Chapter Thirty-Eight

Tori unlocked the door to her flat, but her luxurious home no longer filled her with pleasure as it had before. Instead of a sense of achievement, tonight it seemed sadly empty.

“Shake it off,” she muttered. She wasn’t going to let the male species get her down. Their betrayal wouldn’t shape her life, but she couldn’t fool herself that it didn’t hurt. Her heart wouldn’t let her.

She locked her door and flipped the foyer light on.

“Shake it off, Tori,” she repeated while hanging her jacket in the closet.

“Shake what off?”

Foreboding slithered up her spine.

Whirling about, she swept her gaze across the open-plan kitchen and sitting room to find him relaxing as if he owned the place on her favorite wing-back chair by the windows. It looked like he’d helped himself to her favorite wine, as well.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Rupert took a sip of her wine.

Marching over, she demanded, “How did you get into my flat? I got my key back from you the night we broke up.”

He smiled up at her, an eerily friendly, slightly vacant look on his face. And took yet another sip of her wine.

In a near shout, she repeated, “How did you get into my apartment?”

“Easy-peasy, my dearest. The staff downstairs know we have been together for years. They’re also cognizant of my importance as member of the peerage and the House of Lords. Johnny was only too happy to let me in when I told him I had lost my key and wanted to surprise you with a special dinner to celebrate our engagement.”

With the glimmer of a nasty grin on his face, he raised his glass to her in salute…and took another sip of wine. “He says congratulations, by the way.”

“We are not engaged, and you—”

“I have planned a special celebration you will not soon forget.”

Her foreboding exploded into alarm. He was behaving strangely, so unlike the milquetoast boyfriend she’d known for years. But then again, she’d never really known his true character.

Shifting her stance wider and taking a deep breath, she pulled on her reserve of high court hauteur. “I insist you leave my flat. Right now.”

Never taking his eyes off hers, he took another sip. “Delicious. You always did have the best taste in wine, Victoria.” He set the glass down on the side table.

She sidled backward, edging toward the door.

In an instant, he jumped up and grabbed her arm, pulling her into his embrace. “Did you forget that tonight is our three-year anniversary? I think it is high time we finalize our engagement. But we have some things to settle first.”

“Let go of me.” Trying to mollify him, she added, “Then we can talk.”

“I regret we were interrupted earlier before I could demonstrate that I am more than enough man for you. I will remedy that now.”

“What?” she cried, pushing on his arms, but they remained locked around her like a vise. “You’re out of your bloody mind if you think we’re going to have sex—”

He squeezed her waist, and her breath whooshed out. He spoke quietly into her ear. “Let me tell you how this is going to unfold, dearest. First, I am going to punish you for refusing me earlier tonight. Then we are going to finish what we started. You need to be taught how truly compatible we are.”

He kissed her on the neck, and she shivered, revulsion making her skin crawl.

“We’re not compatible. Now let me go.”

He tsked and gave her a little shake. “I will have to train that out of you—your regrettable tendency to lie. We both know you were on the verge of climaxing under my firm hand. I only needed another minute and you would have accepted the truth…that we are perfect for each other, in and out of bed.”

“I was not about to—”

He pinched her nipple hard through her blouse, causing her to squeal.

“Do not lie to me,” he said, sounding weirdly calm. “We will go forward with our plans to get married, and it will be the best of both worlds, dearest. In public, you will be my perfect, respectable wife. In private—” He chuckled, gently squeezing the same breast he’d just pinched. “In private, we will continue to play wicked games at Club Exotica. I have learned I like topping, after all. Well, topping you, anyway.”

She was staggered, her mind as assaulted as her body. He seemed to believe every word he was uttering. Without thinking, she taunted, “Did you forget, in all your fine plans, that your membership’s been revoked?”

He twisted her nipple in retaliation, and she clenched her jaw against the pain.

“You, my slutty fiancée, will get me readmitted. With smiling sincerity, you will inform them it was all a big misunderstanding. You will apologize and grovel and do whatever you must, but you will get me back in the doors of Club Exotica.”

She jerked and twisted in his arms, but he wasn’t budged. Where did all his strength come from? He’d never demonstrated it before.

“Let go of me!” she yelled, trying again to break free.

His vacant smile filled her vision as she struggled fruitlessly in his grip.

“Do not be in such a hurry. We will get to the fun momentarily. I only wish you would have let me know sooner that you like kink, then none of tonight’s unpleasantness need have happened.”

“You’re delusional!” Disgust tasted sour on her tongue, like spoiled milk, and curdled her stomach. Remembering how she’d tried over and over to make their love life more exciting, she grew furious that he now criticized her for not being forthright in her sexual needs.

“You’re acting crazy. Let me go!” she yelled.

“Oh, excellent. If you do not want to talk, let us get straight to the fun, shall we?” He grabbed hold of her wrist and started to pull her to the kitchen.

“For the last time, we’re not going to make love tonight, or ever again.”

He gave her a condescending, creepy smile that made her gut clench in fear.

Finally realizing he was dead serious, she began to fight him with all her might, kicking and thrashing. Pulling her arm free, she swung her fist to hit him in the face.

He ducked and, with a sharp yank, pulled her against him. He grabbed her arm, thrusting it behind her back, and twisted the other behind, as well, locking both in one of his hands. He took the opportunity to fondle her breasts with his free hand.

“Quite right,” he taunted. “I would not call what we are about to do making love, my dearest. You do not want sweet romance. Remember? But now I know what you need, sexually.” He slid his hand down and pinched her cunt.

“Stop! Stop this madness!” She fought with all her might to free herself, but he held her tight. “Please stop.”

Looking off into the distance, almost as if he weren’t talking to her but to someone else who only existed in his mind, he mumbled, “I understand now. My dearest needs a master in order to enjoy sex. I am happy to oblige. I even brought the appropriate tools.” He gestured grandly with his free hand toward the kitchen. “I keep a kit in my trunk for just such occasions, and now I can bring my dearest great pleasure.”

She ceased struggling and stared in horror at the kitchen table. A large black duffel bag lay on the floor, but what made her gasp and her stomach turn were the items arrayed in perfect precision across the tabletop—everything needed for her own private horror show. Every type of instrument for bondage, discipline, and sadism lay before her—a black leather mask, ball gag, whip, flogger, cat-o’-nine-tails, rope, handcuffs, spreader, and more. Standing upright were an assortment of dildos, some outrageously large. There were more objects she didn’t recognize, but they all looked…painful.

Shocked, she swiveled around to stare at him. His inflamed, excited visage made her gag.

It hit her with crushing force, mind-numbing fear washing over her in cold sweeping waves. He was totally bonkers! The insight would have knocked her to the ground had he not been holding her against him.

“Help!” she screamed. “Someone help me! Call the police!”

She knew it was useless. The very feature she liked about the flat—its super-thick, soundproof walls—had become her enemy. She started screaming again anyway.

Rupert shook her violently. “Stop this childish behavior. You do not need to pretend to fight me in order to earn the discipline you crave.” He chuckled. “Trust me. You have already earned considerable punishment for getting me thrown out of the club.”

“You are insane!”

Making a tsking sound, he started to pull her toward the table. “There are many things I want to do to you. We will resume our liaison as if nothing has happened. We will experiment and find out exactly what type of pain most arouses you. I want to make you happy, dearest.”

She shoved against him with all her strength, but he dragged her inexorably closer to the array of agony. Even knowing her neighbors couldn’t hear her, she screamed for help over and over. Her throat burned from the force of her fear.

“This would all be much easier if you would assume your new role as my slave without such false protest, but I understand you better than you think. You need this show of resistance to make it more real for you.”

He let go of her with one hand to swipe a pair of handcuffs from the table, and she used that moment to shriek and swing at him, using every ounce of her strength.

He ducked again, chuckling, before saying as if nothing was amiss, “Actually, I think the breaking in will be lots of fun, too.”

A sound startled them both, and they froze.

A second ahead of him, she realized someone had knocked on her front door. She screamed.

Rupert dropped the cuffs to slap his palm across her mouth.

Yelling joined the pounding. “Tori! Hello, are you all right?”

Ian!

Thank god! It was Ian!

Relief washed over her in revitalizing waves.

She fought Rupert with a renewed burst of energy, knowing help was just outside the door. She tried to twist her mouth away to yell, but he pulled her tight against his chest, his palm firmly cupping her chin and covering her lips. She couldn’t even open her mouth to bite his hand. Her cries turned to muffled moans.

“Shh, dearest,” he whispered. “I know the rape play is arousing you, but we do not want to be disturbed, do we? That would ruin our game.”

Shite! The man was completely insane!

Wrapped in his arms, his palm across her face, she gathered all her strength and kicked his shin with her heel. He grunted but didn’t let go. In her frantic struggle, thankfully a kitchen chair fell over with a crash.

Loud pounding and yelling resumed from the hallway.

She finally managed to free one hand. She grabbed her attacker’s crotch and squeezed. He grunted, his hand slipping from her mouth.

“Help, Ian! Help me!” she screamed with everything in her.

Rupert doubled over from the pain but still held tightly to one of her hands. She kicked him in the face, and he fell backward, finally releasing her.

She streaked to the door, knowing he was following right behind. He caught up as she reached it and grabbed one of her arms, but she managed to turn the lock and yank the door open before he could pull her away again. He started backing her toward the kitchen.

Ian burst through, looking about wildly, and ran to her as she continued to cry out for him. Johnny rushed in right behind him, walkie-talkie in hand, telling her the building manager was on his way up.

Ian charged closer, pulling his fist back for a blow, and finally Rupert released her.

Launching herself into Ian’s strong arms, she let him gently hug her and whisper calming nothings into her ear. For a long moment, she stood there panting with her face buried in his chest, feeling his secure warmth, feeling safety return and the world righting itself. She moved to gaze up at him, giving him a small, wavering smile.

Then she glared back at Rupert over her shoulder. He’d already resumed the easy stance and aura of a man of wealth and privilege. Although he was panting and slightly red-faced, his expression had turned blasé, as if bored.

Ian gently moved her behind his body and addressed Rupert. “What in the hell were you doing to her?” He glanced back at the doorman. “I think you should call the police.”

Standing tall and confident as only one born to the manor can, Rupert addressed the doorman. “Nonsense. Johnny. You know me. I would never hurt my fiancée. It is just a small misunderstanding. You can go now.”

“No fucking way!” snarled Ian. “I’m not sure what exactly was going on, but clearly you were not here by invitation. Tori was screaming and the chair’s been knocked over.” He didn’t take his eyes off Rupert, but repeated, “Johnny, call the police.”

Tori looked back at her doorman, who hovered uncertainly behind them. “I’m sorry I let Lord Bridlington into your flat,” he said. “When he told me you two were engaged, I never thought—” Johnny looked stricken.

“It’s okay, Johnny, it’s not your fault.” Pushing free of Ian’s arms, she said, “See? I’m fine. Nothing to worry about. But for the record, Lord Bridlington and I are not engaged, and he is never to be given access to my flat again. I want my locks changed immediately.”

“Yes, of course. I really am sorry.”

“I should have informed the building staff we’d broken up, but I never thought it would be an issue.”

Johnny wouldn’t meet her gaze, his eyes repeatedly darting to the kitchen table. His face blanched. Then he turned bright red.

She glanced back at all the obscene BDSM paraphernalia, mortified. “Those are all Rupert’s. He was planning to—I mean, he wanted to—”

“I didn’t see anything, Justice Whittingstall, and I promise I’ll never say a word to anyone. All of our residents are promised the utmost privacy and discretion.” He still wouldn’t make eye contact with her. “I promise I’ll keep your secret.”

“It’s not my—”

Rupert strutted forward as if he owned the place. “Very good.” Slipping a fifty-pound note into Johnny’s hand, he murmured approvingly, “Of course we can count on you to keep Dame Victoria’s affairs private. This is a fine building, and I’m sure you want to keep your position.”

“Wait a minute!” She started forward, but Rupert was already ushering Johnny out the open door and telling him to cancel the manager’s call.

The doorman tipped his hat to her and repeated one last time, “I didn’t see anything.” He bolted out to the hallway, and Rupert shut the door behind him.

She stood there glaring at Rupert, exhaustion and uncertainty abruptly swamping her. She felt cold. So very cold.

“I think you should leave, Rupert. And take your…things with you,” she mumbled, finding words difficult.

“What?” demanded Ian, lurching toward her. “We need to call the police. He’s dangerous! He broke into your home!”

Once again, Ian gently wrapped her in his arms, and she let him. She leaned back, needing his warmth.

Was Ian right? Should she report Rupert?

He looked harmless enough now, the innocuous, milquetoast ex-boyfriend once again. She tried to think it through, but it all seemed fuzzy, as if she’d been scrabbling and clawing her way out of a morass for too long.

She was so damned tired.

She looked up at Ian and suddenly wondered why he was here…?

He seemed far away, even though she stood in the strong circle of his arms. Everything seemed far away. There were too many questions.

Rupert seized the opening, smiling benignly at her. “There’s no need to call the police. We’re old friends, and I thought you wanted the naughty play. You asked for it over and over in the past. Remember, Victoria? You know I would never want to hurt you. It was just a misunderstanding.”

That penetrated the misty fog of her mind. “A misunderstanding?” she demanded. Rousing herself, she pushed away from Ian and strode up to Rupert. Glaring, she stated unequivocally, “You planned to use those instruments on me against my will. You planned to rape me. I have bruises on my wrists to prove it. You need to be stopped.”

Without taking her eyes off Rupert, she said, “Ian, ring the police.”

Ian pulled his mobile from his pocket, but Rupert said quickly, “And tell them what?” His voice dripped condescension. “That two members of Club Exotica got carried away playing outside the club?”

“That’s not what—”

“If I go down, so do you. Nothing happened here. Not really.” His tone turned dark and menacing. “But if you call the police, I’ll make sure the press learns all about High Court Judge Whittingstall’s filthy BDSM habits, and every bloody detail from your slag wear to your predilection for being tied down and whipped. Everything you’ve worked so hard to achieve will evaporate before your eyes.”

Stricken, she feared Rupert would follow through with his threats. She glanced at Ian. “Wait.”

Ian looked inclined to ignore her.

Rupert lobbed another punch. “You won’t be the only one to suffer. Your young man will be the star of our seedy little story. The paparazzi will hound him constantly, wanting all the sordid details.” Rupert sounded almost gleeful.

“You can’t harm me,” Ian retorted, but he stopped dialing in response to her pleading look.

Rupert looked smug. “No? I’ve learned all about you, Ian King. The press will eat up stories about a rising young barrister’s dalliances with slutty cougars. All your society matrons aren’t going to like having their reputations sullied.” Rupert snorted. “You’ll be lucky if you can get work chasing ambulances.”

“You can’t involve innocent women just to get even with me,” Tori cried.

“And as for you, Victoria, you looked beautiful all trussed up and being carried through the club as my slave. Lots of witnesses saw you smiling and laughing. No one will believe I wasn’t here tonight by your invitation. So, go ahead, call the police.”

“I could still press charges.” But even she heard the lack of conviction in her threat. “However, all I want from you is your promise to leave me alone. I don’t ever want to see or hear from you again. If you’ll agree to that stipulation, I’ll let you go without calling the police.”

She watched him closely. Clearly, Rupert had thought he’d be able to find a way back into her life. Reluctantly, he nodded agreement and began to pack up his equipment.

She looked at Ian. He obviously still wanted to call the police. He may have betrayed her by leaving the club with another woman, but she didn’t want his career destroyed just because her ex-boyfriend was a lunatic.

“Tori, you can’t let him get away with this,” Ian said, placing a hand on her arm.

She brushed it off. “He would do it,” she whispered. “He would ruin both of us and other innocent women, too.”

“He’s bluffing,” Ian insisted. “He has a reputation to preserve, too.”

“Wait until he’s gone, and we’ll talk about it.” With a jerk of her head she indicated Rupert, who had a few more things to pack up.

Ian looked angry, ready to argue, but he gave her a brusque nod and slid his mobile back into his pocket. They watched as Rupert pulled the zipper closed on the large duffel and hefted the strap over his shoulder.

At the front door, he turned back to face them. “It isn’t over between us, Victoria. I expect you to get me back into the club.”

“Fucking hell!” growled Ian. “That’s not happening.” He started forward, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm.

She wanted Rupert gone more than anything else.

Ian resisted her gentle pull, but he let Rupert go, telling him, “If I ever hear of you hurting another woman, you’ll regret it. I have lots of contacts in this city, and I’ll be watching you.”

Rupert stood by the door looking down his nose at Ian. “You arrogant little nothing. You seem to forget who I am.”

Drawing on an inner strength she hadn’t known she possessed, Tori spoke with thundering gravitas. “Hear me now, you little weasel. You’re getting away with an attempted crime, but I most certainly will not get you entry to a club I intend to frequent…often.”

She didn’t actually plan to go back, but she wanted to rub it in that he couldn’t go.

Looking down her nose at him—a difficult feat given her smaller size—she continued, “Reputation be damned, I’ll ruin you if you so much as try to get back into that or any other club where you can hurt women. Consider yourself lucky you got off this easy.” Her voice rose to a near shout. “Now get the bloody hell out of my flat!”

Rupert gave her a skin-crawling smile one last time. “We’ll see about that.”

Then he turned and left.

Once the door slammed shut, Ian rounded on her. “You can’t let him get away with this. What he tried to do to you—it’s a crime, and you need to report him. What if he tries again?”

Tori felt suddenly ill and unstable. She wavered as if standing on a rocking sailboat. She tried to summon some of her remaining gravitas, but her mental fuzziness came roaring back. And she was cold. So cold!

“Rupert’s crazy. At least where I’m concerned.” Her own voice sounded mumbly and far away. “I believe he’d follow through on his threats and ruin our reputations.”

“We’ll deny you were ever at the club. The staff won’t corroborate what he says. Hell, the club won’t even verify it exists.”

“Rupert has lost his membership and his security deposit. If his reputation was also damaged, he’d have nothing left to lose. He’d definitely bring us both down. Reporting him is too big a risk.”

“I’m not sure he would actually do it. Many very important people are club members. If Bridlington does anything to expose them or the club, he must realize there will be grave consequences.”

“He’s a powerful man in his own right.”

“Not that powerful. Trust me, there are kingpins on both sides of the law who are members. They all like dancing, bonking, and getting wild behind the anonymous safety of their masks. Bridlington would endanger his life if he caused them trouble. Look. It’s not about getting revenge. I’m concerned for your safety. You need to make sure he can’t hurt you again.”

“I don’t think…” It was getting hard to speak. “He doesn’t want his name ruined.”

Ian grimaced thoughtfully. “How about this instead…? Let me approach one of the club owners. He’s a friend of mine. He has a reputation for taking care of unpleasant situations. Since it’s his club potentially at risk, I think he’d be willing to make sure Rupert is kept in a box, figuratively speaking.”

“What could the owner do?”

“I don’t know. But trust me, Fletcher’s not a man anyone wants to cross.”

Relief made her shoulders sag. That way it would be out of her hands. “Sure. Go ahead and box Rupert up. But I don’t want to hear the details.”

Ian nodded. “It might take time, but we can relax knowing you’ll be safe.”

It all seemed like a big muddle and suddenly not all that important. She wanted to ask Ian why he’d left her at the club that way. But she was too tired to deal with it tonight. “Now it’s your turn to leave.” She pointed toward the door, shivering.

Ian frowned. “You said we’d talk.”

She waved a hand. “Not gonna talk. I just needed you here until Rupert left. Now I want you to go.”

She looked over at him, but he seemed far away, like she was looking backward through a telescope. The floor seemed really far away, too. The whole room seemed suddenly cloudy and dark.

She started to crumple.

Ian jumped forward, catching her and sweeping her into his arms. “Good lord. I think you’re going into shock.”

Barely audible, she mumbled, “Put me down.”

“Hell, no. You’re shaking. Here, I’ll put you on the sofa.” He gently lowered her onto the cushions. Before her eyes drifted closed, she noticed his gaze taking in her flat.

She should order him out. But she was so tired—she needed to rest for a moment. If only she weren’t so very cold. She trembled uncontrollably as a reassuring nothingness started to take over her mind.

A heavy blanket was tucked about her. Still she shivered, but then a warm body settled next to her, drawing her against its heat. She was floating in a disjointed, half-aware state, but she knew instinctively it was Ian. Despite everything, she knew he would keep her safe. She knew it deep in her soul.

Her gut-clenching, gut-wrenching shivering started to slow.

Then she felt nothing at all as she lost herself in empty, black sleep.