What on earth possessed him to tell Maura about his mother? She'd sat still in that intensely attentive way she had, listening carefully to every word. Maybe he felt mildly remorseful for the afternoon; finding her limp and helpless on the floor and then forcing her to share the most personal of activities with him.
He rubbed a hand over his brow, wincing as he hit the bruise on his forehead. He still had to smile. Vicious little bitch. James knew she'd crack at some point; she was too stubborn and proud to endure the utter helplessness without attempting to kill him sooner or later.
***
He'd taken an irritating amount of torment earlier today, showing up to the meetings with the Albanians looking like he'd tangled with a crew of Manhattan skinheads, and lost.
Kingston had been especially horrified. Pulling him aside, she’d hissed, "What the hell is going on here?”
James didn't even bother to wear a tie to the meetings, perversely pleased at the ring of bruising around his neck. His Morrighan was an arousingly vicious little thing. Dismissing all other comments with a wave and a salacious grin, he’d simply shrugged and said, "An adventurous night, and worth the battle scars." This satisfied everyone else, flooding him with filthy laughter and obscene jokes. Except for his fellow Corporation officers. Fassell looked at him with barely contained rage and jealousy, and Kingston with shock and growing speculation. Unfortunately, he was still in such good spirits from the impassioned mauling Maura had given him while bouncing on top of his dick the night before that he didn't notice Kingston’s expression.
***
Gently stroking her cheek as Maura nuzzled closer, James felt something he hadn't in a long time- a stab of guilt. He remembered that look of betrayal and terror tonight as he injected her again, ignoring her begging to spare her the needle.
She would be controlled in any way he deemed fit. Learning that she was the operative placed in his department sent him into a rage so incandescent that his heart had nearly stopped.
He was the Corporation's master at getting the answers needed from whatever poor soul ran afoul of them. But using physical pain was clumsy and ineffective. The deepest fear of your opponent was the key. Drugging and incapacitating Maura sent her into a tailspin of terror and anxiety. His relentless babying - taking away any last bit of her autonomy would eventually force her into the docile acceptance he required as payment for her betrayal.
Looking down at her face, the long lashes fanning across her cheeks, James felt a surge of arousal. There were times when he was inside her, that she slipped into that submission so easily- her relief of handing power over to him was almost palpable. Why did she have to be so damned stubborn? And beautiful? So brilliant, and bloody funny? Remembering her babbling about mountain lions and sharks tonight made him shake with silent laughter, stopping as his moving chest stirred her. Maura must have a constitution like pure spring water- he'd never seen anyone with such inexperience with drugs.
He must be more careful, James thought, to make sure her dose wasn't too high.
He shifted a bit, putting one arm behind his head, idly running his hand up and down her arm. The drugging and malleable behavior in his new bride served a greater purpose now. Kingston's distaste for his Pet was increasingly apparent. Keeping Maura off her threat list was crucial. He couldn't carry this deal, protect her from Fassell and then add Kingston to the list. Fassell's value to the Corporation was his brutishness and willingness to do anything - no matter how loathsome - to get the job done.
Morgan was different: she attacked from behind while smiling in that maternal way of hers. If Kingston was determined to kill someone, it would happen.
James frowned, his hand slowing. Fassell's increasing instability was dangerous for the Corporation and for Maura. He needed to be finished off. But Kingston's desire to control him was becoming just as onerous, calling him “dear,” attempting to act as a parental figure. A cold smile curled his lips.
One vicious parent had been bad enough. Perhaps it was time to dissolve Jaguar Holdings.
Chapter 21: "You just gave a £15,000 diamond necklace to a whore?"
In which Maura is audacious.
"Ah, Pet." She knew his soothing voice, could have picked out that beautiful tone in a crowd of a thousand others. Maura blinked, trying to force her drooping lids to open. A weight on the bed rolled her frame into his, as James put his large hand to her forehead. "Time to wake up, darling."
"What time is it?" she whispered, not opening her eyes.
"Time to get up," he replied implacably.
Maura turned her face away. "I don't want to... every night is the same." She burrowed her face into the pillow. "Please, Sir. Just let me sleep."
***
James’s brow furrowed. Even weakened, he was used to her glaring daggers at him, spitting like a cat when she woke from these deep, drugged periods of sleep. Sighing, he slid his arms under her and picked her up easily, walking into the bathroom and putting her on the shower bench, turning on the cold water. Her enraged scream as James took off his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves made him smile. "There, there," he soothed, "isn't that better, Pet?" He sadistically scrubbed Maura down with the hand-held shower head, keeping it on cold. In a moment, she was fresh and smelling of vanilla and honey from the soap he'd selected for her.
"I hate you," she hissed, teeth chattering.
As James helped her dress in soft linen lounge pants and a tank top, she mused that this must be hell. An eternity of slack and useless limbs manipulated by someone else, a blank, mindless flesh doll. The vision made her shudder and caught his attention. "You must be starving, let's sit on the terrace and you can eat."
He looked her over, Maura's hands laying uselessly on her lap. James pushed down that odd feeling of discomfort and asked, "Do you feel like you can walk? You'll feel better once you're moving again."
***
Maura gritted her teeth. There were so many things she wanted to say; hateful, cruel things that would shred his spirit, the way he was mangling hers. But she only nodded, raising her arms for his help. He caught her looking wistfully at the beach, but she didn't say a word.I'm done begging him,she thought.Not ever again.Her toes were curling with impatience, her feet needing to run. Tucking them under the lounge chair, she stared at the food on the table. It was set for dinner; with china and crystal wine glasses and several covered dishes filling the air with enticing smells.
James served them both, roast lamb and rice, several different salads, and warm naan. He kept up a light conversation of amusing moments during the day while Maura ate slowly, trying to analyze what item he'd drugged. She drank water, refusing the wine he offered.
