With the huge cabbage in the shopping cart, Sophie followed Maureen toward the checker.
“Hell, it’s just s*x,” she quipped lightly.
“Shush!” Maureen silenced her. “I don’t want to hear any more.”
***
It was nearly a week before Sophie faced her dilemma again. She hadn’t been sure she’d actually agreed to do the shoot, but when Martin called her on Thursday to confirm for the following day, he assumed she’d be coming and she assumed she’d be there.
Friday it was another matter.
“How would you feel in a collar, Sophie?” the question whipped through her mind like the tendrils of a chilly wind through a desert canyon. She felt empty and deserted with this man—as though she was as vacant as a cloudless sky.
His name was Jon Rush—the man in the charcoal one-of-a-kind suit—blue eyes, je
