Sexy/Dangerous (5 page)

An amused Max asked, “No comment?”

His eyes sparkled. “No comment.”

Max was pleased that the ice between them seemed to be thawing, even if it was only a small crack. It made her wonder about the man beneath the scientist.

He made the call to Polish Danny’s Soul Food. After ordering for Max, himself, and out of courtesy, something for Kaitlin, he closed his phone. “About thirty minutes.”

“Okay. I’m going to hang out with the dogs until the food comes.” Then she added, “And Adam, I am sorry about what happened to you. Ruby and Ossie would never hurt you. It’s not how they were raised.”

He didn’t speak to that, but did say, “If I hear from my mother I’ll let you know.”

“And I’ll let you know if Myk calls me.”

“Sounds good.”

Unspoken words passed between them then, and Max sensed he was as aware of her as she was of him. “I’ll see you later,” she said in parting, and left him alone in the room.

Adam walked over to the windows and looked out over the lake. He was so concerned about his mother, she was all he could think about.
Did those men have her?
Once again hundreds of ugly scenarios played in his mind with such vividness he finally had to force his mind onto something else. The dark clouds forming out on the horizon signaled rain. Usually, watching a storm roll in was one of the joys of living there on the lake. Adam was as fascinated by weather and storms as he was with every other branch of science, but this evening his excitement was muted. The swan-shaped glass barometer mounted on the wall beside the window had been a Christmas gift from his mother a few years back, and the sight of it sent his thoughts to her again.
Where is she? How is she? Is she safe? What about Ray?
The glass swan measured barometric pressure by the movement of the red dye resting in its belly. The dye was
rising into the neck, which meant the pressure was dropping rapidly, indicating the approach of a big storm. Sure enough, Adam could see thick dark clouds filled with flashes of lightning sweeping across the water like dust from an advancing herd of charging buffalo.

He wondered if Max enjoyed storms. He had no idea why he’d told her about his issues with the dogs. As he’d said, the attack wasn’t something he usually talked about, especially not with strangers but with her he had. In his younger days he would have been all over the foxy, green-eyed Max Blake. His attraction to her was growing by the moment, but the reality of the now was that he needed to stay as far away from her as possible. She came across as a woman who captained her own ship and as a result had probably left behind a trail of broken male hearts a mile long. He had no plans to become a member of the club. His work was a jealous mistress, but a woman like her could inspire a man to greatness.

He shook off the fantasies of the tempting Ms. Max and turned his thoughts to Kaitlin. What had she really been doing up here in his room? Could she and her daddy be connected to the threatening e-mail? He hoped not. He was sure Kaitlin had contacted her old man about Max, however, and equally sure that Sylvester Kent would be showing up in the next couple of days, ostensibly to check her out.

A soft rumble of thunder brought Adam back and he looked out at the lake. The storm clouds were now smoke gray and hugging the lake surface in a way that made them appear to be forming from the water. He could see shards of lightning flashing periodically inside them and he estimated the brunt of the storm to be
about twenty minutes away. The red water in the swan barometer had risen high into the neck now, which meant the pressure was still dropping. The storm was going to be a wild one. It was not the time for anyone to be on the beach. A storm spawned by such low pressure would be packing winds capable of taking out large trees. He checked his watch to try and gauge the delivery from Danny’s. If the driver was lucky, he’d be here and gone before it hit.

Adam turned away from the window. He wanted to power down the computers. Lightning liked to snack on silicon the way tornadoes liked trailer parks, but out of the corner of his eye he saw Max and the dogs jogging down on the beach. He looked at the approaching storm and the wind-whipped water and then back at her with amazement. He assumed she knew a storm was coming, so what the hell was she doing on the beach? She was the tallest thing out there for miles. Was she trying to be a lightning statistic?

The faint rumble of thunder shook the silence again. The sky was turning black. Tight-lipped, Adam hurried out of the room and down the stairs.

Outside, Max and the dogs jogged back toward the house. Fat raindrops were beginning to pelt them, so Max increased the pace. Being out here in the storm was part of the training Portia wanted Max to maintain. The dogs never knew what kind of weather they’d be working in, and Portia and Max wanted them to be comfortable in all types of conditions, but this jog might have been a mistake. Max could see the lightning. The clouds looked like fat black cabbages. Since she was the tallest thing on the beach, she hoped Mother Nature didn’t mistake her for a lightning rod. A flash of lightning struck
the water about two hundred feet out, and the thunder was so loud, Max felt the ground shake beneath her shoes. Blinded by the rain now coming down horizontally, she signaled the dogs to take off, so they’d at least be out of the wet, but they kept pace beside her. Grinning at their loyalty, she kicked into a sprint.

The beach was muddy now, though, and she was having trouble breathing because of the fierce winds, but they made it to the stairs. The wind had increased threefold in a blink of an eye, and Max found it hard to see, let alone make any headway up the steps. She grabbed hold of the railing to keep from being blown to Chicago and realized the very serious mistake she’d made underestimating the weather. She’d not only endangered herself, but her precious dogs. The dogs, built lower to the ground, seemed to have hunkered down and were attempting to break a path through the screaming wind and hurricane force rain. Max put her head down, gripped the rain-slick rail and forced her body to conquer the weather that was trying to push her back. Her hand slipped and she lost her grip. She managed to grab hold again just as the angry wind slapped her spine back against the iron rail. Her back screamed with pain. Then a strong hand grabbed her around the waist. She looked up into the grim, wet, bearded face of Adam Gary.

“Come on!” he yelled over the swirling wind and rain.

Max was grateful for his presence but she could see Ruby struggling to go forward. “Go ahead!” She pointed at Ruby. “I need to help her!” she shouted.

Holding tightly to his hand, Max made her way over to the canine. The rain and wind were slapping her face with so much force it kept snatching her breath. Her
back protested when she lifted Ruby, and Max wasn’t sure she could carry her the whole way up. Ruby was ninety pounds of bone and muscle, and she was heavy.

Max saw Gary pick up Ossie with no problem. He wrapped his other arm around her waist, and as she carried Ruby, they battled their way up the stairs.

Once they were safely inside, Max and Adam slid to the floor with the dogs. They were all soaked and breathing heavily. Glad to be out of the raging storm, Max tried to catch her breath. She swore never to do anything that asinine again. Ever. She hugged the drenched and panting Ruby. “You okay, girl?”

Max checked her over for any obvious scrapes or injuries but saw none. “I’m sorry. My fault entirely.”

She could see Adam’s tight face. He was so wet he looked like he’d taken a shower with his clothes on. “If you have something to say, please say it.”

Ossie was standing beside him panting with exertion. “A woman with your training should have more sense.”

“I know. Thanks for the rescue.”

Her attitude seemed to have caught him off guard.

She asked, “Did you expect me to argue with you?”

“Yes,” he said frankly.

“Excuse, me,” Kaitlin said, coming into the room. “While you all were out chilling in the storm, dinner came. I’ll eat in my room.” She set the bags down on the floor at her feet.

Adam warned, “Just make sure it’s
your
room and not mine.”

She showed him a sour face then left with her portion of the delivery.

Max was still lying on the floor. “If you don’t like her, why is she here?”

“It’s complicated.”

Max could feel her back stiffening like a board. She went to stand up but the pain refused to allow it. Gritting her teeth, she forced her body to obey the command and struggled to her feet.

Adam saw her stiff movements. “You need a hot shower and some ibuprofen for that back.”

Outside, the storm was still wailing.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Are you always so hard-headed?”

“Always. Ask my mama.” She took a few stiff-legged steps that made her wince. The dogs looked up with concern. “I’m okay,” she told them. “Just moving a little slow, that’s all.”

She saw Adam shake his head at her stubbornness, and said to him in response, “I’ll take the shower and the pain meds, but first I want to get out of these wet clothes, then I plan to eat.”

If he had another comment to offer, he kept it to himself. On the other hand, the thought of walking up the steps and the struggle she knew she’d have getting out of her wet clothes were daunting even to a former Marine. Once again Rita Risk Taker, the name given her by her mama when Max was growing up in Texas, had bitten off more than she could chew. Max viewed her back injury as divine payback for foolishly placing the dogs in harm’s way, so she accepted her punishment without whining and reminded herself that she’d done far harder things, like surviving the Marines’ Crucible, hunting and eating lizards in the jungles of Colombia when the rations ran out, and making a fifteen-mile walk across the Afghanistan countryside to Kabul on a badly fractured foot. With those accomplishments under her belt
she could certainly drag herself up a measly flight of stairs.

Drawing in a deep breath to strengthen her resolve, she placed one wet sneaker in front of the other and climbed to the top.

By the time Max stepped out of the shower, her back
hurt so badly every breath brought agony. She managed to drag on some clean panties and a pair of sweats she dug out of the duffel she’d brought in from the car that morning, but she had neither the ability nor the inclination to do anything about her pancake flat hair, so she decided to avoid mirrors instead. She cupped her hand beneath the running stream of water coming from the tap in the sink and swallowed some of the over-the-counter meds she carried in her medicine kit. She hoped the relief would kick in soon because her back was on fire. It crossed her mind that her injury might be more serious than she’d first assumed, but she wasn’t going to deal with that possibility, either, at least not for now. For the moment, all she wanted was a bed so she could fall out.

But she didn’t have a bed, she reminded herself. She knew Kaitlin wouldn’t give up hers without a death match, so that left the SUV, but no way was she going to crawl into the back of the Honda, not in her condition. Instead she left the bedroom and took a slow walk
down the hall and up the set of rickety stairs. He was going to throw a fit, but she didn’t care. She needed to lie down, and his bed was the only game in town.

Downstairs, Adam stripped off his wet T-shirt and tossed it to the floor. He was hoping she’d be back by now. The dogs were lying on the floor by the patio door, watching him. He was still amazed by the fact that he’d picked up the one she called Ossie. Instinct, he supposed. It had been so chaotic out there, his aversion to dogs hadn’t even crossed his mind.

He studied the canines. Even though he’d rescued the big male, Adam still didn’t like them, and he certainly didn’t trust them, no matter how well trained she claimed them to be. The terror associated with his own vicious attack still lived inside as raw and real as the day it happened.

Ten minutes passed and still no Max Blake. He didn’t know what to do about the dogs in her absence, but he was wet and in need of a hot shower himself, so he decided not to make it his problem and started toward the stairs. The dogs got up and slowly followed. He felt a frissom of panic but took a deep breath, stopped and told them, “Stay.”

They stopped, looked up at him and sat.

Pleased, Adam walked away. The dogs got up and trotted behind him.

Adam said firmly, “You are not going with me. Stay here. She’ll be back.”

This time they didn’t sit. Instead they gave him the impression that they were waiting for him to climb the stairs and that he was just wasting his breath trying to convince them to do otherwise.

Sighing his surrender, he gestured toward the staircase. “Go on, then.”

As if that was all they’d been waiting to hear, they bounded up the steps. Adam shook his head and followed.

To his displeasure, the dogs were now walking up the hallway that led to his room. The workers had left all manner of items stacked up against the wall, and plaster dust was everywhere. When the dogs began to climb his short stairway, he asked testily, “Where the hell do you think you two are going? Go find your mama.”

Adam hadn’t seen or heard anything that indicated Blake’s whereabouts, but the scent of vanilla lingered fragrantly in the air. The dogs were now sitting by the open door of his bedroom. Since he still hadn’t seen Blake, the idea that she might be in his room tightened his jaw. He walked in, the dogs with him, and the canines went straight to the bed where she lay.

“That you, Doc?” she asked groggily. She was lying on her stomach on top of the indigo quilt his mother had given him for his birthday last year. She was wearing a lightweight gray sweatsuit. The top was loose fitting and had short sleeves. “Can you unhook my bra? Arms won’t bend back there. Had to shower in it.”

Adam went still.

The dogs were as close to her as they could get without jumping onto the bed. “Hi guys,” she said softly without moving. “I’ll be better in the morning.” Then she called again. “Doc?”

Adam approached the bed. “Let me go get Kaitlin.”

“Just unhook the damn thing. Please? If the dogs could do it, I’d ask them.”

Adam stood there for a moment and met the eyes of
the dog Ossie. Adam swore the dog shrugged. Taking a deep breath, he walked to the edge of the bed. For a moment he hesitated like a man contemplating a lit stick of dynamite. He ran his eyes over her tall body with its fine behind, and in the end decided to get it over with. He sat down on the bed. Reaching over, he found the clasp through the soft fabric of her top, and the heat of her skin seemed to run up his arms. The vanilla scent he’d noticed in the hall wafted temptingly across his nose. He undid the placard, and the sigh of pleasure she gave in response put a big-time crack in his celibacy vow.

“Thanks,” she said softly, and a blink later she was asleep.

“Hey!” Adam said, alarmed. “You can’t sleep here.”

But she was out. He looked down at the dogs. They made themselves comfortable on the plush rug, rested their heads on their paws, then closed their eyes.

Adam threw up his hands. Mad and outdone, he stomped into the room’s connecting bathroom to take a shower.

When Max heard the water turn on, she smiled sleepily, then drifted off to sleep for real.

Inside the shower stall, Adam washed and simmered. Where the hell was he supposed to sleep now? Truthfully, he hadn’t used the bed in weeks. He’d been crashing on the old sofa in the basement because it was closer to his lab, but that wasn’t the point. The point was: The bed was his, and the only women allowed in it were the ones he was sleeping with. She and her damn dogs were taking over his life, and he couldn’t believe she’d asked him to undo her bra. She acted as if she asked men to do that every day. Maybe she did, but
he didn’t want his name on the list. Her sigh of pleasure when the bra came undone had made him hard as an eighth grader on a school bus, and he wasn’t happy about that, either.

Done with his shower, he shut off the water and grabbed the towel. After drying, he saronged it around his waist and padded barefoot back out into the room. He opened the dresser and pulled out a set of fresh boxers and another T-shirt. Casting an eye over to Ms. Texas sleeping cozily on his bed, he watched her for a moment. Lord, she was fine. That golden brown skin, that tall svelte frame. The green eyes only added to the overall allure. Adam glanced at the dogs. Ossie was watching him back, and Adam jumped. Cursing softly, he resumed his search for socks and a pair of jeans. Ignoring the silent scrutiny of the dog, he carried everything back into the bathroom and dressed. When he was done, he gave Sleeping Beauty one last look, then quietly left the room.

Downstairs, he grabbed his cold dinner and started to the kitchen to warm it up, then remembered the house no longer had a kitchen. He gave another dissatisfied sigh, turned to head down to the cellar and froze. Ossie was sitting in the hallway.

“If you’re trying to scare me to death, you’re doing a damn good job, dog.”

For a moment the two males eyed each other silently. Finally, Adam asked, “What do you want?”

Of course, the dog didn’t answer, Adam shook his head for even starting the conversation, but he felt compelled to say, “Look, I’m scared of you, okay. If you’re messing with me because you sense fear, it’s not funny, my man. Not at all.”

Ossie yawned, then stretched out and settled his head on his paws.

“Aren’t you supposed to be up there guarding the woman who jacked my bed? I don’t blame you for wanting to take a break, though. Being around her has got to be tiring.”

Adam really wanted to go to the lab, but the dog was blocking his exit. “Look, man. Been nice talking to you, but I have work to do. I don’t want to bum-rush you and freak you out but you’re going to have to move so I can get by.”

Ossie stood, turned and walked off.

Adam didn’t know what to think. Had the dog understood his words? Adam now had a clear path. He carried his cold dinner toward the basement stairs, and when he realized Ossie was trotting behind him, he sighed again. Something told him it was useless to try and get rid of the animal, so rather than waste his time and breath, Adam ignored him, but the dog didn’t seem to mind.

Adam stuck his cold dinner into the microwave in his outer office and stashed Blake’s uneaten food in his small dorm-sized fridge. While he ate, he called his mother again, and again got the voice mail. He tried to distract himself by reading some of the scientific journals he’d not had time to check out previously. Every now and then he glanced over at Ossie, who’d made himself comfortable in the doorway. The big dog seemed content even if Adam wasn’t.

By midnight Adam’s eyes were glazing over from all the reading and the lateness of the hour. It had been quite a day; from the construction crews this morning to the threatening e-mail to the evening storm and the
jacking of his bed. He thought about his mother and the woman asleep upstairs. There was no doubt in his mind that if they ever got the chance to meet, they’d instantly like each other. Both were independent spirits with minds of their own. He just hoped the bull-headed one upstairs in his bed hadn’t cracked her spine or injured herself in some other equally serious way. Memories of the vanilla scent she wore came back to mess with him and to remind him that it had been a long time since he’d undone a woman’s brassiere or smelled perfume on her skin. Realizing his mind was taking him down a slippery slope, he pushed the thoughts of her aside and walked over to the big, old-fashioned wooden chest on the floor next to the couch. Lifting the lid, he took out a pillow and a thin blanket. He tossed both onto the tan couch and took off his jeans. Ossie watched silently.

Adam said, “I’m going to bed. If you’re staying, I snore. Just so you’ll know.”

He didn’t want the dog in the room while he was sleeping, but didn’t seem to have much choice in that, either, so he stretched out on the couch, pulled the blanket over him, and doused the lamp on the table near his head. Once he was comfortable, sleep refused to come. His concern that his parents might be in danger kept him wide awake. He tossed and turned for what seemed like hours, then finally his eyes closed and he went to sleep.

Jan Kruger was in the Copenhagen airport waiting for his noon flight back to the States, where the time was approximately six
A
.
M
. He wondered if Dr. Gary had enjoyed the e-mail. Thinking about it made him smile. Truthfully, he hoped the message had scared the
scientist to death, because he planned to use any means necessary to accomplish his goal, even if it involved dangling Lauren Gary’s life as bait.

Eventually, Jan know that he and the good doctor would meet face-to-face, but that time had not come; there were other details to attend to first, such as finding out what the security protocol surrounding Gary’s residence entailed. Was it large, small? Was Gary still living at the address? None of the moles had been able to glean the answers, so the only option left to him and his associates was to send someone to Michigan to take a look around.

After a long and sometimes heated debate, and over his objections, Vlad Oskar had been chosen. Jan didn’t trust him, mainly because the mousy Oskar was not Afrikaner and had no real ties to their cause other than the money he’d been paid. Granted, Oskar’s contacts had been the ones to appropriate Lauren Gary’s screen name so that the threatening e-mail could be sent, and with his background in fuel cell research he’d be the person heading up the analysis of the prototype once Jan’s group finally took possession. However, under pressure, Oskar sweated profusely. He called it a genetic disorder, but Jan thought it stemmed from fear.

However, the others had insisted on using Oskar as their eyes for this mission. No one else in their inner circle had the technical expertise necessary to evaluate the security, and now that their plans were under way, they didn’t want to waste the time or the money bringing in another electronics expert, so the job was Oskar’s. Jan hoped the choice didn’t blow up in their faces. Too much was at stake.

In other developments, his meeting with the arms dealer had been successful. Orders had been placed and money deposited. Between the e-mail to Gary and the fruitful negotiations with the dealer, Jan was feeling rather good. Oskar was a fly in his pudding, but he set that worry aside for now. A few minutes later he was boarding his plane.

Max awakened disoriented and sore. For a moment neither sensation made sense until her brain shook off the last vestiges of sleep and the memories of last night rose up to make everything clear. She gave her spine a short, careful move and was pleased that it felt no worse than it had before she fell asleep. It hurt still, but not with such agony. She wondered if Dr. Gary was still mad about her taking over his bed. She felt guilty about it and promised to make her apologies as soon as she ran into him.

Turning her head on the pillow, Max saw Ruby lying on the floor looking up at her, and she gave the dog a small smile. “Morning, girl. Where’s your brother?”

Ossie wasn’t in the room, but Max was sure he was in the house because if he weren’t Ruby would have let her know the moment he disappeared. Max just hoped that he wasn’t somewhere scaring the hell out of their host. After learning of Adam’s terrible mauling, she planned to be more considerate of the doc’s feelings. But having seen him pick up the 115-pound Ossie during the storm like he weighed no more than a package of Oreos let her know the brother doctor was a lot stronger than the average nerd, and that maybe he wasn’t as afraid of the dogs as he believed.

Max sat up gingerly and slowly swung her feet over
the edge of the bed. Her back protested in a way that let her know more pain meds would be needed just as soon as she found some food. Thinking a hot shower might help with the stiffness, she stood. Ruby stood, too, and looked up expectantly.

Max sighed. “You probably need to go out, don’t you?”

Ruby waited.

“Okay. Go on downstairs. I’ll follow fast as I can.”

Max looked at the clock on his nightstand. Six
A
.
M
. In three hours the workmen would be knocking on the front door and she needed to get it together.