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ankle-high white picket fence bracketed a planter full of now pruned flowers. Neat. Orderly. Impersonal. It effectively concealed, from any uptight neighbors, the face and lifestyle of the man who owned it, who happened to be the community's former Slave Master, and who now, appeared to be content cohabitating with his slave. Seth enjoyed a firm place in the community she'd just been booted from, while she sat alone in her car, outside his nice townhouse, sweating in the summer sun.
    Was that fair? No!
    Annabel yanked open the door and grinned as the metal-on-metal screech broke the silence of the posh neighborhood. It was as good as a herald of trumpets as far as she was concerned. But the obstinate door resisted efforts to close and lock it. She was forced to slam it three times before it stayed shut. A jiggle of the handle proved it had also obeyed her vitriolic suggestions to remain locked.
    Then, and after taking a moment to smooth her hair and compose herself, she hauled her tote over her shoulder, marched up the driveway and took the footpath to the front door...which opened as she approached. Zach lounged in the doorway, wearing blue-gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt. Shoe and sockless, he stood with a glass of iced-tea in his hand and his two-dimpled smile. He had cute toes.
    "Welcome," he said and offered her the glass. "For you."
    She accepted, but passed on sipping from it.
    "Come in, please." He opened the door wider and stood aside, offering a gentlemanly gesture of one arm. "Welcome."
    She sniffed the tea as she stepped over the threshold. She detected the subtle hint of fruit in the blend. No scent of any illicit drugs wafted from her glass, but then, she wasn't a bloodhound.
    He shut the door. Something about the way he did that raised the hairs at the nape of her neck. Or was it the way he chuckled...a sound full of the promise of decadent joys. She tried to ease the sudden tension with the punch line of an old joke.
    "Said the spider to the fly," she said.
    Zach's smile widened.
    A new guy in a new environment--disregarding the fact she'd been in this place before--bore some investigation. The life she'd lived before Jeremy had taught her that much.
    "I'll be right back," she said. Setting the tea on the hall tree bench, she proceeded to do a little reconnaissance. Did either Seth or Jeremy hide in one of the rooms? She didn't find signs of anyone else in the home, but she did find evidence of a recent move: boxes, loose hangers, bags of clothing.
    Things looked to be okay, so she returned to the living room, where Zach waited. He'd crossed his arms over his chest and had propped himself against the fireplace. As she walked back to him, an amused expression flittered across his face.
    "Find anything?" he asked.
    "Your bathroom is amazingly clean for a bachelor's pad."
    He barked a laugh. "Seth has threatened me with surprise inspections of his property."
    The warning didn't amuse her. "Take him seriously."
    His expression shifted to one of puzzled curiosity. Furrows wrinkled his brows, and the edges of his eyes tightened. She'd tripped his curiosity switch. That wasn't a good thing regarding her past. Some things were better left dead and buried.
    Forestalling any questions he might think to ask, she turned to her glass of tea and carried it into the kitchen, where she dumped the contents into the sink. Plucking a fresh glass from the cupboard, she located the pitcher in the fridge and filled it with another serving. She turned to head back into the other room and found Zach standing near the oven.
    A startled yelp escaped her at the sight.
    She hadn't heard him move.
    Shouldn't she have heard him limp?
    His gaze traveled between her and the fridge, lingering a moment on the glass in her hand. "I used supermarket brand peach-and-green tea. I didn't use roofies."
    She felt her cheeks warm. Thankfully, her makeup would conceal any sign of a blush. Her Domina persona remained in play. Better use it, she told