Ava Gray - Skin Tight

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.”

“Me either. But I’m glad. It is an unexpected grace.” He put out a hand, and she took it, knowing it implied acceptance of whatever came next.

He pulled her toward him. Mia fell, laughing in delighted discomfiture. She wasn’t the sort of woman who lolled on a man’s lap in her jammies. His arms went around her, and he tucked his face into the curve of her neck. Then she realized he wasn’t as relaxed as he pretended. Fine tremors ran through him, as if he’d run a very long way.

Hesitantly, she put a hand to his hair, which fell through her fingers like damp silk. If it didn’t seem so ridiculous in a man so self-contained, she’d say he needed comfort, not sex. She dusted a kiss over his temples, and then her lips meandered down the sharp curve of his cheekbone.

A shudder worked through him. He put a hand to her cheek to stop her. “Don’t.”

“Don’t, what?”

In answer he pulled her fingers to his mouth and kissed them, as if in homage. There was a peculiar, brittle air about him, as if he might shatter at a touch. Her heart constricted at seeing his customary self-possession banished. Tonight, he seemed… lost.