“I know. You’re speaking of Ms. Colby Parks.”
Mace gripped the phone tighter. “You know?”
“Of course. I wasn’t going to let you walk unknowingly into a situation which might be dangerous.”
“Don’t make me laugh. Everything I do, every situation you send me into, is dangerous.” Mace glanced at the full gun clip still sitting on his nightstand. He picked it up and studied it. Out of habit, he pushed the top round with his thumb, testing the tightness of the clip’s spring. It was a motion he’d done thousands of times, for some reason it gave him comfort. “Speaking of dangerous, she almost shot me thinking I was a burglar. It would have been nice if you’d warned me.”
He thought he heard a chuckle, or it might just have been choking, on the other end.
“It wouldn’t have been any fun, though. Maybe she’ll keep you on your toes, keep you from getting fat and lazy during your little recuperation.” His next response was dead serious. “I had her checked out.”
“Now why doesn’t that surprise me? Actually, you beat me to it. I was going to call the Bureau today.” He placed the clip next to his parents’ framed picture. “So you know my sister is married and on her honeymoon?”
“Yes. She married over a month ago. She told me, but I couldn’t inform you. It was sort of bad timing. First, you were too deep undercover. And then with your little mishap, well, I didn’t want you to be bothered.”
Little mishap.
“Right.” Mace gave a dry laugh. “Do you at least know who she married, where she went?”
No matter how many times he’d tried to coax the information out of Colby, she’d clam up and tell him to find out for himself. She believed if Maxi wanted him to know, she would have told him. It was untrue. He wanted to explain it had to do with the circumstances of his career, but Mace decided it wasn’t worth arguing over. He had to pick his battles and he preferred the one where he worked on getting Colby comfortable enough with him to get naked.
He smiled at the image. But his boss’ voice broke into his thoughts, ruining his fantasy.
“Of course. I know everything. She married the banker who backed Ms. Parks’ atrocious project, the one on Shady Lane. That’s how your sister met Ms. Parks. Do you like her?”
Mace ignored the question. “She’s horrifying with a gun.”
“Yes, a Glock…”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You know everything. You’re too thorough.”
“I have to be. Our lives depend on it, Walker. I assume you don’t want me to tell you everything about her. A mysterious woman is so much more exciting.” Mace heard papers rustling on the other end of the line. “I hope you’ll keep up your physical therapy—and I don’t mean naked romper room with Ms. Parks. Try to heal quickly. I might need you to replace another agent on assignment. He’s getting too personally involved.”
“A woman?”
“Mmm. Unfortunately, she’s on the wrong side.”
“A fatal mistake,” Mace said. “But, of course, you know that. If possible, I’d like to stick around for a couple months.”
“Until your sister returns from abroad?”
“Is that where she is?”
“Yes, her new husband has family in England. They decided to tour Europe.” The man laughed. “It has to be you want to wait around to see your sister. I can’t imagine you’d want to stay just to help Ms. Parks fix up her ugly, old house.”
“It really isn’t so bad.” Did he actually just say that?
“And she’s worth it even if it is, right? Maybe she’ll help you feel better. Have her help with your leg exercises.”
Mace heard him chuckle. Perhaps a couple months around Colby would make him feel better. If she was willing. “Does Maxi even know what happened?” There was a telling silence. Of course not, otherwise his baby sister wouldn’t have gone off to Europe.
She would have been worried sick. She would have put off her wedding, put her life on hold. Maybe it was better Maxi didn’t know.
The man cleared his throat. “I’ll keep in touch.”
Mace stared at the cell for a moment before snapping it shut and throwing it on the bed.
Now that he knew his boss hadn’t called yesterday, he thought about Colby’s reaction. Why was she all shook up from one hang-up? Okay two; there had been one later in the evening. But he had gotten to the phone first and it had been just a quick click and a dial tone.
Mace had played the second one off as another wrong number since Colby had been in earshot. He ended up telling her someone was trying to order Chinese food and had misdialed. Whether she believed him or not, who knew, but at least she hadn’t freaked like the last time.
When he’d asked her whether the hang-ups had been a reoccurring thing before he’d come home, she changed the subject. He had let it go. For now. But he was going to get to the bottom of it one way or another.
———
Late in the afternoon, Mace heard a car drive up and opened the front door to see who it was. He surprised himself; he never even looked out the peephole first. It felt good to be able to open a door without fear of some thug blowing holes in him. Three days home and he was starting to relax.
He was pleased to see it was Colby. She parked a bright red, but older, convertible next to his not so bright, old Ford truck. He spotted the groceries in the back seat and went to help her.
“Sharp,” he said, snagging a couple of the brown paper bags.
Colby handed him a third and grabbed one herself. “Me or the car?”
“Both. I didn’t think you had a vehicle.”
“It was at the garage. Needed a water pump.”
He followed her into the house. “Yeah? Too bad I didn’t arrive sooner. I’m great with cars.”
“And women?”
“Them too.”
“Did you learn your mechanical skills at—”
Mace dropped the grocery bags on the kitchen table in time to cover her mouth with his hand. “Don’t. I’ve had enough of your jailhouse wisecracks.”
His fingers against her warm, moist lips immediately sent a shock wave down to his groin. He wanted to run his thumb along her bottom lip and then dip it into her mouth. In and out. Until it was wet. He would follow his thumb with his tongue. And other things.
Or just one other thing: his aching, swollen cock. His eyelids lowered with need until Colby stepped away from him, breaking his contact. Breaking into his thoughts.
“Too close to home?” she asked, her voice a little shaky.
Good. Maybe he was getting to her like she was getting to him. “No.”
“So tell me what you do for a living.”
He broke eye contact first, because if he hadn’t he would have pushed her Miss Proper skirt up and slammed his cock home very improper-like against the kitchen cabinet. Frontward, backward, he wasn’t going to be picky.
He concentrated hard on the subject at hand. “You first. What do you do with your days, Ms. Parks?”
“I think you’re avoiding the question. Finish carrying in the groceries while I unpack them, and then, and only then, I might play your little game, Mr. Walker.”
If she only knew what game he really wanted to play with her…
He behaved himself and brought in the rest of the bags. Settling into a chair, he regarded Colby while she started dinner.
“Are you a chauvinist? Don’t you cook or clean or do laundry?”
Mace smiled. “I try to avoid it at all costs.”
“So who normally does all your domestic duties?”
“Here we go with the questions again. You still have to answer mine.”
She gave a little shrug. “Fine.”
Mace moved behind Colby and saw her start when she turned around, finding him so close. He was close enough to feel her heat. It was almost enough to make him lose his mind.
“What are you doing?”
The tremble in her voice caught his attention, and threw a little cold water on his
steaming hot libido. “Helping. I assume that’s what you wanted when you started in on the chauvinist crap.”
Colby looked relieved.
Three days had gone by. They’d eaten meals together, watched TV and he had even helped her paint her yellow kitchen. Not to mention the make-out session in the hallway yesterday. But she still hasn’t relaxed around me yet.
Thinking about their up-close and personal time on Sunday made his libido snap right back up to attention. But he had to watch his step. He wanted to get down and dirty with her, discover all her secrets, but he couldn’t push too hard. Not yet. He didn’t want to scare her away. Hell, if he wasn’t careful the sexual tension was going to kill him.
“You’ve read my mind. You can make the salad.”
If they were reading each other’s minds, he was in trouble. Because right now his mind was dirty, dirty, so fucking dirty. He imagined digging his fingers deep into her fireball mane of hair while she sucked him off. She would be on her knees and he would be guiding her head back and forth, back and forth. The wet mouth around his cock, little moans escaping her lips…
Mace bit off a groan and removed the rinsed vegetables out of the colander, where they’d been drip-drying. He grabbed a cutting board and sat back down at the table to chop them up. He had to concentrate on something else. Like lettuce.
“Can’t you chop them here at the counter?”
“No. Sometimes, I can’t stand on my leg too long.”
Mace felt her eyes on him, studying his legs. Damn. He wished it were her hands following the lines of his jeans instead. She was not helping him get his mind out of the gutter. Although she didn’t know what he was thinking, thankfully. Or not.
“Why?”
He raised an eyebrow in her direction.
“Okay, I’ll tell you about me first, you big party-pooper.” After Colby placed two thick steaks on the broiler pan and got some baby red potatoes boiling, she turned to face him, leaning back against the counter. He was glad to see she seemed a bit more comfortable.
“I’m a biochemist.”
“Wow, that’s impressive.” Mace clumsily peeled a carrot, attempting to keep the long orange strips in a pile. Concentrating on the vegetables was helping to relieve some of the tension within him. “What’s that?” He looked up from his detested work when he heard her laugh.
Hands planted on her hips, she looked at him in astonishment. “How could something impress you when you don’t know what it is?”
“It’s why I’m impressed. I never said I was smart.”
“I thought all inmates had a right to an education.” She raised her arms up in surrender at his grimace. “Sorry. I promise, no more digs.” She grabbed the dishtowel which hung over the oven door handle and wiped her hands. She drifted over to the table and snagged a stalk of celery to munch on. “I specialize in the chemical composition and behavior of living organisms. I work for Malvern University.”
If she was trying to dumbfound him, she succeeded. He couldn’t have felt dumber.
“Can you elaborate a little more? I think you lost me.”
“I study the effects of food or hormones, or even drugs, on living things.”
Ah, clarity. “Like people?” I could tell you about the effects of drugs on people.
“People, animals, plants. Whatever.” Colby pointed the ragged stub of celery in his direction. “Whatever the University wants me to do, I do. They’re the ones paying my salary.”
“I bet it’s a pretty nice salary too.”
“It could be better. I only have my masters. To earn more I’d need my Ph.D.”
Only has her masters. Shee-it. “Are you considering it?” He took the two salad bowls Colby handed him and filled them with the unevenly chopped veggies. “Going back to school, I mean.”
“No. I enjoy working in the lab and in the field. I don’t want an administrative position. No matter how much they earn.”
“I can understand. I wouldn’t want to be stuck behind a desk either.” Mace caught the towel Colby tossed to him and wiped his hands. “How did you get to work this morning? I would have given you a ride. The University isn’t very close.”
“Martin, my assistant. He was kind enough to pick me up this morning and drop me off at the garage after work. He’s a nice guy.”
“Just nice, huh?” Mace wondered if there was more. He waited, but she said nothing more on her co-worker.
Malvern University. He truly was impressed. It was a prestigious school and he was sure her job paid well. His parents had moved to this college “town” when he and Maxi were young. Their professor father taught there until he died. Maxi also ended up going to school there. Mace had different ideas when he went to college; he found the farthest college from home in the lower forty-eight to go to. Like he could have gotten into Malvern in the first place…
“So what’s with the leg?” Colby asked, jolting him back to the present.
“I was shot.” Her question was so unexpected he answered before he could think about it. Damn.
Her brows lifted in surprise. “So you weren’t kidding? What, in a prison riot?” The color in her cheeks darkened when she realized what she had said. “I’m sorry. If you would just tell me what you do for a living, I’d knock it off.”
“Why is it so important? What if I just like to travel around like a bum?”
“Why would you want to when you have a nice home here?”
“I don’t know. I get bored?”
“No. I don’t know what you’re hiding, but I won’t tell anyone. Promise.” She crossed her fingers and made an X with them over her heart.
Mace smiled at the gesture. He wanted to trust her. He really did. But after years and years of getting good at lies, it was hard to tell someone the truth. It was hard to step back into his “real life.” Or what he thought should be his real life.
“Can I see your leg?”
The question caught him off guard. Again. Mace put down the paring knife he was absently playing with—before he accidentally sliced off his finger. Did she want him to pull his pants down in the middle of the kitchen before dinner? Not that he minded stripping down for her, but he wanted to show her something besides his injury.
As if she read his mind, she quipped, “I don’t mean now. Later.”
“I thought you were a scientist. Not a doctor.”
“I’m still interested. A scientist is interested in all living things. And in this particular instance, I’m interested how metal affects human flesh.”
“Not very well, I can attest to that. It hurts and looks like hell. But if you really want to see it you have to promise to kiss it and make it better.”
She probably thought he was joking. He wasn’t. He believed if she would only place her sweet, luscious lips on his healing leg, all the hurt would disappear. Hell, it was worth a try.
“I promise.” She laughed.
Mace laughed too. She didn’t know he would make her keep her promise. “So tell me more about this Martin.”
She gave him her back. “He’s a nice guy I work with.”
And spent last Sunday morning with him at an auction and bargain hunting. Who knows what else. “Yeah, you already said that.”
“That about covers it.”
———
Colby looked up from the sitcom she was watching. The popcorn bowl she had balanced on her lap tilted dangerously. She caught it in time and placed it on the low coffee table which sat in front of the couch. “Oh, my God.”
Mace limped across the den toward her. He was wearing a pair of cut-off denim shorts. And nothing else. “I told you it wasn’t pretty.”
“Who did this to you?” she whispered. She reached out when he neared. Wanting to touch, but unsure, afraid. Without hesitation he stepped into her touch, his eyes closing.
“Please be gentle with me.”
Colby looked at his face to see if he was teasing. He wasn’t. She could see the pain etched across his face. The muscles
flexed in his jaw. She returned her attention to his leg, pushing the denim higher to get a better look. His thigh was little more than hamburger meat. The inner thigh muscle was half missing and she could see the outline of his thighbone. She could see what looked like seams to her, where the doctors had sewn the remaining skin together.
It must have been a hell of a big gun. She bit her lip, wondering how he could have endured the pain. “You’re lucky it wasn’t amputated.” Colby didn’t realize she had spoken aloud until she heard his snort and bitter words.
His dark eyes opened and bored into her. “I’m lucky the gun wasn’t pointed a few more inches to the left. I would have been missing something a little more important than a thigh muscle.”
He gritted his teeth and a bead of sweat appeared on his forehead when she cautiously, but lightly stroked the angry red skin with her fingertips. It was the softest touch but it still bothered him. Surprisingly, he didn’t pull away.
“Excuse me if I’m not very receptive to your soft touch right now. Normally I’d be at full attention.”
Colby immediately glanced at the V of his shorts, before looking away, heat crawling up her neck. She had fallen right into his trap. “Is that what I see you popping all the time—painkillers?”
“Do you blame me?”
“No. But there are more natural ways to ease pain. Herbal ways.”
“If you’re talking about holistic medicine, forget it. I’ll stick to the good ol’ American ways of popping a pill for every ache.” Mace dropped down on the couch beside her, dislodging her hand. He propped his leg on the table and picked up the remote control. “What are you watching?”
Colby snagged the remote out of his hands and switched the television off. She tossed it on the recliner a few feet away. Out of his reach. “No way. You are not getting out of this so easily. I want to know who did this and why.”
“Well, the why is easy. I’m sure a rocket—I mean biological—scientist can even figure that one out. He was trying to kill me.”
“Who? Why?” Why would anyone be trying to kill this man?
His hand dug harshly through his hair, leaving it looking like he had just gotten out of bed. “I can’t tell you the details, Colby. I can’t.” He grabbed the TV Guide from the coffee table, thumbed through it without really seeing its contents, before tossing it restlessly back onto the table.
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