by Lynne Silver
They came down to earth in a free fall, her collapsing against his heaving chest. Their sweat-soaked skin stuck together but neither minded. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.
He wanted to stay holding her all night. That was new for him. He’d stayed with women all night before, but only to benefit from morning sex to cure his ever-present good-morning erection.
With Samara, he wanted to hold her and listen to her breathe. He knew Luca would be in first thing, negating any possibility to get lucky before coffee. But it didn’t matter. Maybe he could even take the kid to the cafeteria for breakfast and let Samara sleep in. She deserved it. The poor woman worked so hard, rarely taking any time for herself.
From the pad of paper full of notes next to the bed, he guessed she’d gone straight from dinner to tucking Luca in, to caring over the phone for her mother at the nursing home. If she’d showered at all, it would’ve been a quickie with no time wasted on rubbing lotion into her skin or painting her toenails.
Speaking of which, he curled his neck for a glance. Yep, unpainted toenails. That was his Jonesie, no time for frivolity. He wanted her to have cherry-red toenails, not because it would be damn sexy, but because it meant she took an hour to pamper herself. Well, if she wouldn’t do it, the responsibility fell to his shoulders. She wouldn’t know what hit her.
*
A few days later, Samara yawned, stretched and sat up in bed. It wasn’t often she woke before Luca, but she’d managed this morning. He’d been up late playing catch with Chase after dinner. September had rolled around, and with it the night air was cooler, minus the mass of mosquitoes, allowing for outside evening play.
Yawning again, she shuffled to her dresser to pull out her clothes. She opened the top drawer and blinked. Staring back at her was a layer of completely unfamiliar undergarments in unfamiliar colors. What happened? She glanced around her apartment, fearing she was taking after her mother and having an episode of early-onset Alzheimer’s. No, this was her apartment. She was positive.
Whose underwear was this? She noticed a torn-out sheet of a notepad stuck to the top of one delicate lacy thong. Gingerly she picked it up. “Does this turn you on?”
Chase. She sighed. She was going to kill him, but first she’d have to get dressed to find him. She riffled through the piles of lace and silk. Not one pair of plain cotton left. How dare he?
But she couldn’t stop the smile from emerging on her lips. He wanted her in this. He thought she’d look sexy in it. She’d never worn anything like it. It could make her feel sexier. Who knew?
After a little deliberation, she selected a sheer ivory pair of panties and bra that looked as if it would push her breasts to her chin. She tried it on and turned in front of the mirror hanging on the closet door.
Not terrible. The bra did a great job at pushing her breasts up and separating them. No uniboob for her. She pivoted and looked back. It wasn’t a thong, but the rear of the panties was totally sheer, revealing the cleft in her bottom. Other than a few stretch marks and a stray pocket of cellulite, she pulled it off. Not bad, Jones, she could almost hear Chase say.
Stifling a giggle, she pulled on her most staid trousers and an ivory silk blouse. Normally, she buttoned it nearly to the top, but it didn’t fit right with the new bra. She undid one button from the top. Then another. Perfect. If she leaned over a tad, one lucky person would be treated to a nice view of cleavage.
She couldn’t believe this was her, contemplating showing off her chest in public. Ever since she’d developed larger-than-average breasts in middle school, her mother had helped her select minimizing bras, and she’d kept up the shopping habit. Until today.
Her gaze caught on the note Chase had left. Was she turned-on? Yes, maybe a little. But it was more than that. She felt good in the lingerie. As if she owned her sexuality and could inspire lust in others.
A little while later, she’d roused Luca and they headed over to the cafeteria for breakfast. Chase caught up with them at the entrance, as if he’d been waiting for them and anticipating her arrival.
She frowned at him. “I’m not happy with you,” she whispered, making sure Luca couldn’t hear.
He grinned, unrepentant. “Not comfortable in the new clothes?”
“I’m more concerned how you managed to break into my apartment and clear out my whole drawer.”
A shrug. “I do this for a living, baby. Compared to sneaking into a target’s secure compound, your apartment was a breeze.”
For some reason, she didn’t like the reminder Chase’s job was life-and-death dangerous. Especially when he didn’t have the physical enhancements the rest of his team had.
“Well, it was rude.”
“Don’t lie, Jonesie. You love it.” He ran a finger along the curve of her breast where her blouse gaped open. “This is a good look for you.”
She slapped his hand away. “You promised, Chase. No public displays of affection.”
“If you don’t want public displays of affection, then you’d better button your shirt back up. Affection isn’t the only thing you’ll be inspiring, and not just from me.”
Her eyes narrowed, but a deeper part of her ego swelled at his words. Could she really attract some of the handsome strong men on this campus?
“Don’t look so shocked, Samara. You’re one of the few beautiful single women on a campus of mostly men. The only reason you haven’t been hit on every moment is Shep made it clear you were a potential enemy from day one.”
“And you’re the only idiot willing to go against his orders?”
“Something like that,” he agreed amiably, and opened the door to the cafeteria for her. Luca was already inside and at a table spooning Cheerios into his mouth.
Samara piled a tray high with fruit and other parts of a balanced breakfast and walked to her son. Chase joined them. At this hour of the morning, only the teenagers were in attendance at the first breakfast shift.
The older soldiers and married couples were allowed to sleep in until the eight thirty seating.
Chase yawned. “Luca, buddy, you gotta learn to sleep a little later. I can’t keep doing this early-breakfast thing.”
Luca giggled.
“No one invited you,” she said, more sharply than intended and winced at the hurt look that appeared on his face. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. I think insulting you became a bad habit. I’m glad you were able to join us for breakfast.”
He held his hands over his heart and slumped back in his chair. “A concession from the mighty Doctor Jones. I’m slain.” He sat up. “Luca, your mother is a ballbu—” He broke off at the look of death she shot him. “A ball player. Do you think she can shoot baskets with us later?”
Luca’s eyes lit up. “Can you, Mommy? Chase said he’ll lift me up so I can dunk!”
“I’m sure I can find time for that,” she said, pouring a little cream into her coffee. Chase’s hand found her thigh under the table and squeezed. She smiled at him, and their gazes remained locked until one of the teenagers approached the table.
“We’re ready for our lesson, sir.”
Chase grabbed her cup of coffee, stole a huge gulp and leapt up from the table, stealing a quick kiss as he stood. “Gotta go.”
She watched him leave with a mixture of annoyance at his public kiss and curiosity about his lesson with the teen soldiers. And then she shrugged. She could have the words “no PDA” tattooed on her forehead and Chase would still ignore them. He was going to do what he wanted. And maybe that’s why she liked him so much. He wasn’t cowed by her and didn’t let her boss him around.
“Are you and Chase married, Mommy?”
She practically dropped her fork into her lap. “What? Married? Me and Chase?”
Luca stared at her with big eyes. “Kylie’s mommy and daddy kissed yesterday and they’re married.”
Oh dear, how to explain this. It had been too much to hope her very smart and observant son wouldn’t notice Chase’s
attentions.
“Chase and I are not married, sweetie. We’re good friends. He kissed me because we like each other. Just like I kiss you because I like you.”
A few of the wrinkles in Luca’s forehead smoothed out. “Oh. But maybe Chase thinks you’re married.” She was about to explain Chase knew they weren’t married, but then Luca said, “I’ll tell him he can’t marry you, because I’m going to marry you.”
She put down her fork and reached for Luca’s hand across the table. “Luca, I love you very much, but I am your mommy. Mommies and children can’t get married.”
“Why not?”
Uh. How to explain this one? Times like these, she really wished she were married to have backup in answering the tricky questions. “Because it’s a rule, Luca. Like the rules the president makes.” She mentally crossed her fingers, hoping that would put an end to the line of questioning.
That seemed to satisfy him. “Okay. I guess I can marry Kylie then. She asked me yesterday, but I said no ’cause I had to marry you. Now I can marry her.”
Her heart swelled at the thought of her baby marrying anyone, but she forced a smile. “Kylie would make a beautiful bride, but you’re a little young to get married. Maybe you could just pretend.”
He gave her a look that said well, duh. Only he dared to give her that look. Everyone else in the world was too cowed by her academic pedigree to dare contradict her. Everyone but Luca. And Chase.
“I’m four, Mommy.”
“I know, baby. Are you done with breakfast yet?”
“Yep.” He pushed back from the table and grabbed his tray to clear it, only spilling half of his milk along the way. “Where am I playing today while you work?”
“Actually, you’ll be coming with me today. Kylie has a doctor’s appointment and Emma is busy.” She wondered what was keeping Emma so busy. But Emma had knocked on the lab door yesterday with red-rimmed eyes and said she’d be unable to watch Luca. She wondered if Emma’s problems had something to do with Xander, who’d also been spotted in the gym beating the crap out of a poor punching bag. Word on the campus was that the pair were a perfect match, but doing their best to ignore it.
“Yay! Can I look in the microscope?” Luca asked. His question took her mind off the fact she’d only been on campus a few weeks and was already caught up in the gossip of the small community of the Program.
“Yes, but you’ll also have to be very quiet and work in your workbooks too.”
“Can I watch TV?”
“May you. And yes, you may watch television.”
Chapter Nine
Chase leaned back in the office chair and pretended to be relaxed. In reality every muscle in his body was tense, on edge. It was nearly all hands on deck at a meeting regarding the finding and capturing of Paulson. There was also the small matter of the Senate hearings, which were due to start next week. Everyone was shrugging them off as if it didn’t matter, but they did. Their entire organization and way of life rested on the outcome of those hearings.
Shep strode into the room, slammed a thick leather folio stuffed with notes on the oval conference table and folded his arms across his chest. “Okay, hit me. Any closer to Paulson?” On his best days, Shep exuded tension. Now he practically quivered from head to toe with it.
Gavin spoke up. “A car matching the description of the one that followed Chase and Doctor Jones from the airport was found parked in the Baltimore International Airport long-term lot yesterday.”
“What are the odds that car is now parked there permanently?” Adam asked.
All the men nodded. The car was a dead lead.
“But,” Gavin smiled, “the lot has security cameras. I was able to persuade the owners to let me have a look.”
Yeah, right. Gavin’s version of persuasion involved hacking into their secure network.
“Maybe I was projecting, but two men, wearing dark suits and walking like assassins, took the airport shuttle to the terminal around the time the car was parked. I didn’t think it was the seventy-year-old grandmother and her little pooch, the only other person in the parking lot at the same time.”
“And then what?” Shep asked, running out of patience.
“I looked at a four-hour range from the time they dropped the car off. No international flights left in that period.” Gavin stood, grabbed a marker for the white board and started scribbling. “Instead we’ve got regional flights to Philly, Atlanta, Minneapolis, Miami, you name it.”
“So what you’re saying is we’re screwed?” Chase asked.
“Not exactly. My best guess is they were on the flight to Atlanta or JFK, both international hubs. From there we’re screwed. They could be anywhere.”
“Fuck.” Chase said what they were all thinking. “I want to know how Paulson managed to get another lackey. Didn’t Rowan kill one of his two soldiers?”
Shep cleared his throat. “Likely the terrorist organization funding Paulson’s research provided him with a security detail.” He turned to Gavin. “Do your best to get better images of the men. Then get them on the no-fly list. Our friends in Homeland Security will do the rest.”
Chase tried not to get angry. No fly list? Really, what the hell was that supposed to do? “I don’t want to wait for Homeland Security. Why aren’t we sending men to every possible lead in every European city?” It’s what they would’ve done a few months ago.
Shep suddenly looked tired and slumped in his chair. “I’m trying to play nice,” he said. Everyone in the room quieted and watched their leader. “If the upcoming hearings don’t go our way, cooperating with other departments is going to become modus operandi around here. We may as well get used to it.”
A low ripple of grumbles sounded around the room. No one liked this new situation. Especially him. He frowned at Shep, who looked back stoically.
“Stanton, I understand why you’re upset. You were seen kissing Doctor Jones in the cafeteria and seen leaving her apartment, practically naked, the other night.” Strangely no one laughed. Odd, he was usually the butt of sexual jokes and innuendo around here. Shep must be really ticked for there to be not one joke about him walking around campus in a too-small woman’s robe. “You can’t have her, Chase. She’s off-limits.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but Shep shook his head. “Don’t argue with me. You won’t like the results. Since you’re off guard duty for her, there’s no need to go near her. She has a job to do, and so do you.”
“Hang on,” Adam said slowly, ever the consummate planner. “Maybe the time has come to follow through?”
He scowled, unsure of where Adam was going, but sure he wouldn’t like it.
“Shep came up with this plan days ago. Paulson wants Jones, right?” A few heads nodded. “Let’s give her to him.”
Chase stood. “Hell no. I already said no to this.”
“Your wishes don’t factor in, Stanton.” Adam also stood, leaning forward, palms on the table.
“You’d put her in danger? I don’t see you volunteering Loren for this. Paulson wanted her also.”
Adam’s face went white with fury. “Don’t pull her into this.”
“But it’s okay to pull Samara in?” He stormed out before he did something rash like punch his best friend. No one came after him.
*
“Mommy, look at me! I’m flying.” Luca shrieked with delight as Chase sailed him overhead and to the basket for a dunk.
“I’m looking, baby. You’re the next Michael Jordan.”
“Who?”
Chase pretended to drop Luca, who laughed. Samara’s stomach lurched at the visual of Luca hitting the black concrete of the campus basketball court.
“Who?” Chase practically roared. “Michael Jordan, only the greatest basketball player of all time. How do you not know this? Jonesie, what are you teaching your son?”
She hid a smile and obediently jogged off to get the ball, which had bounced off onto the grass. They were alone on the court. Some of Chase’s crew had come
by with a ball to play but had kept walking when they saw who was with Chase at the court. She knew they would’ve stayed if it had only been Luca, but they still treated her like an enemy. It was starting to really annoy her.
She was an employee of the Program, same as everyone else. Plus, she had Paulson gunning for her, even more than the rest of them. Still, she was persona non grata. She knew why. It was Adam Blacker’s fault. Chase’s brother-in-law. He still hadn’t forgiven her for her role in his experience at Paulson’s hands. Until Blacker publicly forgave her, she would continue to be ostracized.
“Shoot it, Mommy. Shoot it.”
She gripped the ball and judged the distance to the basket. It had to be a four-pointer, at least. Oh well. Here goes nothing. She let the ball fly. And missed the basket by about five feet.
Chase didn’t even laugh like she expected. He grabbed the ball out of the air and made a clean shot. Come to think of it, he’d been quiet all evening. He hadn’t even sat with them at dinner, choosing instead to sit with his cohort. He’d only joined them now because Luca had practically leapt in his lap and begged him to play the promised game of basketball.
“Something wrong, Stanton?”
He looked at her and winced when Luca’s shot went wild and bonked him in the head.
“I’m fine,” he said curtly.
It was as if they were back to her first days on campus when he’d barely been able to be in the same room. But she didn’t have time to wheedle a smile out of him. Xander came jogging up. Ignoring Luca and her, he called to Chase, “You’re needed. Now.”
Chase nodded, gave an absentminded high five to Luca and walked off without any acknowledgment to her. She frowned, watching him jog off with Xander. It was unlike him to head off without taking time to kiss her or have a final minute with Luca. Something important must be going on.
“Where did Chase have to go, Mommy?”
“I don’t know, baby.”
“Will he come back?”
“Probably not before your bedtime.” She glanced at her watch. “And speaking of which, you have time for three more shots, so make them count.”