Theirs to Cherish

Chapter Twenty-one





THORPE stared out the window overlooking Dominion’s dungeon at the Friday night crowd diving into their play with gusto. With a critical eye, he surveyed the stations, the dungeon monitors making the rounds, the mood on the floor.


Satisfied everything was well under control, he locked up his observation room and headed downstairs into the secure area of the building. With a silent sigh, he returned to his apartment in the back and flipped on the TV, grabbing a fresh bottle of water. He should probably remove his suit, take a shower, and try to get some sleep.

Every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was Callie’s face, her sparkling eyes, her lush mouth. Her “I love yous” echoed in his head.

Exhaustion weighed on him. He’d tried to resume a normal life since returning to Dominion. But the lump in his throat when he thought of her never quite went away. His eyes constantly stung. For the last three weeks, he’d been wracked with a vague but constant pain that debilitated his whole body.

Not surprising when he felt as if half of himself was missing.

Thorpe took a sip of water and tried to force the liquid down to drown the ache. That didn’t work. That persistent tightness in his chest constricted even more. Why the f*ck couldn’t he take a deep breath?

Easing down into an overstuffed chair, he cued up his DVR. A mountain of news programs took up all the space on the device. He chose the most recent show, one he’d taped yesterday. The one that torqued his pain the most. Thorpe had never considered himself a masochist, but apparently he’d been wrong. He’d already watched this show half a dozen times.

The host introduced himself and vomited at the mouth about a bunch of political shit Thorpe couldn’t care less about. He had several windbag guests he called pundits, each less significant than the last. They shouted at one another, full of self-importance. Thorpe stifled his impatience as he fast-forwarded past it all and finally arrived at the segment he sought.

“My next guest is all over the news. Her story of survival and vindication is the talk of the networks, water coolers, and Twitterverse. She’s gracing the cover of next week’s People with her incredible tale. And I’m sure that’s just the beginning for the beautiful Callindra Howe. Welcome.”

The camera panned over to her. Thorpe hadn’t thought it possible, but she looked even more beautiful than he remembered. Her eyes were magnetically blue. Her hair hung in touchable, inky waves. Her red lips curled up in a gracious smile. She almost looked happy. Someone who didn’t know her would believe that she was. But Thorpe understood her too well not to see the sadness that haunted her eyes.

F*ck, his chest tightened again. He drank more water, but the feeling just wouldn’t go away.

“Thank you for having me on the show.” Callie’s smile widened as she poised herself for the first question.

“The last few weeks have been insane for you.”

“That’s an understatement.” She laughed softly. “It’s been a whirlwind, but I’m satisfied now that most of the saga is finally over.”

“Indeed.” The geezer, who was a reputed letch, patted her hand, and Thorpe wanted to reach through the TV and rip his nuts off. “Let’s take a look.”

Footage rolled, showing a montage of the events—the murders, her years on the run. Next, the voiceover mentioned her time at Dominion. This was exactly why every time Thorpe left the building, he had to wade through a small sea of reporters. He’d called the police more than once to get them off his property because they were blocking members from entering the club’s door. Idiots.

Then the clip went on to discuss him and Sean, crediting them with saving her from “dangerous mercenaries” the FBI was still trying to identify. Finally, they played a snippet of her first interview in Las Vegas. Callie looked tired and pale, but somehow glorious. No, complete. She didn’t look like that now.

That had to be an illusion. Or wishful thinking on his part. She still wore Sean’s collar because she loved him. The fed would always give her everything she needed and more.

In time, Thorpe knew he’d be an afterthought. If he wasn’t already.

“Wow, that’s an amazing decade,” the host said. “You’ve survived a great deal. The FBI is still seeking the people who wanted you dead. Any update?”

“No, but I’m sure they’re hard at work.”

“What’s it like to have so many people believe for years that you killed your family?”

Callie seemed to collect her words. “Crushing. I loved my family. I was prepared to leave them at sixteen, but I never anticipated not seeing them again. To have them gone so suddenly and violently, then hear that the police—along with public opinion—considered me a suspect was devastating. I had a lot of years when it felt like me against the world, but I’m happy that chapter of my life is over.”

“And now you’ve been completely exonerated?”

“Thankfully, yes.”

“I heard there’s a book deal in the works. And a TV movie. What can you tell us?”

“Nothing is final yet. We’ll see if it works out. In the meantime, I’ve been busy cleaning out my childhood home, deciding if I want to sell it. I’m also getting my affairs in order and moving on with my life.”

“It’s rumored you’re giving several million dollars of the fortune you’ve inherited to charity,” the host said.

“I am. I’ve actually started the Cecilia Howe Foundation for Cancer Research. All tests and experiments will be conducted according to the highest standards. No genetic trials will ever be performed. The foundation will be dedicated to curing cancer that affects women, especially ovarian cancer.”

“Which your mother died of?”

“Yes.”

“You’re also continuing your father’s scholarship and changing its name to the Daniel A. Howe Fund?”

She smiled. “The brightest young minds in American business should have the means to attend college. It’s something my father was passionate about. I will always mourn his loss, and that of my sister, but I feel this is a good way to honor him and continue his legacy.”

“You’ve also donated your mother’s Imperial Fabergé egg to the Smithsonian.”

“It’s fitting. She loved to look at it. I know she’d be proud to have it seen by millions of enthralled people every year.”

“Rumor has you romantically linked with Agent Mackenzie. Any comment?”

She blushed, unconsciously fingering the pretty bit of bling around her neck. “He’s a wonderful man, and I’m very lucky.”

“He’ll be joining us shortly, and we’ll get his side of the story. But Mitchell Thorpe is an enigma. He’s declined all interviews and seemingly isn’t interested in the spotlight.”

The fondness shining in her eyes was apparent. That all-over mystery pain punched him again. “He’s a very private man with a very big heart.”

Thorpe’s pectorals felt so damn taut. His heart stuttered. He struggled to breathe . . . but he feared how much it would hurt if he did.

“Have you spoken to him since you left Las Vegas?” the host asked.

Her smile faltered. “No, but he knows how grateful I am to him for all the years of protection and care he gave me. I love him and I always will.”

He gripped the arm of his chair until his knuckles turned white. His chest seized up, constricting again. Thorpe wondered if he was having a heart attack.

Motherf*cking son of a bitch.

He stopped playing the show, shut off the TV, and tossed the remote onto the nearby table. He glanced longingly at a bottle of scotch in the corner, then looked away. He’d gotten completely shitfaced his first night back at Dominion. Everything he’d been avoiding before the first sip was still there the following morning, along with a devil of a hangover.

He’d walked away from Callie and he knew the reasons why. But damn it, when she said she loved him for all the world to hear . . . How much more proof did he need that she wasn’t like Nara? Or Melissa? And his father had been so f*cking wrong. Perverts were capable of more than sex. He knew it now because he loved Callie more than life. How could he be worthy of her if he didn’t try? He’d left her to avoid the pain of losing her, but it already hurt so bad he could barely breathe without aching.

Thorpe dragged in a lungful of air, and yes, there it was. The agony he’d been dodging, crushing him down like the weight of a steamroller. Every joint ached worse. Every muscle twinged in pain. He felt at least a hundred f*cking years old. And hollow on the inside. He missed her so much.

Gulping water now, trying to wash away the thoughts, he wondered if he’d ever feel like smiling again. Or even like simply breathing. He didn’t expect love or happiness. He’d given any hope of that away.

F*ck, that scotch really looked good.

A sharp rap sounded on the door, and he clambered to his feet. “Who the hell is it?”

“Axel.”

Which meant there was a problem on the floor. He cursed. But wouldn’t solving someone else’s problem take his mind off his own? He’d operated that way for twenty years. And maybe, if he was really lucky, he’d get to help Axel crack some skulls.

Aggression sounded nice about now.

Thorpe yanked the door open. Axel plowed in—along with a host of other familiar faces. Logan and Hunter Edgington, Xander and Javier Santiago, Tyler Murphy, Deke Trenton, and his business partner, the infamous Jack Cole.


He knew exactly why they’d come. And it pissed him off.

“Is there some all-male gangbang I haven’t heard about? You boys will have to play without me. I’m not interested.”

Logan looked insulted. “We are not here to f*ck your ass, dude.”

“Just your mind,” Jack quipped.

Self-controlled son of a bitch. Jack was happily married with a young son. What did he understand about this situation? Any of them, really? They were all settled. Well, except Axel, and that guy had layers of shit, so his head of security better not be up in his grill.

“Still not interested.” Thorpe opened the door wider and gestured them all back into the hall.

Tyler scoffed. “Nice try. Avoidance didn’t help me when I wanted to worm out of the intervention the wives all sprung on me before Delaney. Damn if they weren’t right, too. So I think you should shut the f*ck up and listen.”

“Yeah,” Deke piped in. “My cousin Luc had to give me some tough love before I was smart enough to get over myself and marry Kimber. It’s a valuable mental ass kicking every guy should have. Good times . . .” He looked down the hall and frowned. “Speak of the devil.”

Deke stepped aside for Luc Traverson to enter, who held a plate that on any other day would look and smell divine. Since returning to Dominion, everything had tasted like dog shit.

“Thank you, but I’m not hungry,” Thorpe said politely.

As if he hadn’t spoken, Luc shoved the plate in his hands and shut the door to Thorpe’s living quarters behind him. “I hunted down what passes for a kitchen here and reheated a veritable masterpiece just for you. Axel said you haven’t eaten a whole meal since you returned.”

The platter under his nose held some sort of veal dish with a red wine sauce, roasted sweet potatoes, and glazed carrots. In a restaurant, this dish would be at least fifty bucks, probably more because Traverson made it.

Thorpe’s stomach revolted. “I’ve already eaten.”

“I hate it when people lie.” Hunter stepped up and took the plate, carrying it to Thorpe’s little bistro table in the corner. “Sit down and eat.”

The older Edgington brother may have been a SEAL, but Thorpe didn’t need for anyone to Dom the Dom. “I believe I’ve spoken. You don’t come into my house and tell me what to do.”

Logan gave him a shove toward his brother and the plate. “We will for your own good because we’ve all been there. Don’t be a p-ssy. You said a lot of things I needed to hear before I won Tara back. Now you’re going to listen.”

Xander stood beside him with his arms crossed over his chest, his charcoal suit perfectly pressed. Javier had chosen something navy, but the pose was a dead ringer for his younger brother’s. They both looked gravely serious.

“I’ll have to echo Logan,” Xander said. “Man up. Listening won’t hurt. Much.”

“I don’t need advice. Thank you for the effort.” Thorpe gritted his teeth. “I’m fine.”

“You can dish out the good advice but you can’t take it?” Javier challenged with a look that tried to shame him.

Thorpe snapped.

“I don’t need advice about anything. I’m goddamn fine! I’m better than f*cking fine. Never been happier. Leave me the hell alone!”

The moment he lost control, he wanted to kick his own ass. He had to get his shit under wraps or he’d give in to that nagging urge he’d been fighting to call Sean and ask if there was any way he could take back every f*cking word of good-bye and join them. Callie deserved better than him.

Thorpe drew in a shuddering breath, forcing a lid back onto his temper.

Tyler shoved him in the chair. “What a bunch of BS. F*cking eat something.”

Hunter held him down and shoved a fork in his hand. “As I said, I don’t like liars. You’re in love with Callie.”

“She is Sean Mackenzie’s collared submissive.” Thorpe pressed his lips tightly together. And he was just waiting for the day he heard about their engagement. It was coming, he knew.

“Are you trying to bullshit me that you’re not in love with her?” Logan scoffed.

“I’m simply stating that she no longer lives here and is no longer available.” He didn’t admit that it was killing him. They didn’t need more ammunition when they were already so close to the bull’s-eye.

“Don’t give me that fa?ade like everything is fine except for the stick up your ass and the ax in your heart,” Axel complained. “You’re so heavy these days, you’re like a black hole, sucking the life out of yourself and everyone around you. I’ve seen you turn down no less than a dozen subs you’ve played with in the past. If you’re not going to do something about the fact that you love Callie, at least get laid. Dena has been asking about you. I can call her to come release some of the pressure in your valve, man.”

The thought of touching any of the women who had come to him and knelt and offered themselves . . . Thorpe hadn’t thought it was possible, but the food smelled even worse. His stomach turned over. He pushed the plate away and stood.

“Callie loves you,” Luc said. “She’s stated that on TV repeatedly. If there’s anyone who knows what it’s like to be in denial about his feelings, it’s me. I’m lucky Alyssa wanted me enough to put up with my shit. You want to look up tomorrow and find that Callie has moved on?”

She already had. How did these stupid f*ckers not see it? “If you look in her room, you’ll find she’s not there. You will find her with Sean Mackenzie, where I’m sure he’s making her very happy, which is what she deserves, so get off my f*cking back!”

Thorpe winced. There he went, losing control again. Son of a bitch, he needed to get himself wired up tight enough to get them out of here. Then maybe he could gather the pieces of himself and move on. He held in a snort. Like that’s going to happen.

“Here’s the deal,” Jack began, pacing up to him with a swagger that put Thorpe on edge. “Tell me you don’t love this girl. Make me believe it, and we’ll go.”

Four words. All he had to do was say “I don’t love her,” and this goddamn torture would be over. It should be simple. Open his mouth, let shit come out, end the pain.

Thorpe quickly realized that if he couldn’t admit out loud that he loved Callie, he also couldn’t say that he didn’t love her. It was a betrayal of everything he felt, and he refused to do it.

Logan was right. When had he become a p-ssy? These men told their wives that they loved them every single day. They were still standing and whole. Blissfully f*cking happy even. If all he had to do to hold Callie again was tell her that he loved her, would that really be so hard? If love bettered a man, why couldn’t it heal him enough to make him good for her?

He sat again and hung his head, feeling a shudder work up in his chest, the lump tighten in his throat. But now was the lightest it had felt since leaving Vegas . . . and Callie. “I love her and I sent her away.”

“Do you regret it?” Deke asked.

“I’m too old for her. I’m too rough for her. I’m too . . .” Bottled up for her.

“She doesn’t see it that way, I’m guessing,” Logan said.

“And that isn’t what Deke asked,” Hunter reminded. “Do you regret it?”

“Yes.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. It was too long, but he just hadn’t found the energy to have it cut. Or to give a shit about it. “I regretted it instantly.”

The door to his apartment opened again. “That’s all you had to say.”

Thorpe whipped his head around at that familiar voice. Sean Mackenzie stood in the entry, then closed the door behind him with a soft snick.

Staggering to his feet, Thorpe approached the man on autopilot. His relief in seeing Sean was so strong, it felt physical. Suddenly, he didn’t have an elephant sitting on his chest.

Instead, he had something far more dangerous: hope.

It occurred to him that when he’d said good-bye to Callie, he hadn’t just lost the woman he loved, he’d also lost a partner . . . a friend. He’d come to like Sean. Rely on him.

He swallowed. “What brings you here?”

“Callie, of course.” He looked around the room at the other men. “Can you give us a minute, guys?”

Most nodded. Deke looked disappointed.

Tyler sighed noisily. “I thought I was going to get to kick some ass.”

But he grinned under that put-out expression.

Luc slapped him on the back. “You really are an a*shole.”

“Is that supposed to be news?” Tyler snapped back.

Collective male laughter filled the air as most of the guys filed out.

Logan hung back. “Listen, I owed you for helping me straighten my shit out. This was my way of repaying you. Someday, you’ll thank me, and we’ll be even. Now work it out with Sean, tell Callie how you feel, and f*cking be happy. I want an invitation to the wedding.”

With a wink, Logan shut the door.

The silence suffocated Thorpe. His palms began to sweat. A million words crowded his brain. He didn’t know which one of them to speak first.


Swallowing, he sat at the bistro table, picking at Luc’s plate and took a bite. He hoped that looking busy would cut through the awkwardness, but no. He still wasn’t sure what to say. And damn, that veal was really good.

“How are you not horrifically pissed off at me?” Thorpe blurted.

Sean tried not to laugh, but it still slipped out. “Who’s to say I’m not?” Then he sobered. “But Callie told me about your past. I can’t imagine how devastating that was. A betrayal at every level. But you know it was a long time ago, right?”

“Yes,” he agreed quickly.

“And you know Callie is nothing like the woman who took advantage of you as a kid.”

“Absolutely. It’s me. I just closed myself off and refused to care about anyone much. I’ve been a miserable son of a bitch.” Thorpe drew in a shuddering breath. “I just didn’t know how much until her. In over twenty years, I’ve never told a single person that I love them.”

It had always terrified him, the fear of having his heart crushed again. Callie wouldn’t hurt him on purpose; he knew that in his head. But he truly loved her in a way the boy he’d once been, blind with adolescent lust, couldn’t possibly comprehend. In a way his own father had never been capable of. This was so much deeper. As vital as breathing.

It gave her so much power to hurt him.

So now he’d come to a fork in the road. He knew that safety came with loneliness, sharper now because he knew exactly how precious the woman he’d lost was to him. Callie had awakened something that just wouldn’t rest again: his heart. But loving without risk was impossible.

He had to make a choice.

“I can’t promise you that life will always be simple,” Sean said. “We’re three very different people trying to make something unconventional last. But I think we’ve got a few things in our favor. Our differences are our strengths. If you and I were the same, she wouldn’t need us both. Would it be easier on my ego if she didn’t love you? Yeah. I’m sure you feel the same.”

Sean was absolutely right. But this had stopped being about Thorpe’s ego and started being about his heart. And about Callie’s. Clearly, Sean felt the same or he wouldn’t be here.

“You’re right,” Thorpe said.

“We’ve already been through some really hard times. As long as we stood together, it made us stronger. No reason to think we couldn’t grow with time.”

“I don’t think I know how to love.” That realization made Thorpe feel inadequate—something both deeply unfamiliar and uncomfortable.

“I’m not an expert, either.” Sean shrugged. “I’ve never really tried until Callie. But I think you’ve been loving her for the last four years. Maybe it doesn’t look like a relationship in a movie, but I don’t think it has to. It just has to be honest and make us all happy.”

Thorpe grunted, but he couldn’t look Sean in the eye. “You make love sound easy.”

“Maybe you’re overcomplicating it. Put her first. Be honest. Don’t let fear stop you from getting what you want.”

Sean was right. So simply right that he just stared. He’d been letting fear stop him for far too long.

“I don’t deserve another chance, but I want one,” Thorpe murmured, then finally met the other man’s gaze. “If you’ll give it to me.”

“Can you tell her that you love her? Look her right in the eye and swear she’s the most important woman in the world to you?”

Thorpe closed his eyes and focused on every emotion he’d been trying to dam behind a wall of numbness. He pictured releasing it and just feeling whatever came. And it did. God, it was a massive flood of biblical proportions—a wave bittersweet, poignant, and painful. It robbed his breath. He gasped. Then relief came.

And he was finally able to take a deep breath without agony for the first time in weeks.

He wasn’t going to be the p-ssy Logan accused him of being any longer. And he refused to allow Nara’s indifference or his father’s contempt to break him. He was going to embrace life and love. He was going to settle down, grow old with Callie, be a good friend and partner to Sean, and enjoy every moment they had together.

“I don’t think I could stop myself,” he admitted.

Sean smiled. “Good. The rest is up to her.”

“Yeah.” He sucked in a breath. “Thank you. You’ve always been the bigger man when it came to Callie. If she’ll have me, I’ll at least meet you halfway from now on. That’s a promise.”

Sean held out his hand. “I’ll hold you to it.”

Thorpe shook it, then brought the man in for a brotherly hug. He still had so many thoughts pouring through his head that he couldn’t process them all, but as Sean slapped his back, he felt certain this was right.

Finally, they backed away, and Thorpe had to work to keep it together. Another stiff breath, a long pause, then he was finally able to carry on. “What’s next?”

“Let me catch you up on a few things. We’ve intentionally kept Callie in the spotlight so the mercenaries who tried to kill her will shy away from finishing the job. We can’t say it on the air, and it’s classified so don’t make me shoot you, but the FBI is running down the identities of those a*sholes. James Whitney is part of a homegrown separatist group, run by ex-military malcontents, calling themselves LOSS, or the League of Secessionist Soldiers. We’re trying to figure out who’s funding them. The NSA is getting involved. It seems they’ve been working this case from another angle. But Whitney and some of his counterparts have slipped into Mexico. They’ll be caught; it’s just a matter of time. The most important thing now is that Callie no longer appears to be a target.”

“That’s good news. I think we’d be wise to remain cautious.”

“Absolutely,” Sean confirmed. “The bureau has kept me on the case, so I’m up on the latest. I also have some answers to the questions I didn’t have when they first sent me to watch over her. According to my boss, the bureau knew about Aslanov’s genetic research and knew the later findings had disappeared. Eventually, they figured out that Daniel Howe probably had them, but before they could reach him, LOSS did. Though the Chicago PD botched things by labeling her a suspect early on, everyone in the loop here hoped Callie had important information, even if it was something she knew unconsciously. These genetic experiments are still going on, and Uncle Sam isn’t excited about the idea of an army of superior soldiers under the control of people who want to overthrow our government. Hence, all the secrecy. Since Callie had proven ridiculously slippery over the years to bring in, they sent me to her, hoping I could find out what she knew before she ran again. Of course, the bureau wishes Callie would have kept some of the details in her father’s notes to herself, and if my boss had given me more information about my mission, I might have been able to facilitate that, but mission accomplished. Everyone is happy.”

Well, almost. Thorpe nodded. “All the douche bags who’ve chased her over the years, who sent them?”

“The bureau is disavowing knowledge of any bounty hunters, but personally I think they’re full of shit. It might have been the NSA or some other player of Uncle Sam’s who hasn’t shown his cards yet. Who knows? Either way, now that the secret about the research and Daniel Howe’s murder is out, Callie knows nothing else of value to make anyone want to kill her. I’m guessing the assassins were sent by LOSS. We’re still running that down.” Sean shrugged. “There’s not much else on that front.”

“Well, then, we should talk about Callie. I’m making a huge assumption that she’ll actually have me back.” Thorpe held his breath.

If she wouldn’t, he had no one to blame but himself.

“I can’t speak for her, but I can say that she hasn’t been the same without you.”

“During her last interview, she looked . . . I don’t know, sad. Not quite complete.”

Sean nodded. “She was determined not to bother you if you didn’t want her, no matter how much it was hurting her.”

Thorpe grunted his disbelief. “I wish she had ‘bothered’ me. This is probably the only time I’ll ever be tempted to turn her over my knee for following my directions.”

“She’d like that.” Sean grinned.

“I would, too.” After he kissed her, held her tight, told her that he loved her and would never let her go. “This isn’t a fling for me. It’s the rest of my life.”

“It better be.”

“But . . . you know I’m getting old. Callie is still so young.”

“What, are you Old Yeller now? You think I should take you out back and shoot you? Stop. It’s going to work out if you let it. Don’t think about anything except that we love her and she loves us.”

“You’re damn smart, Mackenzie.” Thorpe shook his head wryly.

“I’ll remind you of that next time you think about calling me a dumbass.”

Despite the moment being cloaked with laughter, Thorpe knew that he and Sean had forged a friendship with respect.


“Where is she?” Thorpe asked. “I want to see her.” Desperately. Right now.

“At home. I didn’t want to bring her here or get her hopes up unless I knew that . . .”

“I’d pulled my head out of my ass?”

“Something like that,” Sean admitted. “For now, we’ve rented a quiet little house near Highland Park. She’s there now, probably in bed reading. She likes that.”

“She always has.” Thorpe smiled fondly. Then worry set in. “Where does she think you are?”

“Work. I rushed out the door after I got a few calls.”

“From Axel?”

“The first one came from Logan to ask if I’d come. Axel rang next with details. Luc called to ask what you like to eat. Jack called to ask me a series of questions that told me he’s a scary-smart bastard. You have some interesting friends.”

Thorpe smiled. He did. He’d have to thank them, too. Eating crow would suck, but they’d been right.

Now that he was determined to be with Callie, a vital question stomped across his brain. “I have to know, have you already put a ring on her finger?”

“No. It’s been a whirlwind for weeks, running from one interview to the next, dealing with her estate, moving into a new place. We’re finally home for a few days, so . . .” Sean shrugged.

Which meant that Sean intended to propose.

“What if . . . I married her?” When Sean opened his mouth, Thorpe’s stomach tightened. “Just hear me out.” He paced for a silent moment, then turned back. “You’ve already collared her. That’s sacred. I would never try to impede on that bond. But since you’ve got that claim on her, I have no other way to call her mine.”

Sean said nothing for a very long minute. “Are you thinking of not sharing in her submission?”

The idea was like a stab in the gut. He would take Callie however he got her, but he was a Dominant through and through. Never having her kneel or call him her Sir, not really having the authority to punish or praise her except in the most vanilla ways . . . “I want her submission more than anything.”

“That’s what I suspected. Have you ever thought about claiming her before?”

Sean was so unflinchingly honest and unafraid. Thorpe knew he had to be the same. “A little more than two years ago, before I knew who she really was, I was mad for her. Completely smitten. I bought this.”

He turned away to his bedroom, gesturing for Sean to follow. Inside his closet, he shoved clothes aside to reveal a safe. A few turns of the dial and he was holding a black velvet box. He handed it to Sean. “Open it.”

The lid opened in soft silence. Sean’s eyes fell to the contents and widened. “It’s beautiful. It suits her.”

“That’s why I bought it. I have a jeweler friend, and when I told her I’d been looking for the right something for Callie, she showed this to me. I couldn’t not buy it.” He sighed. “I realized Callie’s identity two weeks later and tried to tell myself it was for the best.”

“Why didn’t you return it?”

Thorpe had asked himself that question a million times. “I couldn’t bring myself to. In my head, it was made for her.”

“It had to have cost you a fortune.”

He laughed. “It did. And at the time, I just didn’t care. She was worth every penny.”

“I understand completely. If you want to see Callie now, bring that with you and be prepared to use it. I’ve got an idea.”

***

CALLIE looked at the clock again. After eleven. She frowned. If Sean wasn’t assigned to another case, whatever happened tonight had to be about hers. Gawd, she hoped that Whitney and his cronies hadn’t cut short their Mexican vacation to come back and finish murdering her for the hell of it.

Not that Sean had left her unprotected. She more than suspected that he’d hired bodyguards to watch the house day and night. Maybe it should bother the independent woman in her, but he cared about her safety. So even though she’d learned to take care of herself, his precautions made her a little warm and fuzzy.

She focused on her e-reader again, doing her best to lose herself in a cozy mystery. It was either that or wish Sean was home. And miss Thorpe some more.

Sighing, Callie looked out the massive French doors in the master bedroom, over the expansive backyard. Dominion was out there, only twelve point two miles away—she’d mapped it out—but the distance might as well be a whole universe. Thorpe was gone. He wasn’t over his past and he wasn’t coming back. Callie wanted to be angry, but she was mostly sad as hell.

Her saving grace had been Sean. His love, his reassurance, his laughter were all balms to her pain. Despite their travel and hectic schedule lately, he never missed an opportunity to make love to her. His touch—frequent and adoring—always made her feel like the center of the universe. Sometimes, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was trying to fill the gap left by Thorpe’s absence. How did she tell him that he already filled half of her so perfectly that just being next to him sometimes made her cry because she was so blessed? She didn’t expect him to fill the other half of her left bleeding and empty when Thorpe had gone. Her former boss and protector couldn’t fill Sean’s half, either. Neither was a substitute for the other.

She simply loved them both.

Pointless thoughts. Callie tossed the e-reader down and rose, her short black nightie swishing around her thighs.

Across the house, she heard the sound of the garage door opening, the chime of the alarm, the door shutting, the rattle of keys, the sounds of footsteps. She smiled.

Sean appeared a few seconds later, his face unreadable. He crossed the floor directly to her, took her face in his hands, and pressed a rapt kiss on her mouth. With a moan, she melted into him. Now he would take her in his arms and strip off the scrap of silk covering her. He would show her his devotion and she would give it back, opening her heart even wider to him.

Instead, he stepped away. “Kneel for me, lovely.”

Oh, he was in that mood. They hadn’t engaged in any BDSM play since the houseboat. Now that the possibility was in front of her, she realized how badly she’d missed it. Itched for it. Needed to feel as if she could put herself in the hands of the man she loved, knowing he would push her to her limits, yet trusting him utterly not to break her.

“Yes, Sir.” She fell to her knees at his feet, bowed her head, and waited breathlessly. Her body began to bloom with anticipation.

Without a word, he bent to her. She heard a little click, and the wire of white gold lifted from around her neck.

He had uncollared her?

Callie gasped and looked up at Sean with horror. “W-what have I done? How have I not made you happy?”

Sean crouched in front of her and smoothed a hand against her cheek. He held her heart in his hands. He was breaking her in two, and yet he looked so excited. If he left her . . . No! Her chest was already splitting open at the thought.

“You make me very happy. It’s a different claim I want on you now.” He pulled a little velvet box from his pants, and her crushing pain transformed into astonished joy. “Callindra Alexis Howe, will you marry me? God knows I’ve loved you from the beginning, and I can’t imagine spending much longer without making you my wife. Please say yes.”

As he stood and helped her to her feet, Callie teared up. She threw herself into his arms, gripping him so tightly, overwhelmed when he held her with the same intensity. Tears fell so swiftly as her heart overflowed. She pulled back and, through her watery gaze, stared into his eyes. She wanted him to know how much she meant this.

“I love you. I don’t know if you’ll ever understand how much, but I’ll do my best to show you every day. Yes!”

Sean pulled her in and gripped her close again, and she clung for dear life, celebrating what would be now that they’d be husband and wife, what could be once they started a family. And mourning what could never be without Thorpe.

Callie dug her fingers into Sean. She had to stop that. Thorpe could not be the specter between them. He’d made it clear that he didn’t want her, and she had to exorcise him. She’d ached for family, belonging, and happiness since her father and sister had been murdered. Eventually the people responsible would get their justice. But she wouldn’t forfeit the love she shared with Sean now and forever to pine for a man who wouldn’t share his heart.

Gently, Sean pulled back, peppering her face with soft, sweet kisses. Then he opened the box. Callie clapped a hand over her lips, overjoyed at the beauty of the ring—and the moment.

A lovely round center stone winked up at her, surrounded by a circle of smaller diamonds. The band was covered in the same delicate stones. It wasn’t extravagant. It wasn’t anything like the giant rock her father had given her mother—and she was glad. What Sean had given her was absolutely perfect and what she would have picked herself.

The poignant beauty of the event only felt more complete when he slipped the ring on her finger.

“I’m going to make you happy,” she whispered, smiling through her tears.

“I know. I’ll do everything I can to make you happy, too, lovely.” He stole another soft kiss. “I always will.”


She knew that. Her neck felt naked without his mark of possession there. That didn’t make her happy at all. “I could still wear your collar too, you know.”

He shook his head. “It’s not how I wanted to make you mine. I first put it on you under false pretenses. You first accepted it for the wrong reasons. This”—he thumbed her engagement ring—“is for us. For the right reasons. I’m going to cherish you always. Besides, something else needs to go around your neck.”

Sean caressed her cheek, then walked past her, settling himself in the big club chair in the corner. What the hell was he talking about?

“Pet?”

The deep voice that haunted her now rang in her head. She had to be hallucinating. But when she zipped around, Callie knew she wasn’t hearing things.

“Thorpe?” He stood there, fatigued and distinctly nervous, but as commanding as ever with his feet spread, his hands behind his back. His gray eyes penetrated her, reaching all the way to her heart with one glance.

He raised a brow at her. “That address will do for now. Kneel for me.”

She whipped her gaze over to Sean, who didn’t say a word. He merely watched in silence.

“You brought him here?” she asked.

“We’ve talked. He asked to see you,” her fiancé said.

To apologize? To make some stupid amends? For sex? She turned back to Thorpe, blinking in confusion.

“You’re not kneeling yet, pet.” He stared expectantly at the floor, then back to her. Everything about his demeanor said that he expected to be obeyed.

“I think you should do as he asks, lovely.” Sean wore a faint smile.

Their byplay reminded her of Las Vegas. They were on the same page of some agenda she didn’t quite grasp. But she’d loved the results then. Despite the danger surrounding her at the time, Callie had never been happier.

She sank to her knees, the plush carpet cushioning her. She risked a glance up at Thorpe’s face. His expression softened.

He caressed the crown of her head, and the touch electrified her, radiating down her spine. She’d never imagined that she would ever see him again, much less be this close. The tears of joy that had assailed her during Sean’s proposal returned. Her fiancé would never have brought Thorpe here if he intended to break her heart again.

Smiling, she bowed her head. “Sir?”

“That’s closer to the form of address I’d like to hear, Callie. But I want you to call me something far more important.” He cradled her chin in his hand and lifted it to him. “I want to be your Master. I desire you to be my one and only pet.”

He brought his other hand in front of his body, gripping an oblong black box.

Callie blinked. His face was tempered with unmistakable affection and devotion. Her heart skittered, then began to pound.

Were all her dreams really coming true?

“I’m sure you have questions for me,” he murmured. “And you have every right to them. Let me see if I can answer them for you.”

“Please.” She could barely choke the word out past the emotion constricting her throat.

“I was an ass for leaving you. Stupid. Logan called me something less complimentary, and he was right. I’ve never felt so complete as when I’m with you. You fulfill all my Dominant needs when you submit . . . and you’re just bratty enough to be a challenge. I can’t live without you anymore. Please don’t make me try. If you say yes, I will treat your submission with the utmost care. I will push your limits and keep you safe, while giving you the discipline you need and the affection you deserve. There will never be another for me, and I will never leave you again. I hope you’ll consent to wear my collar and call me Master with pride.”

He opened the box, and Callie was in for the second jolt of amazement for the night. Nestled in velvet lay a glittering collar. A thick length of platinum would encircle her neck, unbreakable, symbolizing their bond. The glimmering metal met in the front and would be held together by one petite lock on each side of a massive dangling center stone. The stunning aquamarine was encircled with petite diamonds and would rest right in the hollow of her throat.

Callie raised astonished eyes to him. “Are you serious?”

“I think so. He bought it for you two years ago and has held on to it,” Sean supplied.

“It was made for you, pet. I’ve always wanted you to wear it for me. Will you have me?”

“Will you really be here tomorrow?” The question sounded as scared as she felt. Callie bit her lip.

“Every day for the rest of my life.”

Thorpe said everything right . . . except those three words that had been in their way. Still, were they important? She knew he loved her. Wasn’t the commitment more important than the platitude? Yes, but she still yearned for him to hold her close, look into her eyes, and tell her what was in his heart.

“Isn’t that what you want to hear, pet?” Thorpe prodded.

It was enough for now. But she’d also just committed her life to Sean. He’d brought Thorpe here, so she imagined her fiancé approved, but . . . she looked his way in question.

“Thorpe and I have talked, lovely. We’re reconciled. We both felt this arrangement works best because I’ve always wanted to marry you. I’m more traditional.” He shrugged. “My ring on your finger means everything to me. The press already has us linked romantically. This will simply seem like the natural evolution of our relationship to the outside world. Because it is.”

His ring on her finger meant the world to her, and she would be proud to be his wife.

“And I’ve always wanted you to be my submissive,” Thorpe said, his voice thick. “I’ve had a wife. The marriage didn’t give me that deep bond of trust and understanding I’ve been searching for my whole life. I entered into it for the wrong reasons. The union     was easily broken, and I didn’t mourn its loss. What we share feels nothing like that. The minute I left you, the pain nearly crushed me. I’ve never collared a submissive of my own to”—he turned to Sean with a nod—“‘cherish’ is the perfect word. Thanks for that.”

Sean smiled faintly. “You’re welcome.”

“I want you to be the first and the last, Callie, to enter with me into the bond I hold most sacred.” Thorpe stood before her, looking vulnerable but proud. Body tall, shoulders imposing, eyes all but begging.

She melted inside. For four years, she’d watched him with sub after sub, looking for something he’d never found. The discontent she’d always seen then was gone. Her fondest fantasy when she’d lived at Dominion was to become his collared one and only. She’d always suspected that if he let himself care and took one woman as his, he would do everything to make the bond as deep and real as a marriage.

“Now, that’s not to say that he won’t regard you like a husband,” Sean added.

“Or that Sean won’t praise or punish you like your Dom when you need it.” Thorpe gave her a firm nod.

She expected nothing less.

“So you’ve heard what we want, but the choice is yours,” Thorpe said softly.

The tears she’d managed to hold at bay fell in hot rivulets down her face. She shuddered in a breath, then looked up at Thorpe with her heart in her eyes. “I accept this collar as a symbol of your ownership. To you, I pledge my obedience and my love. I have every faith that you will give me both the affection and the discipline I need. In return, I offer to you the gift of myself and am proud to call you Master.”

With a look of supreme pride and shaking hands, Thorpe fastened her new collar around her neck. Fleetingly, she noticed that it felt so right as he hauled her to her feet and brought her against him. “Thank f*cking God.”

“Amen,” Sean said, rising from the chair in the corner.

As Thorpe layered his mouth over hers for a softly commanding kiss, Sean sidled in behind her and pressed his lips to her neck. “Now get ready to hear the words I suspect you’ll hear often, lovely.”

Thorpe cupped her face in his hands and fused their stares together, seeing right down into her soul. “I love you, Callie. You will hear it often. I hope you can get used to it.”

The joy exploded inside her, and she was left gloriously bleeding with emotion, speechless, and so ready for the future.

“I love you, too, Mitchell.” She turned in his arms to face Sean. “And I love you, Sean. My world is forever changed to the most beautiful existence possible because of you.”

Sean kissed her forehead, her nose, then lingered at her lips. “I love you, and I’m sure you’ll hear it from me often as well. But that wasn’t what I was referring to.”

“Oh?” She sent him a beguiling smile.

“I’m sure not, pet.”

Callie cast Thorpe a glance over her shoulder. It warmed her to know that her acceptance of their bond put that contented look on his face.

“So what else did you mean to say?” She smiled coyly.

Thorpe drew in a deep breath. His shoulders rose, his chest widened. He wore his authority like a well-made suit as he gave her his first command as her Master. “Strip.”


She flushed from head to toe. She’d been expecting it, and it still made her tingle, made her body burn with anticipation.

“Yes, Master.”

Sean caressed her shoulder, and her gaze lifted to his face, the longing in his eyes. She answered back with a kiss.

“Now, lovely, if you please.”

A smile broke out across her face. Her world was perfect. “My pleasure.”