by Ravenna Tate
Who are you kidding? This is Blaine Parker. Making eye contact is an invitation as far as he’s concerned.
Which brought her full circle again. Why was she doing this? Raging hormones? Rabid curiosity? A morbid desire to see exactly how much he’d beg her to bend the rules for him? It was intoxicating to have that kind of power over one of the infamous Weathermen. Now if only she could keep her lust at bay, this evening might turn out all right.
The downstairs buzzer sounded at five to six, and Colleen pushed the button to tell Blaine she’d be down in a moment. No way was he coming up here. Her willpower wasn’t that solid.
He was dressed in casual slacks and a very expensive shirt. The sports jacket was dressy enough that he didn’t look too informal, but not so stiff that she wanted to ask to him to wait while she changed into a cocktail dress.
His gazed traveled over her slowly, sending unwanted shivers down her spine. “You look wonderful.”
So do you. “Thank you. Where are we going?”
“Tiffani’s. Do you know it?”
“Yes.” She knew it. It was one of those super expensive, super trendy places where people went to be seen.
He frowned. “Uh-oh. Not a fan?”
“I don’t eat there very often.”
“We can go somewhere else.”
“Tell me first why you want to eat there.” If this was a ploy to be photographed with her, she’d be very disappointed.
“They have the most delicious swordfish I’ve ever tasted. I haven’t found another restaurant in any city that makes it the same way.”
She couldn’t suppress a smile in time as relief flooded through her. “Does that mean you’re not going there to be photographed having dinner with me?”
He gave her an intense stare that threw her off balance for a few seconds. “Colleen, no matter where we go, we’ll be seen and photographed. So unless you want to go back to my apartment, where I’ll have my chef whip us up anything you’d like for dinner, we might as well eat somewhere that has excellent food and wine.”
He had a point. If one of the Weathermen so much as went to the store for bread, it made the tabloids. “Do they still have those wheat pasta shells, stuffed with cheese and pine nuts?”
He held out his arm. “They sure do.”
She hesitated for a second, then took his arm. Touching him now had the same effect that shaking his hand a few days ago had produced. A tiny tingle went straight up her limb. Maybe she needed to see a doctor?
Maybe you should relax and enjoy yourself?
“How is work?” he asked. “Still backed up on permits?”
“You’re not very subtle.”
He laughed softly. “What else should we talk about to break the ice? It’s all we have in common, at least as far as we know.”
He winked at her, but she averted her gaze before he had a chance to gauge her reaction. It took all of her willpower not to smile at the gesture. There was something so sexy and intimate about a man winking.
“All right. That’s true, I suppose. Work is crazy, and it will be for at least a decade. We have to get survey teams up there, try to figure out where the boundaries are, assemble the information pouring in from all over the country. People wanting to know if their homes are still there—”
“Oh come on,” he said, cutting her off. “No one’s home is left.”
“I know that, but they don’t. Not everyone has been paying as close attention to the storms as you and your friends.”
“They must not have been paying attention at all if they don’t realize the surface is wiped clean.”
She decided to ignore that for now and return to the subject they were discussing.
“We’re dealing with special interest groups and companies like yours, who think getting businesses up and running again is more important than people rebuilding their homes. There are no roads, no utility cables that weren’t buried, a few satellite linkups still, but no servers to connect what is operational up there. No police force, no communication towers, no—”
He cut her off again. “And that’s exactly my point. That’s why—”
“Blaine, I do understand your point.” She stopped walking and faced him. “I never meant to give you the impression I don’t. But do you see my dilemma here? You’re not the only owner of a business who believes their service is more important than anyone else’s. If we let one person circumvent the rules, the backlash would bury us in paperwork for the rest of our lives.”
“My business is more important. Without the means to communicate, all the others might as well exist on islands.”
“So, are you telling me that getting the cable and radio stations back online is more vital to man’s existence on the surface than, say, getting roads in place so a functioning hospital can be built? Or constructing a police station, and getting the electricity up and running for both those institutions?”
“You’re twisting my words.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I own that land.”
This man was adorable when he argued. “I don’t disagree. You do own the land, hands down. That’s not the point.”
“I can’t run effective communications on that many acres with only one tower.”
She released his arm and placed her hands on either side of his face, which made her want to kiss him in the worst way. “Blaine, apply for the permits and make a case for your exception in the comments. There’s a place to do that. Have you actually looked at the application process?”
“No.”
She released his face and laughed, because if she didn’t do both, she was definitely going to kiss him. “Do that first. Then we’ll talk about your specific needs.” The man was infuriating, but she understood the dedication to his company. She admired that about him. He hadn’t inherited his wealth or his business, like a few of the Weathermen had done. He’d worked his ass off to make Clear Channel Industries number one.
They walked along in silence, and Colleen missed having her hand around his arm, but didn’t want to be the one who initiated contact again. She sneaked a quick glance at his face. He didn’t look angry, only deep in thought.
She let a few minutes of silence go by, and was about to ask a question when he spoke first. “Do you have family underground?”
“Yes. Everyone made it. How about you?”
“No one made it but me. They were all still living in North Dakota, and a massive tornado came through. I was underground, setting up the company here. None of them survived it.”
Colleen stopped walking again as a cold chill raced through her body. She couldn’t imagine anything so horrible. “I am so sorry.”
He shrugged. “A lot of us have similar stories. But thank you for saying so.”
“Won’t the memories make it difficult to rebuild your company in the same place where you lived?”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “No. It’s home. It’s where I want it to be.”
They continued walking. His passion suddenly took on a different meaning, but there was nothing she could do to push his request through without the permits. She’d lose her job. She doubted asking her aunt, who had created this agency, would do any good, but made a mental note to do so anyway, just in case.
“Here we are.” His voice was relaxed and cheerful again, but Colleen knew when someone was trying to cover up a negative emotion. She had enough practice in that area herself.
Inside, she glanced around at the pretentious, over-the-top décor and forced a smile to her face when she spotted the flashes from Internet phone cameras. He hadn’t been exaggerating.
Blaine took her hand as they were led to a table near the back, and she wondered why he’d done that. Did it matter whether people who looked at the picture thought they were out as a couple? Wouldn’t it hurt him if someone jumped to the conclusion he was trying to bribe a member of the AFSR? What was he up to?
As soon as they were seated, a server came over to take their
drink orders. Colleen had no idea what she wanted. It had been a while since she’d eaten here, and the menu was completely different from the one she remembered.
“Will you allow me to order a pitcher of one of their signature drinks?”
“What’s in it?”
“Tequila, lime—”
“You had me at tequila.” She picked up the menu while Blaine ordered the drinks, water for them both, and an appetizer. She only caught the word “oysters” after the server left.
She peered at him over the top of the menu? “Oysters? Seriously?”
“You’ll love the way they do them here.”
She leaned closer, although no one was near enough to hear their conversation. “Do you think we need an aphrodisiac?”
A slow, sexy grin spread across his face that had her wondering why she’d been so reluctant to go out with this man. They were going to end up having sex tonight. It was inevitable. She’d known it the second she’d spotted him on the surface days ago, wearing jeans and a plaid shirt. The cowboy boots had sealed the deal. She never could resist a handsome man in boots and casual clothing.
“I don’t need one. Do you?”
Colleen shook her head. He might be richer than her family, even, but he wasn’t the arrogant bore she’d assumed he was. He was blunt, passionate, and not afraid to make his intentions known. That was exactly the kind of man Colleen preferred.
Chapter Four
Blaine regretted choosing this place before their drinks arrived. He’d counted no less than three dozen flashes, and those were the ones he’d caught. By morning, their picture would be on every tabloid site and hundreds of message boards. At least half the people who saw it would assume he had gone out with Colleen because he was trying to rebuild his company on the surface. She already suspected that’s why they were here. He should have invited her to his apartment.
Then again, she still might suspect him of ulterior motives. And the truth was, he had asked her out because of the permits, but that wasn’t the only reason. He liked her directness and her lack of shyness. He was used to dealing with people who weren’t afraid to speak their minds, and he preferred his women that way, too.
And that face … she was so pretty. In this light, her hair shone like copper. When she looked into his eyes, he swore he could dive right into hers. They were deep pools of green, like the crater in a volcano in Indonesia he recalled seeing a picture of when he was a young boy. He’d always loved shades of green, and her eye color was unusual.
She glanced up from her menu. “I’m sticking with the pasta shells. Everything else sounds too artsy-fartsy.”
Blaine chuckled and closed his menu. “I understand what you mean, but I like this place. It’s airy and open. Reminds me of the surface the way it used to be.”
She swiveled in her chair, taking a long look around them, while more flashes went off from phones. Either she didn’t see them or didn’t care, because she didn’t react to them. When she faced him again, she smiled. “You’re right. It does.” Then she put her elbows on the table and rested her chin on folded hands. “So tell me the truth. How does it feel to be the heroes of the entire planet?”
“We’re not. Dave Perry is.”
“He wouldn’t have done that if all of you hadn’t forced him to.”
“We got lucky. When we picked him up, we had no idea he’d built a back door or the ability to read and execute suggestions into the program.”
She frowned. “Sounds like he led you all on a wild goose chase for years.”
The hairs on the back of Blaine’s neck prickled, though he couldn’t say why. “What makes you say that?”
“Well, for starters, you never knew about his jealousy over who got credit for designing that program, did you?”
How did she know about that? Those details weren’t public knowledge. “We did, but we had no idea how deep his resentment went.” Their salads arrived, and Blaine picked at his while she attacked hers as if she hadn’t eaten in a week. He wanted to keep her talking. “What else makes you say that about him?”
“Well, look at the chances he took at HCS. First he came out publicly against your plan, and then that article.”
The article was public knowledge. No alarm bells there. “He got complacent. At least, that’s what he told us.”
“He had an affair with Bonnie Clough, which was pretty stupid considering her husband strung someone along for three years, and that someone then came to work for one of you. And he stayed friends with Bonnie, taking her into his confidence. I mean, what was he thinking, getting mixed up with that woman in the first place?”
That, however, was definitely not public knowledge. “All of this still doesn’t explain why you say he led us on a chase.”
She looked at him like he had lobsters crawling on his face. “He tricked you. All of you. For years. You weren’t looking for him. You had no idea how involved he was, or that he had written the Tommy Twister virus.”
Okay. That definitely was not something she could possibly have heard from anyone except one of them, someone high up the food chain at HCS, or the President plus a few key members of his staff. Who the hell was this woman? And why hadn’t he done a background check on her before asking her out?
Because you were thinking with your dick from the moment you met her.
Stupid move on his part. Very stupid.
“Where did you hear that?”
She looked confused for a second. “About the virus you mean?”
“Yes.”
“My aunt, of course. I shouldn’t be telling you this, but she laughed her ass off when she heard about it. Said you guys wasted eight years and who knew how much money, when all you had to do was ask Dave.”
Who the fuck is her aunt?
“Even if we had asked him right away, eight years ago there were no dire threats against us all living underground like there is now. He hadn’t had time to build up enough guilt, or realize he’d been fucked from the moment he trusted the hackers. He had no reason to tell us anything at the time. It wouldn’t have played out the same way.”
He was giving her information the public didn’t know either, but it hardly mattered now.
“You weren’t there. I was. I watched his face, and I heard his voice. He never meant to send The Madeline Project on a course of destruction. He only wanted to take control of it until he got the credit for its design and concept, not Ronnie Treadway.”
“Assuming what he told you is true, don’t you still feel foolish for not knowing?”
“Foolish isn’t quite the word I’d use.” Even now, two months later, hearing the excuses Dave gave them said out loud sounded like the flimsiest reasons in the world for doing what he had done.
“And speaking of the threat that Oliver Fairchild found, there’s something I’m confused about. Now that we can go up to the surface, don’t we still have only a few years left down here?”
“That’s difficult to say for a while yet.”
“You know there’s been a committee formed who are planting trees, right?”
“Yes, but they’re trees grown down here and no one knows if the soil will support them. Some scientists theorize it’s been stripped away too heavily and the plants might not grow. It will take decades to completely rebuild the surface.”
“I agree.”
“We all have to live somewhere in the meantime.”
She shrugged, as if the threat of slowly suffocating underground was no longer real. “I guess we’ll find out.”
He wasn’t half as concerned about the trees right now as he was about the burning question of the evening. He had to ask. It was his own fault for not checking into her life before. If he walked away with egg on his face, so be it.
“I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage with respect to all the inside information you’re aware of.”
“Can you be more specific?”
“You mentioned having heard about Dave writing that virus from your aunt
, but I don’t know who you mean by that.”
“Oh.” She looked surprised. “My bad. I had no idea you didn’t know. I thought when we had that little exchange about who had started the AFSR a few days ago, you were only bluffing.”
What the fuck? Blaine struggled to maintain a neutral expression as he recalled their conversation on the surface, grateful that their server came to collect the empty salad plates, and distracted her from watching him too closely.
The truth hit him square in the face like a blast of cold air. Icy cold air, that chilled his bones and sent a wave of nausea washing over him. No! It couldn’t be. And yet, who else could she possibly mean?
Praying she didn’t notice anything amiss, he forced his gaze to her face. “She’s your aunt on your mother’s side, I take it?”
“Yes.”
Which meant her family was wealthier than he was. Did she know his history with her aunt Charlene? He hoped not. “That’s convenient for you.”
She put up her hands and shook her head. “Oh, no. Not really. She won’t do anything to make it look like she’s playing favorites. Even this job I had to land on my own.” She gave him a sheepish grin. “I guess you’ve probably figured out by now I was only posturing when I said that about knowing her, too. She has no influence over your permits.”
Wanna bet?
She narrowed her eyes slightly. “But I had no idea you knew her. Or did you just say that?”
She didn’t know, and she’d just given him the perfect out. But if he lied and she found out later, he’d lose any chance he had with her. Plus he’d fuck up his project, permits or not. Son of a bitch! He was stuck, and Blaine didn’t like being in this position. He’d done a sloppy job here. That wasn’t like him.
“We knew each other a long time ago.”
“I suppose that makes sense since she grew up in Thompson. It wasn’t that far from Grand Forks. That is where you’re from, right?”
