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Authors: Christine Feehan
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art with all that tile. It’s a masterpiece.”
Mack ruffled her hair again, deliberately easing his body farther onto the bed and stretching out his legs. “So, all right, that’s true. The bathroom is a work of art. Even you, Kane, will appreciate it.”
“Joe did it,” she said smugly.
Mack swore under his breath and made a move toward her. She scrambled backward on the bed until her back was against the wall.
“What is all this, Jaimie?” Kane wasn’t going to be polite and wait until she confided in them.
Jaimie drew up her knees, hugged them to her, rocking a little back and forth, her smile enough to blind a man. “The second floor is my lab, where I’ll do all my planning and experimenting. The first floor will be an office, bathroom, and room for my models.”
“Models?” Kane echoed.
“Of buildings. I own a security company. I’ve left Professor Chilton and branched out on my own. I started consulting work with him and now I’m swamped. I prove existing systems can be breached and design systems specifically for corporations. I have some government contracts, as I still do analytical work and retain my security clearance. That’s where all my training comes in. I get to break into these places. It’s very lucrative, not to mention fun.”
“Does Spagnola do this work with you?” Mack’s voice was very low.
“He’s a builder, not an electronics expert,” Jaimie answered. Out of long habit, she rubbed at his frowning mouth with her fingertip. “He’s nice, Mack.”
The trouble was, the feel of him was so achingly familiar. Mack’s lips were velvet soft. He opened his mouth, his strong white teeth nipping her fingertip, sending unexpected liquid heat curling through her body. She snatched her hand away as if he had burned her, rubbing it on her thigh as if erasing his touch.
“It’s dangerous work, honey. Security guards don’t have all that much training. Or worse, if it’s a government enterprise, you might run across an itchy trigger finger somewhere.”
“Oh, please, Mack, let’s not start discussing dangerous jobs.” Jaimie swept her tousled hair from her forehead. The moment she released the silky strands, they settled right back in a soft, thick halo.
“You knew that was coming.” Kane laughed, his head back, uninhibited, the way he always laughed. But his eyes weren’t laughing, Jaimie noted. “And you deserved it.”
“Get your gear out of the middle of the hallway,” Mack said.
“He always resorts to dishing out orders when you get the best of him,” Kane reminded Jaimie.
“Speaking of dishes, clean your mess up,” Jaimie said primly.
“No one was speaking of dishes,” Kane denied. “I said dishing, dishing, you know, like . . .” He trailed off with an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, all right, then, but this is under protest. You used to do our dishes.”
“I was twelve and you blackmailed me,” Jaimie said, scowling darkly at him. “If I didn’t, you weren’t going to let me go to any of the football games.” She tilted her chin. “Now I call the shots.”
“Says who?” Mack flipped her over so she landed on her stomach. Instantly his leg was across her thighs, his upper body pinning her down. He leaned wickedly close, his warm breath on the nape of her neck. “I just let you think you call the shots, honey. I draw the line at this Spagnola character.”
“Mack, let me up.” Jaimie tried not to laugh. She wasn’t going to encourage him. He felt so familiar, so right, but she knew better, and playing around with him was like playing with fire. Sooner or later she was going to get burned. On the other hand, he was waiting for her to fight with him over sharing the bed and she wasn’t going to do it. He would never touch her with Kane in the room. He might want to, but he was exhausted and Kane was a good chaperone. She was safe, and she could act like it meant nothing to her. Let him think it didn’t matter to her at all.
“Will you
Mack ruffled her hair again, deliberately easing his body farther onto the bed and stretching out his legs. “So, all right, that’s true. The bathroom is a work of art. Even you, Kane, will appreciate it.”
“Joe did it,” she said smugly.
Mack swore under his breath and made a move toward her. She scrambled backward on the bed until her back was against the wall.
“What is all this, Jaimie?” Kane wasn’t going to be polite and wait until she confided in them.
Jaimie drew up her knees, hugged them to her, rocking a little back and forth, her smile enough to blind a man. “The second floor is my lab, where I’ll do all my planning and experimenting. The first floor will be an office, bathroom, and room for my models.”
“Models?” Kane echoed.
“Of buildings. I own a security company. I’ve left Professor Chilton and branched out on my own. I started consulting work with him and now I’m swamped. I prove existing systems can be breached and design systems specifically for corporations. I have some government contracts, as I still do analytical work and retain my security clearance. That’s where all my training comes in. I get to break into these places. It’s very lucrative, not to mention fun.”
“Does Spagnola do this work with you?” Mack’s voice was very low.
“He’s a builder, not an electronics expert,” Jaimie answered. Out of long habit, she rubbed at his frowning mouth with her fingertip. “He’s nice, Mack.”
The trouble was, the feel of him was so achingly familiar. Mack’s lips were velvet soft. He opened his mouth, his strong white teeth nipping her fingertip, sending unexpected liquid heat curling through her body. She snatched her hand away as if he had burned her, rubbing it on her thigh as if erasing his touch.
“It’s dangerous work, honey. Security guards don’t have all that much training. Or worse, if it’s a government enterprise, you might run across an itchy trigger finger somewhere.”
“Oh, please, Mack, let’s not start discussing dangerous jobs.” Jaimie swept her tousled hair from her forehead. The moment she released the silky strands, they settled right back in a soft, thick halo.
“You knew that was coming.” Kane laughed, his head back, uninhibited, the way he always laughed. But his eyes weren’t laughing, Jaimie noted. “And you deserved it.”
“Get your gear out of the middle of the hallway,” Mack said.
“He always resorts to dishing out orders when you get the best of him,” Kane reminded Jaimie.
“Speaking of dishes, clean your mess up,” Jaimie said primly.
“No one was speaking of dishes,” Kane denied. “I said dishing, dishing, you know, like . . .” He trailed off with an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, all right, then, but this is under protest. You used to do our dishes.”
“I was twelve and you blackmailed me,” Jaimie said, scowling darkly at him. “If I didn’t, you weren’t going to let me go to any of the football games.” She tilted her chin. “Now I call the shots.”
“Says who?” Mack flipped her over so she landed on her stomach. Instantly his leg was across her thighs, his upper body pinning her down. He leaned wickedly close, his warm breath on the nape of her neck. “I just let you think you call the shots, honey. I draw the line at this Spagnola character.”
“Mack, let me up.” Jaimie tried not to laugh. She wasn’t going to encourage him. He felt so familiar, so right, but she knew better, and playing around with him was like playing with fire. Sooner or later she was going to get burned. On the other hand, he was waiting for her to fight with him over sharing the bed and she wasn’t going to do it. He would never touch her with Kane in the room. He might want to, but he was exhausted and Kane was a good chaperone. She was safe, and she could act like it meant nothing to her. Let him think it didn’t matter to her at all.
“Will you
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