I yanked out the earbud again. “I’m not that kind of girl.”
“Your irises are dilated.”
I pushed to my feet. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Dr. Rhodes.”
She reached out and grasped my hand before I could walk away. “Then you won’t want what’s in the box.”
Madeline had suggested that wearing the necklace would show I belonged to him entirely—like the woman in the video. I knew the term used for those kinds of women.
Submissive.
“Damien will know what it symbolizes?” I whispered.
“Yes.” She studied my reaction. “The one who wears it is the chosen one. An elite submissive. This is their emblem.”
Reaching into my purse, I pulled out the box. “I don’t want it.”
“You don’t want that level of passion?”
“You got me drunk.”
“One tequila shot. What you’re feeling isn’t the booze, Pandora. It’s because your true nature desires this.”
“You’re a bitch.”
“Quite frankly, I’m flattered. And now you know why I’m not the one wearing it.” She gave me a sweet smile. “I’m not that kind of woman.”
“You’re more likely to wear a strap-on and fuck them in the ass?” I surprised myself with that one.
“Very much so. I’m a dominatrix.” She held out her hand. “Now, Virgin Princess, you have ten seconds to be honest with yourself or I’m taking that back.”
“What if I decide to wear it?”
“Your permission is not required for Damien to do whatever he wants to you while the pendant hangs from your throat.” She lowered her focus. “Including what I just showed you—and other things.”
“What other things?”
“Do you want me to spell it out for you on my whiteboard? I could sketch a level of debauchery that would make those photos look tame.”
My breath caught as a rush of adrenaline spiked in me. I was reliving the sensations that had captivated me when I’d been bound with those silken ties.
I glanced around the room self-consciously, as though others might guess what we were discussing.
“He won’t care if I’m wearing this or not.” I struggled to convey the obvious. “Damien hates me.”
“That’s because you trigger him.”
“In a bad way.”
“Not in that way,” Madeline purred. “He assumes his fantasy of you could never be realized because of your innocence. Which means he’s concerned you’d look down on him if you discovered his secret.”
“Never.”
“Would you like for him to adore you?” She reached for one of the shot glasses of tequila. “How would you feel if you were able to bring him to his knees?”
“He likes that?”
“Figuratively speaking.”
Damien adoring me?
Was such a thing possible?
If wearing the necklace meant he would talk with me again, I’d have the time to prove my case. Perhaps he could be persuaded to plead with his father not to pass mine over as a candidate. If I pleased Damien, he’d make that scandal go away.
My body thrummed from the shot of Patrón—or maybe it was from the possibilities of what was to come. Those photos and that footage would likely never fade from my memory, their imagery promising to slide into my dreams and have me soaking wet before I awoke.
I yearned to feel the same level of pleasure as that woman in the video, whose erotic writhing had left me mesmerized. I wanted to be her.
“I’d never do anything like that,” I fibbed.
I glanced at her phone, wanting to see the footage again.
She gave me a knowing smile.
“What kind of woman does that?” I insisted.
“A woman who respects herself, who is honest about her needs and doesn’t let the world dictate her happiness.”
“That’s impossible for someone like me.”
“I disagree.”
I yearned to have that kind of life. It was as though Madeline had sensed my deepest and darkest fantasies. She knew what Damien needed…and this was it.
“Are you all right?” she asked softly.
I’d never been envious of anyone until three minutes ago when I’d seen that woman hanging between two men, their cocks buried deep inside her. Such an experience was forbidden to me.
I would never know that level of passion. “Girls like me don’t get to have those kinds of fantasies fulfilled.”
“You’re a woman now. You can make your own decisions.” She threw back the rest of the tequila, seemingly not feeling the burn. “Stand before Damien wearing the necklace. Watch his reaction.”
“He won’t even talk to me.”
“Oh, you’ll capture his attention.”
Doubt lingered in my mind. Could I follow through with what she was suggesting?
Seeing the conflict in my expression, she shrugged. “When in doubt, kneel. Stare at his cock and then look up at him as though he’s your only salvation.”
I blushed. “The things you say…”
“Pandora.” She smiled at me mischievously. “Open the box.”
With my head held high, I strolled out of the ballroom, still feeling a buzz from the tequila. I quickly found a private corner and sank into a leather chair behind two large plants with lush, sprawling leaves, feeling grateful for a place to hide.
I clicked open my purse and slowly pulled out the velvet box, glancing up to see if anyone was watching. Then I eased open the lid.
The silver key pendant looked so pretty on its delicate chain. I ran a fingertip over the glinting diamonds that lined the setting. At the top of the key were four round circles and within each of those lay a fleur-de-lis sparkling with secrets.
Still, to me it was just a necklace.
Madeline had called it an emblem.
Curiosity had me lifting out the fine chain and securing the catch behind my neck. Reverently caressing the pendant, I nearly swooned remembering the footage I’d glimpsed.
Surely no one here would know about the necklace’s true meaning so there was no shame in wearing it. All I had to do was find Damien and grab his attention. If he responded, I’d lead him away to a more private part of the hotel. We’d get to talk properly this time and hopefully see through our differences.
He’s into all that kinky stuff…
Knowing he liked to do all those things that Madeline had shown me would probably make me blush when I saw him again. He wouldn’t know why, though—wouldn’t know I’d discovered that he liked his sex immoral, filthy and lust ridden and tantalizingly debauched.
Returning to the ballroom, I saw my parents sitting at the same table. They were deep in conversation with another couple. Pride rushed through me that they were entrusting me with such an important diplomatic mission. Letting them down wasn’t an option.
My heart skipped a beat when I realized that Damien had left.
Men like him tended to gravitate toward the quieter lounge where they could make their plans to rule the free world. I went looking for him there, and paused when I saw him.
He was speaking to his father. They were huddled close together, proving they were intent on scheming—two intimidating men of power holding tumblers of hard liquor, their private security detail not far away.