Page 33 of Under His Command

“I’m sorry for running out without an explanation, but the sudden unmasking took me by surprise. When you didn’t recognize me, I should have told you who I was, but I didn’t want anyone at work to learn about my visit. I’d heard about the club and was curious but decided not to stay and play. Regardless, I hope we can be professionals and put this incident behind us and go on as we were before.”

In her mind, he was a gentleman and agreed to her request. She refused to think about what she’d do if he didn’t, so she never came up with a Plan B.

On pins and needles, Cassie drove to work, and for the first time welcomed a slowdown on I-5 and almost cheered over the stalled car on the Coronado Bridge, which reduced commuter traffic to one lane. Both caused her to arrive with only minutes to spare before her new training class began at nine o’clock.

Parking in her usual spot, she scanned the lot for a familiar black F-150. When she didn’t see it, assuming he’d parked elsewhere and taken one of the five Jeeps lined up in the reserved spaces, she grabbed her stuff and hurried inside.

She had steeled herself for this first face-to-face with Flynn and felt oddly disappointed to find Lieutenant Eckersley, one of the other instructors there to monitor the men instead. His absence only delayed the inevitable and strained her already harried nerves. With a million questions swirling in her brain about the last-minute change, she managed not to ask anyone about it and got right to work.

The day went smoothly, this group of trainees catching on quickly. They broke for lunch at noon and finished at 4:30. She welcomed the routine but stayed on edge, watching the door anxiously. With each passing hour, when Flynn didn’t make an appearance, the knot in the pit of her stomach twisted tighter.

Apparently, she’d worried for nothing. When she shut down the systems at the end of the long day, she hadn’t received a single call or text. Was he too angry, or did he simply not care enough to bother?

Blowing out a shaky breath, she grabbed her purse and turned off the lights. As she left the building, she dug around for her phone. It took a few moments of futile searching in the extra bag she’d switched to that morning before she remembered. It was two hours north at the club with her wallet.

When she’d gotten home late on Saturday—or rather early on Sunday—her humiliation wasn’t over. Without keys, she’d had to wake the resident manager to let her in. She’d endured speculative sidelong looks, most aimed at her minuscule skirt and stand-up stockings. Convinced he now thought she was a hooker, she held it together while he fumbled with the lock. The heat of her embarrassment had scalded her face by the time the door swung inward. After a muttered “thank you,” she slammed it and set the dead bolt then rested her hot cheek against the wood while counting the number of months remaining on her lease before she could move.

But she had bigger problems to tackle. First, getting word to Jules and Colt that she had arrived home safely. With no landline, her only option was email, so she logged onto her laptop and dashed off a quick message.

Sorry I ran out, but I freaked. By now, you’re aware I left my phone and my purse, which is why I couldn’t call. I’m not ready for company yet. I’ll let you know when I am.

Jules answered right away. Relieved to hear you’re safe, honey. FYI, Colt is pissed.

As she was thinking of a response, another email came in.This is Colt. I’m not pissed. What I am is fucking angry.He didn’t have to tell her; his emotion jumped out at her through the screen.We will talk about this, Cassie.

She’d dashed off a reply.I know, and I’m sorry. Love you both.

While she was still staring sadly at the screen, Jules sent a quick message that made her smile through her tears.We love you, too—always. Everything is going to be all right. Talk tomorrow.

The morning came too soon after a restless, exhausting night, as did the knock on her front door. Without a phone to contact her, her friends came unannounced, although she expected their visit. But she wasn’t ready to face them. She didn’t budge from her bed except to cover her head with her pillow and try to block out the knocking that turned into a loud banging. She cringed upon hearing Colt’s angry curses before they finally gave up.

Feeling like the worst friend ever, she’d called him from work first thing that morning. He, of course, was busy training—something else she expected and counted on. So, like a coward, she left a message on his voice mail, begging his forgiveness for acting like a drama queen and a brat.

Her plan for the evening was to drive to their house and grovel in person. Facing Colt’s wrath and Jules’ disappointment wouldn’t be easy, but it had to be done to save their friendship. The inevitable scene was running through her head as she somehow made her way through the parking lot without falling into a hole or tripping on a curb, the whole time rummaging in her purse for her spare set of car keys. They had sunk to the bottom without the extra-large key chain she’d bought to keep this from happening.

When she finally dug them out and looked up, her steps came to an abrupt halt, seeing Flynn leaning against her driver’s side door. As always, her breath caught at the sight of him. Rather than his full-service uniform, he wore camo pants and a white T-shirt. He had his arms crossed over his chest and the long fingers of one hand resting on a bulging biceps.

There was something about Flynn’s hands, probably the size, big and strong, with short nails and those visible ropy veins on the backs that prompted images of them moving on her body. As she stared at them, his fingers tapped impatiently, only once, but it was enough to shift her focus to his face.

Like Colt, he was angry—correction, fucking furious—if his clenched jaw and the twitching muscle in his cheek were an accurate rage barometer.

Cassie stood unmoving, her feet frozen, even when he raised his hand and crooked a finger at her. She swallowed hard.

“Don’t make me come and get you,” he warned in a steely voice.

Her heart leaped into her throat, nearly choking her. She wanted to run away and hide, except she wasn’t twelve. Breathing deep, she took a tentative step forward. As she did, he straightened, towering over her: intimidating, dominant, and so damn sexy.

She stopped again. Flynn was everything she ever wanted but couldn’t have.

“Here, Cassie, now. I won’t bite.” When she started moving again, he added, “A trip over my knee is a safe bet, however.”

Her eyes shot to his, but his expression was suddenly unreadable, with a lethal calmness in his eyes. She’d almost prefer his anger.

As she came to a stop in front of him, she launched into her practiced speech. “I’m sorry for running out without an explanation, but the sudden unmasking took me by surprise.” Clasping her hands to stop them from shaking, she forced herself through the rest. Or what she could remember of it because no matter the countless flawless recitations, facing him now, it had somehow slipped away. “I hope we can be professionals and put this behind us and go on as we were before.”

He stared at her silently for a moment. “Rehearsed that all weekend, I bet.”

Her jaw dropped. In reaction, Flynn’s mouth twitched ever so slightly. With humor, she hoped but couldn’t be sure. “How did you know?”

---