Linda. Like a typical female, she’d primped up. Rather than the heavy makeup she’d worn at the bachelorette party, today she’d gone for quiet and classy. Her hair had grown long enough for her to pull it back in some complicated braid. Her dark green dress hugged her curves and made her skin glow.

He wished she were sitting beside him.

In front of the altar, Cullen handed Z a glittering strand—a necklace—and Sam blinked in surprise. Z planned to collar Jessica in front of vanilla guests? That took balls.

“This chain of links is a symbol of the events that drew us together.” As Z held up a choker of diamond-encrusted links, his lips quirked. “From a car in a ditch to you rescuing women and me rescuing you.”

Sam heard suppressed laughter at the reminder of how Jessica would charge in if she felt another submissive was in trouble.

Jessica gazed up at Z, and her voice was soft but steady. “Since I don’t have any jewelry handy”—she gave him a teasing look—“I offer you the gift of myself: heart, mind, body, and soul. I trust you”—everyone in the lifestyle heard the unspoken Master—“and I’ll wear your gift with joy.” Jessica’s need to offer all of herself was obvious to every Dom in the room and one of the most beautiful things Sam had ever seen.

When she pulled up her hair and bent her neck, Z fastened on the necklace. He lifted her chin. “Kitten, I vow to be worthy of the trust you’ve given me. I’ll protect you, push you to grow, and cherish you with all my heart.”

Z drew her into his arms, and his voice was only audible to the people in the first few rows as he murmured into her hair, “Mine.”

Even as Sam felt his eyes sting, amusement trickled through him. Apparently, he wouldn’t be teasing the ladies about their tears after all.

* * * *

Linda decided the Florida weather had cooperated wonderfully with the wedding, and sunny skies reigned above Z’s private gardens behind the Shadowlands. With a backdrop of purple fountain grass, a five-person band was playing oldies for the guests at tables dotting the green lawn. Linda hummed along, pleased with the selection of tunes. Thank goodness the happy couple hadn’t gone for the edgy techno music played in the Shadowlands.

The area was filling with people. Only the couple’s friends and family had attended the wedding, but the reception included business associates and hometown guests as well as all the Shadowlands members.

She shook her head, feeling at a loss. The ceremony had been lovely, and when they’d given each other D/s vows disguised as a gift of jewelry, her heart had squeezed.

It still did, because she wanted that kind of relationship for herself and Sam. The time with him, each time with him, seemed to get more serious. He demanded more from her, and she gave it. So, so willingly. The desire to offer him…everything…was terrifying.

He cared for her. She knew it, even if he didn’t speak the words. But could she give him what he wanted? Needed? He helped her scrape her house, stood up for her, and held her when she cried. He hurt her. He made love to her. What did she do for him?

He obviously liked her companionship. But she wanted to give him more than a dinner partner or someone to watch movies with. She wanted to support him. And the more she grew to care for him, the more she wanted to offer. But he was so darned self-sufficient.

Frederick had always brought home his problems. By sharing them with her, he might not have found answers, but his burden was lightened. It had been a gift she could offer. But Sam didn’t talk about his concerns. In fact, very little seemed to bother him. And she wanted not only the closeness of sharing worries, but also the joy of being able to help. To comfort and support.

Her chest tightened. Over the past couple of weeks, she’d realized she had an insecurity, something new since her kidnapping. Another one, dammit. But she couldn’t ignore the fact that she wanted Sam to talk to her. No one could possibly be more supportive than he was, yet sometimes she needed the actual words. Needed to hear what he felt about her, about their relationship.

Any woman would want to know how she fitted into a man’s life—and she’d want that no matter what—but she had to admit that the twisting of his silence into something ominous came from her own misgivings. Not his. The slavers had made her feel as if she were an animal. Just an object to fuck. And yes, this was her own screwed-up remnant of that experience, but…it was bothering her.

Linda shook her head, trying to turn her thoughts to something more cheerful.

On the lanai, the bride’s mother and aunt and a horde of women from her small town directed the catering crew, who were still setting food and drink on linen-covered tables. Z smiled at the women, making a gesture that he was leaving them in charge, before returning to the informal reception line.

Linda turned in a circle, marveling at the setting. Jessica had chosen blue and white for her colors, and somehow Z’s garden matched, from the lanai’s hanging pots that spilled over with white alyssum to blue-purple hyacinths and snowflake blooms in the flower gardens. Amazing.

“Hey, Linda.” Wearing a deep red, ruched satin sheath with a plunging neckline, Sally crossed the lawn.

Linda grinned. “I really like that gown—and your versatility. I’ve seen you in braids and a schoolgirl uniform, then dressed as a Domme for the bachelorette party, and now you look incredibly sophisticated.”

Sally gave her a mischievous grin. “I get bored easily.” In much the way that Linda had, she looked back and forth from the nearby cluster of bridesmaids to the matching gardens. “Beth did good.”

“She did all this?”

“Yeah. Z was one of her first big clients, and she busted her butt to make the Shadowlands and his private gardens special. Before, the place was pretty, but all formal. Squares and straight lines.”

“I’d say she paid him back for his trust,” Linda murmured. She’d never seen anything so luxuriant. Even without moving, she glimpsed curving garden paths, splashing fountains, more flower beds, and small, intimate nooks. “It’s like a fantasy garden.”

Overhearing, Beth turned from the bridesmaids and beamed. “Exactly what I was trying to achieve.” She walked over. “But don’t tell Z, okay? Fantasy sounds far too feminine.”

As Sally giggled, Linda choked on a laugh. “Got it.”

“Nolan and I had our wedding here,” Beth said. “It’s nice to see it used that way again.”

Linda followed Beth’s gaze to her husband. She still had trouble believing the slender redhead had married the cruel-looking man. But while Jessica was saying her vows, Beth had blown a kiss at Nolan, and his cold black eyes had warmed, his face softened.

I envy her.

Linda’s marriage to Frederick had been stable, but he hadn’t accepted who she was. To see these loving Dominant/submissive relationships was heartening.

And attending the reception had certain other benefits. “I must say, the gardens are lovely, but the human scenery is also rather fine.” Her gaze wandered to the lanai where the Masters were talking. How the black tuxedoes could make the men look even bigger, she didn’t understand.

Standing with the groomsmen, Sam wore a classic cut, dark gray suit with a white dress shirt and a silver-gray tie that matched his hair. Did the man have to look so dangerously sexy in every darn thing he wore?

“You must be looking at Sam.” Snickering, Beth mimicked wiping drool off her chin. “That’s the way I reacted when I first saw Nolan in a suit.”

Linda’s cheeks warmed. But…wow. The tailoring was superb, showing off his broad shoulders and flat stomach. She had a craving to undress him like a gift-wrapped present. Push his jacket open. Undo the shirt buttons. Run her finger down the deep line between his pectoral muscles. His eyes would light with amusement as if lit by the sun. Maybe he’d grip her hair, firmly push her to her knees, and direct her to free his cock. She’d take him in her mouth. Maybe he’d give her that look she’d never seen him use on anyone else—the one that softened his hard features and made his mouth curve just the slightest bit.

God, she loved the man. Love? She pressed a hand over the stuttering heart that had betrayed her into acting like an idiot in a romance novel. Love between Mr. Sadistic Rancher and Ms. Conservative Businesswoman. Right. How would a relationship between them even work? She still hadn’t figured out how to balance her life as it was.

Then again, love was love. It didn’t exactly conform to a person’s schedule. Her lips curved. Love. Terrifying, yet what a wonderful gift.

Her eyebrows rose when a woman walked up to the Masters and took Sam’s hand. Just like that. Sam’s smile flashed. When he touched the woman’s cheek, almost affectionately, Linda felt the bottom of her stomach drop.

Cold crept up her spine, and then she forced it down. There were lots of Shadowlands people here, and she knew…had seen him play with other women.

I don’t want him to do that. But at the pond, he’d stated they wouldn’t share. Her chest loosened, letting her breathe. She watched him. The woman might want more—he’s mine, darn you—but that touch was all Sam had given her. And she wasn’t getting his “special” smile.