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“Ah, but they did. And they still do.”
“Do you mean that even now, the women on Sanctuary Ranch are . . .”
“Protected by the men. They act like guardians of sorts. Keeping them safe and enforcing the rules. But everything is done with consent. They all agree to it. And anyone who abused their wife or girlfriend would be swiftly dealt with.”
Yeah, she still didn’t believe it was really like that.
Why was he telling her all of this, anyway?
“A number of the men on Sanctuary Ranch are Dominants,” he told her.
They were? Eden had never hinted at that. But then why would she? It wasn’t exactly something that had come up in their brief conversations. And really, mostly she’d made it about her, hadn’t she?
Guilt ate at her. She hated the way she’d treated Eden. She wished she could apologize, only she had no idea how.
Hey, Eden, sorry I used you to get money so I could get away from my abusive boyfriend. Unfortunately, the asshole found the cash before I could leave him and snorted it all up his nose.
That had been before Carl. You’d have thought she would have learned to be pickier about who she got involved with. But no. Maybe it was her. Maybe she attracted assholes.
“Little Thief, are you all right?
“So they’re into BDSM?”
“Yes, and many of them are—” The door opened before he could finish that sentence and he gave a frustrated sigh.
“Sorry I took so long. Miles burned himself making a pot of tea. Then Eli went all mother-hen on him so it took me a while to get here.”
“Who is Miles?” she asked.
Webb grimaced.
“Miles is my tech expert,” Zander told her.
From the look on his face, Webb appeared surprised that Zander had told her that.
“You can meet him soon.”
“Ah, Zander, are you sure that’s wise?” Webb asked.
“What? Why not? Oh, right.” He turned to her. “I should warn you that Miles isn’t as socially adept as the rest of us. He prefers computers to people, so don’t be offended if he ignores you.”
“Right. I won’t be.”
She was going to meet him? Did that mean she was soon going to get out of this room? Well, if they took her to a dentist, she’d get to leave, right? And that would mean there might be an opportunity to escape.
What would be the odds that a chance to escape would come before she got to the dentist? Because she didn’t actually want to visit one.
Not very likely, knowing her luck.
“I didn’t exactly mean that,” Webb said dryly. But he just shook his head and turned to her. “Zander said you have a sore tooth?”
“It’s fine. Zander is overreacting.”
“She’s got a fever. She can’t eat and when she moves her head or tries to smile she winces in pain.”
She glared at Zander, who gave her a stern look back.
Jerk.
