Chapter 16

Zane swallowed a sigh and pushed himself out of his chair. "How about if we go out on the porch. We can watch the rain from there. It's covered so we won't get wet. Rain always used to make me feel better."

When I was a kid and not a wreck of a person.

Dara gave him a skeptical look, but when he waved at the porch, she headed toward the door. The air had a clean, fresh smell to it, the kind that rain always brought with it. Zane wished the storm could cleanse his brain the way it did the landscape. He took Dara's hand, feRafeng the fragility of the bones. It was a wonder the wind out on the bay hadn't just blown her away.

He was careful not to hold her hand too tight. He was at a loss how to proceed because he had no idea what things he might do that would send frightening signals to her. He closed his eyes in an effort to center himself and bam! Out of the blue, an image of Dara, naked, snapped into his brain. She was on her knees, head bowed, her rich sable hair falling over her face, hands behind her back, bound with a silken rope. Clothespins, instead of jewelry, were attached to her nipples that had turned a deep-rose color. Her ankles were bound, also, and a cord linked the bindings of wrists and ankles. A satin cloth served as a blindfold.

He saw himself in front of her, nude,

Fucking damn!

In an instant, his cock, which had been dormant for weeks now, swelled to a painful state of arousal and an aching feRafeng surged through his balls. In one hand he held a flogger with a thick handle and multiple tails of the softest leather. His fist clenched in automatic reflex and he forced the image from his brain. With the frightening scars on her body, he was pretty damn sure Dara would not be receptive to flogging of any kind.

Flogging of any kind? Get your head out of your ass, Zane. She wouldn't be receptive to anything. Fate was playing evil tricks on him. For the first time in days, he hadn't thought about the goatfuck in Afghanistan or relived the bloody scene of the ambush. The desire to be with a woman in a scene gripped him with unexpected suddenness, and the woman he wanted was so far off limits, she might as well be sheltered behind a brick wall.

Well, fuck it all.

He wanted a beer more than he wanted his next breath but he didn't need to cloud his brain or smother his common sense with more drinking. He reminded himself his entire focus had to be on Dara, her history, and what to do with her.

"Dara." He cleared his throat. "Do you have family you can go home to?"

"No." Again her voice was so soft, he had to strain to hear her answer.

"None at all?" Even he had family, although he'd distanced himself from them, not wanting to subject them to his nightmares or the fucked up person he was at the moment.

There was a long pause before she spoke again.

"They were killed in a car accident five years ago."

"That's when you met your Dom," he guessed. He wondered if she'd always been this subdued. It sure made her a prime target for men like the one she'd been with.

"He helped me."

Yeah, I'll just fucking bet he did.

"How did you meet him?"

I, uh, was dating a guy who took me to a private club. I met Sir there and he took me home with him." She paused. "And kept me."

Zane wanted to ask just how all that came about, but he sensed she didn't want to share any details. This guy had to be a real piece of work to prey on a woman who was in such emotional turmoil. He guessed she'd had latent submissive tendencies and the visit to the dungeons had unlocked the door to them. How unfortunate for her that the man who offered her the security she'd been seeking turned out to be more of an abuser than a real Dom. Somehow, he'd find the name of the club where they'd met, talk to the owner or manager, and make sure this guy never got his hands on a victim again.

"He said he would take care of me." The pain that laced her words told him the story more than anything she said.

Zane sat in the Adirondack chair and pulled her tense body into his lap. Every part of him was focused on driving away her fear, on making her feel safe.

Then he'd better send that message to his dick, which was singing a loud chorus of "I Want You to Want Me."

He pulled in the frayed edges of his control.

"You can relax, Dara. I'm not going to hurt you. God knows I'm too much of a mess myself."

He stroked her back with the lightest touch, just as he'd done inside the cottage. They sat there for the longest time, neither of them speaking, just listening to the rain beat down and watching the swirl of whitecaps out in Estero Bay. She was so tense he was sure with just the slightest pressure she'd fracture, but as they sat there little by little her posture began to ease. With great care, he pulled her a little tighter to his body, telling himself he was making a huge mistake, but he seemed unable to fight the way he was drawn to her.

Unbidden the image that invaded his head earlier blasted into place again. This time, instead of a flogger, he held an ultraviolet wand in his hand. Dara was still on her knees, but rather than bindings around her ankles, her bound wrists were attached to a collar that circled her neck.

"Do you live here all the time?"

The question startled him, coming out of nowhere the way it did.

"To tell the truth, I don't live here at all. It belongs to a friend. He's lending it to me."

More silence.

"You don't like being around people." It was a statement, not a question.

He gave a rough little laugh. "Not these days I don't."

"So, you aren't happy being around me." Her voice might be low but it cut straight to his gut.

"That's not what I said." He wanted to scream in frustration. Instead, he took in a calming breath and chose his words carefully. He had no idea what words might be triggers for her or would set her off in one direction or another.

"This is different. This is an emergency situation. I might want isolation, but I'd never turn my back on someone who needed help."

More silence. Zane kept stroking her back, aware she continued to relax under his touch. He'd learned early on that being a good Dom also meant taking very good care of a sub in all kinds of situations.

"I could make you feel better about this."

He might have been more excited about the offer if the situation was a lot different and his mind wasn't so fucked up.

"Dara, I don't think that's such a good idea. Especially under the circumstances."

She looked at him through lowered lashes "Maybe this is what I need to show me all Doms aren't the same."

Before he could stop her, she slid from his lap and dropped to her knees between his legs. Her slender fingers reached for the fly of his jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping before he had a chance to stop her. The next thing he knew, she had his cock free and her lips closed around it. She had barely stroked her tongue over him when he clasped her head between his hands and drew her away from him. The hardest thing he'd ever done.

She looked up at him, both puzzled and frightened. Sweet Jesus, give him the wisdom to handle this right.

"You don't like that? Oh. God. Am I doing it wrong for you?" The fear was back in her eyes again and etched on her face. The sudden tension in her body was visible.

"You're doing it just fine, Dara." More than fine, as a matter of fact. "But you don't owe me anything, and I don't expect anything of you."

"No?" She gave him a quizzical look. "But I thought - "

"I know what you thought, and you're way off base. You don't owe me anything. Don't have to perform any services. Don't - "

"But what if I want to?" she interrupted.

Zane stared at her. "You don't even know me. Know anything about me. I could be an axe murderer for all you know."

A tiny smile curved her lips, the first sign of joy he'd seen from her. "An axe murderer would have left me in the middle of the bay to drown."

"But - "

"Besides. There's something about you..." She cocked her head and studied him. "You aren't like...him. Or other men I've met with him. You're different. You make me feel different."

She's just doing this because she feels grateful. She's doing it because the Dom she's been with is a primo asshole and I'm probably the first male who's been decent to her in five years. I need to keep it in my pants.

But that was going to prove impossible since Dara already had it out of his pants and was giving it more than its share of attention.

"Please let me do this," she begged. "I think it's the first time I've really wanted to for a long time."

And that struck hard at his core. He would just have to make this work. For both of them. At least, when he got her back to shore, she'd have one pleasurable experience with a Dom to carry with her.