The chime of the elevator sounded right before the steel doors opened. Elliott stepped out onto the office floor of Dmitri’s casino with his briefcase in hand. He approached the receptionist, who greeted him with a smile.
“Elliott Foster to see Dmitri,” he said.
“Yes, sir, he’s expecting you.” The dark-haired woman rose from her seat and came around her desk. “Would you like a coffee or some water?”
“No, thank you,” he replied.
She gave a slight nod, then Elliott followed her down a hallway and past another young brunette, who he assumed was Dmitri’s personal assistant. The receptionist stopped at one of the office doors and gestured for Elliott to enter. He immediately spotted Dmitri sitting at his desk, talking on the phone.
Elliott took in the richness of Dmitri’s office, with large windows overlooking the Vegas strip, and deep cherrywood furniture. He took a seat in one of the leather chairs across from Dmitri’s desk as Dmitri said into the phone, “Yes. Fine. Do it.” Then he hung up, and when his gaze met Elliott’s his features softened with his grin. “Thanks for making the trip over.”
“No problem.” Elliott sensed such an odd tension riding him, tightening muscles along his shoulders. “The documents are ready to sign for that new project?” The very project that had brought Elliott to Dmitri’s house, where he first met Mary.
Dmitri raised his brows. “In a good mood, I see.”
Elliott sighed, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. He hadn’t slept well since last weekend, almost dreading today, since Mary hadn’t called. All day he’d been hoping she’d surprise him, but she hadn’t. “The week has been rough.”
“Business?”
Elliott lowered his hand, looking at a man he respected. He was hesitant to talk about Mary with Dmitri. They were too connected and it seemed wrong to discuss the matter more than he had with him. He shook his head. “Personal.”
A frown marred Dmitri’s forehead. “Is this about Mary? Is she still being difficult?”
Elliott almost wished she was being difficult, as that would be easier to deal with. Then he could at least work through the problem. She was completely avoiding him. It made no sense. He knew she wanted him physically. Those lustful looks, even her body language, always leaning in toward him, declared as much. “Difficult would be an understatement.”
Dmitri regarded Elliott, then pressed both arms against his desk, leaning in. “May I ask, how personal have things become between you?”
“For a time, very personal.” Which told Dmitri they had played together without having to say the words.
A silent moment passed before Dmitri’s features softened. “You seem invested in her.”
“Dmitri.” Elliott rubbed his neck, doing all he could to rid himself of the tension he couldn’t control. “She’s turned my world upside down.” He couldn’t stop thinking about her, every second of every day, always looking at his cell phone to see if she’d called.
Desperation ran through him, and he was never a desperate man.
He wanted her.
The passion. The connection. The way she was freed under his touch. How could she ignore all that? He hardly knew her and it was all that consumed his mind.
An emotion crossed Dmitri’s face that Elliott thought resembled pity. “Listen, I’m sorry to hear that, but what she shared with Charles had was special.” He paused and said on a sigh, “Very special. They were more connected than any other D/s relationship I have ever seen.”
No jealously touched Elliott. “Yes, I understand that, but it’s been many years now. For the life of me, I don’t understand why any woman would refuse to allow herself to be happy.”
“I don’t think it’s that simple,” Dmitri said, holding Elliott’s stare. “When Charles died, I imagine Mary did what she always has, be strong for others. Though I think by doing that, she simply forgot to take care of herself, too.”
Elliott had assumed the same by his time with her. “Yes, agreed, but that needs to change.”
Dmitri gave a small nod. “I’m not sure she even remembers who she used to be. I haven’t seen that side of her in a very long time.” Obvious sadness thickened his voice. “Before Charles died, she was vibrant and full of life. So in charge of everyone and everything around her. Then when Charles got sick, all of that light inside her vanished. Her sole focus was on getting Charles better.”
Elliott had seen that light inside her, even if for only a few moments. “Go on.”
“Her life became about Charles’s treatments. She took a leave from her practice and there wasn’t a single conversation I had with her that wasn’t about cancer. If you tried to change the subject, it went right back to that.” Dmitri’s concern for Mary was palpable in his low voice. “I don’t think she has ever truly put her pain to rest. I think she has simply done her best to forget it.”
“That is not living,” Elliott stated.
Dmitri agreed with a nod. “I don’t think she knows how to live without Charles.”
“But you think she could learn how to?”
“I know she deserves to be happy.” Dmitri’s gaze firmed as he leaned back against his chair, sending it squeaking beneath him. “I also know that Charles would want that for her.”
Elliott glanced down to his black slacks, pondering what he’d heard. He finally raised his head and asked the most obvious question: “Have you ever told her that?”
“No,” Dmitri said, shaking his head. “After Charles passed, I suspect I reminded Mary a lot of him. It took her years to see me as much as she does now. And I’m only too glad she’ll visit and not look so sad while doing it. I have no interest in dredging up the past.”
Elliott wondered if that was part of the problem. Did Mary need someone who wasn’t afraid to talk about painful things, or who didn’t tiptoe around the issue? To live again, maybe she just needed to be shown how.
Dmitri added, “Right to the heart of it, as Doms we need to take care of the one who belongs to us, yes?”
Elliott raised a hand, not needing him to continue. “And as a submissive, she gave all of herself to Charles during that time he was sick.”
“Exactly,” Dmitri replied. “She gave everything she had, and I’m afraid that spark that I used to see in her never recovered.” He hesitated, drawing in a deep breath. “I think Mary has gotten so used to not thinking of herself, she forgets the way life used to be. How bright things were. I would imagine she doesn’t see the future…”
Elliott’s chest restricted. “She only sees what she lost.”
Chapter Ten
Minutes before eight o’clock at night, Mary took her seat in the dark red chair, listening to the chatter that always echoed in the historical theater built in the forties. The fan-shaped auditorium was decorated in gold and white, with five levels above the orchestra. Waiting for the musical to start, she sat back in her chair and looked at her cell phone.
Six hours had passed since she boarded the plane for New York City, settled into her hotel in the Theater District in Midtown Manhattan, and shopped for the long, black Nicole Miller evening dress she now wore. She smiled, seeing the e-mail from her younger son, Christian.
Below the text in the e-mail was a picture of him and his girlfriend smiling from ear to ear with the Egyptian pyramids in the background. Warmth filled her chest as she stared at her Christian. He had Charles’s eyes, a perfect light shade of brown.
Yet her throat tightened all the same; she missed her children, and Charles, too.
Alone. She was most definitely that.
Even now she began to realize how much she enjoyed going to the theater, but she hadn’t gone in years because she wanted to see a show; she went only for Cassie. After she sent off a reply to the e-mail, she noticed the date on the top of her phone. Hardness formed in her stomach, and she knew her week to contact Elliott was up. She’d given up the chance to start a D/s relationship. One she knew would give her all that she’d been missing in her life,
but Elliott made her feel things she didn’t want to.
He hadn’t been wrong—she recognized there was a fierce connection between them. Her body had been buzzing ever since being with him. He’d all but left his touch imprinted on her. But her heart kept screaming Charles at her.
With Elliott it wasn’t only casual play; it could lead to more. She might have long ago taken off her wedding ring, but the diamond necklace around her neck was a constant reminder of her vow to Charles.
Her collar.
Her promise.
Tucking her phone back into the clutch on her lap, she wondered about having Dmitri search out another group in Vegas who played. Maybe she could find a Dom that she wasn’t as attracted to. A man who didn’t make her feel as though she were on rocky emotional ground. A Dom who couldn’t break the barriers to her heart.
That butterfly feeling she’d experienced with Elliott she had felt with Charles when they had first met. That was dangerous, not because Elliott was a man, but because he was a Dom.
Her love wouldn’t be enough. Just dating him wouldn’t be enough.
He’d want her submission.
Elliott would demand her heart.
The lights dimmed and Mary glanced to the stage, pushing all thoughts of Elliott from her mind. As the gold curtain opened, Mary’s daughter’s angelic voice rang out in a beautiful rhythm. All her troubles vanished as her sole focus became her daughter singing and dancing on the stage.
One intermission later and by the time the curtain closed, Mary jumped to her feet, clapping wildly, tears filling her eyes. The main lights in the theater flickered back on and she wiped the makeup from her eyes. She reached for the backstage pass from her clutch and rushed through the crowd out of the auditorium as fast as possible.
Once she’d passed the security guard, she hurried into the industrial area behind the stage. She spotted the crew, who were celebrating the finale of the current show with champagne glasses in hand. Then she noticed the soft, dark head of hair and smiled. “Cassie,” she called.
Her daughter turned, waving her forward, and as Mary drew closer, she caught sight of the man Cassie was chatting with. Her heart skipped a beat as she took in the tall, gorgeous man in the pinstripe tailored suit.
Dark eyebrows rose in surprise.
Mary blinked, focusing away from the shock of seeing Elliott standing there and looking at her daughter. Cassie’s brown eyes, surrounded by thick makeup, twinkled and her dark hair was pulled back in a bun. Ignoring the unease creeping through her veins, Mary wrapped Cassie in her arms. “You were amazing tonight, sweetie.”
Cassie squeezed Mary tightly, and when she leaned away, her eyes narrowed. “You’ve been crying, haven’t you?”
“Of course, I have,” Mary replied with a dismissive wave, though now she was more focused on Elliott standing there in stunned silence. Suspicion raced through her, leading her thoughts into a hundred possibilities. She didn’t know whether to be outright furious or if she should call the police. “Do you come to the theater often?” she asked him, controlling the tension in her voice.
Cassie’s eyes widened as she looked from Elliott to Mary. “I didn’t know you were friends with Mr. Foster, Mom.”
Elliott clearly forced a smile. “Yes, we’ve met before. Are you two related?”
“Cassie is my daughter,” Mary retorted.
“Really? I hadn’t known.” He looked from Mary to Cassie and then his smile seemed a little more honest. “Ah, but I do see the resemblance in the eyes.” His gaze swept to Mary and a sizzle formed within their depths. “Beautiful eyes, in fact.”
Mary folded her arms, not giving in to compliments. His appearance at the theater, on the night of her deadline, raised all her alarms. “You didn’t know Cassie was my daughter?”
His mouth twitched. “Believe me, I’m somewhat dumbfounded that the young lady I’ve gotten to know is your child.”
Mary wondered if she should believe him. It seemed like a pretty big coincidence, but she also recalled Elliott telling her he had plans to travel at the end of their deadline. All the same, she couldn’t believe that fate had led them here tonight. The chances seemed impossible. She shook her head, clearing it and shedding the fear that Elliott was a psychopath.
Strange coincidences happened all the time. Perhaps this was simply one of them.
Anyone who loved the theater, and had the means to, would see shows in New York—it was simply the best place to watch them. Besides, Elliott had told her he enjoyed the theater; maybe he and Mary did have a lot in common.
“Did you know that Mr. Foster saved this theater?” Cassie gave Elliott a cute smile. “Tell the story of why.” She cupped her hands, raising them to her chest. “It’s so sweet.”
Elliott frowned. “You young ladies are always getting me to talk about things I don’t want to.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his well-tailored suit and turned to Mary. “When I heard the theater was on the verge of bankruptcy, I bought it in memory of my late mother, who came here as often as she could.” Warmth touched his voice and his features. “In her honor, I always attend opening and closing shows.”
Mary sensed the remaining tightness in her chest vanish away. Not a psychopath. She said to Cassie, “You’re right, that is a sweet story.”
Cassie nodded and sighed. “I know.”
Elliott’s gaze held Mary’s, a flare in their depths holding her captive. Though when someone called Elliott’s name, she blinked, hoping she hadn’t been staring for too long. He inclined his head at Cassie and then said to Mary, “Excuse me, ladies. Please enjoy the party tonight.” Then he left with his easy gait and his alluring Dominant way, but Mary noted tension in his tight posture.
Good. At least she wasn’t the only one totally rattled—and shocked—by this odd coincidence.
With a shake of her head, she pushed all thoughts of Elliott away and turned to Cassie. “My darling, you were just lovely tonight.”
Cassie shrugged. “My voice cracked a couple times.”
“Nonsense, you sounded wonderful.” She placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“You know I always am.” Cassie regarded Mary with suspicious eyes and then whispered, “How do you know Mr. Foster? He seems awfully friendly with you.”
“We have mutual friends in Vegas.”
Cassie nibbled her lip, examining her with a long look. “Did you go on a date with him?”
“Of course not,” Mary exclaimed, alarmed.
Cassie grinned, which always made her eyes sparkle just a little bit more. Her child lit up a room. “Maybe you should. He’s got the whole George Clooney thing going on, don’t you think?”
“Yes, he’s handsome, but I’m—”
“Not dead,” Cassie interjected. “I know you might be blind to this type of thing, but he was totally flirting with you.”
Mary swatted the air, feeling the room closing in on her. “We are not talking about this. I’m your mother.” But that was a silly thing to say because they were always this close. There was nothing Cassie didn’t share with Mary, and she loved that about their relationship. Though now she realized how their conversations weren’t about Mary’s present; she only shared stories about the past.
Because you have nothing to share about the present, echoed in her mind.
Mary clenched her jaw and pushed the conversation elsewhere. “Dad would have been so proud of you tonight.”
Cassie gave Mary a hard stare, then nudged her arm. “He would want you to be happy, too.” She leaned in and kissed Mary’s cheek. “Okay, let me go get changed and then we can celebrate with everyone.”
“Perfect,” Mary replied.
Cassie hurried off and Mary’s gaze went straight to Elliott’s back as he was shaking another man’s hand. Small world, she thought. Though she’d seen it before, how all of the stars aligned perfectly to bring two people together.
Fate has no limits. Mary had always be
lieved that.
The remaining tension coursing through Mary drifted away. As it seemed, Elliott knew many of the cast in the room, and it appeared he knew Cassie longer than he had known Mary. Although above all that, Mary’s mind spun that her daughter would be okay with her dating again. The conversation had never come up.
A lonely pang ached in Mary’s chest. In a crowd of people, it was unusual to sense a feeling of loneliness, yet that unease rocked into her. An awareness cut into her that had simply hidden itself away. Her children were living their dreams. Mary was living alone.
I don’t want to be alone.
There, standing right in front of her, was the one sure way she wouldn’t be.
As if he knew what carried through her mind, Elliott turned and their gazes met. Mary took an absentminded step forward before she forced her foot to the ground.
Go to him, her heart whispered.
Charles, her head argued.
—
Leaning a hip against the wall near the dressing rooms, Elliott sipped his champagne. His throat was dry from all the congratulations he’d offered to the cast and the production crew for the success of their latest Broadway show.
Nothing made him happier than to help the theater recover with his financial assistance. A renovation and hot new lineup of shows had taken it from near bankruptcy to success. His late mother had loved attending musicals, and this was his way of keeping her spirit alive.
He finished off his champagne and placed the glass on a nearby table, then he glanced at Mary. Her daughter was an expressive girl, and he had liked her when he’d met her, not even knowing of their connection. Now that he knew of it, he could see so much of Mary in Cassie, but it made him wonder about Cassie’s father, too.
A man who clearly had been honorable, considering that even after the many years since his death Mary remained hesitant to move on. Elliott had given her a deadline, and that had ended tonight. Though, to his total surprise, they had found their way back to each other without even trying.
Fate? he wondered.
Though he knew where he stood with Mary, he also believed sometimes things happened for a reason. He wondered if he’d seen Mary at the theater before; maybe they had even passed by each other or shared a friendly smile. He nearly laughed at his reality—all he wanted was to forget about Mary and move on, and life simply wouldn’t let him.
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