On Her Master's Secret Service (Masters and Mercenaries #4)(41)

He let his mouth hover right above hers, but he wasn’t going to let their first kiss in years happen in this place. Oh, it was going to happen, but not here and not when he was thinking about punishment that wasn’t anywhere close to erotic.

There was a fire in her eyes he hadn’t seen in forever. “Yes, Master.”

He turned on his heels and forced himself to walk away, his brain warring between anger at her being in danger and a savage thrill that he had her where he’d wanted her for years.

In his power. In his bed.





Eve watched Alex stalk up the stairs. Her hands trembled just slightly, but she had to get that under control. She couldn’t give them all away now. She hadn’t seen that much passion from Alex in years, and it scared the crap out of her.

It also got her heart fluttering, and all of her woman parts had responded in a way she’d forgotten was possible. She was standing in the middle of a dangerous operation, and she was a little worried her panties were damp. Damn.

The redhead was in front of her again, reaching for her hands, taking them in her own. “I’m so happy you’re finally here.”

This must be the mysterious Kristen. “Me, too.”

Kristen was good. She covered the shaking of Eve’s hands with her own. Eve gave her a small smile and wondered if Kristen even knew she wasn’t the woman who was supposed to be here.

“Hello.” The man who hadn’t followed the others up stared at her with a charming smile on his face. The minute Alex and the men had gone up the stairs, he’d switched from dark and broody to playboy.

He was gorgeous and far too young for her. She put him at twenty-five tops. Nope. He was a baby, despite his broad shoulders and bedroom eyes.

“Hey, Murdoch, get your ass up here,” Chazz yelled from the top of the stairs.

Murdoch winked at her. “I guess the formal intros can wait. Later, babe.”

He turned and ran up the stairs, and Eve managed not to roll her eyes. He could use a couple of seduction classes.

“Idiot. Come on, Mandy,” Kristen said. “I’ll show you the locker room and we can talk.”

Eve glanced around the space. It had potential, but no one had taken it past very utilitarian. Two women were cleaning, one pushing a mop across the floor and another wiping down tables. The one running a cloth across the table was roughly thirty, with bleached blonde hair and far too much eye makeup. She frowned Eve’s way, her painted lips turning down.

So she wasn’t welcome by everyone.

She followed Kristen along the hallway to a small room.

“That’s the men’s locker room,” Kristen said, pointing to a door on the left. “And this is us.”

She pushed through an opaque glass door and into a very bland locker room. There was a row of old school lockers and a single bench seat.

Kristen flipped her strawberry blonde hair back and sat down on the bench, crossing her very long legs. “It’s nice to meet you, Eve. I’m glad it’s you and not that bratty ho-bag. What’s up with guys? All they see is a bright smile, and they never look past a woman’s tits until they get married and then they wonder why Mary Sunshine got replaced with Sally Yells a Lot.”

Eve glanced around, trying to figure out if this Kristen person was about to get them in serious trouble.

Kristen waved a hand negligently. “No bugs in here. I check every day when I come in. Now the men’s locker room is a different story. I bugged that myself, but don’t warn your husband. We can listen in on him and the blond hottie talking about all sorts of things. Men totally gossip more than you think. We can talk freely in here as long as we’re alone.”

“How do you know who I am? And how do you know I’m not the bratty ho-bag?” Eve asked. She had to hand it to the girl. Her description was dead to rights.

She sat back and looked Eve up and down. “As to how I know you’re not who Alex thought you would be, well, I’m a smart girl. I do my research. You are Dr. Eve St. James, only child to Donald and Jennifer St. James. You were the star of your high school debate team, on the swim team, and the editor of the Madison High Examiner. Busy girl. You graduated from Yale with top honors and everyone was sure you would go on and start a private practice. How upset were your parents when you joined the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit instead?”

She wasn’t sure she liked how much Kristen knew about her. “They were horrified, of course.”

“Of course,” Kristen said with a perfunctory nod. “Your father is one of the most respected therapists in the world.”

And she’d been a profiler, a woman who dealt with the worst of the worst, the types her father didn’t really believe in helping, and she couldn’t make him understand that by catching criminals, she helped out everyone. He’d expected her to fall in line and take over his practice, but the idea of listening to overly privileged men and women complain about their nannies and kids and the horrors of being left off the ma?tre d’s list at the latest overpriced restaurant bored her to tears. She was happier profiling for Ian and having sessions with the people who needed her most. “Yes, he wasn’t thrilled I chose the Bureau.”

“Was he happy that you married Alexander McKay? He wasn’t in your social class. Far from it, actually.”

Eve held a hand up. “Is there a reason my father’s reaction to Alex is relevant to this conversation?”