Okay. That seemed like the truth. Relief wandered through her, considering she’d gotten naked with him the night before, and he now knew her body better than she did. Brock had been very thorough. She stared at the antenna field. “There have to be almost two hundred of those.”
“I guess. I do know the array field is spread over more than thirty acres.” He halted the truck near a wide gate with a guard house.
She leaned to peer around him as two men walked out, both dressed for warm weather, the second guy holding an assault rifle. All right. Serious firepower there.
“ID?” the first guy, a mammoth in a black jacket, asked. Military-issued dark glasses covered his eyes, and a hat covered his head, but he looked to be in his late twenties and held himself like he could fight.
She handed her badge to Brock, and he gave it to the guy, along with his license.
The man disappeared inside the building for a few minutes and then returned to give them their IDs and two badges already on neck lanyards. “Wear these before you approach the main door.”
She took hers and studied it. The black badge hadEVEVisitoremblazoned across it in dark red letters, along with several visible chips and holographic stamps. Impressive for a place in the middle of nowhere that supposedly studied the ionosphere. She pulled the lanyard over her head and settled the badge below her chest. The chips must track them throughout the facility.
Brock tugged his over his head and then drove past the gate and down the long drive to the sprawling cement block and metal building comprised of three stories. Aboveground, anyway.
“Have you been here before?” she asked, lowering her voice for some reason.
“Nope.” He pulled the truck into a parking lot and stopped the engine. “The folks who work here live here and rarely come into town. We don’t cross paths much.”
She held out her badge. “You have to be curious about this. I mean, come on. They study theionosphere?”
He flashed a grin. “I really think they do, and growing up, there were so many scary stories about this place, we stayed away. Sometimes, the scientists pop into town, and they’re all pretty dorky. Not scary.” He opened his door and hustled around to open hers, assisting her down the long distance to the ground.
Her instincts hummed, and she walked with him across the plowed area to the front door, which he opened easily to reveal a large, industrial-looking waiting room. A man waited in front of a metal reception desk with two armed guards sitting behind it. He stood to about six-foot-three and had thick black hair and the darkest green eyes she’d ever seen. His suit looked expensive, his body hard, and his gaze extremely intelligent. There was something familiar about him.
He looked past her to Brock and then smiled. “Hello, brother.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Brock rocked back on his heels and quickly recovered, eyeing his brother. “Damian.” He grasped Ophelia’s arm and strode forward, his mind reeling. “What are you doing here?”
Damian held out a hand. “Special Agent Spilazi? It’s nice to meet you.”
She shook his hand, her gaze going from Brock to Damian and back, her tone hesitant. “You, too.”
He gestured them toward a bank of three elevators. “Let’s go up to my office.”
Brock’s hands heated, but he walked toward the nearest silver-fronted elevator and held his questions until he got his brother alone. What the hell could Damian be doing at EVE? Brock already felt off balance from his too-intense night with Ophelia, and her strawberry scent was driving him crazy again. It had taken all his self-control not to pull over to the side of the road and kiss her on the way.
He’d only had one night with her, one taste, and he needed more with a craving that should cause him concern.
The doors glided open, and the silent ride up bristled with tension. Damian led the way through a small waiting area anddown a long hallway with thick carpet to an office in the back corner. He nodded at a woman at the desk outside and opened his door. “Come on in.”
Brock followed Ophelia into a room with concrete walls, mainly steel and glass furnishings, and a wide window facing Knife’s Edge Mountain and the peaks beyond. The office contained no wood except for the desk’s top—a thick wooden slab held up by sharp-cut concrete columns. The room looked industrial, luxurious, and stark.
Damian gestured them away from the desk to a corner with a black leather sofa and two chairs. “Please, have a seat.” He took one of the chairs.
Brock dropped onto the sofa and kept himself between his brother and Ophelia, the sense of being unbalanced pissing him off.
The woman from outside poked her head in. She had to be in her early sixties with salt-and-pepper hair, blue eyes behind glasses, and a no-nonsense look. Her impeccable black suit gave her a refined appearance. “Would you like coffee, tea, water, or any sort of soft drink?”
“It’s cold out,” Damian said. “Please bring coffee, Elisa.”
“Of course.” The woman silently disappeared.
Brock cocked his head, trying to keep his temper from blowing. Nope. Too late. “What the holy fuck are you doing here, Damian?”
Damian sighed. “I’m just getting settled. I planned to call you, but everything happened so fast. I was honorably discharged, offered this job, and had to get up and running within a week. It’s been crazy.”
