We came together, his roar echoing across the silence, his body slamming into mine so hard the whole table seemed to shake.
When I finally caught my breath again, I took his face between my palms and kissed him long and slow. "I think we both needed that."
His grin was that of a man who knows a job has been well done. "Yeah. Though I have to admit, it was a little too fast for my liking."
I grinned. "Fast can be good."
He raised a hand, and gently thumbed away a trickle of sweat from my cheek. "Fast was very good."
"So, you feeling up to answering a few questions now?"
"I think I could manage one or two." He parked his butt on the table beside mine. "What do you want to know?"
"What do you know about Mrs. Hunt?"
"She's a snobby old fart who does a marvelous job for her chosen charities." He studied me for a moment, then said, "Why?"
I hesitated. How much could I tell him? How much should I tell him? "Her name cropped up in an investigation," I hedged. "I've just been sent up here to check her out."
"By whom?"
Oh, crap. Still, if we were going to get involved, he'd have to know sooner or later who I worked for. "The Directorate."
"You're a guardian?" Disbelief edged his voice.
I laughed. "No, just a liaison. But we're short staffed at the mo, so I get to do the unimportant stuff, like follow leads that probably go nowhere."
"What was the lead?"
"That she was involved in some funds going missing." The lie slipped easily off my tongue, and part of me felt guilty about it.
Though the more worrying thing was the fact that only part of me felt guilty about it.
"How is missing money connected with a Directorate investigation? The mob you work for only go after killers, don't they?"
"Generally." I shrugged. "I do what I'm told. Makes life there a whole lot easier."
And if Jack heard me saying that, he'd laugh his head off. Doing what I was told had never been a priority of mine.
He frowned. "She's from an old money family, and takes pride in her charity work. I can't imagine her wanting to jeopardize either her family's standing or her own in the wider community by becoming involved in anything nefarious."
"So you haven't noticed anything odd about her behavior over the last few months?"
"No." He hesitated. "Although she did miss several charity events a few months back. The general said she was ¨¹i."
"You didn't believe him?"
"We're talking about a woman who dragged herself out of hospital after an appendix operation to attend one of her pet events."
"Did you talk to any of her friends about it?"
"'One. Not that I was concerned or anything." He shrugged. "Apparently, she refused to see anyone for at least three weeks. Her friends were quite concerned."
"Did they speculate why?"
"Plastic surgery gone wrong. The general beat her up. Her new nails dropped off and she was mortified with shame."
I raised my eyebrows and he grinned. "Okay, I made that last one up."