She nods with a smile of her own. “I am happy to hear you feel this way. So many before you have been afraid, some even cry.”

I watch her closely as emotions flit across her face. The Keepers are not permitted to become friends with us. They don’t get emotionally involved with any of the girls. But I can see on her face that isn’t her truth. She cares for me and the others.

“It feels like butterflies in my stomach,” I whisper as I take her hand in mine.

The Keeper squeezes my hand gently before releasing me. “That’s good, Aspen.”

For the rest of the journey, we travel in silence. I watch through the window as we move further and further from the place where I have spent the last three years of my life. The town turns into country lanes and then into a city. I have a faint idea of where we are as we move through the busy streets toward a more suburban area.

Inside the gated community, there are magnificent homes. Parks, where children play while their mothers watch over them and yet more children ride bicycles. Massive oak trees line the streets giving the entire area an idyllic feel.

Our car slows down as we turn up a longer drive than the others, approaching a house set further back from the road. I hear the crunch of gravel beneath the wheels as the house finally comes into view. A beautiful Tudor-style home stands before us, with dark bricks and white finishings. And in front of the door at the top of the steps stands a man.

****

Mason

A petite, raven-haired woman steps out of the blue car wearing a vibrant green sundress. As she turns to face me, the car is already backing out of the driveway. No one gets out to introduce her, to make certain she is safe. She is left standing there holding a small backpack.

My gaze takes her in as we stand and stare at one another. I saw the measurements in her questionnaire, but I never imagined she could be so small. As I watch her, she takes a deep breath, pulls back her shoulders, and starts walking the final few feet toward me. She is magnificent in the confidence she exudes, and beautiful in each step she takes. I feel my pulse spike and realize that this woman is exactly what I would want in a Partner. Suddenly, I don’t want her to only live with me. I want her to be mine completely.

“Hello,” her husky voice whispers when she finally reaches me.

I don’t reply because I can’t find my voice. My mouth feels dry, my throat scratchy, and I need a moment to compose myself. Instead, I hold my hand out and gesture for her to enter my home.

Placing my hand on the small of her back, I guide her through the lounge toward the kitchen. I don’t miss her reaction to my touch. A sharp intake of breath and a shiver that wracks her entire frame, although she tries to hold it back.

When we reach the kitchen island, I pull out a chair for her before I round to the other side. After swallowing I finally speak.

“Welcome to my home, Aspen. My name is Mason.”

Chapter Three

Aspen

Mason is extremely attractive. I watch him move around the house while he talks into his phone. I have been here for three days and so far, we live in comfortable companionship. And although I am happy to be here, I want more. Mason seems like a good man. He has allowed me anything I want thus far except the one thing I want most.

Since the day I arrived, he has not touched me. He has not tried to make me his Partner in all the ways that matter. How am I supposed to make him happy, bear him children, if he cannot stand to touch me?

“I don’t want to hear excuses,” he barks into the phone. “I want results.”

He stares out the large window as he listens to the person on the other end reply while I watch. His dark hair is disheveled from running his hands through it, his jaw firmly set. He wears a dark pair of jeans with a grey shirt and no shoes as he paces back and forth. I marvel at his thighs and ass with every step he takes.

I may be a virgin, but I do have an appreciation for a fine male form. And Mason is delicious. Who would have thought a man twice my age would become the central point of my universe and all my fantasies?

His phone crashes against the wall and shatters, pulling me from my thoughts. I jump in shock and let out a little shriek.

“Shit,” Mason says before striding toward me. He cups my face in his hands and gazes down at me. “I’m sorry, Aspen.”

“It’s fine,” I reply but I can hear my voice shake.

“No, it’s not.” Mason frowns. “I don’t want you to be afraid. I would never hurt you.”

“I know.” I smile before turning away to continue with preparations for dinner. I need the distraction from the moment of unexpected violence.

My father was like Mason—a great man, a loving man, but with violence always lying dormant just beneath the surface. I don’t want to fear Mason the way I used to fear my dad. But the memories are drowning me, and I need to distract myself.

****