When he slid the dress on, Vance realized how utterly fickle he was. Looking into Mrs. Roman’s sharp, dark eyes, he knew he’d do anything she demanded him to do—on national television, if she decided to abuse and degrade him in front of the world. Her specialty was inducing men to worship her, and nobody did it better.
Yet, in a normal world, if Vance had met Nastassia without ever knowing Sable or Mrs. Roman, he could imagine a budding, wholesome love affair blossoming into a relationship conventional enough to result in marriage, as long as Nastassia continued to whip him in the privacy of their bedroom. Gazing into Nastassia’s eyes, a warmer brown than Mrs. Roman’s, he saw kindness lurking beneath her persona of disciplinarian and enforcer.
But when he looked into Sable’s dark blue ey
