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  “Doc, are you here?”

  Instantly, Holly recognized Tami Hendrix’s sweet voice. A smile touched Holly’s lips at the sound of the nickname given to her by several of the students.

  “In here,” Holly called, knowing of course Tami was there to feed the animals. She had recently decided to become a veterinarian and liked to help Holly with her mini zoo in the back of her lab.

  Tami stepped into the doorway, next to Roger, her curly black hair piled on top of her head with a clip. “I was going to feed the animals but the door was locked.”

  Roger didn’t look at her, his eyes remaining fixed on Holly. “I’ll unlock it.” But didn’t move for a long moment.

  When he turned, saying nothing, and walked away, Tami frowned. “What’s his deal?”

  “If you figure it out, please let me know,” Holly replied with frustration.

  Tami’s brow inched upward but she didn’t comment, choosing to follow in Roger’s footsteps.

  Holly threw the towel on the counter and marched toward her desk. Picking up her work and carefully organizing it in her briefcase, she decided to head to her first class early. The more she thought about what Roger had almost said, the more bothered she became.

  She wasn’t sure she was ready to deal with him again just yet.

  * * * * *

  Holly carried her lunch with her as she stepped outside the lab. Moving briskly toward the back of the building, she savored the feel of the soft breeze as it lifted her hair off her neck. Somehow, being outside made her feel less trapped and better able to think.

  As much as she hated to admit it, she was also avoiding Roger. It wasn’t like her to sidestep issues. She was usually direct. Right now, though, she simply felt overwhelmed and confused. Roger was a friend and she feared handling things in the wrong manner would destroy their relationship.

  Choosing a bench amply covered by a large shade tree and enough off the beaten path to give her privacy, she sat down with a sigh. Her eyes drifted shut, feeling heavy from strain and stress.

  And then she felt it. She wasn’t alone.

  Mason.

  How she knew he was there with her eyes shut, she didn’t know. But she did. Without question. Lashes lifting, she found him sitting beside her.

  Just as she knew he would be.

  She blinked. How had she known it was him? “Okay, this is too weird. I knew you were there before I opened my eyes.”

  “People sense others,” he responded, his expression unreadable.

  She shook her head adamantly, reeling with the oddity of her feelings. “No. I knew it was you.”

  “I would know your presence as well. It’s simply how we respond to one another.” He drifted into silence, studying her as if he was trying to understand what was between them. “When I’m with you, I forget reason.”

  She didn’t understand what he meant. “I’m not sure what you mean but it doesn’t sound like a compliment.”

  “It’s simply a fact.” He reached out and traced her jaw line with his index finger. She felt the instant sizzle so familiar from his touch. “You’re very beautiful.”

  A shiver of awareness raced down her spine. She didn’t want to react to him. It was mortifying the way he had left her the night before. “Don’t,” she said as her lashes fluttered to her cheeks.

  Yet she couldn’t push his hand away.

  Without warning, he was suddenly closer, his warmth and masculinity sneaking under her protective shell. His lips brushed hers, featherlight, but oh-so-sensual.

  Her lips quivered against his. There was no way to fight what she felt. He could have his way with her here, now, in the school courtyard, and she didn’t think she could stop him.

  Moments later, he gave her a heavy-lidded stare. She forced a breath, trying to calm her herself, to smash the heat building.

  It didn’t work.

  But she needed answers. To understand why he acted as if their attraction was a crime. “Why did you leave last night?” She had to know. Clearly he wanted her as much as she did him.

  Abruptly, he pulled away from her, his black eyes seeming to flash with something intense and almost dangerous. She wasn’t afraid of him.

  But she was angry. And even that confused her. She was mad at him, but still wanted him. And she trusted him when perhaps she should fear him.

  In fact, deep inside, she trusted him more than she had ever trusted anyone. There was no doubt in her mind—he could be dangerous if crossed. Just not to her. It should have bothered her—the fact she knew that he could kill if need be—but it didn’t.

  He ran out on you last night, she reminded herself. Falling back into his arms was foolish. She didn’t like being foolish.

  Mason sighed, weariness to the sound. “We need to talk. There are things you should know.”

  Her brows dipped together. “You know what?” she asked, but didn’t want or expect an answer. “I don’t want to talk to you, Mason.”

  “We have to talk,” he said quietly.

  She laughed without humor. “I don’t have to do anything.”

  “Tonight,” he said. “We’ll talk. I’ll come to your place.”

  “No,” she said brusquely, “you won’t.”

  He looked at her, his eyes somehow making her feel as if she couldn’t look away. “This is bigger than you and me, Holly. I’ll explain tonight.”

  Without warning, he stood up. He walked away with brisk strides. She stared after him, stunned at his abrupt departure. Just as she had been the night before.

  * * * * *

  Roger sat at his desk, staring down at his lunch. Holly was avoiding him. He knew it with certainty. She always ate her lunch in the lab.

  But not today.

  He knew she had guessed what he had almost confessed. Loving her for so long, without acting on it, had been difficult. Seeing her with that Mason person had been one of the hardest things he’d ever had to deal with.

  He picked up his soda can, intent on taking a drink, when the sound of someone delicately clearing their throat made him sit it back down. Rolling his chair around, he found himself face-to-face with a stunning redhead. Her eyes caught his attention. They were the oddest, most beautiful black he’d ever seen.

  She was a welcome distraction from his pitiful mood. “Can I help you?”

  Covertly, his gaze slid down her short, powder blue skirt and lingered on her long, sexy legs. He’d always been a leg man, and she did a fine job of feeding his hot spot.

  “Hi,” she said with a charming smile. “I’m with the Ferguson Scientific Group, hoping to speak to the person in charge of our research projects.” She opened her notebook and glanced at it. “A Holly—”

  “Heart,” he said, finishing her sentence. “She’s at lunch.” Ferguson was a name he knew instantly. They were the biggest source of funding for their genetics research. “I’m her right arm person. Can I help you with anything?”

  Her smile widened, which only seemed to make her eyes more alluring. Mysterious. “Perhaps,” she offered. “We’ve been approached by the government about some special projects. I need to know our capabilities to meet some specific needs.”

  Roger pushed to his feet. “I’m the person you need to speak to then.”

  The woman’s brow inched up. “Not Holly Heart?”

  Roger knew opportunity when he saw it. This was a chance to show Holly how well he would take care of her. Convincing Ferguson to forgo any government genetics projects would go a long way with her.

  “Holly, Dr. Heart that is, doesn’t want anything to do with certain government projects,” he explained. “Maybe we should step down to the hall to the break area where we can sit down and talk.”

  The woman gave him a quick nod of agreement. Inwardly he sighed in relief. “This way,” he said motioning toward the door. He started forward but stopped and turned to face her. “I just realized I never formally introduced myself.” He extended his hand. “I’m Roger Mayfield.”

&nbs
p; She smiled, angelic and inviting, and slipped her hand into his. “Gina Lawrence.”

  * * * * *

  Roger sat directly across from Gina at the small kitchen table . Glad the break area was deserted, he was ready for business. “What is it exactly you hope to achieve today?”

  “We—”

  “Meaning Ferguson Enterprises?”

  “Yes,” she agreed. “We are greatly interested in a Super Soldier program the government has asked us to participate in.”

  Roger stiffened. This was what he was afraid of. Super soldiers represented everything Holly hated. “Our research was designed to cure disease.”

  “Saving lives is saving lives,” she said pointedly. “If these super soldiers improve our military, then it saves lives.” She shoved a lock of red hair behind her ear and added, “Just in a different way.”

  “And Ferguson gets a huge return.” No doubt it was true. This was money-motivated, plain and simple.

  She nodded, seemingly at ease with her answer. “There is that, of course. We never said we didn’t want to make money.”

  Roger didn’t like her response. “You never said you wanted to turn this into a military operation.”

  “Mr. Mayfield,” she said, in a sharper tone than before, “can you or can you not make super soldiers?”

  His response was honest, though reluctant. “If it can be done, Holly can do it.” She seemed pleased with his answer, so he clarified. “You can forget enlisting her help. The government already came to her and she flat-out refused them. Getting your company involved is just another ploy to get her to agree. She won’t.”

  She gave him a hard stare. “We have a right to the research files.”

  “You won’t get them from me. That is something you will have to take up with Holly.”

  Gina’s eyes narrowed on him. “I want those files.”

  Roger pushed to his feet. “You won’t get them from me.” Then he added, “And I can assure you Holly won’t even think about handing them over.”

  She followed him to his feet. “We’ll see about that, Mr. Mayfield.”

  After a curt goodbye with Roger, Gina made her way out of the building. He might prove quite useful. Clearly, he was close to Holly Heart. A slow smile slipped onto her lips.

  Perhaps he could be used as bait.

  Chapter Five

  Holly maneuvered her car into her driveway, replaying Mason’s words in her head.

  This isn’t just about you and me.

  She killed the ignition, leaving herself blanketed in darkness as she glanced at the house. The incident from the prior night had her on edge. Utter stillness seemed to surround her, thick and uncomfortable. Dropping her head to the steering wheel, she took deep breaths, willing her nerves to calm.

  Instead, she found Mason’s words replaying yet again in her head. This isn’t just about you and me.

  For some reason the words made her feel a sense of dread. Her mind couldn’t reason with the crazy feelings she was having. It was as if her senses and emotions had ripened to a new state, one that defied logic.

  She had left Roger working at the lab. The strain between them was extreme and hadn’t done a thing to help her state of mind.

  With effort, she forced herself to move. She pushed opened the car door and stepped outside. Exposed to the night, she suddenly felt the isolation of her home. With it came the pain of loss. No longer would she feel safe here.

  Gone was the sanctuary she called home sweet home.

  Looking toward the porch, she cringed at the darkness it held. Mason had tried to replace the bulb the night before but he couldn’t get the circuit to work.

  She had forgotten to call a repair person. Right now, she regretted that little fact. And she really wanted inside, where it was safe.

  Resisting the urge to run, she walked briskly toward the front steps. The minute she hit the porch, her stomach lurched. She wasn’t alone. Fumbling with her keys, hand shaking, she reached for the doorknob.

  Movement from the corner of the porch made her gasp and she whirled around to see her attacker. It was Mason who stepped forward. “Oh, my God,” she said, hand on her chest, anger replacing fear. Why hadn’t she sensed him as she had earlier? Maybe her own fear had masked her instincts? It made no sense. Adrenaline pumping through her veins, she reacted to the rush with a tight retort. “You scared the hell out of me!”

  “I told you I would be here,” he said quietly.

  “And I told you not to come.” She turned back to the door, eager to unlock it. Task complete, she turned back toward him, only to find him no longer across the porch. He was almost directly in front of her. It shocked her. She’d never heard him move. “Where…where’s your truck anyway?”

  He ignored her question, closing the remaining distance between them, his legs almost touching hers. He reached past her shoulder to turn the doorknob. His arm brushed her shoulder, sending a rush of warmth across her skin.

  God, how she wanted this man. It made no sense. Never before had anyone done this to her.

  He pinned her in a potent stare, his expression guarded. “Let’s go inside,” he said in a deep voice that seemed to do a sensual dance along her nerve endings. “We need to talk, Holly.”

  Her reactions to him put her at a disadvantage. “I don’t want to talk to you.” Inwardly, she mocked herself. No, she wanted to do a whole lot more than talk. The thought made her response come out sharp. “Go away.”

  His gaze sharpened. “Is that what you really want?”

  Her lashes fluttered to her cheeks as she fought an internal battle. She wanted him but she didn’t want to. But the simple truth was—her resistance was slipping away.

  Without looking at him, she turned and pushed the door open. She stepped inside the door, reaching for the light. Before she found the switch, she felt Mason’s hands on her waist. The next thing she knew, his mouth was on hers.

  Shock quickly turned to desire. Within moments, she was lost in his taste. She felt his hands on her back, pulling her closer, molding her softness against his muscular body. Her arms slid up, around his neck.

  His scent insinuated into her nostrils, a soft male scent that made her want to get closer to him. Her body pressed against his, wanting more. This man was somehow, someway, uniquely connected to her. She felt it in his every touch, in his very existence.

  Each stroke of his tongue seduced her senses, made her ache with pure, hot desire. She tasted him like he was the very breath she breathed. And in some ways it felt it might actually be so.

  “Holly.” He spoke, against her lips, an intimate gesture that made her feel even more drawn to him.

  “Yes,” she said, and unable to resist, she pressed her lips in a soft caress.

  He moaned softly. “I’ve never been a man without willpower but—”

  “It’s overrated.” Her hands slid down his chest and tugged at his shirt. She wanted to feel his skin, no barriers.

  “Holly,” he said but he didn’t move, didn’t stop her.

  Slipping her hands under the material, her palms found the hard muscle of his abdomen. “Yes, willpower is most definitely way, way overrated.”

  “We need to talk,” he said hoarsely. His hands went to hers, as if he was trying to stop her exploration. “I’m trying damn hard to be honorable here, Holly.”

  “Don’t be,” she replied. “I want you. You want me. There is nothing more to discuss.”

  He stood there, as stiff as a statue, her hands now moving over his chest, her nail scraping his nipple. He sucked in a breath.

  She looked up at him. “I want you, Mason.”

  His dark eyes seemed to dilate and then, without warning, he moved, scooping her into his arms. He carried her toward the living room. “Just remember I tried,” he said and buried his face in her hair.

  She kissed his jaw, loving the feeling of being in his arms. Wanting it to last forever. “I’ll remem—”

  Moments later, they were on the co
uch, kissing passionately. She was draped across his lap sideways, her arms around his neck, her breast angled to press against his chest.

  His hand tunneled into her hair, his touch somehow possessive. But good. Oh, so very good. She wasn’t a woman to be taken but Mason, well, he made her want anything and everything.

  But then she was hardly being submissive. She kissed him with a hungry eagerness, demanding more with each stroke of her tongue. Each touch of her hand.

  Careful not to break the kiss, afraid he might change his mind, she slid around to straddle him. His hands went to her waist and then up her back. The material of her skirt slid up her thighs leaving little between them, yet more than she wanted. She could feel the hard proof of his desire. It only made her hotter. She wanted and wanted. She couldn’t seem to get enough of him.

  Lord help her, would she ever?

  * * * * *

  Holly looked at him, no inhibitions in her words or the hot way she looked at him. “I’ve never wanted anyone like this.”

  A contradiction to her angelic appearance, her aggressiveness was somehow all the more appealing. It was an incredible turn-on. She was an incredible turn-on.

  He slipped his hand behind her neck and pulled her mouth to his, their breath mingling, anticipation burning in his veins. “You’re driving me crazy,” he murmured as their lips touched and lingered together in a long moment of simply feeling one another.

  The moment changed to one of hunger as their tongues came together, a wild, hungry urge to take and take overcoming him. She was like fire in his veins. She took control of him, made him want her with such need he couldn’t think.

  He could only feel.

  His dick was pressing against his zipper, straining, wanting… Her legs formed a vee across it, tempting him, with only a sheer piece of lace and his pants separating them. It would be so easy to rip those panties off and take her.

  He could feel the sweet heat of her body pressing against his cock, calling to him. His hands went to her thighs, moving back and forth, wanting her skin beneath his hands.