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“Very well.” He nodded with a hint of understanding. “We hope to have a chance to talk to you soon.”
With a quick nod, I cast my eyes to my empty plate. Dylan’s message was loud and clear. Both men would know my story by the end of the night. The rules of submission were cut and dry; Savannah was not allowed to keep any secrets from her Masters. I didn’t take her having to spill my story as a betrayal of confidence. Sharing everything with her Masters was necessary for them to maintain open, honest communication in their relationship. Besides, the cat was out of the bag, and with it, the realization it was time to bury the wounds Davis Walker aka ‘Chain Master’ had inflicted.
Present Day
I woke with butterflies swirling in my stomach and a hum of excitement pumping through my veins. It was crazy for me to feel so giddy. I’d been to hundreds of gallery showings, yet this one had me on pins and needles. I was going to meet the man. The legend. The. Joshua. Lars.
I’d seen pictures of him years ago after the tragic death of his wife and daughter. He was strikingly handsome. Tall with defined, masculine features, but in the photos his green eyes had appeared haunted—they had every right to be. The death of his wife, Victoria, and four-year-old daughter, Camille, rocked the art scene—hard. Victoria had been driving with little Camille to surprise Joshua at one of his local exhibitions. The weather was brutal. Caught in a massive downpour, the car had been swept away by flash flood waters. Search and rescue teams had discovered the vehicle and their bodies the next day. Joshua Lars went into seclusion and hadn’t come out…until tonight.
My heart ached for him. I knew firsthand the hell of healing enough to rejoin the living. There are no words to describe the void left inside when a loved one is ripped from your life, or the struggle to gain closure when you didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. But losing a child, I couldn’t image surviving something like that.
Shaking my head, I cleared the morose thoughts from my mind before wandering down to the kitchen in need of a caffeine infusion. The room was empty, and I stood in front of the intimidating coffee machine wearing a frown as I tried to remember what buttons to push to make a cup of coffee.
“Technology, you’re a pain in my ass.”
I managed to brew a cup, but it was black and bitter as tar. Digging through the cabinets, I spied a container of sugar behind a box of rice. Holding the weapon of Savannah’s most feared punishment, I couldn’t help but grin. Lifting up onto my toes, I reached for the sugar.
“Can I help you?”
In the quiet room, Nick’s deep voice vibrated through me like a sonic boom. With a startled yelp, I launched the box of rice into the air. It landed with a thud spilling out all over the marble floor.
“Dammit, Nick, you scared me half to death!” I shrieked as he laughed.
“I’m sorry, Mel. I thought you heard me come in.”
“Well, obviously, I didn’t,” I huffed as I dropped to my knees to scoop up the mess.
That was about the time Dylan and Savannah entered the kitchen as well. My sister’s eyes nearly bugged out of her skull.
“Mel, what did you do?” she gasped in an accusatory tone before turning a beseeching gaze Nick’s way. “Honestly, Master, you can’t punish her. She’s not in the lifestyle anymore.”
The tall Native American pinned Sanna with a look of disbelief. “I wasn’t attempting to punish her. I accidentally scared her, and she dropped the box of rice, precious.”
“Oh,” Savannah murmured on a quiet rush of air. “Oops.”
“But since it’s already laid out so nice and pretty, would you like a few moments to kneel on it, pet? Maybe think about why you assumed I’d dole out punishment on anyone other than you?” Nick’s brows arched and a ghost of a smirk played over his lips.
“Oh, no, thank you, Master. I’m fine. I…” she stammered.
Both men laughed, and I bit back a grin while a wry smile spread over Sanna’s mouth.
“Where’s the broom?” I asked, flashing my sister a playful smile.
The rest of the day dragged on and on, and even though I had my sister and her Masters to keep me company, I was antsy and unfocused. After an early dinner outside on the deck, I raced to my room to get ready for the gallery event. Primping far more than usual, I wondered if Joshua would show up for the gala with some svelte, blonde model on his arm.
Hell, he could be married again for all you know. And why on earth are you entertaining sophomoric notions about him in the first place?
“You’re certifiable, Mel,” I scolded my reflection in the mirror. “Go buy Abbas his art and get your ass back home.”
With one last look, I smoothed my hands over the silky fabric, sucked in a deep breath, and snatched up my red beaded clutch. Watching me from the foyer as I made down the staircase wearing a pair of vampy red stilettos, Savannah’s eyes grew wide.
“You look gorgeous,” she cooed. “Like you just stepped off a Paris runway.”
I chuckled. “I wouldn’t go that far, sis, but thank you.”
Nick joined Sanna and issued a long, low whistle. “I guess we won’t be waiting up for you tonight, Mellie. Just try not to break whoever ends up dragging you to his lair.”
“Oh, for the love of…I’m not going to bed some stranger. Give me a break,” I replied, rolling my eyes.
