Auctioned to the Gentle Dom [The Spectrum Auctions 5] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 2

  “Is something amusing you, girl?”

  Oh, lordy, he sounds furious.

  Sure enough, when she risked a quick peek up at him from under her fake eyelashes, Logan’s face was set in a stern mask. Jaw clenched, his blue eyes shot daggers of disapproval at her, and when he jerked his head into the direction of the interior of the playroom, Lindsey hastily scooted past him.

  Not waiting for any further instructions, she sunk to her knees in the middle of the room, and willed her breathing to slow down. A useless exercise, because the minute the heavy door whooshed shut, his polished shoes appeared in her vision, and the deep rumble of his voice washed over her.

  “I asked you a question, girl. I expect an answer, or so help me, I’ll give into my original urge to put you over my knee and paddle that behind of yours, until you tell me what the hell you think you are playing at.”

  Too startled by this unusual stern persona of his, Lindsey could do nothing but stare up at him. Right now, he reminded her more of Pedro or Slade then the Logan she remembered visiting her parent’s house. Then again, that had been over ten years ago. A lot had changed since then, not least the fact that he was now a free man.

  Her eyes filled with unwanted tears at the cruel twist of fate that had taken away his Elena, one of Lindsey’s mother’s dearest friends, they had all felt her loss keenly, especially Lindsey. As she’d been away at boarding school when Elena had first fallen ill, she hadn’t seen her again, due to Logan’s decision to seek the best treatment for his wife in the US. They’d stayed in touch via e-mail until the other woman had become too frail to even do that. Lindsey wasn’t sure how much of their communication Logan had been privy to, and now was certainly not the time to ask such a question.

  The fact that Logan had stayed away from the family home, despite repeated invites from both her parents, had to mean something. Perhaps it was simply too painful for him to return to a place that must hold so many memories of happier times for him.

  “I’m sorry, Sir.” The words were out before she could stop them and Logan’s eyebrows drew together in a frown.

  “For what? Elucidate. I’m not a mind-reader.”

  He ran a hand through his dark hair, and not for the first time she noticed how many streaks of grey were now running through it. Of course, on Logan they just added to his sex appeal, and there she went again with the inappropriate thoughts about a man old enough to be her father. That, right there, should have been a huge turn-off, but Logan’s experience just added to the attraction she’d always felt, one that intensified the longer he stared down at her, the more she allowed herself to slip into her submissive headspace. She would so miss all this.

  “Honoraria.”

  One word, guaranteed to shake her up beyond all others, especially delivered in that deep, compelling drawl of his, and she scrambled to her feet and shook her head.

  “No, please, not her. I’m not her, not here, not ever.”

  “Yes, you are, and I want the truth, right now.”

  He freed her hands from her chains, and threw them on the floor.

  “Strip.”

  For the second time this evening, Lindsey’s world shifted on its axis and she stared up at him, lost for words.

  Even with her standing up, he towered over her, and Lindsey felt incredibly small right now. Not a feeling she normally associated with the brash personality she chose to portray in the club. No, this right here was more like she felt at home, where her opinion didn’t matter and she was just a pawn in her father’s power games.

  Not trusting her voice to work, Lindsey shook her head at him, and if that was possible, Logan’s expression grew even more foreboding.

  “No is not your safe word, girl, and let me tell you now. Safewording is not an option here, not until we get the truth, and if you refuse my request, then I’ll be marching you up to Slade and Scarlett right now to tell them who exactly they have been harboring under their roof all this time.”

  A strangled groan escaped Lindsey at those words and a grim smile kicked up one corner of Logan’s full lips as she fumbled with the ties that held her corset together. This should be all her dreams come true, but it felt all wrong. A huff of relief escaped her when his large hand closed over her trembling digits.

  “I don’t mean your clothes,” he said.

  Lindsey’s confusion must have shown in her face, because he lifted the blonde strands of hair off her cleavage, and flicked them over her shoulder.

  “I mean this….whatever this is. I want it off, all of it.”

  Stepping away, he picked up a pack of wet wipes off the top of the spanking bench and handed it to her.

  “Use those to get that muck of your face and start with what I hope like fuck is a wig, and you haven’t dyed your beautiful hair.”

  Her befuddled mind latched onto the beautiful comment. He wouldn’t think her beautiful without all the make-up, that’s for sure. No one ever did.

  She must have stood there too long simply gaping up at him, because Logan sighed, crossed his arms over his chest and raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow at her, which had her scrambling for the fastenings off the wig.

  That was the lesser of the two evils, after all. Dropping her gaze to the way his biceps bunched under the material of his shirt, she eventually managed to get the wig off her head. She let it drop to the floor, and struggled with the knots in her hair.

  “Here, let me.” Her heart skipped a beat when he stepped closer, so close that his body heat warmed her skin, and she wanted nothing more than to sink into his embrace, to let him take care of her, but that could never be. “It’s all tangled. There, that should do it.”

  Closing her eyes, Lindsey gave herself over to the gentle tugging movements of his hand in her hair, as he undid the worst of the knots. His even breaths ghosted across her face as he bent his head closer to the task at hand, and every exhalation brought with it more of his scent. Earthy, primal, masculine, it made her want to beg him to take her, to never let her go, but that was just her stupid fantasies talking. Logan had never paid her teenage self more than polite interest, and even here at the club, he had never pushed her for more, just watched her, the slight crease between his eyes more pronounced as though he was puzzling over something. Seemed he’d known all along who she really was, had just been biding his time.

  A whimper escaped her as he let his talented fingers trail down to the base of her skull and used gentle pressure to tip her head up.

  “You have no idea how glad I am to see you didn’t mess with your natural hair color.” The odd undertone to those murmured words meant she had to open her eyes, and she forgot to breathe under the heated intensity of his gaze. As brief and intense as that moment had been, it passed as he released her, cleared his throat, and when she blinked, the barrier of polite disinterest was back in place. She must have imagined that flare of male interest she’d seen in his eyes.

  Again he handed her the packet of wet wipes, and she jumped when their fingers touched. Logan cleared his throat and took another step away, until he rested his butt on the edge of the spanking bench.

  “Do I have to?” she asked and flinched when Logan crossed his arms over his chest.

  “All of it. I want to see you without that muck on your face.”

  His tone of voice brooked no argument, and giving into the inevitable, Lindsey complied. With every swipe of the wet wipes, another layer of her armor disintegrated until she stood before him, naked, alone, and ugly.

  Hiding behind the silky curtain of her hair, she shied away when he reached out to her.

  “Let me see, little bird.”

  Hearing him call her by the name he’d fashioned for her all those years ago, coupled with his sharp intake of breath as he tucked her hair away to enable him to see, proved too much, and she burst into tears.

  Chapter Two

  Logan swore under his breath, and called himself all sorts of a fucking fool for putting her through this. How the fuck was he su
pposed to know how bad it really was though. Neither Maurice nor Georgina had ever explained the exact nature of their daughter’s scarring, just that she was disfigured and to be hidden from sight, a view that always grated on Logan’s last nerve.

  As though Lindsey had chosen to be thrown off her horse and to become embedded on the iron railings. At the time, Elena and he had been far away, pursuing treatment for her cancer, and while the whole incident had been regrettable, it hadn’t factored high on his radar. His priority had been his sick wife, who would hand him his balls on a plate for what he’d just done to the girl she’d been so fond of.

  He let the silky curtain of her hair fall back over the ugly scars that marred that side of her face and, not thinking too much about the sanity behind that action, scooped the crying girl up and into his arms. She fought him at first, but, tightening his hold on her, he ignored her protests, and by the time he’d successfully maneuvered them onto the soft couch provided in any playroom of the club for that much-needed aftercare, she’d sunk against him.

  “There, it’s okay. I’m sorry I made you do that. Just let it all out. I had no idea it was so…” He couldn’t find the right word, and Lindsey started to cry harder, deep, wracking sobs that shook her slender frame. In truth, she was far too skinny for his liking, as though she deliberately starved herself. It made the naturally impressive cleavage Mother Nature had gifted her with seem fake. He knew it wasn’t, of course. Lindsey had been well endowed even as a lanky teenager and he should have known better than to notice.

  He recalled Elena ribbing him about his straying eyes more than once and the memories of his correcting his wife’s inherent sass brought a grim smile to his face. He’d lost so much with her passing. Not only the other half of his soul, the one woman he’d envisaged spending the rest of his life with, but also his dominant side. It was a startling realization how quickly Lindsey brought out his inner Dom kicking and screaming. Rissa had had a similar effect on him, but holding Lindsey in his arms stirred more than just his protective instincts.

  “Ugly, you mean. Say it how it is. I know it looks awful.”

  Lindsey sounded so lost and miserable, it tore at his heartstrings.

  “You’re not ugly, little bird.”

  A definite snort, which ended up in a hiccup, was his reply. Lindsey pushed against his chest, and he reluctantly let her go. The fact that she didn’t immediately scramble off his lap, however, gave him hope that he hadn’t completely ballsed this up. Besides, she needed his help, and he couldn’t just leave things like this. Seeing Lindsey wipe away the moisture on her face while trying to keep her scarred side hidden underneath her hair only reiterated how fragile she was, mentally, emotionally, and physically, and his gut churned at the thought of this broken girl at the hands of someone like Alexej.

  “You’re not, believe me.”

  Another snort was his answer, and she surprised him by flinging her long hair over one shoulder, and lifting her face into the light. This close, the scars looked even angrier than before, and Logan tried his damnedest to not react in any way. In her fragile state right now, the wrong move on his part could cause some serious damage.

  Unbidden, another time entered his mind. Elena exposing her mastectomy scars for the first time. It wasn’t the same, yet it was. He sensed the same desperation off the trembling woman on his lap, the desperate need for reassurance, and it ripped the old scars in his heart wide open again.

  “These aren’t ugly, are they?”

  Lindsey’s brown eyes sparked fire at him, daring him to disagree with her, and while one part of his rejoiced at the re-emergence of her sass, the Dom in him itched to put her over his knee and to teach her some respect. There was a time and place for that, however, and right now was not it.

  “I never said the scars are pretty, little bird.” He dropped his voice without any conscious effort on his part, and Lindsey’s eyes widened. A blush spread over her cheeks, obliterating some of the redness left over from the scarred tissue, making those nasty marks less pronounced. She dropped her gaze to his collarbone when he raised an eyebrow in silent query at her. He had to strain to hear her whisper.

  “I’m sorry, Sir. I don’t mean to be disrespectful. Please punish me as you see fit.”

  Logan sighed, and if it was possible, Lindsey shrunk further into herself. Logan grasped her chin to lift her head up.

  “Look at me, girl.”

  Visibly startled, Lindsey’s gaze flew to his, and he barely resisted the urge to kiss away the droplets of moisture still clinging to her eyelashes.

  “Is that what you need? Punishment?”

  Lindsey bit her lip in answer, and Logan frowned and shook his head at her. It was somewhat gratifying to see her desist from abusing that flesh immediately.

  “I asked you a question. I expect an answer.”

  “I-I don’t know. Maybe. I just thought you’d want to…Why did you bid on me, Sir?”

  Logan chose his answer wisely, all too aware of the desperate need he sensed in her. She flinched when he shifted his fingers along her jaw, and let his thumb trail along the worst of her scars.

  “These don’t define you, you know. Tell me, is that why you’re hiding under all that getup?”

  “With all due respect, Sir, that’s none of your business, and I asked you a question first. Why did you bid on me? Why are you even here? You weren’t supposed to be here. You never are at the auctions. It’s…” Fresh tears filled her ears, and he could almost see the wheels turning in her head as she connected the dots. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Today would have been her birthday…Is that why you were at the auction today?”

  Not trusting himself to reply, Logan lifted her off his lap and, standing up, turned his back on her while he fought to get his turbulent emotions back under control. Of course she would remember the date. Lindsey always sent a card, come what may, when Elena had still been alive.

  He swore under his breath when he felt the tentative brush of her fingertips on his biceps, and stopped breathing altogether as she trailed those digits down his arm until she reached his tightly clenched hand. He hadn’t even realized he’d balled them into fists until Lindsey slid to her knees next to him and, dropping kisses along the tight skin, slowly uncurled his hand. He gritted his teeth against the sensation of her hot little mouth sliding along his thumb, all too aware of her wide-eyed gaze focused on him as she wrapped her tongue around that digit and suckled in a far-too-good imitation of sucking dick.

  Naturally, that organ jumped to life with a speed that left him rather lightheaded. It would be so easy to take what she offered. Sweat broke out on his forehead, and he groaned, imagining her lips wrapped around his cock in the same way she was paying homage to his thumb, but he couldn’t, wouldn’t use her like that.

  This is what she was expecting, after all.

  “Honoraria, stop that.”

  Just like he thought it would, the mention of a name he knew she hated brought her to her senses, brought them both to their senses, for that matter, as Logan willed his erection away. He had to remember that he had no business feeling anything for Lady Honoraria Callan-Brannan, heiress, daughter to one of his ex-clients, and above all, nineteen years his junior. Far too young for him, period.

  Lindsey scrambled to her feet, wrapped her arms around herself, and shook her head.

  “Please don’t call me that. I’m not her. At least I’m not when I’m here. Never here.”

  Something in the tone of her voice snared his attention, but before he could press her further on that, his work phone started to vibrate in his trousers.

  Holding up one hand in apology, he fished the mobile device out of his pocket and frowned at the number he didn’t recognize.

  “Hello, who is this?”

  “Dr. Festher, is that you?”

  Logan’s frown deepened and a nasty itch spread between his shoulder blades. That voice sounded familiar with the urgent, worried tone of someone with an animal in trouble.


  “It’s Jenkins here, sir, head groom at the Callan-Brannan stables. I know you’re not officially our vet anymore. More’s the pity. I wouldn’t be calling you if it wasn’t urgent, but it’s old Millie. His lordship would never agree to the expense of calling out the new vet to her, and she needs help. I can’t get her up, and I fear the worst. She ain’t been quite right all day, and Miss Lindsey, well, she dotes on that horse, and she asked to ring you, if anything ever happened to Millie, and as I can’t get hold of Miss Lindsey either, and—”

  “Hold it right there, Jenkins.” Logan interrupted the stream of words, uncomfortably aware of the way Lindsey immediately tensed at the mention of his name. He couldn’t be sure how much of the conversation she’d overheard. Besides the fact that Jenkins had rung him would raise enough alarm bells as it was, and with only the two of them in this quiet room, it would be hard to miss the old groom almost shouting down the phone at him. Sure enough, she took a step toward him, her lips pressed into a thin line, worry pouring off her slight frame.

  “Is it Millie?” she whispered, and when he didn’t reply, she gasped.

  “Calm down, Jenkins, this isn’t helping anyone. Of course I’ll come.” He smiled grimly at the loud sigh of relief coming down the line.

  “Thank the lord. She’s got me worried. I sure hope she ain’t twisted her gut. Himself will never fork out for surgery, if she’d even make it through, and—”

  “Jenkins, we’ll discuss this when I get there.” Logan interrupted the other man, and inwardly cursed at the situation. Lindsey did indeed dote on that horse, and he knew from bitter experience that her father did not approve of keeping any old horse on. This would give him the perfect excuse to euthanize the animal, like he was wont to do to the older race horses he couldn’t afford to keep. It had been one of the many reasons why Logan had disassociated himself from the other man and Lindsey’s father had sought out a new vet.