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.“Are you sure this is what you want? Should I assume the message printed on your new cap”—he paused to adjust it on her head—“is meant for me?” He looped the leash around his wrist once.Then twice.Bringing her closer.“Why’d you run?”“I was scared,” she admitted.“Everything happened so fast.And then, you made me feel so many things.” She tilted her chin up at him, smiled.She leaned away, drawing the leash taut, testing him.“I’m not scared anymore.”“Is your collar worn for me, then?” Ro’s eyes narrowed, tracking her movement.He drew the leash another loop over his wrist, stopping her movement.“Can’t you read?” She felt playful, provoking him.Her blood raced through her veins, bringing a tingling awareness to her extremities.Her heart felt lodged in her throat, half in hope, half in excitement.“Say it,” he commanded.“Make me.”He looped the leash again with the fierce smile that made her weak in the knees.“You’ve earned yourself another punishment.I hope you’re happy.Now say it.” He trailed his fingers sensuously down her bare arm.She shuddered, desire and emotion colliding inside her.“I want this.I’m yours, collared and obedient.”She caught her breath at the reflection of her emotion in his eyes.She thrilled to his formal tone.“And I’m your dominant and master, though never less a servant to the heart’s demands.” He wrapped the final loop of leash around his wrist, drawing her against him for a kiss that exerted full rights of ownership.Then he scooped her into his arms.Her black cap fell from her head unnoticed.It perched, jaunty, on her abandoned stool, the lettering visible to anyone who cared to look: SLAVE TO LOVE.FORBIDDEN HEAT1Nora Sabine twisted the engagement ring around her finger, still unaccustomed to its feel.“I’m sorry I told you.”After a pointed pause, Ryan answered.“You said that yesterday, too.It’s not like you can take it back.I just wish, you know.That your secret fantasy was more normal.A threesome.Or the Mile High Club.Or performing a lap dance.” Ryan looked wistful.“But it is normal.Fantasies about forced sexual encounters are some of the most common—”“I just don’t get it.You’re a feminist, a modern woman who’s vice president of a company!”“I love you, sweetie.But you are a clod sometimes.And I’m not vice president yet.” He knew she still debated taking the lucrative position.She suspected he didn’t want her to.“I probably pissed them off quite a bit, taking a four-day weekend to think about it.”Silence.“They said they couldn’t get along without me.But I took the time off anyway.”More silence.She sighed.“Okay, you’re not a clod.I’d never agree to marry a clod.Truce?”“Sure.”At his tone, she glanced at him, but he focused entirely on his driving, peering at street signs and then skidding off the main road and onto a gravel one, sending small rocks flying.“Once a race car driver, always a race car driver.” She spoke gently, intending to bolster his ego.He was so sensitive lately.Her career success in the face of his latest race losses rankled him, she knew.“You’re very sweet, setting up this long weekend at a bed-and-breakfast.” She could just see the top of Oregon’s Mt.Hood through a break in the trees, its jagged peak snow-covered even in summer.As they turned into a long, winding private drive, Ryan smiled.“I never said it was a bed-and-breakfast.”“I’m pretty sure you did.Well, you wrote it,” she amended.“Something about a sumptuous B and B in the mountains, and it being a romantic four-day getaway I’ll never forget.” She remembered her delight that Ryan was trying so hard to make their relationship work.Black iron gates barred them from the gravel driveway of the enormous house looming ahead.Arching above the gates, ironwork letters spelled out TWISTED WOOD B AND B with sharp-edged top details.Nora stared.“How Gothic [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]