"I've never seen anyone do quite so many things to a wineglass without actually drinking the wine."
Sophie froze in her chair. Damn! She knew that voice – Sonny Falcone. Had he recognized her in spite of the wig? How would she explain that she'd told him she'd had to work on her presentation?
"Why don't you let me buy you a fresh glass? I can recommend one from a local vineyard."
He hadn't recognized her. But he still might.
Pushing down the nerves in her stomach, Sophie turned. "No thank you. One is my limit, and I made the mistake of ordering a second one"
"You know, I have the funniest feeling we've met before. And that's not a pickup line. You remind me of someone…"
"I do that to a lot of people. But we haven't met. I just arrived in California today."
"It's probably the lighting in this place. But I can see I was mistaken. If I'd seen you before, I wouldn't have forgotten your face."
Oh, please! What had she ever seen in this man? Had her breakup from Bradley made her this blind? This desperate?
"If I can't buy you a glass a wine, perhaps I could persuade you to dance?"
"I'd love to dance." She risked a quick meeting of eyes and felt the nerves settle. He still didn't recognize her. And she would make sure that he didn't. "But first I need to freshen up."
"I'll be waiting right here."
For longer than you'd probably like. Sliding from the stool, Sophie threaded her way through the crowd in the direction of the ladies' room. But she didn't go inside when she reached it. Instead, she pulled open the door next to it marked Exit. The cool night air was refreshing after the smoky closeness of the bar. Drawing it in, she hurried down the path to the parking lot.
A glance at her watch told her she could still catch the red-eye. Her decision made, she suddenly felt free. Happy. There was only one thing she regretted. She was going to head back to D.C. without ever going up in that hot-air balloon.
But there had to be places to take a balloon ride in Maryland or Virginia. It would be a nice wild-goose chase to take the Shadow on. She was still thinking of that, laughing almost, when she reached her car.
It all happened very quickly. Arms grabbing her, holding her tight. A prick in her arm, and darkness swallowing her up.
Chapter 13
«
Moonlight pooled on the bed, spilling over Mac as she slept.
Mac. Propping himself up on an elbow, Lucas shifted slightly so that he could see her better. She'd fallen sound asleep in the taxi on the way home from the bar. The last thing she'd said to him before she snuggled her head against his shoulder was that since he'd enjoyed the pearls, she knew he would love being wrapped in plastic wrap.
"Plastic wrap?" he'd asked.
"Mummification," she mumbled against his shirt. "It turns some men on. You can't move. I can. I can do anything I want. I bet you'll like it."
"I don't think I'll enjoy smothering to death."
"You won't." She'd giggled then and yawned. "I'll leave your mouth and nose free and, I think, one other part of you. Maybe I'll use the pearls again." He felt her mouth curve against his chest as she moved her hand from where it rested against his chest to the waistband of his slacks. He gripped it there.
"The picture is becoming clearer."
"The moment you told me you weren't wearing any boxers or briefs, I knew I had to try the pearls. And they worked."
They worked all right. Just thinking of the way she'd looped them around his erection and drawn them slowly upward…
She'd moved then, wiggling against him, exactly where he'd grown very hard. "I bet you'll enjoy the plastic wrap too. I packed a whole roll. We can do it right after we get back to the hotel."
But they hadn't gotten to it. They hadn't gotten to anything. Yet.
MacKenzie Lloyd slept like a rock. He'd had to carry her into the hotel, and he hadn't had the heart to wake her when they reached the suite. As he'd undressed her and tucked her in, he'd noticed the dark smudges under her eyes. She was exhausted.
And no wonder. When he thought of what they'd done on that pool table. They'd taken turns, and when she'd suggested a position he'd never heard of before, they'd even compromised. He was going to have to get a hold of her research. He certainly was never going to be able to concentrate on his pool game again.
Because he couldn't help himself, he brushed one finger lightly over the fullness of her bottom lip.
At last he'd met the real MacKenzie Lloyd. And if the glimpses that he'd caught of her before had intrigued him and surprised him, the real deal fascinated him. She played pool as if she'd been raised in a pool hall. Yet he'd seen traces of the scientist too, in the way she set up her shots and measured the angles, almost as if she was solving some kind of problem.
He reached out to brush a curl back from her forehead. But it wasn't just the logical side of her brain that he admired. It was the imaginative side that quite literally had knocked his socks off.
And when she set out to seduce him, she drove him … crazy.
Tracing a finger down the soft curve of her cheek, he smiled. Who would have thought that the prim and proper Dr. Lloyd had an alter ego who was wicked and wild?
But then he'd never thought of himself as a man who could get caught up in wild fantasies or risky sexual games. What they'd done tonight had been plenty risky – but fun.
Anything might be fun with Mac.
Except for the plastic-wrap thing. He was going to have to draw the line at being rolled up in that. Then suddenly he grinned. Perhaps he'd have to turn the tables on her and see just how much she liked "mummification." He traced a finger lightly down her throat and over the rise of one breast until he let it rest on the peak. Of course, he'd have to leave some parts free.
As the images began to fill his mind, he shook his head to clear it. If he allowed himself to pursue that fantasy, he wouldn't let her sleep. He wouldn't get any sleep himself. And they would have plenty of time.
Time. Just that one word sent the first little ripple of unease through him.
He wanted to go on seeing Mac. And he could. There was nothing to prevent their spending more time together when they returned to D.C. He could picture her there even now. In his apartment, in his office … in his life?
The direction his thoughts were taking had the ripple of unease growing into a full-blown wave.
As quietly as he could, Lucas slipped from beneath the sheet and eased himself up from the bed. After glancing back once to make sure that she hadn't stirred, Lucas pulled on his slacks and let himself out of the bedroom.
Moonlight streamed into the large sitting area, bright enough to have him squinting a little as he crossed to the bar and poured himself a snifter of brandy. He had to think, to plan. Somehow, lying there beside Mac, he'd stopped doing that. He'd felt so – he struggled to find the right word – content.
Lifting the glass to his lips, he took a long swallow and welcomed the burn as it slid down his throat. He didn't want to feel that way. It didn't last. There was no one that you could allow yourself to depend on that much. Those were the roles he'd lived by. Survived by.
Moving to the balcony door, he opened it and slipped through. The moon was full and bright. Beneath it, the ocean was black, laced with flashes of silver. His granddad had told him once that the sea was a lot like life – always dangerous, often surprising and, every so often, magical. For a while he stood there, just concentrating on the flashes of silver.
What would Mac think if he told her he wanted her in his life once they got back to D.C.? Somehow, he didn't think she'd be any more pleased with the idea then he was. He took another taste of his brandy, just a sip this time. She might run.
He would catch her.
Or she might come on this very balcony to get her courage revved up. He'd recognized, though, that she had no understanding at all of how really brave she was.
Surely brave enough to take the same risk he was taking. And if she wasn't, he'd just have to convince her. He smiled slowly. With plastic wrap, if nothing else worked.
Tossing off the rest of his brandy, Lucas glanced at his watch – 3:00 am. He could wake her and begin his campaign right now.
Or he could catch what little sleep he could and wake her when the sun came up. The wide yawn that suddenly overtook him had him choosing the latter. His resolution strong in his mind, he turned and walked back toward the bedroom.
*
At 3:00 A.M. Tracker glanced at his watch, then aimed a murderous glance through the crack in the closet door. His back was killing him and he wasn't sure if his legs would ever unbend again. If looks could have maimed or killed, the woman sitting at the desk would have died a very painful death several hours ago.
He'd waited until after eleven to break in. By that time, all the lights had been turned out except the ones illuminating the walkways between the cabins. He'd no sooner let himself into the office than he'd heard the key turn in the outer door.
The closet had been his home ever since.
The sudden whir of the computer told him that the blond amazon might have finally finished her nocturnal bookkeeping. He would have put her out of commission earlier, but Lucas's orders had been very clear. He didn't want any kind of disturbance at the spa that might alert Sophie to the fact that her big brother was keeping tabs on her.
The moment the computer stopped whirring, the blond amazon closed the ledger and put it in the top drawer. Tracker pinched himself just to make sure that he wasn't dreaming when she rose and moved toward the door of the office.