Malcolm’s Promise (Doms of the FBI 3.5)
“I ordered another piece for the dungeon.” Malcolm lounged on the black leather sofa, his feet on the coffee table and a bottle of beer in his hand. He’d been away from home for almost two weeks, and in that time, he’d come to hate the undercover aspect of his job. Before he had a fiancée and child, being away from home for a month hadn’t been a big deal. Now it was torture, and not the good kind that he enjoyed inflicting on his lovely submissive.
Darcy set Colin on Malcolm’s knee. He held his infant son with one hand and exchanged the bottle of beer for one with formula. She left without saying a word, and that act spoke volumes. She hadn’t liked him being gone either. He shifted Colin to lean against his chest at the proper angle, and then he popped the bottle into his son’s mouth.
“I wish I could drink my lunch too. Your mommy isn’t too happy with me right now.” The operation had only been scheduled to last six days. Darcy hadn’t been pleased about that, but she hadn’t protested. It was part of being in a relationship with an FBI agent. To be fair, she hadn’t known he was an agent when she had fallen in love with him. She’d been pretty pissed when she’d found out, but for the most part, she’d been tolerant of his hours.
He spent the next hour with his son, a little person who didn’t yet hold his absences against him, and enjoyed being a dad. Of course, no amount of fun could deter the afternoon nap, and if he kept Colin up too late, it would spoil his bedtime. Darcy might not turn him away when he initiated sex—submitting to him brought her peace and pleasure—but her heart wouldn’t be in it, and he required her heart. He put Colin in his crib, turned on the mobile, and went downstairs.
Darcy was in her office, fingers punching keys on her laptop.
“Want to talk about it?”
She paused to look at him, opened her mouth, and closed it again. Shaking her head, she resumed working.
“Sweetheart, I know when something is bothering you. Let’s have it.” He steeled himself for her tirade.
Instead, a tear leaked from her left eye, leaving the blue brighter and more haunting than normal. She swiped it away and went back to what she was doing. “I’m fine.”
“Bullshit. You know better than to lie to me.”
Her frantic typing ceased, and she looked at the desk. “It’s too much to explain.”
“I have all day. Several, in fact. Comp time. That’s the upside about working undercover. I might be gone for a couple weeks, but then I get a good chunk of time off.” He pulled another chair in the room closer and settled in across from her.
“Unless they call you in.” She set her lips tightly together. “I wish you were just a computer geek. At least then you’d get to keep regular hours.”
“I thought you said my mom came by every day?” Malcolm’s mother doted on her grandchildren, and she loved doing anything she could to spend time with them.
“Either she or your dad did. They were very helpful.” She bit her lip until she noticed his scowl, and then she released it. “I accepted a speaking engagement. I didn’t want to, but they kept calling, and it would have been good for my business. So I gave in and said yes.”
Though she was a great public speaker, Darcy battled horrifying stage fright. Malcolm frequently helped her deal with that fear. He sat forward. “When is it?”
“Last night.” She burst into tears. “It was horrible. I froze. I couldn’t even go into the room. I told them I had the flu.”
He rounded the desk and pulled her into his arms. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” He’d arrived home just before noon, having finished his debrief that morning. “I’m sure they understood. This isn’t the end of the world.”
She shoved against him hard, pushing him away. He understood that she was upset at her failure, and she blamed him for not being there. His heart ached at having let her
Jeff Benedict, Armen Keteyian