Page 39 of Hidden Heart

He watched her eat her breakfast. He could watch her for hours, days if she allowed. She would be going home after her meal. Stating cleaning, laundry, and napping as her chores for the day. He could order her to ignore her chores, to spend the day napping with him, but he figured she needed a little space.Little steps, he reminded himself.

“I have another project for you today,” he announced as they cleared the table. She settled in to wash the dishes, and he leaned back against the counter.

He pulled out a business card from a drawer and placed it on the countertop. “A friend from college actually went into the writing world. He’s an editor now for a small publishing house here in the city. Your project is to get your résumé together, write a killer cover letter, and send it to him. I didn’t even tell him your name, only that I was sending a gem his way.”

“What?” She breathed erratically, looking at the card and then back to him. “But I have no experience.”

“So what? I’ve seen your purse; you have a different book with you each time I see you. You know books.”

His observation had touched her; she hadn’t let on about her passion for reading.

“Royce, I don’t know.” She chewed the inside of her lower lip. “Just because I’m an avid reader doesn’t mean I have the knowledge to work at a publishing house.”

“I do. Do this if only because I’ve said to. Obey me in this.” He wiped a strand of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear.

Her brow crinkled. “Okay,” she agreed with a tender smile.

“Good girl.” Then he kissed her, pulling her to him and deepening the kiss. “Leave the dishes. I’ll get them later, after I walk you home.”

* * *

The doorman stoppedRoyce in the lobby of his building on his return from delivering Jessica safely to her doorstep. He wrung his white gloved hands together as he looked at Royce. “I’m sorry, sir. She demanded to be let up. Said you told her to meet you in your apartment. I recognized her name from the packages. I didn’t feel right about it, but she was becoming unruly in the lobby.”

“It’s all right. You let her into the apartment?” Royce looked at his watch; he didn’t need to ask who Robert had allowed into his apartment.

“Yes, sir. She had several suitcases with her.” Robert’s brow wrinkled. A thin layer of sweat covered his forehead.

“You did the right thing,” Royce soothed the worried doorman. “She can be very persistent.” The elevator doors opened. “I’ll deal with her.”

Royce stepped into the elevator and forced a smile on his face as the doors closed. Robert sighed with relief. No doubt Melody had given the man a hard time.

Music blared from his apartment. Her favorite punk band thumped against the walls as he opened the door. He remained focused and entered his apartment.

She was naked. She danced in his living room completely nude. Without a word, he found the remote to the stereo and switched off the music.

Startled, she turned to him and instantly dropped to her knees, placing her forehead to the floor, reaching her hands over her head and placing her right palm on the back of her left hand. A position from another life.

“Get up.” He tossed his jacket on the love seat.

She moved from her position on the floor to kneeling with her hands folded behind her back.

“No, stand up. Where are your clothes?” He walked around the room.

“It’s good to see you again, Sir. I put my clothing in the bedroom,” her silky voice answered him.

He left the room and reappeared with a pile of clothes in his hands. He dumped the pile in her lap. “I am not your Sir anymore, Melody,” he reminded her with forced civility. “Please get dressed.” He turned and walked away before she could react.

He poured himself a glass of water and waited in the kitchen. The dishes were clean and put away. Envisioning her touching the plates Jessica had used fueled his anger. Another strategic move from Melody. She was nothing like Jessica.

Jessica took to her role as his submissive naturally. It was who she was. Melody saw it as a game, a character role, not a lifestyle. If she wanted more dominance from him, she would purposely break rules. The strict, forceful master she wanted wasn’t in him. He didn’t want to break down a woman, he wanted to build her up, to hold her on a pedestal and worship her the same way she worshiped him. They needed to be partners in their dynamic, not enemies. No forcing or playacting, but real, tangible feelings. Jessica fit everything he searched for and more. Melody remained a past infliction he had been glad to be rid of when he moved to Chicago.

Melody joined him after dressing in her mid-thigh leather skirt and tank top. The weather was too cold for so little clothing, but he didn’t remark on it. She would take his interest in her wardrobe and twist it to suit her own desires.

“You’re not pleased with me,” she stated, leaning against the fridge. She folded her hands in front of her and tilted her head, taking a submissive pose that once appeased him when she’d been acting out of line. Now, he found the position manipulative. Jessica would never try to placate him with a demure look. There was a natural quality to Jessica that Melody didn’t possess. When Jessica regretted an action or saw his frustration, her mood shifted, not just her body. The difference between the two actions was significant.

“Melody…” He took a calming breath. A fight was the last thing he needed. “We broke up. Our relationship ended. I’ve asked you to stop sending gifts, but they keep coming, and now you’re here after I explicitly said you could not stay with me. What are you doing here?” He placed his glass in the sink.

“I miss you. I know I was wrong to ask for more than what you offered. I know you may never want more than what we had. I promise, I won’t ask for your love again.”

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