Chapter Twenty-Six

The next day did not start well.

First, Tori slept right through her alarm. When the buzzing finally roused her, she sat up quickly and looked at the time.

“Shite!”

Her head wanted to explode, pain spiking through her brain like murderous ice picks. Had she really had that much to drink last night at the club or was it the shock of finding out it was her courtroom nemesis behind the mask?

A hurried cup of coffee and several ibuprofens brought the hangover to a manageable level, but her head still throbbed. Too late for a shower, she raced through dressing and started slapping on makeup. Then she saw herself in the bedroom mirror. Wearing that infernal choker.

“Shite, shite, shite!” she railed. “What do I do?”

The mirror, unfortunately, had nothing to suggest.

For ten frantic minutes, she tried to get it off. Her raging fury about the whole situation added to her frustration as she fiddled with the clasp. Maybe it required a key.

What could she do?

Maybe ask the doorman?

No! Too embarrassing.

Already late, she fretted and paced the bathroom. She had a conference in chambers at ten and still needed to go over the brief on her desk. She would have to deal with this annoyance later. Maybe she could get help from Kate at lunch…although it would be embarrassing having to explain why she was stuck in a slave collar. Tori grabbed a silk scarf and tied it around her neck. Thank heavens she didn’t have court this morning.

She raced out of her flat.

After the cold, damp walk to the station, the relative warmth of the Tube did nothing to drive away the chill that pervaded her body and mind. Unable to find a seat on the train, she held tightly to the strap. The rocking motion combined with her continuing fury made her dizzy. Add to that her mounting worry about whether Ian King was on her docket this week, and she had to lock her mouth shut against the nausea that threatened to bring her coffee back up.

The bloody wanker would never, ever win a case in her court again!

But it was an empty threat. She wouldn’t let anger at a barrister, no matter how much of an arsehole he was, interfere with her fair implementation of the law. She’d recuse herself from any case involving him from now on.

She stared out the Tube train window, the scenery and the tunnel passing before her unseeing eyes, while his betrayal circled through her mind, a sickening maelstrom of lies and seduction.

It made her doubly nauseous thinking about how badly he could have hurt her once he’d reduced her to nothing more than his cougar slave. She’d already been halfway to mindless adoration in only two nights.

She had no idea why Ian had done this to her, but she doubted it had anything to do with him being too infatuated to take no for an answer. Not when he looked like God’s gift to women and had every female in court panting after him.

Before entering her chambers, she used her compact mirror to check that the scarf still concealed the slave collar.

As she walked through the front offices, a young female clerk waved hello. “Is it your birthday?” she asked.

Tori frowned. “No. Why do you ask?”

“Well, you must have had one terrific date last night.” The clerk grinned. “Because you have an admirer, and he—or she—has very good taste. I put them in your chambers.”

Opening the door, Tori peered into her office. A gargantuan bouquet of lavender-colored roses sat in a vase on her desk.

She strode forward, having no doubt who’d sent them. But how did he get them here so quickly?

An ivory linen envelope sat next to the vase. She snatched it up and ripped into it, wanting to confirm her suspicions. Pulling out the paper, she flipped it over to see the signature.

The long, handwritten letter ended with “Ian” scrawled in masculine script at the bottom.

She crumpled the paper without reading a single word and threw it into the trash bin.

She adored flowers, and these were stunning. She’d keep them, if not the man who had sent them.

She closed her eyes and inhaled the sweet rose fragrance before stepping back a few feet to gaze at the classic Biedermeier bouquet. The concentric circles of color in various shades of green, lavender, and ivory created a lushly romantic composition. Crowning the center were two calla lilies—one ivory and one dark plum. Rising dramatically from the middle, the two contrasting blooms intertwined around each other like lovers.

She huffed out her breath in annoyance. “The nerve of the man!” She reached out to snatch the offending lilies from the bouquet but stayed her hand at the last second. The arrangement was too perfect to alter.

The law clerk had been right about one thing. If nothing else, the man had good taste.

And good lord, the crystal vase looked like it might be Baccarat!

She hefted the beautiful thing to a side table moments before her ten o’clock arrived. Then she put the giver of flowers and object of her ire out of her mind.

With the conclusion of the session two hours later, she checked her mobile, but Kate hadn’t responded to her text. Now Tori had a problem. No way could she ask any other colleague for help in removing the collar.

Bugger! She’d actually have to wear it in court this afternoon.

Her mobile rang, and she snatched it up quickly to look at the number. But seeing it was Ian, she didn’t answer.

A minute later it buzzed with a text.

Randy: I am so sorry. I should have told you. Did you get my letter?

She deleted the text.

After lunch, she donned her silk robe with its high court red panels and collar. Thankfully, if she tugged it up a bit, the white linen neckband covered—just barely—the sparkly gold slave collar.

How had she got herself into this mess?

Shaking her head, she left her chambers for court, the heavy oak door swinging shut behind her. She started down the hall but abruptly ran back into her office and grabbed Ian’s letter from the trash, tucking it into her bag.