Page 22 of Friends with Benefits (Club Risqué)

"What on earth did you do to your hair, Tara?" Christian wasn't sure where the words had come from, and he didn't mean to say them with quite the amount of censure that was evident. They had somehow just sort of blurted from his subconscious.

The precious face, which had been carefully blank until now, morphed quickly into an icy anger that he had rarely seen her display in the past.

"My name is Trinity now," she corrected coldly. "And even during those times I believed you to be my friend, it was never Tara!"

Christian winced at the disdain in her voice. That was another new thing for one of the most generous and giving people he’d ever had the good fortune to meet.

Lifting his hands in supplication, he intended to placate her, but she wasn't finished.

Nowhere near, in fact.

"What I do with my hair is not, and has never been, any of your concern."

Neither of them alluded to the fact that she’d always worn it long because it was how he'd preferred it.

"And as for what I am doing here, I'm sure you are well aware by now that I am the club's assistant manager. Not that that‘s any of your business, either."

Christian hadn't realised until then that he’d said that bit out loud.

Jesus, this wasn't going the way he had imagined. Not that he'd imagined he was going to run into Tara…Taryn…Trinity. But in the multitude of times—too many to count—that he’d imagined seeing her again, he always had a carefully thought out and rehearsed spiel ready, with which to reassure her.

Right now, any words he ever might have thought up had fled from his mind in the face of the shock and the reality of actually seeing her again.

And it was obvious that she was not a happy bunny!

She moved to press the office intercom on her desk. "I'll let Micah know our contract is void and that he needs to find you a different submissive," she declared as she stabbed the intercom button with no small amount of force.

Christian was by her side before he even realised he was moving, grabbing her hand and preventing her from connecting the call.

"No!" he exclaimed forcefully. "That's not what I want."

"Unfortunately, Christian..." She acknowledged his name for the first time since he’d entered the room. "While you may be used to having things your own way, not everything you want is always available to you," she declared coolly.

"Please, Taryn, don't do this," he implored, since begging seemed to be the only recourse left to him. It was clear she had no interest in dealing with him, so all he could do was appeal to her better nature. Unlike most people he came into contact with, he knew she had one and he knew just how generous it was.

Christian had been stupid enough, once, to take advantage of that and then let her go. He was determined, now a second chance seemed to have been dumped right in his lap, that he was going to correct the errors of his past.

ChapterEighteen

Later, Trinity would wonder if it was the fact he had used her given name that had stopped her from following through with her promise to have him assigned to a different submissive.

Right now, though, she was still reeling from the fact that Christian Knightley was standing in front of her, after all these years, and that he was none other than her contracted client, Master Night.

It was all the more disquieting after the distressing memories that had been conjured over the past week, which were liable to make her all the more susceptible to him.

Or were they? Maybe recalling all that pain was a good thing.

Rubbing her hands over her face, she wondered if karma had come to bite her in the ass, or whether this was an opportunity to finally put some of those ghosts to rest.

When Micah had introduced him, her mind had gone completely blank. As if it was just too much to compute that Christian was right there, standing in her office, looking just as delicious as he had five years before.

Maybe even better, if she was being entirely truthful.

His chest and shoulders had filled out, and even wearing a black silk shirt and leather trousers, she could tell he was at the peak of physical fitness.

The boy Trinity had known had turned into a man.

He stood next to her, patiently waiting for her decision. Close enough, but giving her a modicum of space, for which she was grateful.

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