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“Just these items,” I mutter. Shit, I’m out of time, and I still don’t know if I’m going to see her again. I have to know whether there’s a hope in hell she might consider what I have in mind. How can I ask her? Am I ready to take on a new submissive, one who knows nothing? Shit. She’s going to need substantial training. I groan inwardly at all the interesting possibilities this presents . . .fuck me, getting there is going to be half the fun. Will she even be interested? Or do I have this all wrong?

She heads back to the cashier’s desk and rings up my purchases, all the while keeping her gaze cast down. Look at me, dammit! I want to see her beautiful blue eyes again and gauge what she’s thinking.

Finally she raises her head. “That will be forty-three dollars, please.” Is that all?

“Would you like a bag?” she asks, slipping into salesclerk mode as I pass her my Amex.

“Please, Anastasia.” Her name—a beautiful name for a beautiful girl—rolls off my tongue.

She packs the items briskly and efficiently into the carrier. This is it. I have to go.

“You’ll call me if you want me to do the photo shoot?” She nods as she hands back my charge card.

“Good. Until tomorrow, perhaps.” I can’t just leave. I have to let her know I’m interested. “Oh, and Anastasia? I’m glad Miss Kavanagh couldn’t do the interview.” Delighting in her stunned expression, I sling the bag over my shoulder and saunter out of the store.

Yes, against my better judgment, I want her. Now I have to wait . . . fucking wait . . . again.

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