Servicing the Target (Masters of the Shadowlands #10)(83)

“I-I’m between jobs at the moment,” Deanna said.

The arm behind Anne tensed. “Seriously? You lost the sales position at the clothing store?” Ben growled. “Then why are you here instead of searching for another?”

“Ben.” Deanna snapped. A second later, she managed a pitiful-me expression, complete with teary eyes. “I should have stayed home. It’s just, I was s-so upset. I only wanted to get away.”

Anne turned to check out Ben’s response.

His expression was soft. “Now, Dee-dee, it’ll be all right,” he said gently.

Anne barely refrained from rolling her eyes. As a Domme, she’d seen far more skillful performances, but Deanna’s wasn’t bad. She definitely had her big brother fooled.

To top it off, Deanna added the tried-and-true lip quiver. “No, it won’t be all right. I can’t pay my rent and”—she half-sobbed—“Sheena was wonderful and lent me money for food, but I can’t ask her for more.”

“Of course not,” Ben said.

Anne had to smother a growl. During their time together, Ben had already received a couple of phone calls from this sister, hitting him up for money.

But…to pull this crap in front of other people and put Ben on the spot? That was purely manipulative. He obviously had no clue he was being played. Not surprising. Family could do that to a person.

Anne bit her lip. It wasn’t her money, wasn’t her family. As Sam would say, she didn’t have a dog in this fight.

Yet…she did. When Ben had given her his submission, he’d become hers to protect, even from his own family if needed. So be it.

“Asking for and giving money between family members is tricky, isn’t it?” Anne said brightly to the table at large. “Last week, my friend Linda cried after she said no to her grown son. She was heartbroken to have to refuse him, especially when a little money would help. But she says her parental goal is for her son to be independent, and if she constantly rescues him, he won’t exert the effort—or learn enough diplomacy—to keep a job.”

Ben looked down at Anne, his brows together. “Did Sam agree?”

The gray-haired sadist had certainly had an opinion. “He thinks enabling a person like that is as detrimental as abuse.” Anne half-smiled. “He told Linda to envision the future. If she died in a car wreck tomorrow, would her adult son survive without her?”

Ben was silent.

Anne carefully didn’t look at Deanna, but the waves of fury coming from that direction were almost palpable. “Leon, have you run into such situations in your family?”

“Mais, yeah. Cajuns have big families. An’ whoever has money gets hit on by them that don’t.” He eyed Ben. “You ever watched a mama dog when she decides the pups are old enough? They try to suckle, an’ she just walks away. Sometimes she’ll have to nip the ones that won’t take a hint, otherwise some puppies’d be happy to suck the tit forever, yeah?”

“Jesus Christ.” Deanne glared at Anne. “Who the hell do you think you are? This is between me and my brother. You—you just want to get your claws into his money and—”

“I don’t need Ben’s money, but it is my job to shield him.” She heard his startled grunt. After his time in the Shadowlands, had he missed learning that Mistresses as well as Masters protected their slaves? “How old are you, anyway?”

“She’s thirty-one.” Camille turned angry eyes on her sister. “Mimi said you told your manager to f*ck off because he instructed you to work with middle-class customers as well as the rich ones. God, Dee. Mimi stuck her neck out to get you that job. Now, she’s in trouble with her boss for recommending you.”

Deanna slumped. Her expression indicated she blamed everyone except herself.

To Anne’s relief, Ben slid his arm across her shoulders and pulled her close. “Thank you, Ma’am,” he whispered into her ear. Then he looked around her at his sister. “It hurts to think I’ve helped you turn into a f*ck-up, Dee-dee, but I guess I have. Camille and I already know that if we lose our jobs, we don’t eat. Or we end up homeless. So we behave accordingly. Time for you to learn the nasty facts of life, sis.”

“But, Ben.” Sheena scooted her chair near enough to lay her hand on Ben’s forearm. “She’s your sister. She loves you because you have a big heart.” And then the woman actually leaned against him and stroked him.

Fury crackled across Anne’s nerves. So much for being tolerant. She didn’t share her slaves. She certainly didn’t share Ben. Never.

Anne picked up an unopened chopstick packet, slapped it on her palm to check the sting factor—very nice—then sharply smacked the back of Sheena’s trespassing hand.

Sheena jerked her hand away. “Hey!”

Anne gave her the stare that kept men on their knees and silent.

Sheena’s face paled, but she still…stupidly…tried to speak. “Listen, you—”

“Maybe your wimpy friends put up with you touching and hanging on their men, but I don’t. Hands off.” She twisted to put her hand on Ben’s stomach in her own claiming gesture. Why be subtle? “Mine.”

Across the table, she heard muffled laughter from Leon and Camille. But Deanna was scowling. Way to make friends, Anne.