Page 26 of Healing the Heart

“You know, through Kinky Matches, our new club service.”

“She’s perfect for you, sir,” Esme declared.

“How is this possible when I never filled out a questionnaire?”

The two women glanced at one another before Val admitted, “We, uh, kind of, did it for you because we knew you two would be perfect for each other and... Voila! You are. On paper.”

He rose, crossing to the printer across the room. When he retrieved his paperwork, he moved to the door, and witharms folded stared down at the two women, a frown on his face to show his displeasure. “How can youkind offill out an application, and what happened to this beingvoluntary? I was there when you made that proposal to Eric, if you recall.”

Esme gripped his forearm. “It was my idea, Master Noah. I can’t stand seeing you so miserable. I know what you’re feeling.”

She’d lost her first husband tragically. And Val’s had died from cancer. Both survived and found love again. He was happy for them, but losing Claire and Leah wasn’t something he discussed—ever.

“I’m sorry, Esme, but you don’t.”

“After you lose a spouse who is like half of yourself, the pain is so intense you shut down, withdrawing into yourself and just existing,” she pressed, describing exactly what he’d done. And what she had done after her police detective husband had been shot in a mafia-style vengeance kill. “When you come out of it,” she went on in a rush, “all you want to do is protect what remains of your shattered heart. But there comes a time when you have to move forward with your life or get counseling so you can.”

“Not to minimize the loss of your husband, Red, but you didn’t also lose a child.”

Val gasped. “Oh my god! I didn’t know.”

Green eyes bright with tears, Esme went on as if Val hadn’t spoken. “After such a devastating loss, the survivor is often unwilling to risk opening their heart again. I sure didn’t want to. But it’s a long, lonely life without joy, fulfillment, and love. That was me until Keiran snapped me out of it. You’re young, Master Noah. That’s no way to live another four or five decades. Would your wife or daughter have wanted that? If the situation had been reversed, would you have wanted that for them?”

Leah was much too young to understand, but Claire—unselfish and so giving—she’d be pissed as hell at his self-imposed bachelorhood when it would solve nothing because it wouldn’t bring either of them back.

“What do you have to lose by trying?” she asked.

The answer resonated loudly through his head—his heart. She was right about one thing though. His existence was damn lonely.

Knowing he would have to go to their doms to get the well-meaning pair to let it go, which he’d prefer not to do, his shoulders slumped in resignation. “Fine. Who is it?”

“Fiona,” Val replied. “You remember—”

His laughter rang out. “How could I forget? I hate to tell you, but your processes or whatever you’re using to match doms with subs and vice versa is off. Fiona rejected me once already.”

Clearly shocked, the two partners frowned at one another.

Val dug through her bag muttering, “I was sure she left the question about any members being off-limits blank.”

“Could it have been a misunderstanding?” Esme asked him. “She doesn’t have much experience.”

“No, thank youis hard to misconstrue,” Noah drawled.

“Here it is,” Val said, referring to her iPad. “We can clarify—”

“She’ll know I’m the dom you’re setting her up with?” he asked to be certain.

“Yes,” Val replied as Esme answered with an emphatic, “Of course.”

He wasn’t about to let an opportunity to be with Fiona pass him by. She haunted his dreams, and he compared every other submissive at the club to her. All of them coming up short.

He wasn’t sure why. There were other beautiful women who actually wanted to be with him and sought his attention. What was it about her? Not the fact that she’d turned him down—flat. Surely, he wasn’t that superficial.

There was one way to find out.

“Set it up. Thursday at eight o’clock. You’ve got one chance and one chance only,” he grumbled before stalking down the hall. He dropped his paperwork into the box on the office manager’s door as he passed then slammed out the glass double doors in the lobby.

Much of his irritation was bravado at being manipulated by two submissives, even though they meant well. Still, Esme’s words had struck a chord.

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