Charlie steadied herself on the wall beside her, seemingly unable to move forward while the face of the man she recognized turned in her direction as if he sensed her watching him.

Dressed in a tailored suit, he looked like anyone else waiting for a table, but Charlie knew better. After a few seconds, his face twisted into a smile as recognition dawned. He remembered her. After four years of looking over her shoulder, never knowing when she might see him again, she had come to believe she never would. He was a ghost, a memory so excruciating that Charlie had spent years trying to convince herself that he had never existed. Yet here he was, a living nightmare come back to haunt her. Charlie vaguely remembered hearing Declan call her name before he was at her side, taking her by the arm. He came into focus and she tried in vain to mask the fear that plagued her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his face lined with concern.

“Nothing.” Charlie caught his hand, pulling him into the open elevator.

***

Returning to the warmth of Declan’s new home, Charlie made herself at home at the bar. She filled a lowball glass to the brim with ice and some amber liquor from one of the bottles in Declan’s collection. Charlie sank into the sofa and pressed the cool glass against her forehead, trying to freeze out the frenzied thoughts that had taken over. She wanted to banish them, to forget they ever existed. She wanted to wash them away. Charlie took a gulp from her glass to hasten them on their journey.

She shouldn’t be here, but she couldn’t be alone right now. Charlie needed a distraction, and she knew Declan would provide just that. He sat next to her on the sofa and took the glass from her hand.

“Talk to me please,” Declan said.

Charlie stared past him, giving him nothing. Sharing all of her past with Declan wasn’t something she was ready to do. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“That’s bullshit and we both know it. You looked like you’d witnessed a crime earlier.”

“I was remembering one.” Charlie regretted those words the moment she spoke them.

Her body tensed with a new sort of fear. Declan would never look at her in the same light again once he knew the truth.

Silent, he waited for Charlie to continue. She picked the glass up from the table and forced the rest of the drink down, praying for the relief it promised. How could I possibly explain how naïve I’d been? How could I explain that the man I spotted tonight took my submission and turned it into something ugly and painful?

“I’m broken. I’m no good for you, for anyone.”

“Stop.” The authoritative sting in his voice gave Charlie some pause.

“Stop, what?”

“You aren’t broken, Charlotte.”

Charlie swallowed hard, wishing she could believe him. “I’m just stating the obvious. It makes zero sense for you to want to be with someone … like me. Anyway, you should be dating a political princess or some model, not me.”

“How many times do I need to state this? I’m only interested in you.”

“It’s crazy. Look at me. I’m a mess.”

“I do. Every moment I can get, actually. You’ve been driving me crazy lately. I can barely sleep at night.”

“And now?”

“Now I have you. No wedding whacko sister. No guy-crazy coworkers. And you’re trying to come up with every reason to scare me off. If you think this changes anything, you’re quite mistaken.”

Charlie looked away, helplessly fighting the onslaught of fresh tears. When Declan pulled her onto his lap, she went willingly, wanting to feel him close again. He wrapped her in a tight embrace, cocooning her in arms, close to his chest.

“You’re an incredible woman.”

“How can you say that?”

“For starters, because it’s the truth. Charlotte, one horrible experience doesn’t define who you are. If it did, I doubt you’d want to be with me either.”

“But, I do.” Charlie’s hand slid over his shirt to feel his heart’s slow, steady rhythm. Suddenly her feelings for Declan began to overwhelm the powerful memories from her past.

He lifted her hand and brushed his lips across her fingertips. Inch by inch, he caressed her with a quiet tenderness until the numbness melted and gave way to a warmth simmering below the surface.

His smell, his taste, his hunger—Charlie craved them all. She was ravenous for him. Declan shifted her so she straddled him, melding their bodies together. A hushed whimper escaped her lips at the contact and fervency of his movements. Then he stopped.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

“I’m wound too tight right now.” He swallowed hard, the notch in his throat bobbing with the action.

Charlie wanted to kiss him there, but first she needed to figure out what was going on. “And I don’t care. I want you.” She wanted him more than ever. She shifted, unable to ignore the growing ache between her thighs.

“God, I want you too, I just don’t want to lose control. I’m afraid I will hurt you.”

“I’m not going to break. I promise.”

She trailed her fingers down Declan’s chest following the path of buttons that disappeared under the band of his pants. She reached for the clasp, but before Charlie could release him, Declan caught her wrists, holding them steady while he breathed hard.

“I want to feel you lose control, Declan.” Her body pulsed. She wanted nothing more than for him to take her the way he wanted to, the way she needed him to.

***

It felt very late or perhaps very early when Charlie opened her eyes. It was still dark and she curled up under the duvet, all restraints gone. The music Declan had playing was off, and he was not in bed next to her. She tried to stretch but found all her muscles stiff. Charlie’s head even hurt a bit as she sat up. The cozy comforter fell away and she glanced around at Declan’s now shadow-filled bedroom. How long have I been sleeping?

It took her a moment to realize Declan was in the room with her. He was sitting in a leather chair, a glass of what she presumed to be scotch cradled in the palm of his right hand as he watched her. There was enough light in the room for Charlie to discern that he was wearing an unbuttoned dark shirt, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and the sides hanging open to reveal that sexy smattering of dark chest hair. His legs were clad in dark rinse jeans and his feet bare.

She reached for the comforter but thought better of it. He’d already seen her naked on several occasions and he would certainly not approve of her hiding her body from view, not after all their intimate moments together. “How long have I been asleep, Master?”

“Not long, my pet. Perhaps an hour or two.” He took a drink from his glass. “Did you nap well?”

“Yes, Master.” She wasn’t about to admit that she was sore. She wanted to play some more.

“We’ll take a shower later.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow. “We?” I could go for that. She could feel his gaze drop to her chest, and her nipples hardened instantly. Declan smirked when she gasped. He took another slow sip from his drink before setting it aside and rising from his chair.

“I’d like to try something with you before we shower. Are you up for it?”

She watched him cross over to the closet and placed his hand on whatever hid underneath the blanket in front of it. Charlie swallowed hard. It could be my best wet dream come to life or my worst nightmare. She reminded herself that Declan promised he wouldn’t hurt her. “Yes, Master.”

He glanced back at her over his shoulder. “Good girl.”

Whatever the blanket concealed, it was something on wheels. He moved it easily to the end of the bed so it was perpendicular between the footboard and the seating area. He pressed his foot on something, as though he was locking brakes into place.