Cursed by Chemistry (2 page)

His grin widened. “Maybe.”

“Eww.” She wrinkled her brow in disgust.

His frown said that wasn’t the reaction he’d hoped for. “Hey, you’re the one who started this, with your high heels and your little trench coat. I know what you’re after. I know your game.” He leaned in until his chilidog breath wafted over her face. “Nor do I like being teased.” A rancid gleam of intent lit his eyes.

Forget the stone in her pocket. Between fight and flight, her nerves were charged with enough panic that Shauna could shimmy up the lamppost faster than a shiny vampire. “Look. You really seem to have the wrong impression.”

“Do I?”

She edged to one side. “I’m flattered and all. But honestly, I have a boyfriend.”

“Even if you do, he’s not here. Is he?”

She retreated another step. “He’s here. He’s,” she lifted her voice, “Samuel?”

The agent made a skeptical snort and angled toward the crook of her neck. His arms curled around her torso.

“Sam. Sammy…
shit
!” She pushed at the agent’s chest and twisted for the steps. “Oh gross. Get away.” Her voice dripped disgust.

His squeezing pressure around her midsection increased. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck tingled. The rapid-fire sensation chased down her arms as the surface of her skin crackled and heated.

Not again.

A cold lump of dread dropped into her stomach. The warmth inside her body rushed to the surface. The porcelain skin on her hands took on a lobster hue. Anger and determination blasted through her body, stoking her external temperature.

She would not be a victim again.

She may not be able to control it, but she’d use it, by God. If she had to, she’d kill him. Her palms slicked with moisture. “Let go!” she screeched.

It was coming.

If he didn’t release her, she wouldn’t be able to stop it. A girl can only afford so many death-by-inferno cards. Even with self-defense paying the bill, it was still expensive on the conscience.

The energy in her muscles drained and grew cold. Her arms weakened. Her elbows ready to snap at the hinges as the heat turned up and her body turned helpless.

She shrunk down in her coat-turned-pressure-cooker and twisted to escape from the agent’s grasp.

Somehow, his grip slipped. He rushed to regain his hold.

She jerked out of reach.

The moment her head managed to follow the direction her legs were taking her, she stumbled down the steps and yelped in surprise. Shauna smacked into a cool, bony chest. A puff of freesia-scented steam escaped her coat on impact. Her nose crushed against his sharp collarbone. She tried using her momentum to pinball away, but thin arms clamped down on her.

“Hey, baby,” a familiar voice purred. Strands of limp, copper-colored hair brushed her cheek. “Did I scare you?”

“Samuel!” she gasped. The pungent aroma of his body odor, cardboard, and axle grease coated her senses, and like a hot poker plunged into water, her skin cooled. She turned in his arms to face the squid and tried to act more relieved than repulsed.

“I said the east door,
east
, not south. And you’re late.” A slight edge hardened Samuel’s tone. One that didn’t seem to fit the whole freckle-faced, schoolboy thing he had going on. “But we’ll spank you for that later…” He paused.

A look of surprise creased his ruddy brow at the faint hissing sound that came from under her coat. He eased his grip. “What you got cookin’ in there?” he asked.

The agent swiped Shauna’s card from the ground near his feet. “You know this girl?”

Samuel paused from peeling back the edge of Shauna’s coat as if just noticing the agent. “Hey, Squeelinski.”

“It’s Squid-linski,” Shauna spat. She swatted at Samuel’s curious hand.

“
Squa
-linski. Get it right,” the agent snapped. His putout frown deepened. “How do you know my name?”

“Nah, she’s right. I like squid better. And for the record, I know everybody.” Samuel looked at Shauna and his lips turned pouty. He looped an arm around her shoulders and led her away. His voice took on a patronizing lilt. “Did that man-handling squidster touch you? Did he?”

Shauna hesitated. Her tone deflated. “No.” The last thing she needed was for someone else to fight her battles. Hell, the opponent might even
survive
that way. Besides, if she caused more of a scene, she might as well kiss this meeting goodbye.

She hesitated. “But I think he molested my license.”

“Damn,” Samuel muttered with an emphatic sigh. He lowered his head in feigned annoyance then twisted around, snatching the card from Squidlinski’s reluctant hand. Samuel moved forward again, and lifted his voice as if barking to the agent behind them. “Try harder next time. I need a better excuse than a piece of plastic if I’m gonna kick your ass.” He jerked on a chain protruding from a single door on the east corner of the building.

Shauna glanced up. The light had already been dimmed here. Samuel had told her a dark light post would be her signal. He never said it would be darkened
for her
. She closed her eyes. Of all the stupid—

The door swung open, and Samuel yanked Shauna inside.

The agent moved to follow. He opened his mouth. The scowl marring his forehead indicated a disgruntled reply, but before any words escaped, Samuel slammed the door.

The crash of metal echoed though the storeroom. He wrapped the chain around the door’s inside handle. The
rattle-clang, rattle-clang
beat through the room with each pass around the bar.

Samuel muttered between passes. “Do you have any idea…how hard it is…to get people in here? You’ve gotten caught not once, but twice. What the hell! And FBI…?” He shot her a glance as he retrieved a padlock from the end of the chain. “He rarely accepts anyone anymore, you know that?—by the way, you throw like a girl, and I told you to wear something dark. That’s not dark.”

It’s dark pink.
She wanted to argue, but doing so would only fuel his anger.

Shauna knew her choice of dress was a risk. Adrian Sands liked his customers low profile. But Shauna knew something about Adrian her contact didn’t. This had been Adrian’s favorite color. Maybe not his favorite color in the whole world, but he had specifically picked this color for her.

Chapter Two

Her memory spun back to Adrian Sands. To the man he used to be. She’d known him throughout her small-town childhood as the neighborhood hottie. But with a two-year age gap, they were incompatible back then.

Pifft
…with the number of wars they fought, the term “incompatible” had been an understatement. It wasn’t until college that they formed any shred of an awkward truce.

Even at the age of twenty-three, he wasn’t a big talker. His broad posture and brilliant smile might have said “large and impressive,” and who knew, maybe he was—even between the sheets. But that illusion never confirmed or denied itself, even to the most provocative of community college cheerleaders. The power of raging hormones was no match for Adrian’s blockade of good manners. No wonder he’d made the best house dad in Sigma Phi Epsilon history.

Shauna has been busy pledging to her own sorority the night of the SigEp hosted party. Even in a surging crowd with music thumping loud enough to blur her vision, the laser sights of Alpha Chi Omega were still trained on her from every corner.

“You. On the stairs!”

Shauna turned to the blonde-haired boy near the kitchen. His lips stretched to a cheesy grin and pointed to the paper cup he held high above the masses. “Drink?”

“How about a Coke?”

His pale brows cinched in disbelief. “What?”

Shauna cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, “A Coke!” as the music lulled. Her words bullhorned through the frat house, and several heads turned in her direction. Laughter bubbled through the crowd as the music picked up again.

“I think she wants a Coke,” offered a spaghetti-strapped redhead who appeared to be holding her own at the beer pong table. The attention wandered away, until Shauna caught the weight of one pair of eyes that had locked and held. The warmth that had receded from her cheeks returned full force.

Lounging in a battered chair with one ankle propped on his knee, Adrian Sands regarded her with an arch of his raven brow. Not a seductive, fancy-meeting-you brow lift. A what-the-hell-are-you-doing-here, don’t-you-think-you’re-a-little-young brow lift.

Shauna should know. When Adrian played her neighborhood big brother, she’d seen it hundreds of times. His hottie-authoritative combo made the perfect formula for years of closet fantasies and self-pleasuring role-play.

One by one, those thoughts marched through Shauna’s brain like an erotic circus on parade.

Pity. She’d grown old enough to sneak a peek inside his big tent, but he still wanted to play safety net.

Was it the Coke she’d ordered that gave him license to treat her like a child? How could that one look of disapproval turn her stomach into such a shaken snow globe of excitement? With every chair and dark corner occupied, Shauna slunk down on the stairs. Maybe she should have ordered something stronger.

“Here you go, pretty girl.” A freckled hand lifted the drink through the stair railing.

Her reflection danced back at her in the darkened liquid. Did she look that out of place?

“Well, don’t just sit there. Drink up.” His limp tangle of blonde hair flapped up and down as string-cheese-boy shifted and trotted past other partygoers on his way up the stairs.

Adrian’s gaze shifted to the boy, and his eyes seemed to narrow.

Maybe Shauna hadn’t done anything after all; maybe Adrian was in one of those hate-everybody moods. That seemed more fitting. She’d never managed to score his attention before. Why start now?

The flat, lukewarm drink left a chalky film on Shana’s tongue. Her bottom lip pulled into a frown. Her next, tentative sip sloshed over her lips as string boy bumped her shoulder.

“That’ll be five dollars.” He sighed as he lowered himself next to her. “Or you could just tell me your name.”

Shauna took another sip and looked away. “Is this diet?” She offered the cup back. “For five bucks, I’d prefer the drink I ordered.”

He nudged the cup back. “Come on, don’t make me feel bad. It’s all we had left.”

She looked to Adrian again. A wide-shouldered man had stepped in front of him, blocking Shauna’s view.

Something had changed in him. She craned her neck for a better glimpse, but she couldn’t see his face. Adrian’s hands had clamped on the arms of his chair, and he leaned forward, his posture tensed as if ready to strike. If she had to guess, the wide-shouldered guy had just given him some very bad news. Adrian looked ready to pummel him.

Of all the crappy timing. Shauna rose to her feet and stared at the shoulder blockade. Just a little to the left and she’d get the full view again—a kibble toss of excitement to the yapping poodle that was her curiosity. What sort of news could possibly animate the immovable Adrian?

“You okay?”

Shauna’s attention spun back to the blond boy who’d planted himself beside her. “What?”

“I said, are you pledging?”

“Yeah.” She waved the questioner away.

“Well then, you’d better catch up,” string-cheese-boy persisted, pushing the cup back into her hand.

From her vantage point over the rim of the cup, Shauna caught sight of Adrian again as he jumped to his feet. A piercing look of determination darkened his features, and his chin jerked in her direction.
Was that really meant for her?

As if on command, the shoulder barricade turned, and the man started for the stairs. Adrian fell in step behind him, picking up speed. A growl of hurricane force rage seemed to pull from every corner of the room, as Adrian heaved a mighty breath.

Had she heard that right? Shauna’s heart leaped to attention and pumped out an urgent distress signal at first sight of the menacing clench of his jaw.

But one step closer and the snow globe in her stomach seemed to shatter.
Act cool. Act cool.
The excitement overpowered everything and fought her lips into a hopeless, groupie smile.

She lowered the cup just as the liquid jumped into her face. It splashed down her shirt, rendering her white-silk, butterfly-sleeved top completely ruined. She gasped at the wide-shouldered man who lay face down a few steps away. Adrian had apparently shoved him forward, dominoing the mass of stoop monkeys right into her.

He never did offer her an explanation that night, just a box one hour later that contained a new shirt
as colorful as she was
and an invitation to Casa de Adrian for the night.

Which she refused.

Well, except for the shirt. That berry-pink, sewn-in-heaven, wonder of a blouse came from Saks Fifth Avenue. It had been the most expensive item she’d ever owned.

Perhaps he’d been trying to protect her from the date-rape drug that laced her drink that night or the destruction of her self-respect a few hours later. But it’s easy to pin nobilities on a girl’s first crush.

Shauna flung the memory away. He had still offered his room that night. He still wanted something from her, just like the rest of them. He wasn’t as innocent as he’d led her to believe.

Any opportunity to appeal to that marred nobility from years ago could save her future. If she could stand out and sweet talk him, it might earn her the privilege of being treated for her unwanted singe-skills.

“You know, you’re not very bright. Pretty, but not bright,” Samuel assessed.

She grinned. Some of that might come naturally, but for Adrian, she’d dress it up a little. Act dumb and flaunt the package. If Adrian had some sort of weakness for her, she’d find it. She had to.

Her thoughts brick-walled as Samuel shoved a paper bag over her head. “Hey!” She moved to tear the bag free.

Samuel caught her hands.

She twisted.

Samuel’s voice elevated over the crinkling sound of the attack paper bag. “Stop…
Stop
! It’s the rules. He doesn’t see you. You don’t see him. It’s how these things stay secret. Deal with it or leave.”

Shauna jerked her shoulders away. “Okay, fine.”