Page 20 of Wired (Buchanan-Renard 13)

  He felt her tighten around him as she cried out his name. He found release at the same time, and damn, it nearly killed him.

  “Holy . . . ,” she whispered

  She sounded shell-shocked, and Liam smiled, gratified. He still couldn’t move away from her, so he held her tight as he rolled onto his back.

  Allison didn’t move. She wanted to remember how this felt to be held by him and loved.

  “Are you all right?” he asked breathlessly.

  She panted her reply. “Oh yes.”

  As much as she wanted to linger, she forced herself to roll away from him and get out of bed. She found her robe and put it on, threaded her fingers through her hair to give it some kind of order, and walked barefoot out of the room.

  What the hell? “Where are you going?” Liam asked. Did she already regret what had just happened? He hoped not. He sure as certain didn’t. He’d wanted her from the minute she opened the door tonight.

  “To fix the printer.”

  Liam was floored. This was a first for him. He was typically the one who would ease his way out without hurting feelings. There was always the time after sex when the woman he was with wanted affirmation that it had been wonderful for him, even though it usually wasn’t. It wasn’t bad, either. It was just sex.

  Until Allison.

  Bewildered by what he was feeling, he decided he wasn’t going to waste another minute thinking about it. Taking her lead, he got dressed. When he joined her, she was printing the second copy of the contract. Liam once again read it over, and only when he was sure everything was the way he wanted did he offer her a pen. She signed it and handed it back.

  “Phillips is going to have a fit when he reads this,” she said.

  Liam smiled. “Yes, he will.”

  “I guess this is it, then,” she said. “And you’re off to London.”

  He put his suit jacket on and walked to the door. “Okay, then. You’re going to be all right.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  They both put their hands on the doorknob at the same time. Allison let go and stepped back. He turned to say good-bye, changed his mind, and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her long and hard and walked out the door.

  And he was gone. It took another hour for Allison to admit the truth. She felt abandoned. That didn’t make any sense to her, but then, having sex with Liam and pretending it hadn’t meant anything didn’t make any sense, either. Didn’t he know? Didn’t he have a glimmer of a notion that he was more than a casual fling to her? Apparently not.

  She really couldn’t blame him, because she had only just figured it out. Trying to be a with-it modern woman wasn’t working for her. She had no one to blame but herself. She should have known she wasn’t cut out for games. She didn’t have the nerves or the disposition to be coy or clever. No wonder she hid in her computer. It couldn’t hurt her.

  EIGHTEEN

  Eight weeks, three days, and not a word from Liam. Not that she cared, because she didn’t. Swamped with work and classes, she had barely thought about him. She accepted the fact that he had moved on, just as she had. She told herself that lie so many times she was almost beginning to believe it.

  Exams were finally over. She turned in the last paper she was ever going to write for persnickety Dr. Bracey’s class, and she was officially finished. Now that she thought about it, senior year hadn’t been all that difficult, just time-consuming.

  Her job, on the other hand, was making her crazy. She was getting sick and tired of being dragged out of her apartment by the FBI. There were always two agents—never one or three—banging at her door at the most inconvenient times. Every once in a while, if they were in a “let’s prank the employee” mood, one of them would dangle handcuffs in front of her face to get her to hurry. They thought it was funny, but their little stunt wasn’t humorous in Starbucks or the gym. Their ferocious expressions could scare the bejesus out of an ordinary person. The scare tactics were wasted on her. The agents were having fun, she supposed, and fun was hard to come by in their line of work, so she let them torment her.

  Her days at the cyber unit were intense. Because Phillips assigned her only the most complex cases, he kept her isolated in her own office. The other employees passing by looked through the glass wall and saw her working. When she glanced their way, they returned her smile, and when she passed them in the hall, they nodded and said hello, but there was no other interaction or camaraderie. She didn’t take time to form relationships with coworkers. They most likely assumed she was antisocial. To them she looked as though she had it all together because she had had years of practice perfecting her laid-back attitude. On the outside she appeared to be calm, cool, and in control, but on the inside she was a mess of nerves, and she was mentally counting the days until she would once again be free to pursue her own dreams.

  The FBI owned her now, and in the eight weeks she’d worked for them, they had managed to turn her life upside down. She was all theirs for six full months. On paper it didn’t look all that long, but on a day-to-day basis it was an eternity. Two months down, four to go.

  She hated that others controlled her every action, and on the days when the stress and tension threatened to overwhelm her, she would put on her Bose headphones, close her eyes for a few minutes, and think about something pleasant, like walking along a white sand beach or, better yet, punching her immediate supervisor, Special Agent Jim Phillips. She bet that would remove his perpetually smug expression. Allison didn’t consider herself a violent person. She had never hit anyone, not even her irresponsible cousin, Will, yet the thought of smacking her boss did lighten her mood.

  Agent Phillips seemed to know what buttons to push, and Allison came close to completely losing her composure one afternoon. He called her into his office for another one of his famous pep talks about the bureau. Then came the suggestions. The latest proposal was a doozy. He wanted her to wear a thin silver bracelet that had a built-in tracking device. She wouldn’t have to worry about losing it because, once it was snapped into place, it was impossible to remove. The man was actually enthusiastic about his outrageous plan, and it took every ounce of her willpower to sit quietly and listen. After gritting her teeth, she insisted for the hundredth time that he simply call her cell phone if and when he needed her after hours. He countered that there were times when she couldn’t be reached by phone, most likely suspecting she had turned it off. She had to admit there had been a few instances when she had silenced her phone just to have a couple hours of peace.

  As much as she hated the job, she loved the work, and how strange was that? The real irony was that she was making a good salary, and it was all hers. Her aunt and uncle couldn’t take it from her as they had with her previous earnings.

  She was a paid employee of the federal government—an employee who wasn’t allowed to quit—with official credentials and benefits up the wazoo. She had been told that the six-month job she’d agreed to would be only from eight to five Monday through Friday. There was a caveat attached, though: if there was ever an urgent situation, she would be required to come in after hours. Thus far, there had been an average of three urgent situations each workweek and one almost every weekend. Agents had pulled her out of bed in the middle of the night too many times to count, had ruined innumerable dinners, and had barged into half the movie theaters in the city looking for her. She became so skittish she even imagined they were trying to interrupt her graduation. She had been chosen to represent her department and had just stepped onto the stage to collect her diploma when she glanced at the crowd and spotted two men in suits hurrying down the aisle toward her. They looked determined. In the hope of avoiding a tug-of-war, she rushed across the stage, snatched the diploma out of the president’s hands, all but fist-bumped him in lieu of a handshake, and ran down the steps, just as the two men reached the front row, turned, and sat down next to their families.

  After the

ceremony, she was congratulated by Jordan and Noah, who promised to celebrate with her on Nathan’s Bay the following weekend. There was a big party scheduled. Allison had just said good-bye to them when Dan and his girlfriend made their way to her. Mark and his fiancée were also there. She had discouraged them from subjecting themselves to the never-ending proceedings, but they insisted on attending because they were her friends. She surmised they felt sorry for her because Charlotte and Oliver couldn’t come and she wouldn’t have family at her big event, but even if they came out of pity, she was happy to see all of them. It was while Dan was giving her a big bear hug that she looked up into the stands . . . and saw him . . . there, standing in the middle of a crowd of people who were slowly making their way to the exits. He was there only as long as a blink, and then he was gone.

  Had she really seen Liam, or was her imagination playing tricks on her? She’d been thinking about him almost every day. She couldn’t seem to stop. She had told herself again and again he wasn’t worth it, and yet the constant reminder didn’t seem to matter.

  Not a single phone call. He couldn’t take the time to pick up the phone and call her just to see how she was doing? With each passing day it had become abundantly clear she meant nothing to him. He had moved on without so much as a backward glance. Liam Scott, she decided, was insensitive and rude, and once again she reminded herself that she was happy to be rid of him.

  Her friends took her to dinner to celebrate her graduation. Then Dan drove her home. As soon as she locked the door behind her, she started thinking about Liam again. He really had forgotten about her, hadn’t he? He couldn’t even be bothered to send her a text or an e-mail. No, she definitely hadn’t seen him at graduation. He was in some far-off country, and the man she saw was simply a figment of her imagination. She went to sleep that night calling upon every happy image she could think of, anything to block images of him.

  The following week was grueling, and she was glad of it because she didn’t have time for thoughts of Liam. She didn’t get home before nine or ten every night. Friday finally came, and fortunately there weren’t any after-work emergencies. She arrived home at a decent time, packed her overnight bag, and drove to Jordan and Noah’s house. Her friends were taking her to Nathan’s Bay for the weekend to celebrate her graduation. She’d been there several times with Jordan. She loved her large family and the tiny island. It was magical. And isolated. A bridge arching over a narrow channel was the only way in and out, and the sprawling two-story house was the only one on the island. Judge Buchanan owned the island and constantly fought off eager developers who wanted a slice of paradise. Allison was happy he kept refusing.

  She was looking forward to seeing the Buchanans again. They were so kind to her, and time with them was always relaxed and fun. As she drove to Jordan’s house, she toyed with the idea of telling her about Liam but decided against it because she planned to erase him from her memory. As if that were possible. Damn it all, she wanted to move on. She hadn’t wanted to get involved with any man, because he would interfere with her plans for the future. What had happened to her?

  She was in quite a state by the time she parked the car and ran up the steps to the town house.

  Jordan opened the door. Allison’s greeting wasn’t what her friend had expected.

  “Men suck.”

  Too late, Allison saw Noah step out from behind the door. She hoped he hadn’t heard what she’d said . . . but of course he’d heard. He was trying not to laugh.

  “I’m a man,” he reminded her.

  How could she forget? Like with Liam, testosterone oozed from every pore in Noah’s body.

  “You’re the exception.”

  “What about them?” he asked with a tilt of his head. “Are they the exception, too?”

  Allison froze. “Them?”

  Jordan had to pull her out of the way so that Noah could get the door closed. Before she could ask who else was there, Jordan said, “You’re in an odd mood tonight. Is Agent Phillips making you nuts?”

  That was as good an excuse as any for her lame behavior, she supposed. “He’s certainly not making my life easier,” she replied.

  She walked into the living room, stopped to rave about the new furniture, then turned to go into the dining room, and there, leaning against the new table, was the bane of her existence, Liam “What-a-Hunk” Scott. He wasn’t alone. Alec stood on the other side of the table with a green trash bag in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other.

  It was almost impossible to stifle her reaction. Liam looked as though he’d been in a fight. There were a couple of bruises on his jaw and cheek and a cut above his right eyebrow. Were they from a rugby game? Or a fistfight? Maybe one of his assignments had turned violent. She told herself she didn’t care enough to find out.

  Did he have to look so good? He wore old worn-out jeans that hung low on his hips and a T-shirt that was molded to his chest and upper arms, outlining his muscles. The T-shirt had seen better days. There was a faint logo of a sports team on it, she thought, but she couldn’t make out what it was. Although Liam’s stance was relaxed, his gaze was intense and it locked on her.

  She broke the silence. “Hi,” she said, and before he could respond, she smiled at Alec and greeted him. She noticed his eyes kept bouncing back and forth between Liam and her. Great. Now he was suspicious and was going to ask questions.

  “Why are you holding a trash bag?” she asked, trying her best to ignore Liam.

  Jordan answered, “It’s your graduation present. I know how you love puzzles, so I got you a dozen. One has ten thousand pieces, and there’s even a 3-D one in there. Actually there are only eleven in the bag. I was telling the guys how amazing you are, and I don’t think they believed me.” She pointed to the table, which was covered in tiny jigsaw pieces. “All the pieces are faceup, so it shouldn’t take much time to put it together. It’s a thousand pieces, I think.”

  “I’m not going to show off for you,” Allison whispered.

  Jordan took pity. “Don’t worry. You can put it together when we get back Sunday. I just thought, knowing how puzzles are a great stress reliever for you, and given the circumstances . . .”

  Allison could have sworn she gave an almost imperceptible nod toward Liam. “Given what circumstances?” she asked.

  Jordan didn’t answer her. Noah had come up behind his wife and wrapped his arms around her waist. Allison envied how affectionate they were with each other. Their love was evident in every look, every action.

  “She really is amazing,” Noah said to Alec and Liam.

  Noah had firsthand knowledge. He had been at Nathan’s Bay when Jordan’s mother complained to her husband about a puzzle that was spread out on the dining table. According to Mrs. Buchanan, the judge had put it there over a month ago. Believing her husband would never finish it, she ordered that the puzzle be put back in the box. Then Allison happened to walk past. She stopped as soon as she saw the puzzle, stared at it a minute, and then began to put the pieces together at a dazzling speed. Noah stood in the doorway watching her and was soon joined by Jordan and her parents. He was certain Allison set some sort of record. Once she was finished, she sighed, turned around, and walked out into the sunroom, leaving her audience speechless.

  Alec set the bag on a chair. “You wrapped her gift in a trash bag?” he asked Jordan. “That’s kind of lazy, isn’t it?”

  Jordan laughed as she defended herself. “All the boxes are different sizes. How else do you wrap them?”

  The two began a silly debate about gift wrap, but Allison wasn’t paying attention. She had suddenly guessed why Liam and Alec were there. She took a step back and shook her head. “Oh no, you don’t.”

  Liam noticed how pale her face had become. “Oh no, what?”

  “What’s going on?” Alec asked.

  “You want me to do something else illegal for you, don’t you? Did A

gent Phillips send you? Does he know about this?”

  Jordan was outraged on her behalf. “You are not going to make her do anything more.”

  Alec put his hands up. “Hey, we’re on her side.”

  “Ha,” Allison scoffed.

  “What does ‘ha’ mean?” Liam wanted to know.

  She wouldn’t look at him when she said, “It means I’m not so sure you are on my side.”

  Liam decided Allison had ignored him long enough. She was obviously in a strange mood, and he couldn’t figure out why. He was contemplating grabbing her and asking her what the hell was wrong with her when she finally turned her attention to him. She walked over to him, poked him in the chest, and said, “I’ve been following the contract, and I’ve been more than compliant, Liam. Way more.”

  “Way more, huh?” Liam repeated, and dared to smile.

  “I’ve been trying to get along with the man. He wore me down, and I finally agreed to this.” She lifted her arm to show off her new bracelet. “But that’s it. I’m not doing anything more to keep him happy. I’m already working eighty-hour weeks. And I just found out he programmed his phone number in my cell phone. All I have to do is push the number one and he’ll answer. Why he thinks I would want to call him is beyond me,” she added. “I’m trying to get along, and Agent Phillips has absolutely nothing to complain about.”

  Jordan tried to calm her friend. “I think it’s sweet that Phillips gave you a graduation present. That’s a pretty bracelet.”

  “It’s a tracking device.”

  “A what?” Alec asked. “Did you say a tracking—”

  “Yes, I did. Liam, this isn’t funny, so stop laughing.”

  Alec had more discipline. He just smiled. “If you don’t like the bracelet, take it off,” he suggested. It sounded logical to him, and Noah’s nod indicated he agreed.