Page 10 of The Keeper

“I’m not only anticipating it provoking Frannie, but I’m also counting on it. And don’t worry about Miley. She’s better with a gun than anybody else at Cerberus, and her knife skills are on point. Not to mention she’s a black belt in Krav Maga.”

“If Frannie knows she’s a bodyguard…”

“That’s part of Miley’s suitability for the job. She identifies as a submissive and so knows how to behave in a club and as a part of a D/s couple. Frannie will see her as competition. My preference would be for Frannie to come at Miley.”

“I won’t have a woman injured on my account.”

Fitz chuckled. “Unless Frannie has long-range sniper skills, there’s no chance of that. If I had to assign a protective detail to JJ, Miley is the one I’d pick. She’s smart, fast, ruthless, and lethal.”

“I suppose one of the reasons I brought you in was that I respect your expertise. If you think this Miley person can help accomplish this more quickly, then I suppose I’ll have to agree to go along, but is this Miley person a trained sub? Is Frannie going to buy into her as a rival?”

Fitz glanced down at his watch. “Miley should be here in a few minutes, I’ll let you decide for yourself.”

Before Damon could respond, the double doors into his office burst open and first one of the security guards stationed outside flew through the doors, followed rapidly by the other. It wasn’t that the doors came open and the men were shoved through, stumbling as they did so. No, whoever the assailant was kicked the doors open and literally tossed two fully grown, muscular men through the doors so that they landed in a heap on the floor.

Damon’s eyes traveled up from the bodies, along the antique Persian carpet to a pair of ‘fuck me’ heels—a pair of cobalt blue satin pumps embellished with an enormous, jeweled buckle. His gaze continuing to move upward, Damon was treated to a gorgeous pair of shapely legs which were either bare or in the sheerest stockings he’d ever seen. At mid-thigh, a dress of the same shade of blue hugged the dangerous curves of a smoking hot female body. The dress was nipped in at the waist and flowed back out to generous breasts with a plunging neckline held together at the top by a band that was attached to the wide straps holding the dress up.

Damon experienced a tingling in his bones. Whoever this was, she was impressive, voluptuous, and gorgeous. Light auburn curls fell to one side of her body, tapering down to be even with the lowest point of the neckline. There was something familiar about her—the body, the hair, and as his eyes met the determined chin, delicate jawline, and sensual mouth, recognition hit him like a punch to the gut. Standing before him was the woman he’d had strapped naked to a St. Andrew’s Cross at Baker Street in London.

“Hey, Boss, you told me to meet you up here.” She pointed to the two guys who were sprawled on the floor, dazed and disoriented. “They tried to stop me; they failed.” The redhead looked down at her long, manicured nails painted in a deep navy polish with some kind of sparkly effect. “It’s a good thing for you they didn’t mess up my nails. I had to get an emergency appointment last night at Diamond Spa. If they’d been messed up, you’d be paying to have them redone, as well as a first-class plane ticket to Chicago and back.”

Fitz turned to Damon, grinning like the proverbial Cheshire cat, “Any objections?”

Stupefied for a moment, Damon could do nothing more than shake his head. Recovering quickly, he looked at the woman who had yet to recognize him, which was understandable as she’d been blindfolded the entire time. “None. She’s mine for the duration.”

CHAPTER5

MILEY

“Then allow me to introduce you. Damon Knox; Miley Stuart.”

Fitz was clearly enjoying himself, which was good because he was not going to live much longer.

That voice.She recognized that voice.

“Fuck me. This is not fucking happening,” snarled Miley.

“That’s enough, sub. I expect any submissive I collar to behave like a lady. That kind of language doesn’t qualify,” said Damon with a smirk Fitz echoed as he sat back as if he was about to enjoy the show.

“First off, jackass, I’m not wearing your fucking collar, nor will I. Second, bite me.”

“I don’t recall that as being on the list of things you enjoyed, but I can certainly accommodate you if you like.”

“I repeat, not happening,” she said pointedly to Damon before turning on Fitzwallace. “I’d wipe that damn smirk off your face, Boss, or I’ll do it for you. If this is your idea of a joke or some pathetic attempt at matchmaking, you failed big time. There is no way in hell I’m doing this, which you knew.”

“Miley, that’s enough,” started Damon.

“Fuck off, Knox; I’m not talking to you.”

One of the men who’d been lying on the floor in a stupor started coming around. “Now see here, miss…”

“You can fuck right off, too,” growled Miley, kicking him in the chin in a kind of uppercut motion and sending him back to the floor.

Knox got to his feet. “I said enough, Miley.”

“Don’t threaten me, big man. I took down your goons, and I can take you down, as well. I’m not fucking doing this, Fitz. I’m going back to Chicago,” she said, spinning on her heel, which with stilettos was fairly easy to do.

“You and I had a deal, Miley. We made a bet. You lost. Are you going to welch?” challenged Fitzwallace.

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