Love, Encoded (Selected Evolution Series Book 1)

by Sandra Harris

  Barclese’s gaze refocused on her. “If your half-brother accepts my proposal we’ll be working together quite closely.”

  I’d rather have hot needles stuck in my eyes.

  “I must admit,” he continued, “the prospect quite excites me.”

  Ice cold slivers knifed along her nerves. Her brother stiffened, then took a step to place himself between her and Theron Barclese.

  “Miss Rasmussen will not be avail—”

  “Is everything okay here?”

  She almost sagged at the sound of Grant’s voice at her back. Paul turned and practically shoved her at Grant.

  “Escort Sarah to her office.”

  Grant’s hands closed around her shoulders and his gaze ran over her face. Protective menace pulsed from him. His eyes hardened then he glanced over her head and nodded once. “Anything else you want me to deal with?”

  “No,” Paul replied, “I’ve got it covered.”

  Conflicting emotions rioted through her. Hell, she was embarrassing herself and her brother with this foolish fear of a possibly important business associate.

  Get a backbone, Sarah, and ditch the vanity, maybe he’s this way with every woman he meets.

  She forced her features into professional calm and faced her nemesis.

  “Good day, Mr Barclese.”

  His warm, sensual smile sent a shiver of dread through her heart. “I look forward to enjoying an intimate relationship with you, Ms Rasmussen.”

  Don’t count on it.

  The pressure of Grant’s fingers urged her to turn and as she retreated towards her office down long, sun-lit corridors, she became aware that her hand gripped his as though it was the last chocolate bar on Earth.

  “How did you know you were needed?”

  He shrugged, a smile of encouragement tilted his lips. “It’s my job.”

  “Thank you,” she breathed and shook her head. “I don’t know what it is, but that man scares my electrons clean out of their orbits.”

  “I could tell. I wouldn’t worry about having to work with him. I’ve seen that look on Paul’s face, he won’t be engaging in business with Theron Barclese.”

  Relief cascaded through her, dragging tension away. She squeezed his hand. “You’re a good brother, Grant.”

  His head cocked to one side. “Brother? I’m your brother now?”

  She speared at grin at him. “For your sins.”

  Theron Barclese turned back to McMasters, his attention only half focused on the other man’s words. His teeth ground together and he subdued the unease inspired by the protective stance of this new man. He recognized a ruthless soldier when he saw one.

  Fuck, another obstacle.

  It seemed drastic measures were called for.

  The lights of Logan city sparkled through the huge glass panels of the penthouse apartment when Paul entered that evening with the last of the boxes filled with Grant’s personal effects. He placed his load on the kitchen island bench and ran a hand across his forehead. The headache he’d had since meeting with Theron Barclese had not receded. And now Grant had expressed his reservation about the man.

  “You think he’s up to something?” Paul asked.

  Grant did him the courtesy of not holding back.

  “He’s a cold blooded predator. I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw a battleship uphill. His interest in Sarah is overt. He scares her.”

  Grim acknowledgment compressed a corner of his mouth. “I know, but neither you nor she need worry, Astra Projections will not be associating with Hunter’s Paradigm.”

  “I disagree, I think there is every need to worry.”

  The controlled, lethal calm in Grant’s tone snapped his head up. “You think she is in danger?”

  Grant stared at him. “If we were on a field of battle, I’d kill him. That sort of man knows no decency. You know he’s going to keep coming at you until he gets what he wants.”

  Cold fear crept through his guts.

  “With that in mind,” Grant continued. “You may rest assured that I will let nothing happen to Sarah.” He smiled. “I’ve been elevated to the position of brother—she’s family.”

  “And you protect family at all costs.”

  “Damn right you do.”

  Paul plucked a small cardboard box from the carton, then dodged Grant’s attempt to swipe it from him. “What’s in here you don’t want me to see? Pictures of old lovers?”

  “No, just my service medals.”

  “Ah, so it is an old lover—or at least the reason you left me.”

  “Might I point out that you also left me—for your empire building.”

  Paul grunted, flipped the lid on a dark velvet box and stared at an orange chevron ribbon holding a round gold medal emblazoned with a Federation star on a bed of flames. A crown connected the medal to a suspender bar threaded through the ribbon.

  He sucked in a quick breath. “This is a Medal for Gallantry!” He looked at the man he loved, horrified at a glimpse of what he’d been through. “What did you do?”

  Grant shrugged. “What I had to.”

  He gazed back at the military decoration. He knew it, had always known it, Grant was a man of courage and honour, his sister could be in no safer hands.

  “I take it then that you won’t mind that I’ve an operative shadowing her,” Grant said.

  He chuckled. “No. That way she’ll get cranky at you, not me.”

  Chapter 4

  Late Tuesday afternoon Adam stalked a line across their lounge room. His short, choppy steps brought him to a wall, he turned, stalked back. He shouldn’t have agreed to this. There would be no coming back from this step. He speared a glance at his watch. Sarah would be here soon. A battle of anticipation and desperation rampaged through him. Was there any way out of this? He opened and closed his fists, closed his eyes and prayed for guidance.

  The simulated battleship siren of the doorbell whooped through the house. He dragged in a long, slow breath, raised his lids and faced the future. Three long steps took him to the front door. He grasped the handle, hectic energy flexed through his fingers and he yanked the door open.

  Sarah’s gasp did little for his self-esteem, nor did the step she took back. He ground his jaw from side to side, feeling like a bastard for the disquiet reflected in her eyes.

  “Nick isn’t here. He’ll be back in a moment. Come in.” Her hesitation knifed him and he summoned a twisted sort of smile from the tumultuous emotions battering him. He stepped back and waved a hand towards the inside. “Please, Sarah, come in. Can I get you anything?”

  Her chest lifted to a breath and his eyes dropped to her breasts. Yearning tingled in his fingers. She walked past him into the house, her tangerine and jasmine scent playing havoc with his ability to string a thought together. He eyed her slim form, the apparent discomfort in her rigid back. Shame smouldered in his chest.

  A tsunami of truth bore down on him and smashed through his misgivings. His world seemed to blur, shift focus then settled into sharp relief. He’d been a fool, tearing himself apart fighting his instincts. Destiny tolerated no dissension. Finally he accepted that this was who he was meant to be. Sarah’s other lover. He took an uncertain step towards her. The only love he’d ever experienced was that he and Nick shared—and that was asexual, brotherly. How was he to connect with her?

  He rested his hands on her hips, pushed past the stiffening of her muscles and turned her within the circle of his arms. He stared into her green eyes, gave up the last twinge of struggle and bathed in the warmth of her nearness. Nick was right. Sarah completed them, her kindness, her body, her self. Whatever new opportunities the future brought, they would be all the sweeter for having her in their lives. Peace settled on his soul.

  “Put
your arms around my neck,” he ordered.

  Adam’s gruff voice pricked Sarah’s skin. His predatory gaze enthralled her, held her captive. One splayed hand roved up her back and he held her secure as he bent her over his arm.

  “Adam?”

  “Sshh, relax.”

  She raised trembling hands to his chest, the sensation of hot steel trapped them there, aborted her attempt to push him away.

  This is wrong—isn’t it?

  Her fingers spread of their own accord, brushed the small, hard nubs of his nipples beneath the soft fabric of his blue shirt. A half groan, half gasp snarled from his throat, his arms tightened, crushed her against his chest. The raw hunger in his gaze triggered a rush of something sweet and molten in her pelvis. His head came down and he claimed her lips as though she were an offering from the gods. Tenderness tempered the volatility of his passionate onslaught. His mouth joined with hers, demanded her pleasure respond.

  This is . . . I shouldn’t . . .

  Sucking pressure on her lower lip tugged at something sweet and exotic low in her abdomen. Sensation showered upward and speared through her breasts. Adam’s biceps bunched, pressed into her trapped arms and sealed her tight against him. Something hot, hard and infinitely beguiling burrowed into the softness of her stomach. Her body moved against him, seeking the pleasure it instinctively knew he could give.

  The compulsion of his lips demanded hers part and his tongue glided into her mouth. Heat and strength stormed her senses, bringing forth a moan of submission. Drowning in seductive splendour, she danced her tongue with his, an intercourse of sensual feasting. Breathing became a thing of the past. His hands grasped the cheeks of her butt and massaged with unrestrained ardour. Her toes curled.

  The sound of a door closing nudged the edge of her mind. Slow, sure footsteps approached across the wooden floor. Awareness raised a bright flare.

  What the hell am I doing? I’m doing this all out of order.

  She wrenched her mouth from Adam’s. “Stop. No, Nick—”

  “Is right here.”

  She jerked from Adam’s arms. Embarrassment and guilt burned her pleasure to ashes. She turned to Nick, an apology on her lips. Extreme passion blazed in his eyes.

  “Kiss him, Sarah,” he demanded. “I want to see you come alive in his arms. I want to smell your arousal as he kisses you, touches you.”

  A shiver slashed through her.

  What? She darted her gaze from Nick to Adam. Confusion slammed into her. She frowned. “This is a setup? You wanted this to happen?” She glared at Nick and just stopped herself from backing up as both men stalked towards her, their eyes intense, burning with some fierce emotion. “You like to watch?”

  “We want you, Sarah.”

  They wanted her.

  Understanding dawned and indignation and hurt lit her temper. She’d come here in good faith in response to an invitation from Nick and, naïve little fool that she was, she’d walked right into an ambush. Self-aimed anger scorched her veins and mocked her confidence.

  She’d been so anxious to talk to them, sound them out to the possibility of a relationship between the three of them that she’d fallen hook, line and sinker for their ruse. Was this just for their amusement? Did they think her an easy mark? No! Surely they were better than that. Tears of frustration pricked her eyes and she stiffened her spine.

  “Did one of you stop to consider how it might affect me, or discover what I want?”

  They pulled to an abrupt halt, surprise reflecting in their eyes.

  The damn thought hadn’t even occurred to them. Her anger notched up another level. “You’re obviously more concerned with your interests than mine.”

  You’re overreacting—

  —Tough. I won’t be treated like a piece of meat.

  She clamped her lips together and marched towards the front door.

  “Sarah.”

  She ignored the plea in Nick’s voice. And one more thing. She halted, her fingers strangling the door handle, and glared back over her shoulder. “Whom do you work for?”

  A guarded look shaded the guilt and, God help her, imploration in their eyes. “The Draken Foundation.”

  Her dreams took another blow. Peachy. Juuust peachy. “Good day, gentlemen.”

  She flung the door open, satisfied with the loud bang it made when it connected with the wall, and stamped out.

  “I will see you home, Sarah.” Nick’s voice followed her down the path.

  The hell you will.

  She flagged down Grant’s operative. Disbelief creased the man’s rugged features. Yeah, I know you’ve been shadowing me since I left work, sunshine.

  He pulled his vehicle to a halt next to where she stood on the sidewalk and she wrenched opened the passenger door. A big hand wrapped firmly around her upper arm.

  “Who is this man, Sarah?” Nick growled.

  She stared at his hand then glared at him. “Remove it.”

  His domineering gaze softened a touch. “Sarah, do you know this man?”

  Irritation at his affront to her intelligence spiked her anger. “You think I’m that dumb? Maybe I am. I thought you had feelings for me, Nick. I thought you cared for me. That I was something other than a body.”

  A seat belt released. From inside the car a soft, threatening voice issued. “Release Miss Rasmussen immediately.”

  Nick’s grip firmed on her arm.

  “Do it, Nick. I am so angry with you right now. That you could think so little of me.” Tears of frustration and disappointment pricked her eyes. “Let me go, Nick. I’m leaving.”

  He leaned close, his jade gaze boring into her. “Know this. I will never let you go.”

  His grip abruptly released her and he turned and strode back into the house.

  Typical, she fumed, just typical.

  She finally, finally, finds not one, but two guys who can flip her sexual switch, but do they offer her the common courtesy of presuming she has a mind of her own? Noooo. They try to ambush her. Use their overwhelming masculinity and sexual talents in an attempt to undermine her reasoning.

  What did they think she would do? Fall in a puddle at their feet?

  Not this little black duck—

  —Even if it was close.

  And of course they worked for the opposition. A stab of pain pierced her heart. Did they really think so little of her? Had any of it been real or simply seduction, a means to gain an end? Dammit, she could have sworn Nick at least, had genuine feelings for her.

  Nick stormed back into the house, fury at his own foolish actions and their poor result ate through his veins.

  He stalked passed Adam into their rec room and slammed a fist into the reinforced punching bag. It swung away from him. He followed with a left hook, threw all his rage and frustration into the blow. The chain that held the bag to the ceiling creaked.

  “That did not go well.”

  Adam’s temperate words throbbed with the same hurt, exasperation and fear that churned through his gut.

  “What we did was royally screw up. Fuck, Adam! I practically threatened her.”

  “You? I find that difficult to believe. What did you say?”

  He shook his head. “I couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t think past the anger on her face and the pain of her walking away. My emotions got the better of me. The need to claim her, mark her to the world as ours burned in me.” A defeated sigh rattled his chest. “There was a man in the car. Jealousy bit me hard. I growled at her that I’d never let her go.”

  Adam’s long, deep breath hissed in the quiet of the room. “I doubt she found that any more offensive than the way we treated her.”

  Nick dropped his chin to his chest, agitation fisting his hands. “She was right. I just assumed . . .”


  Adam’s strong hand clasped his shoulder. He lifted his head and looked into his soul-sibling’s eyes.

  “I failed to consider her thoughts as well. I was sunk so deep in my own dilemma I paid no respect to anyone else’s feelings, including yours.”

  “What the fuck are we going to do now?”

  “We, my friend, are about to learn a whole new skill set.”

  “And what would that be?”

  Adam’s lips tilted in a rueful smile. “Apologizing.”

  Wednesday morning Sarah slumped at her desk at work and could not summon the inspiration to initialize the refractive monitor of her computer. Her fight with Nick and Adam upset her more than she cared to admit. Pain, like a red-hot splinter of iron, burned in her chest and she struggled to comprehend the depth of her distress. All night she’d tossed and turned, angry at herself for trying to find reasons behind their actions. Trying to find a reason for her own deep hurt and angry offense. Trying to find a reason to forgive them.

  Have I fallen in love? So quickly? How could I love them? I don’t know them. Except that they’re self-centred, arrogant jerks—

  —who are kind and gallant and protective—

  —and possibly only care what information they can get out of me—

  —and bring me alive like never before with just a touch.

  “Morning chicky-babe, what’s shakin’?”

  Tammy’s greeting brought a ray of light to her gloomy disposition and she turned a bright smile to her friend and co-worker.

  “Hey! How’d the inspection go?”