Maybe it was because she was sitting on the stage, and she had always experienced a shift there, as if she'd stepped into a world where the dramatic and unexpected were more acceptable. She inhabited a world of quirky people who could be infected with that same virus when they were close to a stage. Things that would seem over the top and out of place outside the theater were just the standard within it.

Or maybe there was an entirely different reason he'd caught her off guard.

Her pulse thudded against her throat as his gaze held hers. If she'd doubted the Dom thing before, she didn't now. His captivating voice was a low croon, close to a growl, a thrumming note that her body answered with a hard quiver, coming from those chambers that were suddenly wide open to him.

"Sometimes women get self-conscious about the way their bodies look when they're tied up," he said in a deceptively conversational way. "Like when I tie an ankle to a thigh, and they think the thigh looks too spread out, or the flesh of their stomach is squeezed between two wraps."

His hands slid along her thighs, back toward her knees, a short, intimate stroke. "The things I could do with these thighs," he murmured. He lifted his gaze to hers, and she discovered his eyes could look like a new penny caught in the rain. "When we first meet one another, we're sh.e.l.ls. The sh.e.l.l might be pretty, but what I learn about you when I bind you will take me to what's deep beneath that. I suspect your eyes will look like heated mola.s.ses when you're aroused."

His gaze slid down. "Your nice b.r.e.a.s.t.s would become a pillow, where I'd rest my head and listen to your heartbeat, because when I tie you up, your submissive nature will rise. You'll want to give me that gift, lie still to serve my needs and desires, because I think your instinct is toward care and compa.s.sion, serving a Master's needs beyond his c.o.c.k or o.r.g.a.s.m."

His gaze slid back up. "When I uncover that instinct, that's when the sh.e.l.l completely vanishes and I'll know just how beautiful you are."

"You don't really see someone until you see their soul," she said, surprised she could even form words, let alone try to sound like she was reacting to his words as if he were giving her an instructional lecture, not a personal mandate.

"Exactly. That matters way more than what I see in a two-dimensional way. It's the best way for you to get to know me better, too." He moved back, though his hand whispered along her knee, a hint of how he could touch her. Maybe would touch her. "Like just now. When I was talking about tying you in rope, and things were all quiet and intense, were you seeing the skinny guy with questionable taste in second hand clothes, or did you feel the touch of a broad-shouldered G.o.d hung like a moose?"

She burst out laughing, as she was sure he'd intended, for his eyes sparkled with humor. The laughter brought a rush of good feeling, that sense of ease again, which had a peculiar reaction with things that weren't at ease at all, but on full, antic.i.p.atory alert around him. "Maybe something in between. d.a.m.n, you're good."

"I'm good because I'm honest." She saw that flash of sincerity, the hint of dead seriousness, the gleam in his eyes that said he would do all of that and more to her if she opened the door. What's more, he'd proven he could do it in less than a blink. The realization stole her smile and her breath at once, leaving her reeling.

"You have my contact info," he said, shouldering his pack again. "Ball's in your court, Julie. But I'll be ready to hold onto it when you send it back. All right?"

The look he had upon her now expected-maybe demanded-an answer.

Though an innate part of him, Marcus's Dom qualities always had a deliberate, calculated quality to them that was overwhelming. In contrast, this seemed second nature to Desmond Hayes, something he wasn't conscious he was doing. Remarkably, it made him even more potent to her.

"All right," she said. Was her voice breathless?

As he nodded and turned away, she had a feeling he'd registered it. The same way she'd recognized the answering heat in his eyes.

Good Lord, who was this guy?

Chapter Two.

"Okay, who the h.e.l.l is this roofing guy? Desmond Hayes," Julie added at Madison's blank look.

"Spiderman," Logan supplied. Madison's expression cleared in a blink.

"Oh, Des! Sorry. I've been dealing with so many contractors." Madison leaned back in the span of Logan's long arm. The couple were on the front porch swing at Logan's house, where the three of them were sharing an after work drink. Julie was sitting on a facing chair, shoes off and toes curled over the edge as she drew her knees up to her chest. Through the screen that protected them from the ever-present mosquitoes, she could see the manmade pond Logan had on the large rural property. The acres of surrounding open fields and forest formed a cozy cushion for the clapboard farmhouse he'd renovated.

"Des is a 360 degree experience, isn't he?" Madison asked with a chuckle. "First you just see this grungy handyman, a little on the skinny side, though those eyes are as deep as moon craters. Then he gets to talking in that voice like...it's hard to describe."

"Keep trying and you'll find yourself in all kinds of trouble," Logan advised.

Madison dimpled at him. They'd only been married a few months, and so they still had that newlywed miasma around them that could be as wondrous as it was annoying. But since Madison was the only person Julie knew who'd had a worse dating record than herself, it was hard for her to be annoyed or resentful. Just wistful.

"That's all right," Julie interjected. "I'll say it. His voice already falls into the 'drop my panties and take me now' range. Look into those brown eyes, and it's a done deal. It's a bit disconcerting. The rest of the image doesn't fit."

"Well, at first you think so. But if you ever see him do his rope work, or the way he relates to a sub, you change your mind about that."

An understatement. Julie had recalled that moment on stage a million times. Des so inappropriately close to her for a guy she'd just met, her sitting so still and captured by whatever mojo he emanated. He was like some kind of freakish Dom wizard. Who did roofing on the side.

"Earth to Julie?"

Julie snapped back to real time when Madison touched her bottle to Julie's. "Want another?"

"Yeah, maybe just one more."

Logan gripped Madison's thigh as she started to rise. "I'll go get them. You've had a long day."

"Hey, aren't Doms supposed to order their subs to wait on them?" Julie asked. "And beat them when they don't?"

Logan's brown eyes glinted. "Only if that's what turns on both Dom and sub. I only beat her when I think she needs some smacking around."

"How very redneck of you."

"Well, Doms, rednecks. It's a fine line." He kissed his wife's forehead, his large hand loosely curled in her hair, then straightened and headed back into the house.

Madison's interest in creating her theater hadn't been driven solely by her store's focus. Since meeting Logan, she'd embraced a submissive orientation that had simmered within her for years. Logan radiated Dom enough that Julie easily added him into her shadowy night fantasies. While she didn't tell Madison that, Julie rationalized her friend had no right to be mad about it, since she went to bed with the real thing every night. No need to be greedy.

Julie had nursed submissive feelings of her own for some time. Being around Marcus and Thomas, another Master and sub pairing, had only increased her fascination. Yet if she couldn't get any traction with a vanilla relationship, there was no way she'd wade into the far more complex waters of the BDSM world. But now she had a way to explore it beyond the Internet without risking herself, and combine it with her love of theater productions.

As Madison's gaze followed her husband, Julie couldn't help doing the same. The man's shoulders and a.s.s filled out a shirt and a pair of jeans just right. Anyone who thought a guy in his forties was past the prime years of his life hadn't seen Logan. For some men, middle age was when they reached their personal best. John Schneider, Robert Downey, Jr... She wondered how old Des was. It was hard to tell, he was so sunbaked and...something. He looked in his mid-twenties, and she'd never been the type of woman who wanted a man that much younger than her. Yet he'd acted with the maturity of a man closer to her own age.

Madison glanced her way, catching her in the act. "Don't be eyeing my man, ho."

"Hey, he's made from head to toe to be an eyeful. You were doing it, too, b.i.t.c.h."

"I'm allowed."

"Yes, you are. He may have a great a.s.s, but what makes me like him is what he's done for my friend." Julie sobered. "Cheers to finding the unicorn."

She'd intended to keep the comment light, but Madison caught the edge she couldn't keep out of it. Her friend's expression became kind and concerned, but Julie didn't want to go down the road of her own relationship discontent. She was working really hard on the 'suck it up and snap out of it' philosophy of life but, beyond that, she loved her friend too much to feel anything but happiness for her, and didn't want to rain on that parade.

Before she had to scramble for a distracting subject, Logan's heavy tread heralded his return with two beers for him and Madison, and an Angry Orchard hard cider for Julie.

"So how did you and Madison meet?" he asked, settling back next to his wife on the swing. He braced his long legs, keeping it in an easy rocking motion as she settled in the span of his arm again. When he asked the question, he glanced pointedly at Julie's hands. Julie shot a glare at Madison, who feigned innocence.

"Great. You told him," Julie accused. "Another marriage based on total honesty. Sister code out the window."

"She said she couldn't do it justice and that I needed to hear you tell it," Logan defended his spouse.

"They adored her at Children's Story Hour at the local branch of the Boston library," Madison supplied. "She may work behind the stage, but she could just as easily perform on it."

"b.u.t.tering me up will not save you from my ire," Julie said ominously. "Okay, I'll tell it, but if I decide to paint you as the villain, it's your own fault."

"I accept the consequences." Madison beamed at her. Julie heaved an exaggerated, put-upon sigh.

"Fine. I was getting a community theater on its feet in Boston. We met when I asked her if I could share her table in a crowded Starbuck's. She was on her laptop doing complicated financial things." Julie gave Logan a devilish look. "She looked all trim, neat and severe in her suit and heels, deceptively Dommish with her mouth tight and cheekbones all drawn in. You should have her role play it sometime."

Julie sucked in her own cheeks to demonstrate, and laughed as Madison tried to shove her with her bare foot. She was thwarted by Logan, who still controlled the back and forth motion of the swing with the pressure of his big feet on the porch boards.

"So she was on her laptop," Julie continued. "I was on my earpiece with an actor who was stomping on my last nerve. I mean, Christ on a Triscuit, it's community theater, not Broadway. When he wasn't playing our lead, he was a plumber and coaching his kid's Little League team. Anyhow, as you not-so-subtly implied," she threw another aggrieved look at Madison, "I was getting so annoyed with Pain-in-My-a.s.s Wannabe-Olivier that my hands were entering the conversation. I hit a home run."

She a.s.sumed a public service announcer's drone. "Using a hands free ear piece in your car is a good idea. Using it in a crowded Starbuck's is not." She shook her head. "Whacked her iced latte with enough force the cap came loose and the cup did a half gainer over her computer. It dowsed the keyboard, sprayed coffee all over her suit, her perfectly coiffed hair and her lovely face. Before landing in her lap."

Julie gazed at her friend fondly. "The funny thing was, when I first sat down, I thought she was one of the unhappiest people I'd ever seen. Mouth set in a permanent frown, her eyes kind of detached. I knew she was probably awesome at her job, but I thought she didn't really feel anything about it. Hadn't felt anything in a while, maybe."

Madison's gaze met hers as Logan's arm tightened around her shoulders. Yeah, he knew that about Madison's past. He'd helped make it better. As a result, Julie would be as fiercely loyal to him as La.s.sie, now and forever.

"I expected her to tear me a new one. Everyone around us sucked up all the oxygen, a horrified collective breath. I'm sure they were expecting her to freak out, just like I was. I seriously thought about throwing my card down on the table, blurting out, 'send me the bill' and bolting.

"But the most peculiar look came over her face." Julie c.o.c.ked her head, studying Madison's fine features. Looking at her now, dizzily in love, it was obvious she was a pretty woman. That day, Julie wouldn't have said so, because of all the discontent within her friend. Until she'd had coffee all over her and done what she'd done next. Which made Julie think of what Des had said about sh.e.l.ls and souls.

Stop invading my mind, freakish Dom wizard.

"I think the horror of it was so off the charts, there was no response big enough to cover it. So she went the opposite direction. She blinked three times and said in this measured, precise way: 'you missed my blueberry m.u.f.fin.' Then she smiled. That's when I thought, 'd.a.m.n, she and I are going to be awesome friends.'"

And they had been. Madison had first called her about her theater plans eight months ago, while Julie was still in New York. During the six months before Julie accepted her offer to be her managing director, she'd walked Madison through all the steps of being a production manager. Madison had met the challenge and exceeded all expectations.

In hindsight, it hadn't really surprised Julie. Madison had been a finance wizard in Boston before she came to North Carolina to take over her sister's erotic boutique, Naughty Bits. She'd made the shop hers, profiting enough that she'd decided to diversify into erotic theater. She'd also fallen in love with Logan, who was the hardware store owner next door, an astute businessman in his own right, and one with deep and vital ties in the BDSM community.

Madison had handled the capitalization of the first show, an astronomical accomplishment. She'd had an initial fundraising event at a rental s.p.a.ce in downtown Matthews that targeted BDSM lifestylers specifically, rousing their interest. As such, when Julie arrived, Madison had a volunteer list of performers and stage hands from their ranks. Lucrative donors from the BDSM community had become the angels that brought Wonder to life. Their generous checks were a confidence vote in Madison and Logan's ability to turn the theater into something that would educate audiences on what BDSM was and wasn't, while offering a satisfying and entertaining view of that dynamic.

Julie was used to having to handle the production manager end of things, in addition to a bunch of other hats, including managing director, so it was refreshing not to have to dedicate so much of her energy to fundraising. For once, she could focus on the fun part, the theater and show development, except when Madison needed her guidance on the producer's end.

Julie returned her attention to the story she'd just told of their fated meeting. Logan curled a loose lock of Madison's long hair behind her ear, leaving his fingers there to caress her neck. "She didn't tell me all that."

"You notice so much when you look at people, Julie," Madison said quietly. "You have a gift that way."

Julie shook a finger at her. "No mushy maudlin stuff. We're drinking, so we're already in the danger zone. Next thing you know we'll be crying and watching Beaches together."

"I can hold my liquor," Logan informed her.

"You'll be singing 'Baby Mine' and sobbing. I guarantee it. Anyway, to finish up the story," she said over their chuckles, "the staff brought us towels to clean up, and a bucket so we could turn the computer over and let it drain in the hopes it could be dried out and salvaged. She very politely asked if I would buy her another cup of coffee. As I was apologizing, I told her this was just the type of spastic behavior Loser Boyfriend Number Three had hated about me. She said she was up to Loser Boyfriend Number Five and, since she could tell she was younger than me, I was behind. I called her a b.i.t.c.h, she laughed, and that was that. We spent an hour talking about how many relationships we'd screwed up, splurged on a chocolate m.u.f.fin we split, and we've been friends ever since."

"It was worth the ruined computer. Though maybe not the ruined suit. I loved that outfit." This time Madison was able to poke Julie's knee with her toe since Logan had her on the upswing. Julie swatted at her bare sole with tickling fingers.

"Yeah, but you get to wear even cooler stuff at Naughty Bits." Madison still wore today's choice, a lavender gauze tunic with a lace black camisole beneath, over form-fitting leggings. She'd found an artistic side to balance her considerable business ac.u.men. It was a good look for her.

"Our friendship gave me the chance to see what I'm seeing now," Julie told her. "You've gone from the unhappy but amazing person I met that day, to this obviously happy woman actualizing herself in so many ways." Julie spread out her hands as Madison flushed. "You have this incredible store, you're starting a theater, you're married to a great guy... You won. You give me hope that the Loser trail can lead to this."

As Madison's gaze softened again, Julie told herself to stop drinking. She steered them out of dangerous Beaches water by giving Logan a lecherous look. "You know, a little Internet research is a dangerous thing. I've been looking at the polyamory sites. Any chance you're into that?"

"No, he's not," Madison said decisively.

Logan laughed. "If the two of you want to have a girl-girl scene to change my mind, I'll give it fair consideration before I say no."

Julie's phone started to ring. "Let's put a pin in that," she said with a snort. She didn't recognize the number, but considering all the contractors, crew and cast communications she was juggling right now, she wasn't going to ignore it. "h.e.l.lo?"

"Do you like orchids?"

"It depends. Who is this?" But she already knew, because that little tingle went up her spine at his voice. Logan and Madison were doing the intimate newlywed bubble, complete with brushing lips, murmured words and light touches, so Julie rose and moved to the rail.

"Why would who's on the phone change whether or not you like orchids?" he asked.

"It's irrelevant to my like or dislike of flowers. It's what strings are attached to a yes or no answer."

He chuckled. "Cynical. Hey, Julie. This is Des. I a.s.sume you know that, though."

"I can neither confirm nor deny. If I confirm, it suggests you made enough of an impression on me that I recognized your voice."

"And if you deny?"

"I only had a clever retort for Option A. For 'deny', I've got nothing."

"Let's focus on confirming then. Come with me to the Daniel Stowe Botanical Garden tomorrow morning. I like walking through the orchid garden in the Conservatory. We can do that, hang out, get a snack at their cafe. I'd have you back to your theater by noon. Harris said you work there 24/7, so I figure morning's as good as any other time."

"I have an internal leak. I'll have to plug that."

"Go easy on him. I overcame his resistance with carrot sticks."

Julie leaned against a post. She had a lot to do, but tomorrow's schedule wasn't dependent on anyone but herself, so she could work into the evening hours. Madison had been admonishing her to take a day off every once in a while. "I'll meet you there. That way if I do have to get back sooner than later, I won't cut your trip short. Okay?"

"I promise I'm not a serial killer."

"How disappointing. I've always wanted to meet one. From a safe distance, of course, and the public area of a garden would qualify."

"If I find one willing to come with me tomorrow, I'll bring him along. So that's a yes, then?"

Julie waffled, then chided herself for being a coward. "Okay, but only if you understand it means nothing. I'm really not into relationships anymore."

"That's interesting. I'll look forward to hearing why. Eight o'clock too early?"

"I'll be there."

She clicked off and turned to face her friends. "Des," she said in response to Madison's quizzical expression. "He wants me to meet him at a place called Daniel Stowe Gardens tomorrow."

"Oh, that's a nice spot. You made an impression."