The weight of the worry pressing down on his shoulders threatened to topple him. "We'll find that b.a.s.t.a.r.d, Kat."

She shook her head, but because she refused to lift her face away from his shirt, it ended up being a tiny movement he felt rather than saw. He was also sure he was now wearing her mascara on his white dress shirt, but he didn't mind that so much.

"He doesn't even matter in all this." She sniffled and looked up at last, but she kept her eyes downcast. The remnants of tears glinted from her eyelashes. "You make me feel such extreme emotions, and I've developed a powerful attachment to you. I like knowing I belong to you, that you'll take care of me, that you'll take pleasure in my body and then I can spend some time with my head against your knee and your hand moving through my hair."

Kat was a capable, independent woman. There was no disputing facts. However, she harbored the sweet soul of a submissive. All these years, she'd spent enormous amounts of time and energy trying to please everyone in her life. Now she could concentrate those intentions on him, and she was finding the comfort in being needed. Happiness soared through him.

He hooked his finger under her chin and forced her to look him in the eye. "There's nothing wrong with any of that, honey. I promise I'll always cherish you and the gift of your submission. There is nothing on this earth more precious to me than you."

Not one for tender words or loving declarations, he expected the rea.s.surance to lodge in his throat, but it didn't. His pride thoroughly approved, and some of the scars on his heart softened. For the first time in his life, love filled his chest, and it didn't hurt. He meant to tell her. He even opened his mouth, but the doorbell rang, cutting him off and putting him on high alert. They weren't expecting visitors.

He fixed his pants and pulled a small piece from the holster in his jacket, checked the chamber, and handed it to her. "If I don't call out that it's all clear, you shoot whoever comes up those stairs. Got it?"

She had good aim. He or Malcolm took her and her mother to the gun range regularly to keep their skills sharp. He didn't worry about the actuality of her having to shoot someone. The pervert would have to go through him first.

Kat studied him, the pa.s.sion dimming slowly from her eyes, replaced with concern. "Do you really think my stalker would knock?"

They hadn't experienced activity in five days. Stalkers tended to lie low after a larger event to lull their victim into a false sense of security. People took chances when they didn't have their guard up. Neither he nor Malcolm would allow Kat to take risks. They were both too protective of the ones they loved. "Don't know," he said. "As time pa.s.ses and n.o.body catches him, he'll become more confident. His actions will escalate. He might even become bold enough to knock at your door, pretending to be lost or something."

She pressed her lips together, girding herself for whatever happened, and nodded her understanding. By the time he'd crossed her small eating area, she'd smoothed out her clothes.

Her door didn't have a peephole. The only window down at her entryway was above the door. It let in light, but the angle of the steps coming down didn't allow for a preview of the visitor, and the cameras they'd aimed at the door weren't set up to record faces. Another flaw of the building design. Kat was going to need to sell her unit. Even after they caught her stalker, there was no way he was going to let her stay in a place so difficult to secure. In the meantime, Malcolm had to build a better camera, and Keith would pay a visit to a home improvement store to get a peephole. They weren't difficult to install.

Throwing open the door, he centered his gun on the figure standing there.

Darcy's jaw dropped open, but she froze instead of clutching her chest. Or the little b.u.mp showing on her abdomen. That would have been worse.

Keith holstered his weapon. "Sorry. You didn't call, and we don't have a live feed set up to show who's at the door."

She closed her mouth and smiled, completely composed despite the circ.u.mstances of his greeting, and he was reminded of how well she'd kept it together during the bust that had nearly cost him his friendship with Malcolm. "Now I really, really have to use the bathroom." Her blue eyes sparkled, and he was relieved to realize she hadn't taken it personally.

He stepped out of her way, pivoting to call up the stairs. "All clear, Kat. It's Darcy."

Darcy squeezed his arm as she swept past him. She almost never pa.s.sed up the opportunity to touch him in some rea.s.suring or friendly way. He wondered if Malcolm had told her about Keith's aversion to uninvited touching.

Few people who attempted casual contact didn't set off Keith's internal alarms. While Darcy didn't trip any warning wires, he still wasn't sure exactly how to treat her. The friendly, welcoming manner in which she always treated him was at odds with the wariness to which submissives instinctively reverted around him. Even many people who didn't consciously identify as submissive bowed to his authority. No doubt about it: his best friend had netted a singular woman.

Since he was at the door, he did a visual sweep of the area before returning to the main floor. Kat waited for him in the kitchen, her eyes wild and questioning. He felt a tightening in his chest, because he knew she was worried that Malcolm would find out about them. Though he knew Malcolm would be p.i.s.sed initially, he preferred to be open about their relationship. If he wasn't concerned, why should she be?

Kat handed the gun back to him and smoothed her hands over her clothes. Her attempts at fixing her appearance only made him want to tear her clothes off so he could watch her hands run over her naked flesh. "Where is Mal?"

Keith shook his head. "I didn't see his car."

"He's picking up some Thai food." Darcy breezed into the kitchen, a bright smile lighting her face. "I asked him to drop me off first so I could use the bathroom. He was supposed to call."

Kat extracted her phone from her purse. "Yep. He called about thirty seconds ago. It went right to voice mail. I hate when it does that."

"So anyway, unless you guys want to explain to Malcolm why you both look like you just had s.e.x, I'd go clean up." She leveled a firm look at Kat. "Wash your face. Maybe change into something less wrinkled. I'll call him and let him know you're safe so he doesn't come zooming back without food. I'm too hungry to wait for him to process all this before I eat."

Keith used the guest bathroom. He didn't have much to fix. His dishabille was the result of hastily pulling his pants into place and a misb.u.t.toned shirt. He had been chasing bad guys today, so a few stains on his shirt would go unremarked. Kat did look like she'd been well and truly loved. Her lips were a bit swollen, and her makeup had run when she'd cried.

He returned to find Darcy relaxing on a chair in the living room, the remote in her hand. She'd turned on a home improvement show. Seeing him, she blushed. "I can't seem to stop watching these shows. Malcolm is going to kill me if I ask him about redecorating or remodeling another thing. I've already changed my mind about the baby's room a dozen times and told him I didn't like his living room furniture. That black leather sofa needs to die."

Keith grimaced. Malcolm had searched for almost six months before he found a couch he liked. It was a distinctly masculine sectional, and Darcy's home decor walked a fine line between cla.s.sical and modern.

He sat on the sofa and leaned forward. "You sent Malcolm out for food because you didn't want him to catch us. How did you know?"

She seemed to chew on that one for a while. Thoughts marched through the shifting frowns on her face until she settled on something. "I didn't know. I suspected. She said a few things last weekend when we were alone that made me think she was seeing somebody, and then I noticed the way you were looking at her. You've always looked at her like you were half in love, but this was different. More possessive. You looked at her the way a Dom looks at his sub, and that was new. She responds to you differently now. And just a few minutes ago, she looked like a well-satisfied sub. It's a great feeling, though it does sometimes leave your face a mess. I'll have to give her some makeup tips."

"Why would you keep this from Malcolm?" He had a list of questions, and that meant their conversation was going to come off sounding more like an interrogation. He knew he had to be careful-Darcy wasn't fond of being questioned like this-but he needed answers. Plus he was baffled that she would keep this from her Master.

"I won't for long." Her ice-blue gaze chilled him, and he understood that she didn't like deceiving Mal. "However, I recognize that it's your place to tell him, so I'll give you one week. He isn't going to be happy about it, especially if it comes from me. At least if you tell him, you can explain. a.s.sure him that your intentions are pure."

His intentions were anything but pure. Honorable, maybe, but also carnal and primal. "Kat doesn't want him to know."

"No, I don't expect she does. She'll go to any length to protect the people in her life, won't she?" Darcy muted the TV and turned to face him fully. "I bet she's struggling with lots of guilt, though. Lying doesn't sit well with her. That's a good thing. Lies ruin relationships."

Yes, his Kitty Kat went out of her way to avoid hurting people's feelings. He loved that about her. But guilt was definitely becoming a factor. It did eat at her from the inside. He nodded at Darcy in agreement. "I'll talk to her about it."

With that, Darcy took one step closer to becoming one of the few women he trusted. The rest of his questions sidled away, of lesser importance now that he understood her position.

"Have you called your sister?"

Though her volume dropped, Keith jumped visibly. Of course Malcolm told her everything. After lying to her the way he had when they met, he probably went out of his way to make it up to her by telling her more than she had a right to know.

"Why would I do that?"

She seemed taken aback by the derision in his voice. He watched her struggle to find the right response.

He strived for a gentler tone. "Whatever Malcolm has told you, it can't be the whole story if you think I would contact any of those people." Of course, Mal thought he should contact his sister, so Darcy probably shared his opinion.

Kat emerged from the hallway. She'd exchanged her power skirt for a pair of white shorts and a fitted blue cotton shirt. The cut of the shorts emphasized the s.e.xy length of her legs, and the brightness of the white highlighted her olive complexion. Keith shifted to ease the growing discomfort in his pants.

"What people?" She sat down next to him, though he noticed the longing look she cast at the spot on the floor near his feet. The ache in his b.a.l.l.s grew.

He sighed and braced to hear the same speech from Kat that Malcolm had given him last week. "My sister has been calling, leaving messages for me at work."

Her eyes didn't widen with surprise or sympathy. "And your mother was trying to talk to you Sunday."

"Malcolm is under the impression that you were going to at least call. He thought he'd convinced you to take a chance on your sister." Darcy's eyes widened as she made the connection. Then she laughed. "But you decided to take a chance with his sister. Oh, he's going to love the irony. Eventually."

Keith wasn't sure about that, but he didn't get a chance to respond. Kat clasped her hands together, worrying them in her lap. "He's not going to get the chance. I'm not ready for him to know." She cast an apologetic look at him. "I'm not ready to face his anger, and I haven't even told my parents yet."

He wanted to rea.s.sure her, but he also knew he needed to push her on this issue. This was an ideal area for him to a.s.sert his dominance. "Darcy's promised us one week to get ready. She's a good sub, and we're putting her in a bad position by asking her to keep this from Mal."

Darcy's phone trilled. "That's Malcolm. I called to let him know that I was right and you guys were fine." She picked up the phone and motioned to the front door, mouthing the words He's here.

The promise of a week's reprieve seemed to have relaxed Kat, but Keith wasn't similarly comforted. Malcolm was far from stupid, and if Darcy had noticed the way he looked at Kat, then it was only a matter of time before Malcolm noticed as well.

He decided to let Kat spend some more time in her bubble before he was forced to pop it. Perhaps giving her a deadline would help her mentally prepare for the coming-out process. Darcy coming over had turned out to be a good thing.

Malcolm had brought more carryout than four people could possibly eat at one sitting. Kat surveyed the number of paper sacks br.i.m.m.i.n.g with hot deliciousness that Malcolm managed to carry inside.

"Jesus, Mal. How many more people are coming?"

Malcolm grinned and kissed his sister on the cheek. "The way Darcy's craving any kind of Asian food out there, I'm going to need these leftovers. She'll go through them in a day or two."

Halfway through dinner, many of the cartons of food had ended up untouched. It wasn't due to lack of trying, though. Once they all slowed down-even Darcy, who had packed away an impressive amount-conversation began to flow.

"The Holbrook case is going to break wide open this weekend." Malcolm stabbed a fork into his rice as he spoke.

Kat regarded her brother with her eyebrows drawn together. "I thought the investigative portion of that case was finished. It's set to go to trial in two months."

This didn't come as much of a surprise to Keith. He'd heard rumblings before he'd left the office, but he'd been too intent on getting to Kat to stay to hear the details.

"So did I, but an informant in another case gave up some juicy intel. Jordan had a hush-hush meeting with Elizabeth Alder today." Malcolm lifted his gaze and regarded Kat with a somber expression.

Keith understood the implication of Mal's look. A meeting with her boss meant that warrants had been requested or a battle strategy had been hatched, or both. With her safety in question, the risk factor had officially increased, especially since a large break like this could pull dozens of people from other, less important cases. Like hers.

Malcolm continued. "Keith and I are both active in this case. We have to be there this weekend, which means you can either stay with Darcy or stay with Mom and Dad."

Kat sidled a troubled glance in his direction that he interpreted to indicate she didn't want to be away from him at all, but she understood what it was like to be with an agent. Then she grinned at Darcy. "Sounds like a girls' night out to me."

"In," Keith corrected. "Girls' night in. You guys can paint your toenails and watch chick flicks."

Both Kat and Darcy cast affronted looks in his direction. He didn't understand what he'd said wrong.

Kat licked her lips. He followed the tantalizing move and vowed to kick Malcolm out as soon as possible. He wanted to see her pink tongue wrapped around his d.i.c.k, her naked p.u.s.s.y perched over his face. "You have no idea what women do when men aren't around, do you?"

The visions that leaped into his head probably weren't the visions she'd intended.

Across the table, Malcolm frowned. "I'm not sure we want to know."

But Darcy had already moved on. "We can invite Layla and my sister Amy. It'll be fun."

The two women exchanged smiles. Malcolm looked exceptionally pleased that his fiancee and his sister were bonding. He'd only begun bringing Darcy around a few months ago, and it was important to him that she become friends with those closest to him.

For the first time, Keith's apprehension fled, and he regarded Darcy as a full member of his family.

But he noticed that Kat never fully relaxed.

__________.

Keith closed the door behind Malcolm and Darcy. The sharp click of the dead bolt echoed up the stairwell. Kat jumped at the sound. Her nerves had been on edge throughout dinner, growing markedly shakier as time pa.s.sed. She knew Darcy didn't plan to say anything to Malcolm until her deadline elapsed, so he didn't understand why she seemed to be unraveling before his eyes. Did the possible fallout from revealing their relationship to her brother really cause her so much emotional pain? It distressed him to see her upset like this. He had to do something about it.

"I want to see you kneeling naked on your bedroom floor in five minutes."

Her chocolate gaze rose when he began speaking, but then it dropped off and fastened on the steps to her left. "Keith, I'm really not in the mood for-"

Pressing his finger to her lips, he cut the flow of her weak protest. "Your wishes are inconsequential right now. Time's ticking. Four and a half minutes left."

He kept his tone gentle. The countdown wasn't fair or accurate, but that mattered little. She needed this. Her emotions were rioting out of control, and it fell to him to help her deal with them. It was less a matter of her wishes being inconsequential than it was that he understood what she needed.

She didn't say anything more as she turned away and climbed the stairs to the main floor. His order hadn't calmed her one bit. It would take time and experience for her to realize he had her best interests at heart. This was new territory for him. In the past when he'd given an order like that, he really hadn't cared what his submissive wanted. Guilt washed over him at the thought of the callous way he'd treated the women who'd given themselves to him. To a certain extent, he'd drowned in them the same way he'd once escaped into the bottom of a bottle. No more of that. He bid a final farewell to that hollow existence. Kat had opened his heart, and he was discovering the depths of caring and generosity he'd long ago locked away.

Slowly he followed the melancholy shadows of her recent path. The kitchen and dining areas were clean. Darcy and Malcolm had helped with that before they left. He liked that Darcy didn't hesitate to pitch in and help with dishes. Malcolm and Kat had been raised that way. Keith's parents hadn't cared about cleaning one way or the other. His nearly obsessive fastidiousness was a reaction to the chaos and filth of his youth.

He checked all the windows, as he did every night, closed the living room curtains, and shut off the light. Then he freshened up in the guest bathroom. His bag of tricks was in the hall closet. He extracted a coiled length of rope, but he didn't need anything else from there. Tonight Kat needed to know she belonged to him more than she needed the escape a bit of prolonged pain might offer.

Though he was early, he found her kneeling obediently as he'd ordered. A visual sweep of the room confirmed that she'd closed the curtains to ensure their privacy. He crossed over to her slider to check that the door leading to the balcony was locked behind those heavy drapes. Then he checked the single window.

After turning around, he paused to study her. She faced a little to his right, so he had a three-quarter view of her body. She sat with her bottom resting on her heels, knees spread, and her hands were clasped behind her back. Her steady gaze didn't waver from a point on the floor just in front of her body. She trembled, and he figured it was equal parts nerves and the effort of holding that position.

When he felt her nerves had stretched nearly to the breaking point, which didn't take long, he strolled across the room. He stopped and stood with one foot on either side of her leg. She quivered from the effect of his nearness, but she didn't move. Wordlessly he reached out and ran his fingers through her hair. He shifted, putting his leg in closer proximity to her head, and urged her to rest her cheek against his thigh. She exhaled and relaxed, immediately surrendering to his will. The sweetness of her body heat radiated through the material of his pants. He'd never seen such beauty in submission, such grace and trust, as he saw right now. She stole his breath.

And so he sat there for a few minutes and let the simple essence of their combined existence wash through him, cleansing away the acc.u.mulated cynicism and filth that came from a lifetime of living in the dark. He ached to tell her that he loved her, but the words stuck like sand in his throat. Baby steps. He couldn't let his insufficiencies affect her. Right now, she needed his strength.

"Submission isn't just about power or possession. It's the ultimate show of trust." A confidence he'd falsely held until now. "It's also about having the security of knowing you can and will rely on me to see to your needs. Do you know what you need, my Kitty Kat?"

She didn't tense a muscle or otherwise shift, and when she spoke, her voice was laced with sadness. "No."

He stroked his hand down her hair again and again, tucking stray strands behind her ear. "You need to stop pretending this isn't upsetting you. Being watched by an anonymous person who wishes you harm, being tailed by federal agents, being forced to be with me all the time-all these things are wearing on you. It's okay to be afraid, and it's okay to expect me to support you through this. Through everything, Kat. I mean that."

Her jaw flexed. He wasn't sure if she had something to say or if she was grinding her teeth.

"You have permission to speak."

"I only wanted to say that I don't mind spending all this time with you, though I suppose it's wearing on you. I know how much you need alone time to regroup." She pressed her face harder against his thigh, her shoulders taut.

Yes, he was known for having little patience with most people. He continued caressing her hair until she relaxed again. "Being with you isn't like being with anyone else. You're an essential part of me. I want to take care of you. I need to take care of you."

Abruptly he released his hold on her and stepped back. Her gaze didn't waver, and he felt a sense of pride at how far she'd come in just one week. He knew she was curious, but this proved she trusted him to see to her needs.

Kneeling in front of her, he cupped her face in his hands. She lifted her gaze then, meeting his with unspoken meaning. All defenses were stripped away, and he could see the depth of her fear and vulnerability. Now that they'd acknowledged these feelings, he could work on helping her deal with them.

Her lush lips quivered and parted, inviting him closer. He took careful advantage of her plea, kissing her with gentle possessiveness. She moaned, and he felt her whole body sway closer. Her arms didn't move. It was imperfect obedience, a lack of control as she surrendered even more.

Keith wasn't intent on making her demonstrate control or master anything tonight. He wanted to show her that he was her rock, and he was made of st.u.r.dy stuff. He ended the kiss and dotted smaller smooches along her temples and cheekbones, ending with a barely-there trace of lips over her eyelids.

She sighed contentedly.

He allowed her to bask in the tenderness. Then he stood, lifting her so that she got to her feet with him. He took a moment to make sure she was steady before releasing her from his hold.

The coiled rope he'd tossed on her bed waited for the next part of his plan. He measured off several feet before he wrapped it around her lower arm. This extra would be used to finish the design.

Next he crossed her arm under her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, looping and tying the line to ensure she couldn't move her arm. Then he did the same thing to her other arm. When he finished, her arms were bound to her torso in a forced hug. This pose exemplified her vulnerabilities, plumped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s in offering, and provided a bit of comfort at the same time.

He circled her body, checking the tightness and fit. "How does it feel?"