A Sexy Time Of It

DEIRDRE CAUGHT HERSELF tapping her fingers on her desk and fisted her hands. She also tamped down the urge she had to run into her private washroom and check her appearance. Lance Shaw, the CEO of Trans Global Security, had just called to inform her that he was on his way to her office. It had to be something very important for Shaw to leave his office in Paris and visit her personally in San Diego.

What had triggered this surprise visit?

She wanted badly to get up and pace. But she didn’t want him to sense the anxiety knotting in her stomach and dancing along her nerve endings. She knew that the cause rested partially in the intense reaction she had to this man whenever they met.

She’d only had contact with him a few times, but Lance Shaw definitely rattled her. It wasn’t just his good looks, though he had an abundance of those. He was tall, broad shouldered with the rangy build of a field agent rather than an executive. He would have looked more at home wearing a Stetson and riding the range in twentieth-century Texas than he did in the corporate offices of TGS. His hair was a rich mahogany brown, his eyes were bottle-green, intelligent and they saw everything. Before Shaw had taken over the top spot at TGS, he’d made a fortune creating advanced security and communications systems.

Xavier opened the door and Lance strode into the room. Ignoring the view, he kept his eyes on hers as he crossed the space and came to a stop at her desk. She rose, and when he extended his hand, she clasped it.

His grip was both firm and warm and his hand covered hers so completely that she felt a bit fragile. The sensation distracted her so much that she nearly dropped the note he’d pressed against her palm.

“You’re looking very well, Director Mason.”

“Thank you. How was your trip?” The message he’d written was concise. The security of your office may have been breached. Can you take me to a hundred-percent-secure location?

“I had a smooth flight.”

Deirdre understood perfectly. He was going to let her choose the spot. That way, if any part of their conversation leaked, she would rise to the top of his suspect list. Smart. Ignoring the surge of annoyance, she smiled at him. “Before we get down to business, why don’t we have lunch?”

For the first time since he’d entered the room, Shaw smiled. “I like the way your mind works, Director.”

She led the way out of the office and into the waiting lift. Neither of them spoke during the ride, nor during the walk through the garage to her transport. The vehicle was small and apple-red. She slid easily behind the wheel and waited while he folded his long legs into the passenger seat. Then she drove out of the garage, lifted into the air and punched up the speed. In a matter of minutes Deirdre flew over the San Diego Bay, then out over the Pacific. Finally, she executed a wide circle back toward the Torrey Pines bluffs north of La Jolla. She set the vehicle down close to the cliff edge. Then, without speaking, she led the way to some flat rocks and sat. Even if they had been followed, there wasn’t an eavesdropping device invented that would be effective in this location.

Without missing a beat, Shaw settled himself beside her. “Nice restaurant. What’s the lunch special?”

“Seafood. But you have to climb down another three hundred feet and catch it yourself.”

He threw back his head and laughed. The rich sound of it had most of her remaining annoyance fading.

Still she said, “My office is secure.”

The amusement faded from his eyes, and she nearly shivered as they turned cool. “Perhaps. But I received information today via an anonymous communications chip that Max Gale is investigating the Ripper case. Do you know anything about that?”

Deirdre kept her eyes and voice steady. “Yes. It will be in my weekly report.”

“I have no doubt that it will.” His lips curved but his eyes didn’t warm. “And I also have no doubt that you’re hoping you’ll be able to report on the success of his mission by then, thus rendering any reservations I might have about your decision moot.”

Deirdre hated that heat was rushing to her cheeks. “Are you questioning my judgment?”

He regarded her for a moment before shaking his head. “Not yet. But I’m interested in why you authorized Gale when he has such a personal connection to the case.”

She kept her eyes steady on his. “I weighed the risks. Max Gale has a theory about the Ripper case that convinced me to okay his proposal.”

“Report.”

Deirdre pulled out her palm unit, brought up Max’s document and handed the device to her boss.

After reading it, Shaw didn’t speak for a moment. “He has an interesting theory. If our Jack isn’t merely a copycat—if he’s indeed a psychic time traveler who has evaded our security system to kill women in three different time periods—that throws a whole new light on the message I received this morning.”

Deirdre studied him as he stared out at the sea. Overhead, a seagull soared high into a cloudless sky. They were sitting so close together on the flat rock that their shoulders brushed. He hadn’t objected to her decision to send Max, but she knew he wasn’t happy with it.

Finally he turned to her. “How certain are you that the security measures in your office are foolproof?”

“Very certain. If someone knows that Max has been authorized to investigate earlier Ripper murders, they didn’t get it from my office. They didn’t get from yours, either, because you didn’t have my report yet. And Max didn’t tell anyone because he left right after I accepted his proposal.”

“Well, someone sure as hell knows about his mission,” Shaw said. “Someone in our time, who has access to my office at headquarters. The communications chip was left on my administrative assistant Adam’s desk late Wednesday afternoon. The only people in my office or Adam’s during that time slot were attending a board meeting. We broke twice, and Adam had refreshments arranged for us in his office.”

Deirdre’s eyes widened. “You believe a board member slipped that communications chip onto Adam’s desk?”

He nodded. “Adam is checking the security tapes and preparing files on the men.”

“Why deliver it to you? Wouldn’t they assume you would know about Max’s new assignment?”

“Good question. What I’m thinking now is that Max’s theory is correct. Someone—the Ripper—spotted Max in London or Manhattan, recognized him as a TGS agent and is worried. Perhaps he acted out of panic. Or he could believe, given the nature of Max’s connection to the case, that Max is acting on his own, and he figures if I know, I’ll put a stop to it.”

“Then the Ripper could be someone high up in TGS.”

Shaw turned to her. “Exactly. And I intend to find out who it is. You’ll have to warn Max.” He rose then and held out a hand to Deirdre to help her up. “I don’t want to lose him.”

“Neither do I.”

Shaw kept her hand in his. “I’m not just worried about the danger he may face from the Ripper. I’m worried about him breaking the Prime Directive. If I’d lost my sister to a cruel and vicious killer, I’d do anything I could to engineer things so that I could change that.”

Deirdre saw the truth of what he said in his eyes and apprehension spiked through her. Max Gale and Lance Shaw were very much alike. Had she made a mistake in trusting Max to do his job?

“I’m depending on you to make sure that I don’t lose my best assistant director along with my best hunter.”

“Yes, sir.”

He still didn’t release her hand. For a moment, they stood facing each other while the Pacific crashed below them. “If you can clear some time, I’d like you to come back with me to Paris. I could use a second set of eyes when I look over the material Adam is preparing.”

Deirdre felt a little flutter right beneath her heart. She wasn’t sure whether it was because he trusted her enough to ask for her help, or because he hadn’t yet released her hand. Clearing her throat, she said, “I’ll have Xavier clear my schedule while I’m transporting you back to headquarters.”

6

NEELY TOOK as much time as she could rinsing crumbs off plates and stacking them in the dishwasher. Max had offered to help her clean up, but she’d shooed him into the living room. Didn’t he want to browse through the books? And it would only take her a few minutes. She needed to get some perspective, and as long as she was in the same room with him, she couldn’t seem to stop wanting him. Having mind sex with Max Gale was a little like getting hooked into a good mystery novel and not being able to put it down. She wanted to know what the real thing would be like. Curiosity was a killer.On the other hand, she needed to get her head straight about her newly discovered ability to travel through time, and what it might mean. Whenever she thought about it and about her recent visits to Jack the Ripper’s crime scenes, she became further convinced that she was supposed to do something with this special gift. Maybe her mission was to save at least one of those women.

Rinsing out the coffeepot, she loaded it in the dishwasher. Then she looked out of the window over the sink. A thin crescent moon hung low in the sky. Max had come from the future, hunting the Ripper. She was still trying to get her head around that. But it couldn’t be a coincidence that they were both interested in the Ripper. Perhaps they were meant to work together.