"And I knew." His voice is rough, certain. "I knew you were going to change everything. I knew that whatever happened between us was going to matter. I fought it for about thirty seconds before I realized fighting was pointless."
Tears prick at my eyes. "Callum..."
"I'm not asking you to marry me." He nods toward the velvet box. "Not yet. We've known each other less than a month and we're both too practical for that."
"Then what's in the box?"
"Open it."
My hands tremble as I reach for the velvet case. The hinges creak softly when I lift the lid.
Inside, nestled against black silk, is a key. Silver, ornate, attached to a delicate chain.
"I don't understand."
"It's a key to this room." Callum moves behind me, his chest warm against my back. "And to this house. And to my life." His lips brush my ear. "I want you to stay, Nadia. Not as a houseguest. Not as something temporary. As my partner. My submissive. The woman I'm building a future with."
"Your submissive." The word sends a shiver down my spine.
"If you want to be. On your terms. In whatever way works for both of us." His arms wrap around my waist, holding me close. "I know you're still figuring out what you want. I know the idea of belonging to someone goes against everything you've taught yourself to believe. But I also know how you come alive when you surrender. How peaceful you look when you stop fighting and let me take care of you."
He's right. I hate how right he is.
"And the Whistler contract?"
"I'll turn it down."
"What? No." I spin in his arms to face him. "Callum, that's a huge opportunity. You can't walk away from it because of me."
"I can if staying means losing you." His expression is serious, steady. "The business has survived for twenty-two years. It'll survive without this contract. But I don't want to survive without you."
"That's insane. We've been together a month."
"Five weeks. And I don't care." He cups my face in his hands. "I spent eight years being practical. Being careful. Protecting myself from exactly this kind of risk. And all it got me was lonely and convinced that I was better off alone."
"Callum..."
"I'd rather risk everything for a chance at something real than play it safe and end up with nothing." His thumbs stroke my cheekbones. "Take the key, Nadia. Stay. Let me love you the way you deserve to be loved."
The tears spill over. I can't stop them.
"You're supposed to be the practical one," I manage. "The careful one. The one who thinks things through."
"I've thought this through. Every day for the last five weeks." He presses his forehead to mine. "You're it for me. Whether it makes sense or not. Whether it's too fast or too risky or too anything. You're it."
I look at the key in my hand. Small and silver and weighted with meaning.
A key to his playroom. His house. His life.
"I have conditions."
His eyebrows rise. "Of course you do."
"You're not turning down the Whistler contract." I hold up a hand when he starts to protest. "We'll figure out the logistics. Maybe I come with you sometimes. Maybe I stay here and buildmy freelance business. Maybe we do some combination that makes us both crazy and we fight about it constantly."
"Nadia—"
"I'm not done." I fist my hand in his shirt, pulling him closer. "I'm also not just going to be your submissive. I'm going to be your partner. Equal say in decisions. Equal voice in how this relationship works. What happens in this room doesn't define what happens outside it."
