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subjects.
Why anyone would choose to risk life and limb the way he did as he described his most
adventurous shoots was beyond me. I told him as much.
He laughed. ‘Training reduces the risk of injury. Working with people you trust and will have your
back also helps.’
Reminded of his question earlier, I asked, ‘So you have your own group of friends you work with?’
His smile dimmed a little. ‘I wouldn’t call them friends exactly. They’re just a team I’ve worked
with over the years. When we’re done, we go our separate ways until the next assignment brings us
together.’
‘So who is your one true friend?’ I pressed, tossing his question back at him. His gaze swept down, and he feigned interest in the contents of his plate. After a moment he shrugged. ‘No one fits the label.
Not any more.’
The finality of his statement tugged something inside me. ‘Stephanie?’
His eyes narrowed, displeasure bristling from him as he stared at me across the island. He opened
his mouth, but I pre-empted his reply.
‘You can tell me to mind my own business if you want to. I’m just as curious as you were about
me.’
His lips pursed, the last bite forgotten as he set down his fork. When he shrugged, his shoulders
were stiff. ‘We were lovers. But I thought we were friends too. I was wrong.’
‘Was she a Domme?’ I asked boldly.
He gave a bitter laugh. ‘She went all out to fool me into thinking so, that’s for sure.’
I gasped, unable to help my shock. ‘Why...how?’
‘Same way con artists fool people. She studied her craft, learned to imitate until she’d convinced
herself she was an expert on the lifestyle. We met shortly before I went away on a three-month-long shoot. She made all the right moves, made me think she was what I wanted.’ His eyes captured mine,
boldly spearing me. ‘But the truth always comes out, doesn’t it?’
I wanted to snap back, punish him for daring to question me. But didn’t his experience reflect
mine? How many times had I fooled myself into thinking I was in a committed relationship only to
discover differently? ‘Yes, it does,’ I found myself replying, my voice nowhere near sharp or
scolding.
Understanding passed between us. Then memory etched harsh lines into his face. ‘Unfortunately,
Stephanie’s little performance went beyond trying to fake her way into my bed.’