I’m in the kitchen loading the dishwasher when I sense his presence behind me. Turning to face him, I lower to my haunches and strike the pose.

“Did Loren tell you today is his birthday, too?”

“No, Mr. Bordeaux. He didn’t.”

“I’m not surprised.” He wanders to the dishwasher, and much to my astonishment, stacks the last two dessert bowls on the top rack. “He always puts the focus on me, even though this is his day too.”

That’s because Loren is selfless. Mr. Bordeaux could learn a thing or two from his manservant.

“This year, I have something special in mind for him.” Switching on the dishwasher, he trains his attention on me. “And you’re going to help me.”

“Whatever you need, Mr. Bordeaux.”

“You mean that, don’t you?” His fingers lift my chin, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to catch his gaze and try to find a reason for his oddly softened tone.

“Yes, Mr. Bordeaux.”

“I know your first instinct is to tell me what I want to hear, but I believe I can trust you.” His touch strengthens to a strong, unmovable grip on my jaw. “Look at me, Novalee.”

Inch by inch, I draw my gaze along the slope of his shoulder, the evening stubble on his jawline, the thin point of his nose, and finally…I meet his hazel eyes.

“Despite your occasional stumble, you’ve proven your obedience and, dare I say, loyalty.” He tilts his head. “I know you have a soft spot for Loren.”

“He’s been very kind to me.”

“Where I have not.”

I don’t answer because confirming his assessment won’t do either of us any good.

“You might not like what I have in mind tonight, but I expect you to cooperate for Loren’s sake.”

“I understand, Mr. Bordeaux.”

He rubs his thumb across my lip. “Tonight, you will address Loren as your master. If you fail to do so, you will lose a diamond, and I’ll be forced to schedule your punishment with Pax.” A beat goes by, in which he gives me a pointed look. “Am I correct in assuming you don’t want such a visit to the dungeon hanging over your head as you move on to the House of Gemini tomorrow?”

“You’re correct, Mr. Bordeaux. That’s not what I want.”

“Then we understand each other. Follow me.” He ushers me out of the kitchen, through the great room, and into his private quarters, and the sight beyond the double doors doesn’t fully register until I stall three feet inside my keeper’s bedroom. My breath stalls in my lungs.

Loren is kneeling.

In the pose.

And he’s completely naked.

The doors shut behind me, and Mr. Bordeaux gestures to a reclining lounge next to the king-sized bed. “Take a seat,” he tells me, nodding toward the chair.