“Or going after you.” Sherra moved back from the doorway as he entered the kitchen. “Doc wanted to see you again in the lab. Your latest tests were a little off, he wanted to run them again.”
“Off how?” Callan frowned. The monthly tests had never been off.
Sherra shrugged. “The glands along your tongue appear enlarged.” Callan ran the side of his tongue over his teeth, frowning at the slight difference in the feel of them.
Nothing to worry about, it had happened before.
“Maybe I’m catching a cold or something.” He shrugged.
“Heart rate, adrenaline, semen and blood tests are off too. Could be the equipment, but he wants more samples just to be on the safe side.”
“Damn. We need new equipment already?” He sighed. “That shit costs, Sherra.”
“Keeps us sane though,” Sherra reminded him as he pulled a bottle of water from the refrigerator. “Go keep him happy, you know how cranky he gets if a test gets off. He ‘bout went crazy last year when Taber’s went haywire, remember?”
Hell yes, he remembered. Taber had been half crazy during that year too. Irritable to the point that he was almost savage. He disappeared for days at a time, no excuses, no apologies.
“Yeah, I remember a cool half million disappearing from the account for the updated machines too.” Callan grimaced. “Dammit, he’s going to have to take better care of his toys. That was just a year ago.” Sherra grinned, her nose wrinkling, the sharp pout of her lips smoothing out with the smile.
“Better go let him have more samples then, just to be sure,” she urged him. “We don’t want him purchasing new equipment on a whim.”
Callan shook his head, heading quickly to the underground cavern where the lab was located. It wasn’t the most perfect place to keep their secrets, but it worked. The cool atmosphere wasn’t as damp as most caverns were, it was dry and solid, with a steady underground well and easy access from the house.
Doc enjoyed the place and it made it easier to keep their lives secret.
“More tests,” he muttered. “I need those like I need this hard cock aggravating the fuck outta me.” He would have taken care of the first problem if it would cooperate with any woman other than the tight-assed journalist stalking him. But no, it wilted like limp lettuce if he even attempted it, then shot up like fire forged steel the second her scent reached him. Inconvenient, to say the least.
The fact that she was the one woman he couldn’t have wasn’t helping matters. He knew the psychology of it. He wanted her more for the very fact that he couldn’t have her. A journalist stalking him was not a good thing. His secrets were many and his survival depended on him keeping them. He kept a low profile, stayed away from town as much as possible and let few people get to know him, which meant there was only one reason why a journalist, especially a Tyler journalist, would be searching for him.
His surrogate mother and her infernal idea that by revealing himself he could attain his freedom was the cause of this. The box she had mailed out to the National Forum and her old college friend, John Tyler, right before her death, hinted at the evidence the man could have. There were notebooks of memos, test results, lab results, DNA sequencing, the whole nine yards needed to bury him, all missing. They had fought over it the night she had been attacked and killed. Argued for hours while the others steered clear of the kitchen where they screamed and cursed like mortal enemies. In the end, she had won though. He had agreed to go with her to New York the minute he was able to pull yet another team of mercenaries off his ass.
He and the others had left to do just that. When they returned they found Maria in the kitchen where they had left her, lying in her own blood. And now, a year later, Merinus Tyler was searching for him.
Which would be okay, he thought, if he could just fuck her and send her on her way. But he had a feeling the tenacity and determination he glimpsed in her expression didn’t leave him much hope for that.
CHAPTER THREE
The Gass Up station, convenience store and diner were all in the same lot. And Callan was there as well.
Merinus pulled into the blacktopped parking area late that afternoon and got out of the SUV slowly as she looked around.
There were half a dozen vehicles parked here and there, several at the gas pumps and one weary looking pickup with its hood raised, waiting to enter the garage section of the station. Taking a deep breath, Merinus moved quickly to the garage section and the lone man standing outside, gazing rather intently at the innards of the old pickup parked there.
The game was fun, but getting old. Still, she was reluctant to be the one to end it. Especially after watching him stroke all that hard, glistening flesh of his hard-on to a serious orgasm. She still hadn’t recovered from that one. Neither had the flesh between her thighs. It wouldn’t stop throbbing, demanding the hard stroke of that broad-headed penis deep inside it.
She took a deep breath anyway and approached the truck cautiously. Today, Callan was dressed in thin faded jeans and T-shirt, a baseball cap covering his hair. She hoped he wasn’t trying for a disguise. If he was, it wasn’t working so well. She had seen him the minute the station had come into view.
“Excuse me, could you tell me where I could find Taber Williams?” Merinus asked him cheerfully, careful to stand well clear of him. Oil marked his gray T-shirt and the snug denim that encased long, muscular legs. Besides, if she got too close, she may not be able to keep her hands out of his jeans. She still hadn’t forgotten the hours past and the sight of all that hard male flesh. But the game was on again.
She didn’t know and he wasn’t telling. Stupid game.
The broad shoulders stiffened, then the head, covered in a red baseball cap turned just slightly, the eyes hidden by dark sunglasses.
“Not here,” he muttered, then turned back to the engine.
So much for small town hospitality, Merinus frowned. He was being rude today. Snarly. Male.
“Do you know where I could find him? Or perhaps leave a message for him?” she asked the wide back.