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Chapter 1
Dahlia Simon hurtled into the staff cafeteria, not even stopping by her office first to drop off her coat. Plastic pine boughs threaded with tinsel and shiny red and green ornaments had been hung along one wall in a nod to the season, a small menorah set on a table beneath. As she caught her breath, she scanned the room, trying to distinguish among the various white-coated and scrubs-clad people hunched over their breakfast trays.
Where was Hayden? Had she missed him? Had he even been there? Had she ruined everything?
Her heart lifted, relief flooding her when she spied him at a table in the corner, his back to her. She stood still a moment, drinking him in. Even from behind, he was easy on the eyes, his wavy light brown hair streaked with gold and in perpetual need of a cut. She liked it that way, curling against the back of his neck in pleasing contrast to the dark blue scrubs that stretched across his broad shoulders and back. Not that she’d ever tell him that. Guys as good looking as Hayden Pierce needed no additional encouragement.
Moving toward the self-serve area, she grabbed a yogurt and a bottle of water, paid for her purchases and headed toward his table. As she approached, she saw he was on his cell, his tone quiet but earnest. She naturally assumed he was talking to a patient or another doctor. As she got closer, she froze in place, immobilized by what she was hearing.
“…might want to consider restraining her for the needle play. Ropes—chains—whatever makes sense. If you take away that added difficulty of requiring her to hold her own position, she might be better able to fully embrace her submission.”
Goose bumps prickled over Dahlia’s skin. What in the world was the man talking about? And to whom?
Hayden turned, catching sight of her as she neared. “Gotta go,” he said abruptly. “Keep me posted.”
Without missing a beat, he flashed a smile at Dahlia while slipping his cell into his pocket. “There you are,” he said easily, his expression friendly but neutral. “Thought I was going to have to finish my breakfast alone this morning.”
Setting down her tray, she removed her coat, draping it over the back of the chair. Her carefully rehearsed apology had flown from her brain, his words of a moment before crowding it out.
Ropes. Chains. Submission…
Hayden was regarding her curiously, apparently waiting for some kind of response.
“Sorry I was so late,” she managed as she slid into the seat across from his at the small table. “I got to my subway stop just as my train was pulling away and had to wait over twenty minutes for the next one.”
He nodded sympathetically as he speared a large bite of pancake soaked in butter and syrup. He didn’t seem to be in the least bit perturbed. Was she the only one who’d spent the weekend ruminating over the train wreck of what had been a promising conversation that past Friday? Maybe she’d made a bigger thing of it all than it had warranted.
