"There's no chance you're mistaken, is there?"
"Nope."
"I'm glad I've sent in a salvage crew to retrieve the plane. I want the evidence."
"Who do you think they were trying to take out?"
"I doubt they cared. They knew the plane belonged to me. It was meant as a warning."
"But if we hadn't lived to tell about it, what sort of warning would that have been?"
"I would have known. I'll put in a call to the owner of the hangar. I want to find out what kind of security the man has working for him. Or it may have been one of his own employees who was willing to be bribed."
Zeke lay in the chair, utterly relaxed. "Everybody has his price, Lorenzo. You know that."
Lorenzo leaned back in his chair. "Of course. I became a success in business because I never accept no for an answer. What I have, I built for myself. I paid my way. I have made others wealthy along the way." He shook his head. "But there are those who are always too greedy. They want more and more. They see me and they want to have it all, all that I have worked for through the years. They think I'm getting to be an old man and that I'll be easy to replace."
He stared at Zeke. "They're wrong. They've already discovered this man is much stronger and smarter than they expected."
"What did you find out about the man you caught trespassing?"
Lorenzo shook his head, disgusted. "He knows nothing. He was hired to get inside the compound, to find out the layout. The man who paid him offered him an unheard-of amount of money to get in. This character felt like he'd been blessed by a miracle, money raining from the heavens, for what looked to be a simple job." The smile Lorenzo gave Zeke held no humor. "Now he better understands that there is always something expected for payment received."
"Do you know who's behind the break-in, the damage to the oil line, last month's explosion?"
"I was hoping you'd come up with some of those answers. That's one of the reasons I hired you."
"Everyone I've spoken, to is too scared to talk. I'll say one thing for you, Lorenzo, you make powerful enemies."
Lorenzo nodded. "It will take someone with a great deal of power to bring me down. I don't think the man exists."
Zeke reached for the bottle that sat between them and poured a splash of the imported whiskey over the ice in his glass. When he held the bottle up to Lorenzo, the older man nodded and held out his glass.
"I can't figure you out, Daniels," Lorenzo said, after taking a sip of his drink.
"What's to figure? I'm a simple man, with simple needs."
"On the contrary. You're a very complex man... a walking puzzle. You live by a tough code. You demand a great deal from yourself. You get accused of something that you didn't do and instead of fighting, you walk away."
"So you're still having me checked out, huh?"
"I'm trying to solve the puzzle. I don't like mysteries I can't solve. You showed up at my door at a very opportune time, just when I needed a man of your skills and talents the most."
Zeke propped the heel of his boot on the toe of the other. "You're saying you don't believe in coincidences?"
"You're saying that's all it was?"
"No. I was out of work. There aren't too many openings for a man of—how did you put it?—my skills and talents. Rumor had it that you might be adding men to your staff."
"How long were you out of work?"
Zeke shrugged. "A few months. I had plenty of time to think about how I wanted to handle my situation. I had several choices I could have made." He took a sip of his drink. "I finally decided that I didn't care that much about my reputation. I knew I had handled myself in a professional manner. In the long run, what others thought about me didn't matter. I have to live with myself. I don't have a problem with it."
"You could have fought them... and possibly won.''
"Ah. Now there's the big tease. What, exactly would I have won? The opportunity to continue risking my neck for an organization that turned on me at the first hint of wrongdoing? I preferred to move on. I've never found that looking backward gained me much in this world."
As Lorenzo mulled over his comments, Zeke discovered that the philosophy he'd been spouting came more from him than from the persona he had assumed for the sake of the current assignment. If the actual facts of his career were as Lorenzo had been led to believe they were, Zeke would indeed walk away from his career without a backward glance.
The revelation about himself surprised him. But upon further reflection, he discovered what he already knew to be true about himself—he offered loyalty until he discovered his loyalty was misplaced. Then it was withdrawn.
His loyalties were clear in the present instance. He wanted to put the man across from him out of business. He despised everything the man stood for. Either Lorenzo, or someone just like him, had contributed to the death of Charlie, his childhood friend.
Granted, nobody had forced Charlie to try drugs, an experiment that quickly progressed to an addiction. Charlie had changed radically and the broken man Zeke found when he came home from the air force bore little resemblance to the boy he'd grown up with. Charlie had lost his soul chasing that elusive high that would relieve him from his ever-increasing pain. Eventually he had lost his life, as well.
No. Zeke had no use for men like Lorenzo, whose greed sucked the life out of everyone around.
Now that he had gotten to know Angela, Zeke's anger had grown even colder. How could that innocent young woman have been raised by a man whose basic code of honor was so distorted by his need for power?
"So what is between you and Angela?"
If the abrupt end to the companionable silence hadn't startled Zeke, the question would have. He stared at Lorenzo, uncertain of what he had heard. "Pardon?" he asked, straightening in his chair.
"I know my niece quite well, even though I have managed to discourage her from visiting me for years. Even without knowing her well, I wouldimagine she is easy for most people to read. She wears her thoughts and her feelings on her face."
"I don't understand what that has to do with me."
Lorenzo took a sip from his glass, watching Zeke from over its rim. After he set the drink down, he said, "Angela has been unable to take her eyes off you since the two of you arrived."
Zeke didn't move a muscle. Nor did he drop his gaze from Lorenzo's intent stare. "I hadn't noticed."
Lorenzo shrugged. "Perhaps not. She has been discreet, at least." He sighed. "She is a very naive young woman, I'm afraid. Between her mother's family and me, we have sheltered her too much, perhaps. We have discussed with her the possibility of marrying, but she wanted to teach school for a while. I didn't have the heart to discourage her."
"Has she told you she wants to start a school in the village near here?" Zeke hoped Angie would forgive him for this reference to one of their late-night conversations.
"Is that what she told you?"
"She mentioned it, yes. She's been eager to come home to see if it would be possible, so that she could live here and teach nearby."
"I wonder why she never mentioned it to me?"
"Perhaps because she wasn't certain you would approve."
"How did you learn so much about my niece in just a few days?"
Zeke smiled. "We were involved in some rather unusual circumstances together, wouldn't you say? It's only natural that we would become more than just acquaintances."
"Angela is very impressionable."
"Do you think so? I found her intelligent with a definite mind of her own."
"You spent three nights with my niece."
Once again Zeke was still, waiting for the next salvo. Lorenzo was operating like a submarine destroyer, randomly dropping depth charges to see what he might hit. Each shot had been an attempt to startle Zeke into an admission of some kind. The fact that they hadn't worked didn't seem to discourage him.
"Yes," Zeke agreed.
"And after those three nights together, my niece can't seem to keep her eyes
off you."
"Do you want to state your point, Lorenzo?"
"I want to know how you feel about Angela."
Zeke rubbed his nose with his forefinger. "How I feel? Hmm. Well. I like Angie.' I enjoyed her company. I admire her in many ways."
"Did you make love to her?"
A direct hit.
Chapter 7
After a prolonged silence that neither man seemed in a hurry to break, Zeke slid back down in his chair and crossed his arms.
In a casual tone that was not reflected in his intent gaze, he finally replied.
"That's none of your business." He never lost eye contact with his adversary.
Lorenzo watched him without changing expression. "I can fire you, you know. I have never tolerated insubordination from anyone."
Zeke didn't flicker an eyelash. "That's up to you."
Lorenzo leaned forward and slapped his hand on his desk. "Dammit, I want to know if you took advantage of my niece!"
"I'm not going to discuss Angela with you. If you have any questions about my behavior while I was with her, you'll have to discuss the matter with her." He uncrossed his arms and sat up. "Is there anything else? If not, I think I'm going to hit the sack. It's been a long day."
"You'll find that your clothes have been moved."
Zeke frowned. "Where are they?"
"I decided to move you into one of the upstairs bedrooms. I want you closer to the family."
"I thought you wanted me to guard you, Lorenzo. I can do that most effectively when I'm on the ground floor."
"I have others who are doing that now. I placed them there while you were gone. Now that you are back, I prefer that you sleep closer to Angela and me."
Zeke fought for control of his emotions. He would deal with all of this later when he was alone. With a sigh to denote his utter weariness, he asked,'' So where am I sleeping now?"
"The second door on the right upstairs. You have a corner room that overlboks the compound. I'll be across the hall in the other corner bedroom. You should be able to hear me should I call."
Zeke stood. "I'll see you in the morning, then." He strode out of the office.
Other than when he was learning the layout of the household, Zeke had not been upstairs. He knew there were six large bedrooms, three on each side of the hallway. He would have expected Lorenzo to put Angela across the hall from him.
The question now was, which of the other four bedrooms was she in? The three bedrooms on each side of the house shared a balcony. If she was on his side of the hallway, that would give him access to her room.
Zeke knew a trap when he saw one. What he didn't understand was why.
❧
Angie woke up early the next morning eager to greet the day. She was home! After tossing the covers aside, she went over to the French doors and opened them, letting in the pale morning light. She walked onto the balcony and peered down at the secluded walled garden below. The only access to the garden was from the formal salon, a room seldom used.
To view the scene from her balcony catapulted her into her childhood. She remembered the days she spent playing there with her imaginary friends—reading to them, playing dolls with them. She laughed from the sheer joy of being at home again and hugged herself.
The sound of a door opening and Zeke's voice caught her attention at the same time. She turned and found him in the doorway of the connected bedroom, leaning his forearm against the doorjamb. His hair was tousled, falling over his forehead. He wore a faded pair of unbuttoned jeans, his chest and feet bare.
"It figures," he muttered, dropping his forehead against his arm.
At least that was what she thought he said. But since the words made no sense, she just smiled and said, "Good morning, Zeke. Isn't it a beautiful morning?"
At her comment he slowly raised his head and, after a brief glance at the bare expanse of leg exposed beneath her short pajamas, looked east to where the sun was only now touching the sky with color.
With his attention seemingly on the sky, Zeke drawled, "You're up early, Princess."
She danced over to him, her eyes sparkling. "I know." She placed her hand lightly on his chest, enjoying the feel of his heated skin against her palm. "I didn't know this was your bedroom."
Leisurely he turned his head until he was staring down at her. "It wasn't. Your uncle moved me in yesterday."
Startled, she asked, "But why?"
"You'll have to ask him."
She studied his face but could read nothing from his expression.
"I don't understand."
"That makes two of us."
"Why would he have you sharing a balcony with me? He's always been so strict about the rules of behavior. He's lectured me over and over about the appearance of things. And how..." She tossed her head. "It makes no sense."
"Unless he's decided that it's already too late to protect you or your reputation. After all, you did spend three nights with me."
"That was no one's fault. Surely he isn't blaming you for—" She seemed to run out of words.
"I don't think blame is the word. He may be holding me accountable."
"Well, I shall tell him—" Her eyes widened as he suddenly clamped her hand beneath his, pinning it to his chest. "Zeke, let go of my hand. I need to get dressed and—"
"You should have thought of that sooner, Princess, before you found so much pleasure in rubbing your hand all over my chest." He continued to lean his forearm against the doorjambAvhile he pulled her with his other arm until she fell against him.
She chuckled, pushing away slightly so that she could see his face. "Zeke," she chided with a hint of breathlessness. "Be careful. Someone may see us."
"Let them," he muttered, hauling her securely against him with both arms and holding her. The woman was flat out driving him insane in those skimpy pajamas, her hair a tumbled mess, her eyes flashing intimate messages while her hand left paths of fire wherever she touched him.
He was a man, dammit, not a machine. He wasn't immune to her charms. On the contrary, their night together had made him ache for her, increasing his desire rather than appeasing it.
As soon as his mouth covered hers, she melted against him like molten lava, her curves fitting to his, her arms snaking around his waist.
This was the reason he hadn't been able to sleep well the night before. He'd known she was sleeping somewhere nearby. He could almost sense her presence. He couldn't seem to get enough of her, even now when he held her snug against him.
With a muffled oath, he swooped her up and hauled her into his room, nudging the door to the balcony closed behind them with his foot. They were in bed in a few quick strides.
Angie was as aroused as he. With trembling fingers she jerked her pajama top over her head, then stuck her thumbs into the waistband of the shorts and slid them off, leaving her bare as she knelt before him. Zeke unzipped his jeans, peeling them off without taking his eyes from her.
When they reached out to each other there was almost an audible sound of combustion. Their hands and mouths were touching and tasting, stroking and caressing, feverishly grasping each other. They fell back onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, seeking relief from this hot desire that had exploded between them. Whimpering from need, Angie pulled him to her. He lifted her hips and lowered his head, kissing her until she cried out. Then in one surge of male domination he claimed her, filling her while at the same time he covered her mouth with his own.
He kept the pace at fever pitch—never slackening—even when he felt her arch beneath him. Her trembling increased into convulsive spasms that began to squeeze him in a relentless rhythm he couldn't resist. He lost control, filling her with his seed. His unprotected seed.
The lack of protection only occurred to Zeke long minutes later when he was sprawled out beside her, too limp to move. He'd been too inflamed with his need for her... in his frenzy to claim her he had forgotten to consider any consequences.
He'd totally lost his mind. There was no
doubt about that any longer. He was now certifiably insane. How could he have-She stirred, leaning over him, kissing his nipples with a feathery touch.
He groaned.
Whatever she thought she could stir up at this stage, she was wrong. There was no way his satiated body could respond. He had exhausted himself.. .totally and completely. Her kisses trailed downward until she touched him intimately. Maybe not completely.
How could he be responding, when his arms, his legs—hell! the entire rest of his anatomy! —seemed to have the muscle power of overcooked spaghetti?
He gave up wondering and closed his eyes, drowning in the pleasurable sensations she evoked.
After she performed a miracle that had Zeke gasping, she moved over his inert body, placing her knees at either side of his waist, and lowered herself until she surrounded and enfolded him in her fiery Warmth.
Her movements were delicate and gentle all the while she brushed light kisses across his face and neck. With an enticingly deliberate movement, she came up on her knees, then slowly lowered herself, setting a rocking rhythm that was rapidly building tension throughout his body.
He opened his eyes and stared up at her. She wore a dreamy expression that touched his heart. "Oh, Princess, I'm not believing this," he whispered.
"Just relax and let me love you," she whispered back.
He would have laughed if he'd had the strength. "Relaxing is beyond my capabilities at the moment. What you're doing to me should be outlawed, it feels so good."
"I want to give you pleasure," she murmured. "You have taught me so much. I can never repay you."
He grasped her waist, pulling her down so that her breasts were there in front of his face. He began to tease her with his tongue and mouth, touching and tugging until her breathing became ragged.
Zeke took over the rhythm, guiding her faster against him until she gasped out her release at the same time he felt his. This time she collapsed against him and lay on top of him, unmoving. He didn't have the energy or the strength to move her. They fell asleep in that position.
Zeke Page 8
