Tears pricked at her eyes. There was a big, comfy couch in one corner, and a small fridge and table. Two easels sat side by side in the perfect spot to catch the light. The big bay windows, once bare, now had gorgeous, gauzy, white window treatments. The room was still stark, but femininity was encroaching, like something inevitable.

He really was dumb.

She turned and threw her arms around him. “I love it.”

He stood there for a moment, but finally his arms came around her. His voice was gruff. “I’m glad, but I didn’t do it for you. It was just time to change.”

So dumb. He could talk about how their relationship was all about sex, but he’d never done this for a sub before. He’d practically rebuilt the room to her specifications. She decided to let it go for now. She pulled away reluctantly. “Well, it’s beautiful.” He stepped back, awkward for once as he turned a hand out.

“Your supplies are over there. This is just the stuff I managed to get boxed up before we left. It will be a couple of weeks for the rest of it.

These arrived this morning, along with your work. I had it all crated and shipped overnight. I opened it, but I haven’t taken them out yet. I thought you would like to do it.”

She shuffled over to the lovingly crated box that contained the three works she hadn’t been able to sell at the gallery. The gallery.

Her stomach churned, but she put aside the bad stuff. If she told Stef she’d had a bad dream about that place last night, he’d have that doctor back checking her for signs of PTSD. She concentrated on the good stuff. “I sold some paintings while I was in Dallas.” She hadn’t sold anything while she was in Bliss. Stefan was a world-renowned artist, but she was just starting out.

“Really? That’s great, Jennifer. I told you that would happen when you concentrated,” he murmured, a little smile on his face.

“You have a great eye and a way with colors.” Jen pulled out the first of the three paintings she had left in her apartment. She set it on the easel. It was the last one she’d finished, with its glorious rushes of green and that shadow of a man. It was the painting she’d redone because she wasn’t happy with the colors.

Funny, they seemed perfect to her now.

“I’m going to give this one to Rachel.” Jen had decided that Rachel needed a baby gift from her. Callie said Rachel had been inundated with baby clothes, and Max and Rye had purchased every safety item known to man. Maybe Rachel would enjoy something to brighten the house. “I missed her shower. This has to be better than what Nell gave her.”

Nell and Henry had given her a gift certificate to offset the baby’s carbon footprint for the first year of life. Nell had purportedly explained that Rachel was on her own after that and had given her a lecture on green diapering practices.

“I think she’ll love it,” Stef said with an indulgent smile on his face.

A sense of satisfaction poured over her. Maybe if she told him more about her sales, he would see that she was really concentrating on her work. “And, who knows, maybe it’ll be worth a lot someday. I got five thousand for the three I sold. Let me tell you, that came in handy.”

Stef’s face got a bright, brilliant red. “That fucker. I swear if he wasn’t already dead, I would kill him myself.” Jen turned to him. “What are you talking about? Who’s dead?” Stef stopped, a red flush spreading across his face. “Renard. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you until now.”

“Whoa.” She didn’t like the man, but she was surprised he was dead. He’d been a halfway decent mentor until he’d thrown her in jail.

A chill went through her. “Is it over the painting?” Stef nodded and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Probably. The police found his body yesterday. They think he was involved in a drug deal gone bad. He was apparently paying for some cocaine with the painting. I don’t want you to worry. You’re safe here.”

As she had no idea where the painting was, she wasn’t terribly worried. But something else struck her. “Why are you upset that Renard sold my paintings?”

Stef sputtered, his normal grace deserting him as he seemed to realize he’d made a mistake. “Nothing. I was just surprised.” Her smile slipped away completely. “You bought them.”

It felt like a crushing defeat. She’d gone about in a haze after the sale of the first one. After the second two, a confidence had settled over her. Now that was stripped away. She hadn’t really accomplished anything. Stef had merely stepped in and played god again. Deus ex machina. That described Stef. He played god and then left her alone again.

She slid the painting back into the crate. “Maybe I’ll just get her something else.”

“Jennifer.” He strode across the space between them, filling her senses. “It was the only way I knew to take care of you. And I paid way more than five thousand. I gave him twenty because I wanted you to be okay. I wanted you to have the things you needed.” Those damn tears were back. She fought hard not to shed them.

She crossed her hands over her chest. “I needed you, Stef. You weren’t about to give me that. You won’t give me that now, either, will you? You’ll follow me across the country and pay way too much for paintings no one gives a damn about. You’ll move heaven and earth to get me out of jail, and you’ll toss me over a desk when you get a little horny, but you won’t tell me you love me.” His jaw hardened. “Jennifer, don’t make more of last night than there was. And don’t make more of our relationship. I’m attracted to you. You’re submissive, and I’m a Dom. It’s inevitable that we would be together when we’re living so close together. But this is a D/s partnership, not a love affair.”

A weariness stole over her. Could she really fight him? How long and hard would he fight before he got over his fear? Maybe he wouldn’t ever get over it. He loved her. She felt it, but it didn’t matter if he never accepted it. It didn’t matter if she wasn’t good enough to risk his heart for. “Fine. It’s just sex. Got it.” He sighed, the hardness flitting away. “Jennifer, does it have to be like this? Can’t we be friends? I like you. I think you’re an amazing artist. I think you have a bright future, if you concentrate. You don’t have to be stuck here. You could be in New York selling in galleries.”

He was always pointing out the future he thought she should have.

He didn’t ask her opinion. He merely stated what he considered the best possible future for her and pushed her to take it.

“Great, I’ll look forward to it,” she said, stepping away from him.

He really did treat her like a child. He’d told her he wouldn’t mentor her then did it at every opportunity with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. It didn’t matter that she didn’t want to go to New York. It didn’t matter that she could see herself being perfectly happy selling her stuff to the tourists who came through Bliss. Stef had decided what her future should be, and he wouldn’t let a little thing like the fact that she loved him mess that up.

His dark hair was shaking slightly. It was just the tiniest bit overgrown, curling a little around his ears. He was so masculine compared to the metro guys she’d been around in Dallas. “I wish I could help you settle in, but I have to meet Rye. I have to help him set up the pony rides for the kids. And I should probably take a shower. If you need anything, talk to Mrs. Truss. If you’re hungry, there’s probably a little buffet set up since we have so many guests. When I get back, we’ll talk, okay? Maybe later I’ll take you into town. Would you like that?”

“Sure,” she forced herself to say.

He ruffled her hair like he would a kid. There was an affectionate smile on his face, like he’d never tied her up and forced his dick inside her body. He turned and walked out.

Jen shivered and wished she’d put on a robe. He’d taken all the warmth with him.

She looked around the gorgeous studio and saw it for what it was—a pretty little cage. He would keep her here, and then he didn’t have to deal with her in any way he didn’t control.

And he’d been in control the whole time. Even when she was away from him, he’d pulled the strings. He’d watched her and bought her paintings and stepped in the minute she got in trouble. He’d hauled her home, and now he’d detailed the terms of the relationship.

She was perfectly free to love him with all her heart as long as she obeyed him in the bedroom and understood he wouldn’t acknowledge that he loved her back.

Screw that.

She would do the bedroom stuff, but he was already going back on his promise to not dominate her outside of sex. Her gilded cage was proof of that.

“Stefan?” a voice called.

Jen turned to see the door to the studio opening. Sebastian Talbot stepped in looking very dapper in wool slacks and what Jen suspected was a cashmere sweater. The elder Talbot was a lovely man. His hair had gone to silver, but she could tell where Stef had gotten his looks.

Of course, just like the younger Talbot, this one had problems with her, too.

“He isn’t here, Mr. Talbot. He’s cleaning up, and then he’s going to help out at the Winter Festival.”

Sebastian’s hand rubbed at the back of his neck in a sign of obvious frustration. “He told me I should stay in, as well, right after giving me a list of things to do. I don’t remember him being this bossy.”

Jen snorted as she picked up the canvas. She should repack it. She wasn’t going to work for a while. “You haven’t been around him much. He’s the bossiest person I’ve ever met.” Sebastian’s face fell a bit, but he took a breath and gave her a tight smile. “Yes, I suppose you could say that. He also knows how to find talent. That work is lovely. Truly beautiful. The colors are amazing.