Sam’s throat tightened. How had that affected his little girl? After a minute, he realized Nicole had bottled up her emotions, but just with her mother. She still talked with others, laughed, showed how she felt. Nicole pushed away only Nancy.

Sam had locked all the doors with himself inside. Nicole was stronger than he was.

“Sam?” A light touch on his arm. “I mean, Master Sam?”

He straightened and looked down. Linda.

“Are you all right?” Concern filled her gentle eyes. For him. He’d been rude to her, had pulled away, and she still worried about him. The woman hadn’t a clue how special she was. Or what she meant to him. His fault.

“Linda—”

“I don’t know what you’re thinking about, but stop.” Her expression showed only sweetness as she put her arms around him. “I love you, Sam. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but honey, I do love you.”

Warmth spread through him, dissolving the ice that had started to grow. He put his arms around her and pulled her closer. She didn’t know what she was offering. She shouldn’t love a person so messed up.

“Figure out if you want that experience to determine the rest of your life.” Did he let Nancy win, or did he fight? He swallowed. “I told you that my ex-wife is a drug addict. She always needed drugs, and she’d use anything I told her as ammunition to get what she wanted. I stopped sharing.”

Linda didn’t look up, just tightened her grip.

His mouth flattened. “Nancy came to the farm last Sunday. That’s why—” Hell, how did people do this? He couldn’t. He pulled her closer, not wanting to let her go. But he must. “I’m sorry. I’m not good for you, girl.” He gently set her from him and walked—fled—toward the dungeon.

LINDA SAGGED AGAINST the back of a couch, staring after Sam. She’d said she loved him—and he’d hugged her as if it meant something to him. And he’d apologized and shared. His ex sounded purely horrible.

He’d held her before pushing her away. Her lips curved. He’d said one thing—his hug had said another.

“Whoa, what was all that about?” Sally slipped an arm around her and leaned her hip on the couch. “He sure didn’t look happy with you.”

Linda shook her head. “He told me something about his ex. She sounds like a real bitch.”

“Seriously? He never talks about his wife. Or much of anything else, come to think of it.”

But he’d opened up for her, cracked his wall of silence. I love you, Sam, and I see you’re trying. Don’t give up—we can do this. “He’s definitely confusing me.” She huffed a sigh. “But I can’t think about it now. Time to get to work.” She had a slaver to find.

“I’m on the other side of the room,” Sally said, “but I’ll try to keep an eye on you.”

Linda gave her a squeeze. “Thanks.” And Sam would watch over her. She never doubted that for a second.

* * * *

See who was now a trainee. The spotter pretended to watch a girl-on-girl scene as he studied the redheaded ex-slave. Quite interesting that she’d become one of Z’s trainees. He could see her getting involved with a Dom—after all, the Association “harvested” women in the lifestyle. But the trainee duties seemed rather beneath her.

He wasn’t complaining though. Now he’d have a chance to enjoy her. A pale- redhead whose skin would mark up beautifully. He liked seeing the results of his efforts.

He also preferred the older women, who were less brittle than the young ones, more adaptable, with a stronger core.

And he loved breaking masochists. If they were terrified enough or the pain was the type they hated, he could keep them out of subspace. Hurt them in ways that made them scream.

He was uncomfortably hard as the redhead walked past the bar. Unfortunately, since she was a new trainee, he’d get no chance at her tonight. But eventually? Most definitely.

Maybe he could talk her into meeting him somewhere. He needed some relief. His kills had been discovered, and the reporters were having a field day announcing a serial killer who chopped off his victim’s hair. And that the women were all prostitutes. Last night in the red-light district, he’d spotted four plainclothes officers. Even worse, the whores weren’t getting into cars.

As he watched her talk with people, he frowned. Her demeanor seemed…off. After greeting a Dom, she’d tilt her head as if listening intently and the man would get a careful study. Her attitude wasn’t that of a submissive looking for a master.

Uneasiness made him stiffen as she walked past. Her gaze flickered over him. When her body language didn’t change, he relaxed. She didn’t recognize him.

She would though.

He’d enjoy reminding her of where they’d “met.” Right before he started on her with his knife.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Later that evening, Sam released the first shift of trainees and put the second shift to work as barmaids. After matching Dara and Sally with Doms who fit their interests, he saw Linda moving toward the bar.

She walked past the two FBI agents who were—apparently—arguing the merits of a female president, and set her tray of empties in front of Cullen.

“Thank you, pet,” the bartender said. As he tugged her hair, she gave that low, open laugh that always lifted Sam’s spirits.

Damn, he’d missed her.

A Dom seated at the bar chatted with her and ran his hand down her bare upper arm. Her back muscles tightened. She didn’t like the guy’s touch.

Sam stalked over. “Trainee. Come with me.”

She glanced over her shoulder, and her eyes widened. “Yes, Sir.” To Sam’s satisfaction, she obeyed instantly, pulling away from the Dom.

Sam closed his hand around her nape, enjoying the shiver she gave at his touch, then guided her to a quieter place in the room. “You got any idea of what you want to do now, girl?”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It’s my job to see that you meet Doms and explore the areas you’re interested in.” Z, with typical thoroughness, had made Linda complete the trainee paperwork, including a limits list. Earlier, Sam had checked the file and noted activities they hadn’t tried.

“But I’m not here to, uh, explore.”

“I know.” He moved forward, past her personal boundary and into intimate space. Another inch and her gorgeous breasts would rub against his chest. Or his rapidly hardening cock would nudge her lower stomach.

Rather than stepping back, she made an infinitesimal movement toward him.

Oh, hell yeah, she still wanted him. “Part of the night is saved for a trainee to gain experience, and it will look odd if you don’t. Got anyone in mind you want to play with?”

“Play with…someone?” She pulled in a breath. “Of course. I-I knew that.” He watched as she recovered. “I can do that. I did the first time I came here, didn’t I?”

So damned brave. He might have called her bluff, but she wasn’t in a good place to be teased. His hand moved of its own accord and cupped her cheek. “Linda, it’s your choice. Would you rather play with me?”

The answer showed so clearly in her beautiful brown eyes that he didn’t need her to speak. Although the hesitation before she said, “Yes. If you wouldn’t mind,” felt like an insult.

For the insult, he answered, “No problem. Part of the job.”

At the flicker of hurt in her face, he cursed himself and curved his hands on each side of her neck, letting his thumbs stroke her jawline. “More than that, girl.” He pushed past the bottleneck on his words and continued. “I’d like to play with you. I always have.” Always will.

Tears gleamed in her eyes before she blinked them back. “Okay. Okay then. Now what?”

Tough little woman. Too damn tough and brave for her own good. “Are you up for a full scene? Pain, bondage, sex?”

She bit her lip, and he could read her too easily. Her head said no, but the rest of her wanted him. The relief that she hadn’t given up on them shook him.

When she nodded, he couldn’t keep from moving closer. From kissing her. He’d missed the pleasure of taking her mouth. “It’s a good night for role-playing.”

She looked intrigued. “Like what?”

Like a scene he’d planned a while back. Her speech in the entry about being programmed had shoved it to the top of the list. “A reversal of the businessman-secretary role-play. A game within a game.”

Her brows drew together.

“I give you tasks and ask questions. You must answer honestly. But I also want you to act out. Be a brat. Be rude. Do the tasks badly. When you do, you’ll get rewarded by being punished in a way we’ll both like. However, if you’re quiet and well-behaved, I’ll make you do things you won’t find appealing.”

Her mouth dropped open. “What’s the point of that?”

“I’ll explain later. Maybe.” Would she figure it out? He rubbed her cheek with his knuckles, enjoying the softness. “Upstairs in the Purple Room, Z keeps fetish and costume wear. Put on secretarial clothing. No underwear. Hair up off your neck. Glasses. Bring me a suit coat when you come down. Extra-large. I’ll see you in the office-theme room in ten minutes.”