“Your ego is safe.” She tapped the image of Layton’s naked ass. “When I see him, I’m attracted, but I also know that he’s hers.” She touched Alyssa’s hand that the woman had slid around the back of Layton’s neck.
Again, he thought about his answer. “Does that mean you feel I’m yours?”
“Yes! Satisfied?” She moved off the desk with lightning speed, but Jack caught onto her arm to stop her from getting away.
“Satisfied that you’re pissed?” Jack shook his head. “I don’t think so. And if it’s the soul-baring that you’re upset about, then consider this. I’m a private man, too, and it scares the hell out of me to want you this much.”
“It scares me, too.” Her voice was barely a whisper. She looked at the photo again. “They’re in love. You can see it in every part of them. And they’re so wrapped up in each other, that they’re obviously not aware that someone’s taking pictures of them.”
Jack figured he knew where she was going with this. Layton and Alyssa had been too much into each other--literally--and they hadn't noticed a killer breathing down on them.
“Is that a cautionary tale for us not to get naked?” he asked, trying to give that dark revelation a little light.
“Maybe.” She stepped toward him again and slid her hand around the back of his neck.
Even though that was how Alyssa was gripping Layton in the photo, it didn’t give Jack a creepy feeling. Just the opposite. Of course, any time Dana touched him he had non-creepy thoughts.
She leaned down, brushed a kiss on his forehead. “I need you to hold me, to tell me that we aren’t going to die like they did.”
Jack started to get up, but she pushed him back in the chair. “I can’t hold you if you keep doing that,” he reminded her.
“There’s a condition to the holding.”
“No nakedness.” It wasn’t a question. He really did know where she was going with this. “And no sex because it’ll screw with our minds and distract us.”
She nodded. “Can you do that?”
“Absolutely.” It was possibly a lie. At best, it'd be a hell of a promise to keep.
He stood, hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. “Everything will be all right, Dana. I won't let the killer get to you.”
She dropped her head on his shoulder. “And I’m not going to let him get to you.”
Jack pulled back so he could meet her eyes. “You will not take any chances to protect me.”
Dana kissed him. “Yes. I will. You’ll take chances to protect me, too, and there’s nothing we can do about it.” With sleepy, weary eyes she looked at the bed. Sighed. “Ready for this?”
“Of course.” And that was a definite lie.
Still, Jack eased her onto the bed and nearly climbed on there with her before he remembered parts of his pants were damp. He unzipped. Then, stopped.
“Commando,” she mumbled.
“Yeah.”
Suddenly, Dana didn’t look so in need of that hug and comfort. She was looking at his zipper, or rather what she could see of him now that he was unzipped.
“I’d better keep them on,” he complained. Because with Dana’s resolve dwindling and his practically nonexistent, the pants might be the only thing to keep them from having that distracting sex.
Jack re-zipped, put his gun on the nightstand and got on the bed. He pulled her back into his arms, Dana’s body molding right to his.
It was going to be a long night.
Really long, he amended, when he saw the movement on the security screens.
Vince had finished his sandwich and whiskey and was on the move. Up the stairs to the second floor. But that wasn’t the only movement. At that exact moment, Grace came out of her room. Headed for the same stairs. Jack knew it was a huge invasion of their privacy.
But he watched anyway.
Because Jack had the unsettling feeling that he was about to see something he didn’t want to see.
Chapter Twelve
Vince had never believed in shit like ESP, but he had to wonder about it now. From the moment he’d walked out of that kitchen, he’d been sure that he would see Grace.
And there she was. On the stairs coming straight toward him.
Of course, maybe it wasn’t ESP or any other shit. Maybe just a plain old coincidence. After all, there were only four people in the house, and even though it was a big-assed place, it seemed reasonable that they’d run into each other. What wasn’t reasonable, however, was this attraction.
Man, it was like he was a horny teenager again. His dick always looking for a place to play.
As if she knew exactly what he was thinking, Grace’s gaze dropped to the front of his jeans. His jeans weren’t tight exactly, but they were snug enough for her to see the erection she’d caused. Or maybe Dana had caused.
Yeah, the horny teenager theory had some merit.
“It’s the danger that’s feeding those emotions and reactions,” she said.
“Funny, I wasn’t thinking of danger when I got it.”
She scowled but looked in the direction of his crotch again. “Well, you can tell your little buddy there that he got all excited for nothing. What we’re feeling for each other isn’t real.”
Vince bit back a smile. Then, a scowl. “Or maybe it’s as real as it gets.”
“You’re just trying to get laid.” Her gaze drifted to the stairs. “Or trying to forget what’s going on up there with Jack and Dana.”
“Maybe both. But more of the first.”
“Figures.” Grace cocked her head to the side, folded her arms over her chest. “Look, I think you should know right up front that I’m not normal in the getting-laid department.”
Vince went with the cocky approach since he was already wearing his cock on his sleeve. “You have a sex change?”
“No.” Grace stretched that out a few syllables. “I was just raised by an insane mother who thought sex was a sin. She watched me bathe, dress, pee, you-name-it. She stitched crucifixes on my panties, and she set up a camera in my room to make sure I didn’t masturbate.”
That took his cockiness down a big notch. “I’m sorry.”
Her glare softened a bit, too. “You sound like you mean that.”
Her whispered name came from his mouth before he could stop it. “I do. You shouldn’t have had to live like that.”
“No one should.”
The old hurt was still fresh enough for him to feel. It softened his erection. Softened the rest of him, too, and in the back of his mind, the thought came--he wished he’d been there to protect her.
Vince shook off that thought. “So what'd you do to survive that?”
Grace looked his straight in the eyes. “First chance I got, I fucked most of the football team. A cheerleader, too.”
If that was meant to shock him, it worked, and Vince didn’t shock that easy. “A cheerleader, huh? You told Dana you weren’t wired that way.”
“I’m not.” A smile came and went just as quickly. “It was just a failed experiment, like the football team.”
For reasons he didn’t want to think about, it was good that Grace wasn’t into acting-out fucks. Those were rarely a good choice. And Vince should know because he’d been on both the giving and receiving end a couple of times.
“So what makes you abnormal?” he asked.
“I don’t enjoy sex.” She shoved her hair from her face, groaned softly. “Yeah, the starting is always good. My body revs up in the right way. It feels nice. And I’ve gotten close to an orgasm, but it always slips away. The images of my mother creep in and ruin everything.
“I’ll bet. Hard to cum with your mother fucking around in your head.” He paused. “Maybe you’ve just been with the wrong men. And woman.”
The corner of her mouth lifted. “You’re trying to get laid,” she repeated.
“Yeah, I am." He looked at the stairs. “And maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with them after all. Maybe this is just between us.�
�
“Maybe you should take a cold shower. It always works for me.”
He glanced at her damp hair. “What made you have to take a cold shower tonight?”
Her eyes narrowed a bit. “You want me to say it?”
“Well, you haven’t had trouble saying anything else. It’s possible you just told me shit that even your shrink doesn’t know.”
She laughed. It was short, too short, and she pressed her hand over her mouth to stop it.
Vince couldn’t help himself. He stepped closer toward her, leaned in took in her scent.
Grace didn’t freeze exactly, but she did give him a strange look. “You’re smelling me?”
“I got a whiff of you at the apartment complex, but the rain and the smoke muted everything.” Not now though. She smelled like Christmas. Not the fake Christmas that people put in stores and on their lawns. But that smell of anticipation.
“What’s the verdict?” Grace asked, and she looked afraid of what the answer might be.
“Sex,” he settled for saying.
Her left eyebrow slid up, and for a moment he thought she might call him on the lie. She didn’t. Grace leaned in to him, put her cheek right on his and drew in her breath.
“Whiskey,” she whispered. She paused. “And Christmas.”
Vince snapped back to meet her gaze. Was she reading his mind? He didn’t believe in mind reading crap either, but for some reason he believed in Grace.
“I need to go back to my room.” She fluttered her now trembling fingers toward it. Her mouth was trembling a little, too. “Before I do something that I can’t undo.”
“Go for it, Grace,” he dared her.
She stared at him. And stared. She licked her lips before moving closer, and for a moment Vince thought she might kiss him.
She didn’t.
Grace slid her arms around him and pulled him to her. Her body landed against his. Sweet torturous contact. Her mouth gaze his neck, and then just like that, she pulled back.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
“Don’t be.”
She glanced down at his zipper area again. “I’m not a cockteaser.”
“Never thought you were.”
“But I did that to you,” she pointed out.
“Yeah.” Vince felt as if he was on some Purgatory roller coaster ride headed straight for hell.
“Looks like you need a cold shower now.” Grace caught onto his hand and shoved it against his erection. “Or you can take matters into your own hand.” She ducked around him and headed downstairs.
Now, Vince laughed.
Oh, man. She was going to be trouble. And if he wasn’t careful, a serious distraction.
He looked up at the camera that was mounted at the top of the stairs, and he gave Jack a wave. He might not be watching right now, but in case he was, Vince knew it would rile his look-alike.
With that petty mission accomplished, Vince started for his room. He needed that cold shower, bad, but first he had to put some security measures in place. If all hell broke loose, and it eventually would, he had to have a way of getting Grace and Dana out of there.
Chapter Thirteen
Jack parked the car in the back of the vacant one-story office building and glanced around. It’d been a long ride to get there. Well over an hour. A long time considering the place was only about fifteen miles from the safe house, but he’d taken turn after turn to make sure no one had followed them. He would have to be even more vigilant on the return trip because it was possible someone had followed Dr. Janski and would in turn try to follow Jack and Dana.
Of course, it was possible that Janski would be the one trying to follow them. As far as Jack was concerned, the man was a prime murder suspect. Anyone with an association with Dr. Hartwell was.
“Worried?” Dana asked.
“Cautious.” And worried. But Jack tried not to show that. Dana already had enough worry on her face without his adding more.
Jack studied their surrounding. There were three other vehicles in the parking lot. A silver Jaguar that belonged to Dr. Janski. The other two were from his own security company.
One of his PIs, Anthony Garza, was inside, to make sure the place was secure. Another PI was out front. A third was on the roof. Several more were on standby in case something went wrong.
It was early, still before eight a.m. so there weren’t many people out and about. The front door was locked and would stay that way until this meeting was over.
“Any bad vibes?” Dana pressed. She, too, was looking around for any possible signs of danger.
Oh, yeah. Like worries, he also had bad vibes, but he kept them to himself.
“You look nice,” he let her know. It was the truth, but maybe it’d calm her nerves and get her mind on something else other than this meeting.
“Thanks,” she mumbled, smoothing her hand over the black dress that Rusty had brought over earlier that morning.
Jack had instructed Rusty to bring them both clothes that were nondescript, something that wouldn’t stand out in a crowd. The dress was that all right. Simple, straight cut, no frills. Ditto for the makeup. But since Dana was in the dress and wearing the makeup, it made them stand out for Jack.
“You look nice, too,” she added and gave him a lifted eyebrow. Probably because she’d known that his compliment was a ploy.
She touched the stiff white collar of his shirt. Business clothes. One of his usual dark gray suits with a jacket. It wasn’t especially cold this morning, but he’d needed the jacket to conceal his shoulder holster and Glock. And that wasn’t the only firepower Jack had brought along. He was carrying another weapon in the back waist of his pants.
While he waited to get the all-clear from Anthony Garza, Jack made a quick call to Rusty back at the safe house, and he put it on speaker so that Dana could hear.
“Where are our other halves?” Jack asked.
“Having breakfast in the kitchen. Vince isn’t happy about being left out of this meeting.”
Jack hadn’t figured he would be. “What'd you tell him?”
“As little as possible, just as you instructed. But brace yourself for a lot of questions when you get back.”
Jack would and maybe, just maybe, he’d have some answers for the CIA killer under his borrowed roof. “Make sure neither of them leaves,” he insisted. Yeah, he was repeating himself, but he didn’t want Vince trying to follow them and in doing so, leading the killer right back to them.
Anthony opened the back entrance and motioned for them to come in.
“Gotta go,” Jack told Rusty, and he ended the call. Turned to Dana.
“Yes, I know,” she said before he could speak. “I’m not supposed to take any chances, and I’m to let you ask the questions.”
Well, she had listened. Maybe now she’d follow the rules.
Jack got her out of the car and into the building as fast as he could. The place wasn’t big, and once they were past a cluster of offices and meeting rooms, they entered the reception area. It was poorly lit, but there was enough light for Jack to see another of his PI’s in the hall. There was only one person seated in the waiting area, and Jack recognized him from his photo that’d been included in one of the reports.
Dr. August Janski.
Jack knew from that report that the man was fifty-eight, but he looked much younger. His neatly trimmed blond hair had just a few strands of gray at the temples, and the only wrinkles were around the corners of his eyes. With his hand extended in greeting, he moved like a younger man, too. He got up from the chair and made a beeline toward them, but Jack automatically stepped in front of Dana.
“Mr. Cain,” the doctor said. His hand dropped back to his side. He didn’t smile, but there was nothing hostile about his expression either. If Jack had to put a label on him, he just looked interested. Especially in Dana.
His gaze went straight to her.
Dana didn’t cower behind Jack, but she didn’t exactly step out.
; Janski fished out a pair of glasses from his jacket pocket, plopped them on and pinned his attention to her. “My God. It’s uncanny,” he mumbled. And he repeated it when he turned that gaze on Jack. “You look exactly like them.”
Them.
Now, that was an interesting pronoun, and it meant Janski knew more about this meeting than he should have.
“I know who you are,” Janski said, still studying them. “When your man called to arrange this meeting, I did an internet search.”
There was a lot of that going on. Jack decided to wait out the doctor to see what more he’d volunteer. He didn’t have to wait long.
“Smile for me,” the man said to Dana.
She glanced at Jack first, and even though he didn’t give her to go-ahead, she attempted a smile.
Janski smiled, too. “Identical.” He made a sound of exhilarated surprise, clapped and then sank down onto the nearby chair. “You’ll have to excuse me. I’d braced myself to come face to face with Layton’s twin but not Alyssa’s. Not her,” he added in a hoarse mumble.
Her. Another interesting pronoun. There was plenty of emotion in that one little word.
“You think we’re their twins?” Dana asked.
Now, she did step out and stood next to Jack. He didn’t exactly approve, but then the doctor didn’t look as if he were about to shoot them with barbiturate-filled darts and attempt to strangle them. Maybe that had something to do with the fact that Jack had two armed men hovering over and nearby.
Janski stared at her before he took off his glasses and shoved them back in his pocket. His exhilaration wasn’t as strong now, and it seemed to be morphing into sadness. Or something.
“Twins,” Janski repeated. “That’s why you’re here, of course. You’d want to know who you are.” His gaze drifted away, and his forehead bunched up.
“Who are we?” Jack demanded.
Janski shook his head. “Does this have something to do with Dr. Hartwell’s death? Did she contact you before she passed?”
Jack didn’t like the fact that Janski had more question than they did. Or else he was pretending to have them.
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