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him, clinging, desperate.
    He drank in her surrender; then with purpose, he gripped her wrists and pinned her arms behind her back. Inexorably, he drove her to her knees, never breaking his lips from hers. She strained to stay connected, her mouth open and willing.
    When he finally allowed her to breathe, he stopped at the sight of her. Her hair was loose and flowing, mussed by his touch. Her lips were full and used, ready for his cock if he wished it. Her eyes were half-closed, drowsy, contented.
    She sighed, and his control almost snapped. Temptation was in every curve, every heavy-lidded glance, every tremble of her newly awakened body. He could take her now and give them both pleasure.
    But that wasn’t what she had signed up for.
    He stepped back and commanded her attention. If sex had been all he wanted from Anelda Armstrong, he would never have considered the fraternization clause. He had sensed in her the strongest need to connect, to belong. It was hidden in her words, the way she treated her staff, in the matriarchal role she played.
    It took several minutes for Nell to realize she wasn’t being seduced any longer, and that made him smile. She had been alone too long, and he was going to see to it that it didn’t happen again.
    When she opened her eyes and stared at him, he raised his eyebrows and glared. To his delight, she immediately lowered her gaze to the floor, hurt and confusion tightening her features. Later, she would be glad he hadn’t rushed this, consummated their connection too soon.
    “Have you thought of a safe word yet, Anelda?
    He loved the way her gaze sparkled as she glared at him. After all, the more she broke the rules, the more he got to punish her. She lifted a hand and brushed her hair away from her face. “Why do you keep calling me Anelda, Sir? It’s demeaning. Everyone calls me Nell, and I prefer it that way.”
    “Why do you have such a difficult time following the rules?” She immediately shifted her gaze but only to stare over his shoulder. “A safe word, Anelda,” he said in a hard tone.
    Confusion filled her eyes, and he had to force himself to remain aloof. She had to understand what she faced. Every resistance was a challenge to his dominance, and he would meet it. But he would not engage unless she had a way out.
    “Why are you doing this?” she demanded.
    “Sir. Why are you doing this, Sir.” He towered over her and blocked the exit with his body.
    “Sir,” she whispered. “Why are you doing this, Sir?”
    “Because you want to belong,” he said simply.
    Her breath hitched, and she made a slight noise, almost a heartbreaking sigh. It tore at him, made him long to hold her. But beginnings were fragile. She was fragile. If he was too soft, she would wiggle out of it, convince herself it meant nothing.
    For a full minute, she said nothing, made no sound at all. Her head was bowed, and the curtain of her hair hid her face from him. This was the turning point. Mark knew it. She’d thought the decision was made, little realizing it would be made again and again, every step of the way. But this was the final step toward something else, something kinky.
    She raised her head but didn’t meet his gaze, keeping hers on the floor. “Salmon.”
    He almost laughed. “Why salmon?”
    She tipped her shoulder slightly. “I hate salmon. If I don’t like something, it’ll be easy to remember.”
    “Salmon it is.” He leaned down and gripped her elbows to raise her to her feet. “Come with me.”
    As she rose, she shot him a nervous glance and bit her lip. The trick with Nell was to keep her from getting the upper hand. When she let go of control completely, he wanted to be there. To get her to that point was going to take time. Maybe more time than he had. He had to give her a taste, and that might be all she allowed herself.
    It was important to have few expectations of her. He’d been planning this, thinking about scenes, learning about her for months. She hadn’t a