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situation she wasn’t entirely sure she could handle. Because of that and because her hand was cold he enfolded it in his, offering warmth and reassurance.

Faint surprise crossed her remarkable features, as well as a bit of relief.

“It would be my pleasure,” he said and meant it, already liking the complicated woman who had captured Tyler’s interest. “I would love to sketch you.”

“I would like to see all your tattoo art.”

It startled a laugh out of him. “We’ll negotiate it out.” He would sketch her and give the result as a gift to Tyler, for it was obvious she was about three steps away from being devoured by the look in his eyes alone.

“Marguerite.” In two strides, Tyler caught up with them, took her free arm.

Keeping his hand on Josh’s shoulder to hold him there, Tyler took her lips in a hard kiss, his hand moving to her nape. When he let her go, his grip on Josh’s shoulder eased, but he kept the three-way contact, a message that Josh had his confidence in her care. Marguerite noted Josh had automatically stayed in place at the commanding touch. She lifted her eyes to Tyler’s face, the promise there.

“I won’t be long. I’ll come to you as soon as I’m able. Sooner,” he added, with a touch of frustration in his tone that would have made her smile if she weren’t so overwhelmed with need. Nodding, she turned and moved away with Josh out of the pool house. Onto the path to a whole new world for herself.

67

Joey W. Hill

Chapter Seven

Tyler seriously considered fabricating an outbreak of salmonella in the hors

d’oeuvres and an impending locust plague, either of which would require everyone to leave now. He hoped he was embroiled in his last conversation of the evening, which he’d strategically arranged to be on the edge of the crowd near the gardens so he could slip away. He’d had to force his mind to stay on the courtesies required of a host to ensure his guests were enjoying themselves and where appropriate, achieving their objectives in attending.

But with every moment that passed a beast stirred within him, growing ever more hungry and ferocious. She’d come to him at last. Was waiting for him. His mind was full of her, every delicious move of her body in that dress that should have been illegal for public consumption. The way her hand had brushed down Josh’s arm, the graceful fingers playing on his skin while her eyes challenged him. The damned sorceress.

He’d had submissives that enjoyed flirting and being coy in a pretty way, playfully goading the Dominance from him. Marguerite was a Mistress who demonstrated the tendencies of a submissive only under his touch. Even there she had a Mistress’s aggressive way of unsheathing her claws to drive him insane. Well, it worked. He reminded himself the last group he was with right now were all promising talents deserving of his attentiveness and encouragement. He therefore tried not to convey the deadly impatience of a predator coming out of hibernation, ready to tear into whatever stood between him and dinner.

Backing away with a smile and nod, he caught hold of Sarah, passing him with

another tray of wine. “Sarah, Michael Atlas is going to take over as host for the rest of the evening. Anything he needs, just help him out. If he wants to line up all the cars and drive a monster truck over them, let everyone run naked across the front lawn or hunt down locals for human sacrifice, I don’t care. Just don’t disturb me.”

“You look disturbed enough as it is.” She chuckled. “She’s by the Aphrodite statue with Mr. Martin.”

“He’s probably coaxed her out of her clothes for a modeling session.”

“I’m sure he values his life far more than that. Plus, Miss Marguerite has seemed very resistant to your considerable charms. I can’t imagine Mr. Martin would succeed where you’ve had limited success.”

“Remind me tomorrow why I don’t fire you for your backhanded compliments.

And keep in mind it depends on whether the woman in question wants to tempt me to commit homicide.”

Sarah laughed as her employer disappeared down the garden path. She wondered

if he would break into an undignified sprint and hurdle the hedges once out of her 68

Mirror of My Soul

sight. Robert would be sorely aggrieved if a single branch of his rosebushes was snapped. She’d have to put the blame on Mr. Winterman’s rowdier guests.

Tyler did take a couple of shortcuts, but avoided the drastic assault on the

vegetation that Sarah had feared. He came upon Josh and Marguerite, bathed in the moonlight gleaming off the statue of the goddess. Marguerite sat on the edge of the koi pond, trailing her fingers in the water, letting the fish nibble at them. Josh was lying on the soft grass, hands linked behind his head, staring up at the stars, one bare foot propped up on the fountain wall next to her thigh. She clasped the fold of his jeans at his calf as she leaned over to play with the fish, demonstrating that casual intimacy a Mistress employed so easily. So deliberately. The edge of the mid-thigh skirt had inched up her bare leg. Tyler’s mouth nearly watered at the idea of pushing her to her back, spreading those long legs and burying his face in her heat, making her bow up and cries of pleasure break from her sinfully tempting mouth.

“Okay. Here’s another one.” Josh spoke, still looking up at the stars. “Favorite movie.”

“Armageddon.”

Josh tilted his head down. “Now that surprises me. I would have expected some

artsy foreign chick-flick I’m expected to know about just because I travel in artsy circles.”

“Do I look that pretentious?” Her eyes glinted and she made a figure eight over a koi with the pale white color of a phantom. He turned in endless circles, following her impression in the water, apparently happy to please her with the game. Tyler knew just how the

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