Danger Mine: A Base Branch Novel (19 page)

I
t had taken less
time than expected to get everything in order in DC. Her boys found Cara Lee. And she’d judiciously left Vail in charge of that explosive situation. She had more important business to attend to.

One month and twelve days after she left Anchorage, Khani walked into the office of the commander of the Base Branch’s London division— her old office.

“I knew you were coming and I still can’t believe my eyes.” Baine McCord’s rich bass rumbled across the room. He stood from his desk, from the mounds of files and errant papers, and strode around the side.

“I can’t believe you’re the freaking commander.” She hurried across the distance and tossed her arms around her friend.

After several seconds his arms tentatively encompassed her. “You want the job, say the word and it’s yours. Too much damn paperwork and too many meetings.”

“Not a chance.” She settled her heels onto the floor and looked up at his clean-shaven face. “Never thought I’d see the day you’d lose the beard.”

“Tell me about it. Alma and Alisa eyed me like an imposter for days.” He chuckled. “Never thought I’d see the day you’d hug me.” His light eyes twinkled with his smile. “What do they put in the water over there?” He nodded his head in the direction of the States. “I’ve known you for what, almost twenty years? And you’ve never even offered a hand shake.”

“I’m working on some personal shit,” she explained.

“Aren’t we all.”

“Speaking of personal, how are your ladies?”

“Come sit.” He directed her to one of the two chairs opposite his and he took the other. Well, his smile took up most of the chair. “They’re expensive. Why do you think I came back to the job?”

“Because you love making a difference.” Khani looped her heavy tote on the arm of the chair.

“There’s that too.” He nodded. “Two weeks ago we celebrated the girl’s fifth birthday. And if Sloan has her way, we’ll have a little boy’s birthday to celebrate next year.”

“What? Are you trying to…” she stalled, realizing how inappropriate the question was.

“Adoption,” he supplied. “He’s the cutest damn thing, but he’s tiny, squish-able.” Baine pulled a phone from his pocket and punched some numbers. A fat grin spread across his face. “Look.” He offered her the view of the screen and the swaddled grub displayed across it. “I don’t know what do with a baby.”

“When they came into your life you didn’t know what to do with the girls. You’ll figure this out in no time. They’re not near as breakable as they look.”

“Let’s hope not.” Baine stowed his phone and eased back into the chair with a baffled look cramping his face. “Now, before I give you the key to the building, so to speak, I need to make sure I understand something. You want me to demote you?”

“Yes.” She crossed her leg and sat forward.

“You know you used to bark orders at me, right?” he reminded.

“Not that you listened.” She grinned.

“True enough.” He rubbed his chin, an obvious throwback from his bearded days. “Just tell me why.”

“It goes back to that personal shit,” she offered.

“You and Street?” he prodded.

“Absolutely.”

He nodded. “I can’t say I understand it, but I don’t need to. All I need to see is the peace on your face. When will you see Law? Because I can’t keep this a secret for much longer.”

“Are you guys free for dinner tomorrow?” she asked. “I could tell him then.”

“Are you cooking?”

“It’s been a long time, but yeah. I’ll cook for old friends.”

“Then we’re free.” He grinned.

“Great. All of you at my new flat around seven?”

“It’s a date.” Baine smacked a fist on the arm of his chair, and then rounded his desk. He closed his laptop and stuffed it into a briefcase. Then he hefted the phone. “You sure you’re ready for this? He’s been a beast around here the last few weeks. I’ve threatened to knock him down to size more than once.”

“I’m sure.” She nodded.

“Just clean up the blood before you leave.” Baine lifted the phone from the cradle and depressed a single button. “Street, my office in three.” He grimaced. “Your date can wait for an hour.”

Khani took the punch like a professional. She gagged and hacked and cried on the inside. Outside she didn’t blink. Of course he’d moved on. She hadn’t spoken to him in a month and her last words to him were harsh enough he’d be justified if he chose to ignore her appeal.

Baine replaced the receiver, rounded the desk with his briefcase in tow, and reached for her hand. He placed a kiss on the back of her hand. “For better or worse, I’m glad you’re back, and I’m glad you’re trying.”

“Thank you, Commander.” She managed a smile. “Better or worse, I’m happy to be back.”

He released her hand. “See you tomorrow night, and then Monday morning, Operative Slaughter.” Baine bowed his head, and then headed for the door. He headed right out of it, away from Street’s office.

Khani stood, smoothed her sweaty palms down her black skirt, and then faced the door. The seconds that ticked seemed the longest in her life. Longer than when she searched for Zeke. Longer than the hours spent waiting for daylight on London’s streets.

She waited for calm to descend like it always did before an op. It remained stubbornly out of reach of her trembling fingers.

The door swung wide. “I’ve got shit to…” Two steps inside the door, King’s hazel gaze froze on her.

“King,” she whispered.

He just stared for an interminable minute.

She took the time to study his thick legs and wide shoulders the well-tailored suit barely contained. Her gaze drank in his chin and narrowing hazel gaze. Those speckled eyes swept the room, likely looking for his boss. When they didn’t find anyone else in the office they settled back on her.

“Khani, you’re looking well,” he said with maddening reserve.

“Cut the bull,” she snapped. “I didn’t cross half the world for polite conversation.”

His mouth tightened as though fighting back words, words she wished he’d set free. She probably didn't want to hear all of what he had to say, but it beat his constraint. “Okay,” he said.

Okay? She deserved that and more. After all she’d brought them here. She straightened her shoulders and dragged in a breath. “Have you found someone else?”

“What?” His brows knitted.

“Your date,” she reminded. “You don’t owe me any kind of explanation. But I’d like to know before I continue.”

He rubbed a hand over his close-cropped hair. “Continue what? I’m not especially soft in the head, but I have no idea what’s going on right now.”

“I need to apologize.” Khani took a step forward. King’s large hand flew up, palm out. The back-off gesture stopping her cold.

“My date is with Callie…my dog. I’ve only had her for a week. I haven’t told anyone because I didn’t know if she’d keep me.”

The sentiment broke her heart all over again. He was worried the dog would reject him. Fucking hell, everyone else had…even her. If she hadn’t been in intensive therapy with a top-notch shrink over the last month, she’d hate herself right now. But that wouldn’t do either of them any good.

“She slept on my pillow last night.” He struggled. “I guess that means we’re solid.”

“I’ve always wanted a dog, but when I got older, I didn’t want the responsibility.”

“It’s a pain in the ass, walking at all hours.” His gaze hit his shoes, and then slowly bounced back to hers. “You don’t need to apologize, Khani. You were right. I should have told you and let the chips fall, but…” His throat bobbed on a swallow. “Betrayal is what I do. History proves as much. You need to be with someone who you can place your trust in one hundred percent.”

“That person is you, King.”

An uncharacteristic frown curved his lips. “It’s not.”

“What history?” she begged in a whisper.

“Father Tommy.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“The man who took you in? The priest?”

His head bobbed. “Yep. He took me in and I betrayed him.” The bob turned into a shake. King’s gaze bore into hers. “He killed himself because of my treason.”

“Not because of you,” she matched his shaking head.

“You have no idea.” He gave a caustic laugh.

“King, you do what’s right, no matter the cost.”

“Sometimes the cost should come into play.” He extricated his hands from his pockets and clasped them together. “I’m sorry you came all this way for an apology you didn’t need to give.” The front of his wingtips lifted as though he were about to turn away and leave.

“I’m not just visiting and I didn’t just come for the apology.”

His tips hit the ground. “You moved back to London?” His gaze rounded the room. “Are you taking my job or what?”

“I’m not taking your job,” she explained. “Actually, you’re my boss.”

That got a little slack jaw, at least a second of one. “Why would you take a demotion?”

“It’s my surrender.”

“Why would you surrender? It’s not your way.”

“I want to be under you in some way. I can’t be under you in the bedroom, but I can give you this.”

“You don’t need to give me anything.” Again he held up his hands. He took a step toward the door.

Khani used the point of her stiletto to hook the leg of the chair Baine had sat in and turned it to face King. “Get in the chair.”

His hands fell and his shoulders drew straight. “I thought I was
your
boss?”

“Tomorrow. Now move,” she barked.

His gaze shifted from her to the chair and back several times. “Khani, I—”

She slipped her hand inside her tote and yanked out the black leather strap with a matching black silicone ball at its center. “Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?”

His lids widened. “This one bird told me something like that.”

“The next thing I pull from my bag won’t be so innocuous.”

“You call that mundane?” He pointed at the ball-gag.

“King Street, put your ass in the chair.”

“What about Baine?”

“The only thing you need to worry about is me.”

He regarded her with each step toward the metal-framed chair. When he reached it he turned and sat. The leather creaked under his weight.

The last of Khani’s apprehension fled. Desire and love enveloped her chest. “Open wide.” King’s lips parted slowly. She placed the small ball between his teeth. “Close. This is a training ball. It shouldn’t strain your jaw…too much,” she added with a smirk.

She fastened the buckle at the back of his head and moved to her bag. His wide eyes and protracted lips followed her every move. Next she pulled out four thick leather cuffs. “I can’t have you running out on me.”

Khani knelt in front of him and secured his ankles and then wrists to the chair. King’s nostrils flared. His breaths increased. She placed her hand over his knees.

King’s gaze fused with hers.

“From the first time I laid eyes on you, I knew you were the worst kind of trouble.” She skimmed her palms up his thighs. “You made me embrace a danger I’d never allowed into my personal life. You made me feel, period. Joy. Unparalleled sexual euphoria. Peace. Anger. Frustration. Elation. Heartbreak.”

His eyes mirrored the emotions she listed.

Her hands coasted up his chest. She settled them over his heart.

“But most of all… You made me love you.” He blinked. She continued. “I love you, King Street. I have for so long, but I was scared. I was scared of losing you, of my own vulnerability.” She stood and kissed his forehead, his cheeks, his chin. “I pushed you away because it was easier than looking inside of myself, than letting go of my demons. I’m a work in progress, but I want to work on it with you.”

She leaned back. “What do you say?”

His head canted and his gaze dropped to the gag.

Khani smiled, and then released the buckle.

He studied her tote. “What else do you have in that bag?”

She lightly pinched his nipple, but laughed along with his wine rich chuckle.

King’s mouth brushed her cheek. She turned to face him and their mouths tangled in an intimate embrace. “I love you, Khani. I’ll always want you. I’ll always love you.”

Always? There was one more point she had to make and it hurt her heart even though right now it was the truth and he needed to know it before they moved forward. “I can’t give you babies.” She lifted her chin, stealing her touch, but giving the full force of her gaze. “I raised Zeke. I’m done. I can’t handle that kind of vulnerability again. You deserve babies, beautiful, hazel eyed babies.”

“I want you. Not babies. Who knows what kind of blood runs in my veins? I don’t. Besides, I wouldn’t know what to do with a baby.” He smirked.

“You would make a great papa.” She swallowed.

“Callie might object. I haven’t gotten her outside in time to pee all week. She’s made a mess of my rug.” He scowled. “I hope my dog’s not a deal breaker.”

“I can handle a dog. As long as she’s yours.”

“I can handle no kids. As long as you’re mine.”

Khani laughed so hard it rolled through her belly in gigantic waves. She braced her hands on either side of his face, let her gaze rove over the cuffs at his ankles and wrists, and then centered on his gaze. “You’re mine, King, and I’m about to show you just how much fun it can be.”

P
ristine waters and purified evil
.

T
wo by two, dark-haired beauties vanish only to reappear as hanging, plundered corpses. The Virgin Islands boast diamond-white beaches, lush green mountains, a rich cultural heritage—and a brutal killer.

Three years on the “Field-Dresser” case and Special Agent Nathan Brewer is days away from catching the bastard—if he can convince a certain brunette to trust him. Only the woman is more likely to take a casual stroll on the surface of the sun.

After fleeing her troubles in the United States for the quiet life of a school teacher on the island of Tortola, Madelyn Garrett never imagined she’d be fixated upon by pure evil.

In a fight for her life—with a dwindling number of friends—she must rely on her cunning and Nathan’s skills for survival.