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Afraid her voice would break and let her sisters know how deeply she’d been hurt by what she felt was Viktor’s rejection, she simply nodded and turned back to her work. Tegan was right, whatever happened to whichever sister, they would always have each other and together they could and would get through anything.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed. She’d gone down the rabbit hole trying to find what she needed to make an evaluation of a pre-Columbian pot. She looked up to make a quick glance at the clock, which sent a surge of panic through her. She had lost hours—precious, irreplaceable hours—being caught up in Viktor's world and the fallout from that. Well, at least she didn’t have plans for the night. She could make up for lost time. Wallowing in self-pity wasn’t going to help her meet the looming deadline for the valuation for this client, who was new and very wealthy.
Her fingers flew over the keyboard, the clacking of keys a steady rhythm that drowned out the chaos in her mind. Emerson threw herself into her work with a fierce determination, the pain of the day’s events fueling her focus and propelling her relentlessly forward. The world outside their office faded away, and she barely noticed her sisters’ comings and goings. As the sun began to set, the rain returned, and she allowed herself to become lost in her task.
Time passed in a blur. Slowly, the knot of hurt and annoyance in her chest began to loosen, replaced by the satisfaction of productivity.
“Em?” said Tegan coming to stand behind her.
“Yeah?”
“Viktor’s here. He sent his car earlier, and Kendra sent it and the driver back to him. He wants to see you.”
“Well, we don’t always get what we want. Viktor will just have to live with disappointment.”
“I don’t think he’s going to want to hear that.”
“I don’t give a damn what he wants. If you don’t want to tell him, I’ll do it myself.” Emerson pushed back from her desk. “Maybe that’s better. Maybe he should see firsthand that you don’t send others to do your dirty work.”
She strode into the foyer of the old mansion her parents had purchased and begun to restore. Emerson, Tegan, and Kendra had taken the life insurance money from their parents’ deaths and sunk it into finishing the renovations. The estate still needed a lot of work, but at least the main house was done and made for an impressive home in which to entertain clients.
“Viktor, I’m surprised to see you,” she said entering the foyer.
“What is wrong with you?” he snarled.
“Me? Absolutely nothing. I would have thought Kendra made it clear to your man that I was tied up this evening. Oops, maybe that’s not the best line to use with a guy who gets off on that kind of thing. But seeing as he didn’t make it clear, let me try. I am busy. I have things to do and have no more time to waste on you. Get out of my house, and if you’ll send me a bill for the money you expended on the upgraded security system, I’ll see that you’re reimbursed.”
“It is obvious we need to talk.”
“Quite the contrary. I’ve said all I have to say.” She spun on her heel to head back to her office, calling over her shoulder. “Oh, and take your men with you. You and anyone working for you is no longer welcome on this estate.”
“Emerson, I don’t understand. I demand that you talk to me.”
She had really had enough. She had an evaluation to finish—well, she was almost done, and it wasn’t due for a day or two, but she was damn sure done with him. Whirling back in his direction, she stormed back to him.
“You demand? You demand? You? Really? I thought that’s what you had your housekeeper for—to dispose of the trash when you were done with it. Hot news flash for you—I am nobody’s trash.” She poked her finger in his face. “You do not have any right to demand anything from me.”
He leaned forward aggressively. It took everything she had to stand her ground.
“That collar around your neck says I do.”
“I’ll go to the jeweler and have it cut off, repaired, and returned to you as soon as possible.”
Viktor blinked—a hint of pain flashed across his handsome, dark features, before being replaced by an arrogant anger that should have scared her to death, but instead, she found herself wildly turned on.
“You will do no such thing,” he growled, bending at the waist, putting his shoulder into her middle, and lifting her up so that her world was turned upside down.
“Viktor,” said her sisters in one voice.
“Not another word,” he commanded and interestingly enough, her sisters shut up, which was fine as Emerson felt quite capable of handling her own business. “Your sister will be perfectly fine. She is my submissive and has signed a contract. Emerson, reassure your sisters that you are in no danger.”
For a moment she said nothing. He smacked her on her ass.
“He’s right. I’m in no danger, but the same can’t be said for him when he puts me down.”
Instead of being angry or intimidated, Viktor just laughed as he strode out of the house, leaning into the vintage, chauffeured Rolls Royce limo and placing her on the seat before following her in, stepping over her, and pulling the door closed.
“Back to the Carriage House, and take the long way around,” he said to the driver before rolling up the glass partition. “Would you like to tell me what you think happened this afternoon?”
