Two of a Kind (Fool's Gold #11)

Two of a Kind (Fool's Gold #11)
Susan Mallery



CHAPTER ONE

RATIONAL THOUGHT AND a working knowledge of hand-to-hand combat were useless when faced with the villainous power of the American house spider.

Felicia Swift stood immobilized in the corner of the warehouse, aware of the web, of the arachnid watching her, no doubt plotting her downfall. Where there was one female American house spider, there were others, and she knew they were all after her.

The logical part of her brain nearly laughed out loud at her fears. In her head, Felicia understood that spiders did not, in fact, travel in packs or scheme to attack her. But intelligence and logic were no match for a true arachnophobe. She could write papers, prepare flow charts and even do experiments from now until the next appearance of Halley’s Comet. She was terrified of spiders and they knew it.

“I’m going to back away slowly,” she said in a soft, soothing voice.

Technically, spiders didn’t have ears. They could sense vibration, but with her speaking quietly, there wouldn’t be much of that. Still, she felt better talking, so she kept up the words as she inched toward the exit, always keeping her gaze locked firmly on the enemy.

Light spilled from the open door. Light meant freedom and spider-free breathing. Light meant—

The light suddenly blacked out. Felicia jumped and turned, prepared to do battle with the giant mother-of-all-spiders. Instead she faced a tall man with shaggy hair and a scar by his eyebrow.

“I heard a scream,” he said. “I came to see if there was a problem.” He frowned. “Felicia?”

Because the spiders weren’t enough, she thought frantically. How was that possible?

Fortes fortuna adiuvat.

She tried to rein in her unwieldy brain. Fortune favors the brave? That was helpful how? She had spiders behind her, the man who took her virginity in front of her, and she was thinking in Latin?

Felicia sucked in a breath and steadied herself. She was a logistics expert. She’d never met a crisis she couldn’t organize her way out of, and today would be no exception. She would work from big to small and reward herself by doing the Sunday New York Times crossword in less than four minutes.

“Hello, Gideon,” she said, bracing herself for her hormonal reaction to this man.

He moved closer, his dark eyes filling with emotion. She had never been all that good at reading other people’s feelings, but even she recognized confusion.

As he approached, she was aware of the size of him—the sheer broadness of his shoulders. His T-shirt seemed stretched to the point of ripping across his chest and biceps. He looked lethal but still graceful. The kind of man who was at home in any dangerous part of the world.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

By here, she assumed he meant in Fool’s Gold and not in the warehouse itself.

She squared her shoulders—a feeble attempt to look larger and more in control. Similar to a cat arching its back and raising its fur. But she doubted Gideon was going to be any more intimidated by her than he would be by a hissing tabby.

“I live in town now.”

“I knew that. I meant what are you doing in this warehouse?”

“Oh.”

An unexpected response, she thought, suddenly less sure of herself. A result of the spider encounter. Their powers were far-reaching. She’d planned to avoid any contact with Gideon for several months. Here it was less than five weeks into her plan and they’d run into each other.

“I’m working,” she said, returning her attention to his question. “How did you know I was in town?”

“Justice told me.”

“He did?” Something her business associate hadn’t mentioned to her. “When?”

“A few weeks ago.” Gideon’s mouth curved into a smile. “He told me to stay away from you.”

His voice, she thought, trying not to get lost in the memories of what the sound meant to her. While olfactory recollections were thought to be the strongest, a sound or a phrase could also shift a person back to another time. Felicia had no doubt she could easily be transported by Gideon’s scent; right now she was most concerned about his voice.

He had one of those low, sexy voices. As ridiculous as it sounded, the combination of tone and cadence reminded her of chocolate. Now his voice was a vibration she was sure the spiders could get behind. She should—

Her chin came up as her brain replayed his statement.

“Justice told you to stay away from me?”

Gideon raised one powerful shoulder. “He suggested it was a good idea. After what happened.”

Outraged, she planted her hands on her hips, then thought hitting Justice was a far better idea. Only, he wasn’t there.

“What happened between you and me isn’t his business,” she said firmly.

“You’re his family.”

“That doesn’t give him the right to get in the middle of my personal life.”