Reagan didn’t remember the last time she’d eaten anything as delicious as the meal Rafe ordered when she’d been unable to decide. After her stomach growled so loud he’d heard it across the table, Rafe had shaken his head and given the middle-aged waitress their meal selections. “Peach, I don’t usually order for my dinner dates without asking first. But it seemed as though your inability to make a decision might well lead to starvation, and that wasn’t going to do a thing for my reputation.”
She’d laughed at his faux concern for the damage her collapse would do to his standing in the kink community. “I haven’t worked at the club long, but it does seem they might frown on a Dom having a woman expire on their watch. And since you’re a physician, I doubt your colleagues would be very understanding, either. Heaven knows hospitals are a terrible place to keep anything under wraps.”
Dropping her gaze to the table, Reagan hoped he didn’t ask her how she’d learned about the rumor mills operating inside most medical facilities. She’d almost laughed out loud when Master Nate warned her about the subversive chatter he called a common curse in BDSM clubs. Since she’d been completely transparent with them, he’d quickly realized the irony of his comments. Considering her personal background, his cautionary words were unnecessary.
“Reagan?”
The sound of Rafe’s voice brought her back to the moment, and she wondered for a moment how long he’d been speaking to her. Cripes, inattention almost got me killed a year ago. You’d think I’d have learned my lesson.
“I’m sorry. Guess I’m a bit more spent than I realized.” She might not sleep enough, but the extra money would go a long way to ensuring she wasn’t out on the street if she got laid off.
Small frown lines formed between his brows. “How long are you planning to work both jobs?”
“As long as I can. Savings accounts drain pretty quickly when you are unemployed.” Reagan was grateful she was saved from the questions she saw in his eyes when the waitress appeared with their food. Rafe didn’t look pleased with the waitress’s timing, but since they’d already established this was the first meal she’d have today, he didn’t protest. It was probably a short reprieve, but Regan held out hope she could redirect the conversation.
They finished their meals with minimal conversation, and when she finally glanced up from her empty plate, Rafe was smiling at her. His expression was more amused indulgence than judgement, but that didn’t keep her embarrassment from stealing her breath. Reagan felt her cheeks flush, but he shook his head. “Don’t. I’m thrilled you enjoyed your dinner.”
She relaxed and shook her head. “It was delicious. For a small diner, the food is amazing.” She leaned back and sighed. “Hopefully, this will reenergize me.” Glancing at her watch, Reagan grimaced. “I hate to be a killjoy, but I need to get home and change.” It wouldn’t take her long to walk to the bus stop, but the route ended almost a mile from the club, so she needed to allow extra time to cover the distance.
“Come.” He stood and held out his hand. Rafe pulled her slowly to her feet and then settled his warm palm against her lower back as they walked out. She couldn’t hold back the shiver that moved through her at the possessive heat of his hand through her thin shirt.
After he’d settled her in his luxury SUV, Reagan realized she was going to have to tell him where she lived. Dreading his response to her living accommodations, she considered giving him a phony address. But, since she was probably the worst liar in the history of the world, she quickly discounted the idea. Why am I trying to impress a man who is going to walk away as soon as he sees my scars? Of all the men in the world who wouldn’t want to be seen with her, a renowned plastic surgeon was at the top of the list.
Rafe watched Reagan’s hands twist in her lap as they neared the address she’d given him. Nothing about her added up. During their conversation at dinner, she’d been articulate and insightful, even giving him some great suggestions about possible locations when he’d mentioned considering moving his practice from San Francisco. She’d given compelling arguments for the need for patient care in both Texas and Montana. She had a clear command of the terminology, making him wonder if she had a medical background.
He’d parked in front of her small apartment, but he wasn’t looking at the ancient building’s crumbling façade. His attention was focused on the nervous woman sitting beside him. Reaching for the door handle, Rafe watched Reagan paste a fake smile on her face before turning to him. Oh, little sub, you have so much to learn about Doms. Reading body language is what we do, darling. “Well, thanks so much for dinner and the ride home. I’ll…well, I guess I will see you later.”
“Take your hand off the handle, Reagan.” His tone made it clear the words had been a command, and her hand rested back in her lap before she’d even registered what he’d said. “Good girl. When you are with me, I’ll always open doors for you. I’m going to walk you in and wait until you’re ready to go to the club.”
“You don’t have to do that, Sir.” Damn. Even she’d been able to hear how unconvincing she’d sounded. His tight smile didn’t reach his eyes, nor did he bother to respond before getting out of the SUV.
He moved around the front of his vehicle, and she felt a burst of heat rocket from her core. Dr. Rafe Newell had to be the sexiest man she’d ever met. Everything about him flipped her switches. She’d seen him shirtless with his leathers riding low on his hips at the club one night and almost tripped over her own tongue. The image was still burned into her brain and fueling her darkest fantasies.
“Come. Let’s get you inside where it’s warmer.” She’d been so lost in thought she hadn’t even realized he’d opened her door. His deep voice would have made her swoon, but suddenly, all she could think about was what he was going to be say when he stepped into her apartment. Two minutes later, she had her answer. “It’s fucking freezing in here.”
“The landlord hasn’t had time to fix the furnace. I’m sure he’ll get to it soon.” At least I hope to hell he does, because showers are pure torture.
“The temperature is going to drop dramatically during the next few hours, Peach. It will be impossible for you to sleep here. How are you supposed to even shower? Good God, it can’t be more than fifty fucking degrees in here.”
He pushed his hand through his hair in frustration as he looked around at her humble abode. “Listen, I have a house close by. There are several spare bedrooms, and it’s warm.” He returned his focus to her, drilling her with a stare so intense it felt like he was touching her. She didn’t move. She was afraid to breath. “Do you trust me, Reagan?”
“Yes, Sir.” The words slipped out so easily Reagan realized they were true. She shouldn’t. Watching someone for several weeks wasn’t the same as knowing them.
“Put a few things together, and we’ll be on our way. We’ll come back in the morning to be sure the heat is on.” She could see the muscles in his jaw ticking. He was obviously barely holding his temper in check.
Gathering what she’d need for the night, she didn’t waste any time and could tell he was surprised when she announced she was ready. “Before we go…I’d like…well, I want to say thanks. I wasn’t looking forward to taking a shower here.”
Rafe’s entire demeanor softened. “You’re most welcome, Reagan. I’m grateful you didn’t protest. I’m not sure I’d have been able to leave you here later tonight.” She appreciated his concern. It had been a while since she’d had someone to worry about her. Heaven knew the staff at the prison where she’d volunteered hadn’t given her safety a second thought. Shuddering as memories started to assail her, Reagan felt Rafe’s arm encircle her shoulders. “Come on. Let’s go. It’s too cold in here for you. Please tell me you have something warmer to wear.”
Pulling a slightly heavier jacket from a peg near the door, she grinned. “I know it isn’t much, but I didn’t need anything warmer before I moved to Montana. I just haven’t had the time or been willing to part with the money to buy a heavy coat yet.” She’d been more worried about being able to keep a roof over her head than buying a parka, but even she was willing to admit it was time to find something more substantial.
He helped her into the lightweight coat while muttering something about shopping never being a problem for any other women he’d known. She almost laughed at his bewildered musing. Even before she’d been attacked, she hadn’t particularly enjoyed shopping for clothes. And now it was even worse. Seeing the horror on a sales clerk’s face when she’d stepped into the dressing room unannounced was an experience Reagan wasn’t anxious to repeat. The older woman hadn’t intended to hurt Reagan’s feelings, and she’d shuttered her horror quickly, but not before Reagan saw the shock in her eyes. Reagan didn’t need the reminder of the scars she carried. Yeah, I have to look at them every day.
Rafe chuckled when he helped Reagan from the car, and she gasped. “Holy hell, it’s warmer in your garage than it was my apartment. That’s just wrong.” He didn’t remind her the door had just been wide open, also. It would have been practically balmy inside a few moments earlier.
Keying in his security code, he opened the door and led her into the kitchen. He’d already turned the heat up via the app on his phone. His hand tightened around her upper arm when she stopped suddenly. “What’s wrong, Peach?”
“It’s beautiful. Your home, I mean.” Her eyes were wide as they surveyed the large chef’s kitchen. “And if you don’t live here full-time…I have to wonder what your home in San Francisco must look like.”
Chuckling, Rafe let his hand slide down her arm so he could link his fingers with hers. “Come on, sweetness. Would you like something to drink?”
“A cup of coffee would be wonderful. I have a feeling I’m going to need the caffeine tonight. I have the second shift, but clean-up can take a while after special events.” He fixed her a small cup of coffee and smiled at her frustrated grumbling.
“Caffeine isn’t the answer, Peach.” Taking her small hand in his, he led her down the hall to the largest of the guest rooms. “I think you’ll find everything you need in the attached bath, but if there’s something else that will make you feel at home, just let me know.” It wasn’t easy to walk away, but he forced himself to step out of the room before he pushed her against the wall and kissed her senseless. Reagan Walsh was temptation personified. Only time would tell if the two of them would be compatible in the playroom, but for the first time in years, he was anxious to learn more about a woman than how many ways he could make her come.
Making his way quickly to the other side of the house, Rafe pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed Nate Ledek. As one of the owners of the Mountain Mastery Club, he would have interviewed Reagan when she applied for the job. After Rafe explained the situation with Reagan’s apartment, Nate snarled a string of expletives. “I can tell you from experience the man she’s dealing with is anything but honest. There probably isn’t a damned thing wrong with the furnace. He’ll set it just high enough to keep the pipes from freezing until she threatens to move.”
Rafe wasn’t surprised. He hated landlords who took advantage of their tenants, particularly when it was a single woman living alone. “I’ll pay him a visit tomorrow. Hopefully, he’ll fix it.”
“It’ll probably take you a couple of weeks to track him down. He runs everything remotely and is rarely in Montana. I’m not sure I can help her find another rental at this time of year. The skiers have probably snagged everything by now.” Nate sounded as frustrated as Rafe felt.
They talked briefly about her housing options before Nate asked the question Rafe had been certain the club owner would voice. “Is your interest personal or professional?”
“There is nothing professional about my interest in Reagan. Why would there be?”
“We’ll talk when you get here. There are things you need to know. I didn’t realize you were interested in her, or I’d have spoken to you sooner.” Nate took a deep breath before continuing. “For what it’s worth, Rafe, I’m damned glad she’s in a safe place. I’ve been worried about her. She’s burning the candle at both ends trying to get ahead financially before she gets laid off.”
“Is that inevitable?”
“Yes. It’s only a matter of time. Tom Ross, the owner of the cargo company, is being pressured to reduce his work force in advance of the merger. When I called to check her reference, Tom told me Reagan is the best worker he has. He’d much rather cut others. Unfortunately, the airport has a union, so she’ll be the first to go. And that’s coming sooner rather than later.”
“And let me guess. Her landlord is hoping she’ll move so he can rent the space to skiers for an inflated price.”
“Probably. His rental business has exploded over the past few years, but his integrity has declined in equal measure.” Nate sounded as frustrated as Rafe felt. There wasn’t a chance in hell the man was going to fix the heat in her apartment.
After speaking with Nate, Rafe took a quick shower and changed into casual wear. Landon and Savanah’s reception wasn’t formal, but that didn’t mean he felt comfortable wearing his leathers. Moving back to the main part of the house, Rafe smiled to himself when he caught the scent of peaches. Damn, he could get used to her being here. Stepping into the kitchen, he froze at the sight greeting him.