New Yorker style on you—black pants, black blazer.”
She chuckled. “It’s in bad taste if your clothing competes with the art.”
He ran his knuckles over her shimmery blue shirt. “This matches your gorgeous eyes.”
Her cheeks turned pink. “So Hailey said. It was a Yule present.”
Would she still flush from a compliment after they’d been together a few years? Smiling, he bent to capture a quick kiss.
Yeah, he really loved this woman.
They were good together—all the time, not just for the sex and scenes. He looked forward to their quiet evenings…and also when they went out. She’d been with him for university events, faculty lunches, and evenings with other couples like Linda and Sam.
Everything was more enjoyable with her companionship.
It appeared she felt the same way about him, since she was with him every evening and night. Gradually, her clothing was filling in the spaces he’d emptied for her.
She still had her apartment—her security blanket, she called it. On her own, she’d obtained a recommendation for a counselor from Gabi and was working through her parents’ neglect and how her ex’s slaves had resurrected the issues.
Last weekend at the Shadowlands, she’d been much more comfortable with her body. And, even though aging had bothered her, she’d never disliked or questioned who she was. She liked herself.
He did, too.
“So, let’s check out the art.” He guided her through the brightly lit gallery, detouring around the clusters of people. Some were holding small plastic cups of wine. A few should obviously have stopped with one cup.
As they worked their way through the paintings, her smile grew. “I love the impressionist style.”
He nodded. “Monet and Pissarro are near the top of my list. But modern impressionism might be even better than the pioneers.”
“Hmm. Because there are more colors available, maybe? Or perhaps it’s because no one tells them they have to confine themselves to a certain style.”
“That might be it.” He stopped in front of one of Natalia’s paintings. From the long, high pier, he’d guess it was Naples Beach, a popular spot for photographers. Natalia’s painting held two dark figures sitting in the sand, leaning against each other, silhouetted by the light on the water.
A moment in time. And a universal feeling.
“Who hasn’t watched a sunset with a lover?” Valerie murmured.
“I think our quiet Natalia will go far.” Ghost tilted his head and grinned. “Although she might choose to flee, instead.”
Near another of her paintings, Natalia had been cornered by an older man. He was gesturing with his wine in a way that showed he might have already had a few.
“Time for a rescue, Colonel?” Valerie asked.
“De Oppressor Liber.” To free the oppressed, the Special Forces motto, seemed quite appropriate.
“Natalia, your paintings are stunning.” Valerie swooped in, cleverly maneuvering herself between the young woman and the pompous fool.
The man’s expression darkened. “Hey, I—”
“Natalia, it’s about time we found you,” Ghost growled, deliberately sounding irritated.
The man took a step back…and decided he needed more wine.
Valerie patted Ghost’s chest. “I love your sadist voice.”
“And your timing.” Natalia rolled her eyes. “He was telling me why I’d chosen the subjects I used.”
Valerie snickered. “Mansplaining, hmm?”
“Totally. I didn’t realize I had repressed sexual urges when I painted a great white heron in the Everglades.”
“Ah.” Ghost gave her a serious look. “It’s good to learn these important details about your motivation.”
When Natalia’s mouth dropped open, he chuckled. “And if you share his theory with your Mistress, I’m sure she’ll help you with the problem.”
Natalia broke into giggles, leaning on Valerie for support. “Thank you for the rescue. Some of these people are…well, really enthusiastic.”
And a bit much for the quiet artist. Until her Mistress arrived, they’d better stay close enough to break her free when needed.
“Where’s Olivia?” Valerie was obviously on the same wavelength.
“One of her clients had a break-in, and the police wanted the security camera recordings. Since she’s boss of the security firm, she has to deal with it. She texted to let me know she was stuck there for a while.”
“Did she now?” At Valerie’s raised eyebrows, Ghost explained. “She never used to let anyone know when she’d be late, and she’s almost always late.”
“She doesn’t like me worrying,” Natalia said, “so she texts now.”
Of course. To keep from stressing Natalia, Olivia would make the effort. Stressing out her fellow Dominants, however, wasn’t a concern. Ghost almost laughed.
“Nattie!” A group of people advanced toward her. Brown hair, brown eyes, familiar features. Natalia’s family had arrived. Three men wore tan coveralls with the logo of a local