Skin Tight (14 page)

Before she could make further plans, a knock sounded. She sighed, thinking it was a friend of the old couple who didn’t know they’d gone to Arizona already. Mia didn’t bother with a robe; it wouldn’t take long to get rid of the unwanted caller.

“I’m sorry,” she began, flinging open the door.

It wasn’t a stranger, at least not entirely. Since she’d come home, it must’ve started to rain because droplets glistened on his hair, gilding his skin. His eyes glittered like the sea, threatening to drown her. He took in the picture she presented in silly pajamas, furry slippers, and a schoolgirl’s ponytail, and a teasing smile curved his mouth.

“Why are you sorry?”

“I thought you were someone else,” she muttered.

“Someone to whom you needed to apologize, I take it. May I come in?”

She clenched her jaw. How could she have ever thought she wanted him? He was fiercely aggravating. Mia didn’t bother asking how he’d found her. As HR director, he had access to all personnel information, including home addresses. If their situation were normal, she could sue him for harassment over a stunt like this. Since it wasn’t, she stepped back and waved him in.

“What do you want?”

“Would you believe me if I said you?”

“I’d think it was a nice line.” Mia shut the door behind him, trying not to color up over the way she looked. This was too close to reality for her tastes. At his place, she could pretend it was a fantasy interlude, nothing that would ever touch her real life, and yet here he was in her living room.

“These are for you.” He produced a bouquet of pink flowers, their petals glimmering with raindrops.

For a moment, she simply stared. Nobody had
ever
brought her flowers. It was the most ridiculous, courtly gesture. Part of her melted as she took them and fumbled in the kitchen for a vase.

“They’re camellias,” he said, sounding as nervous as she felt. “In the Ming dynasty, they were called the ‘most beautiful flower under the heavens.’ ”

“So you brought them to me?”

“Yes. It seemed fitting, as you’re the most beautiful woman under the heavens.”

Another line, but he delivered it with conviction.

A fist tightened around her heart. “Tell me why you came.”

“Very well. I have a proposal for you.”

Søren loathed the
necessity of this. If there had been any alternative, he wouldn’t be here. It went against his better judgment to share even a portion of his secrets, but there was no way around it. She wouldn’t help him blindly, if she lent her assistance at all, and he’d already wasted months at Micor—and he was no closer to achieving his objective than when he’d hired on. At this rate, he could spend the rest of his life as Thomas Strong.

He took a seat at her gestured invitation. She sat across from him in a recliner. Fuzzy slippers peeped out from the overlong legs of her flannel pajamas.

“Are you suggesting a partnership?” she asked. “To what end?”

“You can get into the lab. I need to see what’s there.”

Her expression hardened. “Why?”

There was no help for it. He had to tell the truth. “I suspect Micor is conducting illegal experiments on human beings. I want to stop them.”

“What are you, Batman? You go around righting wrongs?”

Despite his tension, he smiled. “Something like that. But latex gives me a rash.”

Mia bit her lip, thoughtful. Søren wanted a taste, wanted to lick her lower lip until she kissed him back. He’d thought she could get no sexier than when she was bound to his bed, but tonight she had a touchable quality that made him want to pull her into his lap and bury his face in her throat. He set his hands on his knees to resist the impulse.

“If what you say is true, then they need to be stopped. We should inform the authorities at once.”

Søren sighed. He’d been afraid of this. “And tell them what? Our suspicions?”

What he planned for the Foundation did not involve the police or any civilized idea of justice. He wanted fire and blood, but he didn’t tell Mia that. He knew how far he could safely push her.

She frowned. “You’re right. We need evidence first, don’t we?”

“Which I can’t obtain unless I get inside the lab.”

“And that’s why you need my help,” she realized aloud. “I can get hold of the IT pass, which in conjunction with my ID badge will get us through the first security doors. But did you know there’s another set of doors past the computer lab? I don’t think my badge will work there.”

“Didn’t that raise red flags for you? What kind of facility is set up like that?”

“It did, actually, but I’m not being paid to wonder.”

That made him tense. “And it always comes down to money for you? Do you care about nothing more?”

“Easy for you to say,” she snapped. “I bet you always had plenty. You have that air about you.”

He blinked, surprised. “What air?”

“Old money. Culture.”

Though he was flattered, she had it wrong. There might linger some old-world habits, taught by his parents, but he certainly wasn’t aristocracy. Søren made a calculated decision to share a few facts. “Wrong. I’m the child of Danish immigrants. I was born in Copenhagen. We came to Minnesota when I was three.”

Two years later, he received the free vaccinations that changed everything. But he wouldn’t tell her that. That data would provide the link, explaining his obsession with Micor. Clever as she was, she’d make the connection between his curse and the facility he was determined to destroy. He walked a thin line; there was danger she would make that leap even without the missing piece. Where Mia was concerned, he needed to be careful. He couldn’t afford to underestimate her.

“Oh.” She seemed nonplussed, but at least she’d forgotten her embarrassment. “Then I’ll ask the obvious question: What’s in it for me?”

Fortunately, he’d expected that. “I’ll help you track down the thief. You can complete the job just before I make my move inside the facility. If we time it correctly, no one will ever know you were involved.”

“How do you figure?”

“You steal the IT pass and turn it over to me, along with your ID. You’ll depart, contract completed, leaving me the resources I need to go forward.”

As plans went, it wasn’t perfect. He’d examined the doors leading into the lab and determined he could crack them as a last resort. But he preferred to enter quietly, reserving violence for those who deserved it. The security guards would try to stop him if the alarms went off, and his gift didn’t include mind control. He couldn’t persuade the guards there was no one present if they expected a burglar. Søren didn’t want innocent lives lost; he just wanted the guilty to pay.

Therefore, he needed to bring equipment to crack the next set of security doors, if the passes didn’t work, as Mia predicted. Such an act would effectively kill his cover, so he had to make sure he tied up all loose ends before going in.

Including Lexie and Beulah May.

God, Lexie.
He didn’t know if he could do it, even now. Her doctors were positive there was no hope, but the prospect of saying farewell hurt him. Yet he’d always known it would come to this. One final act, writ in ashes and death. He certainly wouldn’t tell Mia that. She wouldn’t like knowing she was easing his way in a suicide mission.

“You receive the greater benefit in this arrangement,” Mia said. “You need me, but
I
have plenty of time to uncover the embezzler. What makes you think I need your help?”

She was a skilled negotiator. Devalue the opponent’s position: check. Leave him nothing to bargain with. He smiled, fighting down his very distracting desire. Part of him would like to say,
To hell with this,
and carry her to the bedroom upstairs.

He leaned back, propping his ankle on his knee. “You’ll never find him. Or her. Without my assistance.”

Mia narrowed her eyes, as if she took that as a slight on her intellect, abilities, or possibly both. “Is that so?”

“Who are your suspects?”

Still scowling, she rattled off the names. It amused him just how far from the mark she was. “It’s not a regular employee. Not anyone in Accounting.”

Puzzlement flickered. “What are you saying?”

“No. I tell you nothing more until I get your agreement. Do we have a deal?”

She sat forward, staring at him so hard he felt slightly unnerved. “How do I know you’re not conning me?”

“You don’t. But the alternative is spinning your wheels for ninety days, only to discover I was right, you were wrong. Now you’ve botched the job, and your lovely, spotless record has a big blemish.”

By the way she stiffened, he knew he’d hit a sore spot. “That’s emotional blackmail.”

“If you’re confident you’re on the right track—that Micor is just like any other workplace—and you’ll have this sorted in no time, then tell me to go. Right now.” His eyes on hers, he leaned forward as well, elbows on his knees. “No? Then tell me you haven’t noticed how things are around there.”

“It’s wrong,” she admitted, low. “And I don’t think this theft fits the usual pattern.”

“Before I came in, you were wishing you hadn’t taken the job.”

“I get it; you’re smart. You can predict what people will say and do. You can read how they’re feeling.” Her dark gaze speared him. “But that doesn’t make you any happier, does it? It doesn’t fill you with warmth or take away the loneliness. You could’ve asked about this in the parking lot after work. Instead, you’re on my doorstep on a dark and rainy night, bearing flowers. You know what that says? You want to be with me, but you don’t know how to make it happen any other way. You’ve been alone so long, you’ve forgotten how to reach out to someone without a scheme.”

Bare-bones, naked. Søren stilled, hearing the truth in her words. He
did
want her. Another night with a woman who knew him, for all he didn’t deserve it. Mia left him feeling like a beggar at the gate, chastised for gazing too long upon the queen.

“You’re right,” he said. “There’s clear conflict between my claims and my actions. If this had been strictly business in my mind, I wouldn’t have come so late. I wouldn’t have brought flowers.”

But he’d glimpsed them in a store window while passing through town to her condo. He’d imagined the petals falling on her skin and couldn’t resist stopping. Telling himself it was only polite to bring a gift on a first visit, he bought them for her and continued on, stomach knotting over the fierce pleasure he felt at the idea of seeing her again.

Outside work. Yielding to temptation left him feeling off-balance and desperate. Søren felt he’d say anything to get her to agree to his company, under any circumstances. He wasn’t using her; he
needed
her. The distinction terrified him.

She nodded as if he’d gone up a notch in her estimation by conceding the point. “I believe you want my help. But what
else
?”

The question opened doors in his mind that had been closed for years.

Mia didn’t think
he’d answer.

He studied her for long moments, and she was acutely aware of her attire. At least he hadn’t laughed. In her experience, men didn’t want the truth of a woman, just the polished version she presented to the world. When they glimpsed the real thing, they ran like hell. But he wasn’t running. Instead, there was a focused look to him, as if he’d just realized his proximity to a goal.

“Shall I be completely candid?” he asked softly.

“By all means.”

“I’d like to be with you. Not one night. Every night for the foreseeable future.”

Her breath caught. “Clarify.”

He gazed at his hands folded before him, a brooding pose that hinted at tension. “I want to have dinner with you. Watch movies. Make love to you for hours.”

“That sounds like a relationship. Is that what you’re asking for?”

God knew, she should say no. She had no reason to trust him,
every
reason to hate him, but where he was concerned, logic went out the window and it always had. Mia suspected it was because he needed her. So few people did.

She’d constructed her life like that for a reason; other than her friendship with Kyra, she avoided ties like the plague. In college, she’d learned the hard way that she didn’t have what it took to make lasting relationships work.

He shook his head. “A relationship implies some hope of permanence. I can’t offer that. You should know that going in.”

“An interlude, then.” Whatever he called it, she wanted to say yes, despite her misgivings. For once, she’d like to live in the moment and not consider consequences.

“Yes,” he murmured. “A bit of brightness to keep the world at bay.”

“Is your world so dire?”

His eyes were stark, like moonlight on ice. “Yes.”

“I don’t know why I don’t hate you,” she said then. “I should.”