by Linzi Basset
Rhone sat down on one of the high chairs at the island counter where she was busy chopping up some vegetables. He popped a piece of carrot into his mouth and sat chewing while he watched her. The knife clattered on the chopping board.
“Very impressive. I never realized you can cook.”
“I’m a very good cook but with Enzo at your house, I never had the opportunity.”
“Hm, well, I think we should give him at least two days off a week so you can prepare our meals.”
The hesitation was brief in the tempo of the knife, before it rapped on the board even quicker.
“So, talk. What are you doing here?”
“You haven’t been back at the club,” he started tentatively. He knew he’d fucked up with her—badly, and it would take more than a few promises to make up for that.
“And that surprises you?” She threw the vegetables in a lightly oiled baking tray, seasoned it with rosemary and garlic and popped it into the oven to roast.
“Was the entire night that bad, luv?” Rhone prodded softly. He searched her face with an intent look.
Samantha shrugged. She was doing her best to keep her composure. Rhone Greer was not going to bulldoze her with his good looks, his gorgeous body and his fucking sexy smile. And why the hell has he grown his hair? How will she resist him now?
“Sex with you is always explosive, Rhone. You’ve had more than enough practice over the years. For me it was even more so that night because it’d been over two months since I had any . . . which can’t be said for you, if memory serves me correctly.”
Samantha was enraptured by the way his lips curved upward in a crooked smile. She loved the dimple in his cheek, the way his white teeth were perfectly aligned. She experienced a warm glow at his powerful smile. It reached a place inside her that the sun never could and warmed her very soul.
“I lied, luv.”
“You . . . what?” She held her breath, the crack that had formed in her heart on that night singed through her memory.
“I might have told a little white lie when I alluded to having had sex since you left me.”
“A little white lie! You . . . you . . . I—”
“I would’ve thought you knew me well enough by now to know better, Samantha. I was hurt that you’d even considered I would’ve had the desire to fuck anyone else.”
“You were hurt?” Samantha slapped the dishcloth on the counter. “Two months, Rhone! It’s been two months and not once in all that time did you even bother to phone me. What the hell was I supposed to think?”
“That maybe I was trying to work up the courage to come to you.”
Samantha gaped at him. He seemed like a schoolboy who had been caught smoking behind the gym. It was hard to believe that such a confident man had to build up courage, but the truth was there in his eyes. She was overwhelmed by the joy that filled her heart, as much as she was confused by him. She licked her lips.
“How is Max?” She changed the subject in an effort to sort through her wayward emotions. He was going to have to work a lot harder to win her back than this!
“He says he’s ready to come back to work but Ethan refuses to clear him. He’s hiding how he’s truly doing.” Rhone grabbed a piece of the warm bread Samantha had just sliced and bit into it. “Hm, very nice, luv.”
“By the time dinner is ready, you’d have eaten your fill,” she said with a smile as he buttered another piece and took a bite.
“Thanks for visiting Max in the hospital. It meant a lot to him. I know physically he’s pushing himself but emotionally, he’s suffering.”
“And Joanne?”
“He chased her away. He refuses to saddle her with the drudgery—his words—of taking care of him.”
“She wouldn’t walk away because of that,” Samantha exclaimed. After meeting Joanne at the club, she’d joined her, Paige and Lauren a couple of times for lunch and got to know her well.
“Joanne doesn’t know he’s paralyzed. He made everyone swear not to tell her. It’s probably for the best. Now, she might be able to find happiness elsewhere.”
“Just like that? Do you really believe it’s that easy, Rhone? For Joanne . . . or for me?”
“You’re the one who walked away, Samantha,” he reminded her dolefully.
“Because you pushed me to it.”
Rhone’s gaze didn’t waver, but he battled to voice the words he’d practiced on the way over. It all rushed out in one unpracticed, compressed sentence.
“I miss you.”
Samantha’s heart missed a beat and then started hammering wildly against her chest.
“Do you miss me, or do you miss having sex with me?”
Rhone stared at her, quietly considering the question.
“Sex, on its own, for me has always been about domination and was limited to the club. I can have sex with anyone, Samantha. There are more than enough out there begging for it. I’m not going to lie and tell you I don’t like sex or that it doesn’t matter. It does and it’s a big part of my attraction to you. And that’s where the difference comes in. With you . . . it’s always been about more than just sex. Dominating you is a journey of discovery every time we make love. Yes, luv . . . don’t look at me with shock . . . make love, even at times when it’s rough and wild. It scorches right into my soul, watching your reaction, your emotions and your complete submission. I’ve gone past the need to just possess your body, Samantha. I’m after your mind, your soul . . . and your heart. If it’s still mine for the taking,” he ended softly.
“Rhone—”
“One thing I do know is that my life suddenly lost direction the day you left. I know I’m not an easy man to live with, nor am I going to regurgitate the reason why I find it difficult to express my feelings or open my heart. You already know all of that.”
He reached across the counter and brushed his fingers over her cheek. “You make me want to change. I want to change. I need you back in my life, Samantha.”
Samantha was caught in the earnest expression in his eyes. It seared all the way into her soul to wrap her heart in a warm cocoon.
“Just like that? You want me to move back?”
“No.” He offered her a tentative smile. “I want to do this right. For you and for us.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I want to take you out to dinner, the movies, dancing, wherever you wish to go.”
Samantha’s mouth gaped open. “You want to date me?”
Rhone chuckled. “I haven’t heard that word since college. Which was also the last time I took anyone on a date.” His expression turned serious. “But yes, I want us to build on our future, together.”
“Our future?”
“If you have the patience and are prepared to give me another chance . . .” He took a deep breath. “I can’t promise that it’s going to be easy or that I won’t mess up, but I do know that you do something to me. You make me feel and it’s a treasure I don’t want to lose.”
Samantha allowed his words to flow into her heart where she closed it within a chamber to cherish and protect.
“So, does dating mean sex?”
“Miss Frazer, how forward you are,” he teased and laughed when her cheeks bloomed in a becoming rosy color. “No, luv, not outside the club.”
“I see. Just to get this straight. You're saying we’ll still be in a D/s relationship at the club and the only time we’ll have sex is there?”
“Yes, until the time is right to move to the next level in our relationship.”
Samantha was elated but did her best to hide her feeling of joy.
“Well, what do you say? Will you go on a date with me?”
The smile on her face brightened the entire universe. “Yes, I’d love to.”
“Perfect. So, Miss Frazer, would you like to have dinner with me tonight? Right here with the meal that you just cooked?”
Samantha peeled with laughter at his attempt to make an endearing face. “That’s cheating, but yes,
seeing as the meal is ready.”
Samantha dished up while Rhone poured some wine that she had set aside to breathe. He deliberately kept the conversation light throughout the meal. He set out to make her laugh and got lost in her tinkling mirth that settled deep into his heart.
“It’s late and you need your rest. I better go,” he said hours later and walked toward the front door. “Tomorrow night at seven?” He smiled broadly. “For our official first date this time.”
“I’ll be ready,” she lilted as he opened the door.
“Thanks for a lovely evening, luv.”
“No kiss to end our date?”
“Oh, heavens no,” he exclaimed dramatically. “My mother would have an aneurysm. She taught her boys, no kiss on the first date.” He smiled at the disappointed expression on her face. He couldn’t stop his hand from lifting to trace the pouty fullness of her bottom lip. “And dress up, luv, we’re going out in style.”
Samantha stared after him with a tender smile on her lips. She pushed the door closed but before it shut completely, it was pushed open.
“Then again, I never listened to my mom, why should I start now?” Rhone growled and pushed her back against the wall. “But I will do it right and follow the other rule,” he said with glowing eyes. “May I kiss you, Samantha?”
She gave him her answer by wrapping her arms around his neck and drawing him closer. Rhone immediately took ownership of the kiss with warm lips that enveloped hers. He ignited a fire inside her that shimmered on the verge of exploding. She moved urgently against him, flattening her soft curves against the unyielding steel of his body. Samantha inhaled with frantic gasps. It was all he needed to deepen the kiss, taking her higher on an emotional roller coaster ride that carried her all the way to the top. There, she hovered on the edge, ready to careen off in a rush of desire. She was dizzied by his passionate onslaught.
She’d forgotten how powerful Rhone’s kisses were. Desire built inside her so fast that it overwhelmed her with its intensity, forcing a husky moan of desire from deep within her throat.
Rhone exulted in her sweet submission to his demand. He forced deep breaths into his lungs as he entwined his tongue with hers. It was a moment to treasure. He sealed the passionate encounter with a brief, hard kiss before he reluctantly pulled back from her. His eyes darkened at the glistening enticement of her well-kissed lips.
“Sleep well, luv.”
And then he was gone.
Chapter Twenty-One
Four months later . . .
“There is such beauty in nature. Why can’t life be just as forthcoming?” Joanne’s voice sounded brittle to her own ears.
She sighed and sank down on a grassy knoll under a weeping willow, on the banks of the Jacksonville River. It snaked through the hills and surrounding trees in smooth, seductive curves; beautiful in the morning light. The water was green, darker in the shadows and pale in the light. The gentle tinkle of the water was like a musical backdrop.
For all the serenity surrounding her, Joanne’s mind was filled with darkness. The light had been stolen from her—again. This time with finality that had been beyond crippling.
“Hey hon, I’ve been looking for you,” Morgan said as she joined her. “I’m gonna miss this spot. It’s so soothing to just close your eyes and listen to the gentle rush of the water over the river stones.”
“Yes, it’s beautiful here.”
The authorities had moved the majority of the women to their new homes under new identities. There were only three more women who were going to settle in Europe within the following week. Except for Morgan and Joanne.
“So, have you decided yet where you’re going?” Morgan prodded gently, chewing on the juicy end of a grass sprout. “I mean, now that it’s been confirmed that the bastards, Sheikh Juhayman and Hamal are dead, you don’t need to hide anymore.”
Joanne didn’t volunteer the information that her case was a little more complicated. She’d been over the moon when Bruce had told them two weeks after the crash that the bodies of the two men had been found miles from the plane wreck. Finally, she could relax. It appeared that they had survived the crash and had tried to run away but had died from their injuries and blood loss in the process.
“Go home, I suppose,” she responded listlessly. “To L.A.”
Morgan glanced at her with a sharp look. “You can’t fool me, Jo. We both know where you want to go.”
“We also know that he doesn’t want me.”
“He was flat on his back and in pain. He wasn’t thinking clearly. But he has recovered fully now, hasn’t he?”
“According to Jack, yes. He’s back at work and I suppose happily fucking all the subs at the club.”
“I gotta go and visit Club Devil’s Cove,” Morgan lilted. “And you’re fine with that? Him, continuing to sow his wild oats, as they say?”
“It doesn’t matter what I feel, Morgan. He doesn’t want me and I’m tired of bumping my head against a wall.”
“So, instead, you’re gonna mope your life away?”
“I’m not moping.”
“Oh, for fuck sake, Joanne! Snap out of it. You managed an entire army for a year—in disguise, which I know wasn’t easy for you. It’s time to reach deep and get that backbone back, girl! You’re miserable without Max. You love him and even after the things he’d said to you, you still do. That should tell you something. Now, get back there and do something about it.”
“It’s easy for you to talk. You don’t understand—”
“Maybe I don’t but I got to know a woman with more strength and courage than most men I know. You fought for all of us. You defied a society that shuns femininity, to save a bunch of women you didn’t know or owed anything. You could’ve found a way to return to the US when you escaped but you didn’t. Because of you, we all have a chance at happiness. You deserve it too, Joanne. You are the bravest human being I know. Be brave now. Go and get your man.”
* * * * * * * *
Joanne walked into Precision Secure offices a week later. The long black coat flapped around her legs as she started the search for Max.
Voices from the ops room drew her attention and she headed in that direction. Max’s voice caused her steps to falter and she came to an abrupt halt just outside the door. Her entire being started to tremble as she listened to him talk.
“You’ve been there yourself, Richard. You know how it feels. What’s the use of going back, just to be told the same thing? I’ll never walk again. I’m paralyzed. End of story. No matter how much I hate this fucking wheelchair, I have to learn to live with it.”
“Max, your injury is different than mine. I looked at the X-rays Ethan took before you were released from the hospital. He and I agree that there’s a chance that the nerves have regenerated. The fractures have all healed by now and the swelling must be completed down. All you need to do is go for an MRI. Come on, mate! I’ve seen you move your feet.”
“Those are involuntary twitches.”
“No, Max, they’re not. I’ve seen you at the gym. There is strength in your legs when you exercise. You just don’t want to admit it to yourself. What exactly did the specialist tell you that day?”
“To be honest, I can’t exactly recall the conversation. I guess I shut down after I heard the word paralyzed.”
“You refused to go for rehabilitation at the time. That was foolish, Max. You might have learned what I already suspect. But you have to get your mindset out of the comfortable rut you’re in. You’re not a coward, Max, so you should at least try to get over that mental block that you’ve set. Make the appointment, Max. What do you have to lose?”
“Disappointment. I don’t think I . . .” Max’s voice faded away as he caught a movement in the open doorway. His face went pale. “Joanne . . . what are you doing here?”
“I came to find you. I was going to fight for a future with you, one last time. Now, I realize I was an even bigger fool than I’d thought.”
“Yeah,
as you can see, I’m not the man you used to know.” The bitterness in his voice slammed into her.
“Yes, I can see that.”
Joanne walked closer with a freezing glare in her eyes.
Crack!
The slap echoed through the room. “Holy shithouse!” Richard murmured as he stared at her in shock. He watched Max’s cheek flush red in the shape of her hand. The vein in his temple twitched but he didn’t move.
“I told myself that you chased me away because you were trying to protect me. Now, I realize it was because you didn’t trust me.”
“That’s bullshit, Joanne.”
“Is it? You didn’t trust me, Max. Period! I don’t think you ever did. You didn’t trust me all those years ago either to give you everything you needed. You sure as hell didn’t trust me to love you enough to tell me about this!” She pointed to his legs.
Max slammed his fists on the arms of the wheelchair. His frustration turned his face even redder.
“Look at me, Joanne! This is it. I can’t give you anything. Fuck all! Why the fuck did you have to come back here?” he cried hoarsely.
Joanne ripped open her coat. It fell away from her body. Max stared at her protruding belly. He gasped, desperately trying to breathe.
“You gave me this, Maximilian. But you’re right. I don’t want you around me and my son. Not a coward who is too scared to face reality.”
Max’s face turned to stone, his jaw clenched in rigid fury. “You’re wrong, Joanne. I faced reality the day I chased you away. I can’t walk, and I’ve accepted it.”
Joanne shook her head. “I overheard your discussion just now. There is a chance and that’s the reality you are too scared to face. Nothing in life is guaranteed, Maximilian. But to throw away your chances, in case you might be disappointed, is a coward’s way out. That’s life.” Her voice softened. “How you dealt with the challenges in the past made you the man who I came to love. That man is still there—deep inside you.”
She turned and started walking toward the door.
“Joanne—”
She glanced at him over her shoulder. “My love for you hasn’t changed, Maximilian but my son will have a father who isn’t scared to love or to share his heart. Unless you can do that . . .”