Cherise Sinclair - This is who I am

“I do wish I could take them on for you, but I’m glad I could help.” He rose and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go get us some food.”

He guided her through the kitchen door to a screen-caged pool-and-patio area. Linda took a deep breath of the warm, flower-scented air.

Beth and Gabi sat at the large marble-topped table. Beside Beth, Nolan was drinking a beer and watching a giant inflatable swan that floated in the pool.

Marcus pulled out a chair for Linda and seated himself beside Gabi. “The food looks good, sugar,” he said. “Best you eat up, since you’ll need energy for tonight.”

Gabi grinned. “Yes, Sir.” She glanced up at the sky where clouds were filming over the blue. “I was hoping Master Z would open the Capture Gardens, but doesn’t look like that’ll happen.”

Nolan shook his head. “Forecast is for rain and wind starting around sunset.”

“Well, damn.” Gabi wrinkled her nose. “So what are we going to do?”

Marcus gave her long, slow stare. “I might could figure something out that’ll keep you occupied.” The lazy power in his voice gave Linda a twinge—made her wish for Sam.

“I just bet you could.” Gabi leaned against his arm and gave him a look of such trust that Linda’s heart squeezed.

Marcus jerked his chin up at Nolan. “You’re not working today.”

“No point in being boss if I can’t take a day off now and then,” the rough contractor said, and his grin flashed briefly. “Never thought I’d have more time off than a fancy lawyer.”

“That just doesn’t seem right, does it?” Marcus snagged himself one of the sandwiches.

Beth frowned. “He took the time off because I have a landscaping job downtown, and he won’t let me be there without him.”

“Not with that half-pint crew of yours.” Nolan looked at Marcus. “Dan told me about those murdered prostitutes. Not comfortable with her being near downtown.”

“Probably wise,” Marcus agreed.

Linda frowned. The papers had reported something about the murderer. Sounded bad.

“Is the district attorney’s office getting any information?” Nolan asked.

Marcus’s jaw tightened. Linda had never seen him so grim. “Not much evidence left behind. The murderer overpowers the victims and ties them up—far too competently. Then he takes his time. The deaths are ugly.”

Gabi gave Marcus a concerned look, then scowled at Nolan. “No business at mealtime.”

He glanced at Marcus. “Got a gag in the truck if you need one.”

Marcus’s expression cleared, and he grinned. “Loan it to me tonight.”

“You got it.” Nolan ignored Gabi’s glare and gave Linda an evaluating look. “Anything happen last night?”

Why did he ask that? Had he seen her and Sam in the office room? Her cheeks turned warm, and then she realized he was talking about the spotter. Way to have your mind in the gutter. “No interesting voices,” she said lightly.

“That’s a nice color you got there, darlin’,” Marcus said. “Got yourself up to something else last night?”

“I heard Master Sam was in charge of the trainees last night.” Beth pointed at Linda with a carrot stick. “And you’re a trainee now, right?”

“Sam did supervise us, yes,” Linda said primly. Ignoring the laughter, she concentrated on choosing a sandwich. To her relief, the conversation moved on to discussing the high schoolers Beth hired part-time.

As she relaxed back into her chair, Gabi leaned over. “Are you and Sam back together then?” she whispered.

Linda had a feeling she was glowing. After he’d put her in his bed, he’d been…well, Sam, but with a disconcerting new sweetness. It was as if trying to say the words was so difficult that he’d wanted to show her instead.

When she let out a happy sigh, Gabi echoed it. “I’m glad for you…although he scares me a little.”

“Really?” Odd, but that had never been a problem. Well, except for when he deliberately got her anxious, and he was damn good at that. But even then, she felt safe with him.

“Will you be at the Shadowlands tonight?” Nolan asked her.

She lifted her chin, despite the chill that climbed up her spine and made her shiver. “I’ll be listening all night.”

* * *

Sam stood beside his daughter, looking at the new stable.

“Looks good,” Nicole said, hands in her jeans pockets. “Will you breed Galadriel this year?”

“Yep.” Sam glanced down at his girl. Prettiest sight in the world. Smart and sweet and talented. Z’s words came back to him. “How about your daughter? Do you discuss your worries about the farm? Or tell her what she means to you?”

Linda needed those words. Did Nicole? “You doing all right in school?”

“Oh, sure,” she said. “All A’s except for chemistry.” She scowled. “Like I’m ever going to want to dump a bunch of chemicals together in my future career.”

Sam grinned, then tried a harder question. “Do you ever miss your mom?”

She gave him a startled look and bent to pet Connagher. After a second of sending the dog into happy wiggles, she answered, head still bent. “Kinda. Not her. Not how she is. But I wish…I wish she’d been… I wish I’d had a mom. She never was.”

He ached for the sadness in her voice. Felt like hell that he hadn’t done a better job, hadn’t been able to divorce the woman and get sole custody much, much earlier. “I’m sorry, baby.”

She shook her head and started to walk, his girl’s usual response to being upset. Walk somewhere—anywhere. When she was a teen, she’d disappear completely. One of the reasons he’d trained Conn to find her.

He fell into step as she headed for the pond.

“It’s not your fault. Hell, you did a lot—more than I realized—at keeping her from messing up my life.” She kicked some gravel into the bushes. “Some of my friends had it worse. Like if your mom does drugs, but your dad isn’t there to defend you. You were always there, Daddy.”

He felt some of the tightness in his shoulders ease. He hadn’t totally messed up. He had a momentary thought of how easily Linda would take to mothering his girl; she wouldn’t even know she was doing it. Caring was just part of who his woman was.

His woman. Yeah.

But he had his own battles still to fight, and damn, it came hard. “I’m proud of you, Nicole.”

The startled glance she gave him sent his gut to clenching. Yeah, he’d screwed up badly, that she hadn’t heard that from him before. The path was before him. Did he have the guts to continue?

“Got out of the habit of saying anything,” he muttered.

She gave him an understanding nod. “Mother.”

“But I—” The words stuck in his throat again. Too many times his ex had begged for him to say he loved her. He’d done so at first but had stopped when the words were such a lie that he couldn’t force them out. Z had been right, damn him.

But Sam wasn’t a coward. “Love you, baby.” The words came out rough.

The way she threw herself in his arms said she’d understood them anyway.

Linda walked through the Shadowlands feeling as if she’d entered a Halloween horror house. Every nerve jangled in fear that something would jump out at her.

The Feds weren’t present. Cullen said the FBI agents had flown to New York. One of the Harvest Association’s “warehouses” had been found.

Even worse, Sam wasn’t there to relieve her fears. Master Z had inspected the trainees for him and said he had problems at the farm. She hadn’t realized how much safer she’d felt with him around. Tonight she felt far, far too alone.

Her head tilted at the snap of a whip. Due to the storm warnings, the attendance was down. Master Z had given the Doms a treat and rearranged equipment to clear two huge spaces for the whip aficionados.

In a roped-off area, Raoul was using a long single-tail on Kim. Having seen the damage a whip could inflict, Linda could only stare as the end flicked lightly over Kim’s back, over and over, never leaving a mark.

Kim was giggling so hard that her Master snorted, then made the whip crack over his head before swirling it back to snap on Kim’s butt. This time it was hard enough to make her jump. And giggle some more.

Linda shook her head. Who would have thought the ex-slave would have fun when her Master used a whip? The cracking sound still made Linda freeze.

Beth came up beside Linda and wrapped an arm around her waist. “He never goes much harder than that, at least not with the whip,” she whispered. “Kim enjoys a sexy flogging and even a paddle, but not the whip. He gave her a few stripes when he collared her, and it was so beautiful.” Beth sighed. “She proved she trusted him to give her pain, that their relationship and her submission meant enough that she’d risk her worst fears. He proved to her he could hurt her without going crazy and slicing her to pieces.”

Linda realized Jessica was on her other side. “Yeah. Raoul loves playing with that whip. The first few times, Kim was stiff and scared, but…look at her. She’s going to earn herself a few lines just because she won’t shut up.”

Raoul walked over and redid the ankle straps, widening Kim’s legs. She couldn’t wiggle anymore, and her pussy was…awfully exposed.

Linda bit her lip, remembering how Sam had caned her, moving up her inner thigh to hit her labia. What would Raoul do? “Is he going to get mad at her?”

Jessica shook her head. “Watch.”

Kim sassed him again. Linda realized he’d moved so Kim couldn’t see his flashing grin, and his stern voice didn’t convey his amusement. “Chiquita, you are begging me for some pain, yes?”

Raoul had a great voice, Linda thought. Smooth and deep and with that tiny accent.

But she preferred gravel. Harsh with an edge of mean sometimes.

Raoul’s next lash made Kim squeak but left only a tiny pink mark.

“Damn, he’s good,” Linda whispered.

“So’s Sam.” Beth squeezed her hand. “He and Raoul were showing off out at Cullen’s once. I couldn’t figure out which one was better.” She shook her head. “I still don’t like whips.”

Linda shivered, remembering the first time Sam had whipped her. It had been at the auction with some triangular leather thing called a dragon’s tongue. He’d sure known what he was doing with that. Then again, he also seemed just fine with big and little canes. And his hand. Linda swallowed, feeling heat wash through her. Darn the man, just thinking about him got her all hot and bothered.

As a gust of wind rattled the windows, rain hit the glass panes like a drumroll. The storm was picking up.

“God, I’m glad I don’t have to drive in this stuff.” Jessica glanced at Linda. “Z’s going to keep the place open all night and let people sleep in the second-floor rooms if they want. But if…ah…you don’t want company, you can use our guest bedroom.”

Company. Linda’s lips curved. She kind of liked that room they’d used on the second floor so long ago. “I think I’ll be fine.” You got it bad, girl. “Where’s your man?” she asked Beth.

Beth turned toward the bar. Although Nolan was talking with Cullen, his gaze never left Beth for more than a second.

“He really keeps an eye on you.”

Beth grinned. “He says I disappeared on him once and it’s not going to happen again.” She deepened her voice. “‘Not on my watch.’”

“Sheesh, I’m surprised he let you come.”

Beth glanced at Jessica. “All the Masters showed up tonight. Because.”

Because of Linda and her hunt. Some of her fear ebbed.

Jessica put her arm around Linda. “We’re here for you too.”

When Linda grinned—the little blonde was all of five feet two and didn’t look as if she could down a fly—Jessica sniffed. “I’m not going to attack anyone. Our job is just to keep an eye on you. The guys can’t follow you around, but no one notices us subs.”

Oh. “Thank you,” Linda whispered, warmth spreading through her. She glanced over at the bar, caught the bartender’s frown, and winced. “I need to get to work. Master Cullen looks like he’s going to have a hot-guy hissy fit.”

To the sound of laughter, Linda headed for her assigned area.

As time went on, she checked on drinks and took orders and listened. Nothing. Nothing. And more nothing.

Exasperated, she returned to the bar with her drink orders, then had to wait for Cullen.

The giant bartender was whistling along with the music as he poured a glass of wine for a Domme. Finally he wandered down to her. “Got some orders for me, pet?” he asked, leaning a forearm on the bar top.