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"Tyler, what are you doing here?"
"As I said. Missing you. "
"I wasn't expecting you. "
He stayed where he was though everything about her made him want to go to her.
"I owe you an apology. And I have an offer to make, as I said. " The pale blue eyes were wary. "You don't owe me anything, Tyler. You've made it possible for me to continue my membership at The Zone. Thank you for that. " He put the organizer back in his jacket, stood up, watched her eyes gauge his intent.
"You know, you have this way of making me feel like a knight riding up to an ensorcelled castle. Guarded by dragons, a deep moat and damn near unscalable walls.
But it's those sorceress's eyes that are the most impenetrable fortress of all. It's like you're standing on the top turret, daring me to find a way in. "
"Perhaps it's not a dare. A dare implies a desire for the dragon to be fought, the moat to be jumped, the wall breached. Sometimes the message is as simple as it seems.
'Don't go past this point. I don't want you here. '" Oh yeah. He'd been right. She'd not only recreated her shields, she'd reinforced them to the point the Great Wall of China looked like it had been made out of Tinkertoys in comparison.
She simply looked at him, waiting.
"In all the readings I've done," he said, "there's often this part in the story where a Goddess comes in, full of power and calm. Who has astounding beauty without glamour, the beauty of Nature, all the things that are so powerful in their perfection.
And she makes everything better. I look at you and the names come to my lips. Athena, Isis, Freya, Niuka. . . "
"Tyler - "
"Hush and let me finish. "
She subsided, pressing her lips together. He took a step forward, his eyes steady on hers. "I haven't honored you as a Mistress as you deserve. I want to give you the gift you've given me. Please allow me the privilege of serving as your slave for one night. " A charged stillness fell over the room. For several moments, her eyes did not waver.
Did not even blink. No part of her moved but he sensed how much was going on in her head. Possibilities, motives weighed. He made sure he was her mirror, waiting for her response with no change in his expression.
Then her gaze moved. Slid down his neck, over his shoulders and chest with the thoroughness with which he suspected her hands could or would. He felt her power roll over him and immediately understood why a sub might feel as if he faced the simultaneously most terrifying and pleasurable experience of his life. This she knew, was familiar with. Excelled at. His cock hardened and he thought of closing the two steps between them to pull her against him, make her feel his need. But he knew how to play poker. He waited.
"At The Zone. "
"Wherever you wish, angel. "
"I wasn't asking. "
A smile tugged at his lips. "Name your day and time. I'll be there. " A car door slammed somewhere outside. Something in her eyes shifted. He felt like he was witnessing the turning of a dial that shuttered away one face and produced another, but in that brief moment before the Mistress disappeared those tempting lips formed words.
"Tuesday, eight o'clock. "
The same time she always played with her subs, perhaps to underscore that he would be no different. She was carrying around a grudge. With rueful resignation he realized he'd just handed her the means to exercise it.
But when she moved past him, he inhaled her scent and saw the pulse in her throat.
He couldn't miss it because it was pounding hard just below that lovely jaw. Without another glance at him, she disappeared behind the swinging kitchen door.
* * * * *
She used a precise method when she washed out the teacups and pots made of glass. Using her fingers instead of a cloth, she worked the soap around the rims and into the cup itself. Then rinsed them under a water spout that came on by sensor.
Finally, she turned the cup over on a soft cloth on the counter. She immersed herself in the process, shutting out noise and anything beyond the scope of the square sink full of water. She wouldn't allow her mind to go anywhere beyond the immediate task. She certainly wouldn't allow herself to wonder if he'd joined the children outside. Or if he'd left altogether, his mission accomplished. She gripped a teapot, lifted it.
"Your friend says the more a woman ignores a man, the more it's a sign of her interest. "
His breath was on her neck. Marguerite hadn't heard a sound. Not the swinging door, not his footsteps.
