One Cut Deeper Read online

  Sheba rescued me from myself. She put her big head on my thigh and gave a little puppy bark that managed to break through the desire strangling me. My head ached abominably and my stomach churned. And the worst was yet to come, because he was still there.

  He’d seen it all. Thank God he had no idea how close I’d come to embarrassing us both. All the man wanted was for me to let him in, just a little, and use his nickname. And I couldn’t even do that without wanting to give him a public blow job.

  I rested my hand on Sheba’s head and fought not to cry.

  The door to the examination room opened and Mrs. Summers came out carrying her extremely fat cat. She’d need to pay for Fluffy’s exam and schedule the next appointment. Numbed from battling myself, I raised my head, determined to face him. It’d be better if I got it over quickly, even if I didn’t want to see his relief that he hadn’t had time to make the mistake of asking me out.

  Bracing his elbow on the counter, his chin in his hand, he watched me pet his dog with a bemused little smile that sent my heart somersaulting. He wasn’t backpedaling toward the door. And the warmth in his eyes was still there, molten chocolate and damnably sweet as he stared at me.

  He didn’t say a word.

  No, he still waited for me to give him what he wanted. He didn’t let Mrs. Summers approach the counter. For a relatively small man, he managed to take up a lot of space when he was determined, and this was a battle he wanted to win. One word. That’s all he wanted. Did I dare play along?

  Why did he still want to challenge me when I’d already betrayed how easily my self-control could slip away? Even more, why now? It was like he could tell I’d been fantasizing about him more and more, ever since he’d helped me a few weeks ago.

  One of Dr. Wentworth’s interns had asked me out. Jacob was nice enough, I guess. The other assistants sure flirted with him. But a regular guy off the street would never interest me, and after months of therapy, I knew better than ever what kind of guy I wanted, though I didn’t think I was strong enough for a relationship.

  Jacob didn’t take no for an answer. He wasn’t an asshole about it, just clueless, with that macho attitude that said if he kept asking me, I’d eventually say yes. I was surely just playing hard to get.

  Every time he asked me out again, my anxiety ratcheted up another notch. I didn’t want to deal with that constant worry every time I saw him. He made me start doubting myself. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I ought to give him a chance. I’d done it so many times before, dating some loser I didn’t want, just to have that feeling that someone wanted me.

  As Jacob asked me out for the tenth time, Mr. MacNiall happened to come in with Sheba. I didn’t make a scene, not at work, but somehow he picked up on my anxiety. He didn’t raise his voice, but his tone took on a sharper menace that made my pulse skyrocket. Not with fear.

  With desire.

  Without flexing his muscles or putting his hands on the larger man, Mr. MacNiall told him to leave me alone, with a dark look that sent Jacob scurrying out of the room with his tail between his legs. He never even looked at me again before his internship ended.

  That’s the kind of power Sheba’s master had.

  The kind of power I craved with my whole being. As I’d just shown, he wouldn’t have to command me to my knees. I’d want to live on them every moment I was in his presence, aching with the need for his next command. Losing myself a little more every single day.

  How could I possibly hold it together long enough to even think about playing with a man like him?

  But the challenge was there. The heady rush of adrenaline as I wondered how far he’d be willing to go. Every minute I played his games, I’d be gambling my stability and well-being.

  I couldn’t resist. Even if I lost myself in the process.

  I opened my mouth, determined to get it over with. “Charlie.”

  I froze as soon as his name left my lips, shocked that I’d dared to use his mother’s name for him and not what all Dr. Wentworth and his friends called him. That was me, all right. Stubborn to a fault and then determined not to follow the rest of the herd.

  He smiled so widely that the dimple reappeared, then backed away from the counter to let Mrs. Summers book her appointment.

  I drooped in my chair. On autopilot, I rang up Mrs. Summers’s bill and wrote out a card for the next appointment.

  Dr. Wentworth started to take Sheba to the back, but paused and turned back to me. “Ranay, did you have any luck finding Pepper’s missing file? Callie swears she filed it but she can’t find it now. I need those notes so I can schedule a follow-up.”

  Giving myself a mental shake, I picked up the file I’d found earlier and held it out to her. “She did file it, but in the archived drawer of deceased pets.”

  “Yikes. Let’s hope that was very premature.” Dr. Wentworth laughed and headed for the examination room. “Thanks, Ranay. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  Leaving me alone with him.

  He never stayed outside while Sheba was examined, even if all they were going to do was trim her nails. She hated it but she wouldn’t move a muscle if he was there beside her. I tried to remember why Sheba was in today. Surely he wouldn’t leave her for long.

  “I wanted to ask you something, Ranay.”

  Oh God, here it was. He’d ask me out. I’d politely refuse. And my fantasies would have to die a painful, lonely death.

  A man like him wouldn’t take a simple no without an explanation. I’d have to explain why I didn’t date anymore.

  I stared unseeing at the computer screen. I wished he would leave. Why did he have to go and ruin a perfectly good fantasy?

  My therapist had told me that these fantasies were a positive sign of my recovery. It was healthy to picture myself connecting with someone again, maybe falling in love. I could pretend Charlie was as kind and generous as he appeared, while also wickedly sensual in bed and fierce with his punishments. He’d know without question what I liked and what I hated (and he’d do it anyway because he liked to see me squirm). He’d push me, play me, tie me up while he tried to find one, just one, limit I might have, even though I had none.

  He wouldn’t be appalled at how far I’d sink, unable to stop myself from drowning in him.

  More importantly, he’d hurt me until I wanted to die from the sheer bliss of his sensual punishment. He’d take me, own me, command me so deeply that I wouldn’t want to breathe without his will directing me.

  A gentle, kind dominant I could respect and love. A viciously inventive master who could punish me without hesitation and own me heart and soul. Thanks to my therapist, I knew that’s what I wanted, though I never believed I’d have it. Such dichotomy didn’t exist in a single man. Someday, I’d have to settle for one or the other.

  I didn’t want to face the reality. I didn’t want to admit that the man I’d been secretly fantasizing about was impossible.

  “I’m going out of town unexpectedly tonight and I was wondering if you could do a favor for me. With it being so close to Christmas, Doc’s too full to accept Sheba for a single night.”

  We only had space to board ten pets, and the holidays had been booked for months. I dared to look back up at him. He leaned on the counter again, all dimples and tousled curls, doodling aimlessly with his finger on the counter. I blinked, wondering if I’d finally lost it for good. The poor man didn’t have a clue that my greedy body lusted for him.

  His finger stilled, drawing my attention from his graceful hand up his arm and shoulder and back to his face. He leaned toward me, skyrocketing my blood pressure again. I was dizzy from the highs and lows, mentally exhausted after talking with him a few minutes.

  He wasn’t asking me on a date. He certainly wasn’t offering to show me his box of toys or take me to his dungeon.

  The man wants me to babysit his dog.

  I tried to clarify. “Would Sheba be okay at my house?”

  “She’d do better in her own environment, if that’s
not too inconvenient for you.”

  Crap. A night in his house. Granted, he wouldn’t be there, but his presence would have permeated every room. His scent. Would I be able to restrain my curiosity?

  He flashed that dimple again, as though he knew I would snoop and he hoped I found something that would pique my interest even more. “It’s only one night. I’d be back before dinner on Christmas Eve if you have plans with your family. I’d ask my neighbor to come check on her, but she doesn’t like to be alone. Plus she likes you, Ranay. She knows and trusts you.”

  The soft, rumbly way he said my name made me quivery with excitement. Worse, I could tell he knew it.

  “I like you too.”

  I stilled, sudden dread squeezing my throat. I dared a quick look into his eyes to gauge his intensity, but he was still playful and light. Was I still reading too much into this? Or was he merely luring me into his den with an innocent request to dog sit?

  “I hope you like us.”

  I opened my mouth but couldn’t respond. I’ve done a lot of things I’m not very proud of, but I’m a terrible liar. Luckily, Dr. Wentworth and Sheba saved me from having to answer. I’d crawl across broken glass if you told me to.

  “Your beautiful lady’s manicure was quick and easy today,” Dr. Wentworth said as she handed over the leash to Charlie. “That must have been one heck of a talk you gave her, Mac, because she didn’t give us one whimper. What’d you promise her?”

  He winked at me. “Just a visit from a friend.”

  “Oh, good,” Dr. Wentworth replied. “I’m so glad Sheba will have some company. Do you need directions, Ranay?”

  I nodded, unable to trust my voice.

  Dr. Wentworth launched into turn left here and then two rights, and didn’t I know where so-and-so lived twenty years ago. I was seriously regretting accepting.

  But in the midst of her chatter, he slipped a folded note to me, keeping his fingers on the paper as I laid my own on it. I was tempted to touch his hand, but I didn’t trust myself. Especially not in front of others.

  “Call me if you have any problems at all.”

  It wasn’t a command, not exactly, but my entire being vibrated with anticipation. I wanted his commands. I wanted his control. Pain. Punishment. It would all be pleasure to me. My chest seized, my lungs aching because I couldn’t breathe. Not with him standing here so close. I was careening down a mountain road in the pitch-black night. And I don’t have any emergency brakes.

  “I need to leave for the airport by eight.” He let me slip the paper free and lightened his voice enough that I was able to haul in a deep, shaking breath. “Any time after six is fine. Whatever’s easiest for you. I can come get you if you’re afraid you might get lost, but I thought you might rather have your own car at your disposal.”

  After waving at us both, he headed for his car with Sheba at his heels. I didn’t have to ring his bill up. He paid a flat amount monthly, an automatic deposit to his account with us. The perfect client.

  Dr. Wentworth insisted we close up early. She wouldn’t let me clean up the break room. “You need time to get home and pack so you can spend the night with Sheba. I’m sure he’ll need to show you all her routines. How much to feed her. Where she likes to walk.” But then she spoiled her reasonable arguments with a wink and a nudge that told me she wasn’t oblivious to my attraction to Mr. MacNiall. “If you get there early enough, you might even have time for dinner. Trust me, darling, he has a fabulous wine collection. Make sure you sample it before the holiday’s over.”

  Convinced I’d made a terrible mistake, I headed for my car, determined to arrive a few minutes before eight. I certainly wouldn’t hope for dinner. Or wine. Or the thousand other inappropriate things running through my mind that involved naked skin.

  Though I sure as hell wanted to know how Dr. Wentworth knew all about his fabulous wine collection.

  Chapter Two

  I rang Mr. MacNiall’s doorbell at a minute past six. I had a small bag slung over my shoulder and hoped I’d managed to pull off interested but this isn’t a date so I’m not wearing a dress, but I want to look my best without being obvious. I wore my favorite clothing staple—black jeans—and a simple sweater. My only nod to the holiday season was the color, a brilliant spruce. I probably looked more prepared to tromp around in the snowy woods than ask about his wine collection, but I wasn’t going to pretend to be anything more than I was.

  Sheba barked on the other side of the door as though she’d been sitting there waiting for me all evening.

  His home was a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. No wonder he’d offered to come get me, although with his careful directions and map, I’d found my way without any problems.

  Plus I now had his phone number programmed in my cell and engraved on my heart.

  “I hear you,” he told her affectionately as he opened the door. He still wore the same clothes as before and his hair was mussed, as if he’d been digging in the back of his closet for exactly the right thing to wear.

  No, that’d been me.

  “Thank God you’re here.” He waved me inside. Sheba sat at his feet and didn’t rush the open door or try to jump on me, although she tried to beat a hole through the floor with her tail. “As soon as the suitcase came out, she went nuts. She hates it when I leave.”

  He didn’t seem irritated I’d arrived two hours early. “What can I do to help, Mr....” He arched a brow at me, as if to say are you seriously going to take a step backward after I fought so hard? “Charlie?”

  He grinned and my knees went weak. “If you don’t mind, why don’t you take her out in the backyard and throw her ball. I’ll warn you, though, that she’ll run until your arm falls off.”

  At the word ball, Sheba immediately ran deeper into the house and came back with a tennis ball in her mouth. She ran back and forth between me and the back door, leading the way without his assistance. I tried to look around without being obvious. I caught a glimpse of a magazine-worthy kitchen, all sleek stainless steel and granite. The living room we passed through was old-fashioned and sunken, with a massive rock fireplace in one wall and dark paneling. It could almost be a flashback to the seventies, but he’d replaced whatever frightening shag carpet might have been installed originally. A large sectional faced the fireplace in a deep red-brown leather. No television.

  “Thank you,” he called after me. “I’ll reward you with a glass of wine once I’m packed.”

  I slid open the patio door and stepped outside into a backyard with a large patio, built-in grill and fire pit. A barbed-wire fence set a couple hundred feet away probably kept the cows out of his yard, but otherwise, it was wide open country. Motion lights kicked on, illuminating Sheba. She dropped the ball at my feet and then sat on her haunches, her eyes locked on her precious toy.

  I’d never seen him in a suit or tie, but he didn’t seem like a farmer either. He wore jeans, sweaters and T-shirts. Nice ones, to be sure, but casual and comfortable. I’d assumed he’d been coming in to the vet on his days off, but seeing his home made me wonder.

  I zipped my jacket. I might regret forgetting my gloves, but the night sky was magnificent without the city lights. So much for my wish that a huge snowstorm would strand me out here with him for days.

  Sheba yipped to get my attention, vibrating with intensity. She crouched and wiggled her butt. “Okay, okay,” I told her, cocking my arm and throwing the ball as far as I could. I fell into the rhythm of throwing and watching her fetch, over and over, while I wondered about his job and where he was going on Christmas Eve eve at the last minute.

  I might have built a few obsessive fantasies about him in my mind, but I knew very little about the real man. So he took good care of his dog and he’d scared off a guy who couldn’t understand no. That didn’t mean he wasn’t a serial killer who used his pet to lure unsuspecting women out into the middle of nowhere. Here I was, about to spend the night in his home alone with his huge dog. Maybe not the brightest idea I’d ever had.


  At least Dr. Wentworth knew where I was. To be safe, I’d call my parents and give them the address too. They were on the other side of Springfield but could be here in thirty minutes. My sister would have the National Guard on emergency standby if she suspected I was even thinking about dating again, let alone dog sitting for a stranger out in the country.

  I had to admit, though, that the mystery was just as appealing as the man. I wanted to know if that smoldering intensity was real. If he looked at me and saw the quivering, eager submissive ready to do his smallest bidding. I wanted to find out how far he’d make me go. What he was into. Bondage? Exhibition? Pain? I knew I shouldn’t, but I wanted it all.

  Charlie MacNiall had my attention, hook, line and sinker.

  Chapter Three

  When my shoulder started to hurt, I called for her to head inside. Sheba was more than ready to go again, but she went in without complaint. I glanced around as I followed her into the kitchen, but I didn’t see him.

  Sheba sat down in front of her bowls, but didn’t touch her food. Her water was a little low, so I went into the kitchen and pulled a glass out of the dish drainer to refill her bowl.

  Parched myself, I used the same glass and hit the fridge for some ice water.

  “She prefers cold, fresh water.” His voice sent me spinning around. He paused at the edge of the kitchen, as if giving me plenty of time to adjust to his presence before he entered the room. “She’ll have you filling her bowl every hour if you let her. Sometimes I throw a few ice cubes into her water. She likes to munch on them.”

  “Okay.” I can do this. Just keep it simple, stupid. Ask him dog questions as if I know what I’m doing. “Do you feed her at certain times?”

  He bent down to a wine cooler built in under the bar. His hair was damp from a shower and hung almost down to his shoulders. “I know Doc recommends a feeding schedule but I mostly just let her graze. I fill her bowl in the morning and she eats when she wants. I don’t like schedules much myself. Red or white?”