In a low voice, he said, “It scared the shit out of me that you could’ve been hurt because of me and I couldn’t get to you fast enough. You have every right to be pissed at me, but can you just give me five minutes to reassure myself that you’re really okay and then I’ll leave if that’s what you want?”

I refused to meet his eyes as I opened the door and gestured inside. I only made it three steps before I stopped and wrapped my arms around myself like that might help me to keep it together.

I whispered, “Please stay.”

I was only dimly aware of Alex gently guiding me to the living room and moments later handing me a glass of whisky. I took a deep drink, relaxing a little as the rich, earthy flavors of peat smoke invaded my senses, warming me from within.

We sat in silence, not looking at each other until he slid off the ottoman and dropped to his knees in front of me. Unreadable emotions swam in his brilliant blue eyes as he said, “I don’t know how to do this with you, Elena. I want to hug you and apologize and tell you that it’s going to be okay…but you’re this powerful, centered goddess and I don’t want to make you feel smaller, like you need to be coddled. I don’t even know exactly what I’m offering, but can you somehow use me to make yourself feel better? Would reclaiming Lady Elena help?”

For a long moment, I simply stared at him. This intensely gorgeous, shockingly perceptive man on his knees before me, offering to submit to let me feel strong again was possibly the most erotic thing I’d ever seen. He bowed his head, looking at the floor. In his white button-down with the sleeves rolled up, he was the living incarnation of forearm porn.

In a way, he was right. I could be Lady Elena, and retreat behind the imperious facade of my professional persona. She wouldn’t be scared of a bunch of photographers, no matter how aggressive they were.

But I had been scared and hiding from that wasn’t constructive. I wanted something else from him, but didn’t know how to ask for it. I, the woman who spent her life coaxing others into being vulnerable and sharing their kinks, was afraid to ask him for what I wanted. Not because I thought he would reject me or he wouldn’t be into it, but because once I’d gone there with him there’d be no turning back. If I truly submitted to him, my heart would be on the line…and this relationship had an expiration date.

I took one more sip of whisky and slid down to the floor with him, buying myself a moment to find my courage by kissing him. My lips tingled a little from the alcohol when they met his, flooding my senses with the fiery richness of the malt and the sensual caress of his tongue against mine. It was like we’d struck a match and burned away the last of my self-restraint.