Near Perfection [Aspire 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Read Online Free Page A

for nor demanded material things from him, although accepted what he gave her. When he really thought about it, she had been perfection, and yet only this morning he had been questioning that perfection, wondering if he was becoming bored. And what did she mean that he wouldn’t know anything different? What the hell was going on? He meant to find out.
    He marched through the house, looking for his impertinent sub. He even poked his head inside her bedroom when she didn’t answer his knock. Her room was off-limits to him, but since she had broken the contract, he reasoned that he could at least look inside. She wasn’t there. The blouse and skirt she had worn to breakfast were on the bed, the lingerie tossed carelessly on top. He cautiously walked into the room, noting her little sandals on the carpet by the bed, probably right where she had stepped out of them. His caution in entering Haley’s bedroom caused him to marvel at being such a creature of habit, so bound by some code. A code he rewrote to suit him because it kept him comfortable. Warren wasn’t feeling so comfortable now.
    He didn’t know where Haley kept all her things, but the closet seemed full and orderly. He moved the clothes aside, fingering the fine fabrics. The scent Haley wore wafted up, and he inhaled it, heightening his arousal. Her suitcases, the ones he bought for their last trip to New York, were also in there, so she hadn’t packed to leave. Where the hell was she? Warren had some involved sexual plans for Haley to precipitate a discussion about what had just transpired between them and to begin to unveil any further unknown aspects of her character. It would likely take a considerable length of time. He dismissed the memory that he was going to New York and that he wasn’t certain they would even have a contract in a week’s time. He decided to ignore the fact that Haley had broken it.
    The attached bath was spotless, and while feminine items littered the top of the vanity, nothing looked out of place to him. He turned to leave and caught the end of a hairbrush with his shirtsleeve. It clattered to the floor, and he bent to pick it up. A sparkle in the toilet caught his eye as he straightened, and Warren stared, incredulous. Haley’s platinum chain, the closest thing to a collar that he had bestowed on any woman, was curled like a shimmering silver shaft of light in the water on the base of the bowl. Warren ran toward the front of the house, shouting for Madeline, his guts in turmoil, his chest full of something he didn’t immediately recognize. Fear and loss weren’t emotions Warren routinely felt. Not since his mother’s death.
    “Yes, Mr. Warren!” Madeline’s breathless voice announced her as she found him at the front door. “What is it?”
    “Where is Miss Haley?” Warren nearly bellowed. He tried to calm himself. This was totally unlike him.
    “Why, she just took a taxi, sir,” Madeline explained. “She asked me to call for one right after she had her breakfast.”
    Warren cursed, quite imaginatively, likely shocking Madeline, who was probably more used to the gentleman he had been, right up until the moment that little wench had talked to him the way she had. She wasn’t going to sit down for her meals for a week, and he was going to ream her… Madeline was talking again.
    “Is Miss Haley ill, sir?” she asked.
    “What would make you think she was ill?” Warren demanded.
    “Well, she was so pale, and she had on that unflattering, old gray coat she wouldn’t let me get rid of. You know the one, sir?”
    Warren did indeed. Haley had explained that the coat was her mother’s, one of the few things that she had left of her, and had resisted it being given away along with the rest of her unsuitable things. He had been relieved when she hadn’t shared more of what had clearly been a painful memory, sparing him that, unlike some of his other women who would have unloaded on him. Warren suddenly felt faint for the