“Yours?”
“As I’m the only master here, yes.”
“I thought you didn’t consider yourself a Master?”
“I said I hadn’t collared anyone,” he corrected.“There’s a difference.”
“So if you did, you’d want her to consider you her Master?”
“Yes.”
The word seemed to hang between them.Her mouth dried.
He rested his shoulder against the doorjamb and gave her a smile that tantalized, captivated and frightened her a little.“Why else would I offer my collar?Protection?A commitment?To me, it would be every bit as meaningful as a wedding ring.”
Nervous, she smoothed imaginary wrinkles from her pants.“I didn’t realize it was that significant.”
“To me, it is.”He curled his hand around the doorknob.“Would you like to see the turret?”
Part of her knew she should refuse, but she seemed to have become a different person since she’d arrived at the Running Wind and fallen under its master’s spell.“Yes.I would.”
Sofia expected his bedroom to be austere, so the sight of the bright-blue quilt was a pleasant surprise.Two chairs were grouped in front of a fireplace.And this room had the personal effects she hadn’t seen downstairs.Big belt buckles sat on top of the dresser.At least some, she imagined, were rodeo-riding awards.
Small, framed pictures adorned a shelf.In one, he was on a horse, smiling widely, revealing a missing tooth.“May I?”
He shrugged, and she took his non-answer as a yes.There were photos of Cade with a woman who appeared to be his mother.Horses featured in almost all of them.“Is this your father?”she asked, picking up a picture of Cade standing near a motorcycle.
“It is.”
He had photos of his half-siblings, but nothing that appeared more recent, as if he’d stopped living his life at some point.
“Bathroom is over there.”
She glanced over to see him pointing.Obviously he’d been watching her, and she had the sense he wanted to distract her from prying.
“My grandparents had a wall removed.So the suite is actually the size of two original bedrooms.”
And with it being at the far end of the house, his private area was like an oasis.
She looked in the large bathroom.While it was modern, it had been remodeled in keeping with the historic feel of the rest of the house.A chandelier hung from the ceiling.
“It was repurposed from one of the guest houses.”
“Smart and frugal.”
“The turret is this way.”He opened a door, and she breathed him in as she walked past.
Every moment, she was more and more attracted to him, more tempted to ask him questions about his loft.
Sofia led the way up the circular iron staircase to the turret.
When she reached the top, she was astounded.The area felt like a home within a home.There was a small sitting area, with a leather couch and a couple of chairs.A steamer trunk served as a coffee table, and a well-used guitar leaned against a wall.
“Do you play?”
“I pluck a few chords,” he said.“But I’m no musician.”
He had a small area for a coffee service.
