Restrained Under His Duty (Dirty Little Secrets 3)

There’s a twinkle in her eyes. “We’re going to get married one day.”

“You already told me that,” I grumble.

“Good. Now you know it.” She gives me another big smile, full of attitude and sass, and then runs away, skipping down the hallway with her big curls bouncing on her back.

I blink out of the memory and a wave of heat rushes across me. What the fuck, Blackwood? Even as a child Hadley had been a saucy little thing, full of spunk, and so sure of what she wanted. I don’t know why that ribbon brought on the memory. But I do know that I need to stay clear of Hadley, because that’s what happens. She invades parts of my brain and becomes all I can think about. Once that happens, I crave her in indecent ways that would make her father’s head explode.

I refocus on why I’m at her condo, and by the time I settle the drawer back in place, I’m confident she’s not being recorded at home. “You’re safe here.” Then I look at her and goddamn wish I hadn’t.

She’s leaning against the doorframe, eyes directly on her target. Me. She begins to look me over like she’s imagined me in here just as I’ve imagined being in her bedroom. I can tell both by the heat and by the brightness of her eyes that she likes how I look now. That she wants me in her bed, as much as I want to be there, too.

I clear my throat. “We need to talk.”

“Sounds good to me, but”—her eyes flick to the messy bed then back to me again—“since we’re in here…”

I sigh and take the two final steps, closing the distance between us. “We don’t have time for this.” I grasp her by the arm, ignoring the cute way she laughs and how much I want to kiss that beautiful smile I see planted on her face. I smartly, and hastily, move us to her safe living room, where there are no wrinkled bedsheets and thoughts of Hadley touching herself beneath them.

When I reach her dark gray, fabric-covered couch, I realize she hasn’t joined me. That’s when I hear the refrigerator door open and shut. And when she returns to me, she has two coffees in hand.

“Here, you look like you need this.” She offers me a mug.

“Thanks, I do.” I take a sip and admit to myself that I don’t hate that she knows I take my coffee with a little milk.

Taking care not to spill, I sit carefully on a nearby chair, distancing myself from her flowery perfume. I take another sip, feeling some of the exhaustion she’s obviously seeing on my face. I got to bed late last night, and an urgent phone call came in at four this morning and I’m feeling the toll it’s taking on me.

“Okay…” she says, taking a seat on the couch, hugging her mug in her hands. “Now that your Mission Impossible moment is over, what in the hell is going on?”

I place my mug on the rustic wood coffee table in front of me. “Listen, I got word of something early this morning. You don’t need to worry about it, I’m going to handle this—”

“You know about the sex tape.”

I frown.

She laughs awkwardly, shifting herself into the corner of the couch. “So I guessed right, huh?”

I hold my mug in a death grip. “Please tell me how you know there is a sex tape?” No one on my team would have told Hadley without my permission.

She pulls up her legs underneath her and gives a long exhale. “Well, because yesterday morning a message just popped up on my screen along with the video.”

I slowly arch an eyebrow. “And you didn’t think to tell me about it?”

“To be honest, I hadn’t exactly processed what to do about it. Of course, I knew I had to tell someone…”

Someone? I want to yell at her, Dammit, Hadley, you should have come to me!

Of course, I stay professional and calm. Besides, I know what I’m about to say next is going to derail her. “There are reasons you need to keep me informed,” I tell her gently, wanting desperately to reach for her fingers dangling before me when I drop this bomb on her. “You weren’t the only one to receive the video. It was also sent to your father late last night and was intercepted by my team.”

The color begins to drain out of her face, and her eyes become haunted. “He didn’t—”

“No, your father hasn’t seen it. I would never allow that to happen.”

Instant relief washes over her face and her breathing slows, as she asks, “Is that why you came here and checked for bugs?”

“That’s part of the reason. But it’s also because a couple nights ago the senator told me he’s concerned about some corrupt politicians.”

“I think he’s onto something,” she says, taking a sip of her coffee.

I note the shakiness of her hands before looking back into her troubled eyes. “Now why would you think that?”