Another Second Chance Page 3

  Kent West stepped into the room, his gaze moving from his brother to her and then moving to the other two men standing to the side. He shook his head and sighed.

  “Fucking hell, I’m sorry, Colbie. I was hoping to get here before Kyle pissed you off. He has all the finesse of a runaway Mack truck.”

  “I’ve simply explained the facts. She’s being unreasonable. I think we should do a DNA test, she and Tobi must be related. It’s probably distant, but there are too many similarities to be coincidental.”

  “Thank you, Kyle. That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me in a long time.” Colbie hoped her fake sweet tone gave him a cavity or two. Asshat.

  “Not helpful, little spitfire.” Liam’s quiet admonishment made her feel about two inches tall. She understood Kyle was just trying to help, but she was damned tired of people deciding what was best for her and then issuing edicts she was expected to follow. “Take a deep breath.” She did so before she realized she’d just followed another order. Her inner child stomped her foot in frustration. Dammit. Liam stepped in front of her and tipped her chin up with his fingers until she met his gaze.

  “Are you arguing because you think Kyle is wrong? Or are you reacting to the way the information was presented?”

  Damn and double damn. She’d hoped no one would make that connection, but she shouldn’t have expected any grace when she was standing in a room full of Dominants. Closing her eyes, Colbie tried to hold back her frustration and the tears that usually accompanied it. It was a vicious cycle… frustration led to tears which amped up her frustration even more, making her cry harder. Biting the inside of her cheeks to hold back the tidal wave of emotion, Colbie almost screamed when she felt strong hands grip her upper arms.

  “Look at me, Colbie.” When she opened her eyes, Liam’s face swam in her vision. “I know you’re overwhelmed. You’ve spent months settling in and now if feels like it’s all slipping away.”

  She hadn’t realized how worried she’d been the past couple of weeks. The small signs she’d found had become increasingly difficult to ignore, and she hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours each night for the past week. Colbie felt herself sway as fatigue and the heavy weight of emotion finally started to pull her under. By the time her knees buckled, her vision was already dimming, and the voices around her sounded like they were coming from the other end of a tunnel. It wasn’t worth the effort to fight the darkness, so she let herself slid into the peaceful silence.

  *

  LIAM WAS GLAD HE’D already had his hands on her because Colbie had dropped like a stone. He’d watched her eyes glaze with exhaustion and wondered when she’d last slept, a split second before she went completely limp. Scooping her up into his arms, he headed directly out the door. There was no reason to stand around chitchatting. He was grateful the other members of the team had moved Bode’s pickup inside the garage, making it easy to settle her on the backseat. The garage was close to Prairie Winds, so she wouldn’t need to stay out of sight long; and carrying her from the building was sure to catch the interest of anyone watching.

  “She’s beginning to come around. Make sure she stays down until you’re clear. I’ll be right behind you.” Liam slammed the pickup door and backed his car out of the bay. No one would think anything of them leaving separately; the men looking for Colbie would have seen his car when they’d been in the garage earlier. When they parked in the secured garage beneath the club a few minutes later, his shoulders sagged in relief.

  Colbie’s eyes went wide in surprise when she saw him getting out of his car. “Oh my God. That’s your car?” A myriad of emotions reflected in her eyes in a flash so quick it reminded him of the child’s game of thumbing a stack of still pictures to make the individual shots appear to move. “It’s my dream car. I even have pictures on…” He saw her eyes narrow as her quick mind started fitting pieces into the puzzle.

  He had no intention of having this discussion in the garage. Although they weren’t completely exposed, their conversation could certainly be overheard by the men monitoring the security feeds. “Let’s discuss this inside.” Grasping her elbow, he moved her toward the door as Bode tapped in the code. Micah Drake, the West’s computer and security guru, had a sweet setup, and the man’s contacts were the stuff of legend. Colbie might envy his car, but Liam envied Micah’s technology.

  “We’ll get you a keycard for the door and elevator later. For now, you won’t need them.” Bode was flanking Colbie’s other side. They had her sandwiched between them, and he smiled at her quick intake of breath when she realized they were standing much closer than would ordinarily be considered polite. When she shifted to step away, Bode’s low voice filled the small space. “Don’t move. You will stay where we put you, Storeen.” Liam smiled to himself. If Bode was calling her his little treasure, his friend was as smitten with Colbie as Liam was. The only time the poetic influences of ancient Gaelic peppered Bode’s speech was when emotion was coloring his usually measured words.

  When the elevator doors opened, Colbie whistled. “Holy shit, Sherlocks.” Liam leaned his head back and laughed at her obvious pun about their former occupation. They hadn’t work for Scotland Yard, but most people didn’t know enough about the United Kingdom’s answer to the CIA to joke about it. “This is incredible. It reminds me of the manager’s quarters at The Castle Masters Club in London.”

  Liam had read her file until he had the damned thing committed to memory, so her mention of the exclusive BDSM club wasn’t a complete surprise. But hearing that she’d been in the manager’s private apartment set him back.

  “Why were you in Master Deacon’s apartment, Spitfire?”

  Colbie didn’t answer for long seconds. Instead, she appeared to be enthralled with the décor of the penthouse. Her fascination surprised him, considering she hadn’t done any decorating in the small apartment over the garage. If fact, he doubted it would have taken her more than five minutes to shove everything in a bag and be out the door. Her go bag was well stocked and stashed under the floorboards beneath the bed. If he hadn’t known what to look for, he’d have missed the small, hidden niche.

  “I’ve been to a lot of parties in that apartment. I always receive a personal invitation from Master Deacon.” Her response sent a lightning bolt of unexpected jealousy through him and from the murderous look on Bode’s face, he wasn’t faring any better. She shook her head and smiled. “You two are so easy. Deacon is my Godfather.”

  He blinked at her as if that would clear his confusion. “Godfather? Why isn’t that in your file?” It was almost impossible to believe that detail would have escaped them. And if they’d missed something that significant, what else had they missed?

  “I don’t know why it would be. It’s not like it’s something anyone needs to know.” Wrong. It was exactly the sort of thing they needed to know. After they’d left the agency, word of her membership to the posh kink club filtered out to them, but no one mentioned her personal association with Deacon Campbell. “Deacon let me join the club, but he didn’t let me have any fun.”

  “Define fun.” Liam didn’t realize he was clenching his fists at his sides until she looked down and paled. When she started to take a step back, Liam forced his fingers to relax and took a deep breath before speaking again. “Neither of us would ever hurt you, Colbie.”

  “Well, not in anger, anyway. That’s not to say I’m not itching to see what shade of pink my hand print will turn on your pert little ass.” Bode’s words were barely audible, but when Colbie’s cheeks turned scarlet, Liam knew she hadn’t missed the comment.

  “Deacon was very protective. He wouldn’t let me go into the lower dungeon levels. He let me take the training classes for submissives, and a couple of the dungeon masters used me for demos, but that was it. The one time I tried to negotiate a scene with a Dom, Deacon scared the guy off.” When Liam and Bode both grinned, she rolled her eyes. “It was embarrassing.”

  Ordinarily, having a woman roll her eyes at
him was grounds for an immediate paddling, but Liam held his tongue. After all, Colbie had only been in their care less than an hour. His gut told him she was a natural sub, and evidently, Deacon thought so as well. But until they’d had a chance to get her settled and at least discuss the basics, his palm wouldn’t be going anywhere near her bare ass.

  “Being under Master Deacon’s perusal should have made you feel safe rather than uncomfortable.” Bode’s words earned him a glare, making his eyes narrow, meeting her frown with one of his own. “Glaring at a Dom is never a good idea, Pet. It’s universally understood to be an invitation for punishment. You glare at a Dom downstairs, and you’ll find yourself bent over the nearest horizontal surface, bare ass to the wind before you’ve taken a deep breath.”

  When she opened her mouth to protest, Liam’s raised brow stilled the words before they spilled out. The protest he’d seen dancing on the tip of her tongue might have seemed more convincing if her breathing hadn’t quickened and her eyes dilated at Bode’s warning. Liam decided it was time to steer the conversation in a different direction.

  “When was the last time you ate, Colbie?” He knew from their frequent forays into her apartment there was never much food available. Hell, there had been times he wondered if she ever cooked anything other than eggs and grilled cheese sandwiches.

  *

  COLBIE HAD JUST opened her mouth to answer Liam’s inquiry when the elevator door opened and Kent West stepped into the room. “Sorry to barge in, but these were left downstairs along with a warning from my brother.” When she noticed her bags in his hand, Colbie had a sinking feeling about the warning. “It seems Tobi has some competition when it comes to a complete lack of cooking expertise.” His face broke out in a huge grin that made him look more like a mischievous teenager than a former Navy SEAL turned kink club owner.

  “My warning is for the two of you.” He pointed at Liam and Bode, but he never took his eyes off her. “She is not allowed to cook. Period. Nothing. We are just now getting back in the good graces of the local fire department and neither Kyle nor I want to start the process over again.” He grinned again and tilted his head to the side as if considering how to ask the question she knew was coming.

  “Care to tell me what the stench was in your apartment, Colbie? Kyle compared it to the rotten egg gas we made in high school chemistry. That shit was so rank they canceled classes for the rest of the day. As I recall, our parents were none too amused when the principal called them.” She knew Kent had used his own story to soften his question, but she could also see his determination. There wasn’t a chance on Earth she’d be able to avoid answering.

  “Eggs. I usually just scrambled them. I found a video on-line that made it look pretty easy and it was. But then my little microwave bit the dust, and I looked up how to make soft boiled eggs. The cook at my parents always made them for me, and I didn’t realize you had to watch the clock so carefully.”

  Shuffling her booted feet, she suddenly felt very out of place. Her grease stained clothing made her look like a street urchin, and the three men standing in front of her all looked like they’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine. Even Kent West’s jeans were crisply pressed, and his oxford shirt was so white, it probably glowed in the dark.

  “Did you know egg shells will burn to the bottom of a pan? Well, they do… right before they explode. The video didn’t mention anything about that happening. Or the stench.”

  “How long did you leave them unattended, Storeen?”

  “I don’t know for sure. I sort of forgot about them and went out for a run.” Running wasn’t her favorite exercise, but since she didn’t have access to a lap pool, it was the only way she had to expend all the pent-up stress. “When I got back, a guy walking by on the sidewalk in front of the garage told me he thought he’d heard a gunshot. He was going to call the police, but I talked him out of it.” She looked from Liam’s menacing expression to Bode who looked like his head was going to explode before she heard Kent’s snort of laughter.

  “You two have your work cut out for you. I could give you some pointers, but I think it’ll be more fun to stand back and watch you figure it out on your own. I can’t begin to tell you what a fucking déjà vu moment this is. And I can tell by the looks on your faces, you’re trying to decide which is worse, the fire hazard, talking a stranger out of calling for help, or returning alone to her apartment.”

  “Why wouldn’t I go back in? I remembered the eggs as soon as I rounded the corner and headed down the ally. And I’ve met most of the local police and darned well didn’t want them razzing me about overcooking a couple eggs.”

  “I know from experience it takes more than a couple of eggs to smell bad enough to elicit that response from Kyle. He wouldn’t even go home to shower—said he didn’t want to take the smell into our house.” Kent burst out laughing and it took almost a full minute for him to calm down enough to continue. “You can’t believe the shit we’ve seen over the years. We were deployed in some of the nastiest hell holes on the planet, and he swears he’s never smelled anything like that.”

  Colbie couldn’t hold back her grin because it was obvious he was deliberately exaggerating the story Kyle had probably already spun like fine gold thread. Leveling a look at her, he pointed his finger and all hint of humor evaporated like a summer shower on the hot Texas turf. “As for running into a space when someone tells you they’ve heard gunfire, sweetness, that shit stops now. That expression about fools rushing in where angels fear to tread? Don’t be a fool, because if angels are worried, you should be too.”

  Chapter Four

  BODE WATCHED AS the elevator doors slid closed as Kent West gave them both sympathetic looks. Asshole. Shaking his head, Bode heard Liam ask Colbie again about when she’d last eaten.

  “I had some yogurt for lunch.” She’d spent so much time cleaning up the mess in her apartment last night, she hadn’t eaten any dinner, and the place still smelled so bad this morning, she hadn’t wanted to stick around long enough to eat breakfast. She’d grabbed the small carton of yogurt and bolted out the door as quickly as possible.

  The litany of curses from both men made her cringe. They directed her to the kitchen and after ordering her to stay seated at the largest marble-topped island she’d ever seen, the two of them got to work. Their movements were so seamless, they looked like they’d been choreographed. Neither of them wasted any effort; every step was purposeful and they never seemed to be in the other’s way. In no time at all, they’d assembled a large pan of lasagna which was now baking and a salad which Bode put in the fridge to chill. It wasn’t until both men turned to her that she realized she’d been staring at them. Liam grinned, and she felt her face flush.

  “Like what you see, Spitfire?”

  Colbie felt the flush move up her face in a wave of searing heat. There wasn’t any reason to deny her obvious appreciation, but she didn’t see any reason to feed their egos by answering, either. So, she didn’t respond. His smile dimmed as he crossed his arms over his chest.

  “I expect you to answer when I ask you a question, Colbie. Not only is it the polite thing to do, it’s also something every Dom at the Prairie Winds Club will expect of you.”

  “You might want to review Master Deacon’s training manual. I’m fairly certain this would have been covered.” She’d have been offended by Bode’s tone if she hadn’t seen the heat blazing in his eyes. For a few seconds, she allowed relief to wash over her. Knowing they were attracted to her despite her appearance was empowering.

  “What are you thinking, Spitfire?”

  Colbie had spent enough time with Deacon when he was in Master-mode to recognize Liam’s tone. That wasn’t a simple question, it was a command for information. “I was just relieved that you don’t seem to mind how I look. I mean, I’m probably not your usual type, so…” she didn’t get the chance to finish the thought before both men started moving around the kitchen island.

  “Not our usual type? What’s our
usual type, Spitfire?”

  There was no way to answer Liam’s question without digging herself deeper into the hole she found herself in. Never one to shy away from a confrontation, Colbie blurted out what she’d pictured as their usual type.

  “Tall and gorgeous. Not a hair out of place. Perfect nails and dressed to kill. A woman who hangs on your every word.” And spends more time on her knees than on her feet when you’re around.

  She saw the muscles of his jaw tighten as he bit out, “How very open minded of you, dear.” Then why did that endearment sound more menacing than sweet? Something close to hurt flashed in his eyes, and for a few seconds, she felt guilty. Perhaps her assessment of them as shallow had been harsh, but she’d done her research and knew how accurate it had been. She’d accurately described every woman they’d been photographed with at social and charity events over the past decade.

  “No man worth having wants a woman with grease under her fingernails, Guinevere.” Her mother’s voice floated through her mind, but she quickly pushed aside the pain those memories brought. It wasn’t safe for the past to intrude on her present. Mistakes could easily cost her the little sliver of stability she’d found in Texas.

  The one thing she’d worried most about was being forced to move. She enjoyed her job, and she knew she could find a new one if she had to, but the security she felt knowing the Prairie Winds Team was nearby would be impossible to replace. Even though she’d decided against living in one of their cottages, she’d taken a lot of comfort knowing they were just minutes away.

  Colbie had learned how quickly everything she valued could be stolen from her. She didn’t regret going to the authorities with the information she’d overheard, but she also understood too well what it had cost her. Seeing the news of the young women and men being returned to their families was satisfying, but the whole mess had turned her world upside down.

  The first few weeks she’d been in witness protection had been the worst. Forced to stay hidden inside one of MI6’s safe houses had nearly driven her insane. When she’d learned Kent and Kyle West had offered their assistance, she’d been both elated and terrified. She’d visited the United States several times, but she’d never lived anywhere except London.