Chapter 1

Isabella loved her job, normally. She’d started there fresh out of college and in the last ten years her dedication and loyalty had paid huge dividends. If the company had corner offices, one of them would be hers. As it was, she’d earned a three-week vacation at the cabin the owner maintained in the Colorado Rockies. The plan had been for her to take that vacation in the spring, but the owner had paid her a visit today and changed that plan.

She walked another block down and made the turn at the corner that would take her to her apartment. Living five blocks from work had pros and cons, but she’d always considered the walk one of the pros - exercise that let her skip the gyms where she’d always felt a little too conspicuous. The messenger bag with her laptop was unusually light, lacking the paperwork that normally weighed it down, so the strap wasn’t digging into her shoulder the way it normally would. Oddly, the missing discomfort irritated her.

Her fingers punched in the security code to release the front door of her building without thought, and she took the stairs to the right out of habit as well. Her first apartment had been on the ninth floor, and it had taken less than the first month to discover she was hideously afraid of heights. Luckily, an apartment on the second floor had been open and the manager had been happy to move her. Most tenants didn’t like being that close to the noise of the sidewalk and street, but Isabella liked the sound of people and the busy lives they led.

Her cell phone rang as she closed her apartment door behind her. Isabella sighed and set her bag down on the table, lifting the flap to pull the phone out and check the display before running her thumb up the screen to accept the call.

“Hello, Greg.” She’d texted her boyfriend before she’d left work in a moment of emotional weakness, and now she wondered if she’d regret that.

“Isabella, do you want to tell me what happened now, or would you like me to come over? I can bring dinner, if you’d like.”

The tension she didn’t realize she’d felt when she answered the call slipped away. They’d been dating for nearly six months, and she still underestimated how well he’d come to understand her. “Dinner would be great, thanks.”

Forty-five minutes later he was at the front door to her building, and she was buzzing him through. He’d picked up pasta from one of her favorite restaurants, and the smell was glorious. She placed two plates and the accompanying silverware on the table. When she turned back to get glasses, he stopped her and pulled a good-sized bottle of wine out of an insulated bag and smiled.

“Your favorite.”

Isabella couldn’t help but laugh a little. “You are entirely too good to me, Greg. Do you know that?”

“I do. Then again, maybe I’m just hoping to get you drunk so I can take advantage of you later,” he replied with an exaggerated leer.

Six months, and they’d done no more than kiss. In the beginning she’d watched his every move, waiting for him to reveal frustration or even anger at her lack of interest. He wasn’t her first relationship, and most of the others had ended in recriminations and accusations that she was a tease who’d deliberately led them on. Attempts to be clear regarding her general lack of interest in sex had been met with feigned understanding. She’d done the same with Greg, expecting similar results, but he’d simply smiled and told her he understood completely.

He handed her the bottle and she poured them both a glass, filling hers somewhat more than she usually preferred with dinner. He took care of filling their plates, and the smell of carbonara lifted her spirits. They sat across from each other and she took a deep drink of wine.

“So,” he said, picking up his fork, “tell me about your day.”

Picking up her fork, she began. The owner’s son he already knew about, she’d told him about Brian when he’d finally graduated from business school and had been given a place in the company. Just as she’d told him about the owner asking her to train the little weasel when it became clear that, owner’s son or not, he had no talent for the business and the clients disliked him almost immediately.

In the last two months, at the request of the owner she respected more than any man she knew, she’d given Brian several of her clients and then guided him through handling their accounts. She’d recognized that he’d never be good at it, but she’d thought he’d made some progress.

Until today.

Until she’d been called into the owner’s office and seen the pain and embarrassment on his face. Brian had been embezzling from the accounts she’d given him, almost from the beginning.

“Well, that fucking bastard.”

Isabella, halfway through her glass of wine, smiled at Greg’s calm assessment.

“Agreed. Bastard or not, those were my accounts and they were still in my name. Which makes it my problem.”

Greg frowned and took a long drink of his wine. His unflappable logic was one of the things she loved about him. She’d never seen him lose his cool, no matter what the situation.

“But the company knows the weasel was the one handling those accounts, right? So they can’t possibly hold you responsible.”

Isabella nodded. “Right, and they don’t. But...” She took another deep drink and a breath. “They’ve got a PR problem that they need to address as quickly as possible. The company replaced the funds, so that’s handled, but that still leaves Brian to deal with. He’s out – all the way out from what I understand – but the concern is that if they simply have me take the accounts back the clients will know there is something wrong.”

Greg leaned in and refilled her glass, then his own. “OK, I can see that, but where does that leave you, Isabella?”

“On vacation.”

Once the dinner dishes had been dealt with, Isabella joined Greg on the couch with a new glass of wine. They’d settled on a pattern early on – whoever provided dinner got a pass on the cleanup – and she’d been pleasantly surprised that he had no problem handling what her mother had called “womanly duties.”

“Vacation. Well that’s interesting, certainly. I don’t suppose they can wait until May, when you’d already planned on a vacation?”

“No, it has to be now. On the plus side, they’ve arranged for me to use the cabin, so there’s that I suppose.”

Greg’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “In February? Are you going to be able to get up there?”

“Oh, yes. There’s a private plow service that is clearing the road this afternoon and the cabin is fully stocked. There are enough food and supplies for three months, and a generator if winter storms knock out the power. Honestly, the more I think about it, the more I like it. Peace, quiet, no need to do anything I don’t feel like doing for an entire month.” She took another deep drink of her wine and enjoyed the flavor on her tongue.

“An entire month? Paid, I assume.” He was watching her closely now, but she didn’t notice.

“Yes, a bit of a bonus for the trouble.” She smiled. “Don’t tell me you’re concerned about me being on my own up there?”

His smile answered hers, and he leaned closer to lay a hand on her knee. “You’re the strongest, most self-sufficient person I know. The only concern I have is that you won’t want to come back!”

“I’ll come back. If nothing else, I’d miss you, wouldn’t I? No one else brings me carbonara when I’ve had a really crappy day.”

Greg set his wine down and considered her for a few moments.

“What if I went with you?”

Isabella’s eyes widened and she took a breath, ready to make a joke, when she realized he was serious. “Go with me?”

“Yes. It wouldn’t be terribly difficult to clear my calendar, and Lord knows I’m overdue for a break. And I think it’s time we explored the next steps of our relationship.”

She gulped down the rest of her wine and tried to concentrate. “I’m not sure what you...”

Greg took her hands in his, and she realized that nerves had chilled them when he began to rub them gently.

“Don’t panic. I understand how you feel about sex. This is more about trust, and intimacy.” He smiled, and continued, “Which may lead to sex. I hope it does, but that would be completely up to you and any decision you make will be fine with me.”

The look she gave him spoke volumes – she’d been down several versions of this road before and “fine” was never one of the destinations.

He smiled at the unspoken message she’d sent, clearer than any words she might have used. Her expressive eyes were one of the first things that drew him to her when they’d met. Her strength and determined independence had cemented his appreciation and eventually, his desire.

“I’m asking you to trust me just a little right now. Enough to invite me to the cabin with you. If you can do that, I’ll ask you to trust me a great deal more once we’re at the cabin. I can promise you that you won’t regret it.”

She stared into his eyes and searched for some sign of deceit but found only calm confidence. Anxiety churned and she fought for the calm she felt she needed.

“And if I refuse? If I go to the cabin ... alone?” She’d force her voice to be cool and steady despite the fluttering in her stomach.

He smiled again and squeezed her hands. “Then I’ll wait for you to come back. Walk your plants, water your dog, that kind of thing.”

A laugh surprised her, followed by unexpected relief.

“I don’t have a dog, and my plants are all plastic.”

“Good, that does make things easier all around, doesn’t it?” He lifted her hands to his lips for a light kiss.

“Can I think about it?” she asked, watching him closely. Any hint of frustration or victory and the decision she was shockingly close to making would be reversed in an instant.

“Absolutely, take as much time as you need. I am at your disposal.”

His eyes met hers steadily, without hesitation, and her decision was made.

“I’ve thought about it. How do you feel about a vacation in the Rockies?”

They drove up to the cabin in separate cars at his suggestion. He knew she’d feel more comfortable if she had a way to leave on her own, and for his plan to have any hope at all she would need to be as relaxed as possible when they arrived. He followed her, although his car’s navigation program provided backup in case they were separated. As they pulled up to the cabin, he realized that he’d never asked for any details about where they’d be staying.

A high, peaked roof blended well with the surrounding mountains and covered what appeared to be two stories. A large central window spanned both floors, allowing a beautiful view of the great room and the impressive fireplace that was already burning in preparation for their arrival. He followed her around to the back of the house where a garage waited for their cars.

“This is the ‘cabin?’” he laughed as she stepped out of her car and into a warm garage.

“Well, they call it a cabin. Would you like the tour?”

She grinned and he followed her through a mudroom full of spare boots and heavy winter coats, into a spacious kitchen. The cabin boasted four bedrooms upstairs, including a master suite with a large jacuzzi tub in the bathroom that she imagined would feel heavenly after a day of skiing. Not that she planned to ski, but since her apartment only had a small shower, she was looking forward to trying it out.

They ended up back in the great room, sitting in front of the fire, and she hesitantly broached the subject that had been on her mind since they’d arrived.

“About the sleeping arrangements...”

“Isabella, have you been worrying about that the entire way up here?” he took her hand in his and rubbed a thumb over her knuckles.

She felt the light blush in her cheeks and was immediately irritated with herself. She straightened her shoulders and met his gaze.

“Not worried, no. Just ... wondering.” She sighed, hearing the unintended equivocation in her voice and continued. “When we first began dating, I told you I wasn’t interested in sex, that it held no interest for me. I know that some men find that a challenge...”

“Some men are juvenile and moronic.” Greg frowned, considering the type of history that would prompt that worry. Isabella hadn’t been secretive about her previous relationships, but he hadn’t investigated beyond the fact that they’d existed. He recognized that his ego had written them off as insignificant, but it was clear they hadn’t been to her, whether she realized it or not.

“At any rate, I meant what I said. I know that you have a reasonable expectation of intimacy at some point - God knows that six months is well past that point under normal circumstances – but I’m concerned that you won’t be...” she searched for the word that best fit and found herself settling for, “ ... pleased with my response.” Or lack thereof, she thought to herself.

The crackling fire was the only sound for several minutes while Greg considered how best to proceed. Isabella had an unerring bullshit detector, and it was that that decided him.

“Isabella, I’d like to talk to you about that, and several other things besides, but we’ll begin there. You’ve been very clear that you see your sex drive as lacking, and I appreciate that. You are, as a rule, a very self-aware person and I believe that your assessment is probably accurate. Or at least, accurate as far as you know. I would also suggest that control is very important to you, do you agree?”

She frowned and nodded. “I know I can come across as a control freak...”

“No. You’re not a control freak,” in his head he cursed every person who’d ever used that phrase. “You’re strong, and you know what you need. You don’t like to lose control because you associate that with bad things.

The problem is that enjoying sex is often about losing some measure of control. If you’ve never been comfortable enough to do that, then sex is pleasant enough but nothing particularly special.”

Isabella looked down at her hand in his and nodded slowly. “I do trust you, Greg. But I’ve trusted other guys, too, and it just ... doesn’t work somehow. I mean, it’s not unpleasant but it’s not really good, either.”

Greg took a breath and dove into the opening she’d given him.

“Yes, I know you trust me. And I know you trusted other men before. In your apartment I said that I’d be asking you to trust me a great deal more, remember?” She nodded, keeping her eyes on his. “I’d like to try something I don’t think you’ve tried before, and I’m asking you to trust me enough to hear me out.”

He waited until she nodded again before continuing.

“I’d like to try bondage with you.”

Long minutes passed without any change in her expression and he wondered if she was working up the strength to punch him. He suspected she’d have an impressive right hook and sincerely hoped he wouldn’t be finding out in the next few seconds. The fact that she hadn’t immediately pulled her hand away and run screaming was a hopeful sign, he thought.

“Bondage?” Her voice was calm, but he could see a storm swirling in her eyes. He nodded and hoped his silence would reassure her.

She took a breath, then tipped her head to one side and considered him. Part of her wondered why she hadn’t just popped him in the nose as soon as the word had come out of his lips. A bigger part of her wondered if this was the answer to the problem she’d never really considered a problem. His calm expression didn’t change, but she was nearly certain he wasn’t as relaxed as he appeared to be.

“You want me to tie you up?” she asked, her voice dripping with insincere innocence.

His sudden bark of laughter shattered the tension that had gathered and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest where she could feel his laughter rumble against her cheek.

“Oh, is it any wonder that I love you, woman?”

After a moment she pulled away and stood up, walking to the fireplace. “There are a few things I think we need to talk about, first.” Her voice was firm, a tone he recognized as reserved for serious discussions or work-related problems.

“Absolutely, I couldn’t agree more.” He settled back on the couch and watched her, enjoying the effect of the fire behind her straight back and strong shoulders.

“First, I want to make clear that my lack of interest in sex is not a problem, at least not for me, so it doesn’t necessarily need to be ‘fixed.’” It was vital to her that he understood that point. She’d been with men who were determined to fix her in the past, and she’d found the situation demeaning at best.

“You aren’t broken, Isabella. There’s nothing wrong with you, and if you decided to spend the rest of your life celibate there still wouldn’t be anything wrong with you.” Greg took a breath and decided to lay all his cards on the table. He was nervous – a new feeling for someone who’d always been supremely confident and not entirely comfortable – he was putting a great deal of himself in her hands and he wasn’t completely sure what she would do.

“I love you, Isabella. I’ve never said that to another woman and I very much doubt I’ll ever say it to any other. Physical intimacy can be an integral part of a relationship, and I’m a fairly physical man.” He smiled a bit at the understatement and continued. “If possible, I would like you to enjoy that part of our relationship.”

She stuck her hands in her pockets and considered what to say. This conversation suddenly felt as thought it was about a landscape much bigger than sex, and she suspected there were landmines in there somewhere.

“I love you too, Greg, and I’m just now realizing I should have probably said so before now.” She ran her hands through her hair and sighed. “I’ve been thinking about our relationship lately and considering the physical aspect. I don’t dislike sex. There’s no reason why we can’t move to that level – I think I’d enjoy being with you, doing something you enjoy, even if it’s not really my thing.”

Greg held a hand out to her. “Come back and sit down, Isabella.” He waited until she put her hand in his and settled onto the couch next to him. “While I would appreciate your ... sacrifice...” he laughed when her free hand whipped out to jab him in the ribs, “I’d like you to enjoy yourself as well. If you can’t, well then you can’t and we’ll continue from there, but I’d at least like to try.”

He watched her consider his words and waited for her response. She liked to take time to consider a decision from all the angles, but once that decision had been reached, she rarely changed her mind.

“Alright,” she said slowly, and he felt the muscles in his stomach relax fractionally. “Tell me what your plan is.”

They’d agreed that she would clean up after dinner while Greg prepared the master suite, which left her wondering what she’d find up there later. She loaded the dishwasher and began putting things away, her mind more on the conversation they’d had than what she was doing.

Bondage, but no dom/sub play. She called the shots – if she wanted to stop then they stopped. Isabella suspected that Greg knew once they got started she wouldn’t stop unless something was very badly wrong. She’d been worried about their relationship for weeks, wondering what would happen without the physical intimacy that any normal person would expect. Even if this didn’t work the way Greg hoped, at least she’d know she’d given it everything she had.

She’d warned him about her inability to reach orgasm, even on her own. Part of her had wanted to keep that to herself – it was oddly humiliating to admit, and in the past it had been seen as a challenge – but he’d reassured her that an orgasm would be a bonus but not the goal. The goal was for her to relax enough to enjoy herself.

One more turn around the kitchen proved that there was nothing to postpone going upstairs. Isabella walked through the great room and up the stairs. The hallway leading to the master suite seemed longer somehow, and the butterflies in her stomach flitted wildly.