Dawn Endeavor 1: Fallon's Flame

by Marie Harte

  What an odd woman.

  Olivia stumbled out of bed, amazed her legs could hold her. As she showered in the adjoining bathroom, she couldn't help wishing she could swirl down the drain with the rest of the water. Oh God. How was she going to look at Jesse again? How could she look at his team? No doubt the handsome playboy had told everyone what they'd done, how he'd nailed the new girl in under a day.

  Though he'd been the perfect gentleman last night, even going so far as to dress her in a nightshirt and help her into bed, she'd been through this song and dance before. In her experience, the prettier the guy, the worse his behavior.

  Jesse was by far the most handsome man she'd ever…what? Fucked? Not quite. Though he'd brought her to bliss, he hadn't experienced the same—at least, not at her hands. Why had he done that?

  Puzzled he hadn't displayed the characteristic selfishness his type normally did, she relived every kiss, caress, and touch from the night before. She had to end her shower by dialing down the heat, cooling her libido in a hurry to make the ten-o'clock meeting.

  After drying off, dressing, and blow-drying her hair, Olivia dressed in slacks, a sweater, and a pair of leather mules. Taking a deep breath, she resolved to act as if nothing had happened.

  That she hadn't broken every cardinal rule in the workplace by sleeping with a coworker, if she could call Jesse that.

  When she opened her door, she found a rose and a short note under it. Our secret.

  Warmed, though still hesitant to believe in him, Olivia tucked the rose and the note in her room and hustled down the stairs. She retraced her steps twice but found the kitchen soon enough. To her delight, a warmed plate of eggs and toast awaited her. She took it to the expansive counter and pulled up a stool across from the team.

  “Hey, Olivia. You missed the rest of the bacon by minutes. Thank Gunnar for eating the last of it,” Kisho greeted.

  “No worries. I don't eat much in the morning.”

  Jesse, Gunnar, and Jules sat at the counter. Kisho stood on her side of it, drinking water.

  Jules read the paper, while Gunnar and Jesse traded insults.

  She glanced at Jesse, saw his smile of welcome, and quickly glanced away, praying she looked more at ease than she felt. God, her libido kicked into high gear at just the sight of him.

  Kisho frowned. “You should eat more. You could do with a few pounds.”

  “I knew I liked you.”

  He grinned back at her, and she felt like she'd earned a treat. She had the feeling Kisho didn't smile as often as he should.

  Cupping a mug of coffee, Gunnar scowled. “Hey, you snooze, you lose. Sorry, sweet cakes, but I like meat. A growing boy's got to eat.”

  “Jerk.” Fallon smacked him in the back of the head. “Ever heard of ladies first?”

  “Please, she's no lady. Olivia has 'trouble' written all over her.” She grinned. “You're damned right. And don't you forget it.” He grunted. “See?”

  Jesse sighed. “This is as good as he gets. I'll apologize in advance.”

  “Nothing more we can do about him,” Kisho agreed. “And it was all we could do to get him housebroken.”

  “Smart-ass.” Gunnar tried to hide a grin. “Don't let the Asian fool you. Kisho acts all nice and friendly, but he's deadly. One word of his poetry and you'll die of boredom.” Kisho said something in Japanese.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I told him he has the face of a goat and the lovemaking skills of a swine. But it's much more poetic in Japanese.”

  “How'd you sleep, Olivia?” Jesse asked.

  Jules looked up from his paper. He narrowed his gaze at Jesse, then her.

  She studied her plate and toyed with her eggs. “Fine. This place is better than a five-star hotel. Ava even put my clothes away for me.”

  “Did you enjoy the gardens last night?” Jules asked.

  Olivia took a bite of breakfast and forced herself to chew, concentrating on not blushing.

  She didn't look up. “I did. I love the landscaping around here. Very pretty, even in the cold.” Good job. Now if you can just keep your cheeks from flaming every time you see Jesse's talented mouth, you'll be okay.

  She still didn't understand why she'd let him go down on her. Olivia had no problem expressing a healthy sex drive, but oral before a first date had never been her MO. No doubt about it, Jesse was dangerous. She'd be best to steer clear of him while she acclimated to her environs and the team.

  At least he hadn't bragged to his friends. Kisho wouldn't say anything if he knew, but Gunnar most certainly would.

  “Ah good, you're all here.” Mrs. Sharpe joined them. She wore a similar outfit to the one she'd worn yesterday. Gray wool slacks but with a black dress shirt and the pearls. “I've put together a folder for each of you. Study the contents thoroughly, and you'll know as much as I know. I want this to be your focus for the next few days. After that you'll start training with Olivia. You'll need to see what she can do physically and mentally.” Mrs. Sharpe turned to her. “My dear, I'd like to see you later today, after you've had a chance to look over the folder.” Folder actually translated to a thickly bound sheaf of paper.

  “Don't you want to know if I'll agree to do the job?” Olivia asked, curious that Mrs. Sharpe acted as if her participation were a done deal.

  Mrs. Sharpe looked at Kisho.

  He nodded. “Sorry, Olivia. You're on board. Saw it again yesterday.”

  “Really? What did you see?” Incredible, she thought, to know the future.

  “I get glimpses of possibilities, but every one I've had since Mrs. Sharpe told me about this mission has you in the jungle with the four of us.”

  Her mouth dried, and she reached for the glass of orange juice Jesse handed her. Their fingers touched, and she shivered. She didn't mistake his look of satisfaction.

  “Ah, okay.”

  “And there you have it.” Mrs. Sharpe dropped a thick stack on the counter. “Read up, and I'll see you all later. Olivia, five o'clock sharp. Don't be late.” She left them in a well of quiet.

  “I hate reading,” Gunnar grumbled. “It's going to be a long day. I can just feel it.” Jesse drank the rest of his coffee and carried his cup to the sink. He grabbed his stack of material and headed for the door with a salute to the others.

  Jules stood. “Fallon—”

  “Gotta get busy. Talk to you later, Jules.” He disappeared in a flash.

  Jules didn't say anything, but the dark expression on his face promised problems for Jesse.

  She felt bad for him, but at the same time, she appreciated not having to trip over herself in his presence. At least now she could eat, then disappear up to her room to study. She took the stack of material Jules handed her as he passed them out to his team.

  “Bastard's fast; you have to give him that.” Gunnar sighed long and loud as he traipsed over to the couch across the living room and sat down. He propped his gigantic feet—still bare—

  up on the coffee table and opened the folder. “Wish I could disappear too.”

  “Don't we all,” Kisho murmured.

  Gunnar shot him a finger, which Kisho ignored. He sat next to his friend and began to read.

  Olivia finished her meal in silence, aware of Jules's scrutiny. She had no intention of telling anyone what she and Jesse had shared; what it had felt like to fly so free. Her experience with a virtual stranger had been the best sexual experience of her life. How pathetic did that make her? The queen of easy, and desperate to boot.

  Now depressed and eager to be alone, she shoveled her food into her mouth, poured herself a cup of coffee, and took it and her folder with her back to her room. Time to get to work.

  Five o'clock rolled around all too soon. She'd enjoyed the sandwich Melissa brought her for lunch. But all this good eating made her realize she'd better start exercising or she'd turn into a dumpling. Good genes afforded her a slender though toned frame, but she didn't take anything for granted. She planned to take a jog after her me
eting with Mrs. Sharpe. No time like the present for good health.

  On her way to her meeting, she dwelled on what she now knew. The laboratory responsible for the manufacture of this drug had secret funding. Nothing linked it to another government, and the consensus Mrs. Sharpe's information gathering had come to suggested that an independent contractor was out to make some serious money. From what Admiral London and his investigative team had put together, criminals within the United States had kidnapped a senator and several key personnel privy to the new psychic program. What the mastermind behind the stolen information decided to do with it was anyone's guess.

  While the admiral worked on his own damage control, several South American sources pooled together intelligence on details about the lab. Some of the material she'd read had been in Portuguese, and she now knew much more about their contact and a Colonel Montaña than she wanted to. The head of the laboratory's security had a sadistic streak a mile wide. Good thing she had no intention of going to the lab. She crossed her fingers, worried about jinxing herself.

  A quick peek at her watch showed her to be five minutes early for the meeting as she arrived at Mrs. Sharpe's office.

  Ava left the room, muttering under her breath, and hurried down the hallway.

  “Come on in, Olivia.”

  The woman must have had the ears of a bat, because the door obscured her view of the hallway. Olivia entered and shut the door behind her.

  “Please, sit down.” Mrs. Sharpe poured her a cup of coffee fixed just the way she liked it.

  Just another odd quirk to add to the woman's growing list.

  Impressed the woman noted even minute details, Olivia thanked her, sat in the chair next to her, and accepted the cup with gratitude. “Just what I needed, a caffeine boost.”

  “I figured. The folder I gave you is quite thick. While I prefer electronic means for disseminating information, this was simply quicker since Admiral London couriered the information this morning.”

  Olivia wondered about that.

  “Not personally, of course.” Mrs. Sharpe's lips twitched. “He's rather busy at the moment.”

  “Oh right.”

  “So what do you think about all this?”

  Olivia hadn't expected a personal conversation. She'd anticipated questions and answers about what she'd read, so it took her a moment to answer. “I'm a bit overwhelmed, if you want the truth.”

  “Does the nature of who you're working with bother you?”

  “Not really. Maybe because they still seem pretty normal, except for being so big and, ah, masculine.” She blushed as Jesse's image flashed in her mind. “I mean, well, they're an intimidating group, but they've been nice to me thus far.” More than nice.

  Mrs. Sharpe sipped from her own cup. “They can be boisterous, demanding, aggressive, and when it comes to Gunnar, annoying, yet they wouldn't harm an innocent to save their lives. I read people for a living, and I can tell you, I've never met a finer group than these men.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “But don't tell them that. I don't want their heads to get any bigger than they are now.”

  Olivia chuckled.

  “I want you to be comfortable around them, to trust them. But I'm a realist. Trust comes with time. Unfortunately we don't have a lot of that. The original plan was for us to fly our contact out here, let you interrogate him, then send you home. Plans changed. You're going to fly down to Brazil and help our team learn from our contact where to go. Once you get us the information we need, you'll be on a plane ride home. Jules has convinced me that using you as a control is just too dangerous. This way we'll minimize risk to you while affording our team the assistance they need. I want to think our contacts are on the level, but I never trust from a distance, if you know what I mean.”

  “I do.”

  “You're going to be working hand in hand with four Circs. Get to know them. Talk with them. Work with them. Show them how strong you are, and don't hold back. They need to know your strengths and limitations so we can execute a smooth mission. I know I'm asking a lot, but it's necessary.” She paused. “Admiral London called me an hour ago to say he lost a man in his new division. Reports conclude the individual was captured by men who work for Colonel Montaña.”

  “He's got men in the States?”

  “Apparently. Which means he has contacts we know nothing about. Montaña and his group are on a watch list. The minute any of them stepped on American soil, a red flag should have been raised. That it wasn't worries me. I won't trust you or the team to sources I'd normally use. That's why you're going to be so important on this mission, Olivia. You speak the language, you can pass as a native, and you'll be able to tell the men who to trust. They need you.”

  “But Jesse can read minds. Jules can see auras.”

  “Jesse doesn't understand Portuguese. And Jules's ability will help identify sickness, negativity, or ill intent, but it won't show who he can trust.”

  “What about Kisho's ability to see the future? Can't he focus and figure out who might betray them? He should be their ace in the hole.”

  Mrs. Sharpe shook her head. “If it were that simple, you wouldn't be here. Kisho sees possible futures. Change one thing, and you change what may be into what may not be. He's also not at the point where he can call on his ability at will. His visions come at random. We're working on that, but it's slow going.”

  The burden of responsibility settled heavily on Olivia's shoulders. Excitement turned to anxiety as she realized the scope of this project. But it's what you wanted. Something to break the doldrums of your daily life. Sex, psychics, and now danger. What could top that?

  Mrs. Sharpe patted her knee. “I've said more than enough. Why don't you go for that run you wanted to take? Follow the path out of the garden. You'll be safe. The trail extends for a mile if you turn around once you hit the yellow marker. There are lights to guide you, should the sun set while you're out.”

  Olivia frowned. “I didn't mention a run.”

  “Didn't you?” Mrs. Sharpe raised her brows and said nothing more.

  Disturbed, Olivia raised her mental shields. Though the woman hadn't confirmed or denied her abilities, according to Ava, Mrs. Sharpe knew things she couldn't know. Olivia could only hope her shield protected the secrets she worried the uncanny woman might see.

  “Well then. Thanks for our talk.” I think, she said to herself and rose to her feet.

  “Use tomorrow to gather your thoughts. Study the file inside and out. Know who you should be able to trust, so when the time comes, you can put them to the test. And commit the few faces we have of Montaña's crew to memory. I have a feeling he's going to be more of a menace than we'd counted on.”

  “Terrific.” Olivia still wasn't sure about the dangerous aspect of this job, but she didn't like the thought of Jesse— or any of the men—heading into peril when they could avoid it. She said good-bye to Mrs. Sharpe and headed to her room.

  Stress suddenly felt like a second skin. After changing into a jogging suit and pulling her hair into a ponytail, she finished tying her sneakers and headed downstairs and out through the garden doors. To her relief, she didn't run into anyone. Spending the day in her room had ensured her privacy and the quiet to study what she could of that massive folder. She wasn't ready to face Jesse and the others yet, especially after Mrs. Sharpe's bombshell.

  Olivia did a quick stretch and began running. The dirt path stretched several feet on either side of her, so she didn't feel hemmed in as she ran. The exercise helped clear her mind of the web of fear and tension. Talk about problems on top of problems she needed to face.

  One, she had no training for this type of thing. It was a bonus that she spoke the language, but that wouldn't save her from a bullet. Two, how the hell was she expected to keep up with the best of the best? The rumors she'd heard about Circs mentioned men who never tired. Five minutes into her run, her lungs ached and her legs pinched. Not good.

  Three, what she'd read about Montaña made he
r cringe. Sadist might as well have been his middle name. Brutal but efficient, he didn't suffer fools or traitors. His men remained loyal for fear of torture and then death. And Mrs. Sharpe wanted her to fly down to Brazil to be closer to the man. Terrific. She sped up. Four, for a woman facing a major crisis, she felt like a horny teenager. She'd happily settled into celibacy several months ago, determined to stop falling for Mr. Wrong because she couldn't keep her hormones in check. She thought she'd conquered her bad habit of falling for handsome men with little character. Until she'd allowed a gorgeous man she barely knew to give her oral sex not more than four hours after they'd first met.

  What kind of woman did that?

  She ran faster, sprinting to the yellow sign ahead of her. The turnaround point.

  What really stuck in her craw, though, wasn't the danger of the assignment, the potential for disaster, that she might hurt the team, or even her unsuitability to perform, but that Jesse might think her easy.

  She hadn't explained to him how unlike herself she'd been with him. She just wasn't like that. Sure, she liked sex, but she normally lasted at least a few weeks before succumbing to temptation. She'd work hard to earn an orgasm or two, then let go of her boyfriends after sharing too many of their emotions. Boredom would set in. Disgust that she couldn't break out of bad habits, especially when she could see going into a relationship it would end badly. Yet here she was, once again, mooning after a hunk way out of her league. Go figure.

  She turned around at the sign and slowed down, her lungs burning. At least Jesse seemed to be circumspect about what they'd done. Probably because he hadn't had his “happy ending” yet.

  Even as she knew she unfairly condemned him, she couldn't help herself. Every time she'd wished one of her Prince Charmings would be different, he'd turned into a frog. And none of them had ever churned her up so much inside. She barely knew Jesse, and she couldn't stop thinking about him.