Lance stood in silence and stared at the house.

“I have no regrets about how my life turned out,” Nora said, coming to stand next to him. “But if I could wave a magic wand and grow up with a father as loving and caring and protective as you, I’d wave the hell out of it.”

“You would?”

“In a heartbeat. There are two types of teenage rebellion—the normal kind and the kind that gets you in juvenile detention. Mine was of the latter variety. And I know if I’d had a normal father, a good father, that wouldn’t have been the case.”

“I want to be a good father to my daughter. You know I do.” Lance squeezed her hand before letting it go again.

“When a girl feels abandoned by her dad, she might latch onto any older man who takes an interest in her. Luckily for me, this other man I latched on to took great care of me. He got me out of trouble and kept me out of trouble. It could have just as easily been a sleaze I fell for who knocked me up and left me stranded again. I know a few girls who went down that path.”

Lance rubbed his chin, that half a day’s stubble she found so enticing. But she kept her hands to herself, knowing the next time she touched him would be the last time she touched him.

“I could get my daughter back,” Lance finally said.

“You could. Judge B. sounded pretty optimistic. He knows everyone in family court, has lots of pull. He’ll be able to help you.”

“I’m grateful to him. It’s just...” Lance turned and looked at her and in his dark blue eyes she saw the road they’d never take, not together anyway. And it would have been a lovely stroll down that road. The entire Underground would have turned out for the party when their infamous Mistress Nora finally settled down and put a collar on a sub. The women would swoon over handsome, noble, chivalrous Lance and the men would admire him for being man enough to take her on. She could see the mornings ahead of them: the breakfasts Lance would serve to her in bed, the tea he’d bring to her office while she worked on a book, the neck rubs he’d give her when she spent too much time sitting at her desk or too long flogging a client. She could imagine how devastatingly debonair Lance would look in a tuxedo when they attended a formal party at Kingsley’s or a special event her publisher hosted. And the nights...all those nights in bed with Lance serving her every sexual whim and Nora treating him to his every desire... They could live a lifetime of good nights together. He could give her everything she wanted. She could give him everything he needed. And no one could take that away from them.

“I have to do what I need to do,” Lance said at last. “Even if it’s not what I want to do.”