Tara turned to him, looking stunned. “After all the progress I’ve made, you still want me to quit? You think I can’t handle it, but you’re dead wrong. I’ll have you know that—”
“Down, tigress.” Logan stopped at a red light that seemed pointless in the sparse Saturday predawn streets. “I agree that you’ve been doing well. I’ve always known that you’re absolutely capable of doing whatever you set your mind to, and I respect the hell out of that. As the man who loves you, though, I’d rather have you out of danger.”
There it was again, his seemingly casual declaration of love, spoken as he pulled into a fast food drive thru. Nice weather. Pass the creamer. I love you. Tara shook her head.
After last night, they’d been as close as two people could get. It was only natural, she supposed, that he’d feel something for her. As he got closure and started to move on, he’d likely see that it wasn’t really love, not anymore. Even so, his words softened her.
As soon as they got their food and steaming caffeine, she turned to Logan. “I can’t back out. Darcy was my roommate in college. She lost her parents on 9/11. They were on the plane that crashed into the South Tower. She’d been an admin of justice major anyway, but after that day . . . I held her hands a lot, cried with her. I even talked her into joining the FBI as a way to honor their memories and protect others from suffering the same loss. I feel partially responsible and—”
“Cherry, shh. You may have given her the idea, but she followed through because she wanted to. Would she want you going undercover to save her before you’re ready?”
Darcy probably wouldn’t want her to go at all. “I have to. She’s tough and smart, and I know if anyone could stay alive in a hostile situation, she’d be the one.”
“You didn’t answer the question. Would Darcy want you to do this before you’re ready?”
God, he just didn’t give up. “No. According to her, I have a lot of fortitude but the heart of a marshmallow.”
Logan had never met Darcy, but he liked her already. “That sounds about right. Really, I want you to think carefully about this.”
“I’m committed.” She crossed her arms over her petite chest, looking as determined as he’d ever seen her. “I owe it to her. And I owe it to me. I’m not unhappy behind a desk, but I need to know if the field is where I belong. My life has been missing something, and I keep thinking that it’s—I don’t know—having an actual life.”
Boy, Brad had bored the shit out of her, and Tara had taken the blame upon herself. In Logan’s mind, she thrived behind a desk, solving riddles that most people would never fathom. She’d always loved puzzles and brainteasers, but this was one she was going to have to figure out for herself.
And it was his job to make sure she stayed alive long enough to do it.
“Then let’s focus on getting you ready. We’ve got four days. We’re going to need every minute.”
He parked the truck, and they both climbed out. Despite spending half the night inside her, Logan was hard as nails just thinking about the preparation she needed next.
As they entered the building, he grabbed her hand. She tried to pull away discreetly. Fuck that.
He leveled her a stare heavy with disapproval. “You’re kidding? After last night, you won’t touch me?”
“That was separate from this. I don’t think we should bring our personal stuff into our training sessions.”
Logan held her hand tighter. “You’re not putting distance between us when what we need most is trust and connection.”
Cherry gnawed on her bottom lip as she walked down Dominion’s long corridor, clearly thinking. He knew why she was backing away; she wasn’t ready to admit yet that last night was the birth of something new, rather than the burial of old feelings. He’d make sure she understood the difference soon.
“Fine.”
Logan ran his key card through the mechanism beside his dungeon door. It popped open, and he pushed it wide, easing her in. He left the door cracked behind him.
“We’re in the dungeon now. Rephrase.”
Tara didn’t look pleased. “Yes, Logan.”
But she was so damn adorable that he wanted to kiss her senseless.
“Good. What else should you be doing now that we’re here?”
She rolled her eyes and started to pull off her clothes. “What is your fascination with me being naked?”
He nuzzled her neck, running his tongue over one of the love bites he’d left there. “If you have to ask that after last night, I’d be happy to demonstrate again.”
With a frown, she landed a mock punch on his shoulder. “I meant Doms in general. Does the sub having clothes put them on too level a playing field?”
“Not exactly. It’s that subs are often feeling their most vulnerable and open when they’re naked. It’s a natural state, but for most of our lives, we’re told that it’s not. The Dom’s job, in part, is to strip off the artifice to get to the real person underneath. So in that way, clothes are symbolic. And subs are less likely to put on a front with nothing to hide behind.”