“And that means…”
His jaw flexed. “You’ll see in a minute.”
She had to jog to keep up with his long strides as he crossed the patio. He stopped abruptly in front of a group of doms relaxing in the outdoor lounge, and she nearly collided with him.
Alec pulled her in front of him, hands curled around her shoulders. “This is Rhys,” he said, voice clipped. “He’s British. His accent alone drives the subs crazy.”
Rhys came slowly to his feet with a hint of smile that said Alec wasn’t exaggerating. He was tall, lean muscle beneath his fitted shirt and trousers, silvered blond hair catching the patio lights. His steel-blue eyes swept over her—not leering but assessing—as if he could peel back all her layers in a single glance.
“An introduction?” he drawled, voice smooth as dark liquor. “Regrettably, my lovely, I’m past my two-drink limit for the night. I’ll be sure to abstain on Wednesday night, however.”
“She’s not looking for a dom,” Alec ground out, tension radiating off him in waves.
Rhys blinked once, brow creasing. “I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I,” Emily muttered.
Alec ignored her except for his fingers flexing, a clear command to stay silent. “I need you to settle a disagreement,” he told Rhys. “Kiss her.”
Rhys’s brows rose. The reaction wasn’t shock—just mild, pointed disbelief. “I beg your pardon?”
Emily’s protest overlapped his. “This isn’t necessary—”
“To put your doubts to rest once and for all, I think it is,” Alec insisted.
Rhys slid his hands into his pockets, the picture of patient skepticism. “You’re going to have to translate, Yarborough. I’m in the dark here, old man.”
“She thinks it’s the kink,” Alec snapped. “That any dom will get the same reaction.”
Rhys’s gaze sharpened, flicking between them. “And you want me to play the role? Interesting.”
Emily’s stomach knotted. Rhys was certainly attractive, but also a complete stranger. The knot tightened from humiliation, and the cold realization Alec had brought her here not only to be tested but to prove a point.
“Kiss her,” he pressed, “and let’s see if any dom will do.”
Rhys looked at her. Sympathy softening his eyes. “I’m happy to assist in the name of research, love. If, and only if, that’s what you want.”
He didn’t reach for her. Didn’t move closer. Didn’t assume.
And that made everything worse.
She didn’t want another dom. And it stung that Alec would offer her to another man. Even for a test. Even for just a kiss.
Anger came next—hot and scorching.
“Red,” she said clearly, loud enough to carry. “I’m not playing this game.”
Rhys stepped back at once, expression cooling into professional neutrality. A dom honoring a stop without question.
Behind her, Alec went absolutely still.
She pushed by him and stomped toward the house.
After two steps, he caught her arm—not to control but to stop the damage from spreading. “Wait, Em.” His voice shook with regret. “Where are you going?”
“To get my things and call an Uber. I’m going home.”
“That will cost a fortune from here,” Alec ground out. “I’ll drive you.”
