With a smile, she rose, padding her way over to the suitcase Logan had packed for her while she slept. He’d been very specific before leaving for the kitchen to toss together some breakfast: No peeking inside. If she wanted to add anything—no panties allowed—she was to leave the items on top. Tara wasn’t sure she liked this rule, as if she were too stupid to pack on her own, but he’d sworn it was about expectation. Fantasy Key would expect her to have certain articles of clothing and other . . . items. And Logan wanted to surprise her with all the things he’d collected for her in the last few days.

Tara wasn’t sure what to make of that. She was excited—but scared. Lord knows what a man with Logan’s sexual leanings had packed for her.

Repressing a shiver, she brushed her teeth, showered, then changed into her street clothes, at least for now. No doubt, Logan would have her change those before they reached the resort. And no matter how unsettling all his concentrated attention felt, she had to allow it.

Gathering some of her toiletries, she set them on her suitcase. When she came across her cell phone charger, she dug the phone out of her purse to check the battery. Almost fully charged—but she’d missed a call from Adam.

Five thirty in the morning. He’d be up.

She dialed his number, wincing. What should she tell him about everything happening?

“Morning, princess. You’re up early.”

“Hi, Adam. Yeah, I am. There’s been a change of plans.” She drew in a deep breath. This part he wouldn’t like, for sure. “I’m meeting with Bocelli in thirty minutes, then I’ll be on a plane to Florida. There have been some recent developments in my case, so I can’t wait to go until Wednesday. I should be home no later than Friday.”

“You’re leaving so suddenly?”

“You know how this job is. You did it for years.”

Adam blew out a breath, clearly concerned. “Yes, but I thought they’d give you more time to prepare for your first assignment.”

“I thought so, too. It didn’t work out that way.”

He paused, and Tara could almost hear him gearing up his arguments from the other end of the line. “Who’s your partner for this mission?”

Her heart shuddered to a stop, then beat frantically. “You know I was assigned to York.”

“I also know he’s gone AWOL.” When she gasped at his spying, he rushed to add, “Sorry. I still have friends in the Bureau, and—”

“You’re checking up on me.” And damn it, if that didn’t completely piss her off. “I’m not a child.”

“But you are a novice.”

“You probably know exactly who Bocelli is sending me in with, don’t you.”

“I do,” he admitted. “I got concerned when Brad told me that shithead user was training you. The fact that they’re making you partner with him nearly sent me through the roof.”

Tara huffed out a breath. “I can’t get into this with you now. I have to go in a few minutes and—”

“You’re putting yourself in a position to sexually and submissively serve the man who broke your heart. He’s going to get inside your head and break your heart again. Just like last time, he’ll say and do all the right things. Then, when you’ve fallen for him, he will rip you in two.”

His words pierced her with cold fear and sharp pain. She was definitely having feelings for Logan again. If she didn’t put the brakes on them, he’d soon have the ability to total her heart when she crashed.

But Adam didn’t know everything.

“I’ll be careful. But Logan had reasons for leaving me back then. Reasons he couldn’t share with me until now.”

“Yeah, so the piece of shit had a reason he’s spent years spinning and learning to deliver perfectly.”

Tara bit her lip. She thought Adam had Logan all wrong . . . but he’d said much of this to her at sixteen and, for years, it had seemed that he was dead right.

The night Logan had broken up with her, she’d found a beautiful heart pendant in Adam’s car. When she asked him if she could have it, he’d given it to her and explained that he’d bought it for her, to serve as a reminder that her heart was fragile and deserved someone who would give it special care. From all of the belongings she’d packed up at Brad’s house, she fished out that necklace and slipped it into her purse. She had a feeling that while with Logan over the next few days, she’d need the reminder.

“Guard your heart,” he insisted. “Get in, do your job, get out, then get as far away from that son of a bitch as you can.”

She couldn’t promise that, not with the feelings she was having for Logan now, but she didn’t want to argue with Adam, especially when he might be right. “I’ll tread carefully and do whatever I need to, I promise.”

Plane ride to Florida—Sunday morning

Bocelli’s warning rang in Logan’s ears: Don’t appear to want Tara too much.

Logan knew he had to hide his need for her or this mission would blow up in their faces. But as she curled up against his side on the airplane, her cheek resting on his shoulder as she clasped his hand trustingly, he had everything he’d ever wanted. Too bad this situation wasn’t that simple. Ending this mission safely had to take priority over his heart. That meant he had to shove aside his desperate urge to tie Tara to his bed again and master her body until she admitted that she still loved him. And she did; he was almost certain of that.

He itched to get some stamp of ownership on her, not so that Thorpe allowed him to keep his membership at Dominion—although once they were together and Logan met Thorpe’s conditions, he had a feeling that he and Cherry would play there sometimes—but because he needed to make her his. And he was desperate to be hers.

Getting these sick freaks who abducted women and made them slaves had to come first. Then he’d deal with the fucker who had killed his mother and now threatened Tara.

But one way or another, Logan vowed that Tara wasn’t getting away from him again.

As the flight landed, she jarred awake, blinking at him from behind fluttering ginger lashes, her expression sleepy and trusting. Just like that, she made him hard again.

“Are we here?”

“We’re in Key West.” He dropped his voice to something barely above a whisper. “Once we step off the plane, Fantasy Key’s van should pick us up. From that point on, we’ll have to stay in character. I’m going to be a son of a bitch, and you’re going to have to obey. I’ll apologize in advance and tell you that, for the most part, this isn’t me.”

She bit her lip. “I just hope I’m ready to handle whatever comes my way.”

“Whatever you do, keep hold of that little temper of yours. Think about how every response will look to others.”


“What about that VIP room Bocelli told us about this morning? If women are being ‘auditioned’ there, like he suggested, it’s important we find our way in quickly and often.”

“Once we determine who sends out those invites, we’ll work on him. For now, be on your best behavior. I’ll be on my worst. If we do this right, this scumbag should come after you.”

With a shaky nod, she rose and grabbed her carry-on luggage as the other passengers filed off the plane. Logan knew she was nervous. Hell, he was, too. His missions mostly consisted of timing, precision, and blowing the head off of some terrorist motherfucker. When he engaged in combat, he usually knew exactly who to target. This would be different, especially since he had to protect Cherry first and foremost.

Logan stood behind her, staying her from stepping into the aisle by wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her back against his chest.

“Nothing I’m going to say or do here publicly is any reflection of how I feel about you. I need you to know that.”

Tara swung her gaze over her shoulder, meeting him head-on. “I know. And I asked for this assignment. I’m trying not to be scared.”

He planted a soft kiss on her lips. “It’s natural. Just remember, lean on me when you need to. I’ll take care of you.”

“This is my job.” Her mouth set in a stubborn line. “I need to do it.”

“We’re a team,” he reminded her darkly. “Don’t play hero all by yourself.”

Cherry gritted her teeth as that independent streak asserted itself. “If we’re a team, you need to remember that I have a role here besides kneeling at your feet.”

Fuck, she was right.

“I’ll try to keep my inner caveman at bay,” he quipped and reluctantly released her, following her, luggage in hand.

Once they’d deplaned and worked their way to the baggage claim, they found a driver in a black suit, his dark hair tucked under a cap, carrying a sign directing people to Fantasy Key.

It didn’t take long for their checked luggage to come off the carousel. Logan grabbed it and turned toward the driver, whispering to her, “Showtime . . .”

She nodded nervously.

“Deep breath,” he demanded in a low voice.

She complied, slowly relaxing.

“Better,” he praised, then directed her to the driver, who watched them carefully with dark eyes.

“You’re heading to Fantasy Key?” the driver asked. He wore a small nametag that read JORDAN.

Tara started to reply. Logan cast her a sharp stare. Instantly, she closed her mouth.

“Yes. Logan Flint,” he said, using the name Bocelli and the FBI had used when making their reservations at the resort.

Jordan set the sign at his feet, then glanced at the notepad he’d tucked into his shirt pocket. “Very good. And your submissive is Tara Cabot?”

“Yes.”

“May I address her?”

Logan paused. Even the drivers observed protocol. Serious stuff . . . “Sure.”

“Excellent.” The thirtysomething man, now giving off a definite Dom vibe, turned to Tara. “Do you need help with your carry-on bag?”

Helping Tara should be Logan’s own right and responsibility, but Jordan had a job to do. Normally, Tara would prefer to make her own decisions, no doubt. In this case, she made a small production of glancing at him, as if seeking permission. She was definitely on her game.

“Answer him,” Logan demanded.

Something about Jordan bothered Logan, probably the way he looked at Cherry as if he’d like to eat her whole. If they’d been traveling to this resort for real, he would have rescinded the driver’s permission to address Tara and growled a warning. But he had to play indifferent.

“Yes. Thank you for your help.” Tara rolled the pull-along in Jordan’s direction.

The driver took it. After Logan declined help with the rest of the luggage, they followed Jordan to a sleek black sedan.

“You’re the only guests who’ve arrived on this flight, so unless you need to make a stop in town for anything, we’ll be on our way.”

“No stops necessary.” Logan just wanted to get there, find Tara’s missing friend, and get out, hopefully after nailing the degenerates who farmed victims from a resort intended to celebrate what should be a deep and sacred power exchange.

“You’ll be with us for three days?” Jordan asked.

“Maybe four, as my schedule allows.” They’d left themselves a bit of wiggle room, in case they didn’t complete their mission objectives right away.

Jordan glanced at Tara in the rearview mirror. “Do you require anything before we arrive? There are cold bottles of water in your cup holders. I also have a few snacks, if you’d like one.”

Logan clenched his fist. Jordan didn’t need to ask Tara those questions; a good Dom took care of his sub, and Logan had already persuaded her to both eat and drink something on the plane. But the driver was interacting with Tara, gauging her interest in him. As much as it chafed, Logan played his role and glanced out the window in seeming disinterest.

He’d rather pound Jordan’s face.

“No, thank you,” she said softly.

“Very well. Mr. Flint, we’re aren’t far from the dock. We’ll take a twenty-minute boat ride to our private island. We have a dressing area there. You’ll have the opportunity to change her clothes. Submissives are not permitted to wear shoes unless scening, house rules.”

Already this place felt strange. The rules were definitely more lax at Dominion and put more control in the hands of the individual Doms. He had an inkling there would be more surprises once they arrived at Fantasy Key.

“Can you tell me a bit about what we can expect after arrival? I would like the opportunity to rest and speak with my slave in private before engaging with others.”

“After check-in and orientation for all the new resort guests, in which we’ll review the basic rules, there will be time to rest. After dinner, you’ll be escorted around the various play areas, then asked to scene for your guide, to ensure you’re capable of following the resort’s rules.”



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