Hot Ice (A Hostile Operations Team Novel - Book 7) by Lynn Raye Harris Page B

pulled off his jacket and draped it over a barstool. Then he leaned on the counter and met her wide-eyed gaze. For some reason, talking to her about his marriage didn’t seem so wrong. Maybe it was because he didn’t know her all that well, or maybe it was because she was upset and he wanted to take her mind off it. Though he still wasn’t sure why he even gave a fuck.
    “Yeah, well, it wasn’t blissful. Not all of it. We gave up when Cammie was five, I think. Then we tried to make it work for her sake. It didn’t.”
    “I’m really sorry.”
    He shrugged. “Wasn’t meant to be. Would have been nice if we’d figured that out before Melissa got pregnant. Never forget the condom, cupcake. You’ll end up with a treasure beyond price, but you’ll also get stuck for life with a person you can’t stand.”
    She licked her lips, and he found himself paying way too much attention to the movement of her tongue.  
    “So you’re recently divorced, then.”
    “For the past six months, yes.” One corner of his mouth lifted in what he knew was a sardonic grin. “It wasn’t the most pleasant of divorces. We fought over everything—and she won custody.”
    Grace reached out and put a hand over his fist on the island. “I’m so sorry.”
    He didn’t remove his hand from hers because he liked the feel of it. He studied the way her skin was so light against his. Her hand was elegant and refined.
    Then he looked up and met her gaze full force. Her pupils widened as he stared at her. He knew he had to look savage. He felt savage. He wanted to savage her—in a good way, of course. A carnal, hot, sexy way.
    He wouldn’t do it. He couldn’t do it.
    “I appreciate that, cupcake.”
    Her breath sucked in. “You are an infuriating man.”
    “Melissa says much the same. Only not so elegantly.”
    Her hand slid away, across the island until she gripped the edge. He wanted to tug her back again.
    “I didn’t mean—” she began.
    “I know.”
    She sighed. “I don’t know you at all, Garrett Spencer. But I think you’re a decent human being. Mostly.”
    He laughed. “And you’re right. Mostly,” he added with a wink.
    She took another bite of her pizza, her teeth ripping into it almost savagely. His cock throbbed. Grace Campbell was passionate. Focused. Frustrated.
    “Tell me about your research,” he said, and she nearly choked again.  
    But she swallowed her water and dropped the pizza into the open box. “It’s not as bad as it sounds.” She ran her fingers through her hair, shook her head as if to shake away doubts or frustrations. “I mean, it is bad, but not really. Not if we act to do something about it.”
    “That’s evasive, Grace. You haven’t yet told me what you’ve discovered.”
    She let out a long, defeated breath. Then she put her elbows on the counter and put her head in her hands. “It sounds so terrible—I know it does. I was researching the genome for the flu virus. H1N1 and the Spanish flu, to be precise. And I… combined them. There is no current human antibiotic response to such a combination…”
    She looked miserable. And he was somewhat astounded. Impressed and horrified, really.  
    “That’s dangerous information to possess.” That kind of information would make her a target for all kinds of extremists and foreign powers if they knew she had it. In the wrong hands, her research would not be a good thing for the world. A chill ran down his spine.  
    If she could do that, what else could she do? That would be the next question on the minds of every scumbag with an agenda. Ebola? West Nile? Smallpox? What the wrong person could do with those as weapons was not a happy thought.
    “I know it. But we’re going to make a vaccine. We’re going to be prepared.”
    “How many people know about this?”
    “Tim, the director—a handful of other scientists. Obviously the media has some clue about something, though they don’t appear to know for certain.”
    “Tim asked you