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324 pages, Paperback
First published March 22, 2006








“Most of the Masters at The Zone would have given both of their testicles for the right to top the Ice Queen.”
“Tyler commanded attention because he was like a tiger. Mesmerizing and possessing something that suggested it was wise not to turn your back on him, any more than it would be a wise move to run.”
“She didn’t belong to anyone, though her lovers, temporary though they were, belonged to her for all time.”
“She was a Mistress who needed a Master.”



She shook her head, thinking a man this practiced in seduction should be labeled a dangerous weapon to protect any woman within twenty yards of him.
Could she trust Tyler enough to do that in this controlled environment that felt anything but controlled? Could she trust anyone to do that? And why was something that was so simple and safe feeling so threatening?

“I would start every day with my face in your cunt, eating you out, scraping that sweet clit with my teeth.”
“You’re not that fragile.”
“Yes, I am. I know what I can and can’t have to stay the person I need to be."
"How far will you run, Marguerite, before you realize you're not running away from me? You're running to me."
They call her the Ice Queen. At the exclusive BDSM club known as The Zone, Mistress Marguerite is a legend. Tyler Winterman has been fascinated with her since he's known her, though the rules of their world say they shouldn't share more than mutual admiration. He is her male counterpart, one of the most powerful male Doms practicing at The Zone.
"She was a vision. She always was. Her beauty didn't rest in a feature or group of features. It was in her otherworldly quality. He stood in a room with something not quite of this earth."


"If he wanted to beat her within an inch of her life or poke her with hot brands, that she could handle She hadn't expected that Tyler's version of submission would include crawling into her mind."

"He raised his head, locked gazes with her. As she looked into his eyes, she wondered herself at what she was trying to accomplish here. He had unsettled her, so there was some quid pro quo going on. But this was more. She wanted his shadows."


"A thousand tiny imperfections can make a perfect life."


“I’ve been trying to talk Marguerite into performing a Japanese tea ceremony for me but she tells me she reserves it only for her special customers.”
“A properly done chaji takes four hours.”
His teeth flashed at her. “I have the stamina.”
Tina stifled a chuckle. Eyes glinting, Tyler inclined his head to her and moved to a wide-eyed Chloe, asking her if she needed any help as if he’d worked there all his life.
“I’d offer to catch you if you need to swoon,” Tina said under her breath. “Except my knees went weak watching him kiss your hand.”
“I know who you think is the prettiest girl here,” Natalie announced, pinning him with a knowing look.
Tyler grinned. “That would be the birthday girl, of course.”
Natalie shook her head, her curls swinging. “You’re just saying that because it’s my birthday. You think Miss M is the prettiest, because you’re in love with her.”
There was a clatter as Marguerite knocked one of her fortunately empty teacups across the table. She grabbed at it but it rolled over the edge, skittering away as if possessed. Before she blinked, Tyler caught it in his open palm.
He brought it back to the table, sitting it down next to her hand, meeting her flustered gaze. “I handle delicate objects very well,” he said, low, as the girls exclaimed over the fortunate catch.
She stared at him. He passed a knuckle over her cheek. “All right?”
“Think about those bronze sculptures…” His voice soothed her surge of panic. “How the artists focused on the lines of the body, keeping the lines simple to bring out the life in the art. It’s in their very stillness they burst with the power of sensuality. Like you, Marguerite. Absolutely still like this, by my command, you’re a Goddess.”

"What type of flavor do you think I prefer?"
She cocked her head. "The subtle, the delicately made. You're the type of person who wants the mystery inside the flower bud."
I can still appreciate the different nuances of the stronger flavors." He studied the orchid in the center of the table. "With the very delicate, you sculpt something down to such a whisper of form, there's nothing else it can be. It's in strength you find surprises, variation."

She inhaled sharply as he traced the line of her neck with the warm wetness. "I'm not afraid to bleed for you, Marguerite." His voice was a rough whisper against her ear. "I'll tell The Zone you're thinking it over. Don't disappoint me. Or yourself."

"See? Small steps. Just take it one thing at a time and you'll be fine. Angel, I'm not going to hurt you. You know that, right? Can you nod for me? Breathe a little?" Tender humor mixed with the concern in his face could undo her. And give her reassurance. She was rather amazed at the combination.
"The strongest drive inside of a submissive, underneath all their emotional wounds, is for the Master to push aside any curtains or walls they may have erected to separate them from their true self, the naked, vulnerable soul. Because that soul wants only one thing. Do you want to know what that is?"
(…) "I don't want to know. That's not what the training's about."
"Wrong. That's what submissive training is all about. Getting past those shields so she feels truly bound to her Master, a part of him as he's a part of her. The ultimate connection, where thought isn't necessary. They're together in the most elemental and perfect way there is. She stared at him. "Let me go, Tyler. I can't do this." "You can. You will."

"Because." He leaned forward, his hand slipping up her back to unerringly trace the scar tissue of the design burned there, now concealed under the robe. "Someone drew you wings a long time ago and you've been trying to decide whether to fly away ever since." (…) "And because when I look at you, I think you're a gift from God."



"You may not realize it but you're seeking the silence in your soul, a plea where you go to find the best of yourself. Learning a simple and beautiful skill, like choosing a teapot, that's seeking that silence, creating rituals where that silence may be found and nurtured. As long as you have that place, you'll never lose yourself, who you are, what you want. But you have to remember to keep bringing flowers into your meadow, always one at a time, to appreciate each blossom, to honor its contribution to your character. It helps make you into the person you were meant to be."

“You are very important to me. It doesn’t matter if you never accept me or what lies between us. If you need me, I’m here for you. Tomorrow, ten years from now, it doesn’t matter. And you know me well enough to know I don’t make idle declarations of commitment.
(…)
“The offer is there now and forever, whether or not you acknowledge it. But before you go, I’m going to ask you to do one more thing. It’s simple and if you do it, I’ll consider your mentoring requirement fulfilled.”
(…)
“I want you to ask me to kiss you and mean it, rather than me making you do it. If you do that, I’ll let you leave.”
(…)
“Tyler, please kiss me.” It came out as a whisper of sound.
Bringing his body close up against her, he put his hands on her waist. Moved them around to the vulnerable small of her back to press her breasts to his chest. His lips hovered over hers, his eyes golden lights flickering like the warmth of a welcoming fire, lulling her, hypnotizing her.
“Tyler.”
There was no question, just his name, and he seemed to understand that. He closed the distance, settling his lips on hers, the heat of his mouth seducing her to part her lips, welcome him in. Her body melted into his with a sigh that seemed to come from every nerve, every cell, saying this is where she wanted to be, where she wanted to belong.



"A thousand tiny imperfections can make a perfect life."


“I’ve been trying to talk Marguerite into performing a Japanese tea ceremony for me but she tells me she reserves it only for her special customers.”
“A properly done chaji takes four hours.”
His teeth flashed at her. “I have the stamina.”
Tina stifled a chuckle. Eyes glinting, Tyler inclined his head to her and moved to a wide-eyed Chloe, asking her if she needed any help as if he’d worked there all his life.
“I’d offer to catch you if you need to swoon,” Tina said under her breath. “Except my knees went weak watching him kiss your hand.”
“I know who you think is the prettiest girl here,” Natalie announced, pinning him with a knowing look.
Tyler grinned. “That would be the birthday girl, of course.”
Natalie shook her head, her curls swinging. “You’re just saying that because it’s my birthday. You think Miss M is the prettiest, because you’re in love with her.”
There was a clatter as Marguerite knocked one of her fortunately empty teacups across the table. She grabbed at it but it rolled over the edge, skittering away as if possessed. Before she blinked, Tyler caught it in his open palm.
He brought it back to the table, sitting it down next to her hand, meeting her flustered gaze. “I handle delicate objects very well,” he said, low, as the girls exclaimed over the fortunate catch.
She stared at him. He passed a knuckle over her cheek. “All right?”
“Think about those bronze sculptures…” His voice soothed her surge of panic. “How the artists focused on the lines of the body, keeping the lines simple to bring out the life in the art. It’s in their very stillness they burst with the power of sensuality. Like you, Marguerite. Absolutely still like this, by my command, you’re a Goddess.”

"How do I tell you if something is wrong, if I need to stop?"
"I'll be watching you very closely." Tyler knew a safe word or gesture would do her no good at this juncture because everything was panicking her.
