He turned to find her a foot behind him. She carried a light scent of the ocean, its freshness washing over him with cool assurance. If pity had been the only thing he saw in her eyes, he would’ve stormed away. However, genuine warmth and raw fortitude also sparkled in their green-gold depths. God above, she was a beauty.
“Fifteen minutes,” she said. “That’s all I ask.” Reaching out to touch his arm, she snatched away her hand before making contact. “If you want to leave after that, it’s your call.”
He glanced at Mitchell beyond her shoulder. The man glared machetes at him. Riordan had a feeling he wouldn’t walk out the door without a fight.
His gaze shot back to Natalie Meeks.
Dr. Meeks
. Did she even have a physical flaw? Hell, he had enough for the entire D.I.R.E. Agency compound. He’d need a lot less than fifteen minutes to get what he wanted out of the visit. Maybe underneath that regal, professional persona was a hellcat in bed.
“No bullshit, Doctor. If I feel like you’re handing me a line, I’m outta here.”
She gave a brief nod. “Agreed. The same holds true for you,
personal trainer
. If I feel like you’re handing
me
a line, I’ll tell Mitchell to order you a whistle.”
“You want to talk
here
?”
Natalie surveyed the extravagant indoor/outdoor swimming pool. One rounded end extended into the Nevada morning air, a concrete deck on all sides. A clear, paned canopy covered the center of the pool, the opposite end reaching into the compound walls. The luxurious atmosphere surprised her, considering D.I.R.E’s purpose. Then again, many agents lived at the desert compound. Its use extended beyond work alone.
Fully clothed, Riordan dove into the pool and disappeared. Seconds later, he appeared under the canopy and swam inside, his movements light, nearly still on the water. Shading her eyes against the September sun, Natalie watched him re-emerge and head toward her.
He wanted to show her he had control of the situation.
She had news for him.
Springing out of the water, he plopped onto the edge of the pool, flinging water on her Italian leather heels. With his feet dangling in the water, he held up his dripping hand to help her sit.
What do you know, the Neanderthal had some manners.
“Yes, I do want to talk here.”
Natalie just stared at his wet hand.
“What? Is your designer dress dry-clean only? Or, will the water ruin your Italian leather shoes?”
She scowled at him. The idea of giving Mitchell a negative assessment on Riordan St. James suddenly appealed to her a great deal.
Pulling off her heels one at a time, she set them side-by-side under a nearby table. Taking his hand, Natalie shivered at the contact, his large palm rough and abrasive against her skin. No weekly manicures for this man.
Paul had kept a standing appointment.
Sitting beside him on the concrete, she hiked up her dress to mid-thigh, giving herself room to move. She dropped her feet into the warm, soothing water, her pink-polished toes and pale legs sickly next to his tanned skin.
She studied his strong, muscled legs. Despite the scars, they were very attractive legs.
Really, Natalie?
“You’re very dark.”
He kicked his feet with lazy movements, causing small waves in the water. “I live outside.”
Perspiration already dotted her nape and mid-morning had just come upon them. In her opinion, spending time in the Nevada desert heat seemed masochistic.
“Why do you live outside?”
Frowning, he turned to her, his ice-blue eyes barricaded but beautiful. “Mitchell didn’t fill you in on my sordid past?”
She shook her head. “No. All he told me is that you were one of Robert Naylor’s best agents.”
With a sarcastic harrumph, Riordan stared down at the water. “Until six weeks ago, my home was a prison carved into the Altay Mountains of Mongolia. I spent three years in that hellhole, eighty percent of my days tied up in a dark cave, alone. Until my hands were crushed, the other twenty percent was spent defending myself against the guards or healing in their so-called hospital.” He flexed his fingers. “So yeah, I’m going to live outside.”
Natalie caught her breath. It explained so much more than his tanned skin. It explained his chosen isolation, his long hair, his scars, his defensive pride.
I’m sorry
threatened to blurt from her mouth but she held strong. That was the last thing he wanted to hear.
She clenched her fists in her lap. “Why were you there?”
“Naylor didn’t like the fact that I had a thing going with his daughter, Cassandra. He got rid of me.”
Natalie couldn’t keep her mouth from dropping open. Good God. The man had been sent to hell for falling in love.
Her clenched fists pulled tighter. The idea angered her.
Infuriated
her. But, she’d been taught to rein in her temper. She had an image to uphold.
Can’t let a crack show, now can we?
Sitting up straight, she swallowed before speaking. “How did you get out?”
“Naylor brought me here, to D.I.R.E., to break up Cassandra and her, fiancé. Ironic, huh?” He glanced at her with a sudden grin. “It didn’t work.”
Her hands gripped the edge of the pool.
Holy wow
. When the man smiled he actually
glowed
. He had a beautiful, white smile and one dimple in his left cheek. How he’d managed to keep his teeth in a prison like that was nothing short of a miracle. His brilliant smile appeared so contradictory to his rough, caveman-like exterior, it stunned her.
Keep your head, Natalie. He’s a patient.
Frowning, she cleared her throat. She didn’t dare go down that road.
“His daughter is engaged to a D.I.R.E. agent?”
With a slow nod, he stared at his feet in the water.
“Small world,” she said, her words sounding inadequate.
A bitter laugh escaped him. “You have no idea...”
If anything sounded personal, that statement did. He’d answered superficial questions up to that point. How would he handle something intimate?
She braced her arms on the concrete behind her. “How do you feel about her engagement?”
Hanging his head, he turned to face her with a cocked brow. “Really? You’re going full-on doctor on me? Is this where I lie down on one of the loungers and tell you my troubles?”
She matched his cocked brow. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were ridiculing my profession.”
He held up his hands in feigned innocence. “Not me.”
Lifting a shoulder, she said, “Mitchell is paying me the big bucks to be a
full-on doctor
, Riordan. If you want to lie down, please do.”
His gaze dropped to her breasts before a smirk crossed his features. “Care to join me?”
Been there, done that
. And, it had ruined her life on so many levels.
She tilted her head. “What do you hope to gain with that question, Riordan? Outrage? Shock...?”
“Consent.”
His deep, gravelly voice shot a wave of gooseflesh over her skin. Why did her body scream
God, yes
, while her brain told her beware men bearing barbaric sex appeal? Rough, arrogant, long-haired men were not an everyday occurrence for her. This one oozed animal magnetism through every tanned pore of his scarred skin.
She sighed. “Riordan, let’s keep things profess-”
His soft chuckle stopped her mid-speech. “When I first saw you, I thought that’s why Mitchell brought you here.”
Stilling, she stared at him, hoping sand wouldn’t blow in her mouth. “Are you implying that I look like a-“
“Prostitute?”
This time, he stared straight into her eyes, his dark with appreciation. Her body tingled in places she hadn’t realized were still around, his smile rueful.
“No, but I thought that could be the only reason Mitchell would bring a woman to me. He knows I’ve been without a long time. You’re just not my type.”
What a complete and total Neanderthal
. “Nor are you mine.”
With a shake of his head, he looked down at the water again. “Hell, I could see that right off.”
Something in his soft tone told her more stood behind that statement than the obvious. He considered himself beneath her. Growing up in the ranks of high society, Natalie abhorred pretentiousness. She’d been scolded a few times herself for speaking her mind in front of high-ranking officials.
In her eyes, equality ran across the board, regardless of social class or ethnicity. In Riordan’s case, they were just…
different
.
Regardless, she’d gained no headway traveling down this road. She needed to find some camaraderie.
Pulling off her college ring, she held it between her thumb and forefinger. “May I? It’s made of nickel.”
Glancing at her, his gaze dropped to the ring before returning to her face. “You’re proposing? I’m not a virgin so you don’t have to marry me to get me on that lounger.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Wow, that was so…
not
original, St. James. Did you spend the last three years coming up with that?”
He laughed outright, the sound echoing off the cavernous canopy. Natalie couldn’t contain her grin. Laughter looked darned good on him.
“May I?” she said again.
His sober gaze studied her. Did he fear her touch, or the idea of going against his preconceived notion?
Probably both. “I promise I don’t bite.”
Rather than the smart remark she expected, he gave a brief nod.
With tentative movements, Natalie reached for his now dry hand. He felt warm to the touch, raw strength emanating from his artificial bones and rough flesh. He had capable hands, limbs that were just an extension of the man himself. Natalie had a feeling he could be enlisted to perform any task and would eagerly face it head on. When it came to dares, the word
no
would never enter his vocabulary.
If she ever went on one of those survival shows, Natalie wanted Riordan St. James with
her
.
Holding his hand, she set the ring upright on top before slowly moving away. It stood erect, just shy of his knuckles.
She felt her smile grow of its own volition. “You
do
have magnetic hands.”
His sky blue gaze roamed over her face. She felt heat bloom in her cheeks.
“I do. Once my enhancements are complete, my pull will be more powerful. I’ll have to control it with my brain.”
Cocking her head, she said, “And, you’re okay with that? With someone altering your body that way?”
He graced her with another bright smile. She took a deep breath and let it out.
“To be the only man in the world with the ability to attract and repel objects with his hands? To be one of
The
D.I.R.E. Agency’s super agents? Damn straight, I’m okay with that.”
The man knew what he wanted when it came to his career. It didn’t sound like Riordan had made a forced decision out of some sense of loyalty to Mitchell. If he lacked self-confidence as Mitchell said, his assurance proved a step in the right direction.
Clenching his hand into a fist, Riordan watched the ring tumble into the clear water. No sooner had she gasped than he dropped into the pool.
She waited for him to resurface. When he didn’t show after long moments, her heart started to pound. “Riordan?”
The water lay calm, gently lapping against the side. “
Riordan
?”
He sprang from the water like a dolphin at play, his head popping up between her legs. Gasping, she shoved away from the pool, a foot braced on the concrete, her dress riding high on her thighs. His beautiful, pale eyes went from playful to dark as he placed the ring on the ground between her thighs - just inches from the crotch of her black thong.
She didn’t move.
Her mind swirled with images of him touching her there, slipping a finger under the lace. She could feel her body prepare for an invasion that could only take place in her mind. Yet, she did nothing to stop it.
Her legs fell open further. His breath rushed through his nose. Their gazes held, his dark as sapphires, hers clouded with visions of his hand on her.
Riordan’s gaze dropped to the hem of her dress. Her breath caught. Bracing both hands on the edge of the pool, he jumped out of the water, flinging heavy droplets over her.
Natalie held up her hands to ward off the dousing. What was she doing? Hadn’t she learned anything with Paul?
Heart pounding against her ribs, she snatched up the ring and shot to her feet. She grabbed her shoes.
“Natalie.” He grabbed her arm with a wet hand.
She flung it away.
Rushing to the fitness room door, she had to find Mitchell. She couldn’t do this.
“
Meeks
.” Riordan came up behind her.
Hurry, Natalie…
She grabbed the door handle just as Mitchell shoved it open from the inside. He glanced at her with narrowed eyes before turning to Riordan who stood beside her.
“I’m sorry, Mitchell, but you’ll have to get someone else.”
Mitchell’s thunderous gaze shot to Riordan, who crossed his arms over his chest.
“We’re up a creek then, Mitchell…” Riordan pointed at her with his thumb. “…because I’ll only work with her.”
#####
“You’ve got a Wednesday morning appointment at Natalie Meeks’ San Diego office.”
Foot propped on the nightstand, Riordan glanced over his shoulder as he shoved his blade inside his boot. Damn, he’d done it. Mitchell had actually gotten her to agree to see him after that nearly orgasmic exchange at the pool.
He dropped his leg to the floor. Riordan didn’t know how it had happened but one minute they were tip-toeing around each other, the next, he’d found himself wishing her black thong was made of iron.
Riordan flexed his hand. “I thought she refused to work with me.” Rolling up his jeans, he shoved them in the duffle bag.