Intent to Seduce & A Glimpse of Fire

by Cara Summers

  She’d bought it Monday on that shopping trip with Mac. The green color went particularly well with the red wig she was wearing tonight. When she’d walked through the lobby of the hotel and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she’d been amazed at her resemblance to Mac.

  Lifting her glass, she took a sip. Tonight she was MacKenzie Lloyd and not Sophie Wainright, and she was going to have a good time.

  The concierge at her hotel had been right on the money with his recommendation. The Side Street Grill was crowded with people, mostly singles, or at least pretending to be. The last man she’d danced with had forgotten to take off his wedding ring. Tables circled a dance floor, and on the second level, pressed against a balcony railing. On one wall, tall glass windows looked out on a patio lit with Chinese lanterns.

  She caught herself rubbing the back of her neck again and immediately dropped her hand to her lap. She was being ridiculous, paranoid. Gripping her wineglass between her fingers, she began to turn it in slow circles on the bar.

  Why not admit the truth? She was bored. Lifting her wineglass, she licked a drop off the rim, then set it back down.

  Perhaps she should go back to D.C. If only Mac were here to talk to, or even— She set the glass down so fast she nearly overturned it. She couldn’t be wishing that the Shadow were here, could she?

  Definitely not! She wanted to torture the man, slowly, not…what? She certainly wasn’t thinking of using some of Mac’s research on him! She didn’t know anything about him, other than that he was big, bigger than Lucas even. And strong. Smart too. When she’d cooled down enough to read the file he’d compiled on Bradley, she’d found his report thorough, well written and concise.

  And he’d held her when she’d cried. A lot of men couldn’t stand a woman’s tears, but the Shadow hadn’t been fazed.

  She ran her finger around the rim of her wineglass. Well, she certainly wasn’t going to soften toward him because of that.

  And if she was wishing him here, it was just because it would give her great satisfaction to give him the slip again. Although if she were to consider using Mac’s research on him… She ran her finger around the top of her wineglass again. There was more than one way to torture a man. She dipped her finger into the wine, then licked the drops off.

  “I’ve never seen anyone do quite so many things to a wineglass without actually drinking the wine.”

  Sophie froze in her chair. Damn! She knew that voice— Sonny Falcone. Had he recognized her in spite of the wig? How would she explain that she’d told him she’d had to work on her presentation?

  “Why don’t you let me buy you a fresh glass? I can recommend one from a local vineyard.”

  He hadn’t recognized her. But he still might.

  Pushing down the nerves in her stomach, Sophie turned. “No thank you. One is my limit, and I made the mistake of ordering a second one.”

  “You know, I have the funniest feeling we’ve met before. And that’s not a pickup line. You remind me of someone…”

  “I do that to a lot of people. But we haven’t met. I just arrived in California today.”

  “It’s probably the lighting in this place. But I can see I was mistaken. If I’d seen you before, I wouldn’t have forgotten your face.”

  Oh, please! What had she ever seen in this man? Had her breakup from Bradley made her this blind? This desperate?

  “If I can’t buy you a glass a wine, perhaps I could persuade you to dance?”

  “I’d love to dance.” She risked a quick meeting of eyes and felt the nerves settle. He still didn’t recognize her. And she would make sure that he didn’t. “But first I need to freshen up.”

  “I’ll be waiting right here.”

  For longer than you’d probably like. Sliding from the stool, Sophie threaded her way through the crowd in the direction of the ladies’ room. But she didn’t go inside when she reached it. Instead, she pulled open the door next to it marked Exit. The cool night air was refreshing after the smoky closeness of the bar. Drawing it in, she hurried down the path to the parking lot.

  A glance at her watch told her she could still catch the red-eye. Her decision made, she suddenly felt free. Happy. There was only one thing she regretted. She was going to head back to D.C. without ever going up in that hot-air balloon.

  But there had to be places to take a balloon ride in Maryland or Virginia. It would be a nice wild-goose chase to take the Shadow on. She was still thinking of that, laughing almost, when she reached her car.

  It all happened very quickly. Arms grabbing her, holding her tight. A prick in her arm, and darkness swallowing her up.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  MOONLIGHT POOLED on the bed, spilling over Mac as she slept.

  Mac. Propping himself up on an elbow, Lucas shifted slightly so that he could see her better. She’d fallen sound asleep in the taxi on the way home from the bar. The last thing she’d said to him before she snuggled her head against his shoulder was that since he’d enjoyed the pearls, she knew he would love being wrapped in plastic wrap.

  “Plastic wrap?” he’d asked.

  “Mummification,” she mumbled against his shirt. “It turns some men on. You can’t move. I can. I can do anything I want. I bet you’ll like it.”

  “I don’t think I’ll enjoy smothering to death.”

  “You won’t.” She’d giggled then and yawned. “I’ll leave your mouth and nose free and, I think, one other part of you. Maybe I’ll use the pearls again.” He felt her mouth curve against his chest as she moved her hand from where it rested against his chest to the waistband of his slacks. He gripped it there.

  “The picture is becoming clearer.”

  “The moment you told me you weren’t wearing any boxers or briefs, I knew I had to try the pearls. And they worked.”

  They worked all right. Just thinking of the way she’d looped them around his erection and drawn them slowly upward…

  She’d moved then, wiggling against him, exactly where he’d grown very hard. “I bet you’ll enjoy the plastic wrap too. I packed a whole roll. We can do it right after we get back to the hotel.”

  But they hadn’t gotten to it. They hadn’t gotten to anything. Yet.

  MacKenzie Lloyd slept like a rock. He’d had to carry her into the hotel, and he hadn’t had the heart to wake her when they reached the suite. As he’d undressed her and tucked her in, he’d noticed the dark smudges under her eyes. She was exhausted.

  And no wonder. When he thought of what they’d done on that pool table. They’d taken turns, and when she’d suggested a position he’d never heard of before, they’d even compromised. He was going to have to get a hold of her research. He certainly was never going to be able to concentrate on his pool game again.

  Because he couldn’t help himself, he brushed one finger lightly over the fullness of her bottom lip.

  At last he’d met the real MacKenzie Lloyd. And if the glimpses that he’d caught of her before had intrigued him and surprised him, the real deal fascinated him. She played pool as if she’d been raised in a pool hall. Yet he’d seen traces of the scientist too, in the way she set up her shots and measured the angles, almost as if she was solving some kind of problem.

  He reached out to brush a curl back from her forehead. But it wasn’t just the logical side of her brain that he admired. It was the imaginative side that quite literally had knocked his socks off.

  And when she set out to seduce him, she drove him…crazy.

  Tracing a finger down the soft curve of her cheek, he smiled. Who would have thought that the prim and proper Dr. Lloyd had an alter ego who was wicked and wild?

  But then he’d never thought of himself as a man who could get caught up in wild fantasies or risky sexual games. What they’d done tonight had been plenty risky—but fun.

  Anything might be fun with Mac.

  Except for the plastic-wrap thing. He was going to have to draw the line at being rolled up in that. Then suddenly he grinned. Perhaps he’d h
ave to turn the tables on her and see just how much she liked “mummification.” He traced a finger lightly down her throat and over the rise of one breast until he let it rest on the peak. Of course, he’d have to leave some parts free.

  As the images began to fill his mind, he shook his head to clear it. If he allowed himself to pursue that fantasy, he wouldn’t let her sleep. He wouldn’t get any sleep himself. And they would have plenty of time.

  Time. Just that one word sent the first little ripple of unease through him.

  He wanted to go on seeing Mac. And he could. There was nothing to prevent their spending more time together when they returned to D.C. He could picture her there even now. In his apartment, in his office…in his life?

  The direction his thoughts were taking had the ripple of unease growing into a full-blown wave.

  As quietly as he could, Lucas slipped from beneath the sheet and eased himself up from the bed. After glancing back once to make sure that she hadn’t stirred, Lucas pulled on his slacks and let himself out of the bedroom.

  Moonlight streamed into the large sitting area, bright enough to have him squinting a little as he crossed to the bar and poured himself a snifter of brandy. He had to think, to plan. Somehow, lying there beside Mac, he’d stopped doing that. He’d felt so—he struggled to find the right word—content.

  Lifting the glass to his lips, he took a long swallow and welcomed the burn as it slid down his throat. He didn’t want to feel that way. It didn’t last. There was no one that you could allow yourself to depend on that much. Those were the rules he’d lived by. Survived by.

  Moving to the balcony door, he opened it and slipped through. The moon was full and bright. Beneath it, the ocean was black, laced with flashes of silver. His granddad had told him once that the sea was a lot like life—always dangerous, often surprising and, every so often, magical. For a while he stood there, just concentrating on the flashes of silver.

  What would Mac think if he told her he wanted her in his life once they got back to D.C.? Somehow, he didn’t think she’d be any more pleased with the idea than he was. He took another taste of his brandy, just a sip this time. She might run.

  He would catch her.

  Or she might come on this very balcony to get her courage revved up. He’d recognized, though, that she had no understanding at all of how really brave she was.

  Surely brave enough to take the same risk he was taking. And if she wasn’t, he’d just have to convince her. He smiled slowly. With plastic wrap, if nothing else worked.

  Tossing off the rest of his brandy, Lucas glanced at his watch—3:00 a.m. He could wake her and begin his campaign right now.

  Or he could catch what little sleep he could and wake her when the sun came up. The wide yawn that suddenly overtook him had him choosing the latter. His resolution strong in his mind, he turned and walked back toward the bedroom.

  AT 3:00 A.M. TRACKER glanced at his watch, then aimed a murderous glance through the crack in the closet door. His back was killing him and he wasn’t sure if his legs would ever unbend again. If looks could have maimed or killed, the woman sitting at the desk would have died a very painful death several hours ago.

  He’d waited until after eleven to break in. By that time, all the lights had been turned out except the ones illuminating the walkways between the cabins. He’d no sooner let himself into the office than he’d heard the key turn in the outer door.

  The closet had been his home ever since.

  The sudden whir of the computer told him that the blond amazon might have finally finished her nocturnal bookkeeping. He would have put her out of commission earlier, but Lucas’s orders had been very clear. He didn’t want any kind of disturbance at the spa that might alert Sophie to the fact that her big brother was keeping tabs on her.

  The moment the computer stopped whirring, the blond amazon closed the ledger and put it in the top drawer. Tracker pinched himself just to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming when she rose and moved toward the door of the office.

  He waited two minutes before he crawled out of the closet. When it only took him another five to find what he was looking for, he swore softly beneath his breath. If he’d climbed out of that tree ten minutes earlier, he would have had the number of Sophie’s cabin before that blond amazon had ever settled in for her nighttime rendezvous with the books, and wouldn’t have wasted so much time.

  Quickly he checked the number against the map on the wall and discovered that the cabin Sophie had been assigned to, number 58, was nearby. Perhaps his luck was about to change.

  Once he let himself out of the building, he slid into the shadows offered by the trees and made his way to number 58. The kinks had just about worked themselves out of his legs when he reached it.

  A light poured through one of the windows and pooled on the flower beds below.

  Did anyone sleep normal hours around here?

  Ducking low, Tracker moved quietly to the cabin. Then pressing his back against the logs, he rose slowly, inched his face closer to the window and risked a quick peek.

  It was the bedroom window all right. A woman had propped herself up against a pillow to read. The good news was she hadn’t seen him.

  The bad news was that the woman wasn’t Sophie.

  Tracker ran through the evidence in his mind as he moved quietly to the front door of the cabin. It always paid to be thorough. The porch light confirmed that this was indeed Sophie’s cabin. So he hadn’t made a mistake. And the blond wig he’d spotted sitting on the dresser had been styled to resemble Sophie’s hairdo.

  There were times he hated it when his instincts were right. He let himself quietly into the cabin. The time for careful subterfuge was over. He intended to get some answers.

  WHEN SHE DRIFTED UP through the layers of sleep in the early hours of the morning, Mac discovered she and Lucas were nestled in bed together like spoons. She felt his breath warm on her ear, his body even warmer along her backside. One of her feet was trapped between his legs, and he had one arm wrapped around her waist, the other hand planted firmly on her thigh. Just as if he wasn’t planning on letting her go.

  She didn’t want to go anywhere.

  She opened her eyes only a crack, only long enough to see that thin gray light was creeping into the room.

  Closing them tightly again, she tried to recapture the dream she’d had—of Lucas slipping in beside her during the night and pulling her to him. He’d touched her so gently, loved her so softly, she’d known she was dreaming. His lovemaking had been nothing like the other times. There had been none of the desperation, none of the demand. She had never felt so cared for, so cherished. Each time she’d drifted close to the surface, he’d whispered to her to go back to sleep, to dream, to just feel how much he wanted her.

  In the dream, Lucas had wanted her, not just the fantasies she’d conjured up for him. He’d wanted Mac. When he’d whispered that in her ear, the pleasure had streamed through her so sweetly, so deeply, that she’d shattered into a million pieces.

  It had been the most wonderful dream she’d ever had. And as impossible as it was, she wanted it to go on and on. She wanted it to be true.

  In the half light of dawn, still wrapped in his arms, she could admit that she’d fallen in love with Lucas Wainright. She’d known it with the same certainty she felt at times in the lab, just when an experiment was about to go right. If she wanted to be Dr. Lloyd and analyze it, all she had to do was remember her research. When admiration was mixed with physical attraction, the chances for combustion were greatly enhanced. Mix in liking and trust, and you might have the perfect formula for love.

  Mac didn’t need the analysis. She just knew it was true. She never could have attempted what she had in that poolroom if she hadn’t been doing it to Lucas.

  She loved him.

  Keeping her eyes tightly closed, she hugged the dream and the knowledge closer. As long as she did, she wouldn’t have to allow the part of her that was Dr. Lloyd to spoil this mome
nt by coming up with a tidy list of reasons why a future with Lucas Wainright was impossible. That would come soon enough. For now she’d let the Mac she was discovering inside of herself rule. Because Mac knew how to dream.

  The first ring of the cell phone had her frowning and opening one eye. Sophie surely couldn’t be calling her at this hour, not if she was bound and determined to avoid speaking to Lucas. In fact, Sophie didn’t even get out of bed at this hour.

  The second insistent ring had Lucas stirring behind her and another thought springing into her mind. What if Sophie was in trouble?

  Mac struggled to free herself, but Lucas only tightened his grip.

  “The phone,” she said. “I have to answer it.”

  “Why?”

  His voice was sleepy, but his body wasn’t.

  “It could be So—I mean, there could be a problem…at the lab.” There. If it was Sophie, she could still pretend it was someone else.

  The second Lucas relaxed his arms, she slid from the bed and raced to the dresser for her purse. Dumping the contents, she grabbed the cell phone.

  “Just how often do you have trouble at your lab?” he asked, sounding more awake.

  “There was only that once.” She flipped open her phone. “Last weekend someone broke in. Hello.”

  The third ring sounded.

  “It’s mine,” Lucas said.

  It wasn’t until she turned back to him that she realized she wasn’t wearing any clothes. They were lying neatly folded next to the pants Lucas was lifting off a nearby chair. Mac couldn’t remember taking hers off. In fact, the last thing she recalled was falling asleep in the taxi on their way back to the hotel.

  She never slept in the nude. But she’d definitely been nude when she’d dreamed that Lucas had made love to her. Or had it been a dream?

  “Yeah?” Lucas rubbed a hand over his face as he spoke into the phone. “No…okay.” Dropping the phone to his side, he turned to her. “My security man has a rather lengthy report to make. I thought I saw the makings for coffee out at the bar. Do you think you could…?”