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Fascination
Samantha Hunter


OBSESSION…?Sage Matthews's fascination with hacking into computers and creating bugs got her into deep trouble. Just ask special agent Ian Chandler, who handcuffed the fiery redhead–and has been monitoring her every sexy teasing move since.POSSESSION…?Ian has now formed his own crack crime-busting team–The HotWires. His first case? None other than Sage, fresh off probation, but seemingly up to her old tricks. Ian's hot on her tail, but his plans backfire one sultry steamy night.REDEMPTION…?He tangles with Sage between the sheets–breaking every rule in his personal code of honor. And he's about to break a few more as his gut instinct tells him she's been framed again–and only he can prove her innocence….









You couldn’t be arrested for flirting, could you…?


Sage slid her hand along Ian’s forearm, catching her breath at the hardness of the muscle there. Ian was no desk jockey.

“My time is almost up. I’ll be a responsible member of society again. There’s nothing to say you and I can’t have a more personal relationship, right?”

Ian’s head snapped up at her touch and his eyes took on an intense expression. Sage pulled back in surprise—she’d never thought he was capable of such heat.

Wowsa. A little frisson of excitement danced along her hot skin at making him lose it. This was fun.

“You’re completely out of line. There’s nothing between us, and you know it.”

“You sure about that?” Laughing, she headed to the doorway, making sure he got an eyeful of her short clingy dress.

He’d buried his heat under that cool unflappable exterior once more and she was intrigued. The sense of challenge that led her to computer hacking—the urge to unlock the forbidden—tugged at Sage now. What fantasies and feelings would she find inside this man?

She waved flirtatiously to Ian as she left. Some challenges were just too good to resist….







Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading the first book of my new HOTWIRES miniseries. In Fascination, rigid, stick-to-the-rules Ian Chandler confronts his forbidden desires concerning sexy computer hacker Sage Matthews—who also happens to be a convicted felon under his watch. If these two are going to make it together, they will have to not only cross the line, but meet in the middle, where the sparks are sure to fly.

Writing my first miniseries has been fraught with challenges and joys, and part of that was getting to create an entire cast of characters whose relationships grow over the course of three books. I’ve become very close to these characters as they have emerged on the page. I hope they will become memorable for you, as well.

Fascination is set in Norfolk, Virginia, at the mouth of the beautiful Chesapeake Bay, so I am donating a percentage of my earnings from this series to conservation projects on the Bay. Check for more details on this, as well as news on the upcoming HOTWIRES books, Friction (Jan 2006) and Flirtation (Feb 2006), as well as contests and news at my Web site, www.samanthahunter.com.

Warm wishes,

Samantha Hunter




Fascination

Samantha Hunter







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


For Mike, with love.

To my family and in-laws for all their constant support and enthusiasm about my writing—you all make it fun, and I appreciate you bragging about me!

And for my mom, Dorothy, who had her birthday at Christmas, when this book is being released. I miss you, but I hear you cheering me on every day.




Contents


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14




1


“SO DID YOU STAY OUT OF trouble this month, Sage?”

Sage Matthews held Ian Chandler’s steady gray-eyed gaze for a long moment and pursed her lips, as if she had to think carefully before speaking. She looked down at the drink she held in her hand, slipped the straw between her cherry-red lips and sucked slowly, drawing her cheeks in so that her mouth formed a sexy pout around the plastic, closing her eyes as the cool burst of carbonation hit her throat. She released the straw and caught a stray bit of fizz with her tongue before answering.

“Exactly what kind of trouble would you be referring to, Ian?” Her soft southeastern Virginia accent added a lilt of mischief to her sultry purr.

Ian sighed, his full, gorgeous lips drawing into a tight, impatient line, and Sage felt a little spark of satisfaction. Ian might be the sexiest man she’d ever met, but she fought any attraction she’d ever felt because he was also a huge, unforgivable thorn in her side.

Sure, he was only doing his job, but for five years he’d controlled almost every aspect of her life. Annoying him—and teasing him—was one of the few ways she had to wrestle that control back into her hands. It was a small advantage, true, but she made the most of it.

It was an additional benefit that the air-conditioning in the Norfolk Police Department, where Ian had his new office—part of the new job he was leaving his post as a federal agent for—was on the fritz. The sweltering August heat created a fine film of sweat on her skin, making her thin tank dress cling to her, leaving little to the imagination. Sage didn’t want to be subtle. She wanted federal agent Ian Chandler, who specialized in computer crime, to sweat.

She hadn’t worn anything underneath the light shift because she was more comfortable that way but also because she was going to see Ian for her monthly check-in. The more to tempt you with, she thought devilishly. Sage didn’t really want Ian, she just wanted to torture him with what he couldn’t have. She slid a glance over his handsome features. She had a weakness for dark-haired men. Ian was a sexy guy. Too bad he was a cop.

But just five more days and she would be free of Ian for good. And hopefully free of a past that had been holding her back for too long. Her sentence for the computer crimes she’d been arrested for almost five years ago was nearly over. Ian Chandler was the federal agent who’d arrested her and he’d been assigned to “monitor her progress” throughout her sentence.

What that really meant was that he had the right to invade every corner of her life, watch her constantly, ask her anything he wanted and pry into every detail of her activities. If he caught her doing anything he thought broke the rules, he could throw her in jail. No questions asked.

It rankled her that he had so much power over her life, though she’d learned to live with it. Sage was determined never to give him the satisfaction of catching her slipping up—or any kind of satisfaction, for that matter. But he couldn’t arrest her for flirting.

Not that he’d ever expressed interest. Ian was the epitome of straight and narrow. It wasn’t in his nature to break the rules or back off from enforcing them. She tempted him incessantly, knowing he would never cross the line. But that fact only made pushing the limits all the more enjoyable.

She got up out of the chair and sat on the corner of his very organized desk. The room was clean as a whistle, the chrome gleaming, the windows sparkling clear. Everything was exactly in its place, and Sage pushed a neatly stacked pile of papers carelessly to the side as she made room for herself. She leaned over to throw her empty paper cup in the garbage can, not-so-subtly inviting him to take a peek at what was revealed by the slight sag of her neckline as she did so.

He just looked away.

She smiled and crossed one slender leg over the other, swinging it as if to some unheard song playing in her head, and picked up a pen to play with between her nimble, tanned fingers.

“Oh, you know I’ve been good, Ian. I’m always good.”

Sexual innuendo aside, she had been good—not that she had much choice. As much as she liked to mess with Ian, she had no desire to end up in prison, so she’d also played it straight and narrow, as contrary as that was to her nature. There was no way she was going to lose what precious little freedom she had. She’d been a fool for a man once, which was what had gotten her into this mess in the first place. She wasn’t about to do it again.

The first eighteen months of her sentence had been pure hell—house arrest, ensured by a nasty ankle bracelet that she could have removed herself within an hour if doing so wouldn’t have landed her directly in a cement cage.

It seemed extreme for simply letting a virus out on the Net—especially when she had been duped into doing it. Not that anyone would believe her. Technically she had released it, but the fact that she had no idea what was on the disk she’d slipped into the computer that day didn’t matter.

She’d told the one of the investigators who’d questioned her that she hadn’t written the virus, but he’d clearly thought she was just trying to slip the rap. And she hadn’t been able to prove otherwise; even to her own eyes the evidence was damning. Locke, the hacker who had set her up, had made sure of that.

The worst of it was that she’d been banned from any use of computers for five long years, a heavy price to pay, though it was better than prison. The judge had made use of flexible federal sentencing guidelines and had been cruelly creative.

If Sage was so much as seen near a computer, even in a store, or if she attempted to contact her hacker friends from college, she would go to prison. She wasn’t allowed to own or use anything even remotely computerized, not even a cell phone. Ian was the man who’d tracked her down in the first place and he was in charge of making sure she minded her p’s and q’s. Sage had never been one much for p’s and q’s.

Ian’s interference in her life had been considerable—she had to check in with him monthly; he’d stopped by her home unannounced, checked out her house and her habits, checked on her classes when she was in school and later would discuss her with her boss and coworkers at the plumbing store where she currently worked.

She had even caught him going through her mail on a couple of occasions. She’d never felt safe talking on the phone, though most of her conversations were innocuous—she didn’t have many friends, as most of them had been computer junkies just like her. The loss of control over her own privacy was the worst punishment anyone could have concocted, sometimes overwhelming her.

No part of her life had been safe from Ian’s prying. Once she’d been kissing a date good-night in front of her apartment and had found out later that Ian had run a background check on him. She’d discovered this at her monthly meeting when Ian had asked her not to see the guy again because he had a drunk-driving record. She’d railed against the unfairness of it, not that it could change anything.

Since then she’d stayed away from men, except for Ian. Eying him speculatively, she spoke again, “Ian, there’s something I wanted to ask you.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, I am almost done with my time. I’ll be a free and responsible member of society again within the week. And since you’ll be starting a brand-new position and you won’t be a federal agent anymore, you won’t be held back by those silly ole rules that say you and I can’t have a more personal relationship, right? So maybe we could—”

She reached over a little farther and slid her hand over his forearm, catching her breath at the hardness of the muscle there, and pursed her lips appreciatively—Ian was not just a desk jockey. The same crisp, black hair that he wore nearly military-short was sprinkled over his skin, and she wondered how it would feel to tangle her fingers in it over his chest and in other places….

Ian’s head snapped up at her touch. His eyes weren’t cold or distant now, but they were definitely pissed off. She bit her lip, partially because his reaction nearly sent her rocketing off the desk and back into her chair and partially because she’d never thought he was capable of such heat. Did it all just come from anger? Or was there more to it? Right now those irises were dark as slate, and she felt herself falling into them, forgetting the moment at hand, where she was, who he was.

Wowsa.

She’d never really seen him angry. Usually he was just aloof. A little frisson of excitement danced along her hot skin at making him lose it, if just a little. Now, this was fun. He yanked his arm from under her hand and pushed his chair back, distancing them.

“I don’t have to tell you that kind of behavior is completely out of line. There’s nothing between us and you know it. And there never will be. I think it’s time for you to go.”

She just laughed and got down from the desk, walking slowly around the office, posing in the doorway while turning to look at him, turning on full vixen mode.

“You sure about that?”

“Dead sure. I’ll see you next week at your release hearing. Behave yourself until then.”

He’d sucked that heat right back in and buried it under the cool, unflappable exterior once again. But now she was intrigued. All of a sudden the sense of challenge that had led her to computer hacking in the first place—the urge to find your way into somewhere forbidden, to solve an unsolvable puzzle—tugged at her.

What would it be like to try to get behind those straight-and-narrow walls that encased Ian so securely? What would be the key that would allow her access to what lay behind them? What would she find there, inside the man who always seemed so tightly under control?

She smiled, waving flirtatiously to Ian as she left the office. What the courts didn’t realize is that you didn’t get rid of a hacker by taking away their computer—hacking was a way of life, a philosophy, a way of thinking. And some challenges were just too good to resist.



“ANY LUCK YET?”

Ian looked up to see Marty Constantine standing in his doorway and shook his head noncommittally. “We’ll see. Have the first interview today.”

“When do you think the team will be up and running?”

Ian sat back in his chair, stretching and leveling a look at the man who was both his close friend and his immediate superior. He’d worked frequently with Marty over the years in his position with the FBI and Ian had nothing but respect for the man.

Though nothing had ever been said, Ian knew that Marty was the reason he had been offered this cherry opportunity so early in his career. It was fairly unusual to move from the federal government to local law enforcement.

Ian had spent the past ten years working on the FBI’s Computer Crime Task Force. Fresh out of grad school at the green age of twenty-three, he’d worked his way up through the ranks. But even so, it would have been another few years before anything like this would have been handed to him at the federal level, if ever.

He’d lived his job. It had cost him friends. It had cost him his marriage. It was also the one thing in his life he was good at and it was his number one priority. His dedication had paid off, if not personally then professionally.

He’d jumped at the chance to create his own investigation team, even though it was a small team in a small department in a medium-size city. Norfolk, the site of the largest Navy base in the United States, had a huge government presence.

Local businesses and citizens were suffering increasing financial losses due to a spike in the number of computer crimes. These were situations street cops and even detectives weren’t normally trained to handle, so computer-crime labs were being set up in cities all over the country these days, and Norfolk had finally found room in the budget to do likewise.

And thanks to Marty Constantine, Ian had been asked to get the project off the ground. Hopefully it would keep him in one place for a while. Working for the federal government had him chasing felons all over the map. Where trouble went, so went the FBI.

In his new position as team leader he might even see his own bed for more than a few nights a month. With any luck, maybe he’d find someone to share it once in a while. Women weren’t exactly interested in someone who worked long hours, was gone at the drop of a hat and didn’t know when he would be back.

“Hard to say. Could be within the month, or within the week.”

“What’s the problem?”

“Lots of applicants, but only a few stood out. I’m looking for a certain kind of person—expert, flexible, experienced. Since it’s a small team, I need people with some chops.”

“It’s up to you, but this is a pretty high-profile project. Taxpayers’ money and all that. Let’s make sure it works.”

“It’ll work.”

Marty nodded. “Things tied up at the agency yet? No pressure—we appreciate you coming in and getting started here a little sooner than scheduled.”

“No problem, Mart. I have a few things left to finish. Shouldn’t be a big deal.”

“Like what?”

“You remember the LadyBug case?”

“Of course—it was one of the first big feathers in your cap, bringing her in. Sage Matthews. How’s she doing? I still remember the pictures from the news. Man, she was a hot one, huh? Even looked good in handcuffs.”

Ian sighed deeply, rolling his eyes. “She’s at the end of her sentence. Her release hearing is next week, so I’m just finishing up on that. One more trip to court and I’ll send her on her way, fill out some paperwork with the agency, then I’m all yours.”

“Good. I’m looking forward to meeting the new team members when you have them lined up.”

“I have someone coming in any minute now.”

“Who is he?”

“She. Sarah T. Jessup. She’s driving down from New York for the interview. We’ve used her from time to time as a freelance consultant.”

“Otherwise meaning an informant?” Ian could detect the skepticism in Marty’s voice—informants were not exactly the cream of the crop in police circles—but Sarah was operating on a different level.

“A good one. She’s offered us first-rate information over the years with no expectation of compensation or recognition. She has managed to dig out things on the Net that we wouldn’t have found, she can go places we can’t. She’s been…useful.”

“Is she cute?”

Ian sent a disparaging look in Marty’s direction. “This is a job interview for HotWires, Marty, not a dating service. Try to drag yourself up into the twenty-first century. Besides, I have no idea if she’s cute or not—we’ve only communicated online and over the phone.”

“Hey, I’m just thinking good thoughts for you, buddy. The national statistics say the median age for a second marriage is thirty-four. At thirty-three and counting, you are ripe for the plucking, the way I see it.”

Marty grinned, clearly knowing he was pushing Ian’s buttons and appearing to be thoroughly enjoying it. Ian stemmed his gut-level response, keeping his buttons in check.

“Statistics lie. I have no plans to rush into remarrying.”

“Rush? Um, yeah, it’s been a little more than five years since the divorce, bud. You’re a real wild man with the rushing. National stats say that most men remarry within four years—”

“Marty—”

“I’m just saying. Maybe Sarah T. Jessup will be the one to make you a statistically viable member of society again.”

Ian shook his head and took a long drink of water. He had no intention of gracing that comment with a response. Sarah Jessup could look like a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model, but as far as Ian was concerned it made no difference—work and sex never mixed. All he cared about was how good she was at her job.

He was curious about her, though. Using the online name TigerLily, she had a reputation as a major computer junkie—a hacker in the most positive sense of the term. Not all hackers were criminals. In fact, the major proportion of people who called themselves hackers were upstanding citizens. Criminal hackers took otherwise creative and essential computer skills and used them recklessly to do harm or for their own gain.

Then there were hackers, like Sage and her friend Locke, who called themselves “hacktivists”—hackers who used destructive hacking methods as a form of social protest, attacking the computer systems of multinational corporations and major polluters and the like.

Unfortunately the attacks these groups waged often ended up hurting a wider spectrum of people than the organizations they targeted. Hacktivists were still often criminal hackers, as Ian saw it—you couldn’t start letting politics be an excuse for committing crimes.

Sarah was an example of a legal hacker, someone who was just damned talented with a computer and who had no intention of breaking the law. She had become a self-appointed informant for the feds, tracking down Internet porn rings in her spare time, sending Ian what she found. It was a weird hobby, but the info she’d shared had led to several busts.

Ian knew that Sarah had an incomplete college degree and no formal police training, but those things could be dealt with. She had several part-time jobs, lived in a low-cost apartment in the city. He was willing to bet she probably spent more money on computer equipment than food. But she knew her stuff and stayed on the right side of the law, and that’s what he was looking for. He trusted his gut about people more than he trusted pieces of paper anyway. He just had a feeling about her.

Taking a deep breath, Ian furrowed his brow in irritation as he detected the slightly spicy fragrance Sage had worn earlier today still lingering in the otherwise musty air of his office. His hand clenched tightly around the plastic bottle as he felt the familiar wave of desire hit, followed by the dulling sense of frustration.

Sage was a criminal hacker, someone off-limits to him even if only for the next few days. She was the last connection to his old life, and when this gig was over he would cut her loose and forget about her.

Yeah, right. Even though he’d carefully guarded against it, Sage had become more than just another case. He replayed the moment her hand moved over the skin of his arm and felt a flash of heat—he could still feel it, her soft skin on his. Her long fingers touching him just for that short moment. Her nails, ragged and bitten to the quick, were painted with red polish, and he found that was amazingly sexy, because it was on her. That she would wear such a bold color on her short nails was also indicative of Sage—she just didn’t accept limitations. Not easily anyway. And she tempted him every chance she got.

He was tempted, no doubt about that. What red-blooded man could have Sage in front of him for years, issuing invitations left and right, and not at least think about it? But red-blooded as he might be, Ian’s sense of self-discipline was fierce.

It also helped that he knew the come-ons and flirting were just her way of punishing him, of exacting some small bit of revenge for how he’d invaded her life. She didn’t really want him, she just wanted to get back at him. He was just doing his job and he reminded himself of that every time he let himself think how good she smelled.

There was just something about her that he’d known from the start was going to be trouble. One look into those stubborn green eyes when they’d first met, and a part of him knew she could cause trouble for him as no other woman had. Her wildly curly red hair cinched it. She was like a flame, dancing around him, always just out of reach.

He just had to hold strong. And he had.

Five more days.

It was his duty to keep tight tabs on her, and he had, but maybe he’d put in a little more time than usual. He told himself it was because she couldn’t be trusted, because he couldn’t drop the ball for one minute with her. He knew the type. They were like drug addicts with computers and were bound to cave sooner or later. But she never did, at least as far as he knew. Still, he watched. Carefully. And he would to the very end.

Marty took another bite from the apple in his hand, the crisp crack of the fruit snapping loudly in the quiet office, breaking the spell of Ian’s thoughts. He cleared his throat. “Sorry. Lots on my mind. Anyway, Jessup’s due in here in a few minutes, so I have to get ready.”

Marty smiled and saluted. “Gotcha. Let me know how it goes.”

Ian watched Marty leave and sighed as his friend nearly collided with a woman who appeared in the doorway—an incredibly tall, voluptuous, sable-haired Amazon with blue eyes that grabbed aggressively onto Ian’s and didn’t let go. Dressed in tight black jeans and a leather jacket—not exactly job interview attire—she didn’t disappoint his expectations. Sarah wasn’t your typical computer geek—she looked like hell on wheels.

Ian raised an eyebrow as Marty shook his fingers in a “too hot” gesture behind Jessup’s head as he moved past her into the hallway—something she shouldn’t have seen but did. Turning slowly, she fixed an icy-blue stare on Marty until he smiled feebly and slinked away.

Ian liked her already.




2


SAGE SAT NERVOUSLY IN the small lounge, the folder containing her résumé—her very thin résumé—clasped in her hands. The appointment for her interview had been more than thirty minutes ago, but she was willing to wait—she needed a new job, a real job, something that would allow her to move forward in life.

When she’d seen the classified ad for a security consultant, her heart had leaped—plenty of hackers, even those who had been on the wrong side of the law, became high-level security consultants. It was like hiring a reformed thief to help you make sure your house was secure. She figured she stood as much of a chance at the job as anyone.

But as time passed, her confidence was evaporating. The other applicants looked younger than she was, were male and their folders appeared to be much thicker than hers. Most had laptops with them or at least Blackberrys or PDAs. Probably none of them had felony convictions.

Was she nuts? There was no way a reputable company like this was going to hire someone like her.

Swallowing the lump of anger and despair that had suddenly formed in her throat, she left the room with as much dignity as she could manage, passing by the other applicants, who barely spared her a glance. Well, goody for them, she thought belligerently. Boring bunch of yuppie wannabes anyhow.

Except she wanted to be one, too. Wanted to be normal, to have a real life. Wanted to be respected for her talents. Wanted to be valued and accepted. She wanted to show her family that she could be a success, even though she had let them down in so many other ways.

Walking out into the stifling summer air, she yanked off the conservative gray blazer she’d spent way too much money on for the interview. Her hopes had been too high when she’d received the phone call responding to her application—an application conspicuously missing any hint of her conviction. She’d figured it would be better to try to explain that in person. Ha. What had she been thinking? She was just glad to have left before she’d gone in there and humiliated herself.

Lifting her face up, the strong rays of the midday sun felt like a kiss on her skin. The sky was clear and bright, but when she looked forward and tried to see her future, it was just a gray blur, on the personal as well as the professional front.

Regardless of the games she played with Ian, there hadn’t been many men in her life. Not many decent guys were turned on by a woman who had been convicted of a felony. Those who were weren’t the kind of men she wanted to know. How much of that would change when she was free?

Standing in the middle of the sidewalk, she let the warmth soothe her until a pointed wolf whistle had her glaring at the source and continuing on her way. She walked down the sweltering city sidewalk to the waterfront, gazing out at the Elizabeth River—Lizzie, as the residents called it. She leaned over the rail that ran the length of the park and led down to the Nautilus naval museum, the gigantic battleship, the USS Wisconsin, looming above the museum building.

It was a perfect day—the waters were smooth and green, and dolphins were frolicking out in the river as they often did, drawing amazed stares and the clicking of tourist cameras. Turning from the rail, she headed toward the hot dog stand in search of some lunch and companionship.

She’d taken the day off from the shop to go to the interview, so there was nothing else on her schedule. She’d given her two weeks notice anyway—motivation for getting a better job—but now she thought maybe she had been a little hasty in that decision. Feeling down, she knew just how to lighten her spirits. As she approached the stand, she heard the gruff laugh she loved filling the air around her.

“Hey, Ray.”

“Sage! My favorite girl. Woooo, look at you! All dressed up today!” The older black man leaned over and whispered conspiratorially, “Did we have a date and I forgot?”

Sage laughed, her mood brightening at the sound of his voice. She responded, her voice playful.

“No, you never ask me out. I’m still waiting. You’re my guy, Ray, you know that.” She planted a solid kiss on his rough cheek and Ray howled again. He handed her a hot dog with everything on it—just the way she liked it—and a cola.

She sat down on the cement-block wall behind the stand, munching while Ray served some customers. He’d been around as far back as she could remember. Her parents had taken her and her sister to lunch at the park every week when she was little. That’s when she’d met Ray. He’d become a good friend and a sort of honorary uncle.

She’d continued to come by at least once a week until her arrest. The eighteen months at the beginning of her sentence, when she had been confined to home arrest, had been the hardest of her life for many reasons, but one of those was because she never got to visit Ray.

Helping himself to a hot dog, he sat next to her, took a bite, then spoke. “So what has you down here all dressed up, li’l girl? You should be working, huh?”

She nodded, swiping some mustard from her chin with her pinkie and sucking it from the end of her finger. “Yeah. I took the day off. Had a job interview.”

“Hey! Good news! You’re almost done. You have to come down here and celebrate on the day.”

Sage smiled, but then it faded. “You bet. But free is a relative term, isn’t it, Ray? I’ve reached the end of my sentence, but I feel like it will never really be over. I can’t escape the past.” She knew she sounded sorry for herself in spades, but she couldn’t help it.

Surprisingly Ray laughed again, and she looked up, popping the last big of dog into her mouth. He shook his head.

“Well, you know, girl, I made my own mistakes an’ been where you are. Been in worse. You have a college degree. I never had none of that, but it’s no matter. We can do whatever we want. We make our own luck.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Depends on what you tryin’ to do, don’t it? You just gotta find the right thing, that’s all.” He cleared his throat and patted her arm. “Don’t worry too much. I had a hard time, too, when I got out. People’ll forget, it just takes a while. I kept at it, got enough odd jobs to get myself a cart and found myself a spot to sell lunch. Before you know it I had this stand, right here in this pretty park. No one else is allowed to have their stands here, the city said, just me. The mayor himself. Imagine that.”

Sage smiled and nodded quietly, having heard the story a thousand times. She always enjoyed how Ray’s face lit up with pride when he told it. But he’d only told her about his time in jail after she’d been arrested and become too ashamed to come around to see him. So he’d come to see her and told her he understood.

He’d never told her why he’d been sent up, but she just knew there was no way this gentle man had ever hurt anyone or anything. She never asked. He never judged, so she didn’t either.

“I just want a normal life, Ray. A good job. You know, the regular stuff.”

“Mebbe you aren’t cut out for regular, missy. You’re special. You just have to find your place. Just don’t plan on coming down here and tryin’ to edge old Ray out with your own stand.” He laughed again, and she couldn’t help but join in.

“No worries there, Ray. I wouldn’t even try to compete with you. Everyone knows you’re the best.”

She threw her arms around him in a tight hug. Looking past his shoulder, she stiffened suddenly, her eyes widening as she saw a familiar figure coming into view.

Locke stood at the edge of the park, watching her. She hadn’t seen him since before her arrest. She thought she might be seeing things and blinked, but he was still there. A cold feeling spread up from the base of her spine. Slipping out of Ray’s hug, she studied Locke, her heart in her throat. What was he doing here? Why now?



IAN LIFTED A STEAMING cup of coffee to his lips as he reviewed Sarah Jessup’s résumé and his interview notes from the previous day. He believed he might be looking at the first new member of his team.

True, her formal qualifications were a little light, but she could talk the talk and she was more than a little interested. There were lots of people out there with the right education, the right experience, but she had passion. There was a sharpness, an electricity about her that he liked. She knew computers inside and out and she was a born cop whether she knew it or not. He’d wondered why she never pursued a career in law enforcement and had to suppress a grin when she’d told him she’d thought about it but didn’t like the uniforms. She’d been relieved to know the HotWires weren’t required to wear them.

The lady had talent, but she also had secrets. He had seen the slightest flicker in her eyes when he’d mentioned doing a background check. When he’d asked her if there was anything she needed to tell him about, she’d closed up like a clam. He would have to see what that was about before hiring her, but he trusted his gut that she was one of the people he was looking for.

There was also no denying that she was, as Marty had made a fool out of himself noticing, pretty damned hot—a fact that left Ian cold. He couldn’t drum up an even mildly sexual thought about Sarah Jessup, whose ample curves and chocolate-brown hair should have at least inspired one. This was doubly annoying because his mind kept wandering back to Sage’s silky copper curls.

Ian couldn’t seem to get Sage out of his head. He didn’t like being distracted, and that fact urged him to either get the hell away from her or to take her up on what she was offering, to get her out of his system. He was dangerously close to the latter. What would she do if he did? How would she react? Was it all an act on her part or did she really desire him?

He slammed on the mental brakes. No sense going there. He’d gotten out of his office thinking a change of venue would freshen his mind and help him concentrate, but thoughts of Sage followed him wherever he went. It was well and good that it was almost over. Four more days.

He’d taken his laptop and set up at a table in a local waterfront coffee shop for the afternoon. It was a perk that he could avoid the office when he wanted to. He watched groups of tourists file out of the tour boats. A large cruise ship was moored in the background. Even from a distance the ship appeared enormous. His parents took several cruises each year, but he’d never been on one, preferring to spend his weeks off fishing with his brothers at their camp in Maine.

His mom and dad had both been career Navy until they’d retired the year before last. His dad had been a commander who had worked on submarines since he was seventeen; he’d spent the last twenty years as captain of his own boat. Ian’s mom had been a nurse who’d eventually found her way onto the big ships, as well. And now they took their vacations on boats. Ian didn’t understand it, but to each their own.

He sighed, realizing he wouldn’t be taking another vacation for a while. He should contact his brothers—Jim, who was older, and Gabe, who was younger—and see if they could at least grab a weekend sometime soon before all of his time got sucked up by getting the new team up and running. Squinting out the window, his gaze gravitated toward someone too familiar.

Sage.

She was standing with the hot-dog-stand guy she visited every week. At this time of day, though, he would have expected her to be at work. He made a mental note to check out why she wasn’t.

The old guy, Ray, had been convicted on charges of bank robbery back in the sixties, but from what Ian could tell when he’d read over the case, it had been a bad bust. Ray had been hung out to dry more or less because he was convenient—caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. There wouldn’t have been much interest in finding justice for a poor black man back then. Sage seemed very fond of him.

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 was, 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.

“Maybe you need to keep looking then.”

He pulled her against him, kissing her hungrily as he walked them both back to the sofa, only lifting his head as he pushed her back and stood over her.

“Oh, I intend to, sweetheart. Remember, you have no say in the matter. I can do anything I want. Look anywhere I want.”

Her heart pounded in response to his words. The control he had over her life that she’d hated since the first day she’d met him suddenly felt incredibly erotic. He’d told her before he’d touched her that he wouldn’t force her to do anything she didn’t want, but now she couldn’t think of anything she didn’t want him to do.

He knelt down, sliding a hand up her thigh. “In fact, I wonder what you might be hiding right…here.”

His fingers skimmed just underneath the hem of her shorts, and the muscles of her leg quivered in response. She stayed very still, letting the sensations ride over her, never letting her gaze move from his. His eyes darkened again as his fingers moved farther up underneath the material, scraping lightly against her soft curls, and she inhaled sharply, as did he.

“No panties. I’ll have to make a note about that on the report.”

“Uh-huh.” She couldn’t think as he petted her and she tested herself, staying as still as could be.

“Don’t you want to move against me, sweetheart?”

“Yes.”

“But you won’t?”

“No.”

“I want you to.”

“I know.”

He chuckled again and leaned over her, pushing her shirt up with his other hand and closing his lips around her turgid nipple, sucking lightly as his fingers found their way between the damp folds of her sex, pressing intimately against her. She trembled, panting hard, but didn’t move as her body was overtaken by the building pleasure his ministrations were causing.

Ian moved his mouth all over her, leaving wet kisses all over her breasts and stomach as his thumb massaged her clit. She cried out in need but remained still.

“I may need to take a closer look.”

Her voice was thready, coming in pants as he pulled her shorts off in one hard tug.

“I…figured…as…much….”

As he settled between her legs and swiped his tongue over her delicate skin, pushed his fingers deeply inside of her, she couldn’t hold out. He’d won and she didn’t care.

Arching back, she bucked against him, letting the quick release pour through her like liquid fire, chanting his name.

Still shuddering, she sat up slightly, and he hooked one of her legs over the back of the sofa, spreading her widely as his mouth closed over her again, sucking and lapping at her until she dug her hands into his hair and pressed him more tightly against her. Crying out, she rocked into him as she came again, animal sounds bursting from her unbidden as she forgot everything but the suffusing pleasure that he gave her.

“Oh, God…Ian…” She lapsed back against the back of the sofa again, spent, sweating and exhausted though he didn’t join her but simply continued to kiss and stroke until she felt like melted butter.

Tiny residual orgasms flew from the ends of his fingertips through her body until she couldn’t even think. Eventually he lifted up next to her and covered her mouth in a scorching kiss that tasted like her own sex. Then the kiss gentled and he eased back, looking at her.

Somewhere in the foggy recesses of her mind she realized he hadn’t sought any satisfaction for himself and she smiled in anticipation of correcting that oversight. Once she had her energy back, she would show him two could play this game. Right now she was utterly slack. She wanted to say something, but she didn’t even know what. Words were lost to her.

Ian sat on the floor, his hand absently stroking the damp hair that clung to her forehead, and she swallowed a sudden lump of emotion clogging her throat. She hadn’t experienced a lot of tenderness from men in her life, and this little bit from Ian slayed her. She couldn’t see his expression, but his touch was gentle. She let her eyelids drop but opened them again, for a second fighting the drowsiness that overcame her. Then she just gave in.



IAN SAT IN THE CHAIR across from where Sage still slept soundly, watching her. He’d made a big mistake, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Of the women he’d known, he’d never tasted passion as he had with Sage. Even though he’d kept himself tightly controlled, her responses had nearly pushed him over the edge.

All he really regretted was that it could never happen again. He would never know what it would be like to lose himself in her body and he half wished he had taken her completely the night before. But it was too late for that now.

He watched her shift on the sofa. She looked so innocent, her face peaceful in sleep, her head a mass of tangled curls that were just as silky as he had imagined. She’d be awake soon—he could tell she was making the slow rise to consciousness.

Guilt pricked at him. His plan had worked. She’d fallen deeply asleep, freeing him to search her place thoroughly, and he’d found what he sought. The envelope lay in his lap. He’d read the letter from the man named Locke, the man he’d seen the day before. Obviously an old lover. Obviously trouble.

She looked too young, too chaste in sleep to be the cause of so much chaos in his life. But he knew she was far from innocent. He studied her, knowing she was still half naked under the sheet he’d tucked around her. The scents and flavors of her skin, of her sex, from the night before swamped him, and he clenched his fist on the edge of the chair. He’d do his job. He’d take her in. And then he’d move on.

Her lithe body bowed in a stretching yawn and then her eyes popped open. She was momentarily confused, and he watched as she remembered. Her eyes closed again, a smile forming. He felt a jab in his gut—was she smiling at the memory of what he’d done to her or at how she thought she’d fooled him?

Her head twisted, and she saw him sitting there. At first there was warmth in her eyes, but the second her gaze landed on the envelope on the table next to him, she snapped from sleepiness to panicked wakefulness.

Bolting straight up on the sofa, her face burned when she realized she was still nude from the waist down, and she clutched the sheet around her. The sight of her bare skin made Ian’s pulse jump, but just for a moment. He schooled his voice to be cool and casual.

“Good morning. Sleep well?”

She lunged for the envelope. He snatched it first and faced her fury calmly.

“You bastard!” He raised an eyebrow as she stormed, several creative curses spewing from her well-kissed lips.

“Oh, tut, tut, sweetheart. Not much of a morning-after person, are you?”

“How dare you?”

He felt his hackles rise at her indignant tone, but remained cool.

“How dare I what?”

As she paced, tears filled her eyes.

“How dare you do…what you did! Just to trick me so you could search my place! You’re slime. You’re worse than slime.”

Ian just chuckled. “Oh, c’mon, sweetheart. Like you weren’t doing the same thing with the same intentions? It was pretty obvious you were willing to do just about anything to keep me from searching that room. I wanted to see exactly how far you’d take it.”

“I’m going to report you.”

He just shook his head. “There’s nothing to report. I didn’t coerce you, I didn’t force you, I didn’t threaten you. What happened happened because you wanted it to.” He saw her face flame with humiliation and softened his tone slightly. “And because I wanted it to, as well.”

She shook her head, obviously distraught, and sank to the couch. He steeled himself against any emotional reaction and tried to remember who he was dealing with. For all the wounded innocence, she was playing him as much as he was playing her. And probably had been for a while.

“I want to know what’s going on. Then you’re getting dressed and we’re heading down to the station.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t want to go to prison.”

“Not up to me. We’ll have to see what the judge says.”

“Ian, you have to believe me. You know I’ve done well. I don’t deserve this. He just left it for me, I didn’t know….” She stood up and closed the distance between them, her expression desperate. He felt a small sliver of doubt and ignored it.

“I saw the whole thing. I saw the drop. I saw you get the package. You’re obviously involved in something. Something you shouldn’t be. I’m just amazed you couldn’t wait a few more days, but I guess the thrill of pulling it off right under my nose must have been too tempting, huh?”

She stared at him in shock. “You were there the whole time?”

He nodded. “It was a coincidence but a lucky one.” He smiled harshly. “Though not for you and your friend, I guess.”

The next thing he felt was her hand slamming into his face and he shook his head in amazement—it didn’t quite knock him back but almost. Damn if she didn’t have a good right hook, and now she was planning to use it again. He stopped her fist midswing this time and threw her arm back at her side.

“Should I add assaulting an officer?” He didn’t even think she heard him, she was that furious.

“You rotten son of a bitch! You had it all planned! You planned to come here, to use me and then to arrest me! You’re disgusting! No matter what I’ve ever done, it’s nothing compared to what you did last night!”

She was crying, nearly hysterical with anger, and he grabbed her, pinning his arms tightly around hers, holding her next to him to avoid being hit as much as anything else. He squeezed her more tightly as she struggled, and finally she calmed but wouldn’t meet his eyes. He spoke, his breath moving next to her ear, which unaccountably he had to steel himself against tasting.

“No. I didn’t plan it. I never planned on touching you, ever, though God knows you’ve tempted me long enough. Last night just…happened. Though I’ll admit I used the opportunity to search your house and I’m glad I did. But I didn’t come here with the intention of seducing you.”

She looked at him then, still indignant, and he felt anger push the words out of him. “Though from the looks of that letter, sweetheart, you’re hardly one to be calling me out on the moral carpet. You’re involved with this guy, but it didn’t stop you from letting me have you last night, did it? Though maybe Locke doesn’t care as long as you’re doing your part for the cause, huh?”

He expected her to explode, but instead she went slack. Her head dropped forward, and he rolled his eyes, shaking her lightly.

“Cut the melodrama, darlin’.”

She looked up, white as a sheet, her eyes almost black, and he experienced genuine concern. He’d gone too far.

“Okay, listen, I’m sorry for that last crack. I shouldn’t have made this personal.”

Nothing. No response.

“Can you stand if I let you go?”

She nodded vaguely, and he had no sooner loosened his arms around her than she pulled back and punched him in the gut. When he doubled over, she lunged for the package again, but he blocked her and grabbed her wrist in the process. She fought tooth and nail.

“Stop it now or I’ll cuff you. I mean it. I’ll take you down physically if you make me.”

She froze at that and turned on him, her eyes blazing.

“No one—no one—treats me like that.”

Ian felt a little stirring of admiration and quelled it. “Fair enough. So you’ll tell me about this?” He tapped the envelope.

“Yes. But I don’t know much.”

He arched his eyebrow doubtfully and stepped back more carefully this time, making sure she wasn’t coming in for another surprise attack.

“I don’t want to cuff you, but you’re under arrest, and we have to go down to the station.”

She nodded.

“You have to get dressed.”

“May I shower?” Her voice was distant, mechanical.

“I don’t think so. Just get your clothes on and let’s go.”

She walked over to where her shorts lay on the rug and stood for a moment, bending to get them.

“Turn around.”

“Sorry. No can do.”

She laughed then and it pierced him. It was a sad sound.

“Guess you won’t see anything you haven’t seen up close and personal, hmm?”

Quietly he watched her dress and kept his eyes raised as much as he could. When she was more or less put together, he grabbed the envelope and followed her to the door.

Some days his job sucked.




4


SAGE SWALLOWED AS IAN pulled into the parking space in front of the station. She only had one play left and she was willing to do just about anything not to be taken into that building.

She rubbed her icy hands on her shorts, trying to warm them. It was hard to act sexy and calm when you felt like vomiting. She was desperate and didn’t like the idea of what she was about to do, but the idea of going inside that building was making her physically sick. Anything would be better.

Ian opened the door and waited for her to get out. When she did, she did so slowly, swinging her legs out first, then raising herself up to stand just a bit too close to him. She anchored her lower lip between her teeth and looked up at him.

“Ian, I want you to listen to me just for one minute.”

She stepped closer and planted the palm of her hand on his chest. His heart rate increased—she could feel it through the thin material of his shirt. She smiled up into his face, hoping her eyes were seductive instead of mirroring the desperation she was feeling inside. He looked around uncomfortably and pushed her hand away, removing it but not releasing it from his tight grip. His strong hands were warm and felt too good, though his voice was cutting.

“Don’t even try, sweetheart. Don’t lower yourself.” But he wasn’t immune to her closeness or the contact—she could tell. She saw it in his eyes. There was still a chance.

She stepped closer, keeping her voice just above a whisper so that only he could hear. Meeting his gaze head-on, she displayed a confidence she was far from feeling.

“Aren’t you more worried about lowering yourself than you are about me? You still want me, don’t you? Last night…last night, you only had a taste. A taste of what could happen between us. I’m willing to do more. To do anything you want. Just don’t take me in there—please.”

He blinked, considering her—or her proposition—for a moment. “I don’t think so. Let’s go.” He started to step away, but she didn’t budge. It was time to get down to it.

“Okay, fine. Let’s put it this way. I don’t know what’s on that disk, but if anyone can find out, it’s me. He gave it to me. Believe me, Locke won’t make it easy. By the time you have one of your flunkies figure it out, it’ll be too late.”

“Too late for what?”

“To stop it.”

His clipped tone was impatient and he stepped toward her, menacing but closer, and she felt a surge of hope.

“Stop what?”

“I don’t know exactly. My guess is some kind of virus.”

“Your specialty, huh, LadyBug?”

She let the comment bounce off. “Yes. And you won’t be able to figure it out without me. If you take me in there, you can forget it. I won’t help you. I know him. I’ll be able to find things you won’t even know to look for.”

He snorted. Looking away in disbelief, he started to pull her after him again, but she tugged him back, hard, pulling out of his grip, feeling panic crawl along her skin. But she didn’t show it—she had to make him listen.

“I’m serious, Ian. You won’t be able to figure it out in time. I can. Locke knows me. I—” She swallowed deeply, giving him some of the truth. “I can hand you Locke. I’ll do it—but not if you bring me in there.” Her eyes turned to the tall brick building and then returned to his.

“Whatever’s on that thing, it’s in your possession, and you know what they say about possession. You’ll probably go to prison this time around.”

“I don’t care.” She kept her gaze locked to his and played her final card. “I may go to jail, and your new position will go up in smoke when they know you had a chance to stop what was going to happen and you didn’t.” She gulped in a breath, not caring if he knew how anxious she felt. “And they may not believe you seduced me and maybe they won’t even care, but it might put a nice dent in your spotless reputation if a rumor gets out. And I can make it sound far, far worse than it was.”

She saw something change in his eyes, if only for a second, and knew she had him—she’d found the key. His job, his reputation. The only things he cared about. She pressed the advantage while she had it. Her tone became pleading and eager.

“We can get him, Ian. Please. There are only three days left to my sentence. Do you really think I would get involved in something this stupid now? I’m not with him—”

“You’re his lover.”

She nodded slowly. “Was. Years ago. Not now. Not ever again would I be that stupid.” He was teetering on the edge, and she drove her point home. “Don’t take me in there, Ian, and I’ll stop this, whatever it is he’s doing. Give me a chance.”

He grunted in disgust and walked away, turning his back on her. Relief started to ease its way through her; he’d gone for it.

“How long have you been in contact with him?”

“I haven’t been, I swear. Yesterday was the first time I’d seen him in years.” Disbelief flooded his features and she stepped closer. “I’m telling the truth. I haven’t had any contact with Locke at all—I was shocked to see him yesterday and I know I shouldn’t have picked up that envelope….”

“Shoulda, coulda, woulda, sweetheart. Why did you pick it up then? You know the rules.” His eyes searched hers, and she opened her gaze to his—she needed to show him she wasn’t hiding anything at this point, as much as he would believe that.

“I don’t know.” She stumbled a bit, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. “I was shocked to see him. I just acted on reflex. I didn’t know what he left there, but I didn’t want to take a chance.”

“A chance on what?”

“That whatever was in there could harm innocent people. And believe me, it probably can.”

“How magnanimous of you.”

She swept past his hurtful tone and pressed on.

“I know it was stupid, all right?”

“No. You had options. You could have come to me, told me, or brought the thing to me first instead of hiding it.”

She barked out a laugh, watching him blink in surprise. “What? And you would have believed me and not thought I was in cahoots with him anyhow? Like I could come to you on anything like that. There wasn’t anyone I could go to.”

“And I am supposed to believe you haven’t seen him, your old lover, at all, in years?”

Her face was close to his as she lowered her voice to a whisper. “Couldn’t you tell last night, Ian? How hungry I was, how I reacted as soon as you touched me? Couldn’t you feel that I haven’t been with anyone? Not for a long while.”

He lowered his eyes from hers, his hands planted on his hips, and she wondered if she hadn’t pushed too far. But when he looked at her again there was a flicker of temptation in his gaze.

“If you’re yanking me here, sweetheart, I’ll take you down.”

“I know. I’m not. And the offer stands, Ian. I’ll help you get Locke and I’ll do…anything else you want.”



IAN FIGURED HE WAS LOSING his mind, letting her get to him, letting her swing the game. But what if she was telling the truth? What if she was right? Bringing down this guy would be a much higher priority than busting Sage on a sentence violation, even though the rules said differently.

He looked into Sage’s face, trying hard to be ruthlessly honest with himself—was he making a good judgment call, taking the lesser of two evils, or was he giving in to his baser instincts? She wasn’t just offering him Locke, she was offering him herself. That was a dynamite package. One that could easily blow up in his face.

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he’d had doubts about bringing her in since they’d left the house. Even after finding the envelope he’d wanted to kiss her again as much as anything. In for a penny, in for a pound, a voice in his head mocked him. Was what he’d done last night any less damning because he hadn’t been inside her?

But he had already made up his mind, for better or worse. He looked closely at her. “How do you know I won’t just turn you in anyway when this is all said and done? I could use you to find Locke, sleep with you and bring you back here. You could go to jail anyway.”

He reached out and touched her chin, though it wasn’t a tender gesture as much as a taunting one as he tipped her face up toward his. Her eyes remained steady on his.

“You’re not that kind of man.”

“You have no idea what kind of man I am. How much do you really know about me? Nothing. But I know everything about you, don’t I?” His voice sounded harsh even to his own ears.

She smiled a little at that, not willing to let him grab the reins. “I guess I’ll find out. I’m willing to take my chances. Anything is better than going in there.”

“Even giving me your body, knowing there’s nothing in the future for us? Not knowing if I’ll keep my end of the bargain?”

She nodded, pinning him with a frank and open stare. “I’ve already given you my body. What I wonder is if you’ll give me yours. I want you, Ian. It’s simple as that. And I don’t want to go to jail. Maybe I’m the one using you.”

He was testing her, putting their situation in the coarsest terms he could, but she’d answered him without so much as a flinch. She was either being very honest or she was just very, very good.

He didn’t touch her anymore, didn’t stand closer—they were in a public place where people would recognize him, so he couldn’t risk it—but he was burning with the desire to haul her next to him and show her what she was doing to his sense of control.




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