“You do that now, Lieutenant.” Again, his lips brushed hers. “I’ll get a start in the lab with this swipe. An hour will do it, then you’ll eat. That’s nonnegotiable.”
“I have to find the building.”
“And we’ll focus on that after a meal. I’m in this, too. The boy? Mouser? Looking at him was like looking at pieces of myself in the past.”
“Fake beggar’s license.”
“Well now, even at that age, I’d’ve done a better job there, but … I was about to say he’d learn.”
She laughed again and held him close.
“Instead we’ll aim him in another direction. Oh, and I’m to get a lawyer for Dorian so she can—I quote—sue the shit out of Truman. I’m pleased you ran with that idea.”
“It was a good one. It’s not the money.”
“She’ll see the system can work, and those who abuse authority can be punished. Now.” He got to his feet, pulled Eve to hers. “Let’s get to it, as I’ve a yen for that spaghetti and meatballs.”
“Thanks.” Still holding the cat, she leaned in one last time. “Thanks for not coddling me.”
“I know my cop.”
When he left, she stood another moment, nuzzling the cat. Steadier, she decided, she felt a lot steadier. “Thanks.” She pressed a kiss to the cat’s head as she carried him to her sleep chair. “I’m okay, and I’ve got work.”
And no, they wouldn’t break her, she thought as she walked to her command center. She’d damn well break them.
* * *
While Eve wrote her report, Jonah K. Devereaux examined his newest possession.
The female he’d decided to call Luna had beautiful, perfect skin the color of midnight and eyes of almost feral green. She stood straight, naked but for her collar as he studied her. He approved the slashing, razor-sharp cheekbones, the full lips dyed a bold and blooming red. Her hair tumbled to her shoulders, all glossy black curls touched with that same bold red.
They’d augmented her breasts, but subtly. He didn’t care for overstatements. Long legs, good muscle tone throughout, slim, but not thin.
“Teeth,” he said, and she opened those full lips so he could check them.
White and perfect.
He circled her, found no flaws, and decided Iris had done it again. The woman was a treasure, no question.
Luna—yes, he enjoyed the name—had come from Tunisia, taken at the age of fourteen and shipped, along with others on that acquisition trip, to New York for her training. Iris’s meticulous accounting listed precisely what financial outlay had gone into her—the dental work, the breast work, and so on, and what the investment had earned through photographs, vids, rentals.
All of that had proved lucrative enough to keep her rather than sell. Now at twenty, he considered her prime for his purposes. He preferred the experienced slave, and one he’d have to discipline only rarely.
“You’re Luna. Who am I?”
“You are my master.”
He smiled, pleased with the musical touch of accent on her precise English.
“Why are you here?”
“To serve at your pleasure in all things.”
“And if you serve me well, I’ll treat you well. I have no desire to mar your beauty. This is my room. You only enter it when I bid it. You’ll wear what I give you to wear, eat what I give you to eat. I may, on occasion, share you with others.”
He turned to circle her again, and didn’t see the momentary despair in her eyes.
“If you displease me, I’ll hurt you. If you anger me, I may kill you. You are mine to do with as I wish. When I have no desire for you, you’ll remain in your suite of rooms. You are not to leave them until I deem you’ve earned that privilege.
“Do you understand?”
“I understand, Master. I am your property, and grateful to serve you.”
“Good. Get on the bed. I’m going to fuck you now. I like enthusiasm.”
He used her, then took a pill to revive himself so he could use her again. He liked the feel of her, the sound of her moans and gasps.
Pleased, he ordered her on her knees to test her oral skills, and as she served him—and very well—he decided to send Iris flowers, with something shiny tucked into them.
“You’ll do, Luna, for now.” He gave her breast what he considered an affectionate squeeze. He went to his intercom and signaled one of his domestics.
The blonde in a red skin suit and collar answered promptly. “You’re to show Luna to her quarters. She may have a meal. A salad, some grilled halibut, brown rice, and asparagus.”