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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.
