Part 11 (1/2)

”I'm not insecure,” Phoebe protested, shaking her head and pulling her chin out of his grasp. ”That's not the type of person I am. I can't explain my apprehension, but it has nothing to do with insecurity.”

”Let me reiterate,” Lach replied, doing his best to get her to see this from his point of view, although knowing she had a pride about her that allowed her to only see things in black and white. ”What you experienced last night was subs.p.a.ce. It isn't unusual when a submissive feels what is called a subdrop. Even Dominants can experience it. When you become overcome with a foreboding emotion and can't put your finger on why, contact me. I will do the same.”

Lach could see with his claim that Phoebe's tension eased and her pink lips formed a sensual smile that had him thinking of other things she could be doing with that mouth of hers. Again, if he didn't feed them and get them on their way, they'd never leave this apartment.

”Omelets are about ready. Could you get the plates?”

”Yes.” Phoebe bit her lip as if she were going to say something else. Would it have been Lach's t.i.tle for when they were conducting a scene? He liked that she was eager and ready. So was he and he ended up turning to the stove so that he could adjust the denim over his hardened c.o.c.k. ”Did you get rea.s.signed to another case yet?”

Lach slid the spatula underneath her omelet and placed it on the plate she had in her hand. She held up the other dish and he did the same with his omelet, which had some additional spices to his particular taste. He was glad that she brought up something other than this newfound relations.h.i.+p they'd begun. The last time they'd gotten ready to leave after having s.e.x hadn't gone so well. He was determined that wouldn't happen again.

”Yes.” Lach waited until Phoebe had placed both plates onto the counter and took her place on one of the stools. He slid his dish back toward him on the other side, more comfortable standing and facing her. ”As a matter of fact, I have a meeting tomorrow morning at zero eight hundred. Today I'm scheduled to help the team go over some information regarding a male subject that we're looking for.”

”Is he in trouble?”

”You could say that,” Lach answered and then took a bite of his omelet. ”You have tight security, so I'm not too worried. I would like you to keep an eye out for a male who is in his mid-forties, European in his manner and speech. Black hair. He goes by the name of Ryland. His tastes run on the rather higher end, so he'd easily be able to fit into your social circles. If you notice someone that fits that description, point him out to any member of your detail. They have photos of the suspect and they're aware of the threat. I'll also bring a picture by so that you know exactly who to look for.”

”I'll try not to take that as an insult.” Phoebe smiled over the rim of her mug, indicating that she was going to have fun with his statement and he knew exactly which one. She was referring to Ryland's social preferences. ”I'm rather confused that you lump me and my family in with the higher end of society like we're some kind of sn.o.bs. You realize that my parents started out with nothing and that they ingrained a strong work ethic in both my sister and me. Regardless, it seems that you have a particular high end taste in coffee and food.”

”Hmmm,” Lach halfway conceded, letting her gain a point in her favor for acute observation. ”My palate that you are referring to comes from having parents who are wine tasters by choice and vineyard owners driven by pa.s.sion. We learned at an early age to tell by a sip of wine not only what country the nectar originated in, but also what region and which various grape varieties were blended together to pollinate the flower that was to become the wine grape. We were also taught to recognize the peak time during veraison of the fruit, in the development of the tannins and phenolics for harvest, picked too early or too late. You're left with rocket fuel after fermentation. So it's not simply what you have a taste for, but when is the best time to appreciate the flavor of the product of your labors.”

”That would explain it,” Phoebe commented with a raised eyebrow as she placed her cup back down on the granite and picked up her fork. He had obviously belabored his point, her smirk showing that much. She was being a smarta.s.s, but he let it go. Lach was pleased to see that over the last two days of eating properly that she'd gotten her glow back. ”Dad, Paul, and their entourage are off to another state, but should be back early next week.”

”You're not going?” Lach was surprised, since he knew it had been on her docket.

”There's a donor who wanted to discuss some things with me in person, so I rearranged my schedule to meet with her around ten o'clock today.” Phoebe finished off her omelet and then wiped her mouth with a napkin that he'd just handed her. ”I've had appointments with this woman before and she tends to be a bit of a talker, so I'm sure we'll end up going to lunch at Manny's Steakhouse.”

”Well, considering you're going to one of the finest establishments in the Twin Cities, I guess I don't need to worry about you not eating at lunch.” Lach cleared the plates, rinsed them, and put them into her dishwasher. Phoebe watched him the entire time, her blue eyes turning to the dark sapphire color he loved. If she kept staring at him that way, she sure as h.e.l.l wouldn't be having meetings today. ”Are you free for dinner?”

”Dinner?” Phoebe picked up her mug and watched him closely as he finished wiping down the counter. ”I was hoping you were going to ask me if I was free for the entire night.”

”Really?” Lach asked, laughing at the way she'd tried to take control of the day. He didn't have it in him to play games, and honestly, he didn't want to. This thing between them was becoming too important. ”As a matter of fact, that was my next question. Oh, and don't worry about picking out a corset. I'll have one with me when I arrive here tonight.”

”You're buying me a corset?” Surprise laced Phoebe's tone, yet he also caught the pleased smile as she hopped off of the stool. ”I've never had anyone buy me something of that nature before.”

”You'll experience a lot of firsts with me.” Lach waited until she'd come around the counter and into the heart of the kitchen to broach a subject that he wasn't so sure what her answer to would be. It was going to be interesting to watch her reaction to something so personal. ”I do have a question for you.”

”And what would that be, Mr. McKinnon?” Phoebe ran her hands up and around his leather holster that he'd secured onto his chest after getting dressed. ”I'm sure I have an answer.”

”A friend of mine is having a birthday party for his one year old son. Jax and Emily had postponed it for a couple of weeks so that we could make the transition over to the Secret Service agents.” Lach was pleased to see that Phoebe was a little speechless, her pretty pink lips parted ever so slightly. Keeping her off guard and making her life spontaneous was all part of his job. ”It's this Sat.u.r.day at one o'clock. I was wondering if you'd like to join me.”

”Is this the same man who was working with you on finding out who was threatening my father?” Phoebe had slid her fingers under the leather straps and held them tight, as if to anchor herself. Lach couldn't help but notice she'd evaded answering by asking a question herself. ”Are they going to mind you bringing a guest, especially one that has an armed agent following her every move?”

”To answer your first question, yes, Jax helped with the investigation. Two, they won't mind and I will probably get an endless supply of ribbing by bringing you, but it's worth it. And to reply to the question you didn't ask, my team members don't think less of you because your family is struggling with the issues of your father's career. Your sister's conduct won't be brought up either.”

Phoebe didn't reply right away, but Lach could clearly see that she was digesting what he'd said. He reminded himself that she was raised differently and that opinions mattered to her, although only up to a point. It was the end result that was vital and she would only know the outcome of this meet and greet if she were to go with him. He didn't doubt that Lauren, Emily, Elle, Jessie and Taryn would make her feel like part of the group.

”Yes, I would be honored to go with you.” Phoebe stood on her tiptoes and wrapped one hand around Lach's neck, pulling him toward her. He felt her fingers slip into his hair at the same time her tongue traced his bottom lip. Her need for some control was evident but his inner dominance warred against it and won when he grabbed both of her wrists and held them behind her. He was rewarded with a gasp and the s.h.i.+ft in color of her eyes. ”Sir?”

”Very good,” Lach murmured against her lips, taking pleasure that Phoebe took his cue of when he placed her in the submissive role. ”After your meeting today, I want a list of soft and hard limits. Things that you would like to experience, things that you are on the fence of, and of course...those things that you would absolutely not consider, come h.e.l.l or high water.”

”Yes, Sir.”

Phoebe had the audacity to actually bite his lower lip, and although it had been done gently, Lach had no doubt she'd done it to elicit a reaction. Needing to see how she responded to his feedback to her baiting, he used her wrists to pull her closer to him and gave a quick but firm tap on her a.s.s. Her quick inhalation and the whip of her head to connect their gazes was all the answer he needed.

”Until tonight.”

Chapter Twenty.

As Phoebe had spent the last hour and a half talking to Ms. Adler, she was reminded why she hated this part of her job with the Crescent Foundation. There was nothing satisfying in negotiating over money when her time could be spent helping others in the ways that mattered. She had to remind herself almost every five minutes that this contribution to her father's campaign would give her dad the b.u.mp he needed. It didn't help that every other second she was thinking of what to put on the list Lach had requested. After last night, there were numerous things she'd like to put on her wish list.

”Would you like to go to lunch, dear?”

”Yes, of course,” Phoebe answered, knowing all along how this meeting would end. ”Please let me use the ladies' room to powder my nose and then I'll be ready.”

Ms. Adler gave a smile of delight as she sat in front of Phoebe's father's desk. She'd used his office for privacy and although the meeting had gone longer than she expected, lunch was always a requirement with Ms. Adler. Not really needing to use the restroom, Phoebe rose from her dad's chair and excused herself from the office. Closing the door behind her, she sighed in relief and started to walk down the short hallway when Stewart called out to her.

”Ms. Dunaway?”

”Yes, Stewart?” Phoebe asked, turning around and not all that unhappy with the intrusion. It would delay Ms. Adler by a few more minutes, but that was perfectly fine by Phoebe. ”Is everything okay?”

”Yes, the phone calls are particularly productive today.” Stewart adjusted his tie, which was never on quite straight anyway, but Phoebe was coming to like the young man. She'd thought in the beginning that he was just here to please his father, and honestly, be a slacker. He had proved his dedication and work ethic. ”I wanted you to know I spoke with Hannah.”

”How is she?”

”She'd gone out of town to visit one of her aunts, but she's doing fine.” The way Stewart s.h.i.+fted his body gave away his need to ask a question. Phoebe waited silently, mentally smiling when he continued. She could see why Lach used that technique and was thinking of adopting it herself. ”Hannah understands why she can't work the campaign and is taking your advice about concentrating on her studies. She's still hoping to be in politics, regardless of her father's behavior, and was wondering if you would write a letter of recommendation for her.”

”Hannah knows that she needs to stay away from the larger campaigns, right? If she volunteers for a smaller run, for say mayor, she can eventually work her way up. It will be a tough haul and she'll undoubtedly be questioned time and again, but if she's willing to put in the effort...then yes, I will write her a recommendation.”

”Thank you,” Stewart said in relief. ”I'll let her know and it will definitely make her day.”

Phoebe watched as he walked back into the bullpen, knowing full well that Stewart had a thing for Hannah. The boy's father was certainly not going to be happy with that turn of events, especially considering that he was a U.S. Senator himself. Having grown up in this life, she knew full well what happened when either she or her sister brought home someone that had the potential of damaging the Dunaway name. She hoped for Stewart's sake that he was prepared for the same reaction.

Glancing at the office door, Phoebe smothered another sigh, this one in resignation. Lunch would probably go on for two hours and then she had five hours of work that she'd love to get done in three. Lach was bringing her home a gift in the form of a corset and she couldn't wait to see what style, fabric, and color that he chose. As she closed the restroom door behind her, she wondered if Ms. Alder would notice her lack of attention. She had no doubt that her mind would be on the lists that she was supposed to be creating.

Lach rubbed his eyes, absolutely hating this part of the job. At least Taryn and Ethan were out of the office, allowing someone else to make the coffee. Kevin, Jax, and Connor had joined him at the conference table about an hour prior. The intelligence they were going over had been written by innocuous a.n.a.lysts in one government agency or another, although he wasn't able to determine based on its contents if the reports were favors owed to Crest or if the government was actually trying to locate Ryland on their own. The man did escape from federal prison, but according to the names at the bottom of these doc.u.ments, the search went higher up than even Lach would have considered applicable.

Instead of focusing on the official reports, Lach had decided to go back through Yvette Capre's past. Everyone knew that she was an integral part of the investigation, but with the woman only existing on paper for ten years, it was difficult to uncover her real ident.i.ty. The only one true aspect that they were aware of was that Yvette Capre was related to Taryn. The questions of how, why, and to what end this actually meant for Ryland were abundant.

”Pizza's here,” Jessie announced, carrying in three boxes from Pizza Luce, the local favorite pizza place. It didn't take long for them to relieve her of the cardboard cartons. ”Use paper plates. I don't want to have to clean up the d.a.m.n mess.”