Chapter Two
Jo
I didn’t like lying, but I could do it with a straight poker face if I had to. Some lies were necessary; they protected or removed obstacles in a way the truth never could.
My first alias had been born at twelve, the year my father was shot during a field test for one of his government contracts and we’d needed to get out of the country fast. He wasn’t a soldier.
His battlefield was a lab. But his inventions often ended up where danger lived.
At the time, he was perfecting a fabric that could stop bullets for a fraction of the cost of military gear.
Moving around meant no formal education for me, but my father called me genetically predisposed to excel.
That was his way of saying my above-average IQ would not be hindered by our nomadic lifestyle.
How would I have done in a regular classroom?
I’ll never know. Online college courses bored me, but his work? I was hooked.
We moved often, always chasing or fleeing danger I wasn’t old enough to understand.
Dad said it was because innovation thrived on change, but I knew better.
Every new contract meant new materials, new opportunities, and new risks.
He worked for governments, corporations, anyone with the right resources.
But the real project, the one that could change everything, was always his own.
There were times when even he hit ceilings in his designs where his dream outpaced his abilities.
That’s where I stepped in. Pretending to be a professor from a foreign university, I contacted global experts online.
At first I was terrified they’d sniff out the teenage imposter, but they hadn’t.
They listened. We open-source collaborated on my father’s work as well as theirs.
My confidence bloomed. I made a code name and kept reaching out to the best minds in every industry, and over the years my little experiment grew into a hidden network: scientists scattered across the world, anonymous, collaborating, problem-solving, sharing ideas without names or credit. A think tank in the shadows.
With their help, Dad eventually finished his bulletproof fabric and licensed it through one of his defense contracts for a modest sum.
Enough to buy a house in Connecticut. After that, the network only grew, tackling everything from cheaper water purification for third-world countries to better shields for the International Space Station. No glory. No money. Just solutions.
So no, lying wasn’t always bad. Sometimes it was survival. Sometimes it was the only way forward.
That philosophy steadied me now as I looked Nate Keaton straight in the eye and gave him a name that wasn’t mine. “Jo Arlington.”
His smile was confident, smooth, sexy as hell. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“Not at all,” I said, though I hated the way my lips betrayed me with an answering curl.
My heart was racing. But not from fear of who he might be, or the fact that he had just slashed my already fragile timeline for finishing the new fuel cell for StealthOff.
Both of those should have mattered more.
Instead, my traitorous brain was cataloging the distribution of melanin in his irises, the way green and blue threaded through the brown, scattering light into something almost artistic.
I knew it was just optics. Perception was mostly the brain’s illusion. But that knowledge didn’t make them any less striking.
I tried to dismiss the attraction. Biology explained everything.
People had evolved to respond to symmetry and pheromones.
Add the fact that I was probably at the hormonal point in my cycle where men like him—fit, confident, broad-shouldered—looked like prime candidates for ensuring the survival of the species, and it made sense. Entirely rational.
Still. It had been a long time since a man had gotten past my defenses. Hell, had it ever happened?
I realized I was standing there smiling at him, like an idiot, and gave myself an inner shake. Stop. This is not the time to think about how long it’s been since you’ve had sex. Tim had been a year ago. No, two. God, no wonder my brain was scrambled.
But I had to stay sharp. Nate’s presence alone threatened everything I’d worked for. If he looked too closely, if he asked the wrong questions, he could unravel me.
No one could find out who I was. Not yet. Not until I finished this.
Dad used to say that the truth was a luxury for people who didn’t invent the future. I didn’t fully understand him then, but I do now.
I would clear his name. That was what mattered. Not this man, not the heat curling through me when his gaze dipped to my mouth.
Think, Jo. His uncle left him the ranch, and he wants to sell it. How do I use that? How do I buy myself more time?
The problem: most of my life had been spent online, in a lab, or in motion.
Training with Dad’s relentless idea that a strong mind needed a strong body.
Boot camp, martial arts, survival drills.
I could spar with anyone. But flirt? Flirting was foreign territory.
Still, if batting my lashes bought me another week, I’d give it a shot.
“Silas and I had an agreement.”
“Did you?” He didn’t look convinced.
“He knew my father.” Not a lie. “And when he heard I was going through a period of transition, he offered me a place to stay.”
“In exchange for?”
“Nothing beyond helping out a bit here and there.” I hated the tears that blurred my vision. “Silas was incredibly generous to everyone.”
Nate’s expression hardened. “How long have you been here?”
“A few months.”
“You were here when he got the news.”
I swallowed hard. “Yes, both Frank and I were. That was a difficult time for everyone.”
“So, were you the ones who decided to not inform any of us of his death or invite us to the funeral?”
“Silas was clear about his wishes. You’re welcome to read them. They’re all written out and kept with his papers here. In the weeks that followed his diagnosis, he had time to think about what he wanted.”
“And that wasn’t for his family to know?”
My temper rose. “It was to be surrounded by people who cared about him.”
Nate blanched. Yep, that one stung. But it was the truth.
“I don’t have to explain my relationship or lack of one to you,” Nate growled.
I shrugged. “I didn’t ask you to. In fact, I’d prefer if you don’t. I’m simply explaining why we didn’t notify you.”
Nate took a moment before saying, “I would have come if I’d known he was ill.”
I could have said there was no evidence supporting that but instead decided to take a kinder approach. For Silas. “Perhaps Silas wanted you to remember him as he was when you knew him.”
Nate sighed. “I barely remember him.”
Now, that I believed. “He spoke of you often. All good things. He cared about you.”
Suddenly Nate looked uncomfortable. “I find that difficult to believe since there’s been no contact between us since I was a child.”
Part of me wanted out of this conversation. I had my own problems as well as plans that had nothing to do with helping this man through his guilt over not caring about someone who’d obviously cared about him.
I did, however, need Nate to like me enough to let me stay until I could relocate my equipment and to trust me enough to leave me on my own long enough to let me do it secretly.
“Maybe it wasn’t his choice to have no contact with you.”
Nate’s eyes narrowed. “Enough about me. Tell me about this ‘transitional period’ you’re going through.”
Nope, not going there. “Just . . . you know . . . between jobs and trying to figure out what I want to do next.”
He looked me over and I honestly couldn’t tell if he believed me or not.
I wanted to be offended, but my body warmed beneath his gaze.
Sure, he was tall with wide shoulders, a strong jaw, and piercing eyes.
In his suit and wool jacket, he looked classically Boston business and normally that wouldn’t have been my type, but there was no denying that he was a gorgeous man in his prime.
And I’d been on a diet of celibacy with a side of no action for a long time.
All of this would have been easier if Nate were less intelligent, confident, skeptical. Even as I admired how easily he’d taken control of the situation, I resented the difficulty that added to it. If he was staying, it wouldn’t be easy to move my stuff out. And with him here I couldn’t stay.
Could I?
My breath fogged in the cold. “After you check with Frank about who I am, hopefully you’ll feel better about me watching the place until he returns and forgive me for the whole gun thing.” I fluttered my eyelashes. The move felt ridiculous, but I didn’t have a lot of options.
“Possibly,” he said, voice low, watching me far too closely. “But I hope you’ll understand if I don’t immediately return it to you.”
Mostly due to the tension, I joked, “If I have one, what makes you think I don’t have ten?”
He didn’t laugh.
I decided to attempt sexy again. “Just kidding.” I attempted a purr that came out more like a cough. Smooth? No.
His gaze had dropped to my thermal shirt, where my jacket had parted. I was fully covered, but that didn’t stop his look from lingering.
Maybe this would be easier than I thought.
I let my hand drift across my collarbone, casual but deliberate, the motion tugging my shirt just enough to show a flash of skin before the fabric settled. His cheeks flushed. Barely, but I saw it.
Damn, maybe I do have some game.
“If you don’t have any further questions, I should get back to work,” I murmured. “I was hoping to get this running again today. Silas had simple taste in cars.”
His attention slid past me to the vehicle. “My uncle drove that? I guess he really wasn’t good with money.”
Irritation flicked through me. “That depends on what you consider good. He helped a lot of people.”
His eyes snapped back to mine, darkening. I’d struck a nerve. His nostril flaring, he was holding back his thoughts, and I was failing to win him over.
What did normal women do in this situation?
Bat their lashes again?
And why the hell am I blushing? I’m not a teenager. Not some innocent.
I’ve had relationships. One was a handyman. Fantastic in bed, equally enthusiastic to share his skills with others. My second was a physicist. Faithful, logical, incapable of bringing me to climax.
Neither of them had ever sent fire licking through my veins the way this man was doing and he wasn’t even trying. What would Nate be like in bed?
Forceful?
Playful?
I bet he prides himself on being good.
My gaze wandered over him for long enough that when my eyes returned to meet his, we were both aware that something was there.
Nothing I’d act on. But something.
God, he’s beautiful.
Focus.
I forced out, “It’ll be dark soon. You should go check out the main house.”
He took a deep breath, eyes dilating. “I should.”
“Frank left the kitchen stocked.” My voice had gone husky even as I scrambled for control. “And there are a few made-up bedrooms to choose from. You should have everything you need.”
He leaned closer. His breath plumed in the cold, ghosting over my lips. “Who are you, Jo?” His mouth hovered a whisper from mine.
My tongue flicked across my bottom lip. “I’ve already told you.”
“You have.” His voice dropped lower. “But something tells me getting to know more about you won’t be a waste of time.”