Page 24 of Savage Game
“I’m great. Just peachy.”
“Peachy, huh?”
His mouth twitched and she wanted to stroke the corner—couldn’t move.
He brushed his lips lightly over hers, and moved out of her vision, trailing his hand over her neck, shoulder, down her arm to her hand.
“Squeeze my fingers.” He placed two digits in her palm, and she obeyed. “Excellent, kitten, that’s great. Any tingling or numbness?”
“No. Not really. The rope feels good. So good.” The last word ended on a moan.
“Okay, Kittycat, I’m going to keep you like this for a little longer before I untie you for some cuddle time. Call out if something is starting to hurt or if you’re getting uncomfortable before that, okay?”
As Charlotte allowed the ropes to hold her, she didn’t mind she was naked and bound. She didn’t feel embarrassed or frightened. Not sure how long he kept her suspended, she was floating in a happy place. Even when he lowered her to the rug and almost reverently removed the ropes, her mind hummed with contentment. When he stretched out beside her on the rug and simply cuddled her, spooning her back to his chest, her soul soared. With the fire warming her from the front and Byron’s body-heat at her back, her insides were warm and gooey, and her heart almost burst with happiness.
11
Day Eleven
More nervously than a teenager going on a prom date, Charlotte exited her bedroom in the stunning ivory-white gown. The off-the-shoulder embroidered bodice made the most of her small chest, and the hairstylist had blow-dried her long locks in soft waves.
A little insecure on the ridiculously high, nude Christian Louboutin evening-wear sandals with the peep-toe fishnet panel and straps, she went in search of… Byron. Tonight, she would be his date, not his plaything slash prize of the month but a date.
Don’t call him Master or Sir, you dummy.
Concentrating on staying upright and trying not to panic over tonight’s task, she wandered into the living room and stopped dead in her tracks. Standing at the tall window, Ma... Byron was dressed in a single-breasted midnight blue tuxedo. Where Liam always resembled a fat penguin in a dinner jacket and his cummerbund never seemed to fit, this man filled the attire like he was made for it. He half-turned and she frowned, his bowtie was still hanging limply around his neck.
Doesn’t he know how to tie it?
“Charlotte.” His gaze and his voice were warm as he pulled his hands from his pockets and prowled over to her with outstretched hands.
She closed the distance, let her hands be engulfed in his warm grip, and accepted a kiss on her cheek.
“You are absolutely stunning in that dress, Kittycat. How are the shoes?”
“Surprisingly comfortable, although I’m afraid I will trip.”
He gave her a dazzling smile. “Just hang on to me. I won’t let you fall.”
Oh, how I wish I could hang on to him for real.
Because what he said was true. He wouldn’t let a woman in his care fall or come to harm. She forced the wishful thoughts aside and distracted herself by stroking the satiny lapels of his dinner jacket. “You look dashing in a tux, Sir.” She tapped the tie end with a manicured nail. “Do you need help with that?”
He narrowed his eyes on her and studied her for a long time. Then he inclined his head. “I would like that, yes. Do you know how, or do I need to guide you?”
A smile took over her face as she remembered Poppa. “My grandfather wore a bowtie on a daily basis for my entire childhood. As soon as I mastered lacing my shoes, he taught me how to knot his tie.” She finished the knot and rested her hands over it. “Later when his arthritis became so bad, he couldn’t handle the most basic things himself, and I did his bow tie every day.” Her voice trailed off and she stared out of the window without actually seeing anything of the scenery.
“What happened to him?” Comforting hands stroked over the three-quarter sleeves of her dress, keeping the cold threatening to wash over her at bay.
“What happens to old people? He died.” She straightened her spine and pulled on the reins of her emotions. “My mother wasn’t married when I was born and… um… couldn’t cope with a baby. My grandparents took me in. Nana, my grandmother, died when I was twelve and from that time on, it was just Poppa and me. He took care of me until he couldn’t anymore, and then I took care of him.”
He curled his hand around her cheek and forced her to face him. “How old were you?”
“Just before my junior year, Poppa was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. I cared for him for about a year before I couldn’t handle his care, footing the bills, and going to school all at the same time.”
He tilted his head like a graceful animal listening. “Why do I have the feeling this isn’t all?”
Her shoulders slumped. “You’re right. Liam was our landlord’s son and was responsible for collecting rent. When we couldn’t pay him on time for several months, he suggested a deal. He needed a wife to make his daddy happy, and I needed money to take care of my grandfather.”
