No idea. “I guess they saw my ad work with my other organicfood–based clients. Maybe lady luck is finally smiling on me.”

“You have to let me work on this project with you. Please.”

“You sure you want to do this now, Mol? The extra hours will cut into your social life.”

“The reason I love this job is that I get to use the creative side of my brain, not only my business side. It balances me.”

That tipped Amery into the yes camp of bringing Molly onboard. Ronin had mentioned the same type of thing: a need to express himself creatively outside of his normal routine. Who was she to deny Molly that chance?

Plus, she loved that she’d have someone to talk to and bounce ideas off for this opportunity.

She grinned. “Order us some Jimmy Johns and I’ll bring you up to speed over lunch.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

One month later

“AN hour?” Take a deep breath. “Absolutely I can be there. I’ll be meeting with Maggie?” She felt her hopes plummeting. “No. I understand. Of course. Please tell her I’m looking forward to it. Thank you.” She hung up the receiver and said, “Fuck.”

Molly poked her head in. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m pitching the Okada project today. In a freakin’ hour.”

“Amery, that’s great!”

“No, it’s not because I’m not pitching it to Maggie. The VP of Okada is here and I’m meeting with her.”

“The VP of the North American division?”

“No, the big VP. She answers directly to the president of the entire company.”

“Oh, man. What can I do?”

“Pat yourself on the back that we finished by the skin of our teeth last night.” She pointed to the studio, where they’d spread the design paperwork on the floor. “Get everything together. Check it. Double-check it. Triple-check it. Then put it in my portfolio and type me up a list of what’s included. I have to change into a power suit and get my game face on.” She scaled the stairs to her loft two at a time.

Amery tore through her closet. Where the hell were all of her dress clothes?

Dirty. She’d been so tied up in the Okada project and pounding the pavement for new clients that she hadn’t done laundry in two weeks.

Tied up. There was a play on words.

Her gaze landed on the coil of black rope on the floor. Strange, Ronin never left his ropes behind. But last night had been . . . intense. Even more intense than usual. Maybe he’d been as scrambled as she’d been this morning. She looked around and smiled. But he had remembered to take his gift.

Ronin had shown up late last night. After wrapping up the Okada project, she was wired. Like really wired. As soon as he’d ditched his overnight bag, she was on him. Kissing him crazily. Slipping her hands beneath his tank top and running her fingers all over his muscled torso. Biting and sucking on his neck with complete abandon.

“I take it you’re happy to see me,” he said, pushing her face back into his neck when she stopped sucking on his favorite spot. “More and harder.”

“I don’t want to leave a mark.”

“With you this restless tonight? Baby, I don’t care. I’ll wear your mark as a gift.”

She sucked on him until he hissed and she eased back. “Speaking of . . . I have a gift for you,” she whispered in his ear.

“For me? What’s the occasion?”

“Just because. Hang tight and I’ll get it.”

She’d made it halfway across the living room when she heard him say, “Strip for me.”

Amery turned and looked at him. “Don’t you want your present?”

“Yes. But you’ll give it to me when you’re naked.”

She whipped off her clothes. “Happy now?”

“Yes. Seeing your bare ass jiggle is a gift in itself.” He grinned at her. “But yeah, go ahead.”

She’d hidden the wrapped package in the linen closet. The brown paper wrapper wasn’t fancy, but she’d gone online and watched a video on how to tie decorative knots. So the twine was similar to the plain jute rope he used on her sometimes.

For some reason she had a bout of shyness when she returned with the package. But Ronin’s uncharacteristic “Gimme” made her laugh.

He studied the knot, as she’d hoped he would. When he looked up at her, pure pleasure shone in his eyes. “Someone has been studying up on knot-tying techniques.”

She shrugged and smiled.

He didn’t untie the knot; he said, “I’m keeping this as part of the gift,” and slipped the twine off. He tore the paper away and went motionless as the pieces fell to the floor.

“Do you like it? I know it’s probably bigger than what you were expecting, but I figured that no one else is going to see it but you.” She’d enlarged the picture he’d declared as his from the bondage cover photo shoot and framed it in an Asian-inspired red-and-black lacquered frame. It’d taken her a few weeks to find the courage to take it to a printing shop. Even then she’d chosen a place on the outskirts of Denver, given the clerk a fake name, and paid in cash—not that she’d ever confess that to Ronin.

The longer he stared at the explicit image without speaking, the bigger her fear became that he hadn’t really wanted a picture of her bound. “If you don’t want it . . .”

Those golden eyes met hers. Must’ve been a trick of the light, because for a split second she swore she saw a shimmer of tears.