Fifteen

Wednesday afternoon, when Lily went to reception to ask Jennifer to book an ultrasound for the patient she’d just examined, the receptionist said, “Dr. Nyland, your sister-in-law’s on the phone, holding for you. Line three.”

“Thanks.” Heart racing, Lily hurried past a handful of waiting patients, including a couple of toddlers playing around the artificial, child-friendly Christmas tree. It wasn’t like Regina to call at work. What was wrong? She shoved the Zen garden out of the way—why did someone keep moving it to the center of her desk?—and grabbed up the phone. “Regina? Is something wrong with Sophia?”

“No, no, she’s fine. I’m sorry to bother you, and I hate to ask this.” Her normally poised voice sounded frazzled. “Our babysitter’s come down with the flu and—”

“You want me to babysit tonight?” Lily made quick calculations. She had eight patients to see before the end of the day.

“I wouldn’t ask, not with Dax home for Christmas, but my parents just left for the Caribbean and yours have plans. It’s a holiday party being thrown by one of my biggest clients, so I can’t bail. Anthony could stay home, but—”

“Regina, it’s fine. You know I adore Sophia. What time do you need me?”

“Would six thirty work?”

“That’s fine. I’ll be there.”

“I really appreciate this. Lily, bring Dax if you want. Sophia likes him.”

“Uh . . .” Would Dax want to babysit an infant? Did she want to try on the roles of mom and dad when their future as husband and wife was still unresolved? “We’ll see. How late are you likely to be?”

“Well, it’s a dinner dance, so . . .”

“Could be late. No problem. See you at six thirty.”

Now running late for her next patient, she called Dax’s smartphone, planning to leave voice mail. But he answered.

“You’re not flying this afternoon?”

“Came in from one flight and we’re fueling up for another. You got my message?”

“No, I haven’t checked my phone since noon.”

“This guy I flew with in the army is in town for a couple of days and wants to get together for a drink. I didn’t know if you had plans for tonight.” The previous night had been quiet. Rather than stay at the clinic, she’d brought her work home, doing online research on treatment options for one of her patients while Dax read.

“Regina just called. Their babysitter cancelled and they’re desperate, so I said I’d help out.”

“Oh, sure. So you won’t mind if I go out with Hank?”

“No, of course not.” She pressed her lips together. Should she invite him to come babysit? No. How often did he get a chance to catch up with an army buddy? “Have fun.”

* * *

Wow, look at you,” Lily said to Regina, who’d answered the door. Her sister-in-law was svelte in a gorgeous black evening dress and four-inch heeled sandals, her strawberry blond hair pulled back from her face with sparkly clips that matched her earrings and necklace. “You look fabulous.”

Regina glanced down at herself. “I know, right? I barely recognize myself now that I’ve lost the pregnancy weight.” She leaned forward to touch Lily’s shoulder and air-kiss her cheek with shiny red lips. “Thank you so much for doing this.”

“I’m always happy to spend time with my niece.” Even if it made her biological clock tick faster. “Speaking of whom, where is she?”

Regina called, “Anthony? Lily’s here.” Then she muttered, “Where’s my evening purse? I put it down somewhere. I swear, having a baby changes everything. Life was so organized before she came along, and now I’m a disaster.”

“You’re not a disaster,” Lily’s brother said, coming down the stairs. He wore a beautifully tailored black suit, a dove gray shirt, and a black-and-silver striped tie. Five-month-old Sophia rode on one arm like the princess she was. “You’re perfect, Regina. Not to mention gorgeous.” He came over to Lily. “Hi sis. Thanks for helping us out on such short notice.”

“Not a problem.” Lily pecked him on the cheek then peered more closely at his tie. “Hate to tell you, but you have”—she wrinkled her nose—“something undesirable on your tie.”

“Oh, man.” He squinted down at it then shook his head at the baby. “What have you done to me now, my girl? Regina, you take her. I’ll go change my tie.” He made to hand off the baby to his wife.

Lily intercepted the move and scooped Sophia into her arms. “Best not let you near that beautiful dress. And speaking of beautiful . . .” She buried her face in silky blond curls and inhaled the sweet scent of baby shampoo, milk, and Sophia.

Regina slipped into a black evening wrap and eyed them enviously. “I’d rather stay home with her than go to this party.”

“Are you sorry you didn’t take a longer maternity leave?”

“Yes and no. I love my job and I’m close to making partner. But when I’m with her, I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

“She does have that effect.”

Anthony hurried downstairs again and he and Regina bestowed final kisses on their daughter and headed off.

When the door closed, Lily hugged the baby. “Just us now. How shall we spend our evening, precious?” Sophia was an easy child, happy to eat, play, crawl around exploring.

They did all of that until her niece tired, then Lily tucked her in, noticing that the butterfly mobile she’d given Sophia for Christmas hung above her crib. After checking the baby monitor, Lily went downstairs and settled on the couch. Opening her tote, she deliberated between computer and Kindle. She should work, but instead she decided to take this alone time to read.

Would she relate any better to BDSM now, after playing the cop dom? It had started as a challenge she’d set herself and had morphed into awkwardness, but then she’d felt an exhilarating and, yes, titillating sense of power. And a thrill that strong, utterly masculine Dax, had played along.

She picked up Bound by Desire where she’d left off, with Cassandra in a collar and leash, getting turned on by being paddled and spanked. Neville played her with his fingers, telling her not to climax. Finally he ordered her to, and her orgasm was instantaneous and powerful. Then, with her still on her hands and knees, leashed to a chair, he fucked her from behind. Again she came, several times, with the intensity she’d longed for.

Cassandra felt like melted wax, soft and warm and boneless. Oh yes, she’d been right about Neville. He’d given her the best sex of her life, better than she’d ever imagined.

When he pulled out and rose, she shuffled forward to ease the tension created by the leash and collar and slumped to the rug. Curled on her side, she was totally blissed out.

“Pet?” His voice was harsh. “I didn’t tell you to move.”

Sexy as the man was, her body couldn’t handle any more orgasms right now. Besides, she had an early meeting and needed to catch two or three hours’ sleep. Pretending meekness, she said, “I’m sorry, master. My arms and legs gave out.”

“Ah. I see.” His tone was more neutral than affectionate, but then their relationship was about sex, not caring. “Would it be correct to assume you’d like me to remove your collar?”

Glad that he got the picture, she said, “Yes, please, Master.” Did he still expect her to use that term, or were the rules no longer in effect now that the sex was over?

He stood above her, naked. It was the first time she’d seen him, as he’d been behind her when they fucked and she hadn’t been able to turn her head. God, he was powerful, and so beautifully muscled. He bent down and, with a quick move, undid the clasp on the collar.

It dropped free and her neck felt bare, exposed. Vulnerable. What a strange thought. She flicked it away and summoned the energy to stand. “That was amazing. I need to go to my room and catch a little sleep. I have an early meeting, and it’ll last all day. But I’ll be at the hotel tomorrow night. How about you?”

He turned his back and started to dress. “I think not.”

“You don’t think you’ll be here?”

He didn’t answer.

“Neville?”

After a long minute, he faced her. He was fully dressed, his expression impersonal. “We won’t see each other again.”

“But . . .” Her eyes widened. “Are you saying you didn’t like the sex?” No man had ever complained about her performance as a lover.

“For a while. But in the end, you didn’t please me, Cassandra.”

“What?” She fisted her hands at her hips and glared at him. “I did everything you told me to. I even wore a fucking dog collar, Neville! And you climaxed. What the hell do you mean, I didn’t please you?”

His expression softened with what looked like regret. “I hoped you would learn, but you still deny your true nature.”

“I called you master. I let you paddle me. I played your game.” She’d given him more—far more—than she’d ever given another man.

He shook his head. “But it’s not a game. It’s our true nature. Our sexual being. I’m a dominant and you’re a submissive. When you deny that, you cheat both of us.”

She hugged her arms across her breasts. “All right, so a little pain adds an edge that turns me on and makes the orgasms stronger. I admit that.” It was kind of freaky, but she could live with it.

He gathered his paraphernalia: leash, collar, paddle. “There’s so much more to being a submissive. That’s why I made you wear the collar and leash. To see how you reacted.”

“I don’t understand.”

“If you were truly my pet, I would own you. These”—he held up the collar and leash—“symbolize that.”

“Own me?” She huffed. “What century do you live in? People don’t own people these days. And if they try to, they’ll be thrown in jail.”

“Not if the pet chooses it.” He tucked everything back into his bag and zipped it.

“At first when you called me ‘pet,’ I thought it was an endearment. Now that I know how you mean it, it’s offensive.”

“It shouldn’t be.” He came toward her and stood a couple of feet away, not touching her. “It expresses the relationship. An owner cares for his pet in all ways. It is a dom’s duty and pleasure to look after his sub’s well-being and pleasure. It is her duty and pleasure to trust him utterly, to serve his pleasure, and to trust that he will care for her and provide what she needs.”

“Like a good paddling?” she taunted. “I’m sure every good doggy loves that.”

His jade eyes stared intently into hers. “You did.”

“As a sex game! That’s all.” Ooh! She wasn’t some sex slave out of the dark ages. Infuriated, she whirled and stalked to the bathroom to dress. No, she’d certainly never be seeing that male chauvinist pig again!

That was where the chapter ended. Lily closed her Kindle and went upstairs to check on Sophia. The baby was sleeping peacefully, looking so sweet and innocent, such a contrast to Bound by Desire. Lily leaned over the crib to press a kiss to her niece’s forehead, then headed down to the kitchen, where she made a cup of Earl Grey tea and took a couple of raisin oatmeal cookies from a package on the counter. Snack in hand, she returned to the living room and turned to the next chapter.

Six months later . . .

More nervous than she’d ever been, Cassandra listened as the phone rang. Once . . . Was Neville in his room? She’d located him via the Internet and phoned his assistant on a business pretext, finding out where he was. And she’d come. Now she sat, bundled in a hotel robe after a long shower and grooming session, in the chair by the desk in her room.

Two . . . Her crossed leg bounced uncontrollably. He had to be there. He had to be alone. He had to want to see her. In six months, no man had compared to Neville. No sex had satisfied her. When she’d climaxed, it was a hiccup, not an explosion.

Three . . . Damn it, she needed him. She, who’d never needed a man in her life, who’d never imagined being subordinate to one, had come crawling back. Well, no, that wasn’t exactly correct. She—

“Neville Winter.”

That deep, rich voice sent ripples of desire throughout her, combining with the flutters of anxiety. Trying to steady her voice, she said, “Neville, this is Cassandra Knightley.” Would he even remember her?

“Cassandra. Hello, pet. It’s been six months. You’re more stubborn than I thought you’d be.”

He’d expected her to come back? Not knowing what to think of that, she said, “We only spent a couple of hours together, but I can’t forget them.”

“You want more. You need more.”

Oh yes! More of that push-the-bounds sex, for sure. What she hadn’t yet figured out was exactly what she was willing to do—what he’d try to make her do—in order to get it. “I’m staying at the same hotel. Let’s—” She was about to say, “Let’s get together,” then realized he would want it phrased differently. “May I come see you, master?”

“You may, pet. First, take off everything but your panties and shoes. High-heeled shoes, of course. Then put on your coat and come to my room.”

Parade through this elegant hotel all but naked under her coat? This was a test. One that made her wet. “Yes, master.”

He gave her his room number and hung up.

She pulled on her sexiest black lace thong and highest-heeled black sandals, and checked her hair and makeup. Because it was summer, the only coat she’d brought on this trip was a lightweight trench coat that barely came to mid thigh. She buttoned and belted it.

Stepping through the hallway and riding the elevator, she was utterly aware of her near-nakedness. The light abrasion of the coat’s poplin pricked her nipples to attention. Air brushed her butt cheeks. With every stride, the coat split at the bottom, baring her naked legs almost to the top of her thighs. By the time she reached Neville’s door, her whole body was sexually sensitized.

She tapped her knuckles against the door, catching her breath in anticipation.

The door opened and there he stood, in slim-fitting black pants and a crisp white dress shirt. But he was more than a handsome man in expensive clothes; Neville had an air of confidence, of command, that called out to something deeply female inside her. Oh yes, he was exactly as she remembered.

“Pet.” He flashed one of the charming smiles he’d bestowed on her when they first met.

“Hello, master.”

“Take off your coat.”

When she made to walk through the door, he put up an arm to bar it. “Do you remember the rules? You obey.”

She frowned, not understanding. “I was going to come in and take off my coat.”

“I did not tell you to come in.”

“You want me to . . .” Shocked, titillated, she glanced around. The hallway was empty, but someone might emerge from a room or elevator. “I’m sorry, master. I misunderstood.” Fingers trembling with excitement, she undid the belt and buttons, took another quick glance, then stripped off her coat.

With his free hand, he took it, but he kept the door barred so she couldn’t enter.

Now her entire body trembled—with arousal and with fear of discovery. How long would he keep her standing here?

He scanned her from head to toe. “Very good.” He moved back from the door. “Come in, Cassandra, and tell me what brings you here.”

She hurried into the sitting room of his suite. He’d called her Cassandra. Did that mean she could now call him Neville? Or was this another test? He hadn’t told her to sit, so she didn’t. She stood in front of him, still a few inches shorter despite her five-inch heels. “I will be honest with you, master. The things we did together, the pleasure I felt with you . . . it’s made me wonder.” She forced the words, taboo words she hardly dared think, out of her mouth. “You may be right about my sexual nature.”

She gazed up at him, letting him see her confusion and her need. “Master, I need to find out. I know that’s not what you want. You want someone who knows she’s submissive. But I won’t lie to you, I won’t pretend. I’m asking you to be my teacher, to help me discover who I truly am.” And then she bowed her head, awaiting his verdict.

He kept her waiting. She didn’t move, didn’t speak again.

Then he said, “Go into the bedroom, pet. In my black bag, you will find padded cuffs for your ankles and wrists, and a blindfold. Put them on the bed and wait for me.”

She’d expected the leash and collar. In fact, her neck felt naked without the collar. If he cuffed her wrists and ankles, she’d be completely in his power, unable to free herself unless she spoke her safe word. Her pussy clenched and the juices of arousal moistened her labia and inner thighs. “Master, may I speak?”

“You will not question me. You must trust me.”

“I do.” To give her pain, screaming orgasms, and enlightenment. “I only wanted to say that my safe word is—”

“Orchid.”

“You remember?”

“Did I not tell you of a dominant’s responsibility to look after his submissive’s well-being? Be assured that if you say ‘orchid,’ I will cease whatever I’m doing.”

Cease? No pain, no pleasure? She’d lose Neville’s attention, his single-minded focus on her. And she knew, without him having to say it, that he would be displeased.

The idea of Neville ceasing was far less bearable than the idea of being handcuffed and blindfolded, entirely at his mercy.

An ultimatum. Lily rested her head against the back of the couch and reflected on that. Her first reaction was, How obnoxious. And yet, in every relationship, each partner had the ultimate power to walk away. Wasn’t that the dilemma she and Dax were dealing with: deciding what each of them needed out of their marriage in order to stay? For her, it was love, trust, more time together, and children. A family.

She glanced around the beautifully decorated living room, where a stack of medical journals, Canadian Lawyer magazine, a child-rearing book, and a couple of stuffed animals attested to the family that lived here.

This. This was what she wanted. Could she have it? She saw many parallels between herself and Regina, but Dax was a very different man from Anthony. It was his difference, in part, that had first attracted her—and, to be honest, still did. His edge, his raw masculinity, his tough-guy independence. But as part of that package, came his need for freedom, his craving for the wilderness.

Would those qualities make it impossible to have a future together?

* * *

Two things, real quick,” Jennifer, the receptionist, said as she caught Lily leaving one examining room and heading to the next. It was Friday morning, December thirtieth. “Hope it’s okay, but I told Melinda Yee she could bring Jimmy in. He’s got an infection and high fever.”

“That makes four emergency squeeze-ins. But of course she can bring Jimmy.” So much for the notion of closing at noon and doing some paperwork. Patients came first. “Second thing?”

“Your husband called and wants you to call him back. He figured you wouldn’t be checking your smartphone.”

Lily glanced at her watch. “Would you tell Eustace Grant that I’m running a little late? He’s in room—”

“I know. Go, call your husband.”

Lily hurried back to the large office the doctors shared and called Dax. “Things are crazy here, so I don’t have much time.”

“I’ll make it quick. I’m picking you up at twelve.”

“Thanks, but I’m going to stay for the afternoon.”

“You said you were closing at noon.”

“We’ve been squeezing in emergency patients, and when we do close I need to do some paperwork.”

Dr. Vijaya Murthy hurried into the office, did a finger wave to Lily, pulled a medical tome from the bookshelf, and rushed out again.

“Let the other doctors handle the patients. I’ll be there at twelve.”

She huffed. The story of their relationship these days: steps forward, then steps back. Why couldn’t he respect her needs? “Dax, I don’t have time to argue.”

“Then don’t argue.” A pause, then, “It was supposed to be a surprise. We’re going up to Whistler for the weekend.”

“What?”

“I’ve booked a place.”

“Dax! Are you insane?” She shook her head vigorously, her short hair flying out as if she’d been hit by a static charge. He’d made secret plans without consulting her? “What were you thinking?”

“That you need some time off work. That we might both enjoy it. That it’d be good to get away.”

All good points, she had to admit. “All right, I can see that.” She lowered her voice as Dr. Harry Chew came in, opened a storage cupboard, and scanned the shelves. “If you’d discussed it with me a few days ago, I might have agreed, and prepared for it.” Harry pulled out a prescription pad and hurried off. That was another thing the clinic needed: a better system of organizing and ordering office supplies. And maybe an office with more privacy for the doctors.

“I did ask you when the clinic would be closed. And what the hell’s wrong with the occasional surprise?”

He had asked, at dinner on Monday. They’d been reminiscing about that wonderful Christmas in Moose Jaw. Had that given him the idea? “I don’t do so well with surprises,” she admitted, picking up the Zen garden’s miniature rake and drawing patterns in the sand.

“You were more flexible when you were younger.”

“I had fewer responsibilities.”

“You need a break from all those responsibilities.” He paused. “Noon. I’ll be in the parking lot behind the clinic.” Then he hung up.

Should she call him back?

“Dr. Nyland?” It was Jennifer again, poking her head through the office door. “Is everything okay?” Her gaze dropped to the rake in Lily’s fingers.

Lily put it down and stood. “My husband announced that he’s picking me up at noon and taking me up to Whistler for New Year’s.”

“Oh my gosh! How romantic!”

Romantic? Well, yes, she supposed it was. For a woman who liked surprises. “I’m a little stunned.”

“You’ll have a fabulous time. And you sure need—I mean, deserve—the break, Dr. Nyland.”

Another person who thought she needed time off. Lily glanced at the Zen garden, wondering if it had come from Jennifer. “What about the emergency squeeze-ins?”

She waved a hand. “I’ll work it out. Mr. Grant’s waiting for you.”

Leave it to a receptionist to manage the patient load? That went against the grain, but Dax had given her no choice. “Thanks, Jennifer.”

Dax had given her no choice. The thought gave her pause. Was this a dom game? Or just Dax being a take-charge guy, like he used to be? Either way, a thrill of excitement rippled through her.

Anxiety followed quickly. A long weekend at Whistler, just the two of them. That was very different from spending a few hours together in the evening. Their feelings for each other . . . surely they’d become clear over the weekend. What if they found out they really no longer loved each other?

She took a deep breath. Well, then they’d know. That was what she wanted, wasn’t it? A resolution. Divorce would be horrible, but if she truly no longer loved her husband, she’d be able to move on.

A thought struck her. What if she did love him, but his love for her had died? Her heart clutched with pain. But no, she shouldn’t be pessimistic. Surely Dax wouldn’t have planned this getaway if he wasn’t hopeful that they’d renew their love and bring fresh commitment and energy to their marriage—and to building a family.