Enthrall Him (Enthrall Sessions Book 3) (14 page)

He swung for me and shoved me up against the door, pressing me against it, his fingers digging into my arms. “You have no idea what you’re doing.”

“Interesting response.”

His irises were large and black and full of anguish. “Where. Is. The. Key? Final time of asking.”

“Just tell me why you were there?”

He hands balled into fists. “Then you’ll tell me where the key is?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll stop asking questions?”

“Can’t promise that.”

“No, you will, Mia.”

“Listen to yourself, Cameron. You’re still hurting.”

He broke away and stepped back, staring at nothing.

“I want to see you happy,” I said. “See you free from what’s haunting you.”

“This is my burden to carry.” Cameron looked around the prison. “This is not up for discussion.”

My gaze held the ground.

It was easier not to face his fury. “Please Cameron, share it with me. After all you and I have been through together, let me help you.”

Silence seeped from the walls.

“You chose this place to do this?” he said. “God, you’re infuriating.”

“It reminded me of the cell you imprisoned me in,” I said softly.

“That was different.”

“How?”

Cameron reached out for the wall and turned, leaning against it. “I flew to Afghanistan to assist with the rescue of an officer. A captain in military intelligence.” Cameron closed his eyes. “The officer had been captured by local militia. I flew out there to be part of the debriefing team upon his extraction.”

“Why did it have to be you?” I said softly.

His eyelids lowered as if he’d found himself back there, in that place of remembering.

“Cameron?”

He shook his head, as though coming round from a thought. “Other prisoners who were released before him relayed he’d experienced a mental breakdown. He’d been tortured to the brink of death.”

Oh
, I’d not expected this.

And from the way Cameron glared at me, he knew it too. “Before he was captured, he obtained intel. The kind that would lead to saving thousands of lives back in the States.”

“You were chosen because of your special skills at extracting subconscious information?”

“Following the officer’s extraction, I was required to access his mind with expedience. We were against the clock.”

A door slammed and it made me jump.

Cameron remained still, distant, unaffected. “I bulldozed into the officer’s subconscious.” His gaze met mine. “You’re probably wondering if the intel proved worth it? I’ll never know.”

“Why?”

“A need to know basis.”

“What happened to the officer?”

Cameron measured his words. “I decimated his psyche.”

I brought my hands up to my mouth.

“And I was called a fucking hero,” he said.

“But you saved all those lives?”

“Did I?”

“Doesn’t Shay know?”

“Shay?”

“He cares deeply for you.”

“He’s also fired.”

“No, don’t.” I stepped forwards and took Cameron’s hand. “Fire me instead.”

“Once we go back to L.A. you’ll return to Enthrall.”

There was no revelation there.

“You once told me I was starting out with a squeaky wheel,” I said. “You told me I needed to forgive myself. Perhaps if you forgive yourself—”

“Key.” Cameron pulled his hand from mine and flicked his fingers.

I reached into his pocket and gave it to him.

He closed his eyes.

“Just like the mind,” I said. “It’s always right there.”

“Mia, I know you mean well. I’ve gone over this story a million times. All I’m left with is reliving hell.” Cameron turned the key and pulled open the door.

“I’m sorry.” Self hate welled and I regretted my stupidity. “This is my fault. You’re right. I shouldn’t have pressed you. I’m a ridiculous specimen.”

He pulled me into a hug. “No, Mia. You’re everything that is beautiful in this world. You are my way of forgetting. My refuge. My freedom.” He rubbed his face with his hand. “Our time together has been good for me.”

“You’ll find love, Cameron. You deserve to find someone special.”

He stared at me for the longest time. “It’s a challenge when you refuse to even love yourself, Mia. That’s the issue. It’s no real mystery.”

“Oh Cameron.” I hugged him tighter.

“Happy now?” He took in a deep breath. “I’m a complete and utter bastard. And now you know.”

“You did it to save lives.”

“I betrayed a war hero. Instead of bringing him home and letting him recover in a nurturing, calm environment, I kept him out there in the desert in a filthy, sand filled tent.”

“Everyone who knows you loves you.”

He gave the softest sigh. “You were the first woman who made me forget my ugliness. Your sweetness, your innocence, your unending forgiveness. This is why you’re perfect for Richard.”

“You did what you thought was right.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Cameron, I want to take away your pain like you did mine.”

“You were innocent, Mia. What happened to you wasn’t your fault. For me it’s different. Pain also serves as a punishment.”

A shadow appeared just outside the door. The tour guide had returned. “Did you see everything you wanted?” he said.

“Yes, thank you,” said Cameron. “I believe my friend here has seen the worst of the monsters. Quite a lasting impression, I’m sure.”

“Cameron.” I looked up at him. “No.”

“I can still taste the sand,” he whispered.

 

 

CHAPTER 10

 

 

SHAY PICKED UP on Cameron’s tension.

Back in the Rolls, he gave me a questioning frown, but I turned my face away, too guilty to look at him and feeling like I’d visited hell myself.

Not only had I reminded Cameron of the pain he’d buried deep, and ruined a perfectly lovely day, I’d let Cameron know it had been Shay who’d tipped me off about Afghanistan.

The ride through London was icy, but it was colder in here.

I reached for Cameron’s hand.  

He gave mine a reassuring squeeze, though he continued to stare out, his frown deepening.

“Lover’s tiff?” said Shay.

“Except that Mia’s not my lover,” said Cameron, his glare turning on me. “She’s a submissive in training. She needs to remember that.”

I withdrew my hand from his, mortified.

A sign for Chelsea Crescent was followed by a long row of white stucco-fronted houses curving around the slim road, with black fencing all matching and the long row of trees perfectly trimmed.  

“Those are pretty earrings,” said Shay, glancing over at Cameron.

Cameron arched a brow at him.

Tension returned.

“When it snows,” said Shay, breaking through the silence, “this place looks like a Christmas card.”

“When will it snow?” I asked.

“January, maybe,” said Shay.

“More likely February, sir,” our driver called back to us.

We’d be missing the snow, but not the rain. The weather had turned even colder and the sky darkened. Grey clouds sat low and threatened to pour.

A flash of thunder sounded way off.

The moody weather reflected Cameron’s current state. He looked tortured, unreachable, that sternness having returned with no hint of lifting. He let me hold his hand but refused to look at me, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

The car parked outside one of the houses. All three of us headed into number twenty-three.

This place was cozy and much bigger once you were inside. Decorated in true British fashion, with couches and big armchairs, and books everywhere. The back wall of the living room was naked brick. Black and white prints hung on the wall, all of them depicting city life. They reminded me of the ones in Richard’s office.

I followed Cameron into the living room, trying to think of words to placate him.

“We’ll be staying here for a couple of days,” he said, flicking on lights here and there.

He removed his coat and hung it on the rack in the entranceway. He eased mine off my shoulders and hung it next to his. Shay threw his onto the big leather couch.

Cameron walked through the open plan kitchen until he found what he was looking for. He dished out a couple of aspirin to Shay, who apparently wasn’t joking about his headache.

“Have I fucked up?” asked Shay.

I was too embarrassed to admit it was me that had.

Cameron screwed the lid back onto the pill bottle.

Shay looked fraught. “Speak to me.”

“It’s my fault,” I blurted.

“I’m going to take a shower,” said Cameron.

“Is it because I expressed concern for your safety?” said Shay. “About you stepping out publically?”

Cameron leaned on the counter. “You want to do this now?”

“Yes,” said Shay. “I hate you being pissed at me.”

“Go take a look around, Mia,” said Cameron.

I folded my arms across my chest. “As your executive assistant, I believe I should stay.”

Cameron’s stare stayed on me.

A chill spiraled up my spine, but I refused to back down. Shay was in trouble because of me.

Cameron’s focus settled back on Shay. “You talked to Mia about Afghanistan.”

Shay swapped a wary glance with me. “Only mentioned that’s where we met.”

“Cameron, you told me you met in England?” I said in Shay’s defense. “At a polo match?”

“Technically,” said Cameron.

“It was the first time we got to talk openly about our lifestyles,” said Shay. “As you can imagine, bringing up your interest in BDSM is not a common discussion in a war zone.”

“What were you thinking?” said Cameron to him.

“I’m sorry. You trusted me to keep your private life private.”

“Tell him how many lives were saved,” I said to Shay. “He needs to know what he did was worth it.”

Shay glared at me. “Haven’t you done enough damage?”

“Mia, go and explore,” said Cameron.

“This is my fault,” I said. “I want to make it right.”

“Go and unpack, Mia,” said Shay. “I put your suitcase in your room. Last door down. Check it out.”

Cameron threw me a reassuring smile on my way out.

It didn’t help.

The floorboards creaked when I went up the stairs, and I made a mental note to ask Cameron how old this place was. The banister was carved in wood with old scratches along it revealing its age. This place had an elegant yet well worn feel. Listening for any sign of an argument downstairs, and ready to head back and jump in if Shay needed me, I continued on up.

I found my suitcase placed in the corner of a small bedroom. The bed was big enough for one.

Zipping open the suitcase, I found my Hello Kitty makeup bag and pulled out my contraceptives. Even on this new time zone, I’d perfected popping these pills.

I went in search of the room with Cameron’s case.

The simple, yet high ceilinged room with dark wood everything gave Cameron’s space a Victorian feel. The décor had an old world feel to it. I’d stepped back in time to a simpler era.

Back on the ground level, using a rear hallway so as not to disturb them, I found more rooms. That old world feel was a common theme. Farther down was an office. There was a pantry in the back with a large selection of wines and a good selection of packets and boxes with lavish labels, all proving even here Cameron loved his little luxuries.  

Peering out the back window, I could see the garden was small but beautifully tended. The stairs leading to the basement were too tempting not to investigate. Descending slowly, careful of my footing, I creaked my way down.

I’d found
the
room.  

All the fixtures were in chrome: the Saint Andrew’s Cross, the wall secured contraptions in which the dominant tied his submissive. My breath caught when I saw the line of whips, chains, and paddles resting on chrome shelving.

My heart skipped a beat when I imagined us spending time in here. That familiar tingle of excitement bloomed, along with that low lying ache that made me swoon when I thought of him.

If his mood ever lifted.

Maybe he’d punish me in here and all would be forgiven.

There, on the floor, a tiny object caught the light. I went over to take a better look. An uneasy feeling hit me as I picked up the diamond earring. A sub had lost this during a session. My mind went there, wondering if Cameron had fucked her before or after she’d lost it. Their sex so fierce that her jewelry became a casualty of their breathtaking tussle.

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