to scrawl her signature, he stopped her. "No, you need to actually read what you are signing, Miss Pierce. It is a legal document, after all."

Lifting her eyes from the card, she saw the seriousness in his. Glancing around the room again, she saw that everyone still had their attention focused on what was happening. Hating having the spotlight turned on her, Abby picked up the card and began to read the small print. By the time she had finished, she was even more confused. "This is a non-disclosure agreement?" At his nod, she continued. "Wow, you must really think your book is special if you need an NDA. Does it hold that many secrets that you fear common book lovers will be rushing out to attempt to sell your ideas?" Though she was teasing, in an attempt to disguise her unease, she immediately wished she could take the words back at the look in his eyes.

"Miss Pierce, the card protects not only my work and the personal lives of my volunteers, but also serves as protection to Keith as the owner of this bookstore. Since you are a friend of his, I'm sure you don't wish to put him into an uncomfortable position." He paused as he watched the feigned amusement slide from her face, a blush taking its place. Gentling his tone, he continued. "It also serves to protect your identity as well. Perhaps you'd like to reconsider staying?"

Abigail felt shame course through her. He was obviously very serious and she felt like an inconsiderate jerk. Not only had she been late, she had been totally unprepared and disrespectful of a man who she had assumed was one of Keith's employees. A man who obviously took his work seriously, and was even now keeping the others waiting while he made sure she would be comfortable staying. Quickly rereading the card, she signed her name on the bottom, passing both it and his pen back to him.

"Thank you. If you become uncomfortable at any point, I will understand if you decide to leave. You may ask Keith to unlock the door." He was rewarded with her nod even as her lips compressed, as if to say she wouldn't leave if a dozen scary zombies wielding paddles and hairbrushes suddenly appeared from nowhere. Turning away, he grinned. It would indeed be very interesting to see how long the feisty woman was able to maintain her outward appearance of unconcern. His smile widened as he thought about the difference between his work and that of Dean Koontz—she might like horror stories, but could she handle what he instinctively knew she would discover to be a somewhat scary reality practiced by a great deal of people?

Abigail listened for the next hour as Dean discussed his book, her heart pounding as he described the role of a man and a woman in a traditional relationship and how it was the man's responsibility to guide his wife and children down the proper path. Her mouth dropped open as he discussed rules of behavior and consequences given when those rules were deemed broken. Looking around the room, she saw nothing but rapt faces either watching the charismatic speaker or engrossed in the pages of his book. Opening the copy Dean had loaned her, Abby glanced at the illustrations and could hardly believe that people in this day and age were willing to attend a review such as this. Instead of seeing mouths open in either shock or incredulity, she saw nods and smiles as the audience appeared to be actually agreeing with these archaic beliefs.

A movement drew her attention to the couple seated at the table closest to hers. A young woman was squirming slightly on her chair and her husband, if Dean's assumption that married couples were attending his seminar was correct, leaned close, put his hand on the woman's leg and whispered something in her ear. Whatever he said had the woman sitting up straighter, hands folded neatly in her lap, no longer squirming. Unaware that they were being observed, the couple returned their attention to the front of the room. Abby's gaze roved again, noticing that the women all seemed to be sitting still and upright in their chairs, hands either in their laps or folded on the tabletop, eyes glued to the front as if determined not to be seen as being inattentive. In contrast, their husbands looked far more comfortable, leaning back in their chairs, legs crossed at ankles, arms relaxed, hands occasionally turning pages in the book as they followed Dean's words.

Realizing that pages were being turned, Abigail herself flipped to the next chapter and couldn't stifle a small gasp. The page contained a color photograph detailing an obvious punishment. Her eyes remained riveted on the page until she heard chairs scraping against the floor and people beginning to talk. Glancing at the photo again, she quickly closed the book when she saw Dean walking towards her. Taking a deep breath, she gave him a tentative smile and he grinned back.

"Haven't scared you off yet?" he asked, tapping the book.

Blushing, she lifted her chin, determined not to let this man get the best of her. "Mr. Koonig, I'm a big girl and despite what I said earlier, I don't frighten that easily. I might not have been properly prepared, but I'm not going to just run away."

Secretly pleased at her answer, he nodded and held out his hand. "Dean, please, call me Dean. Now, Abigail, would you allow me to treat you to a cup of coffee? We're all taking a break before the demonstrations begin."

Abigail hesitated. "
Demonstrations?
" Had she heard him correctly? Looking around, she saw several couples mingling with each other, fresh cups of coffee or tea in hand. She looked back at Dean to see that his hand remained extended towards her. Tentatively taking it, she felt a repeat of the earlier jolt of electricity as his hand closed to completely engulf hers. Their brief encounter at the door had not allowed her time to truly register his appearance. He was tall and broad. His black hair was thick and wavy, the strands of silver at his temples serving to give him an almost forbidding presence—as if to announce he had been around for a while, seen quite a lot and had absolutely no problem in handling any situation. Piercing blue eyes could freeze her into immobility when he focused his gaze on her, and yet seemed to make her to want to curl up at his feet, drinking in every word he chose to share. When she stood, the top of her head barely reached the middle of his chest, and she had to fight the urge to lay her cheek onto his shirt to listen to the sound of his heartbeat. His size and proximity caused her heart to beat a bit faster, her blood to feel as if it were racing through her veins, and she wouldn't even think about the fact that her panties seemed to be growing a little damp. Never in her life had simply being close to a man caused her to feel the sensations that continued to bombard her.

Dean smiled down at her before guiding her to the coffee counter. His eyes slowly and deliberately raked up and down her frame as she turned to place her order, her ponytail swishing. Wavy strands of auburn shot through with glimmers of gold and red had him aching to wrap her hair around his fingers in order to hold her steady while he plundered her mouth. Her plain white t-shirt molded to a pair of breasts that he just knew would fit perfectly in the palms of his hands. His fingers almost twitched with the need to stroke her nipples into stiff, delicious morsels that his lips and tongue could savor. Eyes drifting lower, he imagined his hands doing the same, his fingers trailing across the flat of her stomach to unsnap and unzip the very item that hid what he was positive had to be an incredible bottom, judging by how the old pair of jeans did nothing to hide the fullness of her rear. Wondering exactly what sort of lingerie Miss Pierce preferred, Dean smiled, as he could easily picture the beauty in either a revealing thong or a pair of far more modest white briefs; the thought of his hands lowering either pair making his blood race faster. He was imagining ordering her to wrap what surely had to be a pair of sexy legs around his waist when a voice broke through his fantasy, announcing that his order was ready.

A bit shaken at his visceral reaction to the woman, Dean shook his head to gather his wits about him.
God, the woman has been sent by her partner to learn what I have to say, not to become the target of my own fantasies!
Taking a deep breath, he saw the cup on the counter. He had listened as Abby ordered a large caramel latte with extra whipped cream and caramel sauce.

"Sweet tooth?" he asked, grinning as he picked up her completed order and handed it to her.

"Guilty as charged," she answered, her lips curving up as she wrapped her hands around the cup. Her eyes closed in pleasure as she inhaled the rich aroma of the coffee, opening to find him looking rather intensely down at her. Stiffening for only an instant, Abby shrugged and then giggled, taking her first sip. "I confess, I'm sort of a coffee addict. I drink it all day long."

Dean accepted his own cup of black coffee from the barista. "Do you ever have trouble sleeping at night?" he began.

"No! I sleep just fine thank you," she interrupted, and continued with a sharp tone, "why? Do you think I should have trouble sleeping?"

"Relax, Miss Pierce, I didn't mean to offend you. I just meant, doesn't the caffeine keep you awake?"

She took another sip as she attempted to regain her composure. Though he might have been thinking of caffeine, her mind had been on his lecture. Recalling his earlier words that guilt left unattended could cause stress and sleepless nights had been the first thought to run through her mind at his question. He probably thought she was some sort of nut from her snapped answer—a nut with a guilty conscience.

"No, you didn't offend me. I mean, it's okay—the coffee—I switch to decaf at night, so no worries," Abby managed to answer, hoping that she sounded calm, cool and collected even though she felt like a complete idiot inside. Dean nodded and led her away from the counter. Sipping her coffee, she tried to appear as if nothing were capable of bothering her.

Dean watched her closely, the grin still on his lips. Though she was making a pretty good attempt to appear unaffected by her evening, the blush on her cheeks, as well as the slight tremble of her hands as she held her cup, told him that her world was spinning. He couldn't imagine giving this woman such a gift and then not sharing the experience with her. Cost couldn't be the issue as the ticket covered a couple's admission. The only thing he could think of that made the least bit of sense was that Sam was already experienced with domestic discipline and felt it was only Abigail who needed the class. Even if that were the case, Sam should have taken the time and energy to make sure his partner understood what she was getting herself into. Knowing that Abby's world would soon be turned totally upside down when the review continued, he asked his next question. "Tell me, Abigail, did you grow up with domestic discipline, or is this all completely new to you?" Seeing her cheeks once more suffuse with color, he was charmed. He hadn't seen a grown woman blush as many times—or in quite so many attractive shades—during one conversation in a very long time, especially one who still had all her clothes on.

"I, um, well, while I really don't think that is any of your business, but I am not totally ignorant of discipline. My parents were very strict."

"And your husband?" Dean asked, without a shade of embarrassment at the personal question.

"Ex-husband. No, Nick never, perhaps…" her voice trailed off, almost as if she had forgotten he was there.

His eyes locked on hers
. Perhaps?
Perhaps she was deciding that the reason for this gift was that Sam was intending on introducing domestic discipline into their relationship. He waited for her to continue, to explain her rather cryptic answer. Her silence told of her choice to keep him in the dark, but before she looked away, he had seen her eyes fill with an emotion that appeared to be sad, as well as confused. His desire to know far more about Abigail Pierce grew with every moment he spent in her presence.

"Good to know. I wouldn't want to totally shock you," he said softly and watched as she took another sip of coffee, as if fortifying herself before responding.

"No problem. As I said, I'm a big girl and can take care of myself. I have managed on my own for several years now. Believe me, it would take more than this, um… well, it is hard to shock me, that's all."

Her words 'big girl' caused him to grin. She certainly wasn't big—she was one of the smallest women he had ever met. Despite her size, he did give her credit in the 'big' department as he considered her bravery. "I'm glad to hear how very capable you are. However, time management might be something you need to work on, as well as proper preparation."

"Sorry to disappoint you. You don't have to worry about me; I'll be just fine. I don't need anyone to look after me, I can take care of myself," she said, her gentle look becoming a glare. Returning to her table, she sat down, unaware that Dean's eyes had never drifted from the sway of her hips as she walked across the room. Trying to decide whether to stay for the remainder of the review or leave, she swallowed another sip of coffee. Despite the words she had just spoken, she admitted to herself that she wasn't fine; in fact, she was a bit shocked. It wasn't only the subject that had her head spinning; it was the fact that every time she looked at Dean, she felt quivers in her tummy, as well as in parts a bit further south.

Just as she decided to retake control of her life and leave, she stood up only to see Dean returning to the front of the class. Afraid that if she looked to the front, she'd see that annoying self-satisfied smile plastered on his face, she lost her courage. Sitting back down, she pulled her book closer and opened it. Despite her initial shock, she found it was no longer necessary to pretend to be engrossed in the book—the subject matter was causing her to wonder about things she had never really considered before.