Page 20

Mortification washes over me in a hot wave. Last night, after my shower, I had a brief check-in with Christine about our next meeting. Had he been outside my room? Listening?

"You were eavesdropping on me?" I demand, anger replacing embarrassment.

"Not intentionally. I came to your room to talk, raised my hand to knock, but when I heard you on the phone, I paused." He looks annoyingly unperturbed. "Couldn't help but overhear some... interesting details about your reading preferences."

Oh god.

What exactly had he heard? Christine and I had been discussing our current book, a particularly spicy Daddy Dom romance with discipline spanking and definite power exchange dynamics.

"That was a private conversation," I say stiffly, offended by his decision to eavesdrop on me. How loud was I talking? How much had he heard?

"It was." He leans forward, elbows on his knees. "And illuminating."

"If you're going to mock me—" I push off the couch.

"Sit back down, Jackie,” he commands. “I'm not mocking you. I wouldn’t have listened except I froze in place by what I heard. I’m sorry that I violated your privacy. When I heard what was being said, I wanted to understand what you want, Jackie.”

I set my water glass down with more force than necessary. "What I want is to not have my privacy invaded."

"Fair enough." He nods, conceding the point. "But I think what I overheard might explain some of the tension between us."

"Meaning?"

"Like recognizes like. Meaning you respond to a certain type of... dynamic." His eyes hold mine, unflinching. "One that I happen to favor myself."

My breath catches as his implication becomes clear. He heard me talking about Daddy Dom romance and recognized the dynamic. Which means…

"You're into that?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Into what, exactly?" he counters. "Say it, Jackie."

The challenge in his voice makes something flip in my stomach. "Power exchange," I manage. "Dominance and submission."

"Yes." His gaze is steady, assessing. "I’m a Daddy Dom."

I swallow hard, heat blooming between my thighs despite my best efforts to remain detached. "You're saying..."

"In the right circumstances. With the right partner." His voice drops lower. "Someone who needs both firm guidance and tender care. Someone who's strong on the outside but craves surrender on the inside. Someone who might call me 'Daddy' when they're being particularly good. Or particularly naughty."

Oh.Oh.

"Someone like me," I say, the realization washing over me like a warm wave.

His smile is slow, knowing. "That's what I'm trying to determine."

His presumption should offend me. I should be storming out, insulted that he thinks he has me figured out based on a snippet of overheard conversation.

Instead, I'm transfixed, heart racing, a yearning I've only explored through fiction suddenly presenting itself as a very real possibility.

"And if I am?" My voice comes out steadier than I feel. "What then?"

"Then we have a conversation about boundaries and expectations." He watches me intently. "And then, if we both want to, we explore what that might look like between us."

The practical, professional part of me is screaming that this is insane. I barely know this man. I'm here to do a job. The wedding is in two days.

But another part, the part that devours Daddy Dom romances and fantasizes about strong hands and spankings, is already imagining what it would be like to surrender to Matt Dayton.

"I'm still here to do a job," I say, needing to establish at least some boundaries. "Whatever... this is... it can't interfere with that."