Geoffrey smiled. “I think you were in Afghanistan when we were engaged.” He lifted a hand and strode out.

She stared after him and then remembered Jake.

Eyes narrowed, he was studying her.

Her defensiveness flared. Swiveling her chair around, she faced the computer monitor. “The dog is on your schedule. I’ll check him in.”

He walked behind the counter and planted a hip on the desktop. Did the man have no concept of personal space?

“Engaged? So…how long did you and Geoff date?” His voice remained quiet enough that the clients in the waiting room wouldn’t hear.

She gave an indifferent shrug. “I don’t know”—six months and twelve days—”half a year, maybe.”

“Quite a while. What happened to break you up?”

The surge of hurt made her eyes prickle. “That’s not your business.” She raised her chin. “You’re my boss, not my Dom.”

His intent gaze held the warmth of the sun. “I’m both. Seems like Geoff’s into inertia, so I’d say if he stayed with you that long, something else derailed him. What happened, Rainie?”

The determined set of his mouth said he’d sit on her desk until she answered him—she’d seen the same determination when he’d pulled a massive St. Bernard out of a room. The dog’s tail had whipped up under its belly as it had given in to the superior force that was Master Jake.

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She gave in, too. “His family happened.”

“Ah.” Jake’s smile flickered ruefully. “Status conscious. Appearance conscious. Shallow as a Disney cartoon.”

“Mmm.” His assessment was dead on. He didn’t sound impressed with Geoffrey’s family, as if they weren’t worthy of his regard. She cleared her throat. With his family, Geoffrey’d been ashamed of knowing Rainie, acting like a cat trying to cover his waste. “Our relationship ended the day I met them.”

She stared at her keyboard and willed Jake to leave.

His callused hand settled on her wrist, the warmth calming. “I see your hurt, baby. Still…knowing you both, I’d say you can find a better fit.”

Right. Too bad for her that she wanted a gentleman Dom. The chances were slim that she’d find a gentleman who wouldn’t mind that his woman was raised in the slums, in foster homes, and on the streets. Bitterness tasted foul on her tongue.

She shut her thoughts down and brought up the next bill on her computer. “I’m busy, Dr. Sheffield.”

“Of course.” Jake’s light touch on her hair felt like a caress. “We’ll discuss this some other time.”

“I’ll just pencil that little talk into the appointments.” Not a problem. There should be an hour or two free on the day after the apocalypse. What year would that be?

* * * *

On Thursday, Rainie emerged from the dressing room in the bridal store, happily re-attired in jeans, sandals, and a peasant blouse. “No more bridesmaid dress fittings. Yay!” She danced across the floor to Gabi and Kim, who waited by the wall of mirrors.

Her two friends laughed.

“Gabi, thank you—and Sally—for picking a gown that’s gorgeous on me.” The clinging halter top and flowing skirt had totally made the most of her assets. “Made me feel like Cinderella at the ball.”

Gabi beamed. “That’s how I feel in my wedding dress. And we loved finding the perfect style for each of you. You should have seen the over-frilled frumpy rag I got stuck wearing in college.” Gagging sounds ensued. “Thank God for the same-color, different-styles trend.”

“I love my dress—and the deep blue color too.” Kim patted Gabi’s hand. Her bridesmaid gown would be a skin-tight sheath which displayed her perfect figure.

As Rainie took a chair near her friends, Kim asked Gabi, “By the way, did Master Z mandate a theme for this weekend?”

“I didn’t check since”—Gabi scowled—”my beloved has said no Shadowlands this week. Marcus wants a little ‘anticipation’ for the honeymoon which means, starting Saturday, no sex either.”

“Oh my God.” Kim snickered. “He’ll be so horny, he’ll drag you out of the reception after one dance.”

“He won’t be the one dragging,” Gabi said grumpily.

“What about you, Rainie? Do you know the theme?” Kim asked. “I’m in a dress-up mood.”

“I didn’t check either. I’m taking a hiatus from the club.” When the other two stared at her, she moved her shoulders. “Jake and Saxon are my bosses at the clinic. Interacting with them at the Shadowlands would be…too much.”

“Huh, I get how you might feel awkward.” Gabi tilted her head. “But—”

“Here I come!” With the laughing announcement, Andrea popped out of a dressing room and strode toward the mirrors, the seamstress scurrying behind her like a mouse after a big cat. “Well? What do you think?” Her strapless gown exposed her beautiful muscular shoulders and golden tan.

“Wow.” Kim clapped her hands. “You look fantastic. Like the Amazon Cullen is always calling you.”

“Wonder Woman,” Rainie said. “Girl, you’ve totally got to wear golden bracelets—you know, the bulletproof ones.”

Gabi waggled her eyebrows. “Just be careful about wearing a Lasso of Truth. Cullen’s liable to use it on you.”

“He-he wouldn’t bother.” Andrea’s golden-brown eyes filled with tears.

Gabi jumped to her feet and wrapped her arms around the taller woman. “What’s wrong, girlfriend? Has he been mean to you?”

Cullen mean? Rainie knit her brow. Strict, maybe, but the giant Dom didn’t have a cruel bone in his body.

Andrea shook her head. “No. It’s…” Her breath hitched in a sob. The little seamstress bobbed in to hand her a handful of tissues, and Andrea wiped her face. “I’m being an idiot. It’s just”—she peered at the wedding dress displays—”I want to get married. I’m ready.”

“Well, finally,” Kim said, smiling.

Rainie understood the lure of a wedding and having someone to spend a lifetime with, to trust and hold. “But, why the tears? Mast—um, Cullen has been proposing to you forever.”

“He stopped.” Andrea’s eyes filled again. “He gave up on me. Or maybe he changed his mind.”

“Fat chance,” Kim said. “He adores you.”

Gabi took a tissue and patted the tears from Andrea’s cheeks. “He really does. He’ll ask again.” Her mouth set in a stern line. “You’d better say ‘yes’ next time, or I’ll wallop you.”

“Oooh, threat,” Rainie cooed. “I’m getting all excited. Where’s my flogger?”

The seamstress’s mouth dropped open, and she backpedaled. “I think everything fits fine. Bring the dress upfront when you’re done.” Face a bright pink, she scurried toward the front of the room.

“Oops,” Rainie whispered, sending the others into giggles.

When Andrea disappeared to change, Gabi dropped into a chair with a sigh and scrubbed her hands over her face.

Rainie exchanged glances with Kim and said, “Gabi, Andrea will be fine.”

Kim added, “I’m not so sure about you. Is something wrong? Are your parents causing trouble?”

“No.” Gabi grimaced. “Not really…aside from constantly adding more guests and demanding fancier food. But since they’re not paying for the reception, they lack any leverage.”

“So…?” Rainie prompted.

Gabi scowled. “They’re unhappy about the ‘double’ wedding and about a ménage being included, so they’re really cold to Sally. And worse, Galen’s mom is just plain nasty and constantly criticizing Sally. “

Kim winced. “Sally’s pretty vulnerable to parental disapproval.”

“Yeah.” Gabi slumped in the chair. “No one is openly rude. Sally—and I—could fight that—or the guys would. But Galen and Vance are out of town, and Sally won’t rock Galen’s relationship with his mother, so she hasn’t told her guys anything. And, dammit, I figure it’s her decision to make. Only I’m so frustrated.”

“I don’t agree since—” Rainie bit back the words. How would she react if someone interfered in her relationship with a lover? “No, I’m wrong. It’s not your choice. But ugh, just imagine—Sally’ll have to celebrate holidays with that woman.” Galen’s mother was the coldest person Rainie’d ever met. One glare from her and mice would flee a cozy heated building in the dead of winter.

Kim nodded glumly. “Guess we’ll just have to shield Sally.”

“As much as we can.” Gabi scowled. “Just because Sally wasn’t born to some rich East Coast family, Mrs. Kouros thinks she’s not good enough for Galen.”

Rainie’s anger at the unfairness was slowly undermined by her dismay…and depression. Sally’s handicap was merely from growing up on a small Iowa farm. What if Mrs. Kouros faced a slum-raised daughter-in-law like Rainie? The woman would go off the rails entirely.




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