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Thinking about the gorgeous man elicited another sigh. He’d been so kind to her from the moment they found her in his car and every moment after. He checked up on her regularly and always made sure she had everything her heart desired. At least, the things she could put to words.
Straightening her spine and lifting her chin, she crossed the room to the exit with determination. The promise of the world outside beckoned her. Maybe she could find the stern Master Derek and ask for a job. She might as well make herself useful in some capacity.
The elegantly understated corridor outside her room stood hushed, the hour too shy for the bustle of daily life to have begun. Her slippers muffled her steps as she passed numbered doors, their secrets guarded by tasteful art and the soft light from wall sconces.
Drawn by the desire to explore, she ventured out, her movements stiff yet determined. The guest wing was quiet, the only sounds her own soft footsteps and the gentle whisper of her breath. It was peaceful here, a stark contrast to the chaos of her former life.
As she wandered, the building remained hushed, its inhabitants likely lost in slumber. She felt a twinge of relief at the solitude; no prying eyes, no questions, just her and the silent embrace of the early morning.
The lobby, when she entered it, was a testament to the Ranch’s luxurious hospitality. Despite the rustic, ranch-inspired aesthetic, there was no denying the air of affluence that permeated the space. The grandeur of the vaulted ceilings with their exposed logs, the inviting arrangement of the large, comfortable armchairs, and the central, double-sided fireplace’s warm glow spoke of a place that catered to comfort and style. However, the pre-dawn light lent everything a soft ambiguity, the details of the outdoor vista veiled until the sun climbed higher to illuminate the world.
But the outdoors would have to wait as Rebecca’s attention was drawn to the check-in desk. It stood unoccupied, a rare occurrence given the twenty-four-hour staffing she had read about in the welcome brochure. Beyond it, the Ranch store presented a curious blend of items in its visible inventory—a blend of the everyday and the extraordinary, of the mundane and the mystifying.
Her curiosity piqued, Rebecca was drawn toward the infirmary wing. The corridor was quiet, the doors closed, the world still not quite awake.
A splash of color caught her peripheral vision, drawing her gaze to a door alive with cheerful caterpillars rendered in every hue imaginable. Compelled by a whimsy she hadn’t felt in what seemed like eons, Rebecca pushed the door open.
Inside, the Nursery was an enchantment spun from pastel colors and the innocent joy of youth. Playpens, highchairs, rocking chairs—all the furnishings one would expect—were there, set against walls brightened by juvenile art projects. Tables were paired with little blue plastic chairs, and floor-to-ceiling shelves brimmed with toys, books, and art supplies poised for creative endeavors.
Rebecca would have pulled the door closed again if an oddity hadn’t struck her. Slowly blinking, she took in the furniture. It wasn’t sized for children but for adults, lending the room an air of surrealism that intrigued and bewildered her in equal measure.
Everything whispered of a world where boundaries blurred, where the carefree joy of youth could be recaptured, perhaps, by those who had long left it behind.
In the hush of the early morning, Rebecca stood amidst this anomaly, a thousand questions whirling through her mind. Here the unexpected seemed to be the norm, and she couldn’t help but wonder what other secrets lay tucked away within the Ranch’s expansive grounds.
The world she’d stumbled into at Rawhide Ranch continued to surprise, challenging her perceptions and teasing her curiosity with each uncovered layer. She ventured into the room.
CHAPTER 9
As the first light of dawn seeped through the windows, Dante, usually poised and unshakable, grappled with an unfamiliar restlessness. His retreat at Rawhide Ranch deviated from what he had anticipated. Leonora’s diva behavior and his decision to visit the Ranch alone were still fresh memories in his mind. However, it was the unexpected, unconscious woman he had stumbled upon who continued to dominate his thoughts. Despite the bevy of available submissives at the Ranch, none sparked his interest, except her.
Rebecca Miller.
Determined to rid himself of this uncharacteristic obsession, Dante sought refuge where he always did—in physical exertion. The Ranch’s gym held an impressive array of equipment, where iron was tested and respected. He relished the solitude, the gym empty at this early hour. Surrounded by silent machines and weights, he found a sense of peace that had eluded him since his arrival.
The expansive glass walls offered him a panoramic view of the indoor pool. Underwater lighting gave the blue basin an almost ethereal glow as the water rippled against the sides of the pool.
Turning away from the view, the array of equipment laid out before him beckoned. Dante moved with purpose, his muscles flexing as he selected a set of barbells. The familiar clink of metal was a comforting melody. The sound grounded him in reality.
He settled into a rhythm, his body responding easily to the demands he placed on it. The burn in his muscles was welcome, the steady throb in sync with his heartbeat. Yet, even as he pushed himself, his reflection in the vast mirror panels betrayed his distraction, his usually sharp gaze distant.
The scent of his own sweat, the strain in his joints, and the controlled movements were all tactile reminders of the present. However, they were combatants in the battle for his attention, which was stubbornly fixated on the enigmatic woman he’d found.
Dante’s reverie broke at the chime from his phone. Wiping his face, neck, and hair with his towel, he checked the message.
Master Derek: Please come to my office ASAP.
The request was unusual enough to interest Dante. Draping the towel around his neck, he abandoned his workout, his curiosity overriding his desire for physical exhaustion.
He took the stairs, his steps quick and determined. Ascending two at a time, he navigated the lobby to Derek’s office.
An unexpected sight outside Derek’s office stopped Dante dead in his tracks before he could knock on the double doors adorned with lever doorknobs, and a bronze placard bearing Derek’s name. Rebecca sat on one of the plain benches, a picture of vulnerability with her head bowed and her hands clasped tightly on her lap. Something twisted in Dante’s chest, an unfamiliar pull.
“Hey, darling, what are you doing here this early?” he asked, his voice softer than he intended as he knelt to meet her gaze.
She shook her head, but before she could respond, Derek’s office door opened.
The Master himself appeared. “Ah, Master Dante, thank you for coming so quickly,” Derek greeted, his presence commanding as always, but his eyes held a hint of concern that Dante couldn’t decipher.
