Darkness Falls(23)

The men turned to look—Michael’s gaze meeting her own like a plug in a socket. She felt a buzzing current in places he hadn’t yet touched. Which, come to think of it, was all of her.
The silk blouse had been a mistake. Her skin was warming. It was going to cling.
And then there was the other guy—tall, sort of good-looking in a less dynamic way. Not like Michael, who drew her gaze again. Behind them Maze was nodding and mouthing oh yeah in the most exaggerated way possible.
Jordan ignored her and held out her hand. “Mr. Reese, so good to see you again.”
He shook hers, laughter in his eyes, but his voice was steady when he said, “Likewise.”
She was crushing so hard. The man was going to break her heart. She had that Must List for a reason.
Jordan shifted her attention, holding out her hand again. “And Maze has mentioned you, Mister—”
Warm, dry shake. “Steven Conner. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Lane. Michael says he’s never seen someone be so lucid and in control so quickly.”
What else had Michael said?
“I didn’t know the two of you worked together.” Jordan gestured toward the sofa, where—fabulous—Maze’s cocoon of covers still lay.
Maze jumped to help gather them up and toss them to the side so the men could sit. Then she dived for her breakfast dishes too, which clattered, spoon flying. Slammed her laptop shut.
Jordan lowered herself into the only chair. She could feel the back of her blouse sticking to her skin. She sucked in her belly so the same wouldn’t happen to the front. She should’ve gone with a knit. Note to self: Silk was not sexy when sweaty.
Mr. Conner took the seat nearest her on the sofa. “I scouted Michael ages ago, when he was a teenager. He was in my first batch of recruitments, actually. I was just a couple years older. Was supposed to win them over with swagger and promises of unlimited Rêve.”
“Oh?” Jordan would not, absolutely not, look at Michael again. But the tall, hot man stood near her side, within reaching distance. She could feel the heat coming off him from where she sat.
“He went on to Special Cases,” Mr. Conner continued, occasionally glancing at Maze to include her, “but I’ve mostly stuck with recruiting.” He focused again on Jordan. “Now I’ve got my own special case in your sister, who refuses to divulge her contacts. I’m hoping you’ll help me convince her.”
Maze folded her arms and glared meaningfully at Jordan. She’d wanted Jordan-style hell unleashed on this guy. Okay, fine. But Jordan had to be quick, because she had to change her blouse and get to her SpiderSly meeting. She had a half hour max. Michael could follow, if he wanted. She really hoped he wanted.
She put her hands together calmly. “And why would she do that?”
Mr. Conner slanted a look back at Maze. “Perhaps because she’s working with dangerous criminals?”
“Wouldn’t it be in her best interests not to inform against them until she is certain of her safety?”
Maze, happy with the point Jordan had just made, raised her eyebrows gleefully at Mr. Conner.
“What about the safety of Rêve?” he shot back. “Of the people in Rêve?” Also directed at Maze, who now narrowed her eyes at him, daring him to do his worst.
“I don’t care about them,” Jordan said. “I care about my sister. And if Rêve is dangerous, then the public should know.”
“They will come after her,” he said to Maze.
“They will regardless.” It’s the cold hard truth, sister. Hear it. “She doesn’t have to piss them off first.”
Mr. Conner’s attention shifted over and up. “Reese, since you’re clearly in bed with Jordan, do you think you might also persuade her to see reason?”
Jordan flushed, hot and fast, but that’s what the bastard wanted: to throw her off balance. No such luck. Not when her little sister was in the mix.
She restrained herself from peeking at Michael—which was like fighting the pull of gravity—and smiled warmly instead, disregarding Mr. Conner, and looked with pride—faked, of course—at troublemaking, judgment-challenged Maze Lane.
“My sister has gone into business for herself. She has a rare and marketable skillset—” No matter how stupidly employed. “—and a ready clientele, regardless of what you think of them.”
Jordan looked back at Mr. Conner. “Instead of attempting to embarrass me, which will only backfire, why don’t you simply make her a better offer?”
***
Rook wanted to kiss her smart mouth. He liked her better in the pink sweats she’d worn in the dream. She was softer, more touchable.