Taming the Alpha

by Mandy M. Roth

  “Someone used a keycard to get into the precinct. They’re still inside.”

  “What? Can you tell where they are?” He snatched up his discarded clothing, pulling it on in a rush.

  “No, not unless they use it again or I can see security footage.” She tapped away at her laptop, brows drawn down and mouth screwed up in a frown.

  “Get dressed.” Kaspar pulled his cell phone out and blew out a breath as he dialed. He was going to have a lot of explaining to do.

  “9-1-1, what is your emergency?”

  Rosaline stared at him as she dressed in yesterday’s clothes.

  “Hello, this is Kaspar Hrna, I work in the computer forensics lab. Someone has used an illegal keycard to access the precinct. They are still inside. We need to shut the building down and verify everyone. I’m on my way in now, but if security can see who accessed the building at—” He snapped his fingers at Rosaline.

  “Five-eighteen,” she said, glancing at her phone.

  “Five-eighteen, we might be able to figure out who it was.”

  “Uh—yes, sir. Hold on one moment while I get someone from security on the line.”

  Kaspar just hoped it wasn’t too late. Depending on what they wanted, a person could be in and out of the building in a few minutes—exactly how long it had taken him to wake up and figure out what was going on.

  ***

  Rosaline followed after Kaspar, keeping her head down and avoiding eye contact with the officers. They’d burned rubber getting here, and were met at the doors by several gruff looking men. Kaspar had dragged her along with them when she hesitated.

  “Did you find anyone?” Kaspar asked the man with the most gold on his uniform.

  “Three people entered the building at the time you specified. We found two of them.” The man opened a door and they stepped into what must be the heart of security for the building. He gestured at a computer monitor. “This is the third one.”

  A younger officer clicked play, and they watched a man in a suit who was holding a set of files, swipe a badge and step into the halls.

  “Where did he go?” Kaspar asked.

  “That’s the part that worries me.” The man gestured to the officer, who flipped the footage to a hallway Rosaline recognized. It was the hall on the other side of the door. There was a camera pointed straight at it. The time stamp read just before their mystery guest entered, and they watched as the time crept on—and the door never opened.

  “They replaced the footage. It’s on a loop. I bet if we watch it for a while you’ll see where it jumps,” she said.

  “She’s right,” the officer said.

  “How do we know where he is? Or if he’s still here?”

  Rosaline turned toward Kaspar. “Where did they go before?”

  “Evidence. Records.” Kaspar frowned.

  “They’re looking for something. What?” She turned toward the officer, wanting so badly to push him aside and just do the job herself. “Can you look up who checked things out recently? Evidence, files, whatever people check out?”

  “I can call,” the officer said.

  She shook her head. There wasn’t time. “Move.”

  Rosaline pushed the officer out of his chair and plopped down. It took her a matter of seconds to barge through the back door. Instead of looking at a certain server or department, she did a search on data entered.

  “What is she doing?” someone muttered.

  “Just let her work,” Kaspar replied.

  “Okay, do these names sound familiar—James Pelosi?” Rosaline asked.

  “Patrol,” the young officer replied.

  “Keith Nelson?”

  “Evidence clerk,” the older man replied.

  “Oliver Peters?”

  “Detective,” the young officer replied.

  “Simon—”

  “No, Oliver retired,” the older man replied. “He retired six weeks ago.”

  “Someone just used his card to check out evidence.” Rosaline’s blood pumped as she spun, looking at the monitors. “There. The room is empty.”

  “Get someone there now.” The older man stormed to the door. “Stay here. Watch the monitors.”

  Stay? Here? When the excitement was somewhere else?

  Well, there was another job to do. To figure out who and where the people hijacking the security cameras were.

  ***

  Four days later…

  Rosaline restacked the same pile of papers for the fifth—or tenth—time. Despite her promise to her assistant, she hadn’t left for the evening. In fact, she’d all but burrowed in, with no intention at all of leaving tonight.

  She was supposed to be part of a performance demo tonight at Fletcher’s, but she’d begun to dread it and begged out of it at the last minute. Her play bag remained stuffed in the bottom of her coat closet in the corner of her office along with her cell phone.

  A restlessness had settled around her since she’d gone home Monday with a promise to call Kaspar. She’d never made that call.

  She wanted to talk to him, but she also wanted space and time to think. And yet, she’d spent the whole week spinning in circles. Kaspar had shown her that she could like pain. She’d been disappointed when the soreness abated, and found herself prodding the lingering marks to make them last. Of course, she could have answered her phone any number of times Kaspar called her, but she’d rejected each call, despite the nearly overpowering desire to talk to him.

  Last weekend she’d wanted to play and fuck. That was it. Instead, she’d faced her fear and opened herself up to another person in a way she hadn’t thought she was ready for. She wasn’t just attracted to Kaspar, she liked him. They’d sat up late, talking for hours about hardware, cartoons, and their crazy, big families. He’d made her kolaches at two in the morning, and laughed at her when she tried and failed to help.

  It was stupid, and maybe wrong, but she wanted to curl up in those memories and live in them. Kaspar thought he was obsessed with her, well, she was quickly becoming an expert in everything about him. He wasn’t kidding when he said he came from a small town. She’d spent a ridiculous amount of time scrolling through the digitized files of old newspapers, searching for mentions of him in the football recaps and later, in the coverage of the disaster that had wrecked his small town.

  Rosaline wasn’t ready to love again. Or was she scared of opening herself up to someone again? Kaspar was so very different than Andy.

  Andy was a social butterfly. Kaspar probably hung out in dark corners at parties—if he went at all. Andy liked to be the center of attention. Kaspar shunned the spotlight. Andy wanted people to like him. Kaspar didn’t care for anyone’s opinion except his family’s. Andy had never lifted a finger to help out, unless it benefited him. Kaspar was active in several charities, not to mention all the time he’d taken off to help his family.

  Had Andy ever really known her? Had their relationship ever gone past the surface level? She felt more of a connection with Kaspar than she ever had with Andy, and that scared her. Especially when she considered how long they’d been together, and that she’d considered the next logical step for them was to get married. What a mistake that might have been. This led her to wonder if jumping into the relationship boat, if wanting to be with Kaspar, was the best thing for her.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  A figure darkened the opaque glass door to her office.

  Rosaline frowned. As far as she knew, everyone had left for the weekend. Who was left? She dropped into her desk chair and cleared her monitors.

  “Come in,” she said.

  The door swung open. Her mouth dried up, and her heart nearly stopped.

  Kaspar let the door swing shut behind him. His hands were shoved into his pockets, his hair was damp, probably from the evening rain, and once again he wore all black, from the leather jacket to the knit shirt and jeans.

  “What are you doing here?” She grabbed a stack of papers and shuffled them together to give herself som
ething to do.

  Shit. Shit. Shit. Why didn’t I just blow him off?

  “Checking on you. Fletcher was worried.” His gruff voice scraped across her senses, and damn her if she didn’t want to sigh and slump in her chair.

  “Fletcher was worried? Why?” She hadn’t done anything.

  “You didn’t show up tonight.”

  She put the papers down and stared at Kaspar, confused. “I told him I wasn’t coming.”

  “He said that was unusual and asked me to check on you.” Kaspar shrugged. “Here I am.”

  He was here.

  In her office.

  Wait a minute…

  “How did you get in here?” Accessing their floor meant two keycard checks and a pass code to enter the suite.

  Once more Kaspar shrugged.

  Rosaline shoved to her feet and jabbed a finger at him. “You hacked us! You’re a cop. You’re not supposed to do that.”

  “No, I’m not a cop.” He pulled something out of his pocket and tossed it on her desk. “A list of weaknesses. Someone’s been picking away at your security.”

  She snatched up the bundle. He’d made a very good fake keycard, complete with the seal and probably a fake employee number. It was the wrong color—white instead of cream—and the mission statement wasn’t under the logo, otherwise, it was perfect. The list she glanced over, noting the same things she’d flagged and handed over to her employees to fix.

  “Why didn’t you go tonight?” Kaspar asked, his voice quiet, softer. Was that curiosity or duty?

  Because I had no desire to be in front of people.

  Because as much as I like Remy, I didn’t want to perform for anyone. At all.

  Because I just wanted to be with you.

  “I didn’t feel like it.” She turned toward the windows and leaned against the desk. “I think you were right. I’ve got a lot of stuff to figure out before I get back into playing again. I just didn’t feel it tonight.”

  “What are you going to do about it?” He stood across the desk from her now, those dark eyes of his seeing too deep.

  She wrapped her arms around herself to stave off the chill of standing alone. “I don’t know.”

  Rosaline had lost a part of herself to Andy, but maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. She’d matured, grown into herself a bit more, and maybe that was the difference. She didn’t need the crowds or the performance anymore. She just needed one person, and that need scared her.

  ***

  Kaspar studied Rosaline’s profile, the arch of her brow, the circles under her eyes, and the pinched way she held her mouth. She was closed off from him, her get the fuck away flag flying high.

  “What happened with the old detective?” she asked.

  The hacker group. Right.

  “The guy we caught in evidence was a convicted felon. He works for this group that buys and sells intelligence. They’ve been making a killing off what they can get from evidence and our servers. We got a bunch of their gang, but not all of them. Someone’s hiding the core group, but we’ll find them.”

  “Do you need any assistance?” Rosaline had made it clear that she would make her firm available to them at no cost.

  “Not yet. The FBI might take it away from us anyway.”

  “Damn.”

  He shrugged. “They arrested the cop killers. That’s what I cared most about.”

  “I’m glad, then.”

  Kaspar frowned. He hadn’t come here to talk about the case or work or really even Fletcher’s concerns. Kaspar had just happened to be nearby when Fletcher voiced his concerns to his girlfriend. Offering to check on her had been more self-serving than anything else. It gave him a non-stalkerish reason to use the keycard he’d made the moment he realized she wasn’t going to return his calls.

  He’d thought he could let her go, that in time he’d realize it was for the best. But his every waking moment had centered on her. What was she doing? Did she regret what they’d done? Did she hate him? Or was there another reason for her to avoid him?

  She didn’t hate him. If she did, he doubted she’d have let him stand in her office for so long. Her pointed refusal to look at him though, was that a sign of something else?

  He edged slowly around her desk until he stood in front of her and she couldn’t avoid him any longer.

  “Your friends are worried about you. I’m worried about you,” he said.

  “Why? I didn’t want to go to a party. That’s it. Not a big deal.”

  Then why did she hug herself tighter?

  “Why didn’t you return my phone calls?”

  “I was busy.”

  “All week?”

  “I run a company.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Excuse me?” Her feigned act of outrage was cute, but only skin deep.

  “You shut me out. Why? I don’t know. Then you don’t go to a party Fletcher said you were excited about for weeks—because you want to be a homebody?” He shook his head. “I don’t believe it.”

  “I just…” She turned toward the wall and dropped her arms. “I didn’t want to be there.”

  “Why?”

  “Why do you care?” she snapped.

  “Because we played together. Because I’m concerned about you. Because I actually like you, and I want to know you’re okay.”

  “I am…I just…I don’t know. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to play with Remy. I didn’t want to be around a lot of people. Is that not okay?”

  “It’s fine.” But after everything else, he needed more. He needed to know how she was doing, what she was thinking, if she thought of him at all.

  “I’m not ready,” she said quietly.

  “I think you are. I think you’re incredibly strong, and you can do just about anything you set your mind to.”

  “Just about?” She chuckled and glanced at him.

  Of course she’d take that as a challenge. It was the spunk he liked.

  “What if we made a deal? A new one?”

  “What kind of deal?” She tilted her head, engaged and interested now.

  He gathered his failing courage. This was a horrible idea. It was cheesy and stupid. There was no way she’d take him seriously, but he was here.

  “Let me show you what a good Dom can be like. You can set the rules, pick the toys, whatever makes you feel comfortable.” So long as you pick me, too. He’d never felt more pathetic in his life. If a woman didn’t want him, he’d always moved on, but he had it bad for her. Bad enough he’d break into her office just to see her.

  Rosaline stared at him, her eyes growing wide. Well, at least he had shock value on his side. He doubted she’d expected that.

  Kaspar edged closer. She remained rooted to the spot, completely speechless. He bumped her chin with his knuckles, tipping her face up.

  “You should probably tell me to leave,” he said.

  “What? Why?”

  “I think I’ve given you ample proof that I’m enough of a stalker to be concerned about.”

  She shook her head. “I broke into your office first.”

  “I had a whole file of pictures of you.”

  “Those weren’t even the good ones. I don’t think they count. I hacked your Facebook account to find out what your favorite food was.”

  “Is that how you figured it out?”

  “Yup. And you reuse passwords. That’s not smart.”

  “I know, but I don’t reuse them for important stuff.”

  “Your email isn’t important?”

  “You read my email?” The real question was—which email?

  “I didn’t read it. I just wanted to see how you organized your inbox. Besides, I emailed your high school and asked for a copy of your senior yearbook.”

  “Why?”

  “Your ass in football pants.”

  Her answer caught him by surprise, and he laughed. Football pants? Seriously? If he’d known that was what it took he could have just gone and bought a pair at a sports sto
re.

  Rosaline wrapped her arms around him, resting her cheek against his shoulder and squeezed. His heart pounded painfully against his ribs. She was such a little thing, and yet she packed enough of a punch to leave him on his ass.

  “Why didn’t you want to go to Fletcher’s?” It had to be more complicated than she just didn’t feel like it. He didn’t buy it for an instant.

  She sighed, her face still buried against his chest. “I’m not lying when I say I didn’t feel like going. I love my friends, they’ve been great to me, but…I didn’t want to go by myself.”

  “Do you want me to go with you?”

  “You don’t want to go.”

  “No, but if that’s what you want, I would go.”

  She peered up at him. “If I tell you one more time I don’t want to go, will you believe me? I swear on my hard drive I don’t want to go. I’d…I’d really rather be with you.”

  “I’m yours, body, soul, and amazing stalking ability.”

  “Oh, I think I can give you a run for your money.”

  He cupped her cheek, the warmth of her seeping into his bones. “What do you say then? Will you let me show you what a good Dom can be like?”

  “I have to warn you…I’m a serial monogamist, and I think I might obsess more than you do. You should know that.”

  “I wasn’t trying to push you into a relationship. I understand you’ve been through a lot.”

  “And I only do relationships. You said I get to set the rules. That’s my rule.”

  Kaspar opened and closed his mouth. Talk about a firecracker. “I’m the jealous type. You aren’t allowed to flirt with anyone else.”

  “There’s no playing with anyone except me.”

  “I want to know if you’re wearing panties or not.”

  Rosaline stared at him, her jaw slack. “Seriously?”

  “Hey, you told a guy you don’t wear panties unless you have to.”

  She leaned over her keyboard and tapped out a few commands. The door clicked and a beep echoed across the room. She glanced over her shoulder, hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her skirt and pushed it down, off her hips. The dark blue blouse fell to just past her hips, hiding nothing of her bare mound.