Dawn Endeavor 1: Fallon's Flame by Marie Harte (best love novels of all time TXT) 📗

you all later. Olivia, five o'clock sharp. Don't be late.” She left them in a well of quiet.

“I hate reading,” Gunnar grumbled. “It's going to be a long day. I can just feel it.” Jesse drank the rest of his coffee and carried his cup to the sink. He grabbed his stack of material and headed for the door with a salute to the others.

Jules stood. “Fallon—”

“Gotta get busy. Talk to you later, Jules.” He disappeared in a flash.

Jules didn't say anything, but the dark expression on his face promised problems for Jesse.

She felt bad for him, but at the same time, she appreciated not having to trip over herself in his presence. At least now she could eat, then disappear up to her room to study. She took the stack of material Jules handed her as he passed them out to his team.

“Bastard's fast; you have to give him that.” Gunnar sighed long and loud as he traipsed over to the couch across the living room and sat down. He propped his gigantic feet—still bare—

up on the coffee table and opened the folder. “Wish I could disappear too.”

“Don't we all,” Kisho murmured.

Gunnar shot him a finger, which Kisho ignored. He sat next to his friend and began to read.

Olivia finished her meal in silence, aware of Jules's scrutiny. She had no intention of telling anyone what she and Jesse had shared; what it had felt like to fly so free. Her experience with a virtual stranger had been the best sexual experience of her life. How pathetic did that make her? The queen of easy, and desperate to boot.

Now depressed and eager to be alone, she shoveled her food into her mouth, poured herself a cup of coffee, and took it and her folder with her back to her room. Time to get to work.

Five o'clock rolled around all too soon. She'd enjoyed the sandwich Melissa brought her for lunch. But all this good eating made her realize she'd better start exercising or she'd turn into a dumpling. Good genes afforded her a slender though toned frame, but she didn't take anything for granted. She planned to take a jog after her meeting with Mrs. Sharpe. No time like the present for good health.

On her way to her meeting, she dwelled on what she now knew. The laboratory responsible for the manufacture of this drug had secret funding. Nothing linked it to another government, and the consensus Mrs. Sharpe's information gathering had come to suggested that an independent contractor was out to make some serious money. From what Admiral London and his investigative team had put together, criminals within the United States had kidnapped a senator and several key personnel privy to the new psychic program. What the mastermind behind the stolen information decided to do with it was anyone's guess.

While the admiral worked on his own damage control, several South American sources pooled together intelligence on details about the lab. Some of the material she'd read had been in Portuguese, and she now knew much more about their contact and a Colonel Montaña than she wanted to. The head of the laboratory's security had a sadistic streak a mile wide. Good thing she had no intention of going to the lab. She crossed her fingers, worried about jinxing herself.

A quick peek at her watch showed her to be five minutes early for the meeting as she arrived at Mrs. Sharpe's office.

Ava left the room, muttering under her breath, and hurried down the hallway.

“Come on in, Olivia.”

The woman must have had the ears of a bat, because the door obscured her view of the hallway. Olivia entered and shut the door behind her.

“Please, sit down.” Mrs. Sharpe poured her a cup of coffee fixed just the way she liked it.

Just another odd quirk to add to the woman's growing list.

Impressed the woman noted even minute details, Olivia thanked her, sat in the chair next to her, and accepted the cup with gratitude. “Just what I needed, a caffeine boost.”

“I figured. The folder I gave you is quite thick. While I prefer electronic means for disseminating information, this was simply quicker since Admiral London couriered the information this morning.”

Olivia wondered about that.

“Not personally, of course.” Mrs. Sharpe's lips twitched. “He's rather busy at the moment.”

“Oh right.”

“So what do you think about all this?”

Olivia hadn't expected a personal conversation. She'd anticipated questions and answers about what she'd read, so it took her a moment to answer. “I'm a bit overwhelmed, if you want the truth.”

“Does the nature of who you're working with bother you?”

“Not really. Maybe because they still seem pretty normal, except for being so big and, ah, masculine.” She blushed as Jesse's image flashed in her mind. “I mean, well, they're an intimidating group, but they've been nice to me thus far.” More than nice.

Mrs. Sharpe sipped from her own cup. “They can be boisterous, demanding, aggressive, and when it comes to Gunnar, annoying, yet they wouldn't harm an innocent to save their lives. I read people for a living, and I can tell you, I've never met a finer group than these men.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “But don't tell them that. I don't want their heads to get any bigger than they are now.”

Olivia chuckled.

“I want you to be comfortable around them, to trust them. But I'm a realist. Trust comes with time. Unfortunately we don't have a lot of that. The original plan was for us to fly our contact out here, let you interrogate him, then send you home. Plans changed. You're going to fly down to Brazil and help our team learn from our contact where to go. Once you get us the information we need, you'll be on a plane ride home. Jules has convinced me that using you as a control is just too dangerous. This way we'll minimize risk to you while affording our team the assistance they need. I want