Bound to be Dirty (16 page)

Stepping through the hallway and riding the elevator, she was utterly aware of her near-nakedness. The light abrasion of the coat's poplin pricked her nipples to attention. Air brushed her butt cheeks. With every stride, the coat split at the bottom, baring her naked legs almost to the top of her thighs. By the time she reached Neville's door, her whole body was sexually sensitized.

She tapped her knuckles against the door, catching her breath in anticipation.

The door opened and there he stood, in slim-fitting black pants and a crisp white dress shirt. But he was more than a handsome man in expensive clothes; Neville had an air of confidence, of command, that called out to something deeply female inside her. Oh yes, he was exactly as she remembered.

“Pet.” He flashed one of the charming smiles he'd bestowed on her when they first met.

“Hello, master.”

“Take off your coat.”

When she made to walk through the door, he put up an arm to bar it. “Do you remember the rules? You obey.”

She frowned, not understanding. “I was going to come in and take off my coat.”

“I did not tell you to come in.”

“You want me to . . .” Shocked, titillated, she glanced around. The hallway was empty, but someone might emerge from a room or elevator. “I'm sorry, master. I misunderstood.” Fingers trembling with excitement, she undid the belt and buttons, took another quick glance, then stripped off her coat.

With his free hand, he took it, but he kept the door barred so she couldn't enter.

Now her entire body trembled—with arousal and with fear of discovery. How long would he keep her standing here?

He scanned her from head to toe. “Very good.” He moved back from the door. “Come in, Cassandra, and tell me what brings you here.”

She hurried into the sitting room of his suite. He'd called her Cassandra. Did that mean she could now call him Neville? Or was this another test? He hadn't told her to sit, so she didn't. She stood in front of him, still a few inches shorter despite her five-inch heels. “I will be honest with you, master. The things we did together, the pleasure I felt with you . . . it's made me wonder.” She forced the words, taboo words she hardly dared think, out of her mouth. “You may be right about my sexual nature.”

She gazed up at him, letting him see her confusion and her need. “Master, I need to find out. I know that's not what you want. You want someone who knows she's submissive. But I won't lie to you, I won't pretend. I'm asking you to be my teacher, to help me discover who I truly am.” And then she bowed her head, awaiting his verdict.

He kept her waiting. She didn't move, didn't speak again.

Then he said, “Go into the bedroom, pet. In my black bag, you will find padded cuffs for your ankles and wrists, and a blindfold. Put them on the bed and wait for me.”

She'd expected the leash and collar. In fact, her neck felt naked without the collar. If he cuffed her wrists and ankles, she'd be completely in his power, unable to free herself unless she spoke her safe word. Her pussy clenched and the juices of arousal moistened her labia and inner thighs. “Master, may I speak?”

“You will not question me. You must trust me.”

“I do.” To give her pain, screaming orgasms, and enlightenment. “I only wanted to say that my safe word is—”

“Orchid.”

“You remember?”

“Did I not tell you of a dominant's responsibility to look after his submissive's well-being? Be assured that if you say ‘orchid,' I will cease whatever I'm doing.”

Cease? No pain, no pleasure? She'd lose Neville's attention, his single-minded focus on her. And she knew, without him having to say it, that he would be displeased.

The idea of Neville ceasing was far less bearable than the idea of being handcuffed and blindfolded, entirely at his mercy.

An ultimatum. Lily rested her head against the back of the couch and reflected on that. Her first reaction was,
How obnoxious
. And yet, in every relationship, each partner had the ultimate power to walk away. Wasn't that the dilemma she and Dax were dealing with: deciding what each of them needed out of their marriage in order to stay? For her, it was love, trust, more time together, and children. A family.

She glanced around the beautifully decorated living room, where a stack of medical journals,
Canadian Lawyer
magazine, a child-rearing book, and a couple of stuffed animals attested to the family that lived here.

This. This was what she wanted. Could she have it? She saw many parallels between herself and Regina, but Dax was a very different man from Anthony. It was his difference, in part, that had first attracted her—and, to be honest, still did. His edge, his raw masculinity, his tough-guy independence. But as part of that package, came his need for freedom, his craving for the wilderness.

Would those qualities make it impossible to have a future together?

* * *

T
wo things, real quick,” Jennifer, the receptionist, said as she caught Lily leaving one examining room and heading to the next. It was Friday morning, December thirtieth. “Hope it's okay, but I told Melinda Yee she could bring Jimmy in. He's got an infection and high fever.”

“That makes four emergency squeeze-ins. But of course she can bring Jimmy.” So much for the notion of closing at noon and doing some paperwork. Patients came first. “Second thing?”

“Your husband called and wants you to call him back. He figured you wouldn't be checking your smartphone.”

Lily glanced at her watch. “Would you tell Eustace Grant that I'm running a little late? He's in room—”

“I know. Go, call your husband.”

Lily hurried back to the large office the doctors shared and called Dax. “Things are crazy here, so I don't have much time.”

“I'll make it quick. I'm picking you up at twelve.”

“Thanks, but I'm going to stay for the afternoon.”

“You said you were closing at noon.”

“We've been squeezing in emergency patients, and when we do close I need to do some paperwork.”

Dr. Vijaya Murthy hurried into the office, did a finger wave to Lily, pulled a medical tome from the bookshelf, and rushed out again.

“Let the other doctors handle the patients. I'll be there at twelve.”

She huffed. The story of their relationship these days: steps forward, then steps back. Why couldn't he respect her needs? “Dax, I don't have time to argue.”

“Then don't argue.” A pause, then, “It was supposed to be a surprise. We're going up to Whistler for the weekend.”

“What?”

“I've booked a place.”

“Dax! Are you insane?” She shook her head vigorously, her short hair flying out as if she'd been hit by a static charge. He'd made secret plans without consulting her? “What were you thinking?”

“That you need some time off work. That we might both enjoy it. That it'd be good to get away.”

All good points, she had to admit. “All right, I can see that.” She lowered her voice as Dr. Harry Chew came in, opened a storage cupboard, and scanned the shelves. “If you'd discussed it with me a few days ago, I might have agreed, and prepared for it.” Harry pulled out a prescription pad and hurried off. That was another thing the clinic needed: a better system of organizing and ordering office supplies. And maybe an office with more privacy for the doctors.

“I did ask you when the clinic would be closed. And what the hell's wrong with the occasional surprise?”

He had asked, at dinner on Monday. They'd been reminiscing about that wonderful Christmas in Moose Jaw. Had that given him the idea? “I don't do so well with surprises,” she admitted, picking up the Zen garden's miniature rake and drawing patterns in the sand.

“You were more flexible when you were younger.”

“I had fewer responsibilities.”

“You need a break from all those responsibilities.” He paused. “Noon. I'll be in the parking lot behind the clinic.” Then he hung up.

Should she call him back?

“Dr. Nyland?” It was Jennifer again, poking her head through the office door. “Is everything okay?” Her gaze dropped to the rake in Lily's fingers.

Lily put it down and stood. “My husband announced that he's picking me up at noon and taking me up to Whistler for New Year's.”

“Oh my gosh! How romantic!”

Romantic? Well, yes, she supposed it was. For a woman who liked surprises. “I'm a little stunned.”

“You'll have a fabulous time. And you sure need—I mean, deserve—the break, Dr. Nyland.”

Another person who thought she needed time off. Lily glanced at the Zen garden, wondering if it had come from Jennifer. “What about the emergency squeeze-ins?”

She waved a hand. “I'll work it out. Mr. Grant's waiting for you.”

Leave it to a receptionist to manage the patient load? That went against the grain, but Dax had given her no choice. “Thanks, Jennifer.”

Dax had given her no choice.
The thought gave her pause. Was this a dom game? Or just Dax being a take-charge guy, like he used to be? Either way, a thrill of excitement rippled through her.

Anxiety followed quickly. A long weekend at Whistler, just the two of them. That was very different from spending a few hours together in the evening. Their feelings for each other . . . surely they'd become clear over the weekend. What if they found out they really no longer loved each other?

She took a deep breath. Well, then they'd know. That was what she wanted, wasn't it? A resolution. Divorce would be horrible, but if she truly no longer loved her husband, she'd be able to move on.

A thought struck her. What if she did love him, but his love for her had died? Her heart clutched with pain. But no, she shouldn't be pessimistic. Surely Dax wouldn't have planned this getaway if he wasn't hopeful that they'd renew their love and bring fresh commitment and energy to their marriage—and to building a family.

Sixteen

D
ax pulled the Lexus into the parking lot behind the medical building on Broadway. The weather was on his side, offering up a crisp day and clear skies. Now if only Lily was as cooperative. At least she hadn't phoned or texted to say no.

He'd taken a risk. But if he'd asked her, she'd have found reasons not to go. She'd been brought up to overanalyze and plan things to death. It had always been a challenge to get her to loosen up. But when she did, it was worth it.

If this weekend worked out, it'd prove they could still have a great time together. Hopefully, they'd relax, have fun, recapture the love they felt before doubts crept in. Then they could restore their marriage to how it used to be. Now that his soul had healed after Afghanistan, he'd be happy to come back to Vancouver more often, perhaps intersperse remote jobs with local ones—if Lily decided that she wanted to make space for him in her life the way she used to.

This was his new strategy. Complaining that she worked too hard and suggesting she handle her clinic differently only got her back up. Instead, he intended to show her the benefits of taking time off to be with him.

The building door opened, letting out a woman with a cane, a young guy carrying a baby, and then Lily. She glanced around, saw the car, and headed over.

Inside the car, she said, “Whistler? We're really doing this?” Her tone said she hadn't decided if it was a good or a bad idea.

“Yup. I rented a cabin.” He pulled out of the parking spot.

Her eyebrows lifted. “A cabin? Not a hotel room?”

He'd called contacts at Whistler, mostly other pilots, and located a cabin owned by Vancouver people who used it for weekends and holidays. This Christmas they had a brand-new baby and were staying in Vancouver. Occasionally, they rented out the place, and mutual friends had vouched for Dax. “We needed a cabin.”

“Oh we did, did we? Why's that?”

He stopped at the parking attendant's booth and paid, then drove out onto the street. “It'll be like that Christmas in Moose Jaw.” Snuggling by the fire while the snow came down. Making love. “It's a log cabin with a real wood fireplace. We can drink rum toddies by the fire. It's an easy walk to Whistler Village and they have clothing stores, so if I didn't pack the right stuff for you—”

“Wait a minute. You packed for me?”

“Yeah, so we wouldn't waste time. For meals, we can pick up groceries and cook, or get takeout, or eat at nice restaurants. Whatever you want.”

“Oh Dax.” She sighed. “You should have talked to me first.”

“And have you run through a whole list of reasons why it couldn't work?” He glanced at her. “You have admin stuff to work on. You need to look for a locum. What if a patient has an emergency? Am I hitting the main points?”

“Some of them.” She gazed out the windshield then, quietly, added to his list. “What if we don't get along? What if it's a disaster?”

He swallowed. Yeah, of course the possibility had occurred to him. “Then we'll know, Lily. And that's not such a bad thing, is it?” He eased the Lexus to a stop at a red light, behind several other cars.

Lily turned to him. “It's better than carrying on the way things have been.” She swallowed. “But you wouldn't have planned this trip if you thought we had no hope.”

He reached over to squeeze her pant-clad leg. “You got that right.” And she wouldn't be sitting beside him if she didn't think so too.

She rested her hand on top of his.

Regretfully, he had to free his hand when the light changed.

She reached into her purse and pulled out her phone. “Haven't had a chance to check messages today.” A moment later, she said, “Kim wants us to break the one-third rule.”

“She's hooked and wants to finish the book?”

“No, just the scene. Apparently there's one in a BDSM club?”

“There sure is.”

“Kim says that, purely for the sake of our discussion, it makes sense to finish the scene.”

“Purely for the sake of discussion.”

She tapped the screen. “And Marielle's response is, no surprise, let's for once throw out the rules and finish the book.” More taps. “George agrees. She wants to get it over with.”

“You gonna vote for breaking the rule?”

“What do you think?” Her fingers tapped busily away.

“I think your curiosity's aroused. Right?”

“Right.”

“Curiosity's a good thing to have aroused, but there are even better th—”

“Dax?” she interrupted. “Where are you going?”

Finished with her phone, she'd looked up and realized that he'd turned off Smithe Street onto Burrard, and crossed West Georgia, which wasn't the route to Whistler.

When he didn't answer, she said, “Are we going somewhere before we drive up to Whistler?”

He tossed her a cocky grin, his spirits rising with each block they traveled.

“Wait a minute. You're wearing your flight jacket. We're flying up?”

“Why would I drive when I could fly?”

“Oh my gosh, you're flying me to Whistler!” Her voice rose with excitement. “Dax, you haven't taken me flying in forever.”

He shrugged. “We've both been busy.” He glanced over. “You didn't say you wanted to go.”

“You didn't invite me.” She made a snort-like sound. “And isn't that typical of how things went wrong with us?” She turned toward him. “Thank you for doing this.”

“Thanks for agreeing.” Teasingly, he added, “Finally.”

“Give me long enough to get my head around it,” she responded in the same light tone, “and I can be spontaneous.”

They both chuckled. Light turned to darkness as the road took them under Canada Place. When they came out into the sunshine again, Lily said, “You were always good for me that way. You helped me be more spontaneous. More confident and—”

“Confident? Lily, you've always been one of the smartest, strongest, most goal-directed people I'd ever met.” He'd always liked how different she was from his ditzy mom.

“I was going to say, more confident about trusting my instincts. My heart. My passions.” Her tone was solemn.

He pulled into the Vancouver Harbour Heliport parking lot, turned off the engine, and released his seat belt so he could face her. “You mean about the two of us?”

Her eyes, the shade of the pale blue winter sky, were clear and candid. “Yes, and about my career.”

“When I met you, you already knew what you wanted to do.”

“And that my parents would disapprove. I hadn't told them I wanted to be a plain old family practitioner. You supported me, which gave me the courage to follow my heart.” She made a face. “Even though it meant they'd give me flack about it for the rest of my life.”

He bit back a disparaging comment about her parents, not wanting to get her back up. “Maybe you're not curing cancer patients like Anthony, but you make a difference every day in your patients' lives. That seems pretty damned important to me.”

Her eyes softened and went misty. “You always believed in me.”

“And you believed in me.” He touched the gold helicopter pinned to the collar of his flight jacket. Battered now from all the places it had traveled, and from more than a couple of close calls, it was his lucky charm, his symbol of his wife's belief in him. “You gave
me
the confidence to go after what I wanted.” Including her, which seemed kind of ironic now.

Her gaze rested on the pin then lifted to his face. She touched his cheek. “How did we lose all of that?”

Her hand was so warm, so gentle. Caring, he hoped. He took it between his and shook his head. “Not being together enough?”

“Each of us being so independent?”

“Could be.” He lifted her hand to his mouth, pressed a kiss into her palm, and folded her fingers around it.

When he'd returned to Vancouver last Saturday, he'd believed their marriage was only worth keeping if they could recapture their passion and love. On Sunday, they'd confessed that they weren't sure they still loved each other, or wanted to save their marriage. Now here they were: struggling through awkward conversations, experimenting with kinky sex, heading off for a weekend in snow country. He grinned at her. “Let's go fly, sweetheart.” The endearment popped out, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd used it.

“Let's go fly.”

Her endearment for him had been “my love.” He refused to let the fact that she didn't use it discourage him. They both had hope, and that was more than they'd had in a long time.

He and Lily climbed out of the car and he opened the trunk. He handed her an overnight bag. “This has jeans, a sweater, and your sheepskin jacket. They'll be more comfy for the flight.”

“Thanks.”

He hefted his duffel, her suitcase, and a shopping bag with the lunch he'd brought, and they headed for the waiting room.

“Did you arrange this with the company you've been flying with this week?”

“Yes, SeaSky.” Automatically, he made an assessing scan of the bright, half-full waiting room that served the companies that flew out of the public heliport. It was the usual mix of businesspeople, students, and tourists. He gave a second look to a slim brunette, twentyish, sitting alone; she looked feverish and was rubbing her head. Sure hoped she didn't have something contagious. Not that it was his concern today, as he had only one very special passenger.

“I need to do some paperwork and a pre-flight check,” he told Lily, who was gazing out the large windows at the harbor view. “I'll come get you in fifteen minutes.” He went behind the desk to greet a couple of SeaSky staff and fill out the necessary forms. They'd given him a Bell 206B Jet Ranger turbine engine with seating capacity for four passengers. A classic machine he always enjoyed flying. He carted their luggage out to the waiting helicopter and stowed it, put on his helmet and did his check, then went in to collect Lily.

The passengers stood in a cluster, their backs to him, voices high-pitched, watching something he couldn't see. People shifted, and between bodies he glimpsed Lily, down on the floor. Heart leaping with anxiety, he rushed forward.

No, thank God, she was okay. The brunette girl he'd noticed earlier lay on the floor, with Lily kneeling beside her. Clad in jeans and a cream cable-knit sweater, his wife looked young and beautiful—but her manner was pure medical authority. She directed rapid-fire questions to a panicky looking girl and boy the same age as her patient, then spoke into her phone. “She's had the flu. A lot of vomiting over the past week. No doubt dehydrated. Friends report she had a headache and seemed a little disoriented. She obviously wasn't monitoring her blood sugar.”

Dax checked the girl's right wrist, saw the medical alert bracelet, and put two and two together. Diabetic coma. He had some paramedic training, but Lily clearly had this under control.

He spread his arms and urged the clustered passengers away. “Move back, folks. Let's give the doctor room to work.”

As Lily gave the girl's vital signs, he heard an approaching siren and realized she was conveying information to the ambulance crew. “She needs IV fluids stat,” she said, “and possibly insulin.”

Over by the front door, Jorge, one of the SeaSky staff, stood waving his arms to direct the incoming ambulance. Dax ensured there was a clear path from the door, and seconds later the paramedics rushed in.

He watched proudly as Lily worked with them, and in no time the girl was hooked up to an IV bag and being loaded onto a stretcher.

When Lily stepped back, he went to her side. “Do you need to go with her?”

Her troubled gaze flicked to him, then back to the woman. Could she bring herself to trust the patient to someone else or, as usual, would her job come first?

Shit, he was a selfish bastard. “If you need to go, I understand.”

Slowly, she turned her gaze back to him. “St. Paul's is only minutes away and the paramedics have it under control.”

Relieved, he caught her hand and squeezed it. “She's damned lucky you were here. What was she thinking, not taking better care of herself?”

“Kids think they're invincible. Her friends said they'd had the trip planned and she really wanted to go. She'll pay more attention next time.”

Thanks to Lily, there'd be a next time. He put his arm around her shoulders. “You did good, Doc.”

She shrugged. “Simple stuff. If I hadn't been here, the paramedics would have saved her.”

“You gave them a head start so they knew exactly what to do when they arrived.” He pulled her tighter. “What you do is important.” If he told her enough times, would she stop letting her parents disrespect her?

“Thanks.”

“And now your chariot awaits.”

She put on her jacket, he collected her overnight bag, and they walked outside and down the ramp to the helicopter. She gazed at the shiny blue and white machine. “This is exciting.”

No, she was exciting. And impressive. And sexy. “Lily.” He cupped her head between his hands.

“Dax?” Then, as he bent to kiss her, she smiled and rose to meet him.

Her lips were chilly in the cool air, but warmed quickly. He kept the kiss slow and tender, aware that the people in the waiting room could see them.

When their lips parted, her gaze was solemn. “I want this. Us. I want our love back. But it feels like such a big task, trying to fix all the things that have gone wrong. How are we going to do it?”

Like he had magic answers? She was the planner. “One step at a time, I guess. And here's the first.” He ushered her into the helicopter then took his own seat and they buckled up. A flight was due in from Victoria, and he needed to get this bird in the air.

She touched the clear window beside her. “I remember the first time you took me up. How disconcerting it was, having almost nothing between us and the sky. With the huge windows, it's so much more immediate than being in a plane.”