Read Online Puppet On A String by Lizbeth Dusseau - Free Book Online Page A

timbre of his voice jerked her immediately from her task.
           “Sir?” She looked up.
           His eyes were strangely soft now, almost luminescent in the glow from the office lights. The effect was curiously soothing. By comparison, the computer screen practically burned her eyes.
           “Close the file and come with me.”
           “Sir?”
           “Close the file, and come with me,” he repeated.
           “Yes, sir, certainly.” Her breath was suddenly shallow, her heart racing fast. It did so often in the man’s presence, but this time there was something very different about his order. It didn’t seem like an order at all but kindness. She moved from her desk where he reached out with his hand and took hers, leading her through his office door and into the private apartment, which was accessed through a secret door in the rosewood paneling. She’d known for weeks that the apartment was there. Darcy had told her so, though she’d never seen it, nor had she known exactly what he used it for.
           His plan was almost obvious from the beginning, though she dared not assume that being allowed into this inner sanctuary would actually mean what she hoped it would. Excited beyond words, she shivered nervously in her high heeled shoes waiting for the big secret to be revealed. After Mr. Darcy tripped the unseen lock and the sliding panel was pulled aside,
Shelby
gazed in electrified wonder at the vast space that opened up before her. The cozy sitting room, the glittering bar and the enormous bed along the far wall were almost more titillation than her sex-hungry body could withstand.
           “Sit down,
Shelby
,” he motioned her to the soft leather couch.
           Darcy made her a drink, and while he stood by the side of the bar, she sat primly on the edge of her seat, much too nervous to relax. Her mind kept wandering toward the bed behind her, but she didn’t dare look. Instead, she carefully sipped the drink, not liking its sour taste in the slightest – this might have been the first hard liquor she’d ever tasted. However, once she consumed half of the drink, she found her body warming and her nerves quelled. With the warm glow magically melting away her fear, she drank the rest more quickly, wanting to slip even deeper into this pleasantly altered state.
           When she finished the first drink, he gave her another. He was still standing, downing his second glass of Scotch. She stared beyond him, mesmerized by the glittering array of liquor bottles. “
Shelby
,” he drew her attention back to him.
           “Yes, sir.”
           “You know, dear, being owned doesn’t mean that you have to live your life on pins and needles,” he spoke quite kindly now. “It’s all about satisfying each other’s needs. You take care of mine, I take care of yours. Simple as that.”
           “Yes, sir, that seems reasonable.” She offered up a timid smile.
           “I understand that what a starry-eyed young woman wants is romance, a little tenderness, even if she’s a born submissive masochist like yourself.”
           “Is that what I am?” She stared at her drink, feeling the intoxication beginning to take hold. Her mind began to spin.
           “You disagree?”
           She wasn’t sure that she was thinking clearly, but what Mr. Darcy said sounded perfectly logical, considering her behavior of the last few weeks. He always sounded logical, always perfectly reasonable, even when he twisted her thoughts into knots. He always knew the right answers, while she fumbled around to understand things – fumbled like she did now. Sometimes her feelings were way beyond her, as they were that day, and he seemed to put everything in its proper perspective. She looked up, her head feeling strangely fuzzy. Was this what it was like to be drunk? “No, sir, I can’t disagree. But I think I’m very