One to Keep

Nights in Bliss, Colorado - 3

Sophie Oak

For Rich – I wouldn’t know anything about love and romance without you. It might not be like a romance novel, but every day with you ends in a happy ever after as long as we’re together.

Chapter One

“Let’s go, Waters,” a surprisingly deep voice said. “You have a visitor.”

Jennifer Waters brought her head up quickly and looked at the guard. She’d kept her head down because it seemed the safest way to survive the experience. It had been all right when her cell mates had been a couple of prostitutes. Annie and Roxie had been sweet, if totally underdressed for the February weather. Unfortunately, Annie had turned out to be Andy and Roxie really had a set tucked away in his miniskirt. They’d been taken to the men’s holding cell, and now Jen was left with two drunks and a woman who had already threatened to kill her because she didn’t like brunettes. All in all, a visitor seemed like a good thing.

She got up from her place in the corner and followed the bulky guard. It was quiet this early in the morning, but Jen still felt paranoid. That was what happened when one minute you were an up-and-coming artist and the next the police were hauling you away. It had been a rough twenty-four hours.

“In there.” The guard opened the door to one of the interview rooms, and Jen walked in.

It was a small, dank room. The fluorescent lights gave everything a slightly green cast. There was a metal table bolted to the floor and two chairs. An expensive-looking briefcase sat on the table, and a man paced by the barred window. He turned immediately when the door opened.

“Thank god. I thought they were never going to bring you out.

I’ve been here for three hours.” The man looked to be in his late twenties, maybe early thirties. He was strikingly handsome with dark hair and green eyes. He wore a dark suit and a snowy white shirt. An emerald silk tie matched his eyes.

“Are you the public defender?” Jen asked. It was so reassuring to see someone who didn’t have a gun strapped to his waist.

The door closed behind her. It locked with a telling thud.

Everywhere she’d been for the last twenty-four hours had a locked door. She sat down, her legs shaking.

“Not exactly, but I am your lawyer,” he said, sinking into the seat across from her. “My name is Finn Taylor. Do you know why you were arrested?”

She knew why. The police had been over it about a thousand times. It just didn’t make any sense to her. “I’ve been accused of theft. They think I stole a painting.” A painting worth roughly a half a million dollars, to be exact. She didn’t think she would ever forget that moment when her boss, Jean Claude Renard, led the police back to the office of the prestigious art gallery where Jen had been working for the last five months. Boss, she thought ruefully. Jean Claude had been much more than her boss.

He’d been an experiment to see if she could ever get over…

Jen took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to think about him. She was going to do what she’d been doing her whole life, focus on the here and now. Thinking about Stefan Talbot and everything she’d left behind in Bliss would only make the situation worse.

“Yes,” Finn Taylor’s voice brought her back to reality, “you’ve been accused of grand larceny. Renard is accusing you of stealing a painting from the gallery. It was a painting by Picasso.”

“Yes, I know it well. It was one of his smaller canvases. It was brought in for repair. The owner had a small fire in his home, and there was some smoke damage. Jean Claude is a renowned restorer.” It was one of the reasons she’d been excited to work for him. She’d been in the same room with several masterpieces, so close she could see the brushstrokes. The first few months with him had been a series of wonders. The last had been a nightmare.

The lawyer’s eyebrows quirked up as he flicked open his pen. A perfect white notepad lay in front of him. “Any chance that you know where it is or who might have taken it?” Tears filled her eyes. “No. I walked in yesterday morning, and it was gone. It was in the restoration room the night before. Jean Claude had been working on it. It was almost done.”

“And you have access to that room.”

She forced herself to nod. She’d been over this with the police.

“Yes, I know the code. Jean Claude lets me work in there. It’s a large studio. There’s more than enough room for two easels. I work in there every day. The light is just perfect.” She’d been planning to work yesterday when all hell had broken loose. She’d gotten off the train at her stop in Deep Ellum and made her way to the gallery, feeling light for the first time in a long while.

She’d known how to fix her painting. Renard had told her he might be able to find a buyer for her newest work. It was good, but it wasn’t perfect, she’d decided. She hadn’t gotten the colors just right. She’d stared at that painting for days while the oils dried. Even after they had dried, she’d stared at the painting. After the gallery show the night before, she’d known what it needed. Despite the late hour, she’d stayed and worked. This painting would be perfect, she’d known. It was similar to the first, but this one would be better. This would be the one that broke her out. She’d been thinking of how her last three

works had sold very quickly. She’d been smiling when she entered the gallery because she’d felt like an up-and-coming artist.

She’d never felt quite as alone as she had when they put her in the back of that police car. Her one and only thought had been to call the one man she’d promised she would never call again. Even now she longed for his authoritative presence.

“When was the last time you saw the Picasso?” She sniffled and straightened her back. She was alone in this, and she needed to be strong. “It was there the morning of the gallery show. I assumed he put it in the safe for the show. He wouldn’t leave it lying around. After the gallery show, I stayed late to supervise the cleanup. I went into the restoration room because I wanted to work for a while. Jean Claude said he might be able to sell another painting for me, and I needed the money. I wanted to work fast, though. He said he had someone coming in this morning to look at the work. I thought if I could get it right, maybe the buyer would be impressed. I didn’t want him to see the first one. It’s all right, but the colors weren’t right, you see. There was too much red. I needed something soothing.

Green. I mixed a lovely green. It had some blue tones. Emotional but muted.”

“Okay, so the day before the Picasso was still there. It went into the safe, and you didn’t see it again.” Finn ignored her arty comments, but she was used to that. He was all business. “You didn’t see the painting after the show?”

“No, I didn’t. And I had no idea it was missing. I came in late. I had worked until really late the night before, and then I had to take the first canvas home because Jean Claude hates it when I have two canvases in the restoration room. I wanted the new painting to be waiting for the buyer right there in the middle of the room as though it had a bow on it. The trains had stopped running. I had to walk home lugging that canvas. I can be forgiven for sleeping in a bit, right?

When I walked in yesterday morning the whole gallery was chaotic.

Jean Claude was screaming. The receptionist was crying. He immediately started yelling at me. He says I was the last one to use the code.”

Finn’s lips turned down, and he made a few notes as he spoke.

“Yes, that’s what the security company is saying. They claim they can produce records that show when you entered and when you left. We can’t tell when the safe was last open. It’s manual. Is it true that the code you used on the door was unique to you?” There was the rub, and Jen knew it. “Yes. When I was hired I was interviewed by the security company, and I selected a password. All employees select a code.”

“And no one else knows this code?”

“No. Well, I suppose the security company knows it. And Jean Claude gave me the combo to the safe. He didn’t like hauling stuff around himself.”

Finn’s pen flew across the paper.

“Is that important? I mean, do you think someone from the security firm stole the painting? Or another employee?” A light shrug. “Well, it gives us a place to start. The problem is the security camera in that room was out. The last footage the company has is of you handling the camera.” She felt her whole body flush. “I was told to turn it off.”

“By whom?”

“Jean Claude. He didn’t want the thing beeping while the gallery show was going on. I told him no one could hear it, but he gets very touchy when we have a show going. It’s best to just placate him. I forgot to turn it back on.”

“He claims he never told you to do that.” Yep, that was what the police had said. Jen’s stomach turned.

Why was he lying? The implications scared the crap out of her. Was she being set up? If she was then she had no idea how she would fight it. She had a little money saved up from the sale of her work, but it wouldn’t pay a lawyer for very long. Who were they going to believe?

A respected businessman or an artist who came from the wrong side of the tracks?

“I didn’t do it,” she whispered.

His hand came out and covered hers. “I know you didn’t.” That was not the answer she’d been expecting. It made her wary.

She pulled her hands back. Too many people lately had seemed nice and turned out to be so very cruel. It was a lesson she should have learned early in life. Hell, she had learned it and learned it well. Her time in Bliss had made her forget how fucked up the real world could be.

“And how do you know that?” She sounded rude even to her own ears.

The handsome lawyer didn’t seem to take offense. He smiled, a boyish look on his face. “I have it on the best authority I know. Let’s just say that my partner is very good friends with someone who firmly believes in your innocence. As my partner also happens to be my Dom, I never argue with him. It tends to get me spanked.” He said it with the glow of a man who was well loved, but the word Dom made her heart plunge. It reminded her of everything she’d lost and everything she’d walked away from.

“Who do you work for?”

“My partner is named Julian Lodge. He’s very good friends with—”

“Stefan Talbot.” The name came out of her mouth with a thud. Of all the people in the world she didn’t want to know about her current situation, he was number one. Her shame washed over her like a scalding bath. She’d always meant to go back to Bliss someday. She’d dreamed of confronting the man she’d loved, but in her dreams she always returned as a successful, wealthy artist. In her fantasies, she had a man on her arm so Stef wouldn’t think she’d spent years pining over him. Never once did she think he’d have to bail her out of jail.

“How did he know?” She hadn’t called or talked to anyone in Bliss since the morning she left. It had been hard, but it was the only way to go. She’d cut her ties and moved on just like her mother had taught her. Keep moving. It was the only way to live. Staying too long in Bliss had tripped her up. It had caused her to do the stupidest thing of all—fall in love.

For the first time, Finn looked slightly uncomfortable. “I think it’s best that you take that up with Mr. Talbot.”

“Just tell me. I can handle it.” It was a lie, but one that came easily to her. She’d spent a good portion of her life handling things she shouldn’t have.

“Uhm, I believe Mr. Talbot hired a private investigator to find you. Once he tracked you to Dallas, he contacted my partner, and Julian kept track of you. Julian has some very interesting contacts.

When he was told you had been arrested, he immediately called Mr.

Talbot and got in contact with the district attorney. Your arraignment has been scheduled. Mr. Lodge will pay your bail, and you’ll be released to his custody.”

“Doesn’t a judge have to decide that?” A smirk crossed the lawyer’s face. “Mr. Lodge can be persuasive when he wants to be. Trust me, I’ll have you out of here in a few hours. I’ll take the lead on your case, but I’ll consult with the best criminal defense attorneys. I already have a private firm researching Renard. If he’s behind this, we’ll string his ass up. I promise, it’s going to be okay.”

“Why would he lie?”

“My guess? He knows more than he’s telling us. That painting is very expensive. Maybe he’s selling it on the black market.” Jen shook her head. “Why that one? We had a Dutch master in the studio last month. It was worth millions. Before that he worked on restoring a Renaissance painting that’s considered priceless. It doesn’t make any sense. He can’t get more than a half a million for that one on the black market, if he can sell it at all.”

“A half a million is more than enough to tempt a lot of people. It’s a lot of motive.”

“He’s independently wealthy.” At least, as far as Jen knew, he was. His house was in the best part of Dallas. He drove a Jag.

“I’ll have someone look into his finances.” He glanced down at his watch. “It shouldn’t be long now. When we get the judge to release you, I’ll personally take you to your place so you can pick up some things.”

“Why do I need to pick up my things?” The door to the office opened, and Jen looked up in shock.

“Don’t worry about your things. You won’t be going back to your apartment, Jennifer.” Stefan Talbot stood in the doorway. He was lean and tall. His suit was immaculate, but his black hair fell over his eyes.

The slight messiness did nothing to distract from his overwhelming presence.

Jen got to her very shaky feet. The need to throw herself in his arms was almost overwhelming. He was solid and seemed like the safest thing she’d seen in forever. It was an illusion. Stef Talbot was dangerous. He’d already broken her heart once. Damn if she was going to give him a second shot at it. Before she could manage to speak, he was walking into the room, making a straight line toward her.

“Everything’s been arranged, Finn. The paperwork is done. Julian can work miracles when he wants to. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this. We’ll be in close contact as this matter moves forward. I’ve left notes with your secretary on how I want to proceed.

The first thing I want is every bit of information you can dig up on that fucker Renard.”

“Excellent.” Finn Taylor was the only one in the room who looked satisfied. He stood and collected his things. “I already have a team working on Renard. We’ll know something soon, Sir.” That Sir grated on Jen’s nerves. So did the deferential way Finn Taylor nodded at Stef. It was more than the polite acknowledgement of a lawyer to his client. Finn wasn’t being polite to his client. He was honoring a Dom.

“Your work is impeccable, Finn. You honor your Master. Tell Julian I’ll be in touch with him.” He turned back to Jen. “Let’s move, Jennifer. I have a plane ready. We need to be at Love Field in an hour.

I have a guard waiting to process you out.” Jen’s head whirled. “Plane?”

“Yes, plane. We’re going back to Bliss.”

“Bullshit.”

Cool, gray eyes slitted, and she could practically feel the will rolling off him. Stef was tense, and Jen knew it was a bad idea to push him, but she couldn’t help it.

“I’m serious, Stef. I’m not going anywhere with you.” She heard the will in her voice. She couldn’t go back to Bliss. Panic threatened to swamp her. He was here. He was right here in front of her, and her heart didn’t give a damn that he was a bastard. For the first time in months, she felt desire for something besides her art. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, go down that path again.

He got into her space, a move he’d perfected seemingly long before he met her. Jen held her ground. Even though he didn’t touch her physically, he seemed to surround her. Suddenly her whole world was Stef, his gray eyes, the heat of his body, his masculine, clean scent. He filled her every sense.

“I’m not going home with you.” She forced herself to say the words.

His lips hitched up. “At least you admit Bliss is your home.” That wasn’t what she’d meant. Bliss, Colorado, had felt like home when she’d been there, but she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Bliss wasn’t big enough for the two of them. “It’s your home. Hell, Stef, it’s your little kingdom, and you like to play the king, don’t you?”

“Yes, because everyone does what I say.” Stef’s low growl made her breath speed up. “Everyone in Bliss just bows down to me. Have you really been gone for so long that you forget Max regularly kicks my ass? And Nell and Henry are currently protesting my gardening practices.”

He was too close for comfort. She gave in and took a step back.

She could see plainly that he was satisfied with her discomfort.

“Don’t try to play the poor little rich boy with me, Stef. You’re a puppet master. You like to pull the strings and see how people dance.

Well, I’m not in your kingdom anymore, and there’s no way you can get me there again. So you can take your money and go back to Colorado.”

It was stupid. Even as she said the words, she wanted to take them back. She had spent the last twenty-four hours terrified in a jail cell.

She would have to be the stupidest woman in the world to turn him down, but she’d never thought around Stef. Since the moment she’d met him, she’d been a quivering mass of emotion and desire every time he entered a room.

“Stubborn thing. I’ll make it easy on you.” His hands caught hers, and before she could think she felt cold metal surrounding her wrists.

He flicked the cuffs on with the cool precision of a man who often cuffed the women in his life.

“What are you doing?” Jen stared at her hands. At least this time they were in front of her. She preferred it that way. Damn, her life had taken a wrong turn when she could compare and contrast her experiences with men who handcuffed her.

“Taking you home, Jennifer. Whether you like it or not.” He leaned down and picked her up. She was in his arms, nestled close to his chest. She looked up at the square, inflexible line of his jaw. His arms tightened around her, and she was caged more closely than she’d been in the holding cell. She had the suspicion that this time Stef would be harder to escape from than before. He kicked open the door and started down the hall.

Yep, like it or not, she was going back to Bliss.

Chapter Two

Stefan Talbot kicked open the door to the interrogation room and strode down the hall. Jen’s slender body finally relaxed in his arms as she obviously figured out he wasn’t letting her go. He stared straight ahead, unwilling to look down at her. If he looked at her he might falter, and he couldn’t risk it. Six months, and all he’d had was a bunch of photos taken by a private investigator. He’d stared at them every day. It made him feel like a complete pervert every time he looked at them. Luckily, he was comfortable with his perversity since he couldn’t seem to help himself.

Trouble. She’d always been trouble. When he’d met her two years before, his first thought was to run for the hills. No. That hadn’t been his first thought at all. His first thought had been to snap a collar on her and chain her to his side. He’d decided to run for the hills when he’d come to his senses.

“Why are you doing this?” Her voice was quiet, almost as though she was asking herself the question, or didn’t really want to know the answer.

He stopped right there in the middle of the bustling hall and finally looked down at her face. Golden brown hair and large green eyes stared up at him. Her skin was like porcelain, but there was a smattering of freckles that crossed her nose and made him want to run his lips across her face to kiss each and every one. Why? Why did it have to be this woman?

“Because you need me.” He kept his answer short. If he didn’t, he would end up a blathering idiot.

There was a sheen of tears in her eyes that told Stef he’d fucked up. He always managed to with her. He was a Dom of the first order, known for taking care of his subs, but he fumbled the minute she batted those eyes at him. There was nothing to do about it now. He simply continued down the hall. He would fix her when they got back to Bliss.

Now that he thought about it, he should have expected this greeting. The entire plane trip here, he’d had all sorts of fantasies about being her hero. In his fantasies, she’d cried prettily and thrown herself into his arms. He’d gotten her out of this current scrape and then protected her. He’d set her up in a nice studio in Bliss, and she’d be waiting for him when she was old enough to know what she wanted.

Twenty-three . She was fucking twenty-three years old. He was a thirty-two-year-old man in love with a girl barely out of college. She had no idea who she was, and she’d proven it by running away. She was just a kid, and he’d done all sorts of nasty, dirty, glorious things to her.

Maybe he wasn’t so comfortable with his perversity.

He turned down the main hall. Nate Wright, his old friend and the current sheriff of Bliss, Colorado, stood talking to the district attorney and the chief of police. Lucky for him both men belonged to a very private BDSM club and both wanted to be in the debt of very wealthy men. They had streamlined the process of getting Jennifer out on bond, going so far as to wake a judge to do the paperwork. It wasn’t exactly procedure, but otherwise, Jen would still have hours in a cell, and he couldn’t even consider that.

“Damn, I hope I can keep the press off this.” The chief shook his head as he signed the paperwork releasing Jennifer Waters to the custody of Stef and Sheriff Wright.

The DA seemed much more comfortable. “The girl’s never been in trouble before. It’s unusual, but we’re releasing her to law enforcement. Besides, I don’t know if I buy Renard’s story. He’s a shady fellow. If she stole the painting, then where is it? We’ve searched her place.”

Jen’s head came up. “You did?”

Nate never looked up from the paperwork he was now signing.

“They didn’t find anything beyond your own work, and this afternoon the whole thing is being packed up and moved to Bliss. Stef packed your work himself this morning while we were waiting on the judge.”

“I’ll make sure all of your work gets back home,” Stef said. He hadn’t been able to get her latest work out, but it appeared she had just finished it, possibly the night before her arrest. The oil was still wet. Renard, the fucker, had refused to release it, and no amount of intimidation had worked on him. At least the work in her apartment was properly packed and readied for transit.

Her lips turned down, and she held her hands up for all to see.

“And do you intend to keep me cuffed during my stay?” He’d love to. He’d love to bind her arms and legs and keep her tied to his bed. He’d let her out to paint. It was important, and she was far too talented to ignore, but other than that, she would be constantly spread for his pleasure. He shifted uncomfortably. His cock was hard as a rock.

Nate’s eyes went straight to the handcuffs around Jen’s wrists.

“Was that really necessary, Stef?”

“She was being uncooperative.”

“And he was being an asshole,” Jen shot back.

At least she was getting her spirit back. It made Stef very happy that she was starting to fight again. He’d watched her in the interview room while she spoke to Finn Taylor, and everything about her had seemed dimmer than normal. Her eyes had been dull and downcast, her shoulders slumped. Now there was fire in them again, and it gave him hope.

“No surprise there. He’s been a complete asshole for six months now,” Nate complained. He settled his hat on his head and looked every inch the small-town sheriff he was. “He’s giving Max a run for his money. I swear if I catch the two of them pounding on each other again, I’m going to put them both in lockup.” Stef set her on her feet and hoped he didn’t have to chase her down. She immediately walked to Nate, holding out her cuffed hands in greeting.

“It’s good to see you, Sheriff. How are Callie and Zane?” Jen’s face shone as she looked up at the sheriff.

She hadn’t smiled once at him.

“They’re fine. Zane opened a bar, and now he’s got Callie hopping. I had to hire a new admin because Callie’s having so much fun learning to bartend,” Nate explained. His face went a little bit hard. “She’s looking forward to seeing you again, Jen. She missed you.”

Jen flushed. Her skin was so pale he never had trouble reading her.

“I missed her, too.”

“A letter would have been nice. It would have let her know you were alive.” Nate turned his stony face to Stef. “We should get going if we’re going to make the plane.”

Jen’s smile fell, and Stef kind of wanted to put a fist through his friend’s face. He knew how Nate felt about Jennifer. Nate had made it entirely plain to him during the plane trip to Dallas. He was angry because his wife, Callie, had been very hurt by Jen’s sudden disappearance. Callie’s other husband, Zane, was a bit more forgiving. Zane understood the need to run. If Zane would have been a lick of help, Stef would have brought him instead of Nate.

Unfortunately, Nate was the sheriff of Bliss, and there was just no substitute.

“Come on.” Stef tried to soften the gruff command by placing a hand on her back.

She stepped away. “You’re sure I can’t just stay here? My trial is going to be here. That lawyer person said I could stay with him.”

Stef’s heart plunged. She would rather stay with a complete stranger than come home. Maybe he should let her. Julian Lodge would make sure she was safe. Perhaps he should simply bow out. He never meant to come after her anyway. He should step back and allow her to live her own life.

“You’re coming with me or you can go back to jail.” So much for stepping back. He just couldn’t. And Julian lived in one of the most notorious BDSM clubs in the world. No way was he going to allow Jennifer to live there. She’d be collared in a heartbeat. She’d belong to someone else. He couldn’t handle the thought.

“See? Puppet master Stef is in the house. Fine. I’ll go back because Bliss is way better than the Dallas County Jail, but don’t think I’ll trade favors for my freedom.” She turned and walked out the door, her back regally straight as though she were a queen leaving her castle.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, love.” Stef followed her quickly. He shed his own jacket because the little queen was going to be awfully cold.

He caught up with her and settled the jacket around her shoulders. He thought briefly about uncuffing her, but decided he didn’t want to get slapped. He led her to the drive. “Wear it.” She smiled up at him, but there was no warmth in it. “Of course. I wouldn’t dream of refusing Master Stefan. Besides, I like the fact that you’re cold.”

“How could he possibly be cold?” Nate asked with a smirk. “He’s been running ever since the PI called him yesterday morning. I don’t think his heart’s settled down once since he got that call. He had everyone in Bliss on their toes five minutes later.” Stef sent Nate his best “shut the fuck up” look.

Jen turned to Nate as the limo pulled up. “Really? I wish I could have seen that. Tell me something, how is she, really? Is Callie happy? Has Rachel had her baby yet? Did Stella find someone to replace me? I mean, I know she did, but I just…I missed everyone.

More than I realized.”

The driver popped out and opened the door. Stef got in and turned back to help Jen.

Nate softened slightly as he settled into the seat across from them.

He looked slightly out of place in the elegant limo. Sometimes it was hard for Stef to remember Nate came from money. “Callie’s really doing great. She and Zane are having the time of their life driving me crazy. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Rachel is due in a couple of weeks. Stef brought in a doctor. We have a nice clinic now.”

“Well, I had to, or Max and Rye were going to drive me crazy.

Why Rachel ever let them read those What to Expect books, I have no idea. They’ve been paranoid. And Max has become quite the medical expert. He’s diagnosed Rachel with everything from GERD to preeclampsia. I expect Ebola is next on his list of things his pregnant wife is dying from. I had to bring in Dr. Burke to save poor Rachel from Max keeping her on bed rest.”

Jen laughed. It was practically music in Stef’s mind. “I can’t believe I missed that. Has Mel made sure the baby is safe from alien probes?”

“Naturally. He’s consulted with Dr. Burke about making the birth completely alien free. The doc is a tolerant man. He’s also good with electronics. He’s modified the Detector 5000 to warn us if an alien invades Rachel’s womb.”

“Excellent.”

Jen turned her face to the window as they drove toward the airport. He watched her carefully. He wondered if she was sad to leave Dallas. He’d been inside her tiny apartment on Good Latimer. It was a studio space, but it looked like an art bomb had gone off inside.

There were canvases and three different easels, each set up to catch a different type of light. Everywhere he’d looked there were signs of her creativity. Sketchbooks were littered through the place as though she wanted one anywhere she sat in case an idea hit her.

The limo fell silent as Nate played around on his cell. He was probably texting Callie or Zane, who would immediately call Stella, and the grapevine would be in full bloom. In roughly five minutes, everyone in Bliss would know he was bringing Jen home. They turned up Mockingbird, and Stef thought about his own work. He’d only managed two canvases while she’d been gone, each a portrait of a slender brunette with flashing green eyes.

How was he going to keep his hands off her?

Minutes later, the limo rolled to a stop right on the tarmac.

“Wow, a private jet?” Her eyes were wide as she looked at his father’s corporate jet. Stef helped her out of the limo.

Nate was shaking his head. “The rich are different, girl.” Stef felt his jaw drop. “You flew in corporate jets most of your life, asshole.”

Nate winked and tipped his Stetson. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just a country sheriff.” He disappeared up the steps.

Jen turned and stared at him for a moment. She bit at her bottom lip, tugging it into her mouth. “Stef, this is a bad idea. We don’t work.

You know we don’t.”

He stood there, unable to confirm or deny the allegation. He didn’t want to do either because that would mean making a decision, and he wasn’t ready for that.

She came close and went up on her toes. “But I want you to know that I’m grateful you came for me. It’s the nicest thing anyone ever did.”

She kissed his cheek, her lips warm on his cold skin. Then she turned and managed the stairs into the jet.

Stef reached for the keys to the handcuffs as he followed her. He had no intention of leaving her that way. She wouldn’t go back to Bliss in cuffs, although no one would question it there. Bliss was different from Dallas. It was why he’d dug it at a young age. He turned and looked at the city he was born in. It wasn’t home anymore and hadn’t been for a long time. It was just a place where his father summoned him from time to time. It was a prison to do time in until he could get back to his real life.

The pilot was waiting at the top of the steps.

“Mr. Talbot, if you’ll take your seat, we’ll be ready to go in a few moments now that all four passengers are aboard. Mindy will be our flight attendant. I believe she’s already getting your father his drink.

Please let her know if you need anything at all. We’ll set down in Alamosa at roughly noon Mountain Time.” Stef felt his whole body start to sink into the floor. He ducked into the jet, his mind racing.

Please, no. Let it be a case of mistaken identity. Please, let it be some executive who’s just catching a ride. Not my father. He couldn’t handle his uptight father right now. He didn’t need another lecture on fulfilling his family duties. He didn’t have Callie with him to act as a buffer. Crap . He didn’t have Callie anymore. His mind raced. Callie was married. She probably wouldn’t be able to play the role of his longtime girlfriend to keep his father off his back.

Or would she? Stef had bankrolled Zane’s bar. Hell, he was the whole reason those three had gotten together in the first place. They owed him. It wasn’t like he was taking her away. He would just borrow her from time to time to placate his father. That shouldn’t bother anyone. Callie had been doing it for years. His father believed he’d stayed in Bliss because he was deeply in love with Callie Sheppard. He would probably be upset to find out she was now Callie Hollister-Wright.

But it would be okay, because it wasn’t his elegant father who had a perpetual stick up his aristocratic ass. The pilot was misinformed.

“Hello, son.”

His father sat across from Nate, a broad smile on his face. He wore a sweater and jeans instead of his usual three-piece suit.

Sebastian Talbot looked older, softer than Stef had ever seen him. He wore his hair very short, and it was gray. His father had always had a stylist darken his hair.

“Dad.”

Jennifer’s whole face was lit with glee. She held her hands out.

No one could possibly miss those shiny cuffs. Nate was back to texting furiously. For a badass ex-DEA agent, he’d become a terrible gossip.

“I was just telling your father all about how you kidnapped me and how you’re a righteous pervert,” Jen explained.

His dad shook a finger at him. “And I told her that wasn’t how I’d raised you.”

“You didn’t raise me.” It was true. His father had left him behind in Bliss to be raised by a nanny. Although now that he thought about it, he’d really been raised by Bliss. Mrs. Harper had let him spend night after night at her house. Callie’s mom had taken him shopping and taught him to drive. And Stella, well, Stella had been his mom in every way that counted.

Sebastian shrugged. “Well, I’m sure I left a note for your nanny.

One always believes that not allowing your child to turn into a righteous pervert is implied. It can be hard to find good help.”

“What are you doing here, Dad?” Stef uncuffed Jen and gently showed her to a seat.

His father leaned forward, his face serious. “I’ve come with a request, son.”

“And you couldn’t just e-mail me? My cell works. How did you even know I would be here?”

“I had to approve the request for the jet.” Gray eyes assessed Stef.

“I knew this might be the only time I got to see you. You’ve been busy the last few times I asked you to come back to Dallas.”

“I have several projects due.” It was true. He had a couple of commissioned works he needed to finish. He didn’t bother to mention he hadn’t worked on them because he couldn’t get Jennifer out of his brain. “I apologize, but I couldn’t get away. Now, please hurry and tell me what you want. The plane is about to take off.”

“I’ve got cancer, Stefan. Prostate cancer. I’ve been in chemo and radiation, and I’m in remission, but it could come back. I’ve come to beg you to marry Callie. I want to see you settled and happy before anything happens to me.”

Nate stopped texting, his phone falling to the floor and his mouth hanging open. “What did he say?”

Stef felt his world spin. His father had cancer. His father had gone through therapy, and he hadn’t been there. Of course, his father hadn’t asked him to be there, hadn’t even told him he was sick, but it didn’t matter. Guilt gnawed at his gut.

Of course, he had another problem. Shit . His father wanted him to marry Callie. Nate and Zane might have a problem with that.

“And I’m not getting off the plane, son,” his father said, settling back in his seat. “I’m coming to Bliss with you, and I’m not leaving until I get what I want.”

The plane started to taxi down the runway. Stef felt like he was trapped inside a coffin. Everything was coming unraveled. His well-ordered world was coming back to bite him in the ass. His father had been sick and could be again. Nate glared at him, obviously waiting for an answer. His father, who had lost his damn mind, leaned over and patted his hand.

Jen let loose with a long, robust laugh. “God, I missed Bliss.” Stef felt his stomach turn as the plane took off. He gave Nate a shake of his head. Nate frowned, and Stef was grateful when he sat back, obviously willing to leave this argument for a more private time. Stef sat back and watched Dallas fall away. His mind wandered back to that night with Jen. That was when it had all started to whirl out of control.

If only he could change it all.

Chapter Three

Six months before

Stef walked into the Bliss County Sheriff’s Office with blood on his hands. He gripped the shotgun he held like an old friend. Despite the fact that the threat seemed to be over, he couldn’t come down. He felt the adrenaline racing through his system. It made him ragged and jittery.

“Hey, Stef, you got the keys?” Max, one of his best friends, ran to catch up to him. They had driven back together, he, Max, and Max’s twin, Rye. Each had been silent in the car, as though they all had to take in what had just happened.

Stef reached into his pocket and pulled out the keys Nate had given to him before he’d been loaded into the ambulance to go to the hospital. Stef had replayed the whole scene in his head a hundred times. A pair of rogue DEA agents had taken Callie hostage and offered to trade her for Zane, who had information that would lead them to millions of dollars worth of drug money. No one had been willing to give up Zane except Zane. Nate had set up a plan to take out the agents. It had gone well until one of the bastards had captured Nate. Stef had thought he held the ace when he caught the man’s partner and offered an exchange. The bastard had simply shot his partner between the eyes and held on to Nate.

He’d had a hand on the man when he died. Leander. Stef thought that was his name. It was all a jumble, but the blood was clear. It clung to his hands. The image was burned in his brain. The DEA agents were dead. Mel and Nate had been shot. Callie was worse for the wear. His sweet, pacifist friend had been forced to kill a man to save her loves, Nate and Zane.

Everyone he loved was alive, but he was still shaking inside.

“Max! Where is Rye? Oh, god, where’s Rye?” Rachel’s shout broke through his dark thoughts. He could hear the panic in her voice.

Rye pushed him aside as he ran toward his brother and their wife.

“I’m fine, baby. I’m fine. We’re all fine.” Stef stood in the doorway, watching as Max opened the little cell he’d placed his pregnant wife in to ensure her safety. He’d shoved Jennifer in with Rachel. She had no place walking into an ambush with a shotgun, and he didn’t trust her not to follow him. She was as stubborn as the day was long, and she loved Callie.

Max and Rye surrounded their wife. They hugged her and kissed her, whispering words of comfort to her. Their hands found her belly and rested on the child growing there.

“Where are the sheriff and Zane and Callie?” Laura Niles was on her formidable heels as he stared at the cell. Jen stood inside, watching him with hooded eyes. He could still remember the way she’d cursed him as he locked her inside.

He spoke to Laura, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Jennifer.

“Hospital. Mel’s with them. No one is critical. Nate was shot, but it was in his shoulder. He doesn’t want anyone visiting until tomorrow.” Stella patted his back as she walked past. “I’ll head down anyway.

Someone will have to sit with Mel. And maybe translate for him. He has a theory about the aliens taking over pharmaceutical companies. It could go really poorly for those doctors.” Laura hurried after Stella. “I’ll keep you company, Stella.” Marie and Teeny had been left behind, too. They were one of Bliss’s oldest couples and ran the Trading Post together. Nate’s deputy, Logan, called them both Mom. After Max assured them Logan was all right and was simply handling the paperwork with the feds, they decided to stay on and man the station so the men could get some rest.

Rest. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to do that. A weird, angry energy was thrumming through his veins. He wanted to hit something—or fuck someone. Not someone. Jennifer. Sinking himself into Jennifer’s soft body would take away the pain.

He shook off the thought. He couldn’t use her like that. It would mean something to her. Hell, it would mean something to him, and neither one of them was ready for that. She was so damn young, so impetuous. Tonight had certainly proven that.

“Come on, Jennifer. I’ll take you home.” He owed her that, at least. She was so beautiful, even with mascara running down her cheeks. She took a hand wipe from Teeny and washed off her face.

He would have to stay away from her. He couldn’t ask Max or Rye to take her home. He had to do it himself, but he needed to keep his distance, or he would make a mistake they would both regret. He could feel it.

“Fuck you, Stef.” She shoved her way past him.

Volcanic rage threatened to overtake him. It wasn’t about her, but she was going to take the brunt unless she stopped pushing him. Hell, she’d been pushing him for a year and a half, ever since she waltzed into Bliss and declared she’d come to learn from him. She’d wanted him to teach her his techniques.

Stef didn’t teach. Not art at least. Now the finer points of Dominance and submission, that was another story. The Dom in him responded to her lack of respect. He followed her as she strode out of the building.

The early autumn air was already taking on a distinct chill at night, but it did nothing to cool Stef’s blood. Watching her walk away spurred his instincts to track her down. She walked quickly, as though she knew the danger she was in. Stef followed, blood pounding through his system. His thinking brain kept reasoning that he would just follow her and make sure she got home all right.

But that dark, dirty part of him knew what this was—a hunt that would end with him taking her down.

He quickly opened the door to his Land Rover, stashed the shotgun, and followed her. Her shoes clicked on the sidewalk as she passed the town hall and rushed across the street. He knew exactly where she was going. Her tiny apartment was over the diner. Stella had rented the little studio to her when she’d taken the waitressing job there. Jen turned the corner of the alley that led into the parking lot, and Stef jogged to catch up. He wouldn’t let her close the door on him.

She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned. She fairly vibrated with rage. “What are you doing, Stef?” That was an awfully good question, and he didn’t have much of an answer. He came up with the safest one he could find. “Protecting you.”

She rolled those green eyes. In the moonlight her skin looked like fine porcelain. “From what? Max said all the bad guys are dead.” He groped for an answer to that. “But the bikers are still around.

Until they know the hit is off Zane, they’ll still look for him.” She walked straight up to him and shoved a finger into his chest.

“Then go protect Zane. I don’t need your protection, Stef. I don’t want it, and I don’t want you.”

“Liar.” She’d always wanted him. She’d thrown herself at him. He just hadn’t thought it was a good idea to catch her.

She shook her head. “Nope. After the stunt you pulled tonight, I have zero desire to have anything to do with you. As a matter of fact, I should thank your perverted ass. Thank you, Stef. Thank you for finally showing me what an asshole you are. It totally frees me up to find someone who can actually get it up around me.” He actually saw red. It swam in front of his eyes like a mist, clouding everything, making the world seem a little unreal.

She just kept talking. “I think that tomorrow I’m going to do what Callie didn’t manage to do. I’m going to find myself some hot tourist and fuck the hell out of him. I’ve wasted a year and a half hoping you would actually see me. That’s not going to happen because you can’t fuck a woman who doesn’t kiss your feet. Can you, King Stefan?” He tried to breathe deeply. “Stop. Jennifer, if you stop now, I might be able to walk away.”

“If there’s one thing I am sure of it’s your ability to walk away from me.” She turned on her heels. “Go back home, Stef. I’m done with you.”

He reached out and grabbed her, hauling her back by her wrist.

She stumbled, but he caught her.

“What are you doing?” She yelled the question as she tried to get her balance back.

Stef was done talking. Talking didn’t mean anything to her. He’d tried to explain. He’d tried to stay away. He’d tried to be her friend.

She wouldn’t stop pushing. He planted his shoulder in her midsection and had her in a fireman’s hold before she could move.

Her hands beat on his back. He welcomed the sensation.

“Put me down, you jackass!”

He climbed the stairs toward her apartment with no thought but getting her inside and showing her just how fast he could get it up around her. He could handle the accusation that he was an asshole.

That was a simple, documented fact. But he was always hard around her. Fuck, half the time he couldn’t breathe when she was around.

And he knew he couldn’t think. How could he be expected to when all the blood in his body shifted to his cock the minute she walked in a room?

He reached out and opened the door. It opened without the need of a key.

“Damn it, Jennifer. Anyone could walk in here.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that now.” She pounded on his back. She tried kicking her legs, but he had a good hold on those. “Let me down, Stef.”

He set her on her feet and shut the door. He had her in a neat little cage now. She wouldn’t be able to get away from him. She stumbled, trying to put some distance between them.

“Get out.”

He looked around and quickly found what he needed. She had a pile of folded laundry in a hamper on a table in the small kitchen area.

Delicates. He selected a tiny pink thong. It would look lovely between the cheeks of her ass. He had another use in mind.

“OMG, you are such a perv,” she ranted on. “You’re going to steal my panties? You ignore me for over a year, and then you steal my undies?”

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way.” He heard his Dom voice turn on. It was low and seemed to come from a place deep inside his chest. It felt good to lose control, like a drug running through his system, lighting up his every nerve.

She finally stopped, and her eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”

Good girl . She was finally getting it. That little hint of fear in her eyes hardened his already rock-hard cock to painful proportions. If he didn’t get out of his pants soon, they might split on him. “Give me your hands so I can tie you up.”

There it was, that little hitch in her breath that had nothing to do with fear. Despite it, she shook her head. “No. No, Stef. That’s a bad idea.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “But it’s going to happen. Easy way or hard way, Jennifer. It’s your choice.”

Her throat moved up and down as she swallowed. Her eyes darted around the room, and her chest heaved. She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them the fear was gone, replaced with a glint of challenge. “Oh, I think it’s going to be very hard, Master Stefan.”

He’d always known she would be fun to play with, but he wasn’t playing now. This was serious. “Safe word. Pick one now.”

She didn’t prevaricate or pretend to misunderstand. She spat out her chosen word as though she’d always had it in her back pocket, just waiting to use. “Impressionist.”

“Excellent.” What he was about to do to her was so far away from gauzy and slightly surreal. It would be rough and hard. “You can run, if you like.”

“Fuck you, Stef.” She turned and ran for her bathroom.

He was on her before she’d gotten three steps. He grabbed her around the waist and eased her to the floor. Using his weight to pin her down, he bound her hands in the silky thong and flipped her over.

“God, you’re good at that.” There was no mistaking the admiration in her tone. It was another thing he loved about her. Her perversion seemed to match his own. If only he could trust her to know her own heart at such a young age.

He put a hand on her lips. “No. No talking.”

“That might be hard for me.”

“Then let me make it easy.” He got off her and quickly swung her up. He sat on her lumpy couch and had her over his lap in a second.

He pulled at the denim of her miniskirt. She wore a pair of cotton panties. They were easy to rip off her.

“Damn it, Stef. I just bought those.” He brought his hand down on the fleshy part of her ass. “No cussing.”

She gasped and went still under him. “You spanked me.” He brought his hand down again, loving the way her ass got pink.

“Yes, love, what did you expect?” Another slap, right on the pretty crease of her ass. Jen might be slender, but she had a perfectly plump ass. Made to take a spanking. Made to fuck. “And I’ll do this every time you disobey me.”

“Every time,” she agreed with a husky moan.

His hand came down again. “That’s one for cussing. And one for questioning me.”

“I didn’t question you.”

Smack . “And another for arguing. And ten for giving me hell all night long.”

He spanked her, sparing her not at all. His hand came down in short arcs, delivering his punishment all over her cheeks. He could feel her crying, but not once did she ask him to stop or scream out her safe word. She simply held on to his legs as though seeking more connection. They were partners in play and pleasure. When he was done he admired his work. Her ass was hot pink, and he could smell her arousal. He slipped a finger between her cheeks and let it slide toward her pussy. She was coated in cream.

He set her on her feet and unbound her hands. Her face was as red as her cheeks. “Clothes off, Jennifer. Then sit in my lap.” She was still for a moment. “You hurt me.”

“No. I tortured you a little. If I had really hurt you, you would have said your safe word. You would have fought me.” He held his hand up, showing her the juice glistening on his fingers. He brought them to his mouth and sucked them inside, tasting her for the first time. He sucked every ounce of her tangy cream off his fingers. “That pussy of yours is throbbing, isn’t it? Do you know how delicious you taste? Do you know what a meal I could make of you?”

“You’ll be the death of me, Stef.”

Her hands went to the hem of her shirt. She pulled it over her head and tossed it aside. They would go over proper procedure later, but for now he wanted her against him more than he wanted to follow protocol. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Stef stared at her perfectly formed breasts. They were small, but adorable. They would fit perfectly in the palm of his hand. Her nipples were brown and pink and tight with arousal. She shimmied out of her skirt and panties and placed herself on his lap. Her arms went around his neck.

“You’re beautiful, love.” He pushed her hair back. Why had he waited? It felt so right to have her in his arms. His anxiety had fled, leaving only a sense of joyous anticipation. Jennifer was naked, her breath warm against his neck. This was where he needed to be.

“I feel beautiful when you look at me like that.” She cuddled close, all of her previous worry seemingly gone.

“Give me your mouth.”

She turned her face up obediently. Stef brought his lips down on hers and kissed her the way he’d wanted to from the moment he’d met her. He devoured her. His mouth ate at hers hungrily, tongue invading the moment she opened her lips. He swept in and tangled their tongues together in a lustful dance. He wanted her like he hadn’t wanted anyone before. All the gorgeous submissives he’d claimed before couldn’t hold a candle to the way she moved him.

Before he knew it he was on top of her, spreading her legs and making a place for himself at her silky pussy. He didn’t hold his weight off her. He wanted to sink into her and lose himself.

He let his hands find her breasts, and his mouth followed close behind. He popped a pink nipple in his mouth and sucked, delighting in the way she groaned and moved beneath him. His hips pumped against hers.

“Stef.” She moaned his name again and again.

“Do you want me, love?” He needed to hear her say it.

“So much.” Her eyes pleaded with him.

His hands went to the fly of his pants. He knew he should get off her. He should take control—of her, of himself. He tore open his pants and shoved them and his boxers down. His cock sprang free.

“Wow,” Jen said in a breathy little voice that did amazing things for his ego. Her small hand came out and touched him. He stared at the sight. He had always been fascinated with her hands. He loved how they moved across a canvas as she stroked a painting to life.

Now they ran across his cock, making him feel more alive than he had in years.

“Stef, I’m on the pill. I’m clean.”

It was all he needed. He’d had a physical and hadn’t ever had sex without a condom before. He wanted her with nothing in between them. He pushed her hands away and lined his cock up with her soaked pussy. He pulled her legs around his hips to open her up and started to push his way in.

Tight. She was so tight around him. She was a vise on his cock.

He had to move carefully, advancing and retreating in a maddening dance. He wanted so badly to shove himself in balls deep, but he wouldn’t hurt her for the world.

“It feels so good, Stef.” Her nails had found the bare skin of his ass and sank in, urging him on.

“It feels right,” he heard himself say. He shoved against her and sighed as he finally was as deep as he could go. Every inch of his cock was surrounded by hot, delicious pussy. He held himself steady, allowing her to accept him. The muscles of her cunt quivered around his dick.

Jen’s throaty plea cut through the silence. “If you don’t move soon, I’m going to die.”

He was more than willing to give her what she wanted. Stef pulled out until just the head of his cock rested in her pussy and then slammed back in. And he was off. All thoughts besides fucking her were blasted from his brain. She was everything in that moment. He was surrounded with her. The touch of her skin. The smell of their fucking. The sound of her breath as she pushed against him, fighting for her orgasm. It was primal and out of control and perfect. She was everything he’d ever wanted. His perfect mate.

“Oh, Stef. Stef. It feels so…I…” She stopped trying to talk. Every muscle in her body seemed to tighten, and she cried out. Her legs clamped down on his hips, her pelvis thrust up.

Stef followed her. He let himself go. He pounded away at her until his balls drew up, and it was impossible to stave off the inevitable. He came in long, glorious jets of cum. He pumped into her, delivering every ounce he had in his body.

He fell forward, shocked at how his heart was still pounding. This was supposed to be his quiet time, but he wasn’t satisfied. He wanted something more, something he’d never had before.

“I love you.” Her words were whispered as her fingers sank into his hair. He felt her lips on his head.

Still, he wanted more. There was something else he was missing, something that would complete the scene they had just played out.

His heart stopped as he realized what he wanted. The words were right there on his lips, practically dripping from his tongue. Foreign words. I love you. He’d never said them before. He needed to say them to her.

He held back and let himself rest on her breasts. Eventually her breathing slowed and steadied into the rhythm of sleep. She rested, her arms wrapped around him.

Stef lay there, unwilling to wake her, but his mind raced all night.

What the hell had he done?

In the morning he was waiting for her. He’d untangled himself and gotten dressed again. He’d sat at her tiny table and scolded himself in every way imaginable. She wasn’t ready for a relationship.

She was too young for him. He wanted too much from her. He didn’t have the right to demand that she settle down, and he wouldn’t, couldn’t, settle for less from her.

He’d played out the scenarios in his head. He’d thought about simply starting a D/s relationship. That would be the easiest way to keep her close. They could have their own separate lives and come together for play. It was the way he’d handled his relationships for a very long time.

He’d watched her sleep, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it there. He would have her moved into the estate and under his thumb before she knew what was happening. It was his nature.

He could see clearly the way it would go. They would be happy for a while, but then she would need more. She would grow and change and leave him behind. It would be just like…

He didn’t want to think about his father right now. This was about Stef and Jennifer. His own parents were simply an object lesson as to why an older man should not marry a much younger woman.

Jennifer stirred, twisting as though seeking something in her sleep.

She obviously didn’t find it, and she went up on one elbow to look around the room. There was slight panic in her eyes, and then she softened as she saw him.

“Hey, good morning,” she said in a sleepy voice that went straight to his cock.

He wanted to strip down and climb back on the couch with her.

He would push her legs apart again and be where he always wanted to be—inside her.

“We need to talk,” he forced himself to say. If he gave in now, it would be disastrous for both of them. She had a whole career ahead of her. She didn’t need a man in her life who would try to take over.

She sat up, clutching the quilt he’d pulled over her. “Do we have to? I liked it better when we didn’t talk.” He did, too, but this was morning, and they had to face reality.

“Jennifer, last night was a mistake.” Her eyes slid away from his. “You bastard.” He didn’t argue. He was a bastard. He’d taken her last night when he’d known it was wrong. “It was a mistake, and I take full responsibility. It wasn’t your fault. I took advantage of you.” Now she looked at him, tears shining in her eyes. “Because I wasn’t here at all, was I? Because I didn’t make a choice? What the hell am I to you, Stef?”

“You’re a friend,” he said gently.

“No, I am not. People trust their friends. You said once that I knew nothing of trust, but you’re the one who doesn’t trust me. You think I’m a child, but I’m not. I know what I want, Stef. I want you.” She leaned toward him, holding her hand out. “Last night wasn’t a mistake. This morning is, can’t you see that?”

“Jennifer, I remember being twenty-three. It’s not the easiest time in your life. There are lots of things that you think you want, but you simply don’t have the experience to know.”

Now she stood. “Fuck you, Stef. Get out of my house. I’m not some child, but you’re never going to see it. You’re never going to see me as anything but some airhead kid.”

“I’d prefer to talk about this reasonably.”

“Screw reason. I’m done reasoning with you. I’ve begged and pleaded and made a fool of myself. Well, I’m done with all of that, Stef. And I’m done with you, so feel free to leave.”

“Last night you loved me, and this morning you’re through.” Everything she said just made his point.

She shrugged. “Well, I guess you were right about me, then. Out!” He left, the door slamming behind him and the worst feeling in the pit of his stomach telling him that he’d fucked everything up. He’d intended to be gentle, to talk it out. As he walked away, he thought he heard her cry. He’d knocked on the door, but it was locked this time.

He’d stood there, hand on the door, and wished he could go back in and hold her.

He left a few moments later, but that afternoon he’d been back like a moth to the flame. He’d come with flowers he’d bought at the Trading Post and plans to, at least, talk this out. He couldn’t stand the thought of her feeling down. Maybe, he’d thought, maybe, they could try.

Her apartment had been empty of anything that was personal.

Only the furniture remained. She’d packed up and left in a matter of hours.

He’d walked out, tossing the flowers in the trash. It was better this way, he’d told himself. It was better that she left now, rather than later.

Chapter Four

Stef was jarred awake as the chair he sat in was forcefully kicked.

He sat up straight, forcing himself to come out of the dream he’d been having. It was a familiar dream, one he had every night. He’d made love to Jennifer again. He’d chased her down and taken her. He’d made her his. She’d been soft and utterly submissive by the time he’d gotten her underneath him. It had been perfect in his dream because this time he’d said the words he wanted to say. This time he’d made it right, and she hadn’t left him.

When his vision cleared he saw the reason he couldn’t say the words. His father was asleep in the chair across from him, his eyes closed and a blanket around his body. He was older, more fragile than Stef had ever seen him. His father was a rock. His father was a workaholic who never seemed to have an emotion, much less show one.

Except that one day. The day his mother had left them alone. He remembered very little besides shouting and his mother’s pronouncement that no amount of money made up for being tied to a husband and a kid. But he remembered his father’s knees hitting the floor. He remembered the way his father had clung to him as he cried.

The next day, Sebastian Talbot had been back to smooth, CEO

perfection as if nothing had happened. He’d divorced his young bride and never mentioned her name again. It had been years before Stef had heard anything about her, and then it had been a single e-mail explaining she’d remarried and requested contact. He’d been twenty.

He’d deleted it and blocked her from his e-mail.

Stef let his eyes slide to Jen’s sleeping form. She was even younger than his mother had been when she married his father.

“You want to explain to me why your father thinks you’re going to marry my wife?” Nate’s low growl brought Stef out of his revelry.

He’d whispered the question, but it jarred Sebastian.

“What?” His father sat straight up and glanced around. There seemed to be a moment’s panic as though he didn’t remember where he was, but then a smile lit his face. He stretched and moved aside the blanket the flight attendant had settled on him while he was sleeping.

“Sorry. I must have fallen asleep. I tire easily these days. I’m afraid I was dreaming. How far are we from Bliss?” Nate backed off. “Another twenty minutes, Mr. Talbot.” Sebastian shook his head. “No, no, Nathan. That won’t do. Please call me Sebastian. Half the time Stefan does. I can’t wait to see Bliss again.”

The panic was back. His father was coming home. “Dad, this is insane. You don’t vacation. The whole time I was growing up, you rarely left the office.”

He turned and looked out the window. He took in the gorgeous mountain views. “That’s not true, son. I spent two whole years in Bliss running the company from the estate. It worked well then. Given today’s technology it would be even easier now. Don’t worry. I won’t be a pest. I’ll stay in the guesthouse.”

“No!” Both he and Nate shouted the denial.

“The guesthouse is drafty,” Nate managed to sputter. “It’s really cold right now. You’ve been in Texas for a long time. Colorado winters are hard.”

Stef was glad Nate was such a quick thinker. He nodded. “Yes, the guesthouse needs some renovations.” The guesthouse was perfectly comfy. It was also filled with sex toys. Often it was where he kept his subs when they came for training.

Of course, for the last six months the place had been empty except when Max and Rye had brought their wife there to play. Stef hadn’t brought in a sub since that night with Jennifer. It had seemed wrong somehow.

Sebastian shrugged as he got out of his seat. Stef noticed his father had lost a lot of weight. He seemed small and frail. “Well, there are six bedrooms. I’m sure we’ll all manage. I promise you’ll barely know I’m there.”

He walked toward the back of the plane and disappeared into the bathroom.

Jen’s eyes came open. She looked sleepy and soft. A secret little smile curled those plump lips of hers up. “Liars. What’s up, Stef?

Don’t want your dad to find your stash of butt plugs?” Stef shuddered to think about it. There were far more exotic toys than anal plugs. “I’m more worried about what he would say about the St. Andrew’s Cross. He also might think the new violet wand I bought is a massager. Really, it’s best he doesn’t go into the guesthouse. For all our sakes.”

“He might know you better than you think. Our parents tend to know us better than we imagine,” Jen said, pulling a blanket around her. Stef pulled his blanket off his body and handed it to her. She didn’t argue, simply tucked it around her and settled back down.

“I don’t think he knows you at all,” Nate said. His face was flushed, his jaw perfectly square. “Especially since he thinks you’re sleeping with my wife.”

Jen grinned at the sheriff. “Didn’t you know, Nate? Callie’s been his beard for years. Ever since they were teens.”

“She is not my beard. For god’s sake, Jennifer.” She was making far more of this than was true. He and Callie had a very simple agreement. She pretended to be his girlfriend, and he did stuff for her.

They took care of each other. He turned to Nate. “On several occasions Callie accompanied me to Dallas. My father would summon me from time to time, and Callie went with me. He never made me stay for long. Maybe his conscience got to him, I don’t know.”

“Maybe he just wanted to see his son,” Jen offered.

“I doubt it. I found it awkward and unsettling to have to go to my father’s place. I did not consider it home. It’s strange. I was born in Dallas, raised there for years, but even at the age of eight, I knew Bliss was my home. I fought him when he decided to move back to Dallas, and he left me there with two nannies and a staff of ten. He summoned me home twice a year, but ignored me when I was there.

He had meetings, you see. What he really wanted to do was lecture me. When I was seventeen he asked whether I had a girlfriend. I told him no and was immediately presented with several applicants for the position. I doubt it had much to do with my happiness. He simply wanted me to marry the right sort of girl.” Jen’s eyebrow arched. “Callie must have come as a surprise.”

“Callie’s the right sort of girl. Callie’s the perfect girl.” Nate was unwavering in support of his oft-naked wife.

Stef felt himself smile. He loved Callie Sheppard, though not in the way his father thought. She was the sister he’d never had. Callie was a brilliant combination of quirky and strong. She was just like the town where she had been born. And she was completely the wrong sort of woman for a man concerned with high society to marry. She spent far too much time at naturist camps to be comfy with jet-setters.

And yet his father had taken to Callie right away. He’d been utterly charmed by her. Every time Stef had brought her to Dallas, his father had taken them out, and not once had he tried to change her or talked to Stef about her beyond how sweet she was. Every time his father called, he asked about Callie.

“Okay, I get why you used her as your fake girlfriend when you were younger, but you’re thirty-two now and she’s taken,” Nate said, sounding more reasonable. “Don’t you think it’s time you came clean?”

“How many phone calls from your father have you ducked lately, Wright?” Stef knew where to shove the knife in. Nate was completely estranged from his father, but the man kept calling. He seemed to think Nate should loan him money.

Nate sighed and sat back. “Family. What are you going to do?” Stef knew exactly what he was going to do. “I’m going to let it ride. My dad wants me to be happy with Callie? Fine. I’ll tell him I’m going to ask her to marry me soon, and we’ll leave it at that. He’s been sick. This is a phase. Trust me, the first emergency at Talbot Industries, and his CEO hat will be right back on. He’ll go back to Dallas, and I’ll get a Christmas card from his secretary.”

“Are you forgetting that I’m Callie’s husband? Well, I’m one of her husbands. We’re not looking for a fourth, Stef.” Now was the time to bring out his big guns. “And who facilitated your marriage? Who introduced you in the first place? Who gave you a job and a place to stash the big guy when he was all post-traumatically stressed out?”

Nate’s jaw became a hard line.

Jen just nodded at Nate. “See, King Stefan. Just like I said. The king giveth and then expects payback when you least expect it. First it’s a simple ‘hey, come get Jen out of jail with me,’ and now you have to give him access to your wife.” Her teasing made him want to spank her. He really didn’t need that mental image now. “I am not demanding to sleep with Callie. I am simply borrowing her in an attempt to misrepresent my love life to my father.”

Nate sat back, but suddenly a smile spread across his face. It made Stef unaccountably nervous. “You’re right. I owe you. You know what? Callie is meeting us at the airport. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to see your father again. I’ll just step back and let you have your little ruse.”

“Thank you.” It solved one of his problems.

Jen was gaping at Nate. “You are so mean, Sheriff.”

“I am entirely reasonable.” Nate smirked, and Stef wondered if he was missing something.

Before he could really process the problem, the plane began a turn.

The flight attendant walked in and announced it was time to buckle up. Sebastian came out and began talking about his plans for his stay in Bliss.

Stef just wanted the whole thing to be over.

* * *

Alexei Markov stared down at the man currently being worked over by his partner, Ivan. Jean Claude Renard had started out like they all did, with threats and promises of retribution because he was such an important person. And like almost all the rest, he was just a sniveling mass of begging, pleading flesh after a couple of minutes with Ivan. Despite his deep loathing of the man, Alexei had to admit that Ivan was the master at what he did.

“It was here, I tell you. I hid the damn thing just like I promised.” He managed to get the words out of his swollen lips. “Somehow she must have figured it out.”

Ivan hit him again. Alexei could have told Renard that it didn’t matter what he said. Ivan would use him like a punching bag because he was a sadistic son of a bitch. Of course, a certain streak of sadism was always required when one became a mob enforcer.

Sadism, or a well-defined and patient sense of revenge.

He couldn’t help Renard even if he wanted to, and he didn’t. If he did, he put everything he’d worked years for at risk. He was so close to getting in the same room with Pushkin that he could taste it. Then he would be free.

Ivan stared down at his victim. “My boss would like his package.

He paid for it, and he would like it now. I have to be on plane to Moscow in four hours. We can use that time to bundle up the package, or I can simply beat on you until we board. It is up to you. It make no difference to me.”

Ivan’s English was decent, though he sounded like it pained him to speak anything but Russian. Alexei was well aware his could use a bit of work, but he’d spent a lot of time watching American television and becoming accustomed to their ways. If he survived his meeting with Pushkin, he would find a way to build a new life in this country.

He would be free here.

Well, he would be an illegal immigrant on the run from both the Russian police and the mob, but at least he wouldn’t have to listen to Ivan anymore. Ivan was a brute. Having to share a room with him for the last year had been trying to say the least. The man did not understand that the world had made great strides in personal hygiene products. He seemed to think smelling like a bear made him more intimidating.

Alexei tapped a foot on the floor. He was so tired of being a lackey. He needed to be back in Russia, doing whatever it took to get close to the man. “Or he could give back money to Pushkin. With twenty-percent increase for all our trouble.” Ivan snorted. Alexei knew that it wouldn’t satisfy Pushkin, but it would buy this idiot an hour or two to come to his senses. He wasn’t sure why Renard had decided to renege on his deal with the head of one of Russia’s most notorious crime syndicates, but he seemed a reasonable man. Most people wanted to live. Alexei did some quick calculations. If he got Renard to come to his senses and give up the package by five, he could be home in roughly twenty-four hours. He could deliver the package himself. Pushkin was being strangely paranoid about this one painting. He wanted to meet with Ivan and Alexei himself to take the package into custody. But first he had to convince Renard to give up the painting.

A wet cough came out of Renard’s chest. “Sure. I can do that. I just need a little time to get the money.” Alexei felt his eyebrows rise. “I was told Pushkin sent you two million four days ago.”

Another cough and a shudder. “I spent it. I owed some people, some people from Columbia. Please. You can’t tell Pushkin I lost the painting. He’ll kill me. He might kill you, too. God, how did this go so wrong? I just need a little time. I can find it. She must have taken it with her last night.”

“He’s a very international idiot,” Ivan said in Russian. “How many dangerous groups can one man get involved with?” Alexei shook his head. Renard was going downhill fast. It was obvious the man had spent Pushkin’s money on cocaine. “Please, show some respect, Ivan. We are in his country. We should kill him in his own language.”

Renard let out a pitiful cry.

Ivan backhanded him. “Fine. But you are too soft on these people.”

As Ivan continued to pound on the gallery owner who’d been foolish enough to make a deal with the Russian mob and then renege on it, Alexei looked around the small room. The gallery outside had been stark and modern, but this was a work space. It was much more intimate, with small details that let a person know something about the occupants. Before he’d been too preoccupied with wailing from pain, Renard had explained that this was his restoration room.

Apparently he was not an artist himself, but he cleaned up works that had damage. It was in this manner that he had acquired the painting Pushkin desired. Alexei bent over and picked up the canvas that had been destroyed by Ivan when they first entered the room. Renard had tried to play a little game with them. He’d told them to pack up the painting and leave as though they were mere messenger boys without a brain in their head. Alexei knew better. Pushkin had sent them a copy of the photo of the painting they were supposed to bring back.

He’d pulled up the photo on his cell phone, unwilling to take the man’s word for it. Between the man’s sweaty, nervous demeanor, and Alexei’s excellent eye, he’d quickly discerned that the man was attempting to fool them. The painting looked very similar, but it wasn’t close to the same in Alexei’s eyes. There was something about the colors. Alexei had seen it right away.

Renard had explained, through his cries of pain, that he had hidden the Picasso for safekeeping and easy transport. Now he could not find it.

It was a very foolish play on Renard’s part.

Ivan had torn apart this work to prove what Alexei suspected. Ivan had cursed because the paint was still wet. Apparently Renard had hidden the Picasso behind another painting and switched them, hoping no one would notice until he was long gone. Alexei stared at the canvas Ivan had pried off the frame.

It was odd. Mostly it was a collection of colors, and yet he could feel the emotion from the canvas. It was all blues and greens and the slightest hint of purple. There was the faintest impression of a male figure. Alexei liked art.

“Who is artist?” He would bet it was a female. The softness spoke of femininity.

Ivan let the gallery owner drop to the floor. “What do you care?

This is not the painting that the boss desires. Are you sure it is painting at all? It looks like someone tosses paint can at a canvas.” Philistine. Ivan wasn’t smart enough to know his art. Alexei shrugged. “I am curious.”

Ivan kicked at Renard, his booted foot connecting viciously with the man’s gut. “Tell my friend, who is artist. He wants to know.” Renard turned his bloodshot eyes up and looked at Alexei. “She’s an employee.”

So it was a woman. “She is sad. This is very sad painting. I like it.

It say things to me.”

“It speak to you, Alexei. That is the right phrase. Don’t lecture me until you get your English right. You are correct about one thing. We have to be able to speak to the people we are killing or they will not know why they are dead.”

At those words, Renard began to scream. His high-pitched wails ate at Alexei’s nerves. He looked at Ivan and spoke in Russian.

“That was not helpful.”

Ivan shrugged. Renard tried to crawl away, but Ivan’s boot came down on his back. “Better he knows what is coming for him. He does not have the painting. He would have given it up by now.” Most people would have given it up by now. Ivan was an expert at pain delivery. So Renard didn’t have the painting, and apparently the money had gone straight up his nose. If he didn’t have the painting, Alexei needed to figure out who did. It would do him no good to return to Russia with nothing to show for his efforts. He needed that painting.

“Would police have the painting?” Alexei asked, hoping that the answer was no. He knew why Renard had brought in the police. The idiot wanted to keep his business, and the best way to do it was to pin the crime on someone else. But he prayed the man had been smart enough not to allow the prize to become evidence.

“No, it was a different painting, I tell you,” Renard managed. “I hid it behind a different painting. I don’t know. All of her stuff looks alike to me. I prefer realism. Her stuff is mostly swirly colors meant to express emotion. I’ve been staring at her work for months, and I don’t get it. Sold a couple for her. Always the same buyer. He pays top dollar.”

Ivan frowned as he looked down. “Perhaps I hit him too hard.”

“You think?” Alexei shook his head. Ivan always hit them too hard. It made it very difficult to interrogate a victim when his teeth were stuck halfway down his throat. He started to point at Ivan, and noticed that his fingers had a fine coating of blue paint on them. The canvas was still slightly wet. “This artist, she works in here? What if she took the painting you need and begins a new one?” Renard’s eyes flared. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.

She has to have the painting. I tried to get into her place, but the police were there, and then some other people were there early this morning. I haven’t been able to get in.” If it was true, Alexei might still salvage this little mission. “This artist, she live close to here?”

Renard sagged, obviously pleased to have a few more moments of life left. His eyes were sparked with wild hope. “Yes, Jennifer lives on Good Latimer. I’ll take you there. That has to be where the painting is. I know it. I just know it. We might have to wait until the place is empty.”

Ivan smiled. “I will take care of anyone in our way.” But forty minutes later, Ivan neatly and efficiently took care of the only person in their way. Ivan slit Renard’s throat. It was quiet, and they weren’t worried about clean. The shag carpet beneath their feet was old, but quickly soaked up the blood.

There wasn’t a single painting in the apartment Renard had led them to. Alexei looked around. It was obvious to him that an artist lived here. There were easels and unframed, unpainted canvases.

There were half-used tools and oil paints all over the kitchen table.

There were brushes in a can in the bathroom. The whole bathroom smelled of chemicals.

“The boss is not going to like this.” Now that the mark was dead, Ivan shifted back to Russian.

Alexei followed suit. “He will be very angry.” Ivan started looking through the artist’s kitchen. “I need to find a good butcher knife. Pushkin will want us to at least bring back the head. I hate these international jobs, Alexei. It’s gotten so hard to get a decapitated head through an American airport. How much cash do you have? We will need to bribe someone.” He felt his deep groan rumble from his chest. This was a nightmare. “Pushkin will be even angrier we spent his cash on bribes, which is why we should attempt to offer him an alternative.”

“And what is that?”

Alexei glanced around the room. It was obvious the woman had left in a hurry. This woman either knew where the painting was, or knew who took it. He needed to find this woman, this Jennifer. There was an answering machine blinking by the phone. Curious, Alexei pushed the button. A cheery female voice came on.

“This is Jen. I’m not here, or I’m off in la-la land, so leave me a message.” There was a long beep and then another soft, feminine voice.

“Jen, it’s Callie. I can’t tell you happy I am Stef tracked you down, though I’m so sorry about the whole jail thing. Nate is coming to get you. You might not even get this message, but if you do, know that Zane and I will be waiting at the airport in Alamosa. I can’t wait to see you. I’m so happy you’re coming home. Bliss isn’t the same without you.”

“What is this Bliss?” Ivan asked.

Alexei looked around. “It is a place, I think. This Alamosa is where the artist has gone, and I think she took her canvases with her.

Perhaps she doesn’t know.”

“Or maybe she does and I have more work to do.” Ivan sounded like a man anticipating a treat.

Alexei stared down at the only framed picture in the whole house.

It was of two young women and an older female. There was a tall brunette with lovely, slender features. He would bet she was the artist.

There was a shorter but equally pretty woman with dark hair. The older woman was a blonde. She wore a shirt with dangling fringe, and a red cowboy hat sat atop her puffy hair.

He read the marking on the shirt the slender brunette wore.

Stella’s Café – Bliss, Colorado

If he was the smart man who managed to track down the painting Pushkin wanted, the boss would have to thank him personally. That would be the moment that Alexei avenged his brother.

“Call Pushkin. Tell him we are going to Colorado.”

Chapter Five

Jen shivered as the door to the jet was opened and the February air hit her. She pulled Stefan’s coat around her. She turned to look at him. He was wearing a dress shirt and slacks. He must have been freezing, but the minute she began to shrug out of his coat he sent her a look colder than the wind outside. Jen stuck her tongue out at him and buttoned up the coat.

“Very mature, Jennifer,” Stef murmured as he gestured for her to go first.

She felt her spirit sag. That was the crux of their problems. He thought she was too young for him. It wasn’t like he was some old guy. He wasn’t even ten years older than she was. It also wasn’t like she’d asked him for marriage. She’d been in love with him. That didn’t necessarily lead to marriage. She’d seen her mother fall in and out of love. She had never pushed Stef for anything more than friendship and some sex. He seemed to think she was too young even for that.

Jen stood at the top of the stairs and looked down. One lone figure stood on the tarmac holding a handmade sign that said Welcome Back, Felon.

Callie Sheppard grinned as she held her sign up, and Jen felt tears fill her eyes.

“She missed you,” Nate said from behind her.

For the first time she thought about what she’d done when she’d snuck away from Bliss. She had meant to leave behind Stef and all their problems, but she’d done more than that. She’d left Callie and Stella and Rachel and Laura. She’d walked out on Mel and the Harper twins, and Zane and Nate. Tears flowed freely now as she took her wobbly first step down the staircase. She’d left the only place that had ever felt like home because she’d been too embarrassed to see Stef again.

Maybe he was right. Maybe she was too young. And maybe, just maybe, it was time to grow up.

Jen took hold of herself and rushed down the steps. She didn’t stop until she threw her arms around Callie.

“Hey!” Callie said. She dropped her sign. Her arms quickly enveloped Jen. “Hey, it’s okay, sweetie. It’s going to be okay. Don’t you worry about a thing. You’re home now.” Jen felt Callie smooth down the back of her hair, and she cried.

She didn’t care that everyone was watching. Now that she was standing here, she knew Callie was right. Everything would be fine because she was home.

“I’m sorry,” Jen managed after a moment. “I should never have left the way I did.”

“It’s okay,” Callie said softly. “You’re back now. That’s what matters.”

And that was Callie in a nutshell, Jen thought. Callie would never hold it against her. She would never withhold her affection. Her heart was open.

She felt another hand on her back, and she looked up at the sheriff. Nate Wright’s eyes were far softer now, and he nodded down at her.

“Callie’s right. It’s going to be okay. We won’t let you go back to jail. Stef is already working on getting the charges dropped. Let’s get the car and get out of this weather.” Jen took a step back, and Callie went on her toes trying to press her lips against her husband’s. Nate’s gloved hand came out to stop her. Callie’s lips made a little O.

“No can do, baby.” Nate shook his head as he stared down at her.

Callie pouted. Her hands went to her hips. She was drowning in a parka, her small, curvy body completely covered by her coat. “What did I do?”

“It wasn’t you. It was Stef,” Jen supplied, saving Nate the trouble.

“He needs his fake girlfriend again, and he doesn’t care that she’s already double married.”

Callie’s brown eyes widened. “What are you talking about? Oh my, Sebastian! And Stef! Why didn’t you call? And what are you doing without a coat?”

Callie stalked toward the plane where the Talbot men were disembarking. Jen stared at Nate. He had some explaining to do.

“Okay, where’s the big guy? I know you two have something awful cooked up for Stef.” There was no way Nathan Wright allowed his wife to be used in some cover-up.

A little smirk crossed Nate’s face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, darlin’. I’m just helping out an old friend. I am a very patient and tolerant man.”

“Since when?” The only person less patient than Nathan Wright was Max Harper. Nate was a notorious hard-ass, and the last thing Jen would expect him to do would be to allow his wife to pose as another man’s girlfriend.

One shoulder came up negligently. “You know this whole threesome thing works on several levels for us. It takes two men to keep Callie out of trouble, but more than that, I can always count on Zane to do the right thing.”

Jen listened to Nate talk, but her eyes were on Stef and Callie. She felt a sick pit of jealousy form in her gut as Stef wrapped his arms around Callie. She knew that it was all for show. She could see Stef whispering to her, probably begging her to play along, but it still hurt.

Callie was good enough to show off. Callie was sweet enough to bring home with him. She doubted Stef had told anyone about the night they had shared. Callie might be a fake girlfriend, but Jen doubted it hurt worse than being the dirty little secret.

Stef was talking to his father, his arm firmly around Callie’s waist as she twisted her head around slightly. Her brown eyes were questioning as she looked back at Nate. The sheriff merely gave her a hearty thumbs-up, and she shrugged and turned back around to talk to Sebastian Talbot.

It was at that moment that Jen noticed big, gorgeous Zane walking down the tarmac, two Styrofoam mugs of coffee in his hands. Zane Hollister was roughly six and a half feet tall. His beautiful face bore some scars from his time as a DEA agent, but he was heavenly looking to Jen. She’d always wanted to paint him. It would be a challenge to get his spirit just right. He was an intoxicating mix of rough man and vulnerable boy. But now he looked like an angry bull.

He stopped in the middle of the tarmac, and his mouth dropped open.

Jen followed his line of sight back to where Stef was leaning over, placing a light kiss on Callie’s lips.

Nate sighed, satisfaction plain in his stance. “You see, I can be the good guy in this situation. I can say, sure, use my wife the way you have for years. Don’t worry about me. I don’t mind. I can say all of that, because I know that Zane will do the right thing.” Apparently, in Nate’s mind, the right thing was to toss down his coffees and run toward the man horning in on his wife. Stef turned around just in time to get tackled. Jen rushed toward the fight.

“Zane, you get off of him right now!” Callie shouted at her husband.

“You fucking overgrown ape, stop hitting me!” Stef tried to push Zane off.

“You get off my son, sir!” Sebastian’s back stiffened, and he looked at Callie. “Call the police, dear.”

“The sheriff is standing right over there laughing his ass off, Mr.

Talbot,” Jen said. She looked down at Stef, who was trying to give as good as he got. She had to give him that. For a rich boy, he knew how to fight dirty.

“Zane Hollister, stop beating up my best friend.” Callie’s booted foot stomped in the snow.

Zane got Stef in a choke hold. “Not on your life, babe. He kissed you. We took sacred vows to never allow another man to get close enough to kiss you. Right, Nate?”

Nate was all smiles now. “That’s right, buddy. You do what you have to do.”

“Asshole,” Stef managed to wheeze out. He pulled his elbow out and caught Zane squarely in the gut. “I won’t forget this when your next contract is up. Don’t think I won’t talk to the mayor about finding a new sheriff.”

“Good luck with that, Stef. No one wants the job except Nell.

She’s threatened to run against me. Other than that, you got nothing.” Callie pulled at her dark-haired husband. “Zane, you get off him right this instant. I’m invoking the note clause in our marriage contract.”

Zane popped up in an instant, his face a storm of pent-up rage.

“Fine. I’ll go bring the car around, but his ass is walking, and if you ever touch my wife with your lips again in a non-brotherly fashion, I’ll kick your ass even harder.”

Zane stomped away, leaving Callie shaking her head as she lent Stef a hand. Jen brushed the snow off his back.

“Note clause?”

Nate frowned. “Yeah, every time we do something she doesn’t like she points to the note we wrote when we left her. She saved it.

She framed it and put it on the wall by the door, and she’s threatened grave bodily harm if we take it down. She uses it like a sledgehammer filled with guilt.”

“I merely remind the boys of the poor choices they once made.” Callie turned to Stef. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” His gray eyes narrowed as he looked at Nate. “You planned that.”

“I have no control over Zane’s actions, man.” Nate turned and followed his partner.

“So, Callie isn’t your girlfriend anymore?” Sebastian was looking between them all as though desperately trying to figure out what was going on.

“I was never really his girlfriend, Sebastian,” Callie said, her voice a sad little sigh. “I’m sorry I misled you. Stef has always been more of a brother to me than anything else.”

“And now that…large, rather brutish fellow is your husband?”

“His name is Zane.” She sighed again, this one a dreamy sound.

“Stef introduced us. He introduced me to Nate, too. They are the best husbands a girl could have. Don’t let their rough exteriors fool you.

They’re sweeties. I should probably go and make sure they don’t leave Stef behind. It’s a long way to Bliss.” Sebastian’s eyes stared at a place right below Stef’s face. “So you hid this from me? Callie got married, and you never told me you broke up?”

“I was never with Callie,” Stef admitted. His whole body was shaking.

Jen got close, and he shoved his arms under hers, wrapping himself under the coat she was wearing and rubbing his body against hers. “Hey!”

“It’s my damn coat. You can share.” His beautiful face was stark, and his lips were turning just a little blue.

Damn him. She couldn’t resist that slightly quivering lip. She pushed her body against his, sharing her warmth. But she wasn’t just going to lie down and give it up for him. She’d done that. Jen wrapped her arms around Stef, but turned to Sebastian. “He’s been lying to you because he didn’t want you to find out the truth.” Stef’s father’s face fell, and a chalky whiteness took over his skin.

“Stefan, you have to know that you’re my son no matter what. I’ll still love you.”

“I never knew you loved me in the first place,” Stef managed to chatter.

A slight flush permeated Sebastian’s skin. “Of course I do. You’re my son. Just because you’re…well, nothing changes that.” There was a long pause. “Is it, well, is it one of those boys?” Stef shivered in her arms, and he planted his face in her shoulder.

“What is he talking about, and can you make him stop?” But Jen had an idea, and it made her giggle. “Which boys are you talking about, Mr. Talbot?”

He pulled his wool peacoat around his slender frame. “Those Harper boys he was always around. I suppose I always knew deep down. He talked about them all the time. I couldn’t get him away. I thought it was about Callie, but now I can see the truth. I just don’t see why he wouldn’t admit it. I’ve never been one to hold a person’s sexuality against them. Talbot Industries offers life partners insurance and benefits. Why would my own son lie? Unless…oh, no, it’s that Max fellow, isn’t it? Oh, my son, you can do better than him.” Stef’s head came up, and he stared down at Jen. His eyes closed briefly as though in terrible pain, and then those gorgeous gray orbs were piercing into her. “Does he think what I think he thinks?” A little bit of glee lit her heart. “I think he thinks you love Max.” Stef turned to his father, his face turning red despite the cold.

“Damn it, Dad! I am not Max’s gay lover. Max is married.” Sebastian sighed, his relief a palpable thing. “Okay. I can handle Rye. He’s a nice young lad.”

“I’m not with Rye, either! He’s married, too. I am not gay.” Jen tried to contain her giggle, but it was hard when his whole body was quivering, and he seemed to be trying to crawl into her. He looked like a little boy arguing with his dad. She’d never seen Stef look so open. “I can vouch for the ‘not gay’ part, Mr. Talbot. I know for a fact that Stef Talbot is one hundred percent capable of sleeping with a girl. He just needs to tie her up and spank her a little bit first.”

“Jennifer!”

She shrugged. “Do you deny it?”

“TMI, Jennifer. TMI.” He frowned down at her before burying his face in her hair. His breath was warm against her ear. “You’re under my authority now, love. I have the papers to prove it. I’ve been indulgent to this point, but now you’re racking up the punishment time.”

Now she didn’t need the coat. Her whole body flushed with the memory of what it felt like to be punished by Master Stefan. Then he shivered again, and the moment was lost.

“Where the hell is Zane with the car?” Sebastian’s mouth was open as he watched his son. “Perhaps I should have come much sooner. We’re going to have to talk about this, Stefan. I didn’t raise you to spank people.” Stef groaned in her ear and burrowed further as though he could escape into her skin.

When Zane pulled the SUV around, Stef pushed her into the back, making sure she was in between him and his father. The two men stared at each other over her head the whole hundred miles from Alamosa to Bliss.

* * *

Two hours later, Stef was back in fighting form, and Jen sort of wished they could go back to that delicious moment when he needed her body heat and her support. The minute Zane turned into the Talbot estate’s drive, he’d sat up and held himself away from her. He’d gone from needy little boy to the distant Dom she’d tried so hard to get to know. He’d neatly and efficiently packed everyone into separate rooms as he and Nate filled Zane in on what was going on with her.

She figured she should have been in on that meeting, but apparently her voice wasn’t required. She heard them in the study talking to someone over the conference phone. It sounded like Finn Taylor explaining what legal maneuvers he was planning. Jen simply let Callie lead her to a big, brightly decorated room that contained all the stuff Stef had packed up from her apartment. There was a suitcase of her clothes and some of her sketchbooks.

“He was really upset when you left,” Callie said as she opened the drapes and let in some of the most beautiful light Jen had ever seen.

“Really? Because the way we left things, I thought he would be thrilled.” Jen didn’t like to think about the morning she’d left.

Sometimes she couldn’t help it, and it played over and over in her mind like a bad movie. Of course at night when she was asleep, she dreamed about making love with Stef. She couldn’t help it. In her dreams he took her over and over. He spanked her to warm her up and then made love to her like a starving man.

Callie blinked behind her glasses. “I don’t know what happened between the two of you. I just know he was really upset. I know Stef.

He was far too quiet, and he retreated into his studio for two weeks after you left. He barely said a word to anyone.”

“He was just feeling a little guilty.”

“I don’t think so,” Callie said. “But I’m not going to be able to convince you.”

There was a brief knock on the door that saved her from Callie’s further explanations. Jen opened the door expecting to see Stef. She was surprised at the large, lovely man inhabiting her doorway. His hair was cut startlingly short, but Jen could see it was reddish. His face was an intriguing mixture of craggy lines and lovely features.

“Hello, did Stef send me a toy?”

He frowned, his brows making a neat V in his forehead. “No. I’m a doctor.” He looked past Jen to Callie. “Is this one of those patients, Callie?”

Callie laughed. “No, Caleb. She’s just extremely sarcastic. Jen, this is Dr. Caleb Burke. He’s the new town doctor. Stef brought him in for Rachel’s birth.”

Jen noticed he was carrying a large, battered leather bag. He strode into the room like he owned the place. He set his bag down and shrugged out of the thick parka he was wearing. The doc worked out.

That much was plain.

“Don’t forget all the people who get shot around here. For such a small town, you deal with a lot of trauma. I wasn’t here for the last two shootouts, but I have an emergency plan for the next one.” Jen had seen the effects of the last little emergency that happened in Bliss. Mel and Nate had gone to the hospital. Before that, both Max and Rye had been injured. “Hopefully we’ve seen the last violence for a while.”

The doc slapped his hands together. “Nope. Place like this is a magnet. Bad things will always happen, and I’m going to be ready for it.”

Callie nodded and gave the doc a smile. It was the same smile she gave Mel when placating him. “Caleb is a great believer in preparedness. He made the whole town act out a scenario where the town was taken over by armed gunmen. Nell and Henry decided to protest and…”

“Nell and Henry got shot. Protesting won’t stop an armed gunman. Kevlar. That’s what you need, and a damn fine plan of action.”

Caleb Burke had his hands on his lean hips, looking down at Jen like a drill sergeant with a new recruit.

Jen turned to Callie. “Tell me Nell and Henry are still in one piece.”

Callie waved off the concern. “He used paint guns. It was fine.

Henry was surprisingly mouthy for a dead guy. The big problem was that Mel was late, and Caleb used green paint.” Jen knew exactly where this was going. “Aliens have green blood.”

“Yup. Mel freaked out. Guess you weren’t so prepared for that, were you, doc?” Callie asked with a smile.

Caleb had the good grace to look slightly apologetic. “It wasn’t bad. I took out Mel with a tranq gun. He was fine. Now, let’s get on with it. If you’ll take off your clothes, we’ll get started.” Jen took a small step back, because the man didn’t look like he was joking. “Excuse me?”

“Stef brought in the doc to give you a physical,” Callie explained.

“He’s worried someone broke you in prison. He’s got a shrink coming in next week to help you with the trauma.”

“I was only in jail for a day. What does he think happened to me?” Caleb coughed a little. “Well, any number of things can happen to an incarcerated person. Dehydration, injuries due to violent acts, staph infections.” He leaned in, his voice going low. “Sexual injuries. You don’t have to be afraid or embarrassed. I’ve seen it all.”

“OMG, I was in lockup for twenty-four hours in the Dallas County Jail, not lost in some third world country. I’m fine. They gave me water. I didn’t even have time to acquire a girlfriend. Tell Stef to stuff it.” She turned to Callie. “I am hungry, though. They tried to give me bologna.”

Callie shuddered as she grabbed their coats. “We should go to Stella’s for lunch, then.”

“Hey, I have a job to do here.” Caleb got between her and the door.

Callie patted his chest. “I wouldn’t, Caleb, sweetie. She’s like Rachel.”

Caleb paled slightly and backed down. “Okay, then. Um, well, if you need anything or, you know, start to remember stuff like torture, call me. You know, post-traumatic stress can hit you when you least expect it.”

“He’s insane,” Jen stated as they walked out the door.

Callie pointed toward the snowmobiles on the lawn. “You expected different? He was the best we could get. He’s a damn fine surgeon, and he’s feeling his way as a general practitioner. He used to work at a big hospital in Chicago, but something happened and, well, let’s just say Caleb knows where of he speaks when he talks about post-traumatic stress disorder. You should see him get together with Mel. Caleb is sure Mel is repressing trauma that happened while in the military, and Mel is certain Caleb’s been probed.”

“Nice,” Jen said, hopping on the back of the snowmobile.

“They’ve gotten to be really good friends.” Callie gunned the engine and headed toward Stella’s.

Chapter Six

“What the hell do you mean he’s dead?” Stef heard himself shouting, but he couldn’t help it.

Finn Taylor’s voice was perfectly smooth over the speaker. “The police were called out to Ms. Waters’ complex when the movers Stef sent got there to finish cleaning out her apartment. The police entered and found a Caucasian male aged thirty-five with his throat slit from ear to ear in the living room. One of the detectives called to the scene remembered Renard from the day before. His receptionist made the official identification. Jean Claude Renard is dead.” Stef felt his stomach churn. This was trouble. It had started out as bad trouble, but this was much worse than he expected.

Nate sat back in his chair, crossing one booted foot over his knee.

He looked every inch the lawman he was. “Do the police have any idea what Renard was doing in Jennifer’s apartment? We locked up after we left.”

There was a little sigh. “Gentlemen, this crime is so fresh I have very little information about it. The only reason I know what I know is my partner’s extremely good relationship with the chief of police.” Stef snorted. That was a delicate way of putting it. Julian Lodge probably had more dirt on the chief of police than he could imagine.

Owning Dallas’s most exclusive sex club put Lodge in a position of power. None of which would help Jen if Stef himself couldn’t keep her safe.

“Do the police know the time of death?” Zane asked. Zane sat in the office with Stef and Nate, their previous fight forgotten after Stef had promised to keep his lips far from Callie. Though the big guy annoyed Stef on occasion, he was a close friend. Despite his current profession of bar owner, Stef knew he’d been a damn good cop at one point in time.

“Yes, they estimate that Renard was killed at approximately ten o’clock this morning.”

“So, just as our plane was taking off for Colorado, Renard was getting offed by someone.”

There was a new voice added to the crowd. “The wounds, were there any hesitation marks?”

Stef looked up to see Caleb Burke in the doorway. The former trauma surgeon was staring at the speaker as though it was a person he was talking to.

“Um, I don’t know. Give me a second.” Taylor’s side of the conversation was put on hold.

“You think it’s a pro?” Zane asked, looking at the doc.

Caleb’s head jerked slightly in the affirmative. Stef was getting used to the doctor’s somewhat odd mannerisms. He was an excellent doctor, if a bit too thorough for some of his patients’ tastes.

“What makes you think that?” Stef asked, dreading the answer.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he’d been praying this was all a huge mistake. He’d hoped that Renard had damaged the painting and was too much of a coward to own up to it. It wouldn’t be the first time a wealthy man set up one of his employees to take the fall. Stef could solve that problem. He would throw money at PIs until they dug up enough crap on Renard to get him to back his ass down. This was something different.

“It takes a lot of strength to slit a throat,” Caleb said, his voice hard and distant. “It’s not like cutting a piece of cake. There’s skin and muscle and sinew. To do it right and kill instantly, you have to cut to the bone. It takes power and practice to really learn how to slit a throat.”

“So we’re not talking about some random robber or an angry girlfriend?” Stef asked.

Nate shook his head. “Nope. He’s right. Whoever did this wanted it to be quiet and quick. He knew there wasn’t anyone in the apartment, and he wasn’t worried about someone walking in. Shit, our prints are all over the place. You’ll need to come with me. Logan can print you. Mine are in the database. They’ll need to eliminate us.” There was a little hiss as the speaker came back on. “Okay, I just talked to the officer in charge. There’s good news, and there’s bad news.”

“Give me the bad news.”

“The police searched Renard’s apartment and didn’t find the painting. They also didn’t find it at Jennifer’s house when they executed the search warrant yesterday.” Well, that was too much to hope for. “And the good?”

“It looks like Renard was involved with some very industrious people from Columbia.”

Caleb’s hands slapped together. “That would explain it. Those Colombians like their guns, but they know how to slit a throat.” Stef found himself looking to Nate and Zane for confirmation.

They both nodded in agreement.

“That’s excellent news,” Nate said.

Zane sat back. “That’s a load off my mind.” The other three men seemed very satisfied by the news that Jen was involved with someone who had a Colombian drug lord after him. “And this is good why?”

There was a little laugh from the Dallas end of the phone.

“Because it means it’s over, Mr. Talbot. The police here are theorizing that Renard stole the painting himself to pay for his coke habit. They found a kilo in his apartment. Apparently his supplier thought he was scamming and took care of the situation. The police believe that he tried to convince them Ms. Waters had the painting, and they killed him when they couldn’t find it. That painting is probably on its way to Bogota as we speak.”

Stef felt an enormous weight lift off his shoulders. “And the charges against her?”

“Well, I might have a solution to that as well,” Taylor said smoothly. “Renard was never the one who pressed charges. He convinced the owner of the painting that Jennifer had taken it. Given the evidence he managed to manufacture, it isn’t any wonder the owner believed him. I happen to know this couple, and they are big collectors of contemporary art. I think a simple explanation, a donation to the college where they endow a chair, and a Talbot original might go a long way to getting them to drop the charges. I think the charges will be dropped anyway, but this would speed up the process.”

“Done.” Stef didn’t hesitate for a second. The faster he got Jennifer out of this mess, the faster they could move on with their lives. “Set up the deal. Let me know when it’s done.” After a moment of wrap-up, Stef shut the connection down. He breathed a huge sigh of relief. It was done. She was safe. The charges would be dropped.

There wasn’t any reason she shouldn’t go back to Dallas.

The rolling sensation in his gut was back.

“Poor guy, he’s got it bad,” Zane said to his partner, a smirk on his face.

Caleb looked between the two men. “Stef has a thing for the brunette? Is that why he wanted me to give her the full House treatment?”

They were worse than gossipy old women. “I asked you to check out Jennifer because she’s been through a traumatic experience. She was in prison, for god’s sake.”

Nate snickered. “Yep, he’s got it bad.” Stef chose to ignore him. “Is she all right? I know you couldn’t have gotten the blood tests back yet, but does she seem to be okay?”

“Oh, she wouldn’t let me touch her. I think she’s fine.” Caleb leaned against the wall, a frown on his face.

“I don’t pay you to think. I pay you to know.”

“Yeah, you don’t pay me all that much, anyway. Look, the girl didn’t want to get examined. She wanted some lunch. It’s a good sign that she has a healthy appetite. I wouldn’t worry about it. If she starts showing signs of stress, give me a call.” Stef shook it off. At least she was safe under his roof. Though not for long. “Gentlemen, I hope you can keep this conversation between the four of us. Nothing has been settled yet. Until the charges are dropped, Jennifer is still technically under my custody.”

“He’s afraid she’ll bolt,” Zane said.

Stef really wished he’d punched the asshole harder. “Are you going to keep quiet or not?”

“Sure,” he replied. “It would make Callie sad if she left. I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

“I’m quiet as the grave,” Nate offered.

They all looked back at the doctor. “I don’t care enough to say anything.”

“Excellent.” The day was looking up. She was here. She was safe.

Now he had to figure out what the hell that meant, but he had time to do it now. Of course, Jen wasn’t his only problem. His second problem walked through the door. Sebastian Talbot wore a worried expression, his hands full of objects Stef immediately recognized.

“Stefan, I went out to inspect the guesthouse. It’s not drafty at all, but there is a problem. What on earth have you gotten yourself into? I don’t know what half these things are. Are you aware that you have a large cross attached to the wall out there? What are all those hooks for?”

Stef felt his head start to pound.

His father dropped the plethora of sex toys he held in his hands onto the desk. “Is this some strange art thing?” He picked up a large plastic plug. “It’s not your best work, son.”

“Sir, that’s an anal plug,” the doctor in the room offered in the same no-nonsense tone he used to explain chicken pox to worried mothers. “It’s a sex toy, and a rather large one. You might want to start with something a little smaller. And you should make sure you use plenty of lubricant before you use that.” His father went white. Nate and Zane laughed like loons.

Stef let his head hit the desk and prayed the room would open up and swallow him whole.

* * *

“So, are you fellas here for the Winter Festival?” Alexei looked up at the innkeeper. He wore a small badge that proclaimed him to be named Gene. He seemed to be the owner of the Bliss Movie Motel. It was on the outskirts of a sleepy little mountain town. What he’d seen so far was lovely. Still, he wasn’t here to take in the scenery. He was here to get the painting and then use it to get close to Pushkin. Then he would most likely be dead. No, he shouldn’t waste his time on scenery no matter how lovely it was.

Ivan shoved an elbow in his side. “He called this winter. That is very funny.”

Gene smiled at them, his face completely open. “Wow. Now that is cool. Where are you fellas from? You gotta tell me.” He pointed to a globe behind the desk. It was covered in pushpins. “See, I have this globe so I can keep track of all the places the people who stay with us come from. It’s a small world, really.” Ivan snorted. Alexei knew he would see this Gene’s little globe as childish. And yet Alexei found himself staring at that globe. All of those brightly colored pins represented another person who had come to this town from far-off places. Places he would never see.

And his brother hadn’t seen them either, would never see them because Pushkin killed him. That was what mattered.

“We are be coming from Belarus,” he heard himself saying.

“That is just neat,” Gene commented as he pulled out a purple pin and stuck it in Belarus. “We don’t get many people from your part of the world. What’s it like there?”

“It stink of fish,” Ivan said, giving Alexei a dirty stare. Ivan hated Belarus. It was why Alexei had chosen it.

“Oh,” Gene said. He looked from man to man, his eyes narrowing as though he was finally understanding something was off.

Alexei couldn’t have that happen. He gave the man a broad smile.

“Forgive my brother. He is, how you say, a pooper on parties. We are very happy to be in this country. So beautiful.” He leaned in and gestured back toward Ivan the Sour. “His last girlfriend leave him for fisherman. He has the women’s troubles. You must forgive him.” Ivan growled behind him, but played along.

Gene was back to smiling. He laughed loudly. “I understand that, but, son, it’s woman trouble. He’s got woman trouble. The other way makes it sound likes he’s menstruating.” Alexei nodded, though he had no idea what menstruating meant.

He would have to look it up. If it meant Ivan was difficult and cranky, then it was another word to describe him. “So what is this Winter Festival?”

Gene slid a pair of keys across the table. “Oh, it’s one of the best times of the year. It’s a week of skiing and snowboarding, and there’s a supper at the end of the week and a drawing with all kinds of stuff you can win. The Rep Theater is doing a revue with singing. It’s just a lot of fun. It’s why you’re darn lucky I had a room left. Things fill up quick around this time of year. Here’s a schedule of events. Don’t miss the ice sculpting. We have a guy who carves these gorgeous sculptures with a chain saw. And he’s real careful, too. After he lost his pinky last year, he’s much more careful.”

“This sounds fun,” Alexei said. It sounded like an excellent cover.

With all the citizens of the town mixing with a bunch of tourists, they wouldn’t stand out. Perhaps he could get what he needed without killing the girl. The last thing he wanted was more blood on his hands.

Gene pushed a packet toward him. “Here’s a map of the town.

And a little welcome package. It’s got some fudge from the Trading Post and a menu from Stella’s and a coupon for Trio. Oh, and don’t forget, every night I’m running some great movies. The Drive-In is normally closed this time of year, but I run some movies for the festival. Folks like to huddle under blankets and watch the show. It’s real fun. Just open your window and you can see the screen. Tune the radio to the setting in the instructions for the sound. And first bag of popcorn’s on me.”

Ivan huffed and picked up the keys. Alexei said good-bye to Gene and followed him outside. The snow was falling lightly, giving the entire world a gauzy feel. Mountains surrounded the valley on three sides. Somehow the sky seemed bigger here than it did at home. He stared at the mountains in the distance.

“This is not winter,” Ivan complained in Russian. “This is a light spring breeze where I come from.”

Since Ivan came from a dunghill close to the Arctic Circle, he was probably right.

“Why are we checking into this place?” Ivan asked. “We should walk back in there, put a gun to the innkeeper’s head, and make him tell us where this girl is.”

“And then?”

Ivan shot him a look that made Alexei know his intelligence was in question. “And then we kill the innkeeper and kill the girl and get the painting.”

“And the American police will just let us stroll out?” Alexei tried to reason with him. Ivan was a barbarian. He was pure muscle with not a thought beyond killing and taking whatever prize he was supposed to get. “This is not Russia. You can’t go around killing people and expect the cops to look the other way.” Ivan followed him when he started walking toward the room. “I don’t see why not. Do police in America not appreciate money? We pay them and they look the other way.”

Alexei found the room and shoved the key in. “I don’t think it will work here. The media is different. No one will care if we kill Renard.

He was a pathetic drug addict. If we kill this Gene, someone will care.

If we kill the girl, someone will care. These Americans are addicted to justice. Have you not watched their television?” Ivan sniffed. “No. I am not as interested in what goes on at the Jersey Shore as you are. I say no one will care if I kill all of those people. I will probably get a medal for killing the short orange one.” Ivan dropped his bag beside the bed. He tossed his body down. “I will take this side. Wake me when it is time to kill someone.” He was asleep, snoring like a bear, almost instantly. It was a skill of his. He could sleep anywhere.

Alexei, on the other hand, barely slept at all. The minute he dropped off he saw his brother’s bloody face. He saw how still his brother’s body was. It was hard now to remember that his brother had always laughed and smiled. His brother had been the one to tell him stories about what their lives would be like when they finally got to America. They would find good jobs and good women. Alexei had been nine and wasn’t terribly interested in the women, but he wanted to play for an American hockey team. That had been his dream.

It had shattered in an instant when one of Pushkin’s thugs decided to make an example of his beloved older brother. He’d found a new dream that day. He would grow strong and kill the man responsible for his brother’s death. He’d managed to quietly kill the thug who had pulled the trigger, but Pushkin was the one he wanted.

And he would have him.

Alexei walked back outside. He dragged cold air into his lungs.

Damn, but his brother would have been fascinated by this place. He would have talked all afternoon with the Gene person, asking him questions about the town and the people Gene had met. Mikhail had never met a stranger.

Alexei found his feet moving toward the front office. It wouldn’t hurt to talk to the man. He could find out more about the town. He was supposed to be a tourist. He would be a friendly tourist. Friendly tourists talked to people. His stomach growled. Maybe he would go to the diner after he talked to Gene.

Yes, he decided, it couldn’t hurt. Getting to know these people wouldn’t change anything.

Chapter Seven

Jen pushed through the glass door of Stella’s diner and was welcomed by a nice blast of heat. She shook off the cold, dragging the parka over her shoulders and hanging it up on one of the hooks on the wall. A sense of nostalgia nearly overwhelmed her. She’d worked in this little diner for a year and a half. Though she’d had a ton of jobs before she’d waitressed at Stella’s, this was where she had been the happiest. Jen was shocked at the way tears filled her eyes.

Why the hell had she left?

Two arms wrapped around her, enfolding her in a sympathetic embrace. Callie was always quick with a hug, always seemed to know when she needed one and never held back. “Oh, sweetie, it’s all right.”

“I left her.” Jen’s heart clenched. She bit back a sob. She was in the middle of the diner. It was after the lunch rush, but the place was still packed. And she didn’t care. “She gave me a job and took care of me, and I didn’t even say good-bye.”

A throaty voice broke through Jen’s misery. “Well, I figured Stef did something to make you run, baby girl. I just wish you would have written to let me know you were okay.” Jen turned to see Stella Benoit standing at the counter. She was a forty-something bottle blonde who wore far too much makeup. She was entirely beautiful to Jen’s mind. Stella had given her so much more than a job. She’d given her a home and a place where she could be who she wanted to be.

“I’m sorry.” It was the only thing Jen could think to say.

Stella’s eternal helmet of blonde hair nodded. “All right then, sweetie. You come and sit down. I’ll get you a nice cup of coffee.

You want some food?”

“I would love a burger. I haven’t had a decent burger since I left,” Jen said, a huge weight off her shoulders. Stella wasn’t tossing her out. She had Callie at her side. She might be able to come home after all.

Suddenly Dallas seemed so far away, and the fight she’d had with Stef seemed a silly reason to have left her home. She’d done what she’d been taught to do. She left when the going got a little rough. It was what her mother had done. Every time her artist mother had broken up with a boyfriend or gotten into financial trouble, she would move on to the next city. It would be better in Denver or Cleveland or Miami, she would say.

Life would never be better than she’d had it in Bliss, Jen knew.

She could run as far as she liked, but this was her home.

“You have to stop, or you’re going to make me cry,” Callie said, her hands brushing along Jen’s cheeks as she slid into the booth across from her.

“I’m just happy to be back.” A great sense of calm came over her.

She took a deep breath, enjoying the familiar smells of frying burgers, the piney scent of the cleaner Stella used on the floor, and slightly mangy dog. Jen felt a smile cross her face as she looked down at an old friend. “Hey, Quigley.”

The enormous dog shoved his head under her hand, his not-so-subtle request for attention. Jen obliged and looked around for his owner.

Rachel Harper stood by the dog she’d taken on when she’d married the Harper twins. Rachel was a lovely woman in her early thirties with strawberry blonde hair, pretty green eyes, and a wry smile that let the world know she didn’t take it too seriously. Jen’s eyes caught on the biggest change since the last time she’d seen Rachel. She appeared to have swallowed a beach ball.

“Don’t even say it,” Rachel said with a shake of her head. “Damn, you’re just what I need, another skinny thing in town. Scoot, Callie.” Callie snorted sweetly as she made room for Rachel and her soon-to-be-born kiddo. “Yeah, ’cause you’re not glowing and gorgeous.”

“It’s hard to feel that way when I waddle like a penguin,” Rachel said. She snapped her fingers gently at the dog. “Q, take a load off.” The big mutt lay down on the floor by her feet, his head settling onto his enormous paws, and an audible sigh came from his chest.

“Is there a reason Q is following you around?” Callie asked.

Rachel’s head shook. “Max. He’s making me and Rye crazy, Callie. He’s got Dr. Burke on speed dial, and he watches me like a hawk. You would think I was the first woman to ever give birth.”

“He loves you,” Jen said with a little sigh of her own. Max had been the baddest man around until the day he’d met Rachel.

“Rye loves me, too, but he doesn’t feel the need to know where I am and what my blood pressure is twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. I swear Max wouldn’t let me drive until Rye had it out with him.”

Callie had gone a little white in the face, and suddenly she was staring out at the street.

“Rye is the reasonable one. If I didn’t have him, I don’t know what I’d do.”

Jen shook her head and pointed to Callie. “I don’t think so. She knows something.”

Now Callie’s face flushed, and Jen had to stifle a laugh because her glasses went just the slightest bit foggy. Rachel swung her head around like a predator sensing an easy kill.

“What do you know, Callie Hollister-Wright? You tell me right now.”

Callie’s fingers drummed nervously, and she shot Jen a stare.

“Thanks a lot. Now I’m going to get in trouble. Fine. Rye’s not as reasonable as you think, but he is way sneakier than Max. The reason he’s okay with you driving is that he had a GPS installed on your vehicle. It tracks you, and Nate and Rye both have the codes so they know where you are all the time. That’s why Max backed off.”

“That son of a bitch. I swear if I could get my foot more than three inches off the ground I would shove it up his ass. Reasonable?

He’s…” Rachel’s eyes got watery. “He’s so sweet.” Tears began to fall. “And Max. I love them so much.” Rachel buried her head in Callie’s shoulder and started to cry.

Quigley got off the ground, and suddenly his head was in Rachel’s lap. He whined a little as though he couldn’t stand his mistress’s tears.

“Hormones,” Callie mouthed as she patted Rachel’s hair. “She’ll be fine.”

“Max says I can’t go anywhere without Q. He’s trained the dog to come find him if my water breaks. I spilled a glass of water on the floor the other day, and ten minutes later Max was trying to take me to the hospital. Do you know how crazy you have to be to train your dog like that?”

“Crazy in love,” Callie said soothingly.

Max was crazy in love with his wife. There was no question about that. For Max and Rye, Rachel was the sun in the sky. It didn’t come as a surprise that they felt the need to watch over her every minute of the day. They wanted to know what happened to her. They wanted to be there if she came to harm, to love and protect her. If Rachel had been arrested like Jen had been, they would have been right on the case. Like Stef.

“How did Stef know?” Jen asked. It suddenly struck her that Rye wasn’t the only sneaky bastard. “Nate said something about a PI. I thought someone called because they found his number in my phone.

I didn’t know who to use as next of kin.” Callie continued to soothe Rachel, but her eyes flared briefly before she answered. “I believe he set an army of private investigators on your ass the minute he found out you had left town. He knew you were going to Dallas before the bus stopped in Tulsa.” Damn him. He was so confusing. “Why?”

Rachel’s head came off Callie’s shoulder, and both of them turned to her before glancing back at each other.

“Is she really that stupid?” Rachel asked, her voice going husky.

She picked up a napkin and wiped at her eyes. Q settled back down.

“Yes,” Callie replied, “but I have hope for her. At least she’s finally asking the question.”

Jen shook her head. “He was a jerk to me. He told me he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t have a relationship with me.”

“Yeah, and he probably chose to tell you this after he slept with you.” Rachel’s face was still blotchy from her crying, but a sympathetic look took over. “Men are dumb. So dumb. Not that Max and Rye were. I mean, they’re dumb in other ways, but they knew their hearts. Stef is just dumb.”

Jen looked to Callie. Callie was Stef’s best friend. She had stood by him for years. She was as close to him as a sister. Surely she would defend him.

“He’s also a bit of an ass at times, and Rachel’s right, he’s just dumb as a post when it comes to this.”

“Are we talking about my boy?” Stella asked as she set down three mugs of what looked like hot chocolate. “He’s always behaved like an idiot when it comes to Jennifer. He’s so smooth around those other women he brings into town, but he practically falls all over himself over one of my waitresses. I always knew he had good taste.”

“How can you say that?” Jen asked, completely at a loss. Her world was spinning on its axis and stopping in a completely foreign place. “He ignored me for eighteen months. I begged. I pleaded. And he just said no.”

“And the minute you turned your back he stared at you like a lovesick puppy dog,” Stella explained. “I know that boy. Hell, after his father left I practically raised him. Love him like he was my own.

You are the only woman he’s ever really fallen for, and it scares the crap out of him.”

“Why? It wasn’t like I was playing hard to get. I walked in and practically fell at his feet. I found out about all the pervy things he liked and said, hey, I can do pervy things, too. I bought BDSM books.

I learned the lingo. I was the easiest lay he was ever going to get, and he turned me down. So one of you has to explain how all this rejection equals true love.”

“Do you know Lana O’Malley?” Callie asked.

Jen felt her heart drop. Sure she knew her. Lana O’Malley was gorgeous and loaded. She was a stunning, curvy blonde bombshell.

She was everything a man could want. She never had a hair out of place. She would never be caught dead with oil paint under her fingernails. She was Stef’s sub. God, how could she have forgotten about Lana? Was she still around? Was she the reason he didn’t want his dad in the guesthouse?

“I can see you do,” Callie said with a nod. “He had a training date with her twice a month for the last three years. He hasn’t seen her since the day you walked out.”

Jen felt her mouth drop. Stef took his Dom role seriously. “Why?” Callie’s shoulders came up in a little shrug. “He won’t talk to me about it, but if you ask me, it’s because he was committed elsewhere.”

“Damn it, I’ve never told that man no. Why would he push me away? I slept with him. I gave him everything I had. I told him I loved him. Why did he dump me?”

“His mom,” three voices said in perfect harmony.

“Thanks, that clears up everything.” Jen wanted to pull her hair out. “One of you explain, now.”

Stella scooted in beside Jen, her hand running soothingly across Jen’s as she urged her to take a sip of the cocoa. “Stefan’s mama was very young when she married Sebastian. She was twenty-four, and she wasn’t ready to be a wife or a mother.”

“She was older than me,” Jen said, more to herself than anyone else.

“Yes,” Callie agreed. “I never met her, but I saw a picture of her.

She was really beautiful, a pageant queen. She was Miss Oklahoma or something. She met Stef’s dad and married him within six weeks.”

“And had Stef a year later,” Stella explained, her voice even, though Jen could see her eyes tightening. “I have all of this secondhand, but she didn’t like living in Dallas. She wanted to go to LA and become a movie star. Sebastian wanted a wife. She wanted a sugar daddy. When Stef was five, she left. Sebastian was devastated.

He left Dallas and ended up here for a couple of years. When he went back, Stef stayed. But I think his parents’ divorce wrecked him. It’s not you he’s scared of. It’s the fact that you’re twenty-three, hon. He doesn’t think you know your mind yet.” A whole bunch of things fell into place. Every fight and argument she’d ever had with Stef suddenly had a sheen of clarity. He’d spent time claiming she needed to work on her art rather than chasing around a man. He’d claimed he didn’t have time for her. He’d pushed her away and then pulled her back when there was the slightest hint of danger.

God, he was a dumbass.

And yet she couldn’t be too intelligent since her heart, her stomped-on and busted-up heart, was already softening. It had been burst and broken, and at the slightest sign of hope, it perked up and held out its stupid hands and wanted a hug from the same man who’d damaged it in the first place.

She hadn’t learned anything from her mother, and she never would. Not ever. She’d just keep trying, like her mom had.

“He missed his mom?” Jen couldn’t stand the thought of it. In her mind’s eye she could see him as a child, alone and abandoned. She knew the story. Sebastian had left, and he’d been raised in Bliss. It had turned out fine, but the vision of a lonely boy caused her eyes to water and her mind to race. She remembered all the times she’d told him she just wanted a fling. She’d been lying. She’d thought that once she had him in bed, she could convince him that she was girlfriend material. When he’d turned her down, she’d pouted and ranted and made an ass of herself.

“He would never admit it, but yes, he missed her terribly,” Stella said softly. There was a gleam of moisture in her eyes, but she sniffed it away. “His father made a mess of things because he couldn’t commit after she left. Stef had made friends and wouldn’t go back to Dallas. Sebastian let him stay. He fell for you. You walked out at the first sign of trouble.”

Jen turned quickly. “I left after he told me it would never work. I left after he told me how much he regretted what was the best night of my life.”

Stella nodded. “Yes, you left rather than fight for him or for your life here. You left because you were mad.”

“I left because I was embarrassed.” The truth hit her like a ton of bricks. She hadn’t left to spare him. She hadn’t run out because there was nothing for her in Bliss. Everything she cared about was in this little mountain town, and she’d left it behind to spare herself some momentary embarrassment.

“What were you embarrassed about?” Stella asked, her tone grave, as though the next answer really meant something to her.

Jen felt the tears begin to roll down her cheeks. “I was embarrassed that he couldn’t love me back. I was embarrassed because I knew I would never stop loving him, but I couldn’t make him love me.”

“Oh, baby girl, that is nothing to be embarrassed about.” Stella pulled her close. “Every woman in the world has loved some man who didn’t deserve her. That’s no reason to give up your home and your friends.”

“And it’s not true,” Callie said. “I don’t care what he said. He missed you. Look, Jen, I don’t know what happened that night. He won’t talk about it. I do know that he bought a dozen red roses from Marie and Teeny the next day, and he tossed them in the garbage outside your place when he realized you had left.”

Rachel had tears streaming down her cheeks, too. “Max said Stef has been very enthusiastic in their fistfights since Jen left. It’s a sign that he misses you. So much.” Rachel sobbed into her napkin. “Sorry.

I can’t help it. I don’t care what the doctor says. I think I’m having a litter. There has to be more than one baby. I’m a whale.” Jen couldn’t help it. She laughed through the watery mess of her tears. Something heavy had lifted from her, and it felt good to cry and laugh and just be with these women. It didn’t matter that every tourist in the place was watching them like they were crazy and all the locals were on their cell phones telling the people who weren’t there about the waterworks.

“So Stef is dumb,” Jen said in a rush of joy.

“Very, very dumb,” Callie agreed with a smile.

Dumb she could handle. Jen reached out to pick up her cocoa, but she met Stella’s hand, and the mug spilled off to the side, dripping to the floor.

Q was up and running for the door, his big body hitting it with a force that sent it flying open. Jen got a glimpse of the dog as he ran through the snow.

Rachel pointed to the street beyond the window. “We’ve got about five minutes before Max gets here. He’s at the feed store. Ever since Dennis bought it and turned it into a church on Sundays and started only giving discounts to those who attend services, Max has been on his ass. Better order him a burger, or better yet, call Zane. He might need a beer.”

“Don’t worry about it, hon.” Stella got up and started mopping up the mess. “Hal keeps a bottle of whiskey in the back. If that doesn’t work, we can call the doc. I’ve heard he keeps tranquilizer darts around for Mel. I figure they’ll work on Max, too. I like that doctor, I tell you.”

Stella walked off, her boots clanging lightly on the floor.

Callie leaned forward, her elbows on the table. “So, you going after Stef?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? How much did she want him? A whole, whole lot, her heart replied. It was pounding at the thought of going another couple of rounds with Stef.

“I can’t change how old I am.” It was a barrier she would have to find a way around.

Rachel put a hand on her stomach. She looked more peaceful than before. “You just have to push him. He’ll get it through that thick skull in the end. You’re his woman. You just have to prove it.” That, Jen decided, might be easier said than done.

* * *

Alexei had to move quickly to get out of the way of the enormous animal that burst from the small diner’s doors. He thought it was a dog, but it might have been a small bear. It wasn’t the strangest thing he’d seen this afternoon.

This was an odd place, but friendly. The people were very talkative and open. He’d spent much of the hours since he’d left Ivan walking around the town. He’d browsed through the stores with their odd combination of ticky-tack tourist merchandise and gorgeously made works of art. All around him the mountains climbed their way to a gloriously blue sky. Was it any wonder the people here seemed so happy? They were surrounded by beauty. He’d found himself wandering. Up and down Main Street people were out decorating and putting up small booths for the festival that was set to begin the next day. There was a happy hum of energy from the tourists who grabbed ski wear and fuzzy socks with bears on them. This was a good place.

“Hi,” a breathy voice said.

Alexei looked down at the small woman with dark auburn hair.

She was petite with a curvy body that had Alexei’s eyes roaming. His flare of attraction was shoved aside as he read the tight shirt she was wearing. Stella’s Café.

His stomach churned as he remembered he had a job to do.

“Would you like a booth or a table?”

His eyes briefly skimmed her name tag. Holly. Holly was a lovely woman. Luckily, she was not the woman he was looking for.

“I will sit at counter, thank you.” He felt a bit weary as he took a seat at the counter. He’d briefly forgotten himself. He sent Holly a tired smile and ordered a cup of coffee.

“Anything else?” she asked. Her bright green eyes were wide with expectation.

Alexei found he couldn’t disappoint her. She was sweet, and if circumstances had been different, he would try to seduce her. How long had it been since he’d taken a nice girl out? Never, he realized.

His brother had died when he was a teenaged boy. All he had thought about since was revenge. As he climbed up through Pushkin’s organization, the women he’d had access to had mostly been prostitutes or the sort to couple with gangsters. Not a one of them saw past his wallet or his position. Not a one of them had looked at him with wide eyes and a truly soft smile.

“You pick for me?”

Her head cocked a little to the side, and she bit at her bottom lip, causing Alexei to shift uncomfortably in his seat. She was so beautiful.

“Savory or sweet?” Holly asked.

“Sweet.” Definitely sweet. She would be sweet. She would be sweet in his arms. She would make sweet sounds. And her taste, that would be sweet, too. He would bury his face between her legs and lap up all the sweet cream he would draw from her cunt.

She clapped her hands together. “Excellent. Stella makes the best chocolate pie ever! Be right back.”

Alexei took a long, deep breath and tried to get his dick under control. He was always in control. He was on a mission, and that mission had nothing to do with a woman named Holly with soft breasts and wavy auburn hair that would look beautiful spread across a pillow.

There was movement to his left as someone sat down next to him.

Alexei turned to see a man with reddish hair settling into the last chair left at the counter.

“Cup of coffee, please?” the man said.

Alexei sized him up immediately. This man oozed authority.

There was a hard line to his jaw and a stiffness to his bearing, as though he was always ready for something to go wrong, and he would be the one to fix it. Alexei knew it well because he saw it, felt it, every day.

“Sure thing, Caleb,” Holly said, turning around. “You need a menu or just the regular?”

And just like that, the man named Caleb turned into a sputtering mess. “I…yeah, great. Great. Regular sounds good.” Holly shook her head. “I have no idea how you can eat the same thing every day, Doc.” She placed a big piece of pie in front of Alexei. “There you go, big guy. You make sure you tell me how you like that pie. There’s more where that came from, you know.” Alexei bet there was. Holly turned, and Alexei admired the way her ass looked in a pair of jeans. She was not skinny. Those cheeks of hers were round and curvy. He’d like to get his hands on her.

He turned to grab some sugar for his coffee. Cold green eyes stared right through him. The man named Caleb wore a frown that would have intimidated a lesser man. Alexei had sat with a gun at his head, not knowing whether he would live or die on more than one occasion. He found the man’s jealousy amusing.

“I am not trying to steal girl,” he assured the man. “But I am not blind.”

“You could be,” Caleb shot back.

Alexei shrugged. He dug into the pie. Holly had been right. It was excellent. “I don’t see ring on her finger.” Now the man was staring at his coffee. “I didn’t say she was mine.

She’s just a nice girl. She doesn’t need some tourist pawing at her.”

“I will attempt to keep paws to self, but if you want girl, you should take her. She is too lovely to be alone for long.”

“Thanks for the advice, but I think I can handle it.” Caleb turned away, his part in the discussion obviously over.

The door to the café swung open, and Alexei turned to see two boys walk in. They were twins, with dirty blond hair, oversized coats, and hockey sticks. Neither boy looked like he could handle a hockey stick. They were slender, with not an ounce of muscle between them.

They shrugged out of their coats and took a seat in one of the empty booths. Their heads sagged as though the weight was too heavy to carry. Each boy had sad brown eyes. They stared at the tabletop as though it was the only thing in the world.

Holly set Caleb’s mug in front of him. She was staring at the boys as she walked around the counter. She got to one knee, and Alexei knew if the booth hadn’t been so close, he wouldn’t have heard her soft words.

“They wouldn’t let you play again, would they?” Both heads shook.

“Little pricks,” Caleb muttered under his breath.

Alexei was curious enough to risk the man’s wrath. The boys, though American and twins, somehow reminded him of himself at that age. There was something in the way their heads hung in disappointment and the way they clutched those sad hockey sticks.

“Those young boys?”

Caleb’s eyes flared as though he’d forgotten he wasn’t alone and was pissed to be reminded. He shook his head as though to clear it, and his voice got low. “Nah, those are the Farley brothers. They’re twelve and flat-out geniuses when it comes to school, but they can’t get the boys from the next town to let them into their hockey game. It must be lonely for them. They’re the only kids their age here in town.”

Alexei turned back, and the kids were accepting comfort from Holly. An older woman with frothy blonde hair and cowboy boots was serving them hot chocolate and ruffling their hair. They seemed like nice kids.

“They are not picked for team?” Alexei asked. “Perhaps they were too many players?”

“Nah, they’re just not very good,” Caleb said with a little snarl.

“Those other kids are jerks because they think Will and Bobby are nerds. They have genius-level IQs and have photographic memories.

You know what a nerd is?”

Alexei searched his brain. “Yes, this is smart person. I do not understand why your country does not like the smart persons. In Russia, these boys will one day make all the money and get all the women. Why does this mean they cannot play hockey? How will they get better if no one will let them play?” He would never have learned if Mikhail had not taken the time to teach him.

“They won’t,” Caleb replied. His mouth became a stubborn line.

“I swear, sometimes I’d like to take those other kids by the throat and teach them what it means to be a bully. But I’m not supposed to do that anymore.”

Alexei slapped him on the back as an idea occurred to him. “Then we should put your anger to the management.” One reddish-brown brow rose. “Excuse me?” He searched for the words. Sometimes English was hard. “We should teach the boys. If they learn, then they play. No one will call them nerd when they learn to put their asses on other boys.”

“God, I hope you meant to say put the other boys on their asses,” Caleb said with a shake of his head.

“If that mean to hurt them in an entirely legal fashion, then yes.

This is what I mean. I am good hockey player. Do you play?”

“Yeah,” Caleb said, his lips curling up a little. “Actually, that sounds like fun. I wouldn’t mind a little practice.” He turned and slipped out of his seat. “Holly, can you get us a thermos of coffee?

Come on, Bobby and Will, the big Russian guy and I are going to teach you how to put the older kids on their asses—I mean butts.” Alexei paid his tab quickly and was rewarded with the twins’

shining faces, and Holly, who looked at him like he was the nicest man alive.

She could never know the things he’d done.

But maybe he could help a couple of kids out.

He followed Caleb and the boys out the door just in time to dodge two men in cowboy hats running for their lives. The large dog he’d seen earlier ran behind them.

“Sorry, mister,” one of them said. “We gotta move. Our wife’s having a baby.”

His English must be really bad, Alexei decided. It almost sounded like they shared a wife. He found that idea entirely entertaining.

“You coming, mister?” one of the young twins asked.

“Sure,” he replied and followed his new friends.

Chapter Eight

Stef strode through the double doors of Trio with one thought on his mind—get Jen and get home. He’d searched all over the fucking town for her. From the moment he’d realized she’d left the house, he’d been looking for her. He’d tried Stella’s, where he’d found out she’d had lunch with Callie and Rachel. He’d moved on to the Trading Post, where Teeny and Marie had admitted they’d talked to her for half an hour about everything that had happened in Dallas, including her unfortunate incarceration. Marie had made it plain that she blamed him. Jen obviously wouldn’t have gotten into trouble if he’d had enough of a brain to marry her. Laura Niles at the Stop’n’

Shop had said roughly the same thing.

How had she left everyone high and dry, but he was the villain?

“This place is new, Stefan. It used to be a hardware store.” And he’d done all of his roaming with his father riding his ass. He wasn’t sure how much worse the day could get.

“Mr. Weldon died back in ’05, and he didn’t have any kids. The place was empty until Callie’s husband decided we needed a bar he didn’t almost get murdered in,” Stef said under his breath as he looked around the little tavern.

It was filled to the brim with tourists. Stef wanted to growl when he remembered the damn Winter Festival started tomorrow. His brain went over all the things he’d promised Callie and Rachel that he would help with. It was a lot. He was supposed to host the final night’s dinner and call out the raffle prizes. Could he get out of that?

Shit. Rachel would probably get upset. A stiff wind was all it took to get her crying these days. He was stuck. That was just what he needed, his whole damn town overrun with strangers while he was trying to keep an eye on Jennifer. Despite what Nate had said, he would feel better when that damn painting turned up.

“Which husband is that? Nathan, or the large, ill-tempered character?” His father glanced around the place with the same enthusiasm he’d shown all day.

Yeah, that was a good way to describe Zane Hollister. “It was the big one, Dad.”

His father’s brows came together in a concerned V. “And you say that Maxwell and Ryan are involved with a single female as well?”

“Yes,” Stefan replied shortly. After the incident he’d started to mentally refer to as Anal Plug Armageddon, his father had all kinds of questions about the relationships in Bliss. He’d been shocked to discover that ménage was rapidly becoming a way of life in the little mountain town.

“But you aren’t sharing Jennifer with someone, are you?” Stef felt his face flush. He reminded himself that he was thirty-two years old, independently wealthy, respected in the art world, and responsible for himself. So why did talking to his father about sex make him feel like he was an eleven-year-old boy who had just gotten caught with a Playboy? Of course, he allowed, when he’d gotten caught with a Playboy, it had been by Stella, who’d given him a stern lecture about respecting women and taken it away. Max and Rye had been so pissed off because it was the only one they had. Two days later, Mel had replaced it. He’d given Stef a lecture, too, to always make sure the women in his pornography were humans.

He had to contain a laugh at the memory. “No, Dad. I’m not even dating Jennifer, much less passing her around to my friends.” And he wouldn’t. Not ever. He loved Max and Rye like brothers.

He felt the same way about Nate, and he’d gotten to where he was rather fond of that Neanderthal, Zane. But he would never understand how they could share the woman they loved.

And he didn’t love her.

A soft, twinkling laugh flitted through the bar. There were so many people talking and laughing, but that one sound had all of Stef’s attention. He could pick Jennifer’s laughter out of a crowd of a hundred thousand.

His father pulled at his coat sleeve. “So you just tie her up? You don’t date her?”

Stef’s back was suddenly ramrod straight as his eyes found her.

She was sitting at the bar with Callie on her right, accepting a glass from Zane. That wasn’t what had his back up. It was the cowboy sitting beside her, his hand possessively resting on her back, mere inches from her perfect ass.

James Glen. He was a rancher who had inherited an enormous spread from his father a few years back. He was twenty-five and a known playboy. He was smiling at Jennifer and leaning in like they were having an intimate conversation. He was tall, dark, and, to Stef’s mind, very much the asshole since he was busy trying to horn in on another man’s woman.

Damn it, he couldn’t think that way. Except that she was his. He’d signed a bunch of paperwork making him responsible for her. Yeah.

She was his. He just didn’t love her, and she wouldn’t be his forever.

He should remember that.

“Stefan,” Sebastian said, his impatience obvious in the tone of his voice. “I asked you a question. I’m trying very hard to understand this lifestyle you seem to have chosen.”

“It isn’t a lifestyle. It’s just who I am, and it’s private,” Stef said on a low growl.

“But I’m your father.”

“No, you are the one who provided the male portion of the DNA that created me.” Stef couldn’t quite keep the cruelty out of his voice.

“Mel was the one who taught me how to shoot a gun, and he was the one who told me about sex. Do you have any idea how difficult a conversation that was? He’s legally insane, but he did it. Stella made sure I had lunch on the weekends when the nanny took off and didn’t bother to bring in a replacement. Callie’s mom took me to the doctor when I was sick. You are not my father, and you have no place in my life. So back off.”

He stalked off. He didn’t look back because he was sure of what he would see. His father’s illness seemed to have brought on some need to bond with the child he’d left behind, but Stef didn’t have the time or patience to deal with him right now. His father had been sick, and he hadn’t bothered to tell him. Why should it mean anything at all to him? His father obviously didn’t need him in any way that counted.

His stomach was in knots. His hands were shaking with the force of his rage.

She thought she could ignore him?

He’d been the one to get her out of jail. He’d been the one to move heaven and fucking earth to get her out of that hellhole, and she was flirting with James Glen, who couldn’t tell a Klimt from a Jasper Johns because he spent all of his time knee-deep in cow crap. He had no interest in who Jennifer Waters was as a person or an artist. He liked her tits, and she was smiling at him. She was giving him her softness.

Stef pushed through the crowded bar. He plowed his way through the tourists and locals who called out his name. His vision tunneled down to just Jennifer. Her generous lips opened, and another long, sexy laugh came out of her throat. She put a hand on James Glen’s forearm as she said something low and seductive.

“Stef, are you okay?” Callie asked.

He barely heard her. He did catch Zane’s smirk.

“No fighting in my bar, Talbot,” Zane ordered.

He’d paid for the damn bar. He should be able to do what he wanted in it. And what he wanted to do was fuck up James Glen’s unlined, pretty-boy face.

“Hey, Glen, you want to move your hand off the girl’s ass?” Stef heard the challenge in his voice. He felt his every muscle go hard and his heart start to pound. Why was he doing this? His rational brain knew he needed a bit of distance between himself and the way-too-young-to-ever-settle-down girl, but the caveman in him wanted that fucker’s hand off his woman’s ass.

James Glen turned, his Stetson moving as though it always sat on his head. “You got a problem, Talbot? I was just welcoming a friend back into town.”

“You bet I have a problem,” Stef spat.

Jen looked back at him. “What’s wrong with…” She stopped, and a little smile curled on her lips. She forcibly removed James Glen’s hand from her waist. Her smile was wry as she looked back at him.

“Better, babe?”

The endearment did weird things to his heart. It was a term for equals, for partners. He shouldn’t take it seriously. “You need to come home with me. You’ve had a rough day.”

“Yes, I have. I could probably use a little stress relief,” she said as she brought the wineglass to her lips. “Can you think of anything that might help?”

His cock stuck up her ass? That might help. His cock fucking her tight little asshole would relieve an enormous amount of his stress.

Just like that, he was hard and ready to fuck. Damn, he was glad he’d left his coat on. He grasped on to the only non-sexual thing he could think to say.

“You stole my snowmobile.”

Callie laughed. “That’s so lame, Stef. And it was me. I stole the snowmobile. I hate driving that damn SUV of Zane’s. It’s like he has to prove how big his penis is. It’s unwieldy.”

“The SUV. Not my dick, that’s completely wieldy. I wield it often and totally in her direction,” Zane said with a grin.

“Are you going to arrest me?” Jen asked with a laugh. “Because I think I’ll appreciate Bliss County Jail way more than where I woke up this morning. Zane was telling me Nate’s new admin, Hope, takes food orders for the poor people Nate tosses in there.”

“Stella and I split it,” Zane explained. “She takes the lunch orders, and I get anything after 7:00 p.m. You would be surprised what some really well-made fries can do to liven up a prisoner’s day. I make sure they’re hand cut. I figure if I feed ’em properly, maybe they won’t sue Nate. So far we’re good.”

Jen shook her head. “See, this is why I love small towns. No one offered me fries in the Dallas lockup. Though I did get a thorough body cavity search from a woman named Mildred.”

“That must have been horrible for you, darlin’,” James said, his hand stroking hers.

Stef felt his blood flare, but Jen moved his hand off her wrist.

“That’s sweet, James, but seriously, I belong to him. He might be too dumb to admit it, but he’ll do that thing where he starts a fight, and he’ll probably get his ass kicked, and then I have to listen to him whine.”

“I don’t whine.” What the hell was happening? He’d expected her to spit bile his way, not sweetly tell everyone she belonged to him.

Because she didn’t.

“That’s not what Max says,” Jen replied. “Max says you whine every time he kicks your ass.”

“Max lies,” Stef said. “And he doesn’t kick my ass. I hold my own. I have since we were kids. Let’s go home.” She hopped off the barstool. “Okay.”

Just like that? Where was the catch? She’d been the brattiest thing he’d ever met for a year and a half. Now she walked to him, placing her hand in his and turning her perfectly serene face up. Stef was at a loss. Did he just lead her out?

“Should we get your dad?” Jen asked, her hand squeezing his when she said the word “dad” as though she knew how conflicted he was and offered her support.

He found his fingers lacing through hers. “I left him in the front.” Her eyes scanned behind him. “Well, now he’s sitting at a table with Hiram and Stella.”

Stef turned and saw that his father was laughing, his head thrown back, his face more open than he could ever remember it.

“You’re going to have to talk to him, you know,” Jen said, her eyes narrowing in obvious concern.

“Why?” He didn’t have to do anything. As far as he could see, he didn’t have anything to say to his father.

“Because it’s the right thing to do.” She started walking, her hands still laced in his, forcing him to follow. “Leave him the keys. We can drive the snowmobile back. Somehow I think someone will take Callie home.”

She took the lead, pressing through the crowd, holding on to him.

She stopped in front of the table where the mayor of Bliss sat holding court with some of the town’s older residents.

“Good evening, Sebastian,” Jen said with a sunny smile on her face.

His father’s smile was slightly tight, as though he didn’t approve.

“Jennifer.”

If it bothered Jennifer, she didn’t show it. “Please, only Stef ever calls me Jennifer. My friends call me Jen.” One eyebrow cocked up. “Stefan isn’t your friend?” Her hand squeezed his as she replied with a little laugh. “Stef is just a complete coward. Calling me Jennifer is his way of distancing himself. You’ll note he doesn’t run around calling Max Maxwell or Rye Ryan. It’s okay. We’re going to work on the problem.”

“Jennifer.” He bit out her name between clenched teeth. She was pushing him. Why?

Her hand came up and rubbed across his chest. “It’s all right. No one thinks less of you, Stef. Everyone gets scared. Now, give your dad the keys, and I’ll get my coat and meet you outside.” She released his hand and strode off toward the front of the tavern.

Coward? She’d called him a coward, in front of his father.

“Now, Stef, you need to take a break and think about what you’re going to do next,” Stella said sternly.

“I’m going to blister her backside. That’s what I’m going to do.” Stella’s relief was obvious in the relaxed line of her mouth. “Oh, good. I thought you were going to do something stupid.”

“Stella, how can you say that?” Sebastian slapped a palm on the table. “I might not like the girl, but I certainly don’t want my son to inflict injury on her.”

Stella’s eyes rolled. “You’ve turned into an old man. Stef, don’t listen to him. I knew your father when he was younger. He wasn’t always a dried-up old prude. And listen here, Sebastian. That girl is the best thing to ever happen to your son, and one day he’ll wake up and see it. Maybe, if he’s smarter than his father, he’ll reach out and grab her. Maybe he won’t wait twenty years, because let me tell you, if he does, she won’t be sitting around waiting for him.” Stella pushed out of the booth and strode away. Stef could have sworn he saw tears in her eyes. The crowd swallowed her up.

Hiram put a wrinkled hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “That was to be expected. Let’s have a beer. I’ve missed you, old friend. Let me tell you about all the craziness around here. These young folks are very entertaining.”

Stef shook his head and turned from the sight of his father and the elderly mayor of Bliss. It struck him suddenly that his father had a life here at one time. He’d lived here and built the manor house and the guesthouse. He’d been a part of Bliss. He’d seemed happy here and always spoke of it with an obvious fondness. Why had he left?

Because people left. That was what they did. His mother had left.

His father had left. Jennifer had left. People picked up and left when he became difficult, and he couldn’t quite figure out how to not be difficult.

He didn’t like the direction of his thoughts. It made his stomach twist and turn. It was easier to focus on the fact that Jennifer had defied direct orders. He was responsible for her. He’d signed papers that made him accountable for her behavior. She’d been in jail. She’d left Bliss, and not six months later she was involved with some very unsavory people. The minute she got back, she started looking for more unsavory people. Stef pushed his way through the crowd, scowling at anyone in his way. He was satisfied with the way they started to make room for him, as though no one wanted to get too close. He found her at the door, talking to Logan Green, Nate’s deputy sheriff. She laughed at something he said and gave him a big hug that seemed like it lasted far too long. Logan was about Jennifer’s age, just a tiny bit younger. He was far more suitable for her than a thirty-two-year-old man.

“Beat it, Logan,” Stef growled as he got close enough to be heard.

His dick didn’t care who was more age appropriate. “Go find Hope and bug her.”

Hope was the new receptionist at the Sheriff’s Office. Logan spent an enormous amount of his time flirting with the slightly older woman.

Logan’s eyes flared briefly, but he obviously got the point. He headed straight to the bar.

“Very friendly, Stef,” Jen said, shaking her head at him.

A nasty little impulse clutched his gut. He took Jennifer by the arm and led her down the narrow hallway toward the small office Zane kept.

“Hey, I thought we were heading home,” she protested as she struggled to keep up with him.

“I have a few things to say to you,” he ground out. He punched in the code for the door and the lock gave way. It was a good thing Zane was so predictable. Callie’s birthday was something he knew by heart.

“Don’t,” Jennifer said softly as he closed the door behind her.

They were locked in together. Stef couldn’t miss just how intimate the little room was. It was the first time he’d gotten her alone since she’d been back. No, it was the first time he’d allowed himself to be alone with her. He was in control. She was an artist he liked. She was too talented to be allowed to waste it all. That was why he was here.

That was why he had gone to Dallas.

Then why had he bought her flowers on that day when she’d left?

A little voice was sighing in his head. Why had he been ready to apologize and ask to start over? Why had he told Lana he couldn’t see her anymore? Why hadn’t he been to the BDSM club in Denver in months? Why had he turned down invitations to play parties?

Stef really hated that fucking voice.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he heard himself ask. He turned on her, though the small room didn’t allow much distance between them.

“I am begging you not to do this, Stef,” she said, her fists clenched at her sides. “I am trying really hard to get along with you.

I’m trying to be understanding.”

“Really? What are you trying to understand, love?”

“Why you act like such an ass,” she said and then groaned. “See, I did not mean to say that. I meant to be sweet.”

“Tell me something, did you mean to drape yourself all over James Glen?” Stef felt his hands twitching. She was so close. He could smell her. She’d taken a shower at some point, and her hair smelled like citrus. God, he loved that smell. She always smelled sweet, with just a hint of bite underneath. She was a juicy grapefruit who just needed a little sugar. His cock ached. He was so hard he could pound nails.

Her eyes became wide orbs in the low light. “What are you talking about? I never touched him. He was just being friendly.”

“No, he wasn’t. He was being horny.” There had been nothing at all friendly about the way James Glen’s hand had been ready to cup her ass. It had been a prelude to an invitation to go back to his ranch where he would have done any and all manner of nasty things to her.

James Glen had been looking for a lover for the night. Stef should know. He was desperate as hell, too. Why had he brought her back here? It was too quiet and intimate.

“Well, good for him. Maybe I should take him on. It’s been a long time for me,” Jen snarled. Her foot stomped at the floor, her face blushing in frustration. “Damn it. Stop it, Stef. Stop it now. You’re making me say things I don’t want to say.”

“I’m not making you do anything.” This was what he needed. He needed a good fight to remind him why she was a bad idea. She was a little brat who always tried to push him. She’d tried anything and everything to get her way. Maybe now she was trying to make him jealous. It was working. “You were the one making a spectacle of yourself. You were the one flirting. Tell me something. Is your taste in men really that bad? James has fucked just about every girl in southern Colorado. You really want to be one in that long line?” Her face flushed, her eyes narrowing to angry little slits. Her mouth opened, and he knew venom was just about to spew out of that pretty mouth of hers. Then it closed. Her shoulders relaxed, and her hands went, shockingly, to the waistband of her pants. He watched in a mixture of abject horror and rampaging desire as she pushed her jeans over her hips and presented that gorgeous ass to him.

“How many, Sir?” Her voice was calm, but there was a throaty, aroused quality he couldn’t mistake.

He coughed. He couldn’t help it. He couldn’t find air to breathe in. Her hands were pressed against the wall, her ass thrust out and prepared for the slap of his hand. She was a little awkward, but her presentation was close to perfect. Everything about her called to him, and he wasn’t sure he could refuse the invitation.

Those twin globes were beautifully round and juicy. There were two perfect dimples above her ass, calling to him to kiss the skin there. The line dividing her cheeks was a sweet arrow leading to her pussy. Of their own volition, his hands moved out to caress her ass.

Her skin was soft and hot against his fingers.

“Ten,” he heard himself say. Ten smacks. Two for letting James Glen touch her. Two for smiling at Logan. Six for leaving him. Even as he thought it, he knew he wasn’t being fair. Nothing about this was fair. His brain felt fried. The only thing he could see was her soft, white flesh. She was ready for him. She was submitting to him.

“Yes, Sir. I’ll count.” Her voice was breathy and deep. Her jeans were around her knees. They were skinny jeans, tight when she wore them, and they formed a near perfect binding now. She couldn’t move freely. Her legs were tied together as surely as if he’d wound a rope around them. If he shoved his cock in, it would be tight, so tight. He would have to fight his way in. Thrusting would be hard. He would have to force his dick in and then grind in a slow circle until she moaned and he felt her cunt vibrate around him, sucking at him, milking his cock. Then he could let go. He would spew his cum until he had nothing left. He would grind into her until he was dry and she was full, the exchange complete between them.

Fuck, he didn’t want to wear a condom with her. He hadn’t the first time and didn’t want to now. He wanted to fill her up with nothing in between them. His cock was obsessed with getting inside her bareback. He couldn’t do this. This wasn’t some sub he was training. This was Jennifer. He couldn’t send her away at the end of the weekend. He had to see her every day.

Stef tried to take a step back, his thighs coming in sharp contact with Zane’s desk.

“Is there something wrong, Sir?” Jennifer asked. She hadn’t moved from her position, but her head was turned as she attempted to look at him. “Did you change your mind? I did spend some time with the doctor. Maybe I tried to seduce him, too.” It was the smile on her face that did it.

He reached out and picked up the ruler on Zane’s desk. It was flexible metal with a corked back. He tested it against his palm and then brought it down on her ass.

Jen gasped. Her body stiffened for a moment. Stef waited for her to get back up and tell him to go to hell.

“One,” was all she said.

His cock felt like it was trying to claw its way out of his pants.

The ruler in his hand felt good, but something was off. “This is wrong.”

Now she stood, a fine sheen of moisture in her eyes. “No, Stef, don’t stop. I want it. I like it. This isn’t some lifestyle I want to live, but I love to play with you.”

Stef turned quickly, looking for what he needed. Earbuds. They were connected to Zane’s laptop, but Stef easily removed them. She wasn’t where he’d left her. “Did I tell you to move? That’s two more.

Now, give me your hands.”

She turned, hopping a little because her jeans were caught at her knees. “Sure, let me get out of these.”

“Two more for questioning me, love,” Stef said with great pleasure. Ten had been far too easy, but Jennifer seemed determined to give him more. She didn’t seem to fear him at all.

Her mouth opened, then closed, and she held her wrists out to him without another protest. He wound the earbuds’ plastic wire around her wrists, palms together. He worked quickly, winding it in a pattern that would restrict her movement, but not cut off circulation. Now that he was tying her up, a sense of calm, almost fatalistic acceptance had come over him. He should walk out the door, but he couldn’t. He needed her. He’d never needed another woman the way he needed her. She’d haunted his dreams since the day he met her.

She was an addiction, and he’d decided, just for the night, to fall off the wagon.

“I like the way those jeans keep your legs together. They make a good binding.” He picked her up and moved her to the desk. “Lean over, put your hands out, chest against the desk, ass in the air. I owe you some discipline, love.”

Discipline. Even saying the word made his cock jump. Saying the word while he contemplated Jennifer’s gorgeous ass had his breath ragged. He had to remember to stay in control.

She did as he asked, sliding seductively against the desk. Her eyes were hot as she craned her neck to look up at him. “Is that all you owe me, Sir?”

He brought the ruler down on her perfect ass. A pretty line of pink formed, and her flesh quivered. He owed her so much more than a little spanking. “What else do you want, Jennifer? What else should I give a bratty little submissive who obviously doesn’t know her place?”

A couple of hours at his feet might start to satisfy the Dom in him.

She could kneel at his feet in the studio while he worked. When he needed to relax, he’d open his pants, and she would suck his cock.

Otherwise, she would sit there, and he could stroke her while he worked.

A slow smile crossed her face, like a cat who had just found the most perfect cream. “Where’s my place, Stef?” Beside him, underneath him, with him always. But he would never let her know that. He wanted something she couldn’t give him.

He wanted something that it wasn’t fair for him to ask of her. He was a selfish bastard. If he had his way, she wouldn’t have a career at all, and she was far too talented for that. Tonight was all he could allow himself. “This is your place, Jennifer. Right here. Right now. Bound and waiting for me.”

He brought the ruler down in short arcs, spreading the spanking all across her gorgeous ass. He counted in his head because he didn’t want to hear the sound of his voice. He preferred the breathy, desperate gasps and little moans that escaped her lips. She was trying so hard to hold still for him. Her chest hitched, and her ass swayed as though anticipating the next stroke. He slowed down after stroke number five. Anticipation was part of the game.

Her skin was pink and perfect. No welts, just a nice, hot color. By the time he reached eight, her head was pressed to the desk and not a single snappy remark had come out of her mouth. She simply whimpered, and the sound went straight to his cock.

“I didn’t like that rancher’s hand on your ass, love,” he explained as he put his own hand on her warm flesh.

“Yes, Stef,” she said, a dreamy quality to her voice.

She was so submissive when it came to this. She would rail and rage at him outside of sex, but she was a little kitten when he got her pants off. The combination was intoxicating. “No more ranchers. He wouldn’t understand you anyway.”

“Yes, Stef.”

That’s what he wanted. Yes, Stef. Just yes.

His hand moved up and down, the ruler snapping back after each tap. He rained down on her until he was perfectly satisfied that she was on the edge. Her breathing was choppy, and she was trying to clutch the front of Zane’s desk with her bound hands.

Stef stopped. What was he doing? He’d lost count. He wasn’t sure how many he’d given her. Damn it. He never lost count. He was shaking as much as she was, his breath sputtering in and out of his chest. He’d come close to losing control. He could have hurt her. He hadn’t even talked about her safe word. Had he hurt her?

“Are you okay?” he heard himself ask, though he was afraid of her answer.

“No, damn it. I am not okay.” She pounded her bound hands on the desk.

His heart felt like it would fall out. This was just one of the reasons he’d stayed away from her. He couldn’t keep himself in check around her.

Jen made no attempt to get up. She wiggled her ass, pressing her legs even closer together. “Look what you did. I ache, Stef. I swear to god, if you don’t fuck me, I’ll hate you for life.” The way she moved had her pussy on full display. He felt his mouth fall open as he caught sight of her wet lips. She was swollen and so wet she glistened in the low light. His hands came out. He put his left hand on her hips, steadying her, while his right hand slid through her juices. He was fascinated by the way his hand looked against her soft, pink flesh. It was a gorgeous coral color, but the juice gave it a sheen he’d love to capture on a canvas. If she were his submissive, he’d order her to spread her legs so he could paint her. He would look at her pussy until he could get its perfection just right.

Georgia O’Keefe would have nothing on him. Jennifer’s pussy really was a flower opening up for him.

She sighed, her body relaxing as though she was finally getting some much-needed relief. “Yes, that’s much better than what Mildred did to me.”

He couldn’t help his chuckle. Her humor always brought him back to earth. Sometimes he lost himself, but she knew how to bring him back. It was good to know he pleased her more than some guard from the county lockup. He let a single finger circle her clit. “I take it Mildred wasn’t a skilled cavity searcher?” Her hips swayed, inviting him in to play. “I’m sure she’s really good at finding any drugs I might have shoved up my hoo ha, but all in all, I didn’t care for the experience. She definitely wasn’t as good at spanking me.”

His hand came straight out. “She hit you?”

“I was joking, Stef,” Jennifer said. “No one hit me, except you, and that was very erotic. I was neither sexually nor physically assaulted while in prison, as I told the good doctor. I’m fine. I’m of sound mind, and I would really like to have an orgasm.” He slapped his hand across her ass for teasing him. He’d been horrified at the thought of her in a cage at the mercy of guards. It wasn’t something to joke about. “You didn’t let Caleb look you over.

You simply walked out and didn’t even bother to leave a note telling me where you were going.”

Maybe he hadn’t spanked her enough. If they were at the guesthouse, he would tie her to the St. Andrew’s Cross and use a single tail on her.

“I was hungry,” she said, biting her lip, a sure sign that she was nervous. She would always nibble on that plump bottom lip when she was attempting to find the right thing to say. “I’m sorry, Stef. Next time I’ll let you know when I’m fleeing from the somewhat insane doctor you sic on me. Now, let’s get to the good part. Come on, I can see that you want me.”

He was sure she could. His cock was standing at full attention. His slacks were pressed out as far as the wool would go. Still, he had standards to uphold. “You’re not supposed to be in control of this.” But she was. He could see it. She’d herded him to this place. First, she’d left and sent him running around town to find her. Then, she’d waited in a bar, where it was inevitable she’d get hit on. This was what she wanted. She’d turned sweet and submissive because she’d changed tactics on how to get him to give her what she wanted. It worked so much better than the way she’d tried to deal with him before. She was much more dangerous this time around, and he’d thought she was fatal before.

Her face turned up, and all of the sauciness was gone now.

“Please, Stef. Don’t think. Just for tonight. We can go right back to circling each other warily in the morning, but I need you tonight. I need you so much, babe.”

Her words sliced through him. She’d been through hell, and she’d smiled all day. Stef felt his heart seize. She needed him. He needed her. Damn it.

He got to his knees and did what he’d wanted to do for six months. He shoved his face into her pussy and surrounded himself with her. He buried his tongue in her cunt and let his senses fill. His mouth was full of her tangy, sweet taste. His nose breathed in the scent of her arousal. His skin pressed to her softness. The connection he’d felt to her from the moment they met was fully open, and he gave in.

“Oh, yes, Stef, please.”

His ears took in the sounds of her growing need. She pressed against him. He pulled her open gently and lapped at every inch of her pussy. He ate her, not wanting to miss an inch of her delectable flesh.

He fucked her with his tongue, pressing up into her cunt over and over. He showed her exactly how he wanted to fuck her. When he got his cock in, he’d show her no mercy. He stabbed at her with his tongue and then countered with long, luscious strokes until the cream just poured out of her, honey across his tongue.

He had to press in to get his tongue to her clit, but he managed it.

Her clit felt like it swelled against the tip of his tongue as he lapped at it. Every breath he took was filled with the smell of her arousal. A primal need ripped at Stef’s gut. This was what he’d been missing.

This hot urgency that had little to do with lust and everything with need, it was what was missing from his previous sexual encounters.

Those had been fun. Jennifer was more.

He began his journey from that pulsing little nub all the way back to her ass, where he kissed her pink cheeks as he pressed a finger deep inside her cunt. He slid in easily. She was soaked with cream. It poured from her body, a gift to him.

“God, that feels so good, Stef,” Jennifer said on a low moan. He added a second finger and twisted up. He scissored them inside her, seeking that spot that would make her groan. “So good.” It would feel even better once he got inside her.

“You haven’t had anyone since me.” He didn’t make it a question.

He just knew. She hadn’t made love with anyone. And neither had he.

He couldn’t.

“No,” she replied, her hips pumping against his hand. “I don’t want anyone but you. I never have since the day I laid eyes on you.” Sweet words. He felt the same, but he’d lived far more than she had. He had almost a decade on her to figure out that he wasn’t cut out for one woman.

That voice was back. If he wasn’t cut out for one woman, then why had he stopped seeing Lana? Why hadn’t he taken a lover in the whole six months she was gone? He hadn’t even taken on a single training session, not even one that didn’t end in sex. Since he’d started having sex he’d never gone six months without it, until he’d become involved with her.

And he couldn’t go another single night.

He fished through his pocket and found the condom he kept in his wallet. Despite what had happened all those months ago, he needed to protect her. The pill didn’t always work. They had been lucky the first time. He wouldn’t tie her down like that. The vision of his kids with Jennifer playing with Max and Rye’s and Callie’s assaulted him with a sweetness he couldn’t have imagined.

He pushed it ruthlessly aside. A child would be a cage for her. Her future was far bigger than being a wife and a mother.

He opened the condom. He hoped it wasn’t expired, because he wasn’t going out to the bar to see if Logan had one on him. He pushed his slacks down, freeing his rampaging cock. He was throbbing, desperate. There was already pre-cum seeping from the head, and he could practically feel the blood pulsing. With shaking hands, he slid the condom on. He managed it and then pressed his cock to her soaking flesh, making his dick wet and ready to fuck. He slid through her labia before lining himself up to her pussy.

She was so tight this way. She was tight and perfectly helpless underneath him. He wished he’d taken off her shirt. She should be naked, but there was no time. He had to get inside her. He pressed in and held her hips. This was what he’d needed for months.

Under him, Jennifer was trying to push back against him, trying to take him deeper inside.

“Calm down, love,” Stef said, running his hands along her skin.

He reveled in the connection between them. One hand at her waist, he let the other force its way to her breasts. Her nipples were little pebbles against his fingers. “Let me take control. Don’t fight me.” She stilled beneath him. Her willingness to trust him gave him the control he needed. Her pleasure was at stake, and he didn’t intend to fail her. He pressed in, her cunt tight all around him. He pushed in until he was plastered against her, his legs flush against her thighs, her ass pressed against his stomach.

“You feel perfect,” he said as he twisted his hips. The sensation raced from his cock up his body.

He pulled out a short distance and then pressed back in. He loved the sound of her pussy sucking at his cock. Regretfully, he slid his hand back down her body and circled her waist for better support. He reached around to find her clit with his fingers. He pressed on the little nub in time with his thrusts. He wouldn’t last. She felt too good, and it had been far too long for him to last any length of time. He wanted her with him so badly. He circled his hips, seeking her G-spot while his fingers rubbed at her clitoris.

She went wild beneath him. Her whole body shook as she came.

She pushed back as she screamed out her orgasm.

Her pussy spasmed around him, and he couldn’t hold back. His balls drew up, and he forced his cock as deep as he could go. His own moan filled the room as he came. He ground into her again and again, until he was empty. He let himself fall forward on top of her, his chest to her back. He let himself relax, a pleasant languor infusing his blood.

“Thank you, Stef,” she said, pressing her cheek up to his, seeking connection. “I know you don’t believe me, but I missed you. I missed you so much. I won’t leave again.”

He could feel her heart pounding against his, but now his sleepy pleasure was replaced with panic. What had he done? That hadn’t been sex. He’d made love to Jennifer again, and she was promising him things. She was saying exactly what he wanted to hear.

Stef pulled himself up and quickly cleaned up, tucking the used condom into a tissue and tossing it into the trash can. He righted his clothes and turned to her.

She’d managed to stand up, and she looked so young and sweet standing there.

“Too much, too soon, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered. “I need to get you home. It’s getting late.”

She held her hands out. “Fine. I’ll play it your way, Stef.” He quickly unbound her hands, and she pulled her pants up.

Stef did not miss the final phrase she uttered.

“For now.”

Chapter Nine

Alexei stopped and stared at the big screen outside his motel room. He felt a smile cross his face. The movie was something in black and white with an old American actor. He searched his memory.

Cary Grant, he thought. It was a screwball comedy that he’d seen before, and it never failed to make him laugh.

There were at least twenty cars out in the parking lot of the drive-in portion of the Bliss Movie Motel. There were even a couple of people huddled in lawn chairs close to the snack bar. They held mugs of something hot and passed popcorn between them. The rooms all around him had open curtains that people watched out of. He’d had to move quickly to not block the show.

Only one room was dark. His. He hoped Ivan was still sleeping.

He paused outside the door because he knew what it meant to go in. It meant he had to go back to work. It meant he had to leave this happy time he’d managed to find. He preferred to stand in the cold and remember the afternoon he’d spent teaching two awkward preteens how to handle a hockey stick. That had felt good. It felt right to teach something that brought joy. He’d even enjoyed the time he’d spent with the crusty doctor, though the man hadn’t warmed to him at all.

It had been very easy to forget for a moment why he was here.

After he’d spent a few hours with the boys and the doctor, he’d headed back to Stella’s, where he had dinner and then moved on to the tavern next door for a drink.

That was where he remembered.

The girl was here. Jennifer. That was her name, and it looked like she wasn’t alone. He’d been surprised when the whole bar had stopped and a good portion of the patrons moved into a small hall where they kept whispering to each other and shushing anyone who became too loud. When the door everyone was interested in had opened, a couple had emerged to triumphant shouts and catcalls, and one large man who claimed they’d ruined his desk forever.

He’d recognized her immediately. She was the brunette from the photo, the one they were looking for. His heart had seized as he realized that perhaps the job would not go as easily as he had hoped.

The man with her had been shocked at first at the large crowd listening in on his lovemaking session, but he’d scooped the woman into his arms and scowled at everyone he passed. He was obviously protective of the woman.

Alexei would have to get her alone. He would have to try to reason with her. Perhaps if he kept quiet about having found her, he could distract Ivan. Once he had the painting in hand, he could force them to leave quickly and with no bloodshed.

Cary Grant took a pratfall that had everyone laughing. What would it be like to live in this small town? Quiet and protected. If he was ordinary, he would march back to the diner and invite Holly to come out with him. He would buy her popcorn and make sure she could see the movie screen. He would treat her like a lady.

Alexei knew that wasn’t going to happen. He shoved the key into the lock and opened the door to his room. The best he could hope for was a good night’s sleep, with no dreams of blood and screams.

He closed the door behind him quickly. The room was warm. He didn’t want to let in the chill. It was very quiet, with the single exception of the faucet in the bathroom running. Ivan was awake. The room had been neatly kept. Only one of the two double beds was slightly askew from Ivan’s nap. He hadn’t straightened it, but his case was open.

A low hum came from the bathroom.

Alexei’s blood chilled. Ivan only hummed after a job, one he particularly loved. He only hummed after he’d drawn blood.

With reluctant hands, he pushed open the bathroom door.

“Watch it,” Ivan said. A wide grin was on his face as he washed blood off his skin. His shirt was off, showing his chest and its intricate tattoos. “Careful where you walk. I don’t want to get blood everywhere.”

Alexei’s stomach rolled. In the bathtub was a pale, slim brunette, her brown eyes open but unseeing. Her throat had been slit by a professional.

“It wasn’t her,” Ivan said gruffly. “I thought I had got lucky. I picked her up outside a gas station when I went to fill the tank. She was trying to hitchhike. I thought she was trying to get away.

Apparently, she’s just some tourist who fought with her boyfriend.

Bah, it looked like her.”

Alexei swallowed but tried to contain his nausea. It was one thing to kill other thugs, but this was different. He’d killed rival mob members who were out to kill him. This was flat-out murder, and he’d had a hand in it.

“We need to get rid of her before the cleaning crew comes in the morning,” Ivan said as he reached for a cigarette. He lit it quickly and seemed completely at ease as he looked down at his handiwork.

Alexei had to give him credit. Ivan was a professional. There wasn’t a drop of blood outside the tub. The woman’s body was small and fit into the tiny, utilitarian tub neatly. They could wash away the blood. They couldn’t wash away the body.

“Come, my friend, don’t look so down,” Ivan said, stretching.

“We’ll get rid of this one and start again tomorrow. She’s out there.

We’ll find her. Don’t worry.”

Ivan walked out of the bathroom, mumbling something about a tarp. Alexei was left with a girl who couldn’t be more than twenty-five. She was about the same age that Mikhail had been when a gangster had murdered him and left his body in the river. He didn’t know her name. His heart ached because someone out there would miss her.

And he knew how that felt.

* * *

Sunlight filtered into Jen’s room. She could feel it on her face, but she wasn’t ready to open her eyes yet. She wanted to stay in that amazing dream she was having, the one where Stef didn’t fight her anymore, where he understood she was different and they would be okay.

Unfortunately, that had not been how her evening had ended. She took a deep breath and shifted, her mind playing out the fiasco that had happened after she’d gotten Stef to make love to her.

It had been utterly ridiculous for him to think for a second that she had a thing for James Glen. The cowboy was hot, but he had nothing on Stef. And Logan was even worse. Logan was still a kid. He was barely…twenty-two. Damn it. Logan was almost her age.

It wasn’t the same, she argued mentally. Logan still lived at home, and Jen had been on her own most of her life. Her mom had loved her, but she wasn’t exactly a “dinner on the table at six” mom. Jen had learned to take care of herself at a young age. She was surely more mature than Logan.

Now Zane Hollister and the rest of Bliss—she was questioning their maturity. Who stood outside a locked door and listened in on two people making passionate, beautiful love? Who cheered when the door came open?

Of course, the proper way to handle such an awkward situation was to be brazen through it. Jen would have just taken a bow, but Stef had to play the caveman. Stef, who had public sex in BDSM clubs, if the stories were correct. Stefan Talbot, Mr. Dark and Brooding Sexuality himself, had turned a bright red. He’d hauled her up into his arms and growled at anyone who got in his way. He’d had a few choice words to say, and then they’d been off. He’d shoved her on the back of the snowmobile and told her to hold on.

Then he’d dumped her in her room.

So much for making love.

She wasn’t giving up, though, she promised herself as she tried to pull the covers up. After talking to Callie, she was more certain than ever that Stef just needed a little push. Of course, she’d thought that was what she’d given him when she’d leaned over Zane’s desk and let him use that ruler on her ass. She could still feel it. It had hurt, but there was something erotic about the pain.

There was nothing erotic about the chill, though. She tugged, but the blanket wouldn’t move. Jen sat up, and her heart melted, the chill of the morning gone the instant she saw the man who had fallen asleep at the foot of her bed.

“Stef?”

He came up so fast he started to roll off the bed. His body hit the hardwood floor, and he cursed. His hand came up to hold his head.

Jen held the covers back. He was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt.

He still had to be cold. Though she expected a fight, he immediately crawled under the covers.

“Stay on your side, but open your legs,” he demanded in a husky voice.

The morning was looking up. Jen hauled one leg up slightly to give his hands entry. She screamed when it wasn’t his hand he put there.

Stef’s ice-cold feet found a place between her nice warm thighs.

“Please, Jennifer. I’m so cold.”

Jen growled but lowered her leg, making a nest for his cold feet.

She shivered, but Stef sighed with pleasure. He huddled close to her, his body at a silly angle so he didn’t have to move his feet.

“I hate being cold.”

“Hello, maybe you shouldn’t live nine thousand feet above sea level.” Jen felt her teeth chatter as his ridiculously cold hands settled on her waist.

“I was born in Texas. Heat is in my blood, but I got to Bliss as fast as I could,” he said.

She was still cold, but the idea that her body heat was warming him gave her such pleasure she didn’t complain. “Why didn’t you just hop into bed with me? It’s warm under the covers.” His mouth turned down. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“You just meant to come in and stare at me while I slept? That’s very creepy of you, Stef,” Jen said, softening it with a smile. He was weird and intense. She was cool with it. It was just who he was. He could stare at a canvas for hours before he even opened a tube of paint. She remembered one afternoon where he’d stared at that blank sheet, and she’d stared at him, the hours rolling by as they were both lost in their own worlds.

“I’m not usually so weird,” Stef said, his voice calm, but she heard the gravity in it.

“Really?” Jen couldn’t help the sarcasm. He was absolutely the weirdest person she knew, and that was saying something. “Let’s see, one, you’re an artist, and a really well-known one. That’s strike one.

Artists are weird. Two, you’re a Dom. You like to spank girls and tie them up, and there are things in that guesthouse that I don’t even know what they’re used for.”

His feet rubbed against her skin. “When did you go to the guesthouse?”

“Callie took me. I was curious. She even showed me where the peepholes and the hiding spots are. Per—vert. As for your third strike, you live in Bliss. You’re out. Just own up to it.”

“I never claimed I was normal, Jennifer,” Stef replied. “But then, anyone who claims to be normal is probably lying or miserable because they don’t know their own natures. Humans are freaks. It’s better we accept it. Are you going to deny that you liked your spanking last night?”

A warm rush of arousal poured over her. “Not on your life. Don’t misunderstand me, babe. I love every freaky inch of you. You might be a complete perv, but I wouldn’t have you any other way. If it makes you happy to sleep at the end of my bed like some crazy stalker, then I’m fine with it, but you could have crawled in with me.” He pulled his feet away, and suddenly his hands cupped her face, and his eyes were a serious, stormy gray. “This is a bad idea, but I don’t think I can stay away from you.” Finally, some progress. She snuggled close and was perfectly happy when his arms crept around her. “I don’t want you to. I never wanted you to.”

“You might after you figure out what I want,” he murmured. His hand stroked her hair as he spoke. “I want to train you. I want a Master/sub relationship. It’s all I can do, Jennifer. For the time it takes to clear up everything, I think we should play together. I’ll understand if you don’t want that. I think we’ll end up in bed either way.” She didn’t want to stay out of bed. And he was fooling himself if he thought all he wanted was a D/s relationship. “I’ve read up on BDSM. I might be a novice, but I know a little something.” His hands were creeping up the tank top she was wearing. “Are you sure? I can be a bit demanding when it comes to play.” He was already demanding. He already pushed and pulled her this way and that, and she wasn’t even getting regular sex for it. “I think I can handle you.”

“So young. So naïve.”

So full of shit. “Bring it on, Talbot.” Something hard flinted across his face. “Fine. Show me your breasts.”

Jen threw the covers off and had that tank top over her head in a heartbeat. The room was still chilly, but the cold wasn’t what had her nipples puckering. She was finally in bed with Stef, and she hadn’t had to force him there.

“And your pussy.”

She pushed the pajama bottoms she had on off, along with the bikini panties she was wearing.

“Spread your legs.”

His voice had lowered a couple of octaves, and it poured over her skin like thick, rich honey. She complied, though it felt awkward. Stef sat up and looked down at her. He didn’t say a thing, just sat there.

His stormy eyes took in every inch of her skin. Jen wondered if she should put on a show, but thought better of it. He was staring at her the way he looked at a piece of art. Just his eyes on her was making her skin heat up.

Why this man? Jen asked herself as she lay still under his considering gaze. Life would be so much easier if she could love someone simple. Stef was beyond complex. He was outrageous, kinky, sexy as hell, and the most loyal man she’d ever met. He’d helped out just about everyone in Bliss. Everyone knew he was the world’s worst sucker for a hard luck story. Didn’t have health insurance? See Stef. He’d pay for your medical bills. When drought had threatened the local ranchers, they didn’t go to the bank, they came to Stef Talbot. When Zane and Callie and Nate needed a loan to start their tavern, they had gone straight to Stef. He really was the king of Bliss, but sometimes he held himself apart. He needed to know that the people he helped loved him, too. Jen was pretty sure he never thought about that.

While Stef stared at her, his eyes fastening on her pussy, she stared back at him. He was a work of art. His jaw was a strong line.

She would use a single, thick brushstroke to capture its stony grace.

His skin was smooth and sun-kissed, gold and tan, blended with cream. His hair was longer than usual, falling just over his eyes in midnight locks. And his eyes. She’d always loved his eyes. They were ever changing with his mood. They went from flint gray when he was angry to a warm, almost misty tone when he softened. When he was aroused, there was a storm in those eyes that always pulled her in.

Her whole body flushed with desire, and he hadn’t touched her yet.

A slow smile creased his perfect face. “Very good, Jennifer. Now get dressed. I want to show you something.” Jen sat up. “What?”

He gracefully rose and stretched his long limbs. “I said get dressed. My father is running around here. I don’t want him to see you naked. He already thinks you’re a felon.” Jen felt her eyes narrow. “I don’t really care what your dad thinks.

What game are you playing that you think you can get me all hot and bothered and then leave me this way?” A low growl came out of his throat, and suddenly his body was pressed to hers. His weight held her down, and the menace in his face did all kinds of things to her heart rate. “I am not playing a game. I am the Master, and you are the sub. That means you do what I tell you to do when it comes to sex, love. I know I can’t expect you to listen to me when it comes to anything else, but I am the Master in this room.

Now, you have a choice to make, accept my will or tell me no and this is done.”

Jen clenched her fists. It wasn’t fair, but this was the way it was with Stef. If she wanted a chance to prove they belonged together, this was what she had to do. In return, he would coddle and protect her.

He would lavish her with affection. The fact that he was willing to cede that he didn’t have the final say outside of sex was actually a win, she decided. She knew that wasn’t the deal with his other subs.

He was in control of every aspect of life during their time together.

She was different. It would have to be enough for now. “I can’t get dressed with you on top of me, babe.” He got up and held his hand out. Jen let him help her up. She tossed on the tank and her PJ pants. He’d picked up her panties and shoved them into the pocket of his sweats.

“You don’t need them,” he said almost defensively. “No panties for you.”

His kinks made her smile. She imagined what he’d do with her underwear. She doubted he would simply toss them in the laundry.

Not her Stef. He’d carry her underwear around with him all day. He wouldn’t pull them out and show them to his friends. He would keep them in his pocket. Every so often he would put his hand in his pocket and caress them and remind himself that she’d said yes. “I don’t need them, Stef.”

He flushed as though her acceptance of him pleased him on a fundamental level. When she was properly attired, she took his hand.

He led her through the gorgeous manor house his father had built. He was silent as he moved from the west wing to the east wing. Jen had spent enough time there to know where he was going. His studio.

Most of the east wing’s second floor had been transformed into the most amazing studio, with big bay windows to catch the early morning light.

“So, you still haven’t explained how you came to sleep at the end of my bed,” she said as they passed the grand staircase.

“I told you, I wanted to check on you. And it’s not really your bed, is it? It belongs to me.”

She chuckled. In Stef’s mind, everything belonged to him. He firmly believed the whole damn town was his. She wasn’t an idiot.

“Well, you shoved me there, so I’ll call it mine. And really, where was I going to go?”

He stopped, his handsome face frowning down at her. “As you so rarely stay where I put you, I will have to decline to answer that. I really don’t know. It could have been anywhere.” Jen groaned, but followed as he continued walking. “Are we going to talk about last night?”

“I thought we had, and really, why bother? We could just read about it in the paper this morning.”

“Is that what’s bugging you? It’s no big deal. Everyone would have known anyway. I was totally going to tell Callie, and she would tell Nate and Zane and…well, she would tell everyone. Really, it just saved Callie a whole bunch of phone calls.” His brows came together in the middle of his forehead. “I didn’t like it. It was private. I’m thinking about sending the health inspector to Trio. I’m also thinking about buying a bunch of rats and releasing them in Trio about twenty minutes before the health inspector gets there.”

“Don’t, babe. Once the Hollister-Wright clan came crying to you, you would just end up paying for the exterminator. Save yourself the expense.”

“Maybe not,” he replied, stopping in front of the door to his studio. “Maybe I’ll tell the bastard to go to hell, and that he’s not welcome in my town anymore.”

“Oh, they won’t send Zane to talk to you,” Jen said. “They are way smarter than that. Callie will come to your door with those sad puppy eyes, begging you to save her livelihood. She’ll talk about her future children who will starve, and it will be their Uncle Stef’s fault.” He moaned a little and then opened the door. Early morning light flooded the studio, a vibrant, clean light that had Jen gasping. Stef had redone the studio. Before it had been stark and masculine, with nothing in it but art supplies. It had been a refuge for him. He’d once said he liked it because there were no distractions. Jen had complained there was no comfort, either.

Tears pricked at her eyes. There was a big, comfy couch in one corner, and a small fridge and table. Two easels sat side by side in the perfect spot to catch the light. The big bay windows, once bare, now had gorgeous, gauzy, white window treatments. The room was still stark, but femininity was encroaching, like something inevitable.

He really was dumb.

She turned and threw her arms around him. “I love it.”

He stood there for a moment, but finally his arms came around her. His voice was gruff. “I’m glad, but I didn’t do it for you. It was just time to change.”

So dumb. He could talk about how their relationship was all about sex, but he’d never done this for a sub before. He’d practically rebuilt the room to her specifications. She decided to let it go for now. She pulled away reluctantly. “Well, it’s beautiful.” He stepped back, awkward for once as he turned a hand out.

“Your supplies are over there. This is just the stuff I managed to get boxed up before we left. It will be a couple of weeks for the rest of it.

These arrived this morning, along with your work. I had it all crated and shipped overnight. I opened it, but I haven’t taken them out yet. I thought you would like to do it.”

She shuffled over to the lovingly crated box that contained the three works she hadn’t been able to sell at the gallery. The gallery.

Her stomach churned, but she put aside the bad stuff. If she told Stef she’d had a bad dream about that place last night, he’d have that doctor back checking her for signs of PTSD. She concentrated on the good stuff. “I sold some paintings while I was in Dallas.” She hadn’t sold anything while she was in Bliss. Stefan was a world-renowned artist, but she was just starting out.

“Really? That’s great, Jennifer. I told you that would happen when you concentrated,” he murmured, a little smile on his face.

“You have a great eye and a way with colors.” Jen pulled out the first of the three paintings she had left in her apartment. She set it on the easel. It was the last one she’d finished, with its glorious rushes of green and that shadow of a man. It was the painting she’d redone because she wasn’t happy with the colors.

Funny, they seemed perfect to her now.

“I’m going to give this one to Rachel.” Jen had decided that Rachel needed a baby gift from her. Callie said Rachel had been inundated with baby clothes, and Max and Rye had purchased every safety item known to man. Maybe Rachel would enjoy something to brighten the house. “I missed her shower. This has to be better than what Nell gave her.”

Nell and Henry had given her a gift certificate to offset the baby’s carbon footprint for the first year of life. Nell had purportedly explained that Rachel was on her own after that and had given her a lecture on green diapering practices.

“I think she’ll love it,” Stef said with an indulgent smile on his face.

A sense of satisfaction poured over her. Maybe if she told him more about her sales, he would see that she was really concentrating on her work. “And, who knows, maybe it’ll be worth a lot someday. I got five thousand for the three I sold. Let me tell you, that came in handy.”

Stef’s face got a bright, brilliant red. “That fucker. I swear if he wasn’t already dead, I would kill him myself.” Jen turned to him. “What are you talking about? Who’s dead?” Stef stopped, a red flush spreading across his face. “Renard. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you until now.”

“Whoa.” She didn’t like the man, but she was surprised he was dead. He’d been a halfway decent mentor until he’d thrown her in jail.

A chill went through her. “Is it over the painting?” Stef nodded and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Probably. The police found his body yesterday. They think he was involved in a drug deal gone bad. He was apparently paying for some cocaine with the painting. I don’t want you to worry. You’re safe here.”

As she had no idea where the painting was, she wasn’t terribly worried. But something else struck her. “Why are you upset that Renard sold my paintings?”

Stef sputtered, his normal grace deserting him as he seemed to realize he’d made a mistake. “Nothing. I was just surprised.” Her smile slipped away completely. “You bought them.”

It felt like a crushing defeat. She’d gone about in a haze after the sale of the first one. After the second two, a confidence had settled over her. Now that was stripped away. She hadn’t really accomplished anything. Stef had merely stepped in and played god again. Deus ex machina. That described Stef. He played god and then left her alone again.

She slid the painting back into the crate. “Maybe I’ll just get her something else.”

“Jennifer.” He strode across the space between them, filling her senses. “It was the only way I knew to take care of you. And I paid way more than five thousand. I gave him twenty because I wanted you to be okay. I wanted you to have the things you needed.” Those damn tears were back. She fought hard not to shed them.

She crossed her hands over her chest. “I needed you, Stef. You weren’t about to give me that. You won’t give me that now, either, will you? You’ll follow me across the country and pay way too much for paintings no one gives a damn about. You’ll move heaven and earth to get me out of jail, and you’ll toss me over a desk when you get a little horny, but you won’t tell me you love me.” His jaw hardened. “Jennifer, don’t make more of last night than there was. And don’t make more of our relationship. I’m attracted to you. You’re submissive, and I’m a Dom. It’s inevitable that we would be together when we’re living so close together. But this is a D/s partnership, not a love affair.”

A weariness stole over her. Could she really fight him? How long and hard would he fight before he got over his fear? Maybe he wouldn’t ever get over it. He loved her. She felt it, but it didn’t matter if he never accepted it. It didn’t matter if she wasn’t good enough to risk his heart for. “Fine. It’s just sex. Got it.” He sighed, the hardness flitting away. “Jennifer, does it have to be like this? Can’t we be friends? I like you. I think you’re an amazing artist. I think you have a bright future, if you concentrate. You don’t have to be stuck here. You could be in New York selling in galleries.”

He was always pointing out the future he thought she should have.

He didn’t ask her opinion. He merely stated what he considered the best possible future for her and pushed her to take it.

“Great, I’ll look forward to it,” she said, stepping away from him.

He really did treat her like a child. He’d told her he wouldn’t mentor her then did it at every opportunity with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. It didn’t matter that she didn’t want to go to New York. It didn’t matter that she could see herself being perfectly happy selling her stuff to the tourists who came through Bliss. Stef had decided what her future should be, and he wouldn’t let a little thing like the fact that she loved him mess that up.

His dark hair was shaking slightly. It was just the tiniest bit overgrown, curling a little around his ears. He was so masculine compared to the metro guys she’d been around in Dallas. “I wish I could help you settle in, but I have to meet Rye. I have to help him set up the pony rides for the kids. And I should probably take a shower. If you need anything, talk to Mrs. Truss. If you’re hungry, there’s probably a little buffet set up since we have so many guests. When I get back, we’ll talk, okay? Maybe later I’ll take you into town. Would you like that?”

“Sure,” she forced herself to say.

He ruffled her hair like he would a kid. There was an affectionate smile on his face, like he’d never tied her up and forced his dick inside her body. He turned and walked out.

Jen shivered and wished she’d put on a robe. He’d taken all the warmth with him.

She looked around the gorgeous studio and saw it for what it was—a pretty little cage. He would keep her here, and then he didn’t have to deal with her in any way he didn’t control.

And he’d been in control the whole time. Even when she was away from him, he’d pulled the strings. He’d watched her and bought her paintings and stepped in the minute she got in trouble. He’d hauled her home, and now he’d detailed the terms of the relationship.

She was perfectly free to love him with all her heart as long as she obeyed him in the bedroom and understood he wouldn’t acknowledge that he loved her back.

Screw that.

She would do the bedroom stuff, but he was already going back on his promise to not dominate her outside of sex. Her gilded cage was proof of that.

“Stefan?” a voice called.

Jen turned to see the door to the studio opening. Sebastian Talbot stepped in looking very dapper in wool slacks and what Jen suspected was a cashmere sweater. The elder Talbot was a lovely man. His hair had gone to silver, but she could tell where Stef had gotten his looks.

Of course, just like the younger Talbot, this one had problems with her, too.

“He isn’t here, Mr. Talbot. He’s cleaning up, and then he’s going to help out at the Winter Festival.”

Sebastian’s hand rubbed at the back of his neck in a sign of obvious frustration. “He told me I should stay in, as well, right after giving me a list of things to do. I don’t remember him being this bossy.”

Jen snorted as she picked up the canvas. She should repack it. She wasn’t going to work for a while. “You haven’t been around him much. He’s the bossiest person I’ve ever met.” Sebastian’s face fell a bit, but he took a breath and gave her a tight smile. “Yes, I suppose you could say that. He also knows how to find talent. That work is lovely. Truly beautiful. The colors are amazing.

It’s not Stef’s work, though. He has the best luck when it comes to finding new artists. I wonder if he would let me buy that one. It would be perfect in the new offices.”

She felt a smile creep over her face as she made a decision.

“Sorry, this one is for a friend, and the other two are going into the auction pool for the Festival. But, if you like, I do work on commission. Feel free to contact my agent, oh wait, that’s me.”

Jen hauled out the other two paintings. She would do what she’d wanted to do with them from the beginning. She would share them.

“This is your work?” Sebastian studied each as she pulled them out. He had the same serious concentration on his face that Stef got when he contemplated a new work. Sebastian Talbot was a connoisseur. “You’re very talented. I believe I would hire you. My company prides itself on helping talented artists.”

“You can tell me all about it on our way to Bliss,” she explained.

His eyes flared. “But Stefan told us to stay in.” Jen shrugged. “And we’re going to do what he says? Here, help me with these. If we hurry, we can get out of here before he even gets out of the shower.”

A smile spread across Sebastian’s face as he picked up the canvases. “I believe we might get along, dear.” Jen returned his smile. She was probably going to get into serious trouble with her Dom, but she had the feeling it would be worth it.

Chapter Ten

Stef slammed out of Rye’s truck. He stalked around the horse trailer and slammed that door open. All around him the festival was starting up, and heads turned at the noise he was making.

Rye Harper’s eyebrows rose to the brim of his hat. “You are as touchy as Max today, Stef. You want to talk about it, or should I say her?”

The amusement in Rye’s voice irritated him. “I’m not touchy.” Rye’s twin Max walked up from the small corral he’d been putting up. There was a carousel wheel to attach the ponies to. That was where he’d made his mistake. He should have tied Jennifer up before he turned his back on her.

“That’s not what I heard. I heard there was a lot of touching going on last night at Trio,” Max said, smirking.

Rye slapped at his brother’s chest. “You stop that. Rachel said to go easy on him.”

Max snorted as he pulled out the ramp and stomped up. “Yeah, I got the lecture last night. Stef is confused, and we need to give him space and crap.”

“I am not confused.”

Rye’s hand came out to grasp his shoulder. “You got woman trouble, man. We’re all confused about women. Even after you marry

’em and get ’em pregnant, it doesn’t get easier.” Max led a pony down the ramp, one hand on the rope, the other gently patting its head. “Hell, no, it gets harder. And he doesn’t even have a brother to hide behind when the going gets tough.”

Rye’s lips quirked up. “I have to plead his case from time to time, keep him from sleeping in the barn with Q. Sharing has its advantages.”

Max hooked up the pony, giving her a little pat. “Stef isn’t going to share Jen.”

“Why not? He’s always shared before. I heard James was sizing her up last night. From what the grapevine says, James is very open-minded.”

“His mind is going to be opened by my fist if he tries it again,” Stef said before he realized he was being baited. “You two suck.” Stef picked up a heavy coil of rope and turned from his friends, preferring to get to work than stand around and listen to their juvenile teasing. In an hour or so, the tourists would be out in full force and there would be a line of kids a mile long waiting to ride.

The grounds crew had been hard at work. Main Street had been shoveled, and the park grounds were pristinely clean. The tents and stalls were going up all over the place. Generators were humming, and Stef could already smell popcorn and funnel cakes. This was one of his favorite times of the year, but he was in a foul mood. He knelt in the hay that Max had lined the stall with, his hand moving smoothly, working the rope.

“Shoe’s on the other foot, huh, Stef?” Rye asked, standing over him.

“No idea what you’re talking about.” But he had a nasty suspicion.

“Rachel. Nate and Zane. Hell, you’re practically the cupid of Bliss,” Rye stated.

Stef snorted. “Hardly. I merely let Rachel use the guesthouse, and Bliss needed a sheriff.”

“Yeah, and Rachel came up with that plan all by herself, and it never once occurred to you that Callie had been pining for those two for years. You can pretend all you like, but you have a hand in everything that goes on here. You make sure everyone in Bliss gets what they need even if you hide the fact that you’re doing it,” Rye said, his boot tapping with impatience. He stopped suddenly and knelt down to get to eye level. “Man, you can’t expect the rest of us to butt out.”

“I sure as hell can,” Stef replied irritably.

“Ain’t happening, man.” Max attached the third pony to the wheel and started to walk them around, getting them warmed up. “Nobody is going to stay out of it. You and Jen are all anyone’s talking about.”

“Damn it,” Stef cursed. He had to tie the knot for the third time.

His concentration was shot, but it had been for months. “Well, you should tell everyone that I’m not Jennifer’s boyfriend.”

“Really?” Rye asked, his voice rising in surprise. “After the way you carried on with her last night at Trio, I think people will be surprised.”

“I’m not her boyfriend. I’m her Dom.” There was a loud snort from Max. “You owe me ten, brother.” Rye cursed under his breath. He walked up to his brother and pulled out his wallet. His blue eyes were slits of irritation as he handed over the cash to his brother. “You’re a dumbass, Stef.” Stef tightened the rope, securing the gates of the corral, and got to his feet. “Why? Why am I a dumbass? Look, I like Jennifer.

Obviously, I’m attracted to her, but she’s only twenty-three. She’s intensely talented. She won’t stay in Bliss forever, and it would be wrong to tie her down.”

“Yes,” Rye said with a little fist pump.

Max frowned and handed the ten back.

“Explain, assholes,” Stef said shortly.

Max leaned against the truck. “See, Rye and I had a couple of bets concerning the state of your love life.”

“Classy,” Stef shot back.

Rye ignored him. “First, I thought you would do the right thing and cave. There’s no way you dominate that girl long term. You only like it because those subs tend to overlook your perversions. Jen is obviously a perv herself, so I thought you would get it.”

“I knew you were dumb as dirt,” Max supplied.

Rye shook his head. “He didn’t. Rach did. She talked him into it.

She thought you were a dumbass. She thinks you’re going to try to hide behind all the BDSM stuff. Now, we also had a bet on why you would potentially be such an idiot.”

“I said you were just afraid of commitment because you get so much tail at those clubs.” Max grinned as he adjusted his Stetson on his head.

“But I knew it was because your momma left you when you were a kid and then your dad left,” Rye said, as though he was mentioning the weather and not psychoanalyzing his best friend.

Stef felt his heart clench. It wasn’t true. He’d gotten over that a long time ago. He was glad she’d left. He wouldn’t have been raised in Bliss. He wouldn’t have found his home if he hadn’t driven her away.

Fuck. He was thirty-two. He was old enough to know that his parents’ divorce had nothing to do with him. He was old enough to be over it. His treatment of Jennifer had everything to do with her age and her talent and nothing to do with his childhood.

“Is he freaking out?” Max asked, leaning into his brother.

“I am not freaking out,” Stef shouted. “I’m tired of everyone being in my business.”

“Deal with it,” Rye said with a shrug. “Welcome to Bliss. We show you we love you by being all up in your business. Damn it, Stef, we just want you to be happy. Can’t you see that?”

“If you want me to be happy, stop talking about me,” Stef said.

The words felt stubborn. When had he stopped being open with Max and Rye? He used to tell them everything. He used to share everything with them, including women. When had he started to pull away from his brothers?

“No,” Max replied, his face a firm mask of mule-like confidence.

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Stefan, are you all right?”

Stef brought his head around at the sound of his father’s voice.

“I’m fine. I thought you were staying at the house.”

“That was your idea, not mine.” His father was wearing a very nice coat, and he’d found some proper boots. He stepped forward with a smile on his face. “I always loved the Winter Festival. I wanted to come out. Hello, Maxwell, Ryan.”

“Mr. Talbot.” Max and Rye nodded their heads in unison.

A nasty little impulse took hold of Stef’s gut. He had a way to make Max very uncomfortable. As uncomfortable as he’d made Stef.

“You know, Max, Dad found out I’m not with Callie.” Max smiled. “I’m sure Zane and Nate were quick to tell him all about it.”

“He thought I’d been covering up my sexuality all these years because I was afraid to tell him about us.” Let Max stew on that. Max was usually a powder keg of anger. Questioning his sexuality would surely get him furious.

Max looked from Sebastian to Stef to his brother, his face slack-jawed. Rye doubled over immediately, but Max just stared for a moment. Then he sighed.

“Damn, I thought we could hide our love for a few more years,” Max said, his face lighting up.

Stef took a step back as Max walked toward him, his arms open.

A little bit of mirth lit inside Stef. Idiot. He was such an idiot. “Max.

Don’t you do it.”

“We don’t have to hide anymore, Stef. We can let our gay love flow.” Max batted his eyes and puckered up.

Stef couldn’t help it. He laughed. It came from deep down in his soul. He loved Max. He loved Rye. They always brought him down to earth, no matter how far he got away from it. They, along with Callie, were his anchors, his true family. “I fucking hate you.”

Max punched him viciously in the arm. “You can’t shame me, asshole. I got a girl pregnant. I’m comfortable with my sexuality.”

“Hey, you don’t know that,” Rye interjected. “That could be my baby.”

“Prove it,” Max shot back, circling Rye. “I bet the baby looks like me.”

Rye pushed at him, a wide smile on his face. “I bet the baby looks like me.”

Stef couldn’t help it. “I bet the baby looks like me.” Max and Rye both rounded on him. Stef had the good sense to back up. “It was a joke.”

“So is this,” Max said, his fist rearing back.

Stef easily avoided him. It was just play. Sometimes he and Max turned into eight-year-old boys. This time Rye joined in. Rye tackled him, and Stef hit the ground. He brought his boot up and caught Rye in the gut.

Max pulled on Rye’s coat, hauling him up. “He’s gone. He shook his head, said something about those Harper boys being a bad influence, and walked off. We can stop.” Stef looked up at his friends. They’d done the whole fake fight thing to get him out of talking to his dad? Rye held out a hand and helped him up.

“You’re going to have to deal with him, you know.” Rye sounded as sure as Jennifer had when she’d said the same thing.

Stef brushed his coat off. “I know.”

But first he would deal with his willful sub. He felt in his coat pocket. Her silky panties were still there, but so were a few other items. He knew exactly how he would deal with her.

* * *

“They’re beautiful,” Holly said, staring at the canvases Jen had brought into the town hall. “They’ll go for a lot of money, sweetie.

It’s a great thing you’re doing.”

Holly pushed a piece of paper in front of Jen, which she quickly signed, officially donating her work to the charity auction. Stef would probably throw a fit, but it made her feel good. Her pride had been bruised when she found out the only person who had bought her work was Stef, but Holly’s admiration meant something.

“And you can keep this one until I can get this out to the Harper Stables?” Jen asked as she turned over the painting she’d decided to give Rachel.

Holly patted the covered canvas. “Absolutely. I’ll lock it up. Just let Rachel know where she can get it.”

“Thanks,” Jen said as she pulled her gloves back on and walked to the front of the town hall. The whole place was decorated in a winter theme. Jen smiled and waved at the people signing up for volunteer work or paying their entry fees to various functions. There was a snowboarding competition this afternoon it looked like. The first round was today, and the championship round was tomorrow. A line of young men stood waiting to get their numbers assigned.

Jen pushed through the double doors and crossed the street to get to the park grounds. The heavenly scent of coffee filled her nostrils and reminded her that she’d skipped breakfast in an attempt to avoid Master Stefan. She frowned. Maybe that had been a mistake. She’d agreed to the whole Dom/sub thing and then immediately did what he’d asked her not to. She was going to get a spanking.

Yeah, she was totally looking forward to that.

“Hey!” Callie jumped up and down, waving her gloved hands.

She stood in the coffee line. “You want something?”

“Yeah, just a coffee would be great,” Jen yelled back. She marched through the neatly plowed park grounds to where Rachel stood, Quigley sitting at her side. She was bundled from head to toe.

Jen felt a rush of affection for the pregnant woman.

She’d missed her friend’s pregnancy. How had her mother done it? How had she walked out on the people she knew? Her mother hadn’t been a bad person. She’d been flaky, but sweet. When Jen thought about her, it was as a smiling, laughing presence. There wasn’t a mean bone in her mother’s body, yet she’d walked out on everyone who ever cared about her because it was easier than fighting.

Or, was it just that her smiling mother couldn’t handle the responsibility? Being a part of a community, of a town or a family or just a group of friends, meant working at it. It meant putting them before yourself at times. That was what her mother couldn’t handle.

Hell, if Jen didn’t call her, she wouldn’t ever speak to her mother. She often worried about what would happen if her mom lost the cell phone Jen had given her. Her mother would just be gone.

Like she had been gone.

“Hey,” Rachel said, walking over. “I’m supposed to be the hormonal one. Why are you crying, sweetie? What did Stef do?

’Cause I can sic Max on him.”

Jen shook her head. “It wasn’t Stef. It was me. I left.” Rachel reached out, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Yes, you did.

The going got tough and you walked. You left your friends, and you didn’t look back. You didn’t write. You didn’t call. You cut us off like we didn’t mean a thing.”

Well, that was Rachel, Jen thought. If she wanted constant sympathy, she should have gone to Callie. Rachel told it like it was.

“I ran once,” Rachel continued. “I left everything behind, and do you know why I did it?”

“Because you had a crazy stalker guy after you,” Jen managed to get out.

“Yes, but more importantly, I didn’t have anyone to help me. My folks were gone. I didn’t have a family to rely on. My friends all gave up on me. I was alone. You weren’t. You are never alone when you’re here.” Rachel stared at her. “So my question to you is, how long before you run again?”

“Never,” Jen stated resolutely. “I am never leaving again. This is my home. I want a life here, and if that’s a life without Stef, then I’ll make it. I’m going to try this thing with him for a while because I love him, but if he can’t love me back, then I’ll open my own studio, and I’ll make it work.”

Rachel’s lips curved up slightly. “Are you making your stand then?”

“I am making my stand.” She would have Stef or she wouldn’t, but she wouldn’t leave her home again. She wanted everything that went with this crazy place. She wanted to gossip and be gossiped about. She wanted to get pulled into Nell’s volunteer work and chase aliens with Mel. She wanted to go to town hall meetings. She wanted to love her friends and neighbors so much that they could fight and still be friends. She wanted roots more than she’d ever wanted anything else.

Rachel smiled brilliantly and pulled her in for a hug. “Then I’ll stand with you. But you should know I’ll kick your skinny ass if you try to leave again.” Rachel shook her head. “Damn, girl, eat a burger sometime. I hate you.”

“No, she doesn’t, Jen,” Callie said, walking up with her hands full of covered coffee cups. Callie shook her head at Rachel. “What is wrong with you? Jen, she’s past hormonal. Pregnancy must be making her mean if she’s got you crying.” Rachel snorted. “I didn’t make her cry. She’s all emotional about being home. I called her a skinny bitch.” Callie nodded as she passed out the cups. “Oh, that’s sweet.

Here’s your tea.”

Rachel grumbled but took the cup. “I miss coffee. And I need a damn beer. Oh, look, it’s a supermodel.” Laura Niles walked up with a little wave. She looked practically perfect in her tailored coat, skinny jeans, and knee-high boots with what looked to be a five-inch heel. She strode over confidently, her blonde hair curling in waves. “Thanks, sweetie. Can I touch today, or will I get my head bitten off?”

Rachel grinned. “Sorry, I’m taking the hormone thing to its fullest horror. I’ve found the rounder I get, the more crap people are willing to take from me. Go ahead. Rub for luck.” A little wistful look came over the beautiful blonde’s face as she touched Rachel’s stomach. “He kicked.”

“Yeah, he does that all the time now.” Jen felt her heart clench. “It’s a boy?”

“According to the doctor. I’m going to be hopelessly outnumbered,” Rachel said. “He claims there’s only one in there.

Christopher Stefan Harper.”

“Stef?” Jen asked.

“Yes, Stef was the one who made me realize I could handle both those men. He was the one who brought us together.”

“If we have a girl, we’ve decided to name her Stephanie,” Callie said with a hopeful smile. “Because he brought us together, too.” Laura straightened up, brushing away a little tear. “Stef is good to everyone here. Thanks, Rach. You know I need a baby fix every so often. Now, Callie, do you know where Nate is? I need to talk to him.”

“He’s back at the station last I heard,” Callie said.

Laura waved good-bye and started to walk toward the station house, those impressive heels somehow not sinking into the ground.

Jen knew if she tried to walk in those, she would be slogging, but Laura Niles seemed to float gracefully above the surface.

“I hate her,” Rachel said, shaking her head.

“No, you don’t,” Callie immediately replied.

“She doesn’t waddle. I waddle. I also bet she doesn’t pee forty times a day and worry whether or not she’ll fit into the bathroom stalls. I worry I’m going to get stuck and Max and Rye will have to grease me down to get me free.”

“Well, she doesn’t have two superhot cowboys to go home to,” Jen said. She was starting to get into the rhythm. She relaxed and looked forward to the day.

“She doesn’t need them,” Rachel replied. “She can go home and make love to her footwear. Damn, I’d like to get into that woman’s closet.”

“Who’s that?” Callie asked, her jaw dropping just a little.

Rachel’s eyes widened, too. “No idea. Wow. He’s big.”

“And gorgeous.”

Jen followed their line of sight. Two big men stood across from them at the funnel cake stand. One was huge. He had to be six foot five at the least. He was big and broad, with inky black hair peeking out from under the hat he wore. He turned to her, and his dark eyes held hers for the briefest of moments before sliding away. He leaned over to talk to his slightly smaller companion. The smaller man had nothing on his friend. Jen doubted anyone would look at him when they could stare at the gorgeous god of a man next to him. His eyes were too small for his face, his mouth slightly crooked.

“Aren’t you two married?” Jen asked. “Seriously, you have four guys between the two of you.”

“We’re married, not blind,” Rachel shot back.

“Jennifer!”

Jen started at the sound of her name booming across the grounds.

Stefan stalked toward her, walking right past the big guy they were staring at. He wore jeans, boots, and a heavy sheepskin coat. His Stetson was firmly on his head. It was his cowboy clothes. He wore them when he helped out at the stables. Normally he was in slacks and designer shirts, but Jen’s heart always sped up when he went country. He was tall, and his lean strength was on display even under the coat. He was so beautiful.

“You two might not be blind, but Stef seems to think I’m deaf,” Jen said with a shake of her head.

Her friends simply sighed and watched as Stef moved toward her with predatory grace.

“You are in trouble, sub,” Stef said with silky menace.

Yep, it looked like she was.

Chapter Eleven

The sick feeling in the pit of Alexei’s stomach wouldn’t go away.

Though the day was cold, he couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t seem to sense anything but the hollow feeling that permeated his center.

“You want some food? You haven’t had anything all day?” Ivan asked.

Because he kept seeing that girl with the unseeing eyes, her throat split like an unhappy smile. He’d gone through her wallet. Cindy Pope. Aged twenty-one. She had a student identification card as well as her driver’s license and some card that gave her permission to be horny. Ivan had laughed at that, saying something about sluts needing licenses in America, but Alexei knew what it was. It was a joke some friend had given her. Cindy would probably pull it out from time to time and laugh and remember the good time she’d had.

Cindy had no more time. Her last moments of life had been filled with pain and fear, and more than likely gratitude when it was all over. Snuffed out by a monster doing his job.

This was what he’d become. He’d given up who he was and what he’d believed in to get revenge for his brother’s death, but it struck him as he was helping Ivan dump that young woman’s body that it was he, himself, who had truly betrayed Mikhail.

“One,” Ivan said, switching to English as they reached the front of the line.

“Yes, sir,” a friendly-looking man said, turning to the woman operating the fryer.

“Alexei,” Ivan said, slapping him on the chest. “Alexei, are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

Probably not since all he could see was cold limbs and vacant eyes. He forced himself to focus. He let his eyes wander to the place where Ivan was gesturing. There were three women standing together talking. One was painfully pregnant, a large dog at her side. The other was a cute woman with dark hair and glasses, and the third…

Alexei was glad he hadn’t forced food into his stomach because it would surely have come up as he looked at the tall brunette with the slender frame. She was hauntingly familiar. He’d stolen her picture from her home, and it was still in his pocket. She was smiling like she had the night before in the tavern.

“It’s her,” Ivan said, satisfaction dripping from his tone. He had switched back to Russian.

“I don’t know.” Alexei was sure it was her, but he had to try. He had to stall Ivan. His head was spinning. He didn’t have a plan, but he knew he had to do something.

Was he really considering it? Was he really thinking about giving up his revenge? A cold, hard knot formed in his chest. No. He couldn’t. Perhaps he was a bad man for it, but he couldn’t let Pushkin go. Mikhail would forgive him one day, but he was the man Pushkin had made him.

Still, he hesitated at the thought of the artist in Ivan’s tender care.

She could give up the painting, but Ivan wouldn’t let her live. He couldn’t.

“It’s her.”

“You can’t be sure,” Alexei murmured. “You were wrong last night.”

Ivan’s shoulders shrugged. “Bah, these American girls all look alike. Maybe we should just start asking. These people seem dim enough. We will say we know her, but can’t find her.” Alexei knew how to counter that. Ivan had gotten into plenty of trouble for bringing attention to himself. “Better not. When the girl turns up dead, they will remember.”

“And we’ll be halfway to Moscow.”

“And the next time Pushkin needs something done in the States, he’ll look to someone else.”

Ivan growled. He liked moving up in the organization. Traveling and talking to other syndicates was a sign that a man was moving up.

He wouldn’t jeopardize that.

“We have to be patient,” Alexei advised. “It’s a big festival. We just need to get close. Someone will say her name, and then we will know.”

“Jennifer!”

Alexei was startled at the shout. He turned, and a tall cowboy strode past him, his every muscle giving off the signals of one angry man. He walked quickly, but Alexei was almost certain it was the same man from last night. All around him people whispered as he moved through the crowds.

“Or we could get lucky,” Ivan said with a smirk on his weasel-like face. He took the fried bread the stall owner passed to him and began to eat with singular satisfaction.

The cowboy, who had inadvertently given away young Jennifer, took her by the elbow. The artist’s eyes rolled, but she followed along. Her friends did not seem alarmed by the man’s actions. They simply shook their heads and went back to talking.

“Smile, Alexei, we’ll be on our way home tonight. Stick with me.

I’m lucky, my friend. I’m going places.” Yes, Alexei thought, Ivan was going straight to hell, and damn if he wouldn’t be there with him.

* * *

“Is there any point in letting you know you’re hurting my arm?” Jen asked, fearing she knew the answer to the question.

Stef was in full-on Dom mode. His gorgeous face was set in stubborn lines as he led her into the warmth of the town hall. He passed the long lines of people waiting to sign up for activities and completely ignored Nell when she tried to get him to sign up for her

“Vegans Do It Humanely” newsletter.

“Not really,” he said shortly, though she noticed his hold loosened.

“You’re mad.”

“I am not mad, love.”

Yep, he was mad. He’d stopped using contractions. He got clipped and formal when he was mad.

“I am merely irritated by your obvious lack of understanding,” he continued as he turned down a hall that led to the city offices. It was quieter in this part of the building. “I was under the assumption that we began a relationship earlier today, one in which I called the shots.”

“In the bedroom,” Jen replied.

He stopped in the middle of the hall. “I asked you to do one thing, Jennifer. I asked you to wait for me. You were to wait at home while I helped Max and Rye, and then I was going to come and get you. Was that such an unreasonable request?”

“It seemed like it at the time.” At the time, she’d been a bit miffed.

“You have never driven in the winter in the mountains. The whole time you lived here, you never had a car.” She growled inwardly. That request was seeming more and more reasonable all the time. “Your dad drove me.”

“It has been a long time since he drove himself anywhere. He has a limo. I asked him to stay at home, too.”

“Yeah, he wasn’t happy about that. Stef, you have to talk to him.

He came all this way.”

His eyes hardened. “I have been here for almost twenty-five years waiting for him. He can stand an afternoon.”

“Babe, he’s been sick,” Jen said.

Something dark passed over his eyes, and for a second, Jen wished she could take it back. His shoulders squared again, and the brief flare of pain she’d seen was covered up in bravado.

“Are you going to obey me, or do we quit here?” It was so much easier to not fight him now that she saw his arrogance for what it was. King Stefan tried to keep everyone at arm’s length because he needed the control. He needed to be needed. He needed to have a place here, and the only way he was sure of that place was to be the generous benefactor, to be useful to everyone around him. But what did Stef need?

He needed her. She felt it deep in her bones.

“I’m not quitting, babe. I told Rachel, I’m making my stand.” His stance relaxed slightly. “Well, love, make your stand in here.” He used a key to open the door to an office in the hallway. Jen briefly saw the nameplate. County Engineer.

“Nice, I didn’t even know we had one of those,” Jen said as he hustled her in. He flicked the lights on, and Jen glanced around the room. “Oh, it’s you.”

It had to be. No one else would have hooks in the ceiling. Oh, sure, to the untrained eye it probably looked like he was a man who liked really heavy hanging plants, but Jen knew the difference. Stef just liked to be perverse in a lot of different places.

There was a click as he locked the door. “I like to do my part to help the community. I almost never use this office, but it’s here if I need to take a meeting with someone from out of town. Most of the people in town prefer to hold meetings at Stella’s. The coffee is better. I’m mostly in charge of planning and beautification. Now strip.”

He stared at her, one brow arched, his back against the door.

It looked like she would make her stand without any clothes on.

Jen shrugged out of her coat and kicked off her boots.

“Fold them, please,” Stef said. His voice was deep and steady, but she could see that his eyes were heating up. They were a glorious slate color as he watched her.

At least he’d said please. Jen carefully folded the clothes as she took them off. She shivered a little despite the heat being on. It was still chilly. Her nipples were hard nubs pointing in Stef’s direction. It had nothing to do with the cold. They always pointed Stef’s direction.

A little quiver started in her belly. She was alone with Stef, and all of that intensity of his was focused on her.

“I’m going to teach you some things, love.” His sensual lips moved, but his eyes never left her body. “Your training begins now.

Do you understand why I intend to punish you?” She swallowed. Punishment. He made the word sound like dirty, sick pleasure. “Because I disobeyed you.”

“Yes,” Stef agreed. He slid his hands into the inside pocket of his coat and came out with a plastic bag. “You disobeyed a direct order given for your safety and my peace of mind. I didn’t ask you to stay home. I told you to. I understand that might upset you, but from time to time I will have things I won’t move on. This isn’t a one-way street, Jennifer. It might seem harsh to you, but I assume there are some things you will be unmoving on.” While he spoke, he set the bag on his desk and then slid his coat off his shoulders. He hung it up, along with his hat, and went around to the front of his desk.

Jen stood still, waiting for his orders. It might not be the bedroom, but it certainly felt intimate. She’d agreed to play his submissive. “I didn’t know I had that power over you, Stef.” He turned his face to her, a slight smile on his mouth. “Really? So I’m allowed to fuck other girls, am I?” She felt herself flush. “I will cut your balls off.” She immediately regretted her words, but the image of him with another woman made her want to rage. She’d had to handle it when they weren’t together. It might only be a D/s relationship, but she simply couldn’t watch him with someone else. She waited for him to put her in her place.

He simply chuckled lightly as he pulled out office supplies. “I rather thought so, love. As I prefer my balls attached to my body, I think I’ll forgo the other women. See, you have unmoving edicts, and so do I. One of my unmoving edicts is that you remain alive and in one piece.”

“Well, if you put it that way,” Jen grumbled. He was making her crazy. She was standing there naked, and he was playing with paper clips. He pulled at one and then another.

“I didn’t realize I had to put it a particular way,” he said as he twisted the metal clip over his forefinger. “Perfect.” He laid the first one down and went to work on the second. “As far as unmoving edicts go, let me give you a second. I realize that sharing seems to be all the rage amongst the women of Bliss, but you should know that I will not be jumping on that particular bandwagon. Don’t go looking for a third.”

That was the furthest thing from her mind. She could barely handle Stef, much less a friend of his. “You’re safe, babe. I know Callie and Rachel go on and on about how hot the sex is, but they have to do the laundry, too. Other women see hot double penetration, and all I see is double the underwear to clean. And I bet they eat a lot, too.”

Stef laughed, the first time today he’d laughed for her. “I don’t think you’ll have to do much laundry at the estate. However, you deeply underestimate my creativity if you think I can’t find a way to fill every hot hole you have, love. On your knees, Jennifer. I’m going to teach you the slave position.”

She sank to her knees, grateful he’d had a plush carpet installed instead of the stained concrete that covered the rest of town hall. She settled into a sitting position, the carpet soft under her legs. Of course, Stef would have his comforts. She threaded her fingers together behind her back, thrusting her breasts out. She breathed deeply and straightened her spine. Her knees were splayed wide so her pussy was on display for him. She lowered her head submissively. It wasn’t more than a few seconds before his boots came into view.

“Very nice, love. Tell me, and think carefully about the answer, where did you learn this? You have perfect form.”

The jealousy dripped from his every word. She was glad her head was lowered and her hair covered her face, because she couldn’t help but smile. He thought she’d had a previous Dom. “I learned it from books. You would be surprised what you can find on Amazon these days. And the Internet. I wanted to know what you liked, Sir.” His hand lifted her chin up. “Not Sir, Jennifer, and not Master. My name is Stefan.”

“But, I thought your subs called you one or the other.”

“They weren’t mine,” Stef explained. “They were women I trained for brief periods of time.”

“I thought that’s what I was.” She pointed out his faulty logic gently.

“I would prefer Stefan.” He stepped back.

She kept her gaze on him. He might not recognize it, but he was starting to bend.

“Stay in position. I need to decorate these lovely breasts,” he said, holding the clips in his hand.

“Those are paper clips.” Jen watched as he got on his knees in front of her. His hands came out to cup her breasts. Her skin quivered under his touch.

“Are they? I think I can make them into something much more interesting. Don’t move. Stay in your position. These lovely breasts of yours are my playthings.”

His fingers were callused from holding a brush for long hours. It wasn’t just from painting though. Stef worked with his hands all the time. He worked the horses at the Harper Stables. He helped build with his neighbors. He was always using those hands to create. Now his strong fingers pinched at her nipples, creating a deep ache in her pussy. He plucked at a nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. Her pussy was already wet, and she could feel her body begin to hum.

“I love the color of your nipples, perfect innocent circles of rose and brown.” He leaned over, his husky words sliding over her flesh like a warm blanket. He lowered his head, and his tongue came out.

The sight of his tongue curling around her nipple caused her to moan.

He sucked the tip into his mouth, sending sparks shooting from her breast to her cunt.

“This isn’t torture, Stef,” she heard herself say. It felt like heaven.

He came back to his knees, a slightly sinister look on his face. He winked at her and held up the paper clip. “Oh, it will definitely be torture, love.”

He pinched her nipple with one hand and then slid the clip on.

Jen gasped as her nipple was caught in the clip. It didn’t hurt exactly. He’d stretched it out so it didn’t bite, but it held the flesh in a little vise. Already she could feel the pull of the discomfort. It reminded her that he was in control. She was a plaything, clamped and ready for his pleasure.

He quickly clamped the other breast and looked at his handiwork.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, love.” His cock was straining at the fly of his jeans. His dark hair fell over his forehead. “I know those are improvised clamps, but they still hold you well. All the blood is pooling in those pretty nipples.”

He flicked one with his forefinger. Jen gasped at the touch. She was so sensitive. One little flick of his fingers had her panting and ready to do anything he asked.

“See what I mean? You should know, Jennifer, that I like toys. I like expensive, perverted, twisted toys, but I can torture you without them. Anywhere, anytime. I’ll find the tools I need. I’ll make sure to discipline you whenever it’s required.” Yep, she wouldn’t be able to walk through an office supply store again without wondering exactly what dirty things Stef could do to her.

His hand went between her legs. He slid his fingers over her mound and into the slick folds of her labia. It was all Jen could do to keep her position.

“And, love, if you ever disobey a direct order given to keep you safe and whole again, I will clamp this little gem.” He rubbed the pad of his finger over her desperate clitoris. It was a fleeting touch that tantalized and tormented. “I will clamp it, and I will torture it. I’ll bring you to the edge a hundred times, and a hundred times I’ll step back. You’ll beg, and you’ll plead, and you’ll think I’ll give in, but I won’t, because a bratty little submissive will not get pleasure from me. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” She would agree to anything to get him to touch her again.

He was ramping her up. She’d never been so hot. Before, their encounters had been quick and furious, but this slow tease was building to something explosive.

“What did you say?” Menace glittered from his hard tone.

“Stefan.” She quickly corrected herself. “Yes, I understand, Stefan.”

“Excellent. Let’s move on to the next phase of your punishment.

Surely you didn’t think a couple of clamps could make up for what you did? What does a disobedient sub deserve?” Hopefully a mercy orgasm. “Whatever her Dom deems fit, Stefan.”

“Good answer. I think a disobedient little sub should learn to take a plug.”

Her ass clenched at the thought. He was going to shove a plug up her ass. Her breath caught. She’d known he would want it, but she’d been worried it would turn her off. Now, the thought of presenting her ass to him had her heart speeding up. Subspace, she thought, looking for the word. Pleasing Stefan suddenly seemed like pleasure in and of itself. This was what the books had talked about.

“You said you’ve read up on BDSM,” Stef said, getting to his feet. “Show me. Present yourself to me.” He held a hand out to help her up.

Jen got to her feet. She could feel the clamps moving as her breasts swayed. This was why he’d done it, so she would be aware of her nipples at all times. She felt wobbly, but she managed to stand and walk to the big mahogany desk that dominated the office. She placed her hands flat on the desk, kept her spine straight, and shoved her ass in the air. She looked across the desk. Now she could see what was in the bag Stef had taken out of his coat. The clear plastic plug and tube of lubricant were unmistakable.

“You came prepared.” At least he wasn’t going to use a highlighter or a glue stick.

“Always,” he said. Jen felt him reach for the bag. “Keep your eyes front.”

She gritted her teeth. Not being able to see what he was doing was going to be torture in and of itself.

“Your skin is beautiful, Jennifer.”

He placed his palms on her shoulder blades. She relaxed at the contact. Somehow she didn’t feel as off kilter when he touched her.

When he touched her with those hands of his, she felt like a work in progress, like a sculpture he was molding lovingly. She felt like she was being brought to life.

His hands caressed her as though studying and memorizing her every curve and angle. He skimmed her back and molded her hips.

She felt his lips on the nape of her neck. He traced her spine with his lips, awakening every inch of her flesh. She felt his mouth on the small of her back and then his hands on her cheeks. She went onto her toes as he spread her wide.

“Look at the pretty asshole.” His voice had gone deep and husky.

“What a pretty little hole. It looks lonely, love. It looks like it needs to be filled.”

She braced herself as she felt the cool lube hit her anus. She held on to the desk as his finger rimmed her asshole. He massaged the lube into her ass, his finger pressing in and circling her hole. She shivered at the dark sensation of his finger working her over.

“You’re very tight, love.” He placed one hand on the small of her back, holding her down as he pushed his finger deep inside her. “It’s going to be hard for you to take this plug, and even harder for you to take my cock, but you’ll do it. You’ll take everything I give you, and you’ll thank me for it.”

She wasn’t sure about the part where she thanked him. The sensation was strange. It didn’t hurt, but she wasn’t sure it was pleasure either. It was unnerving, and she felt a bit on edge as he pressed into her.

“Not sure, yet? You will be. I’ll make sure you’re ready for me. I can’t wait to fuck this tight asshole. I’m going to ram my cock into you. You’ll whimper a little, but by the time I’m done, you’ll writhe under me. You’ll cry out and beg me to fuck your ass.” His finger disappeared, and then she felt something stiff tickling at her anus. She couldn’t help it. She clenched her muscles, instinctively trying to keep the foreign object out.

A crack whipped through the room as Stef’s hand came down on her ass. Heat and a sharp pain singed her.

“Don’t you try to keep me out. This belongs to me. You belong to me. Now relax and open up.” He pressed the plug against her again.

His voice became softer and more cajoling. “Let me in, Jennifer. I want to come in. I promise you won’t regret it.” The hand on her back soothed her as he pressed the plug to her anus.

“Breathe out, love. Breathe out, and flatten your back.” Jen tried to relax. She filled her lungs and let the breath go while she pressed back against Stef’s hand. She groaned a little as the plug breached her hole.

“Now that is a beautiful sight. You’re doing so well.” Jen forced her ass back and felt the plug slide home. Jen’s hands shook at the almost unbearable fullness in her ass. Stef kept her cheeks open.

“Do you have any idea what this does to me? I want to know you’re walking around with this little piece of plastic shoved up your rectum because you’re preparing yourself for me. You’re getting ready to take my cock.”

Without warning, his fingers slid into her pussy.

Jen bit her lip to keep from crying out.

“See, the plug makes your already tight cunt even tighter. I don’t have to share you with some other man to fill you up.” He pressed a single finger deep inside her. “You are so wet for me, Jennifer.

Someone liked having her ass plugged. Someone likes being a nasty girl.”

She liked being his nasty girl. Somehow Stef made all the dirty stuff seem loving. His hands caressed her sweetly even as he whispered filth into her ear. He worshipped her even as he played the big, bad Dom.

“How are you going to take care of your Master, little sub? You put him through hell today. He deserves a little stress relief. Can you think of any way to make it up to him?” She felt the heat of his body as he pressed against her. His fingers teased her soaking flesh as he nudged her insistently with his hard cock. Oh, she wanted him to take out that big dick and thrust it into her. Nothing else could possibly satisfy her, but more than that, she wanted to please him. This was what it meant to play with Stef, and she wanted to play her part.

“Let me please you, Stefan.”

He chuckled and ran his free hand through her hair. “How are you going to do that, love?”

Stef liked dirty talk, so she searched her brain for the right words.

“Let me suck you. Let me lick you. Give me your cum, Stefan. I want to taste you so badly.”

His cock seemed to swell against her, and he pulled his hand out of her hair. Before she could move, he was hauling her up. He turned her around, and his face was ferocious with desire. His breath came out in short pants. “Yes. That will do. I’m going to teach you how to suck my cock, sub. I’m going to teach you how to please your Master.”

He pressed his lips against hers in an oddly innocent kiss. He brushed her mouth, barely a touch, but she felt it deep inside her body. He released her and sat down in his big-backed chair, slouching down slightly so his cock was up and easily accessible. “Get on your knees, but hold those cheeks together. Don’t lose the plug. Hold your knees wide, as wide as you can, and clench that rosy little ass.” Jen did as he asked. It was hard, but she held the plug tight as she gingerly dropped to her knees in front of him.

“Open my jeans.”

Jen put her shaky hands on the fly of his jeans. She’d dreamed about this. She’d fantasized about the moment when she would hold him in her hands and blow his mind, but it was different. Her fantasies had been about proving to him that she was his match. Now, as she slid her hands into his jeans, all she could think about was how much she wanted to taste him. She wanted to run her tongue all over him and listen to him moan, and beyond anything, she wanted that moment when they connected, when he flowed into her. Before, she’d wanted power over him. Now, she simply wanted to be with him.

“I’m crazy about you.” Stef’s voice was quiet in the room, but there was no way she could miss his husky declaration.

Her heart filled as he looked down at her. She was crazy about him, too. She loved him. She wouldn’t ever love anyone the way she loved Stefan Talbot. Saying he was crazy about her wasn’t exactly a declaration of love, but she was closer than she had been.

“Kiss my cock, love.”

She leaned forward and placed a small kiss on the silky head of his dick. His cock was truly a thing of beauty. Thick and long, Stef’s cock rose from between his powerfully muscled legs. The head was a deep, rich plum. She kissed the lovely V on his dick, letting her tongue come out to trace the edges. A drop of pearly fluid pulsed out.

She licked it up, his taste a salty intoxication.

“That’s right,” he encouraged her. His hand came out to cup her hair. “That feels perfect. Suck me in, just a little at a time.” She would have to take him a bit at a time. He was large, and he would fill her mouth in no time. She gently sucked the head into her mouth, her tongue swirling around, gathering his cream. She groaned as she took him in, inch by inch by inch. All the while, as she sucked and loved him with a worshipping tongue, she imagined the big cock in her mouth plundering her pussy. She never felt closer to another human being than she did when Stef slid in and out of her body.

“I don’t have to tell you anything, do I, love? You know what I need. Make me come.”

He threaded his hands in her hair and thrust his cock up. She opened her jaw wide, taking in more and more of him. She was patient, licking gently on the way down and sucking with strength as she made her way back up. She let her hand run down to cup his heavy balls.

Stef groaned. His breath was ragged, rattling out of his chest.

“Yes, love. Harder. Suck me hard. Pull the cum out of my balls.” Jen gave up on subtleties. She sucked, drawing the cock into her mouth all the way to the back of her throat. She drew on him over and over, all the while aware of how he surrounded her. She could taste the masculine salt of his cum, smell his clean, musky scent. Though he was only touching her hair, she felt him everywhere. She felt the clamps on her breasts, and the plug in her ass, all signs of his possession. Her body felt hot, as though she was the one about to come. His cock swelled in her mouth. He whispered her name over and over, like a mantra. Jen took him as far as she could and swallowed around him as he came.

Hot, salty spurts coated her tongue. Jen groaned as she licked it all up.

When she looked at him, Stef’s head was thrown back. His hands stroked her hair, but his eyes were closed as he caught his breath. His cock was still big even after he’d given her all the cum he’d had.

Relaxed, he was still an impressive specimen. Jen couldn’t help but kiss him again, her mouth playing over the head. His cock twitched and seemed to come back to life.

It was perfect, because Jen needed to play. The ache in her body was becoming unbearable. She needed him so badly. A deliciously wicked feeling came over her. She would suck him back to life, and then he would fuck her hard until she screamed out his name.

Being Stef’s sub was going to be heaven.

“Very good, love,” he said, pushing the chair back. “You may stand.”

All of the warmth had left his voice. She looked up, and there was a hardness to his eyes that had been absent even when he’d placed the clips on her breasts.

Jen struggled to her feet, the plug in her butt an annoyance now.

She clenched her cheeks to keep it in. For the first time since they’d begun to play, she felt the chill in the air.

Stef quickly tucked his stiffening cock into his jeans and buttoned his fly. He took a deep breath and stood. He towered over her, his jaw set like granite as he stared down at her.

“You did well for a novice. No swats today, though if you disobey again you’ll spend some time on my whipping bench. You’ll wear the plug for the rest of the afternoon. I’ll take it out when we get home. If I find out you’ve removed it yourself, it’s twenty swats and I won’t take you with me tomorrow. Is that understood?” A sick feeling began in the pit of her stomach. She’d thought they were playing, but this felt like something else. She’d read about BDSM and the importance of punishment and reward, but she’d never realized how it would feel. As connected as she’d felt to him before, she felt alone now. Alone and naked and wanting.

A little smirk played at his mouth. “Oh, love, did you think I would take care of you? You disobeyed. Disobedient little subs don’t deserve their Master’s cock. This is what it means to be my sub. This is what it means to be with me. Changing your mind?”

She said nothing, very aware that the Jen of months ago would have told him to go to hell and walked out. Now, she just felt an aching sadness. They could be more than this, but he either didn’t see it or didn’t want it. Was she willing to give up? She stood there naked with signs of his possession biting into her and thought about what she’d said to Rachel. Whatever she decided, she couldn’t do it now.

Her pain was fresh. To walk out spewing expletives would simply start their cycle again. For the first time, Jen really understood that this was their last shot. She would be with him, or give him up.

Tears pooled in her eyes. She really needed to be alone for a while, to calm down, to think.

“Can I tell you later?” Her voice was soft in the quiet of the room.

Stef’s mouth opened and then closed. He seemed briefly out of sorts before he found that Dom stance of his again. “Of course. Take the time you need. I would prefer you keep the plug in, in case you decide to stay. It would be rough on you to have to start over again.” The damn plug was the least rough thing about this. Her anus might be stretched, but her heart was getting battered. She might have to accept that her love was no match for Stef’s childhood. She nodded. If she spoke she would cry, and that wasn’t what either of them wanted.

His hands moved to her breasts. She took a step back.

“Don’t,” he growled at her. “I’m trying to unclamp you. It’s going to hurt.”

He slid the first clip off her nipple. The blood rushed back in, stinging and burning. She gasped as he quickly slid the other off.

“It will only hurt for a minute,” he muttered, stepping back. “You should get dressed.”

Jen covered her breasts with her hands and nodded. “I will. Could I have a minute to myself?”

“Why?”

Trust and honesty. That was what a Dom required. Well, she’d given him everything else. He’d stripped her bare and left her wanting. Maybe he should have this, too. The truth was she was far too tired and aching to prevaricate. “So I can cry for a while.” His eyes flared. “Because I didn’t fuck you?” If he didn’t leave soon, she was going to lose it. “Because it was less than I thought it would be.”

He laughed, but there was bitterness in the sound. “You thought I would fall at your feet. You thought you could give me a blow job and I would just fall all over myself. It doesn’t work that way, Jennifer.”

“I didn’t think you would fall at my feet, Stef,” she said wearily.

He would perpetually think of her as a selfish child. “I just thought we would be together. I felt so connected to you. It was like I was a part of something special—something just for us—but you can’t have felt that. You wouldn’t be able to walk away if you felt the way I did. It hurts to be alone when I thought, just for a minute, that I wasn’t anymore.”

He didn’t seem to have a Dom homily to give her for that. He stared for a moment and then turned to go. Seeing his back to her made her heart clench. She had to turn away. He was forever walking away from her. Why couldn’t she do the same? Even when she’d run from him, she’d seen him in her dreams every night. He’d come between her and the men she’d thought about dating. She’d been like a nun because he was always in her mind, in her work, in her heart.

She heard the door close behind him and couldn’t help the sob that came out of her throat. It was time to get dressed. She needed to compose herself. She couldn’t walk around the festival like this.

Maybe she could find a ride home. She wanted to sink to the floor and sob, but then she might lose that goddamn plug. Her breath hitched.

She felt so stupid.

“Don’t.”

She turned suddenly, crossing her arms over her breasts. Stef stood there, his face as open as she’d ever seen it. There was no Dom to him, simply a man who looked like he was on the verge of heartbreak.

“Stef?”

He shook his head. “I can’t.”

It sounded like an apology to her, something final. She didn’t try to stop the tears that flowed. She felt them fall down her cheeks, hitting her naked chest. She wished she had gotten dressed. Hearing him say he couldn’t even try to love her would have been a slight bit easier if she weren’t so naked.

“It’s okay, Stef.” He looked utterly miserable, his composure gone. She hadn’t meant to bring him to that. He needed his control.

She wouldn’t take it from him. She should have stayed in Dallas. She would never have come back if she’d known it could hurt him this way.

“It’s not. It’s never going to be okay.” Stef’s hands clenched at his side.

It would be once she stopped pushing him. He’d been all right before she came around. He’d been all right before she forced her way in. She wouldn’t leave Bliss, but she would respect his needs from here on out. “It will be okay. You’ll see. Give it time.”

“I’ll never be okay when you cry, love.” He moved forward, but it was jerky, as though he’d lost all grace. His hands came out and hauled her into his arms. “I can’t leave you like this. I don’t even want to. Forgive me.”

He pulled her close, pressing her against his chest so she was surrounded with him again. This time, though, she could hear his heartbeat, feel the uncertainty in his breath. This time he was here with her in spirit as well as body, utterly and completely.

Jen turned her face up, a deep relief in her soul. “I love you.” His eyes closed for a brief moment as though the words had a physical impact on him. “That means the world to me, love. I want so much more for you, though. You deserve to have so much more.”

“But I just want you.” It wasn’t true. She wanted more. She wanted a life here with him, and she wanted kids someday in the not-too-distant future. She wanted what she’d never had—roots. It all started with him. He was her foundation. His strong, giving heart was everything she’d ever wanted in a man.

“I know you think you do.” He brushed his lips against hers. “Can we not fight about this now? I want very much to erase the last couple of minutes. I want to take care of you.” His hands trailed down to the globes of her ass, cupping her, pressing her against his core where his cock was stiff and full again. “Let me take care of you.”

“Yes.” She wanted him so badly. The weary sadness that had taken her over was shoved aside by rampaging desire. She needed him.

He took her mouth, plunging his tongue in and dominating her with a singular purpose. His tongue glided against hers in a silky imitation of what she wanted his cock to do. He rubbed his body against hers as though he could imprint himself on her.

“This is so wrong,” he said.

“It’s not,” she tried to plead.

“Not the sex, love.” He chuckled, an open grin on his face as he pulled at the buttons of his shirt, revealing his rock-hard chest. “I’m talking about the fact that my club is going to request that I turn in my leathers. I’m being a terrible Dom.”

He kicked off his boots hastily and shoved his jeans off. He dropped them and left them on the floor in his hurry to get back against her. His cock stood straight out, and then it was pressed between them as he hugged her to him.

“I won’t tell,” she assured him. She let her hands roam for the first time. His skin was soft over the hard pack of his muscled frame. Only his hands were rough and callused from work. Those hands thrilled her as he explored her body.

“Yes, you will, love,” he commanded, and he kissed her neck.

“You’ll tell everyone what a big, nasty Dom you have.”

She hissed as he bent his head and kissed her nipples. He was painstakingly gentle with them. “I will. I’ll tell them how you torment me.”

He licked at her nipples, sucking on them softly, lighting a fire in her cunt. “I’m wicked with you. I don’t let you get out of line. When you get out of line, I torture you.”

He was doing just that. His fingers split her labia, sinking in and drawing out her juices. He bent over, and his tongue found her clit.

“Oh, god, yes, you do. You’re cruel, Stef. You bring me to the edge again and again. You fill my ass and clamp my breasts and make me pleasure you.”

He sucked her clit into his mouth as he pressed two fingers high into her cunt. “I make you see to my needs and fill none of yours when you’re a bad sub. I fuck your mouth and spank that ass of yours until it’s a hot pink and you can feel the imprint of my hand on your skin. I tie you up, shove a vibrator up your cunt, and alternate between teasing your G-spot and using a flogger on your pretty backside. You never disobey me again.”

“Never again.”

Stef got up and moved to the chair. He sat down and held out his hand. “Come on, love. Come ride me.”

Jen caught her breath at the sight of him. He was decadence personified. She took his hand and straddled him, her knees sinking into the plush leather of the big chair. Stef reached between their bodies, lining his cock up to her pussy.

“I want to watch.” His head was down. His eyes were fully focused on the place where their bodies met.

There was her pervy boy. Jen leaned back slightly so he couldn’t miss the sight of his huge dick invading her pussy. He gripped her cheeks, pulling her down inch by inch. Every centimeter was pure pleasure. He stretched her, filling her with his hard flesh, making himself a part of her.

“You’re so fucking tight like this.” He ground the words out as she felt his hands split her ass cheeks. His fingers touched the plug, making her shiver. She sank her fingers into his shoulders as he gently eased the plug a little ways out. Nerves she’d never felt before sprang to vivid life.

“Oh, Stef, that’s amazing.” She breathed out as he fucked the plug back in.

His voice was low, guttural. “I can handle you, love. We don’t need a third. I can fuck you the way you need it.” He pulled on the plug as he thrust his dick up, proving his point.

Jen was filled with him. She’d never been so full. She sank onto his cock and forced herself back up, riding him like the stud he was. She found a perfect rhythm that had the plug and his cock in exquisite parallel. When she lowered herself on his cock, he pulled the plug out to almost the rim of her anus, firing off every nerve in her rectum. He pushed it back in when she rose, the feeling of fullness unrelenting.

Every movement brought her closer to that magic place only Stef had ever taken her to. She fucked him with abandon, seeking her pleasure with every bit as much passion as she’d given him his.

“That’s right, love,” Stef said, his motions becoming wickedly wild. “Come for me. Come all over my cock. Make me feel it.” She felt the command in her clit. He pushed up with his pelvis, grinding against her, and she went flying. The orgasm rushed over her like a wildfire sweeping through her veins. She cried out as she fought for every second of pleasure she could get.

Stef’s body stiffened under her hands. He shook as he came, his gorgeous face contorting with pleasure.

Jen fell forward into the circle of his arms. Without hesitation, he held her close, their breaths, bodies, and heartbeats one.

Chapter Twelve

Stef had to breathe deeply to get his heart rate down. His blood pounded languorously through his body, satisfaction invading his veins. Jen was wrapped around him, and the world, briefly, seemed utterly perfect to him. She’d submitted in the sweetest way possible.

She’d accepted everything he’d given her with grace and a gorgeous sexuality that floored him. He was the one who screwed it up.

Why had he thought he could walk away from her? He’d never been able to do it. Even when he got the slightest bit away from her, he’d come running back every time. The minute he’d seen her face fall, his heart had clenched. He’d made it to the door, but he’d shut it again, knowing he’d never be able to leave her alone and miserable.

God, he loved her.

His hands tightened. He let the truth wash over him. He loved Jennifer Waters with his whole heart, but he’d never be able to keep her. She was too talented, too young to commit herself for her whole life. She needed to see the world and everything it had to offer.

Maybe in ten years or so she could make a decision, but until then he had to be unselfish.

“Stop.” Her head had come up, and she stared down into his eyes.

There was a plea there. “Can’t we have a few days? Just a couple of days where we don’t fight or think about the future?” She could read his fucking mind. This time around was so different. Since she’d come back to Bliss, she’d been focused on him, his moods, his thoughts. It made him feel like the center of the universe. God, he couldn’t deny her. Not when it was everything he wanted. He would have to let her go soon enough. What was a few days of paradise?

He smoothed back her hair and pulled her close, loving the way their bodies were stuck together, their juices mingling. She would walk around the rest of the day with his cum in her sweet cunt. He pulled her head down. “Of course, love. I want that, too.” He let his lips play against hers. He loved how soft she was. Her lips were pliant beneath his. He could play with her all day. A week, that was all he could give himself. Otherwise, he would take her.

Already the impulse was there to brand her as his. He had a sudden vision of working with her curled at his feet. Her skin was so porcelain, so perfect, that she could be his palette. He could have her stretch out when he was ready and use her torso to mix his paints. He would bend down when he needed to dip his brush in, and as for inspiration—all he would need to do is look down.

He shook his head. He was already going to that innately selfish place where all that mattered were his own needs. He would put it out of his mind for now. He had plans for Jennifer. When those came to fruition, he would have long years without her. He should enjoy himself while he could. He took a long, last drag from her lips. “What do you want to do today, love? Do you want to watch the snowboarding? Or we could join in the snowman competition.” A smile of pure pleasure crossed her lips. It did odd things to his heart. “We could kick everyone’s ass, Stef.” He laughed a bit. “I don’t know. Henry and Nell have been practicing.”

Her pretty mouth went down in a frowning pout. “Well, of course they’ve been practicing. What else do they have to do? How do they live? I mean it, Stef. They don’t have jobs. I seriously doubt that protesting pays. So how do they maintain that cabin of theirs?” Stef grinned. He couldn’t help it. He knew something no one else knew, and he wasn’t going to tell. If Nell and Henry wanted to write crazy erotic romance that mirrored some of the things that happened in town, more power to them. The only reason he knew was he’d been the one to find them a lawyer to set up their LLC. Bliss was lawyer free. It was written into the town’s charter. Stef had very quietly helped the pair out, and now he would be silent as the grave. “I guess they’re just lucky. Maybe Henry had some family money.” What they had was a pseudonym and an e-publisher. They had made more money off their crazy polyamorous romances than Stef would have believed possible. He knew that because he’d also let them use his accountant. Henry and Nell had asked him to show some discretion, and after reading their latest, he’d decided it was best for the peace of the town if he honored their request. It would make Max and Rye crazy that their adventures had been fictionalized. But it was hard, because he so wanted everyone to know just how filthy Nell’s mind was. Nate had once described her as a Disney princess and Henry as an asexual college professor.

Jen shook her head. She settled against him again. “Maybe.” He let his hands wander on her deliciously curved backside, and his brain moved on to more amorous thoughts than the snowman-building contest. He squeezed her ass. God, he couldn’t wait to fuck her there.

There was a loud knock on the door. Stef spun his head around.

Couldn’t he get a fucking moment’s privacy in this town?

“Stef? Seriously, take a goddamn break! We gotta move,” Max yelled from the other side of the door. Stef knew it was Max. Only Max could make Stef want to punch him with the sheer sound of his voice.

“Go away!” Stef yelled back.

“Can’t, Stef.” Now Callie’s voice split through his skull.

“We should start charging,” Jen said.

“I might start killing.” Stef’s little family was making him crazy.

He squeezed her ass one last time and kissed her lips sweetly before she slid off him. He was reaching for his jeans as he looked at the door. “This better be good.”

“It’s bad,” Callie said.

“We’re supposed to take you to the clinic,” Max chimed in.

Stef did up the fly of his jeans and felt his curiosity rise. “Why?”

“Because the Doc is doing an autopsy, and Nate thought you should see it,” Max shouted through the door.

“Get dressed,” Stef barked at Jen. His every nerve was awake, alive, and afraid.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Stef stared down at the body of one Cindy Pope, aged twenty-one. There was no way he could mistake the resemblance between the dead girl and his Jennifer. They were both brunettes, roughly the same age and build. If a person just glanced at the two, they might think they were the same woman.

“I wondered why there was a backpack in our trash bin.” Marie shook her very sensible head. “Teeny had gone out to take the paid bags out, and she found a very nice pack. And still full of her things.

Such a shame.”

“Well, it wasn’t aliens.” A no-nonsense voice spoke up. Stef turned to see a slender, petite female of maybe sixty years pursing her lips. She wore comfortable working clothes, and her long, steel-colored hair was in a braid that went halfway down her back. She stood beside Mel, her arms crossed over her chest. “They use lasers.”

“Yep.” Mel simply nodded his agreement and stared down at the woman like she was a font of knowledge.

Dear god, Mel was in love. Heaven help everyone.

“So, no laser, Doc?” Stef would leave the actual professional opinion to the man in the green scrubs. As far as he could tell, Caleb Burke might be just as certifiable as Mel, but at least he’d gone to medical school.

“Nah,” Caleb replied. “It was a knife.”

No shit. Stef felt his stomach turn. The girl was just a kid. She was lying on a slab in a clinic in a town she hadn’t been born in. A sick feeling came over him, panic threatening. He’d known this wasn’t over. How the hell had they caught up with her? “Same as Renard?” Caleb’s face was a grim mask as he looked back at Stef. “I believe so, though I didn’t see that body personally. From the way it was described to me, I have to think it’s a possibility. There’s no hesitation here. It’s clean. Mel and his friend, Cassidy Meyer, found her in the river out by 285.”

Mel let his hand drift to the small woman’s shoulder. “We were out on the alien highway. Our group was securing the recon platform.

Cassidy here was making sure the telescope was working. That’s when she saw the poor girl. We knew it wasn’t an alien thing right away. They would never kill a fertile, young female. They would probe her.”

The woman named Cassidy, who Stef deeply feared Mel had probably met on the Internet, nodded her agreement. “She’s a prime specimen for their fertility experimentations.” Nice. He’d found someone as crazy as he was.

Dr. Burke turned on the couple, his hand out as though seeking to ward off further paranoia. “Rachel is fine. I promise.” Cassidy waved her hand. “I know that, Doc. I don’t worry about it. I gave birth to two alien babies, and they’re just fine. Sweetest boys you ever saw. They both went into the Navy. Did their country and their mama proud. One of them has some weird ideas, but he’s a good man. They like beets, though. Couldn’t get enough of them when they were boys. We should tell Rachel to stock up.”

“Cassidy raised some fine kids. You wouldn’t ever know they’re half alien,” Mel said with a proud smile.

“I think that’s all we need, Mel,” Nate said, walking into the small room that currently served as the Bliss County Morgue. He was a familiar, welcome figure of authority. “And you, too, Marie. I appreciate everything. Logan can take the rest of your statements.

Y’all go on. Enjoy the festival.”

In a few seconds the room cleared, and Stef was left with Caleb and Nate.

“Is this what I think it is?” Stef couldn’t help the tight, almost violent way the question came out of his mouth.

Nate sighed. “I don’t know. I have to think we should consider the fact that what happened to Jennifer in Dallas is connected to this. We haven’t had a murder in Bliss County since…well, we’ve had several, but they were mostly self-defense. This is very different.” Caleb pointed to the body, his finger gesturing to the line of her throat. It was split neatly, the skin blue from the cold of the river and the fact that she’d left life behind hours before. “It’s a professional job. Neat, surgical. He didn’t do more than he had to do here, but look at her stomach.”

Burke pulled back the drab blue sheet that covered the girl. Her body was a map of blue and purple bruises.

“He beat her.” Stef couldn’t imagine it.

“He tortured her,” Caleb corrected. “There’s a systematic pattern to the bruising that tells me he was very controlled when he did this.

There’s nothing that hints at someone who was out of control. He didn’t touch her face. He went for soft parts of the body. He knew what he was doing.”

Nate was staring down at her wrists. “She was tied up.” Stef flinched at the chaffing on her wrists. She’d been tied too tightly. Caleb turned the wrist over. The underside was perfectly smooth.

“I would assume she was tied to a chair,” Caleb said clinically.

“Look, I’ve never worked forensics. I was a surgeon, but I know the human body, and I know a little about interrogation techniques. If you asked me, right now, I would tell you that this young woman was tortured. Given the relative restraint of the violence, I would suspect that the man torturing her was a professional in search of something, information most likely. When he couldn’t get it out of her, he sliced her throat in a manner that would result in a very quick death. He then tossed her body in the river, which is sitting at roughly fifty degrees.

That kind of cold masks time of death, and due to the depth and speed of the water flow, we can’t know where the crime took place. If Teeny hadn’t found the pack, we wouldn’t know if she’d been here or somewhere upriver.”

“Logan and I have a grid to search all along the valley. Zane’s down there now with Rye Harper. If we find anything that could tell us where the dump took place, it could help.” Nate’s eyes had taken on that steely look he got when he was doing serious police work. It wasn’t hard to remember Nate Wright had once been a top DEA agent. Zane had been the same. Bliss might be a small town, but it had its share of veteran law enforcement.

The door to the clinic’s waiting room opened, and one of those former law enforcement employees walked in. Laura Niles looked slightly flustered, an adjective Stef almost never used for the cool blonde. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes narrowed as they honed in on Nate.

“I have been looking all over the town for you, Sheriff.” Nate’s eyebrows climbed his forehead under the brim of his Stetson. “It’s been a long morning, Laura. Actually, I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to ask you a couple of questions. You used to profile for the FBI, right?”

Laura had been one of their top profilers until an incident that caused her to walk out on a high-paying job. She’d found her way to Bliss, and now the Harvard-educated psychologist rang up tourists buying gas at the Stop’n’ Shop. She ran her perfectly manicured hands through her blonde hair, and if she had any problem standing in a room with a corpse, she didn’t show it. She’d barely looked down at the body, but now she let her eyes roam over it, a cool professionalism falling over her like a cloak.

“You want my opinion about this?” She stared at the body as though it was a thing rather than former housing for a soul. Stef couldn’t quite wrap his brain around it, but then he hadn’t worked for years in a job where death was all around him. Laura, he’d discovered, had made a name for herself by hunting serial killers. It wasn’t surprising that she’d learned to distance herself.

Nate nodded, and the doctor stepped aside, allowing Laura access to the corpse.

She was quiet for a moment, and when she spoke, her tone was academic, far from the bright, friendly tones he associated with Laura.

Even her husky Southern accent seemed to fade in favor of a flat, professional cadence.

“Any signs of sexual trauma?”

Caleb shook his head. “None, but I ran a rape kit anyway. She was in the water for awhile.”

“We won’t know how long until we can estimate a time of death.” Nate was cradling his cell in his hand. His face was haggard, and the morning seemed to have worn him down. “I haven’t even figured out when she went missing. Her mother talked to her last week. She was out with her boyfriend.”

“I doubt it was a boyfriend,” Laura murmured.

“It’s too clean,” Caleb insisted.

Laura’s lips pursed in agreement. “Far too clean. This is an incised wound. It’s going to be hard to determine the exact weapon beyond the fact that it was a knife. The killer stood behind the victim.”

“I thought so,” Caleb commented. His gloved finger traced the line of the fatal wound. “It starts high and ends lower on the neck. It’s also deep.”

“Yes, if he had been in front of her the wound would be more shallow. This is professional. There’s no passion in this kill. It was business, pure and simple, and this man takes pride in his work.

There’s a neat efficiency about the kill. You’re looking for a hired killer.” She turned on her heels and frowned at Nate. “Which brings me to why I was looking for you.”

“Laura, it’s going to have to wait.” Nate crossed his arms over his chest. “Right now I need to call some of my old contacts at the DEA.

If this is a Colombian cartel, we need to know.”

“I doubt it, Sheriff, unless Bliss has become the battleground for a nasty little bit of mob warfare.”

Nate turned to Laura. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I don’t think we’re a hot spot for criminal activity. You aren’t dealing with Colombians, but I would like to know why the hell the Russian mob is in town.”

* * *

The room was becoming slightly oppressive. Jen stared at the door to the clinic, wondering why it seemed like everyone in Bliss needed to parade in and out of what had just been designated the county morgue.

“Bad business,” Teeny said, shaking her head. Her little beak of a nose was turned down in what looked like sadness. “I can’t believe it.

Would you like some fudge?”

She held out a tray of perfectly cut fudge. She was wearing slacks and a pink sweater, and a lovingly detailed apron.

This was an autopsy in Bliss.

“No, thanks,” she said, giving Teeny a smile.

“I’ll take some, Momma.” Logan reached over and grabbed two squares, giving his mother a thumbs-up. “I’m going to take some back for Hope. Nate left her answering the phones for the day.”

“Me, too,” Rachel said, taking three. The dog at her feet whined.

She frowned at Jen. “Don’t look at me like that. Baby needs fudge.”

“And cookies.” Callie smiled at them, a huge tray of cookies in her arms. “Stella sent them. Apparently tragedy requires carbs. She’s on a tear. She’s been working nonstop. She made like a hundred sandwiches when she found out the Sheriff’s Department was working on a homicide. I had to tell her that there were really only like five people working the case, but then Zane inhaled four sandwiches, and I just let her work.”

“And you didn’t mention this to us, why?” Rachel asked, frowning at Callie.

Callie set the tray on the small reception desk. “First, Nate asked me to keep my mouth shut.”

“Since when has that stopped you?” Jen asked. It was no secret that Callie Hollister-Wright was the hub for information in Bliss.

“This is serious.” Callie pushed her glasses up her nose. “I knew it would upset Rachel, and after what you went through, it should upset you as well. Besides, I only knew they had found a body early this morning. It could have been an accident. We have a town full of tourists. The last thing we need is some sort of panic.”

“That is very mature of you,” Rachel said.

“Thanks.”

But Jen knew what that little frown on Rachel’s face meant, and she agreed with it whole-heartedly. “It wasn’t a compliment. We’re your best friends. You aren’t supposed to hold out on us.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Rachel replied, a finger pointing out in Callie’s direction. “Don’t start talking about your husbands. Who did you call when you put that dent in Nate’s new truck? Should I remind you that it wasn’t Nate? Was it Zane?”

“It was you, and you know it.” Callie crossed her arms over her chest. “Of course I called you. You have a really devious mind. I would never have thought about saying I was installing a satellite radio for his birthday and getting the damage fixed so he never knew about it.”

Jen grinned and gave Rachel a high five. “I would have gone with tinting his windows. See, Callie, you can love your husbands, but your girlfriends are the ones who get you out of trouble. I should know. If you two had been with me, I’m sure one of you would have pointed out what a damn weasel my boss was. Such a jerk. I was supposed to be the artist-in-residence, but he had me doing the stupidest crap.”

“Some men.” Rachel shook her head. “I remember my boss at my last job before coming to Bliss. He treated me like his barista.”

“Yeah, well, Jean Claude seemed to think I was a handy man. One of the last things the bastard had me do was—oh, yeah.” Just like that it fell in place, and she wanted to smack herself for not seeing it sooner. The day before she’d been arrested, he’d had her mess around with the security cameras. He’d complained that the security company would take too long. Bullshit. Bastard. Son of a bitch. He’d set her up, and she’d been too stupid to see it.

“What?” Callie asked, her eyes round under the glasses she wore.

“I know where that painting is.” Jen started for the door. “I was just about to give the damn thing to Rachel as a baby gift.”

“Whoa! You were about to give me a half-of-a-million-dollar, black-market Picasso? I thought it was just one of yours. Though they are beautiful.” Rachel’s mouth hung open. “That’s the awesomest present ever. Way better than the baby monitor that also acts as a SETI receiver. Baby boy’s going to college.” Jen reached for her coat. “You don’t get to keep it, Rach. It has to go back, but at least I know where it is. The nasty jerk hid it under the painting I was going to give to Rachel. He pulled the canvas off and hid the Picasso under mine. I wouldn’t be able to tell because he was a dipshit when it came to his personal life, but brilliant at what he did.

He just didn’t figure I would be a crazy perfectionist. I decided I could do better. I painted the whole damn thing again in one night and changed some of the colors. Renard must have called the police the minute he realized he no longer had the painting. Asshole.” Rachel flushed slightly. “Uhm, I kind of talked to Holly. The one you put back for me really didn’t go with the room. I might have talked Holly into switching it with the blue one. Don’t look at me like that. It’s a boy. Blue is for boys.”

There was no pleasing a client. Every artist knew it. “It’s fine, Rach. But that means the others are potentially up for sale. I need to get my hands on that painting. Tell Stef I’ve gone back to town hall, and he should meet me there when he can.” Callie was right behind her. “I’m going with you.” Jen brushed past Logan and Marie and out of the door of the clinic. The glare of the sun off the snow made everything seem vital and alive. She loved winter in Colorado, but her mind was on getting to the town hall. Her heart wasn’t going to slow down until she pulled the canvas off that painting and made certain that the Picasso was underneath. It was her sure ticket to getting that potential felony off her record. Once that oppressive weight was off her, perhaps Stef could see her as something other than a girl constantly in trouble.

The clinic was on the end of Main Street. It was quieter here. Up ahead, she could see that the festival was in full whirl, but here, there was an almost eerie quiet. She turned to tell Callie to follow her when she noted the two men standing with her friend.

“Callie?” Jen immediately recognized them as the two men they had seen earlier in the day.

The smaller one with the dangerous eyes was standing far too close to Callie. The big, gorgeous one was walking her way.

“Miss Waters?” His deep voice rumbled out.

“Yes,” she said because she had a terrible feeling that the smaller man wasn’t helping Callie balance on the snow. She caught the glint of metal at Callie’s waist and the way her face tightened. “Let my friend go.”

“I can’t to be doing that.” There was an almost sympathetic look in his eyes, but it didn’t move Jen because the bastard still had a gun in his hand. “You have something that belong to my employer.” Jen took a deep breath. Trouble, it seemed, just kept finding her.

Chapter Thirteen

Alexei stepped close to the brunette, who now resembled a frightened deer in the presence of a tiger. The fact that he was the predator was not lost on him. The gun in his hand felt pounds heavier than he knew it to be.

“Don’t scream.” Ivan’s voice was low, but there was no way anyone could mistake the steely threat in it.

Alexei wound his hand around the artist’s elbow and looked back at what was happening behind him. Ivan had the woman with glasses in a dangerous hold. His arm was securely wrapped around her waist, the bulky coats hiding the gun Ivan had shoved into the woman’s side.

“You scream and I have no reason not to shoot you. Understand?” The woman bit her lip as though forcing herself to comply when all she wanted to do was yell. Slowly, she nodded her head. She took a deep breath, and though Alexei could still see the fear in her eyes, a stubborn will took over. She would fight. That small woman, with her sweet face and round glasses, would not go down easily.

“It’s going to be all right, Callie.” The woman he held kept her voice steady. Her jaw firmed as she stared at her friend. “I’ll get us out of this.”

Alexei hated the way his stomach churned, acid rising to his throat. He’d been worried about tears and pleading, but this suddenly seemed worse. These women were calm though afraid, their solidarity obvious in the way they encouraged each other. It was completely different from the others he’d dealt with. He and Ivan had specialized in dealing with other criminals. They had often worked over

“partners” in an attempt to get information or simply to send a message. The people Alexei had interrogated always gave up the other man. They begged and pleaded and lied about their partners in an attempt to throw the violence on someone else.

These women loved each other. These women, he had no doubt, would sacrifice for each other.

There were tears in the artist’s eyes as she looked up at him. “I know what you want.”

He had to force the words to come out harshly. “The painting. My employer pay for painting. He is not a man to cheat.”

“Well, he didn’t pay me. Did he pay you, Callie?” The woman named Callie shook her head. “Nope. I haven’t had a single check come in for a stolen painting.” Jennifer nodded his way. “See, big guy, there’s no reason to go all Godfather on us—or whatever the Russian equivalent is. I can get you your painting, and you can go on your happy way.” But it wouldn’t be like that, and Alexei knew it. They couldn’t afford to leave these women alive. They would need to kill them, stash the bodies, and get out. There was far too much at stake, and this wasn’t some piss-poor, mob-run rural town in Russia where they could bribe their way out of anything. Pushkin’s name didn’t mean anything here.

An image of his brother flashed across his brain. Mikhail had been a handsome, smiling young man who had never been impatient with his brother. He’d taught Alexei with a gentle smile. What would his brother think about him killing this woman?

“Move.” Ivan walked behind them, his gruffness letting Alexei know he was growing tired of waiting. “If either one of you makes a wrong move, we will kill you both and then start on the crowd. If you care at all about the people around you, you will behave.” Jennifer slid her arm around his waist. She smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Pretend you’re crazy about me. Otherwise, people might wonder why we’re walking so close. We have to get to town hall, you see. We can go in from behind, but there’s a good hundred yards before we can move to the alley.” Alexei saw what she meant. There were people milling around all over the place up ahead of them. He saw the place where she pointed, a small road that led to the back of the buildings on their left. “All right. We’re just two couples enjoying the day. You can handle that, can’t you, Ivan?”

“I think so.” Ivan switched to Russian. “Perhaps we can enjoy much of the day. I like this one. I think she’s got nice breasts under all the clothes she’s wearing. Let’s get the painting and then go back to the motel. We can enjoy their bodies before we kill them, my friend.” He could taste the bile in his throat, but forced himself to laugh and agree with the man he hated. How much? How much of his own soul was he willing to give up? Panic threatened as he started to walk Jennifer toward the opposite side of the road. It was all happening so fast. His life seemed to be coming to a point. His revenge seemed further away than ever before, and yet so tantalizingly close. All he had to do was get the painting and take it to Pushkin.

His feet moved along the ground, the thud in time to his beating heart. All he had to do to avenge his gentle brother’s life was kill two women after watching Ivan brutally rape them. All he had to do was go against everything his brother ever taught him. All he had to do was give up his soul.

“Hey, Jen! I’ve been looking for you. Did you hear what’s going on around here?”

A man in a cowboy hat strode confidently down the sidewalk.

“Be very careful,” Alexei whispered. “He really will kill your friend.”

“And you won’t?” Her words were returned quietly.

That was the question that ran through his head. Could he pull the trigger and end an innocent life?

Jennifer turned on a bright, charming smile. “Hey, James! How are you doing today?” She winked at the cowboy who stopped and stared at the four of them. “Callie and I are having fun, if you know what I mean.”

The cowboy’s mouth came open and then closed. Alexei felt a thrill of terror that the man would call them out.

“I thought you were with Stef.” The cowboy’s eyes narrowed in obvious anger.

“I’m with a lot of guys, James. You know that.” He shook his head. “Yeah, I heard that, too. And Callie. Biggest slut in the county. I thought I was different. I thought I meant something to you. I was willing to wait for you to wake up to what a creep Stef is, but I won’t watch you go through tourists, too.”

“You’re an asshole, James,” Callie spat out. “And Jen was right not to sleep with you. I was bored when I slept with you.”

“Bitch.” The cowboy named James stalked off without a backward glance.

Ivan laughed. “Dumb bitches,” he said in Russian. “American women are all sluts. Perhaps they will like what we do to them, eh?” But Alexei didn’t think so. Alexei got the distinct feeling that something was wrong. He moved along anyway, his mind whirling, seeking a way out until he knew there wasn’t one.

You’re the best thing I ever did, Alexei. That was what his brother had said when Alexei had asked if he minded giving up his chance to go to university. Mikhail had a promising future in the sciences before their parents had died.

He moved like an automaton toward the building Jennifer had told them would get them safely to the town hall.

A picture of his parents was in his wallet. It was hard to remember them sometimes, but they were smiling in the only picture that was left of the man and woman who had given him life. It wasn’t the only thing. He was left.

His parents had been gentle people.

His brother had been the finest man he had ever known.

Who the hell was he?

“You’re crying.” Jennifer spoke very softly as they walked.

He felt the tears slide down his cheeks. Fuck. How was he going to explain that to Ivan?

“Please.” The word was a little puff out of her mouth, meant for his ears, his soul.

Please. Had Mikhail pleaded? Perhaps. He had a brother to raise.

Mikhail would not have allowed pride to stop him. If he’d thought begging might help, he would have begged. The man who killed his brother had not listened.

Alexei turned the corner.

Who was he? A man like the one who took his brother’s life? For fifteen years, all he had thought about was revenge. For fifteen years, he’d told himself that he owed his brother this violence. What a fool he’d been. He owed his brother, his precious brother, a good, well-lived life. He owed his brother his honor. Unfortunately, he also owed the woman in his arms something. One last act of violence.

Alexei turned, quick as a cat. The gun was up, and before Ivan could wipe the lecherous grin off his face, there was a loud report and a neat hole appeared in his head. The man he’d worked with for years fell backward and hit the ground, his blood blooming across the stark white of the snow beneath their feet.

Callie shot toward Jennifer. The women huddled together, each seeming to protect the other.

“He would have killed you.” Alexei lowered the gun. He could feel his face flushing.

“Thank you.” Jennifer’s arms were tight around her friend. “You should run. Our men will be here soon.” He was done with that.

Three men burst into the alley, two with guns drawn at the ready.

He recognized one of the men as Jamie, the cowboy the women had reviled. He felt himself smile a bit. Clever girls.

“You drop that gun or I’ll take your head off. Please give me a reason to take your head off.” The man in the lead seemed perfectly ready to do that.

“I got them here as fast as I could,” James said, looking at the women. His face was stark, and he was obviously out of breath.

Alexei wondered if the man had started running the minute he was out of sight. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t carrying at the time. Walking away was one of the hardest things I ever did.”

“You did the right thing, James.” The head law official frowned at Alexei. “I’m serious. I really want to shoot you. One of those women you were about to kill is my wife. Only the fact she’s watching me right now keeps me from blowing your ass away.”

“Please to not blows on my ass.” Alexei dropped his gun and held up his hands. “I wish to become defective.” He could not go back to Russia. It suddenly struck him that he had something to bargain with. He had detailed workings of the Russian mob. He could tie Pushkin to American mobsters, even a few politicians.

Alexei sank to his knees in the snow as the men walked toward him. Two in uniforms, shiny gold stars hanging on their shirts, were in front. They hadn’t bothered with coats.

“Nathan, that was rude,” Callie said, indignation dripping.

Alexei waited patiently as the married couple worked out their obvious disagreements concerning the treatment of prisoners. The husband frowned at the wife. “Logan, pick up that gun,” the tall man with cold eyes said in a quiet, professional voice. His revolver was leveled straight at Alexei’s head.

“Yes, Sheriff.” The gangly, younger man first kicked the gun away, and when it was safe to do so, he reached down and picked it up, securing it.

“This one’s dead, Nate.” The one the women had called Jamie, or James, stared down at Ivan’s body.

“You all right, baby?”

It was the first emotion Alexei had heard in the sheriff’s voice.

His eyes didn’t leave his prey, but there was the slightest softening of that hard-as-nails tone.

“I’m okay, Nate. Jen’s okay, too, thanks to him.” The sheriff’s lips turned down. “I’ll wait to thank him. Logan, cuff him. We’ll get him back to the station and figure out just what the hell is going on around here.”

Jennifer stepped forward. “You can’t arrest him, Nate. He saved us.”

“It’s fine,” Alexei said quickly. “I will go with them. I will answer all questions. I would like to become a defective person. I have much helpful information.”

“What the fuck is going on?”

A man with dark hair stepped into the alley. It only took a moment for Alexei to realize this was Jennifer’s man. He could be in more trouble.

“Stef, everything is fine.” Jennifer tried to step forward.

“You stay right there, Jennifer.” The sheriff shouted the order.

Jennifer and Callie stepped back at his tone.

Alexei allowed Logan to pull his hands down, and he felt the cold metal snap around his wrists. He was in custody, his plans blown, his future in severe peril, but he hadn’t felt so light in years.

Alexei turned to the two women he’d blown his revenge to save.

He shook his head at the thought. In saving them, he’d finally saved himself.

“Thank you,” he said as the sheriff took his arm and began to lead him away.

* * *

“I could make him defective really fucking fast,” Stef said, looking at the Russian through the bars of his cell. The urge to make the asshole really fucking defective was riding him. His heart had been racing from the moment he’d realized Nate had left the building.

Rachel had been the one to tell him what was going on. He’d been caught up in his discussion with the doctor. He’d never been as afraid as he’d been when he heard that shot go off. He was going to start carrying a rifle with him wherever he went so he would always be prepared.

Hope, a sweet-looking, dark-haired woman, looked at Stef, her eyes going wide.

“Sorry,” Stef said. Hope came from a really religious family.

Though she was only twenty-five, she somehow seemed younger than her years.

She smiled shyly. “It’s okay. I’m getting used to it. The sheriff curses all the time.”

Nate looked up from his paperwork. “I certainly do not curse all the time. And I don’t think that’s what he meant, Stef. I think he’s under the false impression that the US is still on the lookout for defectors. Laura was right. Smart woman. She caught the other guy’s tattoos when he came into the Stop’n’ Shop. It’s apparently code for these guys or something. I don’t know. I dealt with South Americans and homegrown assholes. The European mobster might be too much for my poor, backwoods sheriff brain.” Nate was far too calm. It was making Stef crazy.

Of course, Jennifer standing there and talking to the same man who had kidnapped her and worked for the man who planned to kill anyone in his way made him even crazier.

Stef had to turn away. He stared out the window where the snow was falling in thick waves, blanketing everything in a fine powder.

At least it was over. He forced himself to sit down.

“Look, I’ve already put in a call to the feds. They can’t get here until tomorrow night because of the snowstorm headed our way. If he is who he says he is, he could be important,” Nate said all too sensibly.

Stef couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “He’s a man who almost got your wife killed.”

After giving her brief statement, Zane had collected Callie and insisted she go home to rest. Nate had held her for a long time before allowing Zane to scoop her up and take her home. Stef hadn’t even had a chance to hug Jennifer. She’d been a little bee, buzzing around everywhere. She’d sat with Logan while he took her statement. She’d held Callie’s hand while she’d given hers. Now, she sat talking to the same fucking mobster who had gotten her into the situation in the first place. She’d briefly smiled at Stef and told him she was okay before rushing off to find someone else to comfort or thank.

“Callie is going to be fine. She’s strong. So is Jennifer. You’re the one I’m worried about. I thought you would be relieved this was over.”

“Is it? We don’t have the painting in hand, yet.” Nate’s eyes rolled. “Well, it couldn’t possibly be as easy as walking in and getting it. I blame Rachel. Apparently she preferred the blue painting. Nell said Holly sold the green painting, but she wasn’t sure who had bought it. Holly told her she was thrilled because it brought in enough money that it didn’t make sense to put it in the auction. Someone paid five hundred for the damn thing.” Stef winced. He didn’t agree with Jennifer’s insistence on giving away her work. It was worth much more than five hundred. “And Holly doesn’t remember who gave her five hundred dollars?”

“Holly left to pick up her kid. He’s coming into town. She wanted to get him before his dad changed his mind. You know how she is about that kid.”

Holly would drop everything for her teenage son. From what Stef understood, her ex-husband kept them apart as much as he could.

“Did someone check the receipts?”

Nate stared at him as though he’d grown a second head.

“Right.” Like anyone in Bliss was terribly concerned about receipts.

“Nell gave me the book. Whoever bought it paid cash and can’t write to save his or her life. I tried to make out the signature, but I apparently don’t read that language. Don’t worry about it, Stef. I’ll put out the word. We’ll find it.”

Nate sounded certain, but Stef wouldn’t be satisfied until that painting was out of their hair.

And then it would be over, and he would have to deal with the fact that he was going to lose her. Stef nodded to Nate and forced himself to sit down in one of the chairs in the waiting area.

Though he’d been the one to set in motion the plan that would separate them, Stef didn’t like to think about how fast it was all happening. He’d thought he had a bit of time with her. The wheels of the court system tended to grind slowly. He was certain he could get the charges against her dropped, but it would take time.

If what the Russian said was true, Finn Taylor could get the charges against her dropped by tomorrow morning.

“I did what you asked of me, Stefan. Are you sure about this?” His father sank down into the chair beside his. He watched as Jennifer laughed at something the criminal who had nearly killed her said.

“You seem very taken with her. I might not understand your relationship with her, but I can see plainly you care for her.” Stef felt like he always felt around his father, slightly restless. It was as though the minute he occupied the same space as the man, Stef’s skin became too tight. He shifted in his chair, wishing he could avoid all of this, but he needed his father’s help on several fronts.

They had talked about his plans early this morning before Stef had left. His father, apparently, worked fast. “I love her, Dad. I want what’s best for her.”

Just saying the words made him wish he could take them back, but he’d been compelled to spit them out. No one understood. Everyone thought he was being an ass when all he wanted was to do right by her. It was all he ever wanted.

“If you love her, why are you trying to send her away? I made the calls you asked me to. They’ll take her mid-semester. They’re counting her work with Renard as life experience. But, I don’t think she wants to go to Paris.”

Stef turned, and Jennifer was passing the man named Alexei Markov a glass of water. Every artist wanted to study at the Sorbonne.

Jennifer couldn’t be any different. She would be surrounded by art and culture, and he would see that she lived in style. She could study and live a bit, and then if she decided to come back to him, he could believe her.

Why couldn’t anyone see that he was sacrificing his happiness for her?

“She’ll love it once she gets there,” Stef insisted.

His father’s eyes tightened in suspicion. “Are you planning on drugging her, son? Because I think that’s what it’s going to take to get her on a plane to Europe.”

She would go. He would see to it. She would certainly see reason.

She couldn’t grow as an artist here. She couldn’t see the world.

His father leaned forward. The lines on his familiar face creased further as he frowned seriously. “Stefan, this is one of the reasons I came back. I want to talk to you about so many things, but this one in particular. You can’t keep blaming yourself for what happened between me and your mother.”

Stef shook his head. “What are you talking about? I don’t blame myself.”

Sebastian snorted lightly. “Fine, then I would like very much for you to stop blaming me.”

“This is not the place to have this conversation.” Stef kept his voice low. The last thing he needed was more gossip.

His father didn’t seem to have a problem with it. “Well, you don’t seem to think there is a place for this conversation, so I’ve decided to have it out here.”

“Fine. I don’t blame myself, and I don’t blame you. I lay the blame squarely on the shoulders of my mother. She’s the one who decided to leave us in order to pursue a career in acting. She’s the one who walked out.”

“She was very young. I knew that when I married her.”

“Then why did you?”

“I was in love with her. I married your mother when she was twenty-four years old. Back then, that wasn’t really so young. I was older, of course, but I knew I wanted her the minute I saw her.” Stef felt his whole soul drag. He knew that story. He’d wanted Jennifer. He’d known that first morning she’d walked into Stella’s looking for him that she was special. He’d been fighting the feeling ever since.

His father had a wistful smile on his face. “I judged a beauty pageant. She won.”

It should have been a clue. Sebastian Talbot had made a mistake that Stef didn’t intend to make. He’d seen trouble coming and walked headlong into it. “Did she talk about her dreams for the future then?”

“Oh, no,” Sebastian replied with a shake of his head. “She was very set on getting married and having a family. Your mother was a lovely, funny, bright woman, but she was always very mercurial. She changed her mind all the time. She was like a butterfly flitting around.

I should have known, but I was young, too. I thought I could make her happy, and then you came along. I was sure she would settle in.” It was hard to remember his mother. When he saw her in his head, it was always in still form, as though he was looking at a photograph.

She was beautiful and distant, always distant. She’d been that way even with his father.

“She needed more than marriage and a family could give her,” Stef said. “I think it’s like that for very talented women. They need room to grow. Tell me something, Dad, do you think it would have been different if you had met her at a different time? Say, when she was older?”

His father laughed, the sound amusing but with a sharp edge. “As your mother has gone through three husbands since me, I doubt it, son.”

Stef turned to his father, utterly startled at the announcement.

He’d known that she hadn’t had the career she’d planned. He’d googled her in the past, but he’d imagined her as happy and working.

“Three husbands?”

His father held his hand up, indicating the number four. “Don’t forget me. I was the first. Her current victim is a very nice retired lawyer.”

Stef felt the foundation of his world shift a bit. “How would you know? Are you telling me you kept tabs on her?”

“Not exactly. She contacted me a while back. I think it was right after she tried to get in touch with you and you rebuffed her.” Stef felt his face harden. He hadn’t rebuffed the woman. He hadn’t done anything at all. He’d simply not responded. He’d thought she’d taken the hint.

His father’s hand came out to pat his shoulder like he had when Stef had been a child. “You’re her only child, Stefan. She realized she wasn’t maternal, so she was careful. But as you get older, you feel the need to reach out, to make things right. She backed off because she didn’t want to hurt you more than she had. I had lunch with her, and we’ve become quite good friends. Stefan, I wish you would talk to her, but I understand it’s hard for you.” A nasty little suspicion seized Stef’s gut. “Did she know you were sick?”

His father’s face flushed. “Yes.”

“But you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you.” He shook his head. “I was afraid, Stefan. I was afraid it wouldn’t worry you at all. I was afraid it wouldn’t mean anything to you. It’s recently come to my attention that I’ve been a coward most of my life. I should have called you, but I didn’t. Getting on that plane was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, son.”

“Why?”

“Because I had to face the worst mistake I ever made.” Now Stef was the one flushing. Well, he’d always known that was true.

His father reached for him. “You’re not understanding me. It wasn’t a mistake to marry your mother or to have you. My mistake was in leaving you behind. Stefan, I should never have allowed us to be separated.”

“I didn’t want to leave. I needed this place. I was happy here, so you don’t have to feel guilty.” He couldn’t imagine what his life would have been like if he’d been forced to move to Dallas. He glanced at Nate, who was talking to his deputy, his eyes never straying far from the man in the cell. Nate had grown up in that world.

Nate had taken years to accept who he was. He’d tried to fit into society’s version of normal. He’d almost lost Callie in the process.

No, he wasn’t angry with his father for letting him stay in Bliss.

He was angry with his father because he hadn’t stayed with him.

The revelation hit him straight in the gut.

He was angry, brutally angry, with his father. All the years of telling himself that he’d built his own family and didn’t need anything from the man had been lies. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his pieced-together family. He did. But he’d needed his dad. He’d needed to know that someone with his blood wanted him for something besides convenient proof that he could procreate.

Stef looked down, and his hands were shaking.

“Son, I deserve everything you’re thinking right now, but I’m asking you to hear me out.”

Stef stood abruptly. The room seemed to be closing in on him. His father scrambled to get up as well, but Stef moved across the room from him. He couldn’t do this right now. He had too much going through his brain. Everything his father had said reinforced his belief that he was doing the right thing for Jennifer, but the fact that she would soon be gone made him sick. He hadn’t had enough time with her, and he couldn’t allow himself any more. If he did, he’d take over her life. He’d mold her into something she wasn’t.

“Stef?”

A soft hand on his arm brought him back to the real world.

Jennifer looked up at him, her eyes soft and filled with concern. When he focused on her, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him as though she could read his need to be close to her. Without hesitation, he took the comfort she offered, reveling in the way she felt in his arms.

“I’d like to go home, love.”

He felt her head nod as she squeezed him close.

“You keep an eye on her, Stef,” Nate said, standing up and walking across the room. His hand came out.

Stef adjusted Jennifer so she was firmly at his side as he shook Nate’s hand. “I will.”

He slid his hand into hers and led her out.

If he was going to lose her soon, he didn’t want to waste a moment on anything as insignificant as the man who had left him behind.

“Stefan.” His father’s voice called out.

Stef walked out the door.

Chapter Fourteen

Jen wasn’t sure what had happened with Stef and his dad, but she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was her job to calm him down. If she allowed him to, he would withdraw, pretending that there was absolutely nothing wrong. He would more than likely tell her that he wanted to work or some such nonsense and leave her alone for the rest of the evening.

That was not going to happen.

Stef pulled his Land Rover into the long drive that led to his house just as the sun was going down. He’d said very little since he’d asked Max to give his father a ride back when he was ready. Other than that, he’d concentrated on the road. His hands had been perfectly steady on the wheel, but she couldn’t forget the moment when she’d seen them shake. Stef out of control made her heart hurt. It was the one thing she knew he couldn’t handle.

She knew exactly how to give control back to him.

He put the SUV in park and shut off the engine. Jen got out before he could say a word. Though she was right in front of the door that led into the house, she walked around the vehicle. She wasn’t going into the house.

“Jennifer?”

She turned slightly and stared at the deliciously masculine sight he made. He was lit from behind by the setting sun. He looked every inch the rough-and-tumble cowboy in Levi’s, boots, and a somewhat-battered Stetson. He looked far from the immaculate man he often presented himself as. She realized looking at him, heart racing at how beautiful he was, that she loved all of Stef. She loved the wickedly decadent artist and the doggedly loyal small-town boy. She adored the perverted Dom. He was all of those things, and she wouldn’t have him any other way.

“I love you, Stef.”

His boots suddenly became very intriguing, it seemed. He stared down at them for a moment.

Though her heart clenched at his silence, she realized something else. In the end, she couldn’t control whether or not he loved her. She couldn’t force him to see how good they could be together if he didn’t want to. She could bluster and batter him with attention-seeking behavior, but in the end, he would decide whether or not he was brave enough to take the chance. All she had control over was how much she loved him. It wasn’t such a selfish thing. Her love suddenly seemed vast and warm and giving.

“Don’t cry.”

She hadn’t been aware she was, but she felt it now. It wasn’t sad.

It was simply the acknowledgement of overwhelming emotion. She loved, and suddenly she was a better person for it. She was larger than she’d been just moments before.

“I love you.” There was no hesitation in the words. They were strong and proud. Her love was worth something. He might deny it, but she wouldn’t.

“I…that means a lot to me.” His words were oddly faltering, as though foreign to his tongue.

She wouldn’t push him, but she could help him. “Then come to the guesthouse with me. I want to play, Stef.” His eyes flared. “You want to play? Jennifer, I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I’m not exactly calm and in control.”

“But you will be.” She turned and started to walk toward the guesthouse. This was how he could get his control back. This was the gift she could give him.

He caught up to her in an instant. “You’re topping from the bottom.”

The outrage in the accusation made her smile. “Isn’t that what every smart sub does?”

He frowned before a laugh huffed from his chest. “You’re going to kill me, Jennifer.”

He leaned over and gently pushed his shoulder into her midsection, picking her up in a fireman’s hold.

“Hey!” The world went topsy-turvy, and then she felt a sharp slap to her ass.

“Hush, sub. You want to play? I want to play, too. But we’re at least going to pretend I have some control. When we go into that guesthouse, you treat it like a dungeon. I’m the Master. You’re the pretty slave who’ll do anything to please me.” And that was different how? She didn’t argue with him, though.

She was already getting hot at the thought of playing with Master Stefan. “Yes, Stef.”

“What will please me, slave?”

She loved the way his voice went deep and rich, like dark chocolate. “My submission.”

“No clothes are allowed in my dungeon.” He set her on her feet and pulled out the key. He quickly opened the door and allowed her to enter. Jen felt her shoes sink into the thick carpet. The door closed behind her, and when she turned, Stef was staring at her, his face as hard as granite.

“I’m waiting, Jennifer.”

She certainly didn’t feel the cold now. She shrugged out of her coat and handed it to him to hang. With deliberate movements, she took off her clothes. Where the afternoon had been a flurry of passion, this was measured, and a level of anticipation permeated the room.

She felt almost drugged by it. She slid her hands under the waistband of her jeans and pushed them down her legs.

“Poor darling,” Stef said with silky sympathy. “You had to wear your plug all day. Is my slave’s ass sore?”

“I can handle it, Stefan.” She smiled at him in genuine pleasure.

There wasn’t a hint of his earlier worry and panic. He was utterly and completely focused on her now. He was in control.

“Turn around and lean over the couch. It’s time to take it out. I have more interesting things to shove up your ass than a piece of plastic.”

His cock was making his jeans bulge. While she’d been undressing, he’d done the same. He was down to his jeans, his perfectly cut chest making her mouth water. She wondered what he looked like in his leathers. More than likely, a lot like he did now. He was an intimidating, lean presence. Jen took a deep breath to calm her racing heart and walked to the couch with what she hoped passed for grace. She placed her hands on the arm and leaned over, presenting her ass to her Master.

“Nicely done, love,” Stef purred.

Jen shivered just a bit as his hands traced her back.

“You’ve studied up. I can see that. I wonder how much you’re prepared for. I wonder how much you can take.”

“I can take just about anything except the part where you get me riled up and walk away.”

He chuckled. “Yes, I can see where that would be difficult for you. How about I promise you that I won’t ever leave you unsatisfied? But your satisfaction, when we’re playing, comes at my discretion. If I choose to torture my slave for hours on end, that is my decision.”

“I don’t know how much I like the sound of that, Stef.” He smacked her ass, causing every nerve in her rectum to come alive with a jittery pleasure. “Yes or no? We can go back to the house and have very nice, vanilla sex. I’m all right with that, love. I really am. We can have vanilla sex and go to sleep wrapped in each other’s arms. Or I can tie you up, spank your sweet ass, and torture you with vibrators and other nasty toys. I can lick every inch of your body. I can devour your pussy while I shove my finger up your anus. And I can fuck that ass, love. I’m going to ream it until you don’t remember a time I wasn’t balls-deep inside you. Really, it’s your choice.” He punctuated his speech by running his tongue down her spine to the place he’d promised to fuck. It was delicious and dark and dirty, and Jen felt her pussy clench in response.

“Oh, Stef, I want to play.” Her hands tightened on the couch because if she didn’t hold on, she would fall. He was turning her into a quivering mass of desire. “Please play with me.” She felt him get to his knees behind her. He playfully nipped at her butt cheeks. “I’ll play, love. Have I mentioned how pretty your asshole is?”

She laughed a little. It wasn’t a compliment she heard often, but Stef said it like he was talking about her hair or telling her how nice she looked in a new blouse. He left absolutely no room for shame.

“Thank you.”

“I like to look at it.” He pulled her cheeks apart.

“You’re not painting my asshole, Stef.” She had her limits.

“I don’t see why not. I wouldn’t sell it, of course. But it is a work of art. I could do a whole series of paintings featuring your pink parts.

I love your anus and your pussy.” His hand slid up to where she was already wet and wanting. “I definitely love your clit. I like to rub it and suck on it until it pokes out of its little hood and begs for my attention.”

Jen gasped. Her clit was probably doing that right this second because he was rubbing her in the sweetest way. He pressed on her clit and lessened the pressure, running a circle around the nub before pressing again. It lit a fire that spread from the apex of her thighs, crawling along her skin.

He pulled his hand away.

“Hey, I was enjoying that.”

“And I’ll enjoy this, brat.” He pressed her down, forcing her midsection over the arm of the sofa. His hand slapped at her ass in ten quick, harsh licks, each one a shocking heat on her flesh. “Don’t talk to me that way when we’re playing.”

“Yes, Stefan.” She bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out, but even as she did he was smoothing his hand across her skin, the pain morphing into pleasure.

He slid his hand between her cheeks and pulled on the plug. It slid from her anus, leaving her strangely empty. He almost immediately pressed a finger in.

“Tight. You’re still going to be tight, love, but you can take me.” He groaned as he pressed deep, rotating his finger. He moved in between her legs, taking up all the space. “No one’s had your ass, have they?”

“No, Stefan.” She never even dreamed she’d want anyone to take her there, but she couldn’t imagine not sharing the intimacy with Stef.

He’d invaded every inch of her soul. She wanted him to have all of her body, too.

“Excellent.” He pulled his finger out and backed away. “Go into the bedroom, love. I’ll be along in a moment. There are some toys I need.”

He steadied her when she got back on her feet. Every nerve and pore in her body seemed open and aware of his presence. His lips curled in a decadent grin as he looked down at her.

“Toys? Dare I ask?” She probably didn’t want to know. He was a veritable pervertopedia when it came to toys. He knew how to use them all to great advantage.

“No office supplies this time, love. We’re in my dungeon. I have every luxury imaginable.” He suddenly frowned. “Unless my father threw it out.”

She stifled a laugh. “I doubt it.” She went on her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’ll be waiting.” On wobbly feet, she made her way to the bedroom. Callie had pointed it out when she’d given her a secret tour of the guesthouse.

She’d gone into salacious detail of what went on, though at the time she hadn’t played here herself. Jen had the feeling Nate and Zane had probably fixed that situation. She knew that Max and Rye had an open invitation. She entered the bedroom and wondered if there was a sign-up sheet. It might be awkward if the room was already occupied.

Then she wasn’t thinking about awkwardness. Her heart raced as she looked at the newest addition to the dungeon. Stef had installed a floor-to-ceiling mirror. She stared for a moment at the reflection of herself. She was naked, but she almost didn’t recognize the woman there. She looked tousled and soft. She’d always thought of herself as gangly and too thin. She didn’t have Callie’s curves or Rachel’s petite grace, but there was an innate sexiness to the woman in the mirror that couldn’t be denied.

“Yes, love, you’re beautiful.”

Stef stood in the doorway behind her, his dark hair ruffled. He leaned on the frame and caught her gaze in the mirror.

“I never thought of myself as beautiful. I certainly never thought of myself as sexy.” She doubted she would without him. Stef brought out a version of herself she really liked. When Stef looked at her like he was looking now, she felt powerful and sexy even as she submitted to him.

“I can’t think of you as anything less.” He tossed several items onto the bed and took a place behind her, cupping her shoulders.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about painting you, your graceful arms and long limbs.” He let his hands move lower to cup the breasts that had always seemed too small to her, but felt like the perfect size when his hands were on them. “Your sweet breasts.

You’re my ideal model. I couldn’t find a woman I want more than you.”

She let her head lean back against his chest, enjoying the picture they made. When she looked into that mirror at the couple cuddling together, it was hard to believe they ever fought at all. They looked right together, as though two pieces that had been separated had finally found their way back together.

“Kiss me, love.”

She tilted her head up and reveled in his kiss.

* * *

Stef pressed his lips to Jennifer’s mouth and felt himself sigh. All of the previous tension of the day melted away as he let his body mold to hers. This was what he’d needed since that moment when he realized how close he’d come to losing her.

He’d walked into the room to find her staring at herself in the mirror as though seeing herself for the very first time. He wanted her to see herself as he did—a true, amazing work of art. She was gorgeous from the top of her silky, sable hair to her dainty toes. She would probably be shocked to discover he was fascinated with her toes. She painted them pinks and purples, and one day last summer, a bright, shocking orange. He loved summer because she would glide around town in sandals, her toenails a patch of art in his day.

He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips. She always tasted sweet to him. He sometimes thought he could run his tongue over her skin a thousand times a day and never get sick of the taste.

How was he going to let her go?

A breathy little cry slipped from her mouth as he moved from her lips to her neck. He let his eyes drift up so he could watch them in the mirror. She was femininity and grace to his masculine aggression.

That little mewling cry went straight to his cock. Every muscle in his body seemed hard and ready to pounce, but his cock was past rigid.

His cock was a throbbing, insistent rock.

He nuzzled her neck. His fingers found her rigid nipples. He pinched at them, remembering how well she’d taken his spontaneously made clamps. He had better ones now. Unwilling to wait any longer, he moved back. “Get on your knees on the bed, love.

Face the mirror. I want you to watch everything I do to you.”

She shivered a bit, but Stef didn’t think it was from the cold. He could see her pussy, and it was getting creamy and soft. She was so responsive, like an instrument only he was meant to play. She climbed on the bed and turned so she could see herself in the mirror. Stef reached out to the nightstand table and grabbed the first of the toys he’d brought for her, a set of lovely clover clamps. Silver and ornate, they were held together by a chain that would dangle between her breasts.

“No more paper clips?” She anticipated his next command. She pushed her shoulders back, thrusting her breasts out. The pink and brown nipple pointed directly at him.

He quickly clamped the precious nubs, adjusting the tension to ensure maximum stimulation without cutting off her circulation. He would really prefer piercings. If she belonged to him, he would try to convince her to pierce her nipples. He’d play with the rings constantly, twisting them and sucking on them. He would attach pretty chains between the two and tug on them to stimulate her.

“It’s pretty, Stef.” She smiled at him like he’d given her a diamond necklace rather than clamping her breasts for his pleasure.

“You’re prettier, love.” She was gorgeous, and it went past her lovely face and sexy body. She was beautiful down to her soul. She was kind and loving. She put others first. It was up to him to make sure she got her dreams. Even if it meant letting her go.

But not yet. He could keep her for a while. He felt a stubborn resolve rise. What if he taught her? He’d never taken on an art student before, but he’d never met one with as much potential as his Jennifer.

Surely he had something to teach her. His work went for hundreds of thousands of dollars. He’d been reviewed as an artist to collect and was doggedly pursued by gallery owners. He could teach her. For as long as he taught her, he could enjoy her. He could hold her close and pretend she really belonged to him.

He traced the line of her torso down to her wet and ready pussy.

He found the jewel of her clit and rubbed gently.

Her eyes closed, and her body bowed back slightly, opening her to his touch.

“Come for me. I want to watch your face as you come.” She murmured her assent as her breath caught.

Without letting up on the pressure he was exerting on her clit, he grabbed the vibrator he’d brought for her. He replaced his finger with the rabbit, pressing the outside to her clitoris.

Jennifer’s eyes flew open as he flicked the vibe on.

“Oh.” A delicious moan came out of her mouth.

“Keep those eyes open.”

She opened her eyes. They were large and verdant green. She could never lie to him because everything about her was right there in her eyes. Now he could see her desire in those eyes. Her bow of a mouth came open as he rubbed the vibrator over and over her clit. Her hips pumped forward, pressing against the sensation.

Stef looked down at her pussy. It was swollen and pink like a flower just on the edge of bloom. He hadn’t needed to use the lubricant he’d brought. By the time he’d clamped her nipples, she was soaked with her own sweet cream. He notched up the vibrator, the sound buzzing against her skin.

Her eyes flared. Her skin flushed a gorgeous pink. Her breath was ragged as she moved toward orgasm.

“Stefan. Oh, Stef.”

His name sounded like a breathy prayer. Her hands came up. She held on to his shoulders to balance herself as she cried out. Everything about her was so beautiful in that instant that Stef knew it would never be the same again. He would never want another woman. He might be able to view them as lovely on an aesthetic level, but she was everything to him.

Her body shook in little quivering waves. It made the chain between her clamps shiver. Stef tossed the vibe away and pulled her close. His hands tightened on the soft flesh of her ass. She didn’t hesitate, merely wrapped her arms around his neck and gave herself to him. Her mouth opened on his, and he took advantage. He plunged his tongue into her silky heat. He kissed her over and over as though he could memorize her taste. He loved the feel of her clamps teasing his chest.

He could have kissed her forever, but his cock was insistently pulsing, demanding attention. He forced himself away from her and climbed off the bed. He ripped at the fly of his jeans and had the offending garment off his body in a heartbeat. His cock bounced free.

“Hands and knees, love,” he commanded as he grabbed the tube of lubricant. Jennifer hadn’t needed it to take the vibrator, but her lovely asshole didn’t have her pussy’s cream. Stef felt his whole body tingle at the thought of finally shoving his dick up her ass, forcing her to take him in a place she’d never had a man before.

He was shocked to find his hands were shaking slightly as he got onto the bed behind her. She was beautiful, the perfect picture of submission. Her golden brown hair hanging down, she stared forward, looking at the mirror. He wondered if she saw what he saw. He saw his perfect mate, waiting for him.

Heart pounding, Stef couldn’t wait a moment longer. He slicked up his dick, fisting himself in quick passes before moving on to the more interesting part of the preparation. He parted her cheeks and dripped the lube in between them.

“It’s cold.”

“Sorry, love.” He’d warmed it, but then he’d spent a good deal of time getting her off. She was a dangerous distraction. “I’ll warm you up in a minute.”

Stef pressed a well-lubed finger into her anus. She groaned. The rosette of her asshole clenched around his finger.

“Relax. Don’t try to keep me out. I won’t let that happen.” He pushed a second finger in. She groaned as he stretched her. The deep sound made Stef groan a little, too. “This is mine. Say it.”

“It’s yours, Stef.”

“Your body is mine.” The possessive words rolled off his tongue.

They felt right, just like she felt right. She was his, every inch of her.

“Your mouth, your breasts, your pussy, they’re all mine. What else is mine?”

“Everything, Stef.” She didn’t hesitate. Her green eyes were clear as she looked at him in the mirror. The chain dangled under her breasts. “I am yours.”

He lined his cock up to her asshole. “You’re mine.” He pressed in, every inch an outrageous pleasure. She was tight around his cock, fighting to keep him out, but he gently pushed forward. He would win this little war. He would have her because she belonged to him. She would surrender everything to him. He gripped her hips and drove in with ruthless precision.

“Oh, Stef, oh. It burns. You’re so much bigger than the plug.” In the mirror, her face was tight with obvious discomfort. He smoothed his hands over her back. “Poor baby. Is my nasty cock splitting your little asshole?”

“Yes.” Her eyes flashed fire, and she hissed through clenched teeth.

She didn’t look so submissive now, he thought with a chuckle.

This was how it should be. He should earn her submission. He should bind her to him by taking care of her needs and wrapping her in love and pleasure. “Give it a minute. Let your body adjust, love. You were made for me. You can take me.”

She lowered her head and leaned forward, flattening her back to push against him. It was just the traction he needed. With a low groan, he pushed his way in past her resistant muscles into the hot, tight clasp of her ass.

He held himself there, reveling in the feel of being balls-deep inside her.

“Are you going to get this over with?” His hands tightened in warning on her hips. “Don’t push me, love.

I’m enjoying this, and in a moment, you will, too.”

“I doubt that.”

He pulled back just a bit, with exquisite care. He watched as her muscles relaxed. He knew from having it described to him that this was the good part.

“Oh.” Jen’s breath came out in short, sharp pants.

“Tell me how it feels.” He wanted to hear it from her lips. He inched out again.

“It’s so…I don’t know, but it’s amazing. Do it again.” Her hands clenched, clutching the comforter in her fingers. She pushed her ass toward him as though trying to tempt him to stay inside.

“Your wish, love.” He thrust into her, a savage need taking over.

Her head fell forward, and she began to rock back against him as he thrust in and out. Stef alternated between watching the mirror and staring at the gorgeous sight of Jen’s ass taking his cock over and over again.

Stef drove forward, pulling her back so she took his full length.

He watched her in the mirror. Their eyes connected as their bodies pounded together.

“I love you.” She mouthed the words to him.

He loved her, too. So much. She was the other half of his soul, certainly the better part of him. She might never know how much he loved her, how much he was willing to sacrifice for her. She deserved more than he could give her. Even as he made love to her, he saw himself completely dominating her. He wanted to be the center of her universe. He wanted her main goal in life to be pleasing him. If she stayed, he would get her pregnant as soon as possible. He wouldn’t be able to help himself. She wouldn’t leave Bliss, wouldn’t see the world, wouldn’t become the woman she could be. She would be his wife, his submissive, his precious possession. How could he do that to her?

He slid his hand down to her clit. At least he could give her this.

He slipped a finger onto her clit and started rubbing in perfect circles, the movement timed to his fucking. His finger and his dick worked in perfect precision. He couldn’t keep her, but he could have a few weeks of joy. He could hold her and love her while she was here. He could please her and care for her so much that one day she might come back to him.

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. Jen’s mouth came open, and she came on a low wail. He met her stare in the mirror, trying to memorize the experience. His balls squeezed up, lighting a fire in his body as he fucked her. It would be so lonely without her, but he wouldn’t cheat on her. That’s what it would be. She was his soul’s mate, and the least he could give her was his fidelity.

The orgasm flashed through his body, flaring every nerve in his system. He grasped her hips, pulling her onto his cock one last time, as though trying to fuse them together in a way that could never be broken.

He came, the cum leaving his body in smooth jets of silky pleasure. He pushed again and again, giving her everything he had.

Finally empty, he fell forward, his cock slipping from the sweet comfort of her ass. He pulled her close, turning her so her chest met his, the clamps a reminder that, for a while, she was truly his. Her hands came up, smoothing back his hair.

“God, I love you so much, Stef.”

“I love you, too.” The words dropped from his lips before he could think to not say them. They fell between them like a loaded gun in Stef’s mind.

Jen merely smiled and brushed his lips lightly with hers. “I know, babe. I know.”

Stef wrapped his arms around her, and tossed a leg over hers so that he surrounded her body with his. He knew he probably seemed like a spoiled child attempting to utterly brand a toy as his, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to sleep like this, jealously guarding her against everything that might come their way.

“You’ll have to forgive him, you know.” She nestled her head into the crook of his shoulder.

He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. She was talking about his father. “I don’t see why.”

She was quiet for a moment, and he couldn’t help but think she was disappointed in him. It made him restless even as his blood pounded in languid afterglow.

“Why do you think he deserves forgiveness?” He wanted her opinion. He rarely asked for help in making a decision. He was very decisive, but she seemed so certain that he was wrong in this case.

Her face turned up, and the sleepy satisfaction in her eyes hit him straight in the gut. “Silly, I don’t think he deserves it. You do, babe.

Forgive him, because you might not have the chance to later. Forgive him. Forgive your mother. Let it go so we can move on. I promise I’ll help you.”

She settled her head against his again. Stef held her and thought about whether or not she would ever forgive him.

Chapter Fifteen

Alexei sat up from the strangely comfortable cot as the door to the station house came open and a large man with black hair and scars on his face walked in, followed by the woman named Callie. The big man had been the one who’d swept her out of the station earlier.

Alexei was confused. He’d thought the sheriff was her husband, but the other man had kissed her passionately and spoken to her, obviously concerned with her every comfort.

“Damn it, Zane.” The sheriff looked up from his mountain of paperwork and scowled as the couple entered. “I thought you were going to take care of her.”

“Yeah, well, Callie wanted to make sure the Russian prick got fed.” Zane was holding a bag in his hand.

Alexei’s stomach growled as the heavenly scent hit him.

Callie slapped the big guy lightly on his chest. “Be nice.”

“I’m with Nate. He pulled a gun on you.”

“He pulled a gun on Jen,” Callie corrected. “The dead guy pulled a gun on me, and then Alexei here saved me.” She smiled and winked at him. Alexei’s heart softened further. It had been so long since he’d had a moment’s softness. This Callie woman had a soft heart. She practically glowed with forgiveness.

“I am filled with apologies.” Alexei couldn’t say it enough.

“Yeah, well, be glad you’re not filled with lead, buddy.” Zane strode across the room and held the bag out. “If I’d been there, you would be just as dead as your friend.”

“Zane Hollister!”

The sheriff was leaning back in his chair, obviously enjoying the show. “I told you he would have reacted exactly the way I did.” Zane rounded on the pair. “No, I would have shot his ass.” The sheriff’s eyes hooded, and he sat up, straightening his spine.

“I’m actually glad I didn’t, Zane. He’s…different than I would have expected.”

Alexei listened in as the sheriff began to detail a bit of his own past to the other man. He’d spent several hours talking to the sheriff, a tape recorder between them. The sheriff had taken copious notes, and Alexei had been surprised to find that the man’s attitude shifted as he spoke.

He pulled the burger out of the bag. It was juicy and perfectly American. Alexei bit into it and thought it might be the best bit of food he’d ever tasted. When had he stopped enjoying the simple pleasures of life?

“See,” Callie was saying, “he’s not unlike the two of you. If your brother had been horribly murdered, you would have sought revenge.”

“I don’t have a brother,” Zane shot back with a stubborn edge to his voice.

There was a moment of silence. It was filled with meaning as the two men stared at each other as though speaking silently. Alexei watched, fascinated, as Zane shook his head.

“Fine. But I don’t have to like him.” Zane turned on his boots and strode back to the cell, coming within feet of Alexei. “Thank you for saving our wife.”

Alexei felt his eyebrows rise. Maybe his English was worse than he thought. “It was all I could to do. I could not harm the women.

They were innocent. It was not worth the revenge.”

“Well, I thank you for shooting your friend, anyway.” Alexei searched his brain for the proper American words.

Americans always knew how to describe an asshole. “He was not good friend. He was, how you say, a bag of douches.”

The sheriff laughed outright, and Zane’s mouth tugged up. “At least he has the lingo down.”

“He’s hell to understand, man. You should have been here.”

“Don’t make fun of him,” Callie chided. She took her place next to Zane, her arm hooking around his waist. “Your English is very good, Alexei. It’s way better than Nate’s Russian. And you barely have an accent.”

Zane snorted, but Alexei didn’t take it as an insult. He swallowed another heavenly bite of perfectly cooked burger. “I am thanking you for the hospitality. This is good booger. Best booger I ever to eat.” Zane glanced down at Callie. “Yeah, no accent at all, babe. It’s like he came straight out of Iowa.”

The door to the station opened again, and a big, broad man with reddish brown hair pounded in, brushing the snow off his coat and brandishing a file folder like a weapon. He walked straight to the sheriff’s desk and slapped it down. Caleb. Alexei wanted to shrink back. He’d spent an afternoon on the ice with this man. He was a bit gruff, but Alexei had admired how patient he’d been with the boys they had taught. He’d admired much about the man. He rather wished Caleb didn’t have to know what he’d done. Meeting Caleb had been the first time in years and years that he’d come close to making a friend.

Caleb didn’t look back at him. His eyes were firmly trained on the sheriff. “Here you go. Do you know what that is?” The sheriff didn’t appear to take exception to the other man’s outraged tone. “I could give it a good guess, Doc, but I think you’re going to tell me.”

“That’s my autopsy report,” the doctor said, slapping his hand down on the file folder. “My second autopsy of the day. Second.” The sheriff stifled a laugh. “And I appreciate your promptness.

Want to fill me in on this one?”

“You want a cause of death? Single GSW to the brainpan.

Although this guy seriously should have died from Hep C long ago.

He’s covered in tats. Laura was right. Those Russian guys love their tattoos.”

“He get most in prison,” Alexei said, getting up and moving to the bars.

The doctor turned and stared at him. “Are they meaningful?” Alexei didn’t like to think about what they meant. “Yes, they detail his crimes and how many he murders. It is how you know what a man is willing to do. He would have added to them for the killings he do here. He talks about it on the way here.”

“This is a nice town, you know.” The doctor’s face was turning a bit red, and he reminded Alexei of an angry bull waiting for his chance to charge. “You assholes walk in here looking to do god knows what, and you wreck everything. This is a nice place where people give a shit about each other. I should not have to do autopsies.

I should not have to write out the way people died of unnatural causes here.”

“I am very sorry. I could not save other girl. She was dead because I was…” Alexei let his eyes drift down.

Caleb stopped in front of the cell. “She died while you were out with me and the Farley twins?” When Alexei didn’t answer he put a hand on the bars. “What would you have done if you had been there?

Would she still be dead? Would you have helped kill her?” Alexei’s stomach churned at the thought. He’d been through the scenario in his head a million times. It had kept him up all night. He’d played it through, and he still wasn’t sure what he would have done.

“Caleb, stop.” Callie crossed her arms and faced the doctor.

Caleb didn’t look at her, obviously preferring to expend his intimidation on Alexei. Alexei forced himself to face the man he’d briefly thought of as a friend. The doctor wasn’t close to being done with him. “Why? Why should I stop? Why should I think he would have saved that girl? He almost certainly helped get rid of her body.

Am I wrong?”

The burger he’d wolfed down now threatened to come back up.

He could still feel the slight weight of her body in his arms. They had wrapped her in a tarp and taken her to an isolated part of the river. “I help him.”

“Yeah, I thought so. I had to perform an autopsy on a twenty-one-year-old girl today. The sheriff and I had to talk to her mother. We had to inform a mother that the child she carried in her womb is gone.

The child she loved and nurtured. The child who should have buried her is gone from this earth.”

The doctor’s voice shook. His eyes had welled up in righteous anger, and Alexei’s teared up in shame.

“I am sorry.” It was all Alexei could think to say.

“Yeah, I can see that. It won’t bring her back.” The doctor turned.

He pointed at the sheriff. “You get that asshole out of my town, Nate.”

The sheriff spoke quietly, as though trying to placate the other man. “The feds are coming for him. The roads are keeping them out of here tonight, but they should make it by tomorrow night. Until then, he’s going to be here.”

The doctor huffed and stormed out as quickly as he’d rushed in.

Callie’s big brown eyes stared at him sympathetically. “Please forgive Caleb. He lost his wife a few years ago, and his family no longer speaks to him. Once he was a very highly paid surgeon. Well, I won’t tell you that story, but he’s got a lot of anger. Don’t take it personally.”

“He is right.” Self-recrimination tasted bitter on his tongue. He deserved whatever these feds gave him. He deserved whatever hell waited on him.

A soft hand covered his own. He heard Zane curse, but Callie simply tightened her fingers over his hand. “Tell me something, Alexei, do you honestly believe that you would have stood there and allowed this Ivan person to kill that girl?”

He didn’t recognize himself anymore. And he had no idea what the word honest meant in reference to his own life. He’d lived a lie for so long. “I don’t know.”

Her breath came out in a tiny sigh. “I do. I know you’ve been through some bad things, but deep in your heart, you’re good and worthy, and you can fix the things you’ve done wrong. You would have stopped him. You would have saved her.” Tears fell from his eyes. The room seemed oddly still. Only Callie’s voice meant anything in that moment. “You do not know me.

How can you possibly know what I do?”

“Because you saved me.” She leaned down and placed a single chaste kiss on the back of his hand. “Because you saved Jen. And because you saved my baby.”

The men in the room gasped. Their deep, shocked voices were one. “Callie?”

She smiled at Alexei before turning, opening her arms wide. She nodded, her voice choked with emotion. “I just took a test this morning. Three actually. I was going to tell you this evening. We’re finally pregnant.”

The men crowded her, their arms forming walls around her. They squeezed her tight, kissing and nuzzling her.

Alexei watched the scene. He no longer cared that theirs was obviously an odd relationship. They loved, and it filled the room.

They loved, and it filled him with longing. He had absolutely no one who would put their arms around him and shut the world out. He’d given it up for the pursuit of revenge, and suddenly it seemed like a terrible thing to have missed out on.

He let his head rest against the cold metal bars. He would probably see a lot of metal bars in his future. An image of that pretty waitress slid across his mind. Holly. He would never have a chance to date a nice woman like Holly. He would be lucky if he survived at all.

“Hey.” A gruff voice pulled him from his misery.

He looked up, and Zane’s hand was out. It took him a moment to realize what the other man was asking for.

“You are sure?” Alexei had to ask. It felt wrong to simply accept that hand. The man should be sure.

“Yeah.”

Tentatively, Alexei put his hand in Zane’s. He wouldn’t have been surprised if it had been a trick. He wouldn’t have been shocked if Zane had used his hold to pull Alexei through the bars and bash his skull against them. A part of him kind of wished he would do it, but that large hand strongly pumped his own.

“Thank you. I don’t know why you did it, and I don’t care. You saved our wife and our baby. I don’t think I can ever repay you for that.”

Emotion choked Alexei. One good thing. He’d managed one good thing. He would have to settle for that. He wasn’t sure if it would save his soul, but it began to make it feel lighter. “I am glad I do this.”

“I’m calling Logan.” The sheriff hadn’t taken his hands off his wife. “I want to go home, Zane. I want to show our wife how well we’re going to take care of her.” He kissed the top of her head and walked to his desk.

Fifteen minutes later, they left, their arms around one another. The lanky deputy took over.

“You okay in there?” Logan’s face was open and slightly curious.

He was young, so young, to have a badge on his chest.

Was he okay? Perhaps not, but he was more okay than he’d been in years. His future looked bleak, but he had a chance to be something more than he’d become. He could not erase past mistakes, but maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to earn forgiveness.

“Yes. I am good.”

The young man smiled. “All right, then. I’m the night shift. I’ll probably fall asleep at some point in time. Just bang on the bars if you need something.”

“Yes, I will bang the bars.” He wouldn’t need anything. He settled himself on the cot, feeling lighter than he had in years. The oppressive sadness he’d felt was gone, only remnants clinging to remind him of his past mistakes.

“Oh, and your cell phone’s been ringing. I know I’m not supposed to, but did you need to talk to someone?” It must be a mistake. Everyone he knew was either dead or half a world away. It didn’t matter. He lay down on the cot and pulled the covers up around his chest. “No. There is no one to call me. Ignore this.”

Logan tipped his hat, a grin curling his lips up. “Can do. I’m really good at ignoring stuff. Only thing I’m better at is avoiding work.”

The deputy sat down in his chair. He propped his feet on his desk and leaned back. He tipped his hat over his face and was asleep in no more than five minutes.

Alexei stared at the ceiling, the events of the day playing through his mind, and a deep sense of relief spread through his body. Deep in the night Alexei heard the cell phone buzzing from its place in the small locker where the sheriff had placed all his personal items at the time of his booking. He ignored the sound. After a long while, he fell asleep and dreamed about what it would be like to have a best friend and a wife. He dreamed about how it would feel to share a life.

* * *

Jen woke and stretched, her limbs deliciously sore from repeated and vigorous sexual encounters with the man she could only think of after last night as her boyfriend. A smile stretched across her face.

He’d said it. He’d said I love you.

Oh, he’d looked a little terrified at the prospect, but he’d said it, and he hadn’t taken it back or tried to pretend like it was a friendly thing. No, he’d said it and held her and let her fall asleep in his arms and then promptly woke her up twice more in the night for some rough sex.

She might need to take up yoga. Nell taught a class at the rec center. Maybe limbering up would help her keep up with her old man.

She chided herself mentally. Never call him that. She couldn’t tease him about their age difference.

A heavenly scent wafted into the room, and Jen opened her eyes to discover she wasn’t alone.

“Whoa!” She pulled the covers up because she was looking at someone she hadn’t expected.

“Good morning, Miss Jennifer.”

Mrs. Truss was a solidly built woman of roughly sixty-five years with a very upper-crust British accent. She smiled down at Jen and placed a mug of what smelled like coffee on the nightstand.

“Good morning.” Jen glanced around the room. It looked like Stef had put up all the toys they had played with last night, but they were still in a dungeon. The woman’s grandmotherly smile and crisp white apron was incongruous in a room that had a whipping chair, a doctor’s table with a TENS unit, and a St. Andrew’s Cross.

“Don’t you feel self-conscious, Miss Jennifer. I’ve been cleaning up after Master Stefan’s parties for years. I received very thorough training on how to take care of all the toys and sterilize them.” Dear god, Stef had hired Mary Poppins to watch after his collection of vibrators. “I am so sorry.” Her laughter trilled through the air. “Not at all, dear. The master is a bit odd when it comes to his sexual proclivities, but he’s a very dear boy. I’ve been with him since he turned sixteen. Miss Stella hired me to take care of the house.”

Jen’s curiosity was on full alert. Carefully keeping the covers around her, she sat up and grabbed the coffee. “Stella hired you?”

“Yes. Stella practically raised the master, you know. After his father left, Stella took over. She didn’t trust the nannies, you see. She was only in her twenties herself, and she’d never had children, but she loved Master Stefan like he was her own.” Stef had been lucky. Stella was a natural mother. It had always been a bit confusing to Jen why someone with as much love to give as Stella had never gotten married. As far as Jen could tell, Stella never even dated. She’d thrown herself into her business and caring for the people around her.

“Why did Stella take over? Max and Rye’s mom was alive then.

So was Callie’s mom. That would have made more sense.” She shrugged. “I have my theories, but nothing concrete. Stella felt a deep connection to the young boy. He felt it, too. I came in to let you know that Master Stefan is having breakfast. I don’t believe he wanted to wake you, but I thought it might be a good idea if you joined him for breakfast. He’s dining with his father, you see.” That could go very poorly, and the last thing she needed was for Stef to screw things up with his dad. It had become very apparent to Jen that part of Stef’s problem was his unresolved conflict with his father. She wanted to be there to referee.

“Thanks, Mrs. Truss. I would very much like to join the Talbot men.”

The older woman nodded her head as though satisfied. She started out the door but turned. “Oh, and you have a call. It’s on hold. I had it transferred out here. Just pick up the phone on the nightstand, and it should come on. I’ll let the cook know to set up another place setting.

I’m very happy you’re here, Miss Jennifer. I think you’ll be perfect for the master.”

The door closed behind her, and Jen picked up the phone, wondering who would call her here. Everyone she knew would call her cell phone.

“Hello?” Jen asked, holding the phone to her ear.

Ten minutes later, soul utterly deflated, Jen got dressed, packed her clothes, and placed another call, this one to Callie Hollister-Wright. After arranging her transportation, she walked out of the guesthouse. She made her way to the main house and the breakfast room, her heart sick. She had to face Stef.

For the last time.

Chapter Sixteen

“Have you thought at all about what I said to you yesterday, Stefan?”

Stef looked up from his coffee as his father took the seat across the table from him. Had he thought about what his father had told him? He’d been awake all night thinking about his relationship with Jennifer, and his father’s words had played over and over again.

His mother had been certain she wanted a family. His father had said it himself. She’d been sure she wanted children, had pushed him for marriage and kids. Would it be the same with his Jennifer? Would he marry her and then be left behind when she realized how big the world was?

“Of course,” Stef said smoothly to his father. Stef found he’d softened toward him sometime in the night. He’d finally felt a true kinship with the man. They both loved women who could break them in two. “I want you to know that I don’t blame you. You wouldn’t have been happy here in Bliss. I understand, and I appreciate that you were willing to let me stay. It would have been easy for you to force me to go back to Dallas. I am truly glad I stayed here.” His father’s face flushed. “Yes, you made a family for yourself here. I can see that. But you’re wrong. I would have been very happy in Bliss. I was simply too afraid to stay.”

“Afraid?”

His father’s hands slipped around the mug of coffee in front of him. He took a drink before sighing and sitting back. His eyes were heavy as he spoke. “Yes, I was very afraid. I told you yesterday that I made a mistake in not staying here with you. I deeply regret it, and I hope you won’t make the same mistake I did.” The food in front of Stef suddenly didn’t seem as appetizing as it had before. He’d meant to come to the main house, grab some food, and rejoin Jennifer in the bed they had shared the night before. He’d meant to feed her from his hands and more than likely make love again. He’d realized the minute he walked into the house that he needed a bit of space. The night before he’d thought about keeping her in Bliss. He was making decisions based on his own needs rather than hers. He was heading down the same path his father had been down.

“I don’t intend to make the same mistake, Dad.” Stef forced himself to pick up his fork. “Why do you think I’ve made the arrangements I’ve made?”

Studying in France would give her the time she needed to make an informed decision. Of course she thought she wanted to get married and start a home. Stef knew Jennifer’s history. Her mother had been a bit of a drifter. Jennifer had gone to ten different public schools. It made sense that she would want roots, but she had no idea how famous she could be, how important her work could be. She should know all the facts before she decided how her life would go. It was the greatest gift he could give her.

Sebastian’s hands came down on the table, causing it to shake.

“You do not understand me. You are making the same mistake.

You’re walking out on a woman you love.” Stef sat back. His father’s outburst shook him a bit. The man had never raised his voice before. “Mom left you, Dad.”

“I’m not talking about your mother. I’m talking about Stella.” The fork dropped. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“This is what I’ve been trying to discuss with you. You think the biggest mistake I made was marrying your mother, but it’s not true. I was impetuous when I married your mother. She was lovely, and I thought it was time to get married. Your grandfather had turned over the reins of the company to me, and then he died. Mother had died the year before him. I missed my parents terribly. I threw myself into the relationship with Jackie. I wanted so badly to rebuild the family I had lost that I convinced myself I could love her. It wasn’t until I met Stella Benoit that I realized I had no idea what it really meant to love a woman.”

Stef sat, shocked at the way his father’s entire being softened at the mention of Stella’s name. Had he really had this whole life Stef had never known about? Somehow, he’d thought his father simply worked. In Stef’s mind, his father’s deepest relationship was with the company he ran. He’d never thought about his father’s heartaches past the wife who had left him.

“I met her the day we came to Bliss. You won’t remember, but I didn’t mean to stay here. We were going to visit my sister in Las Vegas. It was only chance that the car broke down here. It was only luck that a large section of land had just gone up for sale.” Stef searched his memory. He had a sudden image of himself as a child, a bit lost and tired from the long car trip. He’d been relieved when the car had died. His father had taken him to a diner. His feet couldn’t touch the ground from the booth. He’d sat there swinging his feet back and forth, back and forth. “It was supposed to be a hotel. A ski resort.”

“Yes. And we were only supposed to stay for the three days it would take to fix the car.” His father relaxed into his story. “I actually thought about calling to have another car delivered. I was going to make the call while we sat and had lunch, but those boys walked in.

They walked up and asked if you wanted to play. It was the first time I’d seen you smile in a month.”

Max and Rye. Oh, he remembered that. They had been grubby and disheveled from sleeping in the woods for days. They had explained that they were mountain men. Their momma let them sleep in a tent on the mountain they lived on. It sounded like a magnificent thing to Stef.

“While you played with the Harper boys, I talked to the owner of the diner. A few days turned into a week, a week into a month, and I bought the land from the hotel developers at twice the price.” And Stef had rarely left since. He’d gone on trips. He went to Paris and London. He’d traveled across Europe and Asia. He’d studied in New York, but Bliss was his home, his heart and soul.

Not really his heart anymore. Jennifer was his heart.

“Why did you leave? If you loved her, why did you leave?” A look of infinite sadness spread across Sebastian’s face. “I was afraid. When your mother left, I was devastated. I felt like the world was ripped out from under me. I put everything on hold. Stella was beautiful, but in every other way she was different from your mother.

In every way but one.”

“She was young.”

Sebastian’s head nodded briefly. “She was twenty-two years old when I met her. She was working the diner with her mother. She was even younger than Jackie. And I loved her more than I had imagined possible. I was in so deep with her. I told myself that it was a rebound fling. I fooled myself into thinking it was casual, but one night about a year in, I almost asked her to marry me.” He put a fist to his mouth as if to stop some great emotion that might come out. “I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it again. She said all the right things. She said she wanted to be your mother and wanted to have more kids. And I broke it off with her that night. I just knew she was too young to make that decision. I left soon after.”

A well of emotion caught Stef squarely in the chest. “She wasn’t too young. She stayed. She didn’t lie to you or falter. She was my mother in every way that counted.”

God, she had been. She’d been the one to make sure he had the things he needed. A thousand memories flashed through his mind.

Stella baking him birthday cakes.

Thanksgivings at the diner.

Shopping trips to buy him jeans, and later, she learned how to shop for art supplies.

Every year he’d watched as she’d matured into a woman the town depended on.

“She wasn’t,” his father repeated Stef’s words. Tears lit his eyes.

“She wasn’t Jackie, and she wasn’t too young. She knew her heart.

She was the other half of my soul, and I threw her away. Even though I walked away from her and broke her heart, she stayed and watched after my son.”

“Jennifer isn’t Stella.” The words were stupid and stubborn. He knew it, but they came anyway. Jennifer was an artist. Artists were different. Artists had needs. She was gifted.

“No, I’m not.”

Stef turned, and Jennifer stood in the doorway, eyes red rimmed and glazed with pain.

“Jennifer.” Stef began wondering exactly how much she’d heard.

Her spine was straight, and there was a bag at her feet. What was going on?

She held a hand out. “Don’t. I have one question and one question only for you. How were you going to make me go?” His stomach sank, but he attempted to keep a placid demeanor.

This might be a horrible scene, but if he could remain calm, they had a better chance at getting out of it without saying something neither could take back. “I take it the Sorbonne called?” Her green eyes had lost their sparkle. “Yes. They needed some information. Apparently no one told them it was a secret.” His heart fluttered as he realized just how hard she was taking this. The timing was perfectly awful on all counts. He’d certainly not meant for her to find out about it after the way she’d given herself to him the night before. And now, after making love with her and talking to his father, he wasn’t even sure if he was making the right decision.

For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t utterly certain which path to take.

“I made the arrangements yesterday,” he explained in an even tone that belied the way his heart was clawing at his chest. “I would think you would be thrilled, love. Learning at the Sorbonne is every artist’s dream.”

She shook her head. “Thanks, then, Stef. It’s a very nice gesture. I have to turn you down.” She reached down and picked up the suitcase at her feet. “I’ll come back for the rest of my stuff once I find a place to stay. If you need me, I’ll be at Callie’s for a couple of weeks.” Stef was on his feet in a second. “What is that supposed to mean?” He’d expected fire and fury from Jennifer. The deep, abiding sadness in her form was unexpected. “It means I finally get it, Stef.

You don’t want me. You don’t have to spend a ton of money to send me halfway across the world. I get it. I won’t be some puppy nipping at your heels anymore. But this is my home, and I expect you to be civil when you see me. I’ll be nice, too. In a while, it’ll all just be a distant thing. We’ll just be neighbors.” His fists clenched, and he felt his face go red. “Neighbors? I’m not your fucking neighbor, Jennifer. I’m your lover, and I’m doing what’s best for you. I’m trying to make your dreams come true.”

“Your dreams, Stef,” she said wearily, his anger not moving her a bit, it seemed to Stef. “I know you think I’m some amazing artist, but I want to paint because I love it, not because some critic says I’m the next Van Gogh. Van Gogh’s life sucked. If I get to choose a happy, mundane life or immortality, then bring on the babies and the laundry and the date nights. I know you think this is about me, but it’s not.” He stalked toward her. His hands itched to hold her and haul her back to the guesthouse. She wasn’t going anywhere. Not about her?

What the fuck was she thinking? His whole life had been about her since the day she walked into Bliss. “I beg to differ, love. I called in favors, and had my father call in favors, to get you into the program.”

“Stefan.” His father’s tone held a distinct note of warning. “Be careful what you say.”

Stef ignored him. He didn’t matter at that moment. Only the fact that she was defying him mattered. He might have been able to handle it if she’d fought, but the guilt she was pushing at him was a bit much.

He’d been the one to get her out of jail. Now he was moving heaven and earth to make sure she could see the world. He’d called yesterday about an apartment for her in Paris with a view of the Seine and every luxury available. And she called him selfish? “Me? I’m thinking of me? Was I thinking of myself when I got you out of jail?”

“I appreciate that, Stefan.”

He hated the way she’d said his name. She never used Stefan, always Stef in that casual, affectionate manner of hers. “I’m sure you do, love.”

“But sending me to Paris is entirely about you.”

“You’re going to have to give me a bit of explanation. I think your logic is faulty.” He wanted her to shout. If she would just shout, he could let out his pent-up emotion. She just stood there looking at him with what he was beginning to believe might be pity.

“I can’t quite figure it out, to tell you the truth. I only know it isn’t your great and deep love for me that has you shipping me out. It’s about fear, or it’s a test. Maybe both. You think that if I go off on some grand adventure I’ll come back and I’ll suddenly be mature enough for you to consider settling down with. But I think you’re wrong. I think you would just come up with something else. Maybe you would think I needed more time to be successful without you.

Maybe you would decide I wasn’t ready for kids. All I know is you’re the one making the decisions. You’re the one deciding what my dreams are and how I’ll achieve them.”

“Ah, we’re back to the King Stefan argument again. Yes, I’m horrible. I pull everyone’s strings. Poor Jennifer. I’ve been terrible to you.”

She sighed, her body sagging. “Not at all. You just don’t love me.”

“I told you I loved you. I said it last night.”

“Fine. I’ll rephrase. You don’t love me enough.”

“I love you enough to let you go.”

“But not enough to keep me. Not enough to let me make up my own mind. I would have been like Stella, you know. I would have been here. I wouldn’t have walked out. I can’t promise that I won’t want more of a career someday. I can’t promise that I’ll never want to spend time outside of Bliss. But there’s a difference between your mother and me. I would ask you to build that career with me. I would ask you to see the world with me because none of it would matter if you weren’t with me. She didn’t leave because she needed more than you could give her. She left because there was something missing inside her, something she never had. She didn’t love you. She didn’t love your father. The fault lay in her, not either one of you. But I would have loved you. So much. I know I’m probably proving your point by walking out now, but I can’t spend the rest of my life proving myself to you. I can’t wait around for you to decide I won’t ever leave, because I don’t think you’re ever going to believe it. I’ll always be younger than you, Stefan. I’ll always be an artist. And you’ll always be waiting for me to leave.”

Silence hung in the air, a palpable weight keeping them apart. Stef stared at her across the space between them and couldn’t seem to move.

“Jen?” Callie’s voice echoed as she walked through the door.

There was a solemn quality to Callie’s tone that let Stef know she had been informed why Jen was leaving.

“I’m coming.” Jen turned and began walking. “Good-bye, Stefan.”

She didn’t look back.

“Go after her.” His father was standing, staring at the door before shifting his focus to Stef.

Stef took a step back, and then another, until he found his seat. He had to force the air into his lungs as the truth crept over him. She was right and had been all along. He’d been testing her and calling it a selfless act. He’d said he wanted to wait until she was ready, but he’d been doing the opposite. He’d been watching and waiting and cocooning her in protection until he was ready.

She wasn’t the one who wasn’t mature enough for commitment.

He turned to his father. “Why did you come back?”

“Damn it, Stefan. This is serious. That girl is leaving you.”

“Why did you come back?” He shouted the question, all pretense at civility gone.

Sebastian stepped back, startled. “I came back because I couldn’t waste another moment. I came back because I love you, son.”

“Is that the only reason?”

His face a chalky white, Sebastian took his seat again. “No. I came back for her. She doesn’t seem interested anymore. I can’t blame her, but I’m going to try. I came back because I can’t live another moment knowing I haven’t done everything to make it up to her.”

And there it was. The truth. Fear had cost his father decades. It had been fear, not abandonment, that had ruined his father’s life. Stef sat back as regret swirled through him.

“It doesn’t have to be that way for you, Stefan,” his father urged.

Maybe. But maybe he’d ruined any chance he had. Would she believe him if he ran after her? The question no longer occurred to him whether or not he wanted her. He wanted her with all his soul. A new question had arisen.

Did he even deserve her?

* * *

Alexei yawned and managed to sit up, his muscles pulling and aching slightly from the too-cramped cot. It had not been made to accommodate a man of his size. The room was dim, the blinds still closed. He stretched and wondered what time it was. He’d managed to get to sleep. He’d been in worse places than the Bliss County Jail.

He’d even found the deputy’s light snoring somewhat comforting. It was a reminder that he wasn’t alone. For the first time in a long time, his dreams hadn’t been about blood and loss.

“Don’t worry about it, Sheriff. You do what you need to do. I knew I’d be working a lot during the festival.” Logan was talking quietly into the phone as though he was trying not to disturb his prisoner. Alexei was astounded by it. “I’m fine. Naw, I might have snuck a little nap in. I can handle things this morning. Just give me the weekend off next week, and we’ll call it even. Thanks.” Logan put the phone down and glanced Alexei’s way. “Oh, hey.

Sorry if I woke you.”

“Not at all. I sleep very good.” He wasn’t about to return the deputy’s kindness with complaints. Alexei felt his stomach rumble.

Logan walked to the front window and twisted the cord that opened the blinds. Sunlight streamed into the room. The street outside was covered in a blanket of snow. A few people walked past the window, long, colorful boards in their hands. “Stella should be here any minute with your breakfast.”

If breakfast was as good as his dinner had been, Alexei wasn’t sure why there weren’t more people in jail. He felt unaccountably cheerful. It made no sense. He was sitting in a small jail, waiting to be taken to a larger jail where he would most likely be interrogated and potentially deported to a place where everyone would want him dead.

Yet, he felt a sense of peace he’d not felt in forever. He was going to do the right thing. He was going to bring down Pushkin, but in the proper way, in the way that would have made his family proud.

“Is the FBI still coming?” Alexei suddenly wanted to get started.

He was eager to begin this new life he’d found.

“Yes. They’re driving in, though. The airports in Colorado Springs and Denver closed. There’s an ice storm. We’re good here, but they’re going to have to fly into Albuquerque and drive up from there. I hope they know how to drive in the mountains. I doubt they’re going to get here until tonight.”

Patience. He would have to be patient. Alexei nodded. “It is good.

Is sheriff indisposable?”

Logan’s face went slack, his jaw open. “Huh?” He would really have to work on his English. He searched for the words. “He is working on other things?”

“Oh, yes. He’s helping out with the setup this morning. The finals of the snowboarding competition take place on the mountain today.

We’re a real small town. Everyone has to help. This festival is our biggest event of the year.”

The door flew open, and a small, well-wrapped person stumbled inside. At first, all Alexei could see was a bright blue coat and a plastic bag. Logan rushed to the door and managed to catch the visitor before she went tumbling.

“Hey!” a soft voice fluttered as the woman in the coat was helped to balance by the deputy. “Sorry, Logan. I slipped on the ice. It’s getting bad out there. I hope it doesn’t hurt the festival. Stella sent me with your order.”

“Holly Lang! Everyone’s been looking for you. Damn it, where have you been?” Logan took the bag from her hands, frowning at her.

Holly. Alexei wished the floor would open up underneath him and swallow him whole. Sweet, sexy Holly was here, and he was behind bars. It wasn’t the way he wanted her to see him. Oh, he knew there was no way he could have any sort of a relationship with her, but she’d flirted with him and shown him her kind nature.

She shrugged out of her coat and stomped her boots on the mat in front of the door to get the snow off them. Her pretty green eyes were on Logan as she replied. “My evil ex managed to forget to tell me Nicky was going on a retreat with his high school band. Jerk. I only get to see him every other week. He knows how far I have to drive, but does he call?” Her face was tight for a moment, but she smiled, obviously throwing off her anger. “But I got to talk to him on the phone. He’s doing so well. He made the honor roll.”

“That’s great. While you were gone, two people died and there was a shooting and a stolen painting, and guess who has the key to the mystery?”

Holly had gone very still. “Died?”

“Yep, murders. It’s been a regular CSI episode around here, except without the bad jokes. Every time I tried to make one, or dramatically take off my sunglasses, Sheriff slapped me upside the head.”

“I’m about to do the same thing, Logan. Who got killed? Dear god, why didn’t someone tell me? Stella was crying when I got in today.” Holly looked like she was about to cry, too. It ate at Alexei that he’d had a hand in that.

Logan placed his hands on her shoulders. “It was a tourist.

Everyone in town is fine. And Stella’s been crying a lot lately. My moms think she’s going through the change. I don’t know what that means. I try to avoid all talk about feminine parts with my moms.”

“So two tourists died?”

“One tourist, and some Russian dude who was trying to kill Jen and Callie.”

“Oh, my god! I leave for twenty-four hours and this is what happens? I think I met the Russian guy. He seemed so nice.”

“It was not me,” Alexei said. “It was partner, Ivan. He was not so nice.”

Holly turned, noticing him for the first time. “Hello.” Her voice sounded awfully small now that she realized she wasn’t alone with Logan.

“Hello.”

“I remember you from the diner the other day. You took the Farley twins out. They couldn’t stop talking about how nice you were.” She smiled at him, her face lighting up. “What did you do?

Jaywalking? Nate can come up with a lot of reasons to toss a tourist in the clink, but usually it’s just because he’s in a foul mood. I’m afraid our sheriff is a bit of a character. He only narrowly avoided losing to a rubber duck in the last election. What was your name again?” Logan gestured to the cell Alexei stood in. “That’s Alex Something Russian. He’s a member of the Russian mob, and he’s looking for a painting his boss had Jen’s old boss steal for him.”

“Really? So he’s an actual criminal?” Holly looked between the deputy and Alexei as though trying to discern if someone was joking.

“Yeah, but it seems he’s reformed. He took out the other fellow and saved Callie and Jen and Callie’s baby.” Holly’s startled shout echoed though the small building. “Callie’s pregnant? Did I miss a newsletter? Damn it. I hate not having a phone. I had to use the Evil Ex’s to talk to Nicky. The minute I can afford it, I’m getting a cell phone.” Alexei’s attention shifted. There was a small group of men walking across the street. He couldn’t see them clearly yet, but they stood out. While everyone else was casual, there was a certain formality about these men that had Alexei staring. They wore black coats in a sea of colorful, fun parkas.

Logan continued to talk to Holly, poking at her like an annoying younger brother. “Yes, that would have been helpful since you’re the one who knows who has the painting everyone is looking for.” A cold chill went through Alexei’s body. Was that? Dear god, that looked like Luka. Luka was one of Pushkin’s top men.

“I do?”

Luka turned and pointed at the same building that housed Alexei.

Bile bit at the back of his throat. The phone. His phone had gone off all night. It hadn’t bothered Logan, but the trill had awoken Alexei several times.

Logan pointed toward the cell. “This guy came to town looking for a stolen painting. Apparently Jen’s boss in Dallas hid it. It’s behind one of the paintings Jen gave you to sell. The one for Rachel.

You sold it to someone, but we can’t read the receipt.”

Now Alexei could see that Luka had two other men with him, Nikolai, Luka’s brother, and Pushkin himself. His hands tightened around the bars. Pushkin had come after the painting. Alexei knew Ivan had called in and told Luka where they were going, but he’d never imagined that Dimitri Pushkin would come himself.

“Oh, well, that was—”

“Is that my food?” Alexei interrupted them with a short bark. He had seconds to decide what to do. A plan flashed through his brain. It was probably a terrible plan, but it was all he could come up with.

The three men were moving with purpose toward the office. There was no time. If they walked in, they would simply kill anyone in their way. At least this way they had a chance.

Logan picked up the Styrofoam container and walked toward the bars. “I think it’s pancakes and sausage.” The minute the deputy was in reach, Alexei reached out and grabbed him by the neck. He heard Holly gasp. The tall deputy didn’t weigh much. It was easy to haul him close and grab the gun out of his holster. Alexei turned him quickly, pulling his back against the bars.

He wrapped an arm around the deputy’s neck. He could break it if he wasn’t very careful.

“I need you to be listening. There are very bad men be coming in.

They will kill you both unless you do this right.”

“Yeah, well, I’m getting the feeling you’re the one who is going to kill me.” Though his voice was steady, it was soft. A fine tremble went through the younger man. “You get out of here, Holly.”

“Don’t. If you run, they will stop you. They will be here in seconds.” He softened his hold but didn’t let Logan go. There wasn’t time to run. They crossed the street, moving ever forward, snaking through the crowd toward their destination. “You cannot to tell where painting is. If you tell, you die.”

“Fine. If I don’t tell?”

“You be beaten very badly.” He would be tortured, and Alexei would have to watch until he could gain the advantage.

“Why should I trust you?” The question came from between gritted teeth.

Alexei put his heart and soul into his reply. He had to make Logan believe him. “Please to trust. Please, I can’t…I can’t take more killings. I will help as soon as I can, but there are three of them and one of me. I will have to go with them for while. But help will come.

It will.”

There was no time to get Holly out. She stood staring at them, terror in her eyes. He had to deal with her, too. Pushkin was at the door. Alexei could hear the outer doors open. In a moment, they would be inside, and he wouldn’t be able to explain.

“I need you to listen, Holly. I want to see you safe. You must to take the gun. Hold it on the deputy like you are trying to get me out.

You are my ho.”

Her spine snapped to attention, and her green eyes flashed. She took the gun from him anyway. When their fingers touched, Alexei felt a jolt of connection. “I am so not your ho.”

“You must pretend. If you are mine then they will not rape your body and slit your throat.”

Logan nodded, his head tapping against the bars. “I think you should be his ho, Holly.”

“Fine, but I’m not happy about it.” She held the gun out, her hands trembling.

The door opened, and Luka walked in first, with Pushkin behind him.

“It took you long enough.” Alexei switched to Russian. “I was beginning to believe you would leave me to rot.” Pushkin surveyed the room while Nikolai bolted the door. “I suspected something had gone wrong when neither you nor Ivan would answer the phone. Ivan told me you were having difficulties. I do not like difficulties, so I come myself. I’m not happy, Alexei. The trip was horribly long, and we had to drive through a storm. Where is Ivan? And who is the girl?”

“Mine. The girl is mine.” He brought his arm back through the bars, freeing Logan, who slumped to the floor as though overwhelmed. “Holly, dearest, you can put the gun down now. These are my friends. I told you about them.” He sent a silent prayer that she would be able to play along. They were locked in with men who wouldn’t think twice about raping and killing her. Nikolai was prowling around the room, looking for anyone else they might have missed. He was too close to Holly for Alexei’s comfort.

The gun came down at her side. “Does this mean we can get out of here, baby?”

Luka reached down and hauled Logan to his feet. “You open the door and let my friend out.”

Logan stumbled a bit as he dug into his pocket for the keys. His eyes came up and met Alexei’s. There was a wary plea in his eyes, but there was strength there, too. The deputy was young, but a stubborn will lit him now.

The cell swung open, and Alexei grabbed Logan by his shirt, pulling him forward savagely. He brought him close and whispered.

“Survive. Tell them you know nothing. I won’t leave you, but you must survive.”

“Just get Holly out.”

Alexei let his voice rise as he shoved Logan back. “I promise, you swine.”

The other Russians laughed.

“Did this skinny thing give you trouble, Alexei?” Luka asked, his Russian dark and thick with menace.

“He’s like all pigs. Police are the same everywhere.” Alexei stalked out of the cage and slid an arm around Holly, pulling her close. He slid the gun from her hand to his, the weight a welcome burden. He was armed. He would find a way. Patience. But first, he had to get to the bad part. “Ivan is dead.”

A loud curse filled the room. “How?” Pushkin grunted the question.

“I can guess.” Nikolai brought his booted foot out and kicked the deputy squarely in the gut.

Alexei’s arm tightened around Holly as she stiffened. He saw how she bit back a cry. This would be hard on her. He pressed her face into his chest. “It wasn’t this cop. It was the sheriff. Ivan was foolish. He killed a girl and didn’t do a good job hiding the body. The police came after us, and Ivan pulled his gun. I knew I could escape with Holly’s help. I thought it was better to stay alive.” Pushkin was circling Logan like a shark playing with its food.

“Where is this sheriff?”

Logan’s throat worked up and down. “At the festival. He won’t be in today. I was only in because we have a prisoner.” A predatory smile crept across Pushkin’s face. “I noticed you have closed sign on your door. That is quaint…and very helpful to us. Tell me something, Alexei. Do you know where the painting is?” This was the bad part. Alexei’s gut felt tight as he did what he had to do. “I don’t, but he knows. He talked to the sheriff about it. They have stashed it. They don’t mean to turn it in. They mean to sell it.

Like I said, the police are the same everywhere.” Nikolai reached down and brought Logan’s head up by his brown hair. He spoke in thickly accented English. “This is true?”

“I don’t know. I don’t speak Russian, asshole. I have no idea what any of you has said for the past couple of minutes.” Logan’s whole body was tense, but the words spat from his mouth.

Pushkin slapped him, the sound reverberating through the room.

He switched to heavily accented English. “Then let me speak your language. You will tell me where my painting is.”

“Can’t help you, buddy. I don’t know nothing about art. I’m just a country boy.” Logan’s face was bright red, the imprint of Pushkin’s hand plain on the skin.

Pushkin snapped, and Nikolai began to drag Logan toward a desk in an office at the back of the room. It was far from the front door.

That desk would serve as Logan’s torture chamber. All the while Luka watched Alexei, his gun close at hand. His eyes were on the woman in Alexei’s arms, Alexei realized. He got the feeling Luka wasn’t convinced that all was as it seemed.

Alexei would have to wait.

He prayed Logan would survive the experience.

Chapter Seventeen

Stef’s first instinct was to find her. His second instinct was to tie her up, throw her over his shoulder, haul her ass back home, and never allow her to leave again.

That was why he was attempting to ignore his first instinct.

“You want to hand me that rope, or are you going to hang yourself with it?” Rye stared at him, his hand out.

Stef passed him the rope, but thought seriously about hanging him with it. Asshole. Rye had it all. Rye had a wife and a brother and a baby on the way. Rye never fucked things up the way Stef did. If Rye had been Jen’s lover, he wouldn’t have hesitated. Rye rarely questioned himself, and his easy confidence was pricking at Stef’s finely held temper. Still, he’d come here to look specifically for Rye.

He was restless, utterly uneasy, a need rolling in him that was going to find its way out. He’d realized he could pick a fight with Max or Zane or he could try…talking about his feelings. He just wasn’t sure where to start. “Here you go.”

Rye took the rope and started to put together the corral. He and Max were expanding their pony rides. It had been a big hit yesterday, with long lines of kids waiting to ride the gentle horses. Stef couldn’t help but think about the fact that it wouldn’t be too long before Rye’s son would be learning to ride. Rye’s son would grow up in Bliss. He would run wild in the wilderness with his brothers and sisters like Stef and Max and Rye had.

The image of his own kids running around Bliss and sleeping on the mountain made his heart feel too big for his chest. He would have told anyone who asked that he didn’t want kids, but he’d lain awake last night thinking about the fact that Max and Rye’s and Callie’s kids would be here soon. Everyone was talking about the fact that Callie was pregnant. He wanted kids. He wanted his and Jennifer’s babies to grow up with their cousins.

“Are you going to talk about it or just brood?” Rye asked as he pulled on the knot he’d tied.

Brooding hadn’t gotten him anywhere. “I’m afraid.” Rye tipped back his hat and placed one hand on his hip. “I know you are. You’ve always been afraid of this.” Stef was startled by the statement. “What does that mean? I’ve never had a real relationship until I met Jen.” Rye nodded. “That would be my point. Hell, even Max had a girlfriend or two. I’ve known you most of my life, Stef. The truth is I don’t remember much of a time before I knew you. I watched you push away most people.”

“I didn’t push away you and Max or Callie.”

“We’re safe. You needed us, and we needed you. And you made damn sure we needed you, Stef.”

Stef felt himself pull away. Without meaning to, he even took a step back. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Stef, it’s nothing to be ashamed of, but it’s become a habit with you, and it needs to stop. You buy people’s affection, at least that’s what you think you’re doing. We met during the summer. I remember it like it was yesterday. When Max, Callie, and I were going to have to go back to school, what did you do?” God, he felt like he was fucking eight years old again. Vulnerable.

Needy. Desperate to keep his newfound friends. “I asked my dad to bring in a tutor because the bus trip was so long into Del Norte.”

“Is that really why you did it?”

Stef shook his head. He remembered, too. He remembered pleading with his father. He hadn’t needed to. His dad had been more than happy to do it. His father had paid for tutors for the Bliss kids from that point on. “No. I was afraid the three of you would get to school and find other friends, and I would be out.”

“I know, brother.” Rye walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. “I know that’s why you did it. I know that’s why you built the town hall, and that’s why you give loans to anyone in town who needs one and never charge interest or even ask them to repay you.” The money didn’t bother Stef. His father had set up a trust fund Stef would never be able to get through in one lifetime. “If they can, they will. If they can’t, then I won’t miss the money.”

“Stef, you throw money around this town.” King Stefan. He could hear Jen say the words in his head.

Pathetic. He was still a little boy trying to tie people to his side.

Another voice spoke up as Max walked around the side of the trailer. “Man, you have to know that we don’t love you because you paid for our school.”

Max’s face was bunched up, his brows forming a V over concerned eyes.

“He knows,” Rye said with more confidence than Stef felt. “He just lets a lot of the past get in the way. Stef is real damn good about figuring out everyone else’s motivations. Just not so smart when it comes to his own.”

“Is that why Rach keeps calling him a dumbass?” Stef felt himself stiffen. “Your wife has very little respect for me.” Rye shook his head, a little laugh escaping his lips. “Our wife loves you very much. She just thinks you’re wrong about Jen. I remember the day she walked into town looking for you. She wanted art lessons or something.”

“She’d made a study of my work. She wanted me to mentor her.” Stef had taught her a few things, just nothing of value. He hadn’t taught her how much he loved her.

“She tracked you down to the diner.”

Max smiled at the memory, obviously caught in it. “Stella thought she’d have to toss you out. You two sat there for eight hours talking and arguing.”

He’d been in love with her about twenty minutes after meeting her. She’d been so vibrant. She’d argued with him about the importance of the Impressionists and held several wrong views of the eminent Jackson Pollock, but he’d been utterly fascinated with her, hanging on to her every word.

“And the next day, you told her politely that you didn’t teach art and holed up in your studio for three weeks,” Max said.

He’d brooded. He’d worked. He’d done just about anything to avoid that girl with the killer smile and a saucy comeback to everything he said. He’d been afraid of her then. He was terrified now. Only now, he was starting to be more afraid of being without her.

“You think you’re sending her away because you want her to have the things she needs, but, Stef, damn, you’re trying to make her grateful to you. Can’t you see this is the same thing? You think you can buy her a career and she’ll be happy and grateful, and she won’t leave you because you made it possible.” Max nodded sharply. “Rach is right. He’s a dumbass. Jen already loves him. No woman puts up with the shit he’s shoveled out if they aren’t in love.”

“He thinks she’s too young, but she isn’t. He thinks she wants some megapowerful career, but she doesn’t,” Rye said. “She wants to live here in Bliss and paint and have a happy life with the man she loves. You took me aside the day I finally got together with Rachel, and do you remember what you said to me?”

“I said she’s ready.” Stef felt his heart seize. What if she really was ready? What if he was just a dumbass who let his past hold him back? What if he chucked that past aside and went after what he wanted?

Rye and Max looked at each other, doing that weird twin thing they’d always done, as though, at times, they spoke to each other without saying a word. “She’s ready, Stef. Go get your girl,” they said in perfect harmony.

A blanket dropped over Stef’s soul, a warm, perfect feeling of complete certainty. She was his. He was hers. They didn’t have to follow anyone’s path but the one they set themselves. She wouldn’t leave. If she wanted to see the world, she would turn to him and tell him to show it to her. And he would. If she wanted to show in galleries, she would turn to him and ask him to help her. And he would.

He was her slave, and she would never leave him behind.

“I’ve got to find her.” Now that he’d made the decision, he couldn’t stand the thought of a moment going by without telling her.

Telling her? Hell, he’d probably have to beg her. Maybe if he offered to turn the trip to Paris into a honeymoon, just maybe, she wouldn’t attempt to cut off his balls with a rusty knife.

“She was with Rachel and Callie. They were heading to the diner,” Rye said.

Nope. She was with Rachel. She would definitely try to cut his balls off. He smiled at the thought. Jen was a lot like Rachel, brave and unwilling to take a bunch of crap from anyone. Except him. She’d taken his crap for a while now, and he swore he’d never give it to her again. He had other things he wanted to give.

The phone in his pocket rang. Stef reached in and pulled it out, hoping it was Jen. It wasn’t. He slid the bar to answer the phone anyway, stepping away from Max and Rye. He wouldn’t ignore this call.

“Finn, what’s up? Have you managed to get the charges dropped?” Stef wanted the answer to be yes. Before this moment, he’d been willing to let justice move slowly. Jen couldn’t start her new life until the charges against her were cleared. Now that her new life would be with him, Stef wanted that cloud out of the way. He was doing it again. He was trying to give her what she wanted, what she needed, so she would be grateful. He wasn’t going to change. He would always move heaven and earth to get her what she wanted. But from now on, he would make damn sure it really was what she wanted. “Give me some good news, man.”

“The charges are dropped.” Finn’s voice came over the phone loud and clear. “The DA filed the papers this morning. As of 8:00

a.m., your girl is free and clear.”

Stef clenched his fist in victory. Now nothing loomed over them.

They were both free and clear. “Finn, you’ve done an excellent job.

Please let your Master know just how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I’ll talk to my father about transferring some of Talbot Industries’ legal work your way. We’re always getting sued for something.”

Finn laughed over the phone. “Don’t get me wrong, Mr. Talbot, I would love the work, but I didn’t really have much of a hand in this.

The police found the painting.”

“What do you mean they found the painting?” Stef stopped, his feet halting as though a wall had been thrown up in front of him. The painting was supposed to be here. Why had those Russians come to Bliss and taken Jen if they weren’t looking for the painting? “The police found the Picasso?”

“Yes, it was hidden in a vault at the gallery. I have no idea what kind of games Renard was playing, but they go deep. The police have connected him to the mob, believe it or not.” A cold feeling stole over Stef that had nothing to do with the temperature. “The Russian mob.”

“Yes, apparently Renard did odd jobs for them. The Russians have started to make a fortune selling masterpieces lost during World War II. They turn up now, and the mob is selling them on the black market for extravagant sums. Apparently Renard served as a go-between. Guess he screwed up somewhere.” Finn sounded very confident, even as Stef felt his stomach doing a triple loop dive straight to his feet. “And tell Jennifer that while going through Renard’s records, we found an order for one of her paintings. Renard was holding it for a buyer. It looks like she’s doing well. Twenty-five-thousand dollars is a lot for a new artist. Maybe she can still talk to the buyer, now that she’s out of this mess.” But she wasn’t. Oh, she wasn’t even close to being out of it. She was right in the middle, and she didn’t even know why or what they were really coming after her for, though Stef had a horrible idea.

Without pausing to say good-bye to Max and Rye, Stef took off running for the diner. He had to find her and find that painting.

* * *

Jen sniffled and dragged great breaths of air into her lungs as she sat in a booth at the diner.

“Asshole.” Rachel slapped at the table in a much-appreciated show of female solidarity. Rachel had shown up at Callie’s cabin just as Jen and Callie had gotten back from Stef’s. The women had commiserated with Jen before Rachel announced she needed breakfast.

“He’s my best friend, but I’m going with you on this one, Rach.

Asshole.” Callie’s sweet voice always sounded odd when she cursed.

“Fucking asshole.” Zane’s did not. Zane sounded perfectly comfortable calling Stef all sorts of vulgar names. His huge frame dominated the booth at Stella’s.

Jen felt stupid. She was crying in the middle of a diner. She’d managed to hold on to her self-esteem for a little while. She’d gotten to Callie’s. She’d moved her pitiful belongings into the loft, climbing up the ladder into Callie’s childhood room. There was a cot on the floor and a small dresser. She’d sat on the cot and stared out at the mountain knowing Stef was sitting in his place. Jen had sat there for an hour wondering if he even noticed she was gone.

Why did she have to love an idiot?

“It’s not working,” Zane whispered to his wife. “You said it would work. I think she’s still broken.”

“I am not broken.” Jen frowned at Zane. He sat looking so manly and hunky hot. Now he was madly in love with his wife, but he and Nate had put Callie through the ringer, too. It was just what men did.

“And you’re an asshole, too.”

Zane’s handsome face lit with surprise. He stared at Jen openmouthed before turning back to his wife. “Why am I an asshole?

I drove you to pick her up. I cleaned out the loft so she would have a place to not be homeless in.”

Jen sniffed, a nasty feeling in her gut. She didn’t particularly want to have anything to do with men right now. It didn’t matter how nice he’d been to her. “Do you have a penis?”

“Last time I checked,” Zane replied.

“Then you’re an asshole.” She couldn’t help it. She picked up her napkin as a little sob escaped. God, she ached. It was a real physical pain.

“I told you.” Rachel’s hand came out, patting Jen’s back. “Let it out, sweetie. Don’t hold back just because one of them is around.”

“One of them?” Zane asked, obviously confused at his persona-non-grata status.

Callie sighed. “Yes, baby. You have a penis. That makes you the enemy right now. Jen just broke up with the love of her life. Do you really think she wants to be comforted by you?”

“Max heard Jen had broken up with Stef. Did you see how he treated her? He tipped his hat and ran the other way,” Rachel explained as she wolfed down her pancakes. “Rye wouldn’t even get out of the truck until she’d walked on by.”

“I couldn’t leave Callie,” Zane explained. “I haven’t trained an overgrown dog to follow her around.”

Q’s head came up over the table. His tongue came out as he looked at Rachel’s plate. She patted his head to settle him back down.

“Don’t you dare,” Callie said.

Jen listened to her friends. She knew they were trying to be helpful. They were trying to be supportive, but they had families and futures. Rachel was just about to give birth, and Callie had just announced she was pregnant. Jen wasn’t anywhere close to being ready for a baby, but she wouldn’t want any baby but Stef’s. She wouldn’t have a family. She looked at big, gorgeous Zane, who worshipped the ground his wife walked on to such an extent that he was willing to share her with his best friend. Rachel had two husbands. Jen couldn’t even keep one man interested in her. Nate and Zane and Max and Rye wouldn’t let their wives out of their sight, but Stef wanted to send her to France.

She couldn’t help it. The tears started again.

Zane’s wide green eyes were huge as he stared at Jen in abject horror. “Oh, wow, just let me kill him. Would that make her stop crying? It’s killing me.”

Jen growled his way. Her friends were right. She just didn’t want to be around men right now. They all sucked. “I want to cry, asshole.

You, go away.”

Zane scooted out of the booth after kissing his wife on the forehead. He pointed toward the counter. “I’m going to be right over there, babe. Out of the line of fire.” He practically ran away.

Callie shook her head before reaching out to Jen. “He means well.”

“I know.” Everyone meant well. Stef meant well, at least he thought he did. Meaning well had broken her heart. She could still see his face as he’d worked over her the night before, still feel his arms around her. God, how was she going to get through the rest of her fucking life without him?

“Jen, are you sure about this?” Now that Zane was gone, Rachel had softened, sympathy plain on her face.

“I have to be.” Jen meant what she said. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life with a man who was waiting for her to leave. “He was sending me away. I don’t know if he meant to talk me into leaving or just flat-out shove me on a plane.”

“I know.” Callie had heard the whole story told to her in between Jen’s sobs. “But you love him. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.

Maybe if you talk to him.”

“And say what?” Jen asked. “Look, I love him. I think I’m going to love him for the rest of my life, but I kind of love me, too. If I hang around for years and hope that one day he’ll see that I’m worth the risk, I don’t know if I’ll be able to respect myself.”

“She’s right.” Rachel rubbed her hands along her lower back as she spoke. It seemed to Jen that it had been bothering her for hours.

“What’s she supposed to do? Put her life on hold because one man is a fool? Oh, I hate this.”

Jen put aside her own misery briefly. “What’s wrong?” Rachel shook her head. “Stupid Braxton-Hicks. I’ve been having them for the last couple of weeks.”

“That’s false labor,” Callie supplied. “A lot of women get it. It prepares you for real labor.”

“It prepares you to want to kill yourself.” Rachel tucked a piece of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear, a grimace of pain flashing across her face. “She’s so bright-eyed about this. I was that way, once, before I gained four hundred pounds, started having to pee every five minutes, and waddled like an overstuffed penguin. And I have three more weeks of this.”

Callie’s face lit up. “And then you’ll have a baby.”

“Yeah,” Rachel replied, her hand going to her stomach.

Stella walked up, coffee urn in hand. She was made up as usual, but there was something a tiny bit duller about her this morning. Jen could tell she’d been crying. She’d heard Sebastian’s story. Her heart had broken for Stella with each word he spoke. And she’d heard a bit of her own future in there, too. Stella always seemed so alive and happy. What heartache had she harbored? She’d never married. As long as Jen had known her, Stella hadn’t even dated. She’d built her life around this diner and Bliss and raising Stef.

Was this going to be her life? Would she throw herself into her work because she couldn’t have the man she loved? It would be ironic if she ended up with the kind of career Stef wanted for her. And empty, because he wouldn’t be there to share it.

“Do you need some coffee, hon?” Stella asked, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

“I’ll take some. I’m the only one not on mommy restrictions.” She held her cup out.

“God, I miss coffee.” Rachel leaned over and breathed in the aroma.

“Stella, I thought you were working at the festival today? Aren’t y’all selling lunch for the snowboarding competition?” Callie asked.

Jen hadn’t thought about that. The whole place was being cleared out for the noon start of the finals of the competition. Everyone would be on the mountain watching it. Downtown would be very quiet this afternoon. It would be a good time to check out the town hall. There was a bulletin board there with job listings and places to rent.

“I just talked to Zane about that. He’s going to help out. I’m shorthanded. He’s a good man, your Zane. He’s helping out with the short-order line while Hal makes sandwiches and salads.”

“Ah, learning at the feet of the master,” Callie said with a grin.

“He’s been taking cooking lessons from Hal. Last week it was something French.”

Zane stepped in beside Stella, a plate in his hand. “Coq au vin, babe. And it was just a bit salty. I’ll get it right next time. Here’s your bacon, Rachel.”

As Zane slid the plate across the table, Callie’s face went slightly green. Her hand flew up, covering her mouth.

“Oh, I’m going to be sick.” She slid out of her side of the booth and started to sprint for the bathrooms. Zane ran after her, not bothering to stop at the ladies’ room door.

“Yep, she’s pregnant.” Rachel sighed and bit into her bacon. “The smell of bacon gets to some women. Not me. This baby boy likes meat.”

A wistful smile stole across Stella’s face. “Max and Rye were always like that. Their momma would have to fight to get them to eat a vegetable. Not Stef, though. He ate everything I put in front of him.” Jen felt her eyes tear up. At least Stella had Stef to lavish her love on. She looked up at Stella, wondering if there was still anything left besides bitterness. “Sebastian came back for you.” Stella’s shoulders squared after a moment of pure surprise.

“That’s what he said. But he’s gone through something terrible. Many people make illogical decisions when they think they’re dying.” Rachel’s head moved back and forth as though she was watching a tennis match. “Sebastian came back for Stella?”

“He loves you,” Jen said. “He knows it was a mistake to leave.”

“Oh, my god, Stella had an affair with Stef’s dad? Does Callie know? Do I know something before Callie?” Rachel asked.

“You hush,” Stella admonished. “This is very old gossip. No one would care about it. I’m surprised Sebastian even talked about it around Jen.”

“He didn’t know I was there. He was telling Stef.” Stella blanched. “He told Stef?”

“Yes,” Jen said. “He told Stef that the worst mistake he ever made was walking away from you.”

“It was.” Sebastian’s voice carried across the diner. Jen turned, and he was standing there, hat in his hand. “It was the stupidest thing I ever did because I threw away the love of my life. I thought of you every day. You were the first thing I thought of in the morning and the face I pictured in my mind before I went to sleep at night. When I was in chemo, I sat in the chair and I pretended to hold your hand. I pretended you were there. I told myself that if I lived, I would come for you. I would come into this diner and sit here until I made you understand how much I love you.”

Tears streaked down Stella’s face, but she held her head high.

“You might have pictured my face, but that isn’t the face I have now, Sebastian. I’m an old woman now. That time is long past.”

“Then I’ll start a new time,” he said, nodding resolutely. “And you aren’t old, Stella. Never. You’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” Stella said, her hand clutching the urn like a shield.

Sebastian’s eyes studied her, and his lips curled up in a sad little smile. “Well, I’ll wait until you decide. I’ll wait a day, or a month, or a year. I’ll sit at the counter and hope you smile at me. I’ll make a life in Bliss so I can be part of your world. I’ll wait as long as it takes, and if it takes longer than this life, then you should know, Stella Benoit, that I’ll wait in the afterlife, too. I’ll wait forever.” She set the urn on the table. It clattered, utterly forgotten and useless because Stella was walking toward him.

“You better not change your mind, old man,” she said as she walked into his arms.

“Never,” he said, pulling her close. He buried his face in her hair, his arms closing around her, knitting them together.

“That was so beautiful,” Rachel said, turning to Jen. Her face was bright red, and tears poured from her eyes.

Jen felt her own tears as she put an arm around her friend and let her cry.

It had been beautiful.

“I can’t do it,” Jen whispered, more to herself than anyone else.

Rachel smiled through her tears. “Of course, you can’t.” Jen looked down, startled. “How do you know what I’m talking about?”

“I’ve been where you are, Jen. I know what you’re thinking. You can’t stand by and let him go. You have to fight. This isn’t something you just let slide. He’s your man. You fight for him. If you have even the smallest doubt in your head that this isn’t over, then you go after him with everything you have. I never thought you were going to give up.”

“Even when I ran away?” Jen asked, a light feeling stealing over her. She could still fight. If Sebastian could come to his senses, then Stef could, too. Jen just didn’t plan on letting nearly thirty years go by. His skull was going to soften up more quickly than his father’s.

“Yes,” Rachel said. “I knew you would come back. Tell me you hadn’t thought about it.”

She’d dreamed about it every night. If things hadn’t gone horribly wrong, Jen knew she’d have been home by summer. The day before she’d been arrested, she’d sat down and written a long e-mail to Callie. She hadn’t sent it, but she’d saved it. Eventually she would have sent it, and Callie would have replied, and she would have allowed herself to be “talked into” coming back. “I would have come back. I love him. I love him so much.”

“I know. It’ll work out, Jen. You’ll see.” Rachel wiped her eyes with her napkin. She turned in her seat to face the newly happy couple. “Hey, Stella, why don’t you call someone in so you can take the afternoon off?”

Stella’s face was vibrant as she faced Rachel. Sebastian’s arms were around her, and she threaded her fingers with his as though she couldn’t stand the thought of losing contact. “I have Holly. She can handle this little crowd. I’ll head out when she gets back.” Jen felt her whole body flush. “Holly’s back?” Stella nodded. “Yeah, she came in this morning. She wasn’t scheduled, but you know her, she’s always looking to take an extra shift. She has to pay that greedy ex of hers, or she never gets to see her kid.”

Rachel was already moving. “Where is she? Does she know Nate’s been looking for her?”

“No,” Stella replied. “But I sent her to the Sheriff’s Office. Maybe that’s why she’s taking so long.”

Jen scooted out of the bench, following Rachel. It would be such a huge relief to get that damn painting back. Then she could concentrate on convincing Stef. “Thanks, Stella. I’ll send her back as soon as I’m done talking to her.”

“I’m coming with you,” Rachel said, grabbing her purse. “Don’t you leave me behind. You’ll be surprised how fast I can waddle.” Jen took her hand. “No, I wouldn’t. Come on then. Let’s find that stupid painting, and then I can find Stef.” It was a short trip from the diner to the Sheriff’s Office just three buildings in between and a hop over the street. The Sheriff’s Office was housed in a small building just off Main Street. Rachel walked behind Jen, only slowing her down a bit. The air was brisk, and the snow was falling only lightly. Jen could see that the crowds had thinned out. They would be on the mountain where the day’s competition was getting started. It made the streets of Bliss nice and quiet. Only the park would be bustling at this point. The rest of Bliss was a bit of a ghost town. Jen made it to the front of the office first and pulled on the outer door. It was locked. She banged on it.

“Logan, wake up!” Jen yelled as she pounded on the door. Logan was not known for being the most dedicated deputy. He could often be found napping or reading comic books with his earbuds in.

“Logan!”

“Stop that,” Rachel said, frowning. Beside her, Q sat down and stared up at the women. “You’re going to wake the poor boy up. I know where Callie hid a key. Nate throws Max in jail often enough that she let me in on her secret.”

Rachel reached under the sign that proudly proclaimed this place to be the Bliss County Sheriff’s Office and pulled out a small magnetic box.

“Only in Bliss would someone hide the key to the Sheriff’s Office,” Jen said, shaking her head.

Rachel slipped the key into the lock and turned it. She started to open the heavy outer door that led to the swinging doors inside. She stopped suddenly. “Why was the door locked? Didn’t Stella say she sent Holly with breakfast? Logan wouldn’t lock the door after Holly.” Jen paused as she stepped inside, Rachel behind her. “I don’t know. Do you think something’s wrong?” As she got the words out of her mouth the answer became very, very apparent.

“You must to come in now, Miss Jennifer.” Alexei stood in the doorway, his bulky body blocking the entrance, a gun fisted at his side.

Jen watched in horror as he leveled the gun, aiming it straight for her head. Yep, something was very, very wrong.

Chapter Eighteen

“It’s a woman.” Alexei’s dark voice was tossed over his shoulder, but his eyes never left her. They were hard as steel. “What should I do with her?”

Utter confusion was making her head spin. Alexei was out of his cage, and he had a gun in his hand. Jen could hear a conversation going on in the office, but she couldn’t see past Alexei. She heard someone speaking, his voice rough, almost guttural. It was a language she didn’t understand. It had to be Russian. Oh, god, Alexei’s mob friends were here. He’d tricked everyone into believing he was on their side, and now he’d taken over the station house.

“It’s just one woman, Nikolai. I think I can handle her.” Rachel took a quick step back.

He was letting Rachel go. He had to know she would go for help.

He looked past Jen at Rachel, and he gave her a barely perceptible nod before reaching out and grabbing Jen’s arm. She turned her head as fast as she could and saw Rachel disappear as the outer door closed.

“You are not Jennifer,” Alexei announced into her ear as he pulled her roughly into the room.

“Jen?” Holly’s voice trembled.

Jen heard Alexei curse under his breath, but it looked like whatever game he was playing, this piece was blown. Jen looked around the room as her pulse threatened to explode. She saw Holly standing by Logan’s desk, her face white as a sheet, but she appeared unharmed.

The shortest of the men stepped forward. He was dressed in a suit and tie, his graying hair slicked back. He was older, but by no means soft. He said something in Russian as he looked her over. Alexei replied, his manner slightly deferential, as though he was speaking to his boss. He finished and nodded slightly.

“Hello,” the boss said. “My name is Dimitri Pushkin. You are Jennifer? Renard’s Jennifer?”

Jen was somewhat startled at the sound of Renard’s name. She knew she shouldn’t have been, chided herself for it. He was the asshole who had gotten her into this situation in the first place. “I worked for him.”

Jen watched Alexei as he moved to Holly’s side. His arm slid around her shoulder, hauling her close. All the while, he held the weapon casually at his side, yet his eyes never left the other two men in the room. It seemed to Jen that Alexei was watching two snakes, waiting to see which would strike first.

“Yes, and it seems you worked against him, too.” Pushkin walked up to her, his finger lifting to her chin. Jen forced herself to stay still under his scrutiny. The Sheriff’s Office wasn’t exactly the biggest building in town. She found herself against the reception desk with no real place to run now that the doors were locked again. Her only hope was that Rachel still had the key. She glanced at the clock. 10:23 a.m.

The streets were deserted, but Zane was still at Stella’s. All Rachel had to do was get back there and get Zane. Zane would bring everyone else. She just had to hold on.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, mister.” Ignorance might buy her a few minutes.

“I am talking about the painting I purchased. I would like it back.”

“I don’t know where the Picasso is.” It was the truth. She had no idea, and it was apparent that Alexei didn’t want Holly to talk. The minute Pushkin had started toward Jen, his hand had tightened on her shoulders as though in warning.

Pushkin’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t give a shit about the Picasso, and you know it. I want the painting I purchased from Renard. Your painting.”

“My painting? But my painting is the one that Renard hid the Picasso behind.”

“Silly girl. That’s what I told my employees. Trust me, what is hidden behind your work is much more valuable than any painting to me. Now, you can tell me where it is, or you can join the deputy.” That was when she heard it, a low moan coming from Nate’s office. It sounded like an animal in pain. She tried to dismiss the notion that the person who made that low, utterly hopeless sound could possibly be happy-go-lucky Logan.

There was a humorless chuckle from Pushkin. “Americans. I see you are shocked. This is because you are the world’s children, every one of you. You believe that life is innately fair when the rest of the world knows that it is not. You tell yourself that pain and horror, these are things that happen to other people. Certainly not to someone as privileged as yourself.” He leaned in. She could feel the heat of his breath snaking over her skin, smell the stink of cigars on him. “But I am your teacher. The world is not fair, little girl. It is not some amusement park.”

There was the sound of something thudding and then that long, low moan that ate at Jen’s soul. She felt her jaw clench and angry tears prick at her eyes. “You’re a monster.” The door to Nate’s office opened, and a man stepped out. He looked something like the man backing up Pushkin. He was dark and nasty looking. He had taken off his coat and jacket at some point in time. Jen could see he had laid them over a chair. He was stripped down to a white T-shirt that was now splattered with blood. Jen’s mind tried to grasp the implications of that bright red blood. He said something in Russian and shook his head.

Pushkin grunted his reply before slipping back into English. His lips curled up in a satisfied smile. “You call me a monster? I am. Do you know anything about history, little girl? I find so few Americans do. Back in Rome when the gladiators would fight, the patron of the games would stand at the end of the fight, and he would decide the fate of the loser. If he gave a thumbs-up, the man would live. But that did not happen often. He would more likely give the thumbs-down, and the loser would fall. So much life lost on the simple placement of a thumb. But the Romans understood. There are only a few people in the world who truly matter. The powerful people of this world are the important ones. The rest are all slaves who have forgotten their places. Your deputy is learning this lesson right now. He learns that his control was an illusion. His life is not his own, and it never was.

He was merely waiting for someone important to show him his place.”

Impotent rage choked her. “You let him go.”

“Now, why would I do that? He has offended me. He arrested my man, kept him from doing a very important job for me. More importantly, I don’t care. He is nothing, a bug that I squash beneath my feet.”

Logan, sweet, funny Logan, was at this man’s mercy, and he had none. She couldn’t help it. Her hand came out, and she slapped him for all she was worth. Flesh met flesh in a satisfying smack. The man who had been standing by the door was suddenly at her side, his thick, meaty hand tight around the arm she’d hit Pushkin with.

“Don’t break the girl.” Pushkin barked the order. He gave no indication that he was at all affected by her small act of violence.

“Yet. The little girl has claws. I believe you will discover mine are longer and sharper than yours. You will tell me where the painting is, and I will give you a quick death.”

All the more reason to be happy she had no idea where the damn thing was. Pain might be in her future, but Rachel would be back.

Rachel would bring Zane and Nate and, god, she wanted Stef. She wanted to see him and hold him and have him tell her she was going to be okay. The thought of never seeing Stef again, never holding him, was too much to bear. She had to endure whatever this man handed out because she had to be alive when Stef came for her.

“I don’t know.” The world was fuzzy through her tears.

Pushkin frowned and turned to the man in the bloodstained Tshirt. “Luka, go and finish the deputy. We need the space for another interrogation. This one will be more fun for you, no?” Alexei whispered something to Holly, who turned her mouth up to his and let him kiss her, their mouths pressing together in something that seemed staged to Jen. He stopped Luka with a hand to the other man’s shoulder. “I would do this myself. I am the one he stuck in a fucking cage like a dog.”

Luka looked to Pushkin, who nodded his assent. “Let Alexei have his blood. You will have the girl’s soon enough since her tongue seems unwilling.”

Luka smiled at her, a dark, wicked thing. “I think I will use different strategy with such a pretty girl. We’ll see if I can fuck the information out of her.”

Pushkin laughed as the men disappeared behind the door.

It was only a moment before Jen heard the shot that ended Logan’s suffering.

She heard Holly gasp and placed a fist in her own mouth to stop the wail that threatened.

She looked at the clock. Ten thirty.

Stef would be here. Stef would come for her. It was a mantra in her head. She closed her eyes and prayed.

* * *

Stef slammed into the back of the café at exactly 10:25. He pushed through the back doors from the alley and into the kitchen just as Zane was carrying a distinctly green Callie out toward the parking lot and his truck.

“Hey, you okay, Cal?” Stef asked, stepping around Hal, who was busy making sandwiches. Hal frowned at all of them. He didn’t like the fact that they were in his kitchen, but he kept his mouth closed because Stef rarely used the front door.

She smiled wanly from her big brute’s arms. “I’m fine, Stef. Just a little pregnant.”

“I’m going to take her home now that the morning’s fun seems to be over,” Zane said, looking a little green himself. “Tell Nate where we are if you see him.”

“Sure thing. Where’s Jennifer? Max said she was with Callie and Rachel?” He tried to keep the panic out of his voice.

Zane shrugged. “Don’t know. They must have left while Callie was heaving half her body weight in the bathroom.”

“Gross.” She smacked Zane in the chest, but Stef didn’t miss the way she cuddled against him as though she could draw his strength into her body.

“If I see her, I’ll let her know you’re looking for her. You try her cell?”

“She’s not answering,” Stef replied. He turned and saw Stella at the counter. She was talking to his father. Zane and Callie continued out toward the parking lot. Stef stalked to the counter, pushing through the swinging doors, a restless feeling in his gut.

He didn’t fail to notice that Stella’s hand was in his father’s, their fingers entwined. He was happy for his father and Stella, but he couldn’t let that take precedence over his need to find Jennifer and that painting.

“Stella, where did Jen go?” Stef asked, well aware that his voice was gruff.

Stella’s face looked years younger as she turned to Stef. Her hand never left Sebastian’s. “She was here just a bit ago. She and Rachel went to find Holly.”

A deep voice spoke up from the end of the counter. “Holly came back?”

Stef glanced at the doctor, who was sitting at the end of the counter, sipping a mug of coffee, and it hit him. Who the hell else in this town would let Holly talk him into buying a painting for far, far more than it was worth right now? Stef knew Jen’s paintings would be worth more one day, but for now, it was only of interest to investment collectors. Holly couldn’t know that it was worth anything. Who would she sell it to? Who else but the man who had walked into town and promptly fallen in love with her? Oh, Stef knew Caleb hadn’t made a single move on her yet, but he brooded enough to let the world know he was crazy about her. As a man who had spent an enormous amount of time brooding over a female, he knew the signs and could diagnose the good doc’s disease.

“Where did you stash the painting?” Stef asked, unwilling to waste a ton of time.

Caleb sat up straight. “The painting? I don’t paint.” Stef bit back a moan of frustration. He’d already forgotten. “The one you bought from Holly?”

Caleb’s eyes suddenly found his coffee mug as though he was seeking something there. “Oh, that. Yeah, I loved that painting. So beautiful.”

“Cut the crap. Everyone knows you have a thing for Holly.”

“No, I don’t. I’m married.” Caleb shook his head, running his hand across his face. “I mean, I was married. I…it’s too soon to think about anyone else. Holly is just a nice girl.” Caleb’s wife had been dead for five years, but Stef wasn’t about to argue with him. “Where is it?”

He shrugged, as though content to put the other line of conversation behind him. “I put it in my office. It’s in a closet. I haven’t had time to put it up.”

It would have to do for now. “Good. Keep it there. Don’t let anyone into your office until I get Nate off the mountain. Stella, try calling him. If that doesn’t work, someone go down and wake Logan up. I have to find Jennifer and get her somewhere safe.”

“Didn’t Jennifer go down to the Sheriff’s Office?” His father had already pulled out his cell and passed it to Stella.

Stef heard a dog barking as the doors to the diner came open, and Rachel stumbled in. Everyone was on their feet in an instant. Stef managed to get to her just as she began to fall to the floor. Her face was red and covered in tears.

“Oh, god, not again.” She moaned as her whole body seized and pain contorted her face into a grimacing mask.

“Rachel, how far apart are the contractions?” Caleb knelt beside her, his hand finding her wrist. For all his tics and odd mannerisms, the minute he needed to, he became a cool, calm professional.

She shook her head. “No contractions. It’s just a little pain.” Stubborn. It described Rachel to a T. Stef tried to settle her down.

“Rachel, I see your stomach seizing. You’re in labor. I can tell, and I don’t have a medical degree.”

“I can’t have the baby now,” she said, her voice hitching with every breath.

“I don’t think he’s going to wait, Rachel.” Caleb put a hand on her belly. “I need to get you back to the clinic. I don’t know that we have time for a hospital. Besides, you have to have the baby. Your water looks like it broke. No turning back. I believe I explained to Max that it wasn’t like someone dumping a glass of water on the floor. He didn’t listen to me, hence the dog is still here. Come on, let’s get you to the clinic.”

“No!” Rachel forced herself to sit up. She held on to Stef. “I have to get back to Jen.”

Stef felt the air around him go cold. “What’s wrong with Jennifer?”

Rachel opened her mouth to speak, but her body wasn’t her own again. A low wail came out. “Fuck. I hate this. I hate this. Please, I want my husbands. Please.”

“Damn it.” Caleb cursed for a few seconds and got to his feet.

“Stella, we’re having this baby here and now. She’s probably been in labor all day and was too stubborn to admit it.”

“It’s too early. It’s too early,” Rachel said through her tears.

“Please, Stef. They have her.”

“Who?” Stef was trying to be patient. “Rachel, you have to tell me where Jennifer is and who has her.”

She gritted her teeth as she tried to get up. “Sheriff’s Office. We went to look for Holly, but the place was locked. I knew where the key was, and Alexei took Jen. He pulled her inside, but he let me go.

He was talking to someone. I don’t know how many are inside, but they have the building under their control.” Stef cursed inwardly. If only he’d walked around the front of the building, he might have seen Rachel and gotten to Jen sooner. Habit had brought him to the kitchen entrance. He’d come to Stella’s this way since he’d been a child.

He had known he should have killed the son of a bitch. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again. He would kill the Russian as soon as he could, and if he could make it painful, it would be for the better.

Rachel doubled over and screamed in pain. Quigley whined and tried to lick her face, offering the only comfort he could. Stef reached over to a table that appeared to have been recently vacated, picked up the half-full glass of coke, and dumped it on the floor beside the dog.

Quigley immediately took off, his huge body easily pushing through the swinging doors.

“There, Rach,” Stef said. “Q will go get Max if we can’t get him on the phone.” He turned to the doctor, who was running antibacterial gel all over his hands and forearms. “I have to go.” Caleb nodded and took Rachel, helping her to stand. “I know. I can’t leave her. Stella is calling Nate, and she’ll call Zane back if she can get him. You’ll have backup.”

Stella rushed forward. “Don’t you dare go after her without this.”

Stella passed her Colt .45 to him. He felt better just having the weight of the gun in his hand. He checked the chamber and pocketed the extra ordnance she gave him. Stella went on her toes and kissed his cheek lightly.

“You come back with her. You understand me? You come back safe,” she said tightly, her eyes glazed with unshed tears. “You’re my boy. I don’t care who gave birth to you. You’re my boy.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, a wealth of love for her filling his heart.

She’d been his mother in every way that counted.

His father stepped forward. “Stefan, I’ll come with you.” Stef looked at his father. His frail father was willing to go into god knows what with him. Jennifer had been right. It was past time to forgive him. Sebastian had made mistakes, but he was trying to fix them. One day his father wouldn’t be here, and Stef wouldn’t be able to work anything out. The time to fix things was now. He put his arms around his father. “I appreciate it, Dad. I do, but I’ll move better on my own. Stay here. I’ll come back. Dad, lock the doors after me. Shut the blinds. Unless you know the person, don’t let anyone in. Stella’s is closed for the day.”

Stef nearly ran out the door. In the distance, he could see Max and Rye running down the street from the park, but he didn’t have time to wait and wasn’t sure he should. Their son was about to be born. He couldn’t wait for Nate and Zane. He had to get to Jennifer, and he had to do it fast.

His mind racing with a thousand horrific scenarios, he tried to narrow his focus as he jogged between Stella’s and the gallery beside it. He crossed the street and went behind the town hall to get to the alley behind the buildings. He couldn’t go in the front door. It didn’t make a lick of sense to grab the painting and try to negotiate. The mob didn’t negotiate. And how exactly would he negotiate? No, he had one option and one option alone.

Kill them all.

Stef slowed as he reached the Sheriff’s Office. He thought about the building. Nate’s office was closest, and there was a small bathroom attached. The window was supposed to be permanently shut, but Rye had broken the lock years before during a summer heat wave when the air-conditioning had gone out. On quiet feet, Stef moved toward his destination. What had already happened to Jennifer? What had she gone through?

He forced himself to quell his panic. Rushing in and getting himself killed wouldn’t help Jennifer. He wasn’t sure how many were in the building, but they would all have guns. Mobsters had guns, probably more than one apiece. He would have to be careful and hope that Nate was careful, too. To that end, he quickly pulled out his cell and sent a text. God only knew if Nate would get it. The only sure way to get a hold of him while he was working was to call on his police radio, and the equipment for that was currently surrounded by the mob.

But he doubted they had all the bases covered. They could lock the front and back entrances, but he knew how to work this particular entrance. As quietly as he could, Stef pressed in on the lower pane of the window. His ungloved fingers were bitten by the cold, but he had to move with great care or he might make a sound that would alert them. Jennifer was counting on him. Slowly, surely, he pushed the window open and gripped the sill. It was tight, but he fit, lowering himself to the tiled floor of the bathroom. He could hear someone in the office. Adrenaline pumping through his system, Stef eased the safety off the Colt and listened at the door. He could hear people talking, but couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying. He gently turned the doorknob and opened the door slightly, wincing at the little creak.

Nate’s desk had been trashed. His pictures and files were tossed carelessly to the floor to make way for the body that lay atop it. Bile rose in his throat when he realized the body was in a bloodstained khaki uniform with a silver star on the chest.

Logan.

His chest rose just barely, as though only a thread of life remained.

Stef’s hand tightened on the gun as the outer door opened.

He shrank back, waiting for the perfect time to pounce.

Chapter Nineteen

Alexei followed Luka into the small office, his every nerve vibrating with tension. He’d begged Holly to stay calm, whispering into her ear, promising her he would save her. How was he going to save her? Any way he looked at it, he lost, and that meant she would lose as well. The minute he revealed himself to be less than the perfect soldier, he would be killed, and his “woman” would be fair game. If they had time, they would rape her before slitting her throat.

If they did not, then a bullet through the brain would end her very quickly.

Three against one. He had to find a way to even up the odds before he took the chance.

And then Pushkin had thrown it into his lap. He’d told Luka to kill the deputy.

No one would know that Alexei had killed Luka until he walked out of the office, guns blazing. It would give the women time to run.

It would give them a chance. That was all he could ask.

His heart was racing, his hand trembling. He had to do this right, or he would let them down.

“The boy was utterly useless,” Luka said in Russian as he approached the body on the desk.

The deputy’s hands had been bound with the telephone cord. His long legs dangled off the edge of the desk. They were still, so still it scared Alexei. Was the deputy already dead? His face was a bloated mess, seemingly just a mass of blood and bone and tissue with nothing to animate it. Alexei had seen this before, but now it made him sick. This man had done nothing to deserve his pain.

“Ah, well, at least the girl will be more fun.” Luka laughed as he pulled his gun. He put it to the young man’s forehead. Logan lay still beneath the gun.

Alexei whipped up his own pistol to kill Luka before he fired, but the report of gunfire blasted through the room, making his ear ache.

His heart nearly stopped as Luka turned and fell to his knees. The gun fell useless at his side. He began to bleed from the back of his head.

Looking up, Alexei saw a man move from the shadows where he’d clung like a wraith. Long and lean, the dark man slid into the room. His gun still smoked, heat flowing off it, but his eyes were arctic cold.

“Give me one good reason not to kill you.” He remembered this man. Jennifer was his woman. He’d come for his woman. Alexei dropped his arm to the side, along with the gun.

He kept his voice very low. “Because they will believe one shot, not two.”

“You were sent in here to kill Logan?” Alexei nodded. “I was not going to do it. I was going to kill Luka.

You were faster.”

“A nice little fairy tale.” The man’s voice was as cold as his eyes, but he seemed to listen to reason since Alexei wasn’t dead on the ground like Luka. “But I don’t know why I should believe you. I doubt Logan would believe you.”

“I don’t blow the sunshine up your asshole,” Alexei argued. He had to make him understand. There were two of them. They had a better shot if they worked together.

“Don’t, Stef.” The words were quiet, but Logan’s lips moved, and his bound hands came up. He spoke through cracked, bleeding lips.

“Don’t kill him.”

Stef’s face finally showed a flicker of emotion, a grimace of pain for his friend. “Don’t talk, Logan. I’m going to get you out of here.”

“There’s no way out. No way,” Logan muttered and mumbled something unintelligible.

“We must to move quickly,” Alexei said, fumbling for the English words. “Pushkin be expecting Luka. He is supposed to torture the girl.”

Stef’s face hardened again, his will implacably marked there.

“How many?”

Alexei finally let out a breath. The man was willing to be reasonable. “Only two, but the girls are out there. Holly and your girl are out there. Pushkin was very interested in your Jennifer. He thinks she knows where his painting is.”

“No, she doesn’t, but I do.” Stef pulled a knife from his back pocket. It was a utilitarian knife, and he used it to free Logan’s hands.

The deputy groaned quietly as he tried to flex them.

“It will not matter. He will not make bargains with you. He will say one thing but do another. If you offer a trade, he will kill everyone. He has to.” Alexei had seen Pushkin in action far too often.

He was a snake, and he would turn on anyone if he saw a profit in it.

The dark-haired man nodded. “I thought as much. He can’t leave us alive. He certainly won’t believe we won’t call the authorities. So we have to kill him. You willing to do that?” A malicious little joy lit Alexei’s heart. He had done the right thing. He had offered to give up his revenge, but now it landed in his lap as though the heavens had decreed it be so. He could save his soul and kill the man who had taken his brother. “Oh, I have waited many years to do such a thing. But, I won’t have the women harmed. I would rather he go free than risk them.”

“I would rather get the lay of the land. We can’t just walk out shooting. We could hit one of the women.”

“Holly knows what I do. She is supposed to cause some chaos.

How about we cause some chaos of our own?” Stef hesitated, but Logan managed to reach out and take his hand.

Stef looked down at the deputy. He could only get one eye open. The other was swollen shut. Logan swallowed before he spoke. “You can trust him. They would have killed me and Holly. He told us what to do.”

“He’s the reason we’re all here,” Stef argued.

“Is there a problem, Luka?” The throaty Russian voice rang through the building.

Stef’s entire body tensed as Alexei clutched the doorknob. It was time to decide.

“Are you in the in door or going to the outs?” Stef snarled, but stepped forward. “If I live through this, you’re getting English slang lessons. It’s just ‘are you in or out.’” Alexei raised an eyebrow.

“Fine. I’m in.”

Alexei opened the door. It was time to finish it. For good or bad.

* * *

The shot was still ringing in Jen’s ears as the fact of Logan’s death washed over her. How was he gone? Why had Alexei allowed it to happen?

“Stop crying, you sniveling bitch! Do you have any idea how much I hate you?” Holly stormed across the room toward her. The sweet-looking redhead had a scowl on her face normally reserved only for soap opera actresses in the middle of a big scene. “I hope Alexei kills you himself.”

Holly launched herself at Jen, hitting her squarely in the torso, and both women hit the ground.

Jen was caught completely off guard and felt the breath knocked out of her.

“Sorry. I’m supposed to cause a distraction. Alexei is supposed to kill the other guy. Get ready,” Holly whispered in her ear before pushing herself up. She straddled Jen and pulled back her hand.

The younger man, Nikolai, grabbed her fist, laughing. “You are a righteous bitch. Alexei chose well.”

He hauled Holly up by the back of her shirt. Jen found herself with her back against Logan’s desk, staring up at Nikolai and Holly.

Logan had left his drawer open, and as she attempted to get up, her hand slid across the comic books he kept there, causing her to fall again. She reached up again, and her hands met something wooden.

She couldn’t see it, but she knew what it was. Logan’s whittling knife.

“Calm yourself, girl.” Pushkin stepped between Holly, who looked like she was auditioning for “Bad Girls Club,” and Jen. He snarled at the red-haired waitress. “Watch it. Alexei is not the boss here. I am. I don’t like trouble, or the people who cause it.” While Pushkin made his speech, Jen grasped the knife in Logan’s desk. It was small, with a one-and-a-half-inch blade and a wooden handle. Logan had brought it into the diner swearing he was going to quit his deputy job and make a living whittling bears and wolves.

He’d been awful at it, and the knife had disappeared.

Jen slid the blade, handle up, into the pocket of her jeans and then stumbled to her feet. It was tiny, potentially useless, but it was all she had.

“What is taking so long?” Pushkin asked, stepping toward Jen, a scowl on his face. He grabbed her arm. “Are they taking apart the body? Tell Luka to toss the body to the side. I want to get this done.” Nikolai turned to the door. “Is there a problem, Luka?” The door to Nate’s office opened, and Jen felt her heart drop to the floor. Alexei moved out of the office. Stef—her beautiful, strong Stef—was in his grips. A gun was pointed straight at his dark head, the metal at his temple. Alexei had one of Stef’s hands behind his back for leverage as he pushed him along.

“Yes, there was trouble,” Alexei said. “I found this one lying in wait.”

Nikolai cursed and said something in Russian.

“I am sorry,” Alexei said flatly. “He killed your brother.” Nikolai spewed what had to be something vile. His face became a wicked shade of red. He pushed Holly aside and started toward Stef.

“Nikolai!” Pushkin shouted across the room.

It felt like the world slowed down for Jen. One minute everything was far too fast and the next was horribly, painfully slow. She tried to run to him. She had no idea what she would do once she got there.

She only knew she couldn’t watch Stef die. He’d come for her, like she’d known he would, and the outcome of that act couldn’t be his death. She took one step and then another before she felt a hand on her arm, pulling her back.

Nikolai’s gun came up, his movements jerky as though rage had taken over and there was only one thought on his mind. Jen screamed, pulling against the hand that held her, but his strength ensured she couldn’t get away. Futilely she tried, panic overtaking her, but the fist on her arm tightened, hauling her back as his other arm raised a pistol.

Jen heard Holly scream and hit the floor, covering her ears as a loud report boomed through the building. Gunfire cracked through the air, at least two shots going off, but it was Nikolai who jerked backward as though he had hit a wall and bounced back. It was Nikolai whose chest bloomed with blood.

Alexei pushed Stef lightly away as he shot Nikolai. Stef’s right arm came from behind his back, and he had a gun, too. Jen watched as he aimed his gun, but his eyes lit with horror before he could pull the trigger. He stepped back as Jen felt an arm snake around her middle.

Her back was suddenly pressed to Pushkin’s chest, and his meaty arm was a manacle holding her down. He was using her as a shield. Jen squirmed, trying to do anything to get out. He hauled his weapon up and fired. Jen felt her eyes widen in horror as Stef’s left side took the bullet. His side above his waistline started to bleed.

He staggered back for a moment, but managed to stay upright, his gun level at Pushkin’s head. “Let her go.” Jen could feel the heat of Pushkin’s breath against her ear. “I don’t think that is such a good idea. I believe I will keep the girl close, or I will end up like Nikolai there.”

“And if I told you I don’t care about the girl?”

“I would not believe you. You came for the girl. That is the only reason you are here. If you were simply working with the traitor, Alexei, you would have left the same way you came in. Tell me something, do you know where my painting is?” Stef looked far too calm for a man who had just been shot. “I know enough to know you don’t give a shit about the painting.” There was a low rumble from Pushkin that might have been described as laughter had there been an ounce of humor in it. “No, I don’t care about the fucking painting. But I do want the bearer bonds behind it. Alexei, you appear unwell. Did Nikolai’s shot find purchase?”

Alexei did look a bit green. He put his hand over his gut and came away with blood. He fell to his knees. Holly scrambled from her protected position to get to him. Even with a hole in his gut, Jen noted that Alexei pushed Holly behind him, trying to cover her body with his damaged one.

“I’m glad, you bastard. I never trusted you,” Pushkin said. “There was something about you.”

Alexei’s lips struggled as he spoke. “You killed my brother. I have worked, risen in your organization, to kill you. You will die here. Whether by my hand or others, you will die today, and you will take no more innocents with you.”

Holly wept behind him, trying to get her hand on his wound.

Pushkin accepted the information as though it was a mere report of the weather and not a curse. “I did not know what was wrong about you, but I felt it better to keep you close. When I couldn’t raise Ivan, I became suspicious. That’s why I brought along another three men.

They should be here any moment. I’ve had them asking questions and looking for the painting. But, I sent the signal for them to come to me.

Soon, you and your friends will be a distant memory.” Jen heard the sound of gunfire, but this time it was from the outside of the building.

Stef’s lips quirked up. “I have friends, too. We’ll have to see who walks through that door, won’t we? Or you can give me my woman, and I’ll allow the sheriff to arrest you.” Pushkin took a deep breath, and the gun pressed to Jen’s temple.

Such a small little circle pushing against her head, and yet it could bring death in no time at all. She wouldn’t even know it had happened. Pushkin could pull the trigger and everything she was would be gone.

“I love you, Stef.” If she was going to die, those would be the last words she said, because they were true. Nothing in this world had ever been as important as loving Stefan Talbot.

His stance hardened. “Jennifer, I will get you out of this. I love you. I will not let you go. You will not go to Paris without me. You will not move into that tiny loft at Callie’s, and you will never leave Bliss.”

Even with a gun to her head, she had to smile at the royal tone he used. King Stef was in the building. “I already moved into Callie’s place.”

“Then get ready because I’m moving in. It’s going to get crowded on that twin bed, but I won’t sleep apart from you. You wanted me, well, you get me. I’m very possessive, and according to everyone in this town, I am apparently emotionally needy. I disagree, but the votes are against me. You should know I intend to love you forever, Jennifer. I intend to keep you with me or follow you when you go.”

“I won’t go, Stef, not without you,” Jen said, her heart filling up with love.

“That includes dying, Jennifer,” Stef said sternly. “You are not allowed to die on me. I will take it as extreme disobedience, and there will be some punishment.”

His voice was starting to shake, whether with emotion or pain or the combination of both, Jen wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter. They were together. It brought her great strength. There was the sound of more gunfire outside, but the reports were getting further and further apart.

“It sounds like my men will be here soon,” Pushkin said. “Now, tell me where my bonds are and I will kill you quickly. Otherwise, you will join that unfortunate deputy.”

“Yes, I’d like to kill you for that, too.” Stef snarled.

“Someone needs to do something,” Holly said, crying. “I don’t think he’s going to make it.”

Alexei’s body was still, but his lips moved. He said something to Holly, who cried out and lightly slapped his shoulder.

She looked at Jen. “He won’t move. He says I have to hide behind him. I can’t get him off me, the big idiot. He’s going to die.”

“You are all going to die,” Pushkin said.

“Not if I can help it.” Logan’s voice was ragged, and his face brutalized past recognition, but he forced his body to move. He propped himself up in the doorway of the office and took aim.

Logan’s left arm hung at an odd angle, and his right trembled, but he held the gun level despite it all. “I don’t have a shot from here, Stef.”

“You don’t need one,” Stef said. “Nate will walk through that door any minute.”

Jen slipped her hand into her jeans pocket, her fingers curling around the whittling knife. Alexei had asked Holly for a distraction, but it looked like they needed another one. With Pushkin’s eyes on Stef and Logan, he wouldn’t notice that she was squirming a bit more.

When she had the knife out, she held it at her thigh so Stef would notice.

“I tire of this,” Pushkin said. Jen could feel that he was sweating now. He was starting to panic, and that could be very bad for her.

Stef’s eyes found the knife at her side, and he nodded, letting her know he was with her.

“I’m pretty fucking tired myself,” Logan spat out.

“Jennifer, Nate is going to walk through that door,” Stef repeated, as though his surety could make it happen. “He’s going to come in here, and we’re going to be fine. I love you with all my heart. Do you trust me, Jennifer?”

She nodded, far too emotional to speak. She heard the outer doors swinging open.

“Then do it now!” Stef shouted.

Jen raised her arm and plunged the small knife into Pushkin’s leg.

It didn’t go deep, but it was enough that he howled and reached for his leg. It was enough that he let go slightly, and Jen was able to drop down.

She felt the bullets hit Pushkin’s body. He jerked behind her once, and then twice, and then again. Jen covered her head, the ringing in her ears almost painful. She made herself as small a target as possible because Stef needed her out of the way.

The sound of bullets died away as the inner door burst open, and Nathan Wright’s voice boomed through the building.

“Stand down!” Nate shouted.

“There’s no one left to stand down, Sheriff. You are late to the party,” Stef said.

Jen felt his hand on her shoulder and looked up into relieved gray eyes. She jumped up and wrapped herself around him. He was here and alive, and that was all she could ask for. Stef’s arms tightened around her body, so tight she almost couldn’t breathe, but she wouldn’t complain. She needed him close.

“I love you, Jennifer.”

“I love you, Stef. I love you so much.” Nate and several others were moving in. “Zane, call a bus.”

“Why do we need a bus?” Jen asked, trying not to look at the bodies on the floor.

“It’s cop slang, love. He’s calling in an ambulance.” Max Harper strode into the room, a shotgun in his hands. “Is everything fine now? We killed everyone we needed to? ’Cause my wife is having a baby in the middle of a diner. I wouldn’t be here except Rachel made one of us come down here to save Stef’s butt, and she was yelling really loud. I’d like to make it back to see my son.”

The doctor pushed through the double doors. He had an apron on and held his hands up as though he’d just sanitized them and didn’t want to touch anything. “Better luck next time, Harper. You just had a girl. Sorry about that. I’m not real great with sonograms. Is there anyone left alive for me to fix?”

The doctor’s face fell, and suddenly all of his bravado was gone as he saw Holly trapped under Alexei’s body.

“Holly?” He ran to get to her.

“Please, Caleb. He saved me. You have to help him.” Chaos reigned as people poured into the small building. Zane helped Logan to sit. Nate checked the bodies. Max ran out, shouting something about his son not having a penis. Stef held her close, and she seemed far away from the horrors of the day.

“Don’t ever leave me.” His voice was a mere whisper in her ear.

“Never.”

Chapter Twenty

Stef stretched slightly, trying to loosen up the tight feeling in his ribs. Jennifer turned and cocked a single eyebrow at him. He put his arm down.

“Hah!” Max said from his seat at Rachel’s bedside. He sat in what must be one of the world’s most uncomfortable chairs with a baby sleeping on his chest. “I saw that, Stef. You are just as pussy whipped as the rest of us. That is so good to know.”

“Maxwell Harper, that was rude.” Rachel threw a stare at Max that might actually peel paint off the walls.

Max clutched his daughter and nodded at his wife. “Yes, baby. It was rude. I am so sorry.” He turned back to Stef and pointed at himself. “See, we’re all the same.”

Jen chuckled beside him. “I just don’t want him to pull his stitches. He’s supposed to take me to Paris for our honeymoon.”

“Don’t you have to get married first?” Rye Harper asked as he walked in the room, followed by Callie. Both carried trays of food.

Stef reached out and grabbed a cookie. He thought it looked like one of Laura’s. She was famous for her chocolate chip cookies.

Almost everyone in Bliss had been in and out of the hospital over the last two days. They had come to coo over the new baby or offer support to Logan. They had come to sit with Holly while she held the hand of a man she barely knew, but had saved her life.

“Give them time, Rye,” Callie said, offering Rachel a sandwich.

“It takes a while to plan the kind of wedding Jen wants.” Stef turned to his fiancée. He had heard nothing about an elaborate wedding. “No Vegas, then?”

The smile on her face did funny things to his heart rate. “I suppose we could elope for some quickie wedding we’ll soon forget. Of course, the honeymoon would probably match it.” He snorted. His girl never let her opinions go unstated. It was one of the things he loved about her. If he forced her into a quickie wedding, he would get quickie sex. While he was pretty damn sure he could change her mind about that, he was an indulgent husband-to-be.

His father, on the other hand, hadn’t been willing to wait. He smiled as he thought about the fact that his father was in Vegas. He’d married Stella, and they would come back to Bliss in a week. Stella and his father would live in the manor house. Stella was finally coming home. Yes, he thought, a big wedding was just what they needed. “We’ll pull out all the stops then, love. We’ll have a wedding like this town has never seen.”

“That sounds like fun,” Rachel said, happily munching on her sandwich. She scooted up so Rye could slide in behind her. His arms wrapped around his wife as she leaned back against him. “Callie and I can help.”

Jennifer practically glowed. “You better. You’re my bridesmaids.

I need one more, though. I think I’ll ask Laura. Maybe she’ll teach me how to walk in five-inch heels.”

“Nope,” Stef said, pulling her close. God, it felt good to reach out and grab her whenever he wanted to. “I like you shorter than me.”

“Unless this wedding takes place in the next month or so, I’m going to be a whale.” Callie’s face turned down as Nate and Zane walked into the room. It was getting full fast.

“Never, babe. You’re going to be gorgeous all round and full of baby,” Zane promised, towering over his wife. Zane softened around Callie. The hard lines of his face fell away.

Stef wondered if he looked like that when he stared at his Jennifer.

He thought he probably did, but he didn’t care. She was his. She would be his always. It didn’t matter that he had to wait for the wedding. He already had another ceremony in mind. He’d talked to his friend in Dallas and had a private collaring ceremony planned.

Jennifer would never be a full-time slave, and he didn’t want that, but, oh, they would play. They would play for the rest of their lives.

“You want to see it?” Nate asked as he pulled out a file folder. In his hand was a small stack of what looked like certificates.

Stef felt his eyes go wide. He’d never seen one before, much less a stack. He ran his hand across the bonds that equaled enough money for Pushkin to kill for.

“That’s twenty million dollars?” Jen asked.

“Yes, these are untraceable security bonds. It’s a practice that dates back to the Civil War. It’s the only way to get this much money in a neat, movable pile without involving a bank. The US Federal Reserve is trying to get rid of them, but they’re still out there,” Stef replied. “From what Nate, Zane, and I have managed to figure out, this was payment for a long-lost painting Pushkin sold on the black market to a collector here in the US.”

“The Russian mob is making a fortune on black market masterpieces smuggled out of Germany during World War II. Pushkin used Renard to restore them, and then Renard acted as the middle man. He got the painting to the buyer and then smuggled the payment in bearer bonds to Russia via lesser paintings,” Nate explained.

“Hey!” Jennifer crossed her arms over her chest.

“Nathan knows nothing about art, love,” Stef said, kissing her neck. He loved the nape of her neck. It was soft and always smelled so good. He felt himself getting hard, but then he was always hard around her. “You have to discount his opinion.”

“Sorry, Jen, but he was planning on using your painting.

Apparently, he refused to ship twenty million dollars across two continents. Alexei and the dead guy were supposed to fly back with it.

They couldn’t just put it in a suitcase because airport security does random checks. This was the way he’d found to work it. He just hadn’t counted on you changing the paintings.”

“And that’s why he had me arrested.” Jen put two and two together. “He panicked. He had me arrested so he could search my place and take the bonds back.”

Stef knew what had happened. Renard had waited too long. “But I got there before he could. The minute I heard she’d been arrested, I had people at her place, packing her up to get her back to Bliss. Nate and I were there just a couple of hours later. Renard tried to be clever.”

He didn’t like to think about what could have happened to her. He was damn grateful Renard had chosen the path he had. He could have just killed her and taken the untraceable bonds the mob required as payment.

“It’s all right,” Jen said, as though sensing his thoughts. Her hand came up and smoothed across his cheek. “Everything is fine now.”

“The feds are coming for Alexei tonight.” Nate leaned against the wall. The long hours he’d put in the last few days showed on his face.

Callie reached for his hand, and he pulled it up to his heart. The three of them were connected and content to be so. “They’ll take the bonds into evidence and clean out our makeshift morgue. Is our doctor staying, or did we run him off with our latest clusterfuck?” Max’s eyes came open, and he put a hand over his sleeping daughter’s head. “Will you watch your language, Sheriff? There is a child in the room.”

“Sorry. After the way I heard she came into the world, I didn’t suspect she would have delicate ears,” Nate shot back.

Rachel wasn’t at all embarrassed. “I did cuss a blue streak.”

“And threatened grievous bodily injury on me and Max,” Rye added.

“Well, I was in a touch of pain. But the next one, I doubt I’ll even go to the hospital. I’ll probably just squat, have the baby, and then get back to work. I’m like a pioneer woman. I don’t need a hospital. I’m only here because Caleb made me.”

Rye and Max had both gone sheet white. “Don’t you even think about it, Rachel Harper,” Rye said.

“You’re going into the hospital the minute you get pregnant. I won’t have our next baby born in Stella’s,” Max said, patting the baby’s back. “My poor little princess.”

“I see Max got over the shock of having a daughter.” Jen chuckled as she watched the huge badass man with a tiny baby girl.

“No, he hasn’t,” Rachel said with a sigh. “He’s just moved on to paranoia mode. He’s talking about setting up a defensive perimeter around our place.”

Max gestured toward his daughter. “Well, look at her. She’s gorgeous. Men are going to come sniffing after her, and I have to be prepared to kill them all.”

Callie was grinning at the sight, too. “Wouldn’t it be great if we had a boy and he and little Paige Stephanie got married?”

“That is not going to happen, Cal,” Max shot back. “Paige is going to be a nun.”

“We aren’t Catholic, Max.” Rachel turned to look at her more reasonable husband. “Tell him, Rye.”

“Max and I talked it over, baby. We’re converting. Paige is definitely going to a nunnery.”

Rachel shook her head and sighed. “And, I don’t think we can scare Caleb off. He’s too interested in a certain someone to leave.” Stef thought about the way Caleb had saved Alexei. His efforts had been heroic. He simply wouldn’t give up on the big Russian.

Alexei was alive because Caleb had willed it so. Stef had a bad feeling that Caleb might rue the day. Alexei seemed crazy about Holly, and Holly was obviously grateful, if not simply interested in him. Alexei had a long road to walk, though. He might be in prison.

Stef had promised to do what he could to help. He owed the man his and Jennifer’s lives. Alexei would go with the feds and answer their questions, but Stef would try to make sure the man didn’t spend the rest of his life in prison. If he wanted to go home, Stef would try to get him there. If he wanted to come back to Bliss, well, there was always room for one more.

“I’m glad the doc is staying. But Callie needs to beware. Don’t let Doc do a sonogram,” Max complained. “He can’t tell the difference between girl parts and boy parts.”

“And how is Logan?” Rachel asked, changing the subject.

“Healing,” Stef said carefully. Logan’s body was starting the process, but Stef didn’t like where his head was at. He’d been silent and sullen and utterly unlike Logan. He hadn’t flirted with the nurses.

He’d sat in his bed, and Stef could see he was building a wall around himself, letting no one, not even his moms, inside. Zane had tried to talk to him, but he’d been rebuffed. Stef would have to keep an eye on him.

King Stef. He was doing it again, but now he didn’t feel bad about it. Jennifer could tease him all she liked, but he was the King of Bliss in some ways. What he’d come to realize was that he hadn’t earned the title by throwing money around. He’d earned it by loving this town and all of her citizens. He loved them even when it was hard. He would love them until the day he died, right here in Bliss.

“I’ll make sure he has a nurse on call when they’re ready to release him. And Nate, don’t forget to have Hope file his paperwork.

Anything he needs outside of what the county can pay for, just send me the bill.”

Jennifer turned her face up, and he knew what she was going to say. “You really are good, King Stefan.”

“And I’ll be even better with a queen at my side.”

“Forever,” Jennifer said, going up on her toes for a quick kiss. “I think I’ll like being queen.”

“So, let’s plan a wedding!” Rachel said with a happy smile on her face.

Jen joined her friends and started planning the biggest day of his life. He would have his father at his side, and the woman who was his true mother would be there, too. He would have his family and all of Bliss.

The women planned, the baby slept, and the men talked about the events of the day. Stef sat back and watched, utterly content.

All was right in his kingdom.

Content

One to Keep
Nights in Bliss, Colorado - 3
Sophie Oak

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty