The room was suddenly silent and uncomfortable. To escape it, Brie headed out to the balcony. There, she inadvertently witnessed the encounter between Isabella and Sir on the streets below.
Sir held her firmly with both hands, even as the woman tried to pull away. He was talking to her, although Brie could not make out what he was saying.
Isabella began hitting his chest in anger but then collapsed into his arms, sobbing violently. Sir held her like a lover as he comforted the brunette.
It hurt Brie to see it and she collapsed, staring at them through the iron bars. Who was that woman?
Sir’s grandfather came out to join her and held out his hand to Brie. She was hesitant to take it, but allowed him to help her back to her feet. He pointed to the sea and began talking to her. Even though she didn’t understand his words she pretended to, grateful for the distraction. She listened to the strong timbre of his voice, admiring his commanding gaze, and silently wondered if all the men of Sir’s lineage were natural Dominants.
When Sir finally returned, he came straight to Brie and put his arm around her. He said something to his grandfather, who frowned but nodded curtly.
Sir spoke to Brie next. “We are leaving so you and I can talk.” He led her from the balcony to the stairs, but stopped to give his grandmother a kiss goodbye. The old woman started arguing with him, holding onto his hand in a death grip.
It was heartbreaking to see Sir attempt to gently pry himself from her tight grasp. The terror on his grandmother’s face spoke of her fear that she would never see him again, but Sir’s grandfather barked a command and she let go.
Sir guided Brie down the stairs to the sound of the old woman’s pleading.
As soon Sir shut the door behind them, he leaned against the building, taking a few moments to gather himself before commanding Brie to walk beside him. While they strolled down the street, he explained, “Isabella was my childhood sweetheart. Our families are extremely close, and it was assumed by all that we would marry when we were older.”
“I can tell you have a connection,” Brie replied lightly, even though it pained her to say it.
“We were very close…once.”
Brie wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but she forced herself to ask, “What happened, Sir?”
He took his time to answer her, looking troubled when he finally spoke. “After my father died, I wanted nothing to do with love, marriage, or women.” He paused and then stated candidly, “I sent Isabella a letter explaining that I never planned to marry.”
Those last words cut Brie to the quick. Even though they had never talked of marriage, she had secretly hoped someday he would marry her.
Sir continued, “I explained in the letter that I would not be returning to Italy and broke off all contact with her. It has been that way for eighteen years. I never considered that Isabella might await my return; that she held onto the belief I would come back for her one day. Unfortunately, that unspoken hope compromised her subsequent relationships.”
Brie heard the regret in his voice and her heart constricted.
Sir took her hand and held it tightly. “Both families expected the marriage. I do not doubt that even now they hold out hope.” He stopped in the middle of the street and turned her to face him, stating solemnly, “I’m sorry, Brie. I do not know if my extended family will be any more receptive to our union than your parents.”
“I can handle it, Sir,” Brie assured him, grateful that he was stating his intention to fight his family’s wishes.
Sir brushed her cheek with his thumb and smiled before they continued down the street. After several minutes, he let out a deep sigh. “Oh, Isabella… What a waste.”
There was nothing she could say in response. It was romantic and heartbreaking that his childhood sweetheart had waited for him all these years. There was a part of Brie that wanted to hate her, but in all honesty, she only had empathy for the woman.
Condor Love
After a day of exploring the island of Isola d’Elba with its luscious greenery, rocky cliffs and mixture of sandy and pebbly beaches, the two were invited to dinner at Isabella’s family home. Although Brie wanted to avoid her like the plague, Sir insisted they attend.
“This is my family, Brie. To turn down this invitation would be the same as turning down your parents. We will use this as an opportunity for everyone to meet you. To see the extraordinary woman I see.”
Despite the doubts that assailed her, she knew showing a lack of confidence would only cause others to question Sir’s choice. It was with a courageous heart she faced the evening with Isabella, determined to act secure in her role as Sir’s partner.
Isabella’s parents lived in an expensive home on the beach. This was no traditional Italian apartment. This was a modern home with a breathtaking view of the sea. It appeared that Isabella had very wealthy relatives.
Brie was surprised that everyone welcomed her with smiles and hugs. If she hadn’t suspected their true feelings, she would have missed the slight reservation in their welcoming embraces.
Isabella came out of the kitchen with a beautiful smile framed by rosy cheeks. Brie was struck by how stunning she was with her sparkling eyes, those perfectly shaped lips and that womanly sway to her hips. “Welcome to our home! I have spent the entire day cooking your favorites, Thane. I had a suspicion you have not had traditional food in a very long time.” She turned to Brie. “It is my hope that you will enjoy it as well, Miss Bennett. We believe food is an expression of the soul.”
Brie understood her meaning. In her own experience, she’d felt closer to Sir whenever he’d shared one of his favorite dishes with her. Because of that, it seemed almost sinful to have Isabella cook for him now. Her jealousy got the best of her and Brie secretly prayed the dinner would be a disaster. Unfortunately, the smells floating from the kitchen belied that hope.
Isabella disappeared again to finish the meal, while the huge family gathered around a massive table and the wine began to flow. Brie watched Sir covertly, noticing how comfortable he was, how frequently he smiled and how easily he laughed. It was heartwarming to see.
When Isabella finally returned, a troupe of women got up to help her, filling the table with a bounty of authentic Tuscan cuisine. Brie quickly glanced over the table, hoping to see tomatoes somewhere in one of the many dishes. Naturally, Isabella knew him too well for that.
Isabella loaded a plate and placed it in front of Sir with a proud smile and a hint of a blush. She then made a similar plate for Brie.
Sir explained to Brie, “You are expected to eat every bite. If you do not, the family will consider it an insult.”
Brie stared at the plate piled high with food. There was no way she could finish it all. It felt as if she was being set up for failure with a capital F.
She heard Sir’s quiet chuckle. He bit the bullet for her, asking Isabella for a ‘piastra’. Isabella looked at him oddly, but handed him a fresh plate. Sir took a little of everything from the bountiful meal. He slid his plate over to his grandfather, slid Brie’s plate in front of him and placed the new one beside Brie.
A hush fell over the table. Sir grinned and rubbed his stomach. “Non Italiano.”
The group laughed and began partaking of Isabella’s incredible feast. Sir winked at Brie and held up his fork, inviting her to eat.
Although what was sitting on her plate was far more than Brie would eat normally, it was manageable. “Thank you…Thane,” she said quietly as she picked up her fork and chose the same item he did.
When Brie tasted Isabella’s gnocchi, she closed her eyes and stifled her moan of pleasure. It was soft and light, almost melting in her mouth as she chewed. Her heart sank. There was no doubt that Isabella was a damn fine cook. Why did the woman have to be beautiful, loyal and talented in the kitchen?
It was with joy and sadness Brie finished the entire plate. Everything on it, even the seafood items—which she normally didn’t like—was simply prepared and delicious. To Brie, each b
ite had been an added nail in the coffin of her own inadequacy.
After much laughter and lively discussions in their enchanting native tongue, the group retired to a large room with plenty of seating and an expansive window overlooking the coast.
Sir directed Brie to a seat while Isabella separated herself from the family. When Isabella picked up a guitar, Brie’s heart sank.
Not this too…
Isabella took a few minutes tuning the guitar and then took a seat on a stool directly facing Sir. She smiled shyly and announced, “I haven’t played for years now, but Papà insisted. I apologize in advance.”
Sir nodded, a silent encouragement Brie recognized. Her seeds of jealousy began to sprout into life. Sitting there next to Sir, Brie felt like she’d already lost him.
Isabella’s fingers danced over the strings, filling the room with a soulful melody. Although there were a few little mistakes, they did not detract from the beauty of her song.
Then Isabella sang.
Her voice was disarming, reminding Brie of the tale about sirens who lured seamen to their deaths with their beautiful voices. Although Brie could not understand the words, the emotion behind them was clear. Isabella was singing a love song to Sir.
First with the food, and now with the music, Isabella was making love to Sir through untraditional means. She was reminding him, as well as showing Brie, why Sir had fallen in love with her all those years ago.
It wasn’t just Sir Isabella was ensnaring with her many talents. Brie was equally captivated by the beautiful and talented woman. She knew if she were a man, she would want this woman for her own. A lone tear ran down Brie’s cheek at the revelation.
“Are you okay?” Sir whispered.
She wiped the tear away. “The song… It’s just so beautiful, Sir.”
He looked at Isabella and smiled. “Yes. Yes, it is.”
In that moment, Brie’s fate was sealed.
She knew what she needed to do, but lost her courage that night. Instead, she lay beside Sir, savoring the warmth of his love for just a little longer.
It wasn’t until the next morning that she found the strength, sitting in the little espresso café Sir had taken her to. Brie took a deep breath, praying she would not cry until it was over.
“What’s wrong, Brie?”
“Sir… Thane…”
He looked at her with concern. “This must be serious.”
She nodded.
“You have my attention.”
She looked away from him, unable to keep her composure while looking into his eyes. She stared out of the window at a couple walking hand in hand. That wasn’t helping, so she averted her eyes and focused on a bird pecking at crumbs. “You seem happy here, Sir.”
“I am,” he answered cautiously.
“I have never seen you this way before. It’s…wonderful.”
“If that is true, why can’t you look at me?”
Brie’s bottom lip trembled when she spoke. “You belong here, Sir. This is your home. These are your people. You deserve the love and support you’ve found here.”
He shook his head in irritation. “You are not making yourself clear, Brie. Spit it out.”
She braved a look into his magnetic eyes and the tears began to fall. “You told me that condors mate for life. I believe that. However, I think there is one instance that can split a pair apart, besides death.” She let out a sob and had to stop for a second, swallowing hard to get rid of the lump that had formed in her throat. “I think a condor’s love is so strong she will let her mate go if she knows he will be happier with another.”
Sir stared at her and said nothing.
Brie closed her eyes and commanded herself to stop crying. She was sacrificing her heart, but she didn’t want to do it with tears. His silence let her know she had read the situation correctly.
“Brie.”
She opened her eyes, prepared to have her heart shattered for him.
He pushed his chair back and commanded, “Come here.”
She did so unwillingly, terrified he was going to have her bow before him to release her from her collar. To her relief, he directed her to his lap instead. She climbed onto it and laid her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It was for that heart she was sacrificing herself.
“I did not understand until this moment how much I needed you to say that.”
Her heart broke into a million pieces. Brie held him closer, not wanting to let him go despite her decision to set him free.
Sir nestled his face in her long hair. “I would never have expected such a gift from you.”
She answered sadly, “I love you, Thane.”
His laughter was low and warm. “Yes, you do.”
“Your happiness is everything to me.”
“As you are a submissive, I am not surprised you feel that way.” He cupped her chin and gazed into her eyes. “But I will never let you go.”
“Sir?” Her heart hadn’t dared to hope.
“You are mine. There is no other.”
“Isabella?”
“Is a part of my past.”
“But, Sir, the woman is beautiful, talented and can even cook.”
“You are beautiful, talented, and you…are learning to cook,” he added with a kiss on her forehead.
Brie whispered, “But Sir, Isabella is an extraordinary woman.”
“I concur. However, she and I together do not equal us. I am not the boy she once knew. She cannot meet the needs I have now.” Sir cradled her cheek in his hand. “You are my soul’s complement. I love you.”
Brie started crying without any chance of controlling it.
“Would you give up on us so easily, Brie?”
She struggled to answer him through her tears. “No, Sir. I love you too much.”
Sir kissed her salty tears. “I believe this is the greatest gift I’ve ever been given—my happiness in exchange for your heart.” He lifted her chin and kissed her gently on the lips. “Silly girl, my happiness is you.”
Brie melted into his embrace, the relief of not losing him announcing itself as a painful sob. She buried her face in his chest.
“I am honored by the depth of your love, babygirl.” He put both arms around her and held her tightly.
Brie felt an incredible rush, as if she had been reborn and given new life.
Captive
“There is a special place I want to take you, Brie,” Sir informed her as they walked down to the docks. He helped her onto a simple sailboat and introduced her to a man she’d met at Isabella’s dinner party a few nights before.
Sir explained, “Pietro was a friend of my father’s. We used to go sailing together when I was a child.”
The older gentleman took her hand and put it to his lips. “Sei bellissima.”
Brie blushed, knowing he’d said something about her being beautiful. “Grazie,” she replied shyly.
Pietro gave Sir a long and emotional hug. When he pulled away, there were tears in the older man’s eyes. It was obvious to Brie that seeing each other brought back treasured memories for both men.
Sir directed Brie to the front of the boat while they set about getting it ready to sail. She basked in the warmth of the sunshine, feeling like the Queen of Sheba when the boat began to pull away from the dock.
Brie secretly pretended this was her boat and they were her two manly servants. It was a naughty fantasy, considering her place, but she threw her head back and drank in the power and delight the image brought.
Eventually, Sir joined her. He looked incredibly sexy with the wind whipping through his dark hair, like he was meant to be on the ocean as a captain—or a pirate.
He took in a deep breath of the sea air. “I love getting out on the water.”
“I do too, Sir. I love the smell and the feeling of freedom it inspires.” She looked out over the expanse of blue. “It spurs the adventurer in me.”
He pulled her up to stand beside him, holding her close. “It ap
peals to a part of my soul that lies dormant until I’m on the water again.”
She enjoyed the wind playing with her hair. It was a moment she wished she could capture and bottle, to be savored often in the years ahead.
“You see that little island?” he asked, pointing over her shoulder at a speck on the horizon. “That is our destination. My father used to take me there as a boy.”
She snuck her hand around his waist and snuggled against Sir, grateful that he was including her in retracing a part of his past.
“It’s been more than eighteen years since I’ve been,” he said pensively, as if he was shocked by the passage of time.
Sir told Brie to undress down to her bathing suit while he helped Pietro lower the sails as they approached the tiny island. Brie heard a satisfying splash when the sailor dropped the anchor over the edge of the boat.
The two men talked for several minutes before Sir rejoined her. “He’ll come back in four hours. That should leave us plenty of time to play.”
Play? Maybe this was more than a walk down memory lane.
Without any warning, Sir picked her up and threw her into the water. Brie yelped as she fell and the cold sea enveloped her. She popped her head back up and took in a deep breath, only to hear Sir say, “You better start swimming towards the shore, princess. I am about to capture you.”
He started peeling off his shirt, looking at her lustfully.
The thrill of the chase infused her with giddy determination. Brie started swimming for all she was worth, heading towards a small alcove on the island. Even though she was smaller than Sir, she was a good swimmer and thought she could make it before he caught up.
She heard a splash. Sir was coming for her…
Brie kept her eye on her destination. He would not apprehend her easily if she could help it. Brie tried not to think about his long, powerful strokes as she swam until she felt hands grabbing at her legs. She screamed and was rewarded with a mouthful of salt water.
Survival mode kicked in as she made her way to the shore, crawling onto the sandy beach gasping desperately for breath. She glanced behind her and saw that he was rising out of the water.