FIFTEEN

The night of the dinner, Athena donned a sequin sheath and swept up her hair. She’d normally wear her diamonds, but she was worried that might be overkill. A couple of times this week, she’d wondered if she’d made a mistake. Perhaps this wasn’t the best event to introduce him to her board of directors and society friends.

The dinner was being held at one of New Orleans’s upscale hotel ballrooms. The guest list was over five hundred people, including most of Louisiana’s top business people, government officials and some local celebrities. Which of course meant society reporters would be milling around outside to take pictures of the elite coming to play together and raise money for a good cause. Louisiana native Harry Connick, Jr. would be joining the full orchestra for a couple of songs.

She should have waited until she was having a private dinner with her board and their spouses to introduce them to Dale. But she’d followed her intuition in that quiet moment in her guest bedroom. What was done was done. However, she’d leave the diamonds in the box for the night. She settled for a simple gold chain and matching earrings.

Certain Dale wouldn’t be comfortable walking the red carpet among the shouting reporters and their flashing cameras, she’d told him she’d meet him at the hotel. She’d added him to the list of those who would take the quieter entrance blocked off by hotel staff for more discreet arrivals.

Therefore, she was surprised when Lynn contacted her over the house intercom system and told her “Mr. Rousseau” was waiting for her in the foyer. “Thank you, Lynn,” she managed. “Ah, see if he wants a drink. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“Already done, ma’am.”

Of course it was. She didn’t know why she told Lynn such obvious things, but perhaps it was simply to reinforce the courtesy.

She checked her hair and told the butterflies in her stomach to settle. As she hurried toward the landing, she told herself it was all going to be fine. Then every thought fled her mind.

She came to a full stop at the top of the stairs, even putting her hand on the banister to steady herself. When he turned toward her, she needed the support even more.

He hadn’t rented a tuxedo at all. Instead, she beheld the breathtaking sight of a man wearing naval dinner dress blues, and Master Chief Dale Rousseau knew how to wear the hell out of them. Her gaze slid over a narrow lapeled, short black coat with gold buttons, worn over black bow tie and studded shirt, a gold cummerbund and perfectly creased black slacks. Gold striping and insignia adorned the left sleeve, and his gold Trident rested over his ribbons on the left panel of the coat.

She’d expected his military bearing and handsome, stern features to set off a tuxedo well, but seeing him in the uniform he’d earned, he was more than a formidable figure. She was swept off her feet.

He had his white hat with its black brim and gold anchor embellishment tucked under his arm, and now she realized he was carrying a trio of roses, tied with a ribbon. She made her feet move at last, though wisely she kept a firm grip on the banister. He cocked his head, considering her with those vivid eyes. The way they covered every inch of her in the form-fitting dress made every workout she’d done, every dessert she’d given up, worth it.

“It’s a good thing you did invite me to this shindig,” he said as she reached the bottom of the stairs. “If I’d seen photos of you in the paper wearing that thing, and you without an escort, we would have had a problem.”

She loved the possessive threat. “I told you that you could meet me there.”

“Yeah, you did. You were trying to handle me, make things easier for me. We’ve had that discussion, a couple times now, haven’t we?” He softened the reproof by touching her face. “You invited me so you wouldn’t have to go alone, Athena. That means from beginning to end.”

His tender caress, the knowing look, made her throat tight, her heart expand painfully in her chest. “Actually,” she said, “I invited you to show you off. My gorgeous SEAL boy toy.”

“Man toy,” he corrected her, with a quirk of his lips.

Now that she was closer to him, she could see even more details of his uniform, the ribbons and embellishments that reflected his career with the SEALs, the honors he’d been given. They were a map of who and what he was. “Dale, you look . . . amazing.”

He ran a thumb along her cheek. “I brought a gift for you. Something I’ll give you later.”

“Not now?” She’d never been good at waiting for gifts. Her visible disappointment was the right response, because the lines around his eyes creased with good humor.

“Well, since you look even more gorgeous than usual, my resistance is low.”

He freed a small velvet bag from his clasp on the roses. Handing the flowers to her, he loosened the drawstring and spilled the contents of the bag out into his hand.

It was a necklace, a beautiful choker of braided silver and gold. The pendant was the SEAL Trident, one crafted by a jeweler who knew his trade, every detail precisely sculpted. Now that she had been with Dale awhile, she knew the significance of every part of that symbol. The eagle with the bowed head, honoring the fallen, the trident he grasped representing the SEALs’ connection to the sea. The cocked flintlock pistol showed the SEALs’ state of readiness at all times. The pendant was gold, a scattering of diamond chips gilding the symbol to give it a more feminine look.

Dale let it drop into the waiting cup of her palm. As he did that, the pendant turned over, such that she saw the engraving on the back. Her breath caught in her throat. Though her other hand still clasped the roses, she found herself also clutching his sleeve for support.

At the club, a sub being collared by her Master was sometimes a ritualized public event, though for most it happened in private. To some, it was as sacred as a marriage proposal. She’d been going twelve different ways tonight, worrying about Dale, figuring out how to ease the experience for him, how to make sure he had a good time . . . handling him, just as he said. Underscoring firmly what he’d said from the beginning, he’d chosen this moment to give her a collar. He was in charge. He was escorting her, helping her not to feel alone at this event for the first time in three years. She was the one in his keeping, not vice versa.

She had male friends who could have taken her in years past, but it wasn’t the same. She’d done what he’d wanted her to do from the first. Make a choice because it was what she wanted and needed, down to the depths of her soul. She’d acted as he expected her to do—as she wanted to do—relying on and trusting her Master, using his dominance as a form of confidence and shield both.

Property of Dale Rousseau.

She lifted her gaze from that remarkable engraving to meet his eyes. “I want you to wear my collar, Athena,” he said. “I’ve never offered it to a woman before.”

In answer, she put the roses on a side table, threading them into the vase of cut flowers already there. She unclipped the chain she’d been wearing, let it coil onto the table’s surface. When she presented her back to him, her breath was shallow, her heart beating high in her throat. She closed her eyes. He put his hands on her bare upper arms, and she felt the coolness of the necklace between his palm and her flesh. As he stepped closer, the wool of his uniform was against her bare back.

She opened her eyes so she saw him bring the necklace down in front of her face. Tucking the dangling pendant beneath her chin, he clipped the choker at her nape. The pendant lay perfectly in the pocket of her throat, the choker snug enough to remind her of his ownership.

“I thought about wearing diamonds earlier,” she said. “I like this so much better.”

His fingers closed on her shoulders again as he put his lips on her throat, just above the choker. She quivered in his grasp, turning her chin to her shoulder to give him full access. “Did you think I wouldn’t be comfortable with the diamonds?” he asked.

“Yes, Master. I’m sorry.”

He slipped his hands around her waist, coming up to capture her breasts in the thin fabric. She arched into his touch, needing him, wanting him.

“I’ll give you a pass, because right now you’re just too beautiful and perfect for me to scold.” He folded his arms around her then, holding her close. “I love you, Athena. Don’t say it back. I know you’re not ready to do that.”

She wasn’t, but hearing him say it made her grip him harder, digging her nails into those strong, callused hands folded across her abdomen. “Thank you for your collar, Master. Thank you so much.”

“My pleasure.” He turned her then, pulled a handkerchief out of his jacket and dabbed carefully at the corners of her eyes, saving her makeup. “None of that, now. I can’t bring the hostess late to her own party. Are you ready?”

With him at her side, she felt ready for anything. She smiled, pushing back tears to please him, savoring the firm clasp of her hand on his. “Yes, Master.”

“Then let’s go to this party.”

—

She’d read about SEALs, their missions, the situations where instant adaptation was the difference between success and failure, life or death. As such, she should have realized Dale was trained to make any situation work for him.

He’d never spoken of his rating before Lawrence and Neil called him Master Chief, but she’d looked it up after that day and learned it was one of the highest designations an enlisted SEAL could earn. She could only imagine the career of dangerous missions he’d had, proving his leadership ability time and again and demonstrating a success rate that proved he could get the job done, whatever was required. He’d known what it was to command men, to lose them. Even if she hadn’t deduced that from her reading, she would have picked it up from everything she knew about him.

That aura of command he carried so well with the uniform resulted in a blend of intense curiosity and unconscious respect from the other guests throughout the evening. As well as a lot of female stares, which made her feel like Dale did about her wearing her sexy dress. With exasperated amusement, she quelled her possessiveness. Somewhat.

Dale fortunately made it easy to manage the feelings, since he rarely left her side. He was a good listener and engaging conversationalist with her guests, but she was keenly aware of his constant attentiveness to her as well. While they were talking to others, he’d often put a hand on her mostly bare back, sliding it provocatively along the low scoop edge of the dress, telling her he was very aware of the body beneath it. He held her chair to sit down for dinner, and when she was seated at the table, he dropped a kiss on her shoulder before taking a seat next to her, his knee pressed against hers. All not-so-subtle signs of possession that made her knees weak and the butterflies continue to roam pleasantly through her stomach.

During the appreciation speech she made, she noticed those sharp blue-green eyes sweeping the crowd, as if he considered himself her personal security detail, same as the men who’d attended with the mayor and some of the celebrities. It was automatic to him, to be protective, but she loved feeling that safe. She should tell him that.

After dinner and the first set of award ceremonies, the dancing started. She was surprised when Dale rose from his chair and offered his hand to lead her onto the floor. It was a slow piece, allowing them to move in an easy four-step. She loved it, being held in the arms of a lover, dancing once again.

“I can dance,” he said, noting her surprise. “Just don’t ask me to jitterbug.”

She chuckled. “I’m not sure I’d be up for that myself. So are you having a good time? I saw you met the mayor.”

“Yeah. We both agreed the sausage and cheese things would make a great tailgate addition for the next Saints’ game.” He gave her a smile. “You were fantastic up there. You’re a great public speaker.”

“It always scares me to death. My stomach flip-flops like crazy, no matter how much I’ve done it.”

“It doesn’t show. But it does explain why you picked at your dinner.”

“Well, that and this dress. There’s really only room for me and one meal in it, and I already had breakfast.”

He grinned. “Serves you right, trying to get all these men hot and bothered.” He held her even closer and she slid her hand from his shoulder to his nape, caressing the short, soft hair there. Lifting onto her toes, she brushed her lips over his ear.

“I only care about getting one man hot and bothered,” she whispered.

She’d taken steps toward claiming her identity as a submissive. She’d been timid with those first steps, mannerly, obedient. But over the past few weeks, a transition had happened, times like this when she embraced how broadly she could explore this sense of herself, teasing her Master at the same time. So now she pressed her lower body against his, managing a discreet rub against his groin as they made the turn.

His eyes glinted dangerously. “Just wait until we’re where I can get you out of that dress. I’m going to remind you of your manners . . . and make love to you while you’re wearing nothing but my collar.”

She reached up, touched his mouth, connecting them like a kiss. “In my bedroom. Please.”

She still had a mix of feelings about it, but overriding all of it was the desire to have him there, to wake up with Dale in her bed. She wanted to take that step with him. She wanted to make her bed their bed.

“We’ll see.” But in the past he’d simply told her no, so she knew he saw things were shifting for her.

“May I cut in?”

Seeing Larry standing beside them, she suppressed the surge of irritation. She’d been aware of his close scrutiny several times tonight, though he’d kept a fairly proper distance. However, with his impeccably poor timing, he’d chosen what anyone else could see was an intimate moment to interrupt their dance.

“I haven’t had a chance to dance with the loveliest woman here tonight,” he said, shifting his gaze between them. “I’d like to speak to Athena for a moment or two. If you don’t mind?”

Dale glanced at her and she gave him a stiff nod. He tightened his fingers on her briefly, then stepped back. “I suggest the jitterbug.”

She stifled a laugh, recognizing the comment was posed to her, not to Larry. As Dale relinquished her to him, she tried to hold on to the feeling. It wasn’t the first time she’d danced with Larry, but she always felt a faint tension at his proximity, a woman’s awareness of when a man wanted more, and she had no interest in that. And not just because he was married.

That didn’t stop him from touching her during board meetings or sessions in her office. All of it casual brushes of her arm or back, the type of contact that couldn’t be called inappropriate except for what she discerned was behind it.

She fixed a polite smile on her face. Larry was a good board member with excellent business acumen, an asset to Summers Industries. It didn’t matter that personally he was a chore for her to handle. In the scheme of things, it was a minor aggravation, one she could manage.

Larry had never touched her while Roy was alive. Roy didn’t give a rat’s ass about maintaining the courteous Southern façade a woman often did in such a situation. He would have pulled Larry aside on the golf course, told him to stop touching his wife or he’d put a five iron up his ass. And break it off for good measure.

“As usual, the event has gone splendidly,” Larry noted. “The guests look very happy, and the silent auction totals are already well beyond a hundred thousand. Your foundation is matching whatever’s raised this year?”

“As always.”

She was just sorry Roy wouldn’t be there to present the check to the community center that Dale, Neil and Lawrence supported. He’d always enjoyed that part immensely. Not the actual check presenting, because of course the cameras had to be there, a necessary evil to help promote the charity in the community. Roy liked staying after the reporters left to take a personal tour, meet the volunteers involved, and learn even more about what they did. He’d enjoyed making money, but he’d equally enjoyed the results of what could be done with it, large or small. Surprising and delighting her with a rare bonsai, or giving the local Salvation Army a twenty percent budget boost, it didn’t matter. He saw the value in either gesture.

“I visited the community center you chose to receive the funds this year. They seem in great need of the money.”

“They are. I hosted an event for some of the boys at my home recently. And the board voted for that, not just me, Larry.”

“Of course. But you are the tip of the spear, aren’t you?” He gave her a friendly smile that she knew wasn’t really friendly at all.

“Well, the tip doesn’t get very far without the rest of the spear propelling it.” She glanced past his shoulder. Dale was talking to Matt Kensington, head of Kensington & Associates, and his lovely wife, Savannah, CEO of Tennyson Industries. She wished she was over there. She’d only spent a brief amount of time with Matt and Savannah at events like these, but she’d intended to get to know them better, because their charity interests often overlapped hers. Interestingly, the way the two of them greeted Dale, it was as if they already knew him. She wondered how they’d met.

“I’m sorry, Larry, I was distracted. You were saying?”

“I said”—his brow creased, reflecting his irritation at her lack of attention, but he could be like that—“your escort was an excellent choice. Having a member of the armed services here makes Summers look very supportive of the military, always a good message to the community.”

“Summers is very supportive of the military. It’s why last year’s auction proceeds were divided between the USO and Wounded Warriors, and we had fifty veterans and their spouses attend the event.”

Larry had no sense of the true significance of that uniform. Or of the sacrifices that went along with it. Dale, a strong man in the prime of his life, had suffered a debilitating injury that forced him to find a new path when his life had been the SEALs. And he had. He’d refused to let his leg give him an excuse to be any less than what he’d always demanded of himself. She thought of what he’d said about trotting his injury and service out to serve a good cause. Hearing Larry talk about it just that way made her understand what he’d meant.

To add to her growing annoyance, Larry had made his predictable move, sliding his hand from its proper place on her waist. Not low enough to be improper, but low enough she felt the forced intimacy, the touch of his smallest finger on the upper rise of her buttock. It made her want to recoil from his touch. He’d done the same thing when she danced with him at the first of these events after Roy’s passing. He’d invited her onto the floor, leaving her no polite way out of it, but that one dance had cured her of wanting to be in any other man’s arms for the rest of the night. At that time, she’d wondered if she’d ever want another man to touch her, even in passing. She’d ached with longing for the unique intimacy of Roy’s arms around her.

Over time, though, she’d realized it was just Larry that made her feel that way. Now she knew she didn’t want Larry touching her anywhere that was her Master’s alone to touch. She found herself fighting an overwhelming urge to end the dance with all the tact of a sledgehammer. Fortunately, someone else took care of that.

“Athena.” Dale was back, and she barely suppressed her sigh of relief. She could certainly handle one middle-aged board member with wandering hands, but the night had been going so well, she resented having to do so. “I’m sorry to interrupt your dance, but Ellen says she needs you for a few minutes, to help sort out a problem with the vendor awards.”

“Of course. Thank you for the dance, Larry.”

—

Dale watched her nod to the man, her gaze meeting Larry’s squarely. Good girl. She didn’t avert her gaze from him at all, didn’t give the bastard any sense he had the upper hand with her. Her dealing with him being an asshole was obviously a regular thing. He’d confirmed that with Ellen when he asked the assistant if she’d be willing to be part of his conspiracy to get Athena away from Larry without making the bloody scene Dale actually preferred.

The admin had followed his gaze, rolled his eyes. “Definitely,” the woman murmured. “You’d think that married prick would take a hint.”

As Athena moved away, he and Larry strolled with her to the edge of the dance floor. However, once they stepped off of it, he put out a hand to stop Larry from leaving his company. Athena disappeared in Ellen’s direction.

“You seem like a very astute man, Larry.”

The board member paused, his brow lifting. “Excuse me?”

Dale met his gaze. Larry had blue-gray eyes, and they tended to shift a lot, a common trait in a man who had specific weaknesses of character. “A woman who can care for her husband until his death, run his company successfully even while grieving”—one who has the courage to reach out for love again, though he held that thought to himself—“deserves your admiration and respect. I suggest you start giving them to her.”

Larry curled his lip. “Is that a threat?”

“No.” Dale shook his head, offering a smile he knew was more a baring of his teeth. “She doesn’t need me to fight this battle for her. She can whip your ass any day of the week. She proves it with every board meeting, doesn’t she?”

He shifted closer, laid a friendly hand on Larry’s shoulder, and now his gaze became a lot less friendly, despite the casual pose. “I don’t need to protect her from you in the boardroom or in your business, Larry, but I sure as hell will protect her from any man’s unwelcome advances, because that part is my job. Starting now, the twisted passive-aggressive mating rituals end. She fully recognizes them for what they are, and she and your wife deserve better from you.”

Larry’s eyes were turning to gray frost, and somewhere inside his misguided brain he was probably thinking about a highly unwise remark. To thwart it, Dale increased his grip on his shoulder, a not-so-subtle warning. “If you don’t listen, you and I will have this conversation again, only there will be a lot less talking. I don’t really give a shit about your lawyers or your money. They only mean something to you, not to me. You take that however you want to take it, as long as it results in one thing—you never putting your hands on her again the way I and everyone else here just saw you do. Including your wife, despite the vodka tonic she just knocked back to try and blind herself to it.”

“How dare . . .”

Dale held Larry’s gaze, challenging him to finish the sentence. Whatever the man saw in his face, felt in the grip of the hand on his shoulder, made him shut his mouth. He pivoted on his shiny, expensive shoe and disappeared into the crowd.

Satisfied, Dale went to find Athena. She’d answered Ellen’s question, some obvious thing the clever admin had made up, and though she was engaged in another conversation, more mingling, he could tell by her casual sweeps of the crowd she was looking for him. It felt good to have that connection with her.

She was a true Southern lady. A thickheaded idiot like Larry would mistake the unflagging politeness, the genteel manners, for vulnerability. He wouldn’t understand that he continued to be defeated and rebuffed because of the steel core beneath. She understood what he was all about, but she was raised to deal with such things with a shield of politeness, not aggression.

Fortunately, Dale had a different code.

Stepping up behind her, he put his hand exactly where Larry had laid his. The easing of her shoulders, her slight shift that pressed her hip and buttock against his leg, made his reaction toward Larry all the more fierce, even as it made him all the more protective toward her. Since he figured he wouldn’t win any points kicking the shit out of one of her board members behind the building, he focused on the latter, stroking her skin, letting her feel he was there, standing at her back.

Christ, he really was in love with her. Simple as that.

—

It was a worthwhile but always exhausting event. The night air was a little cool when they left, so Dale shed his jacket, placing it over her shoulders. When Ellen came out to speak to the departing guests as well, Athena saw her note Dale’s chivalrous gesture. She sent a woman’s smile toward her boss, and it felt good to smile right back about it.

Athena held the heat and scent of him around her as they got into the limo. She fingered the stripes on the sleeve, felt the faint scratch of the wool against her skin. As he put his arm around her, she leaned against his shoulder, a wonderful thing to be able to do. He didn’t make her talk, recognizing she was tired, and their silence was comfortable. He took her hair down, pocketing the pins, and then played with the strands. His fingers caressed her collarbones and shoulder where the dress left her skin bare.

She noticed Rex glancing back at them. He was her usual driver with the car service she occasionally used, and he was obviously making the same mental adjustment her staff had been making these past few weeks, seeing her with someone different. The good thing was they all seemed to like Dale. She did, too. Probably far too much for her own good. But he’d said he loved her, hadn’t he?

She didn’t want to go down the insecure and entirely female path of wondering if it meant the same thing to him that it meant to her. Or how long he would stay with her, what their relationship was about and what he was thinking—Lord, please not that. Pushing it all away, she brushed a kiss against his throat. She slid her arm around his waist, holding him closer as his arm tightened around her. He pressed his lips to her forehead.

“Tired, girl?”

She nodded. “Will you stay with me anyway?”

He touched her chin. “Nope, sorry. If I’m not getting some acrobatic sex from all this dressing up, I’m headed out.”

His teasing gave her a tiny smile. But as he bent to let his lips touch hers, his blue-green eyes were a tropical night sky. His words, spoken low to share only with her, were serious and intent.

“I’m with you for more than that, Athena.”

Her heart beat a little faster, her fingers curling into his side. “That makes one of us,” she managed. “I’m only using you for the acrobatic sex.”

He chuckled. “Don’t forget about my gardening skills. Those are pretty impressive.”

“True.”

She was still smiling as they pulled up to the house. Dale handed over a generous tip before she could reach for her purse. He really was stubborn about some things. It didn’t rankle tonight, though. In truth, there was a part of her that respected his stance on such things, understanding the message he was sending.

She thanked the driver, then slid across the seat. Dale had exited the vehicle so he could take her hand, help her to the curb. As the car pulled away, he put his arm around her waist and they moved up the steps to the front door, hip to hip. He shifted away to give her room to program in the door code, but she stopped him with a hand on his wrist.

“It’s thirty-two, thirty-three, pound.”

He met her gaze, nodded. Keyed it in and opened the door for her.

Since it was after midnight, the house was quiet and dark, only low-level lighting illuminating the foyer and second-level staircase. She stepped out of her shoes, sighing at the feel of the cushioned carpet through her shimmery stockings. Then she sighed a different way when Dale drew her to him. He slid his hands down her sides, to her hips. He held her to him that way as he kissed her, a long, slow pleasurable drowning. She wanted him in a way that was quiet and intense, overwhelming, like the depths of the ocean. Her earlier words hadn’t been the passion of the moment. She wanted that joining to happen in a specific place and, in this clear moment, she understood she didn’t have to direct things. She could just tell him how she felt and trust he’d understand.

She reached up, framing his strong face with her hands. “Please make love to me, Master. In our bed.”

He nodded, bending his head to kiss her again. This one was just as fathomless and swirling as the first, so that every part of her yearned when he finished. He drew back, but only to clasp her hand in his. They ascended the stairs in that fashion, him gripping the railing to balance himself, her holding his hand for her balance.

Her bedroom door was open. When she was going to be out late, Lynn or Beth always left on the dresser lamp. Athena had draped the shade in a blue scarf to give the room the sense of candlelight. The scarf was new, to go with the new décor Athena had been adjusting over the past few weeks. She’d changed out some of the pictures, moving those Roy had particularly liked to other viewing places in the house, replacing them with prints that might appeal to Dale as well as herself. One of those was the large watercolor over the bed. The painting was nothing but horizontal lines, but it combined all the colors of the sea, slightly wavering, so it was obvious that was what the artist intended it to represent. Dale glanced at it, his gaze sliding over the yellow bedspread, the blue and green pillows and the white area rug.

“The colors reminded me of your eyes,” she said without embarrassment.

He curved his long fingers around the side of her neck to draw her to him again. As he kissed her this time, he slid down the side zipper of the dress and then pushed it off her shoulders. The fabric stretched, so that it could be taken to her ankles with little effort. But he wasn’t yet ready to do that. He stepped back, retaining her hand even when they reached the full stretch of their arms. Her breasts were held up on display in adhesive cups that molded to her like a second skin, a necessary accessory to allow for the backless dress. The upper part of the dress was now folded low on her hips, a froth of glittering sequins. She held her breath under the slow, lazy perusal that made her feel like she was utterly his, and he was pleased with what he saw.

“Take it all off. Everything except my collar. But do it slow. I like watching the way you take off your clothes for me.” Proving it, he sat down on a chair, waiting on her.

She might have been tired, but there were certain things he could do to her that would revive her body like electricity. Only tonight, instead of a jolt, the feeling lifted her like an ocean wave, a sense of sudden buoyancy.

She’d played with the necklace countless times tonight, touching the pendant, running her nails under the hold of the choker. She’d been like a girl looking at her shiny new engagement ring, only her obsession was tactile rather than visual. She’d been complimented countless times about the necklace. When one woman recognized the SEAL symbol and the obvious connection to her escort, Athena noticed her eyes and mouth had softened. It was an acknowledgment of the romantic implication, if not the deeper, more potent meaning behind the choker. Her collar.

Dale’s eyes had flickered over it a few times as well. Once, when they were talking to a group of bankers, he’d had his hand on her shoulder, fingers brushing her nape. He’d slid two of them under the back clasp, tugging on it in a discreet, provocative way. She instantly lost her train of thought. He’d interjected a question, covering it, but then he’d given her a teasing look. The heat in his eyes said he liked knowing that his touch on her collar had been responsible for her distraction.

Now she slid out of the dress. The little shimmy she made to get it over her hips earned an intrigued look from his blue-green eyes. Emboldened by it, she slid the stockings off even more provocatively, holding on to the bed post as she freed one, then the other. Due to the fit of the dress, she’d worn a thong only, and a low-rise one at that, since the back of the dress was low enough to show the twin dimples just above the seam of her buttocks. Standing in thong and bra only, she peeled away the cups. The underwires had dug into her flesh, but she resisted the urge to massage the deep grooves she was sure they had left beneath her breasts.

Pivoting away from him, she hooked the sides of the thong and slid it down her legs, bending over as she did so. She walked over to her dresser as if she were floating through water, a sensual creature under his close regard. She laid her undergarments there and removed her earrings, bracelet . . . rings.

She looked down at the three bands on her right hand. She’d never taken them off, for exactly the reasons Dale had guessed. Until him, she hadn’t been interested in encouraging any advances, and those who knew her widowed status had taken it for the message it was. Well, except Larry, but the man had no respect for marriage.

Dale was behind her now. His hand slid under her arm, closed over her hand. “You don’t need to take those off, Athena. They can stay.”

“No,” she said quietly. “Not tonight.” Slipping off the set, she laid them in the crystal dish where she’d placed the earrings.

He turned her to face him. When his hands bracketed her rib cage, his thumbs massaged the grooves the bra cups had left. She emitted a noise of quiet joy.

“You are just too good to be true,” she said.

“Remember that next time I piss you off.”

“You’ve only done that once. Twice. Okay, maybe three times. It really wasn’t necessary to criticize Stealth like that. I enjoyed it.”

“The military should be able to ban movies. Or require a disclaimer that the makers were clueless.”

“The point was entertainment, not accuracy.”

“And Jessica Biel in a bikini. That was the one redeeming quality.”

“Don’t forget Josh Lucas’s blue eyes.” She brushed a light finger along his cheekbone to make his own beautiful eyes glow.

“I’ll have to take your word on the benefits of that.”

Smiling, she rested her knuckles on his shoulder, the crisp white shirt. She’d hung his coat carefully in her closet and he’d removed his tie, left it on her dresser, so now he wore only the shirt, the T-shirt beneath and his slacks. “Did you really enjoy this evening?”

“Actually, I did. You attract good people, Athena. The few less-than-good ones are necessary evils, ones you manage admirably.”

“I saw you talking to Matt and Savannah. I’d like to get to know them better.” Her voice thickened as his thumbs slid out of that abraded area and over the curve of her breast, just below the areola. Her body quivered.

“Good choice. They’re members over at Club Progeny.”

She blinked, tried to sound casual. “Really? You go there?”

“Not recently.” He gave her an amused look, making her flush. “Jealous girl. Over time, I’ve found I prefer Release’s smaller membership, the quieter venue. Before that I saw Matt and Savannah there on a regular basis, though they play in the private rooms. Matt’s pretty possessive. I know the feeling.” He cupped her breasts fully, making her hum in her throat. His thumbs wandered in the cleft, his gaze zeroing in on the choker as she lifted her chin.

“I like seeing that on you.”

“I like wearing it.”

“Every time you touched it tonight, it made me want you. Hell, every time I looked at you, smelled you, heard your voice, I wanted you.”

She trembled, moistened her lips. Stepping back from her, he nodded to the bed. “Go lie there. Wait for me.”

She obeyed. Cognizant of her Master’s gaze, she put her knee on the bed, moved to the center on her hands and knees. When she lowered herself to her stomach, turned onto her hip, his gaze could have burned her flesh.

“You’re teasing your Master more often these days. I like it. It means you trust me more.”

“I do,” she whispered. Her need grew sharper at his expression. He freed his cuff links, opened the shirt. When he stripped it off, she enjoyed how the white tank beneath showed off the musculature of his upper body. He unhooked the trousers. Though he didn’t do the striptease she’d done, he didn’t hurry, either, building her desire with his casual but intent speed. His eyes rarely left her, even when he sat down on the chair to take off his shoes and socks. He stood to push the slacks and briefs down, sat to remove them fully. Then he was moving toward the bed.

Since he didn’t have his crutches, he’d left on the prosthesis, the first time she’d seen him fully naked wearing it. Her Master was trusting her more as well. Responding to it, she slid her hand across the bed, a mute appeal for him to come to her. He closed those several strides, sat down on the edge of the bed. She caressed his hip, brushing his firm buttock with her knuckles as he bent to remove the prosthesis. When he rolled toward her at last, lying on his hip so they were facing each other, it was just Dale and Athena, except for her collar. They were in the master bedroom, lying on the bed she’d put here weeks ago, preparing for this moment. Yet tonight was the first time she was truly prepared for what it meant. He’d been right to wait on her, and his sensitivity, his intuition, intertwined with all the other things about him she’d been learning to love, overwhelmed her senses.

He ran a hand along her arm, his brow creasing. “You’re shaking. Are you cold?”

She shook her head, and his mouth firmed. He slid his arm around her waist, drew her full against him. She made a soft noise at the heat and strength of his body. Sliding her leg over his thigh, she pressed her knee against the base of his taut buttock as his hand descended, fully palming hers to hold her against his erection. He gave her one of those deep kisses, soothing her trembling by banding his other arm around her, pushing her to her back, his chest a solid weight against hers.

Those emotions flooded her, increasing the pressure beneath her rib cage, the aching in her throat. She couldn’t say it aloud, not trusting it.

I’m falling in love with you. I love you.

He shifted onto her, her legs parting to cradle him. So often during these past weeks, he’d built her response to an inferno with a wealth of foreplay, intense BDSM play. He’d consummate the moment only when she was like a wild animal, crazy with need and heat. Tonight, though, it was simple and perfect without any of that. He slid into her with the ease of a key, her body rising up against his, reacting to the pleasure of him stretching and filling her, locking them together. She put her arms around his broad shoulders, tilting her head back as he laid his lips on her throat, using his tongue to trace the skin above and below the collar he’d given her.

“Master . . .”

“Sweet girl. Mine.”

He pushed deeper into her, and she lifted her hips, taking him further inside. He made slow, short movements, an excruciating, pleasurable build. Everything about this felt like it should. So good she was afraid of losing it, but fear had no place between them tonight. Still, he saw it, and he drove it away with the movements of his body, with the endless kisses that became more demanding, compelling her to trust him with all of it, body, mind and spirit.

She surrendered that and everything else, including her fear, and let him carry them both over that precipice. There was no fear then, because when all was quiet again, they were in the bed she could now truly think of as theirs. He was home to her, and she kept her arms tight around him, hoping she was telling him the same thing. She could be his home. That, more than anything else, told her the truth.

She truly was in love with him.