by Cara Summers
Mac put her arms around her friend and just held her. For a moment, neither of them said a word.
“Okay,” Sophie said as she drew back. “Enough of my problems. I think we ought to come up with a solution for yours.”
“You’re not going to talk me out of it.”
“I know better than to waste my breath. Besides, the more I think about it, the more I can see that this field-testing plan of yours might have some merit. In fact, it could even be fun if you did it with someone you could trust. There’s got to be someone I know—”
“Hey, you two!”
The sudden shout had Mac glancing down through the branches before she could stop to think. Lucas was striding toward them across the lawn. “C’mon down out of that tree. Aunt Jan and I have defeated the step-twins and we’re ready for our next challengers.”
For just a moment, Mac’s gaze locked with Lucas’s, and she experienced that same instant jolt of awareness she’d felt before. Then a wave of dizziness slammed into her and she squeezed her eyes shut.
“That’s it!” Sophie whispered in Mac’s ear. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner. Lucas is the answer! You can practice your research on him!”
Lucas? No. Mac shook her head, and a second, more potent, wave of dizziness hit her. Her hand shot out to the railing. It gripped nothing but air.
As she pitched forward, fear fisted in her throat, leaves scraped her face, and one image formed in her mind—the earth below racing toward her. Then arms clamped around her like a steel vise, pressing her against something hard and solid and warm before she hit the ground and lost her breath in a whoosh.
“Mac!”
Sophie’s voice was almost drowned out by the beating of her heart. As she struggled for breath, Mac became aware of the very male body beneath her.
“You can open your eyes now. You’re safe.”
The moment she did, she saw that Lucas’s eyes were just as dark as she remembered—the deep blue of the sea.
“Are you all right?”
Mac said nothing. She couldn’t. He was holding her so tightly, molding her body to his from breast to thigh. An icy flame was searing her nerve endings and sensitizing her body to every plane and angle of his. For the first time in her life, words, thoughts, logic, deserted her, washed away by a flood of sensations. The warmth of his breath on her lips. The pressure of each one of his fingers on her back. The swell of her hips. His body growing rock hard beneath her. She watched awareness fill his eyes as her body melted in reaction.
“Just what I’ve been waiting to see all my life—my brother knocked off his feet by a woman! I think it’s an omen of things to come.”
Omen of things to come. Sophie’s words and the memory of what she’d suggested—practicing her research on Lucas—penetrated the haze filling Mac’s mind. She broke free of the paralysis that had gripped her, and shifting off Lucas, she scrambled to her feet.
Sophie grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the tennis courts as she tossed over her shoulder, “C’mon, bro. Prepare to meet your match…”
CHAPTER TWO
LUCAS LEANED BACK in his chair and listened to the steady ticking of his grandfather’s clock. It was the only sound that marred the tense silence in the room as he studied the two men seated on the other side of his desk.
Both of them were self-contained. Both were very intelligent. And he wouldn’t relish going up against either one of them in a dark alley.
It was ironic that in spite of their many similarities, the two men were the complete antithesis of each other.
The younger was his best friend, the man he’d recently hired to head up security at Wainright Enterprises. He’d known T. J. McGuire since they’d served together in the Gulf War. Tracker was the name the flight crew had given T.J. because he’d been a hell of a lot better at finding their targets than both the high-tech radar systems and so-called “smart” missiles.
It had taken Lucas four years to convince his friend to come and work for Wainright Enterprises. He’d needed someone he could trust, and Tracker was that kind of man. Beneath the black-Irish good looks and the accompanying charm lay the strength and the loyalty of a Celtic warrior. Lucas ranked loyalty right up there next to competence when it came to his employees—and his friends.
The older man with the mane of white wavy hair and the impeccably tailored suit was not a friend. Nor could he be trusted. Doing business with Vincent Falcone had been one of the biggest mistakes his father had made. It had taken Lucas four years to find the money and the right opportunity to buy Vincent Falcone out of Wainright Enterprises.
Still, he didn’t want the man as an enemy.
A rustle of paper broke the silence as Vincent turned over the final page of the contract. Glancing up, he met Lucas’s eyes squarely. “If I sign this, I will own Lansing Biotech outright. Wainright Enterprises gives up any right it may have had in the past to patents or future research results. You’re being very generous.”
“I want the break between us to be fair but clean. This deal severs all connections between your various other businesses and mine.”
“Ah yes, there is that. And the fact that I will no longer sit on the board of Wainright Enterprises.”
“That’s correct.”
The older man smiled slowly. “You’ve done a thorough job of systematically cutting me out for the past four years. I admire your technique. And today, inviting me here to your home to end our business relationship over a drink…” Pausing, he glanced around the room. “It’s a nice touch. Very classy. Your grandfather would be proud of you.”
Lucas was careful to keep his expression impassive. He hadn’t wanted to invite Falcone to the Wainright estate. He’d never lived here himself. It was the place his father had lived with his last three wives. If it hadn’t been for Sophie’s birthday celebration, he would have worked as he usually did on the weekends and the contract would have been signed at his D.C. office.
“I would have enjoyed meeting your sister. I hear she is very beautiful.”
Lucas didn’t let his gaze waver, and for a moment neither man spoke.
With a slow smile, the older man raised a hand. “Another time perhaps. If I could borrow your pen?”
Lucas picked up a pen and handed it to him without a word.
Seconds later, Falcone rose and placed the signed contract on Lucas’s desk. “It’s a shame that you felt it necessary to terminate our business connections.”
“You have certain interests that I do not want Wainright Enterprises involved in.”
“Your father was not so particular.”
Saying nothing, Lucas rose from his chair and, after a moment, Vincent Falcone continued, “The connection between our families is still close. Like this.” Raising his hands, he clasped them together tightly. “For that reason, our paths will cross again.”
“It’s very unlikely,” Lucas said as the man turned away and allowed Tracker to escort him from the room. The moment the door closed, he sat down in his chair. It had gone smoothly. Too smoothly, perhaps? Closing his eyes, he began to run the entire event over in his mind, turning over every word, every nuance in his mind. He stopped only when he heard Tracker reenter the room.
“Nice job, boss.”
“It was too easy.”
Tracker’s eyebrows shot up. “The four years of work and sacrifices that went into accomplishing this weren’t easy. And you chose the right time to make your move. Vincent Falcone has troubles of his own right now. There are factions in his other, less legitimate business interests who require his attention.”
“I don’t like that he mentioned Sophie’s name. He’s quite capable of exacting some kind of revenge for this on my family.” Rising, Lucas moved to the window, but he didn’t focus on the sweep of lawn that ended at the tennis courts. “I have a feeling that Falcone is plotting something.”
When Tracker didn’t reply, Lucas turned to face him. “You think I’m overreacting, don’t you?�
�
Tracker grinned. “You’re not going to get me to say that, boss. You’re worried about your little sister. It could be because you’ve been going through a rough time with her. But in my experience, a man had better pay attention to his hunches or they’ll come back to bite him.”
“I don’t like that you saw her with Falcone’s son.”
“Sophie only met Sonny once for a casual drink in a Georgetown watering hole. She hasn’t seen him since.”
Lucas shook his head. “She knows nothing about the Falcone family and certainly nothing about the fact that my father was doing business with them. But if I try to warn Sophie off, she might take it in her head to get really serious about him. She’s in rebellion mode right now.”
“And you even end up with a black eye this time,” Tracker said.
Lucas rubbed his jaw, where his sister had landed him a pretty decent right cross. “You may be right about that. Sophie got past you last time.”
“She’s got some good moves. And she was pretty upset about that information you dug up on Bradley Davis.” Tracker’s grin widened as he moved to the small built-in refrigerator near the windows. Opening it, he took out two beers, twisted off the caps and handed one to Lucas. “She’s smart too. I think she may suspect she’s being followed. She tried some evasive tactics the other day when she left her shop.”
“Did she lose the tail?” Lucas asked with a frown.
Tracker nodded. “For about a half hour. My man picked her up coming out of a restaurant. I have two men on her now. Another two are keeping tabs on Sonny Falcone.”
“Good. I’ll feel a lot better when she’s down in the Keys with me. I’ll send the plane for Sophie on Wednesday. She claims she can’t get away before then. And I didn’t want to push.” He rubbed his jaw again. “Once you’re sure she’s on my plane, you can devote all your attention to both Falcones.”
“You want me to continue to keep tabs on your aunt and stepbrothers?”
“For the time being.” Lucas frowned as he turned and led the way through the open French doors to the balcony. Beyond a row of flowering shrubs, an Olympic-size pool gleamed in the late-afternoon sun. His younger siblings were engaged in an intense water-polo match with their aunt, and at the far end of the pool he spotted Sophie seated on the edge of a chaise lounge talking to MacKenzie Lloyd.
“I think you ought to put someone on Dr. Lloyd. She’s been Sophie’s best friend for years. They live about three blocks apart in Georgetown. Falcone may try to use her to get to Sophie.”
“I’ll get right on it, boss. You want me to run a background check on Dr. Lloyd?”
Lucas considered for a moment. He’d been thinking of MacKenzie Lloyd off and on quite a bit in the last few hours. When she’d fallen out of that tree into his arms, she’d called up the memory he had of the little waif in jeans and a T-shirt whom he’d met at the opening of Sophie’s shop two years ago.
There’d been something about her that day that had caught his attention. At first, he’d thought he’d imagined the tug of desire that he’d felt. But each time he’d found her framed in the viewfinder of his camera, the pull had grown stronger. Later, he’d studied the photos he’d taken, trying to put his finger on just what it was that had drawn him.
She wasn’t anything like the women he usually dated. His taste ran to tall, leggy brunettes and blondes. She was small, and she wore her red hair pulled back into a bun. But her eyes… Even in the representation on film, they were the incredible color of golden amber.
Today her hair had seemed lighter and looser—a reddish-gold explosion of color as he’d stared up at her in the tree. His body had reacted to her the moment he’d seen her, hardening, tightening. And when she’d been lying on top of him…for a moment he’d forgotten everything—where they were, who was watching. If Sophie hadn’t spoken, he might have rolled her beneath him and taken her right there beneath the branches of the elm tree. Frowning, he pushed away the image.
It had been years since he’d been tempted to be that reckless with a woman. He’d put it out of his mind during the tennis game, chalked it up to putting in too much overtime on the Falcone deal.
Then she’d beaten him.
Oh, Sophie had made some good plays, but Lucas was fully aware that it was Dr. Lloyd’s careful, methodical style that had been his downfall. It was almost as though she could predict exactly what he would do next. And that was…he searched for a word…intriguing.
“Boss?” Tracker cleared his throat loudly.
“What?” Lucas asked, turning to him.
“Do you want me to run a background check on the doc?”
Once again, Lucas hesitated. On some gut level, he knew that he should steer clear of his sister’s best friend. It wasn’t merely the strength of the physical attraction he felt that had the warning bells going off in his mind. She was Sophie’s friend. He kept his dating life separate from his family. To pursue a relationship with MacKenzie Lloyd would foster expectations that he would never fulfill.
Relationship? He frowned at the direction his thoughts had taken. Who was she that she could affect him this way?
Experience had taught him that ignorance was seldom bliss, and knowledge was always power. “Yeah. I want to know everything about her.”
“MACKENZIE, you’ve got to listen to reason.”
Mac opened a bag of carrots and for a moment allowed herself to picture dumping the whole bag over Gil Stafford’s head. Then stifling the image, she selected one carrot and began to shred it on a grater. She hoped feeding Wilbur, her pet lab rat, would soothe her temper. Gil was her department chair and he had ten years’ seniority on her. That and the fact that she worked in a lab that adjoined his had made him think he could give her advice.
“If you’d just listened to me earlier and signed a contract to turn the results of your research over to that biotech company, you would have prevented this break-in.”
Mac shoved down the little skip of fear that she’d been experiencing ever since she’d arrived at the university and learned that her lab had been broken into sometime on Sunday. The intruder had gotten away, but not before he’d broken into her office safe.
“They would have made sure that there were better security measures taken around here. And I still don’t understand why you turned down the money. Even if you don’t want it for yourself, think of all the equipment it would have provided.”
As Gil continued to pontificate, he strode toward the window. Mac privately thought the man should have gone into politics instead of science. Not only could he talk nonstop, but he had the tall, rangy build of an athlete and a very photogenic face. With the sunlight turning his blond hair into a halo, he looked like one of the good archangels.
The antithesis of what Lucas looked like with his dark hair and those midnight-blue eyes.
Lucas again. She hadn’t been able to block him out of her mind since Sophie had first suggested she use him for her research. The idea had been enough to put her off her serve in the first two sets of the tennis match. After that she’d focused all her concentration on the game. Beating Lucas had been a challenging and exhilarating experience. And the moment they’d won, Sophie had started making her case.
It was a good one. Everything that Sophie had said made perfect sense on a logical and theoretical level.
It was just that every time she thought of actually trying out her research on Lucas, she felt the same funny quaking in her stomach that she got whenever something was about to go wrong in her lab. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to forget what it had felt like to be pressed against him, to feel his body react to hers, especially a certain unmistakable part of his body. A vivid image slipped into her mind of looping a long strand of pearls around and around—
“Are you listening to anything I say?”
Mac dropped the grater as she struggled to gather her thoughts. “Gil, I know you mean well.” She was almost sure of it. But he was giving her a headache. Gl
ancing down at the carrots, she considered dumping them on his head, after all.
“Am I interrupting?”
Mac looked up in surprise to see Sophie hurrying toward her. “Who told you?”
“Who told me what?”
“Someone broke in here last night.”
“They did? Are you all right?” Sophie enveloped Mac in a hug.
“I’m fine.”
“What about Wilbur?” Sophie flicked a glance at the small white rat running circles in his cage.
Mac couldn’t prevent a smile. “I thought you couldn’t stand Wilbur.”
Gil cleared his throat, and the moment Sophie turned, shot her his best smile. “I’m Gil Stafford. I’m the chair of the biology department and I work in the lab next to MacKenzie’s.”
“My friend, Sophie Wainright.” Mac completed the introductions as the two shook hands.
“Perhaps you can talk some sense into her, Ms. Wainright,” Gil said. “The research she’s doing has been getting a lot of attention. It was only a matter of time until this happened.”
Sophie turned to Mac with a frown. “Were they after your research?”
“The police certainly suspect it,” Gil said as he glanced around the room “And it clearly wasn’t vandals. Nothing’s been touched except the safe.”
“No harm’s been done,” Mac said as she watched Wilbur attack the grated carrots she’d shoved into his tray. “Wilbur’s appetite hasn’t been affected. And I don’t keep any of my records here in the office anyway.”
“I still don’t like it.” Turning, Sophie paced down the length of the lab and then whirled around. “Lucas could send the Shadow over. On a personal level, I can’t stand him, but he’s good at what he does.”
“Not necessary,” Mac said. “The university is going to install a high-tech security system. They’ve even given me a few days off while they work on it.”