Page 31 of Winter’s Fire

For a novice, she was damn near perfect. Did she really not know how stunning she was? “Look at me.”

Her eyes snapped to his. The fear that shadowed them disturbed him. Was he such an ogre?

“Come here.”

He saw only one issue with her appearance, and he had the remedy for that. The collar was soft and narrow—Giorgio’s suggestion when Logan had asked him for a recommendation. If he were collaring a sub for real, he’d choose something more decorative, with a lock only he could open. For now, though, the leather band would convey the message loud and clear that Lucy wasn’t available.

“Princess, at a club like Aegis, there are certain standards and protocols that everyone understands and follows. As my submissive, you’ll be expected to wear—”

“A collar.” She was staring at the strip of black leather, but didn’t seem to be too disturbed by it. If anything, she seemed pleased. “Everyone’ll know I’m with you?”

Logan nodded. “When we get to the club, you’ll also have a colour-coded wristband—so will I. The collar says you’re with me, and the bands will let everyone know we’re not interested in playing with anyone else. You okay with that?”

“Oh yes.” Her smile became a little more natural. “I just hope I don’t mess this up.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll do just fine. Turn around and lift your hair for me.”

As he fastened the collar around her slender neck, Logan was battered by a storm of memories. This was not history repeating itself. Lucy was not Sophia, and the circumstances were entirely different—the women were entirely different. It didn’t stop the trembling in his fingers, but when he laid his hands on her shoulders, her warmth bled into him and saved him from the abyss constantly threatening to swallow up his already blackened soul.

“How does that feel? Not too tight?”

She shook her head. “No, Sir. It’s… strange, but I feel…”

Logan hadn’t been this nervous since he’d foolishly risen to the bungee-jump challenge while on his first official visit to New Zealand. Hell, right now, that would be preferable to waiting for Lucy to find her words.

Her shoulders lifted beneath his palms as she took a deep breath.

“I know I’m not a sub, but… it’s reassuring. Comfortable, even. I think that’s the best way I can describe it.”

So she didn’t think she was submissive? Logan already had his doubts on that score. The changes in her were subtle, but he’d noticed.

“Possibly because a collar is a physical symbol of the rules you don’t find in vanilla relationships.” Logan took hold of her hair and combed it free with his fingers. “Not just the rules you’re expected to obey as my submissive—I mean the rules we all recognise as part of the lifestyle.”

She turned to face him once more. “Yes, but I think there’s more to it than that. It’s what I’ve learned about how essential trust and honesty are, and communication. I almost wish—” She broke off as if she’d said too much.

Logan wasn’t about to let that slide. “Go on. Trust, honesty and communication, remember?”

She took a deep breath. “I almost wish I were a sub. The last couple of days have made me realise how… difficult relationships are outside the lifestyle, because we don’t have that structure.”

Sadness shadowed her words, as if she’d been shown something she could never have. There was a story behind that. Logan wondered if he’d ever find out what that story was. Perhaps one day… if he were to offer that structure to her.

“Suppose you could have it—do you find the possibility attractive?”

A thoughtful light appeared in her eyes. Something thumped in his chest in response.

“How?”

“You know how.”

He waited. The decision was hers to make, and hers alone.

“Logan, I…” She clasped her hands in front of her, stared at them as if using them to focus her thoughts. “Logan, when I rang you, the night before I came here, there was something I wanted to say, but I was too much of a coward to go through with it. I know I’m supposed to play your submissive. I know I’m not submissive, but…”

Logan waited. He’d wait for as long as it took for her to find the words.

“I don’t want to fake this. I… like you, and if you were okay with it, I’d really like… to do this for real. I’d like you to kiss me. I’d like it even more if you… did more than kiss me. Unless you’d rather not?”

The last of his shields crumbled into dust. Captivated by her courage yet again, he cupped her cheek in his palm and stroked the pad of his thumb over the softness of her skin, before threading his fingers through her hair, gripping the silken strands and denying her a last chance to escape him.