Page 33

A fter turning into the driveway of the estate, Darius kept going and pulled into the open garage and hit the remote to shut the overhead door.

The press was back at the gate in full force.

He hadn’t wanted to return by boat, giving away their ruse in case they needed to use that route again.

Let the damn bottom feeders stew and wonder about how they’d been tricked.

Escorting Tahira into the attached kitchen, he nodded when she said she was going to change out of the dress pants and blouse she’d worn to her appointment.

Darius forced himself not to imagine her peeling off her clothes until she was standing there in just her bra and panties—which in his mind were baby pink and lacy.

Damn it—so much for pushing down that thought because it was now front and center.

He had to think of something else quickly before he had a raging hard-on.

“Hey, how’d it go?”

Relief coursed through Darius when Cain walked into the room. Work. Yes. Work. No baby pink lace over soft, bronzed skin. Work, work, work. Focus.

Clearing his throat, Darius sat on one of the stools at the island in the middle of the huge kitchen, which could be part of a five-star restaurant. “Good, I guess. Tahira liked Trudy, and she’s got appointments set up to go back.”

As far as his teammates, the Deimos agents, and the royal guards knew, Tahira was having nightmares from just the kidnapping and her time in captivity.

Neither Lindsey nor any of the men from Trident had questioned Darius further when he’d said he’d rescued Tahira from Secada before anything could happen to her.

None of them had given him any indication they thought he’d glossed over the truth.

“How was the parade?” he asked.

Cain snorted. “All that was missing were the bagpipes, fifty-foot balloons, and the ticker tape.”

“Any idea what they know and how they found out?”

Leaning on his hands against the island, the team leader bent at the waist and stretched his back.

“Well, they know about the kidnapping, but how they know is the question. Tried interrogating a few, but they just waived their First Amendment rights in our faces, citing anonymous and confidential sources.” He stood straight again and shrugged.

“Could’ve been one of the other captives, one of the Jamaican cops—although I don’t think it was them since the press had details the cops didn’t know, like knowing about Argentina.

Hell, it could even be a leak in the palace.

Who knows? While it came as a surprise, they didn’t have anything that wasn’t going to be in the press release.

Maybe one of what’s-his-name’s public relations people let it slip. ”

That was a possibility Darius hadn’t thought of.

Sebak had no reason to pull something like this—his ass would’ve been fired, and Darius suspected the man liked his position as right-hand man to the king too much to do something to jeopardize it.

But someone on his staff could have easily been bribed.

“Anyway,” Cain continued, “Bastide called and updated Amar, and the official release will go out first thing in the morning, Timasur time.”

“Good. Hopefully, we’ll be able to keep the rest of it under wraps.”

The other man paused and then tilted his head. “You’re really going through with this, huh?”

Darius didn’t have to ask what Cain meant by that, and he tried to sound convincing in his response. “Yeah, I’m getting married. Go figure. I’d always thought Skipper or Romeo would be the first from Omega to fall.”

“Alpha sure fell like dominoes.” Cain frowned.

“I hope this isn’t the beginning of a trend for Omega, because I have no intention of taking that plunge any time soon.

Someday, maybe, if the right woman comes along, but I’m starting to think fate doesn’t want me to go down that road.

Being a Secret Service agent and now a black-ops one doesn’t exactly make for an easy marriage with ‘Hi, honey, I’m home. What’s for dinner?’”

“You never came close to having a wife, two point four kids, and a white picket fence?” Darius asked.

The other man shook his head. “Nada. Hell, the longest relationship I’ve had since graduating college and joining the Secret Service was three months, and that’d been with a sub I’d collared with a contract. She was moving to Paris, and we knew going into it there was an end date.”

Cain had been in the lifestyle for years after being on the detail of someone who’d been in it and figured out he was a Dom after going to several clubs while playing bodyguard.

That was all Cain had told Darius, keeping his charge’s name out of it.

Privacy and secrecy were apparently big things in the BDSM community, and most members kept their mouths shut about who and what they saw in clubs.

“Doesn’t that feel weird, having a contract with an end date with someone you’re dating?”

“In the beginning it did, but once you get used to the fact there are no false expectations beyond the end date, it works out.”

“What if a Dom or a sub falls in love with the other and doesn’t want an end date?”

Cain’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you suddenly asking about the lifestyle? I thought you weren’t interested.”

Busted . If he were honest with himself, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Ian’s offer to train him, but he still wasn’t convinced the lifestyle would help Tahira get over the trauma of her rape.

He shrugged. “I didn’t think I was, but after hearing about it so much, I’m just curious, I guess.

Isn’t the point of starting a relationship with someone to see if you’re compatible or not before taking it to the next step?

You ask her out on a date. You figure out what you do and don’t have in common and if there’s any chemistry between you, then you decide if you want a second and third date.

If you do, you probably eventually end up in bed together.

As the relationship reaches each phase, you have to decide if you want to take it to the next one or end it, right? ”

“But the lifestyle takes a lot of the guessing out of that equation,” Cain said.

“Everything is negotiated up front. There are very few surprises. If you wind up attracted to a submissive, in more than just a D/s way, and want to see where it goes, then you discuss it. There’re no head games or wondering what the other person is thinking.

Open, honest communication is key. Yeah, there’s the occasional stalker type out there or someone who’s in the lifestyle for all the wrong reasons, but with experience, you learn to spot and avoid them.

And there are plenty of stalkers outside the lifestyle too. ”

Footsteps in the hallway told them someone was about to enter the kitchen seconds before Tahira appeared.

She’d changed into a pair of knee-length yoga pants and a matching tank top.

The makeup she’d been wearing earlier had been cleaned off.

While the bruises on her arms, neck, and face were visible, she’d forgone her usual running shorts which would have shown the bruises on her thighs.

Darius couldn’t keep his gaze away from all the gloriously deep bronze skin of her legs, arms, and shoulders.

Her hair was up in a ponytail again, and he wanted to wrap the long strands around his wrist and pull her to him.

His cock twitched in his khakis. Damn, she was fucking gorgeous, becoming more so each time he saw her.

Stepping over to the refrigerator, she opened the door and retrieved a bottle of water. Then she hesitated before looking over her shoulder. “I am going to work out on the treadmill. Anyone want to join me?”

The mansion had a well-equipped gym in one of its many large rooms, complete with a sauna.

While the question had been addressed to both of them, her gaze had held Darius’s.

Cain glanced between the two of them, then shook his head with a small smirk.

“I’ll pass, Your Highness—I’m still on duty.

But I’m sure your fiancé would be more than happy to join you in getting all hot and sweaty. ”

As his teammate strode out the door with a chuckle, Darius fought the urge to flip him the bird and call him an asshole.

It clearly hadn’t escaped Cain’s notice there was electricity arcing through the air between the engaged couple.

Well, that’s the way it needed to look to convince everyone this engagement was on the up and up.

What the hell was happening, Darius wondered.

He’d never had such a feeling of awareness with any woman he’d dated than what he felt when he was in the same room as Tahira.

Maybe Ian and Cain were right, and parts of the lifestyle would do both Tahira and Darius some good.

They could learn how to help her heal, maybe give each other some mutual pleasure, and have a contract that had an end date—the day they announced they were getting divorced.

They’d sit down and negotiate everything and renegotiate as needed.

No exceptions beyond what they’d agreed upon.

Sex could be on or off the table, although he would prefer it on.

And, damn it, now he had an image of her laying on the island in front of him, beautifully naked and spread wide while his tongue and fingers did wickedly delicious things to her pussy.

“Darius?”

He realized he’d been staring at Tahira in silence and forced himself to focus. And, damn it, he had to remember she was a rape victim. She probably didn’t even want to have sex with him or anyone else for that matter. The woman was still healing, physically and emotionally.

Right now, she was holding up a second bottle of water and waving it at him. Licking his lips and swallowing hard, he stood, glad the island hid his semi hard-on from her, as he nodded. “Head to the gym. I’ll get changed and meet you there.”

The smile that spread across her face was almost blinding, and it stirred something within him. He’d pleased her and that simple fact made him feel ten-feet tall. Now Darius just had to figure out how to run on the treadmill next to her without coming in his fucking shorts.