“Okay, okay…” Clint held up a hand to stop the conversation. “You guys are giving me a headache.” He blew out a breath. “If Warner is using the suit under his normal, everyday clothing, he’s incorporated a cooling system and some type of power controller to regulate the amount of heat he generates. The iron can pinpoint it, but to disarm it, you’d need to take out the controller without causing the hydrogen to become unstable. Otherwise, you’d have another Paul Warner on your hands.”
He held up a finger. “I also want to point out that we’re dealing with my research and the person that paid for it.
I want it back.”
Mitchell said, “You’ll have your research, Robinson.”
“Most important of all, Saint,” Clint said, “heat is your kryptonite. Once heat reaches Curie point, your magnetic powers start to weaken. Your Curie point is three hundred and ten Celsius.”
“He’d be well dead by then, wouldn’t he?” Dar leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.
“Not with Warner’s ability to pinpoint it. If he can do that and control temperature, all it would take is another handshake to destroy Saint’s flesh and disable his powers.”
“That’s assuming Warner knows about his powers…” Aidan said.
Rose gave a sarcastic chuckle. “Oh, he knows, Monroe. He had a front row seat for Saint’s circus performance.”
“So, how do we stop him?” Natalie said on a sigh.
Riordan looked at her. “
We
? There’s no we about it.”
“She’s right,” Mitchell said, leaning back to lock his hands behind his head. “If Warner wants to deepen their relationship, we need to give him that opportunity.”
“Over my stiff carcass,” Riordan cried. “She’s not going anywhere near him.”
Natalie turned to face him, a deep frown over her swirling green-gold eyes. “Um, Riordan. That could be a problem.”
He pulled back his head. “Why?”
“He’s my date to the fundraiser.”
#####
Dan Meeks stared across the lunch table at John Warner. They sat in an upscale restaurant in downtown San Diego, surrounded by the workday lunch crowd. He refused to meet him in private anymore.
The asshole’s attempt at blackmail infuriated him. He’d gotten him the grant, stalled Powers’ licenses and patents, and encouraged his daughter to date him. Giving Warner more grant money would set a never-ending expectation he wouldn’t be able to deliver.
Put that on top of Frederick Richey skipping the country and Powers out for his ass, and he had more shit up his leg than a fertilizer farm.
His phone rang. Natalie.
“Hi, Kitten,” Dan said into the phone. “How’s the leg?”
“Much better, Dad. When are you getting into town?”
He took a bite of his asparagus and wiped his mouth with his white napkin. “I’m here. I’m having lunch with John Warner, as we speak.”
“Oh, good. Can you ask him what time he’s picking me up for the fundraiser tomorrow night?”
Dan frowned at Warner. “You’re taking Natalie to the fundraiser?”
Warner’s head popped up, his brows high on his forehead. “I thought she’d… forgotten.”
“Tell him I’d love to go, if he hasn’t found another date.”
Dan nodded at Warner.
He gave a superior grin.
“He’ll pick you up tomorrow night at six-thirty, Kitten.”
“Okay. See you then.” Natalie hung up.
Storing his phone in his breast pocket, Dan didn’t know how he felt about that. He’d considered Warner an ally until this blackmail attempt. The idea of him alone with Natalie didn’t sit well. What if he tried to hurt her?
He took a swig of whiskey. Desperate didn’t begin to describe Warner these days. Dan was convinced the man would stop at nothing to get the money he needed to save his company.
“I want you to announce my engagement to Natalie tomorrow night.”
Dan’s gaze shot to Warner. With slow, careful movements, he set down his glass. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Elbows on the table, Warner folded his hands in front of him. “Tomorrow night, I want you to announcement our engagement - and my donation of one hundred thousand dollars to your campaign.”
A laugh bubbled up from Dan’s belly to spew from his mouth. The man had completely fallen off his rocker. “And where the hell would you get the money?”
“From the grant you’re acquiring for me.” Reaching into his suit pocket, Warner pulled out a ring box. Opening it, he set it on the table to face Dan.
“It’s the ring Paul bought for Natalie. I didn’t see any reason to let it go to waste.”
Dan plopped back in his chair, away from the table. What a sick bastard.
“I told you I couldn’t get the money.”
Warner gave a sarcastic, half smile. “You will. Once Natalie and I are married, I’ll have Paul’s money again and the company will get back on track.”
Rubbing his forehead, Dan took another drink of whiskey. “Natalie has never been one to do anything she didn’t want to do.”
Warner reached for a roll and a pad of butter. “She’ll marry me. It’s that, or I kill her boyfriend.”
Dropping his fork on his plate with a clang, Dan stared at Warner. Murder?
“What boyfriend?”
“Riordan St. James. The
real
Riordan St. James.” He laughed as though he knew an inside joke. “You wouldn’t want Powers as part of the family, now would you, Meeks?”
Hell, he wouldn’t put it past Powers to use Natalie to get back at him. The more he thought about it, he could handle Powers’ ruthless arrogance.
Warner’s unstable mind scared the shit out of him.
“If she has a boyfriend, why would she go to the fundraiser with you?”
Warner stopped buttering his roll to stare at him. “I’m curious about that, myself.”
Dan sighed.
He was screwed
. He had Luke Powers after him for planting an imposter in his company… and his life. He had Warner blackmailing him for money and his daughter. If he didn’t give Warner what he wanted, he could hurt Natalie, and his relationship with Mitchell Jacobs. If he did it, Warner would frame him for the murder of Riordan St. James, which would probably stick, considering he’d planted the imposter in the first place. He’d also ruin his relationship with his only child.
The presidency would never happen.
He held his knife in a white-knuckled grip. A rodent like Warner wouldn’t bring him down. No way in hell. He’d survived bigger enemies and tougher spots in the past – hell, he’d survived an attempted assassination by Mills.
Dan grinned mentally. He was saving that golden nugget for a week before the election. Releasing the emails from Richey would assure him his office. Once he renewed for another term, he’d start his bid for the presidency.
He hadn’t gone through years of planning to give up now. He’d just begun to fight.
Withdrawals plagued Riordan like a bad case of hives. He hadn’t seen Natalie since earlier that morning when he’d dropped her at the D.I.R.E. San Diego office to take a cab home. Logic had told him they couldn’t afford to have Warner see them together.
Logic, he decided, could go to hell.
Tugging at his tuxedo sleeve, he watched as the hotel ballroom slowly filled with Meeks’ supporters. Knowing he could track her by the GPS device on her bracelet didn’t alleviate his worry. Knowing she was only miles away didn’t appease him either.
Knowing she rode in the back seat of a limousine with John Warner made him want to stick his fist through the wall.
“Saint,” Rose said, over his earpiece, “your daddy just arrived.”
His gut fluttered like a playing card in the spokes of a tire. Meeting his father for the first time would be nothing short of damned awkward. From what he and Natalie had read, Luke Powers was a ruthless, albeit extraordinarily successful, businessman.
After cancer had left him widowed with a daughter, he went into seclusion, other than the occasional fight with Dan Meeks and government regulatory commissions. Tonight could get interesting.
Riordan released a deep breath. “What’s his M.O.?”
“Arrived in his own wheels, the same two bodyguards we met the other day, a driver, and… a date.”
Riordan straightened away from the wall. “Really?”
“Mid-twenties, white blonde hair, navy blue dress and cleavage. Lots of cleavage.”
“Damn, the old man still has it.” Riordan chuckled.
“Unless she’s after his mon-“
The line went silent.
“Rose...
Rose
?”
Jaydan spoke in a low voice. “She looked right at me, Saint.”
“Who?” Riordan frowned as he stared across the room at the stage.
“I’m standing fifty feet away, surrounded by people and it was like… she
zeroed in
on me. I don’t know. I’m freaking losing it. They’re on their way in.”
Riordan’s armband vibrated. He pulled up his sleeve. Natalie had arrived. Thank God. Relief rushed through him.
“Rose, Natalie is here. Do you see her?”
The line remained silent. Riordan clenched his fists at his sides. Could Rose take any longer to respond?
“Rose.” His voice came out as a growl.
“Hold up. There’re a lot of people arriving right now.”
“Mitchell and Angela just arrived with Naylor. Too bad Jacobs and Monroe got called out by the Prime Minister and had to miss all the fun. Damn, Mitchell cleaned up nice.”
Riordan gritted his teeth. “Dammit, I don’t want the red carpet review. Do you see Meeks?”
“Hold on…
shit
...”
The airwaves remained silent for what seemed like a half century.
“Ho-o-ly
shit
.”
Dread dropped like a rock in his stomach. Riordan headed for the door. “What? What happened?”
“You poor sap.” Rose’s voice held a humorous tone. “Natalie is freaking
smokin
’ tonight. You’re going to shit a brick.”
Stopping short, Riordan cursed a blue streak. Of course. The one night he couldn’t touch her. The one night he was supposed to ignore her.
The one night she was with another man.
He cursed a blue streak in his head.
“Headed your way, Saint.” Rose signed off.
Looking around, Riordan’s eyes scanned the room for dark copper hair. His orders were to ignore her. Mitchell had posted Rose onsite to keep tabs on her.
He couldn’t turn it off. His heart, his mind, wouldn’t rest until he saw her safe.
“Riordan?”
His gaze darted to the man that had come up beside him. Damn. It was
him
. He could feel it, some weird, unspoken connection that told him Luke Powers was his father.
That damned logic told him the thought made absolutely no sense. Yet, how did he ignore the intense feeling of familiarity?
Giving a brief nod, he held out his hand. “Powers?”
As soon as their hands touched, tears popped into Powers’ eyes. He yanked Riordan toward him, giving him a brief hug and pat on the back. The woman at his side beamed at Riordan.
Yeah, definitely damned awkward.
Powers cleared his throat. “Sorry.” He gave him a sheepish grin. “I’ve searched for you a long time.”
What did he say to that? It felt far more comfortable to be ignored, to be the loner. To matter to no one.
Powers pulled the woman forward. “This is your half-sister, Hope.”
Riordan’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. Sister.
He had a family.
She held out a small hand to him, her wrist covered in diamond bracelets of various sizes. Long, white-blonde hair was flipped back from her face, her eyes a pale, ice green. He’d never seen eyes quite like hers.
It was no wonder Powers had accepted Richey as his son. He had pale blonde hair like Hope.
Accepting her hand, Riordan smiled when one of her bracelets snapped against his flesh. “Hope.”
Her eyes widened as she stared at their linked hands. Her gaze shot to his. “His hands are
magnetic
, Dad.”
Surprise rooted Riordan to the spot. Hope said it with such casual ease.
Her brows furrowed. “Which means my jeweler gypped me on this bracelet. It’s supposed to be platinum.”
Riordan stifled a laugh as Luke’s eyebrows shot up.
Luke said, “We’ve watched your video several times and wondered how you flipped the car. What the hell has Jacobs done to you?”
A flash of red caught his eye. Glancing beyond Hope’s shoulder, Riordan did a double take…
And cursed under his breath like an Olympic champion.
Natalie hung on the arm of John Warner, looking classy, elegant – and sexy as hell. Her glorious copper hair fell to the middle of her back in thick, luxurious waves, a diamond clip above one ear. She wore a one-shouldered, red silk dress that hugged every succulent curve, a long slit up her right thigh. The same shade of red covered her lips, her eyes rimmed in black coal. A webbed, satin nickel cuff covered her bare bicep, matching the GPS bracelet on her other wrist.
Warner’s eyes shown with pride as all eyes shot their way.
Dammit to
hell
. He would chew her up one side and down the other for showing up on another man’s arm dressed to kill.
Following his gaze, Powers and Hope turned back around to face him.
“That’s Meeks’ daughter.” Powers’ tone held a dismissive tone. “You don’t want to go there.”
His gaze shot to Luke.
Too late, Mitchell Jr
. He planned to go there the rest of his life. He didn’t want to live without her.
“She’s beautiful,” Hope said, with a knowing smile. “And a redhead. A win-win combination.”
Luke breathed through his nose. “There’s no need to look beyond her last name.”
Riordan lifted a corner of his mouth. He planned to change that, too.
Natalie’s gaze met his across the room. His heart lurched. Riordan hoped his anger shown loud and clear in his face.
You’re in a lot of trouble.
She looked away.
“Riordan, I’d hoped you’d sit with us tonight. I bought you a seat.”
With great effort, he tore his gaze from Natalie. “I can do that but I have other responsibilities, too.”
Luke frowned at him. “Does Mitchell have you working? Is something going on?”
Riordan gave a brief shake of his head. “Nothing you need to worry about.” He held out his elbow to Hope in invitation. “Shall we?”
With a bright smile, Hope linked her arm through his as they weaved through the tables. “I’m so excited to have a big brother, Riordan.”
He could only stare at her as Luke held out a chair for Hope. Big brother. What did a big brother do that excited her so much? He had no freaking clue.
The scent of ocean breeze hit Riordan a second later. He stiffened.
“Powers.”
Riordan winced inside. He wanted an up close and personal of Natalie and Warner about as much as he wanted another whip lashing.
Warner stood on the opposite side of the round table, Natalie on his arm. His voice held a cordial tone, his eyes a tomb of daring and hatred. “What a surprise to see you here.”
Luke braced his hands on the back of Hope’s chair. “Warner.” His gaze shot to Natalie. “Dr. Meeks.”
Natalie’s soft voice shot a moment of contentment through Riordan’s veins. “Mr. Powers.” She held out her hand across the table. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
Before Luke could reach her hand, Warner backed her away.
“This is my daughter, Hope, and I think you both know Mr. St. James.”
Natalie and Hope shared a smile before Meeks’ eyes met his. Lifting her chin, she looked away without a word.
The urge to strangle her tightened his fists. He should put an end to his freaking misery and plant one on her in front of everyone.
“Yes,” Warner said, with a nod of acknowledgment. “St. James.”
Reluctantly, Riordan looked at Warner. He wanted to beat that superior grin off his freaking face.
“That was quite a show you put on the other day, Mr. St. James.”
Hope and Luke turned to him with wide, questioning eyes.
“Just part of the job, Warner.”
Natalie stiffened, her gaze on John.
Riordan held out a hand toward her. “She’s here now. Safe, sound-“
“And, by my side.” Warner kissed her cheek. “Where she belongs.”
That
motherf -
Riordan held Warner’s gaze. He’d kill him. Before this all ended, the man would be face down, in the dirt.
“John, we need to get back to my father.” Natalie smiled at Hope, then Luke. “It was a pleasure meeting both of you. I hope we get to visit more later.” Her beautiful gaze moved to him. “Riordan.” She dismissed him without a backward glance.
“I can’t say I’m sad to see her give you the cold shoulder,” Powers said. “You’re better off.”
Riordan unleashed on him, his words clipped and low. “Save the caring father routine, Powers. You may, and I mean
may
, be my birth father, but you’ve been no father to me. Natalie Meeks is the best person I know. I’d be damned lucky if she’d have me.”
Hope gave him a tender smile, her pale green eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re in love with her.”
Love. Hell, he didn’t even know what that word meant. If it meant becoming obsessed with another person, wanting to give them everything they hoped for, and the willingness to die so they could live then, yes. He loved Natalie Meeks. With every jealous, fearful bone in his body.
Powers glared at him, his blue eyes razor sharp, his mouth pinched. “Let’s get one thing straight, here and now. I didn’t even know you existed until two years ago. My father kept it from me. Do you know how I found out about you, Riordan? In his freaking will. He confessed to keeping Annie from me, convincing her I was better off without a wife and child at my young age. And she bought it.” The tears returned to his eyes. “We were both nineteen but
I
was too young? She took on the responsibility for both of us.” He cursed under his breath. “If I had known, I would’ve been there, Riordan. I would’ve married Annie – I loved her.”
Riordan stood stock still, rendered speechless. He’d been kept from his father by his own grandfather. The same man that had him sent away. What kind of beast did he descend from?
Hope rubbed Powers’ arm in consolation, her eyes on Riordan. “Grandpa paid your mother to have your name changed – and hers. He’d succeeded in severing all ties – until your other grandfather showed up about ten years ago, wanting money. Jack Crawford blackmailed Grandpa for years until he had you sent away.”
Reeling from the shock, Riordan leaned back his head and squeezed his eyes shut. His grandfather and his stinking drug addiction. He’d sacrificed his only child’s son for his high. Why was he surprised?
“And you didn’t think to have DNA tests done on Richey?”
Powers shook his head with a grimace. “He showed up a few months after Crawford died with your original birth certificate, the legal documents on your name change, and a ring I had given Annie when we were together that summer. I didn’t have reason to question it.” His troubled gaze shot to Riordan. “Until Mitchell requested identification on you a few weeks ago.”
Riordan said, “And now you’re at a fundraiser for the man that put Richey there.”
Power’s nostrils flared. “Believe me, we wouldn’t be here if you’d given me another option.”
“I didn’t want to come either, Riordan.” Hope gazed at him with solemn eyes, her voice low. “I saw Dan Meeks on fire. His shoulders were consumed in flames.”
“What?” Confusion warred with doubt in his head.