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  The large white house appeared as the trees parted. It too was beautiful and stately, the house her father had built for his queen. It was where her childhood was spent, but it was no longer her home. That was in Vermont.

  Dexter and Natalie walked hand in hand up the front stairs. When the front door opened, Nat expected to see the familiar face of one of the staff. She didn't.

  “Natalie!” Claire called as she raced forward and wrapped her daughter in her arms. When her mother finally pulled back, her emerald-green eyes were full of tears. To Natalie, her mother never aged, as beautiful today as the pictures of her when her parents first married. There had always been a large painting of her mother in her wedding dress adorning the wall above the fireplace in the sitting room. “Thank God. I've missed you so much.”

  Claire held tightly to Nat's hand as she turned to the man beside her daughter. “Hello, you must be Dexter Smithers.”

  He bowed his head respectfully. “Yes, ma'am. It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Rawlings.”

  Claire's cheeks rose. “That's rather formal from the man who stole my daughter's heart. Please, my name is Claire.”

  During their telephone calls, Nat reiterated the stories from the emails, how during her adventure of self-discovery, she'd met Dexter. At first, he'd helped her, staying with her and keeping her safe. With time, their relationship grew. Dexter was now the man she loved, the one she was engaged to marry. In reality, her stories were true. It was just their adventures that varied.

  As they all stepped inside, three sets of eyes turned to the dominating footsteps of Nat's father entering the foyer. Dropping her mother's hand and stepping away from Dexter's possessive touch upon her lower back, Natalie ran to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Without hesitation, he embraced her.

  “Daddy.”

  “My little Nat. You had us all very worried.” Even at his age, his deep voice summoned respect while commanding any situation.

  She reached for her father's large hand and led him back to where Dexter and her mom stood. With her heart thumping, she stepped closer to Dexter and said, “Daddy, I want to introduce you to my fiancé.”

  Her father's shoulders broadened and neck stiffened. Before Natalie could say anything, her mother's petite hand landed upon her father's sleeve. As Claire's diamond ring glittered and prisms of rainbows danced, her touch served as a gentle reminder that this was not the time for Anthony Rawlings to assert his dominance.

  Her father let out a long breath and offered his hand. “Hello, son. It's high time we finally meet you.” The address was a statement of Anthony’s position and age, not a term of endearment. This battle wasn’t over. Anthony Rawlings didn't surrender.

  “Sir,” Dexter said.

  “My husband, Nat's father...Mr. Rawlings,” Claire said, introducing the two men. “Tony, this is Dexter.”

  “Dexter Smithers,” Dexter repeated.

  Tony's dark eyes narrowed. “Relation to Jonas?”

  Surely he knew the truth. Anthony Rawlings would have known after the first time he saw Dexter's name. If he didn't know on sight, a search by his security would have been conducted and within moments the dots connected.

  There was no reason for Dexter to deny it. “Yes, sir, his only son.”

  “We lost touch. I didn't know he had a son.”

  “Second wife. Only child, a little later in life. My father's no longer with us.”

  “I'm sorry to hear that,” Tony said.

  Natalie watched and listened as her father and Dexter spoke. She'd never heard about Dexter's family. She'd spoken about hers, but he'd never offered. Yet in merely seconds, her dad had shed more light than Dexter had offered in over five months.

  “Dexter, can we offer you a drink before dinner?” Claire asked.

  “Thank you, I'm not much of a drinker.”

  Tony nodded toward an archway. “Cognac. It's a man's drink.”

  “We also have water or soft drinks if you’d prefer,” Claire offered.

  As they all started walking toward the sitting room, Claire reached for Natalie's hand. “If you gentlemen will excuse us for a moment, I have a few things upstairs for Nat.” She smiled. “Your Christmas gift.”

  Natalie looked to Dexter. She wasn't supposed to leave his side or speak out of his sight. He'd made the rules crystal clear. Failure to abide by them would result in a stay in the basement room. It was truly her biggest nightmare. She’d willingly take the sting of his belt or a crop. It usually resulted with him inside her and the relief that only he can bring her. The room and all it represented was something else. It meant being alone or—as she’d learned—worse, not being alone.

  The panic may have shown in her gaze until he grinned and kissed her cheek. “Hurry back.”

  “I hate to leave you.”

  Dexter shook his head. “I’ll be fine, bug.”

  The tendons in her father’s neck stretched at the sound of Dexter’s demeaning nickname.

  “Be nice, Daddy,” Nat said.

  “Of course...” His deep voice echoed through the foyer. “Dexter, join me in the sitting room while they catch up. We have things to discuss.”

  As she walked up the stairs with her mother, Natalie looked back down toward the room that held her fiancé and her father. “Mom, do you think they’ll be all right?”

  Claire smiled. “For a short time.” She then went on, chatting about Natalie, how beautiful she looked, how handsome Dexter was... She asked about the sights Natalie had visited and then when they reached her parents’ room, Claire led Nat inside and shut the door.

  As the latch closed, her mother's emerald eyes no longer shone. There was darkness in their depths that stung Natalie with a bite worse than the slap of a crop. Somehow, in this brief span of time, her mother knew. She knew Nat's secrets... knew what happened behind closed doors.

  “Is he good to you?” Claire asked.

  Natalie shifted, finding it difficult to keep her mother's gaze. “He can be, Mom. He really can.”

  Claire's eyes closed as her face momentarily fell forward. When she looked back up, Natalie's eyes were wet. Claire wrapped her daughter in her arms. “Tell me if you love him.”

  “I do. I can't explain it. Please don't ask me to.”

  “I don't need to ask. I understand.”

  Natalie's head shook. “I don't think you do. It's not like you and Dad.”

  Taking a step back, Claire sighed. “Oh, my baby. Someday when you have children, you'll understand the struggle. Parents are complicated. We play such a vital role in our children's lives. Sometimes we keep secrets hidden to protect, but it seems that it doesn't always protect; it leaves the door open, an invitation to those who lie in wait.”

  “I'm not sure what you're talking about.”

  “Does he value your feelings and opinions?”

  It was a strange question, yet Nat answered. “He wants them. He's always asking me to tell him how I feel and what I'm thinking.”

  Claire smiled. “That took your father longer.”

  “Mom?”

  “I love you, Natalie Rawlings. I always will.”

  “I know, Mom. I love you, too.”

  “Your father does too. We also love one another.”

  Natalie slapped her hands against her side as she let out an exasperated breath. “I know. I always thought I wanted what you have, but then with Dexter...”

  Claire reached for her daughter's hand and led her to a small sofa where they sat. “This may not make a lot of sense right now, but please let me try to explain.”

  Nat nodded.

  “When I found a man I loved more than life itself and whose love for me was overwhelming, I was alone. I didn't have my mother to talk to or to give me her support. I'm not unhappy with the final result, but let me just say that the journey would've been easier if I wouldn't have made it alone. I know you aren't ready to hear or say more. I can see it in your eyes. They're mine. They always have been, different from Nate's and so
much different from Nichol's. Natalie, you are me.”

  “I'm not...” A tear trickled from her freshly painted eyes as her words faded away.

  “You are. The question I asked—if he’s good to you—was the same question your Uncle John asked me a long time ago. You answered it exactly as I did.”

  “Mom?”

  “No matter what I need to do,” Claire said, “I want you and Dexter to know that I won't judge you. I won't lose my baby or her babies. Your father will be more difficult—he is—but leave him to me. Please promise me that no matter what the future holds, no matter your last name, you'll always be a Rawlings.”

  “I don't know about my name. Dexter and I haven't discussed...”

  Claire smiled. “I don't mean your legal name. I’ve suspected from your emails, but seeing you, I know.”

  “Know what?”

  “I know that you have a man in your life. One who consumes your thoughts, who takes up most of the room in your heart, but, baby, there's always room for more. I know, because there was a time I believed your father was my everything. It's not that he wasn’t or isn't. It's that each time I learned that I was going to have a child, my heart grew. The same will happen for you. I'm just asking that you also keep a spot for us—for your family and especially for me. No matter what, I'll be there.”

  Natalie leaned into her mother's embrace. “I love you, Mom.”

  After their hug, Claire rose and walked to a bookshelf, reaching for a small box with a ribbon. She came back and handed it to Natalie. “Merry belated Christmas.”

  Nat's eyes watered as she opened the hinged box to the delicate necklace. “It's like yours and Nichol's necklaces.” A small pearl sat nestled in a white-gold X.

  “It is. I'm not sure why we never had one made for you before. But when you weren't at Christmas, I realized how much the necklace means to me and to your sister. Your father and I gave your great-grandmother's necklace to Nichol when she was young. It was your dad who surprised me by having one remade for me. It's more special that I can even articulate.”

  Claire smiled as she touched Nat's hand. “Yours and mine are identical; they're replicas. That doesn't make them less than Nichol's. It makes ours the same, like us. I can see it in your eyes and hear it in your voice. Natalie, you’re no longer our baby.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You're a beautiful woman and always know that we’re proud of you.” She lifted Nat’s left hand and looked at the ring. “That’s beautiful. He loves you, too.”

  “He does.” Nat’s cheeks filled with pink as her heart swelled. “Thank you, Mom. I was afraid that after Harvard—”

  Claire squeezed her hand. “Sometimes our lives take a detour. Though at first it may seem wrong, it can provide an opportunity to live a life different than we ever imagined. Are you happy with where yours took you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then that’s all that matters. I have another gift for you, but right now, let's go back downstairs. I think it might be beneficial to keep your father and Dexter supervised.”

  Chapter 26

  Acceptance of what has happened is the

  first step to overcoming the consequences... ~ William James

  A few weeks later, back in Vermont, Dexter entered their master bedroom suite.

  Wearing only one of his shirts, Natalie rose and met her fiancé at the door.

  Dexter kissed her hair. “What have you been doing this evening?”

  She looked at him through veiled eyes. “Reading.”

  Reading didn't require a submissive gaze. Something wasn't as it appeared. His eyes went to the sofa where she'd been seated. His neck tensed, the muscles becoming rigid as his gaze landed upon the book she'd been reading. “Where did you get that?”

  “My mother.”

  “Your mother?”

  Natalie went to the sofa and lifted the old book. The pages were yellow and the spine was marred with the scars of multiple readings. On the cover was the title: My Life as It Didn't Appear.

  “Your mother gave you that?”

  Natalie nodded.

  “Why?”

  She shrugged. “I guess she decided I wasn't a baby who needed to be protected anymore. She thought it was time I knew the truth.”

  The book, My Life as It Didn't Appear, dictated by Claire Nichols Rawlings and penned by Meredith Banks, detailed Claire Nichols's meeting and first marriage to Anthony Rawlings. Upon its publication, it had been an instant bestseller. Through years of legal wrangling, which concluded over fifteen years ago, the Rawlings attorneys successfully had it removed from sale and circulation. The world forgot, ceasing to obsess over old news. There were more important stories. And through it all, somehow, Nat's parents had managed to keep its existence, as well as its contents, hidden from their baby girl.

  “And how does it make you feel about your father?” Dexter asked.

  “You know what it's about?”

  “Bug.”

  Her entire body stiffened. He'd asked her a question. Instead of answering, she'd replied with her own question. Natalie quickly re-spoke, “No different.”

  “How can you say that?”

  “How can I not?” Natalie replied. “And before you reprimand me, that is an answer. I don't feel differently. Why would I?”

  Dexter led her to the sofa and they sat. “What do you mean?”

  “How could I think less of him when I love you?”

  It took Dexter a minute, but then he let go of her hand and went to the bookcase. Behind a false panel—one that she didn't know existed—Dexter brought out a copy of the same book.

  Natalie shook her head as she reached for it. “How?”

  “I found it among my father's things after he died.” Dexter opened the cover and pulled out a yellowed piece of paper. “And this.”

  Natalie silently read. It wasn't legal, no binding contract. It was simply an agreement between college friends. They'd begun a company: CSR-Company Smithers Rawlings. Together they vowed to make it great, uniting their families and lives forever.

  “What happened?” Nat asked.

  “After a few years your father bought mine out. It was very amicable. Mr. Rawlings paid my father a generous sum. They both went on to do very well. You know about your father. Mine took the money and started investing in real estate. It wasn’t the buyout. It was the part about keeping the two families united that got me thinking. My mother was also gone, so I didn’t have a family. I wanted one. Then I read the book and looked into the Rawlings family. That was when I knew...”

  Natalie laid the book on the sofa and fell to her knees. Her bare core clenched as she scooted between his spread legs. Looking up, she spoke. “It was when you knew I belonged to you...that we were meant to be a family?”

  “Yes, bug. That we belonged together. I knew what I wanted, what I needed. And after watching you for a while, I knew in my heart that you were born to be my queen.”

  “But my dad...” It wasn't easy for her to read the things her father had done to her mother. It was even more difficult to say them. “...she awoke to luxury?”

  “Is that a question?”

  “I think it is.”

  “I didn't use your mother's story as a guide. It simply gave me an idea of how you'd respond. Think about it. Your mother came from a simple life. Your father gave her what she'd never experienced.”

  Natalie nodded. “A detour. I came from wealth—from everything.”

  “And did you appreciate it?”

  “No, not really. It just was. I didn't question it. I appreciate it more now.”

  Dexter kissed her hair. “I love you, Nat. Do you think that one day you'd want to write down our story for our daughter to read?”

  Her cheeks warmed. “No, I'd rather keep it in my heart. But if one day I think she needs to hear it, I'll share.”

  “You will?”

  “I will. It helps to know that there isn't anything wrong with me. I'm not the only one to experien
ce these feelings.”

  “What feelings?”

  “Love so overpowering it consumes me. An irrational yet intoxicating need to both please you and make you happy that supersedes all else, even my own safety.”

  “No. Your safety was never and will never be in question. I told you that safety is a matter of trust. Do you trust me?”

  “I do.” After all of the things he'd done and all that she willingly accepted, how could she not?

  “Danger,” Dexter went on, “is something else. However, eliciting your tears doesn't put you in danger. It's never to harm you. It's to hurt you. There's a difference. What we do is controlled pain, learning how much you can handle, how much you're willing to sacrifice for me. It's seeing my marks on your skin and hearing your cries. That doesn't make me want to harm you, but to worship you.”

  Nat nodded. “I understand. After a few weeks in that room, I found myself anxious for your arrival while at the same time scared. I feared I was going crazy. I mean, I shouldn't have wanted what I knew you'd do.” She looked at the book. “Now I know that I'm not crazy. Like my mom has said: it is what it is. Don't fight what you can't change. Now it makes more sense.

  “It's what we enjoy behind closed doors. And that's okay.” She smiled. “You asked what I'd sacrifice. For you, my king, anything.” She knew in her heart there were no limits. “I'd move naked into the room in our basement if you desired.”

  Dexter's eyes shone as he reached for the buttons lining the front of her shirt-dress. “I think I like having you here in our room, naked and on your knees.”

  Relief washed through her as she leaned back on her bent toes, shifting to his desired position. “I love you.”

  After he’d opened her shirt-dress, he looked down to her spread legs. “Are you wet, my queen?”

  “Yes.”

  “What will you do to earn the right to come?”

  Her heart hammered within her chest as her thighs glistened. “Like everything else, that decision is yours. I willingly give you control. As always, my answer is anything.”