Page 36 of For the Sub

His first thought was oriented toward BDSM.

She had more than enough space to set up a St. Andrew’s cross, and for him to have plenty of freedom to swing a whip.

A large television was mounted on a wall, and she’d turned on the gas fireplace. In addition to the overstuffed couch, she’d set up a number of chairs and trays to make her visitors comfortable.

In one corner, she had an aquarium, and he wandered over. More of her menagerie?

“That’s the home to Zig and Zag.” She joined him. “They’re leopard geckos.”

“Let me guess, someone else named them.”

“Umm, no. That bit of creative genius was mine.” Her blush enchanted him.

“I’m sure it suits them.”

“You’re being kind, Sir.”

“Yeah.” With a grin, he shrugged. “I’m trying to be a good guest.” So I get invited back.

With a small laugh, she led the way to her office.

She casually propped a shoulder against the doorjamb and took a sip of her wine.

Her workspace was uncluttered, and a notebook computer sat on a glass desk. A few manila file folders were stacked nearby, but other than a cup containing pens and pencils, nothing else adorned the surface.

Her chair faced a window featuring a soothing panorama of pine trees and distant mountains. “This is why you live up here,” he guessed.

“This view is why I made an offer for more than the asking price,” she agreed. “I see deer and elk most times of the year. I could make more money other places”—she took another sip—“but at what cost?”

Because it seemed she had more to say, he remained quiet.

“When I lived in Denver, I complained about the snow and icy roads. Even though the weather is harsher up here, I enjoy it. There’s a peacefulness I never found in the big city.”

The handwriting on the tab of a file folder caught his eye. DNM. His company. “What’s this?”

Her cheeks turned so red that they almost matched the color of her wine. “I…ah…meant to put that away.”

“Mind if I have a look?” he asked.

“Since it’s about you, you have that right.”

While he flipped open the cover, she paced.

As suspected, there was a small dossier on him. Smart. Which meant she’d definitely been planning to see him again. So there was no way he could be offended.

He just wished he hadn’t seen Eleanor’s obituary in there.

Not that he blamed Brandy for her curiosity.

Near the window, she stopped moving.

They stood close enough to look at each other, but not close enough for him to touch her.

He appreciated that she made no apologies for her research.

“No arrest records that I could find.”

“Buried deep,” he teased. “Records sealed.”

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