The Flirtation (The Submissive 10) - Page 40

crying—she was being stupid. Seriously. Who cried because they got their period, right on time, other than women who were trying to get pregnant? No one, that’s who.

She didn’t even want to have a baby right now. Having a baby was definitely Not. In. Her. Plans. At. All.

So why was she sitting in the penthouse bathroom, sobbing because she got her period?

Someone knocked on the bathroom door.

“Just a minute!” She splashed more water on her face and opened the door. Abby stood waiting for her with the same worried look on her face she’d had every time Lynne saw her for the last two weeks.

Lynne had gotten out of the cab at the penthouse after leaving Simon and Nathaniel, planning to pull her stuff together and check into a hotel, only to find Abby waiting for her. Abby said she was not quitting and that was that and there was to be no arguing. She then pulled out a pint of double chocolate chip fudge ice cream from the freezer and two spoons. Lynne told her she wasn’t being fair, but secretly she knew she had the world’s greatest boss.

Abby had confessed about telling Nathaniel and tried to apologize. She’d said she didn’t want to, but he’d asked her specifically if she knew whom Lynne was playing with. Lynne wouldn’t allow her to apologize, telling Abby she would never expect her to lie to her husband for her.

Lynne stepped out of the bathroom, and Abby put her arms around her. “You got your period.”

“How’d you know?”

Abby shrugged. “Just a hunch. Come sit down.”

Though she had decided to stay on as their nanny, she’d told them it was only through the end of the year. By then she’d be able to teach, and come January, she wanted to have a teaching job and an apartment of her own lined up.

They sat on the couch. It was Saturday. Nathaniel had gone into the office and the kids had spent the night with their cousins. Lynne was thankful Abby didn’t have plans; she needed the company.

“I didn’t get a chance to talk to you last night when we got in,” Abby said. “But have you talked to Simon yet?”

She shook her head. “No. He’s sent a few texts, left some voice mails, but I haven’t replied. Even those stopped after a few days.”

“Did you expect anything else? You left him, remember?”

“So?”

“So. In his mind, he’s giving you time. He figures since he never told you to leave or that he didn’t want you, and since you haven’t replied to any of his attempts to contact you, that he’d leave you alone for a bit.”

Lynne eyed her warily. “Did he tell you this?”

“No, and Nathaniel hasn’t either. I just know how men think.”

“The exact opposite of us?”

Abby laughed, and Lynne had to smile. It felt good. She hadn’t done a lot of smiling for the last two weeks.

“Do you still love Simon?” Abby asked.

Lynne squeezed her hands into fists, digging her nails into the palms of her hands so tight, she knew there’d be marks. Did she love Simon? Yes, of course she did. That’s why it hurt so much to be separated from him. Why she cried when she found out she wasn’t pregnant, even though she didn’t want to be pregnant.

She wasn’t just in love with Simon; she was stupidly in love with him.

“Yes,” she admitted to Abby, and some part of her felt free at the admission.

“Then we need to come up with a plan to get him back.”

• • •

Lynne wasn’t going to call. It hurt, but Simon had come to grips with it. Mostly.

He sighed. Okay, not at all. He hadn’t come to grips with it at all.

But it didn’t matter that he couldn’t accept it. That was the way it was, and no amount of wishing on his part would bring her back. Sometimes he questioned if he’d done the right thing in giving her time. Maybe he should have flooded her in-box with e-mails and her phone with texts. Somehow, though, he didn’t think that was the answer either.

No, the only person who could change anything was Lynne, and that wasn’t going to happen. He wouldn’t even allow himself to ask Nathaniel about her or to check with Luke to see if she’d submitted her application for membership at the club. A clean break was a good break. Or that was what he told himself anyway. During the day it was easier to believe. At night it was downright impossible.

He had followed up with Luke and Nathaniel about Anna Beth, ironically enough. The local authorities found enough evidence to have her arrested, thanks to Jeff and his team. As it turned out, she’d hacked into Lynne’s computer, apparently through a bug attached to a photo. Simon, along with Nathaniel and Luke, saw to it that she was denied bail while she awaited trial.

It was a hollow victory.

Of course, lately everything felt hollow. He hadn’t realized how much of his free time he’d spent talking to Lynne or planning something to do with her. Now that there was no need to plan anything and since she wasn’t talking to him, he often found himself with nothing to do. On the upside, he’d put in a lot of overtime the last two weeks.

By Sunday afternoon, two weeks after she’d left him, he was slowly going crazy. He’d been told by his supervisor not to even think about coming to the office today. He tried working on a puzzle, but doing so brought back memories of Lynne. One of his friends mentioned going to Luke’s club, but Simon had shut the man down before he finished asking the question.

He briefly considered getting drunk, but decided it wasn’t worth the headache or the hangover. Then he decided just thinking that made him part old fart, part stick-in-the-mud. He fully expected to wake up one morning with nothing better to do than to yell at people to get off his lawn.

The sound of the doorbell brought him out of his misery long enough to sadly laugh that maybe he could tell whoever that was at the door to get off his lawn. Practice, he decided.

He didn’t even bother to check who it was. He threw open the door, ready to yell at whoever was unfortunate enough to be standing on the other side, only to freeze at the sight of Lynne.

“Hi,” she said.

Hi.

Fucking hi.

Like she hadn’t stormed out of his life as fast as she’d breezed in. Like she hadn’t ignored him for the last two weeks. Like she hadn’t torn him to so many damn pieces he felt like a puzzle that would never get fully assembled.

He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her and breathe in the scent of her hair. Hold her until she swore she’d never leave and confessed how much she’d missed him. He wanted to grab her and pull her down the hall to his bedroom and do evil and wicked, wicked things to her body.

Instead, he leaned against the doorframe and said, “What are you doing here?”

Uncertainty clouded her expression, and her lower lip trembled. He could have kicked himself. This was what he’d been wanting for the last two weeks. What he’d been hoping for. What was he thinking with that being the first thing out of his mouth?

“I came to say I’m sorry. I thought about making you a card,” she said. “But decided that probably wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“A card?”

“Yes, I’d put on it ‘I’m sorry I acted like an ass. Will you spank mine?’”

He couldn’t help it; her answer was so unexpected, he laughed and laughed until his chest hurt. “Come in.” He held the door open for her.

She stepped tentatively inside and waited for him to lead the way into the living room. He pointed to a nearby chair. “Have a seat. Can I get you something to eat or drink?”

“No,” she said, sitting down. “I’m good. Plus, I’m so nervous right now that if I ate or drank anything, I’d just throw it up, and that would be worse than the spank-me card.”

Her hands twisted in her lap. She was looking everywhere except at him. She was obviously nervous as hell and didn’t know what to do about it.

“Calm down, Lynne,” he said. “I’m not so upset that I’m going to hurt you.”

She looked for a minute like she

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