I bit my lip. How much did she already know? Did she know about the FBI questioning me?
“And you know Antonio, right?” Carmela continued.
“We’re familiar. You have a lovely family, Carmela.”
“You say that because you know me,” Ari said, coming in from the side room with two additional chairs. “Be warned: I’m the nicest and the smartest.”
Michelangelo beaned her with a roll.
I sat. I ate. I chatted. Normalcy settled around me like a blanket, soothing frazzled nerves and washing away the stress of the last four days. I was home, with family. I was safe and loved. Sofie was safe. For a suspended moment in time, everything in the world was righted and everything was going to be okay. We’d find Jenny, rescue Kyoko, and save the world from Jenny’s stupid life-lengthening, doomsday formula. I found my sense of humor again and teased and verbally sparred with the da Vias. I laughed for what felt like the first time in years.
When Gianna and Georgino rose to clear the table, and Dempsey was locked in a discussion with Carmela, Miriam motioned to the door and I followed her from the bright dining room to the dim family room down the hall, grabbing my bag from a hook near the door on the way. When I slung it over my shoulder, the weight of the world settled with it, and my good mood floated away.
Miriam halted near the window farthest from the doorway, looking out over the moonlit pool and patio. A steel infinity symbol twisted above her heart.
“Do you want to explain to me why there’s a detail assigned to you?” Miriam asked quietly.
“You mean Coutu and Sevallo?”
Miriam cocked her head and waited.
“What do you know?” I asked.
“Why don’t you tell me what you know and we’ll go from there.”
I licked my lips nervously. “It’s about Jenny. Jennifer Winters. She dumped her crazy into my world four days ago, and everything’s been shitty since.” I told Miriam a heavily edited version of the last four days, never mentioning Kyoko by name or explaining what she was, just that Jenny had left me a “package.” Everything else I told her was the truth: about meeting Hudson and him pretending to be my boyfriend, about delivering the “package” to Sofie and then later moving it to Annabella’s. I told her about Atlas and Edmond, about the ninjas’ botched kidnapping of Hudson and me, about my ransacked home. I poured out the tale of Sofie’s kidnapping and the exchange gone horribly wrong. I didn’t figure it was necessary to mention all the broken-down cars.
“And now what?” Miriam asked when I wound down.
“I don’t know. I have sketches of the women who took her. And I found the original ransom note, not that it’ll help you. It’s in kanji, and a bit worse for the wear. Any DNA is gone from it.” I pulled the notebook with Sofie’s drawings out of my bag and handed it to Miriam. The ransom note was tucked inside the notebook. Miriam took it without looking at it.
“You’ve had a rough few days, haven’t you?” she said.
“It’s been surreal.”
“Mmm.” She shifted so that my face was in the light, hers in the shadows. “So your life and Hudson’s were threatened, your aunt was kidnapped, and you still don’t want to tell me what is in this mysterious package Jenny gave you? What are you asking for here, Eva? What do you want me to do?”
“I need your help. I need to know who these people are that took Jenny.”
“And then what?”
“I’ll . . . I don’t know. Maybe then it’ll be time to involve the FBI. Officially.”
“Maybe?” Miriam shoved a clump of ebony hair behind her ear and leaned in closer to me. “I don’t work in the same division as Coutu and Sevallo, and even I’ve heard all the speculation about Jennifer Winters. She was turned in by her own company, some scientific research lab funded by the government. Did you know that? They suspect her of treason—treason—and Coutu has been building the case. You don’t want to get in the middle of that.”
“I’m not here by choice.”
Miriam’s infinity symbol disappeared. A squirming malamute puppy in a rumpled suit and tie sat at her feet. I’d seen that puppy before, though usually when Isra was trying to pull one over on her mothers.
“Why didn’t you tell Sevallo and Coutu about Sofie being kidnapped? Why are you not in their office right now with these sketches?” She waved the notebook at me.
“Because those women took the package, too,” I said. I trusted Miriam to help with finding Jenny, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell her about the life-lengthening formula. Not yet. Not unless I had to. I suspected Miriam would feel it necessary to tell her superiors. Once they knew, there’d be no stopping the secret from spreading, and all the cover-up Jenny had done and I had assisted in would be for nothing. Plus, I was pretty sure those treason charges would sweep me along with Jenny, straight to prison.
“Is it drugs?”
“No! Something— Oh, it’s impossible to explain, but it’s something we don’t want falling into the wrong hands, and that includes the government’s hands.”
“You do realize who I work for, right?”
“Of course.”
“You want me, a government employee, to help you find something you don’t want the government to find.”
“No, I want your help.”
“My help. So long as it includes using the FBI’s resources?”
“I wouldn’t be asking you if I had another option. It’s imperative that we find Jenny and the package.”
Miriam stared at me, waiting. I listened to the grandfather clock in the hallway tick away the seconds and did my best not to squirm.
“The FBI is already looking for Jenny—”
“But they don’t know she’s been kidnapped by—”
“Eva.” I shut my mouth. “I will help you, but”—Miriam paused—“but if this backfires on me, on Arianna, or even on you, I will make sure you suffer the full penalty.”
“I understand,” I said. “You can’t break the law.”
“I’m not talking about the law. If this goes sideways, I’ll tell Carmela.”
Carmela’s wrath would shred my flesh from my bones if she discovered I’d aided a traitor to the United States. She wouldn’t care about extenuating circumstances or listen to reason. After she was done picking over my carcass, she’d tell her friends what I’d done, and in days, all of LA would know. Not that it would matter. Because I’d be in jail if this backfired.
The risotto churned in my stomach, and I took my time following Miriam back to the table for dessert.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Dempsey took a taxi home after I crossed my heart and pinky-swore we would contact her if we learned anything. Then Hudson drove the two of us to his house. His car survived all but the last six blocks. He took it well, just gathered his keys, locked everything, took my hand, and with an enormous cherub flapping ahead of us and a red wagon bringing up the rear, began walking.
The two bars we passed spilled drunken people onto the sidewalk in clouds of alcohol fumes and smoke, and jazz music drifted from a coffee shop. I peered into the darkened store fronts of the strip malls and up at the bright LA night sky, content to allow the sounds of the city to fill the space between us. Hudson and I hadn’t had many quiet, normal moments, and it was nice to pretend that we were walking home after a long date, not after an insane day of desperation.
Sofie had called Ari after dinner to let me know that she and Bernie were at his house with Dali, where she’d be staying until she heard from me. I breathed lighter knowing she was tucked away where all the people tracking Jenny didn’t know to look.
Hudson had held his own at the da Via table. He was the first date I’d ever brought to dinner, and the da Vias had grilled him like any family members’ dates. I had no idea where my relationship with Hudson was headed, or even if we had a relationship that could survive outside this high-stress whirlwind Jenny had dumped on us, but at least I knew my family approved of him.
My footst
eps were dragging by the time we reached Hudson’s door. The strain of the day combined with little sleep the night before had caught up with me. While I flopped on the couch, Hudson called Matvei to watch the house. It didn’t seem necessary since the ninjas had Jenny and Kyoko, but I was too tired to argue. After his brief conversation, he hit the play button on his answering machine. A woman’s soft, Southern voice filled the house’s silence.
“Hudson, it’s me. Do you remember that buckle you won in your first 4-H show? Your dad just found it in the attic.” She paused, then said, “Why don’t you give us a call? It’s been months since we’ve talked. I’ve been missing you.”
I twisted in my seat to look at Hudson.
“That was my mom,” he said. He was staring at the answering machine. “I can’t remember the last time she said she missed me.”
I don’t think he realized how vulnerable he sounded. I walked to him and hugged him from behind.
“Sounds like you miss her, too.”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I haven’t been back that much since college. Mom always thought I’d stay in the family business, but it wasn’t me. Now I feel guilty when I go back and guilty when I stay away.”
“There’s not a lot of electrical engineering involved in racing horses, I take it.”
Hudson twisted in my arms to face me, his eyes dark and unreadable. “No. Not much.”
“This is where I tell you I told you so.”
“What?” Hudson’s expression turned guarded. “What are you talking about?”
“You think it’s coincidence that I straightened up your family bagua and you get a call from your mom out of the blue?”
“Well . . .”
I arched a brow at him. He relaxed in my arms, a smile tugging at his lips.
“It could be a coincidence.”
“Good thing I know that stubborn men make great lovers.”
“We do, huh?”
“Well, the scientific experiments are ongoing. If you know of any other stubborn men I can test my theory on—”
Hudson backed me up against the wall, pinning me with his body. “You won’t find anyone more stubborn than me.”
“Oh? I don’t know. I—”
He cut off my words with a kiss. Languid energy infused my tired limbs, and I melted against him.
“No one else,” he growled.
“Mmm, are you sure?”
“Positive.”
I pulled back to examine his dilated eyes, thrilled to see he was serious. Whatever this was between us, he felt its intensity, too, and was just as addicted.
“Good. The same goes for you,” I said.
The next kiss left us both panting, and Hudson looked smug when he lifted his head. “Glad we got that settled.”
Going on my tiptoes, I kissed along Hudson’s jaw to his ear and nibbled his earlobe. He groaned and slid his hands behind my back, pulling me from the wall enough to cup my butt. I ground against him. His shoulder muscles flexed beneath my hands; then he lifted me, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, shifting for another hot kiss.
When he spun us from the wall, I tightened my arms around him, not relaxing even after he set me down on the smooth kitchen counter. Neither of us broke the kiss. The velvet of his tongue and the not-so-gentle ministrations of his lips zinged pleasure through my body, and I wriggled closer.
A soft brush of his thumbs against my stomach only emphasized all of the clothing between us, and I unfisted my hands from Hudson’s shirt to wad the fabric more productively, tugging it up over his head. He leaned back to assist me, and I tightened my calves around him to keep him close. His shirt disappeared in the direction of the refrigerator while I admired his firm torso. I flattened my hands against his pectorals, then slid them down his chest, curling my fingers to lightly graze my nails across his abdomen. Hudson hissed, stomach tightening, and I glanced at him through my lashes.
“Christ, Eva.” Hudson slid a hand around the nape of my neck, pulling me to him for another intoxicating kiss, and when he drew back, my bra’s clasp hung undone against my back and my shirt was bunched around my ribs. Hudson circled his hands around my torso, pushing my bra and shirt aside to cup my breasts.
The heat of his palms saturated my skin, arousing and unexpectedly comforting. A rush of tenderness spiraled through my lust, and I ran my fingers across Hudson’s temple and down his cheek. His blue eyes lifted to mine, obviously surprised, but whatever he saw in my expression made him smile. He leaned into my touch, teasing his thumbs in slow circles around my nipples and sending leisurely waves of pleasure pulsing to my middle. I traced his lips, then stroked my thumb across his bottom lip, watching lust darken his expression until my own pleasure pulled my eyes closed.
Hudson shifted, and I slid my fingers through his hair as he dipped toward my breast, my gentle touch turning demanding when his mouth settled over my nipple, hot and wet. His tongue flicked across the sensitive peak, and I clutched his shoulders, clinging to him as I arched to give him better access.
“Hudson, I think . . .”
He trailed kisses across my chest to my other nipple, and I lifted toward him to meet his mouth, moaning as I watched his tongue flutter over my nipple. I writhed against him, pressing our bodies as close together as our clothing would allow.
“You think what?” Hudson breathed the words against my breast, but they didn’t register until he lifted his head.
“What?”
“You said you think . . .”
I stared at his kiss-swollen lips, trying to remember what I’d been saying. “I think I have too many clothes on.”
“I agree.” Hudson tugged my shirt and bra over my head and tossed them behind him to the floor. I reached for his pants, but he captured my hands and placed them back around his neck. “One second.”
He picked me up, and I think he meant to carry me to the bedroom, but we made it only as far as the couch. In a frantic, clumsy rush, we peeled our shoes, pants, and underwear off, and from somewhere, Hudson produced a condom. I would have cheered, but I was too busy kissing a path down his body. I reached his belly button when he stopped me.
“One lick, and I’m toast,” he said, his voice husky.
I arched an eyebrow and flicked my tongue over the crest of his cock.
“Eva!” Hudson stepped back, trying to give me a stern look but ruining it completely with a goofy grin. In record time, he rolled on the condom, then tipped me back onto the couch. I went willingly, reaching for him as he placed one knee between my legs. The couch was narrow, and it would be a tight fit, but I was certain we were up for the challenge.
With one foot still on the floor, Hudson captured my hands and lifted them above my head to anchor them against the armrest with one hand.
“Hey,” I protested halfheartedly.
“Shh.” He kissed me, a quick peck.
I lifted my eyebrows, not sure if I should object for real. Then his free hand traced down my arm, over my breast, and down my stomach, and I my potential complaint evaporated. Twisting his hand so his palm brushed my clitoris and his fingers slid between my thighs, Hudson slowly delved a finger inside me. I arched into his hand, gasping with delight when he made little circles with his palm.
I reached for him, but the weight of his hand on my wrists prevented me from moving. The rhythm of his other hand against me didn’t alter, building pleasure in a warm tide. I tentatively struggled, but it was like trying to move an iron bar. He had me trapped, pinned down and completely at his pleasurable mercy. And it was hot as hell.
“Hud . . . son.” My breath caught on a jolt of pleasure.
His smile when he met my eyes was cocky and only heightened my arousal.
“I want you,” I said. My words came out breathy and low, and Hudson’s smile dissolved as his features tightened with lust. He bent closer for a long, hot kiss, slowly sliding his fingers from me so I writhed against him. Releasing my wrists, he planted his other knee on the couch, and in
frustratingly slow increments, slid into me. I ran my hands up his taut forearms and biceps, straining toward him.
“You feel so good, Eva.”
“Faster,” I panted. “Please.”
“Uh-uh. We’ve been doing everything fast. Let’s take our time.”
“Now?”
His lazy grin surprised me. “Don’t think you can?”
I shook my head, my body thrumming with pleasure, my breath too fast for how still we lay. When he began to move—finally—pleasure suffused my body, tightening with each thrust. Hudson’s arms trembled, but he maintained his controlled, slow, maddening rhythm. I wrapped my legs around his hips and met him, thrust for thrust, until the pressure inside me rode the cusp between pleasure and pain and unraveled in an explosive, rolling orgasm. Hudson followed me, arching over me with a shout of release.
“Slow enough?” I asked later, once Hudson had shifted so I lay on top of him.
“Mmm. No, we’ll have to practice.”
* * *
I woke to the first light of dawn beyond the curtains in Hudson’s bedroom and the feel of Hudson’s large palm spread across my breast, his body spooning mine. I stretched against him, enjoying the ache of muscles well used. Warm lips brushed my shoulder, and Hudson eased closer. Yep, he was awake and happy. Neither of us spoke, as if afraid words would let the world rush in uninvited. It was only after we’d taken turns showering that we addressed reality.
“What’s the plan today?” Hudson asked as he poured two bowls of a granola.
“Go home. I need to clean up.” I dressed in the same jeans as the day before, and my duffel had included one final clean shirt, but even if I’d had another week’s worth of clean clothes, I was ready to be back in my loft.
“I’d better bring a change of clothes,” Hudson half teased.
“You’re coming with me?” I’d expected Hudson to go back to work today and reclaim some normalcy. Until Miriam got back to me, there wasn’t much else to do.
“Of course. Let me check with Matvei—”
The sliding glass door burst open. We both spun and I clutched at my heart. Miriam stood on Hudson’s back patio with her hands on her hips, letting in a rush of crisp morning air as she graced us with a professional glare.
Tiny Glitches: A Magical Contemporary Romance Page 27
