Just like old times.

"h.e.l.lo, Mother. I'd like to introduce my boyfriend, Wyatt Callahan. Wyatt, this is my mother, Bethany Sapphire"

Wyatt stepped forward and offered his hand. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am."

Mich.e.l.le's mother barely brushed his fingers with her own then gave Wyatt her trademark freeze-your-b.a.l.l.s-off smile. "Welcome to our home, Wyatt. Please, won't you come in?"

They walked into the grand foyer and Mich.e.l.le took a quick glance around. The study off to the left had been redone, but it looked like the parlor hadn't been changed since Mich.e.l.le last visited. Her mother was constantly redecorating the house as if by changing the wallpaper she could similarly change her marriage.

As they made their way to the party out back Mich.e.l.le's mother and Wyatt kept up a steady stream of small talk.

Once they reached the back porch, Wyatt stopped and whistled. "Well, this isn't like any barbecue I've been to back in Texas."

Mich.e.l.le slid a possessive hand into his, giving all the b.i.t.c.hes nearest to them a blatant 'hands-off-mine' glare. She could see the bored, rich, wives drinking him in and practically drooling all over themselves. Then the younger set, the ones who treated s.e.x like something as casual as blowing your nose, followed the gaze of the older women and she saw more than one woman suck her stomach in.

Giving her a tight smile, her mother said, "Mich.e.l.le, darling, go fetch your father."

She glanced at her mother and tried to think of a reason she should stay here instead of leaving Wyatt alone with the b.i.t.c.h. "Are you sure I won't be interrupting something? You know how Dad gets when he's talking business."

"He made me promise to let him know the moment you arrived. So go run along and let him know you're here."

Wyatt gave her hand a squeeze. "I'll wait here for you."

She reluctantly removed her hand from his grip, leaned up and kissed him leaving a big red lipstick mark on his cheek. "I'll be right back."

Wyatt chuckled when Mich.e.l.le's mother asked one of the pa.s.sing servants to get a napkin so Wyatt could clean himself.

After getting stopped a dozen times to say h.e.l.lo to someone, Mich.e.l.le finally found her dad sitting on the back patio looking out at the last of the sunset over Lake Michigan. She took a deep breath of the fresh lake air, recalling fond memories of going out on boats with her brothers when they were teenagers and smoking pot while hanging out on the lake. Things had been so much simpler when her only goal in life was to have fun.

She spotted her father, a tall, distinguished man with a full head of dark hair threaded with silver at the temples and back. He had a commanding presence, and she wasn't surprised to see him surrounded by people listening to his every word. With a smile he gestured with his half-full gla.s.s of scotch, his booze of choice, and spotted her watching him.

"If it isn't the most beautiful girl in the world!"

"Dad, stop that." She grinned at him and eagerly accepted his hug as he came forward. "Dad, my date's alone with Mom."

He stiffened, then turned and set his gla.s.s down. Looking back to the crowd he turned on the charisma. "Ladies and gentlemen, if you'll forgive me, I have to go meet my daughter's boyfriend."

There was some good natured laughter and Mich.e.l.le let out a sigh of relief as they left. "You don't think she'll say anything mean, do you?"

Her father gave her a bleak look and they walked faster. "Well, it all depends. If she's sucking up to him she'll be as sweet as pie. If she feels like he's beneath her, she'll let him know it."

"Dad, you promised me you would talk to her. That's the only reason I came today."

"I did talk to her, or at least I tried to. You know she would listen to a serial killer before she'd listen to me." He looked incredibly weary for a moment, his true age showing. "If there needs to be damage control I'll do it."

Wyatt counted to twenty a twice a before he could answer Mrs. Sapphire's question. What came out of his mouth wasn't exactly PC, but then again, Mrs. Sapphire hadn't bothered with niceties when she asked him if he was with Mich.e.l.le to get her money. If it had been anyone but Mich.e.l.le's mother he would have ripped her up one side and down the other, but they were in a public place, and the last thing he wanted to do was embarra.s.s Mich.e.l.le.

He looked Mrs. Sapphire in the eye and said as calmly as possible, "No, I'm not with Mich.e.l.le for her money."

"Oh please, Wyatt. Don't bother lying to me. Mich.e.l.le's a spoiled b.i.t.c.h and we all know it. Only money would make anyone put up with her. If you'll walk away, I'll pay you ten thousand dollars to never see her again."

"Are you f.u.c.king kidding me?"

Mrs. Sapphire placed one of her hands against her chest in an overly theatrical offended gesture. "You can't talk to me like that. You may have fooled Mich.e.l.le, but you haven't fooled me. I know your type."

He took a step closer, unable to help himself. "You know, some people are together because they love each other, not because it's profitable. But then again, you wouldn't know anything about that. And if you ever call Mich.e.l.le a b.i.t.c.h in front of me again, I'll personally toss you into that big lake."

"How dare you." Her blue eyes, so like Mich.e.l.le's, widened in true shock but he noticed she didn't raise her voice enough for anyone to overhear.

"No, lady. How dare you? I don't know why you're trying to break Mich.e.l.le and I up, but I can a.s.sure you that while your daughter may deserve a h.e.l.l of a lot better guy than I am, she chose me and I'm not going anywhere. I love your daughter with all my heart, and I pity you for becoming so cold that you'd try to do this to her. Didn't you see how depressed she was? Didn't you ever notice that since Owen's death she's been living with one foot in the grave? She's finally living again and there is no way I'm letting you hurt her."

"Hurt her? I'm trying to protect her," Mrs. Sapphire said in an angry whisper.

"From what?"

"From men like you who will break her heart," she spat out then flushed as a few party goers looked her way. Gathering herself, she gave him a smile as fake as a three dollar bill. "Do you think I haven't tried to set her up with appropriate young men? Do you think I haven't done everything I can to help her heal? I love my daughter, very much."

Truth rang out in her words and Wyatt ran his hand through his hair. "So do I and I will do anything to make Mich.e.l.le happy."

"You are not the right man for her and you cannot give her what she needs."

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This was Mich.e.l.le's mother. Uber c.u.n.t that she was, he had to admit she had a right to be concerned about her daughter. He had no job, PTSD, and really nothing to offer Mich.e.l.le other than his battered heart. If he had a daughter he'd be just as protective, but a little less harsh. Or at least he liked to think he would. Either way, the last thing Mich.e.l.le needed to see was him fighting with her mother.

"Look, can we just start over? All I'm asking you to do is give me a chance to prove how much I love your daughter. I swear to you I would never hurt her." He held her gaze, willing her to see his sincerity.

Her mother leaned into him and he noticed for the first time that her pupils were pinpoints and the scent of alcohol hung heavy on her breath. After studying her closer he was pretty sure she was drunk or high on something, but Mich.e.l.le had never mentioned her mother having a drinking or drug problem. In fact, she'd once said that she wished her mother would get wasted, that it might help dissolve the stick up her a.s.s. Well, it looked like Mrs. Sapphire was indeed under the influence, but the stick remained intact.

"You men," Mrs. Sapphire said in a voice that reminded him of a hissing cat, "are all alike. You think that you can promise a woman the moon and stars, but as soon as you get bored you're off sniffing after another s.l.u.t."

He jerked back, surprised at both the abrupt change of subject and the vehemence in her whisper. "I've never cheated on Mich.e.l.le and I never will. It's not in my nature."

She laughed and patted his cheek with an icy smile. "My dear boy, you must take me for an idiot. All men cheat, it is your nature. I just wonder how long you'll put up with Mich.e.l.le before you go sniffing around for a piece of tail on the side without so many issues. You don't have what it takes to make my daughter happy. Don't try lying to me, I know your type."

Shocked by the venom coming from such a stately looking woman, he gaped at her. "My type?"

"Yes, your type. You managed to blind Mich.e.l.le to your true intent with your good looks and easy smile, your charm, but I see you for who you really are. A gold digger trying to worm your way into Mich.e.l.le's fortune. We both know she's flawed, that she has issues that would drive any man away, and the only reason you put up with her is for your own financial gain. No man would endure Mich.e.l.le without some kind of ulterior motive. She isn't perfect, she's weak and flawed, and it's only a matter of time before you leave her. If you have any sense of honor you would leave my house, pack your bags, and never bother Mich.e.l.le again."

The urge to choke some sense into that evil b.i.t.c.h made his hands itch, but he had to remind himself where they were, and who she was. The thought of Mich.e.l.le growing up with such a crazy, manipulative c.u.n.t for a mother made his heart hurt for his beloved Domina. No wonder she found it so hard to let herself love him.

He took a deep breath, then another, trying to get ahold of his anger before he triggered. Not that he was worried about having a flashback. No, he was worried about losing his temper and cussing out Mrs. Sapphire in front of over two hundred people, those near them now watching their whispered conversation with interest. Though most of their audience watched them with carefully blank expressions, there were a few women here and there who had almost gleefully malicious smirks curving their perfectly lipsticked mouths.

So instead of telling Mrs. Sapphire what a total f.u.c.king c.u.n.t she was, he said in a low voice, "I pity you."

Anger mixed with surprise lined the features of her still beautiful face, deepening the lines around her mouth and eyes, making her look closer to her true age. "You what?"

"I pity you. I pity you for pushing your daughter away, for denying yourself her love. I pity you that you feel you have to hurt everyone around you because you're hurting inside. I pity you that you've managed to make such a gentle, loving, amazing woman as your daughter remove herself from your life as much as possible to avoid your venom. You have no idea what Mich.e.l.le is really like. You have no idea what an amazing woman she is, what she's survived, and for that, I pity you."

He turned, needing to walk away from Mrs. Sapphire and cool down, but as soon as he did he saw Mich.e.l.le practically running through the crowd with an older man at her heels. As soon as Wyatt saw him, he knew this was Mich.e.l.le's father. They had a similar bone structure, and the slightly horrified look on Senator Sapphire's face let Wyatt know that he wasn't hiding his disgust as well as he thought. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward to meet them and held his arms open, pulling Mich.e.l.le into his embrace and giving her a sound kiss on the lips, not giving a f.u.c.k who was watching. This was his woman, he loved her, and he didn't give a d.a.m.n who knew it.

Mich.e.l.le searched his face with a worried look, then gently rubbed her lipstick from his mouth with her thumb. "Are you okay? What did my mom say to you?"

He debated telling her the truth, that her mother was a complete c.u.n.t, but decided against it. His Domina had enough to deal with at the moment so instead he smiled and gently stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. "We're good. We just had a difference of opinion over something."

Mich.e.l.le opened her mouth, no doubt to argue with him, so he cut her off by moving her to his side, keeping an arm around her waist while he extended his hand to her father. "Senator Sapphire, nice to meet you, sir."

Senator Sapphire took Wyatt's hand and gave him a firm, practiced shake, his jovial smile sliding back into place. It was faintly disturbing to see how easily Mich.e.l.le's father hid his emotions and Wyatt wondered if Mich.e.l.le had learned how to mask her feelings from him. "Wyatt, so good to meet you. I hope you're enjoying the party so far."

Looking down at Mich.e.l.le as she gazed up at him with a worried frown turning down her lips he kissed her forehead. "As long as your daughter's with me, I'm having a good time."

Her brilliant smile lightened his heart. "Flatterer."

Putting just a bit of heat into his grin, he winked at her. "It's not flattery if it's true."

Mich.e.l.le swayed in Wyatt's arms as the band played into the night, the music floating across the soft waves of the lake. Wyatt had been charming all night, but she still studied him for signs of strain. Meeting your beloved's parents was a tense situation in the first place, but having to deal with her mother was a whole different story. When she'd seen them talking earlier, rage screamed from every inch of Wyatt's body, and she wanted to kill her mother for upsetting him. Wyatt wouldn't say what her mother had said to him, but Mich.e.l.le knew her mom well enough to know it had probably been something cruel and hurtful. It would certainly fit her record with Mich.e.l.le's boyfriends. Anyone she didn't approve of she ran off. The only man she hadn't been able to get rid of was Owen, and now, Wyatt. While it made her proud that Wyatt hadn't been scared off, she still hated that he had to deal with the sharp side of her mother's tongue.

As if meeting her parents wasn't stressful enough, chatting up all the high ranking military personnel who attended had made even Mich.e.l.le nervous. h.e.l.l, she wasn't immune to gazing in awe at a General and thinking about all the things he had to accomplish to earn his stars. There were lots of high powered people at this party, yet Wyatt outshone them all.

Handsome didn't even begin to describe her man. He was utterly breathtaking. More than once she had to hide a small smile as some random woman swooned when Wyatt shook her hand and called her ma'am. Who'd have ever thought that such a simple word could make so many grown women giggle and flirt?

While her mother seemed immune to Wyatt's considerable charms, her father had been genuinely happy to meet Wyatt and tried to talk politics until Mich.e.l.le subtly elbowed her dad in the ribs. At least, she was going to pretend it was subtle. Wyatt had to cover his mouth as he coughed in a way that sounded strangely like a laugh. When she gave him a narrow-eyed look, he grinned at her, as unrepentant as could be.

James was a bad influence on him. After hanging out for hours together modeling for Yuki's next big sculpture they'd become really close. It made her tear up to see how happy James was now that Wyatt was around. She realized that in her own selfish grief she'd failed to notice how lonely James was. But Wyatt knew; he had some kind of sixth sense when it came to people who needed him. It was annoying when he used it on her, but Yuki said James had talked with Wyatt about his sister who pa.s.sed away, something he never did, and Mich.e.l.le had to admit she was really happy Yuki and James approved of Wyatt. In many ways they were more like her true family than her blood relatives.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

She turned fully and laced her arms around his neck. "You're amazing."

He flushed and gave her a bemused grin. "Not that I'm going to argue with you on that point, but why am I particularly awesome at the moment?"

Twirling her fingers in his hair, thinking it was already time for another trim, she shrugged. "When I first brought you home with me I pictured a different relationship between us. More of a traditional twenty-four/seven-type thing."

"Like me being in submissive mode twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week?"

"Mmhhmmm, yes. Something more a formal a a Mistress/slave relationship rather than a romantic one. I'm glad we didn't."

"Have you done that before? Had a full-time slave?"

"Yes." A shadow of pain moved through her heart and she forced her mind to not think about all the times she'd danced with Owen out here.

His gaze softened even as something resembling jealousy flashed through it. "And how am I amazing for not living up to your expectations?"

"Because you didn't allow me to box you into a role that doesn't fit you. Eventually you would have chaffed beneath the constant collar of my dominance and I would have lost you."

"Mich.e.l.le, I'll never leave you."

Her heart melted for him and she nodded. "I know. You're mine, Wyatt. Heart and soul. Just like I'm yours."

"I lo..."

A loud, jarring series of small explosions suddenly went off a and Wyatt lost it.

"Everybody down!" he yelled and took Mich.e.l.le to the ground with him, hovering over her body.

Terror raced through her as, for one brief moment, she was transported back to Afghanistan, holding his intestines in place and praying like she'd never prayed before that he would live. He had to live. She'd die without him.

"Stay still, Doc. They'll call in an air strike."

His voice penetrated her own panic. She took a deep breath, grabbed him by the back of his head and forced his wild gaze to meet hers. "Wyatt, baby, we're in the United States, in my parents' backyard. That was probably my rotten nephews setting off fireworks over the lake."

"What?"

She tightened her grip on his hair, hoping the pain helped reach him. "We are at a party, in my parents' backyard, in the States, in the middle of the dance floor."

His gaze cleared, then he pushed off of her as if she'd caught fire, but she grabbed his shirt and pulled him back to her, giving him a fierce kiss. "Always my hero."

His lips were unresponsive beneath hers, and when he helped her stand, she could feel the humiliation rolling off of him. People stood around them and whispered. Mich.e.l.le knew how to harden her heart to their snide glances, but Wyatt was being cut to ribbons by them. The urge to protect him overwhelmed her. She opened her mouth to tell him that she loved him, but caught sight of her father walking towards them with a very embarra.s.sed young man covered in what looked like chocolate cake. Her dad also had some chocolate cake on his jacket, and she wondered what the h.e.l.l was going on.

"Wyatt," her dad called out, "nothing a father likes more than to see a man who would die to protect his daughter."

Wyatt slowly thawed next to her, just enough that she could feel his hurt and it arced through her body as though it was her own. She did the only thing she could to help Wyatt right now, which was to take the attention off of him. "Dad, what happened to you?"

"Come on inside and I'll tell you. You too, Wyatt. I want to show you some embarra.s.sing pictures of when Mich.e.l.le was in junior high and decided to shave one side of her head. Her mother just about had a heart attack over it."

"Dad!" Mich.e.l.le gasped, horrified by the thought of Wyatt seeing her during that incredibly awkward phase when parts of her body seemed to be growing at different times and in separate growth spurts, even as she silently thanked her dad for being so smooth.

They followed her father into the house and down a series of hallways until they reached his private study. Mich.e.l.le had spent many hours here as a child, reading on one of the huge, ancient leather couches flanking the door that invited sleep. The room even smelled the same a books, the faint hint of furniture polish and a ghost of pipe smoke still flavoring the air. She relaxed and followed the men inside. Now that she was looking at the young man with her father, she could see that he was even more embarra.s.sed than Wyatt. He looked positively mortified and there had been a samurai sword on the wall, she was sure the guy would have tried to commit hara-kiri.

Her dad opened one of the drawers in his desk and pulled out a set of hand towels. He was notorious for knocking over his coffee cup, and the housekeepers had given up and made sure he had his own cleaning supplies. After handing the young man one, he stripped off his jacket and sighed. "Wyatt, Marshall, I sincerely apologize for the fireworks. I made it very clear that I did not want them at this party, but I'm afraid my sons don't beat their children enough and the kids brought some with them to shoot off over the lake. I'll make sure they get taken behind the woodshed and whipped for this."

Wyatt stiffened for a moment before Mich.e.l.le squeezed his hand and laughed. "Easy there, Dad. Wyatt doesn't know your twisted sense of humor yet."

Her dad gave his trademark charming smile and she knew he was putting on a show for the other men. While he could fool most people, he couldn't fool her. He was worried and Mich.e.l.le prayed he wouldn't say anything to hurt Wyatt. Her father could be a bit overprotective of her; she'd heard from more than one boyfriend about his you-better-not-hurt-my-little-girl lectures.

"Wyatt's fine." He turned to look directly at Wyatt. "He has nothing to be ashamed of."

"Yeah," the young man spoke up as he tried to dab the chocolate frosting off of his dark navy coat. "He didn't just tackle a Senator and almost get his a.s.s shot by the same Secret Service that he's trying to get a job with."

The young man flushed, but her father laughed. "Don't worry. I'll talk to your director and let him know how impressed I was that you would lay down your life for me after shadowing my detail for only two days. By the way, Mich.e.l.le and Wyatt, this is Marshall. He recently retired from the Army after a deployment in Afghanistan and is thinking about working for the Secret Service. His father is Major General Schwartz, a good friend of mine."

Out of the corner of her eye she watched Wyatt take in the situation and a small change came over him. He stood taller and some of his embarra.s.sment drained away as he faced Marshall. "Welcome home, and thank you for your service."

"Thank you. I read your military file. Errr...d.a.m.n, I probably shouldn't have said that." Marshall flushed and Mich.e.l.le marveled at how young the man was; it shocked her to realize that she was getting older, as stupid as that sounded. "Anyways, you went through some crazy s.h.i.t and managed to make it out alive."

"Don't worry, I know my background would have been checked out. And the only reason I made it out was because of some really good doctors." He gave Mich.e.l.le such a warm look that she practically melted into a puddle at his feet. G.o.d, she loved him.

She shook her head and tried to frown, but her lips kept curving into a smile. "Why is it when you come in complaining about a sore toe I'm the evil b.i.t.c.h who will only give you Motrin, but when you're dying all of a sudden we're good doctors?"

Mich.e.l.le's dad took a seat behind his desk. "You know, just because my daughter saved your life doesn't mean you have to put up with her."