Author: Roni Loren

They rode into the city, Evan providing a steady stream of chitchat to keep Kelsey’s mind from spiraling down into the pit too far. But by the time the driver had stopped in front of the city’s swankiest shopping district, the concerns were starting to tiptoe in again like thieves trying to hijack her remaining resolve.

Evan directed Kelsey into the first shop, where a young brunette flashed them a perfectly practiced smile and led them to a private dressing area that had posh leather couches, champagne, and a tray of canapés set up for them. She motioned to the space like a Vanna White wannabe. “Mr. Austin let us know what types of things you’d need for your upcoming trip, Ms. LeBreck. So our stylist took the liberty of assembling some outfits for you to try on. He said you preferred classic lines with an edge of sexiness. Obviously, if these don’t work, we can go through the store and pull some more looks for you.”

Kelsey stared at the racks of dresses and outfits that lined the far wall of the room. Next to them, accessories were set out on a table, grouped by color and level of dressiness. She cleared her throat. “Um, thank you. I’m sure I’ll be able to find what I need. This looks great.”

The girl beamed as if she’d personally designed all the clothes in the room. “Would you like me to help you get started?”

Evan glanced at Kelsey, then back at the girl. “I think we’re okay right now. But we’ll call for you if we need any assistance.”

The girl nodded and breezed out, leaving Kelsey and Evan behind with the clothes, champagne, and classical music.

Evan shook her head, watching the door close behind the girl. “I can’t believe people actually get to shop like this.”

“Seriously.” Kelsey walked over to the rack of dresses, reaching out to feel the jewel-colored fabrics, the luxurious material gliding over her fingers. Handwritten price tags hung from each one, some costing more than her monthly rent. She grabbed one tag, running her thumb over the outrageous number.

“I can hear you panicking,” Evan said, stepping behind her. “You okay?”

Kelsey peeked back over her shoulder. “You do mindreading on the side?”

Evan sent her a sympathetic smile. “Sorry. I live with two doms. I’ve picked up on a few things. You went all stiff.”

Kelsey dropped the price tag and let a shimmery cocktail dress slide over her hand. It was all . . . so much. Too much. She headed to the side table with the champagne, but moved past the alcohol and grabbed a sparkling water instead. “I’ll be all right. I think it’s starting to set in that I’m actually going to do this.”

“Which part?” she asked, her pale blue eyes showing true concern.

Kelsey took a long gulp of water. “How much did Wyatt tell you?”

She shrugged, a bit sheepish. “He didn’t give me details, but I sort of relentlessly pestered Jace until he spilled the whole arrangement. Sorry?”

Kelsey shook her head, having no doubt how persuasive someone like Evan could be. “It’s fine. I’m just worried that I’m in over my head and that the people at the retreat are going to see right through me.” She leaned against the back of a settee, not having the energy to put up a front with Evan. “A year ago, I was spinning around poles and shaking my ass for tips—though I haven’t quite shared that with Wyatt yet. So this is like a foreign country with people speaking a different language. I don’t want to be humiliated, and I definitely don’t want to embarrass Wyatt. Those people—”

“Are just people who happen to have more money in their bank account,” Evan finished. She sat down on the couch, frown lines creasing her forehead. “I don’t know how much you know about me, but I wasn’t born with money either. I was a foster kid and was on the streets for a while. I also spent almost a year living with Jace and Wyatt’s family when I was a teenager. So I went from nothing to the McMansion. And I remember never feeling so out of place in my life.”

Kelsey sat down, the revelation shocking her. Evan always seemed so put together, so refined. She’d been a street kid? Then another thought hit her. She’d lived with Jace and Wyatt. “So you and Jace, back then?”

She smiled a little. “Long story. But what I realized pretty quickly was that money doesn’t protect people from problems, it just hides them better from the public eye. Everybody is playing some role when out in society. And most are so busy keeping up their own airs that they aren’t looking so closely at yours. So as long as you smile, make small talk, and act confident, you’ll blend in.”

Kelsey sipped her water. “You make it sound so easy.”

She shrugged. “It can be. I think your bigger challenge is going to be once that hotel room door shuts with Wyatt. That’s where you can’t fake it.”

Kelsey fiddled with the cap of her bottle. “It’s only for a week.”

Evan gave a conspiratorial smile. “Sure. Now let’s get you undressed. So many outfits, so little time. And after this, we still need to get shoes, beach wear, and make a stop by the lingerie boutique.”

“Lingerie?”

“Mmm-hmm. Lots of it. I thought Wyatt was Mr. Conservative. But based on the list he gave me, he’s more like his brother than I thought.”

Kelsey’s skin heated at the thought of Wyatt selecting what undergarments he wanted to see her in. “I have a feeling there’s a lot more to Wyatt than anyone thought.”

Evan’s grin turned sly. “Scared of what you might find out about him?”

“Yes.”

More scared of what she may find out about herself.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Wyatt sat at his kitchen table Friday afternoon and flipped through the profiles of the retreat attendees that his assistant had researched and compiled for him this week. He scanned each guest’s business, hobbies, and personal causes. Hollis Myers: CEO of movie theater chain, plays a lot of cards (blackjack not poker), donates regularly to the American Cancer Society and the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children. Cam Berthelot: head of natural gas drilling company, enjoys deep-sea fishing, has a second home in Florida, and donates to the Red Cross. Belle Pritchard: owner of bridal shop chain and wedding planning business, big into supporting local small business owners, and donates to grassroots organizations and an LGBT legal defense fund.

Wyatt scribbled a few notes, but those were mainly for Kelsey. He knew some of these people already. And for the ones he didn’t, his memory had always been photographic so he wouldn’t need a cheat sheet after reading through the list a time or two. But the more each of them knew about the guests, the better shot they had at making relevant conversation and engaging them. People liked to talk about themselves; you just have to give them an opening and a topic. The hard part for him was always the talking-back portion. He didn’t know how to fill space with airy chitchat. He usually ended up talking business, which made people’s eyes glaze over, or he’d make some obscure movie reference and no one would get it. He’d learned early in life that keeping that shit to yourself was much wiser than getting that what-the-fuck-is-he-talking-about? look.

His cell phone rang, buzzing against the table and breaking through the silence of the empty house. The name of his driver flashed on the screen. He hit the speaker button. “What’s going on, Henry?”

“Ms. LeBreck declined my offer to be picked up,” he informed him with that to-the-point tone of his.

Wyatt glanced up from his paperwork, a sinking feeling in his gut. So he’d been right to worry. Kelsey had changed her mind. “I see. Did she say why?”

“I had informed her of your requested itinerary of dinner out and then a return to your home. She said she had a few errands to run first and wanted your address so she could drive herself directly. She was rather insistent.”

Wyatt blinked. “She’s still coming?”

“Of course, Mr. Austin. I just wanted to inform you of the change in plans. She didn’t give me an indication of what time she’d be arriving. I didn’t want you to be caught off guard.”

Wyatt leaned back in the chair, more relieved than he cared to admit. “Thank you, Henry. I’ll be sure to be prepared for her.”

“You’re welcome, sir. Do you need anything else from me this evening?”

“No, just plan to be here tomorrow to bring us to the airport.”

“Yes, sir. Have a nice evening.”

Wyatt hit the end button, took off his glasses, and ran a hand over his face before putting them back on. So Kelsey had decided to alter his prescribed plans from the very start. The move both perturbed and intrigued him. They hadn’t made the formal transition into the D/s roles yet, but he’d tried to get her primed for the mindset the last time he saw her as well as with his very precise instructions on her shopping trip. He had no idea if her little rebellion tonight was an intentional statement of her independence or just a way for her to hold on to the last of her freedom before she surrendered to him.

He turned toward the triad of windows to his right and stared out over the expanse of his pool and backyard, anticipation rolling through him. Tonight was going to be a test of sorts. For both of them. If it went well, they’d leave for the trip tomorrow with a new confidence. If it didn’t, he’d have to revert to the original plan and pay her to accompany him, no training or touching involved. Thunder rumbled through the quiet kitchen, pulling him back to the view. It’d been raining off and on all day, a cold front coming through. Now the clouds hung low overhead, blocking out the last rays of the afternoon sun, and the wind had begun to rattle the early fall leaves off the trees.

Maybe they’d be better off not going out tonight. Things looked like they were about to get pretty nasty outside. His gaze flicked to the clock on the oven. He grabbed his phone and scrolled through his numbers, looking for the one he’d recently added.

Kelsey answered on the second ring, road noise and pattering rain in the background. “Hello?”

“Where are you?” he asked, skipping past niceties.

“Uh . . . in the middle of a blinding storm at the moment. But if I followed directions correctly, I’m pretty close to your place.”

He frowned, a clap of thunder outside his window signaling the start of the onslaught. “You should have let Henry drive you. I don’t want you out in this.”

“I’m fine. There’s just a lot of water on this road all of a sudden, so I’m taking it slow. I can handle a little storm.”

“Kelsey, if there’s water on the road, you need to turn around. The neighborhoods around here flashflood easily with the lake nearby. There’s no way to tell how deep it is.”

“I think it’s—” There was a strange whining sound in the background. Then a string of curses.

“What’s wrong?”

“Can I take back what I said? I think my car just stalled out.”

“Christ.” He shoved his chair back from the table, almost toppling it in his rush. “Tell me where you’re at. I’m coming to get you.”

“Um, wait, shit, I’m not sure. I can barely see anything,” she said, the pattering in the background now blending with the sheets of rain banging against his kitchen windows. “I think the next cross street ahead is supposed to be Briarpatch.”

Hell, right by the golf course. That spot was notorious for flooding. “What kind of car do you drive?”

“It’s a ninety-nine white Honda Civic.”

“All right. Stay put for now. I’m only ten minutes away. If the water looks like it’s rising, get out of the car and onto higher ground.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to—”

“Not your fault. Just hold tight. And keep your phone close.” He hung up the call and strode toward the garage, grabbing a set of keys off the pegboard in the laundry room and pulling on a jacket. His car wouldn’t be any better than hers in the water, but his housekeeper’s son had been working on an old Jeep and had asked to store it at Wyatt’s. The paint job wasn’t done yet, but Wyatt knew the kid had gotten the engine in shape last month. If this helped him get Kelsey out of this situation safely, he’d buy the guy that paint job.