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stared back. “I’ll tell you the truth; I was about to give it up.” Chess turned the key in the ignition, checked the side mirror, and pulled away from the curb. “Wonder what she’d think if she knew we’ve been here every day for the past couple weeks, hoping to run into her.”
    Not that he had much else to do these days. Sure, he could go in to the office and pretend to work. Wade through piles of past-due bills he had no hope of paying. Ignore the threatening letters from attorneys. Work up a sweat trying to juggle figures that no matter what he did, always ended in a negative balance. All in a hopeless attempt to shore up the family business that was failing fast.
    Bailey, having nothing to contribute to the conversation, yawned. They rode the rest of the way home in silence.
    * * * *
    That evening, Mia sat on her sofa watching the news. She was also shoveling down an extra-large helping of Ben and Jerry’s Super Fudge Chunk with more determination than appetite. She needed to replenish some of her lost weight and stop looking so damn stringy. Her stockinged feet were propped on the coffee table, and next to them lay Chess’s handkerchief.
    Her gaze kept lighting on the crumpled hankie, and every time she looked at it, a little shiver went through her. The same shiver she’d felt in Chess’s presence. She took the hankie and lifted it to her nose, inhaling a citrusy fragrance that lingered on the cloth. His cologne? She took another deep breath, picturing his face—and froze.
    Man, she’d lost it. Why was she pressing a drool-slimed piece of cloth to her face and fantasizing about a man she’d barely said ten words to? Mia dropped the handkerchief as though it burned her hand, stared at it for a moment, picked it up, and quickly carried it to the bathroom hamper. There she left it, which she should have done in the first place.
    She’d wash the handkerchief and find some way of getting it to Chess. A way that would not involve returning to Restraint.
    As Mia returned to the living room, the “Flower Duet” from the opera Lakmé sounded on her cell phone. She froze. That was Master Philip’s ring…
    She kept the phone in her purse, which hung by its strap over a kitchen chair. Mia grabbed the purse and upended it, her hands shaking, unmindful of the papers, loose change, and other items that fell out. There had been no word from Philip since that night at LoFiglio’s.
    She shook the phone loose from the purse and fumbled it open. Mia’s breath caught when she read the text message on the screen.
    Bella Mia. Friday nite. Restraint. 9 p.m. By yr Mastrs cmnd.

Chapter Four
    By your Master’s command…
    Mia sat at the bar at Club Restraint, as nervous as a bride. She’d arrived early, wanting to give herself some extra time to calm her nerves. Though those around her in the lounge and on the dance floor wore leather or latex or nothing at all, Mia dressed in satin. An ivory corset hugged her slim shape. A matching thong completed the outfit.
    She had taken every care with her appearance tonight. Although her costume had been expensive, Mia didn’t regret the cost. The ruffles on the bodice of the corset made her breasts look fuller. Never big, they’d gotten even smaller thanks to her recent weight loss. Her brown eyes were highlighted with smoky gray eye shadow, her full lips glossed with lipstick, her dark hair smoothed back to emphasize her high forehead.
    She should have been uncomfortable sitting here on display like a strip steak in a supermarket butcher’s case, but tonight it didn’t matter. She’d been summoned here by her Master.
    But why, after two months of silence, had he decided to contact her? The question niggled at her, no matter how she tried to ignore it. And should she have responded so eagerly?
    No. She mustn’t let doubt confuse her. There was only one reason Master Philip would have summoned her tonight. He’d changed his mind about letting her go. All that mattered was