Terms of Attraction

by Kylie Brant

  Turning her back on him, she fought to keep her voice steady. “You need to go.”

  “Ava—”

  “Now.” She could feel the temper heating her from the inside out. The tightness in her chest heralded an impending explosion. Alex didn’t need to hear his parents arguing. He’d heard plenty of that before they’d split.

  There was nothing to argue about at any rate. The bonds were gone. And nothing she could say would convince Danny he’d violated a trust by using them.

  A thought struck her there, comprehension piercing anger. She whirled to see Danny halfway through the door. “Wait.” He halted. “That’s not what had Alex so excited. What’d you tell him?”

  His sheepish look was its own answer. “I meant to run it by you first. Really. But we got to talking, and seeing how interested he was, it just came out. But I warned him that you were going to have the final say, Ava. I swear I did.”

  “No.”

  “It would be a wonderful experience for him.” Her ex let go of the doorknob and moved closer to her. “He’ll learn compassion for others….”

  “My son doesn’t need to travel ten thousand miles to learn compassion.” Her voice shook with the effort it took to keep it steady. Odd how she could face down an armed robber. Take out a target at a thousand yards. But this…this had panic sprinting down her spine. Ice bumping through her veins. “And if you think I’m sending a fifteen-year-old boy halfway around the world with you this summer, you are seriously deranged.”

  * * *

  “Pizza delivery.”

  Ava stood in her son’s open doorway and waved the pizza box in front of her. Alex turned around in his desk chair and grinned in delight. “Meat lover’s with mushrooms and green olives?”

  “Yes, O Gluttonous One.” When she entered his room, her son’s eyes widened. “I get to eat in my room?” The practice had been banned after Ava had discovered why the house had such an ant infestation. Alex tended to forget the leftovers he shoved under his bed, but the ants never did.

  “It’s a onetime offer, and mealtime rules apply. Put a shirt on.” He must have showered, because his hair was damp and he was clad only in baggy basketball shorts. He got up and pulled a T-shirt over his head, and she was struck anew by the definition in his back and shoulders. He already stood eye-to-eye with her at five nine. He’d surpass her by his next birthday. Girls had been calling the house for three years, but in the last twelve months or so Alex had been doing some calling of his own. Sometimes the years seemed to meld into nanoseconds. Another few blinks and he’d be off to college and she’d be alone for the first time in her life.

  Shrugging off the bolt of emotion that twisted at the thought, she sat on his bed, cross-legged, with the box on her lap. She handed him a plate as he reached for the first slice of pizza, knowing he wasn’t one to bother with such niceties on his own.

  “This looks great. What are you going to eat?”

  “Funny.” But Ava withdrew two pieces just in case. Alex could work his way through the rest without a pause. His metabolism should rank as one of the Seven Wonders of the World.

  They ate for a few minutes in companionable silence. After breaking all speed limits to wolf down three slices, he finally slowed enough to say, “Guess you’re pretty pissed that Dad talked to me about going to Africa, huh?”

  At her sharp glance he rolled his eyes and amended, “I mean ‘mad.’”

  She put her half-eaten slice down and reached for a napkin. “It’s a big decision, Alex. And it’s one we should have talked over before he mentioned it to you. So yeah, I’m not crazy about the idea.”

  “But you’ll think about it, right? I mean, how cool would that be? I’ve never even been out of the country before.”

  “You’ve been to Mexico.”

  He waved off her correction. “Okay, I haven’t been off the continent. When would I ever get a chance like this again?”

  She wiped her fingers carefully, trying to hide her dismay. “It wouldn’t be a pleasure trip. You’d be working. Living without indoor plumbing and electricity. No TV. No video games.”

  “I know that.” He took another slice out of the box. “But I’d be doing some good, right? And think how that would look on my college application. You’re always saying I need to list community service.”

  “I was thinking more like mentoring middle schoolers. Teaching Sunday school. And what about baseball?”

  “Dad said I could fly out after the regular season is done. It’s not like we’re going to State this year. Not with Severin as the pitcher. Did you know his fastball is only clocked at sixty miles an hour?”

  She had to smile at the disgusted expression on his face.

  “So that would give me a good month there before I have to come back and get ready for school.”

  The bite Ava had just taken turned to ash in her mouth. She swallowed with effort. “What about our camping trip?” Each year she saved the majority of her vacation and they went to the mountains. Or the desert. Or the Southwest. They spent weeks poring over maps, planning their route and which campsites to stop at. Where to hike or kayak. They’d been talking about white-water rafting on the Snake River on their travels this summer.

  Alex shrugged. “We camp every year. It’s no big deal.” Then he looked up, his face stricken. “I mean, we can go again next summer, right?”

  He had a heart as soft as Danny’s. Ava knew if she didn’t reassure him, he’d beat himself up for hurting her feelings. “Right. But I still have to think about it.”

  “Okay.” He reached for another slice, satisfied for the time being with her answer. But when he changed the topic to complain about a teacher who just happened to teach his least favorite subject—English—Ava’s attention was only half on the conversation.

  Her mind was reeling. First there’d been the unsettling meeting with DHS, then the double punch of the twin parental concerns she’d been handed tonight.

  Experiencing a sinking certainty, Ava was beginning to believe that the solution to all three situations might be entwined.

  “So, do you?”

  Her attention jerked back to her son, who was regarding her impatiently. “Do I what?”

  “Have some sort of genealogy information for me to use for this lame English paper.”

  Ava searched through the fragments of the last few moments of conversation that had registered, came up empty. “Why do you need that?”

  Alex rolled his eyes. “Mo-om. I just told you about that family tree assignment Fulton gave us in English. I need something to put in the paper I have to write. Five pages. Five. Whole. Pages.”

  Ordinarily she would have commiserated with her son’s dismay. She wasn’t much of a writer herself. But for the second time that day she was reminded of her past, and it wasn’t a recollection she cared for.

  “I’m sorry, my family wasn’t much for writing stuff like that down.” That, at least, was the truth. She knew her grandparents’ names but that was about it.

  “No living relative you can get information from?”

  She thought of her father then, the accompanying twist of pain familiar. “No.” The lie didn’t weigh heavily on her. She’d spent the first two years of Alex’s life desperately trying to get her father to acknowledge her existence, and that of his grandson.

  And then the next dozen years ignoring his.

  “Great.” Alex wadded up his napkin and slouched in his chair. “Now Fulton will make me take the information you do have and do a genealogy search on the Internet. Jonnie Winters had to do that last semester and it took him days. I was hoping just to write the report with what we already had.”

  Tiny shards of ice formed in Ava’s blood. All sorts of information was available on the Internet. But one thing would not be found there: any trace of her father’s death.

  She considered for a moment having to explain to her son why she’d lied to him all these years about their lack of relatives. Thought of how she’d tell him
who and what his grandfather was. Who Ava used to be.

  Her throat suddenly dry, she looked at Alex, who was regarding her expectantly. “How about you use your dad’s genealogy for the paper? Grandpa Carter has notebooks full of their family history.”

  Hope glimmered in her son’s eyes. “You think I could? It’s not exactly my family since dad adopted me.”

  “Well, you share the same last name, so Mr. Fulton won’t know that, will he?”

  “Sweet,” he said with satisfaction. “I thought of that earlier, but I thought…you know…maybe you’d think it was dishonest or something.”

  Ava caught Alex’s eyes on her and it was all she could do not to squirm. Her hypocrisy weighted heavily on her. She’d endlessly preached truthfulness to her son while she’d spent his whole life lying to him about her family.

  She smiled weakly, guilt slashing at her. There was little a parent wouldn’t do to protect her child. But sometimes she wondered whom she was really protecting. Because in that moment she realized exactly how far she’d go to keep her past hidden, for both their sakes.

  * * *

  Cael stepped out of the shower and carelessly swiped a towel down his body as he reached for his ringing cell. It was after eleven, West Coast time. But he had operatives across the nation and in several countries with various time zones. And in accordance with Murphy’s Law, it seemed like at least half of them had called with some sort of problem today.

  He looked at the screen, didn’t recognize the number. “Global Security.” As he answered the call he fastened the towel around his waist, raking his fingers through his hair. Maybe he could manage a haircut before leaving the States again.

  “McCabe.”

  That low smoky tone was immediately recognizable. So was the heat it elicited low in his belly. “Ava Carter.”

  There was a hesitation. Then, “I just noticed the time. I didn’t realize it was so late.”

  “Not a problem. All hell’s been breaking loose this evening and I haven’t even thought about sleep yet.” He headed out to the sitting area of his suite, perched on the arm of the couch, intrigued and wary. When they’d parted this afternoon he’d never expected to see her again. And he still had trouble understanding the source of the regret that thought had elicited.

  But then later, when Benton had reported following Samuelson to police headquarters, where Carter had reappeared, too, his interest in her had taken on a whole different facet.

  She didn’t beat around the bush. “I’ve been thinking of your offer this afternoon. About short-term employment. Were you serious?”

  His stomach twisted, a quick vicious lurch. It took more effort than it should have to respond evenly. “Yeah. How much time do you have available?”

  “I have several weeks’ leave accumulated.”

  “Then you could take some now, right?” With the words he baited the trap, prayed she wouldn’t walk in. Heard it snap closed when she did.

  “I could probably get approval for immediate leave.”

  “If you’re serious about this I’d like to meet with you as soon as possible.” Needed to, to find out what had caused her sudden about-face.

  But he was very much afraid he already knew.

  “All right. My shift tomorrow gets done at—”

  “Tomorrow I’m flying to L.A. It’ll have to be tonight.” He crossed to the desk, found a pad and pen. “Give me directions to your place. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” The reluctance in her voice as she recited the directions did nothing to dispel the determination spiking in his gut. As he disconnected the phone he clenched the instrument tightly in his hand, to avoid hurling it across the room. He didn’t want to believe that DHS had drawn her into this. It would be a stretch, even for Samuelson.

  But the possibility had to be explored. He crossed to his suitcase, pulled out some clothes. Dropping the towel, he began to dress swiftly. The fact that he was reluctant to credit the suspicions forming in his mind meant Ava Carter had already gotten under his skin.

  Which made her dangerous in more ways than one.

  * * *

  The expression on Ava’s face was wary as she pulled open the door before Cael had a chance to knock. Stepping aside to let him in, she said, “You move fast.”

  “I have to.” Stepping inside, he shot a quick look around the place as she closed the door behind him. “I’ve got a killer schedule and we’re spread a little thinner than I’d like.”

  He followed her to the leather couch and sat down, while she seated herself in the recliner facing him. On the way over he’d convinced himself that his earlier reaction to her was a combination of adrenaline and respect. That shot of hers today had been an impressive depiction of her talent.

  But looking at her now, he realized he’d been kidding himself. Adrenaline had long faded, and it wasn’t exactly respect that had him noticing her long, slim legs. Or the very female curves beneath the T-shirt she wore.

  “So being shorthanded is the reason you wanted me to take vacation immediately?”

  Her question yanked his attention back to business, where it would need to stay. If she was linked to Samuelson he’d have to tread carefully.

  “Partially. But I’ve accepted an extension to my contract with de la Reyes. And your skills would come in useful during the course of that case.”

  Cael leaned back and propped one foot over the opposite knee, settling deeper into the couch. “De la Reyes needs personal protection more than ever. There’s a rebel faction in his country working for a man who wants him out of power. With Cabrerra’s betrayal, he can’t afford to trust anyone. If his security detail has been infiltrated, why not his government? His household help? He needs outsiders to spearhead a safety regimen for him, until he can weed out those whose loyalty can be bought.”

  “And what happens to those people?”

  He recognized the concern in her question. “Don’t worry. Whatever you think of de la Reyes’s politics, he came to power through a democratic election. He’s lobbying our government for increased aid. He’s hardly going to jeopardize that with civil rights violations. Those disloyal to him would be expelled from the country or jailed, but he wouldn’t order them killed. He says he’s committed to having his country recognized by the U.N. after decades of dictator rule. I believe him.”

  Ava looked less certain. “And the immediacy you spoke of earlier?”

  “I need to accompany de la Reyes to L.A., which will be his last stop in the States. In two days we fly back to San Baltes. It’ll take ten operatives to provide full security for him there once he resumes his full schedule. I can’t have them all in place for at least a week.”

  “So I’d be providing protection until you can put a team together.”

  “We’d be providing protection,” Cael corrected. “At least until the full detail is positioned. Are you as skilled with a handgun as you are with a rifle?”

  She regarded him coolly. “Yes.”

  “Good. You’ll be provided with both. I can expedite a passport if you don’t have one.”

  “I do.”

  Giving a satisfied nod, he said, “So it’s just a matter of getting the time off on short notice.”

  She raised her brows. “There’s a matter of me agreeing first.”

  He didn’t smile but something inside him lightened. Dead tired, he shouldn’t find it so damn stimulating to spar with her. Especially given what she might be hiding from him. “Ava, if you weren’t interested you wouldn’t have contacted me. Something changed between the time I spoke to you this afternoon and when you called earlier. Something that made you overlook your earlier objections.”

  She’d gone still, but not a flicker of expression crossed her face. “I’m not a cop, but I do have some deductive powers. That’s how I keep my clients alive.” He sat, barely breathing, waiting for her reply. Wanting desperately for her to prove those persistent little doubts swirling inside him wrong.

  For a moment he thought she
wouldn’t answer. Was prepared to probe further. But then she said, her gaze skirting his, “After a visit from my ex-husband this afternoon I find myself in need of money.” Her eyes came back to fix on his then, held steady. “If I decide to do this, regardless of my reasons, I’ll put everything I’ve got into the assignment. I won’t take it if I don’t believe I can be of help to you.”

  He almost lost his train of thought for a moment, under her liquid chocolate gaze, before his resolve hardened. Nodding, he got to his feet, headed toward the door. “You check on that vacation time in the morning. I’ll need your answer in twenty-four hours.”

  Closing the door behind him, he jogged down the steps toward his car. He could ill-afford to turn down her help if she did sign on. He hadn’t been lying about needing her on de la Reyes’s protection team.

  But had she been lying to him?

  He opened the door of the dark rental sedan, slid inside. Her story about a sudden need for money was plausible. It was also completely impossible to check out. Starting the ignition, he pulled away from the curb. Useless to wonder if it was a story cooked up between her and Samuelson. Or to speculate what her motivation would be for agreeing to join forces with the man.

  He wanted—needed—to take her word at face value. But Cael McCabe believed in being prepared. As much as he believed in revenge.

  He glanced in his rearview mirror before switching lanes. If Ava Carter turned out to be working with Samuelson, he’d have no compunction about using her to destroy the man. And if that destroyed her in the process, well…

  She would have gotten exactly what she deserved.

  CHAPTER 3

  Two days later Ava was jogging across the tarmac at LAX to the private jet waiting for her. A man she remembered from Cael’s security detail at the civic center stood at the base of the steps leading into the plane. She flipped through her mental Rolodex. Bailey. Balsem. Benton. That was it. He’d been flanking de la Reyes’s other side when Cabrerra fired at the man, hitting the officer instead. He was around her age, with wavy brown hair and a friendly puppy dog face that belied the seriousness of his occupation.