Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Coffee cup in hand, Drake walked out onto his back deck to watch the sunrise over the Cascades. It still amused him that his condo in Seattle looked out over the Sound toward Bainbridge Island, and the view from here at his Bainbridge home was toward the city.
Tossing a blanket over the slightly damp chair, he settled at the table. To the south was the ferry terminal and downtown Winslow. Directly east, the Cascade Mountains served as a backdrop for the Seattle skyline. Slowly, the sunlight turned the gray water of the Sound to a molten gold.
Did Ray get up to enjoy sunrises? Admittedly, five-thirty was rather early.
George’s WoodSong house in the forest had a fair view of the Sound—although not as fine as this one. George had preferred forest to beach. He’d been all about the wood.
Did his lovely protégé feel the same?
Such an intriguing woman. Energetic, emotional, expressive. When she was excited, her words ran together, and her hands waved in the air. She reminded him of the way sunlight danced on rippling water.
He took a sip of his coffee, thinking of yesterday. The interaction between her and Theodore Prescott had been…ugly. Apparently, Prescott wanted the relationship to resume, despite his disparaging comments about Ray’s behavior.
The bastard should be grateful Ray had rallied and sent him packing. Drake had been only seconds from rudely interrupting to handle things his way. But she had done quite well.
However, it was doubtful Prescott was the Dom who’d caused Ray’s PTSD. He’d struck at her self-confidence, but she’d shown nothing like her fear when they’d spoken of Tops ignoring limits. Or about bondage.
It would be good to find out exactly what happened to her. To do what he could to help her past those fears.
Leaning back, he sipped his espresso. It was a good blend. Rich, flavorful, with a touch of creamy sweetness to smooth the slight bitterness.
Below, the ferry made its stately, slow progress over the Sound to Seattle, escorted by a few hopeful gulls.
No harm in being hopeful. He had his own hopes, after all. Like to get a chance to explore the chemistry between him and Aralia. To talk with her, to make her laugh. She had a hearty laugh—and sometimes, the most infectious giggles.
Damned if she didn’t have him reconsidering his no-relationship stance. She was nothing like…well, anyone he’d been with before.
However, if she wasn’t interested, he’d step away. Consent mattered.
Since she’d signed up as a volunteer at Chains, there would be time to talk with her at the club. It’d be good to show her there were honorable Doms in the world, ones who didn’t ignore a submissive’s boundaries.
And he’d do his best to be worthy of her trust.