by Joni Hahn
Cursing, Riordan mentally kicked himself. How had they gotten here? How had he let them ruin the incredible lovemaking they’d had?
With a hand under her chin, he lifted her sad gaze to meet his. “You’re a damned good psychologist, Natalie. Mitchell wouldn’t have asked you to help me if he thought otherwise.” He kissed her on the nose. “Baby, don’t shut it down because you doubt yourself. Only shut it down if you don’t want to do it anymore.”
A ray of hope shown in her half-hearted smile. “I’d like to go to art school.”
He gave her an encouraging grin. “Then let’s find one you like.”
“And trade in my sedan for a sports car? A fast one?”
He nodded. “Now, you’re talking.” Scooting closer, he kissed her as he lowered her back to the bed, mindful of her leg.
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Maybe once my leg heals, I’ll get a tattoo to cover the scar.”
The flaw to her perfect skin still angered him. “Whatever you want, baby.”
The screen on his armband lit up. Mitchell.
Meeting in the morning, Oh-eight-hundred. Don’t keep up Natalie all night. I want to see her, too.
Chapter 12
The next morning, Riordan sat in the D.I.R.E. conference room with Tristan, Aidan and Dar, waiting for Mitchell to arrive. Rachel had stopped by way too early to chase him out of his own apartment so she could dress Natalie’s leg. He’d asked her to give Natalie something for her headache, too. He hadn’t heard that much groaning since their third bout of lovemaking hours earlier.
Riordan watched Natalie through the glass wall that looked out into the hallway. She wore a D.I.R.E. Agency t-shirt and yoga pants that fell low on her hips, showing off her diamond stud. Her glorious copper hair fell in a tail of satin over her shoulder, her face free of makeup. Mitchell introduced her to his wife, Angela. Natalie laughed at something she said.
He loved her this way, relaxed, smiling and peaceful. He’d never seen anything more beautiful.
Dar stirred his coffee as he set the cup in a steel sleeve. “Damn, I think I need to see a psychologist. I need to work through these daddy issues.”
Nodding, Aidan whistled. “Yeah, I’m still having problems with jealousy. What about you, Jacobs?”
Tristan smothered a grin. “Well, I’ve suffered with abandonment issues for a while now. It’s probably about time I got some help.”
Assholes.
“Go ahead and have your fun,” Riordan said. “You’re all going to need Clint when I’m through with you.”
Shoving out his hand, he repelled Dar’s coffee cup, spilling its contents down his shirt. Pointing at some empty sleeves on the credenza, he caught one, then another, before shooting them across the room at Tristan and Aidan. They ducked to miss them. Dar cursed a blue streak.
“What the hell is going on in here?”
Mitchell escorted Natalie inside the room and shut the door. Riordan smiled at her as he helped her sit beside him at the conference table. She leaned over and kissed him.
“Saint doesn’t play well with others.” Dar wiped at his shirt with a napkin.
“And, he throws things.” Aidan picked up a sleeve and set it on the table.
“Damn, is this a detention hall or a security agency?” Glancing at each of them, Mitchell finally stopped on Natalie.
“Don’t look at me.” She smirked. “You selected this team.”
He sighed aloud. “That I did.” Motioning toward Dar and Aidan, he said, “I don’t believe you’ve met Agents Aidan Monroe and d’Artagnan Naylor.”
She gave a brief nod. “I met Cass and Jocelyn last night. You’re lucky men.”
“No two ways about it.” Dar grinned. “I’m definitely the lucky one in that arrangement.”
Aidan smiled. “Cass is definitely my better half.”
“I thought I was…” Tristan feigned outrage.
“He told me I was,” Dar echoed.
Mitchell shook his head. “You fools are just full of shit this morning, aren’t you?” His phone vibrated on the table. Picking it up, his gaze shot to Riordan.
“It’s Luke Powers. This is the third time he’s called since yesterday afternoon.”
Natalie whipped around to look at him, his stomach churning like an old, broken down washing machine. Powers hadn’t wasted any time.
Riordan swallowed hard. He wasn’t ready to talk to him yet. He needed-
Natalie grasped his hand. Her encouraging smile sent a shot of adrenalin through his blood.
Yeah, he could do this.
“Answer it.”
Laying the phone on the table, Mitchell pressed the speaker button before answering. “Jacobs.”
Silence reigned in the room, Riordan’s eyes glued to the phone.
“I didn’t think you’d answer, Jacobs.” He cleared his throat. “This is Luke Powers of-“
“I know who you are. What can I do for you?”
Powers’ voice held a quizzical tone. “Do you have me on speaker?”
“Yes. I’m in a meeting.”
Powers gave an incredulous bark of outrage. “This is a private matter.”
“Everyone in this room can hear what you have to say.”
“That’s your opinion.”
Powers sounded irate now. Reminded Riordan a little of himself.
Mitchell frowned at the phone. “I’m a busy man, Mr. Powers...”
Powers gave a resigned sigh. “Riordan St. James.”
The other three agents looked his way, their faces a mixture of confusion and wonder.
“What about him?”
Shaking his head, Riordan gave Mitchell a small smile. He’d make Powers work for every detail.
“I want to meet him.”
Riordan sat back in his chair. Meet him? He definitely wasn’t ready for that. Hell, he didn’t even know if he truly was his father.
“If I could contact him myself, I would. But you’ve got your agents protected like freaking Fort Knox.”
Riordan shared a smile with Mitchell and his team.
Mitchell sat back in his chair. “What if he doesn’t want to meet you?”
A long silence ensued. Riordan imagined Luke Powers didn’t get refused often.
“I would hope… no…” The line remained silent for several moments. His voice returned, choked with tears. “If he’s got an ounce of Annie in him, he’s a good man. He’d give me that much.”
A lump formed in Riordan’s throat. He’d never heard anyone speak of his mother with reverence and respect. No one had known her like Riordan – except Powers. He’d experienced the best of Brianna – Annie - St. James.
Riordan hated to admit it, but he liked him already.
Natalie squeezed his hand. His gaze shot to her. She gave him an encouraging nod.
“I’ll meet you.” Riordan’s response echoed in the room, as though a trumpet blast should’ve sounded before it.
Powers jumped on it. “You’re there?”
Natalie kissed his hand, her beautiful face giving him courage.
“Yes.”
“When?” Powers’ question sounded gruff, urgent. “Name the place. I’ll be there.”
Mitchell cut in. “He’ll be in San Diego this Friday, at Dan Meeks’ fundraiser. Can you make it?”
Powers’ voice came out as a growl. “If you’re as good as your reputation, Jacobs, you know you don’t want me in the same room as Meeks.”
“Why?” Mitchell’s gaze went to Natalie. “Because he hired Robert Naylor to send away your son?”
Tristan, Aidan and Dar gazed at him, eyes wide with surprise.
“No, as much as I’d like to pin it on him, Dan Meeks didn’t send away Riordan. My father was responsible for that…” His voice lost its bluster. “…and a helluva lot more.”
Riordan sat up in his chair. His own grandfather got rid of him?
“But…” Powers’ voice held a hard edge. “Meeks is responsible for sending me an im
poster posing as my son. For that, I will show no mercy.”
This time, Riordan squeezed Natalie’s hand as he held a finger to his lips. He didn’t know Powers from Adam. For all he knew, he could harm Natalie to get back at Meeks.
Riordan didn’t want him anywhere near her. He kissed her temple.
Mitchell filled in the awkward silence. “Dan Meeks is a client.”
“A paying client?” Powers said, his voice rife with sarcasm.
“Yes, though obviously not loyal.”
Shaking her head, Natalie looked down at her lap. Riordan needed to end this. Obviously, Mitchell wanted him at the fundraiser. He’d just make sure Natalie stayed at D.I.R.E.
“If not Friday, Powers, it’ll be a while.” Riordan looked at Mitchell, who nodded.
Powers sighed into the phone. “You do realize I’m used to getting my way.”
“And you realize that I’m not,” Riordan said. “I won’t settle – not anymore.”
His response was immediate. “Fair enough.”
Mitchell’s eyebrows shot up.
“I’ll see you Friday, Riordan.” Powers hung up.
Riordan released a breath before looking at Natalie. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” She glanced around the room. “I’m angry and ashamed more than anything.”
“Holy shit, Saint,” Aidan stared at him with round eyes. “You’re Powers’ son?”
Tearing away his gaze from Natalie, he turned to Monroe and the others. “It looks that way, Monroe. I still want DNA tests.”
“Hell.” Tristan waved away his concern. “You look just like him.”
Dar nodded. “Why argue?”
“I’m tired of being used, Naylor. I want to make sure he’s on the up and up.”
Nodding, Mitchell sat up in his chair and crossed his hands on the table. “Now, we know Meeks wasn’t responsible for sending you away.”
Thank God that elephant had left the room. He’d dreaded having that between him and Natalie. Not that he didn’t have plenty reason to kill the man. He would spare him - for her.
“The real reason for my meeting today…” Mitchell took a deep breath. “As we suspected, the Silvermann Insurance Company’s computer system was fried on Friday.”
Riordan shared a glance with the other agents.
“That was the reason for the fire?” Natalie glanced around the table. “Why did you say ‘as we suspected’?”
“Silvermann Insurance is one of a handful of companies that have had their computer systems fried in recent months, though not under what you would consider, normal circumstances. In each case, the system was found fried but the cooling fans still running.” He read off the list of companies.
She glanced around the table. “Each of those companies turned down one of John Warner’s cyber security proposals.”
Riordan shared a glance with Mitchell.
“How do you know?” Mitchell said.
“It was discussed at the Warner board meeting last week.”
Riordan could sense her restlessness. He knew she’d be up pacing, or more, if it wasn’t for her injured leg.
“That’s it,” she said, her voice high-pitched. “John’s hurting for money. He had to stop construction on the new building, and asked for draws from the investors.”
She looked at Riordan, her gaze anxious. “It all makes sense. Why he’s been adamant about taking our relationship to the next level, why he happened to be in the building to save me.” She looked around the table. “He sent the text because he blames me for his lack of money and wants Paul’s inheritance back.”
“And used your name in a bomb threat, in case you showed up hurt down the road.” Riordan gritted his teeth.
Yawning, Clint Robinson rushed into the room, his blonde hair mussed. “Sorry, I’m late. What did I miss?” He sat down across from Riordan.
Mitchell glanced at him. “I just told Natalie about the fire on Friday.”
Clint nodded. “Yes, we’re looking for something that can pinpoint heat. Something that can disrupt the silica and short-circuit the motherboard.”
The video conference screen split to reveal Rose’s face. “Like radiated heat?” he said. “Sorry, I’m late. Richey’s been a real pain in the ass.”
Mitchell frowned at the screen. “When are the feds due to arrive?”
“Within the hour,” Rose said. “As far as anyone outside our offices are concerned, Richey skipped the country.”
Mitchell nodded. “What have you got on the forensics report, Rose?”
Jaydan’s gaze went to Natalie before darting to Riordan. “Sorry Natalie but, this could get a little tough.”
Riordan scooted closer to Natalie, wanting to shield her from yet another blow. Taking her hand, he brought it to his lips and kissed her palm.
Rose glanced around the table. “I’ve been going over the forensics’ reports on Paul Warner’s suicide. If it was a suicide bomb as the official reports state, explain why no detonator was found, no gunpowder or fuses?”
Mitchell glowered at the screen. “What did they find at the scene?”
“Bits of circuit board, copper tubing and thermo-reactive material. Very similar to the material used for extreme heat by race car drivers or volcanologists.” Rose read something on the bottom of his screen. “And get this, Clint – a solid hydrogen power source.”
Clint’s eyes bugged out of his head. “You’re kidding me?”
“So, Warner was wearing a radiated heat suit?” Riordan said.
Rose nodded. “Yes. It looks like poor shielding of the power source caused it be become unstable and it blew. Whether he knew it or not, Paul Warner’s suit was a ticking time bomb, destined to fail.”
Leaning her elbows on the table, Natalie buried her face in her hands. Riordan rubbed her back in soothing strokes.
“John Warner has to be using a similar suit,” Riordan said. “One that can pinpoint heat.”
Lifting her head, Natalie nodded. “He does have two bracelets he wears all of the time.”
“Iron is a good conductor of heat,” Tristan chimed in.
Aidan nodded his head. “That suit must be constructed of Nomex, possibly Kevlar, which makes it a poor electrical conductor.”
“Okay, okay…” Clint held up a hand to stop the conversation. “You guys are giving me a headache.” He blew out a breath. “If Warner is using the suit under his normal, everyday clothing, he’s incorporated a cooling system and some type of power controller to regulate the amount of heat he generates. The iron can pinpoint it, but to disarm it, you’d need to take out the controller without causing the hydrogen to become unstable. Otherwise, you’d have another Paul Warner on your hands.”
He held up a finger. “I also want to point out that we’re dealing with my research and the person that paid for it.
I want it back.”
Mitchell said, “You’ll have your research, Robinson.”
“Most important of all, Saint,” Clint said, “heat is your kryptonite. Once heat reaches Curie point, your magnetic powers start to weaken. Your Curie point is three hundred and ten Celsius.”
“He’d be well dead by then, wouldn’t he?” Dar leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.
“Not with Warner’s ability to pinpoint it. If he can do that and control temperature, all it would take is another handshake to destroy Saint’s flesh and disable his powers.”
“That’s assuming Warner knows about his powers…” Aidan said.
Rose gave a sarcastic chuckle. “Oh, he knows, Monroe. He had a front row seat for Saint’s circus performance.”
“So, how do we stop him?” Natalie said on a sigh.
Riordan looked at her. “We? There’s no we about it.”
“She’s right,” Mitchell said, leaning back to lock his hands behind his head. “If Warner wants to deepen their relationship, we need to give him that opportunity.”
“Over my stiff carcass,” Riordan cried. “She’s not
going anywhere near him.”
Natalie turned to face him, a deep frown over her swirling green-gold eyes. “Um, Riordan. That could be a problem.”
He pulled back his head. “Why?”
“He’s my date to the fundraiser.”
#####
Dan Meeks stared across the lunch table at John Warner. They sat in an upscale restaurant in downtown San Diego, surrounded by the workday lunch crowd. He refused to meet him in private anymore.
The asshole’s attempt at blackmail infuriated him. He’d gotten him the grant, stalled Powers’ licenses and patents, and encouraged his daughter to date him. Giving Warner more grant money would set a never-ending expectation he wouldn’t be able to deliver.
Put that on top of Frederick Richey skipping the country and Powers out for his ass, and he had more shit up his leg than a fertilizer farm.
His phone rang. Natalie.
“Hi, Kitten,” Dan said into the phone. “How’s the leg?”
“Much better, Dad. When are you getting into town?”
He took a bite of his asparagus and wiped his mouth with his white napkin. “I’m here. I’m having lunch with John Warner, as we speak.”
“Oh, good. Can you ask him what time he’s picking me up for the fundraiser tomorrow night?”
Dan frowned at Warner. “You’re taking Natalie to the fundraiser?”
Warner’s head popped up, his brows high on his forehead. “I thought she’d… forgotten.”
“Tell him I’d love to go, if he hasn’t found another date.”
Dan nodded at Warner.
He gave a superior grin.
“He’ll pick you up tomorrow night at six-thirty, Kitten.”
“Okay. See you then.” Natalie hung up.
Storing his phone in his breast pocket, Dan didn’t know how he felt about that. He’d considered Warner an ally until this blackmail attempt. The idea of him alone with Natalie didn’t sit well. What if he tried to hurt her?
He took a swig of whiskey. Desperate didn’t begin to describe Warner these days. Dan was convinced the man would stop at nothing to get the money he needed to save his company.
“I want you to announce my engagement to Natalie tomorrow night.”
Dan’s gaze shot to Warner. With slow, careful movements, he set down his glass. “What the hell are you talking about?”
