The Mammoth Book of Futuristic Romance

Prologue

Chicago 2092, Office of National Health Chairman Dr Leo Kristoff

“Senator, I appreciate these new penalties for smugglers. We cannot allow this contraband to continue to flow unchecked.” Dr Kristoff took a long sip of his coffee while the senator rambled on through the speaker phone. “Yes, sir. It is most certainly a direct assault on the public and our core values as a society. Publishing the results of our latest studies, combined with these updated caffeine-awareness campaigns, should stem the tide of illegal trafficking among casual users.”

When the call ended, he waved Captain Derrick Simmons into his office, eager to get to more important matters. “Good morning. How’s your fiancée?”

Simmons gazed through the wide window that overlooked the lab, and smiled fondly at Lorine. “The hot chocolate was a great idea.”

“Of course, son. Little kindnesses impress women.” Kristoff checked his watch. He’d introduced the two of them, knowing Simmons was the ideal match for his niece. Their recent engagement meant he could move forward with the next stage of his plans. “You have the field report?”

“Sir.” Simmons came to attention. “The supplement is improving stamina and reflexes, as well as faster run times over increasing distances. Generally, the ‘juice’ is delivering everything you promised: a more obedient and lethal soldier. The Army is pleased.”

“Generally?”

Captain Simmons placed a disc on the desk and activated the hologram. “Nine out of ten soldiers are showing the predicted results.”

Kristoff watched the holographic soldiers rush forward with snappy salutes, eager for the next order.

“Ten per cent failure rate isn’t acceptable.” Kristoff was already considering adjustments to the formula.

“Not precisely a failure rate, sir.” The hologram shivered and a new image appeared. “This soldier has super reflexes, and he hasn’t lost a hand-to-hand or battle drill in over a year. He has an uncanny ability to anticipate his opponent’s moves.”

“Interesting. See that he gets back into the field immediately and keep me informed.”

“Yes, sir. Though he seems less inclined to blind obedience.”

“Ninety per cent gives us enough simple cattle.” Kristoff glared at the tiny representation of the odd soldier. There was potential here, he could feel it. “Ten per cent are like this one?”

“No, sir. It seems ten per cent are variables. Some of these x-factors you might find favorable.”

Kristoff appreciated the young officer’s ability to see the big picture. It was part of the reason he’d brought him into his inner circle, providing him with boosters of “nutritional supplements” unavailable to the general military. In his years of genetic research and public service, guiding policy as the Health Chairman, he’d found an open mind the most important asset when it came to advancing the human race.

Checking his watch once more, he walked over to the window overlooking the lab. Lorine was slumped at her station, her head pillowed on her hands. The sedative he’d told Simmons to put in her hot chocolate had done the trick.

“Good work, son. Take her to the operating room.”

One

Chicago, December 2096

Jim Corvin leaned back and laced his fingers behind his head as he scanned the bank of monitors. Each perfect camera angle showed him every corner of the secret warehouse compound he was charged with protecting.

Everything looked fine, but his instincts were warning him about a looming threat, and he wanted to pin it down. Professional or personal? In his line of work it could be both. Usually his sixth sense about risk and danger gave him a more concise picture. He chalked up the lack of clarity to third-shift fog.

He could turn on specialized equipment in any one of the private suites, but only when absolutely necessary. Without a specific lead, intuitive or solid, he wouldn’t breach privacy. The boss guaranteed everyone on staff the best security at all times, and complete privacy after the probationary period.

The boss, known as Slick Micky, was the most notorious smuggler in the region, and he kept the heart of his operation in Chicago. His success was directly tied to his radical philosophies about teamwork, his rare talent for inspiring loyalty, and his trade secret of only running coffee, sugar, and nicotine, while everyone believed he ran the hard stuff.

Despite his twitchy sixth sense, Jim yawned at the complete lack of activity in the warehouse. Working third shift to cover for holiday leave used to be easy. These days, he was grateful for the unlimited availability of full-caff coffee. Pulling this detail with the government-approved half-caff would be impossible.

The door from the boss’s office opened and Micky stepped inside the monitoring room. “Need a refill?”

Jim nodded and held out his mug. “What are you doing up?” With all the years between them, he no longer bothered with how Micky got around the security cameras. The boss had plenty of secrets, and Jim knew some were better left undiscovered.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Micky said with a shrug. “Figured you wouldn’t mind the company.”

“Sure.” Experience told Jim there was more to this visit, but the boss wouldn’t reveal it until he was ready. Jim watched the entrances to the warehouse cycle through on the monitors. All the guards on post were alert, though they were dressed like strung-out bums and addicts. These disguises helped conceal the state-of-the-art facility Micky had planted in the middle of a condemned urban neighborhood.

No one in their right mind got off the el and wandered into this area. It made some aspects of security relatively boring, but working with Slick Micky offered lots of other opportunities for excitement.

Jim would bet his generous pension one of those opportunities had brought the boss in here tonight.

“I’ve got a problem,” Micky said.

Jim sipped his coffee, waiting for the rest of the story, hoping this would mesh with his prickling sense of oncoming danger.

“One of the girls wants to leave.”

“Not the first time.”

“True,” Micky agreed. “But this one is different.”

More silence, which Jim filled with speculation. Smuggling by its covert nature and Micky’s unique system turned strangers into family, creating a stability most of them had never had. When one of them left Slick Micky’s team – mules, security, or even a supplier – everyone felt it.

But the boss didn’t usually worry. Routes and customers were easy enough to cover, and there were always more girls eager for the safety and steady work Slick Micky’s operation provided.

“I want you to go with her.”

“What?” Jim mentally reorganized schedules and came up with gaping holes. “If she needs help moving, we’ve got guys who can handle that.”

“She might actually need some heavy lifting.” Micky seemed to think that over. “But what she really needs is your protection.”

“This place needs protection.” Everyone on his security detail was solid and battle-tested, but he wasn’t about to leave the heart of Chicago’s smuggling operation vulnerable. “We’re on a skeleton crew for the holidays already.”

“You got a feeling you’re not telling me about?”

Jim paused, his mug halfway to his mouth. “Nothing concrete.” Only the boss knew about his extra instincts. They rarely discussed the weird sixth sense Jim had honed to a fine point during his years with the Army. Jim’s new skill most likely resulted from the juice: the military’s nutritional supplement that was meant to enhance a soldier’s performance in combat.

Several dangers of juicing were just coming to light, and while Jim had gained the ability to predict the future as it related to incoming risk and threat, most of the reported side effects weren’t as helpful. From post-traumatic stress disorder to actual mind control, thousands of warriors had been wronged by the unethical medical practices of the developer, Dr Leo Kristoff.

The pieces clicked into place. Lorine must be ready to move. The woman had joined the team of mules running sugar and coffee for Slick Micky in order to provide for and protect her young son. Just a few months ago, they’d learned that she’d graduated Harvard medical school and had once enjoyed a reputation as a brilliant researcher in her own right. Until she’d turned on her uncle to expose the dangers of his nutritional-supplement juicing experiments.

More recently, he’d heard through the grapevine that she had her eye on a rural place south of the city, so her son could grow up with fresh air and sunshine.

“So what’s not concrete?”

Jim shrugged. “My radar’s been humming, but I can’t nail down anything in particular. Threat or target.” But when he thought of Lorine, his danger sense jumped to full alert. She had one of the more complex smuggling routes, through a rough neighborhood, with high-level competition. “What are you hearing?”

“Trina caught chatter about a hit.”

“Another attempt on the route?”

“No.” Micky sighed. “This is personal.”

“They want Lorine?”

“Not exactly. They want the boy alive.”

Kristoff’s death had not killed off his organization. Assuming Kristoff’s associates were behind the hit order on Lorine, Jim couldn’t see a benefit to taking the boy alive. He gingerly set his coffee mug aside before he smashed it. “Can’t you just tell her it’s not safe to move?”

“I could do that.”

“You can’t mean to use her as bait?” The idea turned Jim’s blood cold.

“Believe me, I’m not a fan of the tactic,” Micky grumbled. “Trina and I have talked the issue to death.

Lorine has a plan for her life. For her son’s life.”

“She’s a good mom.”

“Agreed. But the boy doesn’t stand a chance if she finds herself constantly on the run.”

“So she stays here. We can keep them both safe,” Jim insisted.

“No. I don’t think we can.”

Shocked speechless, Jim studied the monitors until each camera feed had cycled through once more.

How could she not be safe here? He’d made this warehouse the safest place in the city, if not the country, through technology and anonymity. This wasn’t about his security skills or systems.

“I’m not feeling a specific threat aimed right here at us.”

“That’s my point. They don’t know – can’t know – to come here.” Micky reached over and hit the key that enlarged the day-care view. Lorine’s son slept soundly, a floppy rabbit cuddled under his chin.

“She’s on third shift?”

“She wanted the extra pay.”

Jim shot Micky a dark look. “I should be so lucky. If someone’s gunning for her to get to the kid, why are you letting her work the route?” But he already knew the answer. Changing the routine only put the enemy on alert.

Resigned, Jim returned the monitors to his preferred configuration. The emotional pressure of watching Lorine’s son, Zach, wasn’t going to make any difference. If Micky wanted him to handle this, he’d handle it.

“Who’s keeping the wolves at bay now?” Lorine was one of his favorites because of her rare combination of book smarts and street savvy. She probably already knew someone was tailing her.

“Trina’s on her.”

Well, that was something. No one else could blend in like Trina. “What do you want me to do?”

“Help them move, and handle whatever develops.”

“Any backup?”

“Intel, a few gadgets.”

“Weapons?”

Micky raised an eyebrow as he sipped his coffee. “Like you don’t already have an armory in your apartment.”

True enough. “Vehicles?”

“One of the vans is being modified now. She doesn’t have too much in the way of furniture. Mostly books.”

“Books? The heavy, dead-tree kind?”

“Both a hobby and a necessity, she told me.” Micky shook his head. “Scientists. You’d think they’d embrace technology in all things.”

Jim didn’t bother to comment. How did a bodyguard serve up protection while toting an armload of books? “Then what? I just invite myself to stay a few days after the heavy lifting’s done, and wait for the attack?”

“I don’t think it will take that long.” Micky’s intent gaze told Jim more than the words. “If the rumors are true, someone has a line on the boy that will pop as soon as he’s out in the open.”

“Good lord.” Genetic tracking devices were supposedly impossible, but Jim had seen too much in both the Army and civilian worlds. He no longer believed in impossible. He’d designed the security net here, adding layers of signal jammers along with the other protocols. The suggestion that the boy was invisible as long as he was within the security net of the warehouse made complete sense.

“And Lorine doesn’t know about a potential genetic trace?”

“Not yet.” Micky shook his head. “But she’ll never outrun this.” He clapped a hand to Jim’s shoulder and stood.

“She’s due to leave day after tomorrow. I’ve changed the duty roster so you’re done after this shift.

Check in with her when you’re both awake tomorrow afternoon.”

Jim tried to sound happy about it. “Sure thing, boss.”

Lorine Sheraton felt the tail on her. From the second el station, she’d known someone was close. Third shift played with her head sometimes, but blowing it off as too little sleep and overactive nerves didn’t make it better.

Paranoia happened, but sometimes it happened for a reason. Still, she kept to her schedule, made her drops of contraband sugar and coffee, and dealt with her legitimate job at the dairy.

It was her last night with all of the above. She’d be floating on air if the tail wasn’t hovering back there. Knowing her son was safe, and instructions were filed in case something did happen to her, kept her calm in the midst of what her experience as a mule suggested was serious danger.

Another subtle glance over her shoulder revealed nothing. She checked the reflection as she passed a window and gave points for skill to whoever the tail was.

She was too close to the future she’d painstakingly planned to lose it to a street thug.

Or worse. The thought came with a shiver of dread as she settled at her station.

No, there wasn’t a “worse” here. Lorine deliberately reviewed the facts. Her warped uncle had been discredited and recently killed by his own greedy power play. He’d never seen her while she was pregnant, nor had access during her delivery or recovery. Zach was a normal, healthy toddler. And he’d stay that way. Soon they’d be settled on a small slice of farmland south of the city. A quiet rural area in an excellent school district, with green spaces full of children. Her own definition of utopia, where the air didn’t need to be filtered and the views weren’t pockmarked with urban decay.

The daydreams got her through the boredom of her shift and eased the tension in her shoulders while she waited for someone from Slick Micky’s security detail to walk her back.

Chicago had been good to her, and she’d enjoyed more than a little satisfaction hiding here and actively undermining her uncle’s ridiculous regulations about sugar and caffeine.

She smiled when she caught sight of her escort back to the warehouse.

“You look like the cat who ate the canary,” Trina said.

They hadn’t known each other long, but Lorine considered the woman a good friend already. “Pretty much,” Lorine confessed. She waited to add more until they were alone on the street. “I was just basking in the pride of a job well done.”

“All your jobs, I take it.”

Lorine appreciated Trina’s quick understanding. “Of course. I’m glad they sent you to meet me.”

“I volunteered,” the redhead said with a wink.

Lorine frowned. “Is everything okay?”

“Sure. Sometimes I just have trouble sleeping.”

“Mm-hmm.” Lorine didn’t believe it but she let it slide. “I’ll miss you when I move.”

“That’s mutual. Though I feel obligated to add we’ll probably miss Zach more,” Trina teased.

“He is the most adorable child ever, in my completely unbiased opinion.”

Trina’s light laughter faded too quickly. “So why did you call for security?” The dark edge in her voice worried Lorine.

“Someone tailed me from the el, all the way through my route.”

“Anything distinctive?”

“No. That’s what creeped me out. It’s third shift and the route is too short for a big team. I did everything I’ve been taught and none of it worked. Sorry.”

Trina waved it off as they climbed the stairs to the el station. “Sometimes I think the talent is getting better in this town.”

“That’s unsettling.” Of course, “talent” probably meant different things to each of them. Her uncle had specialized in programming talent into the genetic code of embryos headed for in vitro fertilization. She shuddered, thinking of what he might have done to Zach if given the chance.

“Can I ask a personal question?”

Lorine nodded.

“Does this move have anything to do with Zach’s father?”

“Not at all.” Lorine pleated the strap of her purse. “The man’s most likely dead by now. He was a soldier who got addicted to the juice.” She’d called off the wedding when she’d discovered his addiction to the toxic formula and his inexplicable loyalty to Kristoff. The pregnancy test had turned positive two weeks later.

The substance had terrible side effects, a few were known already, and Lorine intended to work to reveal more in the coming years.

“And you still got pregnant?”

“Yup,” Lorine said with a smile. She considered Zach a miracle, as the health department had admitted a link between juicing and infertility.

Their trip was uneventful, and Lorine felt a little silly for calling in the support. “Maybe it was third-

shift paranoia,” she said as they neared the warehouse.

“Men are paranoid. Women are intuitive.”

Lorine chuckled. “I like that.”

“Professional philosophy. Besides, it’s better to be safe about these things. You’ve got a little one relying on you.”

“Don’t I know it.” Lorine picked up her pace. “I’m going to peek in on him, then sleep for a few hours.”

They passed the sentry doing his best squatter impersonation and entered the long corridor that dropped under the street and into the next building.

When she reached the day care, it took all her resolve not to scoop her son into her arms and cart him back up to their apartment. But she needed rest, and the staff here would keep him entertained in the morning when he woke up full of energy. So she brushed his silky hair behind his ear and indulged in a sentimental moment before she headed out to her own suite.

The lingering glow of maternal joy and the odd twilight of working third shift distracted her so thoroughly, she collided with the person trying to exit the elevator when the doors parted.

Big palms landed hot and heavy on her shoulders. “Steady, there,” Jim said.

“Ex-excuse me,” she stammered, going stiff under the touch. She felt her face heating with embarrassment. How long had it been since a man had touched her? “Lost in thought.” She tried to smile, but knew the relief was all too obvious when he lifted his hands.

“Me, too.” Jim shoved his hands into his pockets. “I was just doing the last rounds. The boss says I’ll be helping you move.”

He was built like Zach’s dad. Too big, too much . . . everything. She suspected he’d been a soldier, though no one in Slick Micky’s employ was addicted to anything stronger than full-caff coffee.

“Oh?” She cleared her throat. Jim defined safe and trustworthy. Micky had told her he’d arrange for help, she just hadn’t expected him to assign the head of security. “Thank you. There isn’t much.” She skirted around him to call the elevator back.

“Whatever you need.”

“I, uh, appreciate that.” When would the door open, and why was she acting like an idiot?

Jim tipped his head in the direction of the day care. “Is he okay?”

“Oh, yes,” she said. “He always has a blast with everyone there.”

Jim cleared his throat, but the elevator’s arrival stopped whatever he might have said.

Making sure she didn’t repeat her collision with someone else, Lorine paused before stepping inside.

“I guess I’ll see you soon.”

Jim nodded.

Two

Knowing the place was wired from the rooftop atrium to the second sub-basement, Jim wondered if the boss had used the elevator to interrupt him when he was talking with Lorine.

He wasn’t going to talk her out of moving. Well, he wasn’t going to push the issue. Not really. He’d been hoping to get some information about the boy. Any information would be better than nothing, and yet the boss was essentially sending him in blind.

Why?

When Lorine had requested a protective escort after her shift, Jim was pleased she had trusted her instincts, even if it was likely Trina who’d set her off. Why wouldn’t his sixth sense cooperate?

He stopped at the wide windows of the day care. The playroom would soon be lit up, and kids would come and go according to their mothers’ schedules.

Who would help Lorine when she was out there on her own?

He started to turn away when a movement caught his eye. Lorine’s boy came wandering into the dim playroom. He had the floppy bunny by the ears in one little fist, while the other rubbed at his eye. He stopped directly in front of Jim and tipped his head up.

“Sir?” he said, with a salute, like a soldier reporting for duty.

What the hell? Hiding his uncertainty behind his years of training, Jim dropped to one knee and looked the little guy in the eye. “Just checking in. Go back to bed. And stay there.”

The boy nodded, did a perfect about-face, and toddled off.

Jim got to his feet, heart hammering against his ribcage. That was no ordinary little boy. Granted, he wasn’t an ordinary man anymore. Juicing had changed him, in a mostly beneficial way. But the kid obviously hadn’t served in the military, and Jim hadn’t juiced since he’d left the service.

Taking the stairs down to his apartment, he tried to tell himself it was coincidence. The little guy woke up, saw a grown-up and did the normal thing for a polite, outgoing kid. But that wasn’t normal.

Micky’s warning about keeping the kid safe echoed in his head. Jim had witnessed soldiers caught up by the mind-control side effect. Nothing inside him had ever responded to an internal summons nor summoned another person, but he’d added signal jammers to the warehouse security plan anyway.

Precognitive episodes of potential danger were plenty to deal with. The nasty stuff interacted with every soldier differently. Was he changing? Or was there something in the kid that was programmed to respond to soldiers?

Lorine dreamed of church bells pealing happily, then growing more insistent. Soon her subconscious gave up the fight and she recognized the sound of the comm system.

Bolting upright, she reached for the monitor, a mother’s worry pounding in her heart when she saw the day care on the display. “Yes? What’s wrong?”

“Annie here. Zach’s fine. I hate to bother you.” Lorine blinked until Annie’s face came into view. “He refuses to get out of bed. I was hoping you could say something. It’s no big deal. But, this just isn’t like him.”

Lorine agreed. Zach rarely disobeyed. “I’ll be right there.”

She tugged jeans on under her nightshirt and grabbed shoes and a cardigan to put on in the elevator.

Telling herself not to panic didn’t help. Three-year-olds had ornery moments. Not even the best scientists could completely explain what went on in their developing brains.

Racing in would only scare the other kids and add credence to the chaotic thoughts churning through her brain. She pasted a smile on her face as she entered the day care.

It was situation normal in the playroom, but Lorine caught the concerned glances from the staff. Annie was sitting on the floor, chatting with Zach, when Lorine walked into the sleeping area. She paused and opened her arms, but her son didn’t budge.

“Hi, Mommy.”

“Hi, buddy. Annie tells me you don’t want to get out of bed.”

“Stay here.”

“How come?”

Zach shrugged.

He had to be hungry. “I’m in the mood for pancakes. You want to help me make pancakes?” The mess would be worth it if it got him out of bed.

He nodded, his smile bright. She’d never seen this combination of stubborn and happy on him.

“Let’s go, then.”

“Hafta stay here.”

“But we can’t make pancakes in bed.”

His face fell.

Lorine signaled Annie to give them a minute. “Can I sit by you?”

He scooted over and wiggled a little more than necessary.

“You have to pee?”

“Uh-huh.”

But still he wouldn’t leave the bed. She searched for the right angle to break through his odd stubbornness. “Zach, why do you have to stay?”

“He told me stay there.”

Dread coiled like a snake in her belly. “We don’t have to obey the people in our dreams.”

“Not dreamin’.”

As the potty dance got worse, Lorine resigned herself to the fight of dragging him to the bathroom against orders.

Orders. He was acting like a new recruit.

“Who told you ‘stay there’?” She listed all the names of the day-care staff. He shook his head at each one, clutching his bunny to his chest. “Who, Zach?”

“The big man.”

An image of Zach’s father popped into her head. She dismissed that as impossible. No one got in the warehouse uninvited, not even dead people. The ridiculous thought only showed how exhausted she was.

She struggled for calm. “When did the big man talk to you?”

He shrugged.

“Where?”

“At the window.”

She made a mental note to double-check with security. There had to be a camera with a record of the interaction. “No one wants you to pee in the bed. Go on to the potty.”

“No!” Tears brimmed in his big eyes. “Said stay there.”

She barely restrained her temper. “Who is a smart boy?”

“Me.”

“That’s right. Do the smart thing. Go potty, and come straight back here.”

“Big Jim said stay there.”

Jim? “Mommy says go now.”

Lorine suffered a wealth of emotions in the long seconds Zach weighed her authority over Jim’s. When her son rocketed from the bed, triumph was short-lived, quickly replaced by a quiet fury. She wanted a piece of Jim and she wanted it now.

When Zach returned, she gave him new orders, and promised him pancakes for lunch.

Leaving a happy son and relieved staff in her wake, she stormed down to Jim’s apartment.

She didn’t bother with the comm system, she pounded on the door until it opened and Jim’s wide palm caught her fist before it landed on his chest.

His bare chest.

“Lorine? Wh— What the— ” His gaze drifted down her body, lighting little fires along the way.

She yanked her hand back to her side and thought she might have exercised her intelligence by pausing to put on a bra first.

Then she thought of Zach in his dinosaur pajamas nearly wetting the bed because he was following orders, and her temper boiled over once more. “I demand an explanation.”

“Huh?” He rubbed a hand over the stubble shadowing his jaw.

“My son! What did you do?”

In the blink of an eye, he pulled her inside and she was all too close to that broad chest. He slammed the door closed behind her. He had her wrist cuffed in one hand and braced himself against the door with the other. The man was too close. Too big. But she couldn’t stop her eyes from taking a foolish journey over that perfectly sculpted arm.

“Explain. Slowly,” he said.

“Zach.” Her throat dry, she tried again. “He refused to get out of bed or cooperate with the day-care staff because you ordered him to ‘stay there’.” She put it in air quotes. “When and why would you have anything to do with my son?”

He scowled. Not at her, rather through her. In a rush, he dropped her hand and pushed away from the door, turning his back as if the mere sight of her offended him.

“Jim, I expect an answer,” she said when she could form words. His back might be his best side, from a purely anatomical standpoint, barring the flat white scars that splashed from shoulder to hip. At some point in the past he’d been doused with scalding water. Accident or abuse? From the little she knew about him, he’d likely been protecting someone.

She shook off the surge of sympathy. His past problems or heroics didn’t give him the right to upset Zach.

“I don’t know what happened, Lorine.”

“My son gave me the impression he was following your orders.”

Jim turned, his face pale. “When I was walking by, he just showed up. I told him to go back to bed and he did.”

“He was at the window?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re lying. I’d just looked in on him. He was sound asleep.”

“Maybe you woke him.” He winced under her harsh glare. “Okay, maybe not. I was tired. When he showed up, I just sent him back to bed. Seemed safest.”

That she believed. Jim was all about security all the time. Something she’d been grateful for until this morning. “What else?”

“Huh?”

She wished he’d put on a shirt. It was hard to stay mad when the man put a kick in her pulse this way.

“Why were you near the day care?” She made herself ask the more pertinent question. “What do you know about Zach?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. Other than I’m slated to help you move.” He slumped onto the couch and rested his elbows on his knees. “I’m sorry I upset your kid. I like him.”

“He likes you, too.” Which was probably why he’d been so persistent about following orders. “You didn’t do any manly little soldier routine, did you?”

“No way.” Jim shook his head, but he didn’t meet her eye.

“Any chance you can go by the day care with me and confirm your orders are lifted?”

“Sure.” He pushed to his feet. “Give me a second.” True to his word, Jim returned within moments wearing a gray sweatshirt and running shoes. Lorine tugged her cardigan tighter around her as they walked to the elevator.

“Sorry I came on so strong,” she said as they waited.

“You’re a good mom.” He gestured for her to board first, and punched the button.

“Thanks. I know I’m overprotective.” For good reason, she didn’t add. “And I’m a little wired from working third shift.”

“It happens.”

The doors parted and they stepped out, but she stopped him with the merest brush of her hand against his arm. “Why are you being so nice about this?”

“Fastest way to get to bed.” He grinned, then his words sank in and his eyes went wide. “That’s not . . .

Aw, hell. I meant— ”

She laughed. “I get it. You want to get back to sleep. Me too.” She ignored the sneaky bit of disappointment that she didn’t ignite his desire the way he ignited hers. She’d always been a sucker for a fine chest, and his would forever be the gold standard. Not that romance was on the agenda until Zach was grown. She refused to let her hormones lead her into a temptation that might jeopardize her son’s safety.

They reached the day care and she breathed easier when she saw Zach flopped on the floor working intently on a puzzle.

“Does that mean I’m off the hook?”

Lorine was about to answer in the affirmative, when Zach turned toward them. He pushed to his feet and hurried over, skidding to a stop right in front of Jim, saluting. “Sir?”

Lorine stared as Jim dropped down in front of her son and told him he was on leave until further notice and didn’t need to follow his orders anymore.

Jim was relieved his only idea had worked, when Zach beamed and ran back to his puzzle. But the horror on Lorine’s face told him he wouldn’t sleep anytime soon. Resigned, he nudged her out of the day care and back to the elevator. He was starting to wonder if he should take her up to the infirmary when she finally spoke.

“What was that? He can’t possibly know what ‘leave’ is.”

Jim agreed, but he didn’t have an explanation that would make her feel better. “That’s pretty much what happened last night. Only he did a perfect about-face and went right back to bed.”

“No way!”

Thinking back, it had been a cute maneuver in those footie pajamas.

“Wipe that grin off your face,” Lorine snapped. “This isn’t funny.”

No, it really wasn’t.

“He’s a little boy, not a toy soldier.” Her voice caught on unshed tears.

“I know that.” He guided her off the elevator and toward her apartment. “Why don’t you catch a couple more hours of sleep and we’ll discuss it after lunch?”

“But—”

He shook his head. “Lorine, he’s safe.” For now. “You should know better than anyone the value of a well-rested mind.”

“Of course.”

“Then we’ll pick this up in a few hours.”

He swiped his master key card to unlock her door. Her gasp only made him more aware of his own tired thought processes.

“Think, Lorine. You had to know I have access to all the suites.” The dark circles under her eyes made him feel worse. “It’s a safety issue. The boss would boot my ass if I ever abused my authority.”

“You’re right.” She rubbed at the tension lining her forehead. “I’m being ridiculous. You’re system is one of the reasons I’ve stayed this long.” She looked up, their eyes locked, and something inside him stirred. He wasn’t in the right frame of mind to analyze it.

“Get some rest.”

“We’re having pancakes for lunch. Zach’s favorite. Why don’t you join us, and we can talk about the move. Please?”

He had the time and she was officially his priority until they flushed out whoever wanted the boy.

“Sure.”

Her pleased expression carried him back to his own apartment where he sent an email to Micky.

Maybe knowing Zach’s reactions would help the boss interpret the rumors and threats against Lorine and the boy.

When he finally hit the bed, sleep came easy, but the dreams were hard.

Lorine took extra care as she dressed. She styled her hair and pinned it up and took time with her make-

up. She wanted a casual effect, but something more than the bare minimum of mascara and lip gloss. Not for Jim, for her. She needed the confidence of her best jeans and a holiday sweater in a bold red.

Wringing out every possible minute of sleep, she’d asked Annie to walk Zach back to the apartment while she prepped for the pancake lunch. It wasn’t just about the meal, it was making a little time for the research, too.

She wanted to believe Zach’s behavior was only a matter of his observant nature and imagination, but her intuition said she needed to face the possibility of dear old nasty uncle Kristoff’s tricks. He’d been on the cutting edge of genetic research, and a master manipulator of people. Her research had turned up anonymous video accounts of soldiers responding to a superior officer much as Zach had done.

Damned juice. But Zach had never been juiced. What had set off this behavior? Had her uncle gotten to him after all?

She took it out on the eggs, whipping them to a point better suited for waffles. Luckily Zach wasn’t picky as long as there was syrup.

But a man like Jim didn’t maintain that kind of build on refined carbs alone. And she had no business thinking of his build. On a wistful sigh, she pulled out more eggs and found a container of bacon in the freezer.

She heard the hiss and click of the front door. Jim called out, and she was startled to hear his deep voice rather than Annie’s. Glancing up, her breath caught as she saw Jim filling the doorway, her giggling son tucked under his arm.

“This urchin says you’ll vouch for him.”

“Really? I don’t know any urchins.”

“Momma, it’s me!” Zach shrieked between giggles.

Jim and Zach exchanged a look. In a blink, Jim was holding a delighted Zach upside down by the ankles. “How about now?”

“Hmm. He’s vaguely familiar.” She walked over and gave his feet a tickle. “Does it like waffles?”

“Yes!” Zach squealed.

“Then it can stay, I suppose.”

Her heart skipped a beat when Jim pretended to drop Zach, then simply melted when Jim set her son down with a gentleness that belied his size and toughness.

It pleased her to watch both man and boy stuff themselves with syrup-drenched waffles, eggs, and the last of her bacon. She lingered over her coffee, listening to her son chatter, putting off the inevitable conversation.

“I was against the move,” Jim said when she’d washed the remnants of syrup off Zach’s face and hands and sent him off to play.

“After last night you must be eager to get rid of us both.”

He shrugged.

Clearly he didn’t want to discuss last night, but she needed answers to protect Zach. Topping up his coffee, she wondered how to breach a topic most retired soldiers found uncomfortable at best. “You were juiced during your service.”

“Yes.”

She met his wary gaze with a smile. “I’ve been thinking and researching,” she admitted. “Last night was probably a result of juicing.”

“I’ve been clean— ”

“You wouldn’t be at my table otherwise,” she said with enough force to shut him up. “I’ve seen footage of soldiers behaving just as Zach did with you.”

“Juiced soldiers,” Jim muttered.

“Zach’s father, Derrick Simmons, was a juiced soldier. I think it’s safe to say we don’t know all the ramifications or variations of Kristoff’s experiment.”

“I’ve never heard of any juicing effect passing to the next generation. Most juicers are thought to be sterile.”

“True. Yet Zach is here. I imagine there’s much about juicing we haven’t learned. I ended the relationship when I realized Derrick was particularly close to Dr Kristoff.” What had happened last night had raised her fears that she’d been used by her uncle. “Regardless, something in my son automatically responded to something in you.”

She saw the hesitation again and pushed this time. “You obviously have an opinion, Jim. I’m not too fragile to hear it.”

“I’ve seen that auto-response first-hand, but I’ve never triggered it. Seeing it in Zach lends weight to your theory.”

She ran her finger around the rim of the coffee cup. “How did juicing change you?”

As a researcher she’d only been able to expose the most consistent damages resulting from her uncle’s awful “advancements”. It would be impossible to help all the men in Jim’s situation. If they even wanted help.

“I’ve got a sixth sense about danger.” He leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Think of it like an early warning system. I don’t always know where or how, but I can sense a threat. Best lead time is about two days out. I went by the day care to see if I could get a reading on the threat to Zach.”

She would not panic. When Slick Micky had assigned Jim to her relocation, warning bells had gone off in her head. Why send the best security when she only needed a bit of muscle?

“And?”

He shrugged those wide shoulders. “Nothing. Except the toy-soldier thing.”

“Why did you try?”

“The boss heard a few things on the street.”

A chill raced down her spine. “What do you know?”

“Not enough.” He shifted and his warm palm covered her fisted hand. Instead of comfort, his touch sent a new awareness shimmering through her. “Micky heard there’s a hit on you, but the goal is to take Zach alive.”

Her heart leaped into her throat. “Who?”

“We only know you’re the first target. It looks like when Zach’s in the warehouse he’s safe, but based on what happened with me, I think when he’s out of the warehouse, any juiced soldier could find him pretty easily.”

The room took a long, sickening spin. Without Jim’s warm hand as a touchstone, she might have slid to the floor. “I bought a little farm. It was going to be a quiet, normal life.”

“Not for long,” Jim said. He gave her hand a squeeze. “We weren’t going to leave you out there alone.”

Well, that was something.

“Lorine, you can postpone the move.”

She glanced over at her son playing with his trucks. “But if we don’t flush the threat out now he’ll never have a normal life.”

Jim scowled as he nodded the affirmative. “The boss thinks if I’m with you, I’ll be able to get a read on the threat. Then we can take action.”

Restless, Lorine tugged her hand free and went to clean up the kitchen.

“Let me.”

He was behind her, crowding her. Rather than threatened, she felt a jolt of desire stronger than any full-

caff coffee could provide. “No, thank you. I need to stay busy while I think this through.”

“Can you at least think out loud?”

“Sure.” She loaded dishes into the sanitizer and pressed “start”. “A blood test would be a good beginning. I can compare your blood with his. When Zach was born I did a full panel, looking for anything out of the ordinary.”

“Smart.”

She smiled. “That baseline will tell me if anything has changed recently.”

“You mean, changed when he reacted to me?”

Lorine stopped puttering and studied him. His pensive frown, the sincere concern in his quiet brown eyes, had her feeling more affection than was wise. “Jim.” She didn’t know what to do with her hands, and crossed her arms to keep them still. When he met her gaze, she continued. “None of this is your fault.

If anything, you revealed a problem I needed to know about.”

His gaze slid back to Zach. “Is his father alive?”

“I doubt it. He was loyal to Kristoff beyond all reason. Though the official reports are vague, I’m sure he died trying to protect Kristoff. He wouldn’t have been anywhere else.”

“Who else would want the boy?”

“Considering all of this, no one with good intentions,” she said with a sigh. “If Kristoff manipulated his father somehow to test-drive something new, the only way to know for sure is to give the remainder of his team a chance at Zach.”

She watched Jim lean back on the counter. It was a struggle, here in the safety of her small kitchen, to keep her mind focused on the dangers waiting for them, rather than on the man who was igniting feelings she couldn’t afford to indulge.

“You’re awfully calm about this.”

She shrugged a shoulder. “You’re awfully good at security.” And awfully good with my son. “I suppose you have other things to do today?”

“A few details to deal with,” he agreed. “Thanks for lunch.”

Lorine walked him to the door, and Zach joined them, bouncing up and down until Jim scooped him up for a hug.

When Jim was safely on the other side of the door, Lorine indulged in a moment’s enjoyment of the girlish butterflies he sent winging in her tummy. The attraction was misplaced, ill-timed, and likely one-

sided. But it was nice to know she could still experience it.

Three

Jim stalked down to Micky’s office in a foul mood about the whole mess. When she wasn’t angry at him, Lorine tempted him to all sorts of insanity. After his juiced days with the Army, he hadn’t thought to be close to anyone for longer than a one- or two-night stand.

Respecting the house rules, he didn’t look for partners among the girls who ran contraband. They were family. Practically sisters. Keeping Lorine in that tidy box was becoming a serious challenge. Because she accepted him, or because she needed him?

Hell, they all needed him.

Good thing she and that cute kid of hers were moving away. Once they were safe, he’d count it a job well done.

With a curt nod for the guard posted outside Micky’s office, he rapped on the door. The permission was instant, and Jim walked in, closing the door behind him.

Without a word, he reached for Micky’s keyboard and took the office off the surveillance grid. He wanted complete privacy for this conversation.

“You’re in a mood.”

Jim ignored that. “Do you know who’s been hired to take the kid?”

“Not yet.”

“Did you see my message? Have you found any leads?”

“Not yet.” Micky shook his head. “You look rough around the edges. What’s going on?”

“I’ve got an idea.” He gave Micky an overview of Lorine’s theory and the first of a couple options he’d thrown together. “I could take the two of them out on the town for a couple hours. The aquarium would work.”

“Just a happy family outing?”

Jim rolled his eyes. The boss had romance on the brain since finding Trina. “Just a casual, covert exercise.”

“No.”

“I’ll rig a jammer for the kid to wear.” Jim sat back, not bothering to hide his frustration. “Whoever is after her knows she’s in Chicago, and they assume the kid is with her.”

“Agreed.”

“How about a little recon?” He patted his pocket. “I’ve got a few strands of the kid’s hair. If they’ve managed some sort of genetic trace, this might be enough to draw them out. Trina can use her powers to cast a mental illusion and make it look good.”

“Only if she knows where to cast it.” Micky sipped his coffee. “How about this? You take Lorine out tonight. Zach stays here. Keep the hair sample on you. Trina and I will tail you.”

“What about the warehouse?”

“Got a feeling?”

Jim grumbled. “I hate it when you ask that.”

Micky grinned. “I know. So do we have a plan?”

He hesitated, wondering how Lorine would react. “Double up security teams at the el and the street entrances and you’ve got a deal.”

“No one’s ever followed her as far as the el, but consider it done. Looks like we’ve got ourselves a double date,” Micky added.

Jim didn’t care for the smug expression. “A date would break protocol,” Jim said, feeling more regret than he should.

“Nah. As of last night, Lorine’s officially off my payroll. She’s fair game.”

They’d known each other for too long for Jim to take the bait. While he might admit to himself he was attracted to a woman who didn’t hate him for the lasting side effects of juicing, he wouldn’t admit that to the boss.

He messaged Lorine, and got an affirmative on the date, once she was assured of Zach’s safety.

After making a dinner reservation, he modified a couple of security bracelets to block any signal transmissions. It was a quick job and not fully tested, but he expected them to work short-term.

Armed with a brief list of names and faces after digging through classified reports of Kristoff’s death, Jim felt prepared for everything but the “date” itself.

“It’s not a damned date,” he muttered, staring at his closet, but the reservation required more than jeans and a button-down shirt.

He cursed Micky to hell and back because the date idea still rolled around in his head half an hour later when Lorine opened her door. She was an absolute knockout in a low-cut emerald dress that flowed over her curves, and heels that boosted her to nearly his eye level. She’d piled her hair up, so that all he could think about was setting his mouth to the delicate creamy skin at her nape. He’d bet a week’s salary the pendant resting over her heart was a genuine emerald.

The simple bracelet he’d modified would look out of place. He left it in his pocket and convinced himself she’d never leave his sight.

“Can you run in those shoes?” With the tangle of desire and concern in his head, it was the safest phrase he could offer as they moved down the hall.

“Oh, I can hold my own.” She winked at him and kicked up a spiked heel. “At a pinch they are excellent weapons.”

“Good to know,” he said, as they took the elevator to the garage level. “The risk doesn’t bother you?”

He recognized the signs of anticipation. The sparks she gave off weren’t from jewelry or make-up.

“Surprisingly, no. I feel so ready for this.” The elevator opened and she stepped out, glancing around the garage. “Where’s our backup?”

He ignored the sway of her hips. “Probably out there already,” he replied, leading her to the waiting car and opening her door. The only two-seater in Slick Micky’s fleet, the modifications guaranteed a quick getaway if things went bad.

“You’re not claustrophobic, are you?”

“Not a bit.”

“Let’s hope this doesn’t change that.”

He’d known she was strong and brave, just by making the choices that had brought her to Slick Micky’s family. But this was a whole new side of Lorine, a side that made him want more than he knew he could have. Tonight marked the first step in making sure her plans for her son’s future succeeded. With renewed focus on the “mission”, he eased the car out of the garage and into the tunnel.

When they emerged, he smiled at her small gasp. This time of year, the city sparkled with lights and the darkness hid the worst of the decay.

He drove through the city, hoping they’d pick up a tail. As their reservation time neared, he took a detour down Lakeshore Drive, not quite ready to put her on display.

“Anything?”

“No.” His sixth sense wasn’t firing either. He glanced over, his breath catching at the sight of her skirt riding high on her legs. Maybe he was too distracted for his radar to function properly. “We’ll see how dinner goes.”

“You’re sure whoever is after me will find me at a ritzy place downtown?”

“I’m not sure of anything other than someone wants you out of the way so they can get to Zach.” He should tell her he’d brought Zach’s hair. “If we’re dealing with genetic tracking anything is possible.”

“Agreed.”

“The hit on you sounds more old school. Where does Zach go if something happens to you?”

“My parents would raise him. But I’ve already checked with them. They’re safe and they haven’t had any problems. Oh, wow. We’re dining here?”

He grinned, pleased with her reaction as he pulled to a stop at Water Tower Place. Handing the keys to the valet, he felt the first tremor of trouble. Instinctively, he draped his arm across her shoulders as they walked inside. When they were seated, he leaned close. “What’s security like at your parents’ place?”

Her smile was like a fist to the gut. “It would make you drool.”

“If whoever is after Zach knows that detail, they’ll definitely make the grab before he gets there.”

The waiter arrived, took their drink requests and hurried off.

“Why didn’t you just go to your parents when things got rough?”

“Insecurity with a side of paranoia.” She kept her eyes on the menu, but he knew she was aware of everything around her. “Running to my parents felt like an invitation to disaster. Even with their excellent security, it seemed like taking us all out at once would have been relatively easy.” She met his gaze. “Stop frowning. Besides, I’m a grown-up.”

That was true. “But living in obscurity—”

She rolled her eyes. “Might have worked if my uncle hadn’t apparently outsmarted me somehow with Zach’s father. Can you do me a favor?”

“Sure.” He knew he’d do anything she asked. Even beyond this evening, beyond her move, keeping his distance felt all wrong.

“For the duration of dinner could we just pretend we’re not doing the worm on the hook thing?”

Her husky voice slid over him and had him wishing they could pretend other things as well. Not trusting himself, he nodded. The resulting smile and happy light in her eyes unlocked a part of him he’d buried during his years of service.

The excellent food and service paled in comparison to the delightful company. Pretend or not, he could get used to nights like this. Beautiful and intelligent, Lorine put him at ease. It was a feeling he hadn’t realized he’d missed. She flirted just enough to draw him out and make him laugh.

To anyone else, they were simply another couple out for a romantic evening. Even with his senses sounding the alarm of imminent trouble, he struggled to remember this moment with her was just a game.

When his sixth sense spiked, he blinked against the image of sunlight flashing off a windshield. In the soft glow of candlelight at the table, he winced and rubbed his burning eyes.

“What is it?”

“Trouble,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Where?”

His instincts said they’d face that image during the move tomorrow, but something was closing in on them right here, right now. “I usually have more warning.” He pushed his cuff back from his watch, but before he could use the comm hidden inside, the alert came through the tag pressed into place behind his ear. “Threat identified and closing in,” Trina said. “We’ll handle it. Get her out. Car is in the alley.”

Jim didn’t like retreating, but Lorine mattered more than his pride. He glanced around. Who was the enemy? How would they attack? “Go to the restroom,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze. “I’ll be right behind you, but have a shoe ready in case.”

She nodded as she rose, and strolled through the restaurant as if she didn’t have a care. God, she was good.

“Boss?” Jim spoke into the hidden mic.

The reply of two clicks told him Micky was taking down the threat. Resigned, Jim swiped his card through the reader and added the tip.

As he stood, his knee buckled in response to his sixth sense. The enemy would go for a debilitating blow to his knee first. Too bad he didn’t know precisely when they would strike, but now he would be on the lookout.

Nearing the restrooms, he recognized the heavy thud of a body slamming into a wall. He rushed to the door. “Lorine?”

“Gun!”

He jumped aside just as a soft pop sent a bullet ripping through the door where his knee had been a fraction of a second earlier. His adrenaline pumping, he barreled through the door to rescue Lorine.

“Great timing,” she said, a wide smile on her face and her eyes glittering with excitement. Her dress torn, hair tumbled, and her feet bare, she looked like an angry goddess thrilled with her triumph. Dragging his eyes away, he followed her gaze to the man slumped behind the door. “What’d you do?”

“Sedative hypospray in the heel.” She held up the two pieces of her shoe, then clicked the heel back into place.

Impressive. “Recognize him?”

“It’s Zach’s father.”

“Are you sure?” Maybe he’d memorized the wrong faces.

“Oh, he’s had work done, but that’s Zach’s father.” She slipped those narrow feet back into her shoes.

“What do we do with him?”

“Backup is standing by.” Jim punched the anonymous code into his cell card and sent the message. With the comm in his watch, he updated Micky and Trina. “We’ve got to get you out of here.”

Handing the gun and silencer to Lorine, he dragged the deadweight dad into a stall and cuffed him to the toilet.

When he held out his hand, Lorine rushed toward him and he savored the feel of her warm body nestling close as they moved through the kitchen and out into the alley. In the car, he flipped down the false front on the dash and turned on the signal jammers. He wasn’t in the mood for more confrontation just now.

“Some date,” she said when they were a few blocks away.

“It’s gone better than some I’ve had,” he admitted.

Lorine stared out the window, watching the sparkling lights fade as he sped away from the city. “Me too,” she said at last.

“Really?”

“You have to admit a covert op adds an edge of excitement to the evening.”

“And you wanted to pretend things were normal.”

She laughed. “I should admit something else.”

Jim waited. Hoped.

“I’ve got a sample of Zach’s blood in my pendant.”

“I’ve got his hair in my pocket.”

“Oh, we’re a pair.” The short laugh was brittle this time. “Genetic tracking.” She gave a low whistle.

“If only we could write this one up for the science journals.”

“This is a first. Better to wait until you figure out how Kristoff managed to tweak Zach.”

“That’s my top priority now that I know he’s safe.”

“We’re not quite out of the woods on that one.”

“What do you mean?”

He hated putting a damper on her mood, but reality was often brutal. “Lorine, do you believe your ex simply wanted custody?”

Lorine thought about it. Pressing the pendant to her lips, she stared out the window again. “No.”

Shifting in her seat, she studied Jim’s strong profile, grateful for his expertise and logic. Adrenaline or attraction, she wanted to indulge a fantasy and forget the looming threats.

“We should go forward as if you don’t know anything,” he said. “I’m sorry it has to be that way.”

“Your sixth sense?”

He nodded. “I believe they’ll come for Zach when we’re on the road.”

“And they won’t give up.”

“No.” He sounded so sad, so resigned.

“Jim, the move can wait. Zach doesn’t know what he’s missing. I can get my old job back.”

“No.” He swerved to the shoulder and put the car in park. She could only stare as his big hands flexed on the steering wheel. “You have a right to want a normal life. Zach has a right to a normal life.”

“I think that ship’s sailed. Derrick was convinced Zach was with me tonight.” She twirled the pendant.

“His confusion was my only opening. If my uncle wasn’t already dead, I’d kill him myself.”

“You think Kristoff planted more than a genetic trace in Zach?”

“I think he was demented and evil and anything is possible. With time and the right lab, I will know for sure.”

“The boss’s friends will get something out of Derrick and his pal.”

“I’m sure.” But Lorine didn’t much care about enemies present or future. Jim was right here, filling her senses with a longing she didn’t want to deny. She gazed up into his shadowed eyes and trailed a finger across his smooth, square jaw.

“Got a lab at your farm?”

“Not yet.”

“How’s security?”

Her pulse spiked at the raw desire in his voice. “Lacking.”

“I could fix that.”

“I’m sure.” But she didn’t want to think about anything else right now. He was everything she told herself she didn’t want and everything she didn’t want to give up. “There’s no lab right here.” She watched his dark eyes trace the path of her tongue as she wet her lips. Her pulse leaped. “And the security is great.” A gentle tug on his tie brought his mouth down on hers with a heat and a joy that sent her reeling beyond her darkest fantasies.

She trembled when he whispered her name like a prayer, and under the tender caresses of his warm, strong hands she learned what it meant to be cherished.

Hours later in the warehouse lab, Lorine compared blood samples from her son, his father, and Jim. Even after debriefings and renegotiating with Slick Micky, her body still replayed her encounter with Jim.

“Planning to sleep on the road?”

She glanced up, admiring the way Jim filled the doorway. “What road?” The flash of hope in his eyes confirmed her decision.

“You’re not moving?”

“In your professional opinion is it the smart thing to do?”

“Not at all.” He took a step closer. “But it’s what you wanted for Zach.”

“Zach should grow up happy and strong, not running from whoever will use him. Here people love him, and can help me keep him safe.”

Jim’s expression sobered. “We’re family here.”

He was thinking of the standard warehouse rules. She’d cleared this with Slick Micky and yet she shivered, weighing the risk and reward of taking this next step. Her feelings for Jim, rooted in respect, affection, and desire, had deepened practically overnight to love. Was it the same for him? She said a prayer she hadn’t misinterpreted the emotion behind his actions and kisses last night.

“We could be.” She waited for her words to sink in. When his gaze locked with hers, the intensity stole her breath. “If you’ll have us,” she finished on a whisper.

“If I’ll have you?”

His expression unreadable, she mentally cursed her miscalculation. She’d moved too fast, assumed too much. “It’s more than the security.”

“Lorine.” With his startling speed, he crossed the lab and laced his fingers with hers. “Security is a good foundation.”

“For love.” She kissed him tenderly.

He broke the kiss and cupped her face in his hands. “For love.” His mouth tilted. “You know you’re getting the raw end of the deal with me?”

“Nah. Zach is still a serious security risk.” She smiled as the laughter rumbled through his broad chest.

“We’ll figure it out together,” he said. “Your skills in here, mine out there.”

As tears brimmed, she could only nod. “When the farm sells— ”

“Why sell?” He leaned back. “Let me work on it. When the security’s set we’ll make it a frequent vacation spot.”

His confidence was contagious. “You think so?”

“I promise.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “All of our children will know what fresh air and sunshine feel like.”

He couldn’t have said sweeter words, or given her more of a hope for a truly free future.