“And you think that will improve our working relationship?”

“Perhaps, but that’s not why I’m here, Sydney.” He purposely dropped his voice an octave and leaned closer.

She raised a skeptical brow. “Out with it.”

“I want to get to know you, as a person. As a woman. Not as a reporter.”

She cocked her head and stared at him, the wheels in her mind obviously turning. “For what purpose?”

Bloody hell, was this woman immune to seduction? “Are you always this direct?”

“Are you always this vague?” she countered.

This was becoming a proper mess. He was ill-prepared for pretending interest in a woman while he was actually mad for her—yet hiding his desire. He had to be flirtatious, but no more. But his fierce desire was interfering with his mission. He knew how magical men instinctively found their mates, and he suspected that one kiss would be his doom.

“I’m trying to say that you interest me without you filing a harassment complaint.”

That made her laugh. “I’ll tell you if you cross the line. Interesting how?”

“In just about every way imaginable.” That, he didn’t have to lie about. The lingerie she’d had on earlier told him without a doubt that she’d have a gorgeous body he’d kill to devour. She fascinated him with the wicked sweep of those little auburn brows over sharp brown eyes. The woman brimmed intelligence. The way she asked questions, deduced the truth quickly, but carried herself with undeniable sensuality, all dazzled him, along with her zest. Had he ever attacked each day with such passion? Certainly not since Iraq and being one of the few survivors of his platoon. Perhaps not even since Westin’s death.

“You sound as if you mean more than professionally,” she remarked.

He shrugged, hating the need to be coy. “We work together, so the situation requires caution. I hoped we could . . . get to know each other first, then see if we wanted to pursue more.”

Her eyes narrowed. “This is the first I’ve heard or seen of any interest beyond the professional.”

“I’ve tried to keep unprofessional thoughts to myself at the office.” That was the truth, and hopefully enough for her curiosity.

“You’ve had them?”

Caden chastised himself for underestimating her tenacity. “You’re a beautiful woman.”

“Thank you.” His flattery only sharpened her gaze. “But this seems . . . sudden.”

“I could tell you my first thought after meeting you, but it’s definitely not fit for the office, nor terribly polite.”

Sydney turned sideways, tucking one leg under her and anchoring her arm across the back of the sofa, her fingers so close to his shoulder. If he leaned toward her just a bit, she’d be touching him. The thought blasted heat to his cock.

Then she smiled. “That so? All right, I’ll play. I’ve had similar thoughts.”

“I thought so yesterday. In your office. It was in your eyes.”

“So that’s why you decided to say something?”

“Yes.” It sounded reasonable, though he’d sensed her interest a few days ago.

“What do you think should happen next?”

“We should take it slow,” he murmured. “Get to know each other, then decide if we want to proceed, so we don’t jeopardize our working relationship.”

“Hmm. Very wise and gentlemanly.”

Caden exhaled, hoping she believed him. But one look at her, and he resisted the urge to wince. Something was going on in that head of hers.

“But let me make certain I understand. I’m to believe that you’ve had lascivious thoughts since meeting me, but hid them until you . . . either broke into someone’s filing cabinet to find my address or followed me home, which shows an amazing dedication to seducing me. Then you knocked on my door on a Saturday and looked at me as if you’d like to strip me bare in the foyer. And you did all this so that we could take our relationship slowly? Have I got that right?”

Well, damn. Caden clenched his fists as his brain went into overdrive. Now that she’d seen through his ruse, how did he repair the damage and salvage his mission—without risking their working relationship and his future?

“What I’d like to do and what’s prudent are two different things.”

“Often, yes. But let me tell you what I think is happening here: You insulted Jamie because he’s a slacker, and you object to them as a rule. Very against your military background. You want to be a part of the magickind war story for some reason, and are fixated on my source, and when I refused to let you tag along, you decided to resort to a halfhearted seduction in an attempt to hoodwink me into changing my mind. Is that closer to the truth?”

Dear God. He’d had undercover missions easier than this. Too smart, she was. “No. What’s happening is that I’m far more attracted to a colleague than I’m proud of, and the things I want to do with you would make even your pert little freckles blush. I tried to keep quiet because I need this job, but when I saw it was mutual, I couldn’t hold my desire in. I didn’t mention it at the office because it’s inappropriate there. And as much as I’d like to get you naked in the next three minutes, I don’t want to simply shag you. That wouldn’t help me to know you better. Yes, I’m interested in your source about the magical war story because I understand war, and let’s face it, a woman claiming such things is intriguing. But I’m also not trying to rush you to bed because I don’t want to build artificial intimacy simply to get my way. I want you to choose to make me your partner at the office, regardless of our personal relationship.”

That sounded logical. And a bit too close to the truth.

Sydney sent him a considering stare. “What do you recommend next?”

Caden released the breath he’d been holding. Maybe she believed him. Perhaps. He had to keep to his role. “Lunch?”

“Actually, I was about to toss together a sandwich. You’re welcome to join me.”

“I meant to take you out.”

“Wouldn’t staying here allow for more privacy? If we’re going to get to know each other, that’s much harder in public.”

And much easier for him to put his hands all over her, as he was dying to now. “Whatever you like.”

“Perfect.” She rose to her feet and headed for the kitchen, grabbing ingredients as she dashed about. “Tell me about your parents. Are they still alive?”

He was supposed to be getting to know her, finding ways to make her trust him, not the other way around. “They are, but I was a late-in-life baby. They’re quite elderly. Yours? I want to hear about you.”

“Later.” She waved off his question. “So you’re caring for your brother because your parents can’t?”

“Precisely.”

“Other siblings?”

Not anymore, and not for anything would he drag up that terrible story. “None. You? Any siblings?”

“Only child. Stop changing the subject,” she admonished, opening a jar. “Mustard?”

“Please. I really want—”

“How much older is your brother?”

Three hundred sixty-seven years. He suspected she wouldn’t take that well. “Upwards of a decade.”

“Significant, then. Tell me more about his illness.”

“Lucan is unconscious, they have little idea how to help him, and this isn’t the Inquisition.”

He rose and entered the kitchen. Sydney stood against the counter, spreading mustard on brown bread. He eased up behind her, placed his hands on her hips and whispered against her neck, “I’m here to get to know you.”

With a saucy tilt of her head, she shot him a glance over her shoulder. “As I’ve said, no siblings. My parents are both professors. My mother teaches history at Oxford. My father once taught, but now conducts very important research to help create a purely artificial fuel source.”

Caden winced, and Sydney laughed. “You asked.”

“They sound very serious, indeed.”

“They’re even more so in person, I assure you.”

Something on her face gave Caden pause. “And are they supportive of your career?”

She hesitated. “I’m a bitter disappointment, and I’m reminded of that every time I see them.”

Though Sydney said it laughingly, he could read the pain on her face. She was hurt by their lack of support. It was foolish and stupid and dangerous, but he eased his arms around her. “I think you’re brilliant, and I have no doubt that someday you’re going to be wildly famous for doing exactly what you love.”

“Hmm. Flattery.” She didn’t sound impressed.

But this, he truly meant. She’d wowed him with her very first story. Though she knew nothing about magickind, she’d somehow caught onto the nuances, what was important to the warring factions. “Honesty.”

He longed to kiss her mouth, mere inches from his, taste her, bring her closer to him, ease her pain. Inside, he damned his magical impulses for dangling this temptation in front of him and making her so forbidden. If she was, as he suspected, the mate magic intended for him—no, he couldn’t think about what could be or he’d go mad.

The reality was, he was deep in this magical war. Not only did he want to avoid Lucan’s fate, but he didn’t want to place Sydney in danger. If he kissed her and succumbed to the need to Call to her as his mate . . . he couldn’t bear the thought that, instead of reporting about a woman who had been repeatedly raped by Mathias, she might actually become one.

“Are you going to stare at my mouth or kiss me?”

Caden backed away. “I’m reminding myself to take it slowly. Perhaps I should help with lunch.”

She sighed. “There’s some clementines and crisps in the cupboard.”

After retrieving them, he turned to find Sydney setting up the little bistro-style table in her kitchen. She turned and grabbed two plates piled high with lettuce and fresh tomato. He held the chair for her. Sydney sent a raised brow at him, but sat.

“So,” he said before she could start interrogating him again. “Your parents don’t love what you’ve chosen to do with your life. My guess is that you work very hard to be the best and hope they will someday recognize your genius.”

“Thank you, Dr. Freud.” She sent him a quelling glance. “Something like that. Though I know I can’t live to please them.”

“No adult does, but you hate to disappoint them, right?”

She swallowed her bite of sandwich and peered across the table at him. “You came to get to know me, yet clearly you already do. Perhaps we skip the rest of this silly ‘getting to know you’ crap and go straight to bed?”

CHAPTER THREE

AN HOUR LATER, SYDNEY knew for certain that Caden was following her when she ducked into a little jewelry shop— and he peeked in the window moments later. Not for an instant did she believe that he had window-shopped for a lovely pair of earrings or a belly stud.

In fact, today he had a hidden agenda. After professing his infatuation, what unattached, red-blooded man turned down sex so blatantly offered? Only the kind trying to dupe her. His sneaking after her now merely confirmed her suspicions. The only thing he’d shown genuine interest in since coming to work with her? The magical war story. She suspected that he meant to steal it.

After she’d refused to let him accompany her to visit her source, he turned up on her doorstep and suddenly professed romantic interest. How stupid did he think she was? She’d called his bluff over lunch by inviting him to her bed, figuring she’d determine whether he was feeding her crap or genuinely interested in her. She’d personally hoped for the latter. Though he was a deceitful wanker, he was a sexy one.

His stuttered refusal was his loss. Caden lying about desiring her didn’t hurt. All right, perhaps a bit. But she had to stop thinking with her emotions and get smart. He sought to scoop her, after all.

Over her dead body.

She was going—alone, thank you—to meet the battered witch, listen to more of the woeful tale that tore at her heart, and gather more information for her story. She shoved thoughts of her gorgeous, deceitful photographer aside.

Exiting to the street again, Sydney walked half a block. She’d give Caden credit; she couldn’t see him behind her, but she sensed him. As she rounded a bend in the road, she caught a glimpse of him, pretending interest in a street vendor who shivered in the November chill. He didn’t look her way, but Sydney felt his attention.

Nonchalantly, she proceeded south, hunkering down into her coat until she found the right place. Once spotted, she dodged traffic and crossed the road, then entered a crowded, smoky pub. She sat on a stool near the back, far from the barkeep.

A dozen seconds later, Caden and a stiff breeze blew in. Sydney grabbed a discarded menu and pretended to read.

He wandered along the front of the pub, looking out the windows at the sidewalk, presumably not noticing her. Finally he sat at an empty table in the corner, grabbed a menu—and peered at her over the top. She made a great show of checking her watch and her mobile, fidgeting and squirming.

Finally, a waitress popped by his table. What he ordered Sydney didn’t know or care. Now was her chance.

She rose and headed conspicuously for the toilet. She wished she could see the look on Caden’s face when he realized she wasn’t coming back out. As the door to the loo shut behind her, the thought made her smile.

She’d vanished. Out the window of the loo, he’d guess. Brilliant.

He’d underestimated both her cleverness and determination. Again.

Frustration crept in, and Caden raked a hand through his hair. How the devil could he find her source if she didn’t trust him? But he was also concerned about Sydney. Didn’t the girl realize that she was potentially in danger?

The mobile at his side rang. A glance at the display had him cursing not so softly.

“What?” he snapped.