Sizzle and Burn

abilities with the formula.”
    “And turned her into the perfect woman,” Raine whispered.
    He folded one arm behind his head. “Until she tried to poison me. Amazing how a little thing like that can ruin an otherwise ideal relationship.”
    “Guess there’s just no pleasing some men.”
    Her lips twitched at the corners and the tension inside him eased.
    “Call me picky,” he agreed.
    “You said she tried to kill you because she was afraid you were getting suspicious of her?”
    “Yes.”
    “What was the point? If the plan had failed, why take the risk of murdering a Jones? She must have known J&J and the Council wouldn’t stop until they caught her.”
    “She was desperate. I told you, failure is not an option in Nightshade. The poison she used would have imitated a heart attack. She hoped that if I died of natural causes, her handlers would not hold her responsible.”
    “Tough crowd.”
    “Very tough.”
    Raine pulled her knees up under her chin and wrapped her arms around them. “Does everyone in the Society know what happened between you and Jenna?”
    “No. The entire affair was hushed up by the Master, the Council and J&J. The official story is that my fiancée committed suicide.”
    “Which is the truth,” Raine said.
    “Sort of. As far as I’m concerned, though, Nightshade murdered its own agent.”
    Raine studied him with troubled eyes. “You had one heck of a close call.”
    He smiled grimly. “Perfection isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
    “You really didn’t love her?”
    “I was dazzled for a while,” he admitted. “But eventually I had to face the fact that there was something missing.”
    “It shook your self-confidence, though, didn’t it? Made you question your own intuition.”
    “Yes.”
    She nodded. “In a much less extreme way, that’s what happened to me after the debacle with Bradley. I keep wondering how I could have convinced myself that he was Mr. Perfect.”
    He reached up and caught her wrist. “You’re sure he’s not?”
    She smiled. “Not a doubt in my mind.”
    He tugged her gently down onto the bed and levered himself up on his elbow.
    “No doubt in my mind, either,” he said.
    He lowered himself along the soft, warm length of her.
    He made love to her slowly in the dawn light, savoring the sheer pleasure of watching her eyes grow hot and unfocused with passion. When she turned to molten fire in his arms he sank deeply into her. Her legs closed around him and the bedroom was suddenly filled with the effervescent energy of life.

Thirty-eight
    T hey ate vibrant red raspberries with their whole wheat toast and peanut butter. Zack made coffee for himself. Raine prepared tea and privately concluded that it was one of the finest meals of her entire life, maybe the best. She knew she would treasure forever the warmth and intimacy that pervaded the kitchen.
    “You know,” Zack said, munching a bite of toast, “I think I could get used to peanut butter for breakfast.”
    She could certainly get used to seeing him sitting across from her at the breakfast table, she thought. A pang of wistfulness whispered through her. Don’t go there .
    The doorbell rang an hour later, just after she put the last of the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher.
    “I’ll get it,” Zack said, setting down his coffee cup. “It’s probably Mitchell. He must have heard about the incident at the club last night.”
    She straightened. “I thought he said something about driving up to Shelbyville today.”
    “Maybe he changed his mind.”
    Robin and Batman trotted after Zack, evidently anticipating another new game.
    She listened to the sound of the front door being opened. Zack greeted someone. The next thing she heard was a woman’s voice, charming and vivacious.
    “Oh, how cute,” the woman said warmly. “I adore cats.”
    “I’m allergic to them,” a second woman stated.
    She walked into the living room. A petite woman in snug black jeans, high-heeled boots and a black turtleneck stood chatting with Zack. She had delicate, elegantly fashioned features and vivid eyes. Her face was framed by a wild mane of amber brown curls. A large chunk of turquoise hanging from a silver chain reflected the color of her eyes.
    “Cassidy Cutler,” she said to Raine before Zack could explain who she was. She waved a hand at the woman standing a little behind her. “And this is my assistant, Niki Plumer.”
    “How do you do, Miss Tallentyre,” Niki Plumer said. She eyed