Owned by Fate (Serve #1)(35)

Caroline waited for the euphoria to spread through her chest, her limbs…but it never came. Here she sat, trust and honor being bestowed on her from her father. This chance was everything she’d worked for and never expected. But she could only think of Jonah and what they’d done. How she would now be even more responsible for condemning his world by voting against her brother. Hypocrite. When she spoke, her voice sounded far away. “For the record, I think you’re wrong about Oliver. His idea might be wrong for the magazine, but he would never do anything to make you ashamed.”

He acknowledged that with a nod. “That might have been too strong a word.” When he placed a steady hand on her shoulder, Caroline forced herself back to reality. “I have every confidence in you. You’re going to make me proud.”





Chapter Twelve


Jonah leaned back in his leather armchair, security monitors glowing around him. Ever since he’d been forced to replace Serve’s manager thanks to the man’s lapse in judgment in allowing the messenger to gain access to his apartment vestibule, he’d been working around the clock. Part of him wondered if his lack of contact with Caroline since their afternoon in the limousine had spurred his debatably drastic action and decided, yes, it probably had. Honestly, if Caroline hadn’t been there, Jonah didn’t think he would have been quite so angry. She’d been placed at risk due to his manager’s actions. He’d been incapable of letting it go unaddressed.

In the absence of his manager, he’d decided to promote from within, giving one of his longest-standing employees a temporary promotion, but he didn’t feel comfortable with a new person at the helm just yet. Everything appeared to be running smoothly in the club tonight, but where would he go if he left the room? The empty apartment upstairs or the one in Brooklyn?

No matter where he went, he would think of Caroline. Every time he closed his eyes, she was there. Standing in his bedroom naked, save for a skimpy pair of red panties. Bending forward to present him with her ass, that lacy black thong hiding all her secrets. God, something about the way she wore panties, riding low on her hipbones, the material fitting snugly over her *, leaving no mystery as to what was beneath…it was enough to move a man to tears. On the heels of that image came her unforgettable ass in the air, begging for a slap from his paddle as she called him Master. Hell, picturing her fully clothed, simply talking to him while she fiddled with her glasses, made him hard.

The sexy, elusive, mouthy intellectual had done a f*cking number on him.

Jonah sat forward as a familiar blonde moved across the main monitor and sat down at the downstairs bar, effectively interrupting his licentious thoughts. It took him no time at all to place her. She’d been with Caroline that first night at the club. He made a sound of disgust when he realized he’d been eagerly scanning behind her for any sign of Caroline. Where’s your pride, man?

His gaze narrowed as she ordered a drink, downed it in one shot, and ordered another immediately. Having been fascinated by Caroline that first night, he hadn’t paid the blonde much attention, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out the girl was on a mission to get plastered. Having been there in the past, he recognized the signs. Every so often, she would turn in her seat as if looking for somebody, shoulders slumping in disappointment when she presumably didn’t find him. As far as he knew, she hadn’t submitted any paperwork to be allowed upstairs. So what was she doing here?

Suddenly, she jolted off her stool, swayed on her feet, and began stumbling her way through the crowd, attempting to keep her chin raised resolutely. Jonah knew without a doubt she was headed for the elevator to bring her upstairs. It occurred to him that Caroline might have confided in her friend about their relationship and felt a wave of satisfaction over the possibility. Did the blonde think she could drop Caroline’s name and get a free pass upstairs? Not likely. She was visibly drunk. Not to mention, something about her current demeanor didn’t sit right.

Coming to a quick decision, Jonah grabbed the phone and called down to one of his security guards. “Hey. There’s a blonde headed your way. She’s wearing bright yellow. Can’t miss her.” He waited for the grunt of confirmation. “Keep her there. I’ll be right down.”

Jonah reached for his phone to make a second call then, slightly annoyed by the anticipation slithering through his gut. Just the idea of hearing her husky voice in his ear made him growl a little in the semi-darkness. Would the memories of how she’d submitted to him not once but twice be obvious in her voice, or would she be a good enough liar to hide it?

She answered on the fourth ring. “Hello?”

Hiding it, huh? Not if he could help it. “Sweetheart. It’s been days.”

Her breath hitched at his tone, just audibly enough for him to hear. “Why are you calling? It’s late.”

“It’s nine thirty.”

Caroline grumbled. “Not enough people subscribe to the nine o’clock cutoff anymore.”

Jonah smiled against the phone, but it faded fast. “Did I catch you in the middle of something?”

“Maybe.”

“Caroline,” he warned, in a tone he knew she would correctly interpret. One he wished to use on her a hell of a lot more.

A long pause ensued before her sigh echoed through the phone. “I’m watching Iron Chef.”