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“M’kay, we has movie night instead, Daddy.” There was a smacking sound, a giggle. “I go wake up the horde!”

“Oh hell, no. Lisha, don’t you dare!” Atticus made an exasperated noise. “That’s me signing off before she has the house in chaos.”

The line went dead before anyone could say goodbye, but Anarchy was already laughing. “Poor Atticus. Next time we have to leave on assignment, maybe we should ask Zeke and Olivia to watch the kids.”

“Zeke spoils them. Braun might be the better choice.” Jasper leaned forward and snapped the laptop shut, plucking it off her lap. “We’ll see you later, Merrick. I think we’ll be taking advantage of the facilities while we’re here if you and your… girl,” he decided after a moment’s thought, “are up for a drink.”

“If it involves leaving the cabin, probably not.” Merrick didn’t mention the near-miss with Blake and the orgy.

He watched Jasper grasp his wife’s arm gently and lead her toward the front door. She was obviously tired—he didn’t know much about the stages of pregnancy, but he imagined growing another human being was a huge drain on the mother’s energy and physical resources.

What struck him most was Jasper’s way with her. He used his words, quite effectively, not only to keep her to a certain line—which she tested frequently, given the fact she wasn’t afraid of him—but to tease her as well. For a sadist, he seemed remarkably even-tempered, although those eyes did suit him.

Merrick got the distinct impression the man would step in front of a bullet without hesitation if it saved the woman he loved. Still, there was a sense of relief when they left, as though a subtle tension dissipated with their exit. Maybe the guy just vibrated at a certain primal level, subconsciously warning off any potential threats through sheer will alone.

Once, he’d believed his love for Helena was that strong. Maybe it had been, at least on his side. But now Tamsyn was in his life, he was beginning to realize Helena was right when she’d told him he wasn’t mature enough to commit to her back then, even though he hadn’t particularly felt the desire to sow his oats with anyone but her.

In the back of his mind, a tiny kernel of resentment he hadn’t known he still felt toward her loosened and broke apart. He wasn’t a man who believed over much in fate and destiny, but it felt like he’d been touched by both when he was in Tamsyn’s presence.

Maybe Helena’s rejection was meant to be; a sign of better things to come, a hint that almost perfect wasn’t right for him. A silent message telling him to wait for the impossible to find him.

The one who captured not only his interest, but his fascination.

The one who caught his attention without saying a word.

The one who gave him her heart without asking for his in return.

There was no regret in letting Helena go, free and clear. She’d made her bed and she was responsible for everything that happened from then on. She was his first love, but not his last, and that was okay.

Loving Tamsyn was proving to be a whole new experience, one he was enjoying despite the challenges—or maybe because of them. She didn’t want to be with him because of his money—how could she be when she didn’t know about it? She sure as hell wasn’t after his dick and a few months of fooling around in the sheets; hell, if she stuck around once she saw what he’d been cursed with, he’d feel a lot more secure in their future.

Time would tell where they’d end up, he supposed.

Marriage and kids really didn’t sound like a bad idea right about now.

All he needed to do first was find a Dom he trusted to get the hardest part out of the way so they could move on to the rest. Luckily for him, he had just the guy in mind.

Chapter Seven

Tamsyn

Music was playing when she woke.

A man’s smooth voice crooned about something coming and going in waves, the freedom of falling.

Tamsyn drifted for a little while, floating on the lyrics, not quite ready to come back to reality. Lingering memories of abject humiliation, peeing herself and throwing up yet again on the carpet, were enough to keep her hunkered down in the quiet twilight between sleep and full consciousness.

When the song ended, she stirred, sighing contentedly.

Finally opening her eyes, she blinked in surprise as Merrick’s face filled her vision. The side of it, anyway. He slept beside her, on top of the covers, his features relaxed.

He was the most handsome man she’d ever seen.

One thick arm laid over his bare stomach and she was captivated by the difference in skin tones between the two; his forearm was a few shades darker than his belly, tanned by the sun over summer, at a guess. She loved the shades of his chest hair, some silver, some gray, with a scattering of darker ones leading down to his waistband.

There was nothing on his feet, she noted, and the button of his jeans was undone.

Would he mind if she touched him while he slept?