At this point, his shift was almost over, and he had a decision to make. He only had time for one visit, but now he had two desirable females awaiting his company. It was a most diverting development. After hard consideration, he realized he must see Gillie. She would feel neglected if he didn’t show her how special she was to him. In the end, Mia’s presence changed nothing of his ultimate plans; he enjoyed her intellect, but her dark, sharp looks engendered little physiological response. No, for Jasper Rowan, it always had been-and always would be-Gillie.
He closed down his equipment and hurried down the hall to her quarters. Now that he considered, it seemed like a long time since he’d called on her. How could he have been so selfish? She must’ve been so lonely, longing to see him.
Like a gentleman, he knocked on the door before he entered. He didn’t want to distress her, should she be engaged in some less-than-ladylike activity. As always, her apartment was tidy, the magazines he approved for her enjoyment fanned neatly on the coffee table. His decorum was rewarded when she stepped out of the restroom.
Her eyes shone when she caught sight of him, and it was all he could do not to take her hands and kiss them. Rowan felt like a monster for having spent his free time playing chess with Mia Sauter. Was this what men who had affairs felt like? How disgusting.
“Good morning,” she said softly.
This was surely the moment to tell her. The news would make up for his recent neglect. “I have something important to share with you. Can we sit down?”
With lithe grace she moved to the kitchen table and took a seat. “Of course.”
“Soon, my dear Gillie, we’re going to leave here. I cannot bear to keep you locked up. The board doesn’t care about my work or your well-being. They only want the money.”
“So we’re going away?” she asked in a small voice.
“Yes, darling. We’ll be together as we’ve always wanted.”
Her gasp excited him almost beyond all bearing. His penis stiffened, pressing against his zipper. Rowan imagined her lying in bed, all innocence and submission. She’d never been touched, never known desire. God, how he wanted her. He could teach her so much.
But not down here. He must restrain himself until she could give herself to him freely, no longer bound to the project. Instead, she would be with him for love, longing, and her great respect for his vision.
“When?” she asked finally, as if she couldn’t believe her good fortune.
“No more than a couple of weeks. I must tie up some loose ends and complete a couple of key negotiations first. You can be strong that long, can’t you?”
She nodded, a vision of angelic determination. “Certainly.”
It was beyond him to leave without some tangible display of his ardor. “Gillie, may I kiss you?”
Delicate color stained her cheeks. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to ask that question.”
Tacit permission, then. Of course she was too demure to be more demanding in her desires. He adored that about her.
Like a child, she closed her eyes and puckered her mouth. He found the pose incredibly erotic. Later he would taste her tongue and her seductive shock at his carnal daring. For now he could content himself with a taste of her sweet, virginal mouth.
When Gillie pressed her lips to his, he nearly came in his pants. Rowan took a deep breath and stepped back, lest he frighten her. “Thank you, my dear. You are the soul of refinement. Now, I’m afraid I have business to take care of. It’s not more important than you,” he hastened to add, “but it is paramount to the execution of our plans.”
“I understand,” she said quietly.
Rowan hurried out before his base lust frightened her. He hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said he had business. The meeting would take place before he went to sleep for the day. Like a vampire, he’d often thought with a touch of amusement.
He couldn’t wait to add Frost to his collection of test subjects. At this rate, the idiot they’d hired might even receive that bonus he wanted. Rowan laughed softly-well, probably not. He had his needles ready to dispose of the man. It just wouldn’t do to have contractors running around with too much knowledge about the facility. Though he was leaving the company, Rowan wouldn’t relax his standards while he was still on the job.
Leaving ate up precious minutes. The silo was pure genius, he thought. Who would ever search a grain storage unit on an apparently functioning farm for access to a secret underground facility? Nobody had ever found it, no matter how hard they looked or what they suspected. And then Micor silenced them for good.
Once again, the farmhouse was quiet. Though it was highly unusual, he found himself too aroused to focus on business. There was no help for it. He would have to take matters in hand, or he would horrify his sweet Gillie by coming to her like a beast.
Inside, the plainness of his home pleased him. No pictures on the walls, no knickknacks to gather dust. His penis rubbed uncomfortably against his pants as he went upstairs, but no tawdry, hasty moments in the bathroom would tarnish his angel’s worth.
Instead, he went into the bedroom, where the shades were already drawn against the morning light, his bed meticulously made. Rowan wished he had more time, but relief was vital. So he lay down and unfastened his pants, exhaling softly at the pleasure.
He brought his erection through the slit in his boxers and checked the side table. Yes, he had tissues. Good. It was time to begin.
Rowan closed his eyes and constructed Gillie’s face and then focused on the delicious innocence of her lips. His hand worked up and down as he relived that kiss. He had to take care of this, so he didn’t frighten her. Since he often sublimated his sex drive in his work, it didn’t take long.
He cleaned up the evidence, washed up, and zipped up. Endorphins left him buzzing pleasantly as he got into the car. There was one final detail to consider before he could begin his new life.
Open twenty-four hours, Janice’s Diner remained the perfect place for a meeting. He didn’t think Smith was stupid enough to drag a hostage inside; surely, he’d use the trunk of his car. Still, it paid to be prepared for anything. If he smelled trouble inside, he’d drive on, and collect Frost another time.
The parking lot was nearly deserted, a good sign. He didn’t recognize the cars, but if Smith was smart, he didn’t always drive the same one. The man hadn’t struck him as having two spare brain cells to rub together, but sometimes appearances could be deceiving. Rowan parked and stepped in through the front door.
He scanned the place and spotted his quarry near the back, as he’d expected. The man hunched like a Neanderthal. Stifling a sigh at having to see Smith again, despite the imminent reward, he made his way toward the back.
“Morning, Boss.” The nasal tones threatened to give him a headache.
“I trust you have the package in your vehicle.”
“Safe and sound.”
“We’ll have coffee and then go out together. You will precede me every step of the way. You have not forgotten that I am armed?”
“No, Boss.” Smith was more of an uncommunicative lump than usual today.
No matter. He pantomimed drinking the coffee-no telling what parasites might be in it. These yokels probably brewed from the tap. And then he signaled Smith to move.
The big man did, placidly enough. Doubtless he remembered the threat of the needle. Good-fear always made people more malleable.
Smith walked up to a battered Toyota. His big body blocked the trunk as he popped it. “Take a look. He’s not dead. I don’t think. Can you die of carbon monoxofide poisoning in a trunk? This is kind of an old car.”
“Imbecile,” Rowan bit out. “If you have killed him, you’re not getting paid.” He pushed his way forward and saw-
A spare tire.
Before he could frame an angry question, the man slammed his head against the open trunk and pushed him inside in a movement so quick his eyes barely tracked it. Dazed and in pain, Rowan fumbled for his needles, but it was too late. Through a red haze, he saw a face superimposed on a face, as if Smith stood inside a vengeful ghost.