Love 2.0

by Lee Kilraine

  “I know.” She cupped her hand against his, tight against her breast, over her heart. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do for me.”

  “How much do you remember from the account books of Ivan’s company?” Kaz’s muscles tensed under her. “Would you be willing to try writing up a list of any accounts or entries that looked suspicious or just off?

  Mira lay with her head on Kaz’s chest, running her hand softly over the sleek muscles of his forearm. Her hand paused and she lifted her head, her gaze searching his face. “I’d be willing. When I worked there, I got in the habit of red-flagging the line items that couldn’t be accounted for or appeared with no explanation. I’m sure I can recall some of that information.”

  “Great. It might be the last piece of the puzzle we need to lock the bastard down. Or it could be nothing, but we might as well use every weapon we’ve got against him.” Kaz rolled them over until he lay on top of her with his weight resting on his forearms on either side of her. “I love your mind.”

  “Really?” She looked up at him, searching for the truth in his eyes. “It’s not too weird?”

  “It’s fascinating. Truly. And the fact that you’re looking at me like that with amazement and wonder means the men in your life have all been idiots. I feel compelled to show you how much I appreciate you.”

  Mira grinned. “Oh I’m feeling your appreciation all right.”

  “It’s hard to hide right now.” He rolled his hips hard into her and appreciated her at least two more times until Mira finally fell asleep. Kaz placed a kiss on her shoulder, then went back to his office to work. The first thing he did was hog-tie and quarantine his pride and then picked up the phone.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Well, it hadn’t taken a cold day in hell to get him back in the FBI office. Just one crazy psycho Russian threatening the woman he loved.

  Yes. He went there. It was strange how it happened, but maybe not. Because it seemed like he fell in love in a heartbeat.

  When Mira had slipped under the table, looking up at him with fear in her eyes, he’d admitted his many years of meditation and nonviolent mediation was the last thing on his mind. And when Prostakov spewed his lies on TV, accusing her of a crime? He’d had a sudden violent urge to rip the bastard’s face off.

  But when the haze of anger lifted, he plunged into tearing into Ivan Prostakov’s life, and he went deep into the darkest bowels of the internet to find his slimy trail and his crooked path. It was no wonder the FBI didn’t want to waste their energy or budget on tracking him down. He was a third-tier Redfella. A lower-level foot soldier in the Russian Mafia, easily replaceable should he be caught or killed. That didn’t matter to Kaz. He’d made it his mission to dig up everything he could, and he did. He found all of Ivan’s dirty laundry and criminal activity. Well, maybe not all but enough.

  Enough to do some time here in the United States, but Kaz always was an overachiever. That’s right. He’d kept on digging until he had a trail of evidence the Russians might want to handle on their own. And just for the heck of it, he’d documented some criminal activity in Bulgaria too. He wanted the son of a bitch locked up tight, far away from Mira, where she’d never have to worry about him again.

  So here he sat in a conference room of the Charlotte FBI field office, waiting for Special Agent in Charge Taggart and Agent Jones, who were only overdue by—he glanced at his watch—thirty-five minutes. At least this time it was a normal-size table, so that should keep the bullshit level down a bit.

  Kaz got it. He wasn’t a team player and needed to be shown who was in charge. Needed to swallow his pride. Right. This wasn’t about groveling, no matter how much Jones flashed his smug smile during the meeting. Nope. Kaz was there to offer the FBI a deal and he’d made it sweet enough that they’d take it. And Jones was going to hate it.

  Nope, Kaz didn’t mind the wait, knowing he had that moment to look forward to.

  Taggart and Jones walked in exactly an hour after the agreed-upon meeting time.

  They had to prove they were bigger dicks. Oh wait, that wasn’t the expression he’d meant. Prove they had bigger dicks.

  “Cates.” Taggart shook his hand, then sat directly across the three-foot-wide table from him. “I was glad to receive your call. Like I said last time we met, we could use your help. Isn’t that right, Agent Jones?”

  Jones grunted from the chair he’d pulled back a few feet away from the table. Message received. He could play his games all day long as long as Kaz got what he wanted.

  “Let me give you an overview of what we’re dealing with and what our target is . . .” With an abrupt clearing of his throat, Taggart proceeded to lay out the goals of the operation and who they were hoping to catch in their net.

  At some point Jones took over, going over a PowerPoint presentation that included photos of the main players. They had facts and numbers of the amount of money they’d calculated had been laundered through the new Mafia expansion into Charlotte and which Miami mob bosses where involved.

  “So that’s it. Any questions about what we need from you?”

  “No. I don’t think so.” He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a thumb drive, placing it on the table in front of him. “Half of what you need from me is here. The rest will take a few more days, unless your IT team or cyber division has been on this for a while.”

  Taggart sat back in his chair.

  “Now let’s talk about what I need from you.”

  “You’re full of shit, Cates.” Jones crossed his arms over his chest. “You know that’s not the way it works.”

  “Shut up, Jones.” Taggart leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Let’s hear it.”

  “Okay.” Kaz pulled out a second thumb drive and tossed it to Jones. “Would you mind plugging that in to the projector?”

  Jones wasn’t happy about it, but Taggart had chosen sides and Jones was stuck for now.

  Ivan’s face came up on the screen.

  “This is Ivan Prostakov. He’s part of the money-laundering scheme, plus he’s got a lucrative Medicare insurance fraud going down in Miami. He’s also part of the new blood, dipping his toe here in Charlotte. He’s a small fish in the pond, but I want him reeled in when you cast the net.”

  “You want the Bureau to waste our budget tracking down a two-bit Redfella because you have some personal gripe with him?” Jones snorted.

  “You won’t be wasting any of your budget. I’ve already tracked him down. I’ve done all the research and documented it. All you have to do is scoop him up when you bust everyone else.” Kaz picked up the drive still in front of him, turning it around in his hands before looking back up at Taggart. “And you’d be tracking him down because he’s a criminal who’s broken the law, here and in at least two foreign countries.”

  “Done.” Taggart reached across the table and shook his hand. “The quicker the better. We’d like to move quickly and hope the Russians get the message. We don’t want them to get a toehold in another major city.”

  “Understood. Thank you, sir.”

  “Don’t thank me yet, Cates.” He grinned as he stood up. “You and Jones will be working together. Like professionals.”

  Jones narrowed his eyes at him.

  This should be fun.

  * * *

  Mira lay stretched across Kaz’s soft gray sheets and knew without opening her eyes she was alone. It wasn’t just that she had a vague memory of Kaz placing a kiss on her shoulder before unwrapping their limbs from each other and sliding out from under her. No, the light hum of energy that grabbed hold of her when she was near him was missing.

  She pulled one of the pillows up to her cheek, rubbing it and absorbing Kaz’s scent. The faintest aroma of sandalwood and cedar and deep, mysterious ocean. Masculine yet natural.

  The last twenty-four hours her emotions had been pulled into every direction. Ivan had thrown her into a slow-burning anger with his stunt. She knew he’d meant to get h
er attention, and maybe cause her to be afraid or feel threatened enough that she’d . . . what . . . what did his twisted mind think she’d do? He didn’t know her at all if he thought she’d run back to him.

  Even if she hadn’t had Kaz helping her, she’d never have run back to Ivan.

  But she did have Kaz in her life right now. Oh boy did she have Kaz. In fact, she’d had Kaz in his king-size bed, up against the wall in his shower, and on his kitchen counter. Thanks to Kaz, she’d slept the dreamless sleep of the well-sated.

  She wouldn’t be surprised if Kaz had approached lovemaking the way he did every topic he was curious about. With deep, comprehensive study. With years of reading up on various methods. The man’s detailed knowledge of tantric sex alone should be enough to earn him a PhD.

  And based on last night, she guessed Kaz hadn’t stopped there. No, the very patient and very thorough man must have read every article ever written on what women wanted in bed. Three words: Oh. My. God.

  Or it was entirely possible this was what lovemaking was like when you were in love. Head over heels in love.

  She finally forced herself out of Kaz’s bed, and into her own shower. Once dressed, she went in search of Kaz, a little curious about how their relationship would change after last night. Neither one of them had offered any promises or declarations, but the air was sweeter this morning, the sky brighter, the coffee—okay, well, maybe the coffee was the same, but you get the idea.

  There was a note from Kaz on the counter, and simply seeing his angular and precise handwriting sent a thrill through her. Oh boy, she had it bad.

  M—

  In Charlotte. Back later.

  K

  Hmm. Not very morning afterish, but Kaz was a man of few words and a computer nerd at that, so what had she expected?

  Mira managed to keep busy by starting on the list Kaz had asked her to write up. She didn’t get very far because she also replayed last night’s lovemaking through her mind more than a few times. She painted her nails, tried to read, and basically puttered around uselessly for the next five hours until she heard Kaz’s truck pull into the garage.

  Running her fingers through her hair, she tried to settle her heart rate down as she stood in the doorway of the kitchen waiting for Kaz to come into the house. Her stomach flip-flopped when he entered.

  “Oh, hey, Mira. Everything okay here?” He threw his keys on the small table in the hallway, pausing for her response but his gaze barely meeting hers before shifting away.

  “Yes. More than okay actually. I’m glad you’re back.” She flashed a smile up at him.

  “I’ve got a few hours of work in my office I’ve got to handle. So . . . I’ll see you later.” He gave her a nod and disappeared into his office, shutting the door behind him.

  Um, what just happened? Mira had figured things would change—but not like that. He’d greeted her like he’d greet a stranger on a bus. Sure it was bound to be awkward, but not that awkward. She didn’t know what she was expecting . . . a kiss hello? A hug? His hand reaching for hers? Maybe he needed time to process what had happened last night—how their relationship had changed. That was fine. She got it. Although not really. Fine. She’d give him his space, but something about the way Kaz’s gaze had shifted quickly from hers trampled all over the happiness she’d woken up with.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Four days later that space Mira had given Kaz felt more like an ever-widening gap too large to cross over. She and Kaz were living under the same roof, but they rarely saw each other or even talked.

  You know when a guy has some harebrained idea about what women want and in reality what she wanted was the exact opposite? She was beginning to think that was where this was headed. Yet Kaz was a smart man. Often intuitive in uncanny ways so Mira forced herself to give him the benefit of the doubt. He was simply focused on helping her with Ivan. She’d wait for him to resurface and keep him fed in the meanwhile.

  Kaz was practically living in his study. She honestly wasn’t sure if he’d left it. Not to sleep. Not to eat. Maybe only to use the bathroom, but she’d swear that was it. Once or twice when she took him a meal, she’d find him sleeping on the couch in his office. But he’d sit up, instantly alert, as if the few minutes of sleep he was catching had recharged his battery to full, and he’d head back to his computer.

  The contacts Kaz had mentioned began showing up two days ago. At least once a day someone in a dark suit pulled up in a dark car and disappeared behind the closed door of his office. Two of his brothers, Quinn and Paxton, dropped by and spent hours cooped up in his office with him too.

  The first two days Mira managed to make semihealthy meals she knew Kaz would appreciate. But by the third day she was out of healthy meal ideas and getting more than a bit worried at the distance growing between them. And pissed. Had she mentioned pissed?

  Right, so when she’d run out of healthy ideas for the decreasing food in the fridge, she made a run over to Frock Foods. You know that rule, never grocery shop when you’re hungry? There should be another rule, never grocery shop when you’re pissed.

  Because Mira didn’t even bother to buy the healthy food she knew Kaz liked. Nope, she stocked up on comfort food and then maybe threw in a few items to get Kaz’s attention.

  For breakfast on the fourth day she’d made eggs with a side of syrup-drenched chocolate chip pancakes that were loaded with sugar and had next to no nutritional value.

  Guess who ate them without a blink? That was her first clue that he was hyperfocused and distracted and possibly heading into oblivion. Her worry morphed into confusion. And by confusion she really meant more like a what-the-heck-is-his-problem pissed. For lunch she made up a batch of her mami’s macaroni and cheese, which called for a cheeselike product Kaz was sure to express shock over. He ate it right down.

  When Paxton arrived late that afternoon, Mira headed him off on his path to the office.

  “Paxton, I’m worried about your brother.”

  “Which one?”

  “Kaz. Why would I be worried about the others?”

  “You obviously don’t know my brothers.” Paxton steered Mira into the kitchen before asking, “Why are you worried about Kaz?”

  “He’s a mess. He’s not getting any sleep.”

  “That’s sort of normal for him.”

  “Hardly talking.”

  “That too. You’ve noticed he’s a man of few words, right?”

  “He’s eating weird things.”

  “Doesn’t he always? Mira, it’s sweet you’re concerned, but it all sounds pretty normal for Kaz.”

  He didn’t get it. Fine. She’d demonstrate. “Okay, if you say so.”

  “I do.” He patted her on the shoulder. “Try not to worry.”

  So Mira made dinner and took a plate in to Kaz. She walked by both Quinn and Paxton on the couch, holding the plate low so they could clearly see the meal before she handed it to Kaz at his desk. The plate was full of Franken foods—a fried pizza pouch, pork rinds, and some plastic-wrapped, chemical-laden sugary treat in bright pink icing.

  Kaz thanked her politely and proceeded to eat the whole plate of food without comment.

  Paxton’s mouth fell open and Quinn’s eyebrows rose.

  Mira arched an eyebrow at Paxton, having proven her point.

  “Hey, Kaz, maybe you should get some sleep,” Quinn said.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Really?” Paxton crossed his arms over his chest and nodded to the empty plate on the desk in front of him. “Do you realize you just ate a whole plate of processed junk food?”

  “What? Why would you give me that?” Kaz stared at the empty plate in front of him before pushing his glasses up with a finger and looking at Mira. Actually focusing and seeing her for the first time in four days. “Are you trying to kill me?”

  “Just trying to get your attention actually.” Mira narrowed her eyes on Kaz, her heart tripping when his gaze heated for an unguarded second. She may be frustrate
d with him but, sadly, that didn’t change what he did to her pulse. Especially when he had his glasses on. Was a simple crumb of attention too much to ask for? And wasn’t that pitiful of her? So pitiful she decided she was fed up with both Kaz and herself and left the room, closing the door firmly behind her. Firm . . . slam . . . whatever.

  “Hey, Mira?

  She turned around at the sound of Kaz’s voice, relief and hope flitting in her chest like a small bird gliding on uplifting gusts of warm thermal air. Just like her mami always said, patience produces fruit. “Yes?”

  He stepped out of the office, pulling the door not quite closed behind him. “You forgot this.”

  Mira stared down at his empty plate and had an instant urge to practice the wrist-throat-nuts-nose exercise. She reached out her hand, accepting the plate from him while only contemplating hitting him on the head with it for a half second. “Right.”

  “I know I’ve said all along I wouldn’t help you, but I think it’s time to take a second look into the idea of you disappearing.”

  Pain hit her chest as if Kaz had reached into it and yanked her heart out. What was he saying? She opened her mouth to respond, but the muscles in her throat had tensed up so tight she could barely get any words out. “Why? Why now?”

  His gaze jerked around over her face before actually meeting her eyes. “Things are different now, Mira.”

  He might as well have slapped her. She was completely gutted at his suggestion.

  “Just . . . think about it.” Kaz shoved his hands into his pants pockets, jiggling his keys once before he stopped. He opened his mouth to speak but instead shook his head once and turned, reentering his office, closing the door, and shutting her out.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  How the fuck did he just get through that? Shit. That had to have been one of the hardest things he’d ever done. He’d had to force the damn words through his lips and shove his hands in his pockets to stop himself from grabbing her into his arms. But he knew getting Mira far away was the safest thing he could do for her.