Sweet Persuasion (Sweet #2)(73)

“I’m in the car,” Serena said calmly.

“Damon is frantic with worry. He said he’s been unable to reach you and that you aren’t at the office or your apartment.”

“Shit,” Serena muttered.

“Is something wrong?” Faith demanded.

Serena took in a deep breath. Just hearing that Damon was worried made Serena feel like an inconsiderate clod.

“Faith, I just have a question.”

“Okay.”

“Remember when you said that Gray told you he could never be involved with a woman who wasn’t strong enough to submit?”

There was a short pause. “Yes, of course.”

“Do you believe that?”

“What are you getting at, Serena?” Faith asked softly.

“I just want to know if you believe it. That it takes someone strong to give up ultimate power, to allow a man to take care of her, to make decisions for her.”

“Yes, I do.”

The conviction in Faith’s voice moved her more than the actual words.

“Thank you,” Serena said quietly. “I need to go. I need to get home to Damon.”

“Serena, what’s going on?” Faith asked.

“We’ll talk later, okay?”

She hit the end button before Faith could offer further argument. For a moment, she held the phone in her hand, tempted to call Damon, but she wasn’t at all sure what she’d say, and now, as if she’d known all along where she’d end up, she realized she was only a few minutes from his house.

She punched the power button to turn her phone off again and tossed it onto the seat. A few minutes later, she pulled into the drive of Damon’s home and frowned when she saw several cars parked out front. She pulled up behind the last and cut the engine.

Leaving her briefcase and phone on the seat, she got out and walked to the front door. As soon as she hit the top step, the door flew open.

She raised her gaze to meet Damon’s furious one. His eyes were nearly black, and anger tightened his lips.

“Where the hell have you been?” he demanded.

His words lashed over her, igniting her own helpless anger.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” she snapped. “Our agreement is for when I’m here.”

He reached out and cupped her shoulder, yanking her inside the house. The door slammed behind her, and she winced.

“This has nothing, nothing to do with any agreement,” he bit out. “It has to do with common decency. I was worried, Serena. I thought you might be on the side of the road somewhere, hurt and alone. Or in the hospital. Or in the f**king morgue.”

She flinched at the raw edge in his voice. There was more than anger. There was true concern and frustration.

“You wouldn’t answer your goddamn phone. I even sent Sam to your office and then your home and then back here so he could trace your possible route.”

She closed her eyes against his censure because he was right. She’d been an irresponsible twit all because she didn’t have a goddamn spine.

“I’m sorry,” she said tiredly.

He held up his hand. His jaw ticked like he was trying to hang on to his temper.

“What happened?” he asked bluntly. “Where have you been and are you all right?”

This was one time when she wished she’d actually been in some sort of an accident just so she didn’t have to tell him she’d been hiding. From him. From herself. From this combustible attraction between them.

“I was thinking.”

“Thinking? You were thinking? And in all this thinking, it never crossed your mind that I might be worried, that you at least owed me the courtesy of a phone call to say you’d be late? Not as your master, Serena. Not as some guy who considers you a slave, but as someone who cares about you.”

She closed her eyes as fatigue centered between her shoulders. When she opened them again, Damon was dragging a hand through his hair in a supreme gesture of agitation.

“Go and change into the clothes I’ve laid out for you,” he said in a controlled voice. “Then return to the living room. We have guests.”

He stared her down as if waiting for the word to cross her lips. He was forcing her into the decision she’d been wavering on the entire day. If she said no, she’d leave, and she wouldn’t be back. If she did his bidding, she was committing to staying, to continuing the farce.

Neither option seemed attractive to her right now. What she really wanted was to be alone, and she could be alone if she just said no.

Instead, she nodded and walked past Damon toward the bedroom. He didn’t touch her, didn’t hold her back or say anything further. When she looked back as she entered the hallway, he’d already left the foyer.

She continued up the stairs, her fatigue and confusion growing with each step. When she got to the bedroom, she saw that Damon had laid out one of the exquisite dresses he’d purchased for her along with a matching black bra and panties, silk stockings and a pair of expensive heels. There was even jewelry to accompany the sophisticated look.

As she continued to stare at the clothing, she had a swift realization. Tonight she wasn’t his slave. He was inviting her into his world. His real world, where he expected her to mingle with his guests. Normalcy. A step out of the roles they played, and yet, they only existed in the realm of her fantasy. A world she had created.