by Tara Quan
How could she have been ignorant of his injury until now? “You got the cuts from when you pushed me down, didn’t you?”
Moving as though he felt no pain at all, he ruffled her hair. “Don’t sound so damn guilty. I got you into this mess in the first place, remember? By the way, I’m sorry.”
She turned and stared at his face. “For what?”
“Where do I start?” His lips firmed into a hard line. “For getting you involved? For not thinking to route your Internet activity through a virtual private network. If I had to guess, when you accessed the financial records of that company in Dubai, it set off an alarm. They must have connected the dots between us from there.”
“Who’s ‘they’?”
Before he could answer, the train pulled into the next stop. Following him, she exited the car and sprinted across the platform with her head down. A few minutes later, they got onto an Orange Line train heading back toward the city.
Seated next to him, she repeated her question. “Who were those men, Zack?”
He leaned back in his seat and closed his fingers over her clasped hands. She hadn’t noticed they still shook. “A private security firm specializing in government contracts—also known as mercenaries. They’ve been after me for months. Pretty sure this Simelach guy hired them.”
And now they were after her. She should be mad at him. She had every right to be furious. But of all the emotions warring within, anger wasn’t one of them. “You warned me several minutes before they showed up. How did you know…?”
He tapped his messenger bag. “I figured out a way to listen in on their super-encrypted communications devices. When they’re in range of my receiver, I can hear them talking. It only gives me a few minutes’ head start, but that’s enough to get the hell out of Dodge.”
He reached his free arm around her and pressed his palm against the side of her face. Responding to his gentle push, she rested her head on his shoulder. “Then you must have already been outside my apartment. Were you there all night? Why didn’t you come up? I could have let you in.”
He turned, his lips grazing her forehead. “The whole point of me being there was to make sure you had an escape route. I couldn’t very well do that from inside your place.”
She closed her eyes. “Why on earth did you pick that little Mini Cooper?” Considering the length of his legs and arms, it couldn’t have been comfortable.
His breath grazed her hair. “It was the only available Zip car in the area that wasn’t already booked. I made a proximity card that gives me access to all their vehicles, but red flags go off if someone makes a reservation and doesn’t find their ride.”
Pointing out the illegality of this act seemed a moot point. “I always wanted to drive a Mini Cooper.”
He pressed his chin onto her head. “I remember. By the way, I wasn’t done apologizing.”
She nuzzled his T-shirt. “Don’t worry. You’ll get your chance to grovel. Save it for later though. I’m too sleepy to fully appreciate your efforts.”
His chuckle wasn’t audible, but the vibration from his chest tickled her cheek. “Thanks for not giving me a hard time. Since there are no cameras in the cars, we’re going to chill out here for a while. Then we’ll switch trains a few more times before getting out. You can take a catnap if you’d like.”
If her eyes weren’t shut, she would have rolled them. “No one could sleep after what just happened.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“Conserving my energy.” She lifted her head and looked at him. “So you were physically and electronically spying on me?”
His cheeks colored. He was one of the few guys she knew who could still blush. “What are my chances with the exigent circumstances defense?”
“Pretty good. You could have at least told me you were watching from outside, even if you didn’t want to come in.”
He scratched the back of his head. “The webcam thing was bad enough. I didn’t want to come off as a creep.”
She knew when to push an advantage. “So you admit it’s creepy?”
“No.” When she scowled, he released her hands and gave them a placating pat. “Just that it might seem that way.”
“I wonder why,” she grumbled. “But since you probably saved my life, I’ll let it slide.”
He cleared his throat. “While we’re here, would you mind clarifying one minor detail?”
“Okay.” She waited.
His expression turned suddenly somber. “Who’s this Dan character, and why does Facebook say you two are engaged?”
Chapter Four
As they passed another Metro stop, Zack tried to get into a better mood. He liked to think of himself as an easygoing guy. The words chill and mellow could be used to describe his general state even after a government-wide cyber-conspiracy led to the sudden death of a good friend. For God’s sake, he’d kept his cool throughout a cross-country manhunt that drove him to Washington, D.C.
So the inexplicable and overwhelming annoyance that overcame him the moment Maya e-mailed this mythical Daniyal Khan pictures of herself bothered him. He shouldn’t have reacted to it at all. Having taught her the trick in college, he knew the images contained an encrypted message and mountains of data. The sane reaction would have been to applaud her smarts, not wonder why she couldn’t have sent the guy pictures of cute kittens instead.
“That’s weird.” Maya frowned. “I thought I set my Facebook privacy settings so that my relationship status is visible only to family members.”
Noting she hadn’t denied the engagement, his visceral and unwarranted hatred of a man he’d never met intensified. Dan Khan had been in those photos she’d sent. In three of the six pictures, his arm had been around her shoulders, his hand touching her bare skin. The recollection gave Zack the urge to punch something.
“Are you sure?” He cleared his throat when the question too closely resembled a growl. “Facebook can be pretty tricky—”
Her eyes narrowed. “Dan set it up, and, as I’ve mentioned, he’s basically an older and more sophisticated version of you.”
So the man was good-looking, rich, and smart—that didn’t seem plausible. “I’m sophisticated.” He hoped he didn’t sound as uncertain as he felt.
She directed her gaze at the T-shirt he’d changed into last night and cocked an eyebrow. “You have an alien robot on your chest. Its speech bubble says ‘PWN’d.’”
Good point. “I had to pack light. I totally own a suit.” A being the operative word.
Her expression reminded him of Hermione Granger from the Harry Potter movies. “Dan has a walk-in closet full of them, along with matching shirts and ties.”
He let out a relieved breath. “So he’s gay?”
She punched his chest. “Don’t be an idiot. A man’s use of cufflinks is not an indication of sexual orientation.”
He massaged the spot. That little fist of hers packed quite a wallop. “What dude uses cufflinks in this day and age?”
She rolled her eyes. She seemed to do a lot of that around him. “The ones who read GQ.”
“They actually exist?” He’d always thought the Gentlemen’s Quarterly magazine was secretly targeted toward women.
Her lips quivered. He glimpsed her smile as she looked down. “So you hacked my Facebook account, too?”
He shook his head. “Of course not.” Dan Khan’s was another story.
The dimples on her cheeks made it clear she enjoyed his discomfort. “Why do you care what my relationship status is?”
A damn good question—one he wasn’t ready to answer. “Just curious.”
“Sure.” She looked straight at him. “And if I told you Dan and I are engaged?”
The words scraped his throat as he spat them out. “I’d say ‘congratulations’ and ask you about your dress.”
Her brows drew even closer together. “You’re lying.” She sounded surprised, but scarily certain. “Why did you just lie?”
Even though he
sat on the aisle seat, he felt cornered. “I’m not—”
“You did it again. Stop it. You get this weird squint at the corner of your left eye.”
He lifted his hand to touch the spot. “I do? Since when?”
She snorted. “Since always. Fine, I’ll let it go for now. And, no, I’m not actually engaged.”
A crushing weight lifted off his shoulders. “Really?”
She crossed her arms. “Unlike someone I know, I don’t make a habit of lying. Dan and I are fifth cousins.”
It was his turn to frown. “Are you still considered blood relations when you’re that far apart on the family tree?”
“When you’re desi, yes. Our mothers took one look at us standing next to each other at a mutual relation’s wedding and started scheming our match.”
His relief dissipated. “I thought he was your cousin.”
She waved a hand in the air. “Punjabis marry distant cousins all the time, I have no idea why. Anyway, after I stayed at his place for a vacation in Dubai, our families started dropping e-mail hints. We changed our relationship status as a joke.”
His brain fixated on a single detail. “You stayed at this guy’s place? Alone?”
She lifted her chin, as if in challenge. “I slept over at your dorm more times than I can count. We’re still just friends.”
He licked his suddenly parched lips. Toward the end of those two years, as his roller coaster relationship with Veronica limped along on its last legs, his thoughts while watching Maya sleep hadn’t been exactly platonic. “That was different.”
One corner of her mouth quirked up. The twinkle in her dark brown eyes wreaked havoc on his nerves. “I guess—Dan has a five bedroom penthouse with an ocean view. You offered me a sleeping bag and let me crash on your floor.”
“I did give you the option of switching places, but you insisted the bag was more comfortable.” He massaged his jaw. Who knew he was a teeth-grinder? “Anyway, so you’re like—involved, but not engaged?” An uninformed eavesdropper might describe his tone as surly.
A wide smile spread across her face. “You’re jealous.”
He shook his head. “Absolutely not.”
Tapping his temple, she shook her head. “There’s that squint again.”
“You’re making it up.”
“I guess I’ll have to record you one day.” Batting her long lashes, she sent him a regal nod. “I should drag this out, but I’m feeling magnanimous.”
He waited. After an eternity of silence, he ground out, “I thought you weren’t going to drag this out.”
After breathing on her fingernails, she polished them off with the bottom hem of her borrowed sweatshirt. “But it’s so much fun.”
“Maya, I swear to God. If you keep this up, I’ll—” Not knowing how he’d meant to finish the sentence, he puffed out his chest and let his voice trail off.
But they knew each other too well for the trick to work. She continued to stare at him, her face a poor example feigned innocence. “You’ll what?”
He glared at her. The retort tumbled out before he could stop himself. “I’ll kiss you.”
The train pulled to a stop. A few passengers got on and off. Their gazes remained locked until the car started moving again, the sound of wheels scraping against metal tracks giving their conversation a semblance of privacy.
She licked her lips, the split-second motion impeding his brain function. “What kind of kiss?”
Not a response he would have predicted. “Umm….”
“A kiss that means nothing? Just a threat you’re carrying out?” she prompted.
“Sure,” he answered while shaking his head.
The cheeks he very much wanted to pinch dimpled. “Which one is it?”
His throat closed up. “I don’t know.”
She seemed on the verge of saying something, but then she shook her head and shrugged. “Dan and I are friends, and not the kissing kind. I asked him for help because he has lots of contacts in Dubai, and he’s a whiz with computers. Any other questions?”
Sagging in his seat with relief, he rolled his knotted shoulders. Though five years on the sunny West Coast had cured him of both his college-age flabbiness and vampiric skin tone, he was self-aware enough to admit he resembled a gangly, towering oaf when compared to the Indian Adonis. “Do you think he’ll come through?”
“He always does.”
The words stung, but he didn’t know why until she reached over and squeezed his hand. “You always come through, too.”
Turning his wrist, he took hold of her dainty fingers. “I almost got you shot. I’m pretty sure you’re now wanted for questioning by the FBI.”
“I’m okay with that.” Her smile didn’t falter.
His hand tightened. “You shouldn’t be.”
“I’m a big girl.” She huffed out a breath. “Helping you was my call.”
Forgiveness didn’t bring him the absolution it should have. Mesmerized by her eyes, he found himself curving his back. His torso shifted forward, bringing his lips closer to hers. Her mouth parted as if in invitation, her gaze steady and unsettlingly certain. As if they had a mind of their own, his palms trailed up her arms to cup her shoulders. He could feel her breath against his chin, his thoughts impeded by the alluring scent of citrus and sweat. The intoxicating blend hazed his vision, covering it in a light blur that made her face the only clear object he could see.
An announcement blasted over the speakers: “Next stop, Metro Center. I repeat, next stop, Metro Center. Change here for the Red Line.”
His spine snapped straight. What the hell had just happened?
She sighed. “I’m guessing this is us?”
They could have stayed on the train, but getting on their feet and moving about seemed of utmost importance. “Yup. This is the busiest station, right?” He stood and helped her into the aisle. She wobbled before standing straight. Guilt and concern warred with practicality. “You’re dead on your feet. Why don’t we—”
She laughed. “I’ve had less sleep during finals. I’ll be fine. Besides, this day can’t possibly get any worse.”
***
“Fuck.” Zack swore as dark gray clouds unleashed a torrential downpour. They were on the Key Bridge, crossing from Northern Virginia to Washington, D.C. After having taken advantage of almost every means of public transport, to include the Capital Bike Share, they weren’t far from where they’d started this journey. Covering the last leg of the roundabout trip on foot ensured their safety, and, as his deplorable luck would have it, might result in pneumonia.
Maya walked next him, her shoulders slumped and her feet dragging. It didn’t take long for the steady rain to plaster her hair and sweatshirt to her body. Thank God, the top reached past her pert little butt. Considering the drenched condition of his own T-shirt and jeans, he was pretty sure her thin pajama shorts were now see-through.
The dark circles under her eyes were far more visible now than they’d been on the train two hours ago, and she hadn’t spoken a word in the past five minutes. He’d known her long enough to tell when her proverbial battery blinked red. “I’ll flag a cab.”
She glared daggers at him as she pointed at the bumper-to-bumper traffic. “It’s after nine on a Saturday. You’re not going to get a cab anywhere in the vicinity of Georgetown.” Pulling the sweatshirt hood over her already wet hair, she marched forward. “Wherever we’re going, we’d better be almost there.”
With her strides so short, it took him two steps to catch up. “Want a piggyback ride?”
“No.” Her response sounded like a growl.
He overtook her and stood in her path. “You’re limping.”
She pointed at her bare toes. “I have multiple blisters, and I twisted my ankle getting off the damn bike. I told you riding without helmets was a bad idea.”
“Your foot got hurt, not your head. And why didn’t you wear sneakers?” Probably not the smartest response, considering the circumstances leading up t
o this moment.
She fisted her hands on her hips as she continued forward. “There was no time to tie the laces, and you didn’t tell me we’d be taking a scenic tour of three different states.”
Since she seemed unfazed by the prospect of ramming him, he started walking backward. “D.C. isn’t technically a state.”
“Tell that to my legs.” She kicked a puddle and sent water spraying over his jeans. Already soaked through, the additional wetness didn’t really matter. At least the temperature remained in the upper 70s.
He lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Look. I know you’re tired and hungry. I swear we’ll fix that in about fifteen minutes.”
When she didn’t stop walking, he grabbed her waist. “Stop throwing a tantrum and let me help.”
Her eyes narrowed before her muscles relaxed against his fingers. Maya had a short fuse when her blood sugar dropped below optimum levels, or when she didn’t get her eight hours of beauty sleep, but her self-awareness made it easy to calm her down. “I’m sorry. I’m just hungry.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “I know. You didn’t used to apologize this quickly.”
“I’ve grown up.” Her face scrunched into a mock pout. “I’m even over the legal drinking age now.”
He tried not to focus on the droplets of water trailing down her bare legs. “I would offer to carry you cheesy RomCom style, but my biceps aren’t as strong as my lats.”
Her lips curving, she playfully squeezed his upper arm. Her eyebrows lifted when she pressed down on hard muscle. He didn’t bother resisting the urge to preen. “Since when do you use bodybuilder jargon?”
“Since when do you work out?” He couldn’t help but notice the toned shape of her legs.
To his surprise, she shifted one leg behind the other, her expression almost shy. “I didn’t have much of an excuse with a gym next to my apartment. Besides, have you seen all the women in my neighborhood?”
He had noticed a high density of chicks running around in yoga pants and sports bras, many of whom had infants strapped to their chests. Arlington and San Francisco seemed to have quite a bit in common. “I guess we’re both susceptible to peer pressure. Now that we’ve established my physical fitness, why don’t you hop on my back?”
