Ava Gray - Skin Tight

She took care of the cat first thing and then changed out of her dark suit. Nobody-not even Kyra-knew Mia loved flannel pajamas, the louder and brighter the better. No sexy lingerie for her-she would take flannel any day. Today’s jammies had big gaudy hearts and pink stars on a white background. She jammed her feet into white fuzzy slippers, pulled her hair up into a bouncy ponytail, and rummaged in the cupboard for dinner.

Earlier in the week, she’d gone grocery shopping, mostly cans of soup and bagged salad, but it was nice to come home and eat dinner instead of ordering takeout or dining alone in a restaurant with a book. At least she had a cat for company.

After she ate, she powered up her laptop and dug out the social security numbers of her four suspects. She doubted she’d find anything in their personal accounts, but she’d check just in case. That took all of five minutes.

Nothing. No unusual deposits or large withdrawals. She’d expected as much, but it was a bit disappointing. Mia did confirm that Melissa carried heavy credit card debt, though, rendering the woman’s addiction to designer labels an expensive but lawful pursuit. It wasn’t enough to cross Melissa off the list, but she moved the accounting manager down to the bottom. She’d ask her to lunch tomorrow to see if intuition kicked in.

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.”