Brand (The Donovan Dynasty)

by Sierra Cartwright

  Apparently still not satisfied, Loopy lunged forward to lick all of Sofia’s face, from bottom to top, in a single swipe.

  “She likes you.”

  She wiped off the affection and accepted Cade’s help to stand. “Does she greet everyone that way?”

  “If she doesn’t like you, she nips your heels to herd you back into your vehicle.”

  “You’re making that up.”

  “No, ma’am.”

  Cade still held her hand. His gaze was riveted on her, and she realized he was judging her based on her reaction to his dog. He adored the animal, clearly. That he had such affection for an overgrown mutt endeared him to her. “I’m guessing the dog might be your mother’s but you offered to keep her.”

  “Might be some truth to that.”

  Loopy leaned her head toward him and he dutifully scratched behind one of her ears.

  “She likes attention,” she observed.

  “Loopy thinks everyone was put on the earth to love her, dog fan or not.”

  The land, the connection, the dog, it all mattered to him. Even though she’d been behind the ornate gates only a short amount of time, she felt as if she knew him just a little bit better.

  On Saturday night he’d warned her away, but the truth was, she wanted to know him on a deeper level, no matter how ridiculous that urge might prove to be. “Tell the truth,” she said. “Your mom wanted to take the dog, but you wanted to keep her.”

  “We have an understanding, Loopy and I.”

  “I can tell.” Slowly, she extricated herself from his grip.

  “Shall we?” he said, indicating a four-wheeled ATV parked a little farther down the driveway. It resembled a golf cart with a canopy, but with bigger tires that had plenty of traction. A metal brush guard was attached to the front. The tough-looking vehicle was painted white and each side was emblazoned with the Running Wind’s horse logo.

  “We’re not walking?”

  “You’ll be grateful,” he promised her.

  Thunder grumbled and big clouds, mostly white with patches of gray, moved across the sky.

  Before getting behind the wheel, Cade handed her into the passenger seat then gave her back her belongings. Loopy bounded up and lay in the small space behind the backseat.

  “Hang on,” he said, looking over his shoulder, more at the dog than at her.

  He took off so fast that Sofia slid backward. The dog barked excitedly.

  “You do that often?”

  “Yeah. Loopy loves it. It’s part of our routine.”

  “I think there’s a hidden side to you, Mr. Donovan.”

  “There is.”

  He said the words flatly, acknowledging that there was more to him than he let the rest of the world see.

  To distract herself, she readjusted her grip on her belongings.

  He braked to a stop and Loopy hopped up onto the backseat and sat with her head hanging out the side to catch the wind.

  “You two really could have a comedy act.”

  “She’s talking about you, girl.”

  Loopy gave a single woof.

  Weather stirred up the wind again, made worse by the speed they traveled. She brushed hair back from her face.

  “These are guest cottages.” He indicated the buildings she’d passed on the way in. “The first was originally a bunkhouse.” He pointed. “That one is where Maisie and Humphrey lived before the Manor was built. The other was always meant for visitors. According to what my father used to say, Maisie always had room for travelers, workers, anyone stranded by a storm. She had a heart as big as the land, and she even built a one-room schoolhouse on the property to educate the children of her workers. At that time, the Sykes Ranch was like a town within a town.”

  “Those are exactly the kind of stories that would make an excellent handout or commemorative book.”

  He slid her a glance. “You think?”

  “Yes. We could find someone to do the research. Newspaper articles, interviews with…” She paused. “I don’t know the whole history, but you have cousins and there was originally more land?”

  “You’ve made me curious about my own heritage,” he admitted. “When Phillip Sykes died—”

  “Your?”

  “Great-grandfather,” he supplied. “The land was divided between his children. I don’t know if it was equally or not. But my grandfather and Miss Libby inherited the portion with the house.”

  “Which you now own?”

  It took him a while to answer. “Yes.”

  Cade was quiet for so long that she wasn’t sure if he was going to say anything further. Eventually he continued, “After my father died, the Colonel moved forward with sorting out the land situation. Connor and Nathan control most of it, and it’s tied up in the corporation.”

  He stopped less than a minute later in front of a red-painted barn. It was an enormous wooden structure. Cade exited the ATV, and she gathered her phone, clipboard and tablet. She and Loopy waited near him while he slid one of the massive doors open.

  The interior immediately captured her imagination.

  The floor was concrete and a huge loft was perched at the far end of the open space. The metal roof was corrugated and she heard occasional raindrops spattering against it, adding to the ambience. Possibilities for its use crowded through her mind, each idea quickly chasing away the previous one. “This really has some potential, Cade,” she admitted.

  “I understand the Colonel and Miss Libby hosted some events here.”

  “You mean your grandparents?”

  “Yes. Years ago, before my father and I used to work on cars out here.”

  “What kind?”

  “Race cars, mostly. A couple of collectibles.” He adjusted his hat. “It was a long time ago.”

  “Where are they now?”

  “Gone.” His tone was gruff, letting her know he wasn’t inviting any further conversation.

  She nodded.

  “We’ve done yearly maintenance on the barn, to keep nature at bay. But it would need some improvement.”

  “Do you have the dimensions?”

  “I can get them for you.”

  She wandered around. “Mind if I take some pictures?” she asked, glancing back at him.

  He was resting a shoulder against a post, watching her, his eyes partially hidden by his straw hat. “Feel free,” he replied.

  After wandering around for bit, Loopy went back outside, so Sofia felt comfortable putting her clipboard on the floor while she used her tablet to shoot a few pictures. “You know, a few windows in here would be incredible.”

  “Are you remodeling the place already?”

  Sofia glanced over at him. “It’s not a bad idea. You could turn this into a rental, if you wanted, make it a place for church gatherings, weddings, meetings. It could produce income, rather than sitting here empty.”

  “I actually have a meeting set up with Nathan to discuss utilizing the ranch more.”

  “You ought to consider it. There are plenty of civic groups in Waltham, and there aren’t a lot of places like this in the county. I can tell you that not all brides want to go to Corpus Christi or San Antonio to host a big event. You know…” Her thoughts tumbled. “I’m sorry. I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m here to discuss your event.”

  “I’m interested. Go on.”

  “You could do a bed-and-breakfast option. Brides could stay overnight. Or the honeymoon couple. Corporate retreats.”

  “Do you see me as a host?”

  “I don’t know.” She pretended to consider him somewhat. “You have a certain charm, I suppose. Maybe we could get you lessons in deportment or something.”

  “Deportment?”

  “Yeah. Even I’m not sure what it is.”

  “Manners.”

  “You could be taught.”

  “Know any teachers?” He grinned.

  Cade himself would be part of the attraction. She could only imagine the success of the endeavor if his pict
ure was on the website or trifold brochure.

  She used her tablet to fan herself.

  Not for the first time, she realized that being here, alone with him, was dangerous to her libido.

  She forced herself to refocus and she considered the loft. A band could be featured up there, or a DJ. Or perhaps it could be used for additional seating or dancing. It could also be a great spot for people-watching or, even better, pictures. It would be a fun spot to set up a photo booth or as a place to video guests who were commemorating the event.

  Sofia headed toward the stairs but when he spoke, she stopped.

  “It’s mostly used for storage,” he told her.

  “That’s okay. I’m more interested in how it might be utilized during the centennial celebration.” Undaunted, she continued on.

  “I’m not sure how safe it is,” he warned her. “Let me get someone out here to check.”

  “How soon can that happen?”

  “Tomorrow, maybe.”

  “Not today?”

  “Are you always this—”

  “The word you’re looking for is direct,” she reminded him with a cheeky grin.

  “Direct,” he repeated.

  “Direct,” she affirmed. “Not blunt. Not bossy. Not demanding.”

  “Got it,” he said with a slow, stimulating smile.

  “Since I’m here today and I’m not sure when I can come back, I’d love the opportunity to have a look.”

  “Are you asking me to get my ass over there and check it out for you?”

  “Why, Mr. Donovan, thank you kindly for making the offer,” she said with an exaggerated Southern drawl. “I declare, I don’t know why I didn’t think of it.”

  “Why do I feel as if I’ve been nicely manipulated?”

  “I can’t begin to imagine.”

  “Has that worked for you your whole life? The Southern belle act?” He pushed away from the beam and walked toward her, his boots sounding a bit formidable on the floor.

  “You’ll have to tell me. I’ve never tried it before.”

  “I’m a bit embarrassed by how well it worked on me,” he admitted.

  He stopped next to her. Though he said nothing, she felt that indefinable something flare between them the same way it had Saturday night. She’d never experienced it with another man. It wasn’t just a pounding heart or a shortness of breath. It felt as if every one of her nerve endings were tingling with awareness.

  Sofia had never been madly in love, and sex had never been a pulse-pounding experience for her. It’d been okay, something she could definitely live without. So the arousal he evoked had caught her unprepared.

  He stood only inches away from her, looking at her with his gray eyes, which didn’t appear as chilly as they had at Lara and Connor’s reception. And he made no attempt to move past her.

  Slowly, he lifted his hand and brushed back a lock of hair from her eyes.

  “The wind,” he explained.

  “Thank you.”

  More raindrops pelted the roof, sounding like marbles against the metal, and it seemed to jar both of them.

  Without a word, he tested the stability of the handrail before heading up the stairs. “Come on up,” he said when he reached the top.

  Tablet in hand, she followed him. “They seem to be sturdy enough.”

  At the back of the loft, huge tarps were draped from the ceiling beams, blocking off the space. He stood near the front railing and she joined him.

  “What do you think?”

  “It’s not as serviceable as I’d hoped, so I’m glad I looked.” She wrinkled her nose. “The stage would be below us, so there’s no view of the speakers or entertainment for anyone sitting up here.”

  He nodded.

  “But that doesn’t mean it couldn’t be used for something. I’m just not sure what.” She drummed her fingers on the railing. “It does offer some great opportunities for lights and streamers, bunting, that kind of thing.” Tablet still in hand, she moved toward the back of the area to see if there was a window.

  “Just storage back there,” he told her. “Nothing to see. Ms. McBride—”

  She brushed back a tarp and what she saw stole her breath. She’d expected garage-type items, maybe boxes, tools, that sort of thing.

  Instead, she saw an immense wooden chair. The back had to be over five feet tall. Its padding was all leather. And the huge arms had wild-looking horses carved into the wood beneath them, ferocious and frightening.

  Paddles, whips as well as all sorts of things that she’d never seen before hung from the wall. But what made her freeze was a raised table, like a massage table, with sturdy restraints in strategic locations.

  Ice froze her blood. He was into BDSM.

  She’d thought she’d known what that meant, but she hadn’t. Seeing everything shocked her. Having her own images come to life in front of her rendered her immobile.

  His footsteps echoed, threatened, as he moved across the wooden planks to join her.

  “Don’t worry, Ms. McBride. This area is by invitation only.”

  The air around them was charged with the impending storm and it seemed to ricochet through her.

  By slow measures, she dropped the tarp and stared at him.

  His arms were folded across his chest and his feet were a little more than shoulder-width apart. He appeared resolute, bigger, broader than he had even a few minutes ago. He made her nervous, but no matter how ridiculous it seemed, she didn’t feel threatened. “You’re a…”

  He waited, making her say it.

  She turned to face him. “A Dominant?”

  “I am.” He continued to regard her. “Do you know what that means?”

  “I’d say the table gives me a hint,” she said wryly. When he didn’t smile, she went on. “Honestly? No. I don’t have a clue. I’ve read books, watched a couple of movies, talked to a few friends about their experiences.” Since Lara had asked her to keep their conversation private, she didn’t mention it to Cade. “But I’ve never been…” How the hell did she say it out loud? She settled for, “Involved in anything remotely resembling…” Again she floundered. “This.”

  “Despite what you may be thinking, it’s about more than sex and pain.”

  Given the surroundings, she found that a bit difficult to believe.

  “Doms are naturally protective and they take charge of situations. Being a Dom is an obligation and a responsibility that is taken seriously.”

  Those were the same words he’d used when referring to the ranch and the house. Absently she wondered if Cade saw everything in his life in that way.

  “Some people only practice their BDSM in the bedroom. One person is a top, the other is the bottom. Others live it as a lifestyle, twenty-four hours a day. Often it’s part of a committed relationship and the Dom or Master is in charge of all big decisions. He protects and provides for his sub or slave.”

  She shuddered. “That sounds a bit extreme to me.”

  “There’s a saying, show me a hundred BDSM couples and I’ll show you a hundred different ways to practice BDSM. Some people don’t have kinky sex, they simply live in a D/s way. What works for some people won’t work for others.”

  “So what kind of Dom are you?” She was as fascinated as she’d been when Lara had talked about it the other night.

  “Since I don’t own a collared slave, I’m not a Master.”

  The term made her squirm, but she wasn’t sure it was entirely from discomfort.

  “I enjoy sexually dominating female submissives so I occasionally go to clubs or kink events. I engage in what’s known as SSC—safe, sane and consensual scenes. You’re safe with me.” He was silent for a few moments before he added, “As safe as you want to be.”

  She exhaled to chase away the sudden picture of him choosing an implement from the wall and walking toward her.

  “Since you’ve already found my dungeon, you’re welcome to have a look around.”

  “That’ll teach me to be no
sy.”

  “Or you can go back downstairs. If you want to pretend you didn’t see anything, that’s fine. If you want to ask questions or talk about anything, that’s okay.” His lips twitched with a trace of a smile. “And if you want me to take you back to your car so you can get the hell off the property and pretend you never heard the name Donovan, I understand.”

  Though he’d given a little smile, there was no doubt how serious he was. “There was nothing wrong with the stairs, was there?”

  “No.”

  “This is the most unusual sales call I’ve ever been on.”

  “Is it?” he asked. He thumbed his hat back just a little so that she could look him in the eye.

  “Of course, I typically don’t dance with clients, either.”

  “Or kiss them?”

  “Or kiss them,” she conceded. “I’ve never met anyone like you. You intrigue me. This intrigues me. You’re a client. A potential client. And I don’t want to screw this up.”

  “Let’s agree that what happens up here has nothing to do with us potentially working together. We’ll keep business separate from this discussion.”

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  “I’m a man, a Dom, and you’re an attractive woman. It can’t surprise you to know I want you.”

  “Want me?” she asked. Her heart thumped so hard in her throat that she could barely force out her next question. “In what way?”

  “Don’t be coy, Sofia. You know exactly what I mean.”

  She did. “You’re saying you…” She took a breath. “You want to fuck me.”

  Chapter Four

  “That, certainly. Yes,” he confirmed, making her knees knock together. “And more.”

  The thought consumed her. Attraction raced through her. She shouldn’t have any interest in what he was offering. Someone like Cade Donovan was outside her realm of experience. He was worldly, sophisticated, with a sexual nature that unnerved her.

  She was aware of the wind howling, the rain lashing, yet it was only the two of them here, shut off from the rest of the world. “So you’d want…”

  “I would.”

  Absently she rubbed her upper arms. As she was coming to expect, he waited for her to continue. She glanced back toward the tarp. “Like I said, I’ve never done any of that stuff.”