Anyone Here (2 page)

It was difficult to see her face through the nose-grazing length of black lace falling from her hat. Or what might pass for a hat if it was larger than three square inches in size. It sat atop a mass of dark red curls as if somehow holding all her coiffure from falling to her butt. Or maybe that mane was even thigh-length. She wasn’t looking at him. She was swirling the long pointed end of a slender umbrella in his pool, twirling little whirlpools into existence.

Jake sloshed his free hand over his face again, swiping water away, before narrowing his eyes. It didn’t work. There was still a woman standing there, dressed in something more fitted to a Halloween party. He’d rank it steam-punk only it put everything he’d ever seen to shame. And she didn’t disappear.

She turned her head and sent a glance at him. A rush of flame roared through his chest, ratcheting his heartbeat higher than his swim had.
Whoa Jacob
. She had intense cobalt blue eyes. Even through the black lace curtain falling from her hat, nobody could miss that color, or those eyes. And from what he could see, she was jaw-dropping gorgeous. Sinfully so. More so than the cadre of swimsuit models his friends had assembled for his party in Cabo San Lucas last month…the same party that had bored him within three days. And then disgusted. All parties anymore seemed to have the same trouble. Maybe he was getting old.

Nah. Twenty-eight isn’t old, Jake. It’s just right.
He had the world at his feet. Women were available twenty-four-seven. Clothing optional. He was just sated. Jaded. Bored. That’s why he’d gone on an abstinence diet from feminine companionship for at least a month. And then look at what happens? A babe dressed as a late Victorian-era vamp just appears. And as he’d instantly noted, she was more gorgeous than any swimsuit model. Shapelier, too. A lot shapelier. Her bosom warranted more than a glance. It looked real, too, as if no plastic surgeon was allowed to even touch, let alone tamper. Of course, that could be due to the burgundy satin bustier strapped about her without a centimeter to spare, or the effect of such a large bosom atop the tiniest waist he’d ever seen.

Double whoa
.

Jackpot! Gorgeous. Womanly. Spectacular.

The impression didn’t fade as he took in the wrist-length black lace gloves with the ruffled edges, the dark mark of a tattoo just above one glove edge, a jagged-edged dark-violet mini-skirt fashioned in some brocade-type fabric. And then he factored in her legs. Stunning. The chick was stunning. Legs like that didn’t need the added enhancement of thigh-high black crocheted stockings, nor the ankle-high button-edged boots. That was just overkill. All-in-all, it was hard to tell which part made her the most beautiful thing in this part of the world. It was hard to decide. Hell. It was even hard to breathe. She might as well have shoved the point of her umbrella through him. Jake gulped and stuffed the reaction down.

“Who…are you?” His voice was ragged. Choked.
Shit
.

“A complication you’re about to deal with.”

“Oh. I’m game, Baby. Complicate away.”

The motion with her umbrella stopped. Her eyes narrowed though the blue stood out even then, still striking.

 “Oh. Bother. I’d heard you were a player. I forgot the word has more than one connotation.”

She had a killer British accent
.
Everyone on security detail tonight was getting a bonus. Hell. Double bonus. “Who’d tell you such a thing?” he asked.

“Your dossier.”

He had a dossier. As if this was a movie set for an espionage film. Jake grinned and launched onto his butt on the edge of the pool. Settled. Silently gave kudos again for having the foresight to put in-floor heating in all his rooms. Even here. And then he looked back up and over at her.

“If my dossier says I’m anything less than completely yours, Babe, then it’s an out-right lie.”

The umbrella rose from the water, putting little drips onto the surface. She didn’t appear to notice.

“I suppose you think you’re being charming,” she told him.

“No suppose about it, hon. I
am
charming. And you’re gorgeous. You got a name?”

“Cassandra.”

Man
. What a perfect name. Said in an ear-pleasing voice as hot as any Southern hemisphere beach sand. With that accent. It was going to haunt him. She’d tipped her chin to sound out her name, putting emphasis on all three syllables, just in case he couldn’t get it. That was pulse-stirring. Or maybe that came from the perfect enunciation she gave it. Her accent really was to die for.

“Cassie? Hmm. Great name. Totally fits.”

“Cassandra.”

She corrected him. He ignored it. After all, it was his house.

“You know, Cassie…I’m going out on a limb here but I rather like puzzles, and you’re definitely presenting one. You’re from England. Am I right?”

“Maybe.”

“No maybe about it, Babe. I’ve got a great ear for voices and accents. You’re definitely British. That accent is a dead giveaway.”

“I could be Australian.”

“No way. You speak the words with perfect accuracy. Aussies like to slur. I’ll take my guess a little deeper. I’m going to say…London. Born and bred. I’d say James Street, but it’s hidden behind an East end accent you’ve worked hard at. How am I doing?”

Her eyes weren’t narrowed anymore. He wouldn’t put it quite at wide-eyed, but her gaze had way too much impact through that little lace veil. He should probably find a towel. Or a robe. Or get back in the pool. Or…just pass all the bullshit jargon, and get naked.

With her.

That thought lifted more than goose-bumps. Pleasantly. Rapidly. He hiked a knee to keep it to himself for the moment.

“I’ve been known to frequent the area.”

She finally answered him as if he’d been wrong. Jake lifted one side of his mouth in the half-smile he was noted for. Most girls said it was his best feature. That was before they saw the entire package, of course.

“Right.”

Her frame lifted in a little sigh. “Oh, very well. I frequent the streets. The clubs. Sometimes the alleyways. The Underground. It’s good hunting ground.”

Wow.
Did that mean what it sounded like? And just how did he get this lucky?

 “Hunting.” He didn’t ask it. It wasn’t a question.

“Oh yes…hunting.”

Grant me stamina. Please.

“Just keep talking, Cassie. Anything. Say anything. Anything at all.”

“Why?”

“That accent. The view.” He whistled lightly. “I have to tell you Sweetheart, your hunt is over. For tonight anyway. And I mean over.”

“You really are cocky.”

She didn’t know the half of it.
Jake snickered.
 
“Your dossier missed that part? I suppose it missed the hefty bank account and genius IQ, too.”

“Oh no. Of specific note is a massive ego and just as massive bank account. There was a highlighted section about your intellect. And there was even a bit in there about your affectation to swimming timed laps. In heated pools.”

“I was a state champion swimmer, Love. Good thing. I’m lazy, otherwise. In case you missed it, swimming’s great for creating six-pack abs and then keeping them ripped. You ladies seem to appreciate that, and since I appreciate you ladies, it’s a double win.”

“Do you say anything that isn’t a come-hither?”

He ignored her jibe. He’d taken on tougher chicks than this one. It was a challenge and he loved those. It made their cries of pleasure when they melted even sweeter. He cleared his throat. “Swimming doesn’t do a thing for upper body size, though. I have to spend time working weights for that.”

“Hmm. The file did say a bit about a weight room. Track. Sauna. Spa. Jacuzzi. A fully-equipped regulation gymnasium.”

“You want to see it?”

“I’d rather see your gaming chamber.”

“Whoa. And here I thought you didn’t like come-hither remarks.”

“You really can be rather annoying.”

“I’d rather peg it persistent.”

She pursed her lips. As if expecting a kiss. And that just kicked his heart rate a bit faster. She had perfect lips, too. Kissable. That was basically all he could see of her face. It was enough. It didn’t matter what the rest of her looked like. That was odd, but in a good way. He was getting a bit of mystery with the snappy put-downs she kept spouting; each one demanding retribution. They were delivered with perfect precision with that throaty, warm, accented voice. He was enjoying every moment of this. It was intriguing. Absorbing. Captivating. Maybe too many other women were just too blatantly available, taking all the fun out of it.

“I refer to your game playing chamber,” she informed him.

“Me too. I’ve got an extra-outsized king bed, too. Special ordered. Perfect for playing the oldest and best game in the world, Love.”

“If I called you annoying, I was mistaken. Obnoxious is more appropriate.”

“Thank you. I do try.”

“You’re trying to be obnoxious?”

“Not really…but if it works, I’m all for it.”

“Works at what?”

“Interesting you.”

That stopped her for a moment. Her chin actually lifted, giving him a slight glance at perfect cheeks, and a flash from those blue eyes. And then she tipped her head fully back and laughed. Sweetly. Unashamedly. Perfectly. Dragging his mouth into an answering grin. Damn! There wasn’t anything about her that didn’t pull at him. She was absolute perfection. She brought her head back down and sniffed slightly as if she’d laughed so hard it brought tears.

She must not laugh often, or hadn’t expected it, because her mouth altered. She wasn’t smiling. Her lips were in a thin line as if deep in thought. That sort of look wasn’t remotely in the cards for tonight. And he just had to change it. So he started talking since she just stood there, silently regarding him, as if any levity was his fault.

“Does that mean…it’s not working?” he asked.

“My interest in you is a given, Jacob. I mean…look about. I’m still here, aren’t I?”

She gestured with the umbrella to the room at large before putting the tip into a tile joint for stability. Then she added to that stance by clasping the handle with both lace-covered hands in front of her. At her waist. That pose looked a lot like a poster for a French Revue. It gave him another shot of pure male awareness where the sharkskin briefs were too tight. It also gave him some measure of her height. Or lack of height.

“You can call me Jake,” he offered.

“Maybe later, Jacob. After we’ve discussed our business.”

“We have business? You’re joking. Tell me it’s a sham and this is some sort of set-up the guys arranged. Please?”

“I have business to conduct, Jacob. That’s why I’m here. I’m not so sure about you.”

“Truly? I’ve lost my touch.”

He heard a sigh.

“You’re very entertaining, Jacob. Truly. But I’ve got business to finalize. Before seeking anything like pleasure.”

Holy crap
. His spine even felt the fiery sensation from that last word. It made his response tremble before he caught it. “Well…get on with it, then.”

“You enjoy gaming?”

He sucked in his cheeks while he regarded her. “Didn’t we already cover this? My game playing chamber is presently off-limits…unless you mix business and pleasure. And I have to tell you. I’m on if you are.”

He got a slight shadow of a smile for that quip.

“Let’s keep it simple, shall we? Brief. And if we cease the double-entendres, the pleasure portion will come all the sooner.”

“All right. Shoot. What do you want to know?”

“When I spoke earlier of gaming, I meant the video gaming craze, and your immersion in it. Your dossier is full of references I didn’t care enough to read, nor wish to take the time to understand.”

“Sounds like great reading. I have got to see this file. But it’s more than a craze, Sweetheart. It’s the closest thing to adrenalin-kicking reality this side of warfare. You insult with few words. Craze, my ass. Video gaming is the future, and I’m neck deep in it. I create and market video games. It’s a dream job and grants me a dream life. It’s what I do for a living, and as you already noted, I make a great living. The ladies seem to like that part, too.”

“Tell me about it.”

“What the ladies like? Or how much they like it?”

“That is not what I asked. Nor is it brief, although it is simple.”

“I’m working with you on this, Sweet. Trust me. You’ve got the carrot firmly attached to the stick, and this fellow is totally focused on it. What part of the video gaming industry do you want to know about?”

“The games. I’m especially interested in the one named
Bellus.
Or, to be more specific, the part of the game that you named
Daemon Bellus
.”

Act stupid, Jake.
He knew her game now. But she was the best damn spy his competitors had ever used. “
Bellus
, huh? Not sure I recollect that one exactly.”

“Must you lie? Now?”

“I’ve got a lot of projects, Love. My calendar is full of them. A lot of ongoing ones, as well as a few upgrades. Describe it.”

“
Bellus
is the best-selling game in the country, making you millions by the hour…and you expect me to believe you can’t recollect it?”

“I don’t track money. I have accountants for that. I made my first million while still in high school with my VIDWAR game. Why do you think I left MIT? Couldn’t make the grades?”

“I didn’t ask. I don’t care. And you’re not helping. I need to know about the thing called
Daemon Bellus.
There’s a character called Dane in it. You recollect it? Dane is a vampire player – who morphs into a Viking – and then becomes a berserker. I’m very interested in that particular aspect.”

“It’s called an avatar, not a character. And
Daemon Bellus
isn’t a thing, it’s a mode.”

“So…you do recollect it?”

Shit.

“And now you’ll tell me about it, and our business will be conducted, and we can move on to other things. Yes?”

“Look, Cassandra.” He stressed all three syllables on her name. It just felt right. It was impossible to tell a layman about designing a video game. You either spoke the lingo, or you didn’t.