Lara watched from the living-room window as LaToya wandered slowly down the street, pretending to window-shop. It was dark outside, but the street-lamps cast yellow pools of light that reflected eerily off the wet cement.
"Subject has exited his car," LaToya whispered into her phone. "Dark hair. Average height. Average looks."
"Jack has black hair," Lara said. "But I'd say he's taller than average. And way better-looking than the-"
"Average alien?" LaToya muttered. "Subject has entered the deli. Don't think he's our man. And it's starting to drizzle again, dammit."
"You want to come in?"
"Negative. I'm on a mission. Possible alien incursion." LaToya pulled the hood of her LSU sweatshirt over her head. "Hey, I wonder what aliens eat. I hope your Jack isn't here to harvest us for food."
"Jack is not an alien." But Lara wasn't sure what he was. She glanced around the apartment to make sure it was presentable. The dishes had been rinsed and stashed in the dishwasher. The kitchen opened onto the living room, which was so small, it was easy to keep clean. Her bedroom was a little messy, but she didn't intend to invite Jack there, even though LaToya insisted she should strip him to check for multiple belly buttons or hidden scales and gills.
Lara's heart speeded up at the mere thought of seeing him again. How would he explain things to her? And how would she react? What if he actually confessed to being an alien? She snorted. LaToya's silliness was getting to her. There had to be a reasonable explanation for Jack's bizarre abilities. Please let it be reasonable.
She wanted him to be human. And available. And interested in her. Oh what the hell, she wanted him to worship the ground she walked on.
"Dammit, would you look at that?" LaToya growled.
"What?" Lara strained to see out the window. "Have you spotted him?"
"No. I'm looking in the window at Mrs. Yee's bakery. She swears everything is fresh every day, but this cream puff with the chocolate icing has the same little black spot on it that the one yesterday had. I'm telling you it's the same one."
"LaToya, you've been lusting after those cream puffs for a week. Just buy one and eat the damned thing."
"Are you kidding? You know how many calories that is?"
Lights flashed across the dark, wet pavement as a new car turned onto the street.
From Lara's vantage point, she couldn't spot the car yet. "Can you see it?"
"Affirmative. Black four-door sedan. Windshield wipers on. Driving slow, like he's looking for a place to park."
Lara tensed as it drove by. "I think it's a Lexus. Could be Jack."
"Windows were tinted," LaToya continued. "I couldn't see the driver. Wait. He's parking at the corner by the magazine stand. I'll head that way."
Lara watched as LaToya strolled past the shops.
"Oh my God," LaToya whispered.
"What? Are you all right?" Lara asked. Her friend had stopped in her tracks.
"Oh my God." LaToya turned to look into a shop window that was, unfortunately, empty. "He's across the street at the end of the block. And he is so hot!"
"It must be Jack." Lara's heart pounded faster. Good God, this was ridiculous. She was acting like a teenager with a crush on the best-looking boy in school. She needed to get a grip. There'd been plenty of good-looking boys who had wanted to date her after she'd won Miss Teen Louisiana. It hadn't taken her long to realize that they'd merely wanted to boost their own ego and reputation. Any beauty queen sufficed. She'd been an object, not a person, and after the car accident, they'd all quickly disappeared.
"Status report: totally hot subject is halfway to our apartment," LaToya whispered. "Too hot to be a coldblooded lizard. I repeat, subject is not a lizard."
Lara pressed against the window, trying to catch a glimpse of him.
"Oh no!" LaToya hissed. "He just looked at me."
Lara gasped when a tall, dark-haired man jogged across the street, headed straight for LaToya. Jack.
"I told you, Bob," LaToya yelled into the phone. "It's over between us. Pack up your crap and move out!"
Lara held her breath to see if her friend's playacting would fool Jack.
"Miss." His voice could be heard over LaToya's phone. "You are Lara Boucher's roommate, no?"
"I-who?" LaToya huffed. "I don't know who you're talking about."
"I recognize your voice," Jack said.
He'd managed to hear LaToya's hushed voice from across the street? Lara wondered if super hearing was another one of Jack's unearthly abilities.
"I'm sure I haven't met you before," LaToya insisted. "And I'm busy talking to my ex, if you don't mind."
"Tell Lara I'll be there soon."
"Humph." LaToya strode away. "No, Bob, you're not taking the Courvoisier. It's mine!"
Lara spotted Jack crossing the street again, then disappearing into her building.
"Did you hear that?" LaToya whispered. "He knows who I am!"
"I don't know how he heard you whispering," Lara said. "He must have excellent hearing."
"Supersonic hearing. I bet you he's a Bionic man. You should get his clothes off so you can see which parts are real. He might be a man of steel." LaToya snickered.
"Very funny." Though a Bionic man would definitely have good stamina. A knock sounded on the door, and Lara jumped. "He's here! How did he get up three flights of stairs so fast?"
"He's freaking Superman, that's what. You be careful, girl, or he'll pull some super mojo on you. Okay, I'm next to his car now, so I'll get his plates. Call me if you need me." LaToya hung up.
Lara snapped her phone shut and set it on the coffee table on the way to the door. Super mojo? She had to admit, there was something very sexy about Jack. Maybe it was his incredible powers. Or incredible good looks. Or the mystery surrounding him. Or the whole package.
She opened the door, and her heart lurched in her chest. Oh yeah, the whole package was good. She'd always loved to unwrap pretty packages.
"Buonasera, Butch." His smile revealed white teeth and friendly laugh lines. He brushed a tendril of damp hair off his smooth brow.
She liked the way his smile reached his twinkling golden brown eyes. And the way the light rain had glued his black T-shirt to his broad chest and firm stomach. He was dressed more casually than usual, with worn faded jeans that hugged his hips and legs. His black boots looked worn but comfortable. He was a man who appeared comfortable with himself. Genuine and sincere. Gorgeous without pretense or vanity. She only hoped he could be honest with her.
His smile widened. "May I come in?"
"Oh. Yes. Of course." Lara stepped back. How long had she stood there gawking at him? She motioned to the living room. "Please have a seat. Can I get you something to drink? I made a Mississippi mud pie for dessert. Would you like a piece?"
He turned to her with a confused look. "You eat... mud?"
"It's chocolate. Nice and gooey." Lara grinned. "You've never had any before? You're in for a real treat."
"I-no, thank you."
Her smile faded. So she couldn't impress him with her cooking. "Something to drink then? We have a nice Chardonnay." If she couldn't sweeten him up for the interrogation, maybe some wine would loosen his lips.
"No, thank you." He touched his stomach, frowning. "I've been a little under the weather."
"Oh, sorry. You should drink lots of fluids."
His mouth twisted with a wry look. "I do. But please, go ahead and drink if you like."
"Okay." Another glass of wine might bolster her courage. She headed into the kitchen. "I wanted to thank you for helping me last night."
"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?