In the hours he’d spent staring at the stars, he understood the last three months they’d been Domme and sub hadn’t been a game, or a trial, or even a test. It’d been him falling in love with her. Completely, totally, never-want-to-let-her-go, sit-at-her-feet-forever kind of love. He believed he was a man strong enough to love her, knowing the challenges he faced in giving a woman like her his lifelong devotion.

No matter what happened with their roles in the dojo, he’d be by her side, at her feet, in her bed every night.

He pulled up to her apartment building and parked out front. It drove the security guy nuts, but after the time Knox had shown up in his gi, the guy hadn’t said a word of complaint.

In a fit of pique Shiori might’ve scratched his name from her guest list, so he was forced to go make nice. He flashed a smile. “Hey. Knox Lofgren to see Shiori Hirano on the penthouse level.”

The security guard typed on his computer. Then his lips formed a sneer. “Sorry. No one by that name resides in this building.”

“Come on. Quit messing with me. Did she block me or something?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sir. The person whose name you gave me doesn’t live in this building.”

Now Knox was getting pissed. “Since when?”

Another smarmy sneer. “I’m not at liberty to disclose that information.”

“Then what the fuck good are you, huh?” He slammed his hands down on the reception desk. “Two days ago she lived here. Now you’re telling me she doesn’t? That’s bullshit.”

“Sir. Your agitation is making me uncomfortable.”

“I haven’t even fucking started to make you feel uncomfortable, dickhead. Tell me where the hell she is.”

The security guard’s gaze moved to someone behind Knox and he whirled around.

The woman in front of him, although very pregnant, had the carriage of a former soldier. The hard eyes of one too. “Whatever the problem is, yelling at the security guard won’t solve it,” she said coolly.

Knox counted to ten. “This guy is telling me that the woman I’ve been involved with, who has lived here for almost a year, who lived here up until two days ago, is no longer a resident.”

“I’m a resident here. Who are we talking about?”

“Shiori Hirano. She leased the penthouse.”

“The exotic-looking woman about yay big?” She held her hand to her own shoulder level. “Ran around in a gi half the time like some ninja badass?”

“Yes. That’s her. Have you seen her in the past day or so?”

She pushed a chunk of blue hair behind her ear and spoke to the security guard. “Thanks, Stevo. I’ll handle this.” Then she looked at Knox and gestured to a lounge area in the corner. “Let’s sit over there.”

Right. That was some kind of code for wait here asshole; we’re calling the cops. Knox shook his head. “I’m fine standing.”

“Well, I’m not,” she snapped. “This baby weighs two hundred fucking pounds, and I need to sit. If you want to talk to me, park it.”

And . . . Knox didn’t argue. Maybe this chick was one of Shiori’s Domme friends. She certainly had the air of command.

After they’d settled in, the woman gave him a shrewd once-over. “What branch?”

Yep, his former soldier impression had been dead-on. “Army. Twelve years. How about you?”

“Ironically . . . the same.” She offered her hand. “Liberty Masterson.”

“Knox Lofgren.”

“So, Knox, have you been gone or something and didn’t know your girlfriend moved out?”

“I’ve been gone twenty-four hours. Shiori and I also work together. We had some big changes at the dojo, and I needed time to get my head on straight.”

“Dojo?” she repeated. “You mean she wasn’t making a fashion statement with her clothing?”

“Hardly,” Knox said dryly. “She is a sixth-degree black belt, and her fierceness compensates for her size. She’s rubbed my face in the mat on plenty of occasions.”

“Interesting. So you went to get your head on straight . . . ?”

“In the great outdoors, where there wasn’t phone service. So I’m uneasy about the idea she might’ve just fucking moved in the forty-eight hours since I last saw her.” He glanced at her distended stomach. “Shit. I’m not supposed to swear in front of kids.”

Liberty rubbed her hand over her belly. “Junior gets an earful from me all the time, so no worries. Daddy and I will both clean up our language postbirth.” She paused. “My husband, Devin, and I are on the floor right below the penthouse.”