Elevating Eve (Fairford Affairs #4)

3. Jonathan

CHAPTER 3

Jonathan

H ours later, Eve sat huddled in a leather armchair in his office, a white knitted blanket wrapped around her shoulders. A soft knock sounded on the door, and Zach Potter peeked his head in without waiting for an invitation.

“I brought her some tea,” the Manor’s receptionist said, keeping his voice low. Pushing the door open a little more, he held up a silver tray with a steaming mug, a few types of sugar, and a silver spoon.

“Thank you,” Jonathan said, motioning for him to come all the way into the room. “That’s very kind of you.”

Zach always took it upon himself to take care of everyone, staff and guests alike. He’d stayed at the Manor for hours past his usual quitting time, for the sole purpose of bringing Eve some tea once the police finally left. The man had the biggest heart of anyone Jonathan had ever met.

He shuddered to think what the Manor would be like without him—not a thought he could bear considering for more than a second. Less than a year ago, Jonathan feared Zach was on the verge of quitting. Thank fuck that crisis had been averted.

The fact that Zach’s chaotic journey to find happiness had placed Eve in his path only just occurred to him. Wasn’t that an interesting thought.

Laying the silver tray on the end table next to Eve, Zach asked, “Is there anything else I can get you, honey?”

She shook her head, not looking up. “Thank you,” she murmured, taking the mug. She cupped it in her hands, the steam wafting gently over her face as she took a single, tiny sip.

Christ, what a day. The poor thing had to be exhausted.

Two police cruisers arrived twenty minutes after Jonathan called, quickly taking Frank into custody. They pulled the gag out immediately, tossing Jonathan’s ruined tie onto the ground and giving him a look that said, Really?

He had exactly zero regrets on the subject. Especially after Frank started screaming a string of expletive-laden insults as they dragged him away.

Eve looked so fucking fragile as she held her hands over her ears, attempting to block out the hateful words. It hadn’t improved as the police asked her questions, two men towering over her as she struggled to speak through her tears.

Relief washed through Jonathan when a third officer—a woman this time—ordered the others to step back, then sat down beside Eve on the floor. “We’ll take this at your pace,” the woman promised. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

Eve rallied after that, drying her tears away with one hand, the other once again pressing the bloody handkerchief against her cheek. The strength it took to answer all the officer’s questions after what she just went through took his breath away.

She’d need that strength to make it through to the end of this process, especially if Talley took this to court instead of taking a plea. Jonathan made a mental note to reach out to his lawyer first thing tomorrow.

Now here they were, nestled in the safety and peace of his office. She watched over the rim of the mug as Zach all but tiptoed back out into the hallway, closing the door behind him with barely a sound.

“I like him,” she said softly, still looking at the door. “He’s always so nice to me. The way he talks to me...it makes me feel like I actually matter.”

Her choice of words made his chest ache. Not that it surprised him. A guy like Talley would do everything he could to make a woman feel less than. Miniscule. Worthless.

Anything to keep her under his thumb.

“You matter to more than just Zach,” he assured her, trying to keep the pity out of his eyes. That was the last thing she needed right now. “We all figured out you’re the real brains behind this project in less than a week. Talley is a fucking buffoon.”

That made Eve chuckle, which he filed away as a win. He desperately wanted to get that haunted look out of her eyes.

Her humor faded as quickly as it arrived, and she stared down at the mug now resting on her lap. “I’m sorry I caused you so much trouble.”

Jonathan moved to the chair across from hers, perching on the edge of the seat. He leaned forward, his forearms resting on his thighs, so their eyes would be level. “You haven’t caused any trouble at all, Eve. The only thing I’m upset about is that you got hurt. That I didn’t get there fast enough to keep it from happening.” After a moment, he felt compelled to add, “I didn’t tell him you were the one who told me about the tiles.”

Her head jerked up in surprise, her brown irises seeming to shine almost gold in the light pouring through the windows. “You didn’t?”

“No,” he assured her. In fact, he’d spent half the night on the phone with two of his partners, Leo and Aiden, trying to figure out the best way to confront Talley without even hinting at his source. “I did everything I could to keep you from getting into any kind of trouble.” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Obviously, I failed.”

Eve lifted a tentative hand toward her injured cheek, her fingertips not quite touching the battered flesh. “Then how did you know to come rescue me?”

Jonathan sucked in a sharp breath at her words, though he tried to cover it up with a small cough. Something about the way she said that mesmerized him, but he couldn’t put his finger on what.

Pushing that puzzle to the back of his mind to work out later, he said, “I watched Talley through my office windows after he left. I wanted to see what he’d do. When I saw him go into the new building, and then everyone but you came rushing out looking worried, I knew something was wrong.”

A smile played at the edges of her beautiful, full lips. “Thank you. For everything you did today.” She met his gaze for only a moment before looking back down at her lap. “I know I must seem pitiful. Just standing there while he...” She let the sentence trail off with a sigh.

“Was this—” He paused, considering the best way to word this. He wanted to be as kind as possible. “Has he ever hit you before today?”

Her shoulders hunched forward, and he immediately regretted asking the question. What a stupid fucking thing to do.

She surprised him, answering in a voice so soft he leaned forward to better hear her. “He didn’t used to. Not like this, anyway. But the last couple years, he’s changed. A lot.”

“What do you mean, not like this ?” Jonathan’s brows drew together as he tried to work it out.

A blush colored her lovely, pale skin, rising up from her neck and spreading across her cheeks. Then she surprised him even more by smiling.

Beautiful.

“You know what you do?”

“What I do?” he repeated.

Her smile broadened, grew almost wicked. “What I saw you doing out by the pool.”

All the pieces finally clicked together for him. “Ah,” he said, his heartbeat kicking up a few speeds. “He used to be your Dom?”

She looked up at him through her lashes, and it took all his self-control not to grab her and haul her onto his lap. That look in her eyes drove him fucking wild. “Sort of,” she said after a few moments. “I don’t think it was exactly the same, though. He was always a lot harsher than you were. And the ending was completely different.”

Jonathan remembered his scene out by the pool a couple of months ago. The one Eve had seen. How he’d given his guest two mind-shattering orgasms after her punishment, wringing every last bit of pleasure out of her body as she screamed .

“Completely different?” he repeated, arching a brow. “As in, you didn’t come?”

Her eyes met his for a moment, and the raw lust he saw there stole all the air from the room. But then it was gone, and he couldn’t help thinking he’d imagined the whole thing. Wishful thinking on his part, perhaps.

“No, I didn’t.” She twirled her emerald ring around her finger, staring down at her hands again.

“Ever?” The idea horrified him.

The thick gold band twisted faster and faster. “I mean, I did sometimes,” she said, embarrassment filling the words. “When we were having regular sex. Just not, you know, after punishments.”

Red hot anger spiraled out from the center of Jonathan’s chest. And he thought he hated Talley before. “Eve, I need you to look at me for a minute, and really listen to what I have to say.”

Her gaze snapped to his, finally remaining there for more than a handful of seconds. “Is something wrong?” she asked, frowning.

“What you’re describing isn’t a real Dom/sub relationship.”

Eve blinked a few times, confusion in every inch of her expression. “I don’t understand. What else would it be?”

Fuck, he was doing this all wrong. Running a hand through his already messy hair, he tried to think of a better way to explain. “Did you have any choice in the punishments?” he asked.

Her frown deepened even further. “Why would I have a choice? They were punishments.”

“But did you have a safeword?” He needed her to understand this. “Could you stop him if you wanted to?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but then closed it again, staring off into space with a deep line between her brows.

“Talk to me,” he urged. “Tell me all of it.”

“I did have a safeword,” she said, voice quiet and hesitant again. “But I only ever used it once.”

Jonathan had a feeling he knew where this was going. “Why didn’t you use it after that?”

“He just...” She let the sentence trail off as she wiped a solitary tear from her uninjured cheek. “He got so angry when I said it. He wouldn’t talk to me or even look at me for a whole week afterward, like I was invisible. It was fucking awful.” Her voice shook by the end.

His heart was breaking for the woman. “So you let him do whatever he wanted to do to you after that, because the silent treatment was even worse,” he said as gently as he could.

Nodding, Eve wiped away several more tears.

“That isn’t a real Dom/sub relationship,” he told her again, hating the pain and confusion filling her eyes. “Talley was abusing and emotionally manipulating you, and there’s zero place for that in a healthy BDSM relationship.”

Eve closed her eyes and took a series of slow, deep breaths. At first, her lower lip and hands shook. But eventually they stilled, and she reopened her eyes. “I didn’t know,” she admitted. “He told me that’s how it works.”

A creeping suspicion wiggled its way into the back of his mind. “How old were you when you and Talley started dating?”

“Nineteen.” Sighing, she added, “Frank was forty-six.”

Disgust roiled in his stomach. It must have shown on his face, too, because she sounded defensive when next she spoke.

“I know what you’re thinking, and you’re probably right. I never should’ve gotten involved with someone so much older in the first place. But my dad had just died, and my whole life was falling apart, and Frank...” She sighed. “I don’t know. He made everything make sense again.”

How did this keep getting worse? “Taking advantage of a grieving young woman like that is?—”

“No, it wasn’t anything like that.” Crimson painted her cheeks as soon as the words left her mouth. “I mean, I’m not trying to defend him or anything. Fuck him. But he wasn’t just some random old asshole taking advantage of me.”

Jonathan had a hard time believing that, but he motioned for her to keep talking. The least he could do was listen.

“I’ve known Frank my whole life. He and my dad were business partners. That’s what DHFT stands for—Dennis Hutchinson and Frank Talley. Frank was all I had left after my dad died. He took care of me when no one else would. The falling for each other part...that just sort of happened on its own.”

Jonathan’s hands fisted of their own accord, and he ground his teeth together so hard he heard a rough, scraping sound. “How old are you, Eve?” he asked, doing everything in his power to keep the fury out of his voice.

She frowned, but promptly answered, “Thirty-five.”

That surprised him, though he did his best not to let it show in his expression. She didn’t look a day over thirty to him—not with that perfectly smooth, pale skin. “Any children?”

Sadness flitted through her eyes. “No. Frank said he’d be a senior citizen by the time they got to college, and he didn’t want that.”

“But you did?”

She nodded, slowly. “I always saw myself as a mom. But some things just aren’t meant to be.”

“Imagine you had a child. A daughter. And she was nineteen right now.”

That line appeared between her brows again. “Okay...” she said, drawing out the word.

“Now imagine you pass away unexpectedly,” Jonathan said, some real urgency in his voice. He felt a desperate need to help her see this the way he did. “Your daughter is beside herself with grief. And some man you work with, more than twice your daughter’s age, shows up to comfort and take care of her, and then starts dating her while she’s still grieving.”

Eve opened and closed her mouth a few times, no words managing to make it past her lips.

“This girl is a teenager. Legally an adult, sure, but in all the ways that really matter? Maturity? Experience? Hell, even brain development. She’s still a kid. And now she’s a grieving kid. Do you really think any decisions she made right then would be good ones? That any relationship she started in that state could ever be healthy?” He paused a few moments to let all that sink in. “Is that what you’d want for someone you loved?”

Burying her face in her hands, Eve started to sob.

Jonathan launched himself across the short distance separating them, pulling her up out of the chair and into his arms. “It’s all right,” he said softly, hands hovering just above the surface of her back. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel she didn’t have a choice to pull away—like she wasn’t in total control of her own body. “It’s not your fault. None of this was your fault.”

He whispered the words again and again as her tears soaked through his shirt. He’d keep saying them as long as it took for her to start believing them.