“I think my mother used to say something similar.” She grinned. “Where does she live?”
“Waltham. She opened a leather shop. Saddles, furniture, that sort of thing. Mostly with leather from our ranches.”
He paused. “This one is my room.” The door was closed and he didn’t offer to open it.
“When I pulled up, I noticed a turret. Is it just for decoration?”
“No. It’s functional. It’s actually part of the master bedroom.”
“Yours?”
“As I’m the only master here, yes.”
“I thought you didn’t consider yourself a Master?”
“I said I hadn’t collared anyone,” he corrected. “There’s a difference.”
“So if you did, you’d want her to consider you her Master?”
“Yes.”
The word seemed to hang between them. Her mouth dried.
He rested his shoulder against the doorjamb and gave her a smile that tantalized, captivated and frightened her a little. “Why else would I offer my collar? Protection? A commitment? To me, it would be every bit as meaningful as a wedding ring.”
Nervous, she smoothed imaginary wrinkles from her pants. “I didn’t realize it was that significant.”
“To me, it is.” He curled his hand around the doorknob. “Would you like to see the turret?”
Part of her knew she should refuse, but she seemed to have become a different person since she’d arrived at the Running Wind and fallen under its master’s spell. “Yes. I would.”
Sofia expected his bedroom to be austere, so the sight of the bright-blue quilt was a pleasant surprise. Two chairs were grouped in front of a fireplace. And this room had the personal effects she hadn’t seen downstairs. Big belt buckles sat on top of the dresser. At least some, she imagined, were rodeo-riding awards.
Small, framed pictures adorned a shelf. In one, he was on a horse, smiling widely, revealing a missing tooth. “May I?”
He shrugged, and she took his non-answer as a yes. There were photos of Cade with a woman who appeared to be his mother. Horses featured in almost all of them. “Is this your father?” she asked, picking up a picture of Cade standing near a motorcycle.
“It is.”
He had photos of his half-siblings, but nothing that appeared more recent, as if he’d stopped living his life at some point.
“Bathroom is over there.”
She glanced over to see him pointing. Obviously he’d been watching her, and she had the sense he wanted to distract her from prying.
“My grandparents had a wall removed. So the suite is actually the size of two original bedrooms.”
And with it being at the far end of the house, his private area was like an oasis.
She looked in the large bathroom. While it was modern, it had been remodeled in keeping with the historic feel of the rest of the house. A chandelier hung from the ceiling.
“It was repurposed from one of the guest houses.”
“Smart and frugal.”
“The turret is this way.” He opened a door, and she breathed him in as she walked past.
Every moment, she was more and more attracted to him, more tempted to ask him questions about his loft.
Sofia led the way up the circular iron staircase to the turret.
When she reached the top, she was astounded. The area felt like a home within a home. There was a small sitting area, with a leather couch and a couple of chairs. A steamer trunk served as a coffee table, and a well-used guitar leaned against a wall.
“Do you play?”
“I pluck a few chords,” he said. “But I’m no musician.”
He had a small area for a coffee service.
“So I don’t have to go downstairs to have my first cup,” he explained.
She walked over to one of the oblong windows. Wind continued to pummel the shrubs and trees, and through the rain she could see that verdant land swept in every direction. She thought she could see the cuts made by the river and the roads, but the rivulets of water running down the panes of glass made it difficult to tell.
“Before cell phones, this was a great way to see if someone was drawing near.”
She continued to walk around the small space. From another window, the ornate front gate was visible, and she realized he’d probably watched her arrival.
“Because it has a three-hundred-sixty-degree view, I can watch both the sunrise and sunset from here.”
It lacked a desk, which meant he couldn’t work in here. “It’s peaceful. And…”
“And?” He had a shoulder braced against a windowsill.
“A little wild.” She waved her hand toward the window. Clouds seemed to tumble over each other. Others collided. In the distance, lighting snapped across the sky.
“Best vantage for a storm, for sure,” he agreed.
And to survey everything he owned. He really was lord over his domain.
“I’ve had a fantasy,” he said.
She turned.
“Of having my submissive in the window, naked when I came back in from the range. Or maybe displayed for a bit for anyone who happened by.”
It wasn’t likely that anyone would happen by, she realized, but it was the image that tantalized.
“I think about flogging my sub while she’s spread wide. Maybe secured to the wall on either side.”
“When you say that, I feel a little fear.”
“Fear can be an aphrodisiac.”
“Can it?”
“Can’t it?” he countered in return.
Perhaps it could be, she mused. If the sensation of fireworks rocking through her was anything to go by, he was right. It sure as hell had been in the loft.
“Ready to talk to me?” He folded his arms across his chest.
She didn’t know whether it was intentional or not, but he was blocking the doorway. Since she realized he would persist until he got what he wanted, she decided to tell him everything.
“Was fear part of your arousal?”
“It was,” she admitted. “What happened back there confused me. I liked it. More than I anticipated. It turned me on.” She blushed. “Obviously.”
He nodded and remained quiet.
She pulled her hair into a mock ponytail before letting it go again. “I told you I don’t have a lot of experience.”
“Go on.”
“Coming like that isn’t something I’ve done often. But you made it happen quickly.”
“Because most of a woman’s sexual arousal comes from her brain. Thinking about what we were doing excited you. Making you touch the paddle created a tactile reinforcement. Even when your eyes were closed, you knew I was looking at you, only you.”
Even his voice, smoke and sex, aroused her again.
“I engaged all of your senses. And I did it deliberately,” he said.
She dug deep to find the courage to answer him. Still the confounded man waited patiently, and she knew he wouldn’t push her. “I’ve read books,” she continued. “Erotic ones. And I’ve seen some movies. I’m intrigued by some of it. And parts of it scare the shit out of me.”
“Yet you never needed a safe word, never said yellow and you didn’t say no.”
All of that was true.
“Forget for a moment that we played. Imagine instead that you arrived and I took you to bed. Would you have been nervous?”
“Probably,” she admitted.
“Would it have stopped you?”
“No.” She exhaled. “But being in your dungeon isn’t exactly the same thing as having sex. I was a little freaked out.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” She scowled.
“Acknowledging your feelings is a good thing. There’s no shame in being nervous. And you can choose to scene any way. You can try different things and see what works for you.”
Like being naked in his window.
With patience she’d never seen from anyone else, he waited. Working through this seemed importan
t to him. Finally, she asked, “How did you know that you were into it?”
“For me there was never a question. I sought out BDSM clubs as soon as I was old enough to drive. When I walked through the door and witnessed my first scene, I knew I belonged.”
She rubbed her upper arms.
“There was a woman, sub, tied to a St. Andrew’s cross. She was being flogged, and she seemed lost. It wasn’t until later that I learned about subspace.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“The submissive mentally, emotionally flies, soars, goes someplace inside her head, mostly because of a release of endorphins.”
“Back to what you said about transcendence?”
“Exactly. I wanted to bring a woman that much pleasure. And I was impressed by the way the Dom was so in tune with his sub, checking on her, making certain she was all right. I realized then that D/s was about more than controlling someone else, it was about controlling myself, my impulses, behavior, actions. It took some time for me to totally understand it.”
“If I hadn’t met you, I’m not sure I would have known what to look for.” But she did know that she’d felt restless.
“Ready to go back downstairs?”
She nodded.
Rather than going first, he stepped aside and waited for her to pass.
The lights flickered a number of times as they picked up their empty mugs from the study and made their way back to the kitchen.
They found Loopy where they’d left her, under the table.
In the mudroom, he showed Sofia where batteries, flashlights, matches and candles were stored.
“I have a generator, but I use it mostly for the freezer, my laptop computer and as a way to keep my cell phone charged.”
“I hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“We’re prepared if it does.”
Thunder crashed. Loopy whimpered. Lightning ripped apart the sky. Being stranded with Cade Donovan was beginning to look like a possibility.
They moved into the kitchen and he asked, “Did you want to show me your concepts?”
“Yes. Is there a place you want to sit?”
“This is fine.”
She sat at the kitchen bar and he pulled another chair close to hers. Pretending this was an ordinary sales call, she turned on her tablet then touched the icon for her presentations.
“That’s the ranch logo,” he said, and there was a warmth in his voice she hadn’t heard before.
“I save each client’s presentation with their logo. It makes it easier to find. And this one, I particularly like looking at,” she said.
“Do you?”
“Your graphic designer is talented.”
“I drew the rough draft.”
“Did you really?” She looked over at him. “That’s impressive. I love the definition of the horse’s mane, and its face looks fierce, as if nothing will stand in its way.” All of the same characteristics Cade had.
Loopy scooted out from beneath the table and padded toward them. With a shudder, the dog plopped down behind both of the chairs.
Even as Sofia went through the slides she’d prepared, she noticed him watching her more than the screen.
Their scene in the barn, combined with the picture he painted of what he wanted to do in the turret, replayed in her mind, making it difficult to focus.
“The presentation?” he reminded her.
She shook her head before touching the screen. Automatically she moved from picture to picture of the various tent options. Some were self-supporting, others were framed and a few had poles. “As for specific ideas… If you wanted to do an informal afternoon event, you can have a presentation on a stage, either in the barn or in one of these tents. Then turn that area over for entertaining. Or, if you want something more upscale, there’s this option.” She advanced to pictures of a formal party inside a climate-control century tent.
“Good God. I had no idea they came in so many different sizes.”
“This one includes windows, and you can add real French doors.”
“Are you joking?”
“No. We can add sections based on the number of people in attendance.” She showed him various layouts, for plated meals, old-fashioned Texas barbecues, buffets.
“Bottom line, what do you recommend?”
“This idea was your grandfather’s, wasn’t it?”
He nodded.
“I think we need to ask him before we go much further. Of course, things will change if you can utilize the barn.” She shot him a sideways glance. “And you’ll need to wall off the dungeon or move the equipment.”
“But not immediately.”
Something hot unfurled in her veins.
“Plenty of time for it to get some use.”
Striving for professionalism, she cleared her throat then said, “Regardless, this will not be an inexpensive event.”
“With the Pain in the Ass Fee,” he added.
She pointed to the screen. “That number is likely to be the biggest line item and the one most subject to change.” Finally, she quoted some ballpark figures for the celebration.
“Fuck me to Sunday. Repeat that.”
Without flinching, she did. If he wanted to hire her, he’d have to pay for it.
“You realize how many bulls I could purchase for that price? Hell, I could buy another fucking ranch.”
“Do you know much advertising you’ll be buying?”
He frowned.
Undeterred by his reaction, she opened her checklist as a spreadsheet to show him each item and a price estimate, high to low, of each. Then she saved it as a PDF and emailed it to him. “You’re welcome to find your own people for each of those things. But be sure your quotes also include tax and gratuities.”
“There’s at least a hundred things on there.”
“More, if you count the signage, parking and shuttle buses,” she said with a cheery smile.
“Has anyone ever had a heart attack at this point in your presentation?”
“Calls to nine-one-one are extra. And I don’t give mouth-to-mouth.”
He raked a hand through his hair, dislodging a piece, making him look younger, more rakish, momentarily less frightening.
“Over the years, I’ve dealt with the shrewdest business people. I’ve never met anyone like you.”
“What’s worse is I don’t negotiate.”
“Take it or leave it?”
“Green or red, Mr. Donovan.”
“Your pretty little butt cheeks will pay for that comment,” he promised.
Suddenly the air between them pulsed. It had gone from all business to part sensual. The man was a master at changing her focus. And she was taken aback at how much she wanted just that.
“Let’s talk to the Colonel. When will you be in Houston again?”
“Thursday night.”
“I’ll set up an appointment for you on Friday if that will work.
“Morning to midafternoon is fine.” Her phone rang and she plucked it from her back pocket. From the ringtone, she knew it was her mother. “If you’ll excuse me? Mom doesn’t usually call if she knows I’m in a business meeting.”
“Go ahead,” he said.
She slid off the chair and crossed into the dining room, aware that Cade could hear every bit of the conversation.
“Where are you?” her mother demanded without saying hello.
“The Donovan ranch.”
Cynthia let out a heavy exhalation. “Gracias a Dios.”
“What’s up?”
“Flooding. And a ten-car accident on the highway.”
She paced the length of the room, captivated by the sight of the rain and the way the trees leaned and the bushes thrashed. “It’s no better here,” she said. “It would be insane for me to try to leave anytime soon. Everyone safe there?”
“Waiting for your sister to get back.”
One of the twins was fussing, making it difficult for Sofia to hear everything her mother was
saying. “Someone sounds unhappy.”
“It’s Bella. She’s tired and won’t go to sleep.”
“Tell baby Bella that her Auntie Sofia loves her.”
The crying stopped.
“She heard you. Her eyes are wide.”
Another streak of lightning burst down. It was followed by an ear-splitting sound, like an explosion. Loopy whimpered. Sofia jumped, and the phone momentarily buzzed with static. “I’m going to have to go, Mom.”
“Promise me you’ll stay put.”
She remained patient. It didn’t seem to matter to her mother that Sofia was an adult. She worried ceaselessly. “I will. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”
After ending the call with her mother, she returned to the kitchen and he was nowhere in sight. She heard noises in the mudroom, so she walked over there. “What happened?
“Sounded like the lighting hit something,” he replied as he fastened up his slicker. “Stay here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
The sight of a man in a bright-yellow slicker and plastic-wrapped hat should not have been sexy, but it was.
The lights flickered three times, then went off and stayed off.
“I think that settles the matter of whether or not you’re staying.”
Chapter Six
“Could be worse,” Cade said nearly half an hour later, as he forced the door shut behind him.
Sofia and Loopy met him in the mudroom, and the kitchen was filled with the rich scent of something cooking.
He’d told himself he liked living alone on the ranch, just him, the dog and the wide-open spaces, but now he wasn’t so sure. A long-denied part of him appreciated the difference between a house and a home.
She grabbed a couple of towels from the top of the dryer and put them on the floor.
“Thanks.” He stomped water off his boots then tossed his hat on one towel and dropped his slicker on the other.
At her request, he’d removed her small duffel bag from the SUV, and he put it on the bench. “Kept it as dry as I could.”
“Thank you.”
“We have most of a live oak tree down, and it looks as if it may have done some damage to the roof of one of the guest houses. From the inside, I didn’t see anything leaking. Power poles look okay. My foreman is checking on the cattle and horses. As soon as the weather clears, we’ll be able to better assess the situation.” After wiping off his boots and hanging his wet coat and hat from pegs, he said, “Something smells good.”
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