But he doesn’t want my love.
Was he right about her? Did she imagine love when it was really only need? Maybe. She dried off. She didn’t feel needy. Well, perhaps a little.
A pair of her jeans, underwear, and a tank top lay on the towel bar. Apparently Master R had decided she could wear clothes today. Her hand hesitated over the clothing. Today—or every day now? Her job was done, wasn’t it? The entire charade had been to get Sam referred during the Overseer’s follow-up visit.
Even if Sam failed and Master R had to attend the auction, he’d use an FBI agent as his submissive. Not me.
Her relief was balanced by the ugly vision of Master R with another woman. Would he spank the submissive? Make her come? Of course he would. The flood of sheer jealousy appalled her. God, I need to get out of here.
When she entered the kitchen a few minutes later, Master R sat on a bar stool at the island, newspapers and coffee before him. She started to speak, then saw the phone he held to his ear.
“That’s right,” he was saying. “Sam said Dahmer called a few minutes ago. His background check passed, and he should get an invitation to the auction sometime this week.”
That meant the job was done. Kim hugged herself, trying to process her emotions. After her first scuba dive, she’d hauled herself up the boat’s steps, shucked off the heavy air tank, and dropped the belt with twenty pounds of lead weights. She’d felt as if she might float away. Very much like now. My part is over.
Master R listened and then grinned. “Yes, he put on quite a show. Had one of the better screamers.” He glanced at her, his eyes shadowed but approving. “Kimberly did her job perfectly.”
A glow sparked to life and was snuffed out with his next words. “Since Sam is accepted, I think she should move to Gabi’s house.”
Kim stared at him. A slap in the face wouldn’t have hurt as much. What had she done wrong?
“No, she didn’t do anything wrong. But keeping her in a Master/slave relationship as she recovers from being kidnapped would be foolish. She’s getting dependent on me, Kouros.” He met her eyes squarely, not trying to hide anything.
Anger started to overtake the pain. Yes, she could hate him.
“No, she doesn’t need to stay here. Her job is finished. Even if Sam’s invitation falls through, I’d use one of your people for the demo, not Kimberly. I would never take her to a slave auction. We discussed this already.” His eyes turned cold. “Send her to Gabi’s. She’s done enough.”
Good to know. Trying not to scowl, Kim poured herself some coffee.
Master R straightened suddenly. “When was this?”
The sharpness in his voice made Kim jump, and she hissed as coffee scalded her fingers. She set the cup down hastily, shaking her hand. Ouch.
“Kimberly!” Master R pointed to the faucet.
She hesitated. But I want to hear. Caving in, she ran the cold water over her reddened fingers. Over the noise of the water, she heard him say, “I’m putting you on speaker. She has a right to know.” He set the phone on the island.
Know what?
“You’re a stubborn bastard, Sandoval,” came a man’s sonorous voice with the broadened A sound of someone from Maine. “Miss Moore, I was telling your master why I don’t want you to return to Gabi’s house.”
She swallowed. I don’t know this man. “Why?”
“I don’t know if Raoul ever told you, but we planted surveillance devices around the neighborhood. A simple precaution to keep you safe.”
Her jaw dropped, and she stared at the walls. What had they seen?
“No, gatita,” Master R said. “They’re only outside—the front and sides of the house, and one on the patio pointing toward the beach.”
The FBI agent snorted. “He wouldn’t permit anything else. We’ve spotted a few people watching your house since Raoul bought you. Very casual. But earlier today, a private investigator checked you out and took pictures.”
Kim wrapped her arms around herself, a chill running through her. The outside world wasn’t safe. She already knew that.
“With the prior surveillance they did, they’d know you spend a lot of time outside. If you suddenly disappear, but Raoul is still in the house, they’d wonder why.”
Watching the house. Ice crawled up her spine. “What if they try to take me back?” God, that was stupid. They wouldn’t steal from their own buyer.
“Kidnapping a slave they’d sold wouldn’t be good for business.” The FBI agent paused. “If it helps your worries, though, the neighborhood is well policed and has a neighborhood watch. Raoul has a hell of a security system on both the house and grounds, much better than the one at Marcus’s place. Nobody in their right minds would try to breech it.”
Master R gave her a small smile and whispered, “I grew up on the streets, remember?”
Huh. She’d seen him making the rounds before bed, checking on stuff, and hadn’t bothered to ask why. So she was safe here. But to stay?
Master R remained silent, obviously giving her the choice. I hate making decisions. She wanted to go to Gabi’s…yet even if he didn’t care for her, she wanted to be with him.
With an effort, she pushed her personal baggage to the side. Her wishes were irrelevant. No matter what she felt, she mustn’t do anything to cause suspicions and blow the investigation. “I guess I’ll be here for another few days.”
“Thank you, Miss Moore. I look forward to meeting you later this week.”
With a low curse, Master R slid the phone shut; then his eyes narrowed on her. “Will you be all right with this?”
I might never be right again. “Of course.” She winced when his brows drew together. Telling the complete truth surely sucked at times. “All right, it’s difficult, being so unsettled. I want to go home and get on with my life. See my mom.” Stay with you. Run from you. Love you.
“Of course.” He took a sip of his coffee, and the release of his intent gaze was like escaping a riptide. “You must miss your mamá very much.”
His voice held a wealth of understanding, and the tenderness with which he’d said “mamá” told her a lot. And left more unexplained. She frowned. “I thought your family lived in Tampa. Did you tell them not to visit?”
His mouth tightened. “We do not…speak.”
“How come?”
“They don’t approve of my BDSM lifestyle. At all. When they found out… They’d probably have reacted better if I’d been gay.” He rubbed his face. He might have thought his expression unreadable, but it wasn’t. Being alienated from his family hurt him.
“I’m sorry.” He was so loving. To have his family push him away must have been terrible.
“It’s not your problem, gatita.”
“I s’pose not.” She watched the coffee in her cup, making the black liquid swirl in circles. Like my life. He said she shouldn’t be in a Master/slave relationship, and that she’d become dependent on him. Maybe he was right. “Master R?”
He tilted his head. “Yes?”
“Can we live together as…as friends? No more of the master—sumisita stuff?
His frown cleared. “We can. It’s a good plan.” He tapped his fingers on his papers and then looked at her again. “You may have the guest bedroom as before.”
No more being wrapped in his arms at night? The kitchen seemed to darken. “Great. I’ll go move my stuff.”
Her knees held up nicely all the way to Master’s—no, Raoul’s—bedroom. She bundled together the clothing Gabi had given her and left the French maid’s costume in the closet for him to return to Z. After tossing everything on the bed in the guest room, she went back for her toiletries.
She turned her eyes away from the shower, refusing to remember how his big hands felt moving over her soap-slicked body. Warm and firm. No. One more week; then it was over. She’d go home and…do what? Aside from wanting to see her mom, she’d never thought about after that.
Her knees went weak, and she leaned on the counter, staring at herself in the mirror. I should want to go home. To take up my life again. Her friends would be overjoyed at her return.
Had her position at the marine lab been filled? Probably not—admin moved slowly. She’d go see them first thing and… A chill ran through her. What if she stepped out of the office or her house and…they took her again? I have to go back to work. No choice. She’d manage. She always did.
But she’d be so far from Tampa. How could she stand each day without Master R in it?
Her hands clenched. Getting a little dependent, missy? Or a little in love? Her inner cynic was so sarcastic that if it’d been a person, she’d have slapped its face. Because the answer to both questions was yes.
He…lifted her heart. She wanted to take care of him, put that special smile on his face, be there for him the way he’d been here for her. And why not? He obviously cared for her. He did.
Only…he hadn’t exactly said “I love you” back to her.
Even if he did, they had differing goals. He was a master, and eventually he’d want a real slave, not a pretender. Cold seeped like a chill morning fog into her bones.