“Maybe he did suspect something and they wanted to get rid of him.”
“Then they would have killed him.”
“Not if they needed him as bait for you to follow,” he said patiently.
“Then why shoot him in the leg so he can’t walk? They had a long way to go to get him out of the bayou. It doesn’t add up.”
“I hate to disillusion you, but some men torture others for the sheer pleasure of it.” Nicolas reached out and tucked the curtain of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering in the silky strands. Touching her seemed as necessary as breathing. Electricity sizzled in his bloodstream. He forced his mind to think of something else. Something besides petal-soft satin skin and a sexy, intriguing mouth. “Something with teeth. A big cat. Really large, maybe a saber-tooth.”
“What in the world are you talking about?”
“I’m occupying my mind with things other than sex.”
She glared at him. “We are discussing something very important here. You might want to participate and then you won’t be thinking about sex.”
“As long as you’re sitting in front of me, Dahlia, I’m afraid sex is going to be uppermost on my mind. The saber-toothed tiger was to keep all other images out of my head,” he added piously.
She bared her teeth at him. “How’s this for an image?”
He closed his eyes and groaned, vividly picturing her small white teeth nipping over his skin. “That wasn’t nice.”
Dahlia smiled at him, a soft, feminine smile. Sheer poetry. Nicolas was certain she didn’t need many other weapons. “I suppose it wasn’t, but you deserved it.” The smile faded and she rubbed her chin against her knees again. “Follow me on this for a minute. Let’s say Jesse is really working for the government. If we’ve been doing our job, and it was all aboveboard, then there would be no reason for the destruction of my home and family.” She could feel the anger begin to coil inside of her, to wrap itself around the tight knot of sorrow. The emotions were dangerous both to her and to anyone near her if she allowed them to rise out of control.
Nicolas was so tuned to Dahlia he could feel the energy gathering around her, generated by her own intense emotions, no longer sexual, but turbulent. He reached out and circled her ankle with his fingers, making a loose bracelet, but maintaining contact. At once the energy lessened, gave her breathing room.
“I’m sorry, it just happens sometimes.”
“It’s normal to feel grief and rage over the loss of your people and your home, Dahlia. The energy doesn’t invade me the way it does you. I don’t know why it can’t really connect with me. I almost wish it could, especially if it meant I could run across the ceiling.”
Dahlia took a deep breath and let it out. “I’m fine again. Thank you.” It amazed her that just by touching her, Nicolas could ease the burden of the continual assault of energy, even when it was her own.
“So, what you were saying is, it may have been someone else who attacked you. Do you have that kind of enemy, Dahlia?” Nicolas tried to keep the conversation moving. Each time they stuttered to a halt, sensations seemed to overwhelm them both. The awareness was acute and intense and threatened to consume them at every turn.
“I don’t know about enemies. I don’t know people well enough to accumulate enemies, but I do steal things from companies. Mostly things that have to do with submarines and new weapons, things they shouldn’t have in the first place. I only go in at night and slip past the guards and the security system, copy the data, and get out, or, more often, I go in and recover the stolen work so no one else has access to it. I could have been caught on a security camera, although it’s highly unlikely. Or maybe I was traced through Jesse. There very well could be a traitor in the group I’m working for who sells that kind of information to others. There’s big money in new weapons on the open market.”