Love and Let Die (Masters and Mercenaries #5)(50)

They didn’t make him feel.

He looked up at Alex, who was cuddling Eve and sending him an encouraging look. Like he’d just joined Alex’s fellowship of dipshit husbands.

Derek was staring at them, and then his eyes trailed away. He was alone and it was obvious that he was very aware of that fact.

Ian was more like Derek than Alex.

He couldn’t tell Alex how much he wished he could be like him or Sean or the rest of them. Eve had never betrayed Alex. Grace had never chosen someone else over Sean. Serena had been steadfast and loyal to Jake and Adam. Avery hadn’t cost Liam and his friends years of their lives.

He could admit deep inside that she was the woman for him. He’d never really denied it.

But he couldn’t forgive her, and he damn straight would never forgive himself.

Feelings sucked. And Alex was right. Eve did snore.





Chapter Seven

Charlie looked out over the crowd and hoped to hell Ian knew what he was doing. It was one time she kind of hoped he’d practiced on every available sub since he was planning on setting her on freaking fire.

Fire hurt. Fire burned. Cavemen had figured that out, but Ian Taggart was behind the times.

He stood at the small stand Ryan had set up after Alex and Eve’s scene. She hadn’t been paying attention. She’d sort of watched Alex and Eve’s scene, but mostly she’d just enjoyed being close to Ian. She’d also worried about her sister too much to get involved in anyone’s scene. Now she could see plainly that her sister was getting what she needed from Sanctum’s Dom in Residence who, unlike Simon Weston, didn’t really want to see her naked. Chelsea was holding on to the bindings of a St. Andrew’s Cross and Ryan Church was using a deerskin flogger on her back, buttocks, and hamstrings. He was very carefully working her over and Chelsea was perfectly still for the treatment. There was no passion there, just a simple exchange.

What would she have gotten from Simon? The big Brit was standing at the back of the crowd watching the scene play out. His handsome face was stony, his eyes locked on Chelsea. He would have forced her past her comfort zone. Charlie got the feeling he also would have rewarded her for being brave.

Chelsea had gotten to the point that she couldn’t give up control. Simon couldn’t know how much it had cost her sister to offer to let him tie her down. Chelsea even hated seat belts. But she’d been more willing to face that fear than to take off her clothes. Was her sister so ashamed of the scars on her legs that she was willing to never take a lover? Did she honestly intend to stay a virgin for the rest of her life? Because Charlie was pretty damn sure she was. Would Chelsea spend her whole life never trusting a soul?

Charlie could spend her life like that. She could walk away from Ian and she would very likely be able to find a man who would acquiesce to her demands and she would get exactly what she said she needed.

Or she could trust Ian and discover a whole new world of what she wanted.

She tried to see exactly what was on the table. It looked like there was a large wad of cotton balls, several plastic bottles containing god only knew what, and she could see the glass pieces for a violet wand.

“Charlie?” Ian gestured to the massage table in the middle of the stage floor.

Already there were people standing around, including Serena, who gave her a wink and a little thumbs up. She was probably already writing a fire play scene in her head.

It was just a scene. Just play. Ian had never hurt her. She’d been the one to hurt him. He’d kept his end of the bargain. It was past time to keep hers.

She was afraid of fire, but then she was also afraid of elevators, and when she held his hand, she could handle them.

A deep sense of peace settled over her. Most of her life she had shoved her fear down because fear could get her killed. But it would be all right to be afraid at Sanctum. He was here. It was all right to feel afraid because nothing bad would happen to her.

She let her heart race as she walked to him.

“You’re overdressed for the scene, love.”

Well, of course she was. He certainly wouldn’t want to set her micromini on fire and the corset was probably expensive. Surely her skin would heal.

She stepped toward him, leaving a foot or so between them. She had to tilt her head up to look at him. It was so rare for a man to truly tower over her. She was almost six feet herself and no one could call her underfed, but Ian Taggart was a mountain of a man. She let her eyes drift from his lean waist to that gorgeous line of skin shown off where his leather vest had been left open. His leathers hung low on his hips, exposing deep notches where his cut torso met strong legs. His abs were washboard perfect. His chest was big, his shoulders broad. He could pick her up and not notice her substantial weight.

And then she got to that perfectly square jaw. She wanted to kiss it, to soften it so he would smile at her. He almost never smiled, but when he did it lit up the room and he got the sweetest laugh lines. She loved the way they crinkled around his eyes. When he really smiled, when he forgot everything but his own amusement, he got the cutest dimples in his cheeks.

“Charlotte?” Ian asked. “Have I lost you again? Might I ask what’s going on in your head?”

She was aware there was a crowd and they were all avidly watching the exchange, likely wondering if she was going to safe word out. Ian looked like he was wondering, too. “I was just thinking about how pretty you are, Sir.”