Page 68 of The Billionaire Submissive
“It’s not the money. I’m in a relationship myself and I don’t think he would understand.”
“Please. We’re at our usual hotel. I thought the familiar room would help, but it’s just not working. I need you.”
“Right now?”
“Yes, please. Ralph is so…” Hannah’s voice broke and she sobbed for several moments before she could continue. “This is our last try. He can’t take it any longer.”
In many ways, Ralph was a lot like Donovan had been in the very beginning. His submissive needs conflicted with what he believed a man had to do and be to be considered arealman. When he couldn’t become aroused for his loving, beautiful wife, he felt inferior, weak and undeserving. It didn’t matter how much she loved him, how hard she was trying. He didn’t feel like he was a man worthy of her love.
If Donovan needed me, would I ever be able to refuse him? Of course not. And if I couldn’t help him, I’d get on the phone and call every single dominant I knew until I found someone who could help me do whatever he needed. He has to understand why I couldn’t abandon them.
After yesterday’s parking debacle, the last thing she wanted to do was drive into St. Paul again. “I’m not dressed, I don’t have any equipment, and I can’t easily get home to pick anything up.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Hannah insisted. “Please, I just need you to coach me a little. Please. I’ll send a taxi to get you, wherever you are.”
“All right.” She gave the warehouse address and hung up to call Donovan’s cell phone.Please, please pick up. Please understand.
Of course she got his voice mail. “Donovan, I’ve got an emergency situation here with one of my old clients. I’m going to go help them. You know what it does and doesn’t mean. I’ll explain everything to you in person, okay? I’ll even phone Dmitri and make sure he has pie on the menu tonight.” She paused a second, trying to decide what else to say. She hadn’t planned to tell him how she felt in a voice mail, but he’d understand the gravity of the situation better if she also gave him the truth.
Taking a deep breath, she gathered her courage. “I know why, Donovan. Because you love me. And I love you. I’ll be at the Saint Paul Hotel. As soon as I’m done, I’ll call you.”
Shaking hands with each man at the table, Donovan tried to hurry up without being rude to his new business partners. He didn’t have to check his watch to know the meeting had run long, and the last thing he wanted was for Lilly to get it in her head she ought to drive to Dmitri’s on her own. His secretary came to the door and waved a note at him.
“Please excuse me.”
Nodding and smiling, he made his way to the door and stepped outside.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your meeting but…”
For once, Miss Wruthers managed to a make a statement instead of a question, although its incompleteness still managed to set his teeth on edge. “Yes?”
“I have something you need to see. It’s important.”
He checked his watch. Damn it, it was already 5:00 p.m. If he didn’t get Lilly to dinner soon, she’d fall over from exhaustion after failing to even notice the lunch getting stale again, and tonight, he had an especially nice surprise planned. “Yes, what is it?”
Still, Miss Wruthers hesitated, crumpling the note in her hand. “I did something you might not like.” She peeked up at him, paled and squeezed her eyes shut. “I asked Andy Wells to do some digging and pretended the order came from you.”
Keeping a fierce grip on his temper, Donovan took a deep breath before replying. “I see. On whom?”
“Lilly Harrison.” She opened her eyes and reeled back a step at the look on his face. “It’s a good thing I did too. Or you wouldn’t know she’s still going to see her clients.”
“What?”
“She is. Andy tailed her to the Saint Paul Hotel just a few minutes ago. He called it in right away.” She shoved the note at him, but he didn’t bother reading it.
“Why on earth would you feel it necessary to investigate my…” He hesitated a moment, because he certainly wasn’t going to say “Mistress” and “girlfriend” didn’t compare to the depth of his attachment to Lilly.
Miss Wruthers’s eyes narrowed with a dark, nasty emotion he’d never seen from her before. Spite. Disdain. And most of all, hatred.
“…fiancée?”
Miss Wruthers choked like she’d swallowed her own tongue. “You’d marry aprostitute?”
He gripped her arm firmly and dragged her back toward her desk. “Pack your things. Get out of my office. Immediately.”
“But she is,” Miss Wruthers cried, looking bewildered. “I heard you arguing the day she came into your office dressed like a hooker. I had Andy start following her immediately. I thought you’d be glad to know she’s been lying to you. She never stopped seeing her other clients. She’s with one right now.”
He clenched his hands at his side to keep from throwing the woman out. “You can’t possibly understand what she does.”
