The Manhattan Encounter

by Addison Fox

  But staring at Isabella Magnini, that long mane of hair wild about her face and her slender shoulders wrapped in an oversize gray sweater, he knew his world had changed.

  “I want to help you find them.”

  * * *

  Isabella stuffed the large hard drive into her bag and pulled tight on the zipper. Her eyes had nearly crossed at all the reams of data they’d reviewed but she thought she’d captured the pieces they’d need to now run everything through Campbell’s databases back at the House of Steele headquarters.

  What was far harder to organize were her wayward thoughts about Liam.

  She knew he’d been warming up to her over the last few days, both in what he said and even more in what he didn’t. But in the past few hours she’d felt a real change.

  Like the sands-shifting-beneath-her-feet sort of change.

  Grateful for a private moment, she watched him as he moved around the lab, righting the various drawers they’d sifted through and stowing several reference manuals she’d pulled out while running Daniel’s labs. His movements were brisk—efficient—but none of it could hide the ripple of muscle across his back as he reached for an overhead cabinet or the slender taper of his waist where his shirt tucked into his slacks.

  The man was devastating.

  And now that he was truly her ally, that fact was only more dangerous.

  When Isabella looked at him now, she saw a partner. One who was in this, not because he felt he needed to be, but because he wanted to be. And she was humbled to realize how impactful that small shift really was.

  He lifted their coats and held hers out. “You ready to go?”

  “I suppose we should. I’ve downloaded as much as I can, but there’s still a boatload sitting on the server.”

  “You got all the reports that show the corrected abnormalities. That’s what we need the most. Campbell can overlay a few programs on it to run the other gene sequences to confirm the source DNA is all the same.”

  “Is there anything he doesn’t know how to do?”

  Liam stilled in the process of reaching for her bag. “Are my siblings giving off some sort of superhero pheromone?”

  Whether it was the subtle indignation that filled those gorgeous blue eyes of his or the very real disgust she heard in his tone, she didn’t know, but Isabella couldn’t hold back the laugh. “Superhero?”

  “First my sister is perfect this morning. Now my brother is a computer genius.”

  “Isn’t he?”

  “Well—”

  Her laughter faded. “You don’t like being bested by them, do you?”

  “Hell no. And I refuse to apologize for that.”

  “I’m not asking you to, but it galls you to think they’ve got some skills you don’t.”

  “I’m not that bad.”

  She shot him a dark gaze, her hands falling to her hips. “Seriously?”

  “It’s just...I’m...”

  “You’re what?”

  The small “O” that formed his lips snapped closed. “Nothing.”

  “Come on, it’s something. And you know I’m curious enough not to leave this alone.”

  “I’m the big brother.”

  “Of a quartet of grown adults.”

  “I’m still the oldest.” Her laughter faded altogether in the face of his obvious discomfort but before she could say anything, he pressed on. “I don’t begrudge them their talents. Hell, I’m prouder than anyone of Campbell, Kenzi and Ro. But they’re mine. I’m supposed to take care of them.”

  “I think they feel the same way about you.”

  “There’s no need. I know how to take care of myself.”

  Wherever she’d thought their conversation would go, this raw, exposed nerve wasn’t it. “Is that why you stay distant? Stay away?”

  The broad shoulders she’d admired a few moments before stiffened at the verbal assault and a very real struggle played across his face. Where she’d originally thought him harsh and, at best, indifferent, in his efforts to explain himself she saw something very different.

  Fear.

  “I don’t stay away on purpose. I have work. We all do.”

  “Are you sure that’s the reason?”

  “Of course. But—” He reined in the snappish tone. “But I worry about them. Every day. And I know they’re fine. I know they can take care of themselves, but staying away’s easier somehow.”

  “Is it so bad to let them know you love them?”

  “Of course not.” Liam stilled, his gaze roaming the lab.

  Where the abrupt change might have been aversion in another, Isabella keyed into his rapid—and sudden—change in demeanor. “What is it?”

  “Do you smell something?”

  “Other than the lovely, always-present scent of formaldehyde and cleaning fluid that permeates the lab?”

  “No, I meant—”

  Liam’s words faded to nothing as the glass door of the lab exploded inward, flames filling the hall outside the door.

  * * *

  Liam leaped on Isabella, tackling her to the ground. Her large bag slammed against his hip with a painful thud but he ignored it over the sudden wash of smoke that filled the air above them.

  “We need another door!” He hollered the words over the all-consuming sound of the fire.

  “There is no other door. The fire exit’s outside in the hallway.”

  “There’s no other way out of here?”

  She coughed and shook her head, her eyes watering at the immediate threat from outside. “No.”

  “Get to the faucet. We need to get everything wet.” He reached for the thin shirt she’d layered underneath her blazer. “Pull this up over your nose and mouth.”

  They belly-crawled across the floor and about halfway there Isabella calmed enough to assess what was going on. She screamed his name over the noise and confusion of the fire. “Go to the wall. We’ve got fire extinguishers.” She pointed through the smoke and he nodded to show that he understood.

  The heavy extinguishers sat propped on the wall, a list of instructions behind them. He dragged the largest one from its holder, his gaze scanning the instructions for proof this kind would work on all types of fires. At the confirmation it could handle anything, he pulled hard to dislodge the large spray nozzle from its holder.

  “Keep your nose and mouth covered. I need you to take your bag and keep your coat over your head to protect you from the flames.”

  “What about you?”

  He glanced down at his shirt and knew she had a point. No matter how clean a path he cleared with the extinguisher, the flames were too high to avoid getting burned.

  “Here!” She threw his coat over his head, fluffing the material so it rested over his shoulder like a shawl.

  “Isabella! Come on, we need to get going.”

  She nodded to indicate she understood, then followed him to the door.

  Heat like he’d never felt before filled the space, swimming in front of his eyes like a mirage. He started the extinguisher, the heavy foam spraying in the air in a heavy mist of white. Liam glanced over his shoulder, pleased to see Isabella had done as he asked. Her coat was affixed above her head as she followed close on his heels.

  The heat was overwhelming, the thin material of his shirt tighter than a second skin as sweat ran freely down his back.

  “Grab onto my waistband!”

  Step by aching step, they moved down the engulfed hallway. A heavy door at the far end indicated safety and it was his only focus as they moved closer to it, inch by careful inch. Liam maintained a steady spray of foam, crossing in a large arc—back and forth, back and forth—and forced his gaze on their forward progress instead of on the hypnotic dance of flames that surrounded them.

&nbs
p; The posters that lined the walls had long-since turned to ash in the flames and even with his laser focus on keeping them safe he couldn’t deny the horrified fascination as the fire ate up everything in its path. Curtains. Wood railings. Plants.

  All of it incinerated in the blaze.

  The heat increased and he wanted nothing more than to reach behind to take the steady hand at his waist, but Liam kept on, arcing the retardant from the extinguisher in a steady wash. It wasn’t nearly enough to stop the blaze, but it did give them just enough room to maneuver to the end of the hall.

  As they reached the door, he nearly had his hand out to take the handle when Isabella’s scream echoed over the blaze. “No!”

  He watched as she stepped around him, her hand wrapped in the arm of her coat pocket as she pressed down on the flat handle of the door.

  Of course. The heat of the metal door would have burned clean through his palm.

  The solid door was hot enough to burn his fingertips as he held it with his free hand and tossed the extinguisher with the other. He stumbled through the entrance and imagined the heat and flames following them, but it was only once the door slammed close behind them that a blessed silence filled the space.

  “Are you hurt?” The edges of her coat flapped around her face—black from the flames and smoke—and he dragged it away from those delicate features.

  “I’m fine. Come on, we have to keep moving.”

  He took quick stock of their bodies, satisfied when he saw no smoldering embers flaring to life off their clothes. Heavy black stains ran down the arms of his white dress shirt but that was the extent of the damage—no fire had broken through to skin.

  They ran down the three flights of stairs to the ground, the heavy whirl of fire trucks already lighting up the air.

  Building alarms rang out as they pushed through the heavy fire door but Liam ignored the thick, bleating sound. All he could focus on was Isabella and the fact that they were safe.

  In the swell of both siren and flame, he grabbed her hand and ran toward the fresh air.

  * * *

  “Preliminary reports indicate the fire was set.” Kensington placed a fresh cup of tea in front of Isabella before sitting with her own.

  After spending most of the day with the police, Isabella and Liam were now safely ensconced back at the House of Steele headquarters. Daylight had long since faded to black, the city’s streetlights sheening the living-room windows in a fluorescent glare. Isabella abstractly saw it—just like she kept keying in and out on Liam’s family—but couldn’t make sense of any of it.

  No matter how many times she told herself she was safe, she couldn’t shake the horrible cold that had gripped her insides with sharp claws.

  Someone had deliberately set fire to her lab. With her and Liam in it. Whatever she’d wanted to believe up to now, today had confirmed the harsh truth.

  This was personal.

  No longer could she take a strange sort of solace in a nameless, faceless threat that wanted her research. A cold, governmental entity out for its own gains or a third-world dictator who thought her work was the key to advancing his goals.

  In a strange, horrifying way, this was much worse. Someone was after her. And if Liam’s suspicions were correct, it was someone she knew and cared about.

  “Isabella?” Abby’s voice was tender as it broke into her thoughts.

  “Yes?”

  “Do you want to go upstairs?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “Come on.” Gentle hands reached for hers, pulling her up from the chair. Her gaze alighted on Liam’s but that bleak blue gaze—bloodshot now from the smoke—gave nothing away.

  Isabella nodded, then gripped Abby’s hands as the woman pulled her toward the door. They walked up the two flights of stairs to the floor she was staying on and, like a small child, allowed Abby to lead her into the room. Abby settled her on the bed, then flipped on a small bedside light. “Come on. It’s all right.”

  Isabella hadn’t cried since they’d returned to the old brownstone—hadn’t even felt the telltale signs—but Abby’s gentle smile when she joined her on the bed was her undoing.

  Unbidden, a hard sob broke through Isabella’s chest, exhaling in a hard wash of hot tears.

  “Oh oh.” Abby pulled her close, her arms tight. Protective. “Shhh. You’re safe now. You’re safe.”

  Isabella clung to the woman who was practically a stranger, yet in that moment the closest thing she had to a friend. She tried to apologize through the sobs but nothing came out but heavy, tear-filled breaths.

  She tried once more to apologize when a large figure filled the doorway. Abby’s arms fell away, only to be replaced by the hard lines of Liam’s body. “Shhh now. It’s all right.”

  Liam’s arms slid around her and he pulled her close. Abstractly, she heard the door click closed but the sound was forgotten in the gentle cadence of Liam’s voice, the soothing press of his hands over her back.

  He’d showered when they got back to the house but she could still smell the light stench of smoke on him. Heard it in the rough rasp of his vocal chords when he spoke.

  “I’m so sorry.” The words snuck out, the gravelly thickness that tinged her own voice foreign in her ears. “So sorry for what I’ve brought to your door.”

  “Stop it.” Liam lifted his head and held her shoulders in a firm grip. “Stop. We’re in this together. Whatever else you may think, know this.”

  “But it’s too much. Too dangerous.”

  His gaze never left hers, unwavering and true. “We’re in this together. And we’re going to get to the bottom of things. And you’re going to be fine.”

  “But—”

  His eyes searched her face as if looking for something. She saw the question—knew what he asked before he said a word—before she saw something else.

  Acquiescence.

  On a hard sigh, he dragged her against his chest, his arms wrapping tight around her. Where the feeling should have been oppressive, especially after escaping from a building with too-little air, it was heavenly. Safe.

  Demanding.

  His mouth came down on hers and he slid his tongue through her lips.

  And as hers slid out to mate with Liam’s, Isabella surrendered.

  Chapter 13

  Liam cursed himself a fool and a lecher—knew in this moment Isabella needed comfort, not sex—but he couldn’t seem to stop himself from kissing her. From this manic desire to have his hands on her as he branded her with his body.

  She’d nearly died today.

  They both had, yet all he could think was the same litany over and over.

  Isabella had nearly died today.

  The storm swirled in his blood, a demanding force that kept him in the moment, swamping him with wave after wave of need. Isabella was vulnerable and she needed him.

  She didn’t need his raging hormones taking advantage of her moment of weakness.

  Besides, his family was right downstairs and if neither he nor Isabella returned in a decent amount of time, they’d know what was going on.

  “Liam?”

  “Hmmm?” He skimmed his lips along her jaw, unwilling to relinquish contact while he debated with the devil on his shoulder.

  “You were here and then you left.”

  “What?” He lifted his head and gazed down at her. A stab pierced his heart at the red, glassy sheen that filled her eyes, a lingering aftereffect of the smoke.

  Was he honestly thinking of a way to have sex with her? Now?

  He shifted on the bed, putting some distance between them. “I’m right here.”

  “No, I mean you left. In your mind. One moment you were here and then you vanished.”

  “I can promise you, I’m right here.” />
  She reached for his hand—clutched it like a lifeline—and pressed her point. “No, you’re not. I’d like an explanation.”

  The moment was direct and real and entirely Isabella and he couldn’t hold back a small smile. “I was letting my head get in the way.”

  “Isn’t this the one time you’re not supposed to think? Isn’t sex supposed to be freeing?”

  “Easier said than done.” Her gaze dropped at his muttered words and he knew immediately that he’d mis-stepped. “Not because of you.”

  “Why then?”

  “I haven’t tried to sneak sex under the same roof where my sister was since I was eighteen.”

  “You don’t want to make love to me because your sister’s here?”

  “And my brother and my sister-in-law. All eyes are on us, as it were.”

  “I doubt they care.”

  “I care.”

  “I understand.” She shifted, putting some more distance between them on the bed. “Wrong place. Wrong time. Wrong girl.”

  He saw her withdrawal—would have to be blind to miss it—and tried to make her understand. With tender moves, he reached out and twisted a long lock of her hair around his finger, the silky strands feather-light against his skin. “I’d say you’re absolutely the right girl. None of it changes the fact you deserve something better than a house full of people aware of our quiet moments together.”

  “Which only proves my point from earlier.”

  He faltered for a moment, those silky strands falling through his fingers. “What point?”

  “Your family. They matter to you.”

  “Of course they do.”

  “You’re used to hiding your choices from them. Hiding your life.”

  “I don’t do that.” Before the words had even left his lips, his conscience was rising up, taunting him, branding him as a liar.

  “Yes, you do.” She stood, her arms crossing over her chest. He didn’t need the body language to know she had effectively ended their quiet moments together, but it certainly accentuated her point. “You should go.”

  “You’re upset.”