Page 34 of Tiger on the Prowl

He watched her face closely, drawing on everything he’d learned at the CIA to help him spot a lie should Olivia not answer him truthfully. “How many of the guests at the wedding do you know?”

“Hmm? Why, uh, what’s that got to do with anything?”

“Just answer the question.”

“Okay. Well, my parents and sister, and her husband, of course.”

“Who else?”

“The bridesmaids, though they’re really Grace’s friends, but I know them from a few girls’ nights out. Why?”

“How about the groom’s family? Brothers? Parents? Uncles?”

Olivia shook her head, her forehead furrowing, attesting to the fact that she had no idea why he was asking. “I’ve met them all for the first time today. And when I say met I mean we just exchanged greetings and a little small talk.”

“Do you know any other people who are attending the wedding? Any friends or colleagues? Particularly any white men in their fifties or sixties.”

“No, I already told you that I don’t know anybody. It’s all Timothy’s friends and family. And I’m certainly not interested in old white men.”

Jay studied her face. He detected no duplicity in her eyes or her manners. She was telling the truth.

“Thank you. I believe you.” He paused for a moment, before continuing, “I didn’t train in the military. I trained at the Farm.”

“The Farm?” she asked.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he allowed the news to sink in, so Olivia could draw her own conclusion.

“The CIA?”

He nodded.

“That’s why you’re disguised, and why you took Dirk down so easily. Your friend too. You’re both in the CIA.”

“We were,” Jay corrected her.

“You quit the CIA?”

Jay contemplated how much to tell her. He knew that Ace’s, Fox’s, and Yankee’s girlfriends knew every detail of what had happened to the former Stargate agents, but Olivia wasn’t his girlfriend. He couldn’t justify telling her secrets that weren’t his alone. He had to protect his fellow agents.

“That’s all I can tell you about what I did. I hope you can trust me when I tell you that it’s safer for you if you don’t know too much. I know that trusting me after I searched your home won’t come easy, but I hope you find it within yourself to… believe me just this once.”

He looked into her eyes, begging her to understand him.

“You want me to trust you? I can do that. But only if you can explain to me what you were looking for in my office.” She tipped her chin up. “I’m assuming now that it wasn’t my manuscript.”

He shook his head. “No, I really had no idea that you were a famous sci-fi writer. I wasn’t there to look for your manuscript. I was looking for evidence that you are connected to a man I’m looking for.”

“What man?”

“A white man in his late fifties or early sixties, who goes by the name of Smith, though it’s in all likelihood only an alias.”

Olivia blinked, catching on quickly. “That’s why you asked me whether I knew any of the wedding guests. But why would you even think that I know him?”

“I saw him in your cottage.” He took off his glasses, put them on the desk, and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“When? I haven’t had any older men visiting me there. Only my dad, and he’s Japanese, not white, and you know that.”

“I had a premonition about him entering your cottage. At first, I didn’t know that it was your place, but during the vision I saw a photo, and I recognized you from the yoga class. It’s the only lead I had on Smith. I needed to follow it, so I had to find out if you knew who he was. But I couldn’t just ask you. I had no idea if you were related, or friends, or colleagues, or anything else. So I had to… to get close to you.”

Her chin dropped, and for a moment, he had no idea how she would react. “You slept with me just to—”

“No!” he interrupted immediately. “I slept with you because I wanted you from the first moment you set foot in my class.”

“If that were true, you would have asked me out much earlier, and not waited until you thought I could lead you to this man, to Smith.”

He ran a hand through his fake hair. “Damn it, I didn’t ask you out because I’m ten years older than you, and I have no right to drag a woman I care about into my fucked-up life.”

“Goddamn it, Jay! I don’t know what to believe anymore.” She glared at him.

“Believe this,” he said and pulled her into his arms. He captured her lips, before she could protest, and kissed her. For a second, Olivia was stiff in his arms, but then she responded—not by pushing him back like he’d assumed, but by wrapping her arms around him and kissing him back.

He’d missed her, missed feeling her body pressed to his, her lips on his. As much as he wanted to strip her of her dress and bury his aching cock in her, his conscience reared its head, and he severed the kiss. He had to stop himself before he did something irresponsible.