Page 20 of Savage Romance
After a delicious six-course meal, Zoe noticed Charlotte making her way to the ladies’ room and excused herself from the table. A little unsteady on the high heels—maybe that third glass of wine hadn’t been a good idea after all—she wobbled after the woman in pink who’d just entered the luxurious bathroom more suited for an exclusive spa than an office building.
Scanning the room, she noticed Charlotte disappearing inside a stall and Zoe joined the line of ladies checking their makeup in the large span of bronze mirror across the wall above the three sinks and reapplied her lip gloss. All the while, she kept her eye on the stall door.
After what felt like ages but more likely was less than a minute, a toilet flushed, and Charlotte exited the stall and looked for a sink. Quickly, Zoe stepped aside and made an inviting gesture.
With a polite inclination of her head, the other woman stepped forward and washed her hands. As she took a guest towel from the pile and dried her hands, she smiled pleasantly at Zoe. “We haven’t had time to talk, but you’re Ben Dennehy’s wife, right? Zoe?”
“That’s right.” Zoe offered her hand and struggled to find something to say. I’m so inept at small talk. “That’s a lovely necklace, I don’t think I’ve ever seen one like that before.”
“Why thank you.” Reflectively, Charlotte’s hand rose to the diamonds around her neck, and a color the same shade as her dress flushed her cheeks. “It’s very dear to me.”
“Oh?” Zoe relaxed somewhat, her interest now piqued.
“My husband gave it to me for our first anniversary as a symbol of our life together.”
“A symbol?”
Noises from the dining hall came in as two women left the bathroom, then silenced as the door closed behind them, leaving Zoe and Charlotte alone in the room.
Charlotte bit her lip and looked indecisive.
“Listen.” Zoe held up a hand in surrender. “You don’t have to tell me if it’s too personal.” She mirrored Charlotte’s stance. “It’s just that I don’t know many people from Ben’s circle, and I find it hard to connect. You seem nice, and your husband and mine are friends, right?”
“True.” A long silence ensued.
Just as the moment stretched long enough to become uncomfortable, Charlotte spoke again, “When I first met Byron, he terrified me. But although he scared me, he also treated me… well, like a pampered princess.” Absentmindedly, Charlotte stroked the collar. When she started to speak again, it was almost like she was talking to herself. “Byron taught me to express my desires. We had a rough start and my previous husband made things difficult, but I’m so happy we stuck together and our relationship keeps developing. I’m very happy with my life as his wife and his submissive.”
“Submissive?” The word echoed off the walls, and Zoe cringed. Her cheeks grew hot, and she dropped her voice. “As in men bossing women around?”
“Well, it’s not always the man being the dominant, but yes.”
“Like that Anastasia girl in”—Zoe lowered her voice an octave more—“Fifty Shades of Grey?” Her gaze slid over toward the bathroom door as if the scarred, tall man in the black, tailored tuxedo was about to enter the room and pull out a whip.
Charlotte threw back her head and laughed. “Oh, my goodness! No, no, nothing like that.” She placed a hand on Zoe’s arm. “Rest assured, I’m not being beaten or abused by my current husband.”
Zoe blinked at the emphasis on the word current. “Do you mean…” She broke off and clasped her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have asked. I guess I’ve had too much champagne or something.”
“Don’t be embarrassed, dear.” Charlotte gave her a warm smile. “I was married to Liam Randall and he and his best friend raped and abused me systematically throughout my entire marriage.”
“How horrible.” Taking a tentative step toward the other woman, Zoe awkwardly patted her hand.
Charlotte’s shoulders moved up and down before she pulled them back and straightened. She looked Zoe square in the eyes and offered, “More than the physical and emotional abuse, the pain of the betrayal by someone you’d trusted and who should have loved you hurts the worse, you know.”
“Actually, I…” The don’t in her sentence died on her tongue. Because every tease, prank, and accidental slap from Michael had been less painful than the duplicity in his actions. “I do.”
Whether Charlotte heard her whispered affirmation, Zoe didn’t know.
“Byron may have collared me, but I never have been as free and as cared for in my entire life.”
“Oh. Wow.” Then the realization of Charlotte’s words sank in. Michael had been Liam’s best friend since the two met in business school. Bile burned in the back of Zoe’s throat. Her brother had been an abuser and rapist. She slapped her hand over her mouth and rushed inside one of the vacant stalls.
Chapter Fifteen
On their first workday in the new year, Ben went into the kitchen to make pancakes for breakfast after he brought Zoe her morning coffee.
After Charlotte had warned him about Zoe being ill, he’d watched his wife closely and had been extra careful with her. He didn’t believe the stomach-bug excuse and neither had Charlotte if Ben read her expression correctly.
Ben yawned and scratched the back of his head. After a hearty stretch, he began gathering ingredients. He didn’t cook often, but the manual labor helped him to formulate plans, and they would have a delicious breakfast to boot.
