Claiming Cleo (Masters Club 2)

But then she frowned. “It sounds like something real is happening here. But you say he’s released you from the terms of the contract. So what’s next?”

“I don’t really know,” Cleo said pensively. “Everything is turned on its head right now. I no longer know what to think, or even exactly what I want. I spent so long getting over the guy, empowering myself and all that, that on some level it feels like capitulating to even consider anything beyond our auction contract. I mean, what can the future really hold for us, anyway? He lives across the world.”

She finally settled on a sleeveless pale blue draped silk halter top that would allow her to go braless without being over-obvious, over black rayon slacks and high heels that would add a few inches to her five-foot-nothing stature.

As she examined herself in the mirror, Jess pronounced, “You look stunning, Cleo. I’m not used to seeing you in clothing,” she added with a laugh.

“I’m not that used to it myself, these days,” Cleo replied, grinning at Jess’s image behind her in the mirror.

“It’s kind of funny,” Jess mused, watching from her perch on the bed as Cleo pulled out and then discarded several outfits. “He’s from New York but lives in London. You’re from London but live in New York. Maybe you could split your time—you go see him, he goes to see you…”

Cleo shook her head. “Nope. I refuse to do some long-distance thing. It’s not real. Everyone is always on their best behavior.”She turned around to face her friend, her grin falling away. “I’m thirty-two years old. If and when I find a guy, it’s got to be real—all-in or nothing. I’m perfectly happy staying here and serving Mistress Dominique and Master Grayson, and all the Doms here at the New York Masters Club. This time with Master Jack has been awesome, but I’ve been hurt too many times before to imagine this will have a happily-ever-after fairy-tale ending. Most probably, he’ll go back to London in a few days. I’ll stay here. And that’ll be that.”

Even as she tried to assert these brave words, Cleo’s heart ached with the anticipated loss, again, of Master Jack. But, no. To lose something, you had to possess it in the first place. She needed to keep her wits about her, and not succumb to the longing in her heart.

“Bullshit,” Jess snapped.

“Excuse me?” Cleo retorted, brows raised.

“This is different, and you know it. Look at me. I never in a million years imagined I’d end up with Master Cameron. And if you hadn’t been there, supporting me all the way through, I might have blown it the same way you’re talking about doing.”

“It takes two to tango,” Cleo replied. “And you know how guys can be. They really, really mean it when they’re spouting all those sweet nothings and promising endless flowers and chocolates. But then”—she snapped her fingers—“they disappear. As much as I’m falling for the guy, Jack Hartford is no exception. He’s quite practiced at the art of disappearing. I have to be careful. It could happen again. It probably will.” She sighed. “It’s the story of my life.”

A sudden recollection of her mother, looking so sad as she stroked Cleo’s hair while putting her to bed, slipped into Cleo’s mind, startling her. She barely remembered her mother and didn’t remember her father at all. She tucked away the memory to take out later and examine.

Aloud, she said, “I pick guys who leave me. It’s what I do.”

“No,” Jess said firmly. “That might be what happened in the past. It doesn’t have to define you going forward. Not if you don’t want it to.”

Sudden tears filled Cleo’s eyes. Jess sounded so positive—so sure. If only Cleo could be, too. Her fragile heart couldn’t take another blow.

Jess patted the bed. “Hey,” she said, her voice gentler now. “Come sit beside me a minute.”

Cleo came over and sat on the bed. Jess put her arm around Cleo, pulling her close. More tears filled Cleo’s eyes, one spilling over down her cheek.

“What is it, honey?” Jess asked. “You seem so sad when everything you’ve described about the past few days has been beyond wonderful. The man you longed for—the guy you thought you’d never have, flew across the world to find you. I’d say that’s pretty damn awesome, no matter what else happens.”

“I know,” Cleo said, laughing a little as she wiped away her tear. “It is absolutely stunning. The thing is, I’m terrified. There’s so much history between us. Before Annette was killed, it was always Master-Jack-and-Annette—one word in my brain. They were a couple, and though I was quietly, stupidly in love with Jack from afar, I understood it wasn’t an option.”

She pulled away from Jess and turned to face her. “Then, after she died, and he finally came back to the club, I had these impossible but persistent fantasies that I would be the one to come in and save him. He would realize he was madly in love with me, and he would claim me for his own. As you know, that didn’t happen. Quite the opposite, in fact. It was even tougher, in a way, than when Annette was alive. Then, at least, I could accept that he would never be mine, as he belonged to another. I admired him all the more for his obvious and steadfast devotion to his wife.