His Perfect Submissive Read online

  As he thought about the situation with Kara and her brother an idea began to form. He could use Ted to force her to marry him. He was almost certain she would agree to marriage, even one that seemed strange to her, if it meant her brother wouldn't face the threat of prosecution.

  He sighed as the plan formed in his mind. He would offer to forgive her brother's theft and not turn over the evidence he held against him if she agreed to marry him. He would make forgiveness of the money dependent on her staying married to him for one year and on Ted getting treatment for his gambling addiction.

  He needed the year to show Kara that a relationship based on his control and her willing surrender was what she wanted too. He wanted her brother to get help with his gambling problem. The last thing he needed was for him to get in more trouble with the law. He knew that if Ted continued on the same course, at some point neither he nor Kara would be able to drag him out of trouble. He wouldn't stand by doing nothing and see Kara hurt again.

  He didn't feel particularly good about using the situation with her brother to force her into a marriage she wasn't ready for, but he believed that in the end the marriage would be good for everyone concerned. He would have Kara in his life and eventually in his bed. She would be protected from her brother and would be well loved and cared for. Ted would escape prison and be forced to get the help he needed. All in all it wasn't a bad solution to the mess that had been dropped in his lap.

  The big question looming in his mind was how Kara would react to his proposal. He knew she was inexperienced with men and he expected her inexperience to give her serious misgivings, especially considering he was almost a stranger. He knew too that if he were to be fair to her he would have to explain that their relationship would be based on dominance and submission.

  * * * *

  She picked up the phone on the second ring, swallowing a mouth full of hot coffee before she muttered hello.

  "Kara?"

  "Yes.” She put her mug on the counter as her mind scrambled to place the voice on the other end of the line. The deep voice was familiar, yet she couldn't immediately place it.

  "This is Slade Westin. I hope I'm not waking you."

  "No, Mr. Westin. I'm awake. I have to get up early for work.” She hadn't expected him to call quite so soon and now that he had, she didn't know whether to be glad to hear from him or worried. His voice gave her no clue as to what his call meant for her brother.

  "Good, I'm glad I didn't wake you.” She thought she detected a smile in his deep throaty voice and felt a tendril of relief wash through her. “I think I have a solution that will be acceptable to both of us."

  "You do? Really? That's wonderful.” She felt truly happy for the first time in the weeks since her brother had told her about the trouble he was in. “What is it?"

  "It's rather—involved. I'd rather go over it with you in person. Can you meet me at my office this morning?"

  Kara glanced at her watch. “I think so, but I'm supposed to be at work this morning and I'll have to call and get someone to cover for me."

  "No, don't go to the trouble. Can you get away for lunch?"

  "I usually get lunch at eleven-thirty."

  "That works.” His voice carried a hint of mastery, as if he'd set out on a mission and had accomplished it. She realized taking charge of situations was probably something he did all the time. She knew most people didn't get to the top of their professions by taking a back seat, letting others make decisions for them.

  She didn't mind that he seemed comfortable taking control. In fact, she liked it. It was nice to not have to make the decisions and chart the course for everyone else for a change.

  "I'll take you to lunch and we can talk,” he said.

  "Thank you—for everything, Mr. Westin.” She let her voice trail off conveying the smile she felt.

  "You're welcome Kara. I hope you feel the same after we've talked.” His voice carried a certain softness she hadn't sensed in it before. “Now, where do you work?"

  She gave him the name of the vet clinic and directions. He told her he was familiar with the area and that he'd be there by eleven thirty.

  Kara spent the morning wondering what sort of solution Slade had come up with and hoping that it was a workable one. But then, she knew she'd do anything to keep her baby brother out of jail.

  Kara was busy holding a cat for a blood draw when she heard the chime that announced that someone had entered the clinic. She recognized Slade's deep rich voice as he asked for her at the reception desk. She heard the receptionist tell him she was with a patient, and that she'd be with him in a minute.

  Her heart kicked up a notch. Her stomach felt queasy with pent up nerves.

  The vet finished drawing blood and Kara returned the angry cat to its carrier before heading for the waiting room.

  "Sorry to keep you waiting. Things are always busy and unpredictable around here.” He stood near the bulletin board with his hands in his pockets, looking as if he belonged in the office.

  "Interested in a kitty?” she asked noticing that he was looking at the free cat to good home flyer tacked to the bulletin board.

  He shrugged broad shoulders. “I like cats, but I'm not exactly jumping over myself to get one,” He quirked a smile, “although I don't doubt that I could be talked into it if the right person was doing the talking."

  Is he flirting with me? She wondered. She felt off balance by the prospect. She never flirted, didn't even know how really. What had happened when she was seven had made her distrustful and uneasy around men and she avoided them as much as she could.

  If she hadn't needed Slade's help with her brother's situation she wouldn't have agreed to see him. She was going to lunch with him only because they needed to talk about Ted and resolving his mess.

  "We've got a couple nice cats in the back that are looking for homes,” she offered. She felt completely confused. She wasn't sure if he had been flirting, and if he had been, she didn't know what she should do about it.” Maybe someday,” he allowed. Where would you like to go for lunch?"

  "There's a nice sandwich shop around the corner from here. They have good soups too. Otherwise it's pretty much fast food alley."

  "The sandwich shop sounds fine. You direct and I'll drive."

  Once they were seated in the comfortable gray leather seats of his Cadillac Escalade she gave him directions to the nearby sandwich shop.

  "So, what's your plan?” she asked as soon as he had maneuvered the Big SUV onto the road.

  "Patience Kara,” he smiled. “I'll tell you everything in good time."

  She shrugged and fell silent. He sensed the distance immediately. He'd hurt her feelings, made her uncomfortable, he realized. “So, what do you do at the vet clinic, besides try to give away cats?” he teased, trying to smooth over the hurt feelings.

  "I'm a vet tech,” she answered softly as he turned into the parking lot and found a parking space near the front of the restaurant.

  God she's shy and skittish. She'll never agree to this, he thought.

  "Do you like being a vet tech?"

  She smiled glancing down at her hands. “I love animals so it's almost a perfect job for me."

  "Almost?"

  "The times when we lose a patient or have to put one to sleep are hard. I hate that part of it."

  "What about the cats you have at the office. Will you have to put them to sleep if you don't find homes for them?” he asked. No wonder she's trying to give cats away, he thought, already contemplating taking the cats to keep them from having to be put to sleep, and more honestly, to spare Kara from that part of her job.

  "No, we work with a couple no kill shelters in the area. If we can't find homes for them we can place them with a shelter."

  "That sounds like a good solution."

  He turned off the ignition and took the keys. Their conversation was forgotten as they climbed out of the SUV.

  Kara got out quickly, not waiting for him to come around and open her door. He
waited for her at the front of his vehicle and held the restaurant door open for her.

  They stood at the counter, reading the overhead menu. “What do you recommend?” he asked.

  "The turkey melt on rye is my favorite, but the pastrami is also very good."

  Once they had given their order and found a seat in a quiet corner Slade slipped into the role of negotiator. It was a role he played often and one he was good at.

  "I suppose you're dying to know the particulars of the plan I've come up with.” He offered her what he hoped was a disarming smile.

  She nodded, taking a sip of her drink.

  "Well, it's unconventional but it meets my needs and,” he drew in a deep breath, “I think it meets yours too."

  Kara nodded, and a strand of dark hair fell over her shoulder. Her dark eyes were fixed on his. She looked fragile, practically swallowed by the navy blue surgical scrub pants and top she wore.

  "I don't like the idea of you borrowing against your credit cards and your 401k. It's not sound financially. It would put you in debt and you told me last time we met that you've already had a hard time financially. It's also not fair to you. Your brother should pay back the money he stole. But, even if I did agree to it, it would only take care of half the problem. You'd still have monthly payments on the balance. With payments on the 401k loan and the credit cards and payments to me I'm afraid it would only make it difficult for you. It's not an acceptable solution."

  "Mr. Westin, things have been hard because of my mom's medicines, they cost a lot. But I assure you that I will pay you. I'll get another job if that's what it takes. I'll do what I need to in order to keep my brother out of jail."

  "Your brother should be the one who pays the money back. I know you think it's a good thing to help him out, but rescuing him isn't teaching him anything. It's allowing him to continue his behavior. Even if I was willing to take payments from Ted, payments and interest on thirty thousand would be pushing it for him, especially now that he doesn't have a job."

  The look on her face told him that her brother's unemployed status was news to her. But he plunged on. “I've decided to forget about the money, but there are a couple conditions."

  "Oh Mr. Westin that's wonderful, but it doesn't seem fair to you.” She was looking at him, her deep brown eyes shadowed with regret.

  "I'm happy with the solution,” he assured.

  "Well—what are the conditions?” she asked hesitantly.

  "First, that you stay out of my way and let me deal with your brother on my own terms. He won't get around me as easily as he does you. Second, your brother goes to regular gambler's anonymous meetings. And third, you marry me."

  Kara shook her head as if she wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly. “What?"

  He covered her small hand with his much larger one, ignoring her attempt to pull away. He rubbed the soft skin where her thumb joined her palm. “You heard me correctly. I want you to marry me, Kara. It's the price for forgiving your brother's theft and for not turning it over to the authorities."

  "You're serious?"

  "Yes, Kara. I'm serious. If you agree to marry me and your brother agrees to treatment for his gambling I'll rehire him into a position where he can't get his hands on any money.

  He'll be getting the help he needs, avoid jail, and have a job. You won't be trying to pull everything together by yourself anymore. I'll take care of you. I won't be alone and that'll make me happy."

  "Why? I don't understand."

  "I like you, Kara. You have an aura of sweetness and innocence that lights my fire."

  "Mr. Westin!” she hissed. The way she looked around to see if anyone else had overheard and the pink that tinged her cheeks made him smile.

  "Call me Slade, Kara."

  "Slade then.” He heard her deeply inhaled breath. “I don't understand what you'd get out of this. I'm fat, I'm not rich, and I'm afraid I don't know what to do with a fire once it's lighted. I-uhm, I've never—uhm."

  She blushed a deeper red and looked at the table as if she was thinking about crawling under it.

  "You're not fat. You're beautifully proportioned, besides I like my women to have something to hold onto.” He let his eyes wander, taking in the smoothness of her skin, the squared shoulders, and the soft rise of her breasts, barely discernable beneath the scrub top she wore. I don't care that you're not wealthy. And I know you've never been with a man.” He caressed her hand again, “I knew when I looked up from the messages and saw you standing there in my office yesterday."

  "You did?” Her voice was tinged with horror. “Is it that obvious?"

  "Not to everyone probably, but it was to me.” He let his eyes caress her, wishing he could pass some of the certainty he felt about the marriage on to her. “Don't worry Kara, I'll teach you everything you need to know about tamping my fires."

  "It's—uhm—it's not just not knowing—uhm—what to do."

  Given the way she was hemming and hawing and the bright red of her cheeks, he figured she was glad to be saved from further explanation by the arrival of their sandwiches. He waited for the waitress to leave before continuing.

  He left his sandwich untouched and plunged on. “There are a few things you need to know about me before you make your decision."

  He watched the uncertainty that flitted across her face as he searched for the right words to describe what he wanted.

  "I know it's not politically correct, but what I want is an old fashioned marriage, one in which I take the lead.

  "It's important that you understand that if you agree to become my wife our marriage will be built on my control and your submission to my authority. That doesn't mean I won't discuss things or that I won't take your opinions into account, but it does mean I'll make the final decisions.

  "I've dated spoiled, obstinate women in the past and there's no room in my life for that. I won't do daily battle with my wife about who is going to make which decisions, nor will I put up with sullenness and temper tantrums. I'm laying it out from the beginning. I wear the pants and I make the decisions."

  He watched her face; unable to tell what she was thinking from the closed expression she wore. He continued on, taking it as a positive sign that she hadn't gotten up and walked out.

  "One of the reasons I think it could be good between us is that you don't seem willful or spoiled. You seem submissive and I like that. A lot. But even so, I don't want there to be any misunderstanding later. If you were to marry me and behave like some of the women I've dated,” he sighed, “you probably wouldn't like the outcome much."

  She shifted uneasily in her seat and avoided his gaze. “Exactly what do you mean, by that?” she asked, her attention focused on the straw wrapper she was twisting into a tight coil.

  "I know it's not politically correct but what I mean is that if the situation warranted it I would use physical discipline, like spanking or bondage, to keep you in line. I won't put up with a spoiled wife."

  He watched her abuse of the straw wrapper intensify. “You don't need to be afraid of me. I'm not a crazy and I'm not into abuse. I would never physically injure you, but I am capable and would not hesitate to put limits on undesirable behavior."

  He searched her pale face, wondering if his honesty had scared her away. From her death grip on the straw wrapper and the tight line of her jaw as she fixed her gaze on the table, he figured he was pretty close. Much as he would have preferred to stick to white picket fences and rose gardens, his own sense of decency had required him to be upfront and honest with her about his expectations for their marriage.

  "If you agree to become my wife I'd expect you to quit your job. I'd want you to be able to devote your time and energy to taking care of our home and me."

  "I couldn't just quit my job, even if I wanted to. I pay part of my mother's medical expenses, and if I didn't she'd have to do without some of her medicines, and she can't do that. I can't quit my job even to save my brother, Mr. Westin.” She bowed her head and he sensed her def
eat in the sudden droop of her shoulders. “I'm sorry."

  "Kara,” he dropped his hands over hers. “I wouldn't expect you to quit your job and leave your mom in the lurch or do without yourself. If you were my wife I'd take care of you and that would include taking care of your mother's medical expenses. God knows I have enough money. You wouldn't want for much. Neither would your mother."

  "It sounds like you'd be getting the bad end of the stick on this whole arrangement,” she said. He watched as she shifted in her seat and raised her gaze, pinning him, her expression watchful as she continued. “You're suggesting all this because my brother stole money from you, but you're not going to recover any of the money and in fact you're going to spend even more money taking care of me and my mother. From a financial standpoint it doesn't make any sense Mr. Westin."

  "Slade,” he corrected. “It makes perfect sense Kara. I have simple needs. I've already told you, I want an old fashioned marriage and an obedient and submissive wife. I want an enthusiastic partner in my bed and someone to explore sexually with me. Truthfully, I'm tired of being alone, and I'm willing to turn loose of some money to get the kind of wife and marriage I want. There isn't anything shady or behind the scenes going on. I've told you what I want and relinquishing some money to get it makes perfect sense."

  Kara stared at him, unseeing, her blood cold, her sandwich forgotten in front of her. She opened her mouth to speak several times but closed it again without having uttered a single sound.

  "You don't need to be afraid of me or of marrying me. I know you are inexperienced and I'll be patient with you. I'm not selfish Kara. I've been around the block and I know how to make a woman feel good in bed."

  "Slade,” the single word squeaked out after a false start. Her stomach churned and her brain raced through everything he'd just said. She felt as if her emotions had been stripped bare and left ragged. She knew that all the patience he could muster wouldn't be enough.

  "Yes Kara,” his voice was gentle, prompting.

  The idea of agreeing to surrender herself to him was overwhelming. He'd said she didn't need to be afraid of him that he'd be patient but he didn't know she was damaged.