Gino stared down into Zara’s upturned face. She was so beautiful it made his soul ache. That face. Skin so soft. Her bone structure. Her mouth so sinful every time he looked at it his cock got harder than a rock. Those eyes of hers. Pure slate blue. Unusual. Large. Framed with long lashes. All that hair. Red gold. Like silk, but so thick when it was spread around their pillows, it covered them. That was a fantasy in itself.
He could admit to having something seriously wrong with him. He came back higher than a kite, needing sex. Ciro had probably perpetuated that, telling him after every time they interrogated someone and then killed them that the best way to get over taking someone apart was to spend the night indulging one’s body so you knew what life was all about. It made sense when he was a kid and now he was certain he’d been programed, but it was different with Zara. With Zara, his need of her was real.
He pushed all that spun red gold from her forehead. He had her sprawled out on his bed, looking more beautiful than anything or anyone he’d ever seen in his lifetime. She looked the picture of innocence, and he was coming to her with blood on his hands. He swore his hands were shaking as he traced a finger from her throat to the curve of her breast.
“I swear, woman, I detest being away from you, even for a minute. I’m not sure what you’ve done to me, but whatever it is, there’s no going back from it.” His hand cupped her breast, thumb sliding over her nipple, all the while watching her eyes.
He loved the look she got when he moved in her. When his hands claimed her body. When she gave herself up to the beauty of what they were together.
“I don’t like being away from you either, Gino,” she admitted, arching into his hand.
The rain had started outside, falling on the roof and beating on the windows, the rhythm adding another dimension to his fantasy. The room was dark, but he could see easily and there was no way he was going to miss out on one detail of her face and body, not one small expression in her eyes.
“See how still you can stay for me.” He whispered it, staring into her eyes, his hands filled with her soft breasts, fingers and thumb tugging and rolling her nipples.
She tried for him, because she liked pleasing him. He worked her body, using his mouth, tongue and teeth, his hands, gentle to rough and switching back. Watching her the entire time. Her breath came in ragged pants, providing a counterpoint to the rain’s driving rhythm, but she stayed relatively still for him. Because he asked. Her hips bucked and her body writhed, but she held it under control, doing her best, those eyes never leaving his.
He lavished attention on her breasts, taking his time, leaving his mark, wanting to write his name there. He’d never felt like doing such a foolish, childish thing in his life, declaring ownership, wanting the world to know she was his, but there was something about her that, right from the first moment he’d read about her, had made him feel a bit primitive.
He lifted his head just a little as he slid lower. “Going to be a long night, baby. You ready for me?” He was asking if he could be who he was. Take her the way he needed to. Make sure she enjoyed every second of it. “Wet and hot? Just for me?”
“I’m always ready for you, Gino.”
Her voice was a whisper but it slid over his skin like a sensual sin. He took his time, kissing his way over every square inch of the front of her. He used his tongue to taste her everywhere, his teeth to leave his mark, and his lips to suckle, bringing up faint strawberries here and there. Her breathing became frantic, her breasts swaying with every frantic inhale and rushed exhale.
He murmured to her, his mouth against her exquisite skin, telling her who she belonged to, letting her know he wasn’t ever letting her go, that she was the woman he wanted to wake up to every morning and hold every night. He told her a million things, most that couldn’t be deciphered between his mouth against her body and her breath hitching, exploding, rushing, moving through her so feverishly because she was desperately trying to keep still under his assault. For him. Always for him. He asked, and it mattered to her. God, he loved her.
“I can’t stay still,” Zara said. “I’m trying, Gino, but it’s impossible.”
He knew it would be, but he was pleased she tried. He spent a few minutes between her legs, devouring that addicting cream that belonged solely to him before kissing his way down her thighs to her ankles. He caught her ankles and twisted, flipping her over so he could claim every inch of her body.
“Your skin is the softest thing I’ve ever felt in my life,” he admitted and then found the lobe of her ear with his teeth.
Zara said something, but it was muffled by the sheets. Her hips bucked again, almost as though she might dislodge him, but he clamped his leg over her thigh and held her down for his slow, exploration. He moved the long thick length of her hair, admiring the way the silky strands spread across the pillow in luxurious golden waves.
His mouth found the nape of her neck. She was particularly sensitive there and he spent a little time kissing and licking, nipping gently with his teeth, watching the slow burn spread through her body, her movements and little cries feeding his own fire. His cock was hard and thick as he dragged it down her spine, leaving a trail of wet. His mouth followed, kissing and nipping, finding every sensitive spot, until he made his way to her buttocks.
“I like the way you look a whole hell of a lot.” He nipped her, right in the middle of a small dimple.
She yelped, laughed and pushed back against him, her breath hitching. “You do?”
“Mmm.” He used his tongue, more exploring, widening her legs to give him access to what he wanted most. She tasted like heaven. He yanked her up onto her knees, at the same time pressing her head down so she went obediently to her elbows. “Like the way you look just like this, princess.” He stroked her breasts, tugged on her nipples and then pressed his mouth to all that slick honey.
She cried out, pushed back against him, and he found his body on fire. No longer a slow burn consuming him, but a raging inferno. He licked at her one last time, pushed his finger deep while he stroked, flicked and circled her clit, wanting to ensure she was ready for him. Her cream coated his finger and he licked it clean, kneeling up behind her.
“Gino.” She wailed his name. “Hurry up.”
“Right here, princess. You giving me a royal order?” He loved her needy like this. Her body writhing. That little sob in her voice. His beautiful woman with that little hint of desperation drove him crazy.
“Yes,” she hissed.
He pressed the head of his cock into her burning entrance. Scorching heat surrounded him, her body clamping around his like a vise, determined to pull him deep or keep him out. He was never certain with that first entry. His breath rushed out of his lungs in a long, slow exhale of pure pleasure or pain, he couldn’t decide which, as he pressed deeper. Watching as her body was forced by his steady pressure to accept the invasion of his added to his pleasure. He could watch himself fuck her all night. Fast. Slow. Hard. Rough. Gently. Easy. It didn’t matter as long as he was in her and watching her take his cock any damn way he wanted.
“Move.”
The sob in her voice added to that mounting lust. “I am moving.” He inched forward, forcing those tight muscles to accept him. Each increment was sheer bliss. Fire lashed his thighs, burned through his gut. The flames surrounding him threatened to burn right through his flesh, but it felt so damn good he didn’t care.
He rubbed her left cheek, hoping her body would ease up just a little. She was so tight he wasn’t sure he could fit, but it was always that way. Every time he entered her, there was this moment, the one he usually retreated and started again, letting her get used to his invasion. Not this time. This time, he was going to bury himself to the hilt, as deep as possible, all in one long assault.
“Gino.”
His name again. He loved the need in her voice. That little hungry plea that told him she wanted him just like this. He took his time, savoring every inch he got inside of her. It wasn’t just a victory or a claiming; after the first three inches it was just plain paradise. He broke out in a sweat, holding back, feeling the boiling in his balls, the way his thighs hardened and every drop of blood rushed to his cock. All the while he watched as her body swallowed his, and it was better than any porn show he’d ever seen. Fantasies ran through his head, and he knew he would try every one with her. She was his woman and she liked to give him everything.
He used his thumb on her clit, stroking until her body coated her sheath in fresh liquid fire so he slid the last few inches all the way. His hands went to her hips. Finally, she was healed enough that he could hold her there, grip hard. He was going to need hard and she was as well. He withdrew. Her breath hitched. He heard his heartbeat. There was a roaring in his ears, like the sound of thunder.
He surged into her, dragging her hips back hard into his. Lightning streaked right through his cock and up his spine. “Fuck, woman.” He didn’t know what else to say. There was nothing else, she’d turned his brain to mush. All he could do was feel, not articulate.
He began to move in her, hard and fast, letting the sensation take him, giving himself up to it, riding that edge for as long as he could. Each time he was so close he thought he’d never pull back, he managed, even when he took her there repeatedly. Each time that she came, her body clamping down on his, that soft little sobbing of his name, drove his cock to a new level of hardness.
Gino lost himself in her body, in that incredible feeling, lost track of time and was unaware of his surroundings. He felt power gathering, heating, boiling until he was at the point of no return. His fingers dug deeply into her hips. He clenched his teeth and held on until she was there again, until he felt her coiling tight, so ready for release, so ready to soar with him.
In the end, it was more than soaring. He was flung into the universe, pinpoints of light glittering behind his eyes as his cock filled the condom with long hard spurts while lightning rocketed through him. It seemed to go on forever, that euphoria he didn’t want to come down from. His lungs were raw from lack of air and his body wanted to collapse. He circled her waist with his arms and hung on to her while they both fought for air.
When he could, Gino lifted his head. “You all right?”
“I think so,” she admitted. “But I’m not sure.”
He laughed softly. “Damn, woman. When I said you might kill me, I wasn’t kidding. I’m going to ease you down.” He slipped out of her, removed the condom, knotted it and tossed it aside so he could help her to the mattress.
She rolled over onto her side and looked up at him, her long lashes framing her slate blue eyes. “I’m not sure I can breathe.”
“Then I’d better help you.”
He took her mouth instantly, kissing her the way he wanted, the way he knew he was going to be kissing her as long as they both lived. Hot. Hard. Possessive. Demanding. She kissed him back, her mouth so soft, so perfect, he knew he’d never want any other woman’s kiss. Her taste was so addictive, it was difficult to stop once he started. He spent time kissing her. Slowly. Burning for her all over again. Knowing it was always going to be like that.
If he’d thought about how he would be so obsessive over her before he met her, he would have been appalled at the idea of being so wrapped up in a woman. Having been with her, he could only count himself damn lucky that he’d found the right one.
A little giggle escaped her when he lifted his head. The sound pierced his heart just like an arrow. She made him happy when he’d all but forgotten what happiness was.
“I’m not sure that’s helping me breathe, Gino,” she said.
He surveyed her body. She was a fast healer and the marks of the whips were all but faded. His marks, ones of love and possession, had taken their places. He bent his head and kissed one that ran along the upper curve of her left breast. He liked to see them there. He liked that Zhu’s marks were mostly gone.
“I’m so in love with you, woman.” The declaration came out of nowhere. He knew it was true, but he hadn’t meant to tell her. He smoothed back the silky hair tumbling around her face. “It’s impossible not to fall for you, you know that, don’t you?”
Her eyes searched his for the longest time, and then her smile came. It was slow and beautiful and it shook him to his core. Something about the way she smiled made his heart shaky, so much so that it actually hurt. He pressed his hand over his chest to try to ease that ache.
“I didn’t know that, no, but I do know I feel that way about you. You’re this incredible man, so amazing, treating me like the princess you call me, and I can’t help but love you. So much, Gino. You’re the first person I think about when I open my eyes in the morning and the last one I think about before I fall asleep. I know it sounds so silly, but just in the few weeks we’ve known each other, I think I’ve become obsessed with you. I think about you all the time.” She gave him that little smile of hers, the one that always made him want to kiss her. “All those fantasies I have would make you blush.”
“No, baby, they’d make you blush. I’d be happy to carry them out for you.” He kissed her again because every time he kissed her, she got a look on her face. Dazed. Beautiful. Her lips a little swollen, her eyes dark with desire. When he lifted his head, he caught her hand and brought it to his cock. Already, he was stirring. That was the power of what her kisses could do. He watched her closely for signs she wanted to stop. There were none. Her gaze jumped to his face a little awed. He liked that look a lot.
“Already?”
“Your fault, baby. You’re lying there all laid out in front of me like an invitation to a feast. My body can’t resist yours.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Gotta admit, I did work damned hard. Tired myself out.”
Her eyes lit up. “Did you? I guess you did, poor man. I suppose you’re deserving of a rest, although now that you’ve mentioned the possibilities, I’m kind of hungry.”
She rolled over, giving him a good view of her very fine ass. He was partial to that part of her anatomy. Who was he kidding? He was partial to every part of her anatomy. He sat up, his back to the headboard and watched to see what she would do.
She crawled up the bed to him, looking so sexy it took control to keep from flipping her over and taking her again. As it was, his cock grew. His fist curled around the long, thick length. Her gaze dropped to the sight and just the way she looked had his lungs feeling raw, burning for air. She licked her lips, and his cock jerked in his hand.
Her fingers curled around his with one hand while the other slid under his heavy sac to roll and caress his balls. He let go, his eyes on her. Unblinking because he didn’t want to miss one second. The sight of her as she lay down and stretched along the bed was almost too much. Her touch was an added bonus at that point.
She circled his shaft at the base with one fist and her tongue did a lazy slide up the heavy vein. The tip of her tongue delved into the spot just under his crown, licked and teased. Then her mouth engulfed him, and he lost the ability to breathe. Both hands went to her hair, his fingers curling in the silky strands, two tight fists.
He let her work him, her tongue dancing and teasing, her mouth hot and wild, a small sound vibrating right up through his shaft. It was beautiful to see, to feel, adding to the scorching pleasure. All the while that dark hunger in him spread. He transferred his hold in her hair, bunching the strands at the top of her head in a knot around his hand while the other curled around her throat.
He pushed her head down over his cock, thrusting gently at the same time, driving deeper into her mouth. She didn’t fight him, but relaxed even more, relaxed her throat to give him that. God, he loved her. He loved the way she took him no matter what he asked of her. He held her there a moment and then let her take a breath. “Again, princess,” he whispered. His voice came out husky. Dark. Compelling.
Her mouth clamped down over his cock, swallowed him down as he thrust upward. At the same time, he pushed her head down over him. She took him deeper. He stroked her throat gently with his fingers. His cock swelled even more.
She was tight and hot. Wet. The constriction felt like paradise, but more, it was what she did for him. The way she did it. One of her hands stroked caresses over his balls and then along his thighs. She didn’t tense up. She trusted him to bring her up for air, which he did, although it was with reluctance.
“You have no idea how that feels, baby,” he said, needing her to know.
“Good?” She licked the leaking drops from the crown.
“So good. Can you take me deeper?”
She sent him a look that told him of course she could, or at least she would try. She was willing to do whatever it took to please him. “I want this, Zara.” It came out more of a command than he intended.
Her mouth was on him again, swallowing him whole, taking him deep. He began to move, thrusting gently, over and over, each thrust taking him a little deeper. That fast, he knew if he let himself he’d be out of control, but he didn’t want it to end. He pulled her off of him, gave her air and repeated, each thrust a kind of paradise. It wasn’t just her mouth and throat, it was the fact that she gave that to him. That she gave him her trust and that she wanted to please him. He wanted this, so she wanted it for him.
“I’m going to blow, baby. You don’t want me feeding you, you’ve got to stop.” He let go of her hair, making it her choice.
The suction never stopped, and then his body was an impossible rocket again. So much more than he could have conceived. She took it all, and when he was done, her tongue was very gentle on him, just as he’d taught her. She rolled over and smiled up at him, looking angelic when she’d just given him something sinful and so much better than he’d ever had.
He slid down in the bed to lie beside her. “I’m going to give you an hour of sleep, baby, but we’re nowhere near done tonight.”
“I’m not certain I’ll be able to keep up with you.”
He laughed and stroked her breast. “You’ll keep up.” There was no question she’d keep up. She was made for him.
• • •
“It’s got to be Bluetooth,” Trap said. He paced back and forth frowning, his eyes on Zara’s head, as if he might cut it open just to see if he was right. “I’ve developed a prototype, a device that is able to store vast amounts of information beyond anything the government or any private sector can imagine. It seems Whitney has done the same, otherwise the SSD couldn’t hold that much data.”
He pulled what looked like a regular cell phone out of his pocket, his fingers moving over it, giving commands. “I’m searching for all Bluetooth devices in close proximity.” He muttered the explanation, but his tone was one of annoyance, as if having to explain irritated him beyond belief.
“There’s several, which I expected—the cars, the house, the lab—but we’ve got one here called Fiore Brillante.” He looked up, his gaze meeting Zara’s.
She swallowed hard. He was intense. She glanced at Gino. He was watching Trap carefully. They all were. Not carefully, expectantly. She found herself doing the same.
“It’s Italian,” Trap murmured unnecessarily.
“Brilliant Flower,” Gino interpreted.
Zara knew languages and she knew what it meant. She didn’t know how knowing the name of the SSD could help other than the fact that Whitney had an obsession with flowers.
Trap continued to stare at her until she was afraid he’d burn a hole through her skin with his laser-sharp gaze.
She leaned close to Cayenne. “He doesn’t have an axe handy, does he?” she whispered.
“An axe?” Cayenne’s frown matched Trap’s. “Why an axe?”
“I’m pretty certain he’d like to see my brains spilled out on the table so he could go picking through them and find what he’s looking for.”
Cayenne choked back her laughter and sobered when Trap glared at the two of them.
“Do you have to be so distracting?” he demanded.
“Well, yes,” Cayenne answered, clearly unafraid of her big, bad husband.
“You’re losing control of that woman,” Wyatt pointed out a little too gleefully.
Trap’s expression darkened. “I never had control.” He circled Zara and Cayenne like a shark, his gaze glued to Zara’s head. Cayenne might not be intimidated, but Zara was. She knew exactly where Gino was, sitting back in the shadows right by the door. When he’d taken that position she’d thought a little hysterically that he was the guard, preventing her from leaving. She hated being under scrutiny, and all four men were staring at her as if she’d grown two heads. It threw her back to when she was a child in Whitney’s compound and was under guard for one reason or another.
Now, she needed Gino. She felt very vulnerable and when that happened, she knew she could look to him and immediately the feeling would ease. He did that for her—made her feel safe. It was silly to think she would be feeling apprehensive and insecure when she was surrounded by GhostWalkers, but she did. She accepted that part of her a little more now. She might always have moments when she was under scrutiny that she panicked a little, but that was just part of who she was.
Her eyes met Gino’s across the room. A faint smile touched his mouth. He looked tough. Intimidating. Just as intimidating as Trap, only in a different way. It was significant that he had taken up a position there by the door. Gino was all about guarding others to keep them safe. He kept her safe.
Heat slipped into her veins. God, he was sexy. He just sat there with that faint smile on his face, and all she could think about was the things he’d done to her the night before. All night. In the morning. She’d hardly slept and she knew he hadn’t.
“You’ve tried to connect with the storage unit yourself?” Wyatt asked.
Zara forced her mind back to the main problem and the men determined to help her. She looked around the room. There was Trap, Wyatt and Ezekiel surrounding her, looking at her like she might explode any moment. Joe sat across the room, very still, very quiet, making certain not to disturb the others. Gino guarded the door. Cayenne sat on one side of her and Bellisia had taken the other. They were in the middle of the room, sitting on slightly uncomfortable high stools, like ones that might be in a bar. The seats twisted from side to side and it was difficult for Zara not to swivel nervously when the men stared at her.
“Yes, all the time. Whitney has it password protected. I can’t access the data in it. Whitney didn’t want me to run and then give whatever information I had to someone else.”
Wyatt nodded. “We’ve tried the various passwords he’s been known to use and none of them have worked. I think he’s made this simple for himself. You’ve got a permanent SSD that he never planned on removing. He injects you with something light, just enough to keep you from seeing him extract the files so you don’t know where the SSD is located or how he gets the information. It’s fast and you’re not under more than a few minutes.”
“The soldier pointed his gun right here,” Gino said, pointing to the spot on his own brain.
“The where wouldn’t matter if it’s Bluetooth,” Trap said. “And password protected. We know it is and the device is named Fiore Brillante.” Again, the last was said speculatively, as if he was turning something over and over in his mind.
“Why make it difficult?” Ezekiel asked. “Whitney knows she can’t get away. He has the virus. He has the other women. She’s not going to give him any real trouble.”
Gino added his assessment of Zara. “She’s the gentle soul. The one that wants the best for the other women. She follows the rules.”
“She didn’t,” Bellisia objected. “She brought us contraband and spent weeks in solitary.”
“He would expect that. Those small rebellions were nothing to him. He wanted her to break the rules that didn’t matter to him so he could punish her,” Wyatt theorized. “Did she ever do anything that caused him to hurt her physically?”
Zara’s stomach clenched hard. She pressed her hand there and once more looked to Gino. Of course she had. Once. One time. She looked down at her hands. It had only taken one time of Whitney inflicting real pain on her and she’d never gone so far again. In fact, she’d stopped bringing in contraband for the girls for nearly a year—until her anger at Whitney for his injustices and at herself for letting him make her a weakling overcame her fear.
“Zara?” Wyatt prompted. “I’m asking for a reason. He put the device in your head. This all centers around you. The more we know about you and your life there, the better the chance we have of figuring out Whitney’s password.”
She kept looking at Gino, eyes unconsciously pleading with him. She’d told him. That one time she’d rebelled against Whitney’s authority.
Gino cleared his throat, got up casually, in that fluid, catlike way he had that always made him look more dangerous and lethal than ever. “The girls wanted pictures of a real college party. They wanted photographs of the college boys.” He stalked across the room, his body moving in very close to hers. He stopped right behind her, one hand sliding up her back, under her hair, to curl around the nape of her neck.
The hold felt claiming. Possessive. It also felt protective. The moment he was close to her, Zara felt safe and almost comfortable in spite of being under such scrutiny. She wanted to wrap herself around him, melt her body right into his. Be that close. Maybe others wouldn’t like the way he took care of her, but she needed it and he gave it to her.
“She was young, only fourteen, but she snuck out of her apartment, right past three of Whitney’s supersoldiers. At that time, she always had guards around her.”
Gino leaned down and brushed the top of her head with a kiss. Zara knew he did it because he could feel the tension rising in her. “At fourteen, she was already outthinking her guards. She got past them just after midnight, snuck into the party and took lots of pictures, using her phone. She went through the rooms until she found a computer open, sent the pictures to her email and then stored them on a very small thumb drive. She wiped them off the computer and from her phone and snuck back into her room. She thought she was safe.”
“I should have known better,” Zara whispered.
Bellisia put a comforting hand on her knee. “You did it for us, honey.”
“I know.”
“Whitney, of course monitored everything. He knew she had pictures. She refused to give them up, telling him she didn’t have them, but it didn’t matter. He had the three men who had failed in guarding her punish her.”
“They used hoses,” Bellisia said, her voice very low. “He made all of us watch.”
“After,” Gino took up the story, “he forced the girls to watch as he had each of the soldiers killed for failure to ensure Zara’s compliance.” He slipped both arms around her.
“So, you never defied him like that again,” Ezekiel said.
Bellisia and Zara exchanged a long look. “I never got caught again,” Zara clarified. She glanced over her shoulder at Gino, leveled her gaze on him and told the absolute truth. A warning. “I follow someone’s lead until they prove to me they aren’t worth it and then I don’t.”
“I got that,” Gino said. “I’m crazy, baby, not stupid.”
“Whitney’s lulled into a false sense of security with her, thinking she’ll obey his every directive in order not to get punished. So, he uses Bluetooth,” Trap mused aloud. “Easiest way. He just knocks her out, puts his device near the SSD and types in his password and they connect. He keeps her under just long enough to extract the information and he’s got what he wants. You didn’t ask him questions, did you? By that time, he’d intimidated you enough that you wouldn’t go against him.”
She licked her lips, hating that her mouth was dry. “I didn’t. Never. Not once.” Mostly she hated that she hadn’t even tried to figure it out herself. She was smart. She should have.
“So, we need the password,” Wyatt said.
Trap continued to pace back and forth. He fascinated Zara. Everything about him. The way he moved. The total concentration. He was absolutely silent. Zara became aware of how the room stilled. The clock seemed very loud as it ticked out the seconds. She held her breath, the beating of her heart overly loud in her ears. Gino’s arms remained around her, but he also was barely breathing.
Trap moved with unbelievable precision, almost as if his brain was moving so fast, his body had to try to keep up and had become a machine. Trap passed the three barstools sitting in the middle of the room several times. He circled them and came to stand in front of Zara, using his long fingers like two rakes, shoving them through his hair until he looked wild.
“Simple. Simple,” he repeated under his breath. “Fiore Brillante.” He muttered the phrase over and over, looking directly at her. “Zara. Your name has several meanings. Gino calls you princess. He’s Italian, but in Russian, Zara means ‘princess.’” He looked to Gino for added confirmation.
Gino nodded.
“In Hebrew, it means ‘seed,’” Trap said. “I’m not going there. Don’t want to give Gino any more ideas than he already has. In Arabic, Zara means ‘flower’ or ‘star.’ In this case, I would say flower. It’s spelled differently sometimes—Zahra.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Ezekiel asked. “Enlighten us and maybe we’ll be able to help you with this line of thinking.”
Trap shrugged. “I’m not certain myself yet. Just mulling things around in my head.”
“In Italian, it would be spelled differently but it means ‘orange flower,’” Gino said.
“That’s a possibility, if he actually paired the two of you. He might go with that …” He broke off to look straight at Gino. “You think Whitney paired the two of you?”
“Yeah,” Gino said, shocking Zara.
She whirled around on the barstool to stare at him in total astonishment. “You do?”
“Babe, we light up the world when we go at it. Been with a lot of women, no one does it for me like you. Might be the emotion, that’s probably a good part of it, but”—he shrugged like it was no big deal—“chances are good he created a pairing.”
“I thought the chances were slim,” Trap contradicted. “Lately he hasn’t been bothering unless he wants a specific genetic pairing for a child. Was the attraction between you instant and physical?”
Zara detested the idea that Whitney might have paired them. She wanted one thing without his taint on it. She loved Gino. She loved the way he made love to her, even when it was wild and crazy or he was introducing her to things she hadn’t known could be done. She didn’t want to think that Whitney was in any way responsible. Gino brought his hand to the back of her neck, his fingers massaging. She knew he could feel the tension in her. She wanted to leave the room, not be around anyone while she tried to decide if Whitney had really used pheromones against them. She actually made a move, as if she might leave.
Gino leaned into her, put his lips against her ear. “Do you really think Whitney could make me love someone? You’ve got my heart, Zara. He couldn’t possibly make that happen. Settle. Let Trap puzzle this out. His mind is … something.”
She took a breath, made herself relax under Gino’s magic fingers. What did she know about Whitney? She was an observer. She’d trained herself to pay attention to the details around her. Whitney didn’t understand emotion, but he did love his flowers. He always had a hothouse and he spent time there.
“Trap, he spends time in his greenhouse. A huge amount of time. If he loves anything at all, it’s his flowers.” The moment the thought escaped, she was certain whatever that password was, it had something to do with his obsession with his flowers.
Trap’s gaze was fixed on her immediately. Speculative. “Simple,” he murmured. “Zara means ‘flower.’ ‘Orange flower’ in Italian. Hothouse. His only real emotion.” He repeated it, still rumpling his hair and staring at her. “Device named Fiore Brillante. Bright flower. Bright flower.” Once again his gaze went to Zara, his laser-like stare focusing completely on her.
She realized he wasn’t really seeing her at all. He was in his own mind, shuffling through a thousand possibilities and discarding them.
“You refer to the place he keeps his flowers as a hothouse, not a greenhouse, is that because he does?” Trap demanded.
“He never called it a greenhouse,” Zara said. She glanced at Bellisia for confirmation.
Bellisia shook her head. “It was always hothouse.”
“He thought the entire green conversation for the planet was taking too much attention off the military when we needed it most.”
“Try ZagarAINHothousE,” he said suddenly to Ezekiel. “Capitalize the first and last letter of each word. He likes to do that. With Bluetooth we don’t need the exact location of the SSD in her brain, just close to it, so get close.”
“Why that combination?” Ezekiel objected. “What’s your reasoning, Trap?”
“It’s Arabic, and a fusion of two words. Zara for ‘flower’ and ‘Zahara’ for beautifully bright,” Wyatt provided. “Zara is beautifully bright and she’s one of Whitney’s flowers.”
“Still doesn’t make sense. Why that specific spelling? Trap, how could you possibly come up with that phrase?” Ezekiel demanded.
“He named Zara after the word for flower in Arabic so it means something to him. He has a hothouse and grows flowers. Citrus flowers vary, but zagara specifically indicates sweet orange and bitter orange trees. If you travel and want to keep citrus, you’re going to have to grow it in a hothouse. Citrus can’t be grown everywhere. Then there’s the Italian input. Zara means ‘orange flower.’ Zagara has been in literature, specifically Italian literature. In the work, they mention a hothouse variety of zagara.” He shrugged. “I could be far off, but his mind works like that. He believes he’s very clever. We know he likes to capitalize the first and last letter of every word. It all comes back to Zara. She’s his shining star. His bright flower.”
“He didn’t think that of me,” Zara objected. “That I was beautifully bright.”
“He didn’t let you know he thought that,” Gino corrected. “Baby, no one could see you, know your skills, and not feel you shine bright. It just isn’t possible.”
Zara stiffened when Ezekiel moved very close to her and began typing into his small device. Her heart beat so hard she pressed her hand to her chest. What if they couldn’t get the information? Would she have to leave Gino? What if they got it and it fell into the wrong hands? She became aware of Gino rubbing his hand down her back soothingly and knew her breathing had changed enough to give away her fears to him.
“It’s entered, and the SSD seemed to accept it. Can you do your thing, Zara?” Ezekiel asked. “Tell the SSD to download to our device?” Clearly, he wanted to see if she could do it.
She held her breath, but nodded. Reaching for the machine, she gave it orders to connect with the device Ezekiel held. She felt the response, the way the machine accepted her energy and immediately, as if she were part of the hard drive, did her bidding. There was a moment of silence and then Ezekiel’s breath hissed out as he stared at Trap’s storage prototype in his hand.
“Holy fuck, Joe, she’s really got these files. They’re downloading right now. I can’t believe this. She didn’t do anything, say a word. Zara, has anyone ever told you that you’re a miracle? Because you are.”
“She is,” Gino agreed, “in more ways than one.”
Zara shivered, glancing warily toward Joe and then Trap. These were men who thought in terms of weapons and how they could use them. She had a gift that was unparalleled. As far as she knew, no one else could talk to machines, let alone give a speech and talk to them. Why had she let Whitney make her think she was worthless?
She glanced at Bellisia. Immediately Bellisia reached out and took her hand, smiling at her, pride in her eyes. “I knew you’d be able to do this.”
“I think Trap and the others helped.”
Trap shook his head. “The hothouse thing was the deciding piece in my mind.”
She had no idea how he could get Zagara in hothouse as a password, even after he explained it. Joe stood up and took out his cell phone, indicated to the others that he wanted silence. It was only a matter of seconds before it became apparent why.
“Whitney? Joe Spagnola here. Just thought I’d connect with you. Really hoped this phone number still worked. We just extracted the information from the SSD you installed in Zara’s brain. Very clever. She has a one in a million gift, doesn’t she?”
Joe was silent a moment, nodding his head. “Yeah, Trap figured it out. That was your main worry, wasn’t it? You knew once Trap was brought in it was going to be over. Stay out of Zara’s life. Keep your word this time. You want to send your supersoldiers against us once in a while to test them, we accept that, but you know Gino’s a wild card. You don’t want him set loose on you, and you take his woman, he’ll be coming after you. They’ll be no stopping him.”
Again, there was a small silence while Joe listened to Whitney. “No chance that I’ll send you any of that information. None, Whitney. I won’t bargain with you. You knew Violet was flawed, but you sent her out anyway and in the end, you may as well have pulled the trigger that killed her. You sent Zara after Cheng knowing what would happen to her. You’re never going to be my favorite person. I’m not the man who will help you. I’m telling you to back off Zara and giving you the warning that if you don’t, you’ll be contending with Gino.”
There was another silence. Joe shook his head. “Not happening. You can figure out who will end up with the information, if anyone does. For all I know, it will be destroyed.” They all knew better. Joe shrugged. “Don’t know. Don’t care. Just leave her alone, or you’re going to find out what happens when four teams of GhostWalkers decide to make you their number one priority. You need to start thinking about that.”
Again silence. Then Joe sighed. “I get it, Whitney. You’re a great patriot, blah, blah, blah. I’m getting damned tired of seeing the havoc you wreak with your fucked-up experiments on these women. You have no right to hold them prisoners. I’m hanging up now. Things happen if my temper gets loose, but you already know that, don’t you?” He ended the call and looked at Zara. “I believe he’s smart enough to take me seriously, honey.”
“Thank you.” She indicated the device where the information was stored. “What are you going to do with that?”
“I’m hand delivering it to Major General. It’s his problem, not ours. I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes when he gets this little bomb. It could blow up in his face. Again, not our problem. I’m leaving tonight.”