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her. You’ve turned the tables on her. Unintentionally, but she’s the one locked away now. I get to spend time with this other side of you and maybe, someday, the two of you will come together and find a balance.”
                  “Black Betty,” she said and watched Alistair’s face turn to surprise.
                  “You remember?”
                  “No. I read it in a newspaper article. I was a dominatrix?” Bethany felt her face heat just saying the word aloud.
                  “Yes.” Alistair seemed to be holding his breath.
                  “Did I…did I do that to you?”
                  He let out a sharp laugh. “Only what I let you do. I’m not a very good submissive.”
                  “I am. That’s why I can’t believe it.” She tried to picture herself standing over a collared Alistair. Couldn’t conjure the image.
                  “You’re a good Dom, too,” He said. “I guess you’d had enough submitting and wanted to try the other side of the whip for once.”
                  Alistair took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Listen. Don’t try to force the pieces into place. They’ll all fit back together eventually.” He kissed her forehead. “Get some rest. I’ll come wake you when we land.”
                  He left the room, shutting the door behind him. Bethany scooted up onto the bed and rested her head on the pillow. To be taken care of without any strings attached? Alistair Ingram had to be too good to be true, and if it seemed too good to be true, it probably was.
                   
     
                   
     
                   
     
                  TEN
     
                   
                  “You find him and you get an exclusive spread,” Alistair said, talking in his cell phone back in his seat on the plane.
                  Buckley was the biggest pain in the arse paparazzi Alistair had ever come across. He’d been hounded by Buckley for years, no matter where he tried to hide.
                  “If anyone can find the bloody bastard, you can.” Alistair said.
                  “You land in Cozumel in thirty minutes,” Buckley said, proving Alistair’s point. “But I’m no private detective.”
                  Alistair dangled the carrot he knew Buckley couldn’t refuse. “We’re buying a new place when we get back from Cozumel. You get pictures—inside and out. Whatever you want.”
                  Buckley grumbled an indecipherable string of words on the other end of the line. “Fine. What’s his name?”
                  “Trent and I have an address from ten years ago.” Alistair rattled off the address Bethany had written down on the notepad the night she woke up in the hospital.
                  “That’s it?” Buckley groaned. “That’s not much to go on.”
                  “More than you usually have about my whereabouts, but you always find me.”
                  “I follow your ass around. It’s not hard to know where you’re going. But, some guy named Trent and a ten year old address? I don’t know, man. I’ll see what I can do.”
                  “You can find him. I’ll check in with you in a few days.”
                  He ended the call and looked out at the blue water far, far beneath the plane. If Buckley found Trent, then what? There was no evidence he was the one who broke in and battered Bethany. The police weren’t looking for him. Was Alistair going to have him killed? How could he keep this man out of Bethany’s life?
                  Fucking hell, he didn’t know. All he knew was that he had to find the man. That first, then he’d figure out the