Page 59 of Over the Line

“Correct. And that’s the whole story.” She squirmed, wanting to move on to a different topic. At this point, Sydney was sorry she’d told them anything at all. But still, her emotions had been in such turmoil since she’d driven away from Master Michael that she hadn’t been able to keep the events bottled up inside.

Maybe going home with him was a mistake.

His house was huge, and it spoke of a commitment to something deeper than his own life. He was attached to the land and his family history. And he had an eye on future generations, creating a legacy.

When she’d escaped from the relationship with Lewis, she’d reinforced her choices to carpe diem, seizing the present moment.

Yet, a single night with the sexy cowboy at the Eagle’s Bend Ranch had turned her inside out.

Master Michael was a skilled Top. Dominant to his core, and he’d seen through her in ways no one else ever had. And he challenged her. No one else had discovered her fear of being left alone. Most likely it was because she’d never let anyone get close enough to learn any of her secrets.

So why you, Master Michael?

As she’d cleaned her condo and packed for her trip, she’d asked herself that question a dozen times.

During a restless night’s sleep, where she’d dreamed of that spanking and his final, deliciously tempting parting words to her, she’d finally admitted the truth to herself.

He was man enough to thrill her, and persistently Dominant enough to read her emotions and shatter her resistance.

She sighed, hating the realization, knowing it left her vulnerable to him.

Intuition blared in warning. But feminine hunger urged her to ignore her more cautious side and play with him a second time, despite her hard and fast rules.

“Earth to Sydney.” Lea snapped her fingers.

“Sorry.” She shook her head to clear it of the near-constant thoughts of Michael.

“Your story seems to be lacking some details.”

“I think that about covers it.”

“No, ma’am.” She took a sip of wine. “You left out the part where you got the welts on the backs of your thighs. I saw them when we were at the swimming pool.”

“You should become a private investigator,” Jacqueline said with a raised brow. “If Jack doesn’t work out—”

“John,” Lea corrected. “This one is named John.”

“As I was saying, if this marriage doesn’t work out, I’ll offer you a job at my law firm.”

“Hmm. I may take you up on it. Do I need a license or something?”

“Mostly you need to chase down obscure details and angles and check out people’s stories.”

“I’m good at that. Eye for details.”

“Nosy,” Sydney corrected, leaning forward to grab one of the chocolate chip cookies they’d snagged from the lobby at check-in. They’d split the cost of the suite three ways, and that was the only reason she’d been able to afford to stay at such a fancy place.

“So, about the welts,” Leaundra prompted.

“Tenacious, as well,” Jacqueline observed.

Knowing Lea wouldn’t relent—and was likely to circle back after another glass of wine when Sydney was even more willing to talk—she sighed. “At the beginning of the evening, we had a small scene outside at the Den to see if we were compatible.”

“Outside?”

“He had me bend over a fence.”

“Like your pants were down and everything?”