His Perfect Submissive Page 5

  "It's fine,” Kara answered, sliding into the booth while Slade sat down opposite her.

  Kara's gaze was drawn to the collection of miniature teapots on the shelf above their table. The teapots were some kind of china. Each piece had a detailed flower motif painted on its side and a narrow band of gold along the top. The craftsmanship was detailed, making her want to look at the pieces more closely.

  When her attention drifted back to Slade his gaze was resting on her. His expression was relaxed, almost indulgent. “How's your head?” he asked.

  "Much better,” she sighed.

  Their attention was drawn to the waitress, an older woman wearing a paisley dress who trudged out of the back carrying menus and water.

  She recited the daily specials and left them to look over the menus. “What sounds good?” Slade asked after a few minutes spent studying the menu.

  "Everything sounds good. I'm starving.” Kara smiled; surprised by how easy the words came to her now that she was no longer afraid.

  "I'm going back and forth between the steak and the turkey Manhattan. But I think I'm going to have the turkey. It's hard to beat mashed potatoes and gravy for comfort food."

  "You're probably right, but I'm going for the steak,” Slade responded with a lopsided smile.

  Kara leaned back against the booth, feeling relaxed and comfortable. Mellow. She watched; fascinated by Slade's hands as he folded his menu and slid it toward the center of the table, where he placed it atop hers.

  He had nice hands, large palms, with long fingers and just a smattering of dark hairs on the backs of his hands and around his knuckles. She remembered the way his large calloused hand had engulfed hers and the tender way his thumb had caressed her hand during their wedding. She still didn't understand why the simple touch had imparted comfort. She wondered if he'd known how close she was to passing out, and if he'd intended his caress to give her reassurance.

  She looked up to find his gaze resting on her; his intense blue gray eyes seemed to take a quiet analytical inventory. He opened his mouth as if to speak but the waitress bustled through the swinging doors that separated the dining room from the kitchen at just that moment leaving whatever he'd been about to say unsaid.

  Kara relaxed and enjoyed the deep timber of his voice and the slight edge of buried humor that stroked and soothed her as he chatted with the waitress about the weather and their shared hope that the coming winter would be a mild one.

  He ordered for both of them, sending a smile in Kara's direction as he ordered her a turkey Manhattan and a Mountain Dew with lots of ice.

  When the waitress left Slade slid his hands across the table, capturing both of Kara's hands in his. She looked up, making no effort to free her hands as it hit her that she was beginning to like him. A lot.

  She thought back over the brief time she'd known him and wondered about him, how he'd come to own the company her brother had worked for. “Are the paintings at your office the buildings you've built?” Kara asked, wanting to know more about him.

  "Yes, they are.” He smiled at her. His smile was slow and lazy, almost an invitation to ask more questions.

  "They all seemed to have sections with a lot of glass. They seem—different. They're not typical run of the mill boxy skyscrapers."

  He smiled squeezing her hands. “It's my philosophy that people function better when they can see the outdoors. As a consequence most of the buildings I've worked on in the past five years have had a lot of glasswork and a lot of plants in courtyards and things, as a central part of the design."

  Kara relaxed, enjoying the warmth of his hands on hers and the twinge of pride not quite buried in his deep voice.

  "What about the heart center you were working on when you were making the wedding arrangements? Does it have the glasswork too?"

  "The heart center.” He sighed deeply. “Now that was the project from hell.” He squeezed her hands and smiled. “I really am sorry about that, Kara."

  "Sorry—for what?” she asked feeling as if she'd missed some vital piece of the conversation.

  "For not being there, for starters.” He sighed, his thumb caressing her hand. “When I asked you to marry me I had every intention of wining and dining you. I planned on us spending some time together and getting to know each other before today.” He sighed, his gray blue gaze meeting hers. “I know today was rough for you and it might not have been if we'd had some time together the past couple weeks."

  Warmth settled in her middle. It made her feel good to know that he had wanted to take her out and get to know her, that his desire was not just to possess her sexually.

  "My good intentions sure went to hell in a hurry."

  "What happened?” she asked.

  "Issues,” His lips twitched into the lopsided smile that was beginning to feel familiar to her. “Are you sure you care about this? It can't be very interesting."

  She shrugged. “I'm curious about your work."

  "Well, the condensed version is that everything that could go wrong with the project went wrong. We had weather delays. Then the bricklayers were on strike. We had trouble getting materials because of the tornados in the south. Then the project manager got into trouble and had to be fired. The man who replaced him had a heart attack."

  "Ted was the one who had to be fired?"

  He nodded, just one short bob of his head.

  The knowledge that her brother's theft had made a bad situation worse for him was like a kick to her midsection.

  He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

  "There is always some wiggle room built into a contract but there were so many problems with this one, that it made pretty clean work of the wiggle room. To make matters worse, there was a late completion clause in the contract."

  "What's—a late completion clause?” Kara asked.

  "It's part of a contract that specifies charges to a construction company if they don't finish a project on time. In this case the charge was a hundred thousand dollars a day."

  A hundred thousand a day. Ten days—a million dollars. “God, Slade,” her eyes flew to his. “Did you get it finished on time?"

  "We were a couple days late."

  He smiled at the expression as her eyes widened and her mouth gaped.

  "It was still a profitable project.” He winked as if he was letting her in on a secret. “We ended up okay financially, but I imagine you can see why I had to work—and why I didn't take you out."

  "I do understand,” she said softly, thinking back to the times he'd called to ask what colors she wanted for the wedding, what kind of cake, what kind of flowers. She hadn't understood at the time how busy he had been. At the time she'd been mildly irritated that he was acting as if their marriage was something she wanted, when he had forced her capitulation.

  He smiled, drawing circles on the tender skin of her wrist with his thumb. “You didn't miss much. I wouldn't have been very good company. I was feeling pretty—stressed."

  "I'm surprised you even talked to me after what Ted did and the extra problems it caused,” she said feeling the familiar kick of guilt.

  "To be honest, I wasn't looking forward to it, when my secretary said you were waiting for me.” He sighed. “Then I actually saw you and I didn't mind so much.” His smile was gentle and reflective, and softened his jaw and the area around his eyes. “I still didn't plan to let Ted off. But then I couldn't get you out of my system,” He looked down at where their hands were joined on the table. “And as they say, the rest is history."

  He watched the shy dip of her head, wondering how this strong, intelligent, beautiful woman had managed to evade other men for all of her twenty-seven years. He wondered too why she was so painfully shy about some things and so matter-of-fact about others.

  "Here comes our food,” Kara said as the waitress backed through the swinging doors carrying an armload of plates.

  Slade reluctantly released her hands as the waitress neared the table. He'd enjoyed the simple conversation about
his work more than he could remember enjoying any of the conversations he'd had with Susan or any of the dates that had come after her.

  He knew if he had told Susan or any of the other women he'd dated about the difficulties with the project they would have either dozed off in boredom or immediately begun calculating how much he must be worth to be able to afford to have hundred thousand dollar a day late completion clauses in his contracts.

  With Kara it was different. There had been an aura of concern as her gaze had flown to his and she'd asked if he'd finished on time. He didn't think it had even dawned on her that her financial life was now tied to his. He didn't think she even realized that his gain, and it had been a substantial one even with the late completion charges, was her gain too.

  He watched her as she cut into her turkey and swirled it through the mashed potatoes and gravy before carrying a fork full to her mouth. He was fascinated, his attention held by the simplest movements as she trailed turkey through gravy. He was captivated by the velvet softness of dark brown eyes that for the moment avoided his. His eyes rested on the dainty hands enjoying the glint of the diamond that glimmered from her ring finger catching the light as she moved.

  He cut into his steak, freeing juices that ran onto his plate. He'd wanted her from the moment he'd laid eyes on her that first day at the office when his awareness of her had edged over into hunger.

  He speared a piece of steak and allowed his thoughts to drift to the day he'd proposed. He'd been out to acquire her then; the way people acquired other things they wanted. He hadn't seen her then, not really, not completely, not as a real person. He'd seen instead a vision of what he'd wanted her to be. He'd been immediately aware of the submissive quality and the innocence that clung to her and he'd glimpsed in her a depth of loyalty toward her brother and her mother that made him want the same kind of loyalty for himself.

  He had been smitten, overwhelmed with the desire to have someone who shared his desire for the softer more romantic side of dominance and submission. Even when she'd been hesitant and seemed to not know the first thing about D/s, he'd seen only the loyal, obedient, submissive wife he imagined she could be and he'd forced her into marriage.

  The selfishness with which he'd approached her had hit him full in the face that afternoon. He remembered her standing next to him, fragile, pale, and trembling. The misery etched on her face when she'd muttered that she was going to be sick reminded him that he had hurt her.

  He speared a piece of steak and carried it to his mouth. His guilt wouldn't do anyone any good. What he needed to do was make things right with Kara. He needed to reel himself in and focus on giving her time and space and gentle dominance so she could discover what he already knew, that she could be happy with him.

  He watched as she speared another piece of turkey and swirled it through the mashed potatoes and gravy. It stunned him that as much as he'd bullied her and as selfish as he'd been, she still felt anything positive toward him.

  She glanced up from her plate and caught his eyes resting on her. His expression was relaxed and intimate, like a gentle touch. It made her feel toasty and a little tipsy, sort of like the feeling she got at New Years when she drank champagne.

  She smiled self-consciously and glanced away from the intensity of his gaze.

  "I know I've told you what I want from marriage, but I never slowed down enough to ask what you want. I'm sorry I didn't ask sooner.” He cast her a half smile, just a twitch of his lips, and a softening of his features. “Are there things you want to be part of our marriage?"

  She nearly choked on her turkey and had to take a drink of her Mountain Dew to wash it all down.

  "I've never really thought about it,” she said when she recovered. “I never planned to marry."

  The words reminded her how hopeless their marriage was and how dishonest she had been in not telling him about her past. She sucked in a deep breath and let it out again. Slade had managed to touch some sensual part of her without waking the demons inside her, but she couldn't imagine she'd feel anything but claustrophobic desperation when his weight was on top of her pushing her into the bed.

  "Even so, you are married. There must be things you want from marriage,” he coaxed, drawing her mind back to the conversation. “I can't make you happy if I don't know what you want or what you need."

  She looked across the table feeling lost in the question and in his unflinchingly steady gaze. The earnestness in his words and in his gaze made her believe he did want her to be happy.

  She struggled with what she needed, what she wanted and whether she wanted any part of the marriage at all.

  She'd been forced into it in the first place. She never would have chosen to marry at all if it hadn't been the only way to keep her brother out of jail. Yet, now that she was married ... she couldn't envision enjoying sex, with anyone, and yet she liked Slade.

  She dipped her head, shying away from the power of his gaze and then stealing a glance at him as she started to speak. “Trust isn't easy for me,” she said in a small voice.

  Slade nodded.

  "I need to be able to trust you Slade.” Her voice sounded pleading and she hated the weakness in it, the beseeching quality.

  "You can Kara. Always."

  She sighed.

  "What else do you need? Kara?” His voice was soft, a whisper of sensation that affected her almost like a touch. Her tummy tightened as if he had touched her.

  She glanced at her hands knotted against the Formica table. “I would like to—” she swallowed hard and blinked back tears that rose in her eyes, hating the fact that she felt teary all of a sudden.

  She looked at him through the glimmer of unshed tears and read in his expression only an honest desire to understand what she wanted. “I would like to feel at least cared for.” The admission left her feeling cold and alone, as if she was begging for scraps of affection that she was not entitled to. “I know that wasn't part of our agreement but—the idea of having—of—” She sucked in a deep breath and closed her eyes fighting the tide of embarrassment that washed over her.

  "The idea of making love with me—I get that part of it—now go on—"

  She opened her eyes feeling utterly embarrassed. His knowing smile loosed a tingle of awareness that shot through her making her feel cared for and protected in spite of her embarrassment.

  "The idea of doing—that—without you at least liking me a little bit makes me feel—really empty."

  "Kara,” he said in a deep husky voice, “I'm not going to lie to you and tell you I'm head over heels madly in love with you. I'm not. Yet.” He reached across the table and took her hand in his. His gaze met and held hers, solid, unwavering.

  He stroked her hand absently. “Someday when I do tell you that I love you I want it to mean something and it won't if I throw the word around now."

  He sighed.

  Her stomach did summersaults. Did he mean that he thought he could fall in love with her someday? Her mind raced as she tried to sort out her own feelings. She liked him, but did she want him to love her? Did she want to love him?

  She felt dizzy as she thought about loving and being loved. She'd never even let herself think about those subjects before because she'd always known those possibilities were out of her reach. What was it about Slade that made her want to allow a sliver of hope?

  Slade stroked the soft skin on the underside of her wrist and she raised her gaze to meet the frank candor that stared back at her. “When you came into my office to plead your brother's case I hadn't wanted a woman in over three years. I really thought that part of me was dead.” He squeezed her hand.

  "I've done my share of playing around the edges of bdsm and dominance and submission and there are certain feelings that go with that kind of play, but what I feel for you is different. I didn't marry you just to play sex games with you Kara. You're too special for that. What I feel goes deeper than just liking you."

  Her chest felt tight and full. She was dumfounded. Her e
motions felt scattered and she didn't know what to say. She wondered why he had sworn off women but bit down on her lip, afraid to ask. “I like you too. A lot.” She smiled shyly. “I wouldn't have married you if I didn't have to, because—,” she drew a breath so deep she ached, “—because of some things that happened a long time ago—but now that we are married I really want it to be good between us."

  He smiled, a gentle softening of his features that made Kara feel melted inside. “I'm glad you want it to be good. I'll do my best to see that it is."

  She glanced up, feeling hopeful and optimistic about their marriage and less worried about their wedding night than she had before. She was beginning to hope that she would be able to be intimate with Slade without the ugly memories resurfacing.

  The waitress walked toward them snaring her attention. “Did you two save room for dessert?” the waitress asked as she stopped near their table.

  "No, not me,” Kara answered with a smile.

  "What do you have?” Slade asked, giving the waitress a smile that said he was willing to let her tempt him.

  "We have peach, cherry, and apple pie, chocolate cake, strawberry shortcake, ice cream—"

  "Strawberry shortcake sounds good."

  "Strawberry shortcake it is then,” the waitress said moving away from the table.

  "Share with me Kara?” Slade asked.

  The request startled her. She'd never shared a dessert with anyone before. The idea of sharing with him, eating from the same bowl, their spoons touching, felt intimate.

  "Okay, but just a little."

  Slade studied her. She looked more relaxed and happy than he'd seen her look before. Her velvety soft brown eyes seemed to sparkle with life and her skin glowed with health. The peach undertones of her complexion complimented the soft waves of shiny dark brown hair that cascaded around her face. She seemed relaxed, not huddling in her oversized sweater as she'd done earlier in the day.

  He had been trying to gain her trust and ease her fears. He was pleased that she seemed to be softening toward him. The shy innocence still clung to her like a glove, but he liked it as long as it didn't stem from fear. “You look like you're feeling better,” he said after a moment.