“You can unhand her now. She can stand perfectly fine on her own.” Damon’s tone held a bite of ice.
Simon eased her to the floor, still chuckling. “And of course I know her, Knight. I made it a point to get to know the girl who made the best biscuits and cakes. I remember she made you a cake. Chocolate, I believe. It was delicious. You wouldn’t know. You didn’t even try a bite.”
He’d hoped no one had noticed. He was allergic to gluten. That sounded stupid. It was just another bloody weakness. Naturally Simon lasered in on it. Damon was pretty sure the man blamed him for the reprimand that led to Simon leaving SIS.
“It’s fine. Not everyone likes cake.” Penelope smiled brightly, obviously trying to defuse the situation. She turned to the rest of the room. “Hello again, Mr. Taggart.”
“God, that makes me sound old. Call me Ian or bastard or son of a bitch. I answer to them all.” Taggart was sitting in a big wingback chair looking like a king on a throne, and there was a naked woman with strawberry blonde hair at his feet. So that was Charlotte’s punishment. He waited to see how Penelope would take it. None of the others in the room seemed even vaguely distracted by the fact that their boss’s wife wasn’t clothed, but Penelope wasn’t used to the lifestyle.
“Hello.” She nodded and smiled, but he could sense the shock in her.
Charlotte grinned up at her. “Hey. How’s it going? Sorry about the way-too-much-of-me part. I mouthed off and this was how Ian chose to punish me.”
“Yeah, because you’re so not an exhibitionist, baby.” Taggart petted his wife’s hair and suddenly didn’t look like he wanted to murder everyone around him.
The only other female in the room walked with a slight limp. Chelsea Dennis was dressed in jeans and a turtleneck, despite the fact that it wasn’t exactly chilly. She gave Penelope a tight-lipped smile. “Hello. I’m the non-exhibitionist of the family. That’s my sister, Charlotte. Only Satan calls her Charlie. I’m here to work tech. I’m Chelsea, by the way. And yes, I know. I’m Chelsea in Chelsea. Jesse already made the joke about forty times.”
“I think it’s funny,” Jesse Murdoch, the newest member of McKay-Taggart, said. He was a younger man with sandy blond hair and a ready smile. “Simon finally got into Chelsea, too. He’s been trying really hard for months to get into Chelsea.”
Simon reached out, his hand coming up to slam the side of Jesse’s head, but the younger man was quite fast. He rolled off the couch and was on his feet before the smack caught him.
“I’m so used to that by now.” He reached out, offering her a big hand. “Jesse Murdoch. I’m pure muscle. Like all muscle. How are you doing today?”
He was practically a bloody infant.
“Why don’t you kill him?” Damon asked Simon. He was a bit sick of men touching his sub. Oh, she might be fighting him at the moment, but she was under his roof and his command.
“Ian won’t let me,” Simon replied.
“He’s amusing,” Taggart allowed. “But if he doesn’t stop hitting on another man’s sub, I’m going to throw his ass to the dogs. Mind your manners, PTSD.”
There was a reason he got on with Tag.
Jesse Murdoch smiled down at her, looking impossibly young. “She’s not wearing a collar, boss. And don’t mind the nickname. My PTSD is way better. I haven’t tried to kill anyone in like a year.”
Murdoch was a stray Tag had picked up. He’d been in the military and gotten his arse captured in the Middle East. His unit had been executed one by one and even after he’d been rescued, there had been rumors that he’d turned. Damon didn’t believe it, but he also didn’t want the puppy making eyes at Penelope.
Taggart glared Jesse’s way. “She’s off limits. She’s Damon’s cover and everyone is going to respect that including you, Weston. I don’t care what relationship you had with the girl before. She’s his for the duration of the op. The minute I find one of you fuckers poaching, I’ll let Damon have you, and he’s not as forgiving as Sean. I told you that story and this one will not end the same way.”
Murdoch held his hands up. “You can’t blame a guy for trying.”
“I certainly can. I can also viciously murder him and bury the body,” Damon muttered.
“Damon!” Penelope said, frowning his way.
Tag laughed. “Oh, shit, man. They’re serious when they say your name with just the right amount of indignation. American accent. British accent. It’s all the same pissed-off wife.”
Penelope flushed. It was his turn to smooth over the situation. And how better to diffuse an awkward situation than by bringing up bad news?
“Did you explain that Baz is back?”
Charlotte’s head came off her husband’s lap. “I am going to kill that fucker. I’m going to tear his balls off with my bare hands, and then I’ll shove them down his throat.”
Tag put a hand on her hair, gently moving her back down. “You’re so sexy when you’re violent. Down, Charlie. Down. We have to figure out why the fuckwad’s here. Jake! Stop watching your progeny make poop and get your ass in here.”
Jake Dean walked in, holding his tablet and frowning his boss’s way. “He’s not pooping. He’s sleeping, and you’re going to wake him up. Hush.”
“Nah,” a feminine voice said from the tablet. “I’m pretty sure he’s doing both, babe. He smells so bad.”
Jake’s face turned tender as he looked down at the screen. “I wish I was there.”
A sarcastic male voice took over. “God, Jake, I don’t know if you do. I swear since he started on solids, I’ve smelled things I never thought existed. Hey, tell Big Tag that I’m sending him those files as soon as I change Tristan.”
“About time,” Tag yelled toward the tablet. “I’ve been waiting for days.”
A loud, healthy cry came from the tablet and Jake frowned. “Now you’ve done it. Bye. I love you guys.” He flicked off the tablet. “Give Adam a break. He’s going into the office every day and he’s had very little sleep.”
Tag shook his head. “He should have thought about that before he decided to have a kid. Now, since you’ve been MIA all afternoon, you missed the news that our special friend is back.”
Jake looked over at Damon. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
It was time to get settled in because it was going to be a long night. Now that Penelope was here and everyone had an adequate amount of sleep, it was time to start going over the operation and all the shit that went with it. Jesse and Jake were taking positions as crew members and would be leaving to join the boat soon. Simon and Chelsea would work on the boat as well, but wouldn’t join the ship until it docked in Dover.
“I’m afraid not.” He took the seat across from Taggart, another big wingback near the fireplace. Tag looked perfectly happy with a sub at his feet, and the image curled a nasty wedge of jealousy in Damon’s gut. It never had before, but he hated the fact that Penelope was settling in beside Simon on the couch. She was his, damn it. Even if he only had her for the duration of the op, she was bloody well his. “Penelope?”
She looked over at him. “Yes?”
“Your place is here.” He gestured to his lap. “I told you we begin your training now. Come along.”
“You want me to sit in your lap?”
He wished they didn’t have to do this in front of everyone, but he wasn’t about to back down. There was a reason to begin now. It would be easier to get her used to him now than it would be to get on the ship and expect her to fall in with him. And, damn it, he wanted her close to him and away from Weston. He wanted her curled up in his lap, naked, but he’d take what he could get. “Yes. When we’re on board and together, I expect you to be connected to me in some way. You’ll spend the next week watching Ian and Charlotte. We need to look as comfortable as they do.”