Two of a Kind by Susan Mallery Page A

looked at her. “You were by yourself.”
    “There was always adult supervision. The staff made sure of that.”
    “But no family. No friends.”

There wasn’t any pity in his voice, but she braced herself for it. “I wasn’t in a position to have friends,” she admitted. “I was too young for the other students to relate to and the adults saw me as someone to learn from, not an equal. Some of them were afraid of my intelligence. I became an emancipated minor when I was fourteen. I published papers and wrote a few books to pay the bills. When I was sixteen, I decided I wanted something else.”
    “I knew you’d gone to college when you were young, but I didn’t know...” He trailed off with a sympathetic look on his face.
    “You don’t have to feel sorry for me,” she told him. “I was happy. Yes, I lived a more solitary existence than most, but I’m not sure I would have done any better with a normal upbringing. I’ve had the most extraordinary education.”
    “There’s more to life than what you learn in school.”
    “I agree. Some of the students made an effort. One of them had been a soldier. He was wounded, lost his legs. Getting around was difficult for him, but he never complained. He was nice and funny and treated me like a kid sister.” Her mouth twisted. “He died of complications from his injuries. I was sixteen. The following week I faked my ID and joined the army. I never told them about my various degrees. To them, I was just someone who had enlisted.”
    “How long did that last?”
    She grinned. “Long enough. I was able to fit in. There are rules and I do well with rules. My interest in logistics led to me being assigned to a Special Forces team, and you know the rest.”
    She glanced toward the trees. “I’m sure there are owls in the forest. I wonder if we’ll see any at dusk.”
    “Felicia.”
    She turned to Gideon. His gaze was intense, but she had no idea what he was thinking.
    “I’m fine,” she told him. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
    “Then I won’t.”
    But she wasn’t sure he was telling the truth. More confusing, the idea of him being concerned actually made her happy. Shouldn’t she want a man to believe she was completely self-sufficient? She sighed. Mating rituals were complicated in every species, but with humans, the rules were always changing.
    * * *
     
    GIDEON SLID THE steaks onto plates, and Felicia carried them over to the table. They’d prepared a salad together, and then she’d made a dressing while he’d put the meat on the grill. They sat across from each other as the setting sun cast shadows on the deck.
    She cut into her steak. “Perfect,” she said. “I understand the conditions required to cook food, but I can’t always make the transition from theory to practice. Baking continues to elude me. Consuelo says my flaws keep me likable, but I’m less sure that’s true. Even if nobody likes a know-it-all.”
    He shook his head. “You’re not a know-it-all. It’s an attitude thing.” She was painfully brilliant, but in a way that made sense. With her, it was like being tall, or having perfect pitch. It simply was.
    “I hope you’re right. I want people to like me. That’s one of the appeals of this town. I have friends.” She sighed. “Girlfriends. We have lunch and get drinks together after work.”
    Normal, he thought. What she would have missed while growing up. The army should have offered her the opportunity, but in Special Forces, there weren’t many women. Between her long hours and constant traveling, she wouldn’t have had the chance to find other women to hang with.
    She smiled at him, her green eyes bright with amusement. “You’re a frequent topic of conversation,” she told him. “Women find your voice sexually appealing. Plus they admire your physique when you walk around town.”
    He managed to swallow his bit of steak without choking. “Don’t tell me that.”
    “Why not? It’s true and you