Chapter 16 #2
And then he knew what else he should say—because pain or not, he’d never regret a moment he spent with her. “People and animals and plants will leave you, but”—he pulled in a slow breath—“the joy of having them, for however long, is worth the sorrow.”
Muscle by muscle, she relaxed against him. Thinking.
Thinking was good.
Eventually, she pulled in her own deep breath and looked up at him.
“You’re right.” Her smile was rueful. “I hadn’t realized how odd it was to never even consider owning a pet until Mom mentioned it last week.
But to avoid plants as well? That’s just warped.
I guess I really am afraid of being hurt again. ”
“Yeah.” He understood why. Under her cool front of indifference, Anne had the most caring heart in the world. Her parents couldn’t have known how much she’d suffer with each loss, or they’d have been more careful.
She reminded him of a glass knife. Unbelievably sharp, yet frighteningly vulnerable to being shattered. And she brought out every protective instinct he had.
But, as with his teammates, he couldn’t fight her battles. She’d have to evaluate the risks and decide whether or not to advance.
He kissed her lips and felt them tremble. “Seems as if being aware is the highest hurdle. And you’d already started to change. Bronx and I are here, after all.”
Hearing his name, Bronx sat up…in case someone felt the need to administer a few pats.
Anne never turned the furball away—and didn’t now, even as she blinked back tears. Although she poured out her warmth to children and animals, she was more cautious with women—and damned careful with men.
But not with Ben. Not any longer. Her trust was one of the finest victories he’d ever achieved.
With an effort, he relaxed his hold. “While you play with the ropes, how about I make us some supper?”
“Actually, I have chicken marinating.” She smiled and he saw the Domme slide into place. “I’ll cook; you’re assigned cleanup.”
Not exactly a hardship. She cooked far better than he did. “Yes, Ma’am.”
In the living room, he studied the white and pale blue color scheme. Seemed to him as if African violets would look just fine in here.
A couple of hours later, Anne walked out on her deck while Ben cleaned the kitchen. He pretended to hate scrubbing pots and was grumbling away. Unfortunately for him, she knew he was simply putting on a show. Really, the man had it easy. Unlike him, she washed up as she cooked.
In contrast, he could make a complete disaster out of a kitchen.
She smiled. She actually found it satisfying to create order from chaos. Cleaning up didn’t bother her at all…although she’d never shared that information with her slaves.
Her fingers ran over her saxophone as the peace of the twilight washed over her. The setting sun was a brilliant yellow line on the horizon. Resembling miniature rockets, black skimmers flew just above the gilded breakers.
The tide was coming in, and the waves made shushing sounds on the sandy beach.
Lifting her sax, she wetted the reed and tested a wandering set of notes.
With one hip on the railing, she let her internal playlist scroll and found herself playing “As Time Goes By.” Like a soft rain, the notes spilled over her deck and joined with the evening.
A slow song, but not sad. It reminded her that the fundamentals of life, living and loving and dying, held the same from generation to generation.
That life could change for the better.
She was changing, as was her world. Or maybe she should call it growing, rather than changing.
As the tune went into the chorus, she heard Ben say something to Bronx in the kitchen. The dog whined an answer, and Ben’s big laugh rumbled out.
He was quite a guy. He’d been so careful with her this afternoon. Not pushing but not stopping before he’d made his point.
Sometimes his internal strength was a bit disconcerting. All her slaves had wanted her in charge, wanted her to take control of everything. But Ben didn’t need her guidance.
At the same time, he wouldn’t fall apart if she showed any weakness, and because of that, she could relax around him.
But his obstinate need to be tough—to hide any weakness—was a problem. She should have noticed he was having flashbacks. But now she knew, and she could lead him to talk about his past. She’d pamper him up, keep him close, and ensure he got his sleep. He said he slept better at her house. With her.
He liked being with her. The realization was…amazing. Overwhelming.
She felt the same and more. He’d filled her life. Warmed it.
With a slow flourish, she ended the song and started another. One that had been growing in her heart over the past week, with the knowledge, the worry, the awe. “When I Fall in Love.” The music flowed, the ache of her soul merging with the notes.
She’d wanted to run. To push him away. And she hadn’t.
Ben, I love you.
The knowledge was terrifying and wonderful. For a little while yet, she’d savor the gift, and then she’d share.
Light washed out over the deck, and he stood there, filling the doorway as completely as he did her heart. “I was listening to you play.”
His golden-brown eyes held hers as he slowly smiled. “Mistress, may this submissive haul you off to bed?”