Fascination Page 3

Ian couldn’t make out the look on her face, but he saw her hug Ray and then slowly move past him to stand on the edge of the walk, her attention focused across the street. She was staring at a man, not far from where Ian himself sat in the window. The guy looked roughly her age but slick and—Ian’s gut signaled him—dangerous.

  He was tall. Skinny but built—the kind of guy who always walked away because others underestimated him in a fight. His long hair was tied back and an earring shone in the sunlight. Ian couldn’t make out exact facial features, but his hackles rose in response to the way the guy’s focus was obviously pinned on Sage. They were making direct eye contact—silent communication streaming across the distance between them. They definitely knew each other.

  Ian’s internal radar sharpened. Something was up and it wasn’t good. Though he’d never seen the guy before, he knew the look—he was a walking hacker cliché. Dressed in black, wearing a leather jacket on a hot summer day, he stood out like a sore thumb to anyone who knew the type. Apparently, like many criminal hackers, he had an ego bigger than his brain. Though they’d claim otherwise, they usually wanted to be noticed.

  Ian waited to see what would happen, his body tense and poised in the chair. The man stepped back, taking an envelope from his jacket and sliding it into the large pot of flowers by the curb, nodding in Sage’s direction before walking away.

  A drop, Ian realized. And not even a very subtle one. This guy didn’t really care if anyone saw him. Or maybe he was just arrogant enough to think no one was looking.

  What was she involved in? Ian’s blood first ran cold and then started to simmer—was she an idiot, getting involved with these people when she was so close to finishing out her time? Or had she been involved with them all along, playing Ian for a fool? Sage was clever, no doubt. Maybe more so than he’d assumed. Maybe for all his supervision, she’d found a back door. Maybe her constant flirting was not so much an attempt at control as a method of distraction. Was the guy part of her old group? She’d never given up any of their identities, though Ian knew she hadn’t worked alone. Someone new? Were they lovers?

  His jaw tightened as ugly thoughts raced through his mind. He held himself in check, resisted the urge to run out and confront her, to find out what was in the package. He intended to find out soon enough.

  SAGE’S FINGERS WERE NUMB as she looked through the tangle of blood-red azaleas, her heart beating furiously, to see what Locke had left there. She glanced around carefully, trying not to be too obvious. She was taking a chance, but it wasn’t an option to call for help or alert anyone—if Ian knew she’d even seen Locke, he’d throw her in jail without a second thought.

  She didn’t want to pick up the envelope, but neither did she want to leave it there. Biting her lip, she knew it was meant for her. If someone else found it, it could be just as damning; she had to know what was in there. She could just take it and destroy it so that nothing in it could hurt her or anyone else.

  Locke had barely changed in five years, but seeing him made her realize how much she had. In an instant she knew she didn’t want him back in her life and she feared for her freedom. He was tall and gaunt-looking in a very romantic, poetic way that had once appealed to her but now left her cold.

  They’d met the summer before her junior year in college; he’d been an arts major, and she’d been in computer science. He’d been her first lover, and they’d had some good times. He was passionate and his adventurous spirit in bed had encouraged her own to blossom. Locke had been adventurous in other ways, too.

  Though he’d studied art history, he was a hacker of brilliant proportions. He eschewed formal education and had taught himself everything he knew. And he knew a lot. He’d studied art as a form of camouflage. Who would suspect an art history major who studied restoration of renaissance paintings of being a master computer hacker? Sage felt the material of her jacket slide against the paper of the envelope and gulped.

  Walking quickly up the street to her home, where she could inspect the package privately, she kept glancing around suspiciously, making sure she was alone. It wasn’t good news that Locke had showed up now. Being seen anywhere around him could violate her sentencing agreement. It was a relief to reach her house.

  Throwing her jacket on the hall table, she held the thickly padded envelope in her hands and just stood quietly for a few minutes. When she finally ripped at the paper, an old zip disk and a letter fell out. She bent to pick them up from the floor. The disk was unlabeled, and she certainly didn’t have a computer to read it with. She opened the white slip of paper, feeling her heart sink.

  To my LadyBug—

  She closed her eyes when confronted with her old “nym”—her hacker pseudonym or nickname. Locke had christened her with it when he had discovered her budding talent for creating “bugs,” computer viruses. It was something she had done for fun; she’d never let any of them loose on the Net. It was enough for her to try to make the code work. She’d broken into some sites—sure, most hackers did—but she’d never been destructive in any way. Everything changed when she met Locke.

  Opening her eyes again, she read.

  I know this must be a surprise—hopefully a happy one. I’ve never forgotten you. I can only hope you still care since you didn’t tell them about me. You proved your loyalty. I’ve thought of you every day for the last five long years. I’ve missed you, baby girl.

  Her skin crawled as she remembered how he’d always called her that and how she’d loved it, practically worshipping him, how he’d made her feel as if someone finally understood her. Locke had understood her—well enough to take advantage of her.

  Remember the evenings we spent in the grotto planning our attacks? Well, it’s done, baby girl. It’s a true work of art, a testament to your sacrifice. I worked every day to finish what you started, and now it’s finished and ready to go. When you’re free, we’ll celebrate this great accomplishment together.

  Always yours, Locke

  Sage’s hands were shaking now, and the note fell from her hands to the floor. She stared at the disk, her heart in her throat. She didn’t need a computer to know what was on it—it was the thing that would take away her freedom for good.

  3

  IAN WASN’T QUITE SURE what he was going to do; he decided to just play it by ear and see what developed. He’d let a couple hours pass so that she wouldn’t get suspicious. But he’d been watching. She’d brought the package home, and he’d watched her through the window as she’d read something, seen her bend to retrieve an object she’d dropped on the floor. He wanted to know what it was.

  His knock on the door received no response, but he knew she was in there and rapped his knuckles on the wood door again, harder. This time the door opened, his hand held up in midknock. Sage glared at him, seeming agitated but not surprised by his appearance.

  “What do you want? It’s late.”

  “Well, isn’t that a charming way to answer the door.”

  “I don’t need to be charming with you.”

  “True, and I don’t need to explain a random visit. Open up.”

  Ian watched her move to the side and noted the tension in her stance and her expression. Something was definitely up. It wasn’t completely unprecedented for her to display bad temper when he showed up unexpectedly, but this was different.

  She was guarded, protective. He could see it in the way she wrapped her slim arms around her midsection and how her eyes met his with their usual belligerence but none of the sexy challenge he usually encountered.

  She was scared. He wanted to know why and of what. Of him? Of being caught? Or of something else?

  “Everything go well today?”

  “Jesus, Ian, I just reported in yesterday. Is it the usual practice to harass your people when they get close to the end of their sentences?”

  “You’re making a pretty big deal over a random visit. And here I thought you were always glad to see me.”

  The uncharacteristic flirtation, laconic as it wa
s, triggered confusion in those green eyes, and he watched her lower her head before perusing the room.

  “You mind if I look around?”

  “You mean I have a choice?”

  “No.”

  Then something of the old Sage snapped into place, and she dropped her arms, placing one hand on her hip. “Yeah, I figured. Just try not to get too turned on by my bras hanging in the shower.”

  Sliding her a look, he moved forward, going through the motions as he picked up a pile of mail and glanced through it, then at her calendar. No appointments slotted in for today, nothing she should have missed work for.

  “You didn’t go into work today.” Looking up, he saw her slight surprise. Good.

  “I wanted a day off.”

  “Doctor’s appointment?”

  “What, you want to know the results of my Pap smear?”

  “I just wondered why you took the day off. They said you’d given final notice, as well.”

  She leaned against the doorway, the white cotton T-shirt she was wearing pulling across her breasts as she stuck one hand in the pocket of her shorts. The little colorful clips that held some of her wild curls in place made her look impossibly young.

  “Yeah. I did.” Her chin tipped up in challenge. “I hate it there. I’m leaving after my sentence is over, so you have no say in the matter. I want out of that place and away from you as soon as possible. I’m looking for a new job.”

  “So that’s what you were out doing? Job hunting?” Made sense, he thought, remembering her outfit. Though it could also just be a cover for whatever else she was up to.

  He’d checked out all the visible surfaces—no envelope. She’d hidden it or destroyed it, which made him even more suspicious. He’d have to do an extensive search to find it, but he couldn’t look around more than normal without raising her suspicions. He wanted to keep her off guard for the time being.

  He continued his inspection, not really looking around so much as mentally scrambling to come up with a plan. He frowned. He had one idea, though it wasn’t a good one. He crossed back to where she stood, waiting for an answer to his question.

  “Yeah, actually I had an interview, if you must know.”

  “With whom?”

  “Meyers and Dunn.”

  Ian furrowed his brow. He’d met Jim Meyers once or twice at social affairs. He didn’t like him. The guy was a sleaze who didn’t even bother to hide it, married but never showing up to occasions with his wife. And the flavor of the month was usually someone just barely legal.

  “For what position?”

  “Whatever they have available.”

  Ian didn’t even want to think about what positions Jim Meyers might have available for a woman like Sage. He made a mental note to check up on her application and drop a warning Jim’s way. Then he reconsidered—her job hunt was not important and was probably just a cover story anyway.

  “Don’t you think it’s putting the cart ahead of the horse to quit before you have a job?”

  “Please, Ian, I’m too old and you’re too young to be acting like my father.”

  Sage pushed away from the wall, and awareness dawned on him immediately. She’d been guarding that entryway—that’s where she didn’t want him to go. He looked down at her, gauging his next move. She appeared more slight than she usually did, the way the worn cotton just hinted at the even softer shapes underneath distracting him for a moment.

  He didn’t particularly like what he was about to do, but it was the only thing he could think of. He modulated his voice a bit, stepping slightly closer. She smelled like heaven. It made his job easier—and much more difficult.

  “Believe me, darlin’, I don’t feel any paternal inclinations toward you at all.”

  She met his eyes then, and he saw the curiosity fighting with the caution. Then he blinked, and she turned to her old tricks, definitely trying to challenge him. She’d seen her chance and she was going for it. Fine—two could play that game. And he’d been at it longer. He might only be seven years older than she was, but in terms of experience, that was a lifetime.

  “Good, because I’m all grown up, Ian.” She stretched her arms over her head, yawning, and he watched as her shirt lifted, exposing her stomach, pulling taut across her breasts. Did the woman ever wear the bras that were supposedly hanging in the bathroom? Not that he cared. The less she was covered up, the better.

  Reaching forward, he caught her raised hands in the air, trapping both of her wrists in one of his large hands and holding them there. Startled, she tried to pull away, but he didn’t let her.

  His heart slammed against his chest, his breath coming a little short as he felt her hip nudge him intimately, her scent suffusing the air around him. But while his body was responding of its own accord, his mind was in total control. Ian was confident—he never lost control unless he wanted to.

  He wanted to find out what was in that package and he couldn’t think of a better way to gain entrance to that room. She’d been using her sexuality to distract him for a long time, to chip away at his control—what would she do if she thought she’d finally succeeded in making him lose it? If she were confident that she had finally gotten to him, would she drop her guard? He decided to find out.

  And if he was honest with himself, he wanted to find out more than that. He wanted to know her taste, to know how she felt under his hands, to know if she was as sweet as he imagined. He’d been fantasizing about sinking his hands into those copper waves and he wanted to do it, to know if she was as silky as she looked. It was wrong, but as long as he stayed in control, he could ease some of the curiosity that plagued him, this once. It was a calculated risk, but he’d taken them before.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Her voice was breathless, and while her eyes were still guarded her face became rosy, and her nipples budded against the T-shirt. So it wasn’t all a charade—she was attracted to him. At least physically. That was enough.

  Though she was obviously deceiving him about other things, she couldn’t hide her desire for him. Basic male satisfaction with that fact settled deep inside of him, and he hardened, stepping even closer to let her feel his response. Her eyes deepened to a mossy jade, and he fought an unexpected spike of desire. He needed to stay in control of the game.

  “Hey, you made the offer, sweetheart. I guess I had some time to think about it. We’re only talking four days. I don’t want to wait that long. But if you want me to leave, I will. I’m not into forcing women.”

  The shocked look on her face was erased as she smiled up at him, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes.

  “No, I don’t imagine you would ever have to, would you?”

  It was all he needed to hear. Backing her up against the door frame, he crashed his mouth into hers, not bothering with preambles or gentleness. All of the anger he’d felt mixed with the passion that had been building for so long, during all those years she had been beckoning him. Now he was answering that call.

  If she’d resisted, he would have backed off, but she only momentarily tensed before opening hungrily to his search of her mouth. Then she began a search of her own. In the back of his mind he kept a part of himself distant, away from the desire that was quickly consuming him. She was sweet and hot, a seductive combination of girlish innocence and sheer wanton lust. He felt his head swim a little but held on.

  How far was she willing to go with this? How far was he willing to let her go? He lowered her arms so that they wrapped around his neck, and she clung to him. He growled his satisfaction at her submission against her lips.

  The game was on.

  SAGE WASN’T SURE WHAT had just happened. It had been a long time since anyone had touched her like this—though as the moments passed she was increasingly sure that no one had ever touched her exactly like this, so expertly, so thoroughly.

  Ian was everywhere—his hands, his mouth. He was devouring her and she was letting him. It was heaven. She’d never imagined, not really, exactly what he
would taste like, feel like. The reality was stunning.

  Coffee. Male. Sex.

  She’d been desperate to keep him from looking through her small dining room, where she’d slid the envelope under the carpet just seconds before she’d met him at the door. If he found it, there would be no explaining.

  She’d only meant to piss him off a little, get him off the scent and out the door. She certainly hadn’t expected this. Had he followed her all day? Did he know about Locke? The questions had frozen her in terror when he’d appeared at the door.

  But as his warm hands kneaded her breasts, she realized his random evening visit might have been a ruse, a reason to come here. To see her. To seduce her and take her up on her offer—an offer she had never really meant to be taken seriously. Her concern about the envelope—and her ability to think at all—dimmed as he continued his sensual onslaught.

  Ian was apparently taking it very seriously. She moaned into his mouth and nipped his lip as he pulled sharply at her nipple, sensations from the tug shooting down to her sex, creating an almost painful ache. He chuckled huskily and pushed his thigh between hers, rubbing against her intimately in a way that had her gasping and quickly losing any remaining reason.

  Then he pulled back, looking down at her with glittering steel-gray eyes. The look he gave her was hard but hot. She couldn’t see anything, read anything, except desire—he wanted her. And determination—he meant to have her. She shivered in excitement.

  “This inspection seems to be a little more thorough than the rest.” She tried to tease, though her voice sounded foreign to her, hoarse with arousal.

  He smiled slightly, and she felt herself dissolve. She’d never seen him smile. Not once in five years. Even though it wasn’t a full-on, happy smile, it changed his whole face and transfixed her.

  “I’m not quite finished. I’m sure there are some things you’re hiding that I need to find. I’ll have to look around a bit more.”

  Paranoia pricked at the back of her brain, though she chided herself. He was only playing, making a sexual entendre, responding to the banter she had begun. She met him eye to eye, daring him. No way would she back down now. She wanted him, which startled her, but she also wanted the challenge. Would he back off? Was he testing her? Could she finally make him break his own rules and go for it? For the sake of the need that was throbbing through her body, she hoped so.