by Cherry Adair
Of course Henry was still in a coma and didn’t know anything right now. Her stomach cramped with fear.
“How is the project coming along?”
“We’re ahead of schedule by a few weeks, thank God,” Joanna answered. The knot-like pain in her middle unraveled as it always did at Grant’s soothing, matter-of-fact tone. “Serena came back from the Gobi project today. Whenever she’s on-site there’s a nice energy that she always brings with her. I admire her so much. She’s absolutely tireless, and I want to help her bring this dream of being able to plant crops anywhere to fruition.”
“I know you do, baby. And you will. Soon. I have all the faith in the world in you.”
She lifted her head and stroked his beautiful face with her blunt fingered, no-nonsense hand. What a ridiculous contrast. Almost beauty and the beastish, she thought painfully. What he saw in her she had no idea. But she was grateful beyond words that they’d accidentally bumped into each other in the bank back home in Chicago three months ago. It had been love at first sight. Unbelievable that he’d lived four miles away from her for years without her being aware of his existence.
They’d discovered mutual friends, they shopped at the same grocery store, and banked at the same bank, yet they’d never met before that fateful day.
Joanna had been widowed for eight years. Having her son to love had been enough for her since Drew had died of brain cancer. Case and her work consumed her life. And face it, she wasn’t exactly Christie Brinkley. She was thirty pounds overweight, hadn’t worn makeup since…she didn’t remember when, and had let her short dark hair go gray without a qualm. Grant loved her just the way she was. Amazing.
Better still, Casey already loved him, and Grant adored her son, and spoiled him terribly. There was something about her lover that filled her with a profound sense of well-being whenever he was around. And knowing that he was diligently searching for Casey made her heart swell with gratitude.
Joanna looped her arms about his neck and kissed his jaw. What a lovely man he was, inside and out. She hated to keep him a secret, but she had to see him every day, and Serena had cautioned all of them to keep a low profile and not invite anyone inside the project until they were ready to show it to the world.
“Oh, some guy showed up earlier,” she told him, nibbling his throat.
He stroked her breast until her nipple rose hard and aching in his palm. “Oh?”
“Serena didn’t look happy to see him. She introduced him—Duncan Edge? Then hustled him out of the room awfully fast, and disappeared with him. I’ve never seen her so agitated.” Which just proved how right she’d been not to introduce him to her friend. No, Grant could stay her own delicious secret for now. One thing that could no longer remain just her secret was Casey’s kidnapping. She had to tell Serena about the kidnappers’ threats to the project. She’d wanted to tell her boss and friend right from the start—
She suddenly experienced a little buzzing sensation in her brain, and her thoughts became jumbled and unclear. No. The kidnappers had warned her to tell no one. And she wouldn’t. Not when her precious son was with them.
Grant kneaded her shoulders. “You’re tight. Lie down. I’ll give you a nice relaxing massage.”
The “nice relaxing massage” would turn into sex. Joanna let him take her hand and lead her to the bed. He was so good to her, she thought, as he tenderly undressed her. So gentle and loving. He was the only thing in her shattered world that made any sense at all.
“I want to see this thing you’re working on.” Duncan paced around her furniture like a caged lion. Her room was too small for so much freaking activity. She watched him pick up a crude, hand-carved wood statue she’d been given by the children in Zimbabwe last year. After looking at it, he put it down and moved to the bookshelf to scan the titles.
Watching him, she bunched her hair and twisted it at her nape, then looked around for something to hold it there. She didn’t remember Duncan taking out the pins, but whatever he’d done with them, she couldn’t see them anywhere. Finding a pen on a nearby table, she efficiently anchored the glossy mass out of the way, immediately feeling more in control. “It’s good to want things,” she told him, heart still skipping beats.
She was shaken by the kiss. Shaken by the intensity of her feelings, and shaken by how much she’d wanted to keep on kissing him.
Duncan Edge of all people. God.
She dismissed out of hand her overwhelming desire to have sex with him. Nothing could come of it. An Edge and the descendant of Nairne, the woman who had cursed his family five hundred years ago. The thought of a physical union between the two of them sent a shiver up Serena’s spine.
She, like the three Edge brothers, had been brought up on a steady diet of Nairne’s Curse. Duncan had no idea that she’d always known about the Curse. Although for reasons she had never been able to fathom, he’d confided in her about it when they’d been sixteen.
It had been difficult, but she’d managed to keep an ancient family promise. She’d kept her connection to Nairne a closely guarded secret. And she always would.
By now the Curse should have run its course. Surely five hundred years was long enough to prove Nairne’s point? Apparently not. But judging by Duncan’s proclivity for mayhem and violence, Serena knew this generation of Edge brothers hadn’t yet figured out the secret to breaking it.
She knew. But if she told them she’d lose her own powers.
“You’re getting fingerprints on my things,” she told him crossly as he returned a book to the shelf. “Would you please settle somewhere—preferably London? You’re making me dizzy.”
“You always did get cranky when you’re embarrassed.” Duncan rested his hands on the sill behind him, leaned back, and crossed his ankles. “Thinking about the kiss?”
“What ki—Oh, you mean?” She waved vaguely to the spot across the room where the kiss had occurred.
Duncan laughed. “Your heart’s beating too fast for you to have forgotten, Fury.”
“It wasn’t that memorable, I assure you.” She didn’t want to talk about the kiss, she really didn’t. Time to change the subject to the lesser of two evils. “Just as a matter of curiosity, what makes you think that I’d show you what we’ve been working on?”
“Why not? It’s a humanitarian project, right? You raise funds for your projects. Perhaps I’m feeling altruistic and would like to make a sizable contribution.”
“Good. I’ll hold you to it,” she told him, wishing he’d shimmer the hell out of her room and leave her in peace. He’d always…bothered her. But now he was bothering her a lot more. She didn’t like it. Mostly, she didn’t like that she wanted to reach out and touch him.
“The blanket will be in transit from the warehouse where it was constructed the day after tomorrow. I’ll let you know when it gets here, and you can come back.”
“Let’s go now.”
“It’s the middle of the night.” He was relentless. She didn’t want to go anywhere with him. Not until she got her galloping hormones in check.
He glanced at the large, matte black watch on his wrist. “It’s barely ten.”
She didn’t mind showing him the thermal blanket. Duncan was many things, but Serena trusted him enough to know he wouldn’t do anything to screw up her project. Screw up her good intentions, yes. But once he saw how incredible the design was, how totally, brilliantly simple the thermal blanket was, he’d be impressed as hell. Maybe once he saw how dedicated they all were to the project, and how non-threatening it was, he’d go back to his own freaking business and leave her alone. After he made that generous donation.
“It’s in a warehouse on Vladimirskaya Street. Number 18739. I’ll meet you there in an hour. I have a few things to clear up first.” Like calling her lawyer to see how the motion hearing had gone that morning in New York. She hadn’t needed to be there, but she’d bet her new Ferragamo crocodile Avila pumps that both Ian’s sons had been perched, like the vultures they were, right in
the front row. She could just see Hugh and Paul, their pupils nothing but dollar signs, wearing their collective sense of entitlement on the sleeves of their custom-tailored suits. It was hard for her to fathom that sweet, kind Ian had fathered two such greedy, spoiled sons. But he had, and now they were a major thorn in her side.
“I’d prefer to go now.” Duncan zipped up his thick coat. “Together.”
Exhaling, she wondered if anyone had ever told him no and meant it. If a quick trip to the warehouse would get rid of him, she’d go. “Fine.” She knew she sounded ungracious, but what did he expect? It wasn’t as though she’d invited him to butt into her life any old time he felt like it.
She chose to pick her battles. This wasn’t one of them. She pulled on her coat, zipped the front, then pulled up the fur-lined hood, snugging it around her face. “Let’s do it.”
He gave her an amused look. “Unless you give me the exact coordinates, you’re going to have to touch me.”
Reluctantly, she walked up to him and grabbed his sleeve. “Happy?”
His laughter followed them as they teleported together. She’d never shimmered with anyone before today, and now she’d done it twice. It felt…pretty good. Until a rush of ice cold, garbage-scented air greeted them. She’d miscalculated by at least twenty feet, placing them outside instead of inside the nondescript building. Duncan gave her an amused look.
Releasing his sleeve without comment, Serena started walking across the weed-infested gravel parking lot, her breath pluming in front of her in the frigid air.
The cold made her lungs ache. “We’re here, aren’t we?”
His teeth flashed in the darkness. “A miss is as good as a mile.”
Oh, she wanted to make it rain on him, she really did. But he was walking too close, and she was damned if she’d get wet just to punish him. Besides, if she rained on him, it would freeze instantly and he’d know he’d gotten to her.
He, she knew, was pinpoint accurate when he teleported. He’d always been top of that class. In fact, he’d pretty much been top of every class, with herself and Trey always vying for second place.
The only thing that made his natural aptitude halfway bearable was the secret she held. Sometimes she wanted to rub the knowledge in his face. But that was petty and childish and beneath her. And against the rules, damn it.
She’d show off the thermal blanket, and wave him good-bye. After the Tests their paths didn’t need to cross for any reason whatsoever. With any luck she wouldn’t run into him again for twenty or thirty years. And when she became Head of Council, she’d have all the powers she could possibly need or want at her disposal. And that included pinpoint accuracy when teleporting.
The small industrial area was several miles out of town, and very quiet at this time of night. The crunch of their boots on the frozen layer of ice grouting the gravel sounded very loud in the still, cold air.
“You need to get that light fixed,” he told her. The bulb over the door had been burnt out, or stolen, but it wasn’t pitch dark. There was a fairly bright light over the door of the warehouse across the street that did an adequate job of lighting their way. They followed their shadows to a side door, and Serena used her code on a small panel to gain entrance.
Ordinary locks hadn’t worked. No matter how secure, they’d all been stolen. The keypad had been integrated into the tungsten steel security door. So far so good. Although every time she came here Serena expected the entire thing to be missing, despite builtin keypad, burglar-proof construction, and a strong protective spell.
She’d be happy when the blanket was loaded onto the Trans-Siberian railcars the day after tomorrow, and en route to their final destination. If they could figure out an efficient way to keep the blanket heated, or cooled, with an independent power source, they’d be ready for the first tests.
She stepped inside, flipped back her hood and locked the door behind them, then flicked on the overhead lights. They came on in a straight line high above in the rafters, POP, POP, POP, flooding the enormous shadowy space with white light. Metal pallets on wheels filled the room, each holding a roll fifteen feet high, covered in heavy black plastic.
Duncan glanced around. “Looks like a carpet warehouse.”
The place did look like a carpet warehouse, which was why she’d be grateful when the rolls shipped out. The locals were already curious about the contents of the warehouse without knowing what it contained. If they thought she was storing carpeting, a highly desirable commodity, they’d try just about anything to get in. “I’ll partially unroll one for you to take a look at.”
With a wave of her hand she peeled back the thick protective covering, then caused the top of the roll to unfurl onto the floor at their feet.
Duncan crouched down, picking up a corner. “Heavy. Looks like the netting used to string Christmas lights over shrubbery.”
“It is based on that, as a matter of fact. Our textile engineer came up with a viable material.” Serena crouched down beside him. Their knees touched. She felt a curious zing of electricity pass through her body, but didn’t move out of the way.
“The blanket will be rolled out, when it’s in place the sections will be connected—”
“What size are we talking about?” He put his hand out to grasp her arm as she started to lose her balance.
His hand remained on her arm. “A football field is about—what?” she said, hoping her start at his touch wasn’t obvious in her voice. Damn it. She’d always had a crush on him. But this was ridiculous. This feeling wasn’t as simple and innocuous as a crush. This emotion was stronger, fresher, more powerful.
Why him? Why now?
Why not? her mind demanded. Oh, crap. Don’t even go there. There were plenty of reasons why not him. The two primary ones being Duncan and Edge.
“Including the end zones and sidelines? A hundred and twenty yards by fifty-three and a third,” he said almost absently, watching her mouth.
“Whatever.” She imagined she could feel the heat of his large hand, even through the thickness of her down coat. “Each of the sections will make up an area approximately one quarter of that. When they’re joined it’ll be the size of a football field. An acre of land covered by this thermal blanket. See this?” She draped the heavy, silvery-gray, open weave fabric over her palm.
“The thermal blanket will keep the plants not only warm, but fertilized and watered through microscopic perforations, similar to a garden soaker hose. The crops will grow through the netting.”
“Very short, stubby crops apparently,” he said skeptically. “The ground might be heated, but the air isn’t.”
“With the correct power source, the team believes this blanket will warm the air up to seven or eight feet above the ground. An invisible greenhouse, in effect. Everything protected from even the harshest environment.” She glanced up and met his eyes. “Amazing, huh?”
He frowned as though something was bothering him and said slowly, “Amazing is one way to put it. Yeah.” He rose, reaching out his hand to help her up. The look he was giving her made the little hairs stand up on the back of her neck.
Pretending she hadn’t seen his offer, or that hot, predatory gleam in his suddenly dark eyes, Serena got to her feet on her own. “Seen enough?”
“For now. Yeah. Got a bulb?”
She frowned. “You want to plant something?”
“Lightbulb.”
“I’ll have one of the men install it tomorrow.”
“Now would be better.”
She sighed. He was right. But what a guy thing. She strode into the small, dirty office nearby, opened a cabinet, and handed him a four-pack with a lone bulb in it. “Here you go. Then we’d better leave.”
She didn’t want him helping her. The sooner she put some distance between them, the better. Especially since she was having a hard time keeping her brain and her body from replaying that kiss. She tried to convince herself that her reaction to his mouth on hers was a simple function of biology. She
hadn’t had sex in almost two years.
The problem was she didn’t want sex. She wanted Duncan. And that wasn’t even a remote possibility. Not with Nairne’s Curse wedged between them.
He removed the bulb, tossing the empty container into a nearby trash can. “Come with me.”
She relaxed fractionally and smiled. “Scared of the dark?”
“Itch on the back of my neck. Stay close.”
“No thanks. It’s too cold to go back outside.” She arranged her hood over her head, feeling the sensuous brush of the soft fur against her cheeks. Suddenly Serena had a vivid image of herself and Duncan, naked, sprawled on a soft black fur rug—Don’t go there. Do not go there, she warned herself.
“I’m going back to the facility. You get back to…whatever.” Annoyed that he’d invaded her imagination and wouldn’t leave, she glared at the lightbulb he was holding. “Don’t you know how to install it from here?” Filled with a restless longing that wasn’t going to be addressed, she felt cranky and out of sorts.
In other words she felt exactly like she always felt when she was around Duncan. Crazy with longing, and cross that she couldn’t seem to move beyond wanting him. It wasn’t as though they could ever be together. Not in any meaningful way, anyway.
How about in a nonmeaningful way? she asked herself.
No. Not that way either. She’d never been satisfied with half of anything. Nope. Her best bet was to stay as far away from Duncan as possible until these feelings died a natural death.
The fact that the last fifteen years had intensified, not diminished, her response to him, was grounds for some concern. But Serena figured as long as Duncan wasn’t aware of her feelings, she could work on getting an antidote.
A lust-for-Duncan-Edge antidote. She’d get right on that.
