Masters 01 Master of the Mountain (26 page)

She nodded, apparently willing to obey his orders.

* * * * *

As Logan left the room, Rebecca felt tears prickle at her eyes. It had taken all her resolve not to break down and drench the man in tears again. He'd rescued her. And then he'd actually carried her every time she started to give out. Carried her. And taken care of her like she was his…his girlfriend or something. Surely he wouldn't have climbed into the shower with any of the other guests.

She sighed, knowing her emotions were messed up from exhaustion and fear. Her body felt like she'd run a marathon, so she did what Logan had ordered. Finished the food, drank the water, and took a nap.

Tapping at the open door wakened her. “Yes?” She blinked and looked around. Logan must have been in earlier, since all the bedroom lights were off. She glanced at the glowing clock. Ten thirty. She'd been asleep almost three hours. “Come in,” she called.

She could hear footsteps, and then Matt appeared in the doorway. “Hey, babe. How are you doing?”

“Better.” She grimaced. “I wrenched my ankle good, though.”

“So I hear.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I didn't realize you'd gone off by yourself. Why didn't you come and get me?”

“I didn't think I had time to run around looking for a hiking partner. I was too worried about Thor.” And rightly so. He had been hurt and needed her. “Did you see him? Is he all right?”

“Yeah, Logan doctored his foot and wrapped up his paw.” Matt grinned. “Thor had the gauze off in minutes.”

Rebecca laughed, and the worry knot in her stomach loosened. Thor would be all right.

“Anyway, I wanted to ask you about tomorrow. I'd planned to leave right at dawn. Is that still going to work for you?”

Unrealistic, Rebecca
. True, she'd never felt like this about any man before, but her home was in San Francisco. Unhappiness settled inside her chest as she realized that Logan had never said anything about her staying or even about seeing her again.

Maybe he felt shy?

Logan? Get real
. Maybe she could bring the subject up? Somehow?

But Matt needed an answer now. Make plans now, they could always be changed later. “Dawn is fine. I'll meet you on the front porch.” She nodded at her suitcase. “Can you leave me some clothes for tomorrow, and take the suitcase now? With my ankle screwed up, I'm not sure I can haul it down the stairs.”

“Sure.” He knelt by the suitcase and pulled out a bra and panties first, added jeans, and held up a top. “Will this shirt be okay?”

A painful pang shot through her. No more of Logan's flannel shirts. “Sure.” She didn't even bother to see which one. “Works fine.”

“Good.” He set the clothing in a stack on the dresser, then picked the suitcase up. “I'd better go, so you can get some sleep.

She dredged up a smile. “See you in the morning.”

* * * * *

After Logan returned from making the rounds of the lodge, he checked the main room. With Thor at his feet, Jake sat by the fire, talking with Ted and Vince. The two were managers of a recreational sports company, and his brother had wanted to get a good deal on new equipment for the lodge.

Logan nodded at Ted and Vince, then asked Jake, “Everything all right with the crew?”

“They're good. Most of them are in the game room; three headed for a cabin.”

Logan had heard the bed creaking in cabin three.

“Want a beer, bro?” Jake asked.

A beer would go down good, but no. Logan's jaw tightened. “I have things to do that require a clear head.”

“Ah.” Jake gave him an understanding nod. “Don't be too hard on her. She meant well.”

“She almost got herself killed.” Bad enough that she'd be leaving to go back to the city. The thought of finding her body…all the stubbornness, the humor, the warmth gone, her eyes blank. He knew just what traumatic death looked like. His gut twisted, and he turned on his heel.

Once upstairs, Logan walked into the bedroom to find Rebecca reading a book that would have had to come from the bookshelf across the room. She'd been up on that ankle. Trying not to growl, he leaned against the door frame.

So pretty. Her hair waved over her shoulders in the colors of the sunset. Her flannel nightgown reminded him of the ones his mother wore, yet the outline of her full breasts under the soft material made his cock harden. He shoved his lust to the background of his mind.

First things first.

The master in him was furious that she had disobeyed him, disregarded safety rules, and endangered herself. Over the past few days, he had been a Dom to her, and he would continue to teach her, even though the relationship would end soon.
Temporary
. The word tasted bitter in his mouth. He shoved the feeling of loss to one side.

So far, she had learned the easy, fun stuff and had received a taste of light discipline. Would she still submit when he took it a step further? “Becca.”

She started; then her sweet lips curved up, her eyes lighting in a way that made his heart melt. “Logan. Did you get a chance to eat and rest?”

“Enough.” He'd grabbed some food but had been too pissed off to rest. “How's your ankle?”

“It's much better. No pain unless I try to walk on it, and even then, I can put some weight on it.”

The growl in Logan's voice sounded more menacing than Thor's best effort. Rebecca set the book on the nightstand, then gave him a wary look. “I wanted to—”

“Now there's the problem, Becca,” Logan interrupted. He sat beside her hip, the mattress compressing under his weight. His eyes, more gray than blue in color, sent unease trickling down her spine. “If I give an order, I expect it to be obeyed.”

Her eyes narrowed. “If this is that domination stuff, you said it applied only in the bedroom.”

He tilted his head, his eyes never leaving her face. “True. In a way. I'm a dominant, Becca, and my nature doesn't change. Outside the bedroom, you can disagree with me, and we'll work out a compromise.” He took her hand, and the calluses on his fingers felt almost threatening as he rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand. “What happened today, more than once, is that you agreed to obey my orders, and then you disobeyed.”

Disobeyed? “Logan, I'm not a child,” she said, shocked when her voice came out hoarse. A shaking started deep inside her.

“No. You're very much a woman,” he said with a faint smile. “And you're also a sub. My sub—for the moment—”

For the moment
. Why did that phrase hurt so much?

He continued, “Which means I have certain obligations to you, ones that preclude letting you think you can get away with disobeying your Dom.”

His firm words, the look in his eyes, increased the shaking until her fingers trembled in his grasp. She stared at her hand in horror. What was happening to her? She wasn't scared—not exactly—

“Becca, look at me.”

She raised her eyes.

“We can handle this in two ways. If we are just friends and nothing more, I'll lecture you about safety and go back downstairs.”

The thought hurt her chest and tightened her throat. “And the other?” she whispered.

“If I am your Dom for the rest of your time here, then you will be punished as a sub, and we will go on from there.” His free hand stroked her cheek, the gentle touch making her feel as if she were being split in two parts. “A Dom/sub relationship, however short or long, exists only if there is trust and honesty between both parties. So this is your decision, little one. Your answer is either, 'Let's be friends,' or 'I submit, Sir.'”

His hand on her cheek warmed skin that had gone cold and kept her from turning away. His eyes penetrated her, gazed deep inside. She knew he could feel her tremble.
Think, Rebecca
. But her ability to think had disappeared along with her willpower. She couldn't tolerate the idea of being just friends. Not at this point. She swallowed, her throat dry. “I submit, Sir.”

He nodded, no expression on his face. “So be it.” He took her hands and held them firmly. “So I'm clear, this punishment is because you went hiking alone. You didn't even tell anyone where you were going.” His voice roughened. “Another hour, and we wouldn't have found you. More rain is due tonight… You'd have died.”

“Wh-what are you—”

“You do not have permission to speak.”

Oh God, what had she done? Yet the feeling of his hands thrilled her, at least until he pulled her facedown across his legs. She ended up with her head and shoulders hanging down, her hips over his knees, and her feet still on the bed. Head spinning, she put her hands flat on the small rag rug and tried to raise herself. When he lifted her nightgown up and cold air brushed across her bottom, the awful understanding came swiftly.

“A spanking? No way.” She tried to push herself back on the bed without success, then tried to drag herself forward off his lap. Her nightgown was caught on something—probably his fist—trapping her. A hand pressed down on her lower back. “Let me go!”

“This will hurt less if you relax,” he said, as if she hadn't spoken, as if she weren't struggling to escape.

“You son of a—”

Slam!
The blow hit right across her right buttock and stung like crazy.

“Ow!”

He paused. “Let me know when you feel sorry for what you did. Otherwise, I'll simply continue until my hand gets tired.” A pause.

“Damn you!”

Slam
. A pause.