It wasn’t until Saturday afternoon that Isaac brought up the plan he’d detailed to introduce Maggie to BDSM.

  He handed her a piece of paper with the items he’d picked. “You’ll notice I only have the title of scene listed, not date. You should also be aware they aren’t in any particular order.”

  Her eyes grew big as she looked over the list.

  “Any questions?” He asked.

  “No, Sir. Not at the moment.”

  She went back to reading the paper which was fine with him because that gave him more time to watch her. He’d tossed around the idea of getting her collar. Not one like he’d offer a submissive he was in a long term relationship with, but rather a training one. He’d never collared a submissive, however, and after what amounted to hours of thinking, decided not to get a collar for Maggie. Maybe it was silly reasoning, but he didn’t want his first time collaring someone to be with a training collar.

  But when he drove her home later that afternoon, he couldn’t escape the feeling he’d made the wrong decision.

  * * *

  Wednesday night, Isaac drove to Barbara’s house so he could pick Maggie up for dinner. Or at least what she thought would be dinner. Little did she know that it would be the first of many scenes he’d listed out for her on Saturday.

  Based on what he knew about Ellis from hearing Maggie talk about him, he wasn’t surprised her checklist revealed she’d never had sex in public. That was a damn shame and one he would take care of tonight.

  He pulled into the driveway and had just put the car in park when the front door opened and Maggie came bounding down the stairs. She’d left her hair down today, or more than likely, it all escaped the hair tie she used to pull it into a ponytail. Whatever the reason, he loved watching it bounce as she made her way to his car.

  “Hi! Hi! Hi!” she called coming to stop at the passenger’s side.

  He smiled because she’d stopped and allowed him to open the car door for her. He’d told her over the weekend it was something he wanted to do when they went out together. For some reason, he’d thought she hadn’t been listening, and he was delighted to see he’d been wrong.

  He gave her a quick kiss before opening her door. “Hi yourself. Good day?”

  “Average day, I’d say,” she told him after he got back behind the wheel. “On the other hand, I’m extraordinarily happy about going out with you tonight.”

  “You are?”

  “Yes,” she said. “How does it feel knowing you can make me all giddy inside?”

  “Did you know you made me all giddy inside?”

  “I do?”

  “Yes.” He glanced to his side just long enough to confirm the even bigger smile she now wore. “It probably feels like that.”

  His day had been rather drab but then again they all felt like that since she no longer worked in the building. Funny how being in her presence for a few minutes turned drab into anything but.

  He hadn’t told her anything about what they were doing tonight and he knew her well enough to know it was killing her that she had no idea. He had to hand it to her, she hadn’t once asked for even the slightest hint.

  “It’s still early,” he said, deciding to reward her patience. “But I made reservations at a favorite restaurant of mine in the city.”

  “That sounds great,” she said. “I’m famished. Barbara and I ate lunch before noon because she had a meeting with her bridge club girls this afternoon. I got caught up working, and just now realized how hungry I am.”

  It seemed like he couldn’t stop smiling whenever he was around Maggie. Somehow, just being in her presence made everything seem brighter. And he wasn’t the only one, he’d witnessed several occasions, both with people she knew as well as strangers, that she had the same effect on.

  He pulled up to the valet station at the restaurant in what felt like no time. Before he opened the door, he turned to her. “When we step out of this car you become Margret, understand?”

  “And you become Seven-Thirty?”

  He snorted. “Yes. I become Seven-Thirty.”

  The unlikelihood of his current situation nearly had him shaking his head as he took her hand and they walked to the the maitre d’. Hell, he didn’t even mind her nickname for him. In fact, he was rather fond of it.

  In spite of the fact it was still considered early for dinner, the restaurant was a local favorite and crowds were heavy no matter the day or time.

  “Have you been here before?” he asked her once they’d been seated in a corner table he’d requested when he made the reservation.

  “No,” she replied. “I’ve always wanted to but could never get reservations.”

  “In that case, I hope everything lives up to your expectations.”

  She blushed, obviously catching the double meaning of his words. He didn’t say anything else, leaving her to ponder any unspoken clues she might have picked up on concerning his plans for the evening.

  The server came by and took their order. Maggie’s cheeks still held a bit of color and he found it difficult to look at anything other than her. With her hair freed from the confines of her ponytail, the humidity of the weather made her curls appear wilder than normal. However, what truly captivated those around her were her eyes. The low light of the restaurant paired with the romantic glow of the candles made the green sparkle more than usual.

  With their order placed and beverage glasses topped off, there was no reason for anyone to come by their table anytime soon.

  “As you may have guessed,” he said. “We’re going to play in public tonight.”

  “We are, Sir?” She looked around the room. “Isn’t that a bit advanced for me?”

  “No, it’s not because it’s not too advanced for me, and as long as you follow my directions and do exactly what I ask the way I ask, no one will be able to tell we’re doing anything other than eating dinner.”

  She bit the corner of her mouth. If he had to guess, she was struggling between trusting him and his assertion he had everything under control and her own mind that was no doubt sending a message she was crazy for even considering such a thing.

  He had to get her out of her mind.

  He leaned forward. “Slip your hand up your dress, push your panties to the side, and tell me if you’re wet.”

  She gasped, looking around as if to determine if anyone heard. They hadn’t. He knew what he was doing, and he was confident in his ability to keep what they were doing hidden from anyone else. He needed to get her to that point.

  “Now, Margaret,” he said. “Why do you think I picked a restaurant with such long tablecloths?”

  He saw the change in her expression the second she made up her mind, the slow change from turmoil to peace. Desire and excitement replaced her fear. He was so proud, he wanted to shout, but doing so wouldn’t ensure they remained hidden.

  One of Maggie’s hands drifted below the table.

  “Good girl,” he whispered. “Tell me how wet you are.”

  Her eyelids fluttered and a quiet moan escaped her lips. “I’m so wet, Sir.”

  “Show me. Without looking at anything other than me.” One way or another, he planned on taking up residence in her mind.

  Keeping her eyes locked on his, she lifted her hand up. The evidence of how turned on she was glistened in the low light.

  “Someone finds the idea of public play arousing despite her protests.” He lowered his voice even more. “Now I want you to take your panties off.”

  “Here, Sir?” she asked, but kept her gaze on him.

  “I don’t recall telling you to go somewhere else.” He held out his hand. “Take them off.”

  She didn’t hesitate, dropping both hands down to her lap this time. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted a man about their age who appeared to be walking toward them. But that couldn’t be, could it?

  So why was the man getting closer?

  “I can’t believe it,” the strange man said as he approached their table. “Maggie Warren, it is you! I haven’t seen you in years. How have you been?”

  Maggie was as surprised, if not more, than the man now standing by their table. Her cheeks flushed a deep red, but Isaac wasn’t sure if that was a result of having her hands up her skirt or because she hadn’t thought to ever run into the guy standing next to her again.

  Isaac stood to defuse any potential embarrassment on Maggie’s behalf. “Isaac Gregory,” he said, holding out his hand toward the intruder.

  “Philip Conrad,” the man said, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you.” And that was all the interest Philip had in Isaac. He turned back to Maggie. “Are you still living in the city?”

  Maggie, who still had her hands in her lap, looked to Isaac. All too late, he realized she was probably asking for permission to speak. He wanted to say she couldn’t, but that would be rude and more than likely would tip Philip off that there was more going on than dinner at their table. Reluctantly, he nodded.

  “Yes,” Maggie said. “I’m still here. Working for Barbara Murphy.”

  Philip nodded. “I know who she is. Met her once at some charity thing for a scholarship. Music, I think.”

  “That’s Barbara,” Maggie confirmed.

  Philip tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “I always wondered why you never returned my calls after that night we went out. There were rumors you were keeping to yourself and not going out anymore. I knew they couldn’t be right. Not my Maggie. It’s good to see I was right.”

  “Actually…” Maggie said, but Philip didn’t seem to hear.

  “Give me a call if you want to get together sometime,” Philip said. “Nice to meet you, Ian.”

  Isaac collected his thoughts as Philip walked away. It wasn’t a big deal they had ran into an old flame of Maggie’s. The fact she had an old flame wasn’t a big deal either. She’d never said there had been no men in her life since Ellis died; that had been an assumption on his part. Obviously, he had been wrong.

  But across the table, the color had drained from her face.

  “Maggie, is everything okay?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t know of anything you should apologize for.”

  “About six months after Ellis died, I went a little wild,” she said. “Nothing heavy like drugs or anything. But drinking and dancing, yes. I dated around, too. It’s embarrassing to think about now. I felt free and then I felt guilty and I learned if I partied enough, the guilt became easier to ignore. At least for a while.”

  “I think that sounds completely normal.” It hurt him to see her this way. She was always filled with so much joy, so much life, to see her filled with anything else made him want to pull her close and protect her from the world.

  “Word eventually made it to his parents, especially his mom,” she continued. “Until then, they had been distant and cool, but after that, they didn’t hold back how much they hated me or at least she didn’t. That’s when she started saying I’d killed him.”

  At that moment he realized it wasn’t enough to protect her from the world, he needed to slay a few dragons as well.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Maggie wasn’t sure what she’d done to have a man like Isaac in her life, but she wasn’t going to complain. He was simply amazing. Even beyond the sex god part. She’d never experienced unconditional acceptance from anyone before and at times, she still didn’t know what to make of it.

  After that horrid moment when Philip walked up to the table, right as she’d been seconds away from handing Isaac her panties, she’d known Isaac would want nothing more to do with her. She’d never been so glad to be so wrong.

  Isaac had sensed her need to get away from there, and instead of making a big production or complain about how she’d ruined dinner, he’d called the server over and asked for their food to be packed to go. He drove them to his place, where he put everything in the refrigerator, took her hand, and led her to the massive tub in his bathroom. He drew her a bath and stayed by the tub while she soaked and relaxed.

  She’d asked him to join her, but he declined saying it’d be too hard for her to relax with a cock pressed against her back. Even when she rolled her eyes and told him it wasn’t like the run-in with Philip had been that bad, he only replied with, “Let me take care of you, Maggie.”

  That was when she admitted to herself she’d fallen in love with him.

  She wasn’t sure what to do with that revelation, so she did nothing, keeping it wrapped up and hidden away from everyone.

  * * *

  Tonight was a Tuesday, and she’d left Barbara’s early because her bridge ladies were coming over for an impromptu card game/meeting. Barbara had invited her to stay, but she had a plan to surprise Isaac she’d been working on and this was the perfect day to set it up.

  He’d given her a card to his elevator and informed the lobby staff she was free to come and go as she pleased.

  She told the doorman to have a nice afternoon and had to hold herself back from skipping to the elevator. A quick scan of his penthouse confirmed he hadn’t arrived yet.

  Working quickly, she took off all her clothes, leaving them folded and in a neat pile beside the elevator. With that taken care of, she looked around for the perfect spot, knelt and waited.

  It couldn’t have been ten minutes before she heard the elevator descend to the lobby. She took a deep breath and didn’t exhale until she heard the doors open, signaling his arrival.

  She knew when he saw her from his sharp intake of breath. “If this isn’t the best welcome home I’ve ever received, I don’t know what is.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “Any particular reason?” he asked. “Or just because?”

  “Just because, Sir.” Just because I love you and don’t know how to tell you. Just because I want to thank you for being so perfect but all the words sound cheesy and inadequate.

  Just because.

  “Is that your cell phone?” he asked right as she noticed the special ring tone she’d added days ago.

  “Yes, and it’s Barbara. Probably a butt dial. Her bridge ladies are over.”

  She thought that would be the end of it, but no sooner had “Hail to the Queen” stopped than it started again. Worried, she stood. One call she could pass off as a butt dial, but two? Not likely.

  Of course, by the time she reached her phone, it had stopped. Would Barbara leave a message or try calling again? No immediate call came through, and she’d just pulled up her contact list when Isaac’s phone rang. He took it out of his pocket.

  “Is it....” was all she managed to get out, but he understood and nodded.

  “Barbara,” he said, answering and Maggie hated she could only hear half of the conversation. “Yes, she’s here just not able to make it to the phone in time. What’s going on?”

  He winced at her reply. “Barbara….. Barbara…. Listen to me. Take a deep breath, calm down, and tell me what’s going on.”

  More silence as she answered. Isaac didn’t wince again, in fact, his expression was unreadable. His words, however, told a different story.

  “He called you today?”

  “Isn’t that a breach of contract?”

  A sigh and then, “Barbara, you know better.”

  “Go rest and don’t think about this until tomorrow…. Yes, you can…. Don’t make me call Lance.”

  “We’ll take care of it. Go rest.”

  He ended the call and ran his fingers through his hair. “The chef called today and said he wasn’t doing the benefit. Said it was a conflict of interest or something. She’s not sure exactly because she was too upset to pay attention. And to top it off, they never signed a contract. I wish you’d been working for her then, you’d have made sure that prick chef signed a contract.”

  Maggie’s heart sank, not only because of Barbara’s excitement at booking the chef in question, but also because it was going to be next to impossible to find a replacement. She started to sit down and remembered she was naked. “I’ll go put my clothes on and make calls, but the benefit is next weekend. I can’t imagine there’s anyone with availability, and if there is, I don’t see them being someone we’d want.”

  “Agreed,” he said. “I guess the best we can hope for is that some bride or groom getting married next weekend has a horrible case of cold feet and calls off their wedding, freeing up a caterer in the process.”

  She felt bad wishing such a travesty on someone, but after three hours and too many dead end phone calls to count, a last minute cancellation appeared to be their only hope.

  “Seriously,” she told Isaac as he walked back into the living room after making calls of his own. “Even the bad caterers are booked.”

  He sat beside her, the slight nod of his head the only indication he’d heard what she’d said. She raised an eyebrow at his silence. As normal, she couldn’t read his expression, but there was an energy pulsing through him. The more she looked at him, the more pissed he seemed to become.

  “What happened?” she asked, not bothering to ask if anything had happened. That much was obvious.

  “What do you know about the Warren’s interest in the food industry?” he asked.

  What did that have to do with anything related to their current predicament?

  “I didn’t know they had one.”

  “That’s what I thought,” he said. He took a deep breath. “The Warrens have recently purchased a controlling interest in that chef’s restaurant. The one Barbara booked for the benefit. The contract prohibits him from working for any charity foundation not endorsed by the Warrens.”

  “That’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard of. Who gets their panties in a wad over charities?” She had to think this through. “Why would they even care which charity he worked for? A job is a job, and you’d think they’d be happy he was bringing in money.”

  “You would think,” Isaac agreed.