After a year of look, don’t touch this might be her only opportunity to do either. Or both. Experimentally she trailed her fingertips across the line of his jaw, hard and unyielding even in sleep. His dark stubble was rough, prickly. She skimmed his lips with one finger. Soft. They’d been hard earlier, when he’d kissed her in the bar.
When he didn’t stir she became bolder, brushing the back of her fingers over his cheek, pushing his hair from his forehead, running her thumb over the ridge of his brow. He was, quite simply, beautiful. She smiled wryly, fairly certain he wouldn’t like that.
She pulled her hand back before she gave in to the temptation to explore further.
“Don’t stop.” He opened his eyes, held hers.
She froze. “I… I thought you were asleep.”
“I was. Now I’m not.” He took her hand, held it as if it were fragile glass as he pressed his lips to her wrist where her pulse hammered. Carefully he tugged, pulling her to him, his other hand threading through her hair.
Yes. Please. “No.” She lurched to her feet and he let her go. Lying flat on his back, he looked up at her, his eyes asking the question his voice did not. Closing her eyes, she pursed the side of her mouth that obeyed. “I don’t have to explain to you.”
“No. No, you don’t have to.” He sat up. “Look at me, Eve.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, ashamed for herself and sad for them both.
He shook his head. “There’s no need to be sorry. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. I was just checking on my red-zones.”
He patted the cushion next to him. “Then show me. I need to understand them.”
Come on, Eve, Noah thought. Give me this much. He waited, exhaling silently when she picked up her computer and sat next to him, taking care not to touch him.
But she had, and it was all he’d been able to do to keep from rolling her beneath him and taking what he craved. Thankfully he’d held himself in check. Eve had always made him think of a doe, nervous and ready to flee. Tonight, she was more so than ever. But she’d ventured closer. That has to be good enough for now.
Beside him, she drew a breath and pushed her laptop screen back so he could see. “I’m using Greer tonight, checking out Ninth Circle for three of my red-zones.”
Her scent filled his head and he tried to focus. “Three? Aren’t there five?”
“Yes, but Rachel will be dancing at the casino.” She said it as a professor might lecture. “Natalie is always there, playing poker. We’ll go there when I’m done. There’s the dancer who was with Christy.”
He choked back a cough. The male avatar was dancing with Lola, Abbott’s raven-haired siren. Noah slid his arm across the back of the sofa. “What are they dancing?”
She glanced pointedly over her shoulder at his arm. He wasn’t touching her, but he was in her space. But she didn’t protest and he let himself relax a little. “Salsa,” she said levelly. “It’s not as easy it looks. You execute the dance steps with a series of keystrokes. It’s fast and complex and my right hand still isn’t dexterous enough.”
If that made her wistful, it didn’t show in her voice. Nothing showed in her voice, which had him increasingly frustrated. Over the next twenty minutes, Greer located three of Eve’s five remaining red-zones. She pointed them out, and in that same professorial tone she told him everything she knew about them. She knew quite a lot actually, likes, dislikes, what they searched for in the virtual world.
“This one is Kathy,” Eve said. “In Shadowland, she’s a real estate tycoon. IRL, she’s a retired real estate agent. She’s thirty-eight years old.”
IRL meant in real life, he recalled. “She’s retired at thirty-eight? Why?”
“Kathy has a degenerative muscle disease. She’s been in a wheelchair for a year now and it’ll just get worse.” She swallowed hard. “She told me when she came into Pandora’s to buy her avatar. When she’s not making deals, she plays virtual tennis. She continues the life she had in the real world, here. I didn’t know she was one of my test subjects until I hacked the list, right after Martha disappeared.”
“Bittersweet,” he murmured. “She can do what she loves, but it’s all pretend.”
“Sometimes that has to be enough,” she murmured, then looked up at him, her expression suddenly anxious. “Noah, she can’t defend herself. If he comes after her…”
He frowned at the screen. “Does she live with anybody?”
“No. She lives alone with a service dog. A nurse checks in on her once a day.”
“So she can’t leave her house to meet him? That’s been his MO.”
“No, she’s homebound. So she’s safe, right?”
“I’ll have a cruiser do drive-bys and when I leave here, I’ll check on her myself.” He called Abbott’s cell, knowing he was still awake, and made the request. “It’s done.”
“Thank you,” she said. Then she pulled away. “All red-zones are accounted for.”
Frustrated, he kept his voice level. “So we’re off to the casino?”
“Yes. Finding the last two won’t take long.”
Which was a shame. He wanted this time with her. Needed it. “Then let’s go.”
Greer was winding through the crowd when a message popped up at the base of the screen. Can I buy you a drink tonight?
“Him again. I swear, he hits on Greer every night.” Sorry, I’m calling it an early night, she typed back. Try that black-haired dancer over there. She’s been doing the salsa for a while. I bet she’s thirsty.
I tried her. She was rude, too.
“I feel sorry for him,” she said softly. “He’s just hoping for some attention.” I’m sorry, she typed. I didn’t mean to be rude.
Then let me buy you a drink.
Look, I’m in a hurry tonight. How about a rain check? Next time, for sure.
The avatar’s face beamed. I’ll hold you to it.
“Will you let him buy you a drink next time?” Noah asked.
“I don’t make promises I don’t keep.” She sent Greer to the casino and turned up the volume. He was suddenly struck by the feel of a real Vegas casino. Noise and activity… and anticipation. Greer stopped at a poker table. “That’s Natalie.”
A voluptuous redhead sat at a poker table and from the stack of chips in front of her, was doing very well. Eve paused for a moment to watch.
“Do you play?” Noah asked. “I mean as an avatar.”
She smiled, faintly. “Used to, but I don’t have time anymore. A few years ago, I was the one to beat. Or my Moira avatar was. She was the grand poker champion.”
She picked names for a reason, he knew. “Moira. What does it mean?”
“It’s a little twist on Moirae. The Three Fates in Greek mythology.”
“Hm.” He was quiet for a moment. Fate, not luck or skill. “So you do believe in fate?”
“I wish I did,” she said without inflection. “Things would be so much simpler.”
“Did you ever play poker IRL?” he asked wryly.
“A little five-card stud with friends, never for money. But Moira made a lot of money.”
He fidgeted, her sofa poking him. “I hope she spent hers on a comfy sofa.”
“No, she cashed out, and I converted Moira’s Shadowbucks into real-world money.”
“Which you did not spend on a comfy sofa.”
She shook her head, totally serious. “I bought my freedom. A car that got me away from Chicago, first and last month’s rent on this place. The rest I used to pay my first semester’s tuition. After that it was touch and go, but thanks to Sal, I manage all right.”
Noah thought of the last year, when she’d thought no one was watching. “You give your money away,” he said, his throat suddenly tight. “I’ve seen you,” he insisted when she looked like she would deny it. “I’ve seen you take dollars from your tip jar and give them away. To two women.” The same two women, he realized. “Who are they?”