On His Terms by Sierra Cartwright Page A

worked that way. Either she intended to keep her word, or not. If she’d got up when the alarm rang, she wouldn’t be in a time crunch.
    She took a long drink of the much-needed caffeine then, in the middle of the kitchen, she knelt. It took a lot of mental effort to keep herself calm rather than panicking about the time. But after half an hour, she leapt up and headed for the bathroom.
    Fortunately her potential new client called to say he was running late, and she arrived at her office two minutes ahead of him.
    She presented her proposal, and he signed on the dotted line. And of course, she and her team would have to begin work immediately to promote his upcoming independent movie. Still, that didn’t stop her and Jennifer, her administrative assistant, from grabbing hold of each other and screaming before doing a dance around the office. Finally! Years of work, scraping and scrimping, paying off bills and the business was getting the success she thought it deserved.
    The rest of the day passed in a blur, and they even had lunch brought in.
    Too soon, four-thirty arrived. Even though they’d been swamped, thoughts of being with Master Alexander had intruded. She’d been relieved to stay busy all day, otherwise she wasn’t sure how she’d have survived the nine hours.
    She hurried home for a shower, and to shave properly before meeting him. The sensual tension that had been simmering through her body heated to a boil. And she realised she was horny.
    The battle with the clock that had begun around dawn continued, and she hurried out to the car. Of course, rush-hour traffic slowed her down. Fear that she was going to be late made her grip the steering wheel and scowl at one driver who was driving too slowly. She turned up the radio to distract her only to turn it back down when it added to her irritation. She arrived at his home in Golden one minute ahead of time.
    Chelsea allowed her shoulders to collapse against the seatback then released the clawlike grip she’d had on the steering wheel. She fluffed her hair with her fingers before climbing out of the car and heading up the path to the front door. This time her nerves were stretched so taut she barely noticed the gorgeous landscaping or the foothills behind the Victorian-style house.
    She smoothed her skirt, straightened her shoulders and knocked. He didn’t answer. Feeling a little uncertain, she tested the knob. Since it was unlocked, she let herself in. She called out a greeting, but she got no response.
    Remembering his directions, she moved into the living room and took off her clothes and shoes, leaving everything in an organised pile.
    Near the fireplace, she lowered herself to the kneel up position and waited.
    She couldn’t help but notice a number of items on the side table. Her blood chilled at the sight of a cane, the dreaded collar, a box of surgical gloves, lube, several coiled lengths of restraints, and a curved metal hook. She couldn’t tell for certain if that was the tawse or something else that lay across the arm of the couch.
    Rather than looking at the intimidating assortment of paraphernalia, she forced herself to stare at the lamp. She jumped at every odd noise, as she wasn’t sure whether Master Alexander was in the house or not. He hadn’t called to change their plans. And she’d done what he told her to. She was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable, debating if she should stay there or go looking for him when she heard the sound of his footfalls on the hardwood floor.
    Her chest rose and fell, and it was almost impossible to remain as she was while she waited for him. And he didn’t say anything for a long time. Each moment felt interminable. Even if she hadn’t heard his approach, she would have recognised his scent of crisp mountain pine. He smelt of the outdoors, and she responded on a visceral level. This man, this Dom, confused her in ways no one else ever had.
    Her pulse slammed into overdrive. She was glad she’d called