Malcolm entered Snyder's office to find the man at his wet bar pouring a shot of Irish whiskey. His dove gray designer suit hung very nicely from his lean frame. Confidence and power radiated in all directions.
In the corner, standing like a sinister sentinel, Mickey Halter leaned against a decorative table. The vase of flowers perched in the center of the table provided an incongruous backdrop.
Closing the door behind him, Malcolm affected a nonchalant air. “Where's the fire?”
Snyder waved at the seat in front of his desk. When Malcolm sat, he set a double shot on the desk. “Drink up. I think you need it after that show.”
Coldness coiled low in his belly, but he schooled his features and didn't let on that he wasn't completely composed. “What show?”
From the corner, Halter chuckled. “You know there are security cameras everywhere in this building. You sure gave the boys in security one hell of a perk. It was a good performance, though I would have had her kneel at my feet and beg first. It's never a good idea to give a sub what she wants right away. Make her work for it.”
He favored Halter with a moment of distaste. “Don't tell me how to deal with my sub.”
If Snyder had confronted him about having found out Malcolm was a Fed, that would have been easier to take. He didn't like the thought that anyone had watched him with Darcy. While he knew some Doms didn't mind performing part of their discipline in controlled public circumstances and a few didn't mind completing the scene with others watching, Malcolm was like the majority of Doms. He didn't want anyone witnessing his sub in a vulnerable position.
The moment Darcy had walked through that door, wound up so tightly she could snap with a word or a touch, he had forgotten about the cameras. His only thought had been to calm his sub. Damn. He should have stopped by her house that morning, but he'd actually gone all the way home to his real apartment the night before.
That morning he had stopped at his brother's house for a quick breakfast and to catch up. Working undercover meant he sometimes didn't get to see his friends or family for long periods of time.
Snyder took the chair next to Malcolm instead of settling in the one behind his desk. “Gentlemen, that's not the reason I've called us together today.”
Malcolm raised a brow. “What's on your mind, boss?”
“Your behavior leads me to suspect certain things about you, Theo.”
Now that he knew he didn't have to brazen out spanking his girlfriend and getting sucked off on the job, Malcolm let his innate cockiness off the leash. This sounded like a way deeper into the organization. While he didn't like sharing the intimate parts of his life, if it led to a break in the case, he would take it and deal with the fallout later.
“I thought you already knew about my relationship with Darcy.”
Snyder's mouth stretched in a smile that merely indicated the truth of the previous statement. “I thought it would take a much longer time to figure her out. But then you're a much more even-tempered person than her previous Dom. He had issues with anyone implying he should have complete control over her actions. He was a bit of a soft touch who let her run things. While I don't engage in the violent aspects of that kind of relationship, I do believe a man should know how to control his woman.”
Admiration and respect glittered in shades of light brown from Snyder's eyes. Malcolm lifted his shoulders in an uneven manner to show that he agreed, but he didn't necessarily want to discuss the particulars of his own habits.
“I hired Mickey about a year ago because I thought he would appeal to Darcy. He's a little better looking than either you or Scott, and he had that dangerous edge that attracts women like her. She didn't take the bait. If you don't mind, I'd like to know your intentions toward Darcy.”
Malcolm leaned forward. “If you don't mind, I don't see how that's any of your business. You don't look like you're particularly pissed off about the fact that I made her blow me in my office. What do you want, Victor?”
With a chuckle, Snyder sat back in his chair. Halter stepped forward at Malcolm's flippant response, ready to intervene if necessary.
Snyder shook his finger at Malcolm. “Theo, I like you. You're a team player, and when it's my team, that's important to me. Darcy is also important to me. I've been after her for two years.”
Molten anger surged through Malcolm. He struggled to contain it, but he couldn't keep it totally from his expression. He shot in the dark. “If you're telling me to walk away from my sub, it's not going to happen. I don't like when people try to take what's mine.” He threw a warning glance to Halter.
Not at all threatened, Snyder spread his body out in a relaxed pose, as if they were discussing tee times. “Not that way. I have no sexual interest in Darcy. She's a bit big-boned for my tastes. I like a petite woman, preferably blonde, even-tempered, malleable. A woman should be like that for a man, able to conform to meet his demands, don't you think?”
Malcolm matched Snyder's pose in a psychological effort to appear he followed the man's cues. “I don't care for sticks, and I like a little fire. It makes disciplining them more interesting. But I agree that a woman should conform to fit a man's needs. That's one thing I like about having a sub. She lives to do what I want her to do.”
Intuition got him far in this kind of job. Sometimes he didn't have solid reasons to back up his decisions or his actions. He just went with what felt right. Darcy would kill him if she knew he was talking about her like a mindless piece of sexual property, but he needed to show he had the same morals as Snyder to gain the man's trust. He sensed a turning point, and he needed to follow that sharp curve.
Snyder nodded appreciatively. “I'll be frank with you, Stevenson. I want Darcy as the spokesperson for my company. She comes off as friendly and open. Demure. Yet she tenaciously follows through with what she's been told to do. A woman like that, who is also easy on the eyes, is rare.”
Darcy's quiet warning came back to him. Combined with Snyder's derisive comments about the way Yataines handled Darcy, more pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Yataines had been a barrier. Malcolm needed to be a conduit.
“Why haven't you asked her?”
“I have, but she's turned me down. She thinks this company she's trying to build can be successful. I've thrown her a few clients and a lot of jobs, but she'll notice that pool is drying up. No doubt she finds herself with little to do these days.”
Malcolm spread his hands wide. He wasn't about to tell Snyder that Darcy was finding clients by herself, or that he'd hacked into her system to find out that she was in a much better financial situation than anyone would guess. The woman knew how to manage her investments. “You want me to encourage her to take the job?”
Snyder's catlike smile didn't bode well for Darcy. “Should she accept the offer when I extend it next Thursday night, you'll find your little tech business suddenly a hot commodity. Get ready to have to hire a staff.”
Dangling the fulfillment of a dream often proved an effective negotiating tool. Malcolm needed to show his loyalties lay with Snyder, not with Darcy. He sent up a short prayer that she would find understanding when this was all over. “Thursday night?”
“Seven o'clock. You'll bring her to my place for dinner. She knows where I live.” He gestured to the untouched whiskey. “Drink up, my boy. This is just the beginning.”
Malcolm lifted the drink in a silent toast to Snyder and downed it. How in hell could he convince her to accept Snyder's offer when he knew she wanted to stop working for him?
When he left Snyder's office, he headed back downstairs to finish up a few things before he drove to Darcy's house. He had planned to cook for her, but he was no longer in the mood. Snyder's confidence in him was good for the case, but he dreaded what it would do to his relationship with Darcy.
They'd been in a holding pattern for over a month. While she poked at his boundaries, she hadn't exactly pushed through them the way he had expected. Part of him wanted to overpower her, not bring up the ide
a of safe words, and tie her down until she accepted the fact that he liked to have her restrained. Having her bound and helpless, completely at his mercy, appealed to him like nothing else.
But he didn't push her on that front either. Sure, he had done some things. He liked to rationalize not telling her what he really wanted because he wasn't ready to accept the consequences of what that would mean.
If she consented to the level of bondage in which he wanted to engage, it would mean she trusted him with her whole heart and soul. He didn't think she quite trusted him yet, and he didn't blame her. She had to somehow sense, even if it was just on a subconscious level, that he wasn't being completely honest with her. He didn't know how much longer this case would take—realistically it could take months—but he looked forward to the day he could come clean. If she developed that deep level of faith in him now, she would only be that much more devastated when she found out who and what he really was.
And yet he still wanted, needed, to push her.
Things with Snyder had reached a critical turning point. He needed Darcy's cooperation. While he could attempt to manipulate her into doing what he wanted, he would hate himself for it more than she would hate him when the truth was revealed. More than anything, he wanted to come clean so he could ask for her cooperation.
He texted Keith with a time and location. He couldn't willfully break cover without permission.
Later that afternoon, he met Keith in the parking lot of a Thai place Darcy loved. He'd phoned in an order. If things went well, he could sit her down and talk to her after dinner.
Keith's black SUV was parked in the back of the lot with the employee cars. Malcolm pulled in next to him. Keith was in his passenger seat before Malcolm put the car in park.
“What's going on?” Keith didn't remove his dark sunglasses, but he did adjust the seat to accommodate his long legs.
Malcolm led with the good news. He'd found out why Snyder was so interested in Darcy. “Snyder wants Darcy as his company's spokesperson. He thinks she has the perfect face to handle public relations, things like that. She keeps turning him down.”
“Seriously? That seems a little insane. There are tons of people who would take that job in a heartbeat. Why her?”
Malcolm knew how it sounded, but he also knew there was sometimes no accounting for motivation. “I'm looking into how that would benefit him financially, but I'm not finding much. She's an excellent public speaker, and she has a wholesome kind of charm. I can see why he'd want her.”
Keith's smirk indicated the drift of his buddy's thoughts. However Keith wasn't the kind of man who would give voice to those comments in a situation like this. “I'll give you that. There's something about her that's really genuine. While that's a great trait, it's not unique enough to convince a jury that it drove Snyder to kill over it. And it does nothing to help prove fraud, embezzlement, money laundering, or the pump-and-dump schemes.”
“I'm working on those.” Malcolm had found almost nothing, and it frustrated the hell out of him. If he had something, he could keep Darcy completely out of this. “I want permission to tell Darcy who I am and what I'm investigating. I think I can get her to agree to pretend to do what he wants. It'll let me deeper into the company, and I'll be able to access more intel.”
Keith shook his head, the action both a negative answer and an expression of sympathy. “Mal, I'm under specific orders to keep her in the dark. I believe she's innocent, but that's because I have a faith in you that everyone at the Bureau would be questioning if they knew you were having a relationship with an asset. I know what a picky bastard you are, and so I know what she means to you for you to even consider asking for this permission.”
An employee came out of the back door and threw a bag of trash into the large brown bin. Malcolm leaned his head against the seat rest. “If I manipulate her into agreeing, she's going to hate me. I'm going to lose her.”
At silence from his best friend, Malcolm turned to see if his desperate plea had any effect on Keith. His friend and handler sat still and stared out the window, facing away from Malcolm.
Finally Keith sighed. “I'll see what I can do, but don't hold your breath.” He reached for the door handle. “For what it's worth, Mal? If she loves you, she'll get over being pissed off that you lied to her, especially when you bring down Snyder. If your hunch is correct and he is responsible for murdering Yataines, she can't hold it against you forever.”
Keith left, and Malcolm sat in his car, thinking about the situation. He didn't know if she loved him. He knew she liked him a lot. He knew she had a lot of affection for him. But love? He wasn't convinced she'd moved on enough to take that kind of leap with him. After all, she hadn't actually submitted to him yet.
And that bothered the hell out of him.
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* * *
Chapter Twelve
Darcy knew she had a serene smile on her face. Her ass burned pleasantly, and the lips of both her pussy and mouth tingled with occasional reminders of Theo's affection. The pitch meeting had been in downtown Detroit, and it had taken almost three hours to talk the group of three through the benefits of hiring someone to write grants and coordinate their implementation.
She hadn't removed Theo's little gift, though it did force her to sit still when nervousness made her want to fidget. The smallest shift in position made it rub erotically over her clit.
If things went well with this project, she would be able to kiss Snyder Corporation good-bye without any financial regrets. As a matter of fact, she would actually earn more through this project because it would allow her to take on several smaller projects that each stood a good chance of gaining the notice of the city council.
Once she made it to her car, she called Layla to thank her for the referral. Without the good word her friend had put in, the selective members of the Future Beat committee wouldn't have agreed to step outside their normal realm of contacts.
“I talked you up to them a lot.” On the other end of the line, Layla hesitated. “Then I realized that I might have gushed about you too much. I'm glad it went well.”
The parking garage Darcy had used exited right into construction. She inched forward, relieved when a stopped car waved for her to turn into his lane. Lifting her hand in thanks, she did just that. Who said drivers in Michigan were angry and rude?
“They loved my proposal. They signed a contract right there in the room without asking to think about it first. I owe you big-time, girl. You name the favor, and I'm there.” Traffic suddenly broke, and she headed toward the freeway.
Layla laughed. “Funny you should say that. I need help this Saturday putting together care packages for active-service soldiers. I don't suppose you're free?”
Theo hadn't mentioned having plans this Saturday, but he inevitably headed to his apartment to collect mail and pay bills. He often visited with his family. She wondered when he would begin inviting her on his trips. They were coming to that point in their relationship where they either took the plunge and met each other's families, or they began winding down because they weren't compatible.
Her heart ached at the thought of the latter happening.
She forced a laugh. “For you I'll make sure I'm free. Text me your address and the time, and I'll be there.”
It looked like Layla was moving from the “colleague” category to the “personal friend” category. Darcy knew it would have happened sooner and faster if she hadn't been so preoccupied with her problems for the past year. The change, the firming up of their friendship, brought Darcy a sense of happy satisfaction.
When she arrived home, she found her front door open. Since she'd given Theo a key, she didn't think anything was amiss. The coolness of the May afternoon breeze whisked through the screen door and freshened the air within.
Miss Priss sat near the doorway to her office, cleaning her paw. She looked up at Darcy briefly before returning to her business. Darcy let her file-heavy shoulder bag drop
to the floor. The loud thump reminded her that her laptop was in there too. “Theo?”
He appeared at the other end of the hall, in the doorway to the kitchen. The afternoon sun filtered around her to bathe him in light. “Hey, sweetheart. How was the meeting?”
When they were in a scene, he always called her sweetheart when issuing praise or commands. The word washed over her now, an afterglow that brought a flush of remembrance. “Excellent. They signed a contract before I left. That's why I'm home a little late.”
The spicy scent of takeout from their favorite Thai place competed with the spring breeze. He motioned her closer, and her legs obeyed without consulting her brain, not that she minded. She wanted to be in his arms.
He wrapped them around her and pushed her against the door frame. His erection pressed into her abdomen, making her even more conscious of the rope wound around her waist and crotch. “That's fabulous.”
Reaching under her skirt, he loosened the magic knot that let the rope slide down her legs. He gathered it into a ball and threw it onto the cherry table along the slanted wall below the stairs.
He closed his mouth over hers and swept his tongue in, taking over and demanding her surrender in a way he had never attempted. Sure, he'd been forceful and dominating, but he only did that when she expected it. This break from the pattern threw her off center, but she wound her arms around his neck and adjusted.
Theo wasn't having any of that, however. For once he demanded a complete, immediate surrender. He closed his hands around her wrists and pinned them behind her back. This position let him use the small of her back to press her body closer. Even though part of her wanted the vulnerability of this position, the urge to hit him, to fight back with everything she had almost overrode her self-control.
She jerked one hand free and pushed against his chest, breaking the kiss. “Theo, what are you doing?”
His eyes narrowed, and he released her. “Dinner is ready. Let's eat.” He turned his lean, strong back on her and crossed to the counter on the far side of the kitchen.
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