Asylum

Chapter 24: An Unappealing Ruse

Monday morning

It took conscious effort not to gnaw my lower lip, and even more to relax the clenched fists in my lap. I pressed my lips together to redistribute my sheer tan lipstick and turned my attention to Ivan where he sat next to me on the town car's back seat. I knew why I was nervous – last night I had waged an impassioned, and ultimately successful, campaign to spend 24 hours on an isolated boat with an unchecked, unstable, homicidal maniac. What I wanted to know was why Ivan looked as though he was fighting his own battle somewhere beneath his smooth, bronzed skin.

I reached over and laid a cool hand atop his, wrapping my fingers around it and squeezing gently. He turned away from the window to meet my eyes and gave me a resigned smile before lifting my fingers to his lips to kiss them lightly.

"I have something for you," he said suddenly, as though one of the warring halves of his brain had just won. Reaching out to open a cabinet against the rear of the front seat, he pulled out a large, square, black leather box, about three inches deep, and put it into my lap. I recognized the name of the jeweler embossed on the lid; apparently, he had purchased this before we'd left New York, but for whatever reason had waited until now to give it to me.

I studied his chiseled face briefly for clues. His demeanor was not one of a gentleman giving a surprise token of affection to his paramour; the tension around his eyes and the grim set of his mouth I could more easily imagine on a sergeant handing a rifle to a green recruit at the front lines. I could not have lifted the lid any more carefully if I'd thought there was a bomb in the box.

It was not a bomb, of course, but a necklace – a smooth, wide choker of rose gold, two solid arms hinged in the back that clasped in the front at the top and bottom of a circular cutout. Dangling inside that void was a large, perfect pink pearl. It was beautiful, in a brutally simple and ostentatious way, but nothing that I would ever choose to wear in a million years.

"It's ... lovely," I said awkwardly.

Ivan leaned over and removed the choker, snapping the box closed and putting it on the floor. "I want you to put it on now, and don't take it off until we're back in this car. Okay?"

I stared at the necklace warily as he triggered the cunningly hidden clasps and opened it wide. I had pinned my hair up into a chignon this morning, at Ivan's request, so I only had to turn towards him slightly for him to secure the choker around my throat. His hands were warm as they brushed against my shoulders, but I shivered as though he'd brushed my skin with icicles.

"It reminds me of ... a collar," I commented, striving to keep my tone light. The quiet click of the clasps at my throat made me swallow reflexively.

"It is a collar," Ivan agreed. "And hopefully Emilio will also recognize it as such."

My eyes flared and my fingers flew to the necklace. It wasn't tight or uncomfortable in any way ... at least, in any physical way. But I felt its delicate grip around my neck like a golden shackle.

"I told you that how we presented you was going to be important. This is how Emilio will accept your presence on board," he said softly as he pulled my hands down to rest in my lap. "I can't bring you as an employee – a personal assistant or worse, a bodyguard – and it would be an affront to my host to bring a woman for sex when he always makes a point of providing ... partners ... for overnight business meetings."

My eyes narrowed. I suspected he was about to say "playthings" instead of partners, which gave me another disturbing glimpse into how Emilio Santiago treated those around him. So far, I was not mollified.

"But as we discussed in New York, bringing a 'girlfriend' to a business event would be unacceptable for other reasons." His eyes were fixed on our entwined hands, and I watched him slowly trace faint circles on my palms with his thumbs, gentle with the healing scratches. "Pretending that you're a new submissive that I'm training explains why I needed to bring you along, and why I won't be spending time with any of the other women, and why I'm not sharing you with anyone else" – my eyes widened; I had never considered that might be expected – "all without insult or, hopefully, even a word spoken."

I felt his gaze on me and looked up into his eyes, blue like a northern sea in a winter storm. I swallowed and gave a single, slight nod. "So Emilio will know what the collar means?" I asked, a little afraid of the answer.

"Yes. He's mused aloud about having a Dom/sub arrangement on more than one occasion. He completely gets the appeal of absolute power and sexual submission, but is totally uninterested in anything like exclusivity, longevity, or responsibility toward the submissive. He treats women like sex slaves anyway, so he doesn't see the upside of the arrangement for someone like him."

"But he'll believe that you would be interested in something like this?"

Ivan sighed. "He's teased me repeatedly that I should try it, since I am so into having everything tidy and under my control. To shut him up, I finally agreed that he might be right, and said I'd look into it when I got settled in New York."

"Awesome," I breathed quietly.

He tilted my chin up so I would meet his gaze. "You and I know this is just a charade, and you can throw the collar into the East River as soon as we get home for all I care. But for the next 30 hours or so, it's your talisman. Think of it as a good luck charm, something that will keep you safe."

"Like a Kevlar vest."

He smiled. "But one that looks better with a bikini or evening wear."

I couldn't help but smile back at him, even though my stomach felt like it was doing drunken gymnastics. "I'd still rather have the Kevlar vest," I told him. You can do this, I told myself. And since the alternative was waving goodbye to Ivan from the dock as he walked into that viper's nest alone, I would do it really fucking well. For the first time since meeting him, I really wished that Mateo were coming with us.

The car stopped smoothly, and Marshall and Mateo got out, their pale suits and dark sunglasses reeking of professional security. Marshall stood by the car on high alert while Mateo stalked the pier with casual menace, mentally tallying and dismissing potential threats. I watched him for a moment through the town car's tinted rear window.

"So what should I do for my part of this ruse? How am I supposed to act?" I knew already that "submissive" was not going to come easily to me, but I was pretty sure I could pull off "scared shitless" without any difficulty. Hopefully that would suffice.

"You don't really have to do anything; just focus on me." He had been scanning the surroundings as his security team was doing, but now turned his full attention to me. "Since we'll let it be known that you don't speak Spanish, no one is going to try to engage you in any difficult conversations. I'm not even going to introduce you; you're there for my pleasure and convenience, not to make friends."

I raised an eyebrow at his instructions, but Ivan shook his head. "None of that," he scolded me, reaching a thumb up to smooth my brow back into place. "Nothing that looks like you're questioning my decisions, about anything. It should look like you don't have a thought in your head other than how to please me in every way."

"Mateo's choice in reading material should help with that impression," I observed sardonically. I might as well express some of my feelings now, since it looked like I'd be in mostly-mindless-sex-slave mode for the rest of my stay in Miami.

Ivan's door opened, Marshall giving him the go-ahead to get out of the car.

"When in doubt, keep your eyes down and your ears open. I'll tell you where you need to be and when, and don't act tired or bored, or even interested in anything that goes on anywhere on that boat."

I schooled my face with conscious effort. "I can see why Emilio thought you should try this whole Dom/sub thing," I teased quietly. "Calling the shots definitely suits you."

His face might have been carved from stone as he got out of the car and held out a hand to help me. "Let's hope Emilio thinks so."