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What I wondered now was just how far they’d go to protect their own.
“Who was the person Lark saw at Club Darkness?”
“She was right. Jeffrey was a guest of another member. We didn’t look closely enough at the list of guests.”
“So he’d been watching her.”
“Exactly.”
I moved toward the window, staring out at the darkness. I had about a thousand things I needed to say to Lark, but she’d seemed so fragile after being rescued that I couldn’t do it. But the fact she was being forced to relive the nightmare ten times over kept my anger just below the surface.
She’d begged me to remain calm when the FBI had arrived, determined to handle their interrogation alone. God, what an idiot I’d been all the way around.
“If I hadn’t sent her away…” How many times had I made the statement in the last twelve hours alone?
“Stop it, man. You saved her. You’re the big hero. You got yourself a spot on the morning news.”
“What?” I threw a look in his direction. “What are you talking about?”
“Somebody let it slip you saved Ms. Winston’s life. Given the loss of two other daughters of senators, that’s big news.”
“I think given the circumstances you can call me Lark.”
Hearing the still husky tone to her voice was almost enough to push me over the edge. I wanted to beat the shit out of someone. Anyone at this point. I moved toward her and she gave me a sly smile.
“Lark it is,” Jameson said.
Her eyes flitted toward the television, and I almost bolted toward it, but Jameson beat me to it, flicking the TV off completely.
“How are you?” I asked.
“For the umpteenth time, I’m a big girl. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“That’s my job,” I told her as I rubbed my hand down her arm.
“Oh, yeah? Why is that?”
“Because I care about you. Because you’re not going anywhere. Because I’m your master.”
“Are you going to chain me to your bed?” she cooed and pressed her body against mine. “Big boy?”
“That does it for me. I’m out of here,” Jameson said, refilling his scotch then heading toward the door.
“Incidentally, we’ll have company for a couple days,” I told her.
“Oh, yeah?” she purred. “Then I have an idea.”
“Uh-oh,” Jameson sighed, stopping short before he reached the door.
She gave me a mischievous look then backed away so she could look him in the eyes. “My bestie needs a date for the wedding.”
“Wedding?” he croaked.
“Yep. She’s beautiful and you’re insanely gorgeous. But you need a tux. Can you handle that?”
Jameson turned toward me, his eyes asking for help.
I shrugged. “The lady gets what she wants.”
