Desired (Club Sin 3)

Sean’s hesitation was a little longer this time. “Is he threatening you?”

She snorted. “He’s in Vegas and is breaking the restraining order. That is threatening enough.”

Sean sighed. “Did you know he got himself into AA?”

She didn’t give a flying flip if he was stone-cold sober. “Good for him. But that changes nothing. Get him to go home, Sean.”

“I’ll do my best,” was all he said.

Then the phone went dead.

Which was exactly the same response she had received from all of her so-called friends. They blamed her for leaving Rory. As though she owed Rory a second chance. Now she knew better, even if their coldness stung. She thought Sean would side with her, as a cop, but all of Rory’s friends called it one screwup.

Maybe it was.

It still changed nothing.

Rory was in her past, a place she wanted to keep him in forever. Whatever love she had for him was gone and could never be found again. Turning to her computer, she opened her personal e-mail account and fired off an e-mail to her lawyer. Waiting to talk to Derek was not an option anymore, not with Rory in Vegas.

Derek,

Rory just showed up in Vegas at my work. Please tell me that is enough of a violation of the mediation agreement to proceed with the divorce.

All the best,

Ella

After his day shift, a hard rock formed in Kyler’s stomach once he’d picked up Ella after work. The tightness had developed the moment he saw her, but now, sitting in the Steak House, his stomach roiled. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what the trouble was—only that her smile looked strained and her gaze was unusually guarded.

The clanging of a fork against a plate snapped him out of his thoughts. He glanced to Dmitri sitting next to him, and his friend laughed at something Presley joked about. The double date had been his idea, since he wanted Ella more permanently in his life.

In the restaurant with the wood paneling on the walls and black linens on the tables, Ella looked down to her plate. “Oh my God, this steak is to die for.”

“Mine, too.” Presley grinned.

Kyler glanced down to his half-eaten prime rib dinner, but his stomach couldn’t handle it all. He turned to Ella and examined her. What’s wrong, sweetheart? While she laughed with Presley and they seemed to get along well, tension radiated from Ella. Whatever had happened today, it wasn’t good.

Right then, a firm kick knocked his leg under the table. Kyler groaned, glancing at Dmitri. His friend gave him a what’s-up-with-you? look.

If only I knew …

Kyler grabbed his beer and took a long swig. The cool, crisp liquid eased his dry throat. While he had assumptions about her troubles, he didn’t know how to broach the subject. So, Ella, is the person abusing you still in your life? Are you running from him or her? Do you have emotional scars from the abuse? Will I harm you further if I take you into a BDSM scene?

Not an appropriate question to ask a woman he was only just getting to know, especially when Ella had been adamant about not wanting a relationship. He held no doubt he could gain her trust to share her most private thoughts inside the dungeon. Out of it, he had no idea how to knock down this wall between them.

It seemed unbreakable.

Of course, he could ask her again, but any talk of her past during their telephone conversations and she shut down. He might care for her and want to fulfill her desires, but he wasn’t blind to her pain. Until she shared more about the abuse, he wouldn’t dare take her too far into a scene, whether she wanted it or not.

How could he take a flogger to her, suspecting she’d been abused? He couldn’t. Not without knowing the effect it would have on her. Not without getting whatever plagued her out in the open. Not without her trusting him first.

Play lightly, he reminded himself.

Dmitri frowned at Kyler before he turned to Ella. “Do you like it here in Vegas, Ella?”

“I do, very much.” She smiled. “It’s a crazy-ass city.”

“I thought so, too, when I first moved here,” Presley said. “But all the lights and dazzle slowly become normal.” She cut into her steak, then asked Ella, “Do you miss Savannah?”