Page 7 of The Keeper

Fitz chuckled. “Don’t I know it. Come along, Miley, I’d rather talk over dinner—my treat. I’m not overly fond of Alinea, but I know for a fact they keep a bottle of one-hundred-year-old Macallan’s at The Franklin Room and I like the food better.”

“Sounds good.”

“You boys clean up the shooting gallery and maybe spend a little time practicing. You at least ought to give her a run for her money—or my money.”

Putting his hand in the small of her back, Fitz directed her back to the elevator that led to the main floor of the Cerberus/Club Southside building.

“Give me a minute to go change and I’ll be right with you,” Miley said, exiting the elevator and heading to the submissives’ salon, where she always kept a change of clothes.

Hurrying into the salon, she checked her armpits to make sure she didn’t need a shower. Finding nothing offensive, she changed into a pair of leggings, a shirt a few sizes too big which she belted in, booties and an oversized blazer. She checked her look in the mirror—not bad for a girl whose figure could only be described as curvy.

* * *

Dinner had been awkward to say the least. Fitz had told her little about the case he was assigning her to other than it was important to him, and it would be based in Charleston. Other than that, the details had been pretty sketchy: it was a protection detail, but an undercover one—only the man she’d be protecting would know she was from Cerberus. Fitz had let it slip that the man was an unattached dominant in the lifestyle, which should make it easy for Miley to fit in. What he didn’t say but didn’t take a genius to figure out was that she would most likely be undercover as his submissive.

Miley had zero concerns that Fitz was asking her to fuck for information or to keep the man safe. Putting anyone—male or female—in that position was just not something Fitz would do. He’d pointed out that Dillon had been in a similar position with his fiancé, Pippa. That was one of the things that worried her. Fitz was a notorious matchmaker. Granted, he was pretty good at it, but the last fucking thing she needed was anything romantic. She knew he’d been pissed about how the anonymous scene at Baker Street had ended, but she hadn’t, and god knows the Dom had nothing to bitch about.

Besides, she liked her life just the way it was, thank you very much. She was in control of her life and that meant she was the one calling the shots. She gave what she wanted of herself, when she wanted to give of herself, and for how long. She’d been left behind far too many times to want to get involved with some rich protectee. And he had to be rich, or he couldn’t have afforded Cerberus.

Miley liked and needed to be in control and was unwilling to form close intimate relationships. Her miserable childhood had taught her that. She’d escaped that by joining the military, which only served to reinforce those lessons. She learned quickly that people left, usually through death, but also through advancement or being moved to other units. There was a transience to military service that she hadn’t expected, although it had led her to Fitz and Cerberus.

It seemed everyone who worked at Cerberus was involved in the lifestyle and she had found playing at being a submissive suited her needs well, but she only played. No man had ever earned her submission and she doubted anyone would ever change that. She supposed she ought to feel bad about it, but she didn’t. The fact was, she ensured that she fulfilled her end of any contract and was always direct and honest about what she expected and what she was willing to give. She had been accused of being fairly mercenary and transactional about her dealings with Doms at the clubs. After all, it wasn’t like she put a gun to anybody’s head to get what she wanted. Her unwillingness to let anyone past her defenses had earned her a reputation as an ‘ice queen.’

She was walking into her closet picking out things to take with her when there was a knock on the door. She trotted down the stairs, peeked through the peephole, and smiled. Samantha. Fitz must have told King, who had told his wife she’d be going out of town. Miley didn’t have a dog; she wasn’t home often enough. She wasn’t even around enough for a cat, but she did have an enormous seawater aquarium, and Samantha always took care of her fish.

“Hey, you,” Samantha said as she entered Miley’s row house. “King says you’re going on assignment and wasn’t sure for how long. He says Fitz was rather tight-lipped about it.”

“Hmm. That’s not good. If the Scotsman is playing his cards that close to his vest, I worry he’s got something up his sleeve.”

“Fitz would never put you in a situation you can’t handle. If you’re worried about it, I can talk to King.”

Miley smiled. “Worried isn’t the word I’d use. I think Fitz is still pissed at me about the way I left London last time.”

Samantha smiled knowingly. “Ah, and you think he’s decided to find you the perfect man.”

“Well…”

“If he did, he didn’t say anything to King, but it’s not outside the realm of possibility.”

“You know there aren’t any of the guys at Cerberus who did anything different than I did…”

“Except for the fact that they’re Doms and you’re not. I swear if you identified as a Domme, they’d leave you alone.”

“I know, but I have no interest in leading in the bedroom. None. But I have even less interest in getting involved with anyone. I just like my sexual transactions to be just that.”

“And I respect that,” said Samantha, putting her hand on Miley’s arm. “I just wish you wanted more.”

“But I don’t. In any event, Vinnie will be by sometime this week to give the aquarium a thorough cleaning and make sure everyone is healthy. I have plenty of food for them.”

“No problem. I’ll look in on them daily and make sure they’re fed.”

“Thanks, Samantha.”

“If I hear anything about any ulterior motives, I’ll let you know.”

“I’d appreciate it. Want to come help me choose clothes for this assignment?”

Samantha grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.”

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