by Lisa Eugene
Maggie nodded, impressed. She’d heard of Masters Communications. She’d seen their commercials on television and the company emblem MC on various electronic devices. In fact, when she turned on her cell phone the emblem popped up then faded away. She knew the company dealt with electronics and communication software. She never knew they had dealings with the military, though.
“Hmmm…what if it’s not her on the computer?”
“That’s another problem. There’s no way for me to know that someone hasn’t logged in to one of these sites using her codes.”
“Will she be able to send messages to us?” She used cotton to dab a small drop of blood that beaded at the edge of the wound.
“Yes, but we can’t talk for long periods.”
Maggie frowned and he expounded. “Think of it as a computer phone call. Like an IM. Someone with the right technology can trace the program signature back to its origin. We’ll have to keep our conversations brief. Also, I’ll have to figure out a way to chronologically auto-degrade the program so there’s no record of it.”
“English, please.”
He gave a boyish grin. “The messages would self-destruct.”
She caught her lip between her teeth and studied him, smiling. “Were you a computer geek in school?”
He nodded. “I was. Still am, but everyone says I inherited my father’s love for all things electronic.”
She held her breath, wishing for him to continue. She knew so very little about him that every tasty morsel he fed her made her crave more.
Instead, he ran his fingers through his hair and bobbed his dimpled chin at her instruments.
“All done?”
She took a step back to examine her handiwork. He followed her gaze.
“Well, Nurse Ratched?”
She wrinkled her nose at him, and then returned her gaze to the well approximated edges of his wound.
“Looks great. No sign of infection. You heal well. Just need to keep it covered for about another—”
Her last words were smothered as he pulled her forward, lowered her head and possessed her mouth with a drugging hunger. His tongue worked languidly into her warm heat, luring a moan from her chest. He sucked and licked her lips, attuned to her responses. She ran the palm of her hand across the smooth skin of his shoulders and back, enjoying the rollercoaster of muscles beneath her touch. Her fingers combed through his thick hair. Winded, she pulled back.
“Wait…when will we try to contact Dr. Rollins?”
“I’ll start working on it after.”
Bemused, she inquired, “After what?”
“After my playdate with the girls.”
Gabe pushed back from the table and uncoiled his large frame from the chair in one smooth stretch. He’d been staring at the screen for hours now while working on his intricate programming, and spots were starting to blur his over taxed vision. Earlier he’d moved the desk and computer into the alcove of the master bedroom and pushed aside the tufted fainting sofa and Windsor settee. All his mother’s furniture. He remembered the calm simplicity of Maggie’s apartment. He, like his father, never cared much for frippery. He remembered his dad’s growling complaints whenever his mother wanted to drag him antiquing.
Gabe smiled nostalgically. Jack would suddenly remember that he’d promised to take him hunting or to the track to race their cars. The two of them had been inseparable. More like brothers than father and son. Gabe swallowed at the painful knot in his throat, trying to work it down before it choked him. He couldn’t believe he was in this house. They’d spent so much time here. He struggled to suppress the memories. He couldn’t afford to let them take over, not when he still had so much work to do. He had to stay focused. A growl from his stomach reminded him it was almost dinner time, and he turned around, wondering where Maggie was.
When last he’d seen her she’d been helping Cyril put away the groceries he’d brought back from the market. She’d beamed when he’d handed her the bag of clothes that Gabe had put on the list. A smile tugged at his mouth as he recalled the way her pale blue eyes had lit up like polished diamonds. He checked his watch and frowned. That had been over an hour ago. He’d also allowed her another phone call to work and to her family. Although she’d complained about his hovering, he’d still coached her on what to say.
He called her name as his long legs carried him from the room into the wide hall. He pushed opened the door to several of the bedrooms upstairs and found them empty. Returning to the hall, he called her name again. He was greeted by a hollow silence that dripped anxiety down his back and froze a block of ice in his chest. Fighting his rising panic, he paced down the long hall, now reckless in his search for her. He palmed his Glock. Although he’d checked the perimeter of the house and enabled the alarms on the grounds, he’d cautioned her not to go out without him. His lips tightened angrily. He’d wring her neck if she disobeyed! He’d tie her to the bloody four poster bed and keep her there until she learned never to cause him such alarm!
He found her in the laundry room on the first floor. The whir of the machines must have drowned out his calls to her. He let loose an anemic breath and squeezed his eyes shut. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he willed his galloping heart to slow.
“Shit, Maggie.” He holstered his gun.
She raised her blonde head and confusion changed to understanding when she saw his face. She put aside the clothes she’d been folding and went to him, sliding her arms around his waist. He felt the billowing warmth of her body and his world resumed its steady revolutions.
“I’m okay. I was just doing some laundry.” She smiled up at him. Obviously trying to lighten his mood, she said. “I’m washing the sheets in hot water to save you from having to blow dry them.”
He pulled her flat against him and hugged her close.
“Goodie,” he said dryly, and then tilted her chin up so she faced him. “If you plan on being tucked away for a while, just let me know your whereabouts, okay?”
She nodded.
“Hungry? I can whip something up for us,” he said, his eyes drawn to the washer. He realized his laundry was in there too.
Her gaze tracked his and he saw the heat spread across her face. She shrugged uneasily. “I was doing mine, so I figured I’d toss in yours too. No biggie.”
Gabe nodded, a different alarm ringing in his ears. He was touched by her actions, but found the domesticity unnerving. It reminded him of impossible things, like struggling to capture a cloud or trying to hold water in his palms. It reminded him of things he could never possess. He pulled away, needing some distance.
“I’ll get started on dinner.”
She shook her blonde waves, frowning slightly. “No need. Cyril brought over dinner. It’s in the fridge.”
“Great. I’ll set everything up. Meet me in a few.” He kissed her chastely and turned away, his earlier panic replaced by a bitter-sweet longing mingled with cold harsh reality.
It took longer than Gabe had anticipated to set up the contact program, and it was well into the night when he sat back with a satisfied sigh and pointed to the cursor on the left upper corner of the black screen. He could feel Maggie’s warm breath brushing his neck as she hovered behind him, and the sensation arrowed straight to his eager staff. It twitched and reared in his pants, and he had to shift in the seat to relieve some of the pressure on his neglected member. It was well past midnight and the feeble glow of his desk lamp illuminated the alcove.
He cleared his throat gruffly and tried to focus. “So, that cursor will start blinking when she’s logged on to any of her usual sites.”
“What if we’re asleep?”
“I intend to make some modifications for an auditory signal as well.”
“Okay,” Maggie responded with an indelicate yawn, blowing a tingly gust of air down his back. His muscles huddled together in avid response.
Gabe turned his head, examining her profile. The dim light sketched darkness along her cheekbone and jaw, accentuati
ng the beautiful angles of her face. He could tell she was tired. She’d been dozing off as she’d watched him, snoring intermittently. The sound had become a background symphony for his tedious work. He smiled and pulled her onto his lap, digging his nose into the side of her neck. God, although he knew the danger, he had such a hard time keeping his hands off her.
He inhaled deeply. He loved the way she smelled. Like early morning after a good long rain. Fresh and inviting. The scent made his balls draw up close and he groaned against the shell of her ear. She tilted her neck to give him better access and he left a trail of wet kisses on her nape. His penis poked a hole in his jeans, snuggling against her gyrating backside. Temptress! Even in the dark he could discern her arousal. The underside of her breast swayed against the arm he had banded around her upper abdomen. Through her thin tank top he could feel their warmth. He also knew she wasn’t wearing any panties, and the thought sent fire racing along his shaft.
Damn, he wanted her badly, but he needed to finish his modifications, and he also wanted to make some more headway with the research on the flash drive. Something visceral urged him to continue reading it. Its technical aspects made analysis difficult and mostly soporific, but he was able to decipher most of what he read and stave off the tedium. He was surprised at how much of the theories and research involved the study of the human genome and identification of characteristics on DNA. It fascinated him.
Also, Cane’s cryptic words still bothered him. They pinged around in his head like it was as pinball machine, alighting ideas that were fleeting and lead nowhere. What were the other problems he’d alluded to? Had he been just trying to rattle him?
“It’s late. I’ll be up for a little while longer. You should go to bed,” he urged, tucking a silky lock behind her ear and loving the soft texture.
Her darkened lashes fluttered downward, and he could sense her quiet disappointment. He also sensed a tenuous vulnerability and the tiniest hint of insecurity. Surely she didn’t take his words for rejection? He jerked his hips up and slanted his mouth over hers for a voracious exploration. He swept his tongue deep into her mouth and swallowed her groan, submitting to his incessant hunger. Every stroke of his tongue and every push of his hardness declared his need and told her just how ridiculously sexy he found her to be.
He pulled back, panting. “If you don’t get off my lap right now, you’re going to be naked and riding me until this thing in my pants calms down!”
He felt her body stiffen with need, then she swiped her tongue along the line of his lips. He groaned deeply and arched his hips against her, bumping the sensitive head of his cock against her pelvis. He vacuumed air into his lungs and shuddered with the resonating pleasure. Grinning, she scooted quickly off his lap, just outside the grasping circle of his arms.
“Shit, Maggie. You drive me crazy.” His chest heaved. To hell with his work!
“Goodnight, Gabe.” She’d drifted into the darkness of the room and was now a disembodied voice.
“Come here and finish this.”
Her sexy chuckle surrounded him. Filled his ears. Filled his head. Filled his cock with even more blood.
“You have work to do.”
He tried to take a calming breath, searching for his practiced patience.
“Seriously. The sooner we make contact the better.”
Her words stunned him, doused over him like a bucket of iced water. Hadn’t that been his sentiment? Didn’t he want this to be over with? Didn’t he want her to go back to her life? Him to his? Hadn’t he been concerned about them becoming too complacent, domestic? Somehow, coming from her the idea seemed completely unacceptable.
Two days later Maggie tried to push aside her disappointment and anxiety. She and Gabe were both paying assiduous attention to the cursor on the computer screen, and it continued to stare inertly back at them. She was starting to despair that they would never contact Dr. Rollins. Perhaps she and Gabe should come up with an alternate plan, like maybe just turning the research over to the authorities and going public with what they knew about Cane. Although, she still worried about what the consequences would be for Gabe. He was the one who’d actually stolen the data, and he’d killed a few people. Maggie winced, feeling the blood drain from her face at the thought. It was only in self-defense! He’d never murder someone in cold blood.
“Are you okay, darling?”
The musical voice came from Ronnie Broves. She was sitting across from her at the mammoth granite island in the sunny kitchen. Maggie nodded and took a sip of the steaming coffee she’d found already brewing when she’d come down stairs. It was a deliciously potent blend of flavors, and seemed to massage her throat on its way down. Her eyes scanned the kind face of the woman before her, and she again marveled at the regal beauty of the African-American woman. Ronnie had to be in her early sixties, or perhaps even older, but her smooth dark skin, expressive countenance, and sage mahogany eyes belied her age and gave her the appearance of one at least ten years younger. In the past two days she’d been a source of female friendship and light joviality that brightened Maggie’s spirits and kept her distracted from her worries. She could understand why Gabe seemed so fond of the couple.
“Tell me about him,” she heard herself say, and by the expression that crossed Ronnie’s face, she knew the older women knew immediately the identity of the ‘him’ in her inquiry.
Maggie watched her brown eyes turn opaque then sparkle as a smile spread across her face.
“Gabriel has always been very intense—even as a boy.”
Intense. She rubbed her hands along her cheeks. That was putting it mildly.
“He’s always been very passionate in everything he does. An over-achiever. A lot like his father.” Her gaze drifted into the distance. “And he’s always hardest on himself.”
Maggie listened to the lilting words, the soft quality was almost hypnotic. She felt like there were other questions she should be asking, but didn’t know what. From what she gathered, Gabe’s family had been visiting these close friends from the time he was a boy, spending part of the summer at this lovely house. The caretakers didn’t seem to mind them squatting for a while.
“He’s kind, brave, stubborn, exceptionally brilliant, generous, and passionate.” Her lids flipped up and the dark eyes consumed her. “But, Maggie, you already know all these things.”
Maggie’s brows wrinkled and crimson stained her cheeks. “Oh. Uuum…we’re just friends, really.” Friends. If you could call them that. Friends with benefits… She cleared her throat awkwardly. “It’s not what you think.”
“It’s what I know.” Ronnie picked up her cup and took a sip, then sent her an enigmatic smile. “I see the way his eyes shine when he looks at you.”
Maggie shook her head. Maybe because they’re reflecting the overhead light—or maybe because he’s horny, a wicked voice added. That’s all there was between them. They just had amazing chemistry. Certainly his eyes didn’t shine for any other reason. She’d seen the look on his face when she’d dared to do his laundry. He was ready to run. She frustrated the hell out of him. He wanted her gone ASAP. And she wanted out of there too. Really!
“The heart is sometimes the last to speak the truth.”
Maggie exhaled a nervous laugh, uncomfortable with the sagacious gaze.
“I—” Whatever she was about to say was truncated by Gabe coming through the kitchen door. He filled her vision when she turned her head. Dear God! She bit back a groan.
He had gone out for a run. She guessed he’d felt comfortable leaving since Ronnie had been visiting. She let her gaze rove over his tight body. He was shirtless and in sweat pants that rode low on his hips. His smooth brawny chest and wide shoulders were honed with hills of rolling muscle that glistened from the effort of his run. He’d tied his dark hair back, revealing the noble lines of his masculine face, the appealing angles and the sinful curve of his lips. His powerful thighs were outlined beneath the sweats, and Maggie felt her face blush when she real
ized she was eagerly feasting on his body. She looked up and met Ronnie’s perspicacious gaze and blushed even hotter.
Even a blind woman would take notice! She wanted to explain in her defense. Instead, she became preoccupied with the gentle swirl of the beautiful pattern on the fine green china.
Gabe crossed the hard wood floor and approached the island.
“Something smells great.” He shot a warm smile at Ronnie and reached over her to pluck one of her pastries from a plate. He gobbled it down in one bite. “These are my favorite!”
Maggie smiled at the boyish joy on his face. She watched as his jaw worked the flaky Danish. He winked at her and kept shoveling pastries into his mouth until Ronnie’s hand snaked out and playfully slapped his fingers.
“Save some for Maggie, Gabriel!” she scolded. “Plus, you’re all sweaty and dirty from running!”
Maggie’s gaze instantly met his over Ronnie’s head, and she almost melted at the heated look in his eyes. She felt her cheeks blaze again when he shot her a tantalizing grin, showing his even white teeth. She could just hear his silent response to Ronnie. It was probably something about her liking him dirty. He wiggled his eyebrows at her, and she looked down, trying to hide her smile.
“It’s getting late. I forgot I promised Cyril I’d help him in the yard.” Ronnie slid off her stool and with a wide smile bid them goodbye. It was obvious she’d noticed what had passed between them.
Maggie blushed again. God, she was a mess! How could one man be so disconcerting? How old was she?
“What do you think of the coffee?” Gabe asked, nodding towards her tea cup.
“It’s delicious.” She grinned, remembering his promise. “Definitely making my mouth water.” Like your hot body!
He smiled broadly, circling around the large slab of heavily veined granite. “I’m glad. I didn’t try it.”
Her heart pattered in her chest. “No? Would you like some?”