“Thank you,” she said.
He glanced at her. “You’re welcome. For which part?”
“For all of it.” She leaned an elbow on the counter and peered up at him. “I thought I was ready, but maybe I’ll never get back to where I was. I appreciate you staying with me and your consideration.”
“Consideration?” He dropped his fork onto his plate with a clang and turned to face her. “It’s called being a good fucking Dominant. I didn’t do anything except what a Dom worth his salt should do.”
She opened and closed her mouth, clearly taken aback by his words.
Kaspar leaned in close, propping a foot on the bottom rung of her stool. “Let me guess, next you’re going to give me the, Thanks, but don’t bother, spiel. Tell me you’ve got issues to work through and I should feel free to leave you alone.”
“Uh…”
“If you’d like me to leave, just say it, but don’t use what happened to you as an excuse to run away. It was wrong. It’s natural to struggle with it and have a few bumps along the way.” He wanted to shake her and hug her all at once.
Rosaline set her fork down, her expression a little shell-shocked. She stared at the counter a moment before turning toward him, resting her knee against his, hands folded in her lap.
“I’m a little—a lot—lost on what I should do.” She was a strong woman, but even the strongest ones needed a shoulder from time to time.
He took her hands in his and lifted them to his lips. He pressed a kiss to each knuckle.
“What should I do?” she asked, her voice small and lost.
Kaspar wanted to do terrible things to the man who had hurt her.
“Start at the beginning again,” he said.
“How do I do that?”
“With help.”
She continued to stare at him, and though she probably saw herself as broken, he saw a woman picking herself up and getting ready to try again. Last night might have been a hurtle she failed to clear, but he doubted she’d let the same thing pull her down again.
He picked up her fork, speared a bite and held it to her lips. She kept her gaze on him, and delicately took the food he offered.
“You have to make your own choice, but I would suggest enlisting the help of someone you trust. Run through all the toys you like, then start on the ones you aren’t as fond of. Play. Have fun. Take ownership of what you enjoy once more. But more than anything, it’s the trust you need.”
She chewed as she studied him. He’d have to talk to Fletcher, keep tabs on her for the sake of his sanity, though after last night it would kill him to watch her play with another. Especially since she preferred the public venue.
“Why not you?” she asked.
He gripped the fork. If only it were that easy.
“You don’t trust me. You don’t know me. And, I don’t go to parties.”
“You went last night.”
“To find you.”
“You found me. And I do know you. I trusted you enough to hack with you once before, and I trusted you enough to play with you.”
Kaspar blew out a breath. She would try his control, and she didn’t need that right now. He reached out and cupped her cheek, wiping a bit of stickiness off her face. “You also forget the chemistry.”
She closed her eyes and leaned into him. “I didn’t forget.”
“You need a play partner, not a lover.”
“What if I need both?”
“No.” He wasn’t about to compromise, or ask her to change who she was. It was just how it would have to be. He’d want her, and never be able to have her, not the way he wanted.
His phone buzzed, and as much as he wanted to ignore it, he didn’t have that luxury. He frowned at the number, knowing exactly what that call meant.
“What is it?” Rosaline asked.
“I have to go to work.” He just prayed this time, it didn’t involve a dead officer.
Chapter Four
Rosaline pushed her shoulders back and strode into the New Orleans precinct as if she belonged there. On the inside, her knees knocked together and she chanted, No, no, no, no you aren’t. Well, she was. She had to if she was going to prove her findings.
She took the plastic badge she’d printed for herself an hour ago and swiped it over the card reader, holding her breath. Would it work? She prayed it wouldn’t.
The light flashed green and the lock on the door released. She didn’t have time to consider the ramifications of her actions. Rosaline pulled the door open and stepped through, holding her breath. The hall on the other side was normal, covered in pictures of vaguely smiling officers in front of flags or holding plaques. There wasn’t an armed officer waiting to arrest her for the very illegal thing she’d just done.
Taking a deep breath, she strode down the hall, took a couple of turns and wound up at a bank of elevators along with a few other men in suits and a few uniformed officers. She pressed the down arrow and flashed them a quick smile.
The men in suits turned toward her, their curious stares not limited to her face.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” the eldest of the group said. His hair had gone white and he had a kindly smile.
“Oh, I’m a consultant for the computer forensics lab.” She held out her hand and put on her best smile. It wasn’t a complete lie.
The elevator dinged, offering her salvation. The doors opened—and standing on the other side was Kaspar, looking exactly as he had when he left her condo that morning. He didn’t glance at her, didn’t even acknowledge her presence, just merely nodded at the men and tapped a stack of papers against his thigh.
Oh, boy.
Rosaline stepped into the elevator and leaned against the adjacent wall.
The doors whisked shut and the car began its descent.
“I guess—”
“Don’t say another word,” he said.
She frowned at him, but held her tongue while he led her from the elevator through a warren of halls to another door guarded by a keycard. He swiped his and held the door, admitting her into his inner sanctum.
Several long tables took up the bulk of the room with jointed lights above. Three of the tables had parts and pieces of a computer or hard drives set up on them.
“Do I get to speak now?” she asked.
“I’m very interested to know how exactly you came to be here.” Kaspar crossed his arms over his chest, disapproval radiating from him. Well, he was a cop, so she should expect him to see in shades of black and white.
“Someone’s not only hacking you, they’re altering files and stealing key codes.” She pulled the card she’d made for herself out of her bag and let it drop on the empty table at the front of the room.
He picked it up, turned it over and examined the credentials. “If anyone would have looked at this, they would have known it was a fake.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t know what the cards were supposed to look like, so I made it up.”
He swiped the card through a reader attached to a desktop computer at what she assumed was his desk. There was a photograph of a smiling family sitting on a low tree branch. Most of them wore plaid and boots. Kaspar stuck out with his longish dark hair and black t-shirt.
“Fuck,” he muttered and dropped the card onto his desk. He sat down in a rolling chair. “Tell me more.”
Rosaline leaned on the table and set her bag down. “I think whoever this is, they want something specific. There are surveillance files that have been altered for cameras inside the building.”
“Which ones?”
She pulled the list from her bag. “I can’t tell exactly where they are.”
He glanced at the list and cursed again.
“What is it?”
“Evidence.”
“Uh, okay. Why would someone want to get into evidence?” After her brief stint as a malicious hacker, she’d stuck to being one of the good guys.
“What isn’t in evidence? Money, all kinds of drugs, weapons, anyt
hing. How many edits?”
“A lot. I logged all the files and dates when I found them, plus the times I could tell someone used the back door.” She pulled the file up on her tablet and handed it over.
Kaspar scrolled through the data, his scowl growing darker.
“What do they want?” he muttered.
“Whatever it is, I don’t think they’ve found it. Or else they’re looking for a lot of things. I think…What I’d like to do is put a tripwire on the system. Let us know when someone accesses it.”
“And one on the keycard database.” He stared at her keycard, but she doubted he saw it. His shoulders slumped and for a moment, unless she was making it up, he seemed defeated.
“I’ve already written most of the code for the trip wire. I can do the parameters for the keycards, but I don’t think you want me accessing personnel records.”
“What? No.” He pushed to his feet and paced.
“What do you think about the trip wire?”
“It’ll take time to do that.” He pushed his hand through his hair.
“But I’ve already prepared it,” she said slowly.
Kaspar swung to face her. “You what?”
“Do you listen when people talk to you, or do you space out often?”
He blew out a breath and once more shoved his hands through his hair. She wanted to run her hands through his hair, trace the strong lines of his face.
“No, I’ve got a lot on my mind and not enough sleep.”
That would be her fault. Not that she was about to apologize for last night. As awful as the end of their scene had been, when she crashed, he’d caught her.
“Have you eaten lunch?” she asked. He’d had to leave so fast, he’d barely eaten anything. No sleep, not enough food, it was a bad recipe.
“No time.”
“Well, I don’t cook, but I find out secrets pretty well.” She pulled two plastic containers from her tote, nerves fluttering in her throat. “You like chicken carbonara, no mushrooms, extra parmesan. And sweet tea.”
Kaspar accepted the food, staring at it as if he didn’t understand the gesture. She clasped her hands in front of her and willed her heart to beat a little slower. “I thought you might want to take a minute to go over the code and tweak it. But then I also thought I could repay you for breakfast.”
“Thank you.” He set the offering on his desk with her tablet. “Tell me again what you cooked up.” He pulled a second chair to his desk and held it for her while she sat.
Kaspar opened the food, and though she should concentrate on what she’d prepared to show him, she couldn’t look away. He pulled out the plastic silverware and stabbed a bite of the pasta. She watched his mouth, fascinated by his lips as he licked the sauce off the fork.
“That—is good.” He speared a second bite and turned toward her, holding the fork out. “Eat some.” It wasn’t a question or even a suggestion.
She paused, waiting for the command to rankle her feathers. Bossing her around in the bedroom or in a scene was one thing, but at work was another. Except, there was something about Kaspar. She wouldn’t call him nurturing, but he definitely had a knack for caring for his partners.
Rosaline took the bite he offered, rolling the flavors around on her tongue. She’d had the food driven in from a restaurant nearly half way across town. For him. Because she didn’t know where she stood with him or what was next.
Code. Computers. These things she was good at. And also hacking social media—for a good cause.
***
Kaspar stood in the living room of his two bedroom apartment, filled with boxes and watched Rosaline take in his new home. It wasn’t the luxury she was accustomed to. He’d never afford that on his salary, but this place was enough for him.
“I like how they renovated the place. It’s really kept the charm of the building.” Rosaline walked through the corner kitchen, running her hand along the butcher block counters that had been the real selling point of the apartment. A big kitchen.
He’d tried everything he could short of ordering her home to make her leave, and yet, here she was. In his space. His very unwelcoming, messy space. It was not the kind of place you brought friends, much less a woman, home to. If his mother could see him now, she’d smack him upside the head with her evil wooden spoon.
“Want to try tripping the system remotely?” she asked.
“Sure, let me just clean up a little.” He swept a random assortment of papers, dishes and other odds and ends off his second-hand dining table to make room for her.
He hadn’t expected Rosaline’s personal touch on this case. Not only was she helping, but she’d spent the afternoon in his lab putting the alarms in place instead of whatever high dollar job she was being paid for. After chatting, they’d gotten down to business and hardly said more than a dozen words to each other until it was well after time to head home. And she’d simply plopped herself down in his car, and here they were.
To say he didn’t know what to do with her was an understatement. She needed someone softer, someone with infinite patience and willing to go at her pace. He couldn’t do that.
“What—the hell?” Rosaline stood in the doorway to the second bedroom, one hand grasping the doorframe.
Kaspar closed the distance between them and sighed.
“Damn cat.”
He squeezed past her and reached into the large reptile habitat. The top had once again been knocked off by the one eyed cat, who lay curled up under the heat lamp while the three legged bearded dragon was pushed aside on his rock.
“You know you aren’t supposed to be in there.” He fished the gray, short-haired cat out of the habitat and placed him on the floor.
“Aw, what’s his name?” Rosaline crouched, offering her hand to the feline who peered at her with his one eye.
“Mr. Toodles.”
“Mr. Toodles?” She glanced up at him, laughing, while Mr. Toodles flicked his good ear and head butted her hand.
“I didn’t name him.” Kaspar reached in and ran his knuckles over the bearded dragon, who lifted his head, eyes mostly closed. “This is Fluffy.”
“Fluffy?” She picked Mr. Toodles up, cradling the cat to her chest and stroking his patchy fur.
“I didn’t name him, either.” Kaspar stared up at the ceiling and shook his head.
“Who did, then? Does Fluffy only have three legs?” She peered into the habitat as the lizard crawled off is rock and toward the heat lamp.
“They were named by some kids who volunteered at a rescue.” He chose his words carefully.
“Well, that’s sweet of you to keep their names. I’ll admit, I didn’t think of you as a cat guy.”
“I wouldn’t have a cat if he hadn’t snuck into my car.”
“What? No, no, no, you have to tell me the whole story.” Rosaline dropped onto the futon across the room and curled her legs under her. Despite her business attire, she seemed—cute. Dwarfed by the size of Mr. Toodles, who was a twenty-five pound beast of an animal with no discernible pedigree.
Kaspar opened his mouth, ready to give her the abbreviated version, except—she’d shared so much with him. Would the truth be so bad?
He leaned against the tank, watching Fluffy creep off his rock. “The town I grew up in had a bad accident. This plant blew up, and as soon as I could, I got some time off and went home to help. My family was lucky. We lived far enough out of town the explosion didn’t damage anything, but they set up a temporary shelter in our neighbor’s barn. I’d help out every couple of days. There were just too many animals, so I decided I’d take Fluffy, but Mr. Toodles must have jumped through the open window. I tried to get him out of the car, but he wasn’t having it. So I got a cat and a lizard, all in one day.”
“Wow.” Rosaline stared at him, her lips parted. “That’s—horrible.”
“It was.” He reached in and ran his finger along Fluffy’s back. The bearded lizard lifted his chin, mouth slightly open so it appeared to be grinning at h
im.
“How is everyone now?”
“Rebuilding.” He glanced at her. “It’s a small, Texas town. Basically a gas station stop on the highway.”
“What about your family?”
“They’re fine. They—well, we—own two of the main gas stations off the highway, so there’s always business between people fueling and stopping in for kolaches.”
“Kolaches?” she repeated slowly.
Kaspar chuckled. “My family’s Czech. Kolaches are a pastry stuffed with either meat, cheese, or fruit. We sell them by the hundreds.”
“So that’s where you learned how to cook.”
“You haven’t even eaten my cooking.”
“I’m ready whenever you are.” She grinned at him. Toodles yawned in her face, displaying his impressive fangs. The cat had suffered burns that would never again grow hair, but the good thing was that he made a rather intimidating guard cat now. “How does a small town, Texas country boy…well, turn into you?” Her gaze slid down his body, curiosity blossoming into interest he really needed to nip in the bud.
“Good eating, lots of running.”
“That’s not what I mean.” She glared at him.
He sighed and sat in his desk chair. As long as she was on the futon it was off limits. He wanted to peel the buttoned up blouse off her, mold his hands over her breasts, down her stomach and—no. Not going there.
“What do you want to know?” he asked.
“What came first? Hacking or kink?”
“Hacking, but that didn’t last long.”
“How’d you get into it?”
“There’s not much to do in small, country towns. While my classmates were getting drunk and mudding, my parents expected me to be studying. There were five kids, and my older brother and sister both made it very clear they wanted the family businesses. I took to computers early on. The hacking started because I was a bored kid, but I realized that if my mother ever found out…” He shook his head, leaving the sentence unfinished.
Rosaline tossed her head back and laughed. “Oh man, I wish I had been as smart as you! I was eighteen when this four-person FBI team raided our house. They marched me into the living room and made me tell my mom and dad exactly what I’d done.”
Taming the Alpha Page 30