Fascination

Sage’s hands were shaking now, and the note fell from her hands to the floor. She stared at the disk, her heart in her throat. She didn’t need a computer to know what was on it—it was the thing that would take away her freedom for good.

3

IAN WASN’T QUITE SURE what he was going to do; he decided to just play it by ear and see what developed. He’d let a couple hours pass so that she wouldn’t get suspicious. But he’d been watching. She’d brought the package home, and he’d watched her through the window as she’d read something, seen her bend to retrieve an object she’d dropped on the floor. He wanted to know what it was.

His knock on the door received no response, but he knew she was in there and rapped his knuckles on the wood door again, harder. This time the door opened, his hand held up in midknock. Sage glared at him, seeming agitated but not surprised by his appearance.

“What do you want? It’s late.”

“Well, isn’t that a charming way to answer the door.”

“I don’t need to be charming with you.”

“True, and I don’t need to explain a random visit. Open up.”

Ian watched her move to the side and noted the tension in her stance and her expression. Something was definitely up. It wasn’t completely unprecedented for her to display bad temper when he showed up unexpectedly, but this was different.

She was guarded, protective. He could see it in the way she wrapped her slim arms around her midsection and how her eyes met his with their usual belligerence but none of the sexy challenge he usually encountered.

She was scared. He wanted to know why and of what. Of him? Of being caught? Or of something else?

“Everything go well today?”

“Jesus, Ian, I just reported in yesterday. Is it the usual practice to harass your people when they get close to the end of their sentences?”

“You’re making a pretty big deal over a random visit. And here I thought you were always glad to see me.”

The uncharacteristic flirtation, laconic as it was, triggered confusion in those green eyes, and he watched her lower her head before perusing the room.

“You mind if I look around?”

“You mean I have a choice?”

“No.”

Then something of the old Sage snapped into place, and she dropped her arms, placing one hand on her hip. “Yeah, I figured. Just try not to get too turned on by my bras hanging in the shower.”

Sliding her a look, he moved forward, going through the motions as he picked up a pile of mail and glanced through it, then at her calendar. No appointments slotted in for today, nothing she should have missed work for.

“You didn’t go into work today.” Looking up, he saw her slight surprise. Good.

“I wanted a day off.”

“Doctor’s appointment?”

“What, you want to know the results of my Pap smear?”

“I just wondered why you took the day off. They said you’d given final notice, as well.”

She leaned against the doorway, the white cotton T-shirt she was wearing pulling across her breasts as she stuck one hand in the pocket of her shorts. The little colorful clips that held some of her wild curls in place made her look impossibly young.

“Yeah. I did.” Her chin tipped up in challenge. “I hate it there. I’m leaving after my sentence is over, so you have no say in the matter. I want out of that place and away from you as soon as possible. I’m looking for a new job.”

“So that’s what you were out doing? Job hunting?” Made sense, he thought, remembering her outfit. Though it could also just be a cover for whatever else she was up to.

He’d checked out all the visible surfaces—no envelope. She’d hidden it or destroyed it, which made him even more suspicious. He’d have to do an extensive search to find it, but he couldn’t look around more than normal without raising her suspicions. He wanted to keep her off guard for the time being.

He continued his inspection, not really looking around so much as mentally scrambling to come up with a plan. He frowned. He had one idea, though it wasn’t a good one. He crossed back to where she stood, waiting for an answer to his question.

“Yeah, actually I had an interview, if you must know.”

“With whom?”

“Meyers and Dunn.”

Ian furrowed his brow. He’d met Jim Meyers once or twice at social affairs. He didn’t like him. The guy was a sleaze who didn’t even bother to hide it, married but never showing up to occasions with his wife. And the flavor of the month was usually someone just barely legal.

“For what position?”

“Whatever they have available.”

Ian didn’t even want to think about what positions Jim Meyers might have available for a woman like Sage. He made a mental note to check up on her application and drop a warning Jim’s way. Then he reconsidered—her job hunt was not important and was probably just a cover story anyway.

“Don’t you think it’s putting the cart ahead of the horse to quit before you have a job?”

“Please, Ian, I’m too old and you’re too young to be acting like my father.”

Sage pushed away from the wall, and awareness dawned on him immediately. She’d been guarding that entryway—that’s where she didn’t want him to go. He looked down at her, gauging his next move. She appeared more slight than she usually did, the way the worn cotton just hinted at the even softer shapes underneath distracting him for a moment.

He didn’t particularly like what he was about to do, but it was the only thing he could think of. He modulated his voice a bit, stepping slightly closer. She smelled like heaven. It made his job easier—and much more difficult.

“Believe me, darlin’, I don’t feel any paternal inclinations toward you at all.”

She met his eyes then, and he saw the curiosity fighting with the caution. Then he blinked, and she turned to her old tricks, definitely trying to challenge him. She’d seen her chance and she was going for it. Fine—two could play that game. And he’d been at it longer. He might only be seven years older than she was, but in terms of experience, that was a lifetime.

“Good, because I’m all grown up, Ian.” She stretched her arms over her head, yawning, and he watched as her shirt lifted, exposing her stomach, pulling taut across her breasts. Did the woman ever wear the bras that were supposedly hanging in the bathroom? Not that he cared. The less she was covered up, the better.

Reaching forward, he caught her raised hands in the air, trapping both of her wrists in one of his large hands and holding them there. Startled, she tried to pull away, but he didn’t let her.

His heart slammed against his chest, his breath coming a little short as he felt her hip nudge him intimately, her scent suffusing the air around him. But while his body was responding of its own accord, his mind was in total control. Ian was confident—he never lost control unless he wanted to.

He wanted to find out what was in that package and he couldn’t think of a better way to gain entrance to that room. She’d been using her sexuality to distract him for a long time, to chip away at his control—what would she do if she thought she’d finally succeeded in making him lose it? If she were confident that she had finally gotten to him, would she drop her guard? He decided to find out.

And if he was honest with himself, he wanted to find out more than that. He wanted to know her taste, to know how she felt under his hands, to know if she was as sweet as he imagined. He’d been fantasizing about sinking his hands into those copper waves and he wanted to do it, to know if she was as silky as she looked. It was wrong, but as long as he stayed in control, he could ease some of the curiosity that plagued him, this once. It was a calculated risk, but he’d taken them before.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Her voice was breathless, and while her eyes were still guarded her face became rosy, and her nipples budded against the T-shirt. So it wasn’t all a charade—she was attracted to him. At least physically. That was enough.

Though she was obviously deceiving him about other things, she couldn’t hide her desire for him. Basic male satisfaction with that fact settled deep inside of him, and he hardened, stepping even closer to let her feel his response. Her eyes deepened to a mossy jade, and he fought an unexpected spike of desire. He needed to stay in control of the game.