dakota_trace_his_christmas_gift_myrnas (6 page)

Her giggling stopped and her smile disappeared when a
voice she hadn’t heard in more than thirty years filled her kitchen.

“Myrna, this is Grant. I need to see you. I’ve just
arrived in Dublin a half hour ago. I’ll be jumping on the train and should
arrive in Killarney in a couple of days. Make some time for me, we need to
talk.” 

Fury like none she’d ever experienced before filled
her. She’d thought she’d known anger earlier this evening, but it was paltry
compared to this hot burning rush of emotion. “Like hell I will. You rotten
bastard! You can take the long train to Hell before I’ll ever let you tell me
what to do again.”

She hit the delete key once more. Her ire hadn’t even
begun to ebb away when the final message played. It was her bank.

“Mrs. Doherty, its Charles D. Spurnman at First Trust
of Dublin. I’m in charge of Consumer Accounts in our Dublin office. I was just
reviewing our records and was disappointed to see your husband had closed out
your account two days ago. I was wondering if there was anything we could do to
retain you as a loyal customer. Please give me a call.”

Myrna’s breathing halted. She swayed on her feet -
the shock of the message cutting through her fury. “Oh please tell me he
didn’t… Not again!” Grabbing the wall to keep from falling, tears stinging the
back of her eyes, she made her way to her small home office and to the brand
new laptop Amery had given her for Christmas last year. With trembling fingers
she turned it on. Within minutes she was on the bank’s secured website. There
in black and white was the evidence. Her rotten, lying, cheating, deserting
bastard of a husband had cleaned out every penny she’d saved over the past
thirty years. Her savings were gone. Her retirement money was gone. Her
checking was empty. No wonder her insurance check had bounced.

Fear had her mouth drying out and her shoulders
slumped. How was she supposed to survive? How could Grant have taken the money?
It wasn’t even his! She’d earned every last Euro that had been in her accounts.
None of it was his! He shouldn’t have been able to touch it.

 While she’d never pursued a divorce under Irish law,
the accounts, which had been originally joint accounts, had been closed out and
she’d opened new ones in her name alone. At Amery’s insistence, she’d added him
as the only person with power-of-attorney so Grant couldn’t do this again. Her
husband - estranged or not, wasn’t supposed to have any access to her accounts.
That’s what both Amery and the bank had assured her. So how the hell had he gotten
her money?

Thinking back now, Myrna realized she should’ve taken
Amery’s offer to help pay for her divorce when they had lifted the referendum
against it in ’95.
But I just had to be stubborn. I didn’t want him spending
any more money on me - after all he done. I didn’t think it would matter. Why
the hell couldn’t that bastard Grant Doherty just stay gone?

Nearly an hour later, she shut down the computer with
numb fingers. She’d done some research online. Her future didn’t seem as bleak
as it had earlier, but it still wasn’t rosy. She’d have to cut back on her
charities and go back to work. She’d call the staffing service in the morning
and see if they could place her. With nearly thirty years of secretarial
experience, it shouldn’t be an issue to find her work. Then her next call would
be to her former bank. She had to find out how Grant had gotten her money and
if there was any way to get it back. She had to get it back…for her sake and
her son’s.

It was either that or she really would have to move
to America and live off her son. She refused to go crawling to Amery to get her
old job back. He’d helped her pick up the pieces last time Grant had screwed
her over, but she couldn’t allow him to do it again. Determination filled her.
She was a grown woman - as such  she now had the skills to support herself.
Wandering back into the kitchen, she poured herself half a cup of coffee before
adding first the liquor and then the half-cream. That’s when she noticed the
rumpled piece of paper on the counter.

She’d completely forgotten about calling Sanders
back. Sighing, she took a sip of her drink. After a quick clean up the kitchen,
she trudged back over to the phone. She was just getting ready to dial the
number when the phone rang. Answering it, she wasn’t surprised that it was
Amery. In the background, she could hear the faint noises from the club – the
moans and slaps of leather striking flesh. Her breathing increased as her
imagination ran wild. She imagined him standing where she’d been earlier in the
evening, staring down at scene below him. Next to him at his feet, she was
kneeling waiting for his direction. He was absently playing with her hair. When
he tugged on a strand, she looked up at him. His mouth parted and…

“It’s obvious, you made it home. I’ll let Sanders
know.” The curt tone in his voice set her on edge. Despite his calm tone, she
could tell he was pissed. She twirled the cord around her finger, debating on
whether or not to tell Amery what had happened. She couldn’t do it – couldn’t
admit what a fool she’d been not to take his help with the divorce. She
couldn’t tell him how that rat bastard Grant had cheated her again.

“I’m sorry. I had a few things to take care of. I was
just getting ready to…”

“Well now you won’t have to. Good night, Myrna.” The
sound of the dial tone in her ear had tears welling up. She’d never been on the
receiving end of Amery’s wrath before. It hurt. Slowly hanging up the phone,
the tears which had been threatening since she’d ran from the club, spilled
over.
Sometimes,
she decided,
when it rained it poured.

Clicking off the light to the kitchen, she carried
her drink into the living room. After changing into her flannel nightgown, she
settled into her favorite chair, cupped the barely warm mug of coffee and
stared into the flames in her fireplace. It was going to be a long night. She
needed to think about all the things that had happened and what she was going
to tell Amery when he found out.
Sure as the sun rises in the east, the bank
is going to contact him and there’ll be pure hell to pay.
A low moan
escaped her at the thought of Amery turning her over his knees. She was
hopeless, she decided.

* * * *

Myrna’s eyes grew heavy and flames wavered. Try as
she might, she couldn’t forget the fact her louse of a husband had screwed her
over again. As she skated along the line of slumber, her mind turned towards
Amery…
Her Amery – the strong Master who taught others to be like him.
The flickering need to submit to him teased her along with the flickering light
of dawn. The sun had just breached the skyline as she drifted towards sleep. A
small smile covered her mouth at the thought of accepting what Amery offered
her. In her dreamy state, she thought she’d heard the deep rumble of his voice
before a pair of strong arms picked her up. The tantalizing scent of his
cologne and warmth of his body teased her senses as she slipped further into
sleep. Her last hazy thought was of relief.
Amery – he’s here. He’ll take
care of me.

Once slumber claimed her, Myrna never realized the
arms that carried her, the scent of his cologne, and huskiness of Amery’s voice
were real. She never felt him deposit her gently on her bed before pulling the
covers over her. Nor did she hear the exasperated sigh he gave as he stared
down at her. Her body had finally given into its need for rest. It didn’t
realize when she awoke there was going to be pure hell to pay.

* * * *

Several hours later in Myrna’s office, Amery clacked
away on her laptop and felt absolutely no guilt at his invasion of her privacy.
The need to know what she’d conveniently forgotten to tell him last night had
driven him. The shock of returning home to find a voice mail from the bank had
pushed past his anger. Now he wanted answers – from both Myrna and Mr.
Spurnman. Dragging a hand through his hair, he scowled as he reviewed the
browser history on the screen. He wanted to know if she’d known or not before
he accused her of anything.

When he’d listened to his voice mail, his first
instinct had been protect Myrna. Then he’d wanted to go out and beat the living
hell out of Grant. That had been quickly followed by irritation that Myrna
hadn’t confided in him. If Spurnman had called him, he’d also called Myrna. So
the first thing he’d done after finding the worn out Myrna slumped over in her
chair – sound asleep, was to check her answering machine. She’d been so tired
she hadn’t even stirred when he’d replayed the bank’s message.

Tapping his chin thoughtfully, Amery sat back in the
chair while he waited for the page in front of him to load.
So why hadn’t
she confided in me?

It was one of the many questions he was going to ask
her when she awoke. Even though he’d been short with her last night on the
phone, she still should’ve told him. As her friend and as the sole person to
hold her Power of Attorney, he had the right to know about any major changes in
her financial background.

A low growled emerged from his throat when the page
finished loading. It was for a local staffing service. Her intent was quite
obvious. She was going to go back to work instead of asking him for help.

“I’m gonna beat her arse!” The threat escaped through
his gritted teeth as he surged out of the computer desk chair.

* * * *

Myrna snuggled lower. Despite the faint urgency from
her bladder, she refused to give up the sleepy warmth surrounding her. She knew
she’d fallen asleep in her chair and shouldn’t be this comfortable, but she was
reluctant to let go of the vestiges of sleep. That was until a masculine bellow
startled her in wakefulness.

“Myrna Marie Doherty!”

Myrna’s eyes flew open in surprise. She gazed around
at her bedroom in disorientation. How had she gotten here? The hazy
recollection of being held – no carried, she decided-astonished her. It must
have been Amery who had carried her to bed. Her cheeks began to burn. He’d
actually picked her up. They were both too old for that nonsense.
Why hadn’t
he just wakened me?

The sound of her bedroom door hitting the wall had
her rolling onto her side to see the entryway to her room. Amery’s thick body
filled the opening before he strode inside with jerky motions. As his face came
into view, she tried to scoot away.

“Don’t move!”

With his gray eyes glittering with anger, it was
quite obvious he was pissed. Before she could scramble out of bed, he launched
himself at her. A startled ‘oomph’ escaped her as she found herself pinned
under two hundred pounds of masculine fury. Instinctively she struggled against
his pinioning hold. Wiggling, kicking, and even smacking at him all to no
avail. With his superior strength, she found herself flat on her back with both
arms pinned above her head by one firm hand, while the other caressed her
cheek.

“Let me go! Amery, what the devil do you think you
are doing…”

“Silence, slave!” His dark command had her heart
pounding frantically. Her eyes darted away from his intense gaze, even as an
illicit thrill shot through her. Under the flannel of her gown, her nipples
hardened into tight peaks.
It’s just a physical reaction to having a man in
my bed for the first time in years. It’s not because of his dominance, or the
fact I’ve wanted him for so long.
Even as she half-heartedly tried to
convince herself, her body made a mockery of her denial. Her nipples remained
hard, her heart raced, and between her thighs, the traitorous flesh began to
weep.

“Look at me, slave.” The harsh demand had her
responding despite her desire not to. Her eyes met his. The anger was still
there, but under it she could see hurt.
Hurt? That can’t be…

“When were you going to tell me?” The thumb on his
free hand ran over the corner of her mouth, before sliding down her neck to her
shoulders, then traveling out and up her out-stretched arms.

“Tell you what?”

His mouth firmed with displeasure, as a frown
appeared between his eyes. “Are you sure you want to play this out? Are you
forgetting that as the person who holds your Power of Attorney, the bank has to
call and advise me about Grant closing out your accounts?”

Her breath caught in her throat as uncertainty filled
her. When she’d spoken to him last night she honestly hadn’t thought about the
fact that the bank might contact him. It wasn’t until later in the evening that
she’d thought about it. What else did he know? Uncertainty turned into fear.
Did he know about Grant’s call? Her lips parted on a nervous breath before she shrugged.
“I don’t know how he even got the money out of the account.” She tried to tug
her hands free, but stopped when he tightened his hand around them. “I was
planning on calling the bank this morning.” She pushed up with her hips. “Let
me up. I need to call them now - before it gets any later.

“It’s nearly three o’clock in the afternoon, Myrna.”
He pressed her hips back down with his own. She nearly swallowed her tongue
when she felt the impression of his erection against her mound. A rough hiss
escaped him before he ground against her, his eyes darkening even as his
breathing became more erratic.

“Three! I need to…” She wrenched on her arms before
she kicked out with her legs. When he held her so effortlessly she realized she
wasn’t getting free until he decided to let go, his actions had the beginnings
of desire inside her melting away.