Chapter 35

Bree's GPS beeped, breaking into her reverie, and the mechanical voice told her to turn one half mile ahead. And there it sat, in the center of a long stretch of what the locals called a pole fence. The gateway's sign proclaimed the entrance to Rancho Dominacion. She swallowed a chuckle. Emilio Dacosta, the host of today's munch, was listed on the San Antonio BDSM site as a Dom with his own group. She wondered how many people thought the name merely implied his standing in the ranching community.

A long driveway wound between verdant pastures where horses grazed and romped. At the end of the driveway sat the ranch house, a two-story adobe structure in a Spanish style architecture people thought of as symbolic of the state. The red tile roof reflected the blazing sun while the pale adobe walls promised a cool interior. The house was huge, with four large picture windows reflecting the late afternoon sun and a long veranda with an iron railing. The upper story rose gracefully to a red b