"You're welcome." Jack pivoted in the middle of her living room as he looked around. "How is your partner?"
"Harvey's going to be all right, but he'll be out of commission for a few months." Lara set her wineglass on the coffee table, then settled on the love seat. Her heart did a little flip when Jack sat beside her.
His gaze wandered over her, lingering here and there with apparent appreciation. "And how are you, Lara?"
"I–I'm fine." It was hard to talk with him so close. Hard to think when he spoke her name like it was an endearment. "The captain gave me some time off. And I guess I'm going to get some sort of commendation. It's really embarrassing that everyone thinks I'm a hero."
Jack extended an arm across the back of the loveseat. "Cara mia, you are heroic."
Cara mia? Lara had grown up hearing ma cher in Louisiana, but the Italian version sounded new and exotic. Even so, she shouldn't let it go to her head. Jack could use those words all the time without meaning them. "I'm not a hero. You're the one who saved the day. Then you programmed the Trents to make me sound like RoboCop."
"It was the best way to explain what happened. The important thing is that you're safe and unharmed."
"Yes, I am. Thank you. I don't mean to sound ungrateful. I–I'm just uncomfortable with taking credit for something you did." She was also uncomfortably aware of his hand resting just inches from the back of her neck. She felt a very slight tug. Was he touching her hair?
He smiled. "You're an honest person. I like that."
"What about you? Can you be honest with me?"
His smile faded. "I would like to be, but I–I'm in a bit of a bind, actually."
Her heart sank. "I don't get it. Why can't you just tell me the truth?"
"I'm truly sorry. I'm under orders from my boss not to talk about certain sensitive matters."
"Your boss? He would be with MacKay Security and Investigation?"
"Yes."
"I looked that up on the Internet. It didn't say much, just that the company was started in 1927 and was based in London and Edinburgh."
Jack nodded. "That is true."
Since he was responding, her questions were apparently dodging the certain sensitive matters. She decided to keep digging. "What does this MacKay company do?"
"We provide security services for clients around the world, and we specialize in investigation."
"That's what you do? Investigation?"
"Usually, yes."
"Are you investigating something here in New York?"
"No."
"Providing security?"
"Yes."
Lara sipped some wine. This was like pulling teeth. If only she could get him to loosen up a bit. "Are you sure you wouldn't like some wine? Or something stronger?"
His mouth curled up on one side, and his eyes gleamed with amusement.
Damn. He knew what she was up to. She needed a different strategy, but she couldn't bring herself to blurt out a question about him being an alien or a Bionic man. It just seemed too ridiculous.
But. she could always try LaToya's suggestion of examining his body. "You poor thing. Your shirt's all wet. Why don't you take it off, and I'll toss it in the dryer."
He glanced down at his damp T-shirt. "It's not that bad."
"It's sopping wet. You'll catch your death of cold."
His mouth twitched. "I doubt that."
"I insist." Lara leaned forward to grasp his T-shirt and yank the hem free from his jeans. What was she expecting to find? Gills across his rib cage?
"Are you trying to ravish me, bellissima?"
Her cheeks flamed with heat. "Of course not. I just don't want you to get sick from wearing a wet shirt."
"How thoughtful of you." His eyes glimmered. "I believe my jeans are a bit damp, too?"
Her face burned hotter. "They seem all right to me."
"Let me know if you change your mind." He stood and finished tugging the black T-shirt free from the jeans slung deliciously low on his narrow hips. A trail of dark hair emerged from his jeans, striking for its deep contrast to his pale skin.
Lara dragged in a deep breath, forcibly avoiding any mental pictures about where that trail of hair led to. Man of steel? No, she wasn't going to think about it. But the paleness of his skin did surprise her. How long had he been working the night shift?
He rolled the T-shirt up further, revealing a swirl of dark hair around his belly button. One belly button. Very touchable-looking skin. Nothing at all alien.
Her mouth went dry as the T-shirt rose higher. Surely an alien couldn't fake those stomach muscles, chest hair, and strong pecs. What scientist would stick chest hair on a Bionic man? She could always touch it to see if it was real. Give a few of those dark curls a tug to see if they were glued on. Just for the sake of her investigation, of course. Her hands curled into fists, resisting the temptation.
He was moving so slowly. Damn him. Was he purposely trying to emphasize how sexy he was? He lifted his arms, and muscles rippled and bulged across his chest and shoulders as he yanked the T-shirt over his head. Lara bit her lip to keep from moaning. Or drooling.
He dropped the shirt on the coffee table. "Your turn."
"Hmm?" She dragged her gaze up to his face. The gold flecks in his eyes were gleaming. "I–I didn't get wet."
His nostrils flared and his chest expanded as he took a deep breath. His voice was soft and deep. "Are you sure, cara mia?"
Lara pressed her thighs together. Oh God, what if he also possessed a super sense of smell?
He sat beside her on the love seat. "I should warn you, love. Even if you take me to your bed, I will not be able to tell you what you want to hear."
She gazed dumbly into his warm brown eyes for a moment before his words clicked, then she gasped. "I wasn't intending to bed you for information. How dare you!" She snatched his damp T-shirt from the coffee table and marched into the kitchen.
He stood and slid his hands into his jean pockets. "I misinterpreted the situation." He ducked his head and studied his black leather boots. "I have insulted your honor. I apologize."
He actually looked embarrassed. A small fissure zigzagged across Lara's defenses and tugged at her heart. In spite of Jack's suave and sexy demeanor, she suspected there was a sweet and vulnerable man underneath.
She tossed his shirt into the small dryer unit that was stacked on top of the washing machine. "I only wanted to talk to you. I want to know how you can move so quickly. And how you can appear and disappear. And how you can control people's minds."
He followed her into the kitchen. "I am truly sorry, but I cannot explain."
So she was at a dead end. She punched the button on the dryer control panel, and a whirring sound filled the strained silence. How on earth could she let this go? "My roommate thinks you're an alien."
He gave her a wry look. "Do I look like an alien?"
"You could be hiding a different body underneath. Or given your ability to mess with people's minds, you could be manipulating everyone into seeing you as human."
He leaned back against the kitchen counter and folded his arms across his broad chest. "You see me as I am. I'm not able to influence your thoughts."
"I only have your word for that."
His brow furrowed. "I'm not lying about it. Believe me, if I could erase your memory, I would have already done so. And we wouldn't be having this awkward conversation."
Awkward was right. "Can—can I touch you? I mean, just to see if you feel normal."
He uncrossed his arms and held them straight at his sides. "Be my guest."
She took a deep breath, then approached him and placed a hand over his chest where his heart should be. His chest hair was like a soft, silky cushion. Individual strands curled around her fingers as if welcoming her touch. "I can feel your heart. It's beating a little fast."