“Really?” She crossed her arms beneath her breasts. She could tell her father was a little taken aback by her behavior. Usually by now she was doing whatever he wanted. No scenes. No emotional outbursts.

“Who told you that it was about the money? Max?” His cold eyes narrowed as he studied her. “Or was it that slime you’re fucking?”

Again, anger built within her. She might have left everything up in the air about their relationship, but her father would not put down the man she loved. The man she needed.

“I’d use my words carefully, if I were you.” A normal person would hear the threat in her tone, but her father was warming up to his subject and didn’t take note.

“I know what you’ve been doing, shopping in stores filled with trash, and now you’re sleeping with trash. You should be ashamed of yourself. You’re no different than your grandmother.”

Her throat burned with the need to yell at him, but she refused to let him see how much he’d hurt her. How much she still wanted his acceptance, knowing she would never receive that, let alone love.

She took a step closer and was pleased to see him take a step back in reaction. “Listen, Father. The days when you could tell me what to do, who to do, and when to do it are over. The day you threw me out of the house because I wanted to attend a wedding sealed your fate. And, for your information, what I find disgusting is your need to spy on your daughter.”

She swept past him, but he grabbed her arm, hard. His fingers dug into the tender flesh of her upper arm.

“You will do what I say.” His face was mottled in anger, but there was something in his eyes that she’d never seen before. Fear and desperation. “I need that money.”

As she studied the anger on his face, an ache welled in her heart. For years she’d tried to please him. Nothing had ever been good enough, never would be. He would never accept her for who she was, and she was tired of trying. Jerking her arm away, hoping that the police officer who lived across the street was watching the whole thing, she leaned closer to his face.

“You have no right tomymoney. You made your bed, you lie in it. If you show up here again, I’ll call the police.”

She turned and unlocked her door, knowing he was watching her every move, probably too confused to think. Without saying anything else, she stepped into her house, shut the door, and locked it. Leaning against it, she held her breath. Moments later, she heard him walk down the steps and then his car start up. Her cell phone rang. It was Charlie, the cop across the street. After reassuring him that everything was all right, she hung up, then collapsed on her papasan chair.

Closing her eyes, she tried to block out the day’s events, but couldn’t. Her father’s visit—not to see if she was okay, but to get her money. She sighed as a few tears welled up in her eyes. It was wrong, but it still hurt to know her father saw her only as a means to an end.

Her mind turned to Chris. The expression he wore when he asked her to trust him, to give him what he had given her still twisted her in the gut. Unwillingly, the stark pain on his face, the devastation, now registered. He hadn’t called, hadn’t followed her. Knowing she needed space, he’d let her go. She understood without being told that he had left everything up to her.

She opened her eyes and jerked upward. He’d left it up to her.

He didn’t demand. In the end, even after he’d asked for her submission, he had not told her what he wanted. He’dasked.

Drawing in a deep breath, she began to turn over the memories of the last few months. They’d shared secrets, desires. The night in his restaurant when she’d asked him of his ultimate fantasy danced through her mind. He’d told her that night, in simple terms. She’d dismissed it, thinking nothing of it after the conversation. What if that was what he wanted now?

He’d mentioned something about Evan, but it hadn’t registered. She’d been so freaked out by his request of relinquishing her dominance that she’d ignored his other comments. What if he’d been trying to tell her he wanted to share her with Evan? It would explain why he’d wanted them to be friendlier. She sorted through the idea, thinking of the implications of agreeing to it.

Instead of anger or disgust, lust pumped through her at the thought. Two men? She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, waiting for the denial to come—for the disgust to set in—but it didn’t.

Shewasaroused by the idea. In fact, she was really, really aroused by it. She shivered as her nipples hardened. Fear had pushed her to panic. Fear that he wanted to take over her life just like every man she had ever known. From her father who saw her as a commodity to Max who wanted to protect her. She had been so wrong.

After dealing with her father, now she understood. Chris would never take over or tell her what to do with her life, he would never see her as a possession. He saw her as a companion, an equal. Love, trust, submission…all of it she wanted to offer to him. She loved him without reservation. That gave her the courage, the need to accept his request.

She sat for a long moment, her brain catching up with what she knew in her heart. This man was for her, that he would always be the one man who made her complete. There would never be a time he would make her do something she didn’t want to. Instead, he asked her and had allowed her the space to make her decision.

She might not be sure how it would go, but Cynthia knew one thing, she wanted…needed…to give Chris this one thing. She loved him enough to give up control, even if it was only for one night.

Chapter Fifteen

Chris pulled some green peppers out of the bin, shut the drawer, and let the fridge door shut. He was still in the process of chastising himself for the way he’d handled Cynthia. As he washed the peppers, he thought about their argument. Stupid. Impatient and stupid. It had been less than twenty-four hours, but it felt more like six months. Waiting on Cynthia to tell him her decision was killing him.

Drawing out a knife, he began to chop the peppers. He had lost his patience with her and blurted out his intent. He’d known she understood what he needed. Still, he should have eased her into it, given her time to accept that to complete their connection, her submission, her trust was needed.

Watching her develop her control over him had been more of a turn-on than he’d expected, but then he’d blown it. Instead of gently introducing her to the idea, he’d demanded it, like an ass. Lord only knew what she would say when she found out he’d planned on having Evan join them.

As he turned on the heat under his sauté pan, the doorbell rang. He knew it wasn’t Cynthia. She had her own key. When he opened the door, he found Evan standing on the porch.

“I went by the restaurant, and they said you’d called in.” His gaze searched Chris’. “You sick?”

“No, come on in.”