“No. I'm telling you we suspected he had some ties to those planning the destruction of the admiral's new project. That he helped fund that laboratory came as a shock.” Olivia frowned. “I read about Delancey. So he was the team's commander before you all became Circ?” Fallon and the others nodded. “And now Montaña works for him, is that correct?” Mrs. Sharpe nodded. “Unfortunately yes. What's worse, we can't find him. It's like all traces of him vanished into thin air.”
“I'll find him,” Jules muttered. “And I'll make him lead us to Delancey.”
“Yes, well, that's what I wanted to talk to you all about. Though this particular mission didn't succeed as I'd hoped, it has brought us a step closer to a new group we need to monitor.”
“The PPA?” Fallon asked. Just a year and a half ago, the Project's Protection Agency had consisted of rogue Circs and Elliot Pearl's henchmen, assholes who did whatever the scientist thought necessary to perpetuate his bastardized version of Project Dawn.
Fallon and the others had thought the PPA was no more, ever since Pearson Labs had fallen. Then again, they'd thought mutant Circs were no more, and they'd run into several in the jungle.
“No, not the PPA. Rumors of a new type of warfare have been circulating among the Defense Department, regardless of our intent to keep things quiet.” Fallon wondered. Our intent? Was Sharpe still in bed with Admiral London?
She glanced his way, her brow raised, and he immediately amended his thoughts. Not “in bed,” “in league.”
Olivia's eyes widened. “Admiral London's new project, his psychic soldiers and sailors.
They're causing problems.”
“Only because several other nations out there are developing their own as well. We need to quash this threat as soon as possible. We can't afford to get behind in our race to develop the next line of defense against a strange new warfare that's not all that long in coming. You Circs are just the beginning of it, whether you want to be or not. But you're not enough to handle an army or navy of psychics. Not alone.”
“Oh?” Fallon asked, curious about the expressions crossing Olivia's face. The troublesome woman looked interested. Why the hell couldn't he have garnered the same fascination?
“We're going to investigate anything having to do with the group targeting Admiral London's team. No matter how bizarre, small, large, out-of-the-way, or close the threats may come. Dawn Endeavor will strive to do its best.”
“That sounds really grand, Alicia,” Tersch said, a bite in his tone. “But Delancey's our main concern right now. The admiral has the Pentagon at his disposal. Let him use them to do his dirty work. The four of us have better things to do.” Jules didn't disagree.
“Actually, Gunnar, it's you five. Not four.” She glanced at Olivia. “Olivia has consented to stay on as our new intelligence specialist.”
All eyes swung to Fallon.
“Is that so?” He crossed his arms over his chest, daring to hope she meant it. He tried but didn't think he could contain the joy bursting through him. And he wanted to stay angry. That way he wouldn't be crushed if she continued to reject him.
Olivia shrugged. “Mrs. Sharpe asked me to stay, but only if it's acceptable to the four of you.” She cleared her throat. “I'd be joining the team, so to speak. If that's okay with all of you,” she repeated. Her glance at Fallon seemed uncertain.
Jules's anger faded under a huge smile. “Joining the team? Hell yeah. How can we say no to another Circ? Who would have thought, huh, Fallon?”
Fallon couldn't turn away. Was the woman asking if he wanted her to stay? He'd fucking admitted he loved her. He hadn't pressured her into a response, and he'd left her alone, the way she'd wanted. For an entire week he'd kept his distance while learning as much as he could about the infuriating woman. Did she not understand the flowers and poetry he'd been leaving on her bed each night?
“Jesse, could I talk to you in private?” she asked.
“Sure.” He stood and walked out of the room. After heading up the stairs to her bedroom, he noted her suitcases still packed, and his anger returned. “Well?”
“I…ah…I was hoping you'd be okay about this.” She bit her lower lip, drawing his attention from the turmoil in her eyes. “You did mention something about…about loving me.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I didn't think you'd mind if I stuck around.”
“Mind? Mind?” His voice rose. “You have suitcases packed, ready to leave!”
“Only to move my things into your suite. I thought we could be together. You know, if you still want me.”
Hope fluttered within his breast. “You have to be the densest woman on the planet. Didn't you see the flowers? Did you not read the fucking poetry I left you every goddamn night?” He dug his hand into his pocket and withdrew a small box. “Do you know what this is?” Her beautiful eyes widened.
“Yeah, and it's your size. How do I know that? Because while you spent the week doing anything and everything to avoid me, I drove up to Dam Neck, broke into your house, and snooped. I know your bra size, your favorite color, how much you like ice-cream sandwiches, even when it's cold out. That you aunt is getting tired of your putting off another visit, and that your cousin Miguel just had another kid. His wife had a girl, in case you were wondering. They named her Olivia.”
“Really?” Olivia whispered.
Fallon placed the ring on the desk near him. Then he ripped off his shirt and tugged free of his jeans. He'd waited an entire week, and his balls were bluer than Tersch's eyes. Olivia stared at him with hunger, pleasing him that she still wanted him.
Her gaze ventured from the ring to his cock, and the scent of ripe cherries filled the air.
“I love you, you know that?” he rasped. “You complained we don't know each other well enough, but I know what I know. A call to your aunt filled me in on a lot you never bothered to tell me, like how all your old boyfriends have an uncanny resemblance to me,” he added, smug about that at least.
The admission blindsided her, as he'd meant it to. “Oh my God. They do!”
“And we're not that different, baby. I like the books you have in your place, even some of the movies. But don't tell Tersch, or he'll never let me live down my Sleepless in Seattle fixation.
I'm a closet romantic like you.”
Olivia's eyes filled, but he didn't worry. He sensed her capitulation. His beast sighed with relief and resolved to make her say the words.
Fallon stepped closer and slowly removed her clothing, one button at a time. Once he had her naked and breathless, he kissed his way down her body, punctuating each caress with facts about himself.
“I like vanilla over chocolate.” Kiss. “Not into pets, but I like kids.” Kiss. “I'm a sucker for a sexy Brazilian, but only if she has blue-green eyes and a stubborn brain.” Kiss. “She has to know what I'm feeling, because if she doesn't, then I can't very well ask her to share my thoughts, can I?”
Olivia swallowed hard. “That doesn't bother you? That I might know how you feel?” She paused. “When you're telling the truth?”
“Baby, I couldn't care less. If I work at it, I can read your thoughts. Does that scare you?” She shook her head and sighed when he closed his lips over her breast and sucked.
“Why?”
“Because I can shield myself, and you can too,” she admitted. “God, Jesse, I love you so much. I'm just afraid.”