by Sandy James
Zach picked one right back up and dropped it on her plate. “It was a compliment, Gina. You’re perfect. Don’t change a thing.”
“She was fine until you said something.” Richard glared at him. “You’ve got a big mouth, Mr. Wizard.”
Zach glared right back. “I was just making conversation, Dick.”
Richard picked up another piece of crab rangoon and plunked it on Gina’s plate. “You’re beautiful, Gina. Don’t let the professor tell you otherwise. I think you’re perfect.” He leaned in and pressed his lips against her cheek.
She tilted her head away from him, took her food and sat down on an old recliner. The upholstery was held together in places by silver duct tape. Richard piled food on his plate while Zach just watched her.
She put her plate on her lap and picked up a crab rangoon. Pulling it into two pieces, she ran her tongue over the creamy filling, a happy purr coming from her throat.
Zach had to force himself to stop staring at her. He reached for a container of cashew chicken, so lost in thinking about Gina that he forgot his right hand was bandaged. With a flex of his fingers, he winced at the stiffness, trying to force the memory. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened at Starbucks?”
“Yeah,” she replied. “We can talk.”
“Finally.” He headed to the living room with his full plate.
Richard had taken the other chair, leaving him no place to sit, so he plopped down on the floor next to Gina. Ravenously hungry, he ate as his mind started to focus and he tried hard to remember.
The Starbucks kept popping into his head. Whatever went down had happened there—he was convinced of it. Why wouldn’t she tell him the truth? “How did I hit my head?”
“Um—you—you slipped on some spilled coffee.” She appeared to be holding her breath, probably to see if he bought the blatant lie.
“My five-year-old niece fibs better than you do. My head feels fine.” He held up his bandaged hand. “But my hand hurts like hell. How did I get injured?”
Richard and Gina exchanged cautious looks. “You’re going to have to tell him, Gina.”
“Yeah, Gina,” Zach drawled. “You’re going to have to tell me.”
She gave a resigned sigh. “You got shocked.”
“Shocked?”
“Yeah. Shocked. Um...” Her lips pressed into a thin line. “You got—um...” She was clearly trying to come up with another fucking lie.
Zach reached his limit. Normally a patient person, methodical even, he couldn’t seem to muster up any tolerance for his current circumstances. He’d missed his meeting with Joel Woods, and he wasn’t at all sure the guy would take another. An apology wouldn’t suffice. Not only that, but Zach’s injured hand was throbbing. He’d slept the better part of the day away, but he didn’t have a damn clue why.
“You need to tell me what happened so I can start damage control.” Gina’s mouth opened, but Zach held up a hand—the bandaged one to make a point. “And let’s try the truth this time.”
She considered him for a few long moments, and Zach knew she was weighing whether he’d buy another lie. Remembering how she’d instinctively known what he was thinking about when they’d met, he realized he was just as able to understand her motives as well—so easily, it was as natural as breathing. He would explore that fascinating phenomenon when the current mystery got put to rest.
“You really did get shocked,” she finally said.
“You told me that, but what in the hell do you mean by ‘shocked’? Like with a live wire?” That didn’t make sense. Of course, quite a few things she’d said from the moment she’d slapped handcuffs on him didn’t make sense. “Did I touch the back of an espresso machine or something?”
“More like a Taser.”
He waited for her to expound.
As was getting to be an aggravating habit, she didn’t.
“Why would someone tase me?” He stared at his injured hand, suddenly panicked over what was under the bandage. He ripped off the wrappings. One enormous star-shaped burn puckered the skin on his palm. “That’s not what a Taser burn looks like. This,” Zach said as he held his hand palm out, “is an electrical burn.” Working with computers, he’d had more than enough shocks and burns over the years to know.
When she shrugged, his temper hit the stratosphere. She might be drop-dead gorgeous, and she might think she was helping him by not telling him what happened, but even a woman like Gina wasn’t worth getting banged up over—especially when he thought he’d hired her for protection.
He took the plate from his lap, dropped it on the coffee table and marched down the hall to the bedroom.
Gina followed, which wasn’t a surprise.
Zach grabbed his shoes and socks, sat down on the bed and started to put them on.
“What are you doing?”
“I would think it was obvious.”
“You can’t leave,” she insisted, a touch of panic in her tone.
“The hell I can’t.” He tied the last lace then stood up, struck with another problem. “Where’s my damned phone?”
Moving to the desk, she picked up a piece of melted plastic and twisted wires he’d missed seeing earlier.
His stomach plummeted to his toes. He snatched it from her hands, more forcefully than he should have. “What in the fuck did you do to my phone? Shit, it’s ruined.”
“I didn’t do anything to it. The thing got fried when you got shocked.”
Everything was gone. Phone numbers. Emails. Notes he’d made about some of HanTel’s projects. Thank God, he’d habitually backed up the information, but it would take hours to program another phone to do everything this one could.
He threw the now useless piece of technology on her bed. “I’m outta here. Consider yourself fired.” He pushed past her toward the door.
Gina’s hand snaked around his upper arm. “You can’t go.”
He was touched by the concern he heard in her voice, but he still was outta there. “The hell I can’t.”
“Please, Zach. I don’t want you to get hurt. Stay. At least until we’re sure the stupid SOGs who attacked you aren’t lying in wait.”
She’d let her guard down. A first. “SOGs? What are SOGs?”
Her face blanched. “I mean...guys. You know, bad guys. Terrorists.”
“You forgot I remember everything I hear. You said ‘SOGs.’ Now, if you don’t want me to walk out of this apartment, you’re going to tell me who in the hell SOGs are and why they’d try to hurt me.”
Her eyes held his for some long moments. Was she trying to read his thoughts again? If she was, the only thing she would discover was massive frustration and some lingering anger.
“Fine. Come sit back down, and I’ll tell you what I know.”
Chapter Six
Gina didn’t want to do this, but he’d given her no choice.
“Well?” Zach asked as she led him back into the living room. “What happened to me at Starbucks?”
“Gina...” Richard threw her a concerned frown. “You need to tread carefully.”
“I know that,” she snapped.
There was nothing she hated more than being backed into a corner. Right now Zach had her good and trapped, back to the wall, and there was nowhere for her to escape. She had to keep him safe, and the only way she’d be able to do that was to get him to trust her. That meant she needed to stop lying and open up a piece of her world to him. A brainiac like Zach would never believe she was telling the truth if she didn’t.
“Now, Gina.” Zach’s tone told her that the almost infinite patience she’d seen in him had at long last run out.
“Richard? Can you give us some alone time?”
“Nope.”
“Please, Richard. This is hard enough without you two constantly baiting each other.”
“I’m not baiting Mr. Wiz—” He shut his mouth before he finished the insulting nickname. Maybe he was starting to understand.
“Fine,” he said with a
flippant wave of his hand. “I’m heading to that rat-trap apartment I call home. I’ll catch a shower and a quick nap. Then we can go to his place to see if they’re watching for him.”
This wasn’t just her asking him to leave. Richard was still pissed about sleeping arrangements. She refused to feel guilty because she didn’t want to share a place with him while they were in San Francisco. Her privacy was as important as the air she breathed.
“He has a name,” she said in a low, angry voice.
“Fine. Zach. We’ll go back to Zach’s place and see if they’re waiting for him.”
She’d already thought about that. It was one of the reasons she’d brought Zach to her apartment instead of taking him home to recover. “I don’t think they know where he lives, but we need to find out for sure. They’re going to be crawling all around HanTel, so he can’t go back there.”
“Who are you talking about? Who won’t be there?” Zach’s angry tone tweaked her conscience.
The guy deserved to know the danger he was facing. At least some of the danger. If she told him the whole story, he’d probably faint dead away.
It was time for them to have a semi-frank talk. “Richard... Alone time? Please?”
Richard nodded and grabbed his empty plate. Pitching it in the sink, he called over his shoulder, “I’ll meet you at our place in two hours. The alley. Stay safe, you sexy Amazon.” His usual parting admonition.
“Stay safe, you miserable SOG,” she replied out of habit before she turned to face Zach.
“Our place?” he asked with an arched eyebrow. “Thought you lived here. You’re moving in with him?”
“I already told you. Richard and I aren’t a couple.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I didn’t?”
Zach shook his head.
“Fine. We’re not a couple.”
He responded with a hundred-watt grin.
While she was pleased he’d finally stopped scowling at her, Gina couldn’t smile back. She swallowed hard, planning and plotting exactly how much she could or even should tell him about the scene at the coffee shop. Wound far too tight, she flinched when Richard slammed the door on his way out.
“Okay, he’s gone now,” Zach said. “We can talk. So out with it. No more lies. No more stupid stories. Just tell me what’s going on and why you called Richard a SOG. I thought the SOGs were the bad guys.”
“He used to be a SOG. Used to be.”
“What in the hell is ‘SOG’ an acronym for?”
“Come sit down.”
Gina took Zach’s good hand and led him to her favorite chair. Her patron goddess Ix Chel always wanted to know what she needed, wanting to give her nice furniture and jewelry, all kinds of luxury. All Gina had to do was ask and it was hers, but she didn’t want fancy things. She was content with what she had.
Besides, that dilapidated chair had been with her since college, and she’d hung onto it like some people refused to give up their favorite childhood toy. The rest of her stuff, she’d picked up at some Goodwill store, just as she always had whenever she moved. Why risk something nice getting broken in transit? Hell, why bother moving anything at all? With the exception of her pictures, her clothes and her weapons, Gina left the things she prized most in Avalon—her true home.
Pushing his shoulders, she made Zach sit in the chair. Then she dropped down on the coffee table, facing him.
She chose her words carefully. “SOG stands for Son of Gaia. They’re a group—a sort of terrorist group—that’s decided to try to use technology to cause problems. Financial problems. You know, like manipulate the stock market and get everybody all worked up. Cause panics in banks.”
“Technology. That’s where I come in.”
“Exactly.” Maybe this wouldn’t be so awful after all. She might not have to mention the SOGs’ forays into gaining a foothold in the military.
Yeah, right.
“Covert takedown,” he whispered.
“Pardon?”
“Just thinking aloud. I always figured the best way to bring something down was quietly, covertly. Don’t let them know you’re whittling away. Take September eleventh. Those attacks might’ve killed a lot of people and made a big statement about their strength and our weaknesses, but it backfired on the terrorists. Flying planes into skyscrapers made America stronger. But if they’d taken over each company in the World Trade Center instead, one by one—”
“We wouldn’t have seen them coming ’til it was too late.” Excited that he understood, she clutched his good hand.
His eyes widened, but he didn’t pull away. “If they play their cards right, they can amass a war chest. Then they can afford to—”
“Finance a major military attack.” She loved how they were so in tune and how his thoughts easily followed hers. It was too late to retract all she’d revealed, but there was no harm done, especially if her honesty won Zach’s trust.
“Are they after the United States, or is a megalomaniac running the show? Maybe targeting more than just us?”
That was a hard question to answer. She figured simple was best. “Roger on the megalomaniac.”
“Why you, Gina?”
“What do you mean?”
Zach studied her for a long moment, his gaze catching and holding hers as if trying to find some elusive answer in her eyes.
He gave her hand a squeeze. “From what I can tell, you’re not CIA. You’re not FBI. You’re not military. You’re nothing but a freelance security chick. Why are you the front line against this threat? Why don’t you call out the big guns?”
She couldn’t help but bristle and tried to tug her hand away. Zach wouldn’t release it. “I told you before. Don’t call me a chick.”
“No insult intended, but you didn’t answer my question.”
Hard not to take offense, though. In her short stint as an air traffic controller, the males who dominated the field were condescending and sexist. Chick. Baby. Sweetie. They never looked her in the eye, and she’d grown tired of them talking to her boobs instead of her face. Her angry response to any sexist comment had always been nothing more than conditioned, a defensive reaction learned over time. She couldn’t stop it, even if Zach hadn’t intended offense.
He leaned forward and put his injured hand on her knee. “I meant it, Gina. No insult intended. I won’t call you a chick again. Promise.”
Normally, Gina would have pulled her hand back or at least pushed his off her leg. Physical displays of affection usually made her uncomfortable. She’d only been kissed twice, one of those just yesterday, and that had been way too short for her to decide if she liked kissing or not. Although she had to admit she’d like to explore that avenue with Zach again to see if kissing was as nice as it seemed in movies. Or as nice as when Artair grabbed Rebecca and planted a long, deep kiss on her when he thought no one was watching. Rebecca usually walked on clouds for quite a while after the big, handsome Scotsman turned her loose.
The only people Gina had ever spontaneously hugged were her Amazon sisters, and those gestures had felt awkward at first. She still preferred a good, hard slap on the shoulder. If a Sentinel ever tried to hug her, which wasn’t often, she had to fight the urge to reflexively knee him in the groin. Between her standoffish nature, her masculine choice of clothing and her short hair, most guys probably thought she wasn’t interested in them. Being a tomboy sure hadn’t helped.
Yet here she was, enjoying how Zach cradled her hand in his and smoothed his fingers over her knee. Instead of making her want to pull away, all she wanted to do was get closer. Much closer. To kiss him again when they wouldn’t be interrupted.
Gina forgot all about their conversation. Her body obeyed her desire as she leaned in, watching him carefully to gauge his interest and fearing she’d misjudged the growing attraction between them.
His response was to breathe faster and meet her in the middle.
Warm. His lips were so incredibly warm, and he seemed to think they had al
l the time in the world to enjoy the kiss. No hurried peck or fast brush of lips. The steady pressure never relented.
She surrendered her mind to feeling and savoring a connection that, even in her limited experience, she knew was special. Heat pooled between her thighs, making her squirm with a need she’d never known before.
Wanting more but unsure as how to get it, she followed her instincts, teasing his lips with her tongue until he opened them. Then she stroked her tongue across his.
Zach’s hand dropped hers before reaching up to cup her neck. He pulled her forward as a low groan rose from his chest. At least she hadn’t shocked him too much. From the insistent way his tongue was returning her caresses, he loved their connection every bit as much as she did. When he pulled away, she growled, fisted her hands in his shirt and tugged him right back.
The hand that had been around her neck moved to cradle her face, where his thumb stroked her cheek.
Gina wanted to touch him, to pull off the stupid shirt she couldn’t seem to make herself release. His tongue followed hers into her mouth, where she gripped it with her teeth and gently sucked. She couldn’t get enough of him. His scent. His taste. His warmth. They all beckoned her, making her dizzy.
His hands dropped to cover hers as he eased them from his shirt.
The spell his kiss had woven around her senses was broken.
“Tell me about these SOGs.” Zach’s voice was raspy.
Is he fucking kidding?
How could he form a coherent thought? All she could think about was kissing him again. And again. And stripping off those stupid khakis, ripping off the wrinkled shirt and running her fingers through that patch of hair on his chest. Then she would wrap her fingers around his hard—
“Gina?”
She shook her head like an Etch-a-Sketch, clearing the picture of their kiss from her mind. “They’re magical.”
Well, hell.
She hadn’t meant to say that. Zach’s kiss had turned her brains into scrambled eggs. She couldn’t let that happen again. Her guard would have to stay up. If he knew the kind of power he held over her, how he could scatter her thoughts with one stupid kiss, then he would—