The next morning, she got up a little early so she could practise before going to the office. And at her lunch break, she gathered up all her courage and telephoned Master Alexander.

He answered on the first ring.

"You were right," she said before he could say anything beyond hello.

"About what, in specific?"

His voice, so rough, so sexy, made her toes curl in her pumps. "I was being a control freak, questioning everything." She left out the bit that he'd been too impersonal with her. Admitting that would be far too difficult. And clouding their arrangement with emotional need wouldn't be good for either of them. "I know it's a lot to ask, but I want to continue my training, if you'll have me."

"I don't give a lot of second chances." His tone was flat and less than encouraging.

She continued on, regardless. "I don't blame you." She paced back and forth in front of her office window. "But I'm asking." She took a breath and stood still. "Please."

"What changed your mind?"

She should have realised this wouldn't be easy, that he'd ask dozens of questions. "I did a lot of thinking last night. I do want to get Master Evan C's attention. But I want to experience this for my sake, as well. There's something appealing about giving up control. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I found it somewhat relaxing, after I got past my thoughts and accepted the experience."

He remained silent for so long she thought he might not answer. When he did, she felt as if he'd sucked all the enthusiasm from her veins. "I expect you to practice your positions every day for half an hour. Some days you should wear lingerie and heels. Other times, you should be naked. I also expect you to get checked out by a physician and be prepared to show me the test results. If you can manage all that without complaint for a week, and if you're still interested, contact me again."

Without another word, he ended the call.

In shock, she stared at the blank screen.

Traffic passed by and she barely noticed it. She'd been prepared for him to say no or to accept her back with a punishment. But she hadn't been prepared for a conditional yes.

She hated being tested. She'd made her decision. Why the hell couldn't he forgive her?

Frustration bubbling inside her, she resumed pacing. Then, realising that wasn't helping to dispel the agitation gnawing at her, she dropped her phone on her desk. She took her seat and drew several steadying breaths. The maddening, irritating man always gave her plenty of opportunity to work on schooling her thoughts, which, she supposed, was part of being a good sub. And that was exactly his point.

She'd heard in his tone that he expected her to fail.

And that was not an option.

Every day for the next week, she did as he'd instructed. After getting out of bed, she went through the motions for fifteen minutes. She did the same for a quarter of an hour after work, no matter how late she got in or how exhausted she was. And because every part of her ached, she soaked in the hot tub every day.

The first couple of days, she'd had difficulty reining in her thoughts. Then it had become somewhat easier. By the last part of the week, she'd been able to go through the paces with a certain amount of grace and a whole lot less of a brain fuck.

This time when she called him, she got his voicemail. She sighed with frustration as she listened to his greeting, but she put a smile on her face-a technique she'd learnt at a sales training event-and left a pleasant message.

All day, she jumped every time her phone rang. And she even checked the screen several times, even though she knew for a fact it had been silent. That night, when she was in bed, he finally telephoned. She exhaled a few times to steady herself before answering. "Good evening, Sir." It amazed her how the words themselves made her feel calmer.

"You're certain you want to continue forward?"

"I am, Sir."

"Tell me why."

"I want to learn. In fact, I already am learning to quiet my thoughts. It's surprising to me, but I'm more focused at work, and I am feeling more creative."

"You realise I will be able to tell right away if you're telling the truth about any of this."

She gritted her teeth. "Of course, Sir."

"And this is your last chance. I will not accept you back again after this."

Her heart leapt into her throat. "This means you are accepting me back?"

"For two weeks," he said. "And only if I see significant improvement in your attitude and proof that you've done what you said you have."

She refused to challenge him, another first for her. Instead, she said, "Thank you." She ignored the fact her hand was shaking. Until he'd agreed, she hadn't realised just how important his answer was. "Thank you, Sir."

"Do you remember where I live?"

"It's still programmed into my navigation system, Sir."

"Are you available to start tomorrow evening?"

"I am, Sir."

"Very well. Six o'clock?"

She tossed back the blankets and climbed from bed. "Is there anything specific I should wear?"

"You'll be naked the moment the door closes behind you, so it doesn't matter."

When she didn't respond right away, he asked, "Question?"

"I presume you'll open the door and then I'll strip?" She started to pace, a habit she'd picked up since she'd started seeing him.

"Let yourself in, remove your clothing, and wait by the fireplace."

"Yes, Sir."

"Have you been masturbating?"

Heat chased through her body. "Not successfully," she said. "I mean, I tried." She stumbled through the admission while he remained silent. "I did, masturbate that is, with the showerhead."

"And you didn't climax?"

"No, Sir."

"Good. From here forward, you will come only when I give permission."

"I..." She trailed off and inhaled before saying, "Yes, Sir."

"Being good doesn't come easy to you, does it, Chelsea?"

"May I have permission to come tonight, Sir?"

"Absolutely not."

Since he'd denied it, need crawled through her. Right now, she knew even the gentlest of touches against her clit would get her off. She could feel her pulse there, demanding. Confound him.

"Don't be late, Chelsea."

He said the last word with a soft inflection that made her heart stop. That had sounded personal, and her body reacted. "I will be there, Sir."

In bed, she couldn't get comfortable, and she was certain he had planned it that way. She was aware of the ache in her pussy that a simple touch would vanquish. Her breasts felt full, and she desperately wanted to play with her nipples.

She thumped her pillow into a different shape, and that didn't help, either.

Finally, half an hour later, in abject frustration, she climbed out of bed and went through her paces again, while wearing her pyjamas. If she took off her clothes, she would be tempted to touch herself.

The act of thinking of her Dom rather than herself helped calm her.

As always, sleep eluded her. She thought wryly about the posture collar. Having her hands secured seemed like the best way to resist temptation. So she would just have to use willpower.

She turned on her side and shoved both hands beneath her head. She forced herself not to think about her upcoming time with Master Alexander, and instead, she counted sheep, something she hadn't done since she was a child.

It must have worked because the alarm dragged her to a groggy consciousness. She hit the snooze button often enough that she was running late for an appointment with a potential new client. The coffeemaker took too long and she glared at it, as if that would hurry it along.

She was pouring the first cup when she remembered she still needed to practise her movements.

With a frustrated sigh, she looked at the clock on the microwave. Since she'd done extra the day before, surely that put her ahead for today. She dragged a hand through her hair, wishing it 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 him and grateful he'd agreed to see her.

"Very good," he said. "Please present yourself for inspection."

The sound of his voice scrambled what was left of her thoughts. Thank God she had spent so much time practising. Her motions were almost automatic and much more refined than the last time he'd seen her.

She stood. Mindful of her posture, she kept her head up and looked straight ahead. She drew her shoulder blades together, then parted her legs and waited.

"You have been working on that," he said.

"Yes, Sir. I want to please you."

He didn't acknowledge that she'd spoken. "Open your mouth."

Fear gripped her that he'd put the dam in her mouth again, but he didn't.

Surprising her, he said, "Close it."

He never did what she expected.

"You've shaved again."

"Yes, Sir." She wasn't sure whether he'd expected an answer or not.

Even though he stepped back and a bit to the side, she continued to look ahead. Since she didn't want the thick collar fastened around her neck, and further, she wanted to prove her commitment, she was determined to do what he demanded of her.

"Present your breasts."

Though he hadn't asked that of her before, she'd seen Brandy do it at the Den. Chelsea lifted her breasts and drew them together, hoping she was doing it right.

"Perfect. Pinch your nipples."

She did it harder than she liked, because she knew he expected it. He stood there, watching as she applied the pressure. She continued to do as she was told, without question, even though it was becoming more and more painful.

"Now release them and part your pussy lips."

He was being cold with her, and she fought against her instinctive rebellion. She should have expected this. She made her movements as elegant as possible.

His inspection of her inner lips as he felt for stray hairs wasn't as brutal as the demonstration he'd given her at Master Damien's, but she could have been a stranger to him for all the attention he paid her. This was perfunctory. Or at least it would be unless he found she'd been remiss. And she'd for damn sure not been remiss.

"Show me your ass."

She swallowed deeply and lowered herself to all fours, facing the fire. She placed her forehead on the floor, then reached back with both hands to part her ass cheeks.

Like he had earlier, he regarded her. Or at least that was what she thought he was doing. He made no sound to indicate any movement.