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I trudged up the stairs into my room and flopped onto the bed beside Agent Luc. Hopefully taking an hour or so to rest and center my energy would grant me a measure of peace and sanity.

I closed my eyes and commanded every limb, cell, and organ to relax. Slowly my mind smoothed, beginning its gradual slide into calmness and tranquillity. In gentle increments, my chaotic thought patterns coalesced into a focused whole. The pulse of my heartbeat harmonized with the steady stream of my mind.

Just when I was congratulating myself on a job well done, an image of Lucius appeared, upsetting my equanimity. My heartbeat sped up and thumped eagerly; my blood heated. I bit my bottom lip and mentally shoved his picture out of my mind.

It slid right back to center, taunting me.

My eyelids fluttered open, and I shifted to my side. The dog opened her eyes, checking her surroundings. When she realized all was well, she closed her eyes again and continued slumbering peacefully—taking up half the bed. If only I could find such peace. Lucius, I decided in the next instant, was a disease. A stinking, festering disease that rotted my common sense and might very well be the death of me. I needed some sort of antidote.

The battle to cast out the haunting presence of his image was in full force when my phone erupted in a series of beeps.

I uttered a low growl and picked up the cell unit from the side table, anchoring the main piece to my ear. “Yes.”

“Miss me?” A rough voice crackled over the other end.

“I miss you about as much as I miss the copper bullet I had to dig out of my stomach.”

Lucius laughed, the sound husky and rich as it washed over me. Neither of us commented on the fact that we didn’t have to state our names, that we’d only known each other a short time but already recognized each other’s voices.

“I love it when you play hard-to-get. Tell me how things are going,” he said with barely a breath.

“On schedule.”

“What’s this I hear about solar flares?”

My eyes narrowed, and I glared at the far wall. “When did you talk to Michael?”

“Answer me first.”

I did, and my speech was followed by a long silence.

“We need to investigate this,” he finally said. “Michael’s doing some research, but I think we need to do some on our own. The more the merrier, right?” He paused. “There’s got to be something to this flare shit. You did good.”

To be validated by someone as stern and unbending as Lucius was intoxicating. “Thank you,” I said. I tried to keep the elation out of my voice.

I must have failed because he said, “You cryin’ tears of joy over there?”

My cheeks heated. “Shut the hell up.”

“Don’t bite my head off.” He laughed.

“Which one?” I muttered.

“Either.” Another pause reigned before he blew out a breath. “I like you more every time I talk to you, you know that, cookie?”

I faked a southern drawl (quite well, I might add). “Is that why you’re calling me, Agent Luscious? So you can like me more?”

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped. “I had a spare minute and thought I’d check on you.”

“Didn’t Michael tell you how I was doing?”

“I wanted to hear it from you, all right?”

“All right,” I said, and let the subject drop. I didn’t admit that I was glad he’d called, that I’d wanted to hear from him. “Let’s finish our conversation about the solar flares, and you telling me what a good job I did.”

He snorted. “Just look into them. We can compare notes when you get here.”

My eyebrows winged up as a tide of anticipation hit me. “I bet I’ll have more information than you.”

He chuckled huskily. “My God,” he said.

“What?”

“Did you hear yourself? I’ll have more information than you,” he mimicked. “I doubt I’ve ever heard a more obvious challenge. You have got to be the most competitive woman in the entire world.”

“Now that’s hardly a fair statement. You haven’t met every woman in the world.”

“Doesn’t matter. I accept the challenge. We’ll just see who has more information.”

I grinned, invigorated. “So, how are things with you?”

“Parker sympathizes with my obsession for you and plans to help me win you. He’s throwing a party and made sure your new boss received an invitation.”

I knew that, I almost said, but thankfully stopped myself. He had no idea I’d listened and watched his interaction with Jonathan Parker, and I needed to keep it that way. “What exactly do you plan to do to win me?”

“Let’s keep that a surprise so your reaction is real. I wouldn’t worry except that your acting sucks.”

My grip on the unit box tightened, and I lost my grin. “I can act.”

He didn’t comment.

I heaved a sigh. Fine. “What’s my apartment like?” I gritted out.

He offered no denial about the fact that he’d sneaked inside. “Looks good. Spacious. Well guarded. Expensive. You’ll have no trouble fitting in. And in case you were wondering, your bed is big enough for two people.”

“That’s good to know. I’m sure Agent Luc will be glad we can both fit.”

Silence.Dark, heavy silence that crackled with tension.

“Who the hell,” he said haltingly, “is Agent Luc?”

“A friend of mine.” I stroked a hand down the dog’s soft fur, and she snorted blissfully in her sleep. “Luc is helping me with the case.”

“You did not have my permission to include this man in our mission.”

I didn’t correct his assumption that Luc was a male.How’s my acting now? “I don’t need your permission for anything.”

“Damn it, Eden. Does Michael know?”

“What? Are you going to run and complain to the boss?” I taunted.

I heard a sharp grinding noise and pictured Lucius working his jaw. I smiled because I’d just ensured he wouldn’t ask Michael about Luc for any reason. Ah, male pride. So predictable.

“If this man steps one foot—one damn foot—inside your apartment, I’ll shove those feet so far up his ass he’ll vomit them out. Understand?”

My smile grew wider. I couldn’t help myself. “Oh, I understand all right.”

He paused. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He no longer sounded angry. He sounded hesitant.


Tags: Gena Showalter Alien Huntress Science Fiction