Cherise Sinclair - The Dom’s Dungeon

So. He'd shaken her up a bit. She shook her head and attempted a laugh through the tightness in her throat. A bit? He'd scared the shit out of her, made her sick, and now Alex probably wondered if she didn't have a screw loose. But hey, she'd turned the bastard down and gotten away. She deserved a major award for not having a hysterical crying fit right there in the ballroom.

But really, Dickerson couldn't do her any harm. And if, God forbid, she ran into him again, she'd be a lot smoother about blowing him off. Her lips curled at the phrase. Not blowing him, but blowing him off. Heh-heh.

That's sick, Mac. She shook her head and grinned. But okay, then. I'm staying here.

She took a bite of her sandwich. Tuna on sourdough and filled with so many veggies, she had to squish it to get her mouth around it.

Next problem. The BDSM stuff. Her body warmed as she remembered last night and how Alex had controlled her, stripped her, taken her…and held her. His voice, his hands, just his sheer authority, had kept her from any real protest.

Being taken over like that was pretty scary…and pretty cool. Having Alex in control meant she didn't need to be. Didn't need to think, didn't need to worry about what to do or if she performed adequately; he'd make sure she did what he wanted. Something about that kind of mastery seemed to turn her head off and let her body just feel—at least so far. So BDSM stuff could go into the “explore further” category.

What about Alex? Just as the thought of the other man had made her sick, the thought of Alex sent warmth through her and gave her a little flutter in her stomach. Setting the sandwich down, she pulled in a breath. Really, Alex was far scarier than the BDSM stuff. Everything he did pulled her closer, bound her to him.

She wasn't exactly fighting getting closer. Beyond just the sex, she liked him as a person, liked his commitment to the little companies he helped start and to the animals he considered in his care. His friends were diverse and honorable and fun, and that said a lot about Alex right there. He had a temper—she remembered his face when Steel had almost hit her—but he controlled it and not the reverse. Majorly bossy…and protective and caring.

She pressed a hand to her stomach. Frak, the man had sucked her right into caring for him.

Before they'd become lovers, she'd known she liked him more than was wise. And the liking had deepened when she gave herself to him.

He could hurt me badly.

She rubbed her hands over her face and sighed. But what in life doesn't hurt? Losing Jim and Mary had devastated her, but even if she'd known what would happen, she wouldn't have given up her time with them. Taking care of animals had taught her that. To live without the little fur balls was unthinkable, even when you knew their lives were so much shorter than your own.

And so it would be with Alex. He didn't want a real relationship. He was ritzy and rich and way out of her class. So she already knew the ending to this journey. But being with him was worth it.

She'd walk the path until she reached the end.

Alex jotted down another note. If the bookstore added some—The phone rang. He reached across his desk and picked it up. “Fontaine.” Maybe specializing in—

“Excuse me.” A tenor voice. “I was given this number to contact MacKensie Taylor.”

Alex glanced at the caller ID and paused. A Midwest area code. Oak Hollow Veterinary Clinic. Well, now… “This is where she's staying,” he said. “Did she used to work with you?”

“Well, no. Yes.” The man gave an exasperated laugh. “She worked for Jim, the previous owner of the clinic, and came in to help out now and then when I got overloaded. Can I leave a message for her?”

“Of course.”

“My name is Brent Goodwin. I have a check for the days she worked last month. I need to know if she wants me to mail it there or hold on to it for her.” Brent hesitated. “Do you know if she's planning to return to Oak Hollow?”

How much snooping could be justified under the Dom/sub relationship? Definitely more. Alex leaned back in the chair, his eyes on the ceiling. How to finesse some information from an innocent vet? “I got the impression that she felt relieved to be able to leave…after Jim's death,” he said delicately. Dammit, was Jim a lover or just a—

Brent sighed. “Yeah, she was pretty happy to get out of here. Poor girl. She spent half a year buried in that house taking care of the old guy as he withered away to nothing. Anyway, I figure she might need this check, so if—”

“She does seem oddly short of cash for a vet,” Alex interrupted. “Did she run up a gambling debt or something?” He grinned at the sputter of outrage on the other end of the line. People from small towns weren't nearly suspicious enough.

“MacKensie stepped in to help Jim with his medical bills. And then near the end, he couldn't be left alone, so Mac hired someone to stay with him when she needed to get groceries or pick up prescriptions. We would have helped, but if you know her, you know how much pride she has. And she sure wouldn't take a cent from anyone in Oak Hollow.”

Why not, dammit? Alex didn't ask the question. He got the feeling Brent wouldn't share that information. “Well, that's good to know,” he said simply. “I'm relieved my high opinion of her is justified.”

“Damn straight. She's a fine woman, no matter—” Brent huffed a breath. “I've got to go. Tell her to call me, please.” He hung up.

Now that was an interesting conversation. Alex put his feet up on a bare corner of the desk, turning the phone over and over in his hands. Brent considered the little cat generous and loyal. No new information there. And her friend Jim had been old. Alex could feel the tension in his gut ease. She wasn't mourning an old lover, but probably a father substitute.

However, Brent wasn't old, and he wanted her back.

MacKensie didn't want to return. Whatever had happened to her in the past had happened in Oak Hollow. And everyone there knew about it. And had judged her.

Dammit, little cat. How could he help if he didn't know what had happened?

Mac folded her hands in her lap and prepared to be brilliant, charming, and dedicated. Again. If this interview stuff continued much longer, she'd take a nice dive off the horrendously high Aurora Bridge.

Across the desk, Susan Weston grinned. “Don't look like that. We've met before, remember?”

Mac's lips curved. Susan was as high energy, charming, and blunt here at the Weston Animal Hospital as she had been at the ball. “I didn't want to presume upon that introduction,” Mac confessed. “Alex is very kind, but—”

Susan snorted. “Alexander Fontaine can be kind, but he's also a hard-nosed businessman and utterly ruthless when it comes to protecting animals. The fact he introduced you as a vet means he checked your background and found you more than competent. Otherwise he'd never have mentioned your occupation.”

Mac blinked in surprise. Well, yes, she knew Alex had called her references before letting her stay with Butler, but the fact that he might not have introduced her if he didn't consider her competent, and people knew that… Perhaps she didn't know him that well after all.

“You've never seen him in action, have you?” Susan huffed and amended quickly, “I mean, action related to animals. He's actually put two or three vets out of business.”

“Really.” Well, God knew she'd seen his temper.

“Oh yeah.” Sandy smiled. “And seeing you with Butler didn't do you any harm. That dog doesn't fawn over many people. After meeting you, my partners and I kept an eye on you that night. Animals like you.” She spread papers out over the desk. “We, of course, checked your credentials and references. We took a vote this morning, and we'd like you to come to work here.”

Mac's breath stopped.

“If things work out, then we'll talk about buying in and all that.” Susan rose and held out her hand. “Are you interested?”

Do not scream. Do not do happy dance until get home. “I researched you too, and you're at the top of my list.” Mac stood and shook Susan's hand firmly. “I accept.”

“Uh, I don't know… I'm tired and…” Mac's heart rate increased when Alex pushed the dungeon door open and the scent of leather drifted out. The lights in the sconces flickered over the St. Andrew's cross, the benches, the wall of whips and floggers. All that equipment gave an entirely different impression when you had a Dom beside you than when you were just exploring. She shivered as she realized he could and would use all the equipment in here.

Her excuses only caused his grip on her wrist to tighten as he pulled her into the room.

Damn. She should have been warned yesterday when he'd looked up at her and said, “You realize dragging your Dom off to have sex isn't the usual behavior of a submissive, even when celebrating.”

It had been a fine, fine celebration. She shivered a little just remembering how she'd straddled him and ridden him like a cowgirl. Yeah, she might have gotten away with jumping him and being so demanding. He'd enjoyed himself as well, after all.

But then when he'd told her they would attend his mother's supper party, she'd refused. Flat-out refused. And oh boy, apparently he'd make her pay for it today.

Did she really want to let him do this domination stuff? At just the thought, her insides started to melt like ice cream in the sun. Frak, she was so screwed.