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He chuckled. “I suspect with a masters in forensic accounting, the last thing you are is stupid.”
Coop turned and walked out the door, hesitating until he heard her turn the lock. Anabella Foster was all kinds of sexy, but he doubted she knew it. There was something about her that called to him. He planned to ensure nothing bad happened to her.
* * *
ANABELLA
She’d paced the floor for more than an hour after Coop left. Where was he? What was he doing? Why wasn’t he back yet? Was she still safe? Finally, just as she was about to unlock the door and go check for herself, there was a knock on the door. She pressed the buzzer and spoke through the speaker.
“Coop?”
“Yep. Just wanted to let you know that everything is locked up tight. Why don’t you go take a nice relaxing shower or bath and then go to bed? We’ll check on everything in the morning and I’ll let you know when you can come out.”
“Thank you, and thanks for believing me.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s what you’re hiring us to do,” he chuckled.
Taking his advice, she took a quick shower but did utilize the steam to let it open up her pores. When she got out, she made liberal use of an all-natural body lotion sitting on the counter. It was one she’d always wanted to try but had never wanted to spend the money on. Anabella made a good living, but not one where she didn’t have to be careful. The silky feel of the lotion combined with its verbena and vanilla scent made her sigh.
Closing her eyes, she indulged her senses and fantasies and thought about what it might be like to have a man like Coop rubbing it into her skin after a scene. At least that’s what she thought they called them. She’d read several novels that had D/s scenes and clubs but had never been in one before today, and technically she’d only been in one of their safe rooms and the lounge. She had to admit being the object of some dominant man’s fantasies and attention had become frequent fodder for her imaginings.
Anabella chided herself for indulging in such nonsense. There was no way a man like Coop or Seth would go for a girl like her.
Girl?She snorted, wondering at what age you should stop thinking of yourself as being a girl. Whatever age it was, Anabella was sure she was past it. Coop had told her to help herself to any of the clothing in the closet, but she’d long ago begun sleeping in the nude—it just seemed more comfortable and more natural.
Crawling into the king-sized bed, she slid between the silky sheets and pulled the luxurious bedding up over her body. Regardless of what happened, Anabella promised herself she’d find out where she could buy these sheets and would purchase some of that amazing lotion—her skin had sucked up the moisture like a man dying of thirst in the desert and had left no residue. She closed her eyes and could feel sleep descending far more quickly than it had ever since she’d taken the job with Blackwood.
The next morning, she was up early and looking out at the view from the window. Seth had assured her it was bulletproof and that no one could see in. She thought about putting her own clothing back on, but decided they were too wrinkled. Besides she still felt so clean and refreshed. She took Coop at his word and found a tank top and sweatpants that would fit. They weren’t in the least bit sexy or fashionable, but they were comfortable and that was of primary importance in the clothing she wore outside of professional encounters. There, she had custom-made suits and outfits that made her feel confident. It was a kind of armor she wore.
Seth had come upstairs earlier to deliver a delightful concoction he calledtres lechesFrench toast along with some thick, slab cut bacon cooked to just the right crispness. Coffee, orange juice, and one of those mini bottles of champagne had completed the tray.
“Wasn’t sure if you’d want a mimosa so I figured I give you options. Coop is making a sweep of the building. As soon as he’s done, one of us will come and get you. Did you sleep well?”
“Better than I have in a long time. Thank you for this.”
“No problem. If you don’t like it or want something different, ask Coop to make you an omelet. He makes the best ones in the city. Lock the door after me.”
“Are you that worried someone will get in here?”
“I think it would be very difficult. But the fact of the matter is, DoD contracts are big money. And if someone at Blackwood is committing fraud, it may well be worth a lot to them to silence you. We don’t take chances with our clients’ lives. We haven’t lost a protectee yet, and we don’t intend for you to be the first.”
She smiled and locked the door behind him. Sitting in the middle of the bed, she took a bite of the French toast and moaned. Damn, that was good. She opted for just straight up orange juice and water she found in the room’s mini fridge. Since no one had come for her, she decided to do a little exploring of the large room. It was obvious that it wasn’t used strictly for keeping people safe.
She opened closets and drawers and found a trove of sexy lingerie, corsets, and sleepwear. Surprisingly, it didn’t seem like it was made only to fit the high fashion models she thought probably frequented the club. It was the armoire and the ‘artwork’ next to it that made her feel a bit like Alice in Wonderland. What was contained within the ornate piece of furniture was all kinds of sex toys—some of which she recognized and some of which she didn’t. It felt odd to be looking at and touching the whips, crops, floggers, restraints and some other things she couldn’t even give a name to. The thought of exploring that kind of sex with the right man was titillating, but she closed the door. It might be decadent or depraved, but right now she needed to focus on the information she’d discovered, what it meant, and staying alive.
Survival had to be her main focus, with ensuring that the information she was discovering was, in fact, evidence of fraud and bringing that information to the attention of the authorities. Last night was the first night she’d had anything resembling a good night’s sleep, but she could still feel the tension in her body. Getting laid and having an orgasm would probably do her a world of good, but she doubted that was on Cerberus’ list of services provided. But it would go a long way toward helping with the almost constant state of hypervigilance and anxiety.
Shaking her head, she realized that she had put so much of her life on hold to pursue this case. She wasn’t sleeping, her eating and exercising had gone to hell, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been able to take a deep, cleansing breath and exhale it slowly. She usually tried to attend a yoga class once a week, but she knew deep down she would have been a disruption so had stayed away.
Her life had gone to hell in a handbasket, ever since she’d come across that little anomaly in that one spreadsheet. She’d found it at the end of the day and had made a mental note to check on it first thing in the morning. Only when she’d tried to do so, she’d found both the file and her access to that portion of the company’s data restricted.
As she secured the doors to the armoire, she looked at what had at first appeared to be some kind of art installation. As she examined it more closely, she realized the large wooden X for what it was—a St. Andrew’s Cross. She’d read enough books to know that people were bound to them while their partner used a variety of objects to cause pleasure and pain—sometimes at the same time.
She traced the lines of the X and felt the smooth, polished wood which contrasted with the padded leather on each axis as well as the center of the cross. Looking over her shoulder, she took a quick peek to ensure she was alone. It made her feel silly, and yet she did it anyway. She stepped up to the contraption and placed her wrists and ankles where she could imagine being bound.
“You look good like that.” Coop’s deep voice felt like a caress even from across the room. “Although it might be better with less clothing and actual bindings.”
How the hell had the man who had occupied her dreams last night managed to get in here without her hearing him? And even worse, the man looked like sex on a stick. Normally, she didn’t like her men scruffy, but Coop’s dark stubble did nothing to detract from his strong jaw and full, sensual lips.
