Cherise Sinclair - The Dom's Dungeon

As he grinned, satisfaction washed through him. Her trust in him continued to grow. She didn't jump when he touched her unexpectedly; her laughter came more easily. Yet he'd seen the wariness in her eyes when she'd brought the kitten home. She didn't fear him physically any longer, but emotionally?

He'd asked her about her past twice in the last week. The last time, he could see from the growing tenseness in her body, the way she ran her hands up and down her thighs, that she'd wanted to share with him. But her uncertainty had won again.

A little more time he'd give her, and then, if needed, he'd drag her back to the dungeon for another session in trust.

As the door to the mansion opened, Mac rubbed her clammy hands on her cape and frowned. She'd heard of butterflies in the stomach, but hers felt more like giant birds. With claws. She pressed her hand to her abdomen. I'm a friendly, competent, pretty woman. I can do this . She could act like a lady and not humiliate herself or embarrass Alex by doing something gauche. Piece of cake.

When she glanced back at their car—again—Alex's arm slid around her waist, preventing any escape. She glared into his amused eyes and managed to put a smile on her face.

“Good evening. Please come in.” The butler—a real one—took their coats. He glanced at Mac's attire and didn't—quite—sniff in disapproval.

Mac raised her chin. Alex had wanted to buy her a dress, but she'd refused. She had an adequate dress, after all. A basic black that she'd worn everywhere, ever since her sorority sister Tiffany had tossed it across the room to Mac, declaring she'd never wear the dismal color again.

In the center of the foyer, Victoria turned from the last guest. When she saw Mac, her smile disappeared. And probably not because of the dress.

Why did Alex have to have a mother? A rich, dignified mother.

“I'm pleased you both could come,” Victoria said, giving her son a kiss on the cheek. “Alex, you know the way.”

Mac stopped just inside the room and stared. A huge chandelier cast glimmering light over people dressed in suits and cocktail dresses. The babble of conversation swamped the soft music. Perfume and aftershave scented the air.

“You look lovely, little vet.” Alex kissed her fingertips, then nipped one sharply enough to make her squeak. “And when this is over, I intend to strip you out of that pretty rag, bend you over a bench, and take you hard.”

Before she'd recovered from the surge of heat at his totally unexpected words, he was introducing her to an older couple. “John, Felicia, this is MacKensie Taylor. She's a vet and working with Susan Weston. MacKensie, this is John and Felicia Lordan. They have three cats from the shelter—or is it four now?”

Just that easily, the conversation took off as Felicia talked about their newest adoptee. Mac gave Alex an admiring glance before attending to the talk.

After meeting more people, Mac turned to Alex. “Most of the people here are high society and politicians, except for the slew of veterinarians infesting the place. Isn't that combination a little strange?”

He grinned. “My mother uses her parties for recruitment. She—” He broke off, his attention on the door.

Pleasure washed through Mac when Peter and Hope entered the room. Look, I actually know someone in Seattle.

While the men shook hands, Hope gave Mac a hug, saying, “I hoped you'd come.” The small group wandered over to the drink table, presided over by a man in a black coat.

Mac smiled at the bartender before confiding to Hope, “This is the first time I ever met a real butler, but I like our Butler better. Not nearly as stuffy.”

“I have noticed that myself.”

Mac turned and froze. Alex's mother. Oh frak. Open mouth, insert foot.

Alex didn't seem to notice the chill as he laughed and said, “Our staff is growing, Mother. We now have a Chef who spends most of his time in the kitchen.” Alex grasped Mac's wrist and turned her arm over to display the scratch marks.

“ Our staff?” Victoria's eyebrows rose and then snapped together as her gaze turned to Mac. “ You like cats ?”

Alex's voice turned cold as he said, “Enough to risk life and limb rescuing a scrawny ball of fluff from the center of Mercer Street.”

Mac winced. She'd thought the story of her dramatic rescue of the cat amusing. Instead she had gotten swatted on the butt—really hard—for almost getting killed.

“Well.” The chill in Victoria's eyes eased. “Good for you. Far too many people don't like cats.”

“I—Well, hell,” Alex said and earned himself a real frown from his mother. He held up his hand. “I'm sorry, Mother. I didn't realize I hadn't mentioned it at the ball. MacKensie's a vet. Susan already snatched her up to work at the hospital.”

Whoa. The chill disappeared completely, Mac noticed, as Victoria murmured, “A vet. Indeed.”

“Here she goes,” Alex muttered, and then the full force of the woman's personality came to bear on Mac.

“Alex is obviously quite amiss in his introductions. I presume he neglected to tell you that I run a cat rescue.”

Mac's jaw dropped. “You?”

“Me. One of the finest in the state. And we have many, many veterinarians”—she glanced around the room with a smile—“who volunteer to help spay and treat our residents.” Victoria tilted her head and waited.

Frak, the woman was way too much like her son. “I… Well, I just started working, but…I'd be delighted to volunteer as soon as I know my schedule.” Actually she would. She'd put in many hours back home doing just that. Her smile felt natural this time. “I really would be happy to help.”

“Excellent. You'll have to invite me over to meet…Chef.” Victoria accepted a drink from the bartender with a nod of thanks. “Such names.” She shook her head. “A few years back, I instructed my son to get a butler for his parties.” She took a sip of her drink, nodded approval at the bartender. “Perhaps I might have indulged in a slight amount of nagging.”

Mac kept her mouth from dropping open. The regal posture couldn't hide the laughter dancing in Victoria's blue eyes.

“As you might have discovered, MacKensie, Alex doesn't respond well to orders.”

“Um. No. He reacts rather badly.” Mac felt a flush creeping up her face. Just this afternoon she'd instructed him to relax rather than building a cat condo. He'd gagged her and cuffed her to a patio post. What kind of man had anchors embedded in posts?

“Exactly,” Victoria said. “So I was quite pleased when he said he'd found a fine butler.”

Mac choked back a laugh as she realized what his mother meant.

“You laugh?” Victoria raised her eyebrows. “I'll have you know, when we were introduced, that incredibly ugly Butler of his licked my ankle .”

Oh Lord, she could just see it. Mac couldn't keep the giggles down.

With a tilt of her head and a smile, Victoria excused herself to see to her guests.

Hope grinned. “Just when I think she's made of ice, she proves me wrong.”

Mac felt a tiny upwelling of hope. Maybe Alex's mother didn't hate her after all. As the others ordered drinks from the bartender, Mac watched Victoria make the rounds, and she realized the woman intimidated every damn person she talked to. Even the congressman.

For the next hour, with either Hope or Alex at her side and eventually by herself, Mac mingled and nibbled on hors d'oeuvres, argued about Seattle and Washington politics, and gossiped about celebrities. She was actually having a good time, she realized. Although a bit conservative, the guests were, without exception, intelligent and involved.