to her.
Kingsley caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers.
He narrowed his eyes at her, his expression inscrutable.
“What? What is it?” she asked.
“I missed you,” he said, blinking as if attempting to clear a fog. “Forgive me. I just realized that.”
“I missed you, too. I thought about writing you but I didn’t know what to say.”
Kingsley turned his head, didn’t look at her.
“It didn’t matter. I was gone, too. I came home two months ago.”
“You left, too? Why? When?”
He paused before answering. “The day after you left, I left. And you know why. If I stayed...”
If he’d stayed, they—Kingsley and Søren—would have found her and brought her home, and no door, even one that said “No Men Beyond This Point,” could have kept them from taking her back.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?”
She wanted to thank him for forgiving her even though she didn’t regret it. But instead she said, “Thanks for not kicking me out. Tonight, I mean. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did.”
Briefly she met his eyes. She’d didn’t say what she wanted to say, couldn’t say it. Last year she’d accidentally gotten pregnant and it had been Kingsley’s. As much as he wanted children, she wouldn’t have blamed him for rejecting her pleas for help, sending her out into the night again, banishing her from his life. She was in debt now and hated it, hated owing him for something as simple as letting her back in the house she’d once shared with him.
“Elle...” He took her by the shoulders and met her eyes. “When Søren first told me about you, I called you his princess. And he said, no, you were a queen. And I laughed. But last year when you and I were together, when you cut me and burned me and you did it all with a smile on your face... I was wrong. He was right. You are a queen. At least...you could be one. Is that what you want?”
“I don’t know.”
“Tell me what you want.”
“I want a job.”
“This is a job.”
“I want money so I can support myself.”
“These are all very boring answers. Tell me the truth. What do you really want?”
“I don’t want to feel like this anymore. That’s what I want.”
He furrowed his brow at her. “How do you feel?”
“Powerless,” she said. “I’m afraid to say no to your ‘job offer.’ What would I do if you kicked me out? Where would I go?”
“Back to him?”
“No. I can’t. That’s the last place I could go.”
Kingsley nodded, seeming to understand her predicament.
“I can’t turn down your offer, can I?” she asked.
“Do you want to? Truly?”
The question seemed sincere, not teasing as it might have been. He meant it—did she want to turn down his offer?
“What’s the alternative if I say no?” she asked.
Kingsley opened a desk drawer and in the desk drawer was his locked cashbox.
“There’s one hundred thousand dollars in there. It’s yours if you want it. Take it and walk out the door.” He held up the key to the cashbox. “You can live on that much money for five years if you’re careful. Go south where the winters are warm and rents are cheap. Get a job. Go back to school. Be a lawyer or a therapist or a schoolteacher. Marry a rich old man for all I care. Start your life over away from here, away from me.”
“I don’t want your charity.”
“It’s not charity. After Sam left, you worked as my assistant for years without any pay other than room and board. I give it to you free and clear with no strings attached. You’ve earned it. All I ask is that you never contact me again. I spent an entire year worrying over you, feeling like you were my responsibility and I’d failed you. I won’t do that again. I can’t. Take the money and go, and I will absolve myself of all responsibility. My conscience will be clear. At least where you’re concerned. Or...”
“Or I can work for you. Here. As a domme.”
“Oui. And working for me here as a domme you will have a job, you will have money and you will have power.”
“Power? Working for you? If I work for you, you’d have all the power.”
“You won’t be my employee. You’ll be my queen. You will be my queen and in a year you will have all the money and power you could possibly desire. One hundred thousand dollars and you go tonight and you never come back. Or you stay and work for me and one hundred thousand will seem like spare change to you in a year. Think about it. I’ll give you five minutes.”
Kingsley turned and walked out of the office just like that, leaving her all alone.
Once alone Elle sagged against the wall, the choice before her dizzying. A hundred grand and she could start a brand-new life far away from here. Her passport was in her bedroom. If Kingsley hadn’t thrown everything out, she could get it and leave the country. Money was power. Money was freedom.
But...it was a game, wasn’t it? she thought as she sat in Kingsley’s antique leather swivel chair behind the grand old Art Deco-era desk. Take the money and run? Or stay and work and make two, three, four times that amount?
And yet...it wasn’t really the money she cared about. Money was a means to an end and that end was power. She never wanted to feel the way she felt half an hour ago when she’d knocked on the front door of Kingsley’s town house knowing that if he shut the door in her face, she had nowhere else to go.
On Kingsley’s desk sat a chessboard with red pieces and white pieces. When she and Søren played, he took red and she took white. When she and Kingsley played, she took red and Kingsley took white. Chess...a strange old game. She wasn’t very good at it and neither was Kingsley. Søren alone had the gift for it. She’d asked him once why he made her play chess with him when she wasn’t good at it. He’d answered, “Chess teaches that actions have consequences and the wise man—or woman—will always look to the endgame...”
Elle picked up the red bishop. The bishop moved diagonally along a straight line. The poor pawn could move only a square at a time. Although if it were played well, it could become a queen. She put the bishop back on the board and picked up the red queen and the white king. The king was a strong piece, of course. The most important chess piece and the most vulnerable to attack. But the queen...the queen was the most powerful chess piece. More powerful than the king. And the queen could move any way she wanted...
Kingsley opened the
