Read Online Re/Paired (Doms of the FBI Book 2) by Michele Zurlo - Free Book Online
Authors: Michele Zurlo
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could.
A series of chimes from her phone let her know that her mother was calling. Her jacket, which she had shed for the walk to the parking garage, lay on top of her briefcase. The phone was in the pocket. By the time she got to it, the thing had gone to voice mail. It was probably for the best. M.J. and his wife were heading out of town this weekend, and their parents had the grandkids for the weekend. No doubt they wanted Katrina to come over and relieve them from the rambunctious duo. No, thanks. Katrina hadn’t yet vacuumed out her car from the last time she’d spent time with her nephews.
While her standards of cleanliness and behavior might be higher than her brother’s, she didn’t think they were impossible to achieve. She loved her nephews, but she liked them best in small doses.
She shifted the car into reverse and froze. Something wasn’t quite right. With a frown, she glanced at her passenger seat. Empty. The cup holder that divided the two front seats held her cell but was otherwise unoccupied. She could have sworn she’d left an empty bottle of iced tea there. A quick survey of the backseat confirmed her suspicions. While nothing had been vacuumed, it had definitely been cleaned up.
It was unsettling to know someone had gone into her car and cleaned it out without her permission or knowledge. This threw last night’s scare, which had faded from her mind in the course of the busy day, back into the spotlight.
Nobody else had keys to her car. They’d spent the day with her purse, locked in her desk drawer. The extra set hung on a rack in her kitchen.
An eerie feeling crept up her spine, crawling with agonizing indolence and caramelizing into a bone-chilling fear. Who the hell had cleaned up her car, and why?
Lists of people ran through her mind, but she could think of nobody who would do it. She’d complained to Aaron, but he’d laughed at how uptight she was about those things. Keith knew she didn’t like a mess—neither did he—but he didn’t know she had one in her car. Did he? No. And he didn’t play head games. He wouldn’t do that to her, especially not after seeing how freaked out she’d been the night before.
Her phone rang again, startling her out of the fear cage that had enveloped her body. She snatched it up, glad to have the pseudo company. Right now, she’d take a telemarketer, anything not to be alone. The display indicated Keith.
“Hello?”
“Kat? Are you okay?” His voice sounded hesitant, like he’d planned to say something else.
No sense in telling him anything. He would advise her that she was working too hard, or worse—accuse her of manufacturing a reason to see him. She backed out of her parking space. “Fine. You?”
He didn’t answer immediately. She heard the radio in the background, so she knew the phone hadn’t disconnected. This parking garage had amazingly good reception. At last he exhaled. She wouldn’t call it a sigh, exactly. It had too much determination. “We need to talk.”
The frosty fear turned to leaden fear, the kind that pooled low in her stomach when she knew she’d displeased somebody. From his tone, she inferred that he’d realized she’d approached Dustin. Or he had more to say about last night.
After the deposition, Dustin had lingered to talk to her. He hadn’t reversed his decision, but he did tell her that he admired her courage in pursuing what she wanted, and he’d help her find a suitable Dom. She’d felt nothing but relief—and sadness—for the rest of the day. Finally she was making headway with her quest. One day Keith would find her good enough.
She gritted her teeth. “I think you said everything already.” It was too soon. She wasn’t trained. She had only a theoretical knowledge of domination and submission. And he still thought she’d lied about last night.
“I’ll be at your condo when you get home. Don’t be late.”
With that order, he ended the call, giving her no chance to tell him off.
A series of chimes from her phone let her know that her mother was calling. Her jacket, which she had shed for the walk to the parking garage, lay on top of her briefcase. The phone was in the pocket. By the time she got to it, the thing had gone to voice mail. It was probably for the best. M.J. and his wife were heading out of town this weekend, and their parents had the grandkids for the weekend. No doubt they wanted Katrina to come over and relieve them from the rambunctious duo. No, thanks. Katrina hadn’t yet vacuumed out her car from the last time she’d spent time with her nephews.
While her standards of cleanliness and behavior might be higher than her brother’s, she didn’t think they were impossible to achieve. She loved her nephews, but she liked them best in small doses.
She shifted the car into reverse and froze. Something wasn’t quite right. With a frown, she glanced at her passenger seat. Empty. The cup holder that divided the two front seats held her cell but was otherwise unoccupied. She could have sworn she’d left an empty bottle of iced tea there. A quick survey of the backseat confirmed her suspicions. While nothing had been vacuumed, it had definitely been cleaned up.
It was unsettling to know someone had gone into her car and cleaned it out without her permission or knowledge. This threw last night’s scare, which had faded from her mind in the course of the busy day, back into the spotlight.
Nobody else had keys to her car. They’d spent the day with her purse, locked in her desk drawer. The extra set hung on a rack in her kitchen.
An eerie feeling crept up her spine, crawling with agonizing indolence and caramelizing into a bone-chilling fear. Who the hell had cleaned up her car, and why?
Lists of people ran through her mind, but she could think of nobody who would do it. She’d complained to Aaron, but he’d laughed at how uptight she was about those things. Keith knew she didn’t like a mess—neither did he—but he didn’t know she had one in her car. Did he? No. And he didn’t play head games. He wouldn’t do that to her, especially not after seeing how freaked out she’d been the night before.
Her phone rang again, startling her out of the fear cage that had enveloped her body. She snatched it up, glad to have the pseudo company. Right now, she’d take a telemarketer, anything not to be alone. The display indicated Keith.
“Hello?”
“Kat? Are you okay?” His voice sounded hesitant, like he’d planned to say something else.
No sense in telling him anything. He would advise her that she was working too hard, or worse—accuse her of manufacturing a reason to see him. She backed out of her parking space. “Fine. You?”
He didn’t answer immediately. She heard the radio in the background, so she knew the phone hadn’t disconnected. This parking garage had amazingly good reception. At last he exhaled. She wouldn’t call it a sigh, exactly. It had too much determination. “We need to talk.”
The frosty fear turned to leaden fear, the kind that pooled low in her stomach when she knew she’d displeased somebody. From his tone, she inferred that he’d realized she’d approached Dustin. Or he had more to say about last night.
After the deposition, Dustin had lingered to talk to her. He hadn’t reversed his decision, but he did tell her that he admired her courage in pursuing what she wanted, and he’d help her find a suitable Dom. She’d felt nothing but relief—and sadness—for the rest of the day. Finally she was making headway with her quest. One day Keith would find her good enough.
She gritted her teeth. “I think you said everything already.” It was too soon. She wasn’t trained. She had only a theoretical knowledge of domination and submission. And he still thought she’d lied about last night.
“I’ll be at your condo when you get home. Don’t be late.”
With that order, he ended the call, giving her no chance to tell him off.
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