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Dominique appeared a moment later, Rowan just behind her, now dressed in one of the short silk kimono robes always available in the recovery rooms.
Garfield stepped forward, a gentle smile on his smug face, his eyes shining with sincerity and affection.
“Darling girl,” he said, holding out his arms. “I’m so sorry to have put you through this. But I’m back now. Your Master has come to take you home.”
Chapter 9
Master John kept his arm firmly around Rowan’s shoulders as he propelled her from the room. She managed to twist her head back to see Eric, who had risen from his seat. His hands were clenched at his sides, his mouth set in a hard line. Rowan’s heart clutched painfully in her chest. She wanted to say something to him, but she had no idea what, nor did she dare.
Instead, she tried to memorize his face, the kind eyes, the strong nose, the neat line of his beard along his strong jaw. Would she ever see him again?
“We’ll wait in the front hall,” Master John informed Mistress Dominique, who had followed them out of the room. “Have your boy fetch Rowan’s bag.”
“Mr. Garfield, I really think you should—” Mistress Dominique began.
Master John held up a hand. “No, it’s fine, Mistress. I’m sorry if I lost my temper just now. No hard feelings. This place is just the wrong fit for my girl.”
Mistress Dominique seemed like she wanted to say more on the subject, but instead she asked Rowan, “Are you all right?”
“She’s fine,” Master John snapped, his grip tightening around Rowan’s shoulders. “Aren’t you, darling?” he added, kissing the top of her head.
Rowan met Mistress Dominique’s steady gaze, disconcerted by what looked like pity in her eyes. While it was true Rowan didn’t like feeling like a kid being picked up early from school for bad behavior, why should anyone pity her? Master John obviously had only her best interests at heart. Wealthy, handsome, accomplished, he could have had any woman he wanted. But somehow, he’d chosen Rowan, a twenty-three-year-old nobody with very little experience in the scene. He’d seen her potential, and he just wanted her to succeed. He loved her so much that he’d cut short an international trip to be by her side.
Of course she was all right. Better than all right. She had a man who adored her, and who knew what was best for her.
She managed what she hoped was a bright smile as she answered, “Yes, Sir.”
She had the oddest feeling that Mistress Dominique was looking past her words, seeking the lie behind them. Flustered, Rowan looked down.
“I’ll send Brandon with your bag,” Mistress Dominique finally said. “Good luck to you both.” She turned away, her heels clicking against the polished marble floor.
Once they were alone, Master John, his arm still around Rowan, nuzzled her hair. “I’m so sorry, baby. I was an idiot to trust your care and training to these people. Maybe I’ve had some unrealistic expectations. Sometimes I forget just how young and new to the lifestyle you really are. I promise to do better.”
He moved his hand from her shoulder to the back of her neck. His fingers tightened as he added, “I won’t let you go again. You’re mine.”
Somehow the words, which would have thrilled her not long ago, sent a shiver of unease through her gut.
Even while her body reacted to his touch, his scent, his undeniable dominance, her mind whirled with confusion. On the one hand, she was vastly relieved that Master John didn’t seem angry with her. On the other, she was quietly freaking out.
As disloyal as it felt, she didn’t want to leave the safe, nurturing confines of the Masters Club. She had liked being surrounded by other like-minded subs. Even Master Grayson and Mistress Dominique, while somewhat formidable, had been kind and understanding when they’d met with her to discuss her first day. They’d emphasized her accomplishments, such as they were, instead of focusing on that one spectacular failure.
As hesitant as she’d been to come to the program at all, now she didn’t want to leave. She’d been making progress. Being yanked prematurely from the program felt like quitting, like failing.
It was all Eric’s fault. Why did the trainer have to go and involve Master John? Had he told him of her meltdown after he’d promised not to? Why couldn’t he have kept his mouth shut?
If only she hadn’t crashed and burned during that damn first session. And she never should have admitted to Eric that it hadn’t been her idea to shift from Dom/sub to Master/slave with Master John. Somehow, he’d used that against her, she was sure of it.
Brandon arrived a moment later with Rowan’s overnight bag. Master John dropped his arm and took a step back as the house slave moved forward to give Rowan the dress and sandals she’d worn to the club.
