Elissa wrinkled her nose as she zoomed in on the Dom’s features. Her intent was to show that he didn’t need anything substantial to secure the woman’s compliance. Their relationship was based on love and trust, respect, as well as consent.
The image wasn’t quite what she wanted. Something was still missing.
Using the highly responsive mouse, she darkened the background to add a little more intensity. Then, still not satisfied, she changed the first layer entirely, making it dark gray so the submissive’s gown appeared more ethereal.
Better.
But still not exactly what she was striving for.
Something about the man’s facial features wasn’t quite right. Maybe he needed to be a little more intense. With a few deft strokes, his jawline became more angular. Then she selected a deeper shade of green for his eyes.
Each alteration brought him into sharper relief, pleasing her.
Continuing on, she gave his abs slightly more definition before adding a small scar to his torso. She didn’t want him to be perfect—she wanted him to be real, with flaws that made him human and gave him the capacity to care.
Then, satisfied, she enlarged the entire image to fill her screen.
In stunned fascination, she blinked.
The changes made her Dom resemble Jacob. What in the hell?
“Chardonnay?”
Screaming, heart pounding from sudden panic, she jumped.
“Didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Slowly, she spun her chair to face the door.
Jacob.
Late-afternoon sunshine silhouetting him, he stood in the entryway, holding an insulated tumbler that served as a wineglass. “I knocked. Dinner’s close to being ready, and I thought you might want to unwind a bit first.”
“I…” Somehow, she’d lost track of the hours. “That’s thoughtful.”
He stepped across the threshold and closed the door behind him.
Obviously he’d showered after his ride. The scent of summer wrapped around him, and his dark hair was still damp. He’d changed into a navy T-shirt and blue jeans. And it was everything she could do to pretend she wasn’t turned on by him.
“Mind if I have a look at what you’re working on?”
Horrified, she turned back to her computer to hide the image. But since the computer was slightly different from hers, the key she pushed didn’t make the screen go blank.
He moved in behind her and looked at the screen over her shoulder. “That’s…”
What? Had he noticed the Dom’s resemblance to him? Or maybe the connection was only clear to her. She held her breath as she waited for him to speak.
“Is this what Bonds was talking about? The art he thinks should be in a gallery?”
Embarrassment raked through her, and she gave up on the lie that they were for a client. “This one is a rough draft.” It shouldn’t matter what the hell he thought, yet his opinion was important to her.
“It’s stunning. And if you have others that are equally as good, I’m really impressed.”
His warm approval sent shivers dancing up her spine.
“I’d like to have a look at all of them.” His voice was soft with invitation.
She wasn’t sure that was a good idea. Showing him would expose her in a way she’d never been before, making her vulnerable.
He waited in respectful silence.
Then, with a soft sigh, decision made, she opened another folder and selected the slideshow setting.
Each of her images appeared onscreen for a few seconds before vanishing.
When the final one faded and she clicked the mouse to exit, he took a step back, and she swiveled to face him.
“Bonds is right. They’re spectacular.”
She’d given Jacob her trust, and he’d honored it.
“You should consider it.”
Her hand trembled as she accepted the chardonnay. “I have line drawings of course. But painting actual portraits? It’s time-consuming, and that’s something that’s in short supply right now. Maybe after my parents get back from Ireland.” And life returned to normal. Whatever that was. “And I’m not sure any gallery would actually display them.”
“Why not?”
She scowled at him. Was he dense? “In case you haven’t noticed, they’re more than a little risqué.”
“And tasteful. There’s nothing overtly sexual. In fact, they’re more intimate than anything.”
Her mouth fell open a little at his observation. That was exactly what she’d been hoping to convey, but that he’d gotten it made her heart soar.
“That makes them perfect for collectors and lifestyle connoisseurs. I’m sure there are online options for sales as well.”
“Honestly, I’d never considered it.”
“If Bonds believes there’s an opportunity, there is. Or he’ll create one.”
“I appreciate your feedback.” She took a long, fortifying sip to cover her nerves and embarrassment.
“Are they inspired by real-life events?”
She choked on her wine. Of course he was curious. But wanting to avoid this type of prying question was one of the reasons she’d never shared her art. “Let’s just say I have an active imagination.”
“Do you now?” He tipped his head to the side—seeing through her half answer?
He didn’t pursue his line of questions, which should have relieved her. Instead, disappointment churned through her. For the first time in over a year, she wanted to be pushed.
Jacob appealed to her on so many levels, and every feminine instinct hummed with awareness. She longed to be in his arms, once again crumbling beneath the demand of his kisses.
“Is everything okay?”
“Fine.” She shook her head to vanquish her absurd thoughts. “Yes. Of course. Why?”
“Do you have any experience?”
“Uhm…” He couldn’t possibly mean what she thought he did. Could he? “With?”
“BDSM.”
Her pulse skittered to a stop before racing on frantically. Maybe she wasn’t ready for this after all.
As if he had all the time and patience in the world, he widened his stance, then folded his arms across his chest and regarded her.
His actions were so perfectly Dominant that instinctive arousal crashed through her.
The silence dragged while she squirmed.
As she’d guessed, this man knew exactly who she was, what her needs were. If she wanted, she could change the subject or refuse to answer. Or she could take a chance and see where things went. With a nervous sigh, she told him the truth. “Yes. I have some experience.”
“And are you planning to ask me to give you what you want?”
Her tummy plunged into a terrifying freefall. “I’m…” Heaven save her from this man and the way he so perfectly read her. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“No? I think maybe you’re deflecting, Elissa. And when you’re ready, it’s safe to tell me the truth about who you are.”
Chapter Four
Jacob was taking a gamble. A big fucking one. But the military and life-and-death black ops situations had honed his instincts and taught him to respect his hunches.
And the beautiful woman with wide, unblinking eyes and with her mouth slightly parted in shock was a submissive. Even if instinct hadn’t told him that, her stunning art would have.
Elissa was capable and resourceful, no doubt. Strong enough to live her life on her own terms. While he was at her family’s pub, he’d studied her. She managed the place well, took care of the customers, and had been polite but direct when she told him it was time to leave. And then, outside, she’d been resolute in her determination not to go with him.
In addition to being attracted to her, he respected her. And there was no mistaking the fact that the male subject in the image she was working on resembled him.
The kiss last night had proven that she was interested in him. The question was, what were they going to do about it? He
wasn’t inclined to ignore it, but getting involved with a client was beyond stupid. He didn’t take unnecessary risks. Or hadn’t, until now. Elissa was no ordinary woman, and he’d never had a reaction to a woman like he did to her.
He continued to wait, wondering if she’d go on. If she didn’t, that was answer enough, and he would respect her boundary.
The next move was hers entirely.
“You’ve already seen more than most people.” Ambiguity hedged her response, and she knitted her fingers together around her glass, maybe to disguise her nervousness.
“I appreciate your belief in me.” There was no gift more valuable.
“But for me, I guess the question is, who are you, Jacob? Beyond someone Hawkeye trusts with my life? A man who lives far away from the world, in his own private fortress? Someone who gets what he wants?” She tilted her head back to look up at him.
On some level, the fact she remained where she was and he stood so near, towering over her, was the first step in the dance that might culminate in a D/s experience. “Are you asking if I understand what I’d need to do to satisfy your need to submit?”
Her breath whooshed out, and her face turned a charming shade of scarlet. There was no artifice about her. Because of the life he’d lived, he appreciated that as much as a cool summer breeze. Jacob couldn’t get enough of her.
“That’s not exactly what I meant. I wouldn’t have put it in those words.”
“So how would you have put it?”
“I wanted to know about you and your experience.”
It was a fair question. “On some level, I was always aware that I was a Dominant. When I was in college, I attended a club in New Orleans and mentored under the owner. Once I’d explored the dynamic, I understood why none of my attempts at dating had progressed into something more permanent. The most important thing about BDSM is the amount of honesty it requires.” He studied her expression as he raised an eyebrow.
Clutching her glass even tighter, Elissa nodded.
“Would you like me to be blunt?” He waited for her nod before going on. “I think I’m right about you.” He shrugged. “But that’s for you to admit when you’re ready. I’m interested in pursuing this conversation—and you—but only if you’re willing.”
“That’s…” She took a sip of her wine. For courage? “You’re definitely direct.”
“As honest as I can be. You deserve that. So whether you tell me I’m wrong and we pretend this—and your reaction to my kiss last night—never happened is totally up to you.”
“You’re not wrong, but I wasn’t expecting this. It feels a bit surreal.”
Her soft admission meant a lot to him, but they would proceed at her pace. “We can always address this again at another time.”
The wine sloshed gently against the sides of the glass, telling him her hands were shaking.
Hoping to take away some of her tension, he crossed the room and returned with a chair, then took a seat across from her. It brought them closer together, inviting trust rather than creating a disparity.
“So everything with you is safe, sane, and consensual?”
He studied her. “Of course.” While he knew plenty of people who embraced RACK—Risk Aware Consensual Kink—he hadn’t had a relationship that had ever developed that far. He understood the appeal. And perhaps with the right partner and enough time, he was open to the possibility. As it was, he continually communicated with his submissive to ensure her comfort and pleasure.
“Without emotional manipulation?”
What the fuck? He scowled. But when he spoke, he kept his voice low. “Is there something I need to know?”
“Look…” She stood and slid her tumbler on the desk before striding to the window. A few seconds later, she turned to face him. “Maybe I’m not ready for this. Can we have this conversation somewhere else? Maybe a bit later?”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
“Maybe after dinner?”
“I’m cooking.” He shrugged. “The one thing that’s my specialty.”
She gave him a small smile that told him she appreciated the reprieve. “I’ll be over in a while, after I shut down my computer and straighten my desk.”
“Take your time.”
Forcing himself to push away thoughts of a relationship with Elissa, he strolled back to the main house, automatically scanning the area to be sure everything was quiet. So far, there’d been no reports of unusual activity on the ranch. An hour ago, he’d checked in with Hawkeye. There’d been no further attacks that the firm knew of. No one was relaxing their vigilance, but it was possible the anthrax sent to Inamorata had been an isolated incident.
Even if it was, that person needed to be found.
As he seasoned steaks, images of Elissa, and her art, filtered through his brain. And he remained enthralled by the one she’d been working on. She’d done an excellent job of capturing the Dominant’s features. There was appreciation in his eyes, and he wondered if she’d seen something similar in his.
When she finally entered through the sliding glass door, he looked across at her. There was nothing more perfect. Like she belonged. A future with moments like this would work for him.
“Hey.” She slid her glass onto the counter.
“Steaks okay?”
“From your cattle?”
“And dry aged. Nothing but the best.” Earlier, while she was working, he’d tossed a salad and baked some potatoes. “There’s a bottle of red wine on the island. I took it out of the fridge earlier to reach room temperature. Will you grab it?”
Only their second meal together, and already they were working like a team.
“Merlot?”
“Do you like it?”
“One of my favorites. Not too heavy.” After she handed the bottle to him, he uncorked it and poured them each a glass.
Once again, they agreed to eat outside, and she set the table while he fired up the grill.
When he joined her, she took a small breath, and for a moment he thought she was going to say something. But with a tiny shake of her head, she settled for thanking him.
As they dined, he decided to follow her lead. If she chose not to mention their previous conversation, he would honor that. And when she asked about his upbringing on the ranch, he ended up revealing more about his family history than he’d ever told anyone. “I mentioned my mother already. She was an only child and hated living out here. Right after she graduated from high school, she moved to Los Angeles.”
“Bright lights. Big city.”
“She got pregnant in her early twenties and moved back home. I never knew my father.”
“That has to be tough.”
He shrugged. “My grandparents did the best they could. I didn’t make it easy for them. Something I’ll always regret.”
“And your mom. Where is she now? Still in California?”
“I’m not sure.” The answer was much more complicated than that. The truth was, he didn’t know. Hawkeye had gotten her out of the hellhole that was her life in Mexico. She hadn’t thanked him for the help and was furious when Jacob pulled strings to have her admitted to rehab. After a few days, she’d checked herself out and disappeared.
With Hawkeye’s vast resources, there was no doubt Jacob could locate her. But she’d made it clear she didn’t want to be found. “She has problems with addiction.”
“I didn’t mean to pry.”
He wanted to know her deepest secrets. Fair was fair. “I was two or three when she left for the second time. Said the stress of dealing with a kid was too much.”
“I’m sorry.” Elissa placed her fingers on the back of his hand. The touch was both gentle and reassuring. And he absently wondered how long it had been since he’d experienced either. Odd. Until this moment, he hadn’t missed it. And now the need for connection blasted through him like the roar of a freight train. “She abandoned you?”
“You could say that. Or that she did what she thought was best for me. O
r what she needed in order to save herself.”
“That’s generous of you.”
“Is it? Would it have been better for her to live a life she hated?”
“Did she ever come back?”
“Never. When I was little, she made an occasional attempt to stay in touch. She called a couple of times and sent birthday cards often enough that I’d be excited to get another the next year. I’d check the mailbox several times a day for weeks, looking. Hoping.” His grandmother would give him a slight smile, but there’d be pain in her eyes when she saw his disappointment. “I gave up when I turned nine.”
Elissa winced.
For a long time, neither spoke. Then, seeming to realize how intimate her touch was, she drew her hand away.
“My grandparents did the best they could. And they were both great people. Grandad insisted I go to college so I’d be ready to inherit the ranch. At eighteen, I saw that as a curse. And maybe I have a bit of my mom in me. I wanted to see the world. There had to be something beyond these fenced-in acres. They worked from sunup to dusk and rarely took vacations. I couldn’t imagine that for the rest of my life. So after I got my degree, I joined the military instead of coming home and repaying everything they’d done for me.”
“I get it. Family expectations are complicated.”
As he expected, she was compassionate rather than judgmental. Maybe she understood because of the way she ran her family’s business.
“They didn’t tell me Grandad was sick, or that they needed money because of the downturn in beef prices. They got behind on some of their loans and had to sell off parts of their holdings. Which is why I went to work for Hawkeye.” The pay was beyond anything he’d imagined. It wasn’t for the love of black ops. It was for the opportunity to redeem his selfish mistakes. “I wasn’t there when he died. And my grandmother had to manage everything herself.” Regret was his constant companion.
“You were young.”
“Every day I’m grateful for what I have.” In the military, he’d seen things that would haunt him forever. While working for Hawkeye, he’d done things that would haunt him forever. The world was big—that was true. But home was where he’d healed. He’d been there for his grandmother and continued the Walker legacy. “The connection with the land, the responsibility…” He glanced at Saddle Mountain, then back at Elissa with her beautiful, soulful eyes. “I’ve recognized it for what it is. A privilege, rather than a burden. But it’s not for everyone. It can be lonely, and the winters are long.”
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