"She asked me if her saying the word made me feel anything. Anything at all." Logan chuckled, a deep rumble that vibrated against her shoulder blades. "I assumed she was one of those harmless, hippie-gypsy, New Age types. I was going to say something casual, like Madison Square Garden, but the way she was looking at me . . . it made me look inside for a real answer to her question. She had a gift that way."
"Yeah, she did." It was sad, how one could say to a stranger what had grated like hell to say directly to the family member in question. An offering of love met with resentment merely because familiarity--or family--bred contempt. "So what did you say? Unless it's part of some secret code she made you promise to take to your grave."
"No." His arms constricted, as if he knew the uncomfortable swells her boat of memory was experiencing. "I said, 'It sounds like a place I'd like to visit and never leave.' Her eyes lit up as if I'd given her the key to the universe. But she didn't explain why she'd asked the question. Not then."
She dropped her hands to the counter, ran her fingers over the sandy-colored granite pattern. He shifted his arms away from her but gripped her waist again briefly, squeezing. "You ready to cut off this mop?"
"It's hardly a mop. You can take a seat in one of the kitchen chairs."
When he withdrew, she appreciated the time he gave her to collect herself before she turned and put the vase of flowers on the table. He was shrugging out of the sports coat, and she took it from him, disappearing into the back guest room to retrieve a rack and hang it up, place it by the door. When she returned, she saw he was looking at the wooden card box she'd left in the center of the table.
"I've been meaning to get that back to you," she said
"You're welcome to keep it, especially if you're finding it beneficial. Did you use it?"
"You know I did."
"Do I?"
"Yes."
His gaze on her sharpened, and he spoke softly, causing another shiver across her skin. "Where?"
It was uncanny that she'd known his main interest would be where in this house she'd followed those directions. She made herself meet his gaze, a Master's eyes.
"In the living room. On the floor." Emboldened by what was swirling through her and since he hadn't yet sat down, she sidled up to him, fingering the button on his shirt. "If I'm supposed to take mine off, seems only fair you do the same."
He caught her finger, bit it with a teasing touch of his heated tongue. "The pleasure of being a Master. I don't have to be the slightest bit fair. Stop flirting and cut my hair, woman."
"Brave words for a man letting me get close to him with scissors." She tossed her hair. "Didn't Alice tell you I gave her a mohawk when she was fourteen? Including a purple dye job? Our mother about murdered us both."
"I'll take my chances." He eyed her. "If you're angling for a spanking, you'll get far more than you bargained for. I'd beat you with a knotted rope end. It wouldn't be pleasant in the least."
On the contrary, she expected he could make it equally pleasurable and painful. Though now she was wondering how a girl went about angling for a spanking. The idea of bending over his lap made her hot all over.
She decided she'd better behave. For the moment. When he took a seat in the chair, she tucked the small hand towel under his collar and then picked up the cape and settled it around him, enjoying the act of smoothing the fabric over his broad shoulders. "Your female patrons aren't going to thank me for this. One of them calls you Fabio."
He gave her a mildly horrified look. "If I'd known that, I would have chopped it off much sooner, no matter how much Alice said you'd like it."
"She meant it as a compliment. I get a lot of interesting conversations about you in my store."
"Same goes. Want to compare?"
"Let me guess. A few suggestive grunts about my rack? An academic analysis of how much they'd like to grab my ass?"
"It's like you're reading my mind."
She chuckled. "The women are more articulate. Somewhat. It's fascinating, how so many of them pick up on your 'Master' vibe. Especially when most of them are very much beginners in that area. More feelings than knowledge."
"It's about feelings far more than knowledge," Logan reminded her.
She wasn't going to analyze that, not when she was already aroused and overwhelmed by his proximity. She decided to make a sharp right turn before the subject took her to the deep end.
"When they're shopping with other women, they're braver. They'll talk about you and Troy pretty openly. A couple of them have some interesting male/male fantasies about you."
He gave her a pained look. "You don't have to go into detail on those."