by Marie Harte
But that's all she'd be putting out.
The last four months she'd been happily celibate. Tired of attracting Mr. Wrong in search of Mr. Right, she'd decided to shift men into a low priority in her life. And the most important priority at this moment was settling into this new job. God, she'd so needed a change in her life.
Men were predictable; the job was predictable—hell, even her aunt and uncle asked the same questions every time they talked. “How are you, querida? Do you have a boyfriend? When are you coming to visit? When are we going to see some grandbabies?” Like clockwork.
She frowned. Maybe not calling Uncle Jaime and Aunt Belinda would be best.
“Olivia Lynn. Doesn't sound Portuguese,” Jesse said from behind her, his voice smooth.
She started and turned to face him. The others were nowhere in sight. Easy, Olivia.
Remember, you're off men right now. Get your head together. If only she could convince her heart rate to relax. “Is it Jesse or Fallon? I'm not sure what to call you.” He smiled, and her pulse shot into overdrive. “For you, Jesse.” No wonder Ava had called him a player. No man should look this good in clothes. Then she remembered what he looked like with his shirt off, and had to force herself not to check her lips for drool.
He waited, and she realized he'd asked her a question. “Lynn was my father's name, but my mother's was Esteves before she married him.”
“Hmm.”
“What?” He didn't say anything, looking her over from head to toe as if envisioning her naked. The arrogance annoyed her. That's right. He's just like every other gorgeous man you've fallen for: selfish, flawed, and ultimately, boring.
“Just imagining you in Rio wearing one of those string bikinis they're famous for.” She blushed through a scowl. “Does this approach ever work for you?”
“No.” He sighed. “Apparently it's not working now either.” She didn't want to smile but couldn't help herself.
“You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. That blue-green. It's like Key West and the Caribbean all rolled into one tropical paradise.” He looked away, but not before she saw his pupils stretch.
“Jesse?” Olivia stepped closer to him, fascinated. Like before, she could sense nothing of his emotions. But she visibly saw the hunger she'd sensed in the others. What the hell?
He blinked rapidly and drew in a deep breath. “Sweetheart, back up. You take another step closer, and I'm going to—”
Jules entered, frowned at Jesse, and inserted himself between his friend and Olivia. “So, Olivia, what do you think of the place so far?” He took her by the arm and led her into the kitchen.
She glanced over her shoulder with a frown, but Jesse had turned away.
“Don't mind Fallon. He means well. Can't help himself from falling all over a pretty woman.”
That nailed it. As if she needed another reason not to take an interest in Jesse, or Fallon, or whatever the hell they called him. “This is probably the biggest house I've ever been inside, if you don't count the Biltmore Estate in Asheville.”
At his blank look, she added, “You know, the one George Vanderbilt built back in the late 1800s? His 'house' has over two hundred and fifty rooms.” Jules smiled, and the expression warmed her. She felt soothing waves of energy, a calm that contradicted the worry she'd felt when she glanced over her shoulder at Jesse. “It still feels huge to me. I'm used to a stateroom on board ship. At best, a hole-in-the-wall I called my apartment when I lived in Virginia Beach.”
“Where in Virginia Beach?”
They chatted by the expansive kitchen counter while Melissa fussed over dinner. All the while, Jesse kept his eyes on her, as well as his distance across the open, spacious area in the living room. The rest of the team joined him, cleaned and revitalized as they sparred back and forth.
She turned her attention back to Jules. “Do you know what this mission will entail?”
“Yes and no.” He sniffed and sighed. “I could eat a horse. I'm famished.” So much for getting any information out of the friendliest of the bunch. “I guess we'll find out when Mrs. Sharpe is good and ready.”
He grunted, and she felt his flare of irritation. She intuitively knew it wasn't directed at her but at Mrs. Sharpe.
“How well do you know Mrs. Sharpe?” she asked, conscious to keep her voice low.
“Not well enough. She's new to Dawn Endeavor. Hell, we all are,” he murmured.
Aware of Jules's probing gaze, she continued. “Mrs. Sharpe seems familiar to me, but I can't place her. I don't suppose you know where she was before she joined you?”
“No, but it's interesting you say she looks familiar. I'm curious. From what I know, you worked intel systems in Dam Neck. No special-ops experience, no critical analysis in your bio, right?”
“That's right.”
“So why are you here? We normally find ourselves in hot situations. Dangerous situations,” he clarified.
“That's a good question. My supervisor told me about an opportunity for temporary duty away from training. I made no secret I was looking to go somewhere else. Frankly, sitting around computers all day and teaching software to sailors and civilians who would rather be elsewhere isn't my idea of a good time.”
“I get that.”
“I'm not sure why he even allowed me time off, since we have an inspection coming up, but I jumped at it. The only prerequisites were for a native speaker able to deploy at a moment's notice. And I held the clearance needed already.”
“Right.” Jules paused, then leaned closer, staring directly into her eyes. She didn't flinch, used to dealing with men trying to throw their weight around. He overwhelmed her, as he surely knew. What she found curious was her muted attraction. Though he clearly had looks, brawn, and intelligence, she wasn't drawn to him. Nor was she overly attracted to any of the others.
Except for Jesse.
This close to him, she'd nearly plastered him with a kiss.
“Mine,” she heard echo in her mind.
He leaned back, bemused, and she had the odd sense he'd heard that same voice. “Sorry, thought I saw something in your eye.”
“My eye. Yeah, sure.” She huffed and deliberately turned her back on him to grab a cup off the counter. Shaken, she didn't know what to think. Sharing feelings had always come naturally to her. But thoughts?
“Can't blame a guy for trying.” Jules shrugged, feeling not at all sorry for acting like a jerk.
Actually his arrogance put her at ease. She was used to dealing with the macho type. “Sure you can. Hey, Melissa, what's for dinner?”
“Breathe deep and focus,” Hayashi muttered, gripping Fallon's arm. “Damn. What the hell got into you?”
Fallon wished he knew. Hell, after the rough sex he and the team had just indulged in, he should have been too tired to be turned on again. But something about Olivia drew him. His inner beast purred around her, wanting to touch. He'd been a hairbreadth from grabbing her and taking her up to his room for some fun, when Jules had arrived.
Though he hadn't liked Jules's intervention, he'd needed it. But seeing his friend close in on his female bugged the shit out of him. Time to prove his worth, to flaunt his strength and superiority.
“Mine,” he growled in a low voice and clenched his fists.
Tersch grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around. “What's that? You want to see some television? Great idea.” He forcibly sat Fallon down on the couch and sat beside him.
Hayashi caged him in on the other side. In a low voice, he rumbled, “What the fuck? You're broadcasting now? I heard you.”
“So did I,” Hayashi added.
“And why are you sniffing around the female? Dude, you just came like three times.”
“Four,” Hayashi murmured.
Fallon flushed. “Shut up.”
“It's true. I'm sensing a lot of frustration, Fallon.” Hayashi's calm voice began to soothe his need for violence and sex. “And this telepathic loudspeaker is something new, isn't it?
I know you've been working with Mrs. Sharpe on it, but I have to say, I'm impressed. I didn't know you'd progressed so far.”
He hadn't, not until tonight. “It's no big deal.”
“Sure it is,” Tersch added, smiling. “Just think how that can come in handy the next time we're under fire. You can share info a lot easier with the team.”
He had a point, but Fallon couldn't think past Olivia just now. To his relief, she moved away from Jules and engaged Melissa in conversation.
Jules joined them, casually bent forward, and shoved a heavy fist in Fallon's gut that took his breath away. In a low voice, he said, “What the hell were you going to do? Change in front of Olivia?”
“Not…exactly.” Fallon tried to catch his breath.
“Well, keep your dick under control. The female isn't just a pretty face. There's a helluva lot of energy packed inside her.”
“I wouldn't mind being packed inside her,” Tersch murmured.
Fallon's beast didn't find him amusing. Claws began to replace his fingernails.
Jules snarled in a low voice, “Put a lid on it, Fallon. Tersch, shut up. In fact, you steer clear of the female too. Hayashi, you take her.” He exhaled loudly when Fallon turned on Hayashi, his pupils mere slits. “To occupy her while we get you under control,” he directed back to Fallon.
“Come on.”
Tersch stood and called out to Melissa, “We'll be right back. Forgot something.” He dragged Fallon away behind Jules, but Fallon felt Olivia's eyes on him all the same. He didn't understand this need to be near her. And he didn't like it. He had enough problems controlling his abilities lately.
His senses had been spiraling out of control. His mental abilities had grown under Mrs.
Sharpe's tutelage. She'd taught him to increase his hold on the others, to enlarge his capacity to encompass not only thoughts but images as well.
Except her instruction physically hurt. Headaches, nosebleeds, and an unhappy beast wanting to play instead of train. Then the woman took them all off the shots needed to subdue their mating heats, stating the medication prevented them from fully developing themselves into the Circs they were meant to be.
And now look at him.
“Shit.”
“You said it.” Jules didn't look happy. He stopped them farther down the hallway, away from prying eyes and ears. “What the hell was that 'mine' crap?”
“I don't know. I just didn't like you so close to Olivia.” Instead of chastising him, as Fallon expected, Jules rubbed his chin, his gaze thoughtful.
“Really?”
“Hell, Jules. Lately I find it hard to think. Sharpe has us off the shots. She's playing with our minds. And then we have the heat right as our new guest arrives. Sue me if I'm a little off-kilter.” He tried to play it off, but the truth was Olivia shook him. The minute they'd made eye contact, something inside him shifted. But God forbid he told Jules any more. He had no intention of being put under a magnifying glass. This next mission sounded important. The team needed him, whether they knew it or not.
“Off-kilter, hmm? Okay, Fallon. Get yourself together and join us for dinner. Five minutes.”
“Five minutes. Got it.”
Five minutes later, he still didn't have it. Eschewing dinner for a much needed getaway, he left the mansion and gave his beast free rein. Time enough for an ass chewing when he returned.
And maybe in his absence, he'd figure out why Olivia Lynn bothered him so damned much.
“What's up?” Tersch asked, stopping Jules before they rejoined the others. “I know that calculating gleam.”
“Wow. I didn't think you knew any words more than two syllables long.”
“Ass. Come on, Jules. Is Fallon okay?”
Jules wondered. “We all know the shots weren't working like they used to, even before Sharpe took us off them. But I have to admit, I'm satisfied from our workout earlier.”
“Yeah. Didn't realize Fallon was such a stud.”
“Me either.” It didn't make sense. Fallon was dependable. Always ready with a smile or joke, the easygoing male was a cohesive member of the team. Hayashi had a tendency to drift into his own little world. Tersch could get lost in bouts of anger or depression. And Jules knew he sometimes overlooked the immediate needs of the team in favor of the bigger picture. But Fallon could be counted on to hold everyone together. The communicator effectively spoke without speaking.
His possessive attitude toward Olivia reminded Jules of another group of Circs and the way they'd acted around their females. Yet hadn't the admiral and Doc exhausted the search for more female Circs? Nothing about Olivia smelled Circ. Beautiful, sexy, and psychically gifted, yes, but other than that, she wasn't so much different from Ava.
“Jules?” Tersch asked again.
“Fallon's fine. Don't worry. I'll talk with Sharpe and iron things out.”
“Better you than me. I still don't like that woman.”
Jules smiled. “That's because she won't take any of your shit. Just like Ava.”
“You'd think a woman that fine would have the sense to appreciate a Norse god like myself.”
Jules laughed, his mood lightened by Tersch's familiar arrogance. “Well said. Any woman who can resist you must have something wrong with her.”
“Yeah,” he grumbled. “Must be something in the water around here.”
“Must be.”
Olivia didn't react to Tersch or him the way she'd reacted to Fallon. He'd watch her with Hayashi tonight to see how she acted around him. As team leader, he couldn't afford to let her affect his team in a negative way. But if what he suspected might be true… The possibility would mean a brighter future for them all.
Chapter Four
“So, Olivia, do you come from a large family?” Kisho asked as they sat around the table.
Kisho, Gunnar, and Jules sat across the table from her, while Ava and Mrs. Sharpe sat on either side of her. Melissa and Jack had retired to their cottage for the night. Jesse remained conspicuously absent, much to Mrs. Sharpe's voiced irritation.
“My parents died when I was young. I grew up with my aunt and uncle and a bevy of cousins. All boys, so I know how to deal with you people,” she warned, pointing her fork in Gunnar's direction.
He grinned and continued to eat the mountain of food on his plate. Pot roast, roasted potatoes, cooked beets, and green beans filled her belly, but she hadn't made close to a dent in her plate as compared to the men around her. Ava also consumed a vast amount of food for such a small woman.
“Yeah, well, we all know women are nothing but trouble. Sad but true,” he said before Ava could contradict him.
Mrs. Sharpe favored him with a patronizing grin. “Ah, the innocence of youth.” Jules snorted. “True. Tersch has the mentality of a four-year-old, but you can't be that old, Mrs. Sharpe.”
She shrugged prettily, maintaining that air of mystery Olivia was coming to associate with the woman. “We do what we can, Jules. A woman's secrets should never be revealed.” The way she tilted her head tugged again at Olivia's memory. “Have we met before, Mrs.
Sharpe?”
The table quieted.
“No, I don't believe we have,” the older woman said softly, her gaze intent. “Why do you ask?”
Olivia wished she could remember. “No reason. Déjà vu, I guess.”
“No such thing,” Ava cut in. “Just repressed memory is all. Ask Kisho about it.” She turned to Kisho, who regarded her with a soberness in keeping with his quiet at the table.
“One thing you'll find the longer you're here is that there are forces at work in the world we cannot begin to understand.”
“Here we go. I hate when he goes all Zen on us,” Gunnar muttered.
Kisho ignored him. “Many of us here have a special ability. I can see glimpses of potential tomorrows.”
Olivia stared at him, wide-eyed, but didn't discount him. Truth felt like a warm blanket, much like what she felt from him now. “Isn't that dangerous? If you kno
w too much, you could directly influence something you weren't meant to.”
Mrs. Sharpe beamed. “I told you she'd understand.”
“You don't discount the possibility of prognostication?” Kisho asked.
“No. I spent a lot of time in the jungles of Brazil in my youth. My family is dedicated to preserving the rain forest, and you wouldn't believe half the stuff that lives in there—things regular people would call impossible.”
“Like what?” Jules interrupted.
“Like plants that heal. Like animals that shouldn't exist but do. There are rumors of mystics living deep in the heart of the Amazon. It sounds like a fantasy, but when I was little, my aunt filled my head with stories.” She smiled. “I can't convince myself it was all fiction.”
“Sometimes the unexplained is more fun,” Ava agreed. “And sometimes it's a pain in the ass. Like the mystery of why men can't quite find the hamper two feet from their dirty clothes.
Or why there are always five million soda cans littering the counters, when the recycle bin is just under the sink. Or why—”
“Ava helps around the house,” Mrs. Sharpe explained with a hint of a smile. “Not that I can fault her. Those are mysteries that used to keep me up late at night.” Hinting that the woman used to be married, maybe? Or that now that she had Ava to help, she didn't need to worry about such matters anymore?
“But that aside, I had hoped we could talk tonight about your upcoming trip to Brazil.” She glared at the seat next to her, the one Fallon should have filled. “Jules, you can catch him up, after I talk to him.”