by Jackie Ivie
“Cassie? Hmm. Great name. Totally fits.”
“Cassandra.”
She corrected him. He ignored it. After all, it was his house.
“You know, Cassie…I’m going out on a limb here but I rather like puzzles, and you’re definitely presenting one. You’re from England. Am I right?”
“Maybe.”
“No maybe about it, Babe. I’ve got a great ear for voices and accents. You’re definitely British. That accent is a dead giveaway.”
“I could be Australian.”
“No way. You speak the words with perfect accuracy. Aussies like to slur. I’ll take my guess a little deeper. I’m going to say…London. Born and bred. I’d say James Street, but it’s hidden behind an East end accent you’ve worked hard at. How am I doing?”
Her eyes weren’t narrowed anymore. He wouldn’t put it quite at wide-eyed, but her gaze had way too much impact through that little lace veil. He should probably find a towel. Or a robe. Or get back in the pool. Or…just pass all the bullshit jargon, and get naked.
With her.
That thought lifted more than goose-bumps. Pleasantly. Rapidly. He hiked a knee to keep it to himself for the moment.
“I’ve been known to frequent the area.”
She finally answered him as if he’d been wrong. Jake lifted one side of his mouth in the half-smile he was noted for. Most girls said it was his best feature. That was before they saw the entire package, of course.
“Right.”
Her frame lifted in a little sigh. “Oh, very well. I frequent the streets. The clubs. Sometimes the alleyways. The Underground. It’s good hunting ground.”
Wow. Did that mean what it sounded like? And just how did he get this lucky?
“Hunting.” He didn’t ask it. It wasn’t a question.
“Oh yes…hunting.”
Grant me stamina. Please.
“Just keep talking, Cassie. Anything. Say anything. Anything at all.”
“Why?”
“That accent. The view.” He whistled lightly. “I have to tell you Sweetheart, your hunt is over. For tonight anyway. And I mean over.”
“You really are cocky.”
She didn’t know the half of it. Jake snickered. “Your dossier missed that part? I suppose it missed the hefty bank account and genius IQ, too.”
“Oh no. Of specific note is a massive ego and just as massive bank account. There was a highlighted section about your intellect. And there was even a bit in there about your affectation to swimming timed laps. In heated pools.”
“I was a state champion swimmer, Love. Good thing. I’m lazy, otherwise. In case you missed it, swimming’s great for creating six-pack abs and then keeping them ripped. You ladies seem to appreciate that, and since I appreciate you ladies, it’s a double win.”
“Do you say anything that isn’t a come-hither?”
He ignored her jibe. He’d taken on tougher chicks than this one. It was a challenge and he loved those. It made their cries of pleasure when they melted even sweeter. He cleared his throat. “Swimming doesn’t do a thing for upper body size, though. I have to spend time working weights for that.”
“Hmm. The file did say a bit about a weight room. Track. Sauna. Spa. Jacuzzi. A fully-equipped regulation gymnasium.”
“You want to see it?”
“I’d rather see your gaming chamber.”
“Whoa. And here I thought you didn’t like come-hither remarks.”
“You really can be rather annoying.”
“I’d rather peg it persistent.”
She pursed her lips. As if expecting a kiss. And that just kicked his heart rate a bit faster. She had perfect lips, too. Kissable. That was basically all he could see of her face. It was enough. It didn’t matter what the rest of her looked like. That was odd, but in a good way. He was getting a bit of mystery with the snappy put-downs she kept spouting; each one demanding retribution. They were delivered with perfect precision with that throaty, warm, accented voice. He was enjoying every moment of this. It was intriguing. Absorbing. Captivating. Maybe too many other women were just too blatantly available, taking all the fun out of it.
“I refer to your game playing chamber,” she informed him.
“Me too. I’ve got an extra-outsized king bed, too. Special ordered. Perfect for playing the oldest and best game in the world, Love.”
“If I called you annoying, I was mistaken. Obnoxious is more appropriate.”
“Thank you. I do try.”
“You’re trying to be obnoxious?”
“Not really…but if it works, I’m all for it.”
“Works at what?”
“Interesting you.”
That stopped her for a moment. Her chin actually lifted, giving him a slight glance at perfect cheeks, and a flash from those blue eyes. And then she tipped her head fully back and laughed. Sweetly. Unashamedly. Perfectly. Dragging his mouth into an answering grin. Damn! There wasn’t anything about her that didn’t pull at him. She was absolute perfection. She brought her head back down and sniffed slightly as if she’d laughed so hard it brought tears.
She must not laugh often, or hadn’t expected it, because her mouth altered. She wasn’t smiling. Her lips were in a thin line as if deep in thought. That sort of look wasn’t remotely in the cards for tonight. And he just had to change it. So he started talking since she just stood there, silently regarding him, as if any levity was his fault.
“Does that mean…it’s not working?” he asked.
“My interest in you is a given, Jacob. I mean…look about. I’m still here, aren’t I?”
She gestured with the umbrella to the room at large before putting the tip into a tile joint for stability. Then she added to that stance by clasping the handle with both lace-covered hands in front of her. At her waist. That pose looked a lot like a poster for a French Revue. It gave him another shot of pure male awareness where the sharkskin briefs were too tight. It also gave him some measure of her height. Or lack of height.
“You can call me Jake,” he offered.
“Maybe later, Jacob. After we’ve discussed our business.”
“We have business? You’re joking. Tell me it’s a sham and this is some sort of set-up the guys arranged. Please?”
“I have business to conduct, Jacob. That’s why I’m here. I’m not so sure about you.”
“Truly? I’ve lost my touch.”
He heard a sigh.
“You’re very entertaining, Jacob. Truly. But I’ve got business to finalize. Before seeking anything like pleasure.”
Holy crap. His spine even felt the fiery sensation from that last word. It made his response tremble before he caught it. “Well…get on with it, then.”
“You enjoy gaming?”
He sucked in his cheeks while he regarded her. “Didn’t we already cover this? My game playing chamber is presently off-limits…unless you mix business and pleasure. And I have to tell you. I’m on if you are.”
He got a slight shadow of a smile for that quip.
“Let’s keep it simple, shall we? Brief. And if we cease the double-entendres, the pleasure portion will come all the sooner.”
“All right. Shoot. What do you want to know?”
“When I spoke earlier of gaming, I meant the video gaming craze, and your immersion in it. Your dossier is full of references I didn’t care enough to read, nor wish to take the time to understand.”
“Sounds like great reading. I have got to see this file. But it’s more than a craze, Sweetheart. It’s the closest thing to adrenalin-kicking reality this side of warfare. You insult with few words. Craze, my ass. Video gaming is the future, and I’m neck deep in it. I create and market video games. It’s a dream job and grants me a dream life. It’s what I do for a living, and as you already noted, I make a great living. The ladies seem to like that part, too.”
“Tell me about it.”
“What the ladies like? Or how much they like it?”
“That is
not what I asked. Nor is it brief, although it is simple.”
“I’m working with you on this, Sweet. Trust me. You’ve got the carrot firmly attached to the stick, and this fellow is totally focused on it. What part of the video gaming industry do you want to know about?”
“The games. I’m especially interested in the one named Bellus. Or, to be more specific, the part of the game that you named Daemon Bellus.”
Act stupid, Jake. He knew her game now. But she was the best damn spy his competitors had ever used. “Bellus, huh? Not sure I recollect that one exactly.”
“Must you lie? Now?”
“I’ve got a lot of projects, Love. My calendar is full of them. A lot of ongoing ones, as well as a few upgrades. Describe it.”
“Bellus is the best-selling game in the country, making you millions by the hour…and you expect me to believe you can’t recollect it?”
“I don’t track money. I have accountants for that. I made my first million while still in high school with my VIDWAR game. Why do you think I left MIT? Couldn’t make the grades?”
“I didn’t ask. I don’t care. And you’re not helping. I need to know about the thing called Daemon Bellus. There’s a character called Dane in it. You recollect it? Dane is a vampire player – who morphs into a Viking – and then becomes a berserker. I’m very interested in that particular aspect.”
“It’s called an avatar, not a character. And Daemon Bellus isn’t a thing, it’s a mode.”
“So…you do recollect it?”
Shit.
“And now you’ll tell me about it, and our business will be conducted, and we can move on to other things. Yes?”
“Look, Cassandra.” He stressed all three syllables on her name. It just felt right. It was impossible to tell a layman about designing a video game. You either spoke the lingo, or you didn’t.
“Yes?”
“I can describe the programming. I can tell you about the scene-setting, mode enhancement, and assigning limits. I can’t tell you about the marketing and packaging and distribution. That’s what I have strategist and marketers and shipping consultants and analysts for. Nor can I describe the actual play. I don’t spend time on them once they’re on the market. If I did that, I wouldn’t be envisioning my next one. I’ve got one hell of an idea right at the moment. Want to hear it?”
She’d moved somehow, bridging the distance between them in a skim of motion, snatching his spa robe with the umbrella tip as she went. And she’d done it without one hint of stride, and little time. Jake blinked against the impossibility of her approach, even as he got a perfect view up her legs. Damn. If he wasn’t mistaken, she wore a pair of old-fashioned bloomers, complete with a little black bow right at her…
“Get dressed. Show me.” She dropped the spa robe into his lap.
Jake sighed heavily and grabbed the garment before springing to a squat, gaining his feet beneath him. From there he slowly rose to his six-foot, three inches. Two hundred two lbs. Perfectly sculpted. Toned. Fit. He didn’t have to flex, but something perverse just made it happen. She was just as dainty and petite as he’d suspected. That little black hat would fit beneath his chin. If she were closer. He watched the cobalt blue of her eyes disappear for a few moments before it was back. As if she’d closed them for a lengthy blink. And then she licked her lips. He didn’t have to guess that. He watched it. He only hoped the slight jerk of his frame wasn’t as visual as it felt.
CHAPTER THREE
Jake led the way. It wasn’t a far walk from the pool room to his private domain. He’d named it Walsh Command Central. And then he’d trademarked the name just for grins. The place was one gigantic space, with differing floor levels accessed on any side, black matte, sound-proof walls, chrome fixtures, and lighting that could be dimmed by voice control. The area was usually jumping with activity since he’d filled the space with a plethora of the largest flat-screen televisions he could order, hanging like wall dividers, all mounted at optimum viewing level; the bottom frames starting just at knee level for a couch potato gaming junkie. He knew. He had configurations of couches and chairs strategically placed on every level for that reason. They were great for making sure he had the right effect for his creations.
The room contained four 1200 watt, 7-speaker sound systems, installed in the walls, every gaming system available - in the latest versions, and…heck, he’d even designed a special room for all of his archaic computers, including the ones from boyhood. That area held every facet of his career – every idea he’d come up with, the story boards, the design efforts that ensued…everything – the successes as well as the failures.
Walsh Command Central also had an alcove on the top level, set up as a mini apartment for the times he lived there, filled with inspiration and adrenaline. The bed wasn’t super king-sized, but he didn’t think they’d need the space. Then again, every single one of his couches could be put to use, if need be.
He jogged up two half-flights of steps, disdaining the polished chrome rails running along the walls. He didn’t need handrails. Yet. And if he got too damn old and decrepit to use the stairs, he had two elevators. Those rails were installed for visual effect since they reflected the tiled floor and elongated the space. They were necessary for home insurance reasons, too, in the event anyone slipped. He got the instantaneous notion that they’d work perfect with handcuffs. He envisioned several bondage scenes he was going to incorporate into his next video game. Featuring her. Or an avatar very like her.
He knew she followed behind him. He didn’t check. He felt her. She didn’t speak. He returned the favor. For the moment. Silence was its own reward. It was also a tad odd now that he thought of it. He couldn’t even hear her steps. His wouldn’t make much noise, he was barefoot…but those little ankle boots of hers had heels. They should be making some sound. Jake cocked his head slightly to listen as they neared the double doors crafted of smoked glass, etched with WALSH COMMAND CENTRAL in huge letters that sparkled in the right lighting. Nope. Couldn’t hear her. Not a whisper of sound betrayed her presence. He sure hoped the cameras were getting this.
He swiveled and she almost ran into him. Almost. He watched her jerk to a stop just before her nose hit him right between his pecs. Her proximity raised goose flesh all along his skin…and something else. Something he’d never felt before. Like an elevation of every cell in his body. As if there was an electric zone between them. It was a weird sensation. Truly weird.
“You’ve some reason for stopping?” she asked his chest.
“Before we enter my domain – my private domain – we need to get some clarification.”
“Why?”
She was still talking to his chest. That was okay with him. He was actually having trouble breathing. Every inhalation contained some aromatic essence that added emphasis to the elevated awareness happening to him. If she actually looked up at him, she’d probably see it, and she had enough put-downs for him already without adding what had to be lust to it. Or, was this lust? He couldn’t remember feeling anything like it. But it had to be lust, or something just as primitive. Feral. Strange. Wholly remarkable.
He cleared his throat. “So I can decide how to proceed.”
“Proceed?”
“Are you looking for something specific…or are you on a fishing expedition?”
“Why?”
She asked it to his chest again. He lifted it with the force of his inhaled breath before letting it out slowly. That was stupid. Every ion seemed filled with her particular fragrance, and he’d just gotten a lungful of it. He could swear bells were ringing in each ear. And that was just more weirdness. He’d come up against female sirens before; partied with women blessed with sensual allure; been matched against women sending sexual stimulus with every breath.
This Cassandra had them all beat.
“Because I can take you directly to what you want…or I can wade through a lot of fishing line while I try to figure it out. And that carrot is powerfully tempting, Cassie
.”
“Cassandra.”
She corrected him, using three, perfectly enunciated syllables. Again. It was sent with just enough emphasis at his chest that his heart stuttered. More weirdness. He should probably have closed the robe before tying the belt, but she’d acted like his physique wasn’t worth a second glance and that had smarted. That just made something perverse in him want to show off a little more skin. And that just got him more of this odd sensation from her proximity to his bareness.
“Don’t you think that’s a tad formal, Love? I mean…let’s recap, shall we? We’ve got a quick stop in here and then we’re heading right to pleasure central. Let me emphasize that: Pleasure central. And really. It’ll be hard to slide my tongue along your skin if I have to do it while saying that mouthful, Cas…san…dra.”
Her chin came up and those cobalt eyes seared right into him through the lace veil. Or felt like they did.
“Who said anything about your pleasure?”
Jake lifted a hand and pulled at his earlobe as nonchalantly as he could while he considered her. And then he puckered his lips with the reply. “Oooh. Ouch. You know, Cassie, you’re not the only female on the planet. I can have any woman I want. Any. All I have to do is call. And not even very loudly.”
“I’m not just any woman, Jacob.”
He snickered. “I’ll bite.”
Her lips curved into the sweetest smile he’d ever seen. Or could remember. He pondered them as he considered going in for a kiss, and then stifled the urge. Not yet, Jake my man. Not yet…
“And you can’t have me. No one can.”
“Whoa. Do I ever love a challenge. How did you know?”
She tipped her head back and trilled the laugh again. A lengthy one, her mouth open and showing off pearly white teeth and what looked like…fangs. Real, honest-to-goodness fangs. They looked rather sharp, too. Jake instantly responded, the reaction moving him back a full step. That was so disconcerting, he almost grabbed for one of the hall rails beside the doors in defense.
Her head came back down, her mouth closed again to any feature he must have imagined, and then she licked her bottom lip. His entire frame pulsed at that one little thing. The slight glimpse of a tongue. Sliding onto those ruby-red lips.