Lach and Ethan were in the hotel suite with the Dunaway family, although given the size of the living room, the two men had managed to stay out of the way. They'd added additional men to the details in recent weeks, just as a precaution. The hotel was as secure as it was going to get. They'd swept the entire floor for electronic intrusion and threats of any imaginable type. Kimmie had remained in front of the television with her father, sister, and at least half the staff for most of the evening. Why they'd all needed to be here was beyond Lach's comprehension. He would have thought they'd be more useful back at campaign headquarters.

"For?" Lach asked, curious as to why Kimmie was thanking him.

Lach heard chatter on the line, but it was just two agents verifying a guest's access who'd wanted to gain entry to the floor with control. The entire level had been wired to a central control room set up with every kind of electronic surveillance gadget that would aid them in detecting a threat. It was also the hub that all the security details worked out of daily.

"I see how Phoebe is around you and how she listens to what you have to say." Kimmie shoved her hands inside her black pants. It was the first time he'd seen her in dress clothes versus her usual sweatshirt and jeans. Lach wasn't sure where she was going with this conversation, but it was clear she didn't want to be over with the crowd. "The two of you seemed to have formed this friendship. I can imagine how hard that was, especially given what happened in Iraq. Ethan has barely spoken to me since I confessed."

"We take loyalty to heart in our line of business, Kimmie." Lach wasn't keen on the fact that Phoebe had shared their past with Kimmie, but then again, they were sisters. He should have expected it. "It's vital."

"I never would have hurt them," Kimmie exclaimed, her brown eyes widening in shock that they might think she actually would. "They were empty threats."

"I didn't say that you would physically hurt your father or sister. There are different kinds of loyalty, but trusting your family takes precedence."

"I know Phoebe has my best interests at heart, but she doesn't always listen to me like she does you. I have a feeling that if you weren't around, she wouldn't have forgiven me so easily."

"Are things better between the two of you?" Lach asked, looking across the room at Phoebe as she stared intently at the numbers on the television. He'd been observing her all evening, wondering how he'd lasted months not caving in and f.u.c.king her until she couldn't walk. It was getting to the point where he didn't think waiting for a horizontal structure was going to happen. "I can see how you're trying to make amends to them."

"I've been keeping my head down and studying, doing my best to keep out of their way." Kimmie gave a sad smile as she watched her family. "The reality of what was going to happen to my life had me panicking. I reacted without thinking. I'm not proud of that."

"No but in there?" Lach knew that Ethan could hear every word that he and Kimmie were saying. The man still didn't bother to look their way. "Maybe you have learned a thing or two."

Phoebe had turned to speak with someone when her eyes caught his. He was still in awe that she could be so beautiful, even after having been up for over twenty hours. The make-up she wore accentuated her features, while he swore she wore that pink lipstick just to torture him. She wore a burgundy business suit versus a dress, although the suit was cut exactly right. She probably wore some designer who would get credit come morning after Phoebe's picture was posted in every newspaper and shown on every media outlet. Her high heeled shoes made her calf muscles taut, although he could definitely think of other things that would do the same, such as having her wrists bound and drawn tight over her head to an eyehook in a ceiling. Her tiptoes would be the only thing touching the ground.

"You should go join them," Ethan said, motioning with his head toward the large group. "Show them you mean what you say."

"I'm going to be sad to see you guys go." Kimmie gave them a wink before doing what Ethan suggested.

"Does she know something we don't?" Ethan looked questioningly at Lach.

"You know that the Secret Service wasn't too happy that Dunaway didn't notify them about the original threats from Ward. Crest has been using what influence he has to keep them at bay, but now that Dunaway has taken the lead in the primaries the White House isn't going to give him a choice." Lach saw Phoebe excuse herself and start walking his way. "I figure we have twelve hours before they descend and walk off with our charges."

"It's about f.u.c.king time," Ethan murmured, having seen Phoebe headed their way as well. "I went out and bought a fire extinguisher today. Wasn't too sure the two of you were going to last."

Lach shouldn't have been surprised that Ethan, or for that matter the rest of the team, could see the attraction between him and Phoebe. Of course, Kimmie mentioning Iraq just confirmed it. His friends knew him well enough to know when Lach's behavior altered slightly, although it was doubtful anyone else did. Phoebe was well practiced in keeping her private life just that and she'd been doing a d.a.m.n fine job. Not even Mooney had said a word and nothing had been leaked to the press. It would have all been rumor anyway.

"You two don't have to stand so far away." Phoebe threw Ethan a smile, but her blue eyes remained on Lach. He heard Ethan cough but purposefully ignored him. "You've been with us through these past few months. You're just as involved in this process as we are."

"No," Lach corrected, maintaining his position by the entrance. "We have nothing to do with the election. Our job it to keep you secure."

"If we weren't safe, there wouldn't be an election."

"Touche," Ethan muttered.

Lach eyed Ethan until he held his hands up in mock surrender. He was smart and walked away toward the group. He motioned for a couple of people to move away from the window and went about drawing the shades closed once more. One of the young interns kept opening them and Ethan gave another warning. A round of cheers echoed throughout the room as more poll results came through, spreading out the margin between Dunaway and his running mates.

"So what happens tomorrow?" Phoebe asked, her gaze direct. "I'll be honest with you, Lach. I'm tired of waiting."

"Until the reins are handed over to the Secret Service, we'll continue as things are."

"You don't give an inch, do you?" There was admiration in Phoebe's voice, although her blue eyes showed the frustration they were both feeling.

"I am who I am." Lach studied her closely and saw the slightly bruised flesh beneath her eyes. She was tired. Phoebe had been running herself ragged with eighteen to twenty hour days. Mooney and Dunaway were doing the same thing, but Lach didn't care about them in the same manner. The d.a.m.nedest part of all this was that there wasn't a thing he could do about it. At least not now. "You keep referencing the change in our relationship. Just be sure you're ready for it."

Lach had kept his oath and made sure that they didn't cross the line into a territory that would be filled with landmines. He had stood back and let Phoebe do her job, not saying a word. Had it been his place, he would have made sure she ate correctly, had the proper amount of sleep, and maintained her health. There were times he made suggestions, although she didn't always follow through. She was independent, which he admired, but sometimes it was to her disadvantage.

"Is that a threat, Mr. McKinnon?" A smile appeared on those soft pink lips of hers, as if she were enjoying this cat and mouse game. "I can a.s.sure you that I'm ready for anything you dish out."

"Go back and join your family, Phoebe," Lach ordered, knowing this wasn't the place to be having this conversation. "We'll have plenty of time to discuss where things might be headed."

Lach saw hesitation in Phoebe's eyes. He knew the second the words left his mouth that she'd latched on to his indirect reference to their future. There were things they needed to talk about, which was why he'd kept things vague by saying might be headed. She'd misunderstood once again, but he wasn't going to correct her. He lived a lifestyle that he enjoyed. It was a part of who he was. There were moments, especially when he felt her body heat, that he envisioned what it would be like to have her at his mercy and had no doubt she would enjoy the pleasure he could give her. And then there were times when he wasn't sure she would understand that part of him. He wasn't used to uncertainty and he looked forward to when their cards were laid on the table. Until then, he wouldn't commit either one of them to anything that wasn't certain.

"Phoebe, this is a big day for your father. It's a key state." Lach didn't want to be the reason that she missed out on Dunaway's victory. "Go."

Phoebe's hair was styled differently today with most of the strands pulled back in a clip. There were still some tendrils loose and as was her habit, she tucked them behind her ears. She truly was a beautiful woman and he knew that should Dunaway win this race and make it through the elections in November, Phoebe would be in the eye of the public. He was concerned about her reaction to his predilection when it came to the bedroom, but could he handle the life that she was about to be thrown into? She walked back into the throng of people, maneuvering her way to stand beside her father who happened to be sitting in a cushioned chair. She placed her hand on his shoulder as they continued watching the results, although she glanced Lach's way occasionally.

It was close to one in the morning when the last of the poll results were shown, cheering and shouting sounding throughout the room. Stan Dunaway was the victor of another state and he would continue to face the uphill battle of becoming the President of the United States. Hugs and handshakes were exchanged throughout the group. Kimmie was standing by her father, whispering something in his ear. Whatever was said warranted the man to kiss his daughter tenderly on the forehead. Lach and Ethan prepared to lead the way down to where Dunaway would give his speech, his daughters by his side.

"One more down, a lot more to go." The soft words came from Phoebe, as she placed her hand on his arm before they all filed out into the hallway.

Lach didn't reply, but instead did his job and escorted the group downstairs. Vehicles had been prepared that would take everyone to a reception hall down the street where supporters had gathered. Phoebe had to know that these eighteen to twenty hour days were just beginning and the next nine months would be h.e.l.l. Once again, she would be devoting her life to someone other than herself.

"Exiting now. En route to lobby level."

Chapter Fifteen.

Three days later, Lach and the team had done a successful transfer of their duties to the Secret Service. He wasn't too partial to the primary agent a.s.signed to Phoebe, but there wasn't a whole h.e.l.l of a lot he could do about it. The primary would run a rotation schedule similar to how Lach had operated his PSD. There was no mention of Kimmie's misadventures to the new crew, nor would there be. Dunaway had made himself clear. The Secret Service would do their own investigations on family, friends, and anyone personally connected with the Dunaways. It was a clean start and one that was needed.

"Lach. May I have a word with you?"

Crest, Connor, Ethan, and Lach had been headed for the door when Phoebe's request stopped him. He told the others to go on ahead and that he would meet up with them at the office. Cases were waiting and with Taryn having already requested her time off to go up north to vet out answers regarding her past, things were promising to get real busy fast. It was just another day of work.

"Not smart, Phoebe." Lach stood in front of her, where she'd positioned herself against the far right side of the room. She split her time between a six-foot table in the corner and her father's office whenever he was on the road. Lach certainly wouldn't miss the madness that occurred non-stop within these walls. "To these people, we have a professional relationship. I was your PSD lead agent. We should spell things out before we take things any further."

"Which is why I'm inviting you over for dinner tonight," Phoebe said softly, keeping her words low so that no one overheard them. "Say...eight o'clock?"

"Since when do you leave this place any earlier than midnight? You don't think a change in routine won't raise some eyebrows?"

"Are you worried about being seen with me?" Phoebe was wearing high heels, but the top of her head still didn't reach his chin. Lach looked down at her, and although she appeared to be buoyant, that exhaustion he'd been seeing was taking its toll. "The public isn't going to care who I have dinner with."

"One, they aren't going to know that we're having dinner together until we've discussed things. Two, you'll leave here no later than eighteen hundred and I'll be there with food in hand. If you're not there, the evening is cancelled."

Lach could see that his instructions irritated her, but that was just tough s.h.i.t. Her idea for this evening was not what she was going to experience. It was obvious over these last few months that she didn't know how to properly take care of herself. A protein bar here and there didn't cut it. It wasn't his place to comment before, but today's events would change things. Could she handle the man that he truly was?

"You're one minute late."

"Would you really have left?" Phoebe asked exasperatedly, shooting him a sideways look to show him she didn't believe he would. They'd waited too long for this moment. She held up her key to him, knowing that he'd turned his over to the Secret Service. She looked over her shoulder at Jim, her new guard. He wasn't very talkative, but then she didn't need him to be. They waited patiently as he searched her apartment for any threats and then positioned himself by the door, showing no interest in the discussion she was about to pick up again. "Traffic was heavy."

"Since I just arrived and have personally experienced the streets, I'll give you that. Which is why I would have waited five more minutes...not a second more."

Phoebe could have sworn he was serious, but Lach busied himself with opening her door. She tried to take the bag full of containers from his grasp, but he wouldn't allow her to. Shrugging at his stubbornness, she followed him inside of her apartment. This was the first night she'd been home this early in weeks. She placed her purse on the side table and went about unb.u.t.toning her dress coat. Uncharacteristically, she kicked off her shoes and left them by the coat rack. Her feet hurt and she wasn't about to walk through the apartment to take them off in her closet.

"Take a seat at the counter." Lach made himself at home by placing the to-go bags in the kitchen, quickly checking the entire apartment for his own comfort, and then shedding his leather jacket. His holster was still secured to his chest, but the white ribbed long-sleeved shirt he was wearing contoured his physique rather nicely. She thought of telling him they could skip dinner, but as he went back into the kitchen and tore into the bag, the mouthwatering aroma of Italian tomato sauce surfaced into the air. "Get started on this while I open up a bottle of wine."

"It smells so good," Phoebe exclaimed as she hoisted herself up on a stool. "What restaurant did you use? I don't think I've ever seen that logo."

"It's a quaint little hole in the wall outside of the city." Lach went about opening the wine and only paused once to look at her food pointedly, telling her to take a bite. Phoebe caved and had to close her eyes as the tangy sauce covered her tongue. It was unlike anything she'd ever had before. "Have you ever heard of Masters?"

The question took Phoebe by surprise and she found herself trying not to choke on her pasta. Lach promptly placed the gla.s.s of wine in front of her, but there wasn't an ounce of humor etched in his face. He was dead serious. All at once, everything fell into place-all of his past comments, his dominant behavior, and his need for control. She swallowed and waited a few more moments before revealing part of the truth.

"It's a club, isn't it?"

"Go on." Could Lach see that Phoebe knew exactly what kind of club Masters really was? He wanted her to continue to describe it and seemed willing to wait her out. He picked up a fork and dug into his food as if they weren't actually having a discussion about Dominants and submissives. This wasn't your typical dinner conversation. "What kind of club?"

"You know what kind of club," Phoebe answered petulantly, taking another sip of wine to calm her nerves. Just talking about what went on in that place had jacked up the heat in her apartment. He kept eating and patiently looked across the counter at her with those dark eyes of his. The word slipped out of her mouth. "Kink."

"Yes," Lach agreed, taking a napkin and wiping his mouth. Phoebe tried not to fixate on his lips, but he was making that rather hard. He'd lifted one side up into a sensuous smile. "Let me be more specific. BDSM-Bondage, discipline, sadism, masochism, or dominance and submission. It all depends on the person and how they view it and play out the lifestyle."

Phoebe's heart was beating a little too fast and her hands were perspiring. It was if her dreams were unfolding and seeing the light of reality. Today's event had allowed them to be in each other's company on a personal level in place of a professional one. Tonight's occurrence had taken that personal level to an intimate one with just an exchange of words. She took another sip of wine and protested when Lach took it from her hands.

"Eat."

"What?" Was he kidding? Phoebe couldn't eat another bite, not when they were discussing BDSM. "I'm not hungry."

"Yes, you are." Lach pointed to her food. "Eat. I'll talk."

Phoebe hesitantly picked up her fork, searching Lach's eyes to see if this was some type of test. Did he think she would always follow his orders? She sure as h.e.l.l didn't have that type of personality, but she wouldn't mind playing around. Was that what he was getting at? She took another bite and although it was just as good as the first, she felt like she was waiting on pins and needles for what he was about to say.

"When I was a Marine, I was on leave with some buddies." Lach continued to eat with gusto and talk in between bites as if this was a normal discussion. "One of them lived in Southern California, so I stopped there first instead of heading home. I spent the weekend getting an education, especially for a guy who'd been somewhat sheltered. My buddy got a few of us some guest pa.s.ses, and by the end of the weekend my a.s.s didn't get home that time, much to my parents dismay. I became a member and learned who I was, what I like, what I crave, and what makes me satisfied."

Phoebe was on autopilot with her eating, picking up the food with her fork and putting it in her mouth. She had to remind herself to chew every now and then, but she got enough down to keep him talking. Her skin was tingling as he described his first time in the lifestyle. She would eventually have to admit a few things herself, but she wanted to hear more of what he had to say.

"I get pleasure out of taking a woman to heights she's never experienced before. Each scene is constructed to bring out her most basic animal gratification to the submissive beneath my touch and that is just the beginning." Lach finally pushed his plate away, using the napkin once again to wipe his mouth. He picked up her gla.s.s and drank the last little bit that had been at the bottom. "This part of me isn't something that I'm willing to give up. Which is why we're having this conversation. You and I agree that there's this chemistry between us and we both want to act on that. So I see two ways this is going to unfold."

Phoebe finally put her fork down, using her own napkin. She looked at the white tissue, seeing that she'd smeared off most of her lipstick. There was a part of her that wanted him to stop the discussion right where they were, giving her time to catch her breath. Feeling the heat of his stare, she knew that wasn't going to happen. She met his dark gaze and wondered how in h.e.l.l they'd lasted this long. Did he not realize that even talking about dominance and submission made her want to tear her clothes from her body and submit?

"One, you agree to expand your horizons and are willing to trust me to show you pleasure beyond your wildest imagination." Lach slowly walked around the island and didn't stop until he turned her stool and was right in front of her. She unconsciously widened her legs, giving him a place to settle. He tucked her hair behind her ears for her before cradling her face, so she placed her hands on his arms. "Or two, you decide that it's not what you want. We agree to quench these flames that spark up every time we're near each other and then go our separate ways."

"What if I choose option two, but I don't want to go my separate way?" Phoebe had no idea why she'd asked that question. Maybe she was testing him. The words had just slipped out. "What would you say?"

"That I am who I am." Lach brushed a thumb across her cheek as if in rea.s.surance. "Something I said similar before was misconstrued and I don't want that happening again. So let me expand. There is a fierce hunger within me that needs to be sated. I'm not a s.a.d.i.s.t, but I do like control. That doesn't mean I can't enjoy myself in the company of a beautiful woman from time to time and keep it vanilla."

"But if I want something longer?"

"I would never ask you to be someone you're not, Phoebe."

"I suppose now is the time to tell you what's in that trunk in my closet," Phoebe said, feeling her body awash in warmth at sharing her secret. She had never thought she'd find someone to understand her wants and desires, but he was standing in front of her and after having waited all this time, she wasn't about to let him go over a little embarra.s.sment. "You know, the one that I could fit a body into?"

"Are you going to tell me you actually have someone in there?" Lach smiled and Phoebe felt a shiver go up her spine. He had no idea the effect he had on her body. Or did he? "Is there something you've been hiding from me, Miss Socialite?"

"I-" Phoebe paused, never having been in the position to admit out loud her fetish. She'd closed her eyes to try and form her thoughts when she felt his warm lips brush against hers. The light contact had her confessing. "I love corsets. I love the constriction they give, the feel of the material, and the way I look in them. Because of who I am, I was never able to attend clubs like Masters. I've been to two in my life, but only as a guest, and they were in different cities."

"Did you enjoy them?"

Lach's question wasn't what she'd been expecting and Phoebe tightened her fingers on his arms. The material kept her from feeling his skin, but that didn't prevent his heat from soaking through. She'd expected him to ask where, with who, and what she'd done at these clubs...but he didn't.

"Um, yes." Phoebe waited for Lach to say something more and when he didn't, came to understand why he only spoke when needed. His patience was somewhat annoying. Actually, it was downright maddening but very effective. She didn't like that he used it on her and her tone came out a bit snappish. "Yes, I enjoy wearing my corsets very much. I enjoyed the clubs, but never had the nerve to play with someone I didn't know. Because of who I am, I had to be careful which clubs I attended and who I interacted with."

"Well, then. I guess that answers my question." Lach once again dipped his head and gently claimed her lips. It wasn't as pa.s.sionate as when they'd been in Iraq or when they'd had dinner, but more of a slow and sensual act. He took his time and playfully teased her tongue with his. The longer their kiss lasted, the more her desire rose. She tried to pull him back when he broke off their kiss. "Time for bed."

Phoebe smiled and would have hopped off the stool had he not stopped her. Lach was shaking his head as if she'd misunderstood him. She must have, because when he held out his hand and helped her down, he didn't follow her into the bedroom. It wasn't like she'd gotten far, only two steps, but he'd made his intentions known by walking around the counter and starting to clean up the mess they'd made. Couldn't that wait?

"Lach?"

"What do you sleep in?"

"Sleep in?" It wasn't like Phoebe was inexperienced, although she picked her partners carefully. Regardless, she felt her cheeks flush at the intimate question. Where was he going with this? "I sleep nude."

"Then go get undressed and slide under the covers." Lach bagged the to-go boxes and then threw them in the trash. He reached for her wine gla.s.s and it was obvious he was going to hand wash it as he pushed up his sleeves. "I'll be in to say goodnight in a minute."

"Goodnight? Lach, it's not even seven o'clock at night." Phoebe felt a spark of anger and it amazed her that he could make her feel so many emotions within so many minutes. He was driving her insane. "I thought-"

"You're exhausted." Lach placed the wine gla.s.s in the sink and then rested his palms on the counter. "You're putting in too long hours and not taking care of yourself properly. I'm not going to take advantage of the situation you've constructed. We talked. You know where I stand. Let that sink in, get a goodnight's rest, and we'll talk in the morning once you've had time to truly consider my offer."

"I'm not a little girl that doesn't know what she's doing, Lach." Phoebe tucked a strand back behind her right ear, remembering when he'd done so not two minutes ago. She didn't like this change of events. "You're basically saying you're going to tuck me in. I don't like the inference that I'm a child."

Lach moved in a predator-like fashion and gave Phoebe the sense of being hunted. She wasn't afraid and stood her ground, refusing to bend to this. She ignored the thrilling chill of excitement as he came closer, his eyes darkening with some internal need. The question of could she fulfill it quickly ran through her mind.

"You say that you're interested in the lifestyle I lead, going so far as to explore certain clubs in person over the years." Lach now stood inches from her, his virility almost overwhelming. She still kept her poise and refused to back down. Nothing he could say would change her mind about him tucking her into bed like a child. It wasn't going to happen. "What did you see when you were there at these clubs?"

Lach's question threw her. Phoebe hadn't expected him to put her on the spot, but to instead explain his actions and words after having aroused her to the point that she'd confessed her penchant for sensual styled corsets. He didn't just get to bow out for the evening as if he had something better to do with his time.

"Does it matter?" Phoebe asked, wishing she could rewind this evening by ten minutes. She was starting to make a habit of that. She reluctantly answered his question. "Men and women playing together and exploring their s.e.xuality."

"Dominants and submissives. They might have been expanding their limits, but if they were in a club setting, they'd already admitted their s.e.xuality to themselves and others...and are proud of it." Lach inched closer, causing the air to ignite with sparks. "You witnessed an exchange of trust. Dominant men and women taking care of their subs-mentally, emotionally, and physically. Those submissives willingly placed their well-being into the palms of their Doms' hands."

Phoebe felt her arousal rise with each word of Lach's description. The way he viewed the lifestyle and the people in it were erotic and sensual, yet his portrayal made her realize the layer of depths that were a.s.sociated with it. The picture he painted made her want and long for what he described. What did that say about her?

"What does that have to do with tucking me into bed?"