Hello, Gorgeous!

by MaryJanice Davidson

  “Son. I spent three hours with her. Her attributes are obvious. I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

  He turned to look at her, this woman, his mother, a woman gifted with a fine and crafty intelligence, a woman who nearly killed herself putting herself through medical school after the death of his father, a woman determined to give them both a good life. “I just wish I knew about her and the Wagner team. I was hoping you could find out.”

  “Well, my crystal ball is broken, but another one has been posted. Meantime, all I can do is work with her, and hopefully, we’ll find things out.”

  “Hmph.”

  “For what it’s worth, when I’m with the woman, when I’m talking to her and listening to her chatter on about various amusing things, I have trouble imagining her capable of such violence. But,” she added, finishing her cognac in one gulp, “it would not be the first time a sociopath was able to fool a member of the psychiatric profession. By the way, who won?”

  “Who won what?”

  “The race. It’s all over the castle that you two were working out together today.”

  “As a matter of fact, I did.”

  “Oh.” His mother grinned at him. “Too bad. I love you more than my life, Deemie, but you can be unbearably arrogant at times. I was hoping this Caitlyn James would put you in your place. Heaven knows you need it.”

  “Thank you,” he said dryly.

  Chapter 25

  She was getting ready for bed at the end of a very long, very strange day, when she heard a discreet tap at her chamber. Chamber, not room. A room was what she had back home, about thirteen by fifteen feet. These… quarters, whatever you’d call them—well, let’s just say the attached bathroom was as big as her bedroom at home.

  “Just a second,” she said, and shrugged into the robe thoughtfully provided. In fact, that made her a little hot under the collar. Did Yummy Dmitri have so many lady friends that he kept whole closets full of women’s clothes? Creepy. And annoying. And creepy. “Come in!”

  Speak of the devil, there he was. He had changed clothes, was casually dressed in khaki shorts and a dark blue T-shirt. Since it was about ten below outside, that was admirable. Or stupid. “Good evening. I trust you’ve found everything you need?”

  “Yes.” Ya big pig! “What’s up?”

  “Oh, I was just… just passing by your room and I thought I’d… I’d check in on you.”

  “Okay, thanks. Listen, there’s no central heating in this place, is there? Because I’m freezing my ass off.”

  “Oh, it’s cold?” he said vaguely. “I hadn’t noticed. I do apologize. I’ll have someone come in and lay a fire for you,” he added, nodding to the fireplace in the corner, a massive thing of marble and stone that looked big enough to roast an entire cow in.

  “Swell.”

  There was a short silence, broken by his “I just finished talking with my mother.”

  “Okay.”

  “She thought you were… very charming.”

  “Good to know.” What was with this guy? He was pretty much loitering in her room. Well, his room. It was his castle after all. It was almost like he had something on his mind but wasn’t sure how to go about doing it. And though she’d known the Wolf less than twenty-four hours, she knew without a doubt that if something was on his mind, you knew about it. “So, well, what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

  “My mother would like to meet with you again. Nine o’clock, if it’s not too much trouble.”

  “Uh-huh. I’ll bet she does.” Caitlyn grinned. “She’s still trying to figure out if I’m a nut-job, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Well, okay. And maybe we can work out together again. That was fun, earlier. I’d like to try the pool. That was a good idea, the pool.”

  “Yes. I agree. I—I enjoyed it immensely.”

  “Well, me too. I miss working out with someone. So, if we use the pool, is there a swimsuit I can borrow?”

  “Yes.”

  “Ah-ha! Why? Why are there women’s clothes all over the place?”

  “Not all over the place,” Dmitri replied, puzzled. “Just in your quarters. When you agreed to come home with me, I radioed ahead and had my staff pick up some clothes for you. Why? Don’t you like them?”

  “Oh. Oh! Yeah, they’re fab. Thanks. Really. That was super thoughtful.” Sweet and charming and soooo thoughtful! Oh, he was swell. “So, anyway, I was saying about working out, there’s my friend Stacy, but she doesn’t exactly work out with me. She doesn’t even get sweaty. Just watches me and we talk and stuff.”

  “That’s nice,” he said absently, crossing the room to her. “There is something else I’ve been thinking about. Something else I think I would enjoy immensely.”

  Then he pulled her to him and kissed her. But “he kissed her” was a little like saying “he dropped the bomb and it went off.” It felt like more, much more. His arms were around her with possessive, almost bruising strength, his mouth was on hers, his tongue parting her lips (which, to be fair, were open in surprise, so it wasn’t exactly difficult), and he was pulling her against him so she was standing on tiptoe. And kissing him back, of course. Why not? It was the chance of a lifetime.

  She brought her hands up and put them on his broad chest, warm even through his T-shirt. Her tongue touched his and she bit his lower lip lightly, and he made a sound, some sound, and tightened his grip.

  “Well?” she gasped, pulling back. “Were you right? Did you enjoy it immensely?”

  “I did, my ausra.”

  “What?” ‘

  “It means sunrise.”

  “Oh.” His hands were at the belt of her robe, and she thought, Bad, bad idea, but her hands wouldn’t move to stop him, just clutched his shoulders with desperate strength, strength that would probably hurt anyone else on the planet, strength he didn’t notice as he spread her robe open and sucked in his breath.

  “You surprised me with your knock,” she teased. “I didn’t have time to get a nightgown on.”

  “Thank God,” he said, and pulled her down on the bed with him. His mouth was on her neck, pressing kisses to her throat, and she touched his black hair, which was as crisp-silky as she had imagined it would be. And his mouth! Oh, Christ, his mouth. Hot and skilled and hungry all at once, and she didn’t care where he kissed her as long as he didn’t stop. He had worked down to her shoulders, nibbled her collarbone, and his hand came up and closed over a breast, then began rubbing in slow, lazy circles, and she groaned as she felt her nipple harden against his palm.

  “You are a banquet,” he whispered, nuzzling her cleavage.

  “You are… are…” Nope. No good. Words were not enough. You are too sublime? Too fabulous? Too amazing to be real? That last one was about right. “Uh…”

  “Never mind,” he said, and laughed, and sucked one of her nipples into his mouth.

  Too good? Too damned skilled? Too inhuman? Did nano-bytes make you a better lover? She’d ask a member of the Wagner team, except most of them were dead. Most of them—

  She still felt like ripping his shirt and shorts off and riding him into the sunset, like Silver the horse, but now the cold hand of reason had her and she thought, Am I really going to do it with a guy I think might be a killer?

  No.

  Oh, God, she nearly wept. Really? No? Stupid conscience!

  But it was no good. The file of the murdered men and woman flashed before her, Egghead #1 prominently among them. She hadn’t liked him much, hadn’t liked any of the doctors and lab guys much, but she hadn’t killed them, and whoever had needed to be stopped and, even better, brought to justice.

  Dmitri was licking her nipples with the keen concentration of a cat involved with cream, and judging by the hot, long lump throbbing against her thigh, enjoying himself as much as she was.

  Too bad. She hadn’t come here to get laid. Okay, that wasn’t exactly true. But she’d also come here to find things out. And not how long Dmitri’s dick was either, or w
hat he could do with it, what he would do to her with it—

  (Oh, God!)

  —but what had happened to the Wagner team, and if the Wolf was responsible.

  She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed. He didn’t move. She thought, Help me out, nanobytes, I need to get this guy off me, and pushed again, and he went flying back and hit the floor with a sickening thump.

  “What the hell?” he said, almost shouted, leaping to his feet. His face was flushed, and as she watched him visibly struggle to get himself under control, she thought nervously that he looked very, very dangerous… and capable of anything.

  “Sorry,” she said, trying not to pant. “But it’s a bad idea.”

  “The hell” he said again, scowling at her.

  Her fingers itched to be in his hair again, so she sat on her hands. Then remembered her robe was gaping open, and. tied it closed. “I’m not here for that,” she said. “And it better not be why you brought me here.”

  “It—it wasn’t. But—but—“

  Wow. The Wolf was practically stammering. She hardened her heart. “Like I said. Bad idea. Good night.”

  For a long moment he stared at her, and she wondered what she’d do if he didn’t leave. Fight him, I guess. Fight and probably lose, but I’d try. I’d try and he’d… he’d… what in the world would he do?

  She nearly cried as he glared at her. She had such a crush, and wanted him to think only nice things about her. She seriously doubted he was thinking anything nice right now.

  And it hadn’t exactly been easy to push him away. She had needs too.

  He muttered something in a language she assumed was Lithuanian, probably “cock tease,” then stalked out and . slammed the big old heavy door behind him.

  She collapsed back on the bed and put her hands over her face. Oh I am in so much trouble, because I want him like I want food and water, want him and need him, but I can’t, we can’t, because I don’t know… don’t know if he killed those people… and what’s worse is, right now I don’t especially care.

  She cried herself to sleep.

  Dmitri listened to her crying, went to his bedroom door for the sixth time in three minutes, then let his hand drop before it could even twist the knob. She had chosen this, she had driven him away, and if she was regretting any actions, it was none of his and all of hers.

  His pride hurt almost as much as… other things. Clearly, she wanted nothing to do with him, and he knew exactly why. He wasn’t a whole man—without the nanobytes in his system, he would have been long dead. She knew it—hadn’t she asked his mother about the accident? Hadn’t she asked him about it—knew it and didn’t want him, and who could blame her?

  He could.

  He should have known. She was so pretty and vivacious and smart and beautiful and charming and lovely, what did she want with someone like him? A cold man, a man many assumed had no heart… just a bunch of circuitry. He had been insane to even go to her room, a fact he had known before he’d gone. But the rule of his head wasn’t enough, and finally he had gone.

  And he had thought… had been so happy when she seemed to welcome his embrace, glory in his touch, and he’d never wanted any woman the way he had wanted her at that moment.

  And then she had pushed him off her and sent him away.

  He rested his forehead on his arms and closed his eyes.

  Chapter 26

  “Wake up. Caitlyn. Get up.”

  Time for school already? Well, she’d have Stacy go to class and take notes for her… no, not Stacy, she was probably still at last night’s party… Deb? Jan? George?

  “Caitlyn. Get up.”

  She rolled away from the command, but the hand shaking her shoulder would not be dislodged. “Oh, fuck,” she said, opening her eyes. “Someone better be on fire.”

  Dmitri was there, had his hand on her, was shaking her awake. Dark stubble bloomed along his jaw, and she was staring so hard, she almost missed what he said. “There’s been another murder.”

  “What?” She sat up so quickly, she got dizzy for a second. She glanced over at the window, but it was still dark. Her internal clock informed her it was 4:33 A.M. local time. “Where?”

  “In the States, of course,” he said impatiently. “The next-to-last member of the Wagner team is dead. The—Gregory Hamlin called. He asked us both to come.”

  She’d fallen asleep barely an hour before and it was hard to focus. Dmitri was dressed in the same shorts and shirt, and in a flash of insight she knew he hadn’t slept, hadn’t even been to bed. “Another… last night?”

  “The body was found thirty minutes ago, this time in the O.S.F. lab. The killer is getting bolder.”

  “Or more desperate. Shit. Shit! Okay, give me a minute.”

  “You have ten. Then we’re flying back to the States.”

  “We are, huh? Didn’t know you missed the gang at O.S.F. so much.”

  He leveled her with a look. “People are dying.”

  “Yeah, thanks, I got the news flash. At least I know you’re not the killer. And now you know I’m not the killer.”

  He blinked. “Yes. Quite right.”

  “Well, good. It was weird, staying in your castle and wondering if you were a slobbering psychopath. I’m sorry about last night,” she added, because his jaw was clenched so hard, she expected to see him spit teeth out in another minute. “It’s not that I didn’t want to. It’s just…”

  “I understand,” he said flatly. “Get dressed.” And he was gone.

  She groaned and climbed out of bed. Great way to start the morning. Pissed-off rogue agents and dead people. Fuck a duck.

  “So, the Boss is expecting us?”

  Silence. This was a big improvement over the last hour of the flight, which had been filled with silence. He was pissed at her, and she couldn’t blame him, but she also couldn’t help a flash of irritation. Men were such babies when you told them No Way. Held it against you for days.

  “Well, that’s good,” she said, pretending he had answered. “Because I’d hate to surprise that son of a bitch. He’s bad enough when he’s expecting me.”

  Silence, except for the occasional click as the Wolf typed a new command into his laptop.

  “You know, this whole thing is just chock full of irony. Here we are, winging our way to the Boss to help him out, when I swore not only would I not work for him, but I wouldn’t cross the street to spit on him if his ass was on fire.”

  Silence.

  “Well, I’m glad we got all this straightened out,” she said sarcastically. Abruptly, she stood. “I’m gonna check out your little pad on wings, if you don’t mind. And even if you do.”

  She flounced toward the back of the plane. Though the jet could easily seat fifty people, only she, Dmitri, the pilot, the copilot, and an attendant were on board. The attendant, a petite redhead with Orphan Annie hair and the greenest eyes Caitlyn had ever seen was in the front, chatting with the copilot. Caitlyn had refused breakfast and an early morning cocktail, being too wired and weirded out to eat or drink. Maybe later.

  She tapped on a small door she assumed was a bathroom and, when nobody told her to fuck off, pushed it open.

  It wasn’t a bathroom. It was the tiniest, most perfect-looking bedroom she’d ever seen. There was a twin bed, made up with military precision—if she sat on it, she’d bounce—and loads of pillows. There were three tiny windows so she could see out, and a small desk and chair. There was even a miniature refrigerator in the corner, which brought her back to her and Stacy’s dorm days. Their little fridge had always been full of Zima and cottage cheese and chocolate milk. The combination wasn’t so bad once you had enough Zimas in you.

  She turned to go—and smacked right into Dmitri’s chest. That was weird, if slightly yummy. He’d obviously followed her to the back of the jet, which was way better than ignoring her.

  “What—” was all she got out before he kicked the door shut behind him and thumbed the lock. “Oh.”

  Sti
ll, he didn’t say a word, just looked at her with his intense gaze, and she had the oddest feeling… almost like he was hurt, like she had harmed him. Ha! Like a mirage could ever hurt a wolf.

  He pushed her back toward the bed and she went, willingly enough. There wasn’t any reason to send him away now… he wasn’t the killer. And she still wanted him from last night. Shit, wanted him from seeing him at her party, would want him anytime, anywhere.

  But as he pulled her shirt over her head, as he rapidly disrobed, as her leggings went flying, she had to wonder: Did she want this right now, this way? It was almost like he was… punishing her.

  She decided, when his tongue thrust past her teeth, when he plunged his hands into her hair and pressed her to him, that she did. If he was mad and wanted to pay her back, fine. She’d worry about what it all meant… later. She’d worry later.

  Right now the lust that had kept her awake, the desire that had made her cry herself to sleep, had flared back to life, had come surging back the moment she heard the lock click home. Stupid to play Outraged Virgin right now… not when they both needed exactly the same thing.

  He lifted her to him and she felt her back against the wall—literally!—and then he was parting her with rough fingers and surging inside her. It hurt, but oh, it was good at the same time, it was what she’d needed. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he held her easily, and pumped, pumped, pumped.

  She groaned and he said through gritted teeth, “Hurts?”

  “Yes.”

  “Shall I stop?”

  “No,” she said, and when she heard her voice she was surprised—was that sweetly husky tone hers? It seemed to affect him too, because he closed his eyes and shuddered. And all the while he was pumping against her and holding her, his hands easily supporting her in the air, clutching the backs of her thighs.