CHAPTER 6
Sometimes Jack wished he didn't have superior hearing.
"He's not a lizard," Lara whispered.
"Then he's another kind of alien," the other woman muttered. "And this Jack is jacking with your mind to make you see him as human."
He shook his head as the two women continued to discuss him in urgent whispers. Obviously, Lara had told her roommate about him. Now there were two mortals who knew too much. He could erase the roommate's memory, but Lara would probably resent his jacking with her friend's mind. And she'd simply tell her friend everything again.
He retrieved a bottle of synthetic blood from the mini-fridge and popped it into the microwave. Whenever he was in New York, he resided at Roman's townhouse on the Upper East Side. The Russian-American Malcontents were headquartered in Brooklyn, not far away, but luckily, they were laying low at this time. And the security system at Roman's townhouse had been improved to make it safe.
Jack usually stayed in a guest room on the fourth floor so he could use Roman's office and mini-fridge on the fifth. The microwave dinged, announcing his breakfast was ready. He poured the blood into a wineglass, then sauntered to the desk with his cell phone by his ear.
"Hello, Jack?" Lara finally answered. "Sorry you had to wait. I was... in the shower."
She was a lousy liar, but he considered that a virtue. "I hope you put something on, bellissima. Otherwise, my imagination will run wild." As if it wasn't already.
"I-I'm dressed. I'm glad you called. I left some messages on your phone this afternoon."
"I just heard them a minute ago." He sat behind the desk and booted up the computer. "I work at night, so I'm... asleep during the day."
"Me, too, but I had trouble sleeping today. So I decided to cook you dinner, but when you didn't call back, we... uh, we ate it. Sorry."
"That's all right." Jack sipped from his wineglass. He figured the dinner invitation was part of a plan to confront him with all her questions. Unfortunately, he couldn't give her any answers. "I'm sorry I missed it."
"That's okay. Maybe you could drop by for dessert?"
Merda. He wasn't sure how to handle this. Maybe he could put her off for a few months. Then Ian would be back from his honeymoon, and Jack could return to Europe. Lara would never be able to track him down.
He grimaced. Avoiding her till he could run away seemed cowardly. And the thought of never seeing her again was downright depressing. "I-I have to go to work soon."
"But I really wanted to see you tonight." Lara's voice sounded strained. "I can meet you somewhere when you go on break."
She wasn't going to give up. Normally Jack admired a person who stuck to a project till it was done, but when the project was him, he was beginning to feel as desperate as Lara sounded.
He didn't want to tell her where he was staying or where he was currently working. "I'll drop by your place for a few minutes." He typed in her address on MapQuest.
"Thank you! Do you need directions? Or does 'dropping by' mean you're going to magically appear in front of me?"
Jack winced. How could he deny his ability to teleport when she'd seen it? He studied the map to her apartment. "I'll drive. I should be there in thirty to forty minutes."
"You know where I live?"
"Yes." He would ask Phineas and Connor to cover for him at Romatech for an hour or so. He heard Lara whispering again to her roommate.
"I doubt he's driving a space shuttle," Lara muttered.
Nine circles of hell. Lara was going to be really angry when she realized he couldn't tell her anything.
"So, uh, I guess you have an Italian car?" Lara asked.
"Not here in America. I'll borrow a car from a friend." Roman always kept one at the townhouse.
"What kind of car?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Oh, no reason. But if it's really big, you might have trouble parking."
He couldn't resist. "Bellissima, it is big, but I've never had trouble parking it." He smiled as a period of silence stretched between them.
"O-kay," she finally said. "I'll see you soon." She rang off.
Jack finished his breakfast while he pondered her request for a description of his car. She was up to something. If she were a Malcontent, he'd suspect her of wanting to set a car bomb, but he didn't think Lara wanted to kill him.
Of course that could change if she learned the truth about him. He knew from experience that women didn't react well to the truth. He'd have to be a fool to repeat the same mistake and expect a different outcome.
"Hey, someone's parking down the street," LaToya reported on her cell phone. "Oh, I forgot. This is a stakeout." She switched to a low, urgent voice. "Possible sighting of male subject, driving a red Toyota."
"A Toyota? That doesn't sound very Jack-ish," Lara said. Thirty minutes had passed, and she was waiting anxiously in the apartment on the third floor, while LaToya was stationed on the street below. Their plan was for LaToya to spot Jack arriving so she could write down his license plate number. Then, while Lara interrogated Jack in the apartment, LaToya could run his plates.
Lara watched from the living-room window as LaToya wandered slowly down the street, pretending to window-shop. It was dark outside, but the street-lamps cast yellow pools of light that reflected eerily off the wet cement.
"Subject has exited his car," LaToya whispered into her phone. "Dark hair. Average height. Average looks."
"Jack has black hair," Lara said. "But I'd say he's taller than average. And way better-looking than the-"
"Average alien?" LaToya muttered. "Subject has entered the deli. Don't think he's our man. And it's starting to drizzle again, dammit."
"You want to come in?"
"Negative. I'm on a mission. Possible alien incursion." LaToya pulled the hood of her LSU sweatshirt over her head. "Hey, I wonder what aliens eat. I hope your Jack isn't here to harvest us for food."
"Jack is not an alien." But Lara wasn't sure what he was. She glanced around the apartment to make sure it was presentable. The dishes had been rinsed and stashed in the dishwasher. The kitchen opened onto the living room, which was so small, it was easy to keep clean. Her bedroom was a little messy, but she didn't intend to invite Jack there, even though LaToya insisted she should strip him to check for multiple belly buttons or hidden scales and gills.
Lara's heart speeded up at the mere thought of seeing him again. How would he explain things to her? And how would she react? What if he actually confessed to being an alien? She snorted. LaToya's silliness was getting to her. There had to be a reasonable explanation for Jack's bizarre abilities. Please let it be reasonable.
She wanted him to be human. And available. And interested in her. Oh what the hell, she wanted him to worship the ground she walked on.
"Dammit, would you look at that?" LaToya growled.
"What?" Lara strained to see out the window. "Have you spotted him?"
"No. I'm looking in the window at Mrs. Yee's bakery. She swears everything is fresh every day, but this cream puff with the chocolate icing has the same little black spot on it that the one yesterday had. I'm telling you it's the same one."
"LaToya, you've been lusting after those cream puffs for a week. Just buy one and eat the damned thing."
"Are you kidding? You know how many calories that is?"
Lights flashed across the dark, wet pavement as a new car turned onto the street.
From Lara's vantage point, she couldn't spot the car yet. "Can you see it?"
"Affirmative. Black four-door sedan. Windshield wipers on. Driving slow, like he's looking for a place to park."
Lara tensed as it drove by. "I think it's a Lexus. Could be Jack."
"Windows were tinted," LaToya continued. "I couldn't see the driver. Wait. He's parking at the corner by the magazine stand. I'll head that way."
Lara watched as LaToya strolled past the shops.
"Oh my God," LaToya whispered.
"What? Are you all right?" Lara asked. Her friend had stopped in her tracks.
"Oh my God." LaToya turned to look into a shop window that was, unfortunately, empty. "He's across the street at the end of the block. And he is so hot!"
"It must be Jack." Lara's heart pounded faster. Good God, this was ridiculous. She was acting like a teenager with a crush on the best-looking boy in school. She needed to get a grip. There'd been plenty of good-looking boys who had wanted to date her after she'd won Miss Teen Louisiana. It hadn't taken her long to realize that they'd merely wanted to boost their own ego and reputation. Any beauty queen sufficed. She'd been an object, not a person, and after the car accident, they'd all quickly disappeared.
"Status report: totally hot subject is halfway to our apartment," LaToya whispered. "Too hot to be a coldblooded lizard. I repeat, subject is not a lizard."
Lara pressed against the window, trying to catch a glimpse of him.
"Oh no!" LaToya hissed. "He just looked at me."
Lara gasped when a tall, dark-haired man jogged across the street, headed straight for LaToya. Jack.
"I told you, Bob," LaToya yelled into the phone. "It's over between us. Pack up your crap and move out!"
Lara held her breath to see if her friend's playacting would fool Jack.
"Miss." His voice could be heard over LaToya's phone. "You are Lara Boucher's roommate, no?"
"I-who?" LaToya huffed. "I don't know who you're talking about."
"I recognize your voice," Jack said.
He'd managed to hear LaToya's hushed voice from across the street? Lara wondered if super hearing was another one of Jack's unearthly abilities.
"I'm sure I haven't met you before," LaToya insisted. "And I'm busy talking to my ex, if you don't mind."
"Tell Lara I'll be there soon."
"Humph." LaToya strode away. "No, Bob, you're not taking the Courvoisier. It's mine!"
Lara spotted Jack crossing the street again, then disappearing into her building.
"Did you hear that?" LaToya whispered. "He knows who I am!"
"I don't know how he heard you whispering," Lara said. "He must have excellent hearing."
"Supersonic hearing. I bet you he's a Bionic man. You should get his clothes off so you can see which parts are real. He might be a man of steel." LaToya snickered.
"Very funny." Though a Bionic man would definitely have good stamina. A knock sounded on the door, and Lara jumped. "He's here! How did he get up three flights of stairs so fast?"
"He's freaking Superman, that's what. You be careful, girl, or he'll pull some super mojo on you. Okay, I'm next to his car now, so I'll get his plates. Call me if you need me." LaToya hung up.
Lara snapped her phone shut and set it on the coffee table on the way to the door. Super mojo? She had to admit, there was something very sexy about Jack. Maybe it was his incredible powers. Or incredible good looks. Or the mystery surrounding him. Or the whole package.
She opened the door, and her heart lurched in her chest. Oh yeah, the whole package was good. She'd always loved to unwrap pretty packages.
"Buonasera, Butch." His smile revealed white teeth and friendly laugh lines. He brushed a tendril of damp hair off his smooth brow.
She liked the way his smile reached his twinkling golden brown eyes. And the way the light rain had glued his black T-shirt to his broad chest and firm stomach. He was dressed more casually than usual, with worn faded jeans that hugged his hips and legs. His black boots looked worn but comfortable. He was a man who appeared comfortable with himself. Genuine and sincere. Gorgeous without pretense or vanity. She only hoped he could be honest with her.
His smile widened. "May I come in?"
"Oh. Yes. Of course." Lara stepped back. How long had she stood there gawking at him? She motioned to the living room. "Please have a seat. Can I get you something to drink? I made a Mississippi mud pie for dessert. Would you like a piece?"
He turned to her with a confused look. "You eat... mud?"
"It's chocolate. Nice and gooey." Lara grinned. "You've never had any before? You're in for a real treat."
"I-no, thank you."
Her smile faded. So she couldn't impress him with her cooking. "Something to drink then? We have a nice Chardonnay." If she couldn't sweeten him up for the interrogation, maybe some wine would loosen his lips.
"No, thank you." He touched his stomach, frowning. "I've been a little under the weather."
"Oh, sorry. You should drink lots of fluids."
His mouth twisted with a wry look. "I do. But please, go ahead and drink if you like."
"Okay." Another glass of wine might bolster her courage. She headed into the kitchen. "I wanted to thank you for helping me last night."
"You're welcome." Jack pivoted in the middle of her living room as he looked around. "How is your partner?"
"Harvey's going to be all right, but he'll be out of commission for a few months." Lara set her wineglass on the coffee table, then settled on the love seat. Her heart did a little flip when Jack sat beside her.
His gaze wandered over her, lingering here and there with apparent appreciation. "And how are you, Lara?"
"I-I'm fine." It was hard to talk with him so close. Hard to think when he spoke her name like it was an endearment. "The captain gave me some time off. And I guess I'm going to get some sort of commendation. It's really embarrassing that everyone thinks I'm a hero."
Jack extended an arm across the back of the loveseat. "Cara mia, you are heroic."
Cara mia? Lara had grown up hearing ma cher in Louisiana, but the Italian version sounded new and exotic. Even so, she shouldn't let it go to her head. Jack could use those words all the time without meaning them. "I'm not a hero. You're the one who saved the day. Then you programmed the Trents to make me sound like RoboCop."
"It was the best way to explain what happened. The important thing is that you're safe and unharmed."
"Yes, I am. Thank you. I don't mean to sound ungrateful. I-I'm just uncomfortable with taking credit for something you did." She was also uncomfortably aware of his hand resting just inches from the back of her neck. She felt a very slight tug. Was he touching her hair?
He smiled. "You're an honest person. I like that."
"What about you? Can you be honest with me?"
His smile faded. "I would like to be, but I-I'm in a bit of a bind, actually."
Her heart sank. "I don't get it. Why can't you just tell me the truth?"
"I'm truly sorry. I'm under orders from my boss not to talk about certain sensitive matters."
"Your boss? He would be with MacKay Security and Investigation?"
"Yes."
"I looked that up on the Internet. It didn't say much, just that the company was started in 1927 and was based in London and Edinburgh."
Jack nodded. "That is true."
Since he was responding, her questions were apparently dodging the certain sensitive matters. She decided to keep digging. "What does this MacKay company do?"
"We provide security services for clients around the world, and we specialize in investigation."
"That's what you do? Investigation?"
"Usually, yes."
"Are you investigating something here in New York?"
"No."
"Providing security?"
"Yes."
Lara sipped some wine. This was like pulling teeth. If only she could get him to loosen up a bit. "Are you sure you wouldn't like some wine? Or something stronger?"
His mouth curled up on one side, and his eyes gleamed with amusement.
Damn. He knew what she was up to. She needed a different strategy, but she couldn't bring herself to blurt out a question about him being an alien or a Bionic man. It just seemed too ridiculous.
But. she could always try LaToya's suggestion of examining his body. "You poor thing. Your shirt's all wet. Why don't you take it off, and I'll toss it in the dryer."
He glanced down at his damp T-shirt. "It's not that bad."
"It's sopping wet. You'll catch your death of cold."
His mouth twitched. "I doubt that."
"I insist." Lara leaned forward to grasp his T-shirt and yank the hem free from his jeans. What was she expecting to find? Gills across his rib cage?
"Are you trying to ravish me, bellissima?"
Her cheeks flamed with heat. "Of course not. I just don't want you to get sick from wearing a wet shirt."
"How thoughtful of you." His eyes glimmered. "I believe my jeans are a bit damp, too?"
Her face burned hotter. "They seem all right to me."
"Let me know if you change your mind." He stood and finished tugging the black T-shirt free from the jeans slung deliciously low on his narrow hips. A trail of dark hair emerged from his jeans, striking for its deep contrast to his pale skin.
Lara dragged in a deep breath, forcibly avoiding any mental pictures about where that trail of hair led to. Man of steel? No, she wasn't going to think about it. But the paleness of his skin did surprise her. How long had he been working the night shift?
He rolled the T-shirt up further, revealing a swirl of dark hair around his belly button. One belly button. Very touchable-looking skin. Nothing at all alien.
Her mouth went dry as the T-shirt rose higher. Surely an alien couldn't fake those stomach muscles, chest hair, and strong pecs. What scientist would stick chest hair on a Bionic man? She could always touch it to see if it was real. Give a few of those dark curls a tug to see if they were glued on. Just for the sake of her investigation, of course. Her hands curled into fists, resisting the temptation.
He was moving so slowly. Damn him. Was he purposely trying to emphasize how sexy he was? He lifted his arms, and muscles rippled and bulged across his chest and shoulders as he yanked the T-shirt over his head. Lara bit her lip to keep from moaning. Or drooling.
He dropped the shirt on the coffee table. "Your turn."
"Hmm?" She dragged her gaze up to his face. The gold flecks in his eyes were gleaming. "I-I didn't get wet."
His nostrils flared and his chest expanded as he took a deep breath. His voice was soft and deep. "Are you sure, cara mia?"
Lara pressed her thighs together. Oh God, what if he also possessed a super sense of smell?
He sat beside her on the love seat. "I should warn you, love. Even if you take me to your bed, I will not be able to tell you what you want to hear."
She gazed dumbly into his warm brown eyes for a moment before his words clicked, then she gasped. "I wasn't intending to bed you for information. How dare you!" She snatched his damp T-shirt from the coffee table and marched into the kitchen.
He stood and slid his hands into his jean pockets. "I misinterpreted the situation." He ducked his head and studied his black leather boots. "I have insulted your honor. I apologize."
He actually looked embarrassed. A small fissure zigzagged across Lara's defenses and tugged at her heart. In spite of Jack's suave and sexy demeanor, she suspected there was a sweet and vulnerable man underneath.
She tossed his shirt into the small dryer unit that was stacked on top of the washing machine. "I only wanted to talk to you. I want to know how you can move so quickly. And how you can appear and disappear. And how you can control people's minds."
He followed her into the kitchen. "I am truly sorry, but I cannot explain."
So she was at a dead end. She punched the button on the dryer control panel, and a whirring sound filled the strained silence. How on earth could she let this go? "My roommate thinks you're an alien."
He gave her a wry look. "Do I look like an alien?"
"You could be hiding a different body underneath. Or given your ability to mess with people's minds, you could be manipulating everyone into seeing you as human."
He leaned back against the kitchen counter and folded his arms across his broad chest. "You see me as I am. I'm not able to influence your thoughts."
"I only have your word for that."
His brow furrowed. "I'm not lying about it. Believe me, if I could erase your memory, I would have already done so. And we wouldn't be having this awkward conversation."
Awkward was right. "Can-can I touch you? I mean, just to see if you feel normal."
He uncrossed his arms and held them straight at his sides. "Be my guest."
She took a deep breath, then approached him and placed a hand over his chest where his heart should be. His chest hair was like a soft, silky cushion. Individual strands curled around her fingers as if welcoming her touch. "I can feel your heart. It's beating a little fast."
"You're touching me."
She had an effect on him? She liked that. She gave him a playful smile. "So you're not... hiding a second heart somewhere?"
The corner of his mouth quirked. "Hide and seek? Where would I hide it?"
Her throat constricted. Was he implying he was an alien? "I don't know. Where?" She slid her hand down his rib cage and pressed against his firm stomach. "I don't feel anything beating."
"A little lower."
"Here?" She reached the waistband of his jeans.
"A little lower."
She noticed the bulge beneath his zipper and snatched her hand away. "You Neanderthal."
He laughed. "You can't blame me for trying."
"Well, if that's your idea of a heart, I'll just have to be a heartbreaker." She lifted her hands and mimicked the act of snapping a twig in two.
He grimaced, although there was still laughter in his eyes. "Please. My heart is very sensitive."
She lifted her brows with an innocent look. "You're softhearted? How sweet."
"I haven't been soft since I met you," he growled.
She ignored the heat in her face. "Stick out your tongue."
"My tongue?"
"Yes. To make sure it's not forked like a snake."
He gave her a challenging look. "I'll show you mine, if you show me yours."
"My humanity isn't under question. How do you control people's minds? Are you psychic?"
"I suppose you could call me that."
She was finally getting somewhere. "How do you move super fast?"
"It's a gift." He arched a brow. "I can also move super slow. Shall I show you?"
She bit her lip to keep from saying yes. Good God, the man was far too tempting. Or was he doing something to her? "Are you sure you've never influenced my thoughts?"
"I haven't. I tried, but I can't control you at all."
"Ain't life a bitch?"
He grinned. "I'm starting to like it. I never know what you'll do or say. It's exciting. And I like knowing that your reaction to me is honest." He tilted his head, studying her. "I think you're truly attracted to me."
She snorted. "What an ego." She let her gaze drift south. "You must be thinking with your heart."
"Oh yeah, I've been thinking real hard." He chuckled when she rolled her eyes. "Even though I can't answer all your questions, I am truly honored by your interest in me."
"Professional interest."
"Of course. For my part, I find you equally intriguing."
She blinked. No, he couldn't mean that. "There's nothing unusual about me."
"I disagree. You could be living a pampered life in Louisiana. You're certainly beautiful enough to win more pageants."
She winced. "You investigated me?"
"That's what I do." His eyes gleamed. "I'm amazed by your bravery and determination. You've given up an easy life to become a police officer."
"I wanted my life to mean something."
"Cara mia, you will always mean something."
The crack in her defenses widened. She glanced at his face. He was watching her intently, as if his gaze alone could touch her. She looked away, overwhelmed suddenly by a strange yearning. How could she want him to touch her when she knew so little about him?
"How do you do it?" he whispered.
"Do what?" Get totally flustered?
"Over the years, I have known women who were innocent and women who were not, but I have never met one who was both. Until you." He stepped toward her. "So pure and provocative at the same time."
She opened her mouth to disagree, but looked at his eyes and forgot to speak. There was so much desire in his gaze, so much hunger, it made her knees weak.
He took another step closer. "I wonder which side will win? The innocent or the seductress?"
"I-" Lara pressed against the dryer, and it vibrated against her back, making her skin tingle and beg to be touched.
He grazed his fingers along her cheek, and she shivered. His eyes were hooded as he focused on her mouth.
He's going to kiss me. Should she let him? Oh God, he was right. There were two voices at war inside her mind. The prim and proper one warned her not to get involved with such a mysterious man, but an inner primeval woman urged her to dive into the unknown and surround herself with his mysterious allure, his charm, his manliness. Go for it.
His forefinger skimmed over her bottom lip, and a deep longing flooded her senses. It consumed her body, making her greedy for his touch, his kiss. Go for it. She sucked his finger into her mouth.
He groaned. "Lara." He removed his finger and cradled her face in his hands. "Cara mia."
"Yes." God help her, she wanted to be dear to him.
He leaned forward and brushed his mouth against hers.