T
rap stood just outside the tall chain-link fence surrounding his home. There was satisfaction in finally getting the renovations finished enough that he could live and work there. The building was massive. He liked space. He needed space. The laboratory was on the same floor as his living quarters. He had a massive recreation room complete with a pool table and big-screen television, because what man would go without those if he could afford it? At least his teammates had insisted he needed the TV so when they came over they could watch it. He wasn’t much of a television watcher.
He also had a home theater for movies – at the urging of the team. He wasn’t much for movies either. The team members had a lot of input for the space in the old factory, including a bowling alley. He’d vetoed that one, and there had been some sulking on Malichai’s part.
His laboratory was first class. Trap never stinted on his work environment. He had the best and the latest equipment and didn’t mind spending a fortune on it because his work made him a fortune several times over. Wyatt’s lab had been made as good as they could get it, but this gave Trap so much more room for the various machines he needed.
Light spilled through the windows he’d installed, long rows that brightened every room, especially the lab. His bank of computers was in the far corner, away from the various bottles and tubes he needed to conduct his experiments when he was on to something vital.
He had a desk and multiple shelves for his reference books. Hundreds of drawers were clearly labeled with everything he might need for work. He had the money for anything he wanted or needed, and he had a great assistant who personally brought him everything he asked for, anytime, day or night.
His office was large, a polished and wide mahogany desk gleamed, with his personal computer and two laptops waiting. The chair was one he’d chosen personally after sitting in dozens. He’d had a second office built, the desk smaller, but made of beautiful wood. The room was cozier, the shelves filled with every kind of reference book imaginable. He’d included works of fiction, every genre, so if his woman decided to go on a fiction reading spree she had choices.
His kitchen was awesome. He didn’t cook much, but he set it up with the best appliances and cookware possible, mainly because he considered he would be living there for years. The kitchen was huge, and it actually was two kitchens: the appliances mirrored one another from opposite walls with a long aisle down the middle. Double rows of pots and pans hung overhead. He wanted to make certain his home could accommodate the entire team and their families if it should be needed.
He added a shelf for cookbooks, because he liked to learn new things and he would be cooking for Cayenne as well. He wanted good, nutritious food for both of them.
In his blueprints, he’d included many bedrooms, telling himself they’d need them if the GhostWalkers and their families had to retreat to a fortress, but that didn’t explain the nursery set up right next to the master bedroom, or the reasoning for positioning several bedrooms close, but not so close that his hopefully
great
sex life would ever have the slightest interference.
This would be his home base. He’d changed every entrance leading to the tunnels and to the house itself so Whitney wouldn’t have the new specs. That would make it more difficult for his private army to penetrate. The windows not only were bulletproof, he had installed armor-plated screens that came down with the touch of a button. Every door in the house both inside and out was plated as well.
He had stashed weapons throughout the building, in every room and in the tunnels. He had an arsenal, enough for a small army – which his team was – should they need it. He’d had the roof redone in several places, giving them shadows to work with, small places that concealed and protected their bodies should they have to fall back on his home as a fortress. What he didn’t think of, the other members of his team had.
There was a helipad outside with a state-of-the-art helicopter, several armored vehicles and a private plane waiting at the small private airstrip he’d purchased. The hangar there housed a small jet as well as the plane.
Security cameras had been installed everywhere throughout the house. He had access to the security screens from his own computers as well as every other device he owned – and he owned a lot of them. He’d done a sweep of the house before he’d moved his things in. The furniture was untouched, but Cayenne had been in the kitchen. She’d been hungry enough to eat the food Nonny had fixed for her.
He’d sent Wyatt over with more groceries when he was working longer than he’d expected. Instead of a couple of days, it had taken four long days and three nights working on an antibody that hopefully would neutralize any toxin she might inject in him. To his shock, he’d worried about Cayenne every moment of that time. That was unheard of. As a rule, he focused so completely on what he was doing, nothing else entered his mind. He knew the pull between them was strong, but strong enough to disturb him while he worked? That was… unsettling. Disturbing. Ominous, when he thought about the days and nights ahead.
She’d eaten some of the groceries he’d sent, mainly the fruit and vegetables. That made him inexplicably happy. It was the first thing she’d taken from him without protest, and he thought it was a good sign that she wouldn’t try to kill him for being so late the moment she laid eyes on him.
She was staying in the lower level – the apartment he’d designed. He knew she was because the spiderwebs crept up the stairs and the cameras showed large veils of white silk covering the various rooms. He took it as a good sign that she had made herself at home there, especially after he’d confessed he’d had the apartment built just for her.
The space took up the entire lower story. He could fit two houses in her apartment. Clearly she wasn’t used to the space, because she occupied only one room and the adjoining bathroom. She obviously slept behind that heavy veil of silk, and more webbing was strung across the room from wall to wall, but it wasn’t dense and allowed her to sit on the cozy furniture.
The bathrooms – and there was a dozen of them – were mostly stark, ready to be decorated, but Nonny had begun to do just that in four of them. His master bedroom had a bath connected to it and there were three in the apartment on the lower story. Nonny had completed one downstairs – the one closest to the bedroom. He hoped Cayenne liked it. The only thing the cameras could see was the draped silk, beautiful masterpieces of silk, hanging everywhere.
From the moment he bought the place, he had suspected she was staying in the building, so he’d asked Wyatt’s grandmother to make it especially nice. He’d inspected it and the bathroom had smelled really good and the walls were painted a soothing blue. The claw-foot tub he’d brought in was wide and long and he made certain several hot water heaters had been installed, so there was hot water on demand throughout the entire building. The shower was spacious, and the towels were particularly soft.
He moved with fluid grace to the gate. It was locked. He kept it that way. He could easily go up and over the fence, and he preferred that to bothering with unlocking the lock. He crouched, prepared to leap over it, when he noticed the almost invisible skeins of silk. She wanted to be warned when he moved onto the property.
Yeah, baby, I’m moving in,
he whispered softly, intimately, into her mind. He knew the path to her. It was so ingrained in him, almost as if she were already a part of him, that it was easy connecting with her.
I’m home.
There was silence. That made him smile. She was upset with him for taking so long. A good thing. He took the fence. It was high, but he had no trouble jumping it and landing softly on the other side. He deliberately broke a few of the fine silken threads, letting her know he wasn’t going to be careful about it.
This is my home, Cayenne,
he said firmly.
Everything in it belongs to me. Including you. I told you that the other night.
Her breath hissed out. She moved in his mind, a stirring, and for the first time, she felt a little like a spider instead of the sensuous woman he knew her to be.
This is my home. You should have come when you said you would. Now I’ve claimed it.
She
was
upset with him. He had taken too long. She’d given herself to him, cried in his arms, and he’d taken too long to get back to her. He had to do damage control, and he had the feeling he was starting all over again.
That’s right, baby. And I’m in it, so that means I belong to you. That’s the way it works, so get used to the idea.
He unlocked his front door, using the keypad. Just inside the entryway was a second door and his palm was coded in.
Babe, you’re going to have to have your palm programmed in. I’ll have to do that now that I’ve activated this. You’ll be able to use it at all entrances, including the vents and tunnels you like to travel in.
There was a small silence.
Is he coming after us? Whitney? You said he was the mastermind of the laboratory in France. Do you think he’ll come here?
She sounded vulnerable again. She’d met Whitney and she despised him, sensing his madness, and his cruelty. That was before she’d witnessed it firsthand.
He felt a curious melting sensation in the region of his heart. He was a scientist and had never believed in those types of physical responses. He’d had his share of women, and never once did he have the type of emotional feelings that manifested as physical. Cayenne could make his heart stutter and his gut knot up. She could do a lot of things to his body without even trying, but he was beginning to realize it wasn’t just his body that was affected by her.
I think he might
–
eventually. But we’ll be ready for him. Wyatt’s place is nearly finished. When you feel up to it, I’d like you to help me figure out some of the holes in his security. You got in, that means someone else might, and we have the girls to protect.
Deliberately he acted as if he knew she would help them, that it was a fact, a given that she would be part of their team. He knew protecting the girls mattered to her, because already, once, she’d come out of the shadows and risked her life to help them.
What are you doing right now?
he asked, as he strode through his home to the master bedroom.
Sitting in the chair looking out the window. I like that I can see out but no one can see in even if I have the lights on. I didn’t know that was possible. The windows make me feel as if I can reach out and touch the plants. Have you noticed how beautiful the nights are here? I couldn’t see outside from my cell. Not here and not in France.
He felt a surge beneath the ice, the one that told him his volcano was still present, would always be present and hidden beneath the glacier inside him.
Fuckers,
he whispered softly.
You’re free now. And I’ve got tons of plants up here,
he enticed her. Because he wanted to see her. Even
needed
to see her. Even though he could acknowledge that to himself, it still bothered him, because to need any woman made him vulnerable.
It isn’t the same thing as being outside.
That was true, but he didn’t want her outside – especially at night. He wanted her there with him. Close. In his bedroom if at all possible. He made a mental note to add an abundance of plants throughout the building. With them came an automatic watering system so they wouldn’t die. He’d forget to water. He was like that. He forgot a lot of things when he was working.
What are you wearing?
He dropped his voice even lower. He had always been good with women because he had a voice that could seduce or compel as well.
Tell me, baby. I’ve been working night and day, but I thought of you. So many times. Wondering what you were up to. What you were wearing. Do you wear clothes to bed?
He could feel her moving in his mind. This time there was no hint of the spider, only the woman. The seductress – that beautiful woman who was just as drawn to him as he was to her. He smiled as he placed his duffel bag on the floor and made his way to the kitchen. He had a few more treasures in store for her.
No. I don’t like clothes when I’m sleeping. They twist around my body and wake me up.
His mouth went dry at her declaration. He didn’t like wearing clothes at night either, but just the thought of her naked… All that silken skin. So close. Out of reach.
Are you wearing clothes right now?
She’d better be, because if she wasn’t, there was no way he was going to get any sleep. He’d spent the last few days and nights working on building a vaccine. He wanted his own body to build antibodies against the neurotoxin. He’d worked nonstop, no food, no rest, making certain he was right. The research he’d been conducting on trying to find a vaccine for the venomous poisons in Wyatt’s little girls had actually given him a boost toward his goal, but it had taken much longer than he’d anticipated. He’d left her alone and clearly she felt abandoned.
I don’t wear clothes when I’m alone. Too cumbersome. In any case, I don’t have that many clothes and I don’t want to ruin them. There’s no need for clothes when I’m here in the house.
His heart nearly stopped. It definitely stuttered, another physical reaction he would have said was impossible. His mouth went dry. He’d just taken the cap off the milk carton and was raising it toward his face to take a drink. His hand seemed to lose its ability to grip and he nearly dropped the carton. The woman knew how to put images in a man’s head. It wasn’t just her voice that drew a man, it was the entire package.
For some reason that opened up a small crack in the glacier, just enough to allow a vein of bubbling magna to escape. Fear burst through him. He didn’t understand why, but it was brutal. He wasn’t a man who ever felt fear, because he had nothing at all to lose. Suddenly she was there. He couldn’t allow fear so he covered it, reaching for something else. Something dark and ugly. Something he hadn’t known was a part of him.