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He’d told Josh about the reason they were going to Megan’s house, but he hadn’t mentioned how he felt about her. But the guy was one of the few people who could read him. Scott was one of the most intuitive Doms at Phase Four, but Josh held the crown for being able to get into almost anyone’s head.
“Deal.” Eric walked into her bedroom first.
He leaned down and touched the black pad of the futon. Her scent, though faint, was still in the room. His dick hardened. The green-eyed beauty was in his every thought and the reason for his current actions. Never had he been so locked into one woman before, but he knew whatever he had to do to keep her safe, to keep her happy, to keep her with him, he would do. He’d quench hell’s fires and tear down heaven’s gates if he had to. Whatever it took, he would succeed at winning her heart.
He opened her closet door, and once again a pang of sadness for Megan washed over him. Two pairs of jeans hung on wire hangers—one so threadbare it should have been tossed long ago and the other close behind its sibling. Five cotton tops also hung in the closet. On the single shelf above were some bras and panties, neatly folded and stacked. If he had any say in things, and he meant to have more than a say, Megan wouldn’t need undergarments, especially when they were alone.
Eric started placing Megan’s clothes in the box he’d grabbed from the living room when his cell rang. He looked at the screen and saw Vicky Bates’s name and office number.
“Fuck.”
* * * *
Megan looked at the intimidating building.
She and Dylan were standing in front of Bergdorf Goodman. Men and women wearing the most modern and sophisticated clothes she’d ever seen walked by them into the department store.
She didn’t belong inside. Her outfit made her feel conspicuous, and not in the good way. “I can’t go in there. They won’t give me the time of day.”
“I have strict instructions, Mrs. Lunceford.” Scott had sent Dylan with her on this shopping event while he attended his meeting.
Dylan, with his dark suit and shades, looked more befitt
ing to protect the president than someone like her, but Scott had insisted. Never having been in New York before, she’d reluctantly agreed. Luckily only a few people gawked at them, and according to Dylan, they were likely tourists not locals.
“Surely there’s a Target or Walmart we can find while Scott’s in his meeting.”
Dylan’s manner was of a man on constant guard, surveying every nook and cranny, every passerby, every detail. Even so, there was an ease she sensed about him, under all the military training he’d most certainly been through. He’d likely seen action.
“The schedule is clear. First here. We ask for Nina. She’s got everything set up for you to try on. The Louis Vuitton store is next. Michelle is there.” He glanced at his cell and then at her. “Tiffany’s. Frank. Piaget. Kevin. Prada. Beth. Then we head up Fifth to the Hermès shop. Klaussen will be outfitting you with a particular handbag that Scott has chosen for you. Last, we backtrack to the Apple store. Our point man is Terry. There we will secure your MacBook Pro, iPad, and iPhone. That’s where we rendezvous with Scott.”
Dylan had a strange way of making a shopping spree sound like a covert operation. “That’s quite a list, but I guess men in black are used to lists. You’re the one who tracked down the hacker to my house, aren’t you?”
He nodded, motioning to the door of their first stop. “Shall we?”
“In a minute.” She had to know what he thought about her now. “Tell me, Dylan, do you believe I’m guilty.”
He lowered his arm. “Does it matter either way?”
“Maybe it shouldn’t but it does to me. Scott and Eric apparently trust you.” Her voice shook in her throat as her feelings for the Knights bubbled up to the forefront. “Please. It may be silly to someone like you, but it isn’t to me.”
He removed his glasses, which surprised her. His eyes narrowed and he didn’t say a word for several seconds, making her wish she could take back the question.
Finally, he said, “The only time we’ve seen each other was in the courtroom, at the mansion, and most recently in the limo ride from TBK’s office downtown to Fifth Avenue. That’s not a long time to determine such a thing for an investigator.”
She sighed. “I thought so.”
“But I’m not an average investigator, Megan. I’m the best. You’re innocent. I know it.”
Thrilled with his words, she hugged him. “Thank you. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now, I have a job to do and you’re keeping me from it.”
“Right. Sorry.” She released him.
He put his aviators back on. “After you, Mrs. Lunceford.”
Chapter Ten
