One Night with Sole Regret 05 Tie Me by Olivia Cunning Page A

haphazard pile. He seemed to be having second thoughts, but she wasn’t going to let him change his mind. She should have gone up to help him with the rope so he didn’t have time to think of that other woman—Sara.
    “Sorry, I interrupted,” he said. “If you need to work, I’ll—”
    “No.” She cut him off before he could say leave . She knew that’s what he was going to say, and she wouldn’t let him. “I was just passing the time while I waited for you.”
    She stood from the piano bench and leaned over to remove the prop that held the baby grand’s lid open. She carefully lowered the lid and slid her hands over the smooth surface. Her heart was thudding like a jackhammer, but she wasn’t going to chicken out. She always worried about doing the wrong thing, about appearances, about disappointing someone, but tonight she was doing what she wanted to do. For once, she’d forget about the pressures of the outside world and allow this man to set her free by binding her body. She still wasn’t sure what that meant, but she trusted that he was going to show her.
    She again turned to him and found him clutching the long coils of rope in front of his crotch. She hoped that meant he was hiding another erection, though he couldn’t possibly be as aroused by her as she was by him.
    “Will those ropes work?” she asked, nodding toward his crotch.
    “They’re surprisingly soft and supple. Exactly the kind of rope I’d have selected for your first time. It’s almost like…”
    “Destiny,” she said.
    He smiled and leaned back against the piano for support. “Except I would have chosen a green rope instead of blue, to match the pretty flecks in your hazel eyes.”
    He’d noticed her eye color? She loved that he’d been paying that much attention to detail. It meant he was interested. Didn’t it?
    “Blue for the ocean,” she said. “Like our song.” She stiffened suddenly. “That’s it.”
    “That’s what?”
    “The name of our song. Blue. I’ll call it Blue.”
    “Doesn’t blue usually mean sad?” he said. “That song is joyous, not blue. It made me feel happier than I’ve felt in five years.”
    Her breath caught, and she felt a strange prickling behind her eyes. Her work had touched him that deeply? “It did?”
    He nodded.
    “What would you call it?” she asked him.
    “Dawn.”
    “Yes?”
    “No, that’s what I’d call it. Dawn.”
    She grinned. “Kind of narcissistic to name a song after yourself, isn’t it?”
    “But it’s like dawn. A beautiful departure from darkness. The end of the inky night sky. The awakening of light that turns the sky blue again. The beginning of a new day.”
    Though her tummy was a jumble of butterflies, she couldn’t tear her gaze from his. She knew he wasn’t just saying strings of pretty words to woo her—though they were quite effective in that regard—but that he really felt what he was saying. And she realized he felt that way about her. She was his dawn. The end of his darkness.
    Or maybe she was just wishful thinking.
    “Take off your dress,” he said.
    Her mouth dropped open in shock. So maybe he wasn’t as romantic as she thought.
    “I mean, if you’re ready to begin,” he said.
    She was. She just had whiplash from the speed at which he changed gears.
    Dawn unfastened the wide belt at her waist, letting the strap of leather fall to the floor.
    She grabbed the skirt of the loose dress and took a deep breath before tugging the entire garment over her head. She tossed it aside, standing before him in her white lace bra and panties.
    The heat of his gaze made her blush, and a powerful shame drew her hands to cover herself as much as possible.
    “Don’t hide,” he said. “You’re beautiful.”
    She didn’t feel beautiful. She felt awkward. She’d always hated that she was so tall, that her hips were too narrow, her breasts too small, her shoulders too wide.
    “Beautiful,” he said again. “I’ve never bound a woman as tall