Page 69 of Dare to Love Again

All she needed for companionship was Phin.

Her steps faltered as the name echoed in her head and thoughts of Finn sent a pang shooting straight to her heart. She’d have to nix the shortened version of his name. Even Phineas was out. Kitty would have to do from now on.

As she hurried down the street, with dusk falling over the city, she heard a familiar male voice shout her name. But she pushed herself harder, not stopping even for Master Eric.

***

AS HE JOGGED DOWN THEsteps from the owner’s apartments, Keiran combed his fingers through his damp hair. Though late already, he’d taken the time to shower and change. He wouldn’t subject Esme to the smell of his sweat or the taste of salt on his skin. And he’d never touch her with blood on his hands, literally.

The psycho stalker had resurfaced about a week ago, but his attempts to get their client’s attention had become desperate. He’d grown bolder. Today, he’d broken into her home and tripped the silent alarms they’d installed. Before the LAPD could blink, his men were on the scene, which turned into something out of a weird suspense thriller. The stalker had stripped naked and crawled into her bed, rubbing her expensive linens all over his body and jacking off on her pillow.

To make matters worse, she’d been home.

Lying in her tanning bed with the fan on, she hadn’t heard him break in, but when she’d walked into her bedroom and found him, her screams had freaked him out. He’d taken his knife—they still weren’t sure what he’d planned to do with that while naked in her bed—and lunged for her. They struggled, both ending up bleeding. Nothing life-threatening; her cuts were superficial, but the 110-pound woman had done serious damage with her acrylic nails.

Since he was first through the door, he had pulled her off him. It was enough for him to need disinfecting in the shower.

LA had plenty of whack jobs, which was good for business, but damn...

Now, he had to switch gears and settle himself, so he could handle Esme with the care she needed tonight.

Entering the lounge from the administration hallway, he stopped and stared at the mob scene in front of him.

“What the fuck?”

He scanned the room for Esme but didn’t see her anywhere. On a regular night, her bright red-gold curls would be hard to miss, but the frenzied crowd on the dance floor looked like a fucking mosh pit, and the overflow into the bar area looked eager to join in.

He frowned but seeing at least six DMs on duty, all of them Rossi men, he figured they could handle whatever this was, and made his way to the bar.

Samson walked up just as he did.

“Whiskey, straight. It’s been a helluva day.”

“It’s not gonna get better any time soon, my friend,” the big burly bartender informed him.

“What now? This scene is unusual, but it’s under control. Is there trouble in the dungeon?” He threw back the shot slid in front of him then stated emphatically, “If Dupree’s short of monitors, he’ll have to find someone else. I have plans.”

“Not anymore.” This came from Latrice on the stool next to him. She hadn’t been sitting there when he arrived; he was positive. “She ran out of here about fifteen minutes ago like the devil was after her.”

“Who?”

“Esme.”

He eyed her red leather corset and skirt, the quirt she always carried tapping against the side of her spike-heeled thigh-high boot. The domme was likable, did her share of volunteer work at the club, but often found herself in the middle of controversy, like a drama magnet.

“What did you do, Latrice?”

“Me?” she exclaimed, taking instant offense. “I’m no poacher. She said she was yours. The next minute, she freaked. Seems high strung, and a bit unstable, either that or in need of firm discipline. I’m willing to take her on when you’re done with her.”

“Did you tell her that?”

“Of course.” She raised her hands, palms out, when he growled. “What? I didn’t know you’d claimed her as yours. I didn’t see a collar.”

That was something he’d have to remedy. But first, he had to get a handle on his submissive and curb her tendency to freak out and run scared.

“What else did you say to her?” he snapped.

“Nothing. We talked about the membership and current events.”

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