The driver followed her down the hall, giving the impression of politely escorting her, but she thought of him as more of a guard, making sure that the prisoner didn’t escape.
Mallory forced her heaving chest to still as her guard opened the door to Jake’s office. He was sitting behind his desk, his fingers pressed together as though praying.
She couldn’t help being stunned by how handsome he was; she had forgotten the effect he had on her. But there were lines of anxiety around his mouth and dark circles under his eyes. His usually perfect hair was a bit unkempt, as though he had been running his hands through it frequently in frustration. Mallory couldn’t help softening towards him as she realized his obvious distress.
No, she told herself firmly. Jake Cleary is an entitled ass**le who just sent a lackey to fetch you like his dry cleaning.
“Hello, Mallory.” His voice was tired, but there was a small smile playing around his mouth, and the lines of anxiety eased, as though her mere presence was melting his dark mood.
Mallory felt an answering loosening of the tension within her, not even realizing that she had held it until it was released. But she forced her voice to hone to sharpness. “What do you want, Jake?”
His face fell slightly at her tone. “I have to talk to you, Mallory. To explain.”
“What is there to explain?” She snapped. “You accused me of using you for your money and called me a slut.” She spat the last word out, flinging it at him like a dagger.
He winced, and she felt a moment of triumph, knowing that she had hurt him as he had hurt her. But the victory felt hollow, wrong somehow.
“You have to let me make this right, Mallory. Please.” His voice was strained on the last word. Mallory was sure that he rarely begged for anything. It was possible that he never had.
With a resigned sigh, she plopped down in the cushioned leather seat opposite from him. “Then talk,” she said in a clipped tone.
Jake closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as though bracing himself. When he opened them, they were full of pain. “I’ve never told anyone about this Mallory, you have to understand that. But please, give me time and hear me out.”
She nodded curtly, wanting him to get on with it and get it over with so that she could leave.
“There was a woman, Jennifer, who I dated a few years ago. She was my first and only love. She was sweet, gentle, obedient.” His eyes flashed to Mallory, barely concealing his longing. “I thought she was perfect in every way.” His face twisted into an anguished frown.
“I gave her everything: money, jewels. We travelled the world together. I was going to ask her to marry me.
“Little did I know that her… appetites were more voracious than I realized,” he continued. “She would have dark bruises on her skin days after we had played, but she claimed that she marked up easily. I was so blinded by my feelings for her that I believed her.”
His face shifted into a mask of anger. “But then one day I came home early from a business trip, and I found them. They were together, in our house: Jennifer and the sadist.”
He suddenly looked weary, sad, clearly still wounded by the memories. “When I confronted her, she tried to apologize, saying that it was the first time that she had been with him. I forgave her, and I tried to be rougher with her, to give her what she wanted. But it went against my nature.”
His eyes were shining. Were those tears? Mallory had never seen him so raw. She felt herself softening towards him as she witnessed his grief. “But then her friend Celeste came to me,” he trudged on. “She said that she was being crushed by the weight of her secret, and she confessed that Jennifer had been seeing the sadist since before we even started dating. She had never broken off the relationship, but she had been using me for my money. She had been lying to me the whole time, had played me for the fool. I kicked her out of my life and have never been with a woman for more than one night since then.
“Until I met you, Mallory,” he was looking at her with a fierce hunger in his eyes, mingled with an intense yearning. “My harsh words weren’t meant for you; they were meant for her.”
It all made sense to Mallory now: he had lashed out in Venice because seeing her with the horned man had brought his feelings of betrayal back to the fore. His calling her a gold-digger and a slut had been a reaction to his old wound being ripped back open. Especially since he had opened himself up to Mallory, showing her glimpses of his vulnerability. And apparently he hadn’t allowed himself to do that in the years since Jennifer had broken his heart.
Mallory felt a sudden surge of hatred toward the faceless bitch who had hurt Jake; she had scarred him so deeply that he was scared of true intimacy.
Mallory met his eyes and was caught up in their multifaceted beauty, all royal blue with hints of darkest green. “I forgive you, Jake,” she said softly.
He visibly sagged in relief at her words. Then he straightened, moving around his desk so quickly that she gasped in shock as he took her by the shoulders and lifted her up. His arms gripped her waist tightly, clinging onto her as if she were the only real thing in the world. He took her mouth fiercely, as though he could brand her with his kiss.
When he finally pulled back from her, his eyes were shining. “Thank you, Mallory.” She was sure that he had never said that to a submissive in his life.
Chapter 2
Half an hour later, Mallory found herself riding in the back of Jake’s Jaguar again, pulling down the long drive leading to his plantation house. He sat as closely beside her as possible, occasionally leaning in for a sweet kiss, as though he couldn’t help himself.
If she had found the house stunning in the darkness of the evening, it was nothing short of breathtaking in the daylight. There were light-pink azaleas interspersed with gardenia bushes lining the house on either side of the semi-circular porch. Huge oak trees shaded the manor, providing relief from the South Carolina summer heat, and two massive Carolina Palmetto trees bookended either side of Jake’s sprawling home. The entire picture was one of classic elegance. Mallory loved it, especially considering her passion for history.
She didn’t even realize that she was beaming, her earlier anger at Jake forgotten as she took in the idyllic beauty of the grounds. He grinned back at her, and, holding her hand, he led her into the house. They walked down a long, high-ceilinged hallway before climbing the stairs that Mallory had first tread when she had been led to Jake’s office, where they had shared their first kiss. Her heart gave a little leap at the memory of his strong hands on her, his mouth hot and demanding; her first taste of his dominant nature.