Page 46 of Forty Days and One Knight
“But we still don’t have a motive. It could have been anyone he knows. Hell, it could have been someone who got close to him, specifically to use him. He’s too dumb and conceited to think anyone would want to hang out with him for any other reason than he’s a cool guy—which he isn’t. So, now what?”
Amar shrugged. “We keep digging, my friend.”
“Shit.”
35
Tahira twisted her hands together as she stared into the mirror. The bruises on her face had finally disappeared completely. The ones on the rest of her body were gone as well, and she was grateful she no longer had to see the reminders of her assault. The tight, black miniskirt and skimpy, gold camisole she was wearing were at the suggestion of Angie and Kristen, and she hoped Darius approved of them. While she had panties on—Darius thought she’d be more comfortable that way—she’d forgone a bra. She wasn’t well blessed in that department and could easily get away with not wearing one.
Today was the first day they were training in the club, and she was grateful it was during the daytime when it was closed and only the two women, Ian, Devon, and maybe Mitch would be there. She was nervous enough as it was and didn’t need more attention focused on her and Darius, although, one would think being constantly in the public eye would’ve made a difference. But it didn’t.
She was more worried about Darius. Even though they’d discussed trying a D/s relationship, and Trudy had agreed with them giving it a shot when they’d spoken to the therapist together last week, Tahira was still concerned about it. Was Darius just doing this for her, like he’d done for their impending nuptials, or would he be getting something he needed out of it too? He was a dominant man who took charge when he needed to without hesitation in any given situation. But would he fit into the lifestyle like his friends and teammates did? She didn’t want him to feel like a fish out of water. If he wasn’t comfortable with her submitting to him, even in a non-sexual manner, then she would tell him the lifestyle wasn’t for her either. But she was afraid she’d be lying to him if she did that.
After talking in private with Trudy, and then with Angie and Kristen one evening, during a girl’s night in Angie and Ian’s apartment, Tahira was certain she was a submissive. She’d done some research on several websites the women had recommended, and while many of the types of play did not appeal to her, the thought of handing control over to Darius, even for a few hours, sounded like heaven. She wouldn’t have to be “on” and smiling like she had to be all the time in public. She could just relax and let him take over. He would honor her limits, and she would be safe with him. She could even cry if she needed to—something she avoided at all costs if anyone but Darius was around. In his arms, Tahira didn’t need to be anyone but herself—a woman who’d fallen in love with the man who’d saved her in more ways than one. And yes, she was in love with him.
The door to the locker room opened and Angie waddled in, her hand at her lower back. She smiled when she saw Tahira. “You look like you’re about to be thrown to the wolves. Relax. After a few minutes, you’ll be more comfortable than me. I can’t wait for Little Bit to come out into the world. I feel like a beached whale with back pain, and don’t tell Ian I said that. I’ve already racked up a bunch of punishments for when we can play again. Actually, I’m looking forward to them. Now I know what Kristen had been talking about when she was nearing her due date with JD. Devon was driving her nuts with his hovering and Ian is the same way. I was glad I had some time to myself when he had to go to Miami and then D.C. for Amar. What was that all about, anyway? He didn’t tell me.”
Tahira was grateful for Angie’s babbling. It helped take her mind off the fact she was in a sex club and calmed her down a bit. She also trusted the women to keep her confidence. “It is not public knowledge, but Amar, Ian, and Darius thought my cousin’s friend might have had something to do with my abduction.”
The other woman’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?”
“But he did not,” she quickly added. “They questioned him and believed him when he said he did not know what they were talking about.” Tahira had been sort of relieved it hadn’t been Diallo. She hated to think someone who had been around her so much had been involved in something so heinous as arranging for the women to be kidnapped and sold as sex slaves. Unfortunately, they still didn’t know who’d done it. But she didn’t want to think about any of that now, so she changed the subject. “Do I look all right?”
“Seriously?” Angie repeated. “Girl, you’d look stunning dressed in a garbage bag. Trust me, Darius will be drooling. In fact, he told me to tell you he’s waiting outside for you, since I was coming in here to use the bathroom. Take a deep breath and go; I’ll be back out in a few minutes.”
After taking one last look in the mirror, Tahira did as Angie suggested and took a deep breath before walking on shaky knees and bare feet to the door. Darius was standing a short distance away when she entered the downstairs portion of the club. As she approached him, his gaze roamed her body from head to toe and back again, and his nostrils flared, causing her to blush. His tongue peeked out and wet his full lips, as he held his hand out to her. “You look beautiful, Princess. Come here.” She placed her hand in his and was surprised when he lifted it to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “You’re shaking.” He pulled her into his embrace and stroked her hair. “You’re safe, sweetheart, but say the word and we’ll go home. If this isn’t what you want ...”
She pulled back just enough that she could see his handsome face. “No, please, I want to stay. I am just a little nervous.”
Smiling, he bent down and placed a brief, sweet kiss on her lips. “I’d be worried if you weren’t.” Still holding her hand, he stepped back. “Shall we?”
“Lead the way, Sir.”
“Hmm. I kind of like that coming from you.” He started walking toward the center of the pit, where the others were waiting for them. “I just can’t get used to your staff calling me sir all the time.”
“Now you know why I asked you and several other people here to call me by my first name. ‘Princess’ and ‘Your Royal Highness’ get tiresome after a while.”
He gave her a sideways glance. “Do you want me to stop calling you princess?”
“No. It sounds different coming from you; it is like a term of endearment.”
Stopping short, he turned her toward him and stared into her eyes. “It is, Tahira. Just like when I call you sweetheart. You know, sometimes I feel like I’m Cinderella and you’re Princess Charming, but when we’re alone or with close friends, it’s just Darius and Tahira—I like it that way.”
“So do I.” She giggled. “And you would be Cinderfella, not Cinderella.”
“Huh?”
She laughed harder at his confused expression. “It is an old movie with Jerry Lewis and very funny. I watched it many times when I was younger. One of my au pairs loved old American movies and introduced me to many of them. We will have to watch it sometime when we are not in the mood for horror films.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
As they approached Ian, Devon, and Kristen, Tahira noticed something right away—besides the fact the two men were sitting in comfortable armchairs, and Kristen was relaxing on a large pillow on the floor next to her husband with her eyes closed and her head resting on his thigh. No, what Tahira noticed out of the ordinary was that neither man stood to greet her. That had never happened before.
“I can see those wheels turning in your head, Tahira,” Ian said with a amused smile. “You’re in my territory now. In this club, you’re a submissive, and the Doms here will treat you as such. You hung your tiara at the door—you’ll get it back on your way out.”
Tahira’s eyes narrowed as she cocked her head to the side. “Hung my tiara? I did not wear a tiara. Is that one of your Americanisms? What does it mean?”
“The real saying is ‘hung your hat.’ It means ...” Darius responded as he took one of the empty, leather seats across from the other two men. “... in here, you’re just like everyone else. No special treatment; no being called princess by anyone other than me; and no one bowing to you because of the crown you wear outside of The Covenant. It also means, when I want, you’ll be at my feet, like Kristen is at Devon’s.”
