The Dom with the Dragon Tattoo (Masters of Submission #5)(33)
My dearest Master, yesterday, the day you asked me to become your wife, was the most wonderful day of my life, and despite me writing this letter, I’m so glad I got to share that perfect day with you. I know if we’d become man and wife, you would have shown me many things, but because I love you so much, I have to let you go.
Be safe, be happy, but above all remember I will always love you so very much. Have a wonderful life.
With all my love, Rebecca.
“This is the address, senhor.” The cab driver’s broken English announced his arrival.
Tyler glanced across the street at the low-level property. It looked like a thousand other beachfront houses. White stucco walls, with landscaped gardens.
In irritation, he dragged a hand across his face, feeling the stubble rasp beneath his fingertips. Fuck, it was hot, probably more than a hundred degrees. Three weeks ago today, he’d woken to find Rebecca gone and just a handwritten note to take her place. The waking nightmare had continued until he’d been given this address by the private investigator he’d hired at considerable cost.
He shook his head. Was it really only three weeks since Rebecca had left without a word? Shit, he still felt so f*cking angry, but he felt compassion, too. Each day seemed a lifetime without his Becca and he missed her so badly, he’d hardly slept in all that time. The icy chill that had gripped his heart when he’d discovered her letter lying on the pillow next to him still remained. Tyler glanced across at the unassuming property again. He had every right to be angry, but he also understood her reasons for leaving, even if they were totally f*cked up.
Tyler slid the letter back in its envelope then put it in his flight bag and zipped it up. Typical f*cking woman. Didn’t she realize that his happiness was linked to her? He still loved her. That was why he’d proposed to her at the lake. Why the f*ck hadn’t she confided in him? Was he that much of an ogre? But sneaking away without a word, after they’d made love three times that night, was unacceptable behavior, and when he finally caught up with her, she would be severely disciplined.
As if reliving the whole sorry episode again, Tyler clenched his fists into hardened balls of steel. How dare she disrespect her Master by leaving like that?
It had taken a private detective nineteen days to find her. Nineteen f*cking days of wondering if she were dead or alive. Rebecca was an intelligent woman and had made herself hard to find. Mark Johnson, the PI he’d hired to track her down, had eventually traced her to this very address, in Ponta Negra, Maricá, a largely unnoticed municipality north of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.
Completely shattered and in need of sleep after the eleven-hour flight from Houston Intercontinental Airport, Tyler decided to get some rest and a shower at a local hotel before returning. He needed to be more in control of his emotions than he was at present. If only this godforsaken country wasn’t so f*cking hot.
He tapped the cab driver on his shoulder. “Take me to the best hotel in Rio.”
“Sim, senhor.”
Chapter Eighteen
Rebecca strolled aimlessly along the beautiful sandy beach, her thoughts with Tyler as always. The cooler evening wind whipped the hair against her face, stinging her cheeks.
Melancholia was her constant companion now, and she breathed in the salty sea air as she took in the golden sands stretching out to infinity. At least down here in Ponta Negra, she felt more in tune with herself. During her course of chemotherapy, which started when she was ten years old, she’d often visit this very beach with her nurse as part of her treatment. She’d longed for her mother to take her, but Sophia Miles always seemed to have far more pressing engagements to attend. As a child, it had raised her spirits when she’d seen the Atlantic Ocean in all its glory. The intense chemotherapy would have been extremely debilitating for an adult woman, let alone a young girl, and she’d often become depressed, wondering if it were all worth it. The regular bouts of nausea and vomiting were particularly unpleasant. At times she hadn’t wanted to continue with the chemo, but just witnessing nature at its most powerful, had given her the will to fight on.
Now she wasn’t so sure. That was why she’d retreated to the friendly refuge from her childhood. Without Tyler, she wasn’t sure she wanted to carry on. What would be the point? No other man could ever take his place in her affections, because she would love him, and only him, until the day she died.
Damn it to hell. She wiped away a teardrop before sidestepping a huge breaker that came crashing in. The day she’d left Tyler had been the worst day of her life. It had almost destroyed her to leave him sleeping peacefully, especially after he’d repeatedly told her how much he loved her and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.
Her hand had trembled with emotion, and tears had streamed down her cheeks as she had written her farewell letter. Rebecca calmed herself with the knowledge that eventually he would find a woman who could give him what he needed and deserved—unconditional love and children. She just wished it could have been her.
The fine sand felt warm beneath her bare feet, and it scrunched agreeably between her toes as she made her way up the beach toward her villa. Thanks to her privileged upbringing and education, she spoke fluent Portuguese, and therefore had no difficulty renting the modest, yet comfortable beach house for the next three months. God alone knew what she would do after that, because she didn’t have a clue. Without Tyler to guide her, an unhappy rudderless existence lay ahead. She was angry with herself for being so goddamned unprofessional. She’d left Cerberus Technology without even completing the project she’d been hired to do. That was unforgivable of her. She’d let herself and her team down, and she had no illusions that Tyler wouldn’t be angry with her. Leaving an important project unfinished would only have pissed him off more.