Beneath the Scars (Masters of the Shadowlands #13)(59)

“It’s busy enough that I need to get back. Enjoy your evening.” Her nod to him could be considered polite…if a man didn’t mind having his balls frozen off. With a quick sidestep, she moved around him and away.

Anne looked up. “All right, Holt, what did you do to our new bartender?”

“The way she talked to you, she could have iced the drinks without adding the cubes,” Ben said.

“Very funny.” Holt watched Josie take her place behind the makeshift bar. As she chatted with members ordering drinks, her smile lacked the joy and enthusiasm normally present. “Unfortunately, I don’t know what I did.”

“I hate when that happens,” Ben said seriously. “Women.”

Anne raised an eyebrow. “Don’t make me hurt you, guard dog.”

“Mistress, I’m fucking looking forward to when you can,” Ben said, his voice a low rumble.

“Oh, me, too. It’s been forever.” She heaved a frustrated sigh before turning her attention back to Holt. “We’re having a barbecue tomorrow afternoon if you’re free.”

Wasn’t she due…like now? Without thinking, he looked at her belly.

Ben barked a laugh. “Yeah, the gathering is a last minute deal, mostly to keep someone from stewing.”

Holt didn’t even have to think. “Sure. Want me to bring something?”

“Yes.” Anne smiled slowly. “Bring the bartender if you manage to get back into her good graces.”

“I’ll do that.” Holt patted Anne’s shoulder gently and headed for the bar.


When a honey-smooth deep voice said her name, Josie turned with a smile…and wanted to smack herself. Holt.

In a black vest, black T-shirt, and black jeans, he leaned on the bar. As he smiled at her, she saw he hadn’t shaved. His beard stubble, shades darker than his hair, shadowed the stern line of his jaw.

And why was she noticing that?

She lifted her chin. “Good evening. What can I get you?”

It was annoying that her mouth wanted to add “Sir” to the end of the sentence.

“Answers would be good, thank you,” he said politely, despite the unyielding expression in his gaze. “When’s your break?”

“I-I’m not a-available for anything.” She firmed her voice back to cold. “My break time isn’t your concern.”

“I see.” He glanced behind him at the closest sitting area where several people were gathered. “Raoul, can you babysit the bar for fifteen? The bartender and I need to chat.”

“Of course, my friend.” The Dom’s Hispanic accent was familiar, but she didn’t remember meeting him. His black leather vest couldn’t conceal the thick muscles of a bodybuilder…or the gold band around his arm.

Wait, was he the Dom who’d helped release her from the restraints last weekend? When she was naked? She felt herself flush.

Raoul—Master Raoul—reached down to the slender brunette kneeling beside him. “Come, gatita. We have work to do.”

“Yes, Master.” The woman with vibrant blue eyes took his hand and rose.

And Josie was losing control of the situation. No. No, she wasn’t going to get pressured into a…chat. She set her hands on her hips. “Listen, Master Holt, I’m an employee here and not at your beck and call for a chat or a scene or anything.”

His expression didn’t change, as if her words had hit a shield and bounced off. “No scene. Merely a chat—an honest one.”

“Honest? You?” Her laugh came out bitter. As she turned her back on him, her gaze ran right into Master Z’s. Oh…damn.

A bartender’s personal life was never supposed to affect her work. Talk about unprofessional. She pulled in a breath. “Can I get you a drink, Sir?”

Master Z studied her for a long, uncomfortable moment. “As an employee, you are not required to participate in any activity here. However, you did—and there appears to be a problem.”

“No, there—”

He kept talking. “A submissive may always say no to a scene—or any advances, for that matter. However, if a Master wishes to discuss a problem, especially one related to a session in the Shadowlands, you are required to listen and be respectful.”

She stared at him in dismay. Seriously?

Running straight for the exit would be immature. Still… Note to self: No more scenes in this place. Ever. Then again, since she’d sworn off men, that shouldn’t be a problem, right?

Aaaaand, her boss was still waiting for her response. How someone could be both reasonable and terrifying, she didn’t know. He sure hadn’t left her any choice. It seemed she’d be talking with Holt. Fine. “Of course, Master Z. I’ll listen and be respectful,” she said ever so politely.

His lips quirked.

Oh, he thought this was funny? Jaw tight, she turned. “Master Holt. If you wish to speak with me, I’m ready.”

“Very good.” His steel-blue eyes held no amusement.

When she moved from behind the bar, he led the way to two chairs at the far edge of the lawn. “Sit, please.”

Stiffly, she settled onto one chair. “Well?” She lifted her eyebrows.

He took the other chair and leaned forward with his forearms on his thighs. His gaze slowly ran over her face, down her body, and back to her face in a measuring look rather than a sexual one. “You’re angry with me. Tell me why.”