To Command And Collar

Galen’s eyes turned to her, but he didn’t say anything.

“I’ll have to go,” she whispered.

Master R growled something foul in Spanish. “No. No, you will not do this. You’ve done enough. No mas.”

If he really loses his temper, will he shift completely to Spanish?

Why couldn’t she think of anything to say in any language? Needing not to think, Kim stared at the ground. An ant was trying to drag a fragment of chip to its home. The piece was too big, but it tugged and tugged. So stubborn.

Sam broke the silence. “Galen, I think this would destroy the girl.” His pale eyes were cold as ice, but he gave Kim a small smile. “I’m rather fond of this one, even if she does reduce Raoul to swearing in Spanish.”

“I don’t understand why Dahmer’s so adamant about Sandoval doing this demo,” Vance muttered.

Galen didn’t speak.

“No.” Master R said, although no one had asked anything. “Dan, you know how often something goes wrong. I will risk my life. Not Kimberly’s-or her freedom or her well-being. Would you take Kari to such a thing?”

Dan’s hand opened, conceding him the point.

An auction, filled with slavers, filled with women being sold. I’ll never escape, will I? Kim leaned her forehead against Master R’s thigh. Everything in her was struggling, drowning in fear, sinking. Deep in the ocean, colors would fade away until everything turned gray. Turned cold. Like death.

I can’t. But could she sleep at night, live with herself if her absence meant a woman would get bought by another Lord Greville? She lifted her head; it felt too heavy to support.

Master R looked directly across the table. “Z?”

Z had a low voice, as smooth as Master R’s, but without the spine-tingling accent. “No, Raoul, I wouldn’t agree.” His arms tightened around Jessica, and his brows drew together. “But I’ve discovered some foolhardy submissives have steel spines.”

Raoul remembered too well how Gabi had forced the FBI agents to let her work undercover, trying to catch the slavers. Although Kimberly might be terrified, she was no less brave than her friend. But surely she wouldn’t push to do this.

Rising onto her knees, she twisted around to face him, her hands on his thighs. Her wide blue eyes could pretzel a man’s heart. “Gatita, no.”

She swallowed. “Sam called me brave. It’s not brave to hide, knowing that if you do, other women will suffer. Might die.” Her lips trembled. “Linda will be at the auction. When she’s sold, she might never get free.” Her cold hands tightened on his legs.

Raoul shook his head. “No.” When her lips pressed together, he shook her. He didn’t care if every slave in the world died. She wouldn’t-couldn’t do this. “No.”

Her arms closed around herself at the loss of his support, and he grunted and pulled her onto his lap. He’d worked all his life to be strong and powerful so he could guard the ones he loved-yet he couldn’t keep this little bit of female safe?

She buried her face in his neck. “We must,” she whispered.

Kouros cleared his throat. Raoul would have punched him if he hadn’t seen the pain in the man’s eyes. The agent didn’t want to ask this either, but he would, just like he’d allowed Gabi to go undercover in the Shadowlands.

Raoul held Kimberly against his chest, wanting only to shelter her. But he remembered what his mother had said when he’d tried to keep his younger sister, Lucia, from going to the mall…starting to date…driving a car. You can’t protect her against her will, Raoul. It’s her life; you don’t own her. He didn’t own Kimberly.

“Gatita mia, are you sure?” he whispered.

“Yes.” Shivers ran through her soft body.

“You still there, Raoul?” Dahmer’s voice came from the phone.

Kouros looked as if he wanted to kill something. But he nodded.

Raoul pushed the Mute button. “I’m here. If I move some appointments, I can attend,” Raoul said, unable to manage a friendly tone. “I hope you make it worth the inconvenience.”

“Oh, you’ll be pleased. You have my word.” Dahmer chuckled. “So I’ll be in contact sometime on Saturday night.”

“Until then.” Raoul snapped the phone shut, barely managing to keep from throwing it across the patio.

* * * *

Kimberly was very quiet that evening, pulling away from him as if she couldn’t bear to be close. Yet when she moved away, she’d watch as if afraid she’d lose him. He finally took her to the tower room to see the stars appear in the darkness of the sky.

“I’m sorry, sumisita. This was not how it should have gone,” he murmured into her hair. Dread had lodged in his bones, yet he wanted nothing more than to sit here with her in his arms. Soft and fragrant and warm, and appallingly brave.

“It’s not your fault. Sorry I’m being weird.” She rubbed her cheek on his shirt. “I keep remembering how helpless I felt. How trapped. I wish Saturday came faster. Can you keep me busy tomorrow?”

“I can, yes.”

Her eyes started to drift shut. “I hope Gabi comes over tomorrow. Some noise would be good. She’s like a one-woman party.”

A party. As he held his little sumisa, Raoul considered possibilities. At the auction, Kimberly might have to endure another public demonstration. If she felt more comfortable with being exhibited, her concentration might stay on him, not on the slavers.

A party would be a good idea.

Chapter Thirteen

Raoul strolled out to the kitchen, carrying a bunch of beach towels, and spotted Kimberly looking at the filled ice chest, arms crossed over her naked breasts.

She scowled. “Did you forget to tell me something? Are we going somewhere?”

“Kimberly.”

“What?”

He kept his gaze on her, waiting her out.

Silence. “I’m sorry, Master,” she muttered after far too long.

“Do you feel in need of being punished then?” he asked softly.

A step back. “No. No, Master.”

Did she have any idea why she was coming across with the attitude? His pity for her made him want to ignore it, but she needed consistency and rules more than sympathy right now. Since nothing else in her world remained stable, he must. He moved into her personal space, not touching, letting the size of his body add to the intimidation. “Then perhaps you would explain?”

“I-” Her fingers tightened on her mug. “I… It’s wrong. Those monsters buy women to be slaves, and here I am, volunteering to be your slave. But I’m not really, and I don’t want to behave like one.” Her chin jerked higher…and then her gaze dropped. “Only, then sometimes I do.”

Most of the time, you do, little sumisa. He cupped her cheek, and his thumb under her chin kept her face raised to him. The shiver running through her at his care and his control reinforced her words. She was in conflict, and he knew the feeling well, especially when it came to her. “Any decent human, master or slave, is revolted at kidnapping and brutality and rape.” He rubbed his thumb over her soft lips. “Aside from the fact that the slavers’ crimes brought us together and into these roles, they have nothing to do with what is between us.”