Whitney fumed silently, as she was forced to practically run after Hicks in her Manolo Blahniks. Each step was a jab to her heart. Number one, for having to listen to Hicks’s accusatory tone and pretend like she didn’t care. And number two, she was ruining these $5000 shoes because he was trying to run away from her and she was chasing him, something she was absolutely not used to. And why did she care anyway? It wasn’t like they were in a relationship or that she had even met the man before tonight. Although he did have an ass to die for, and those shoulders… It made her wonder if he could squeeze through a door frame. His power had been unmistakable when he’d lifted her against the wall. She didn’t kid herself, she wasn’t a petite woman, and she’d never tried to be, but she’d never had a man hold her so easily.

Her heart fluttered, but she quickly forced it back into submission. Having this kind of reaction to any man was dangerous—with Hicks, it could be devastating. She had no intention of allowing her first experiment in losing control of her emotions to be with someone who thought she was a high-class hooker.

Besides, in a couple of months, she wouldn’t need any man for anything. She’d have enough money in the bank to start her own company—and she could buy a dildo to satisfy her other cravings.

By the time she made it to the kitchen, she’d talked her temper down and eased back into a calm, serene state of detachment. Tonight had merely been a fluke, a result of her fear of having her apartment trashed and her car stolen. That was enough to tip anyone’s scales off balance.

Back on solid footing within her own psyche, she almost stumbled when she breezed through the kitchen door. The closest comparison would be if a bunch of fireman calendar models had gathered in one room, only there wasn’t a single shirtless fireman on this planet who could compare to these men.

She’d thought Hicks was big—damn, he was—but half of these men were larger. There was an aura of danger hovering unmistakably in the air. These were men who knew how to kill and defend the people under their protection, no mistake.

Hicks, bless his poor little soul, didn’t give her enough time to fully appreciate the gathering of male gods before he rudely interrupted her silent fantasy.

“Whitney, meet the team. Team, meet Whitney.” His tone was harsh and curt. He couldn’t make it more obvious that he was eager to be rid of her. Well, she was here now, and her sister had to be close by. Any man in the room could take her to Melissa.

Sourpuss could stick his thumb in his mouth and pout in the corner.

One of the men let out a low whistle, and her lips curled instinctively. This was something she could get used to.

The smallest man in the room extended a hand. He was olive-skinned with short, curly, dark hair. But while he was smaller than the rest of the guys, the cords in his arms were blatantly visible beneath his T-shirt. “I’m Juarez. Don’t listen to this guy; he’s just not used to being around such a beautiful lady.”

Knowing Hicks was watching her every move, Whitney tilted her head and dropped her voice an octave when she answered. “Obviously. I’m Whitney Averton, I believe you know my sister, Melissa.”

“I’m Diggs.” A gorgeous dark-haired man—a playboy, judging from his rakish grin—took her hand. “If you’re Melissa’s sister, then you’ve got a whole team on your side. But I would be glad to handle your case solo.”

A twinkle in his blue eyes was enough to draw real laughter from within her chest. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea or a horrible one.”

The tallest guy in the room didn’t make any effort to reach for her hand. He nodded his dark head and leaned against the counter, arms crossed, an unreadable look on his face. “I’m King. Glad you’re home safe. Melissa filled us all in on the fact that you’re having some trouble. I’m going to assume Hicks took care of the problem?”

She tilted her chin up to meet his inscrutable dark gaze. “Actually, he didn’t.”

She didn’t bother elaborating any further. If Hicks wanted to embarrass her, she was going to embarrass him right back. And from the cutting stares the rest of the team cast his way, she’d succeeded. His spine stiffened more, a feat that she’d thought impossible. “I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

Diggs’s brows shot up. “You? You couldn’t wait to get rid—” he cleared his throat and changed course, “—you asked me to take over her case.”

Whitney swore she saw Hicks’s hackles rise like he was a wild wolf ready to fight to the death over its last meal. “You misunderstood.” Oh, no one had misunderstood. Hicks had tried to dump her off on Diggs, and for some reason, which she couldn’t even try to fathom right now, he was changing his mind mid-stride.

Had she been at all worried about Hicks’s feelings, she might have stepped in and spoken up, but a little bit of male testosterone had never hurt anyone. Figuring the quietest guy in the room was the safest bet, Whitney eased over next to King, keeping the island between them.

“I don’t think he misunderstood. You clearly asked him to take over the case, bro.” Juarez picked up a complicated looking bow and started fiddling with the string. Thoroughly enjoying this, Whitney glanced at King to see how he’d reacted. Nothing. She’d swear the man hadn’t even blinked.

“Stay out of this, Juarez. Dr. Averton asked me to help, so I’m handling her.” Hicks spoke quietly, his tone more than threatening. This was about to get very, very interesting. Hicks was at least twice Juarez’s size, but she sensed Juarez was fast.

She hadn’t had two men fight over her since sophomore year of college. A lot of women were scared when guys got into a fight over them, but Whitney had a different take. Two males duking it out for one woman. Her. It might be one of the most flattering compliments a guy could give.

Plus, men who didn’t care didn’t get angry or try to pick fights, which meant Hicks wasn’t completely cold to her.

But Juarez and Diggs ruined it by grinning like little boys and throwing their hands up in surrender. Hicks turned to her, opened his mouth as if to say something—only he didn’t. He slammed it shut and stomped out of the room, leaving her completely dumbfounded. What the hell was wrong with him?

He thinks you’re a criminal or a call girl, or both. Not to mention he saw the twisted shit you keep for the senator. That thought was enough to thoroughly squash her enjoyment of the situation.

“Never seen him act like that before,” King said.

She jumped.

Diggs rubbed his hands together. “This is going to be fun.”

Fun? Being stuck with a guy who hated her? No, that wasn’t her idea of a good time.

She briefly considered asking one of the other men to help her instead of Hicks, but she didn’t know them. She didn’t really know Hicks either, but at least she knew she could get a reaction out of him. And that kind of reaction she could control. So, she’d have to put up with a little disgust—it was hardly the first time someone in her life had looked down on her.

“Whitney?” Melissa appeared in the doorway, white lab coat over her pantsuit, her thick mahogany hair pulled back into a low ponytail and not an ounce of makeup on her face. She’d never been happier to see her sister in her entire life.

They met halfway across the kitchen, wrapping their arms around each other. “I see you haven’t changed. Still, the nerd,” Whitney teased.

“And you still have to be the center of attention,” Melissa teased right back. The words sounded harsh, but this had been their ongoing joke since youth, their secret way of poking fun at their parents. Or maybe it was just Melissa’s way of comforting Whitney after she got into trouble…again.

She squeezed Melissa and let go, stepping back to give her a once over. “Let me guess, you’ve been in that outfit for two days.”

Melissa pushed her glasses up her nose, grinning. “Oh, come on, you know I wouldn’t do that. That would make too much laundry. I’ve had this on for three.”

“You’re the only woman who could pull that off and make it look good.” Unwilling to completely break contact with her sister, Whitney held onto Melissa’s hands. “I’ve missed you. You realize we haven’t seen each other in a year? Where have you been?”

Something flickered in Melissa’s gaze, and she glanced away, her telltale sign that she was hiding something. It was then that Whitney remembered all the men standing around them in the room. She wouldn’t push her sister, not now anyway.

“You know, secret government projects, blah, blah, blah. What happened to you tonight?”

Juarez set his bow down and turned toward them. “Yeah, fill us in. We’d all like to help. Your sister keeps us under lockdown 24/7, and we’re going stir crazy.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. We need to stick to our controlled trials. One man at a time,” Melissa said uneasily.

Curious now, Whitney prodded, “Why? Isn’t four men better than one?” But her sister didn’t take the bait. She did that thing Whitney had always hated—she assumed her scientist mask, all calm and collected. It was the one mask Whitney had never been able to figure out how to break.

“It’s not possible,” Melissa said.

“You’re never going to know what we’re capable of unless we work as a unit.” King straightened from the counter, one of the first movements he’d made since Whitney had come into the room. At his full height, he completely towered over everyone. The man was intimidating as hell, and Whitney found herself easing closer to her sister.

Apparently, Melissa wasn’t the least bit intimidated. “It is a bad idea. We still haven’t figured out the triggers. I think keeping you in a controlled environment until we know everything is the smartest option.”

King’s voice was quiet when he said, “But we’re never going to know everything until we get out into the real world, are we?” Everyone in the room watched the battle of wills quietly going on between the two.

Her sister pursed her lips together before answering, “Is that a risk you’re willing to take?”

The tension in the room was thick enough to swim through, but Whitney still didn’t know anything more than before they’d begun this coded conversation. She should’ve known her sister wouldn’t give away her secret so easily.

So maybe she should try someone else. She knew she could get a reaction from Hicks. He was the one she’d have to corner to get info. And there was obviously something fascinating happening, something her sister had gotten herself involved in. Besides, she needed to get her car back, and there was a good chance Hicks could help her. If he actually was working for some secret government agency, he could probably track it through its GPS.

Or she could try to reach Cory again.

Unless he was involved with her B&E…

No. He’d been too happy yesterday. Why would he try to destroy her life when he wanted her so bad? Whitney gave herself an internal shake. She’d reach out to him again in the morning, but the risk of revealing everything now was simply too high. Even to her sister. Whitney made a show of stretching and yawning. “Where’s my room? I need a shower and a bed.”

Melissa blinked behind her thick glasses as if Whitney had just said something puzzling. “I’ll show you where the personal living quarters are.”

Before Whitney could leave, Diggs gave her a wink and said, “Put her next to my room. I’ll make sure she’s safe.”

Melissa said, “She’s staying in my room. Plus, I need you in the lab for first rotation.”

Diggs groaned and dropped his face into his hands. “I thought it was King’s turn.”

“Nope,” King said.

“Come on, you need some rest. You can fill me in after you’ve had a shower.” Melissa led her out of the room, barely giving her a chance to throw a “good night” over her shoulder.

They crossed through a butler’s pantry and then exited into an opulent dining room with a long, polished mahogany table and two crystal chandeliers overhead. The rug covering most of the floor was probably worth more than Whitney’s yearly salary. “I didn’t realize the government included this kind of bling. I’m going to have to rethink my career.”

They passed through a doorway and into a three-story foyer, with a black-and-white checkered floor, polished white walls, and a curving grand staircase. Tiger came running across the room. Whitney held out her arms, and he leaped into them, purring in her hands.

“I see you still have the cat.”

“Did you think I’d turn him out?” She’d found him in her parking garage, a baby kitten, nearly starving to death. She stroked his whisper soft black fur, loving the way he curled into her and tucked his head under her chin like he was giving her a much-needed hug.

“Of course, not. You’ve never been able to turn away someone in need.” Melissa slowly ascended the staircase, and Whitney followed on her heels. “I’m not working for the government anymore.”

That jarred her attention from her surroundings. “Is that the reason I haven’t heard from you in a year?”

“Yeah, it is.”

Wanting to see her sister’s expression, Whitney picked up her pace, so they were climbing side by side. “Aren’t you going to tell me anything?”

“I really can’t, Whitney.” They reached the second story landing, and Melissa hooked a left down a plush, carpeted hallway lined with tall, hand-carved, white doors on either side. This wasn’t anywhere close to her sister’s typical living conditions. “So, do you own this place?”

Melissa let out a soft sigh and opened the door on her left, gesturing for Whitney to precede her into the room. “Of course not. I’ve got money saved up, but not anywhere close to this.”

“Then who does?” Tiger jumped down and went to explore the room.

Melissa closed the door, the handle snicking shut with a soft click. When she turned back to Whitney, her face was no longer expressionless. Her eyes glowed with excitement and something else. Worry. “I can tell you a little bit more, now that we’re alone. Why don’t you hop in the shower first and let me change?”

“No way. Spill. Now.” Whitney crossed to Melissa’s enormous bed and dropped back onto the crushed silk comforter. With its paneled walls and vaulted ceilings and windows, the room looked ready for a wealthy ambassador or a foreign dignitary.

Hicks had led her to believe they were going to some concrete bunker crap hole and he’d been living in a place like this all along? Oh, how she was so going to get even with him. How could a man be so infuriating and so sexy at the same time?

Whitney made a mental note to interrogate her sister about him. She had no intention of sparring with him again without more ammunition under her belt.

Melissa shrugged out of her lab coat, tossed it on an armchair near the door, and then collapsed near the head of the bed. Toeing off her shoes, she leaned back on the stack of decorative pillows. “When I disappeared off the radar last year, I was working for the government. Or at least I thought I was.”

“So, if you weren’t, who were you working for?”

Melissa pulled off her glasses and touched the bridge of her nose. “An evil person.”

A tiny tingle of apprehension tightened Whitney’s stomach, and she eased closer to her sister. Despite their differences, they’d always been there for each other, and right now, she suspected Melissa needed her. “Talk to me. I can tell something is going on here. I’m not stupid,” Whitney said gently. “Those men down there aren’t normal, are they?”

Melissa’s gaze searched hers intently. “What do you mean?”

“I mean they’re like Special Forces or something, right? That guy, King, is bigger than any man I’ve ever seen. And Hicks—you should’ve seen the way he moved. Like a predator.”

Melissa’s shoulders eased, and Whitney got the feeling she had missed out on something significant.

“They’re not Special Forces because they don’t work for the military. Not anymore. But they are the closest thing to it.”

Whitney sensed that she was just scratching the surface and her curiosity wouldn’t allow her to let it go this easily. “So, they’re mercenaries, right?”

Melissa shook her head, “No. They’re good and honorable men who were put in a very terrible situation. I’m trying to help them.”

“By keeping them locked up in this place? King said you’re not allowing them to leave. But how can you control them? How can anyone control them?”

Besides their obvious size and muscle, there was an aura of raw power that hung around every one of those men. The thought of her sister, stern and logical though she was, having any say-so over what they did was laughable. “You’re a scientist. They’re mercenaries or whatever you want to call them. What logical reason could there be for this situation?”

Melissa sat up so suddenly, causing Whitney to jerk back in surprise. Her sister grabbed her hand, her eyes burning into her. “It’s not logical. It’s—”

“What? Just tell me, for Pete’s sake. You know you can trust me.”

Melissa held silent for so long that Whitney wanted to shake her. Her sister’s stubbornness would be enough to crack Mother Teresa’s patience. Just before Whitney was going to open her mouth and begin interrogating her again, Melissa spoke.

“I haven’t gotten to talk to a civilian in so long.”

Sensing a chink in her sister’s armor, Whitney took her sister’s hand and said, “I’m not a civilian—I’m your sister.”

Melissa gave her hand a slight squeeze and then pulled it back into her lap. “You have to swear to secrecy.”

Whitney held up her pinky. “Pinky swear.”

Melissa gave a broken laugh, but she took Whitney’s pinky anyway. “I was working for the government, under a very powerful man in a research facility in a different country. Hicks and his people were all there too. I was supposed to help another researcher figure out how to help them on their missions.”

“Help them how? Like, make some new weapons or bombs or something?” Her sister was acting like she’d created the atomic bomb all over again.

“No…worse.”

“What could be worse than that?”

Melissa bit her lip and hugged her knees to her chest. The little tingling of dread Whitney had felt earlier doubled. “Melissa, what’s worse?”

“I can’t say. It’s not my place.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong. I know you—you won’t even jaywalk.”

Melissa had never broken the rules or the law. She gave straight-laced an entirely new meaning. It was impossible to imagine her involved in anything illegal or harmful.

“I had no idea what we were doing at first—” each one of her sister’s words tumbled out faster than the last, “—but I was still part of the experiment.”

She wanted to pull her hair out. So far, Melissa had talked plenty, sure, but she hadn’t told her anything. “Look, if you’re in some kind of trouble, let me help. I’ve got friends. What do you need? You need to get out of the country?”

Melissa laughed bitterly. “You’re the one who needs help. Your place was broken into. I’m fine. There is nowhere safer on this planet than where we are right now.”

“Okay, let me approach this a different way. Tell me exactly what happened in this terrible experiment.”

“Do you remember when I won that Edgar research award in Switzerland?”

Whitney rolled her eyes. “Of course, I remember that. Mom and Dad called every newspaper in the country to have it announced.” It was just another example of how much they admired Melissa. But for some reason, Whitney didn’t resent her sister because of it. Never had. It wasn’t her fault their parents showed favoritism.

“Right. So, do you know why I won the award?”

“Are you being for real right now? You think I wouldn’t make it my business to know why my sister won the most prestigious scientific award in the world?”

Melissa gently punched her arm and finally smiled. “You don’t have to be a smart ass. Okay, let me break it down into normal people’s terms.”

“Please.”

“I was able to successfully alter a live animal’s DNA sequence.”

Whitney paused, taking that in. She might not be a genius, but she knew what DNA was. “So, you changed what, a mouse’s DNA? Did you turn him into a horse or something?”

Melissa scoffed, “Don’t be silly. I simply made him a better mouse.”

She tried to figure out how you could make a better mouse—Did he eat more cheese? Evade traps? —but all she could envision was a little white furry rodent with tiny ears and ugly red eyes.

Her sister continued, “Compared to pretesting before my experiment, the mouse performed at the same level as the other placebo mice. Post research, he showed a statistical improvement in all aspects, including hearing, sight, speed, and agility.”

“So, you made a super mouse?” Whitney tried to keep the sarcasm out of her voice, but it was impossible.

“In a way, yes. But it really has nothing to do with the mouse. It has to do with the fact that I was able to successfully alter a living creature’s DNA. And have it live for a sustained period without adverse side effects.”

Whitney dropped her head down and rubbed her temples. “Great. Why don’t you get to the part about how this involves Hicks and his team?”

Melissa cleared her throat and, for the second time that night, avoided her gaze. “I was hired to do the same thing to them – stabilize their DNA.”

“Why would you need to stabilize their DNA? What was wrong with it?”

“Someone altered it.”

It took Whitney’s brain an extra second or two to process that last bit of intel, and another to react. She jumped off the bed and stared at her sister in shock. “Like they’re not ordinary people anymore?”

“You always did have an overactive imagination,” her sister said with a small smile. “No, I simply isolated the molecules involved with their strengths, used protein bonding synthesis to enhance that area of the DNA strand that had been previously altered. I was able to stabilize the men and decrease their negative reactions to the initial serum injection.”

Whitney rubbed her temples, trying to massage some understanding into her brain. “English.”

Melissa shrugged as if they were talking about a change in the weather. “The head researcher, Dr. Winters, altered their DNA, but her formula was off, resulting in some very adverse reactions from the men. I was able to stabilize the broken link long enough so that they didn’t have a massive aneurysm or heart failure, but my fix is only a temporary patch. They need regular doses to retain their norm.”

“So, what you’re saying is that the men aren’t normal and if they don’t get your serum they’ll die? What the hell did Dr. Winter’s do to them?”

Melissa’s eyes grew bright. “She made them faster. Smarter. Stronger.”

“And you kept them alive.”

“Exactly,” Melissa said.

Whitney felt the blood drain from her head. “Hicks.”

Her sister eyed her with new respect. “Figured that one out, did you?”

“He picked me up like I weighed less than a pebble. No man has ever done that.” But he hadn’t crushed her, or bruised, or hurt her in any way. In fact, he’d done nothing but give her one hundred percent pleasure.

Until he’d ruined it by opening his big fat mouth.

“There were some other side effects too. They all have enhanced senses,” Melissa said matter-of-factly.

“Well, apparently Hicks wasn’t smart before the experiment. He’s as dumb as a brick wall, pardon the cliché.”

Whitney collapsed back onto the bed, letting her hands hang over her knees. It was too much. First her car, then her apartment, and now this—whatever this was.

“I’ve never known Hicks to be dumb or rash. Did you notice him exhibiting any odd behaviors in the field?”

“Speak English,” Whitney bit out. Her brain was absolutely done. It was all she could do to take in all this information, let alone decode science speak.

“Did he do anything strange when he was with you?”

Whitney felt the heat rise to her cheeks. If almost screwing someone within minutes of meeting them was strange, then, yeah, he was definitely strange. And so was she. “No, not that I could think of.”

“Hmmm—” Melissa tapped her chin thoughtfully, “—so what’s the problem then? Did he do something to upset you?”

“Get real. I hardly know the guy, how could he possibly upset me?” Besides implying that she was some kind of criminal.

“Your poker face might work on anyone else, but not me,” Melissa said.

Whitney frowned, knowing her sister spoke the truth. Somehow, she’d never been able to lie to Melissa, despite her best efforts. That didn’t mean she was going to tell her that she’d almost banged one of her altered subjects tonight. “We just rubbed each other the wrong way.”

Or the right way, depending on how you looked at it.

“And?”

“And that’s it.”

“I’m going to talk to Hicks.” Melissa made a move as if to get off the bed. Whitney’s gut reaction was to stop her. She checked it and leaned back on her elbows, watching as her sister made her way very slowly toward the door.

“I don’t think you want to do that. He’s not in an excellent mood.”

Melissa paused with her hand on the door. “And why wouldn’t he be in a good mood?”

What was the better answer? Tell her sister that they’d rounded second base and slid into third, or that she’d screwed up and let Hicks believe she was some sort of criminal?

“We might have kissed.”

She waited for Melissa’s stern lecture about getting involved with the wrong guy or some other such nonsense, so she was completely shocked when her sister asked, “Was he good?”

Whitney fell back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. No matter how angry she was with the guy, there was no denying he was a good kisser and more. “The best.”

“So why are you angry with him?”

“It’s nothing, really. Don’t worry about that. I want you to tell me more about this experiment— it’s got me curious.” And she needed every bit of information about him that she could gather.

“Don’t you mean that you want to know everything about Hicks?” she asked lightly.

“How enhanced is he, exactly?”