Agent of Desire (Jessica Booker) (8 page)

“That’s correct. They’re not getting anywhere near that box,” Lincoln says.

“Is there another one somewhere else?”

“There are five other boxes identical to this one. All of them are where they’re supposed to be, and all of them are now being triple guarded. We still haven’t been able to determine what they can do with Geoffrey if they don’t have the boxes, but it does appear that he is their target. That means we can’t let them anywhere near him.”

“And you’re sure they can’t access these boxes remotely?” I’m grasping at straws.

“The unit is basically like a really fancy laptop—the most secure laptop in the world. It was constructed to hold the information on it, securely. It has no disk drives, no USB ports, no Ethernet ports. There is no modem and no wireless. There is no way for information to enter or exit the machine. The case itself is virtually indestructible so that the data inside cannot be taken out and read by another machine. The casing is airtight, and the second it senses air it’s set to fry itself.”

I sigh. “So, no?”

“No one is getting in there unless they have the box in front of them and the correct passcodes, fingerprints, and so on.”

“Any idea who they’re working for?” I ask. Mostly out of curiosity. Either way, I don’t trust anyone. Didn’t before this mission, and still don’t.

“We’re still working on it. It’s buried. He seems to be obtaining the information to sell to a third party, who plans to sell it to a buyer already lined up. We’re working on tracking that down, but it’s a lot of encrypted emails to comb through on a lot of different accounts.”

“So, what’s the plan?” I ask.

“We’re working on bringing Sims in, but he’s slippery. Hold tight,” he says. “Call me in twenty-four hours to check in.”

I pause. “Lincoln, they have kids. Your friends have kids. We shouldn’t be here.”

“Yeah, I know. I had to make the call. Their house was the safest place I could come up with on short notice. Sorry. I know you won’t let anything happen to them though, Jessica.”

He’s right. “Just fix this thing so we can go home.”

I hang up and head back to the house. I wish I knew more about what we were up against—how many of them there are, and what they want. I feel like the answers to these questions will give me at least something to go on. Because all I have right now is
run
. There is only so much running I’m willing to do before I have to turn around and fight back.

Geoffrey is still in the room when I get back, still asleep. I borrow a book from Ms. Frank,
Brave New World
. It’s a French translation; I’ve never read the French one before. I bring it up to the room and sit down in the chair to read.

“Lori?” It’s Geoffrey. I’ve woken him.

“Go back to sleep—you’ve only been out an hour or so.”

“It’s light out,” he argues. “I’ll stay up and listen for the bad guys. You say you can stay up for days, but you don’t
need
to. It’s better if you sleep now, so you can be awake at night. Don’t you think that’s when they’ll strike?”

I absolutely hate to have him playing lookout while I rest, but he’s right. I relent, crawling into the tiny bed.

He takes the chair I’ve vacated. “Good night,” he says in a way that is overly polite. I still feel that strange distance between us. It seems like he would rather crawl out the window than be in here with me.

“Why are you being like this?” I ask, surprising myself. I must be tired. I don’t usually worry too much about stuff like this.

“I’m sorry,” he says. I expected him to deny it, or ask me what I’m talking about, but he doesn’t. “I don’t know how to act around you.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I think I really like you. No, I
know
I like you. I’m very attracted to you. But you are so bold, and so independent. I… don’t know what to make of it when you come on to me.”

I push myself up in the bed, wrapping my arms around my knees. “There’s nothing to make of it. It’s just as it seems. I am attracted to you, but I’m not the type of girl who can be tied down.” It’s so true and I know it because I’m scared to even tell Geoffrey I
like
him. Forget the other L-word altogether. I couldn’t tell a guy that to save my life. “Even if I lived in one place and was in a position to settle down, I don’t know that I could. I’m just too self-sufficient. Too selfish.”

Geoffrey nods. “I was getting that.”

“I didn’t mean to hide it. I’m sorry, Geoffrey. You really are an amazing guy. I’m just not like that.”
It’s not you, it’s me
. I usually didn’t have to tell guys this because either I wasn’t around long enough, or they were happy to have a one-night stand and didn’t question it. But every once in a while, I was around long enough that I had to have the talk. It felt so awkward. So stupid.

Besides, Geoffrey really did deserve better. He needed someone like Mrs. Frank downstairs—someone who would be present and could help him raise a family. Someone he could come home to every night and make love to.
My body warms at that thought and I can’t help but think of having sex with Geoffrey again as my mind drifts off to sleep.

* * *

When I wake, it’s dark outside. The clock on the nightstand says it’s seven p.m. Geoffrey has let me sleep all day. He’s sitting in the corner, with his head bent over the copy of
Brave New World
I borrowed. In his big hands, the book looks so small.

“Have you been reading the whole time?” I ask.

He looks up, startled, and pushes his glasses up on his nose, making nerdy look damn hot. “No, I went down and played cowboys with Bea for a while, but she had nap time. I thought I’d re-read this since you already had it up here. But now that you’re awake, I think they’re going to eat soon if you’re hungry.”

That’s when I realize how long ago breakfast was, and how amazingly yummy the house smells. My stomach must have woken me.

We go downstairs and join the Franks in the dining room for dinner. I eat heartily, relishing the meal, but the silence at the table is awkward. Geoffrey sits across from me, and I catch him staring. We may have agreed upstairs that it wouldn’t work for us, but that doesn’t erase the desire in his eyes. Nor does it erase the excitement I feel when he looks at me that way.

The Franks must not feel comfortable talking to us since they were told not to ask questions. Their children, however, are another story.

“Why are you hiding?” Toby, their five-year-old asks, making Mr. Frank so surprised he chokes on his couscous.

I’m not sure how to answer the question. Actually, I am pretty sure I’m not allowed to answer the question.

Geoffrey must have seen the panic in my eyes because he turns to Toby and says, “We aren’t hiding from someone. We’re trained Ninjas—we don’t need to hide.” He smiles at Toby and winks.

“Then why are you staying here with us?” Toby asks.

“Well…” Geoffrey pauses a second then says, “We’re on a quest for lost treasure. We’ve been on the road a long time. Your parents were kind enough to let us stay here and rest up before we continue our search.”

Toby’s little five-year-old mouth drops open and couscous escapes. I have to stifle a snicker because I don’t think I’ve ever seen a kid so in awe.

The parents both
do
laugh and relax a little. We finally remember how to talk and spend the rest of the meal asking questions about the area and answering questions about what life is like as a Ninja treasure hunter. By the end of the meal, Toby announces he wants to be a Ninja when he grows up, and we are all at ease.

For now.

After dinner, we leave the family to their evening routine and retreat back into our tiny, awkward cave. This time Geoffrey has nothing left to argue about. It’s his turn to rest. I take up the seat at the end of the bed and he strips to his
T-shirt and boxers again. I try not to look, but he is the one amazing thing in this room. He blushes and climbs underneath the covers.

“Do you mind if I turn out the light?” he asks.

“No, it’s fine,” I say.

I would rather sit in the dark since it means that people outside can’t see in. I slide the chair around to face the tiny window and look out at the night. The stars are so bright out here that light comes through the window. The fields look calm, but I know better than to trust my first look. As soon as the Franks are asleep and the lights are out, I’ll be checking outside, doing sweeps of the perimeter.

I am a one-woman defense system.

“Lori?” Geoffrey’s voice comes from behind me. It’s sleepy, relaxed.

“Yeah,” I say.

“What are we really doing?”

There is silence as I ponder what and how much I can tell him. I decide the safest thing to do is turn it around on him. “What do you know?”

He thinks for a moment and then says, “I’m no Ninja treasure hunter, but I’m not so sure about you.”

I smile at the image. “Well,” I say, “I guess you could think of me as a Ninja. But I’m not hunting treasure. That would be the people coming after us. They’re the treasure hunters.”

“So, does that make me the treasure?” I can tell from his voice that he’s smiling.

“Yeah, I guess you are.” Speaking about his worth reminds me that we still don’t know what their end goal is with Geoffrey. It occurs to me that maybe Geoffrey will know. “Geoffrey?”

“Yes, Lori.”

“Can you think of any reason that someone would want to kidnap you?”

“You mean you don’t know why these people are after me? I assumed it was because of what’s in those boxes NATO hired me to make.”

“Yes, but they’re not going after the boxes anymore—they’re only targeting you. Do you know why that would be?”

Silence fills the room, and I wait patiently for him to answer.

“Who did you say you worked for again?” Geoffrey asks.

“I didn’t,” I say, hoping he will leave it.

“Is Lori even your real name?”

“I like the way you say it,” I say, not answering the question.

He chuckles. “Lori,” he says again. I savor it. Even though it’s not my real name, I know he’s calling out to me.

I want to go to him and curl up in his arms, but I don’t. We’ve already gone too far. We’re already too close. He doesn’t need one more reason to fall for a girl he can never have. And I need to stop flirting with a life I would never be satisfied with.

“Goodnight, Lori. Whoever you are.”

“Night, Geoffrey,” I say.

I go for a midnight walk around the cottage. The only way Sims could know where we are already is if he traced the call I made from the payphone several miles away. Even then, he’d have to be searching quite a large area and just fall upon the place. I’m ready for that possibility, but it hasn’t happened yet. The air is still. The only thing moving within a one-kilometer radius is me. And the most irritating bugs I’ve ever met. They are ridiculously small and swarm like gnats, but they sting. Hard. I’m pretty impervious to pain, but my tolerance for their annoyance factor is next to nothing.

I head back inside the cottage, and slip up into the room above the garage. Now that I’ve been wandering around in the dark for a while, my eyes are adjusted to the near pitch black. Geoffrey is still asleep and, to my sheer amusement, has apparently gotten hot and taken off his shirt. It is a little warm in the room.

He may be a computer geek, but he sure knows how to take care of his body. The moonlight illuminates the firm contours of his stomach muscles. I take a step forward, and the floorboard creaks underneath my foot. I hold my breath, because I’m standing over him, ogling him. I don’t need him to wake up just now.

He stirs, but just to shift. He makes a faint moaning noise, and rolls all the way onto his back. I stare at the tent created by his erection. I lick my lips, considering my options. I could wake him up in so many satisfying ways—give him a hand job, stroking him until he’s awake enough to play; strip and straddle him, playing with myself until he wakes up to join me; close my mouth around his delicious cock until he’s moaning out my name. I know how much guys like it when they wake up coming in a girl’s mouth. That’s a trick I only use on very special occasions. I consider using it here, but then my conscience weighs in. Sure, he would like it while it was a happening—he is a guy after all—but he wants a rela…

I don’t like to even
think
the R-word so I won’t. I move over to the chair and try to placate myself by looking out the window.

Outside, the sky is washing the countryside with starlight, but I don’t see it. I still see Geoffrey. His thick, muscular arms; his hard chest; his hard…

There is a warm throbbing between my legs that won’t go away. I swallow and slip my hand into my pants, gently massaging. I imagine what it would be like if Geoffrey woke me up for sex. He would definitely start by playing with my breasts. I can still see the hunger in his eyes the last time he fondled and teased me. My free hand goes under my shirt and I pinch my nipple and play with it. It’s nothing like what he would do, but I react all the same. My nipple hardens. He would suck on it with his mouth and bite at it with his teeth. First one, and then the other. I would wake up and he would already be hard—I can almost feel his erection brush against my leg. I push down on my clit and stifle a moan as awareness that he’s sleeping just a few feet away strikes me.