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Authors: Marcia James

BOOK: AtHerCommand
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“Beer for me,” Suzi said.

“Ditto,” Domino chimed.

Seating herself at the table with Suzi, Dom watched Dalton
play the host in her house. He looked so comfortable here, and the thought gave
her a warm, embarrassingly mushy feeling. What would it be like to come home
every night to Dalton?

After delivering their beer bottles, Dalton grabbed one for
himself and sat beside them. “To a quick and satisfying end to this case.”
Dalton raised his beer.

Dom and Suzi joined him in the toast and they each took a
swallow of beer before getting down to business.

“I want to go on record saying I do
not
like your new
plan.” Dalton looked at Suzi. “You’re a good friend and I hate like hell
putting you in danger.”

“It’s not like we have a lot of options,” Suzi said.
“Besides, I’m getting tendonitis giving all those massages.”

“Smart-ass,” Dalton groused, but he shot her a smile. “Well,
I got word today Captain Bennett and Dom’s boss Sam Lowery have signed off on
your plan. It’s a go.”

“When do we take the first step?” Domino asked.

Dalton considered. “Tomorrow’s Sunday and you’re both off
work, right?” They nodded. “On Monday Cho and I will meet for lunch. How ’bout
the Arlington McDonald’s on Route 50 at noon?”

“Sure,” Suzi said.

“Dom, you’ll come by and discover us there—without us
noticing you, of course,” Dalton explained with a wink. “Then you’ll run and
tell Salvi.”

“Dominatrix and tattletale,” Dom joked. “I always get the
glamour jobs.”

Dalton grinned at her and she knew from the wicked glint in
his eyes, he was thinking of his sessions with Mistress Bella. Blushing, she
tried to refocus the conversation. “If it goes as we expect, Salvi will ask me
to watch Suzi, instead of taking any action against her.”

“Yes,” Dalton agreed, his face suddenly grim. “But if Salvi
shows any sign of going in a different direction—”

“Like feeding me to his Doberman?” Suzi teased.

“Don’t joke,” Dalton said. “Salvi’s as cold-blooded as they
come.”

Suzi nodded, somewhat subdued.

Dalton turned to Dom. “If Salvi looks prepared to hurt Cho,
phone in a text message to Meyers. We’ll keep her safe. Meyers knows the plan
and will be waiting to hear from you.”

“Okay,” Dom said. “And once we’ve blown Suzi’s cover, when
will we take down Salvi?”

Something sparked in Dalton’s eyes and Dom was reminded of
how much he needed this revenge for his partner.

“Next Thursday night, you’ll ‘overhear’ Cho making a call on
her cell phone in the employee parking lot,” Dalton said. “That’s when you’ll
inform Salvi about her supposed meeting with a snitch from the Cabazone
family.”

“And when’s the meeting scheduled?” Suzi asked.

“If everything happens as planned, it’ll be next Saturday,”
Dalton answered.

“A week from now,” Dom murmured, squashing her concern that
the end of this case would also be the end of Dalton and her.

“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” Suzi said. “Where
does Victor Xavier fit into all this?”

“The owner of the Xecutive Branch is probably in the drug
running up to his eyeballs,” Dalton remarked. “But we have no proof. We’re
hoping we can get his lackeys to turn state’s evidence.” His mouth settled into
a hard line. “But everyone agrees we’re not cutting any deals with Salvi.”

“Good.” Anger was clear on Suzi’s face as well. “Salvi has
to be the one who had Jason killed.”

“I can’t wait to make the bastard pay.” Dalton’s eyes
burned. “And I’ll personally see to it he doesn’t get off on a technicality
this time.”

For several intense seconds, the three of them seemed bound
by the strength of their common goal—putting Salvi behind bars. Then Suzi
chugged the last of her beer, rose from her chair and set the bottle on the
counter. She pulled on her down jacket, which was hanging on the back of her
chair.

“Time for me to hit the road,” Suzi said. “Don’t do anything
I wouldn’t.”

“Okay, Mom,” Dalton joked, but he stood and hugged Suzi.

Instead of feeling jealous, Domino was warmed by his concern
for his friend. Dalton had quite a few admirable traits. He was a keeper, but
what could she offer him? She was a thirty-one-year-old workaholic who’d never
had a successful relationship. Dom mentally blocked her insecurities. She
wouldn’t let herself sabotage whatever time she had left with him.

With a wave, Suzi slipped out the back door and Dalton
secured it after her. Then he walked back to Dom and cupped her face in his
hands. “Tired?”

She shook her head. “I was until I saw you. I swear, you
send a caffeine buzz through my hormones.”

Gentle and very thorough, he kissed her, gliding his hands
to palm the nape of her neck. Dom’s skin grew super-sensitive, her nerves
humming like a tuning fork. Then Dalton ended the kiss and slid his hands to
hers. With a tug, he pulled her out of the kitchen and down the hall.

“Where’s Smokey?” she asked, following him to her bedroom.

“Conked out for the night,” Dalton said. “I arrived around
seven, so we’ve been playing some games to pass the time.”

Once inside her bedroom, he closed the door and pressed her
back against it. Using his tongue and his teeth, he explored the skin of her
neck from her ear to her shoulder. Dom moaned with pleasure, trying to keep the
thread of the conversation.

“What kind of games?” she asked, her voice breathy.

“Hmmm?”

“Games…you said you played games with Smokey?” she reminded
him.

“Oh.” He kissed his way across her throat to her other ear.
“You know, fetch, tug-of-war, doggie games.”

Somewhere in the fuzzy reaches of her mind, Domino couldn’t
understand why she kept talking. “But I don’t have any doggie toys.”

Dalton stopped mid-nip and leaned back to look at her face.
She briefly registered his guilty look. “Uh, how fond were you of those silver
sandals—the ones with the rhinestones on the heels?”

With a half groan, half laugh, she pulled his lips back to
hers.

Chapter Twenty-One

 

Domino swung her car into the 7-Eleven parking lot down the
street from the appointed meeting place. She was a little early but she wanted
to be close-by and ready when Dalton and Suzi staged their lunch at noon.
Killing the engine, Dom grabbed her purse, hopped out of her car and strode
through the slushy snow to the convenience store. She needed to buy something
in case she’d been followed. Hell, this whole dog-and-pony show was for the
benefit of anyone tailing Dalton, Suzi or her. For the plan to work, Salvi
needed to believe Dom was on his side.

Buying a soda and a newspaper, she headed back to her car
and climbed in. The February cold had worked its way through the age-worn seals
on the VW’s windows, so Dom started the engine and turned up the heat. Then
with one eye on the dashboard clock, she flipped through the paper.

Glancing up, she glimpsed herself in her rearview mirror—all
kiss-swollen lips and bedroom hair. Domino smiled. Before leaving this morning,
Dalton had lured her back to bed “for some good-luck loving”, he’d called it.
The insatiable man would use any excuse to get his hands on her. The sex had
been incredible, but it was his affectionate teasing that was battering down
her defenses. She was very afraid her heart had already surrendered.

They’d spent most of Sunday in bed, laughing and playing,
venturing out only for food. Today, her muscles ached in pleasant ways that had
her flashing back to memories of their sensual marathon. Each time she recalled
a vivid scene, Domino flushed with embarrassment and pride. She’d surprised
herself with her willingness to try new positions and sexy games.

Suddenly warm, Dom turned down the car’s heater. She’d lost
count of the number of orgasms she’d had with Dalton, yet she still yearned for
him. At this rate, she’d end up in a twelve-step sex addiction program when the
affair ended.

Not wanting to think about the future, she folded the
newspaper and sipped her cola. Dom suspected one reason behind Dalton’s
exuberant lovemaking had been excess energy. He was ready to arrest Salvi but
they’d had to wait until today to set things in motion. So Dalton had allowed
himself to think about something other than revenge for a day. And she’d been
happy to chase that haunted look from his eyes, even for a few hours.

Domino focused on the clock. Ten after twelve. She drove the
block to the fast-food rendezvous. Checking her mirrors, she kept a lookout but
didn’t spot a tail. She turned into the McDonald’s parking lot and spied Dalton
and Suzi eating at a table by the window. Time for her Oscar-worthy double
take.

Dom parked and killed the engine. Wishing she were a better
actress, she picked up her purse and opened her door. She had one foot out of
the car when she glanced toward the McDonald’s, looked away and then snapped
her head back to stare at the window. She let her mouth fall open as though
shocked by the sight of Suzi lunching with “the enemy”. Then she quickly got
back into her car and peeled out for the club.

Domino almost laughed. She’d felt like a silent movie
actress emoting for the camera. But then she sobered. Her next stop was Salvi’s
office and this time her very life just might depend on her dramatic skills.

* * * * *

“Did you see her?” Dalton asked as he picked up a fry. It’d
been harder than he’d expected not to turn his head and meet Dom’s gaze.

Suzi snorted. “Her car’s covered with white polka dots. Even
out of the corner of my eye, I can spot a spotted car.”

“It’s like a domino,” he explained. “Like her nickname.”

“Really?” Suzi considered for a moment and grinned. “Who’d
have thought our intrepid DEA agent had a whimsical side?”

He recalled Dom’s frilly bedroom, so at odds with the DEA
career operative. Images of flowered sheets led to body-stirring memories of a
Sunday in bed. Dalton’s hand stalled halfway to his mouth, his double
cheeseburger forgotten.

“Earth to Bull.”

At her words, Dalton snapped his attention back to Suzi.

“Have a nice trip?” she asked.

Feeling sheepish, he just grinned. Another time, he might
have made a smart remark about hot women and hotter sex, but with Domino, it
wasn’t just sex. What they had was private,
special,
even if he wasn’t
willing to examine his feelings yet. There’d be plenty of time for that after
they’d locked up Salvi.

“You two look good together.” Suzi sounded a little wistful.
“So don’t fuck it up.” To reinforce her point, Suzi beaned him with a Chicken
McNugget. He caught the deep-fried missile on the rebound and popped it into
his mouth.

Don’t fuck it up.
How the hell was he supposed to do
that when he hadn’t felt in control of his life since Jason’s death. And now a
woman he— Dalton interrupted the thought. A woman he
cared about
was
playing a very dangerous game with a sadistic killer while he sat in a
fast-food joint.
Damn it all to hell.
Forcinghimself to
concentrate on his meal, he tried not to worry about Dom’s meeting with Salvi.

* * * * *

“Suzi Cho’s a cop.” Domino stood inside the door of Salvi’s
opulent office and forced some of Mistress Bella’s cockiness.

The club manager, seated behind his mahogany desk, glanced
up, his face impassive. “Explain.”

With a confidence she didn’t feel, Dom closed the office
door and lowered herself into one of the upholstered visitors’ chairs. “Suzi
was eating lunch with Dalton Cutter. I saw them a few minutes ago at the
McDonald’s on Route 50 at Linden Street.”

“Did they see you?” Salvi’s eyes never registered surprise.
The man possessed a chilling reserve.

Dom sure hoped he wouldn’t kill the messenger. “I don’t
think so.” She crossed her legs and leaned back in the chair. “They were inside
the restaurant. I was just parking my car in the lot when I saw them through
the window. I came straight here to tell you.”

“And you’re sure it was Detective Cutter?” Salvi put a world
of disdain into Dalton’s title.

Domino frowned then nodded. “I’ll never forget his face.”
She leaned forward in the chair again. “What gets me is I liked Suzi. We used
to take cig breaks in the parking lot.” She allowed a look of disgust to cloud
her features.

“I want you to keep befriending Ms. Cho,” Salvi instructed.


What?
” This was what they wanted, but she had to
play it right. So Dom oozed incredulity.

The club manager shared his plan. “I have to know what the
police are after. Ms. Cho was hired long before the incident with Detective
Cutter. So what’s Cho’s assignment?”

He didn’t expect an answer but she needed to add some
details Dalton had suggested. “The day after Cutter was found in the loading
bay, Suzi asked me about it,” Dom offered.

“What exactly did she say?” Salvi’s hand traced the curved
handle of a silver letter opener, the unconscious sexuality of the action
disturbing.

“Suzi asked me if I’d heard about Joey and Hobart being
arrested. I told her ‘no’ and changed the subject.”

“Interesting.” The club manager picked up the dagger-shaped
opener and appeared to be studying his reflection in its polished surface.
“Anything else?”

This was the tricky part. Dom concentrated on giving Salvi
an open, unblinking stare that signaled honesty according to her training in
the body language of suspects. “She asked about CC, your special guest from New
York.”

With exaggerated care, Salvi placed the opener back on his
desk blotter. The corners of his eyes narrowed and his mouth tightened, the
most emotion he’d shown since she’d arrived. Domino didn’t wait for him to ask
before giving him the “facts”.

“I was in the break room after my session with CC,” Dom
began. “Suzi came in and said she’d heard about my special client from New
York. When I didn’t say anything, she asked me if I thought CC might be one of
the Cabazone family.” The flicker of anger in Salvi’s eyes was all the
confirmation she needed about CC’s identity.

“And what did you say to that, Ms. Petracelli?”

“I told her I didn’t know the last names of any of my
clients and I didn’t talk about clients anyway,” Dom said with all the
sincerity she could muster.

“Good.” The word held a warning. “Anything else?”

Domino shook her head, maintaining her dominatrix attitude.

“You’ll stick close to our cop masseuse,” he ordered. “And
you will keep me informed of her movements and her questions.”

Dom shrugged. “Sure, I can do that.”

“I’ll arrange for your schedules to coincide,” he said.

Salvi looked at the open file on his desk. She’d been
dismissed. Dom rose and walked toward the door.

“One more thing, Ms. Petracelli,” Salvi stopped her with his
words. When she turned back, the club manager managed a thin, cruel smile that
was worse than a soulless glare from a drug dealer. “The Xecutive Branch
rewards its loyal employees.” The unspoken phrase
and punishes its disloyal
employees
hung in the air. “Given your new responsibilities, you’ll be
seeing an increase in your paycheck immediately.”

“Thanks.” Dom forced a smile. The man gave her dread-induced
goose bumps even when he was pleased. Then she opened the office door and left,
striding down the hall with a nonchalance that would have done Mistress Bella
proud.

* * * * *

Dalton tied a knot on both ends of the ragged T-shirt and
tested its strength. It held and made a good tug-of-war toy for Smokey. He
glanced down at the crazy-haired mongrel who was gnawing a squeeze toy Dalton
had purchased. Was this scene domestic or what? It should scare the pants off
him but driving over to Dom’s house every evening felt like coming home.

Since inheriting Jason’s place, Dalton had moved his few
belongings into the cozy Cape Cod and had given up his furnished apartment.
It’d been no great loss. There were monks’ quarters with more homey touches than
that apartment. But living in his dead partner’s house didn’t seem right. And
now, he’d transferred some clothing to Dom’s closet, justifying the action
because they were working together. But he knew he was only fooling himself.
Domino was getting under his skin.

“I’m in deep shit,” Dalton muttered.

Smokey looked up from the kitchen floor as though he
understood the sentiment. Dalton patted his tufted head then walked to the
refrigerator and opened its door. Inside were the groceries he’d bought that
evening. Snagging a beer, he returned to the kitchen chair and sat down.

“So I’m stocking her fridge and leaving clothes in her
closet,” Dalton said to the dog. “It doesn’t mean we’re living together.”

Smokey made a snorting noise. Disgusted, Dalton took a swig
of the cold beer. He glanced at the wall clock, a silly plate-shaped thing with
knife and fork hands. It was another example of a side of Domino few people
ever saw. And it made Dalton’s chest ache to know she’d revealed that side to
him.

“It’s pushing midnight,” Dalton told Smokey. “She should be
home any minute.” The dog simply yawned and chewed the toy.

Dalton didn’t want to think about Dom’s meeting with Salvi,
but he wouldn’t relax until he was sure she was safe. All day he’d helped
Captain Bennett with the Cabazone family angle but they still had nothing solid
to go on. His other cases had been reassigned. So he had
way
too much
time to worry about Dom.

Smokey’s ears pricked a second before Dalton heard the
garage door mechanism start its slow upward grind. He resisted—barely—the urge
to walk to the garage to greet her. Not only would that put him in sight of
anyone watching the house but Dalton was pretty sure Dom wouldn’t appreciate
it. She’d mistake his concern for her with a lack of confidence in her
abilities as an agent. So he stayed where he was.

Several excruciating minutes later, Domino walked into the
kitchen, looking tired but happy. Because he wanted—much too much—to gather her
to him, to see for himself she was unharmed, Dalton remained seated. But he
smiled up at her.

“Hi,” she said, hanging her winter coat on the back of a
chair. She wore a fuzzy sweater and a long, swirling skirt, one of the few
feminine outfits he’d noticed in her jeans-filled closet. The colors were
vibrant and her black boots cupped her calves, climbing her legs and
disappearing under the skirt.

“Tell me about the meeting,” he ordered.

“Not so fast.” Dom straddled him and lowered herself onto
his lap.

Dalton thought she’d kiss him and he stared at her mouth in
anticipation. Instead, she leaned past him, picked up his beer and took a
swallow. The smooth white column of her throat was just inches away and he
hardened with his need to taste her. The spicy scent of her cologne triggered a
primal and urgent response. But he fought to keep his mind on the case.

“Domino…” He sounded gruff and threatening.

Laughing, she set down the bottle, braced her hands on his
shoulders and grinned. He suspected she was delighted with her effect on him.
But as much as he wanted her, he waited.

“Spoilsport,” Dom teased. “Okay, here’s the scoop. I met
with Salvi and it went as we hoped. He wants me to buddy up to Suzi and find
out what she’s doing at the club.”

“Are you sure he doesn’t suspect you?”

Domino sobered. “With Salvi, you can’t be sure of anything.
But I don’t believe he suspects me.”

Dalton nodded. “Then on Thursday, you’ll feed him the
information about the supposed Cabazone meeting this weekend.”

“Yep. Now, can we focus on other things?” Domino pressed
herself against the growing bulge in his pants and leaning forward, sucked his
lower lip into her mouth.

The double sensation hacked away at his control. Dalton
embraced her, his arms banding her body to his. He growled—or was it
Smokey?—and took her mouth. She tasted so damn good and he was afraid he’d
never get enough of her.

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