On Her Master's Secret Service (2 page)

He ran a hand through his hair. He looked so much older than he had a week ago, his mouth turning down in a perpetual grimace. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

He wouldn’t jostle her. Maybe she would get some sleep if he were in bed with her. “You won’t. There’s plenty of room.”

He shook his head, picking up the papers and holding them to his chest like they were something precious. “I move too much. I would end up next to you.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?” He hadn’t touched her since before the incident, nothing beyond the merest brushing of his hands across her as he settled a blanket around her or helped her out of bed.

He sighed, a heavy sound. “Eve, you flinch when I touch you.”

Because she could still feel Michael Evans violating her. She could still feel his hands slapping at her as he tied her down, feel the knife he’d used to carve her up.

I think you perverts call this knife play. Play. I like to play, too. Tell me something, whore, does your husband play like this?

She shivered.

“You see,” Alex said, turning away. “You can’t even think about it.”

“I wasn’t thinking about you, Alex.” The whole time she’d been in that room Evans had kept her in, all she’d been able to think about was getting home to Alex. He was right there. He was six feet away. Why did it feel like a chasm had opened up between them?

“I can be patient, angel,” Alex said quietly. “It’s going to be okay, but for now it’s probably best that I don’t get into bed with you. You’ve been through so much. I can’t stand the thought of causing you more pain.”

But being apart from him was a different kind of agony. She was just about to argue when she caught sight of herself in the mirror. The bandage around her neck had come slightly undone, and there was no way to miss the stitches that ran down her skin. She looked like Frankenstein, newly stitched together and unleashed on the world. Her face was a mass of bruises and her lip was just beginning to deflate.

Maybe Alex didn’t want to sleep with her for different reasons.

For years she’d been his submissive and he her proud Dom. He would take her to the club they belonged to and gain great pleasure from showing off her beauty.

She wasn’t very beautiful now. She was battered, and she wasn’t sure she would ever be the same again.

“What if I can’t get into slave pose?”

She found it comforting. Since he’d introduced her to D/s, she’d greeted him at least once each day by falling to her knees and allowing them to splay wide, her head bowed and palms up on her thighs. She kept a perfectly straight back even though she was bigger than many of the girls. She’d tried to diet, but Alex always stuffed her with sweets.

Her legs were scarred now and one of her ankles had nearly broken. What if she couldn’t be his partner? What if her days as his submissive were over?

He reached out for her, but then drew his hand back. “You don’t worry about that right now, Eve. Angel, I would understand if you never called me Master again.”

His words didn’t make sense. He was her Master. They’d made an agreement. They had a contract. They’d sat in bed one day shortly after they’d met and spent the day discussing what their contract would be. When they’d gone over hard and soft limits, they had kissed and played. When they discussed their duties to each other, he’d been deep inside her. Their contract was intimate and real. They were married. They talked about everything. A contract could be cold. Ian wrote up cold contracts because he didn’t love the
submissives
he took. But their contract had been warm and happy and it connected them.

What if he didn’t want her now that Michael Evans had used her?

She’d changed her whole life to be with Alex. She loved their life together. What if it was all over?

“I can’t have a baby.” Maybe that was what had put that dark look in Alex’s eyes.

He shook his head. “That is not what the doctor said.”

No. He’d been very clinical about the whole thing. He’d talked about damage to her uterus and losing one of her ovaries in the accident. He’d nearly performed a hysterectomy. The internal bleeding had been worse than he’d thought at first, but one of the nurses fought for her. It had been touch and go for a while. “It’s unlikely.”

“Unlikely isn’t never. And I don’t care about that. I’m just happy you’re alive.”

He didn’t seem happy. He seemed grave and grim. The only time he became animated was when he was running down a lead on Evans. Then his face was flush and a passionate anger would seep into his eyes.

“It’s going to be all right,” he promised. “You’ll see. I’m going to catch him and you’ll feel safe again.”

She might never feel safe again. “I don’t want to talk about him. I want to forget him.”

She knew she couldn’t forget, but she needed to try to find some normalcy again and she couldn’t do that without her husband. She caught another glance of herself in the mirror and the deep need to argue with him fled. She couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes slid away from her. He didn’t want to be here.

He didn’t want to look at her.

Suddenly the ache inside her had nothing to do with her bones.

Alex hung his head as he grabbed his laptop. “You’ll see. You’re going to feel so much better when you know he can’t hurt you again. I’m going to give this to you. I screwed up and you paid the price, but I’m going to make this right.”

She reached out to him, but he was already at the door. She pulled her arm back before he turned. How could she tell him that he couldn’t make it right again? She wasn’t sure at this point that she could even come back from what she’d been through. It was so close. Every time she closed her eyes, she could see that face looming over her. She needed Alex to take those visions away from her.

“I need you.” She hated how small her voice sounded.

“I’m here, angel.” He set the papers down and moved toward her. He crossed the space between them. The space between. There’d never been space between them before. Even when they were miles apart, she could feel him. They were married in every way—their hearts and minds and souls melded together. But now she felt every inch of air and distance that separated them.

He reached out, his fingers brushing her, and she flinched because every piece of her skin was still sensitive.

Alex nearly jumped back, his whole face flushing with horror. “I’m sorry.”

She was making it all worse. “Please give me some time.”

She couldn’t lose Alex. She would heal. She would work. She would make her way back to where she’d been before.

Alex was at the door again. “I’ll give you all the time you need. I’m going to find him. I’m going to get him for you.”

“I don’t need that.” She didn’t want him out in the field now. Tears streamed down her face, making the world a blurry mess. “I don’t want you out there with him. Please, Alex. Stay with me.”

“I will if you need me to.” He hesitated, his fingers curling around those files that meant so much to him. “Warren can handle it. And Ian’s looking into things on the side.”

But he wanted to handle it himself. He wanted it so bad. It was right there on his face. Her heart fell. He wanted his revenge. He could say it was all for her, but it was really because he could control this part of his life. Chasing after Michael Evans was active. Sitting at her bedside and hoping she healed was not.

“I’ll be fine.” Maybe when the scars were gone, he could forget that she’d been such a victim. Maybe she could forget. Maybe they could find normal again.

“Are you sure?”

She wasn’t sure of anything. Nothing. Her world had flipped, and she hated where she’d landed. She’d learned so much about herself. She’d learned that she could break, that she was fragile.

Now she was learning that her marriage was fragile, too.

“You should go and help Ian.” Perhaps being with Ian for a few days would be good for him. Ian would watch out for him.

She trusted Ian with Alex’s life. Though Warren had been his partner for the last few years, she preferred knowing that Ian was watching his back. Perhaps Ian could talk to Alex. Ian hadn’t hesitated around her. Ian had reached for her and when she’d flinched, he’d growled at her. He’d told her he wasn’t that “motherfucker who hurt her” and he demanded that she accept his comfort.

Ian didn’t feel the guilt Alex did. Maybe he could help Alex.

She needed her husband. God, she needed her Dom so badly.

“I love you, Eve.” He whispered the words. “I’m so sorry.”

She closed her eyes as though she was going back to sleep. She heard the door close.

She didn’t need his sorrow. She didn’t need his guilt. She needed his strength, but she couldn’t ask for it because she’d changed on a fundamental level. She wasn’t his sweet little innocent sub anymore.

Time. She needed time.

She let her hand find the bandage over the spot where he’d nearly split her throat.

Did time heal all wounds? Perhaps not. Perhaps it just brought scars that proved she’d survived on a physical level.

But she might have lost her soul because she wasn’t sure her marriage had survived at all.

Eve closed her eyes and prayed for dreams of yesterday.

Dallas, Texas

Present Day

Alex McKay felt his stomach churn as he stared at the projection in front of him.

“Do you know how dangerous this could be?” Ian Taggart asked.

The conference room was quiet. Not one sliver of early morning light made it past the tightly drawn shades. The sun was coming up. He knew it because of the time, but in the dark conference room, it still felt like night, utterly dark, the only illumination a series of slides that depicted his life in tragic photos.

He sighed and simply clicked to the next slide. The last thing he needed was Ian telling him how dangerous Michael Evans could be. He knew that up close and personally. Michael Evans had cost Alex McKay just about everything he cared about in the world. His job. His future. But most of all the fucker had cost Alex his wife. And that was why he was going to find him no matter the cost.

“The last time I had a source contact me, they believed Evans was in Argentina, but that was over a year ago. This is the first time he’s surfaced since then.” He kept his voice moderate, like he was just going over another Tuesday morning case file and not the most important events of his life.

Adam Miles slipped into the room, sliding into the seat to Alex’s left. “Is there a reason we’re having a meeting at six in the morning? I don’t think I should have to be awake before the sun is.”

Jake Dean rolled his eyes as he followed his partner. Jake and Adam always worked together, but then they pretty much did everything together—including their wife, Serena. “He’s bitching because I refused to let him wake up Serena this morning.”

“I don’t do well without a good-bye kiss,” Adam said, sulking a little.

Ian groaned, sitting back in his massive leather chair. Dressed for business, the early morning hours did not seem to faze Ian at all. Unlike Alex, who was still in sweat pants and a T-shirt, Ian had come into work in a designer suit. It would make most men look civilized, but Ian just looked like a well-dressed gangster, the kind who could kill a man and never even wrinkle his clothes. “Adam, dude, get out from behind Serena’s skirts.”

“I spend all my time trying to get into her skirts, boss,” Adam shot back.

“If you’re all done here, I would like to continue.” Alex really didn’t have time to sit and listen to how fucking happy Adam was. “Or we can just close this thing up right now and I can handle this on my own.”

“What crawled up Alex’s butt and died?” Jake asked in a whisper that absolutely everyone in the building could probably hear.

“Shut up, Jake.” Ian leaned forward. “Michael Evans seems to have surfaced.”

“Fuck.” Jake looked up, and even in the dim light of the predawn conference room, he could see the solidarity in Jake’s eyes. “Anything you need, man. We’re here. Where’s Li, by the way? Tell me he didn’t kill the English asshole?”

“Like he bloody well could.” Simon Weston was damn quiet. He’d slunk into the room without anyone noticing. As the newest member of the McKay-Taggart Security Service’s team, the former MI6 agent hadn’t much tried to fit in with anyone past Ian. Ian seemed to have taken the man under his wing despite the fact that Simon had nearly blown up their last assignment. He’d been fooled by Eli Nelson, and didn’t Alex know that feeling. Despite his surly attitude, Alex felt a bit of a kinship with Simon. He knew damn well what it was like to get his ass handed to him on an operation. “Liam had other plans this morning, and this is just a friendly little info share. I can fill him in later.”

He’d pointedly not invited Liam this morning, and he’d lucked out because this was Liam and Avery’s weekly breakfast with Eve. Liam and Eve had gotten close over the years, and she adored Li’s new wife, Avery. They were the perfect distraction. Eve usually came in early, but Tuesdays were spent at a local café.

“Who’s Michael Evans and why does everyone look like their best mate just got run over?” Simon asked. He stood in the back, not bothering with one of the four seats left.

Alex directed his attention to the projection on the wall. It was a picture of a man he knew far too well. “This is Michael Evans, thirty-seven. He’s a homegrown terrorist. He ran a small commune in the northern section of Idaho. No name. Just two hundred acres and a belief that the United States government has grown corrupt. I’ll admit, it’s not just the US government Evans has a problem with. It’s mostly all of society. The FBI didn’t pay much attention to him until we discovered his ties to jihadist leaders in Mexico. Between 2001 and 2005, Evans made over fifty trips to Central America. The CIA marked him as a potential stateside contact for the Taliban and Al-Qaeda and other associated groups.”

Simon nodded. “Yeah, I remember him now. He was all over the news a couple of years back. I was actually in the States when he was arrested. He grew drugs on that land of his and funded small cells. They bombed low profile sites, if I remember correctly. I found it rather odd that they didn’t choose high value targets.”