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Scott shrugged, placing his iPad on the table and breaking one of Gretchen’s rules by eating the bacon first. “I think Amber is going by the name the guys gave her when she was still suffering from amnesia.”

“Makes perfect sense to me.”

“Sawyer and Reed are swamped getting ready for the livestock auction in Fort Collins next week. Josh will be flying the plane. Dylan is in DC, according to his e-mail here.”

“What about Jason?”

“He’s sheriff, bro. He can’t give Megan the kind of attention and time we would want from a bodyguard. Besides, he’s busy sorting out all that Russian mafia shit that just went down here.”

“Agreed,” he told Scott. “Why you and not me then? Answer me that.”

“Neither of us wants her coming within a hundred miles of that sociopath.”

“True.” Their former employee was truly a genius, capable of more than he or Scott had ever believed possible. A man they’d once trusted turned traitor to the country they still held dear. Kip had also married Megan and screwed up her life. For that, Eric wanted to kill the bastard.

Scott drained his orange juice in a single gulp. “You and Megan need to spend more time together. I got the trip to New York. Now it’s your turn to get to know her better.”

Right now, he cared about making sure whatever asshole who’d used her Internet access from her home wasn’t still a threat to her. It might be Kip, but it seemed highly unlikely from a federal correctional facility.

“What do you say?” Scott asked.

“You’re right.” Eric would love to spend some time alone with her. “But besides finding out if Kip is behind the attacks on TBK’s system, I want you to ask him one question for me.”

“Sure.” Scott paused for a sip of tea. “Tell me what question you want me to ask.”

“Why was Megan still a virgin after being married to him?”

“That’s something I want to know, too. What kind of twisted bastard would do that to such a beautiful, amazing woman like Megan? God, I can’t stop thinking about last night, can you?” Scott had a sex drive that had frightened off many a sub.

“No, I can’t. But you’re going to have to chill, bro.”

“What are you talking about?” Scott asked.

“Megan matters to you, doesn’t she?”

“Of course.” Scott nodded. “She’s the one. Agreed?”

“Yes,” he confessed. “She is. You’re going to have to go more than five minutes without thinking about sex. She’s still very scared. We can still blow our chance with her.” Eric thought about how Megan must’ve felt being manipulated by Kip all those years ago. Her innocence. His evil. “Come to think of it don’t talk to Kip about Megan. Don’t even let him know we have her.”

Scott nodded. “I am in complete agreement to your change of plan. He doesn’t need to know a fucking thing about Megan.” His brother let out a big breath of air. “I won’t blow our chance with Megan. I can control myself. Can you?”

Before he could answer, Megan walked onto the patio in an outfit that blasted his yet-unspoken answer “of course, I can control myself” into oblivion. What remained in his head were a million images of Megan naked and under him.

She looked like a sexy executive with her leather computer bag on her shoulder. Her black pants and top fit her body perfectly, causing his dick to harden in his jeans. The plunging neckline showed just enough of her cleavage to tempt but not enough to make him send her back up to change. No way would he let her be seen in anything more revealing outside without at least a day collar around her neck. A collaring ceremony would have to come later, after a few more lessons. What really caught his attention were her red stilettos. They looked so very sexy on her. They would look even better dangling from her toes hanging down his back while he licked on her pussy, drowning his face in her sweet cream.

“What do you think?” she asked, spinning in a circle, holding her arms out. “It’s Christian Dior.”

“Very nice.” Scott stood and pulled out a chair for her.

“I must agree. What about the shoes?”

“Gretchen picked them out. I had chosen black but she said it was too matchy-matchy. She thought I needed a pop of color. They’re Christian Louboutin.”

“Gorgeous,” he said, unable to shake the image of her underneath him naked and writhing in ecstasy.

“Are you just saying that?” she asked.

“Do you think I would lie to you, little one?”

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