Club Wicked 2: My Wicked Nanny (12 page)

“The nanny?”

“Yes, the woman who spends every day taking care of your
children. You know, the one your boys adore?”

He rolled his eyes and then glanced at the clock. Dove’s
shift wouldn’t end for another four hours. He had plenty of time to hang out
before he had to leave. Might be nice to have Anya join them. Though if his
mother was expecting a lively dinner companion, she’d be sorry. Anya was as
quiet as a mouse, and getting more than two sentences out of her at a time was
a struggle. It would be good to see if he could get her to open up. She was a bright
kid with a bright future.

“Mom, it’s a Friday night. I’m sure she’s out and about
doing whatever it is young people do.”

His mother laughed. “Oh yes, you are so old and wise at the
age of thirty-four. Did you get a senior citizens’ discount yet?” She turned to
face him, untying the green apron from her waist. “Jesse, you need to get out
more. You haven’t brought anyone home to meet me since Carol passed away.”

“Mom, leave it alone.”

“I can’t leave it alone. You’re my son. Besides, I’ve been
widowed twice in case you’ve forgotten. And each time I never thought I could
love again, but we aren’t meant to be alone. We all need somebody to love.”

He looked out the window at the back lawn. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am. Now call that pretty slip of a girl and
invite her over. At the very least she can neutralize some of Diane’s sour with
her sweet.”

“Good point. I’ll just walk over there. I could use the
fresh air, and I need to check on the horses. I don’t want her walking alone in
the dark either.”

“Good to see some of my efforts to instill manners in you
has paid off.”

He shook his head and walked to the mudroom, grabbing his
jacket off the hook before throwing it on and heading out. As he strolled
across the vast lawn separating the main house from the carriage house, he
wondered how his mom would have reacted if he told her a woman had managed to
open the door to his heart but he didn’t even know her real name. In fact, he
didn’t know anything about her other than she worked at Wicked.

That would change tonight. Somehow he was going to get some
information out of Dove; he didn’t care if it was only an e-mail address. He
wanted to know her, wanted to understand why he was so attracted to her. In a
weird way, it felt as if he knew her, but he sure as shit would have remembered
a woman with a body like that. The memory of her scent filled his nose, and he
closed his eyes and paused for a moment in the cold spring air. At that moment
it seemed like he could almost feel her. Anticipation coiled in his gut. He couldn’t
wait to get to Wicked. Maybe he should put a temporary collar on her, something
to let the other Doms know he was staking a claim.

The carriage house came into view, a light from inside
shining through the French doors, illuminating the patio. He ran his fingertips
over the smooth stone surface of the fountain and remembered how delighted
Carol had been when they’d found it at an antique auction. For a moment he
paused and closed his eyes, sending up a silent thank-you to heaven for their
time together.

The wind blew cold against his cheeks, and he pulled his
jacket tight. It was easy to forget how chilly spring nights could be. Eager to
be inside, he moved across the patio to the French doors and stopped dead in
his tracks. Hot, bitter bile filled his mouth as he stared at Anya’s sewing
room, at the glittering costumes on the mannequins, at the mask sitting on a
small table.

No. It couldn’t be possible.

The closer he got to the doors, the more apparent it became
that he had a huge problem.

There, displayed on mannequin forms beneath the recessed
lighting, were the costumes Dove had worn at Wicked. He stared in disbelief,
standing close enough to the glass that his breath fogged the surface. What
were Dove’s costumes doing here?

Maybe Anya was making the costumes for Dove.

Maybe they were friends.

Maybe he was full of shit and making up excuses for what had
been underneath his nose the whole time.

Yeah, two young blonde women who were of a similar height
just happened to know each other. He tried to imagine Anya without her baggy
clothing, tried to see past the puffy shape they gave her. His heart thudded in
his chest, and he couldn’t believe how fucking blind he’d been. True, his mind
was often on something other than the present, always thinking about the
technology they were developing at his company or the boys, but how could he
have missed this?

Maybe he was wrong.

Angry, confused, and feeling betrayed, he turned the handle
of the door and jerked it open. Walking past the costumes and rolls of fabric,
he went into the small living room looking for something. A pair of sneakers
were neatly placed next to the door, and he couldn’t help but notice how small
they were. Anya wasn’t very tall and her petite feet matched Dove’s. When he
spotted the picture of Anya with another girl on the mantel, he grabbed it,
staring at her face.

Anya’s hair was back like she usually wore it, and she had
her head tilted away from the camera, but he studied her profile and knew
without a doubt that his nanny was indeed Dove. The strength went out of his
legs. He slumped into the padded chair next to the fireplace, his mind
spinning. What the fuck was she doing?

How could she possibly have know Wicked even existed? It
wasn’t like he ever talked about the club with his family, so there was no way
she could have overheard him. Did she follow him to Wicked one night? Had she
gotten a job at Wicked with the intent to seduce him?

No, that wasn’t right. He thought back to their first meeting
and her odd reaction. She’d been shaking enough that the sheer fabric of her
costume rippled like water. Which drew his gaze to her breasts and then the
rest of her body. Fuck, by the time he’d looked up to study her face, half
covered by the mask currently sitting on the table in front of him, he’d
already been in lust. She’d been so resistant about being comforted, then had
melted against him.

At the time he’d written it off as another newbie sub being
freaked out by the scene, but now that he thought about it, she hadn’t been
staring at the room in horror.

She’d been staring at him in shock.

He groaned, then thumped his head against the back of the
chair. It also explained her reluctance the next night to be with him. It
wasn’t because she was scared of what he was going to do with her or that she
didn’t want him. She’d been trying to avoid him because she knew who he was.
And yet that didn’t stop her from following him, from being everything he’d
ever desired in a woman…a very young, inexperienced woman.

Double fuck.

He had no business being with her. She was just starting her
life, while he’d been there and done that. There was no way she’d want to
settle down with a man with two children. Not that he wanted her. Fuck, he was
so mad at her! How dare she play him like this, make him fall for her, make him
want a future with a woman who didn’t really exist. She was a liar and a
manipulator. In fact he should fire her as soon as she came home.

The instant he thought that, his heart constricted and regret
mixed with his anger. Standing, he carefully put the picture back on the mantel
and stared at her face. She was beautiful. Without the mask covering her
features, she looked like she’d be carded if she tried to buy cigarettes.
Beyond all the lies and deceit, he had no business messing with someone as
young and inexperienced as Anya.

Things began to click into place. All week she’d been
skittish and had talked even less than usual. Shit, that was another thing: her
voice. While Dove sounded like smoky sex, Anya had a pleasant but normal voice.
He couldn’t reconcile the oh-so-fucking sensual Dove with the reliable and
sweet Anya. For a brief moment he considered the fanciful notion that Anya had
a twin sister, but that lasted all of two seconds.

He should go right now and call Anya on her cell phone and
tell her the jig was up, but he couldn’t. She hadn’t really done anything to
hurt him; in fact, she’d given him some of the best nights he’d had in a long
time. Still, it would be very wrong to continue with the charade, to indulge
himself in her smooth, young body and her boundless passion.

Smacking his forehead with his hand, he tried to clear all
the sexual thoughts of Anya out of his mind, to look at it from an objective
angle. Maybe if he could earn her trust a little bit more, she’d open up to
him. Truth be told, he didn’t want to lose her, either as a submissive or the
boys’ nanny. Yeah, he had a replacement nanny lined up for when Anya left for
Paris, but that woman wouldn’t start for another month.

The thought of Anya heading overseas, leaving him behind
with only memories of their time together, firmed his resolve to get this mess
worked out as soon as possible.

He, better than most, knew how precious time was.

Anya only had three more weeks until she left for Paris.
Yesterday she’d booked her flights and contacted a real estate agent, trying to
find an apartment in Paris she could rent for three months. Even with her
newfound wealth, a place in the city would be crazy expensive but worth it.

Speaking of worth it, she looked around for her Master. So
far she’d only seen Jesse once tonight. He’d said he had some people he needed
to talk with and that he would be waiting for her in the atrium after she got
off. At the time she’d been so overwhelmed at seeing him again, it didn’t occur
to her until too late that she had no idea where the atrium was.

So now she wandered through the massive building, passing
through a series of hallways before she had to admit she was lost. They really
needed some kind of map around here, one of those big ones with a little red
pin that said you are here. There wasn’t anyone she could see in either
direction, so she decided to backtrack and find someone who could help her.

The sound of women’s voices came from somewhere ahead of
her, and she followed the sound to a T at the end of the hall. Before she
turned the corner, she heard Mistress Onyx’s distinct and very deep voice.

“Goddess, you have to stop this.”

Anya stepped back, unsure if she should interrupt them. Then
the soft sound of crying reached her ears, and she froze.

“Mistress, I’m so fucked up. He broke something inside of
me. I can’t trust anyone, but I need a Master.”

“I understand, and if that child-molesting bastard wasn’t
already in jail, I’d go hunt him down and kill him.”

“I wasn’t a child. I was sixteen.”

“Baby girl, you weren’t old enough to buy cigarettes, and
some mind-fucking Dom found you on the Internet and lured you away from your
home, then held you captive and made you his slave. He deserves to rot in
hell.”

Something hit the wall, and Goddess said in an angry
whisper, “I don’t want to fucking talk about him.”

“Okay, okay. But you have to stop getting physical with the
Doms. There is only so many times I can step in and keep you out of trouble.”

“I’m sorry. Master Vince touched my arm, and he pressed down
where it had been broken. For a second my mind like flashed back to when my
Ma—that bastard broke it.”

Mistress Onyx let out a weary sigh. “I wish we were gay and
I could take you on as my submissive. Some submissives can separate their daily
lives from the sexual life, but for you, it is one hundred percent. That makes
you a very rare commodity in the BDSM world. I just hope someday you’ll find
someone you can trust, someone who can help you heal. A Master worthy of the
gift of your submission.”

For a long moment there was quiet, then more soft crying but
muffled this time, like someone was holding Goddess.

Moving as quietly as she could, Anya went back the way she’d
come and took a different direction. Her mind was filled with the implications
of the conversation she’d just overheard, and her heart swelled in sympathy for
Goddess. Yeah, Anya had heard some of the horror stories about women being
abused, even killed by the predators who lived everywhere in the world. There
were bad and good people in BDSM, but also a large pool of potential victims.
Submissives who wanted to believe the best in someone, wanted to belong.

She took another corner, barely aware of where she was going,
and almost ran into a small table holding a vase full of orchids. Before she
could turn, a pair of big hands slid up her arms, and she jumped, or at least
she would have if those hands hadn’t clamped down on her firmly.

“Dove, what a pleasant surprise.”

With her heart hammering in her ears, she glanced over her
shoulder and mentally cursed at the sight of Master Bryan. He wore his usual
black leathers and black T-shirt that showed off the powerful build of his arms
and chest. With his dark eyes, goatee, and black hair, he had a sinister air
about him that his sensual smile didn’t help to soften.

“Please let me go. Master Jesse is expecting me.”

“Ah yes, Master Jesse. Are you tired of him yet?”

She jerked away from Master Bryan, her arms stinging where
his hands had been. “No. Actually I find him fascinating.”

Master Bryan took a step toward her, not touching her but
invading her space. “Do you know what I find fascinating? Watching the blood
rush to a submissive’s skin as I cane her, smelling the musk of her arousal
while she comes from being paddled. Pale, creamy skin like yours is my
favorite. It would show my marks so well.”

“Look, Bryan—”

“That’s Master Bryan, girl. Though you may be Master Jesse’s
sub of the moment, I expect you to extend me the courtesy of minding your
manners.” He fingered the whip at his side, and her body broke out in a
stinging sweat. Just the thought of anyone using a whip on her made her ill.
“Stop looking at me like that. I’m not going to whip you. I just happen to
enjoy irritating your Master, and nothing would bother him more than another
Dom touching his property.”