Uncovering You 2: Submission (5 page)

I set to it.

***

I prop myself up against the countertop when I’m done. It’s amazing how much a little makeup can transform a person’s appearance.

I look as radiant as ever.

I hold my shoulders high and waltz out to select my evening attire. When Stonehart left me, I was a huddling mess on the floor. When he sees me next, he will find no sign of that woman.

Determination to see justice done keeps my spirit from breaking. Stonehart wants to prove to me that he owns my body. I will let him indulge in that fantasy.

This is only day one.

Chapter Six

I come back to the sunroom to an unexpected surprise. The door leading outside is open.

For a moment, my brain cannot comprehend what this means. Am I allowed out? Is this another so-called “token of good behavior”?

Only after grappling with those thoughts do I notice a dining table being set up by the same elderly woman who cared for me that day a week ago. She stops what she’s doing when she notices me, and smiles.

“You are looking the picture of health this morning, Miss Ryder.”

I blink, surprised to be addressed by anyone other than Stonehart. I am so used to being forgotten. Old habits die hard, I guess.

“Oh,” I stammer. “Thank you.” I take a few careful steps toward her. “I’m sorry, but I never caught your name.”

“It’s Rose.” She smiles again, then turns her attention back to the table.

“Rose,” I mumble under my breath. It’s amazing to be talking to someone
other
than Stonehart. “It’s nice to meet you, Rose.”

She makes a noncommittal but friendly gesture toward me without glancing up.

I walk a few more steps toward her. “I was wondering, since you left the door open…” I eye the tray of dishware standing outside, “…if that means that…” I trail off, not sure how much to say.

“Oh!’ She stands straight and puts her hands on her hips. “Actually, Mr. Stonehart did ask me to pass a message onto you. He said, ‘Nothing has changed.’ Now,” she laughs, “I won’t presume to know what that means, and it’s certainly not my intention to pry, but I suspect you have some sort of agreement with him? Maybe this has something to do with that.”

She winks at me, cheerful as a honeybee. “He also told me to make sure to always keep that door closed, but it was so stuffy in here when I came, I thought a little fresh air might do you good.” She smiles. “Don’t you agree?”

“Oh, yes,” I whisper, astounded. Fresh air? Is it possible that I have found an ally in this woman?

I can hardly believe she is the person who regarded me with such disinterest a week ago.

“Do you mind?” I ask, gesturing to the door.

“By all means,” she says. “Be my guest.”

I walk up to the door and put my hands on the frame. A draft lifts my hair around my face. I inhale deeply, loving the scent of the ocean. I haven’t tasted fresh air in God knows how long.

It feels like an enormous breach of protocol to be doing this. But I am not breaking any rules, am I? And knowing that I am feeling the wind on my face—something Stonehart had no intention of allowing me to do—is an encouraging boost to my psyche.

Stonehart does not control as much as he thinks.

I wonder how far I’m willing to push this time. I look down at my feet, then edge them forward a few inches. My toes hang over the threshold.

I know the collar tracks my position. As long as my head stays inside, I shouldn’t be in any danger.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes, then stick one foot out the door.

A great thrill shoots through me when my foot touches the cement walkway outside. I shiver and pull back quickly. One taste of rebellion is enough.

I walk up to Rose. I see her hide a small smile as she keeps her eyes pointed downward.

“Are you setting up for me and Mr. St—Jeremy?” I ask.

“Yes,” she answers.

“He didn’t tell me he was coming for dinner.”

“At six o’clock,” Rose confirms.

“Hmm.” I have hours left yet. With nothing else to do, I ask, “May I help you?”

Rose looks at me. A kind, motherly smile graces her lips. “I’d like that very much.

Chapter Seven

Some hours later, I’m sitting alone at the table, looking over the beautiful water, when I catch Stonehart approaching from the corner of my eye. I stand as he enters the room, and only sit back down when he takes his chair across from me.

“Good evening, Lilly,” he greets me.

“Good evening, Jeremy,” I reply.

“I see you were waiting for me. That’s good.” He takes a small sip of water. “I hate it when it’s the other way around.”

“I promise, that won’t happen again.” I offer a sickly-sweet smile.

“Good.” Stonehart nods. He leans back and drapes one arm over his chair. “You look beautiful tonight, Lilly.”

His voice is completely sincere. It takes me by surprise.

“Thank you, Jeremy.”

“The color of your dress brings out your eyes,” he observes. “I am pleased you took the effort to find suitable clothes.”

“It’s not hard when I have such a generous selection at my disposal.”

Stonehart nods in approval. “I have to say, your behavior is a pleasant surprise. I was expecting more… defiance… from you.”

I smile at him sweetly. “Why would you expect defiance, Jeremy? You provide me with everything that I need.”

He smirks. “Yes. You might say that.” He glances over his shoulder. “Shall we eat?”

On his word, a young man in a tuxedo bustles in from the sitting room. He wheels a tray of food with him. Delectable scents waft from the covered platter.

He sets up the table with practiced efficiency. Stonehart does not acknowledge him until he’s done, and I take his cue. We both wait in silence.

When the young man is finished, Stonehart gives a curt nod of dismissal. The man bows, turns, and walks away.

When we’re alone again, Stonehart smiles. “How was your day?” he asks.

I stare at him as my brain goes blank. I nearly forget myself enough to let my jaw drop.
How was my day?
Is he fucking
serious
?

“Lilly,” he notes, “it’s customary to reply to a polite inquiry at dinner.”

“It was fine,” I sputter, shaking my head. “How was yours?”

Stonehart’s eyes narrow. The movement is so slight it’d be imperceptible to most people. I pick up on it. I know better than to let my guard down around him. Not when so much depends on his moods.

“Need I remind you of the rules governing your behavior?” Stonehart asks, his eyes growing hard. “Rule three, in particular: You are not allowed to question my desires. Questions pertaining to your situation are prohibited,” he quotes.

My stomach instantly twists into a knot. “No, Jeremy, I didn’t mean it that way. I’m sorry. It just—slipped out.” I lower my eyes to my plate. “Please don’t punish me,” I whisper.

“Now, now, Lilly.” Stonehart speaks with rich, mocking warmth. “What need would I have to punish you? I’m not immune to your situation. I understand some of your social abilities have dulled over the course of your stay. That just adds one more item to the list of things we need to work on.”

“I’ll do better,” I promise, silently cursing myself. Groveling goes against every bone in my body, but it’s what I must do if I want to play my role right. “You’re right. I’m rusty.”

“Of course I’m right,” he tells me. “You’d be hard-pressed to find a situation in which I’m wrong.”

Except about me
, I repeat in my head.
You’re wrong about me
.

Stonehart smiles. I’d call it a greasy smile if it were on a face even a tenth less handsome. But he has clearly mastered the art of presentation. Everything about him flows from a place of cool confidence. “Shall we eat?”

“Yes,” I agree, glad for a distraction. “Yes, let’s.”

***

The rest of dinner goes by without much in the way of conversation. I don’t know my place yet, so I don’t speak unless Stonehart asks me a direct question.

That attitude fosters a growing silence between us. It has me on edge. Stonehart, on the other hand, looks right at ease. As he eats, he directs a polite smile at me every once in a while. The quiet does not bother him.

Then again, why should it? I imagine he has dealt with situations that were orders of magnitude more stressful—and important—than a dinner with his…
plaything
. To him, this dinner means nothing.

But for me, interactions like this are of utmost importance. One-on-one time with Stonehart is the only chance I have to learn about him.

This is his mask
, I realize just as I’m taking my last bite.
This is the face he shows to his colleagues. To the public. This is the face of Jeremy Stonehart, mega-millionaire, CEO of Stonehart Industries.

It gives no hint of the monster lurking underneath.

After our plates are taken away, Stonehart leans back. He still hasn’t said anything. He smiles, and I feel his eyes taking my features in. They dip past my neck, to the hemline of my dress. Being openly ogled like that makes me uncomfortable. I want to tug the straps up, and hide more of my skin, but I am sure that doing so would irritate him.

So, I sit perfectly straight and pretend not to notice.

Eventually, the silence becomes unbearable. This is the most time I’ve spent with him without having his cock shoved down my throat. I need to take advantage, especially so long as we’re both operating on some pretense of civility.

“Jeremy?” I venture. I make sure to add the proper amount of hesitation to my voice. “May I ask you a question?”

He picks up his wineglass and swirls it in his hand. “Do you remember our rules?” he asks.

“Yes. My question—well, it’s not even a question, really, more like… a clarification. It has to do with your—with my—rules. I’m only asking so I don’t risk breaking them later.”

Stonehart leans forward, intrigued. “You’re taking initiative,” he says. “You’re owning your situation. I respect that.” He nods. “Go on.”

I clear my throat. “You mentioned, before… um,
consequences of misbehavior.
”

“Yes,” he says. “I did.”

“I was wondering…” I clear my throat again. “What those would be?”

Stonehart smiles grandly. “Why, Lilly. I didn’t think a smart girl like you would have any trouble figuring that out.” He pauses to lean back and crosses one leg over the other. “The answer’s simple:

“If you misbehave, I will leave you in the dark.”

All the blood drains from my brain.
No. No, I will
not
go back there!

My grip on my own wineglass slackens. It slips through my fingers and falls to the floor, splintering into tiny, sharp shards. The red liquid spreads like a growing pool of blood.

Stonehart frowns. “I’ve upset you,” he says softly. “Lilly, I assure you, that was not my intention.”

“It’s my fault,” I stammer, shaking my head. There is no act this time. This reaction is wholly my own. “I just… I just need…”

“Yes?” Stonehart asks, leaning forward. “Lilly. Tell me what you need.”

“I need… I need…
air
!”

I gasp and push up from the table. I stumble as a wave of light-headedness hits me.

Stonehart is by my side in a flash. His hands gently grip my shoulders and he lowers me to my chair.

“Breathe,” he tells me. “Lower your head.” I see him looking up at me, and realize he’s kneeling down to be on my level. I see both compassion
and
concern on his face.

Damn him for being such a good actor! Nobody in their right mind would ever think those emotions are faked. But I know better.

Stonehart holds my hand between both of his. I should be repulsed by having him so close, but somehow, beyond all reason, that simple grip on my hand gives me strength.

“Do you need some water?” he asks. Holy hell! He even manages to make his
voice
sound sincere. “You said you need air. Would you like to go outside?”

I nod dumbly. Stonehart stands, looping one arm around my waist, and helps me up. I have to lean on him for support as he leads me forward.

We walk to the door. I’m breathing quickly, taking sharp, little gasps as I force my feet to move. It feels like I’m close to a panic attack.

Stonehart stops in front of the glass door and brings his wrist to the sensor. I hear the beep of the scanner—and remember the still-active collar around my neck.

I push away from Stonehart and stare, wide-eyed, as cool, sweet night air rushes in from the gaping door.

“The range,” I half-gasp. “Did you change it?”

Stonehart looks at me with pity. “My sweet Lilly,” he says. “The moment I change the range, you will be the first to know.”

My eyes dart to the door. My hands are balled into fists at my side. My heart is racing. “You were going to lead me outside,” I say, trying to make sense of it. “
Past
the perimeter you set?”