Dominated: A Kinky Adult Fairy Tale (Bedding the Bad Girl Book 4) Page 5

  But then again, why shouldn’t she? The guy was even shorter in real life than he looked in photographs, well under five and a half feet, even with the strange little fedora he had left on his head.

  Once he had taken off his bulky overcoat, he was downright scrawny, so scrawny that he seemed reluctant to remove his oversized gray t-shirt. It trailed down over the loincloth that hung limply around his thin, hairless, almost feminine-looking legs.

  Scratch that, very feminine-looking legs.

  “Shit,” Frank cursed, beginning to smell a rat. His gut was screaming that something was wrong, a feeling that was confirmed when Nate came scurrying into his hiding place.

  “Captain, there’s another one!” Nate’s face was pale and sweat beaded on his mostly hairless upper lip. “There’s another stalker in a hat down in the lobby right now. We managed to stall him—had a janitor say the elevator was broken—but he’ll be here soon. It’s only ten flights up the stairs.”

  “All right, cover me.” Frank darted a quick look at the surveillance monitor to see that stalker number one was still a safe distance from Eleanor before he armed his weapon and made for the door.

  “Should we stop the second one, sir?” Nate asked.

  “Not unless we have to,” Frank returned. “Use your judgment, Officer. If I don’t have the situation under control in time, take him into custody.”

  “Will do, sir,” Nate said.

  “I knew it!” Eleanor suddenly shouted.

  “Freeze, Queen’s Guard,” Frank bellowed as he burst into the room, nearly dropping his gun when he found his mark.

  It was Queen Cynthia, live and in the flesh.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Frank

  What the holy hell was going on?

  “Captain Frank?” Cindy squeaked. Her blonde hair spilled out in a mad tangle from the cap she had whipped off her head and her big blue eyes began to tear. Her bottom lip quivered and her hand trembled, a fact that wouldn’t have worried him if that hand hadn’t been holding a silver revolver trained on Eleanor’s chest.

  “Put the gun down, Cynthia,” Frank said, dropping the “Queen” before her name. The less power she thought she had, the better. He had no idea why she would try to murder her stepmother on the same night she sent him on a mission to save her, but he wouldn’t be an accessory to whatever she had planned.

  He would take her down like he would take down any other criminal, especially one foolish enough to threaten someone he considered under his protection. Whether it made sense or not, Eleanor was now on his short list of people that were under his wing— no matter what the law or the queen had to say about it.

  “I thought you were going to be here tomorrow,” Cynthia sobbed, tears flowing down her face.

  “Put the gun down. Now,” Frank ordered as he positioned himself between the two women.

  “You still haven’t learned to use a day planner?” Eleanor clucked her tongue. “You really should get organized if you plan to start killing people. Time management makes murder so much more manageable.”

  “Shut up!” Cindy shouted at Eleanor, her face twisting with rage. “Just shut up. You aren’t always right.”

  “Cynthia, if you don’t put that gun down right now, I will shoot,” Frank said, hoping his tone would convince her that he was serious.

  “But you’re supposed to be on my side.” Cindy sniffed, her eyes filling again.

  “Yeah, Frank, can’t you just help your queen kill me like you’re supposed to?” Eleanor mocked, not showing nearly as much concern for her own welfare as he would like. Badgering an unstable teen who was holding a gun aimed at her heart wasn’t the wisest course of action.

  “Eleanor, be quiet,” he ordered.

  “I wasn’t going to kill her, Frank. I could never kill anyone. You have to believe me.” Cynthia dropped the gun as she dissolved into another fit of tortured sobs. Covering her face with her hands, she sank to the floor where she proceeded to curl into a ball on her side, looking pathetic in her oversized t-shirt and man-sized diaper.

  But pathetic-looking or not, he wasn’t going to breathe easier until that gun was out of her reach.

  Quickly, Frank crossed to her and kicked the gun to the far side of the room, unmoved by the wide, tear-filled eyes she blinked up at him from the floor. She was a beautiful girl, angelically so, but he had finally gotten a look at the brat that lurked beneath the pretty surface. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen through her sooner. He’d always prided himself on being a good judge of character.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt her,” Cynthia pleaded. “You have to believe me.”

  “She just thought I’d look better with a few bullet holes for decoration,” Eleanor quipped behind him.

  “Eleanor, please,” Frank said.

  “I’m sorry. This is how I handle being scared,” Eleanor said, her voice rising before she broke off with a shaky breath.

  Shit. Pretty soon he was going to have two crying females on his hands and the real red light stalker popping in to the waiting room. He had to establish order before they lost the chance to catch their second suspect. They could all sit down and try to figure out what the hell was going on with the queen after that was accomplished.

  “Get up, Cynthia. Now,” he ordered. “Eleanor, do your best to get it together, okay? The real guy is on his way up.”

  She blinked. “The real guy? What real guy?”

  “We’ve got another suspect on the way. Cynthia might not be our girl, or she might not be working alone.” He reached down, hauling a freshly sobbing Cindy to her feet.

  Eleanor’s hand pressed against her stomach. “You mean there’s someone else who wants to kill me?”

  “He doesn’t want to kill you,” Cindy said, her voice laced with a healthy dose of bitterness. “He’s in lust with you.”

  “What?” Eleanor asked, her big brown eyes growing even wider.

  “He who?” Frank asked, pulling the queen across the room toward the east dressing room. They were running short on time, and he had to make her disappear before the man she was talking about made it to the tenth floor.

  “The k-k-k…” Cindy stuttered, the resurgence of her tears making it impossible to understand what she was trying to say.

  “Tell me his name,” Frank demanded, giving the girl a sharp shake. “Help me and maybe you won’t go to jail for the rest of your life.”

  “I’m the queen,” she sobbed hysterically. “I’m still the queen.”

  “You’re not going to live to be queen of anything unless you start talking,” Frank whispered, letting the full force of his anger show in his eyes.

  Cindy gulped and her tears cut off with a suddenness that made Frank doubt their sincerity.

  “Talk,” he growled. “Now. Quickly.”

  “The prince— I mean, King Robert, my husband, he’s in love with Eleanor, or in lust with her anyway,” she said, continuing when Frank gave her a slight shake. “He started writing her those letters, but I didn’t know. When I heard about the stalker I just thought Eleanor was in trouble, and I wanted to help. But when the guards brought in the picture yesterday, I saw the coat I’d given Robert. I had it handmade, so I knew it had to be him.”

  “You’re serious.” Eleanor sank down onto the red couch with a horrified look.

  Good, she should be horrified by the thought of any man but me wanting to touch her.

  The thought flew through Frank’s mind before he had the chance to consider what little right he had to stake a claim. Still, the king had no right, either, and if what Cynthia was saying was the truth, their entire kingdom was getting ready to be turned upside-down. Not even a monarch could get away with this kind of craziness.

  “Is there anything else we should know, Cynthia? Quickly, we’re almost out of time,” Frank urged, his tone gentling.

  She was talking, no need to scare her into another round of tears.

  “I searched his room and found his journal,” Cindy said. �
�He did the red light stalker thing to cover his tracks. He’s going to kidnap Eleanor and make it look like she was murdered. Then he’s going to take her back to the castle. He has a secret room in the west wing all ready for her. I found the key. He’s going to keep her there and have sex with her! In my own house! With my stepmother!” Cindy finished with a horrified gasp, obviously feeling more sorry for herself than Eleanor, the woman who would have become the king’s unwilling sex slave.

  The girl was a piece of work, no doubt about it.

  “Do you still have the journal?” Frank asked.

  “It’s in my coat in the dressing room,” Cindy said, clearly trying to be helpful. “I can go get it if you want.”

  “Captain?” Nate whispered urgently from the door of the dressing room.

  “We’ll get it later. Take her.” Frank shoved Cynthia toward the door.

  “The queen?” Nate asked, looking uncertainly from Frank to Cynthia and back again, clearly torn.

  “Keep her in there and don’t take your eyes off of her. Don’t let her scream or talk or cry. Gag her if you have to,” Frank ordered, his eyes holding those of his subordinate until he knew that Nate would obey him. “She’s in the custody of the state until Parliament decides her guilt or innocence.”

  “Where will you be?” Nate took Cynthia gently, but firmly, by the upper arm.

  “I’ll be right here,” Frank said, crossing to Eleanor. “If what Cynthia is saying is the truth, we have enough evidence. We’ll let him walk in here and I’ll take care of him myself. Eleanor, you go with Nate.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Yes, you are. I—”

  “Frank, we don’t know if Cindy is telling the truth, if there really is a journal or what it says. I don’t want to take the risk of one or both of them getting away with this,” she said, her eyes pleading with him to understand.

  “I don’t want you to get hurt,” Frank protested, though he knew she was right. It was exactly what he would have said himself, if he were thinking with his right mind.

  But he wasn’t, he was acting on emotion. How could he allow Eleanor to put herself in danger when he was still so shaken by seeing a gun trained on her heart? He didn’t want to risk her safety, even to put away a man who obviously shouldn’t be allowed to remain in power if the accusations against him were true.

  “I won’t get hurt, and you’ll be just a few feet away, right?”

  “Right,” he said, the trust in her eyes making his stomach knot. She had faith that he would keep her safe. Now he had to make sure he proved worthy of her trust.

  “Then I’ll be fine,” she said with a smile. “Now scram before I get nervous and change my mind.”

  “You can still change your mind, you—”

  “I won’t. I trust you.” She bit her lip. “Is that crazy?”

  “No, it’s not,” he said. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  Not even myself.

  He turned and disappeared into the east dressing room without another word, forcing himself to think about keeping Eleanor safe and nothing else. There would be time to mourn the loss of what could have been between them at a later date.

  He knew now that he couldn’t allow his fantasies involving the woman to become a reality. If they took care of business tonight, Eleanor would have the chance at a real life again. She’d made it clear she didn’t relish working on the wrong side of the tracks. She wouldn’t want to start a relationship with a man who felt that a “kinky” lifestyle was the only one that worked for him.

  Frank had had relationships that didn’t play by the Dom or sub rules, but they hadn’t fulfilled him in the same way. He craved that sexual charge too much to give it up, but he already cared for Eleanor too much to ask her to spend any more time living a lifestyle she resented.

  He would help her regain her life, and then he would remove himself from it. It was the best way he could show his regard for her, even if the thought of never seeing her again tore him up inside.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Eleanor

  Eleanor gripped the whip and turned to face the dressing room door, where the king would supposedly be making his appearance at any moment.

  She knew she should be scared out of her mind, but for some reason she wasn’t. Maybe it was simply that she trusted Frank to keep her safe, or maybe it was because she was still having a hard time believing that Robert planned to kidnap her and make her his love slave.

  It was ludicrous. The guy who had fought tooth and nail to be able to date, and eventually marry, her underage stepdaughter was actually in love with Eleanor and wanted to lock her up in a room and go at it?

  It was just plain weird, and she wouldn’t have bought it if Cindy hadn’t been so hysterical.

  Her stepdaughter was good at many things, but acting wasn’t one of them. The entire kingdom had bought her story of abuse at her stepmother’s hands, but Eleanor had always been able to see through her attempts at deception. No, Cindy genuinely believed what she was saying was the truth.

  Of course, she could be mistaken. She wasn’t the most stable kid and tended to jump to conclusions. But if Robert’s secret journal really existed, there wasn’t much chance of that.

  God, she could go crazy thinking in circles!

  She just had to sit tight for a few more minutes, and then she’d know who was crazy—King Robert or his paranoid new queen.

  “Crap,” she muttered, jumping at the quiet scrape of the outer door of the dressing room swinging open.

  So much for relaxing.

  She held her breath and tried to pretend that this was any other client, even as she struggled to catch the sound of a key in a locker or clothes being removed. Would the king risk getting dressed in the regulation loincloth, or would he just walk in? On the one hand, it made no sense for him to make himself vulnerable, but then maybe he had a sincere desire to wear a diaper in front of a woman in six-inch heels. You never could tell with men, especially men who frequented S&M parlors.

  Which brought an entirely different idea to mind—what if the king were simply here for a routine session? Would she be able to provide her customary fare, knowing that Cindy and Frank and a dozen men were watching? After what had happened between her and Frank tonight, she didn’t know if she would be able to go back to playing the Domme with any conviction.

  It felt too perfect, and oddly powerful, to be the one not in control.

  Or maybe it just felt good to be that person with Frank, to be with Frank, period. She’d never felt such an instant, powerful attraction to a man, and she had to admit she was happy he was one of the good guys. But it wasn’t only the fact that he’d saved her life that made her heart feel strangely light, it was something else, a secret hope that she wasn’t quite ready to name.

  “Hello, my dearest.”

  Eleanor jumped at the familiar voice as her heart dove into her stomach. King Robert was really here. Seeing him in the flesh and hearing him call her “dearest,” was doing wonders for her ability to believe Cindy’s crazy story.

  “Robert, what are you doing here?”

  “It’s good to see you again too,” he said, the edges of his eyes crinkling in a smile that would have seemed friendly if she didn’t know him so well. “Though I would prefer the use of my title, if you wouldn’t mind.”

  “Prince Robert, what are you doing here?”

  “I’m the king now, my sweet.”

  My sweet?

  “I don’t see how you could have missed the ten-day funeral festivities that were held in honor of my mother’s passing.” His tone was light and the steps he took toward the window casual, but the tension in his words was clear. Something was bothering Robert, something more than her lack of respect for his title or position.

  “She was a wonderful woman, I was sorry to hear of your loss,” she said sincerely. The former queen had been wonderful, though too ready to think the best of her louse of a son.

  “It was time f
or her to step aside and allow me to ascend to my rightful place. Her death was as much a celebration as a time of mourning.”

  “Wow. I thought Cindy was ungrateful,” Eleanor said, her limited patience with Robert already exhausted. “But even she had the decency to grieve her father’s death You disgust me, Robert. Tell me why you’re here, or get out.”

  “Watch your mouth,” he said, the muscle in his jaw jumping though he didn’t turn to face her. Instead he took another step toward the window, eyes fixed on the city lights, hands gripping the lapels of his coat like a lifeline. He was definitely on edge, and Eleanor doubted it would take much to push him over.

  “This is my place of business. I don’t have to watch anything except my whip descending on your ass,” Eleanor said. “If you’re here for a session, get back in the dressing room and get dressed appropriately. Otherwise, I’ll call security to come remove you.”

  “If you’re talking about the men at the front, they’re gone. I gave them the night off.”

  Eleanor blinked. “You what?”

  “I thought we would enjoy this time more if we were alone.”

  “Those are my employees. You had no right to give them orders.” Eleanor did her best to ignore the small, frightened voice inside that said the men really were gone, that they had fled upon the order of their king and left her to suffer alone.

  She didn’t know the men or if she could trust them, but she trusted Frank. He wouldn’t abandon her; she knew he wouldn’t.

  How do you know? You’ve only known him for a few hours. You don’t know anything about him, not even his last name.

  “You’re going to be punished, Robert. No man who comes here as a slave takes liberties with my staff.” Eleanor forced away the fear that threatened to consume her. She had to trust Frank. She’d already made the choice; it was too late for second thoughts now.

  “The only person who will be receiving a punishment here today is you, Emily,” Robert said, turning from the window. Slowly, he pulled out a revolver almost identical to the one Cindy had whipped out a few minutes before.