Captured by the Billionaire (The Complete Series) Page 7

  She was furious at how unfair he was being. Spoiled little rich boy. “You’re always asking me to trust you. But you clearly don’t trust me. Hell, you clearly don’t even respect me.”

  “I’m so sorry, Mallory,” he began, taking a step towards her. But she drew back from him as though he were advancing on her with a sword.

  “Stay away from me, Jake,” she hissed.

  But he didn’t stop until she was trapped between his body and the doors behind her, blocking her in just as the horned man had done. She had had it with men pushing her around. And she definitely wasn’t going to stand for anyone touching her without her permission again. Riding her anger like a wave, she drew her hand back and cracked it hard against Jake’s cheek. Her palm stung from the impact.

  He reeled back from her, his eyes wide with shock. “Don’t touch me, Jake Cleary,” she said acidly. “Ever. Again.”

  Fighting back tears, she darted around him and flung open the door that opened onto the canal. A gondola was waiting, and she jumped into it.

  “Mallory, wait!” Jake was standing in the doorway, a dark, masculine silhouette lit from behind by the warm yellow light of the grand old building. Mallory hoped that the darkness obscured the glistening of the tears on her face.

  “Leave me alone, Jake. I’m going home. Don’t call me. I never want to see you again.” She tried her best for a snappish tone, but even in her own ears her voice sounded miserable.

  The End… For Now

  Bound

  Book 4 of Captured by the Billionaire

  Julia Sykes

  © 2012

  Chapter 1

  It had been one week since Mallory had run away from Jake, fleeing Venice. One miserable week. She had returned to their hotel alone, hastily packing her bag before Jake could catch up with her and stop her. With difficulty, she had unlaced herself from her corset and scraped the wax off her chest and thighs with her fingernails, turning her pale skin red.

  As she was half-running through the entranceway, the concierge had stopped her, telling her that a first class ticket back to Charleston had been reserved for her. Part of her was pissed, not wanting to accept anything else from Jake; he had accused her of being a “gold-digger,” after all. But she reluctantly accepted, knowing that her bank account couldn’t fund a last-minute flight.

  And now she was back at her humble apartment, moping. At times she thought of their time together in Venice and wondered if it had all been a surreal dream. And she wished it had been a dream. Then Jake Cleary wouldn’t be real, and he wouldn’t have hurt her with his harsh words.

  Gold-digger. Slut. Mallory tried to shake off the insults that were burned into her brain.

  She knew that she should be happy, ecstatic even; after months of agonizing waiting, she had been offered a teaching job at a prestigious prep school just outside of Charleston. The pay was good, and she was thrilled to have something productive to look forward to in a month’s time when term started.

  Only she wasn’t very thrilled. In the free time that she had before her job started, she had had nothing to occupy her thoughts but Jake: his gorgeous, easy smile, the fabulous sex, his arrogance, and his insults. Her emotions were tangled when it came to thinking about him. One moment she would yearn for his company, and the next anger would boil up in her. But the worst was when tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. At those times, her fury would be directed at herself, angry that she was allowing him to affect her so deeply. They had only known each other for a few days, for god’s sake.

  Two days after she had arrived back at home, Sally called her in a panic, worried because she hadn’t gotten in touch after the four days that she had said she would spend in Venice. Mallory assured her that she was okay, but her voice had been hollow, dejected. Her friend had come over to her place immediately, demanding to know what was wrong. She pulled the truth from Mallory bit by bit, until she found herself shamefully sobbing on her friend’s shoulder, her heart twisting painfully at the loss, at Jake’s betrayal.

  But now she was done crying, she told herself sternly. She had almost broken down when Jake had called her the first time. Not recognizing his number, she had answered. As soon as he said her name, her heart leapt, but she had hung up on him before his rich, deep voice could pull her in. He had called her every day since then, but she refused to answer, deleting his messages immediately; she couldn’t handle hearing his voice without ripping the wound back open again.

  Today Sally had taken her to Marble Stone Creamery, her favorite ice cream place. Mallory hated that she was falling back on the old cliché of eating ice cream when she was depressed over a man, but at this point she was beyond caring. They didn’t leave until she had polished off an entire extra-large chocolate peanut butter explosion.

  But as she stepped outside of the creamery, she spotted a sleek black Jaguar waiting by the curb. A sharply-dressed man was standing formally beside the back door. Mallory’s stomach dropped as he approached her.

  “Miss Williams?” He asked.

  “Yes?” Her answer was questioning.

  “Would you come with me please.” Although it was worded as a question, his answer was a statement.

  Mallory crossed her arms over her chest. “I’d rather not.” She knew whose car that was, and she knew where it would take her.

  “I would advise that you come along,” he said, more insistently. “I’ve been instructed to tail you wherever you go until you agree to come with me.”

  Mallory was angry, but she couldn’t help the flutter that stirred in her loins. Damn dominant asshole, she thought, annoyed at her reaction. “I always get what I want, Mallory.” Hadn’t he told her that several times?

  She gave an exasperated sigh. “I guess I don’t really have much of a choice then, do I?”

  The man gave her a solemn look. “No ma’am.”

  Mallory looked back at Sally. “Well, apparently I’m being kidnapped. I’ll call you later.”

  Sally narrowed her eyes at the man. “You had better,” she replied, a threat in her tone.

  The driver opened the back door for Mallory, and she reluctantly slid onto the leather seat. As they drove through downtown Charleston, her nerves became more and more frayed. She didn’t know if she could handle seeing Jake again; she was worried that she would dissolve into a puddle of tears as soon as she laid eyes on him. Taking several deep breaths, she clung tightly to her anger to hold the tears at bay.

  When the car stopped fifteen agonizingly long minutes later, Mallory was surprised to find that they were parked in front of a huge office building, all blocky lines and large windows that gleamed in the sun. She had been bracing herself for the long ride to Jake’s mansion, but apparently he was at work. Mallory felt a pang as she remembered his hurt look when she accused him of never working; it seemed he hadn’t been lying about the time he spent at the office.

  The driver opened her door for her and took her hand, helping her step out of the car. As if I couldn’t manage on my own, she thought scathingly. But refusing his hand would have been rude, so she took it, her lips pressed firmly together to hold back her retort.

  “This way please, Miss Williams.” Releasing her hand, he walked toward the entrance to the building, and she followed him in when the glass doors slid open to admit them. Moments later, she was in the elevator, where the driver had pressed the button for the top floor.

  The elevator finally stopped with a pinging noise, and Mallory stepped out. There was a large, curved desk before her with a pretty redhead sitting behind it. Another hot employee, she thought disparagingly. The woman gave her a smile and gestured down the long hallway.

  “You can go right in, Miss Williams.”

  God, did everyone know who she was? Had Jake circulated her picture to his staff or something? She wouldn’t put it past him to have had people spying on her.

  The driver followed her down the hall, giving the impression of politely escorting her, but she thought of him as mo
re of a guard, making sure that the prisoner didn’t escape.

  Mallory forced her heaving chest to still as her guard opened the door to Jake’s office. He was sitting behind his desk, his fingers pressed together as though praying.

  She couldn’t help being stunned by how handsome he was; she had forgotten the effect he had on her. But there were lines of anxiety around his mouth and dark circles under his eyes. His usually perfect hair was a bit unkempt, as though he had been running his hands through it frequently in frustration. Mallory couldn’t help softening towards him as she realized his obvious distress.

  No, she told herself firmly. Jake Cleary is an entitled asshole who just sent a lackey to fetch you like his dry cleaning.

  “Hello, Mallory.” His voice was tired, but there was a small smile playing around his mouth, and the lines of anxiety eased, as though her mere presence was melting his dark mood.

  Mallory felt an answering loosening of the tension within her, not even realizing that she had held it until it was released. But she forced her voice to hone to sharpness. “What do you want, Jake?”

  His face fell slightly at her tone. “I have to talk to you, Mallory. To explain.”

  “What is there to explain?” She snapped. “You accused me of using you for your money and called me a slut.” She spat the last word out, flinging it at him like a dagger.

  He winced, and she felt a moment of triumph, knowing that she had hurt him as he had hurt her. But the victory felt hollow, wrong somehow.

  “You have to let me make this right, Mallory. Please.” His voice was strained on the last word. Mallory was sure that he rarely begged for anything. It was possible that he never had.

  With a resigned sigh, she plopped down in the cushioned leather seat opposite from him. “Then talk,” she said in a clipped tone.

  Jake closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as though bracing himself. When he opened them, they were full of pain. “I’ve never told anyone about this Mallory, you have to understand that. But please, give me time and hear me out.”

  She nodded curtly, wanting him to get on with it and get it over with so that she could leave.

  “There was a woman, Jennifer, who I dated a few years ago. She was my first and only love. She was sweet, gentle, obedient.” His eyes flashed to Mallory, barely concealing his longing. “I thought she was perfect in every way.” His face twisted into an anguished frown.

  “I gave her everything: money, jewels. We travelled the world together. I was going to ask her to marry me.

  “Little did I know that her… appetites were more voracious than I realized,” he continued. “She would have dark bruises on her skin days after we had played, but she claimed that she marked up easily. I was so blinded by my feelings for her that I believed her.”

  His face shifted into a mask of anger. “But then one day I came home early from a business trip, and I found them. They were together, in our house: Jennifer and the sadist.”

  He suddenly looked weary, sad, clearly still wounded by the memories. “When I confronted her, she tried to apologize, saying that it was the first time that she had been with him. I forgave her, and I tried to be rougher with her, to give her what she wanted. But it went against my nature.”

  His eyes were shining. Were those tears? Mallory had never seen him so raw. She felt herself softening towards him as she witnessed his grief. “But then her friend Celeste came to me,” he trudged on. “She said that she was being crushed by the weight of her secret, and she confessed that Jennifer had been seeing the sadist since before we even started dating. She had never broken off the relationship, but she had been using me for my money. She had been lying to me the whole time, had played me for the fool. I kicked her out of my life and have never been with a woman for more than one night since then.

  “Until I met you, Mallory,” he was looking at her with a fierce hunger in his eyes, mingled with an intense yearning. “My harsh words weren’t meant for you; they were meant for her.”

  It all made sense to Mallory now: he had lashed out in Venice because seeing her with the horned man had brought his feelings of betrayal back to the fore. His calling her a gold-digger and a slut had been a reaction to his old wound being ripped back open. Especially since he had opened himself up to Mallory, showing her glimpses of his vulnerability. And apparently he hadn’t allowed himself to do that in the years since Jennifer had broken his heart.

  Mallory felt a sudden surge of hatred toward the faceless bitch who had hurt Jake; she had scarred him so deeply that he was scared of true intimacy.

  Mallory met his eyes and was caught up in their multifaceted beauty, all royal blue with hints of darkest green. “I forgive you, Jake,” she said softly.

  He visibly sagged in relief at her words. Then he straightened, moving around his desk so quickly that she gasped in shock as he took her by the shoulders and lifted her up. His arms gripped her waist tightly, clinging onto her as if she were the only real thing in the world. He took her mouth fiercely, as though he could brand her with his kiss.

  When he finally pulled back from her, his eyes were shining. “Thank you, Mallory.” She was sure that he had never said that to a submissive in his life.

  Chapter 2

  Half an hour later, Mallory found herself riding in the back of Jake’s Jaguar again, pulling down the long drive leading to his plantation house. He sat as closely beside her as possible, occasionally leaning in for a sweet kiss, as though he couldn’t help himself.

  If she had found the house stunning in the darkness of the evening, it was nothing short of breathtaking in the daylight. There were light-pink azaleas interspersed with gardenia bushes lining the house on either side of the semi-circular porch. Huge oak trees shaded the manor, providing relief from the South Carolina summer heat, and two massive Carolina Palmetto trees bookended either side of Jake’s sprawling home. The entire picture was one of classic elegance. Mallory loved it, especially considering her passion for history.

  She didn’t even realize that she was beaming, her earlier anger at Jake forgotten as she took in the idyllic beauty of the grounds. He grinned back at her, and, holding her hand, he led her into the house. They walked down a long, high-ceilinged hallway before climbing the stairs that Mallory had first tread when she had been led to Jake’s office, where they had shared their first kiss. Her heart gave a little leap at the memory of his strong hands on her, his mouth hot and demanding; her first taste of his dominant nature.

  After climbing two flights of stairs, Jake paused in front of a closed door crafted of darkly polished wood. “I have something I want to show you, Mallory. Something that I think you’ll like, if you give it a chance,” he said in a low, gravelly tone.

  “What is it?” She asked suspiciously, the beginnings of nervousness stirring in her belly.

  “I take it that means you want me to show you?” He asked, grinning.

  She rolled her eyes at him. “Yes, I believe that was implied by my question.”

  He suddenly gripped her hair at the nape of her neck, jerking her head back roughly so that she was forced to look up into his eyes. “What have I told you about rolling your eyes at me, sub?” His voice was dangerous, his eyes that deep blue that told her his Dominant side was taking over.

  “Sorry,” she said, dropping her eyes.

  He tugged on her hair harder, sending tingles down her spine as he brought her wide-eyed gaze back to his hard one. “How are you to address me, sub?”

  “Sorry, Sir,” she whispered, overwhelmed by his dominant aura.

  He smiled softly, running the pad of his thumb over her lower lip, applying pressure. She opened for him, and he slid it inside her mouth. She sucked on it gently, swirling her tongue around it, grazing it with her teeth. “Good girl,” he murmured, his pleasure at her response obvious. Her pussy clenched at the diminutive phrase.

  After a moment, he pulled his hand away and released his grip on her hair, leaving her wanting. Then he was opening the d
oor, leading her by the hand into the dim room. For a moment, she could see nothing, but then Jake flipped a switch, flooding the room with a reddish light. Mallory couldn’t help but gasp.

  Grey stone walls matched the slate tiled floor, giving the room a sense of rough severity. Strangely-shaped furniture was crafted of black-painted metal topped with red leather. There was a huge, four-poster king-size bed with red velvet drapes pushed up along one wall and a large, black-painted wooden X in the corner beside it. Mallory could hardly believe what she was seeing; she was standing in a dungeon.

  Who has one of these in their house? She wondered, her feeling of bemusement more comfortable to contemplate than her nervousness. Jake Cleary, Dominant sexy billionaire. Of course he has one. How silly of her to even be remotely surprised.

  Jake took her gently by the shoulders, looking down at her. There was a furrow of concern in his brow, his eyes apprehensive. “Are you alright, Mallory?” He asked. “I know this is probably all a bit overwhelming.”

  “Just a bit,” she said faintly. She didn’t even know what most of the furniture in the room was meant to be used for, but she could figure out the basics based on the restraints on each piece. Hell, even the bed had leather cuffs chained to the posts.

  Jake tenderly tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I’d like to play with you, Mallory. If you’re willing.” His eyes were anxious, belying his otherwise cool demeanor; her answer was clearly of the upmost importance to him.

  She considered for a moment. Yes, the room was scary, but it was nothing compared to her fear of the crowds at the fetish ball in Venice. And she couldn’t deny that the fear of the unknown was… enticing, erotic. She shot a nervous look around the room one more time. Swallowing against the dryness in her throat, she gathered up her courage.

  “Yes, Jake,” she said finally. “I’m willing.”