Banging the Superhero

www.nobleromance.com Banging the Superhero ISBN 978-1-60592-156-3 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Banging the Superhero Copyright 2010 Rebecca Royce Cover Art by Fiona Jayde This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any existing means without written permission from the publisher. Contact Noble Romance Publishing, LLC at PO Box 467423, Atlanta, GA 31146. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The characters are products of the author's imagination and used fictitiously. Book Blurb Ace Hudson has worked for his brother, Draco, at Powers, Inc. since it opened. Spending his days trying to balance his job with taking care of his teenage brother, Lael, he uses his nights to overcome the overabundance of adrenaline in his body that makes him lose control. He also has a secret crush on a celebrity chef who makes home-cooked meals look sexier than anything he has ever seen. Alice Styles runs an empire based on her ability to make people want to eat what she cooks. When she is nearly killed on live television in a situation straight out of one of her childhood nightmares, she reluctantly asks Ace Hudson to help keep her safe. Starting out with instant dislike and finding their way to mutual pleasure, Ace and Alice do not have an easy path to love. But their egos and personal barriers are nothing compared to the looming threat just waiting for a moment to possess Alice.

Chapter One Ace Hudson flew through the open front door of his brother, Draco's, house at exactly seven o'clock at night. As soon as he landed on the front hallway floor, he took off his shoes as his sister-in-law, Wendy, had instructed him to do about a thousand times now, and lined them up in the corner of the room by the front hall closet. Sighing, he loosened his tie and wondered how his life had become so mundane. He was a Superhero. Shouldn't he be doing exciting things? Taking down bad guys? Rocking somebody's rotten world? "I still can't get over you in a suit and tie." Ace looked up to catch the amused expression of his younger brother, Lael, who stood leaning against the wall, drinking a can of soda. If Wendy had been home, she'd have corrected the teenager for not using a glass, but since Wendy and Draco had tied the knot and departed on their honeymoon, Ace was left to take care of these issues with his younger bro. Ace decided not to utter a word. Maybe Lael's behavior was an act of rebellion against all the new rules in the house. Maybe Ace just thought that at sixteen Lael should be able to drink from the can without being told not to. He shrugged. Either way, he just didn't care. "Yeah, well, you know, now that I'm the face of the new Powers, Inc. I have to look the part." Or at least that's what Draco had told him when he'd taken him out to get fitted for suits. Lael nodded, straightened and walked to the living room. Ace stared at the teenager's feet, glad to see him in his socks. As if Wendy and the floor had some kind of communal relationship, she knew if anyone had walked on it wearing shoes anytime since the dawn of time. He might have had to correct Lael if he'd still had on his sneakers. "I ordered us pizza." Ace nodded and followed his half-brother into the living room, noting, with

some disgust, that the kid was watching cartoons again. Not just any cartoons either, no, he had a superhero program blaring from the set. "Are you going to outgrow this sometime soon?" Lael laughed. "Are you going to cut your hair?" "Touché." The answer was no. He'd never cut his hair, no matter how long the blond mane had gotten, and he probably never would. It was his signature. People who saw him and his long locks floating in the wind as he flew over New York City knew it was none other than Ace Hudson. Everyone had been after him to at least trim it. Everyone, of course, being Draco and the image consultant he'd hired to get whip Ace into shape, appearance-wise, so he looked more like the head of a corporation. Presumably, Draco had put Ace in charge of the company so Draco could devote himself to taking care of and helping to mend Lael's psyche. Yet, here Ace was, running Powers, Inc. and hanging out with Lael. Something seemed a little off . . . . Throwing himself down on the couch, he picked up the remote before Lael could object. If his brother wanted to waste his time watching Superman and Batman save the world, he could do it on his own time. From seven o'clock in the evening on, Ace got to control the remote control in the living room. Truth was, Ace didn't need to use the remote at all. With his unique super power, he could speak to machines, and they did as he commanded. If he'd wanted to, he could even change the channel when he was a mile away from the house. But that was rude. And his Mama had raised him better than that. Stopping finally on the Food Channel, he leaned back into the cushions. If he was lucky, he got to catch the end of Alice Styles' program every night when he got home. Tonight, he'd have fifteen full minutes to watch her, "show the world what she's making for dinner." Unlike other cooking shows, Alice's was broadcast live. If she made a mistake—which she rarely did—the audience got to see it. That took guts, in Ace's

mind. The woman had a lot of confidence in her skills. Lael plopped down next to him and rolled his eyes. "Again?" "Yep." "I'd accuse you of having a crush on her if she wasn't so old." Ace glared at Lael. Alice Styles is not old. She was probably not a day over thirty— exactly Ace's age—and quite possibly, even younger. Lately, it seemed everyone over twenty years of age earned the label "old" from the sixteen-year-old. Ace had lusted after Alice Styles for months, ever since he'd first seen her on television. His sister-in-law had put her on one evening and he'd been hooked. Not that he would ever meet her. No, she wasn't the type of woman who frequented the establishments he did. Somehow, he couldn't imagine her with her fastened-in-a–bun, brown hair and her buttoned-to-the-neck, white blouses donning leather and getting it on to loud, booming, techno music. He could picture it now. Alice, wearing only her apron—the black one that didn't quite make it around her curvy, supple ass—her boobs peeking up just slightly from underneath as she moved and swayed on the dance floor. Her chestnut brown hair hanging loose, flowing every which way. He'd glide up behind her . . . she'd just know it was him, because who else would dare touch her on the dance floor when they knew she was his girl . . . and she'd turn to him. In her sexiest voice, which he'd hear with his superpower hearing over the music, she'd say, "Give it to me, Ace." And he'd do as she asked, right there, on the dance floor . . . and his superpower wouldn't hurt her. She'd be able to take him and enjoy him, all of him. "Dude! Check it out." Lael's voice ripped Ace from his sexual fantasy and he squirmed on the couch, attempting to hide the hard-on he'd got just from thinking about the cooking show hostess. Lael stared at Ace. "What?" "The machines!" Lael shouted. "They're flying everywhere!" Turning to the television, Ace saw his brother was right. Alice's cooking

equipment flew around her studio kitchen. She shrieked and hit the ground. The toaster detached itself from the wall, flying forward, its cooking tray opening and closing like a giant mouth threatening to eat her Just as suddenly, the blender whirred to life unaided, a dark concoction she'd been making spewing out all over the room. "Help me!" As Alice shrieked, Ace jumped to his feet, still staring at the television. "How far away is that studio?" If the program was filmed in California, he might already be too late. His range was around one mile, two, at best, for controlling machines. Hell, why was he asking the kid? "They film in New York; one of our Communication classes went on a field trip there." Communication classes? That was quite a high school his little brother attended. Back in Ace's day, students were lucky if the teacher showed for English. Narrowing his eyes, he concentrated on the machines attacking Alice—there was no doubt someone commanded them to do just that—and he pushed his energy forward. He could do the same with any machine as long as it was within communication range and he could see it, even if just on television. He spoke aloud to the toaster first. "Relax." It was odd; usually machines such as these were controlled by remote. Ace simply had to cut off the connection to the remote. This time, however, the signal seemed different. "Wow." He laughed. Someone controlled the machine and not electronically. In the same way he communicated with machines using his mind, someone manipulated them. He fought, from a distance, with someone who possessed a similar power. This had never happened before. Not ever. He grinned, enjoying the challenge. Whoever made the other machines move must have been as startled as Ace was because he or she—Ace wasn't sure—faltered, and he managed to break the link to the

machines. Both the toaster and the blender dropped to the floor. Dead. Alice continued to shriek. Ace blinked. Why hadn't the station gone to commercial? Lael stood, his mouth gaping open like a landed fish, as he alternated gawking between Ace and the television set. "I guess she's lucky she wasn't using an electronic knife." Ace nodded, distracted. It bugged him they hadn't cut to a break. What was going on down at that studio? Alice pulled herself up, covered in the brown concoction she'd been making. She was the most disheveled he'd ever seen her. But then he saw her only on television or in photo shoots. "Um." Alice cleared her throat. She sounded more hoarse than usual, which was impressive, considering voice-wise, most of the time she gave Kathleen Turner a run for her money. "I'm not really sure what just happened. Let's get a word from our sponsors and we'll come right back." Finally, the screen changed to a commercial, a scene of a woman holding a baby wearing a "different type of diaper". Ace swore before he realized he still stood next to Lael. Looking at his brother, Ace grinned. "Sorry about swearing." Lael shrugged. "I've heard it all before." "Doesn't mean I should talk that way around you." Lael pointed to the screen. "Who made that happen?" "I don't know." Ace kicked the side of the couch, gently. Still, he managed to make a hole in it using the tip of his foot alone. Damn—he was going to be in trouble when Draco and Wendy returned. He jumped from foot-to-foot. This was the problem with his powers. They required so much physical energy to control that to use them at all meant he needed an outlet in which to channel them. Exercise was becoming a less and less effective tool. "Feel like flying down to that studio and finding out what happened?"

He glanced at Lael. If his brother wanted to stay here and eat the pizza that was coming, that's what they would do. He would find a way to make tonight work, somehow. Lael smiled and, for a second, Ace had to shake his head in awe. It was Draco's smile. Sometimes when he looked at the kid, he caught an expression that was similar to one he himself would make, but most of the time there was nothing but Draco in him. They were an odd family, but family nonetheless. "Does that grin mean yes?" "Really, you'd bring me with you?" "Don't tell Draco." Without another word, he floated upwards. "Besides, if I don't teach you how not to bang into everything whenever you take to the skies, who will?" Moving forward, he hovered for a second as he opened the front door. "Follow me." Ace had to give Lael credit. He kept up even if his flying was sloppy. If Ace flew straight up, Lael zagged a bit before finding his path. As far as Ace could remember, he hadn't had that problem learning to fly. But then he'd been doing it since he was three years old to keep up with Draco. Lael had all but suppressed his powers, not knowing what the bizarre feelings were. They moved together, Ace following the path his mind had taken to control the machines, until they landed outside the studio door. Lael stumbled and would have fallen, but Ace steadied him at the last minute. Grinning, he gazed at his younger brother. "Great. We'll work on the landings." Lael's face turned red and Ace glanced away to give him a moment. Moving forward, he strode through the door to the studio. Two guards rose as he walked in. "Sir, I'm going to need to see some identification," one guard said. "Should you be here?" The other guard turned toward the first one. "I don't recognize him." He spun back to Ace. "You can't just walk in."

Ace nodded, pulling out his business card. "Tell your boss it's Ace Hudson from Powers, Inc., and I just stopped the machines in there from killing one of your hosts. He's going to want to see me." The guard visibly swallowed as he picked up the phone. Inwardly, Ace shrugged. Most people knew him on sight—he'd been featured in enough tabloids to make that happen—but if someone didn't recognize him immediately, the person almost always felt terribly uncomfortable. Long ago, he'd decided intimidation was a good thing. When people feared you, they tended to get out of your way and let you do what you wanted. "I thought he was going to wet himself when he figured out who you were." Ace nodded at Lael's whispered remark. "I did too." The guard hung up the phone. Looking up, the grey-haired, forty-somethingyear-old man smiled at Ace with what Ace long ago recognized as hero worship. "Mr. Hudson, if you would just walk to those elevators." The man's hand shook as he pointed down the hallway. "If you and your sidekick would sign in first, Mr. Grayson McDowell, Alice Styles' producer, is waiting for you on the fifth floor." Lael raised an eyebrow. "His sidekick?" "Shut up and sign in." Ace moved forward and did as instructed. Lael followed, even as he grumbled about doing it. Ace wasn't sure if his brother had an issue with having to sign his name or with being referred to as Ace's sidekick. In any case, if he didn't stop complaining he could stay outside and wait while Ace dealt with this. They finally arrived on the fifth floor, which took much more time than it should have. Apparently this was one of those buildings where the elevators stopped on every floor regardless of whether someone pressed the button to call it or not. Ace decided he'd have a little chat with the damn thing on the way down and make it go straight from the fifth floor to the first. "It would be faster if we flew." "Faster, yes." Ace nodded. "But showing up at the windows of people who don't

expect us tends to either freak them out or to piss them off. I'm in the mood for neither." The elevator doors opened, they stepped out together, and were accosted immediately. "Mr. Hudson! This is an honor, sir." Ace smiled. "You're Grayson McDowell, I presume." McDowell appeared to be in his late thirties, with just a touch of gray lining parts of his hair. His face was long, his eyes wide, and he carried twenty pounds on him he needed to exercise off. As he held out his right hand to Ace, his left hand shook. Ace pretended not to notice. "I am and I can't tell you how relieved I was when the guard called upstairs and informed me you were here and that you had stopped the machines. It cleared up a lot for us. But I had no idea why they began or even less of a clue why they ceased. Needless to say, Alice is very shaken up." Ace nodded as he took the man's hand. "I stopped it. I didn't start it. I don't know who made those machines move like that." To attack her, he wanted to say but didn't. It was best to assess who was in charge here before he made anyone crazed. "If you have a moment, since you came down to the studio, perhaps you could take a look around?" "I don't need to do that." Lael spoke from behind him. "And he can't unless you pay him. It's the rule at Powers, Inc. Superheroes don't work for free." "Oh, I see." Grayson narrowed his eyes. "All right, well, let's go see Ms. Styles and see what she says about engaging your services." There were lots of things Ace had wanted to do to Alice Styles and her hot, full body since he'd first seen her show—none of his thoughts had to do with her engaging his services anywhere but in the bedroom. Lael walked up next to him. "Are you going to ask her for her autograph?" "No." Ace gritted his teeth. He really wished Lael hadn't remarked about the payment. Truth was, there

were times when he did jobs for free and didn't tell Draco about it. If someone couldn't pay, it didn't mean they didn't need help. Also, how much money they had was never as important to Ace as to Draco. They turned the corner and stepped over the threshold into a large dressing room. The open door had a star and the word Styles stenciled on the outside. Inside was chaos. Three women raced through the room, throwing clothes into suitcases. A man holding a hairbrush paced in front of a mirror, while Alice Styles sat calmly, practically statuesque, in a chair, flipping through a gossip magazine. Ace froze. He couldn't move no matter how he tried, as if his feet were glued to the floor. Even with the abundance of disorder in the room, Alice's still figure held every ounce of his attention. Without glancing up, she spoke to Grayson. "I told you. I'm not coming back until whoever was responsible for that stunt is put behind bars. I might have been killed—or at the very least badly burned—by that toaster." "Well, I have good news. I've found you someone who can help." He'd found her someone to help? Ace almost pointed out that he'd shown up on his own without an invitation from anyone, but then Alice spoke again and all he wanted, instead, was to listen to those sultry tones speak some more. "You left five minutes ago. That was fast." She closed the magazine and for the first time regarded Ace. He swallowed through the dryness invading his mouth, the same tension that threatened to overwhelm his entire body. The television didn't do her eyes justice. Usually, he thought them just a pretty brown. But, no, her eyes were deep chestnut and her gaze was strong. From that gaze, he concluded one of two things had happened. She either had no idea who he was or she knew and she didn't think very highly of him. Other than raising an eyebrow, she didn't move an inch. "This is supposed to be my help?" "Yes, Ms. Styles. This is Ace Hudson, the owner and President of Powers, Inc."

Technically, Draco was the owner, but Ace felt no need to correct the misconstrued opinion. Whatever it took to earn this woman's respect, he was willing to do. But her cool indifference remained, and Ace's ire rose with each passing moment. "The Superheroes?" Finally, Ace had to speak. "That's right. I stopped those machines from killing you from about a mile away. Any idea why someone would want you dead?" She threw the magazine onto the floor. Now her eyes appeared heated and angry. "That's a preposterous notion. Yes, I could have been seriously maimed, or possibly died, considering what happened, but I'm sure it was nothing more than a prank gone wrong. I certainly don't need to hire professional help to solve it. I've already told Grayson to look into it." Grayson stuttered. "Alice . . . ." Ace interrupted. "I'm afraid if Grayson could figure out who was strong enough to do something like that, to control those machines using only his or her mind, he'd probably be dead immediately afterward. Don't minimize this. Make no mistake, whoever pulled your so-called prank intended to kill you." Alice shot to her feet. "How do I know you didn't do it?" Ace had the sudden urge to throw something—at her. Where was the sweet lady who made bread pudding in half an hour on television? This woman was the worst kind of shrew. "I assure you, I have better things to do," he said. "He flew all the way here after he rescued you. He's a fan. He watches you every night." Lael stepped forward, red faced, his hands fisted at his side. Ace wished he could throw the teenager out the window. Damn. He appreciated the kid stepping up to defend him, but why did Lael have to tell her that? Her voice came out totally bland. "How nice, a fan." "Okay, I'm leaving. You're welcome, by the way. It was no trouble at all saving your ungrateful ass." Ace whirled around. He needed to put up with this as much as he needed to get

blown to bits and put back together again. Besides, Powers, Inc. had way too much work lined up. The government was calling, missiles were aimed at the United States, rich aristocrats had missing pieces of jewelry, a madman had a vendetta against the makers of bubble wrap . . . and his brother was on his honeymoon for another two weeks. This incident proved a good thing, though. At least now, he didn't have to waste his time watching her make spaghetti and thinking about how hot she would look going down on him. Alice might be attractive, but she was mean as a snake. Fuck that. "Oh, Mr. Hudson." Ace stopped moving and turned. Alice settled back into her seat with a look of boredom. "The next time you and Boy Wonder there decide to leave the house, perhaps you'll put on more attractive socks." He looked at his feet. He'd never put back on his shoes before he'd left the house. Ace whipped around, grabbed Lael by the arm, and headed toward the exit before anyone noticed the heat that had flushed his face all the way to the tip of his ears. What a suckass night this turned out to be. Chapter Two Alice Styles wanted to vomit. In truth, she'd never been so terrified in her life. When the toaster had flown at her head, it had been like her worst nightmare come true. As a child, she'd had bad dreams starring various household appliances ending her life. Now here she was actually at risk of having it happen. She bit down on her lower lip as Ace Hudson, the single most sexiest man she had ever seen, sauntered out of the room with a promising sway of his tight rear end. Somehow, he looked even hotter in person than he did in the gossip magazines. There really was no excuse for her level of rudeness.

She knew it. Even as a child she'd been unable to react appropriately when afraid. Anything not to seem vulnerable. She knew she behaved badly during fearful situations yet she was completely powerless to control her response. She'd have to write him an apology letter or some such thing. Shaking her head, she pushed the thoughts from her mind. She deal with it later. After she'd gone home, bathed, and set her mind into a better mental space. Then she'd apologize to Ace Hudson and fire the idiot responsible for making her look like a fool on television. Why hadn't they stopped filming when the machines went nuts? She stood. "I'm going home." With that said, she stalked from the room, knowing her entourage would follow. It's what she paid them to do. Once upon a time, she might have thought the group went with her because they were her family and they loved her. Now, she knew better. Her cousins, otherwise known as her personal assistants, all but hated her guts because they couldn't get any of the networks to look at their screenplay and thought she should be doing more to help them. She would—if the script wasn't so goddamned awful. Her stylist, Paul, was her brother's husband and had been family for ten years. These days both he and her brother thought she didn't pay him enough. In reality, she paid him more than he was worth, and she could replace him, immediately, for someone who would do a better job for less money. But nothing she ever did seemed enough these days. Finally, there was Grayson. Good old Uncle Gray, who had told her on her twentieth birthday not to call him the endearing term any longer. Their business relationship trumped their familial status. Ten years in the entertainment industry and she'd learned more than she wanted to about what it meant to employ family. She liked none of it. But family was family, so she kept them employed.

Storming through the hall to the elevators, she sensed her already short fuse spark to life. After punching the button more than once, she realized as she waited that the elevator was also a machine. She'd nearly been bludgeoned to death by a runaway gang of appliances not one hour earlier. Now she was going to get inside a machine that literally held her life in its compartment? No-frickin-way. Without turning, she backed away from the elevator to the stairwell. "I feel like walking tonight." She would never admit, especially not to the crowd of backstabbers who called themselves her family, just how frightened she was. Exaggerated accounts of her statements would end up in the gossip magazines. Lord knew her mug would show up in them plenty after this crazy incident, without adding flame to the fire. Pushing open the door to the stairwell with more force than needed, she felt an extra bit of joy when it banged against the wall. Hell, this was a good idea. Maybe she should take the stairs every day. It could be her cardio workout. She might work the extra ten pounds off her hips that kept the magazines and bloggers dubbing her "fat" or, slightly better but meaning the same, "curvy." Not that walking down the stairs was exactly the same thing as walking up them. She'd have to see if she did that tomorrow morning—assuming she came into the studio and didn't decide to hide under her covers away from any and all electrical appliances. Forcing tonight's fiasco out of her mind, she decided to focus on another issue she could fix: her weight. Her biggest problem was she simply liked food and not only the stuff she cooked on her show. No, those dishes were designed for working parents, to teach them how to put on a decent meal in little time and on a tight budget. Her cookbooks and one-hour specials were the same. She was proud of them. But at home, wow, when she had time, she'd put on a feast that she'd be proud to serve to royalty. Considering the amount of time she spent alone lately, she'd had nothing to do but to cook for herself. And then eat. So screw them all if they didn't like her body. She was a cook, for goodness sake!

Was she supposed to also look sickly thin? She growled under her breath on her way down the stairs. Maybe she gave off a vibe that warned "stay away" because her family stayed a few stairwells above her, at all times. Rolling her eyes, she stopped walking and turned around. "I want all of you to go home. Just go home. Don't follow me. I'll see you tomorrow." Grayson called down to her. "Do you think that's a good idea considering what happened?" "What's the worst that could happen? You could find me dead?" Silence met her query and she wanted to throw something. Great. Taking the steps two at a time, she decided they were all fired. Every last one of them. If only her mother wouldn't lay into her for doing so. Truth was, Alice would never hear the end of it. But really? At what point did she stop caring what her mother thought? Finally, reaching the lobby, she pushed open the door with less force than she'd used to open the door to the stairwell. People in the lobby didn't need to witness her throw a temper tantrum. Keeping her head held high, she walked out of the building not looking at anyone except to smile to the guard who tipped his hat to her. He was always polite. The rest of the numbskulls who worked there, who whispered whenever she walked through the hall or talked about her to the other hosts, well, they didn't deserve her time, let alone an acknowledgment on a night like the one she'd just endured. She stepped out onto the street and the sounds of New York City wrapped around her, numbing her mind in the best possible way. Out here, with so much going on, so many people leading their lives, playing heroes in their own stories, Alice couldn't get lost in her thoughts—even if she'd wanted. On the miles of sidewalk, with its scored cement flowing around her as she passed, she could lose herself in the hugeness of it all and feel very small. Until the first camera went off in her face.

Momentarily startled by the bright light, which caused stars to appear before her eyes, Alice almost fell backwards. She was mortified. The photographers usually didn't wait for her outside the studio. Home, yes. But snapping pictures of her walking in and out to her car wasn't something that got the freelancers paid really well. Perhaps having your life nearly ended by a toaster meant that photographs of you walking out of a building paid higher amounts. Trying to smile through gritted teeth, she stepped into the car waiting for her and nodded to Dugan who held open the door. Her driver, Dugan, took her to and from the studio every day. He was one of the perks of the job and the only person on her payroll who wasn't related to her. As he climbed into the front seat, she smiled at him in the rearview mirror. "Dugan, if this car acts strangely, please pull over right away. I'm sure what happened inside was a prank. But we can't be too careful." He nodded his bald head and smiled. "Yes, ma'am." "And would you mind closing the divider tonight?" "Whatever you'd like." She watched in silence as the barrier between she and Dugan raised. Unable to stop the barrage of emotions that overwhelmed her, she put her head in her hands and wept. Someone had tried to kill her today, whether they'd meant it as a joke or not. The incident served only to illuminate how completely alone in the world she really was, even in the midst of a crowd. ***** Alice had soaked in the hot water of her filled-to-the-rim bathtub for half-anhour and still felt no better. The house was quiet—almost too quiet. Finally, giving into the need to move, she stood, flipping the lever to empty the tub on her way out.

She reached for the towel to dry off and walked to retrieve her bathrobe when it dawned on her she didn't have to get dressed if she didn't feel like it. She was completely alone in her house. She grinned from ear-to-ear at the thought. How decadent. How risqué. Her stomach grumbled, reminding her she hadn't eaten, and an even more appealing thought than walking around the house naked thrust itself into her brain. If she wanted to, she could cook naked. Why not? No one would ever know. She rushed through the house glancing left and right as she did, as if someone might jump out at her and scream, "Naked-naked, I see you naked." Okay, she had to admit that perhaps her ultra-conservative background reared its head since her near death experience earlier. The windows were all shut, the drapes pulled, and the doors locked. No one was in the house. She really needed to relax. If she was going to do this, she needed to enjoy it or not do it all. Standing in her newly renovated kitchen, she looked around, unsure of what to do first. She hadn't really thought this scenario through and the nudity did nothing to help her plan her meal. Conceding to herself that this was really not going to work, she rushed to the kitchen linen closet and pulled out one of her aprons. It was a plain white design with small flowers surrounding the edges. Her paternal grandfather had passed down the apron to her when he'd died. Shrugging, she decided she could maintain some of her dignity, while still being naughty by wearing nothing underneath her apron. Now, to decide what she wanted to eat . . . . Eggs. Far from glamorous. Not difficult to make. But for Alice, eggs were comfort food. She even knew how she wanted to cook them: scrambled. Walking to the cabinet directly to the left of the stove, she pulled out her cast iron

skillet. It was going to be a mess to clean up. Usually, she didn't use the cast iron for such simple things, but she was treating herself. The extra work in cleaning would be worth it. The seasoned pan would add flavor to her eggs. After placing the pan on the stove, she moved to the fridge, singing a little ditty her grandmother had taught her; the lyrics had something to do with a lady waiting for her true love to sweep her off her feet. Ultimately, for Alice's life, it was bullshit. Prince Charming had not shown up. She'd be happy at this point with a frog, considering the amount of snakes she'd gone out with lately. But like the eggs, the song comforted her, and she found herself feeling better already. She took out the carton of eggs, placed it on the counter and shut the fridge. At the small noise from behind her, she froze. What was that? Was someone in the house? She swallowed a squeak of fear and discovered her mouth had gone completely dry. If someone was in the house then, right at this very second, they were privy to an eyeful, starting with her bare ass, which had been left uncovered by the apron. Fisting her hands at her side, she mustered the courage to turn around. This was her house. She'd be damned if she'd allow herself to be spooked. She whirled around screaming a very unladylike, "Ahh," at the top of her voice. Darting left and right, she scanned the kitchen, even strained to see the living room, located directly to the left of her cooking area. Nothing. No one was there. "Shit." "Alice, cut it out; you have to calm down. It was a freak thing, nothing to get yourself worked up about at home. This is your safe zone. Make your eggs." She spoke aloud, feeling like the sound of her voice seemed out of place in her all-too-quiet kitchen. But some things needed to be said and not just thought. Even if only you heard the words, they still warranted the effort. Feeling better after her self-delivered pep talk, she went back to the process of

making her eggs. Just as she reached for the pan, the gas on the stove ignited on the burner, nearly searing her hand. She jumped back. What the hell? She hadn't lit the burner yet. Gasping, she spun around as a strange noise sounded behind her. The refrigerator door opened and closed—opened and closed. Oh god, this was like what happened at the studio, only it had been the mixer and the toaster, instead of the stove and the fridge. At once, all five burners lit, blazing to life. She took another step back and whirled around. Instinct told her to run from the house at top speed. Instead, she forced herself to stay where she was even as her hands shook. She couldn't just walk out. The house might burn down. She needed to do . . . something. But what? She bit her bottom lip as she contemplated charging out the front door. Turning on her heel, she ran for the basement. She had to turn off the gas in order to prevent a disaster, and she needed to hurry. She flipped on the basement light, only to have it turn off before she'd made it down two steps. "Mother fucker." Whoever was doing this to her was dead, so dead. She'd string them up by their toenails. Or maybe she'd pay someone to do it. But that wasn't the point. Rounding the corner, she came to the fuse box that sat next to the gas line for the house. All she needed to do was to shut it off. In the dark, she couldn't see anything. Before she'd finished grumbling, the television across the game room turned on and upstairs she could hear the vacuum cleaner do the same. She glared at the TV screen, only to recognize a video of what had happened to her earlier in the studio played in the background. She was the topic on one of the entertainment shows. She laughed. A cold laugh, as if her world had gone insane. What else was she supposed to do? Craziness such as this didn't happen to people. Why was it happening to her? The lights flipped on. She looked around desperately for the shut off valve for

the gas line. It had seemed so simple when the inspector had shown her how when she'd bought the house. Now, however, she couldn't think straight. Just as quickly as the lights flipped on, they turned off, and she shouted her frustration. This wasn't working. Even if she could find her flashlight, could she manage to flip it on before whoever was doing these things made the damned thing attack her also? Just what she needed—Death by Flashlight—splashed across every newspaper headline. Of course, she wouldn't be here to see it. Well, she damn well wasn't going to stand in her basement while there was a risk the house would burn down around her. Taking the stairs two at a time, she rushed out the backdoor, not even stopping to see if anything was aflame. Barefoot, she ran across her yard, wishing for the first time that she lived closer to her neighbors. God, she needed help. Someone had to call the police. Out of breath, she rounded the corner and banged on her neighbor's door. She'd never met them. Working in the city all day, commuting home, and having constant appearances to attend, did not make her particularly interested in house parties or neighborhood gatherings. She'd always sent her regrets and a bottle of wine. Dancing from one foot to the other, she rang the doorbell a few times when her banging didn't work. These people—if she remembered correctly from all the times she'd seen them pulling in and out of their driveway—were elderly. They should be home, god damnit. Finally, the door swung open. Both in bathrobes, her geriatric neighbors stared at her, their mouths wide in wonder. She couldn't blame them. She was, after all, naked except for her apron and standing on their doorstep at ten o'clock at night. She'd probably gape at herself too. "Please, can you help me? I need to call the police." The man reacted first, pulling her into the house. "What's wrong? Has someone attacked you?" His wife spoke over the end of his sentence. "We saw you on television being

attacked by appliances." "They're attacking me at home now. Please, call the police." And then, when the police showed up, she'd phone Grayson. This had to stop. He had to figure out who was doing this to her. "Come, dearie, sit down." The woman pulled Alice gently into the front hallway, wrapping her in her soft cotton bathrobe before showing her where to sit. Her husband called the authorities. A sudden thought occurred to Alice. She glanced into the room off the hall, noting the electrical devices here, inside this house. Someone who could make machines do bad things was stalking her. Gnawing on her lip, she stood. "I'm going to wait outside. I don't want anything to happen to you." She apologized again and went back out into the night, this time clad in a robe. Her entire body shook. Bad enough this was happening to her, she wouldn't be responsible for bringing it on anyone else. A loud pop behind her made her whirl around. "Oh no." The engine of a white Mercedes, parked in the driveway, turned over. All the lights flipped on and the car roared angrily like someone had revved up the gas with the transmission still in park. She gulped as she searched for someplace to hide. Where could she go out here where the car couldn't get to her? Spotting a tree on the other side of the lawn, she ran hard for the oak. With her legs taking her as fast as she could pump them, she hoped beyond hope that she had enough strength to make it up to the lowest branches. As she heard the car take off behind her, she scrambled up the trunk and grabbed the edge of the one branch she could reach. She struggled to haul herself up, using only her upper body strength. For one brief moment, she thought she wasn't going to make it. She closed her eyes and poured every ounce of energy she had into giving one final tug. Her upper body came over the top of the branch and she hung there, lifting her feet as high as she

could. Clinging to the tree for dear life, she said a silent prayer of thanks as she heard the faintest sound of approaching police sirens. Shaking, she wondered how the police were going to handle out of control machines. One lone tear slipped from her eye and then another, until a stream of them poured down her face. She hadn't cried this much in years. The driverless car came to a stop just inches from the base of the tree. If her mother had been there with her, she would have said Alice was getting everything she deserved for living such a sinful life. Maybe her mother was right. Chapter Three Ace pounded the punching bag with all his strength. Any moment now he expected to bust the bag wide open. Usually, he could hold back, but not tonight. Not after the incident with Ms. Alice Styles. He'd been such a dumbass thinking she would be anything like her television persona. He, of all people, should know people were usually far different than they portrayed themselves, and even assholes hid behind a façade of decency. Since he couldn't travel back in time and tell himself not to go over to that studio, the best he could do, since he had to babysit the teenager, was to beat on the red and blue bag that hung from the ceiling in the basement. Lael pounded down the stairs, sounding like a herd of elephants on speed. "Hey, dude, you've got to see what's on television." Ace looked at the clock on the wall. Eleven-thirty. "Why aren't you in bed?" Lael moved into Ace's line of vision. "Couldn't sleep." "If you can't get your butt out of bed in the morning, I'm going to dump cold water on you." "Fine." Lael leaned against the wall with a pout on his face, illustrating that while his body might be getting bigger he was still a kid in the ways that counted. Even if

they wanted to, adults couldn't pout. "Why do you hit on that thing like that?" Because I'm stuck home at night instead of releasing pent up aggression in a dance club with anonymous faces disappearing under the strobe lights. Not that he could tell his little brother that. No. "Because my body works in such a way that I have to release a certain amount of adrenaline every day or I get jittery. I can't focus. Eventually, I stop being able to function with even a minimal amount of civility." Lael cracked up. "Just then you sounded like Draco. 'A minimum amount of civility.' Why don't you just say you act like a fucked up animal?" "Watch your language." He pressed his lips together firmly to keep from laughing. "I went to the same schools as Draco. I have the same ability to use vocabulary, just so you know." Lael didn't laugh so Ace stopped banging on the bag. "Something on your mind?" "Is that going to be me? Am I going to have to find outlets for my aggression?" "Here's the deal." Ace wiped his face with the towel he kept on a table near the wall. "Our gifts, they manifest themselves differently in everyone. No two Superheroes are exactly the same. Draco doesn't have to do this. There is every chance you won't have to." "Draco says he's stronger than you." Ace snickered. "Draco's full of shit." He could kick Draco from here to the moon if the need arose. He just chose not to . . . . "Oh . . . now let me tell you what's happening to that bitch on television." Bitch on television? "Do you mean Ms. Styles?" "Yes, the nasty—" Ace interrupted. He had to get Lael's language under control before Draco came back or he'd think Ace had somehow coerced the kid into the depths of depravity. "We don't talk about women that way." Sometimes we think about them that way . . . .

"Well, she's on television again. She's stuck up in a tree this time, surrounded by about ten police cars that have gone nuts. The cars keep gunning their engines. No one knows what to do. Any electrical equipment that gets near her goes nuts." Turning his attention to the television on the wall, Ace told it to turn on. Sure enough, along with the words Breaking News blinking on the bottom of the screen, live footage appeared of Alice Styles clinging to a tree branch surrounded by a number of police cars and one white Mercedes, all gunning their engines. Also, he noted, what looked like a riding lawnmower moving in closer, and a chainsaw pulled itself across the grass toward the tree. "Serves her right for being so rude to you." Ace pulled his gaze from the television to regard his brother. Lael had been abandoned by their father and abused by his crazy mother to the point he preferred running away to live on the streets at the age of sixteen. Only when Draco had been paid to find him did either Ace or Draco know the kid even existed. All of those factors had left scars on Lael's psyche that Ace and Draco were working really hard to undo. These things took time, and periodically, Ace reminded himself he had to assume Lael's perception of things might not necessarily be the same as his own. Plus, he was a sixteen-year-old kid who thought he knew everything like all sixteen-year-old kids did. "It doesn't serve her right. No one deserves to be targeted like this, not even for the inexcusable crime of being rude to me." "But—" Ace kept talking. "Truth is, we don't have to like the people we help. Most of the time, we don't. It's our job to serve them if they hire us and sometimes it's our duty to help them even if they don't." "Draco might disagree." Ace shrugged. "The jury is out in terms of what Draco thinks on that subject. He's a lot more emotional than he lets on."

The phone ringing on the wall grabbed Ace's attention. Lael laughed as he moved to sit on the steps. "Holy punching bag, bro'! It's the bat-phone." Ace rolled his eyes. "Go to bed and enough with the Batman jokes." "I want to stay up to see who it is." Picking up the phone, Ace shot Lael what he hoped was a stern look for his verbal defiance. He wasn't exactly sure what else he could do. "This is Ace." "Ace, this is Michelle." He recognized the voice of his Handler, the person whose job it was to manage his assignments at Powers, Inc. Much more than an assistant, the Handlers made sure the Superheroes were taken care of and not overworked. They watched out for their health and well-being. Of course, he'd managed to screw up that relationship earlier in the year by having sex with her. Now, he couldn't go to the office without it being incredibly uncomfortable. Unbeknownst to him, she'd gotten wedding bells in her eyes before they'd ever been intimate. She hated him now. "It's a little late for an assignment, isn't it?" he asked. Ace had a feeling he knew exactly who the client was and she was currently stuck in a tree shrieking at a chain saw that was making gashes in her sanctuary. "I thought you might want this one, given the publicity." The annoyance in Michelle's voice drilled into Ace's skull like someone shoving a nail into him. He needed patience to deal with her. Somehow, he'd find a way to smooth things over. Sometime. Not tonight. "Also," she continued. "I've negotiated the overtime." He cleared his throat as he tried to sound chipper. "Okay, but I'm going to need you to turn on your monitor and keep an eye on Lael for me." Their home was a secret location. Only Draco, Wendy, Ace, and Lael knew where. Their hired housekeeper came in once a week, but even she didn't know for whom she worked. No pictures of any of them adorned the walls.

In order to combat the need to have help with Lael, they'd installed a system where certain key people from the office could watch the house without giving away the home's location. "You don't want me to accompany you to the scene?" Technically, part of her responsibility was to be with him when he went out on calls. Lately, however, her presence at the job sites had sucked the energy right out of him. Since he was going into this one at night anyway, the last person he wanted to deal with was Michelle. "No, thanks. I need you to watch Lael." Behind him, he heard Lael groan but made the decision to ignore him. He wasn't giving his younger brother a choice. Lael would have to deal with it. Sometimes in life you just put up with things you didn't want to handle. "You don't even know what the job is yet." "Is she currently on television for reasons other than cooking?" Michelle was silent. "Leave it to you to know everything. Why do you need me at all?" Ace knew he could rise to that bait and then fight with her. That would probably result in his firing her or her quitting. Either way it would be a situation he didn't want to deal with tonight. Instead, he chose to bite down on the side of his mouth until he tasted blood. That seemed a simpler solution than engaging in an argument with his Handler. "Can I have the address, please?" She rattled off the address of a home not far away from his. So, like he and Draco, Alice Styles preferred to live outside of New York City. That surprised him. The cold woman who'd made fun of his socks hadn't struck him as a nature lover. Then again, maybe she was just highly antisocial. Either way, his impression had been only superficial, given she'd acted like such a . . . . He cut off his thoughts before he used the word he'd scolded Lael for calling the woman.

"The guy who called told me he'd already met you earlier in the day. Been doing some free work under the table Draco doesn't know about?" Ace narrowed his eyes. "Don't threaten me, Michelle. I can assure you that when it comes down to things, Draco will always take my side." No one outside of his family knew Draco and Ace were brothers. They preferred it that way. Michelle didn't need to know the reasons behind Draco's loyalty to him, but she needed to know it existed and she should be wary of it. Hanging up the phone, he looked at Lael. "Don't say a word. You don't get a say in this." "I could help you." Ace nodded as he walked to the stairs. "I'm sure you could, but you're sixteen. You need to go to school. You're not an employee of Powers, Inc." "Why do I need to go to school?" Ace passed him on the stairs heading to the living room. "So you don't end up a total ignoramus." Lael stood. "I know everything I need to know. I lived on the street. I learned about real life." Ace stopped moving to regard his brother. Lael looked so much like him that sometimes, the resemblance was frightening. How Draco hadn't noticed when he'd first seen the picture of the kid, Ace would never know. Looking at him and thinking of the life Lael led before they'd gotten him made Ace feel ill. Most of the time he tried not to think about it. " Look, right now I have to go but tomorrow, after school, we can talk about your time on your own. If you want to.“ Lael never did but they kept giving him the option, just in case. "No. I want to skip school tomorrow and come with you instead." "If you've learned everything you could on the streets then see this as an opportunity to study new stuff you couldn't pick up there, like Shakespeare." Lael's eyes flared with anger. "How is Shakespeare going to help me at Powers,

Inc.?" "Maybe you won't want to work at Powers. Maybe you will want to teach English." Ace crossed to the front hall, this time making certain to put on his shoes. He was dressed more casually than earlier and he wasn't going to take the time to change his clothes. Considering that Alice was in her bathrobe, she should be thrilled to see him wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Quickly, and without letting himself give too much thought to why he did it, he gave himself a glance in the mirror. He'd been working out moments earlier, but he still looked all right. His blond hair, which even he had to admit was getting too long now that it had reached his rear end, hung thick and straight down his back. The principal of the matter kept him from cutting it. Everyone wanted him to; therefore, he wouldn't do it. Smiling, he realized Lael wasn't the only one in the house who could act like a child. "You don't have to make Michelle watch me. I hate it when she does. She talks over the monitor the whole time. I'm sixteen. I can spend time alone in the house without someone watching from a screen. I waited here for you to get home from work." Ace shook his head. He hadn't asked to take on a parenting role at twenty-nine, but he'd been given the assignment so he was going to do a good job. "Not at night. You're never left alone here by yourself while you're sleeping. You're my family. I care about what happens to you." Lael suddenly looked very young. He stared at the floor. Hell, what had Ace said? "Thank you." Ace didn't understand and he needed to get going, but he wasn't leaving until they sorted this out. Alice Styles and her bad attitude could wait. "For . . . ?" "For caring."

Shit. "Lael—" Lael waved his hand and looked up. "Go. I'll be fine here with your nasty Handler staring at me on a view screen until you get back." "She's not nice to you?" That might be grounds to fire her . . . . Lael shook his head. "She's fine to me; she trashes you on the phone to all her friends. I guess because you slept with her once and climbed out the window afterwards. Was it bad?" Ace shook his head. "I'm not ever going to answer that. Gentlemen don't discuss the ladies they're with or even confirm if they've been with them." At least not to their sixteen-year-old brothers. With that, Ace took off through the front door. He had to save Alice Styles from the machines. ***** With a grin, which he quickly hid, he sat on the branch next to Alice. She squealed and he grabbed the collar of her pink cotton bathrobe to stop her from falling over. "Hold on there, honey." He glanced down to see how much progress the chainsaw had made in its attempt to cut down the tree. Not much. It wasn't the right tool for this job. The teeth weren't fashioned for oak; it would take forever to get through the trunk if it made it at all. But who knew how many other chainsaws were on the way. "I'm not going to hurt you. See"—he lifted his feet—"I'm even wearing shoes." She spoke in an icy tone. "I suppose you think this is funny." Ace immediately noted Alice shivered under her robe. It was warm out, even for summer, and humid. No reason the woman should be shaking like a leaf. Except for, he imagined, she was utterly terrified. "No, I don't think this is funny and I'm not going to let anything happen to you." He watched her visibly swallow. Her neck muscles seemed to clench at his words.

"How do I know you're not the one doing it?" Ace wanted to laugh. He supposed he should have expected that from her. "Three reasons." She rubbed her nose. "And they would be what?" "One, if I wanted to kill you using machines, you'd already be dead. I'm much more efficient than this." Alice snorted and he liked her slightly better for having done that. "Two, I don't even know you. I have no need of this kind of publicity." "Your sidekick said you're a fan." "A moderate fan." Okay, so there he lied but she didn't have to know. "I'm a guy. I like looking at your tits on television, and some of the food you make seems like it would be good. That's all." Alice gasped and pulled her robe even tighter around her. Good. She'd stopped shaking a bit and some color had returned to her face. "Besides, I have my own fans. I don't need to pick up yours." Her eyes shot daggers. "What's the third reason?" "I was raised by a single mother. She worked three jobs to support us. Only in the last year of her life was I able to take care of her or give her any of the things she deserved." She shook her head. "That's very touching, Mr. Hudson. As far as I can tell, however, it has nothing to do with my present situation." "She worked like a lunatic and she taught me how to behave. One of the main principals I picked up after a lifetime of guidance was how to treat women. I would never, ever, under any circumstances harm a lady. Despite your nasty tongue and general lack of any manners, you're safe with me." She looked down at her shaking hands. "I have acted appallingly toward you, Mr. Hudson. I apologize." Well, he hadn't seen that coming and he had no idea what to do with it. Cricking his neck, he decided to say nothing at all.

"Here's the deal, I'm going to get you out of this tree and I'm going to stop those machines from doing what they're doing. Then, you're going to do exactly what I tell you as I tell you to do it." "I don't know—" He interrupted her. "It's non-negotiable. I'll leave you up here." "Am I paying you to treat me like this?" "Yes." She closed her eyes. "What is the first thing I'm going to have to do?" "Deciding if you can agree to what I want?" She shrugged and somehow managed to appear haughty even as she trembled. "Maybe." "The first thing you're going to do is move in with me." Her eyebrows shot up so high he wondered if they were going to fly off her face and into the night sky. "I most certainly will not." "I'm not asking you to move in with me. Trust me, you're not my type. Not at all. I like leggy blondes and you certainly are not that." Only for some reason she was his type, despite the fact he hadn't lied. He did like leggy blondes, so why the attraction to The Mouth, here? He shook his head; he couldn't dwell on that right now. "Well now that we've gotten that out of the way I like men who look like men and don't let their hair grow down to a ridiculous length where they might trip on it." He was used to the hair comments. They didn't bother him anymore and he should have expected no less after he'd insulted her. Although, he had to wonder if she'd like him better if he did cut it off. Again, he shook his head, as if the action might disburse such absurd thoughts. He had to get this onto some sort of professional level, end the baiting right now. "I'm all man, honey, and more than your prim little ass could take," he said, unable to resist throwing out one more jab. "Let's get back to the matter at hand, shall we? I need you to move in with me because I have my house set up in such a way that only I can control

the machines in it. Let's just say, I take precautions." She fisted her hands at her side. "Stop calling me honey." The chainsaw below made a large grinding noise as it reached the center of the tree. They both stared down at it at the same time. Ace raised an eyebrow. The oak quivered as it lurched, about to fall over. Ace laughed and pulled Alice into his arms. She screamed. He hoped it was from the tree falling and not from the way he held her up against him, because whether he liked it or not, he enjoyed the sensation of having her close. He was so fucked. Chapter Four The Lycra blindfold Ace had made Alice wear as he flew her through the night sky itched. She wanted to complain, but as he seemed to care little for her personal comfort, she didn't know if it would do much good. Landing, he pulled the blindfold off her, still holding her in his arms. She swallowed and tried to ignore the warmth being pressed against him stirred inside of her. He was annoying, rude, difficult, cocky, and he had hair down past his waist. She was not attracted to him. She needed to keep repeating the new mantra over and over again in her mind. Or maybe, she simply needed to remember that he preferred leggy blondes. Even the thought made her want to smack him over the head. As he let her down, she shivered. She still had on her neighbor's bathrobe and the apron she'd worn when she'd run from the house. Ace hadn't thought it a good idea for her to go back home, not even for clothing. He wanted to get her to where the machines couldn't hurt her. Apparently, that one place was his, and, "oh, by the way, you're not allowed to know where that is." "I need to check to make sure you don't have a cell phone or anything mechanical on you." She raised an eyebrow. Was he kidding? "I'm in a bathrobe. I don't carry a full

array of electronics on me when I rush from the house in an utter panic." "I have to check. Everything inside is safe. The electronics only respond to me. I've mentally constructed a field around each mechanical device in the house. I can use my ability to turn them on and off or make them move. Everyone else has to use a remote control or some other device. No one is breaking through it to find you. You're safe here." The word "safe" sent warm shivers up her back. She felt like she might actually be able to take a deep breath, which disturbed her because no way was it a good idea to let her guard down around Ace. With his strong physique and his long, blond hair that she usually abhorred but found she was liking more and more, he was a danger. He disrupted her sense of order. In Alice's life, she'd gotten good at putting people into the various boxes in which they belonged. Person A belonged in the "speak to them about career things" box. Person B fit nicely in "fun for a night of sex if you were feeling lonely" box. Ace wasn't fitting into his "Superhero who bothers me" box. No, not at all. Not after he'd pulled her from the tree, quieted the mechanical devices, and calmed the crowd. Plus, he'd been so darn polite the whole time. What was that all about? And his story about his single mother . . . . She swallowed away the lump that kept forming in her throat. She needed to speak. He stared at her with narrowed blue eyes and it felt too much like he could see into her soul. "Thank you," she said. "I'm sure I'll be perfectly safe in your bat cave." He shook his head. "Why does everyone keep referring to me as Batman? I don't even look like Batman. I have blond hair, for god's sake. He was never my favorite superhero." "Who was?" Not that she cared. Sheer curiosity drove her to question, nothing more. "Superman. Everyone's favorite superhero is Superman." "Sorry"—she laughed—"I think Draco Powers has that one all tied up. He's

everyone's version of Superman." Ace's face fell and the mask of indifference he'd thrown on when she'd insulted him earlier reappeared. What had she said this time? She'd actually been attempting to be nice. "He's your boss, right?" "Yep, he's my boss. I'm not going to talk about Draco." "Ah . . . okay." Ace stepped toward the front door. "Oh, before I forget, I live with my little brother, Lael." She remembered the blond-haired teenager who had arrived with him at the studio. "Your sidekick?" "He's sixteen and he's my brother. Like all Superheroes, he has tremendous hearing and a very hard time going to sleep because he can hear every noise in the house. And by every noise, I mean every noise. He, as well as I, will be able to hear your heart beating." Alice wasn't sure where to put her hands or if she could make her leg stop fidgeting. That meant, in Ace's presence, no such thing as privacy existed. "I've been teaching him methods of coping. I have loud white noise makers surrounding his room. Still, if you scream it's going to wake him instantly, and then he might not get back to sleep." "In other words, if I want to kill you, I need to do it quietly?" One corner of Ace's mouth turned upwards in a half smile. "Exactly." "Do I need to whisper?" "Hopefully not. He's come a long way in a short time." With that strange statement, Ace opened the door to the house. He punched a code into an alarm keypad next to the door, then stepped inside. Alice followed in his wake. The house seemed frighteningly normal looking: contemporary, which wasn't really her taste, but friendly and well lit. The entryway opened into a large hallway. Off to the left, a living room and—

she gulped—the most beautiful kitchen she'd ever seen outside of a restaurant. Walking to it, because she couldn't help but do otherwise, she spoke to Ace. "You cook?" "No, but my brother, my older brother—whose house this actually is—he always hoped his wife would cook. She does but probably not well enough to warrant the kitchen." He laughed like he'd made a joke. She didn't follow it. "Still, we're grateful just to be fed." "You live with two brothers? Wow, you must really like your family." Ace shrugged and stepped toward her. "What else is there?" She could tell him what else there was. Try pain, annoyance, grudges, and money, to name a few. Yeah . . . if she needed any more proof why not to fall for him, there it was. Ace Hudson was not compatible with her. She was never going to be a family person. "I'm going to go check on the kid." Well, she wasn't going to be left behind standing in his kitchen like an idiot. Turning on her heel, she followed him as quietly as she could down a long hallway, finally descending two flights of stairs. Heavens, who had designed this house? It reminded her of the board game Clue she'd played as a child. There were more turns than she could imagine. It was like a maze. Ace glanced over his shoulder at her when they went down the stairs. "I told you," he spoke in a hushed whisper. "You're safe here." That might be true, but she was in a bathrobe that didn't belong to her, covering her bare ass that was not hidden by an apron. She'd been chased by cars, assaulted by her stove, and scared to death by the lights in her basement. If she didn't want to be left alone, he would just have to deal with it. After all, she was paying him to put up with her, which hadn't been her idea, and he'd insisted she stay at his house. All of these things she wanted to say but since he'd told her not to make too much noise because of the teenager's sensitive hearing, she opted instead to press her finger to her mouth in the universal sign for, "Shh!"

He responded with a universal sign of disgust by rolling his eyes and continuing down the stairs. She kept up her quiet follow. Finally, they arrived at Lael's room. His was an unusual name. She wondered where it came from. And for that matter, where was Lael's mother? His father? What was he doing living with Ace? She bit her lip to keep herself from speaking. Ace touched a screen illuminating a yellow light into the hall. A woman's voice spoke—way too loud—and Alice winced at the sound. "Where have you been? The television showed you flying away an hour ago." Whoever spoke to Ace from the other side of the screen had the type highpitched, shrewish voice that could cut glass. Ace's response came out low pitched and laced with annoyance. "Thanks for watching him. Go to sleep. Come in late tomorrow." With that, he clicked the monitor and it went black. From inside the door next to it, a loud yell sounded. Ace's eyes got huge before he practically busted the door open getting it. Without a thought, she followed him. Lael thrashed on the bed, obviously still asleep. He called out . . . what was it? She looked uncertainly at the scene. To her profound annoyance, Ace didn't seem to have a clue what to do about the situation either. He ran a hand through his hair as he stared at his brother having a nightmare on the bed. "Mom." Lael called to his mother. Alice spoke using her regular tone thinking it wouldn't be a bad idea if she woke him. "Where is his Mother?" "She got blown up." Alice waited for the punch line. Only none came. His wail grew more profound, Lael rolled over screaming. "Mom!" Before she could rethink her actions, she moved forward. If Ace wasn't going to do anything, she would. Wrapping her arms around the teenager, she rubbed his back. "There, there."

No one would ever call her maternal. She could do all the things you were supposed to be able to do as a wife or mother. She cooked; she cleaned—hell, she even knew how to sew, and almost no one knew how to do that anymore. But kids? Children were like a species that existed on a different planet. Lael, however, wasn't really a child. He was physically almost the size of Ace. "Shh." She rubbed his back. No one had done this for her when she was growing up, but she'd seen it done on television. Mothers did it frequently to quiet their children. She shivered at the thought. She was not his mother. Would never be his mother. Still, she held on because it seemed to settle him. After a few moments, she felt the stiffness leave his body and he began to softly snore. When Ace spoke, his voice sounded different. She couldn't put her finger on how, though. "Thank you," he said. She smiled. "He's really out cold." "He has disastrous nightmares. I shouldn't have left him tonight." And that he had, she realized, was her fault. "Sorry about getting stuck in the tree. It's not like I planned to ruin your evening." She'd never liked being made to feel badly about things beyond her control. Patting Lael once more on the back, she stood from the bed. Easing away, she regarded Ace. "What I meant—and for the record I really don't like having to explain myself—is that I should have taken him with me," he said. "I should have let him go into school late." "Do you want to show me where I'm supposed to sleep? The couch?" The house was huge, tons of rooms, but she didn't want to assume she would actually have a bed. Of course, since she was paying, maybe she should demand his bed. "You're right down here." He motioned to the left with his head and walked out of the room into the hall. She followed quickly after she closed Lael's door.

Ace opened up a door two to the left from Lael's room and stepped inside. When she entered, she sighed in relief. She wouldn't have to sleep on some lumpy couch, after all. She crossed to the huge four poster, slipped out of the robe and tossed it on the foot of the bed. She needed to free herself of everything reminding her of this night. "This whole floor is mine. My older brother, when he's home, is upstairs, and I stay here with Lael and—Holy shit! You're naked under that thing." Ace stared, jaw gaping. Alice looked down in horror as her heart threatened to pound out of her chest. "Oh god." She whirled around and leaned down to scoop up the robe. Ace let loose a long, low whistle. "You've got a great ass, Alice Styles." She felt her cheeks heat up as she pulled the robe back on and fastened the sash. "I forgot. I'm sorry." "Don't be sorry." Ace's eyes were volcanic as he walked toward her. "I have to tell you, Ms. Styles, with all the fantasies I've had of your posterior, I did not do you justice." "Ace." She swallowed. What was she supposed to say? She'd flashed herself to him and—wow—he'd reacted. He moved until he stood behind her. "What?" he asked, sounding perplexed. "I'm not your type." His breath tickled the back of her neck. "You're really not. I meet women all the time. You're never the type I go home with. And yet . . . I have wet dreams about you like I'm still Lael's age." "Oh my god, Ace, you shouldn't say those kinds of things to me." Because she didn't know what to do with them. Because since she'd gotten famous no one spoke to her like that anymore. Ever. Because his words made her insides melt with the sheer sexuality of the images in her mind. Ace having a wet dream. "Alice, I want to squeeze your ass." Ace rubbed his nose on the back of her neck

and her knees nearly buckled. "And if you don't tell me to stop, I'm going to do it right now." "Um . . . ." What was happening here? Why couldn't she think? "You should tell me to stop." Her mouth went dry. "If I let you squeeze my ass, it doesn't mean I want to have sex with you." Liar. "Oh, you want to sleep with me. I can hear the lie in your voice." Her pulse sped up. "You can hear lies?" "Yes. Now, I'm going to squeeze your sweet little ass." His large hands stroked both of her butt cheeks and she gasped. "You said squeeze." Ace laughed, a warm sound that swept over her body, making her even hotter. "I'm sorry. Did I take too many liberties on your naked ass? How's this?" He didn't just squeeze, he swept her robe out of the way and dug into her naked skin. Her knees trembled. Finally, he let go. She whirled around. His face looked passive, which pissed her off. Another moment of that caressing and she might have come—standing—right there. Her gaze traveled down his body and froze as she saw it. Ace's hard length bulged the front of his jeans. And that thing was large. She swallowed as she tried to regain her equilibrium. "I take it you're an ass man." He cleared his throat. "I'm going to get you some clothes." "Lots of women leave their stuff here?" Why did she care? "It's my sister-in-law's. No women stay here with me, Alice. Not ever. You're the first." That being said, he turned on his heel and stormed from the room. She was the first? Sitting on the bed, she tried to calm her pounding heart. This was an unacceptable occurrence. She was Alice-fucking-Styles. She wasn't just a celebrity cook, she was an international corporation. She had a magazine devoted to her "good" name, numerous

cookbooks, and in a few months, if she was lucky, a brand of cake mix. She did not get groped in the guest room of a Superhero with hair sweeping his rounded, perfect ass. She most certainly did not enjoy the experience. Ace returned. If she'd managed to get some level of control of herself, he clearly had as well. The ice veneer that appeared when she mentioned Draco Powers was back in place. His telltale erection less visible, thanks to his untucked shirt. He carried with him several articles of clothing that he placed on the dresser. "Get some sleep, Alice. You're safe here. Even from me." With that, he stalked out of the room like a man being chased, and she exhaled the breath she'd been holding. Pulling off her apron and throwing it on the floor in an act of defiance to her usual obsessive organization, she pulled one of the t-shirts he brought her over her head. It was long on her, past her knees, and she knew right away that Ace's sister-in-law was much taller than she was. That was the last thing she thought as she crawled under the covers with the lights still blaring and fell into a deep sleep, relieved the machines would not get her during the night. ***** Alice awoke to Lael standing over her. She rubbed her eyes. "Hello." That seemed a stupid thing to say but her head was fuzzy and she couldn't do better. Did he know what had happened the night before? Had her heartbeat woken him? What was going on? "Ace said I shouldn't bother you but I thought you'd want to see this." She rubbed her nose. "What time is it?" "Nine." "In the morning?" "Yes." Lael picked up the remote and turned on the television. She stared, bleary eyed,

at the image that popped up. It was a man—well, she thought it was a man—wearing a ski mask. He spoke to the camera. "My name is The Mask." "Lael." Alice sat up. "What is this?" "Shh. It's been playing all morning. He's taken over all the television stations." She was so confused. "Who has?" "The Mask." "I am very impressed. In all my years, no one has ever bested me before and I find I do not like the feeling. I have been paid to kill Ms. Alice Styles." She got an immediate headache. Wow, her day was not going to be better than the day before. "I believe she is being protected by the paid services of Mr. Ace Hudson—a member of Powers, Inc. I was not prepared for his interference. I am hereby giving an ultimatum to Mr. Powers. Return her to me, or I will continue destroying the workings of all major mechanical systems in the world." The replay shut off for a second and a moment later The Mask was back on replaying his message. "Oh god, Lael, has he done anything yet?" Her blond companion nodded. "He shut down the New York City subways. Ace got them back online. He was pretty pissed." Ace's voice filled the room as he rounded the corner. "I told you not to wake her." Alice jumped from the bed. "You didn't think this warranted waking me?" "No way." No way? She blinked. A potential world catastrophe loomed on the horizon, based on some psycho's wish to kill her—no, wait because he'd been hired to kill her— and all she could think about was how hot Ace looked in khaki pants and white t-shirt . ... Damn. Maybe she should let The Mask have at her. "Ace?" She tried to steel her shaky voice. "I don't want anyone to die because of

me." "Hey now." His tone held a hard edge as he crossed the room in two strides and pulled her into his arms. "You don't know me, so you also don't know that I'm really good at what I do. This man—he's a blow hole." She laughed, and despite the circumstances, she felt good doing so. If she lived through this, and no one died, she was going to make some major changes. Starting with laughing more. That seemed key to a happier life. Chapter Five Ace hadn't lied to Alice when he'd told her the guy was a blow hard. No, the man had delusions of greatness to the nth degree. There was no way he would possibly be able to control the workings of machines outside of a one-mile radius. He'd been far too easy to take down. Unfortunately, that meant the New York City area would continue to get pummeled until Ace could catch the son-of-a-bitch. Sweeping his hair over his shoulders, he stared at Alice. She'd been cooking for an hour, moving more and more food from her stovetop to the table. He was pretty sure the Eggs Benedict had been the last thing he would be able to eat for hours but Lael continued to consume her offerings in the way only a teenager could. Apparently, she was coping. But Ace would rock the temporary calm of her world with the questions he was about to have to ask. He tapped the table gently with his fork as he tried to figure out the best way to approach this awkward topic. Alice was a bit of enigma to him. She could be soft and gentle, like she'd been when she'd woken up and been scared by The Mask, or she could snap at Ace so fiercely he wasn't sure she hadn't left a dent on him somewhere. Right now, she appeared calm. Dropping his fork, he looked at Lael. "Take one more bite and then go to school." "Really? I thought you were going to let me stay home." "I let you sleep in. Now, you need to go to school. Ms. Styles and I have some

important things we've got to get done." He sat back in his seat and smiled at Lael. "I need to know you're safe at school." Lael nodded. "Okay." His brother took one more bite and looked at Alice. "Thank you for breakfast. It's much better than what we usually get. Wendy and Draco are always in such a hurry, it's cereal and dry toast." Alice turned, her eyebrows raised. Ace closed his eyes for a moment and steeled himself to explain. The woman didn't miss a trick. She glanced at Lael. "Draco lives here too?" Her gaze moved to Ace. "I thought your other brother was the third resident." "Shit." Lael looked down at his hands and Ace punched him in the shoulder. "Don't curse in front of women." Ace shook his head. "Go to school." Lael jumped up and ran down the hall. Yeah, now the kid moved fast. Tell a near stranger their family secret and then run away to leave him to deal with it. Wonderful. He stood and crossed the kitchen until he stood next to Alice. Leaning against the counter, he towered over her. She was so tiny. It made him want to pick her up, wrap her in his arms, and carry her into the bedroom. He swallowed and crossed his arms over his chest instead. "Yes, Draco is my older brother. No one knows that. We keep it that way, like we keep our home a secret. Can you be trusted?" Alice laughed, turning off the stove. "Now I get why you have such a Draco issue." "What are you talking about?" She turned on the faucet and carried her frying pan over to the sink. "Every time I said something about Draco, you went cold on me. Now it makes sense. It's a brother thing." "I don't have a brother issue." What the hell was she talking about? "Okay, big guy, I believe you." Patting him on the chest, she laughed. "And I will never, ever tell anyone about your relationships. I don't need to get into the mess of

other people's family." "Seriously, I don't have a problem with Draco." "If you say so." She shrugged like she didn't care, which only pissed him off further. He put his cup on the counter before he ended up breaking it in frustration. "Why do you live with him?" "It's a complicated issue. I have some stuff that makes it a little difficult for me to always function by myself. When I was a little older than Lael, the issues became a problem and Draco decided he needed to keep me close by to monitor me. Since then, I've gotten it under control. I could leave, would have left when Draco met Wendy, but now there's Lael, and neither Draco nor I want to leave him." He walked to the table and carried the dishes to the sink before picking up his cup. "I'm here another two years." "You sound like you had a drug problem." He'd been taking a sip of his coffee and he spit it out. Laughing, he wiped at his mouth with his sleeve. She rolled her eyes and handed him a napkin. "Thank you. No, um, my body makes a lot of adrenaline. It's part of how I do what I do. It needs an outlet or it gets a little bad for me." "Bad how?" "I regress a little bit." He really didn't want to talk about this. "Look, I have a really good life and most of the time I can handle myself just fine. We need to talk about you." Her face fell from playful banter to a serious stare. She sighed. "I know." "You know?" "The Mask said he was hired to kill me. We need to figure out who did the hiring." Well, that had been less painful than he'd imagined. "Right, so then—" Alice pounded her hand on the counter. "We need to figure out what good for nothing, son-of-a-bitch, asshole thought they could fuck with my life."

Ace felt his cheeks heat up at her words. He turned, hoping she wouldn't notice. It wasn't that he didn't live in the real world. He did. He worked with women every day. He knew they could curse like sailors and give him a run for his money in the profanity department. There was just something about seeing Alice do it while she stood over the sink looking so domestic that just seemed, well—off. He needed to get his head out of the pretend Alice he'd created and into the real one who stood before him. He walked to the window to look outside. "Any thoughts on who that person might be?" "I run a multi-million dollar corporation. Anyone could hold a grudge against me." He laughed as he turned around. The things she said when she used her haughty, "I'm in charge" voice tickled his sense of humor. "Not real pleasant to work for, are you?" She lifted her chin. "I'm polite to every person I encounter." "I bet." He tapped the window with his hand. "This seems so personal to me. They went out and found a person who uses machines to kill to not only end your life but to terrify you. Sounds like this person is pretty angry." "You often get feelings of this type?" She doubted him, which infuriated him. Although her behavior didn't come as a surprise. There wasn't a moment in Alice's presence that she didn't question him in some way or another. "I do this type of thing often." At that statement, she raised an eyebrow. "Find murder-minded madmen?" "Oh, I like your alliteration." Now it was her turn to laugh. Her face alit with delight, and she looked easier now, softer. "I speak on live television. I have to come up with cheerful, funny things on the spot all the time." "All right, but back to the point, this is not the first crazy person I've had to sort out. It happens more than you might imagine. Draco had to rescue his wife from a

lunatic who had her in a cage." "So what you're saying is that you've done this so frequently you can now get a sense of how these things work." "Don't you ever just know that a recipe you're working on needs more salt? You can't explain why, you just know it." She walked to a stool by the counter and sat down. "Okay. Let's say I actually understood what you just said, then I'm going to admit that what you said about it being personal makes some sense to me." Now they were getting somewhere. "How so?" "I haven't spoken about this in years." Even if they had made headway, it appeared Alice wasn't going to make this easy on him. "Consider me your personal shrink. I won't utter a word. Superhero-client privilege. It won't leave this room." "Who's going to drive me to school?" Ace jumped an inch in the air at Lael's sudden entrance. Damn. His brother was perfecting his stealth. Exhaling on a laugh, he turned. "I guess I'm going to take you." Alice shot to her feet. "You can't leave." The woman's skittish? "You're safe here. I told you." "How can you be sure?" Ace shook his head. "I'm sure." "One hundred percent sure?" She advanced on him. "Won't you feel badly if you come home and you find the fax machine detached from the wall and strangled me?" "Now there's something I never thought I'd hear in my entire life." "Just because it's ridiculous doesn't make it any less possible. Not in light of recent events, anyway." He sighed. What was he going to do with her? She looked truly despondent standing in front of him with her long, brown hair disheveled, her skin make-up free, and yet she looked hotter than she'd ever looked on television. Swallowing, he tried to push that last thought away. It did him no good thinking about her that way.

Except to give him a major boner like he'd had the night before after he'd stupidly squeezed her round, supple ass. She cleared her throat, seemingly unaware of the nature of his thoughts. "Can't you keep me safe in the car? And come to think of it, why can't he fly himself there? Are his superpowers different than yours?" "Oh, I can fly." Lael lifted his chin. "But my brothers don't want me telling people what I can do just yet. They say it's safer if everyone thinks I'm just a normal dude." Alice smiled at Ace, showing off the one dimple in her left cheek. "I bet the dude was your addition to that statement." Ace scratched his head. "Do I say dude a lot?" He didn't think he did . . . . Lael laughed. "Sometimes." "That's not fair. You say it." He pointed at Lael. "I picked it up from you." "Whatever. We'll all go together in the car. You'll"—he moved from pointing at Lail to pointing at Alice—"stay with me, and I'll fight back any machines that attack you." "Believe it or not, I have no intention of running out onto the street freaking out while random machines attempt to end my life." He hoped not because much as he had grown overly fond of staring at her ass, he had no interest in chasing her if she did that. "Go get dressed and meet me in the garage. It's there." He pointed toward a side door off the kitchen. She snickered. "Are we going in the bat-mobile?" "Hardy-har-har." Lael cracked up. "Only after we go through the bat cave to get there." "The next one of you who makes a lame Batman joke is going to be doing the dishes for a week." "Oh yeah?" Alice's eyes glowed with amusement. "I'm paying you. You don't get to tell me to do the dishes."

Lael wasn't finished yet either. "I have homework." Seriously, when had it become funny to call him Batman? ***** Ace waved to Lael as he dropped him off on the corner by the school. Sitting in the car, he watched his younger brother round the corner like a teenager with no cares in the world. Alice, who had been quiet for the ten-minute drive to Lael's school—probably because she'd been blindfolded for most of it—finally spoke when he took the bandana off her eyes. "How did his mother get blown up?" Ace released a loud breath and glared at Alice. How much did he want to trust her with their personal stories? He drummed his fingertips on the steering wheel for a few seconds, then finally put the car in park. Maybe if he shared with her what she wanted to know, she would finally tell him what he needed to hear to keep her safe. "We have the same father. He abandoned all of us. Draco and I didn't know Lael existed." "Mine died when I was three." He nodded. The sharing was already taking place. That was a good thing. He continued. "Draco got hired on a case. Since then, the system has changed, but back then the financial department only had to prove the person could pay the bill and then it was no questions asked." She smiled at him and leaned back in her seat. "I can pay your bill." "Wasn't worried about it." Alice chuckled. "Go on." He would, just as soon as he finished grinning back at her. Alice had an infectious way with her happiness. She could light up the universe if she smiled all the time. "Anyway, Draco and Wendy—that's my sister-in-law, she was Draco's Handler

at the time—flew out to see a woman who had a runaway teenager. She thought he'd been kidnapped by aliens." Ace hadn't been there but he could imagine the scene as well as if he had been. "Wendy's senses told her this woman was off. The house was modest. Draco is the most expensive Superhero on the payroll." "More expensive than you?" "By a long shot. I'm the second most expensive, but Draco is top dog." Her eyes twinkled. "Then maybe I should be with Draco." "Sorry, he's on his honeymoon. And besides, only I can talk to machines." The idea of her leaving him for Draco's professional protection didn't sit well. A knot formed in his stomach and his hands tingled. Damn, he was going to have to work out some of his pent up aggression again. It was too soon to be feeling this keyed up, and it didn't bode well for how the rest of the day was going to go. "I was kidding." He stared hard at Alice. Her face was serious, her eyebrows pointed downward, and her mouth rested in a thin line. She really was upset. Somehow, the fact that she'd been making a joke and not serious about wanting to go with Draco eased his tension. Not a lot but a smidgen, at least. "It turned out her investigation was being funded by a charity organization that was really a front for a group that was out to get Draco and Wendy. They blew up the house while Draco and Wendy were there. He got Wendy out. Lael's mother didn't make it. Later on, Draco found Lael and it didn't take him long to realize we were family." "Kid looks just like you." Ace nodded. "I know." The sunlight hit Alice's eyes. "He ran away." "Because she was nuts. Because he was different and didn't understand why that was. Because he was scared." "Besides the dreams, he seems pretty put together."

Ace shrugged. "None of us can really control what we dream about." She cleared her throat and looked out the window. "I think you might have been onto something earlier, about it being personal, this attack on me." "You said that before. Do you want to explain a little further?" Please. "I had dreams as a child, very disturbing dreams about machines killing me." Ace had not been expecting that. He tried to keep his expression neutral. "That's kind of a funny dream for a child to have. No monsters under the bed?" "No." Her laugh sounded humorless. "My mother's second cousin lost his arm in a factory accident at work. He got caught in a press. It was a terrible experience. He would walk around in shirts where half of the shirt would hang down because there was no arm in it." She swallowed. "I was little. I had no compassion, just fear." "How old were you?" She turned to stare him square in the eyes. "I was three." Ace's mind whirled. Her recount was too close to be a coincidence, too odd that she's dreamed this scenario as a little girl, and now it was happening to her. "When did the dreams stop?" "Around my seventh birthday, my mother took me to a doctor. He sat me down and told me how machines couldn't hurt me. I don't remember the gist of the whole thing, but somehow it worked." She shuddered. "Maybe because it was finally someone other than my mother telling me about it." "And the doctor? What happened to him?" "He died about twenty years ago from a heart attack. I remember because we had to drive twenty minutes farther down the road to another pediatrician and the new doctor's office smelled like lemon disinfectant. It used to make me sneeze." Ace nodded. "That's why you clean with those "green" disinfectants. I've seen it on your show." "Wow." Her smile was wide. "You really are a fan." "Um . . . ." He half-sighed, half-chuckled. Damn, he felt really uncool at the moment. "I think it's clear here, Alice, that someone who knew about those dreams is

behind this." She sighed and closed her eyes, leaning against the headrest. "I was afraid you were going to say that." "You had to have realized that when this began." She was too smart to have been so dense about this. She nodded and opened her eyes. For a moment, they glistened with unshed tears. She appeared to struggle for composure, and he reached out to stroke the side of her cheek. Her skin was so soft, like cotton under his fingertips. She smiled and closed her eyes again. One large tear fell and before he could stop himself he unhooked her seatbelt and tugged her over the center console and into his arms. She clung to his shirt as she silently sobbed. "I never cry." He nodded as he kissed the top of her head. "I know." "How do you know?" "You're too tough a woman to resort to hysterics. Even somebody as dense as me can see that." She laughed even as she sobbed. "I've cried more in the last two days than I have in years." "I won't tell." "Oh, Ace." She pulled back, regarded him, her big brown eyes huge. "My family is so fucked up." Wiping the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs, he kissed the top of her nose. "We need to go see your Mom, don't we?" "Unfortunately. But it's going to take time to get there. Maybe we should call instead. It's hours on a plane." "Where does she live?" She sniffed and wiped her nose. "Florida." "We'll be there in no time." He handed her the blindfold. "Put this on. I'll take the car back home and then we'll fly there." "You have a plane?"

"Powers, Inc. has one. But I have something better than that. I have me." Besides, it would give him a reason to hold her close for a little while longer without her getting uncomfortable about being vulnerable. Just a little more time until he had to give her up and pretend he hadn't held the object of his personal fantasy in his arms. Just a little more time until he solved her problem and she forgot him forever. Chapter Six Alice hadn't been home in six years. Well, she didn't really consider her mother's house home, she amended the thought as they touched down on the ground. She hadn't been raised in this particular place. Her mother had moved to Florida about a decade ago, which meant Alice had been living on her own for six years when the woman who'd raised her moved here. Sarasota was beautiful, and she could understand why any number of people would love to live there. But not her mother. Alice doubted the woman, in her entire existence, had ever enjoyed the beach. It was possible her mother didn't own a bathing suit even. In fact, Dora Styles treated the whole house as if she had simply uprooted her life in West Virginia and dropped it into Sarasota. The same garden elves that had decorated her front yard still stood guard on this one. She was sure the Christmas lights that hung from the gutters had been ripped from her childhood home and restrung here. Even the welcome mat with the cat licking its paw had to be twenty years old. It was bizarre to Alice. As if someone had taken her entire childhood and dropped it down on the west coast of Florida. "This is it?" Yes, this was it. "That's right. My mother lives here." But not Alice because Alice had never even been asked to visit, let alone invited to move in. Maybe it was unreasonable to think she should have been. She had, after all, been on her own for a long time and seemingly independent. Alice, however, had

always known that the slight on her mother's part was intentional. Dora never missed an opportunity to tell her daughter in words or deeds how completely she disliked being her mother. Alice sighed as she straightened her clothes and looked at Ace. For the last several hours, he had held her in his arms. When they'd hit a patch of bad weather, he'd held her tightly and moved higher, above the clouds. She hated flying, and yet, she'd loved doing it with Ace. His body was warm and hard. God, was it hard. His tenderness had disarmed her in a way she hadn't expected. "Should we have called first?" She shook her head. "No, she's home." "I'm surprised the press isn't here hounding her, considering they're looking for you." "She doesn't acknowledge me publicly." She watched as he blinked, digesting what she'd said. "So she's an idiot." He didn't ask that as question, just stated it as if it had to be absolute truth that someone would have to be an idiot to not acknowledge her. "You and Draco don't tell people you're brothers." He shook his head. "We do, if someone asks. We don't like people knowing at work." "I see." She nodded. She actually did see how that would work. "Someone can say something to you about Draco that way without them realizing you have a direct line to him." He sighed and put his arm around her. Before she could think better of it, she leaned into him. "Draco doesn't like people knowing about his family because they inevitably get targeted. It used to be that I was his soft underbelly, now its Wendy and Lael too. People talk at work. It gets to the wrong people." Making herself pull out of Ace's warm embrace, she stepped forward onto the front porch. "Do you hug all your clients, Mr. Hudson?"

The superhero who was rapidly getting under her skin and through her selferected walls had the gall to laugh at her. "No, and I don't pinch their asses either or dry their tears, Ms. Styles." Her cheeks heated and she knew she was definitely red faced. Turning her back on Ace, she knocked on the door using the unicorn-shaped doorknocker. Again, another throwback to her childhood. She shook her head. Her mother never threw out anything. Except, apparently, her. The door swung open and there she was: her mother. Alice held her breath. Her mother never aged. She'd appeared fifty when she was thirty-five and she continued to look the same age, no matter how old she got. Her mother had gone grey early and not done anything to hide the lack of color. It made Alice feel nutty to think about it. She was thirty-five years old—older than Ace, she would guess, which bothered her remotely and shouldn't, because it wasn't like they were dating—and if she went grey she'd run to the hairdresser every week, if need be, to get her hair colored. One thing had changed: her mother wore shorts. In all of Alice's years, she had never seen her mother's bare legs. "I wondered if you would show up here to hide from the photographers." Alice cleared her throat. She had no idea what to say. Other than her bi-weekly, ten-minute conversation, she never spoke to her mother. "I'm not here to hide." Her mother looked her up and down . . . slowly, so, Alice imagined, she could make sure Alice recognized the look. "You're thinner than you seem on TV." Deciding to ignore the first part and focus on the second, she finally spoke. "You watch me on television?" "I've seen you on those commercials." "Aha." Alice ran a hand through her hair. "Um, Mom, this is Ace Hudson. Ace, my mother, Dora Styles." Ace stepped forward and extended his hand. "Mrs. Styles." Her mother stared at Ace's hand like it was a foreign object. "You're one of those

superheroes that are always flying over New York City." "Yep, that's me." Alice wanted to argue. Superheroes were not always flying over New York City. In truth, it was a treat to get to see them, a rarity. You could tell their differences based on their personal traits too. Draco always wore black; Zee had a gold cape; and Ace . . . well . . . he had the long, blond hair. Ace seemed not to be bothered by what she'd said and after he dropped his hand to his side he kept his smile plastered on his face. "Why do you have your hair like that? Are you some kind of freak?" "I guess you could say I'm a bit of an oddball." Why is he so calm? Alice hadn't been back in her mother's presence for more than a few minutes, and already, she wanted to scream. Ace acted as if her mother's insult was no big deal. He was a steady rock her mother wouldn't be able to budge. Finally able to smile, Alice stepped past her mother and into the house, noting she still hadn't been asked to enter. Her mother spoke to her back. "If you're not here to hide, then what brought you?" Alice stopped moving, looked around at the plaid furniture she'd had as a child that now decorated the living room in another house. "Well, Mom, the thing is—" "Wow, something smells wonderful in here," Ace said. Alice sniffed the air. That was true, and she recognized the smell immediately: pot roast. She never made it herself because it was the one thing she'd never been able to make as well as her mother had. Some kind of mental block. A cooking stumbling point she could not cross over, and the very thought of it made her mad as hell. "It's my pot roast." Her mother strutted in her cut off jean shorts to the kitchen. "Alice can't make it." Ace met Alice's gaze with a questioning look. "I can't. I absolutely can't do it as well as she can," she whispered. "All right." He too spoke in a whisper. "Can she make Chicken Francais like you can, though?"

"I doubt she's ever tried. She'd say it's too fancy." He caressed the side of her face as they walked into the kitchen. Her skin tingled where he'd touched it. Whatever else she could say about Ace, she would happily admit that her real life Batman was a sexual force of nature. His touch alone could make her melt and had—several times. She stepped into the kitchen and stopped, listening to the conversation Ace engaged her mother in. "How long have you lived here?" Her mother laughed. "I don't suppose Alice would have told you that. She probably has better things to do than to talk about me." "Now, Dora, you and I both know Alice values privacy. It's hard to get her to tell me what time it is, let alone to talk about her family." Was that true? Was it hard to get her to speak about herself? She had never thought it was . . . . Her mother nodded as she opened the oven door to look at the pot roast. The smell of Alice's favorite childhood meal wafted into the room and made her stomach growl loudly. She rubbed it as Ace glanced over at her and winked. A wink? Was he kidding around? Was she not hard to talk to? She opened her mouth and closed it again. Her mother kept speaking. "She hides things well, especially things she doesn't want people to know." "I bet she does. Lots of childhood memories she'd rather no one hear?" "No." Her mother's face fell. "She was an excellent child. Never did anything wrong." Why did her mother sound so bitter about that? Wasn't that what parents wanted from their children? Alice wanted to scream. Shaking, she clasped her hands behind her back so it wouldn't be so obvious. Ace was up to something. "There is one thing, though. The nightmares." Her mother blinked. "About the machines?"

Ace's tone was dead serious now. "Those are the ones." Her mother arched an eyebrow and Alice shuddered. She remembered that look from her childhood. It usually made her hide in her room. "You're sneaky, aren't you?" Ace nodded. "I'm not going to pretend I don't know what you're talking about. Yes, I'm sneaky. You immediately discounted me because I'm a Superhero and because I have long hair. I got you to let your guard down." "Why are you asking me about Alice's freaky dreams? She saw her uncle lose his arm. It happens. Children have nightmares. It doesn't make me a bad mother." "I never suggested it did." Alice couldn't take any more. "Mother," she shouted. Both Dora and Ace turned with equally surprised looks on their faces. "You're a smart woman. You saw what happened to me on television and what's happening with this lunatic. I'm only alive because of Ace." Oh God, had her voice just broke? Ace stepped forward and she held up her hand to stop his advance. She couldn't show weakness in front of her mother. Or, at the very least, any more weakness than she already had. "Someone knows about the dreams. I don't think you hired this man to kill me. It would cost a lot of money—and you never take any from me—plus, you would have to admit you were my mother to someone who didn't know. So tell me, who knew about the dreams?" Her mother sighed. "No one outside the family except the doctor knew." That didn't surprise Alice. Not one bit. Ace interrupted. "Did you hire The Mask to come after your daughter?" Alice exhaled a loud breath. No, her mother hadn't done that. "I most certainly did not." Ace nodded, walking to Alice's side. He didn't touch her, which was a smart move because if anyone tried to handle her while she felt this out of control she would explode.

"Who else knew?" Her mother exhaled. "My brother." Alice closed her eyes. "Grayson." "Alice?" Ace's voice made her open her eyes to look at him. He narrowed his blue eyes as he stared into hers. "Grayson is your uncle. The man who hired me, the one who met me by the elevators and brought me to you." "He's Uncle Gray." "Damn it." Ace tapped his foot on the floor. She looked down at it. Ace was such a put together person. The foot moving seemed a completely unconscious gesture. "What's wrong? This is a good thing. We needed to know who knew." "I can't talk to you right now." He spoke the words through gritted teeth and Alice's eyes got wide. Ace stormed through the door to the front yard, evidently expecting her to follow. She would. There were things, however, she had to do to first. Shaking her head, she sighed. "Why do you hate me?" Her mother looked up from her roast, eyes wide. Then she burst out laughing. "Wow, you've finally grown a backbone." "I've always had one." She wasn't going to let her mother insult her way out of this. "Answer the question." "It's not that I hate you, Alice. I simply don't feel we have very much in common. You have your life—and it seems, from all accounts, to be a good one. It's got nothing to do with my own." Alice wanted to pound on something. "You're my mother." "I am and I raised you up as well as I knew how. You turned out well." She did? That was a strange compliment from her mother. Maybe the first she'd ever gotten. Her mother walked to a drawer and pulled out a note card. "I was going to mail this to you." She took it from her mom's outstretched hand. "What is it?" "Read it." Alice stared at the card, realization dawning on her as she read the words. "This

is your pot roast recipe." "It is. Practice making it and you'll get it just like you got all the other ones." She wasn't sure what to say. "Thank you." "You're welcome." Her mother stared at the door where Ace had exited. "If you're banging that long-haired boy make sure you use protection." Alice gasped. "Mother!" "I don't want grandchildren out of wedlock." Okay, now she was leaving. "Thank you, mom. Talk to you next week." Turning on her heel, she fled from the room before their decent moment was wrecked or Dora could say any more about sex. Ace paced the front yard. As she came out onto the porch, he turned to glare at her with wild eyes. "If I had known Grayson was your uncle, I'd have begun with him. Now, we've wasted time." Ace ran a hand over his hair. Alice rolled her eyes. She'd gone from one crazy person to another, evidently. "I didn't know you needed to know he was my uncle." "This is part of the problem with having you not talk about anything." Now that wasn't fair. "Am I supposed to start with my birth? With the birth of my brother? What part of my life should I start talking about and then I'll give you my personal history from there? Hell, maybe you could write it down for me. Ever think of being a biographer?" "Ah, goddamn it, Alice." Grabbing her hand, he pulled her to him. "We have to get back to New York City and interrogate your uncle before he has time to disappear." Disappear? That wasn't likely. She paid him way too much money for doing very little for her. "Ace, do you think it's possible you're getting a little too upset about this?" "Do you think it's possible you aren't upset enough, considering you are the one The Mask is attempting to kill?" She needed to do a better job of making her point. "Look, I have no doubt Grayson is capable of doing really bad things. Why would he hire you if he'd also hired

The Mask?" "I'm not sure. That's something we have to find out." Without warning, he took off into the sky with her in his arms. They'd been flying about five minutes when he finally spoke again. "You might be right. It's entirely possible my reaction may become increasingly aggressive. You don't need to fear me; I would never harm you, but please do tell me if I get out of hand." "Is this that problem you have? The reason you initially had to live with Draco." "Yes. Why am I not surprised you remember that?" "We just had the conversation yesterday. I don't have dementia." He laughed and because she couldn't help herself she touched her hand to his mouth. He kissed her hand so she quickly pulled it back. Her fingers tingled. "I guess I was hoping you blocked it out." "Nope." She grinned. "Sorry." "I have a lot of pent up aggression. My body makes too much adrenaline and I've found ways to get it out." The wind flapped at her hair and she grinned, snuggling closer to Ace. This was a good excuse to be pressed up against him and not have to worry about it. If she ever went to therapy, she'd have to look into the reasons why she wanted to be held so badly. No, she silently corrected, she didn't just want to be held. She wanted Ace to do the holding. Ace—a paid Superhero with his strong muscles and his ridiculously long hair. Who would have figured? "What are the things you usually do?" "Exercise usually works, but lately, it's taking more and more of that, and sometimes it doesn't help at all." That was bad news. She bit down on her lip. "What else helps?" "Music. Very, very loud techno music in dance clubs." She pulled back to look at his face. "You're kidding?" "No. I'm not."

That didn't sound very relaxing. "How does that work? Doesn't it get you more pumped up?" He shook his head. "No, there is something about the intensity of the music. The beat, the boom—boom—boom. It really works for me." "So those are your two options? Exercise your brains out or hang out in a dance club?" "There's also sex." She rolled her eyes. He was, after all, male. She shouldn't be surprised. "Is that how you justify having so much of it?" "How do you know how much sex I have? I haven't had sex since we met." "That woman, the one who watched Lael over the monitor, she's pretty pissed at you. Did you sleep with her?" His face fell. Gone was the easy banter, replaced by Ace's serious expression, the one where his eyes went cold. She wished she hadn't asked the question. "I don't discuss who I sleep with. All I will say is that where Michelle is concerned, it was certainly not my finest decision." "Because she's your employee?" He nodded. "Because she works for me." She put her head on his chest again, listened his heartbeat. She hated the thought of Ace sleeping with a lot of random women. No, he was the kind of guy who should come home every night to the same one. His woman should know what his trigger points were; she should have spent so much time with him she knew what to say, what would make him upset, what could make him laugh. If she was truly honest, she didn't want him sleeping with anyone but her. Her eyes almost bulged out of her head at the thought. Here she was, at five thousand feet in the air, and she couldn't run away. She had to deal with what she felt. She wanted to sleep with Ace. So badly. "Sex is complicated. I'm very strong. I can't really lose myself with every woman I'm with. I might hurt them. It's a rare woman who can enjoy sex with me if I don't

contain myself the entire time we're together." "You could hurt her?" "No, I mean, not really. She just wouldn't like it very much. I learned to control myself. But, controlled sex doesn't take the edge off, so to speak." "There are women out there who could handle you?" "A few. Very few." Great, so now she had to grapple with the fact that she wanted him and he wanted her. That much was obvious if for no other reason than the butt groping from the night before, and they might not be compatible enough for him to really enjoy it. She swallowed. What if he did though? Would he want to continue to have relations with her simply to take care of his adrenaline problem? "Why didn't you keep the girls who could? Why didn't you continue to date them? Marry them?" "Alice." His smooth voice worked like a balm on her frayed nerves. "You don't marry someone because they can handle you physically. My parents did that. It was a disaster and ultimately he left. I would rather hold back sexually for the rest of my life and marry a woman I loved than stay with someone because we fit well together." She closed her eyes. She didn't want anything more to do with this conversation. It was making her too prickly, too worried about things she had no business worrying about. She needed to steer it back on safer ground. "Have you tried meditation or yoga?" "No, I can't imagine sitting there so still and doing nothing." "Yoga is not still. It's hard, it's controlled movements. As for meditation, sitting still and controlling your adrenaline might be what you need. Unless you think you can sit all day in a dance club." Opening her eyes, she looked at the blue of Ace's t-shirt. He smelled awesome, like laundry detergent, soap, and cinnamon, all clean scents. It was time to regain her perspective. When this was over, she'd go back to her world—the filming, the traveling, the writing—and he'd go back home to his family

and continue to help people with their problems. Ace Hudson, even if she wanted him, would never work in the controlled boxes she used to make her world work. Chapter Seven Maybe they needed to wait before they went to question her uncle. Ace cracked his neck as he considered his options. He was really on edge. One false word from Grayson and Ace might shove the son-of-a-bitch through a wall. Glancing at Alice as they rode to her uncle's top floor penthouse apartment, he saw none of his anxiety reflected back at him. He wanted to swear. He'd told the woman to trust him and now she did. Only she didn't realize that if he didn't get his adrenaline out in the next few hours she was going to be dealing with a raving lunatic. He had to speak. "If it ever gets to the point where I can't control myself, where the aggression becomes too much, Draco will take me and lock me up. If they can't solve it, he'll make sure I never harm anyone again." Including himself but he wasn't going to share that little factoid with Alice right now. She stared at him with confusion radiating in her gaze. "Are we talking about that again?" He hadn't been totally done speaking about it earlier when she'd closed her eyes and leaned on his chest, falling asleep in his arms. He wasn't going to complain. He'd loved holding her like that. Given the chance, he'd do it again. Given, however, his current amount of pent up energy, he needed to tell her what had to be done. He pulled a card out of his pocket and handed it to her. "This is Draco's information. He's on his honeymoon in the South Pacific. He could be here in an hour if he flew fast. Don't call him unless I lose my mind. He's the only one who can restrain me." She reached up to touch his cheek with her soft hand. "Are you feeling all right? Do you need to go somewhere to feel better? Somewhere with some music, maybe?"

"We'll talk to Grayson. Then I'll drop you at home and come back when I'm better in control." She bit her lip, her chestnut-colored eyebrows pointing down in concern. "Are you sure?" "I'm fine." He hoped. The door opened right up to Grayson's apartment. "He owns the floor? How much do you pay him?" No one lived like that in New York City. She sighed. "If he's sent a hit-man after me, apparently he doesn't think it's enough." "Honey, if he sent someone after you to kill you, he's dead where he stands." Ace knocked on the door. Loudly. The doorman had called upstairs to announce their arrival so it wasn't like Grayson didn't know they were coming. The fact that he wasn't standing there waiting for them was rude, considering everything Alice was going through. If Ace hadn't needed her to help him deal with Grayson, he would have left her at home. As it was, his head throbbed as he monitored each and every electrical device in the building. The door swung open and Grayson stood in front of them. He held a drink of what smelled like bourbon in one hand and a revolver in the other. Ace was more interested in the gun. Faster than Grayson could see, he pushed Alice behind him into the elevator and ordered the machine to take her down to the first floor and stay there. She screamed as she realized what was happening, but the doors had already closed. They wouldn't open again until he instructed them to. Or until someone managed to break through them with a crowbar. "Going to shoot me, Uncle Gray?" He deliberately used Alice's name for him, or rather, the name she was no longer allowed to use since, in the sick workings of Alice's life, business trumped family. At

least for her family. "I didn't mean for this to happen." Ace stepped into the apartment. With no time to admire the grandeur of the place, he did note the very large, wall-sized window across the room with a view of New York City behind it. "Why don't you put down that gun and we can talk like men?" Grayson's hand shook. Ace really didn't think he was going to shoot him. Truth was, he couldn't get out of the way of a bullet. He wasn't that fast. Some of the Superheroes he employed could. It would be no problem for Lael to dodge a bullet; the kid was so fast it was almost off the charts. Ace, however, had long since determined his strengths and weaknesses. Speed was not his strongest suit. He was going to have to talk Grayson down or get the gun away from him. "You'll never believe me. I'm not going to jail." Ace shrugged, as if adrenaline didn't race through his veins—though it did. "I'm not the police. It's not my call whether or not you go to jail. It's up to Alice if she wants to press charges or not." He silently sent a call to the elevator still holding Alice hostage. It was still as he'd left it, safe and closed, although he could feel The Mask pushing at his command instructions to attempt to get the elevator to move. Unlike earlier, The Mask wasn't putting much effort into his attempt. That factor caused Ace concern. Why was The Mask being so easy about it? Still, that was something to contemplate later and he couldn't be lax and assume the attempted mechanical takeover of the elevator would remain easy to handle. This discussion with Grayson couldn't go on indefinitely. "Alice hates me." Ace shook his head. "She doesn't. She's a tough lady with a lot of walls to climb over, but she loves her family even if she doesn't understand them. That much is obvious." "I didn't hire anyone to kill her."

"Then why does the lunatic who is all over the television screen say you did?" Grayson dropped the gun on the floor. It hit with a thud and Ace took a protective step back, worried it might go off by accident. He stared at the gun for a second before running for it. Picking it up, he stared at Alice's uncle. He looked like he'd aged ten years in two days. "Tell me what happened. Maybe I can help you too." Crumbling, Grayson landed on the wood floor. In a fit of sobbing and hiccups, he began to explain. "I got into some financial trouble." Ace squatted to be closer to Grayson's eye level. "Gambling?" "Horse racing." "That's tough." Ace didn't have a gambling problem; in fact, he'd never made anything but a friendly bet in his life, but he understood it could be a debilitating thing to get involved in. "I went to the network. I take a cut of all of Alice's deals. They told me the only way she could renegotiate for more money this year was if the ratings sky rocketed." Grayson sniffed. "I came to her with a bunch of ideas. I wanted her to film from a cruise boat surrounded by her fans. We could charge for the cruise. She said she was not spending a week in the blistering sun on a boat talking to strangers all day." That sounded like Alice. He wasn't sure what made him want to grin more, the idea of Alice in cruise apparel cooking steaks or the way she'd told Grayson no way in hell would she do it. "Go on." "I wanted her to branch out to clothing. We'd had some offers . . . ." Ace thought of Alice trapped in the elevator, probably fuming by now, and he knew this couldn't continue. Ace's eyes watered from the strain of maintaining control. "Tell me about The Mask." "Finally, I decided I had to be more original. I thought I could scare her on

television. She'd be really freaked out. It would generate interest. New people would watch. Ratings would soar. He wasn't supposed to kill her; he was supposed to scare her. Then I saw what happened. I didn't know what to do and you showed up like a perfect solution. The one man who could save her presented himself. I thought, oh thank god, I can fix this." Grayson blubbered. No other word Ace could think of to describe the amount of tears, snot, and desperation pouring from Grayson's insides. "How did you find him?" "I went to a bar, a shady place downtown. I asked the bartender if he knew anyone who had superhero powers and would do this kind of thing. He gave me a card." Grayson dug into his pocket and pulled out a business card. Handing it to Ace, he sniffed again. "I called the number, told the fellow what I wanted, he told me it would cost fifty thousand dollars." "I thought you said you had money problems." "Fifty thousand is a drop in the bucket compared to what I owe. But then it got strange; they called back and said their operative wanted to do the job for free based on the publicity. I thought that sounded great. I had no idea the demon I'd be setting loose on Alice." Ace had to get out of there or he was going to pound on the man's head so hard it would break him in half. "Here's how this is going to work. You are going to go down to Sarasota on the next flight. You are going to stay there with your sister. She's not nice and you're an ingrate. You're perfect together. You'll stay there until Alice decides what she wants to do with you. And know this"—he pointed a finger right in his face— "Wherever you go, I will find you. There isn't a machine in the world that won't tell me where you are." "I won't run, Mr. Hudson." He sniffed. "Is there any chance you can keep Alice from pressing charges?" If Ace had his way, she'd be pressing charges the second they got out of the

building. "Sarasota. Stay. There." ***** Landing outside of his house, he ripped the blindfold off her eyes. She sputtered as he placed her on her own two feet. "Goddamn it, Ace." She grabbed onto his chest and shook him. "Don't ever, ever throw me in an elevator like that again. I didn't know I was claustrophobic." "I'm sorry. Your safety was my only concern. The frickin' Mask tried to get at you the whole time you were in there." He stalked away. This was bad. He had to get out of here before he could go any further with this. He needed to find some music and he needed to find some now. "Ace?" He swung around to look at her. "Go in the house. Lael will be home in an hour. Wait for me." "No, you don't get to run off until you tell me what happened." There was no way to sugarcoat it. "Grayson hired someone to scare you, to drive up ratings, so he could get a larger check. He's racked up a ton of gambling debt." She closed her eyes, as if doing so would negate his words. That's what she did, he knew by now, when she couldn't stand what she was hearing. She closed her eyes like a child might. If she couldn't see it, maybe it wasn't true. Only she was an adult and she knew better. "He sold me out to pay off some debt." She screamed as she opened her eyes. It was a guttural sound of pure agony. He rushed forward. Whatever his own pain was, he was going to have to push it aside. Pulling her into his arms, he held her tightly. "We'll get him arrested and I'll find The Mask. It'll be over before you know it." "No." She pushed at his chest with no actual strength. He wasn't sure if she was

hitting him or simply striking out at life in general. "It's never over for me. Don't you understand? My own family, who I support, thought to have me injured." "Your mother didn't do that. She's just mean." Ace massaged the back of her head. "Your uncle is a tool. I'm going to fix his mistake." "I'm not crying. I can't cry anymore about this." That was good. He wasn't sure he could stand any more of her tears. "Okay, so then—" She jumped up, grabbing his neck for support, and wrapped her legs around his waist. He stumbled backwards but quickly righted himself. "Alice . . . ." She shook her head. "No talking. I want you. I know you want me. Maybe we'll be a good fit. Maybe we can make today okay for one another." Ace wasn't sure he wanted Alice to have sex with him because she was feeling down, but then her mouth met his and he couldn't think at all. Her lips were soft and yet strong, demanding. Right then, her mouth beheld no subtlety, informing him she wanted him to use his tongue for something other than speaking. Carrying her in his arms, he managed to somehow get the front door open by using one hand in a contorted way he wasn't sure he could duplicate again if he tried. His hands shook and he hoped it was the only physical sign of the control he was grasping for to fight back the surge of adrenaline threatening to overtake him. The bedroom was downstairs. The couch was closer. Dropping down on the piece of furniture with Alice still on top of him, he captured her in a tight embrace, kissing her with all the passion he felt inside. She pulled back to look at him, worry pushing away the passion from her eyes. "How will you know . . . if we're compatible?" He stroked the side of her face with the pads of his thumb and index finger. "Don't worry about that, honey." "I want this to be good for you too." "It will."

He wished he'd never told her about his sexual "issue." Most of his partners never knew. They thought he had as good a time as they had. But he'd never wanted a woman like he wanted Alice. If he was never able to lose himself inside her, then fine. Just to be with her felt like an honor. He spoke again. "Are you sure you want this? It's fine to change your mind." "No." She shook her head, grinning. "I really want you, Ace. You're totally not my type, and I don't understand it, but I can't stop thinking about you." "I suppose I deserve that." "You do." She kissed him. She tasted like cherries and vanilla beans. Tantalizing, all consuming. Kissing her back, he knew even if he could never lose himself inside of her, he could forget the world existed with each touch of her lips. Her skilled hands tugged at his t-shirt and he grinned. There was something exciting in having Alice on top for their first time together. At least, for now. She had initiated this sexual session; it was only right she get to run it as she saw fit. Still, he had to laugh. "In a hurry?" "Yes." She nodded, her mouth looking kiss swollen. "I don't want to make out like a bunch of high school kids on the couch. I want you inside me." "We'll get there. I want to play with you first. I want to get to know your body." It might kill him not to just find release but he was determined to make this fantastic. "Really?" Her smile lit up the room. "Are you for real? I'm offering you fast, mind-blowing sex, and you're suggesting we make out for a while first?" With the pent up aggression running through his veins, the fact he hadn't ripped her clothes from her body and pushed inside her all in under a minute was a tribute to his self control, which he could feel rapidly running out. "We'll compromise." She arched an eyebrow as she tugged at his shirt again. This time he helped her pull it over his head. "I won't make this an hour-long escapade, and you won't ask me to be wham, bam, thank you ma'am about it either."

"You're suggesting that we meet in the middle on this issue." He nodded. "I am." "Fine." Reaching up, he pulled her shirt over her head and sucked in his breath. Her breasts . . . heaven, her breasts. All good intentions were going out the window. Tugging at her bra, he snapped it in two. "Sorry." She glanced down at the broken material. "One of those superhero things?" "Usually I can control my own strength but with you . . . ." He looked down at his hands. They still shook. She bit on her lip as he grabbed her breasts. Her pink, pert nipples called to him. He sat up slightly to push them together, sticking his nose in her cleavage. Her breasts were a handful. Alice looked like a woman was supposed to look. All round curves and softness. She ran her hands on the muscles of his chest and he shivered. "I guess I make you lose it then?" "You could say that." Alice's cheeks were flushed. "You're so strong." He couldn't speak, not when there were Alice's breasts to pay attention to. He suckled one and then the other. She moaned and squirmed above him. "I can't tell you how many times I fantasized about this," he said, moving between breasts. She closed her eyes, rubbing against the bulge in his pants. "I hope I live up to the expectations." "You're already surpassing them." He placed one of his legs between hers. She smiled and rocked against him. "That feels so good." He watched her for a moment, growing even harder as she moved on his thigh. She was so beautiful, such a sight to behold. He wanted inside her. His blood surged in his veins. Pulling her even closer to him, he kissed her shoulder, biting down slightly as he tugged at her pants.

"Now who's in a hurry?" "Me." He would gladly admit it. A thought occurred to him suddenly. "I need a condom." She gasped, covering her mouth, her eyes alight with amusement as she helped him remove her pants. "Do you not have any?" "I do. But they're in my room." He leapt up and repositioned her down on the couch. Wow, running with his erection pulsating inside of his jeans—not a comforting thought. "Wait here." "Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere." She lay back on the sofa. Damn, he really needed to hurry. He rushed downstairs to his room and pulled open the drawer next to his bed so abruptly, it dislodged from the nightstand, sending the contents all over the floor. He fell to his knees, rummaging through the mess and finally found what he sought. He picked up the unopened box that held two strings of condoms and ran from the room. He took the stairs in one long jump and in two strides dove on top of Alice, catching himself with his elbows before he landed splat on top of her. "Miss me?" She grinned, kissing him again. "So much." Chapter Eight She wanted Ace's pants off. Biting her lip, she tugged at his button, relaxing only when he undid his zipper and removed his jeans. She took a look at where they were. Ace's run to the bedroom for condoms had changed their positions on the couch. He was on top of her now. His blond hair, which she had hated the length of when she'd first saw it, now hung down on top of her, covering the sides of her body, and she loved it. "You're prettier than I am." He shook his head. "Don't be ridiculous."

"You are. All that beautiful hair." He shook his head before leaning down to bite her shoulder. "I get it; you don't like the hair." It had grown on her but she wasn't going to tell him that, not yet. He kissed where he had bit her and then continued down her chest, covering her with kisses until he reached her breasts. She closed her eyes. God, when was the last time she had done this? She could hardly remember, which meant it hadn't been this good. And they hadn't even gotten to the good parts yet. As he sucked on one of her nipples, she moaned, grabbing the back of his head. "Like that, do you, honey?" She nodded her response. "Good, because I want to play with the other one too." He pinched her other nipple. She thought she heard him laugh as her back arched off the couch. She raised an eyebrow at him. "Am I amusing you?" "No, I'm simply having the time of my life here. That's all." "Here I thought you were something of a sex addict." Moving down from her breasts, he kissed his way to her belly button. "I could get addicted to doing this with you." She hoped that was the case. Truthfully, ever present in the back of her mind, was the possibility that she wouldn't be a good match for Ace. She might not be able to handle him. His voice brought her back to the moment. "You're thinking too hard." "How can you tell?" "Your eyes"—he pointed at them—"they've lost some of their heat." "I'm worrying—" He interrupted her. "Shit, I wish I'd never told you about that." "No." She shook her head. "I'm glad you did. I'd hate to think it was one way and have it turn out another."

"I'm not worrying about it; you shouldn't either." His hands traveled up her legs, sending shivers everywhere. It was hard to worry when he did that. It was hard to do much of anything, actually, except feel. And speaking of hard—She looked down at Ace's erect length, pushing at his grey briefs. "That looks like it might hurt." Who was that woman saying these kinds of things to Ace? She'd never heard herself use that particular tone before. "Would you like to make it feel better?" Nodding, she reached forward and tugged until his underwear came off. His freed hard-on bounced, stiff and huge. Of course, she should have expected that, considering how large Ace was in general. Still, she couldn't take her eyes off of the erect, male length staring up at her. "I can't be the only one who is completely naked." Ace ripped her panties off her body. She laughed. "You're so impatient. You can't blame that one on losing control." "Maybe I just like the feeling of tearing your clothes from your body." Moving backwards on the couch, he repositioned himself between her legs. Heavens, there was no mistaking what he was going to do. "Alice, I have wanted a taste of you since we met." "Ace, um . . . ." Wow. His tongue played havoc inside her, swirling and moving. She wasn't even sure what all he was doing. Ace made a sound akin to a growl, which served only to make her hotter. Oh, god. She was going to come. With one last swirl of his tongue, he bit down on her clit. Her hips left the sofa as she came. Her hands grabbed the couch as she screamed his name. Her core clenched in response. She opened her eyes. Ace had moved. He stared at her. "Honey, you taste so sweet. I could never get enough of you." That had a sound of permanence to it. Not able to deal with that at the moment,

she laughed as she pushed up at him. "Let's see if I can return the favor." "No." He shook his head. "You touch me and it's over before it's even begun. I need to be inside of you." "Then let's do it, superhero; let's see what we can do." Ace raised an eyebrow at her challenge as she pushed him on the couch. He smiled. "Like to be on top?" "Today I do." That was true and she wasn't sure why. Leaning down, she planted kisses on his chest and his abdomen before she came to his large erection. "Give me the condom." She put out her hand and he gave her the box. "Couldn't get the box open?" "My hands are shaking, in case you hadn't noticed." Smiling, she decided it was nice to have this much power over a man who was so much stronger than everyone else. She ripped open the cardboard container and pulled out a row of foil packages. Without wasting a single move, she promptly tore the top one open and discarded the rest to the floor. She slipped it on him, and he moaned and closed his eyes. "Like that?" she asked. He opened his blue depths to regard her. Shivers traveled up her spine from the intensity of his gaze. "I'll like it more when it's deep inside you." She nodded as she straddled him. There wasn't anything more to say or think about. They'd come to this moment and she wanted it. As he slipped inside her, she felt the initial pinch as her body adjusted. God, it had been a very long time since she'd done this. Ace moaned, grabbing her thighs, squeezing them with his strong hands. "Ride me, gorgeous." And she felt gorgeous as he stared at her with heat in his eyes. She moved up until she almost pulled all the way off, then she pushed back down on him again. A jolt of pleasure filled her from the inside out. Wow, she was really, really wet. It was no

surprise. This is hot. She set up an easy rhythm; one she suspected had been honed through time by millions of couples. For right now, however, there was only the two of them. Together. On the couch. Making the heavens move to their embrace. "Faster, baby, faster." His voice sounded hoarse, which only made her more turned on. She had done this to him. He was a superhero and he pleaded with her for more. Yes, she would give it to him. Sitting higher on her knees, she made her movements faster, sharper, more intense. Reaching up, she grabbed her breasts as Ace's hands played havoc with her stomach and back. She couldn't stand it. The pressure built inside her, driven by the fire she and Ace created together. "Shit. Alice. I need to move faster." She could barely speak. "Do it." Ace grabbed her by her waist and flipped her over backward, awkwardly. For a second they were just badly strewn body parts—arms and legs that weren't sure where they should be placed. Then it all came together, and she gasped as Ace plunged deep inside her pussy. Wrapping her legs around him as he pushed her to the edge of the couch, she felt his hand catch her head before she banged against the armrest. Yes, this was what she wanted. In and out, over and again, he moved. She bit down on her lip. Her muscles clenched. She wanted to come. Ace spoke nonsense to her. She had no idea what he said. Some seemed dirty, some of it sweet. It all had the same effect. His voice only added to the intensity. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. She knew seconds before it happened. Her insides exploded in a frenzy of feelings and colors, the likes of which she had never before experienced. Her back arched from the couch. "Yes," she screamed, and then screamed his name, thanking the heavens, all at the same time. Moments later, Ace followed with a window-rattling shout. His arms came

around her as he fell forward and tugged her into a tight embrace. She closed her eyes, desperately hoping she wouldn't have to think for the next several hours. She wasn't sure she'd be capable. "Um . . . I'm home." Ace's head shot up as he stared over the couch. "Shit." Alice opened one eye, as the post-coital bliss she'd envisioned fled from the room. She whispered. "It's Lael, isn't it?" Ace didn't look at her. "You're not supposed to be home for another hour." Opening the other eye, she noticed Ace's coloring had turned a distinctive red. He was embarrassed. She supposed she should be also, but both Ace and the couch concealed her. Lael couldn't see her at all. Plus, it wasn't like he was five years old. He was a teenager. He might even have sex. Inwardly, she shrugged. Maybe she'd be humiliated later. "They cancelled my last period. The teacher never showed up, so one of my friends drove me home early." Lael had laughter in his voice. "I'm going to go down to my room and let you crazy people get dressed." With that, she heard fast footsteps heading from the stairs. Ace finally glanced at her. His hair was everywhere, half of it covering his face. "I guess we really didn't think this through very well." "It'll give him something to embarrass you with for the rest of your life." "I suppose." He bent down to kiss her and she let herself close her eyes to the feel of his strong lips on hers. It felt nice to just exist for a moment. "At least he didn’t arrive any earlier." She opened her eyes at that thought. Yes, that would have been worse. "So?" He arched an eyebrow. "So?" "Are you a parrot? Were you able to do it to your satisfaction with me or not?" Ace ran a hand through his hair. "Did you worry about that the whole time?" "No." She shook her head. "Answer the damn question."

His grin spoke volumes. At the moment, he looked like a little boy who had a secret he knew he could taunt her with. "What will you give me if I tell you?" She pushed at his chest. "Let me up." "Yes, Alice, I was able to, as you so charmingly put it, do it to my heart's content." She swallowed, unsure if she had stopped breathing for a second. "Really?" He raised his hand. "I do not lie." Good news. She blinked. Very good news. It meant he would want to do it with her again. Her heart beat hard. So, why was she panicking? Ace sat up straight. "What is it?" "Phone in the basement is ringing." He jumped up, grabbing his pants as he did. Awkwardly, he stumbled back into them. "How can you hear it?" He pointed to his ears. "Super hearing." "Really?" She laughed as she called after him. "How can you hear anything through all that hair on your head?" Truthfully, she loved his hair now. But it felt more comfortable to tease him. That had been their natural banter. Changing it . . . well, that would mean something and she wasn't going to be that woman. Sex was sex. Love was love. And lately, for Alice it was "never the twain shall meet". Really good sex, she'd learned in her twenties—and granted this was mindblowing—did not have to warrant mushy feelings that ended with her eating chocolate ice cream, watching Humphrey Bogart, and sobbing at infomercials. Ace sprinted back into the room, now fully dressed. She shot up on the couch. "What is it?" "Someone launched a missile at the United States. I have to bring it down for the military." She jumped up, grabbing her clothes off the floor. "What?" "Usually Draco brings down the missiles. But today it's my turn."

She stared in horror as he busted out the door without another word. She didn't know what part of what he'd said horrified her more. First, a missile headed toward them. She bit down on her lip at a thought too horrible for words. Her palms began to sweat. Second, Ace had said Draco usually handled the missiles. How many times did this sort of thing happen? She dressed fast, feeling really exposed now that Ace had left the house. Perhaps, however, the most disturbing thing was the grin on Ace's face as he'd run from the house. He'd reminded her of a child who had just been told he got to play with the cool toy his brother usually hid from him. She rubbed her arms. He was heading out to, hopefully, put down something that could cause tremendous amounts of harm and he was happy about it. How could anyone function, whose happiness came from handling this kind of situation in his or her day-to-day life? "You're dressed, right?" She swung around. Lael had entered the room, his eyes covered with his hands. She grinned. There was something so likable about the teenager. He made her think of what Ace must have been like as a young a young man. "I am. The coast is clear." He took his hands down. "That's good because I really don't need to see my future sister-in-law naked." Alice felt like the world shifted beneath her feet. She gripped onto the side of the couch for support. "Lael, I'm afraid you've gotten the wrong idea. Your brother and I are very good friends. I'm his client, which complicates things. I'm not going to be your sister-in-law." "Yeah?" Lael shook his head. "I've never seen him look at anyone like he looks at you. I've never come home and found him on the couch with any of his other clients before." She needed to change the subject immediately. "Why did you lie to him?"

Lael stood very still, the smile falling off his face. "What?" She walked into the kitchen. No matter where she was, the kitchen always became her safe spot. "You heard me." Lael walked up behind her, stopping at the island. "How did you know I lied?" She shrugged. "I was a teenager once. I know when someone's cutting class." Lael tapped his hands on the island. "Are you going to tell him?" "I'm not your mother, Lael." She opened the fridge to see what was inside. Food seemed to magically appear in there. She was going to have to ask someone how that happened. "I think you should tell him before the school calls and tells him." "What are you going to cook?" She pulled out one of the drawers and found something that looked appealing. "Chicken sound good?" "Food always sounds good. I don't usually care what I'm eating." She groaned. "That's so far from how I feel, I can't even begin to relate to that statement." Silently, she moved to the island and stood next to Lael. "Get me a pan to cook these in and some olive oil, please." He nodded and scurried around the kitchen to do as she asked. "I hate math. The teacher gives me a hard time. I really fell behind in it when I ran away." She raised an eyebrow as she poured the olive oil into the pan. "And you thought it was a good idea to miss more school so you could fall even further behind? Seems pretty stupid." He banged his hand on the counter. "I'm not dumb." "No." She shook her head. "I didn't say you were dumb. I said missing school when you've already missed was dumb." After seasoning it with salt, she dropped the chicken gently into the pan. "And you clearly have a temper." In a move she'd learned from her mother, she stared down at the hand he'd banged on the counter as if it was a bug she wanted to squish. "I'm sorry about that. I shouldn't display my anger like that."

"You're very strong. You have to be careful how you express yourself." Cooking helped. It calmed her, to concentrate on accomplishing a goal, instead of over thinking things. "I don't think Draco was ever young, and Ace is rapidly forgetting how to be fun." Alice shook her head. "It's called being a grown up." A vision of Ace's joyful face as he left to go do something about the missile filled her mind. He, obviously, had his own version of fun at this point. It wasn't what anyone else considered amusement. Apparently, however, it worked for him. "What happens next? Ace brings down the missile and then what?" Lael walked to the fridge and took out a soda. "I doubt if he's bringing it down alone. He probably has Zee or one of the other Superheroes with him. When they get done they'll probably hit a dance club and then stumble in sometime in the middle of the night. It's his MO." Alice's knife slipped, hitting the side of her finger. She dropped it and hissed as she put the now-bleeding wound into her mouth and ran to the sink to wash her hands. Damn it, when was the last time she'd done something like that? "He's going to go to a dance club?" While she was here and they'd just had sex? She knew there was something else she should say but heaven help her she couldn't think of what it was. Lael nodded. "You okay?" "Yes." She pulled the cut out of her mouth to look at it. "Could you get me a Band-Aid?" "Sure thing." As Lael turned to leave the room, Alice paced back and forth around the kitchen. She needed to get control of herself immediately. It was the stress of the whole situation. That's all. There was a madman after her—set in his course of action by her own family—and she'd had sex with a Superhero. Really, she didn't care what Ace did. It didn't make one little difference to her

whether he handled dangerous situations, and it wasn't her business, at all, whether or not he met women at dance clubs . . . when he could come back here and be with her instead. Lael returned holding the bandage. "Here you go." "Thank you." She smiled, even though she felt sick to her stomach. Ace had to catch The Mask so she could go home. She needed out of his house. Fast. Chapter Nine Ace sat atop the missile. He placed his hand on it, letting the mechanics of the projectile rocket speak to him. It was going to be no problem to destroy it. All he had to do was to turn it off. The wind hit him hard in the face and he coughed as some kind of insect flew into his throat. He bet those sorts of things never happened to Draco. "You got this under control?" Ace glanced up to see Zee, one of Powers, Inc.'s most loyal Superheroes, flying next to him. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at her. "Oh, ye, of little faith." She laughed and rubbed her nose. "Are you ready?" "I'll turn it off, you catch it." "I'm on it." With a kick of her feet in the air, she flew two feet down until she was directly beneath the flying missile. Turn off. It was so easy to speak to the machines. They never argued. Never did anything he didn't want them to do. But then again, they didn't hold him close at night or smile at him first thing in the morning either. And they certainly didn't challenge him and make him hard as hell at the same time. He shook his head. He shouldn't be thinking about her right now. Only he couldn't seem to stop. He wondered if she'd gone to his room to wait for him or if she'd

ever gotten off the couch. Beneath him the missile let out a loud groan and sputtered as its forward momentum ceased. Two seconds later, it plummeted from the sky. Beneath it, Zee raised her hands and caught the object before it carried on toward the ground. He jumped off, not wanting to add to the tremendous weight she already shouldered. Instead, he flew next to her, helping to hold half the missile. They set it on the ground. The government retrieval team awaited. He smiled at the general who shook his hand. "Usually, we deal with Draco." Although he kept his smile big, inwardly he sighed. "Yes, I know. Today you got to deal with me instead. I charge slightly less than he does." "That's true but you had to call in a second Superhero to assist. That's going to cost the taxpayers twice as much." Zee interrupted. "I'm pro bono today." "Well." The general who Ace knew was actually on a first name basis with Draco sputtered. "I suppose that is different then." "Right, then I suppose I'll leave you to it." The general stepped forward. "When does Draco return from wherever he is?" Ace shrugged. "I'm afraid Draco Powers doesn't discuss his plans with anyone else. I'm currently running Powers, Inc. I assure you, General, we will take care of your needs until he returns." He'd lied for so long and so often about Draco that he was downright good at it now. The internal pain that used to show up and make a home in his stomach whenever he was called upon to pretend he wasn't Draco's brother didn't happen anymore. Turning on his heel, he took off into the sky with Zee right behind him. After a while, he slowed his flight to a more casual pace. "Good work back there." He smiled at Zee. He'd always suspected her background had to be something

Middle Eastern. He'd once told her that her skin was the color of the desert at night. She hadn't appreciated the compliment and told him in no uncertain terms to leave his charm at home when it came to her. But he didn't know, actually, where she was from, and she was more close-mouthed about her background than anyone he knew. They had a quiet, easy friendship. He wasn't going to screw it up. "Thanks. Hot date with a pretty lady tonight?" She smiled. "No. I'm officially not dating." "Why?" "I need a break," she said. He thought of Alice back at home. God, he didn't want a break. Not at all. He wanted more. So much more. Zee spoke again. "Which club are we hitting tonight?" "I was thinking about skipping it?" Her eyes got huge. "Skipping it? Are you crazy? How will you let lose the adrenaline?" He had a very good idea how he could handle his problem. But it wasn't like he wanted Alice to feel like he used her sexually to take care of his issues. Maybe he should go to the club with Zee and see if he could come home calm, cool, and relaxed. Then he'd still take her about hundred times before they went to bed . . . . "All right, we'll go to the NightOwl." It was a little bit more laid back than some of the other places they went. "I take it you're not dating either then?" NightOwl was mostly for people who wanted to listen to music. It was less of a pickup place. "I've met someone." It felt so funny to say that. In fact, he wasn't sure he'd ever uttered those words before. He wanted to sing to the stars. He, Ace Hudson, who had lived his life in spurts and stops, looking for pleasure wherever he could find it and not holding onto it very long, was in love.

How and when that had happened was not clear to him. All he knew was that somewhere between sparring with her verbally, flying her to Florida, and having the best sex of his life, he'd fallen head over heels for the curvy brunette. "You're grinning like a buffoon." Zee rolled her eyes. "It must be serious. It's not that cook you're protecting, is it?" They landed side by side outside the NightOwl. Nodding to the bouncer, they walked in. The music hit him immediately. The loud bass made his blood cool. He wasn't sure why that happened. All he knew was that it worked and he wasn't going to complain. He shouted to be heard. "Why did you say it like that—'It's not that cook?' What if it were?" "I'd say you're in deep shit, buddy." She smiled at the bartender who immediately made their standard drinks. Zee liked a good, cool beer and Ace preferred vodka straight up over ice. "Why?" He sat at a table in the corner where he hoped they wouldn't be recognized by anyone wanting an autograph. Zee settled across from him. "It's not like you can be part of her life." What? He had no idea why Zee would say that. Shifting in his seat, he felt like he was back in high school when he'd been called into the principal's office for skipping class. "You say that like I'm supposed to know why that is." Zee shook her head. "Shit, Ace. It's Alice Styles, isn't it?" "Just explain yourself." "See." Zee pointed at him. "There's the problem. You won't even tell me it's Alice. Everyone at Powers, Inc. has to guard their personal secrets so closely that even if we're friends we know nothing important about each other" "That's true. It's for our protection. Not everyone can be trusted. We don't want people who would harm us to have our personal information." "Would I harm you?"

He shook his head. "No." "But I might. If I left Powers and went to one of the competitors starting up. I could tell them your strengths, your weaknesses, someone could use that against you. Or if I knew where you lived, I could post it on a blog somewhere. You'd have groupies showing up." The waiter brought the drinks and Ace immediately took a sip of his. "None of this is new. It's always been this way." "Did Draco marry his Handler?" He shrugged. Here came the lying again. "How would I know?" "Because you always know things about Draco." If that was true then he was even worse at pretending than he'd thought he'd been. "What's your point?" And he hoped she had one because as his mood rapidly deteriorated he wanted to be here less and less. "How could you date Alice Styles? No one can know anything about you. The second you are photographed together she'd be at risk. She lives her life in the public eye. You never can. Not as long as you're Ace Hudson, totally recognizable to everyone who sees you. Not as long as the rule is that no one can know you, not really." Ace leaned back in his chair. Shit. She had a point. How could he do that to Alice? She would be in potential danger. It was the same terror Draco had about Wendy. He drummed his fingers on the table, wishing he could scream. Nothing he could do about it. He loved Alice. Even though he didn't know when that had started, he was sure he didn't want it to go away. "Keep it light." Zee's advice was good but it was too late for that. At least for him. He swallowed another sip of his drink as he pretended to turn his attention to the DJ. He had no idea how Alice felt. She'd initiated their lovemaking so they could make each other feel better. That wasn't exactly a declaration of love. Not that he'd expect it to be so easy.

Not with Alice. Just when he thought he'd scaled a particular wall, she'd re-erect it. "Besides." Evidently, Zee wasn't done speaking. "If you keep it light and don't get too emotionally involved, you'll be able to do what you have to do." He had no idea what she meant. Taking a large gulp of his drink, which burned all the way down, he swallowed and then spoke. "What's that?" She laughed as she got to her feet. "Come on now, Ace. You know what has to be done. What would Draco do?" "Why does it matter what Draco would do?" He was really getting fucking tired of hearing about him today. "I'm not Draco. He's 'Superman', remember? According to everyone over the course of the last few days I'm only 'Batman'. Superman and Batman don't approach problems the same way." "True." She nodded. "Though, I wouldn't call you Batman. Batman was super sexy. Even I would probably do Batman, and I don't swing that way." "I think you just openly insulted me." She sat back down, evidently deciding she wasn't going to leave. "You and I both know that I don't even date women with hair as long as yours. You're not my type." He wasn't Alice's either. Only that hadn't seemed to stop them. Women were always making derogatory remarks about his hair—much more frequently than men did—and yet—and he wasn't bragging, it was just fact—he had a very active sex life. Even if he now wanted only one woman for the rest of his life. "Okay." He shrugged. "I'd rather not focus on that right now, thanks. I'd prefer it if you could tell me why I need to emulate Draco to get this job done." Leaning forward on her arms, she stared him straight in the eyes. It was a little disconcerting. Zee was never this serious. "You and I both know that if a client like Alice Styles had shown up in the normal run of things, when Draco was in town, she'd have been Draco's client. You'd have been subcontracted to stop the machines, while he focused on bringing down The Mask." "Ha!" He couldn't help it if his laugh sounded bitter. "So now in the scenario I am Robin? I've got news for you, Zee; I do a lot of work no one knows about. Draco has me

handling a multitude of things that happen late at night while you're all safe and snug in your beds." She sat back, holding her hands in the air in a gesture of surrender. "Hey, don't get so defensive." "I can get upset about this if I want to. You just insulted me, again, and you still haven't told me what Draco would do about Alice, since apparently you are now the expert on the subject." She slammed her hands on the table. "You used to be a lot easier to talk to. Something about this woman has gotten your panties in a wad." "I'm not wearing any underwear, Zee." She laughed, covering her face with her hands for a moment before standing up. "Draco would have long ago used the woman as bait to draw out the lunatic. If you can't do that because you're too smitten with the brown haired diva who makes ricecrispy treats so people treat her like she's some kind of goddess, then go find someone else who can. That's the only way you're getting him out of his lair. You know it; I know it; and Draco would be done with it by now." With that, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the club. Fuck. He stood. His blood might have cooled down but now, he was pissed as hell. Fisting his hands at his side, he wanted to throw something. Draco would never have put Wendy out there as bait. Draco's utter terror at the thought had made him temporarily end his relationship with Wendy. Not that Ace would ever be able to discuss that with anyone since no one outside of Ace and Lael even knew Draco had married Wendy. The hiding of his family had been bugging Ace for years. He walked out of the club. What was the point of living a life if you could never discuss it with anyone? It wasn't like he wanted to shout from the rooftops that Draco had tied the knot. No, but it might be nice to have a picture of the occasion or to be able to even tell

someone, "Hey, my brother got married,"' without having to be afraid they might say, "Hey Ace, I didn't know you had any siblings." Not to mention, Zee had just made him crazy thinking he might not be able to publically date Alice. There was no way that woman who was followed around by cameras—because of her gourmet home cooked meals, not her rice-crispy treats—was going to want to be with anyone she had to hide. He was certain Zee was correct in her judgment. He ran two steps and took off into the air. When he got high enough for no one to hear his roar, he let out his frustration with a giant yell. Fuck Zee for acting like he wasn't doing his job. He had uncovered in almost no time at all who had hired The Mask. He had kept Alice safe. He would find the man and he would do it without hurting the woman he was paid to protect. Although Zee did have a point. If they could find a way to absolutely protect her but still use her as a means of bringing out The Mask . . . . No, he wouldn't consider it. Alice was everything. His everything. He'd find another way. He spotted his house below and landed, keeping his footsteps steady. Lael would hear him and know just by the way he set down that he was angry. There was no point in getting the kid any more upset than he must already be to have spotted Ace and Alice together on the couch. He supposed he was going to have to discuss that with him. He opened the front door, took off his shoes and set them beside the hallway. "How was the club?" Looking up, he spotted Alice sitting in a lounge chair, her feet crossed over each other, her head tilted to the side. He felt one brow arch. Was it his imagination or did her tone sound downright hostile? He crossed the room until he stood over her. For a second, he let her vanilla scent seep into his pores. It was heaven to be this close to her.

"How did you know that's where I went?" She stretched her arms upwards, giving him a good look at her breasts. He could remember how soft they felt when he squeezed their supple weight in his hands. Instantly, his dick was as hard as a rock. "Lael told me that's what you always do after a mission." He sat down on the arm of the chair so he could stroke her cheek. She flinched away from his touch. His heart beat fast and he was less concerned with his erection than her reaction to him. What the hell was going on? "What's the matter?" He tried to think quickly for possible explanations for the utter change in Alice's demeanor in the hours he'd been gone. "I didn't go there to meet women. I went there to calm down from the adrenaline issue." She pushed back on the chair and stood. "I don't care what you did, Ace. You're welcome to fuck as many women in one day as you want." "Hey." Now his patience was running out. "That belittles what happened between us and you know it." "I don't know anything." She shrugged, her eyes cold. "I know that I spent part of the afternoon having sex with an adrenaline junkie. It was clearly a big mistake." "Adrenaline junkie? I'm not that at all. I thought I had explained to you—" She held up her hand to stop him from speaking. "It was good sex, fine. Really." "Fine?" He picked her up in his arms, carrying her until her back was against the wall. "You and I both know it was better fine. I can smell a lie." He wanted to kiss away her attitude, take it from her and throw it away where it would never be spotted again. Her eyes flared. "Good for you. Must be a real convenient freakish ability to be born with." Her words hurt. Badly. They stung like she'd just put a knife in his chest. How had she known? Deep inside, where he hid everything, he'd always thought of himself that way. He swallowed. "What has gotten into you? Why is the bitch back?" "I don't know what you're talking about." She kicked, catching him in the shin. It

didn't hurt. Still, she'd gotten her message across. She wanted to be put down, and he wasn't in the habit of abusing women. He placed her gently on the floor. "The last time you behaved like this it was because you were scared. What's frightening you now?" She slapped him hard across the face. He imagined a normal guy would hurt for hours after a smack like that. To him, it stung, but the pain didn't linger. He backed up. Even if she couldn't hurt him, that didn't mean he had to sit around and wait for her to keep trying. "Don't you dare psychoanalyze me, Ace Hudson." Her eyes were molten pools of lava. She was really, really angry. "Don't you put your hands on me in anger again." "Or you'll do what?" "Nothing. I'll do nothing because I'm in love with you and I don't hurt the people I love. I'm just asking you as one reasonable person to another that you control your temper. I get that you're scared." He'd never sounded so calm in his life and even he couldn't believe it. "In love with me?" She took two steps to her right and he wondered if she was going to attempt to escape from the room. "You're not in love with me and even if you are, I'm not in love with you. You think I want this?" She pointed around the room. "I want to live in this house with you and all your family hiding from the world while you flit about above the city with your hair dangling down so everyone knows it's you?" Ace wasn't sure he could breathe anymore. Was it possible for someone to cause endless, never ceasing amounts of pain in one conversation? He'd just told her he loved her. Something he'd said to no other woman in his entire life—except his dead mother—and Alice had said—? He must be breathing or he'd be dead. Or maybe he had died. He blinked a couple of times. Maybe that's why he couldn't speak, couldn't move, couldn't seem to do anything but stand there and take the abuse from someone who, foolishly, moments earlier, he'd imagined having a future with . . . .

She wasn't finished. "I want to be done with this, Ace. You obviously can't get the job completed. Find me someone who can." With her final statement delivered, she stormed from the room like a tornado, leaving nothing but destruction in her path. He wasn't sure how or when he moved, but he found himself standing in front of the phone. He picked it up and dialed. She wanted someone else. He would get her someone. And then, he would find a way to make sure this never, ever happened to him again. Chapter Ten Alice didn't sleep the entire night. Rolling around in the bed in Ace's guestroom, she knew she'd gone too far with her terror disguised as anger. He'd told her he loved her. She swallowed, staring at the bright morning sunlight filtering in around the bottom of the window shade. When he'd said those words—I love you—it had been the most frightening thing she'd ever heard. Not because she hadn't liked it but because of how much she did. She shook her head. How did you love someone when you knew they would betray you? She closed her eyes on the tears threatening to spill. Every member of her family who had ever "loved" her had ended up hurting her, deeply. One had put a madman after her. But heavens the things she'd said . . . . She needed to get up, to apologize, to explain, to tell him . . . but what? To tell him that she would never be able to love him because she was defective. Hell, the words she'd thrown at him, she might as well have used on herself. She just had to explain. Ace was incredibly forgiving. She bolted from the bed and rushed to the door. Right before she reached it, she heard a loud knock. Oh thank god, Ace was there. Feeling a sagging amount of relief in her shoulders, she threw open the door. Ace stood in the hallway, his arms crossed over his chest. He met her eyes for a

moment before looking away, but what she saw there made her heart skip a beat. They were bloodshot, tired, and distant. "Good morning." His voice sounded hoarse. "Ace, thank god. I need to speak to you." "I've done as you asked." He stepped away from the door, revealing another person standing in there. He was tall, dark, and severe looking. She gasped as she recognized Draco Powers from his pictures. This was Ace's brother, the original owner of Powers, Inc. The man the media called "The Capitalist Superman." "Um . . . ." She wasn't sure what to say in Draco's presence. "I thought you were on your honeymoon." Draco's head whipped around as he looked at Ace. "How much more of what she shouldn't know does she know?" Ace shrugged. "Too much. Lael screwed up, maybe more than once. I'm not sure." Ace turned his cold eyes back on her. "I'll leave you in his capable hands. I'm sure he'll have your problem fixed in a matter of hours. Powers will be refunding part of the cost of your payment to you based on my inability to get the job done." She shook her head. "No, Ace, I need to speak to you." He whirled around and walked from the hall. He called over his shoulder. "You can deal with Draco now." Oh no. This was going very, very badly. Ace rounded the corner and before she could think better of it, she ran down the hall after him. He wasn't running but with his long legs he was much faster than she was. She ran smack into the hard, teenaged chest of Lael. "Oomph, I'm sorry, Lael. I need to get to Ace." He shook his head. "Sorry, I think Ace just told you to speak to Draco." "This isn't about work. I need to speak to Ace about personal stuff." Lael looked over his shoulder. "Guess you missed him. He flew from the building about three seconds ago."

Pain invaded Alice's head like a mislaunched missile. "Lael, I know you heard our argument last night. I was so out of line with your brother, I need to apologize. I need to explain." Some of the hostility left Lael's posture and his shoulder slumped a little bit. "How could you hurt him like that?" "Believe it or not, and I rather think you of all people will believe this, adults make mistakes all the time. I don't do well when I'm scared. I say stupid, cruel things." "I'm sorry, Ms. Styles." Draco's voice from behind her caught her off guard. "My teenaged brother shouldn't be speaking to you about personal things. Lael, upstairs, Wendy will make you breakfast." "I'd rather Alice make me breakfast." "Nope." Draco shook his head. "Upstairs." Grumbling, Lael turned and stormed up the stairs. Draco walked slowly toward her and Alice knew instantly what all the criminals in the world must feel when Draco Powers approached them: utter and complete terror. His gaze seemed all-seeing, like he knew every one of her secrets without her having to say a word. His posture stiff, he gave her a threatening glare. "Ms. Styles, I'm not sure what went on between you and Ace, but I think you would agree that the person to discuss it with is not my sixteen-year-old brother." She felt her cheeks heat up but not with embarrassment. Anger coursed through her veins and fired her blood. "I beg to differ, Mr. Powers. Lael has been intrinsically mixed up in this whole mess from moment one. I think he deserves the courtesy of my explanation as much as any adult would." "Ah, hell." Draco sighed loudly. "I go away for two weeks on my honeymoon, which, by the way, I am going to have to get you to sign a contract saying you won't reveal to anyone, and everything goes sideways. Ace is a mess; I have no idea what kind of situation he got involved in with regards to you, and Lael is bitching and moaning about everything." Alice shrugged. "Family sucks. What can I say?"

Some of the heat disappeared from Draco's eyes. "I used to feel like that. Then I learned better." He shook his head. "Let's go. Get dressed. I'm getting rid of the psycho on the television who is screwing up Lael's television watching. If he doesn't get his hour every day he gets cranky." "Is The Mask still saying the same thing?" "Yes." Draco nodded as he walked her back to her room. "Ace tells me the guy hasn't made a move since he thwarted the subway incident. That tells me he's crazy but not all that competent." She swallowed. "It scares me to think we might be underestimating him." "I assure you, this will end today." "How are you going to do that?" Draco smiled a wolfish grin. "I'm going to use you as bait to lure the sucker out." Alice leaned against the doorframe. "Will Ace be there?" "No. Ace has asked for an extended period of absence." She closed her eyes. Some way, when this was over, she would find him. The need felt imperative, but she wasn't willing to explore the reasons why. ***** Standing in the middle of her studio, Alice felt more vulnerable than she had in her entire life. Even when she'd been first attacked she hadn't felt this alone. True, she hadn't known the complexity of what had transpired. Now she did, and all she wanted in the world was Ace Hudson not to fight The Mask. No, she wanted him to hold her, to look at her like he'd looked at her during their days together. "Is Ace okay?" She whispered into the small transmitter radio Draco had affixed to her wrist. "I haven't heard from him. I assume he's fine." Draco's voice was as it always seemed—brisk, efficient, and totally devoid of any interest or sympathy, as should be when dealing with a client he wanted to be rid of.

She wanted her Ace back. "Do you think if I gave you a note you could get it to him?" There was a pause. "This is not gym class, and no, I will not pass a note to my brother." She wasn't sure she followed all of that but the general idea was clearly no. She sighed. "Ms. Styles." Draco's voice came through. "We're going to begin now." The story they put out to the press was that she was going to film some taped shows, different from the live audience performances she usually gave. One of Draco's superheroes worked the camera. She thought the woman called herself Zee, but Alice wasn't sure. The whole morning was a giant haze of confusion. God, she really wanted to see Ace . . . . Finally, she spoke into her transmitter. "Tell me again how this works." "Again?" Draco's annoyance came through loud and clear. "Yes." "When The Mask tries to take over the camera, the camera's beacon will transmit to us his exact location and then I will go and get him." She cleared her throat. "How does the camera have a beacon?" "Ace installed it. I guess he stayed up most of the night working on it." Oh god. She covered her face with her hands. What was wrong with her? She'd had this guy—this really wonderful guy—who saved people for a living and had wanted to be with her, and she'd let her tremendous amount of baggage weigh her down to the point she'd not only rejected him, but also had shoved him three continents away. There had to be a way to fix this. There just had to be. "Are you ready?" She uncovered her face and sniffed. It wasn't like she had to particularly get ready to do anything. All they were going to do was turn the electronics on and wait for The Mask to locate and try to assault her. "I'm ready."

The lights switched on, illuminating the room in a bright assault that showed the dark circles under her eyes and the redness of her nose. She laughed, covering her mouth so no one would see her. Not that it mattered. Only Draco and Zee were present. She didn't really care if they saw her crazy snickering. Clearly, she was losing her mind. "You okay?" Draco's voice hissed over the intercom. "Great." She held up her hand in a thumbs up salute. "You don't seem okay." Zee interrupted their exchange as she grabbed the camera. "This thing is attempting to move forward on me." "I'm coming." Draco stormed through the door to examine the camera with Zee. It looked to Alice like Draco and Zee had the camera under control. Really, what did The Mask expect to happen with the device? Was she going to be strangled to death with the cord? Draco mumbled something she couldn't hear. "What did you say, Mr. Powers?" She sniffed, rubbing her arms as goosebumps raced over her exposed skin. Did the temperature in the room suddenly drop five degrees? "Something's off here." She gulped. "What is it?" As fast as she could blink, Alice watched Zee lift Draco off the floor. The Superhero had no time to react before Zee, using her other hand, zapped him with some kind of laser. Draco roared as his body seized and he hit the floor. Alice gasped and backed up a few steps. "Hello, Ms. Styles." Zee cocked her head to the side as she regarded her. Alice's hands broke out in sweat. "Now that we're alone, we can finally speak." "You?" Alice didn't recognize the sound of her own voice. It seemed like she heard it from far away. "You're The Mask?" "I am." She nodded, holstering the laser she'd used to zap Draco. "Oh, don't

worry. I didn't kill him. I don't want him dead. That was so last year. We just want to discredit his entire organization." "What does that have to do with me?" "Who better to kill than a high profile client? The elite will never trust Powers, Inc. again, not even to find their lost dogs. And the fact that Draco won't even die saving you . . . even better." Alice backed away another foot. Heavens, she needed to get out of there right this very second. There was no way she could overpower a Superhero. She was going to have to find another way. "I still don't understand what this has to do with me." Keep her talking, keep her talking. "You fell in my lap. I take these jobs all the time, waiting for the perfect opportunity, waiting for a well-known celebrity to need help since Draco would automatically step in to protect someone in the spotlight." She shook her head, a frown marring her brow. "I had no idea it would be Ace who took the job. I had to get rid of him. Discrediting Ace is a lot easier than destroying Draco. So I made him doubt himself. Apparently it worked." Whatever Zee had done, coupled by how Alice had treated him, must have sent Ace into a tailspin. If she ever got the chance, she would get down on her knees and beg for forgiveness. "Only it didn't work exactly like that." Like manna from heaven, Ace appeared in the doorway of the studio. He leaned against the edge of the frame as if a common visitor, not a Superhero interrupting a killer about to end someone's life. "Shit." Zee whirled around. In a split second, she had another weapon out and pointed at Ace. "Careful Batman, this one doesn't just stun." Ace spoke through gritted teeth. "Don't call me that." Alice wasn't sure what to do. Should she run while Ace distracted Zee? No, there was no way she was leaving Ace alone in this room with the crazy woman.

"What are you doing here?" Ace shrugged as he stepped forward. "I couldn't stay away." He met Alice's gaze for a second before turning back to Zee. "How come I never knew you could manipulate machines like I do?" "You never asked. No one ever asked what I was capable of. The other Superheroes at Powers are all second-class citizens to Draco. He keeps us all down. You know that." "I've never heard anyone complain." "It's what everyone thinks." Zee's voice sounded strained, almost forced. Alice wasn't sure who Zee tried to convince, Ace or herself. "Do you want more money?" She stomped her foot and raised the gun at Ace. Alice was no expert, but from her viewpoint, it looked like the gun now pointed directly at his chest. "I want respect." "Zee." Ace took a few steps forward. "I can talk to machines and apparently so can you. I have this problem where too much adrenaline rushes through my body and while that makes me very strong, it also makes me do unreasonable things. I have to find ways to handle it. I'm wondering if, perhaps, the same thing has happened to you." "Don't make excuses. You know how terrible Draco is." He shook his head as he continued, at a snail's pace, to inch forward. "I've never thought of Draco as terrible. In fact, I admire him more than anyone else in the world." "How can you feel that way? He rules us all with an iron fist." "He's my brother, Zee." Alice wanted to scream at Ace. What are you doing? You can't tell her that. She's the enemy. Sudden realization hit her. There was no way in hell Ace was letting the woman out of the room alive, not if he'd told her that. Oh god, poor Ace. She wondered if he'd ever done that before—taken a life, a life of someone he once trusted. She swallowed through a lump of so many jumbled emotions she couldn't identify them all. One thing she knew for certain, he would kill

this woman and it was Alice's fault. Tears slid down her cheeks. "Ace." Her voice sounded more like a croak than a word. "Quiet, Alice." "He's your brother?" Zee seemed to ignore Ace and Alice's exchange altogether. "And you kept that from me?" She shouted now. "You're not my girlfriend." He raised his hand in the air in a mock gesture of confusion. "It was a good thing I trusted my instincts and didn't let you inside the inner circle." "The inner circle, that's right." She walked forward, her gun waving. "I was never cool enough for that." "You were never trustworthy enough for that." "Ace." Alice couldn't help it. She had to tell him. What if it all ended right here? "I love you. It scares me more than Zee ever could, but I do." Ace's attention slipped for a second and his haunted blue eyes met hers. "Alice . . . ." Zee interrupted. "Now I know how I'll hurt you. I'll kill the stupid cook." Zee whirled around, almost faster than Alice could follow. For a split second, she had no doubt she was dead. Zee fired her laser. Alice hadn't so much as gasped when she hit to the floor, Ace's body on top of her. A scuffle sounded as she tried to shove Ace off her. God, he was dead weight. She screamed. "Oh god, Ace." Over and over, she called his name. He needed to wake up. She wasn't sure how long she pled in vain. He couldn't be dead. He just couldn't. He hadn't answered her. He hadn't forgiven her— Ace's body was ripped off hers and set on the ground but Draco didn't stand over her. She shook her head. "Lael?" What's he doing? Lael tore Ace's shirt off his body. She stood up and rushed to his side. "What are you doing?"

"Saving him." A black burn mark covered the center of Ace's chest, marring the beauty of his skin. She covered her mouth as she felt herself scream again. Oh god, where was Zee? Where was she? She scanned the area. The evil superhero lay motionless on the floor. Alice didn't have to look twice to know Zee was dead. Necks were not supposed to hang the way hers did. "Did you . . . ?" Lael shrugged. "She hurt my family." The horror of it was too much and the tears flowed uncontrollably down her cheeks. "Oh god, Lael. Ace would never want you to have done that." "Ace can wake up and tell me. He can punish me." She swallowed. Fine, that sounded like a great idea. Lael sounded old, so much older than he should have. "What are you going to do?" "I'm going to restart his heart." "You can do that?" He nodded. "It's my particular talent. Or my freakish ability, whichever word you would prefer." She rubbed her nose. "I'm so sorry you heard me say those things to Ace. I didn't mean them. I don't do well when I'm scared, but that's no excuse." Lael closed his eyes, holding his hand over Ace's chest. He wriggled his fingers, probably doing something else, too. Next second, Draco knelt beside her. His eyes were huge, his face pale. "What's going on?" "Lael's restarting his heart." Draco's head shot up. "You can do that?" "Quiet!" Then after a second, Lael added, "Please." "I think, considering the circumstance, I'll let him be rude to me." He turned around and appeared to hone in on Zee. "Ace killed her?" "No." Alice shook her head and nodded toward Lael.

Comprehension appeared to dawn on Draco. His eyes took on a cold, steely look. "Shit." "Ace saved me." Ace took a loud gasp for air as his body shot upwards before hitting the ground again. He screamed, a long agonizing sound, as his head whipped back and forth. His eyes opened, to say they were bloodshot would be kind. She fell to her knees. "Ace." Lael spoke, the muscles in his neck straining, his face red. "I've got his heart beating but I can't keep it that way." "Draco." Ace's voice was sandpaper rough. "You know what you have to do." Draco pounded the floor. "No." Lael shook. "Whatever it is, do it." Draco pulled out a syringe from his blazer pocket. "What are you going to give him?" "It's adrenaline." She shook her head. "He makes too much of it." "It will make his body fix itself but it will overdo him." Ace screamed. "Do it but first get her out of here. I don't want her to see me like that." Draco sighed. "Ace . . . ." "You heard me." He closed his eyes. "Either let me die or get the woman out of here. I need her like I need to be shot in the head." Draco stood. "Come on, Ms. Styles, it's time to go." Before she could stop him, Draco ran from the room, dragging her behind with a grip so tight on her arm she could do nothing but follow. Two superheroes waited in the hall and Draco pushed her into the arms of one. "Do something with her. Ace doesn't want to see her anymore." And just like that, Alice felt her entire world shatter. Tears sprang to her eyes and she didn't care that she was in public. He didn't want her anymore? He needed her.

She struggled against the strong hold the nameless superhero who worked for Draco had on her. Without a word, they pulled her down the hall. Alice felt numb. She'd left her heart in that room with Ace, and now, she was being told she'd never have it back again. Chapter Eleven Ace roared as Draco shoved the adrenaline-filled needle into his chest. He cursed, not even sure what he said, just knowing that he hurt like hell and the pain wasn't finished. His vision blurred but he could make out Lael—well, two versions of him, moving in circles—and he grabbed his brother's arm. "How did you do this?" "When I was living on my own, on the street, I found out I could bring people back if they hadn't been gone long. I could make their body work again." Ace could barely make his mouth work. His heart beat so fast. The adrenaline made his body heal itself. He couldn't explain why this happened, why his own physiology behaved the way it did, but today he was glad he functioned this way. "Why didn't you ever tell me?" "Neither you nor Draco could do it. That made me feel really weird." Draco laughed. "We're all weird, brother-of-mine, and congratulations on finding your version of it." Lael let out a sound that was half-sigh, half-laugh. "Why did you make Alice leave?" "Because it's over." Or maybe it was fairer to say, because it needed to be over. He couldn't continue down the path with her when nothing but hurt awaited him on the other side. "Or he wants it to be." Draco hauled Ace off the ground. "I was in the same place

about a year ago." As he flung Ace over his shoulder, Draco turned his head to Lael. Being treated like a bag of potatoes hurt like hell, but Ace didn't want to complain. He needed to be home when the adrenaline stopped fixing him and started making him crazed. "Men in our family don't do love well and Ace has a doozy on his hands. The girl isn't particularly easy going." Now, it was one thing for Ace to feel like he wanted to get out of the way of a relationship with Alice. It was another thing for Draco to talk about her in any way unkind. "She runs a multi-billion dollar company and her family has betrayed her in the worst possible ways. They set Zee after her. She's not easy going, I'll grant you, but she's like a hot, glowing star, the whole universe could flow around her if she wanted it to." Draco laughed and if Ace could have moved he would have pounded on his back. "What's funny about that?" "Yeah . . . you're done with her. I'll buy that." Ace rolled his eyes. "I could do without your sarcasm." "Tough. You nearly died on me; you get whatever I feel like dishing out. Besides, there's still the little matter of you being here when you weren't supposed to be and bringing Lael with you." Lael got off the floor. "I followed him. He didn't know." "I was a little distracted." Draco nodded as he kicked open a window to the studio and flew out into the night air. Flung over Draco's shoulder, Ace could see Lael following. "Thanks for saving my life." Lael smiled. "You're my brother." And that, Ace realized, was why it didn't matter that he couldn't tell people about his family. They were still his. Alice might be able to claim her relations publicly but unlikely any of them would save her life if given the chance. That's how he and her

differed. But he'd taken a laser directly in the chest for her. It had nothing to do with her being his client. He loved her. He did. Even if he never wanted to see her again. ***** The next thing Ace remembered was banging his shoulder against a steel door. Halfway through slamming into the door, he stopped. He looked around to determine where he was before sinking to the floor. He was locked in a room, and he had no memory of what he'd done or how long he'd been in lockdown. Of course, the way his body hurt, likely he'd been abusing himself physically for a good long time. Here was the safe room. Draco had built it, under Ace's direction, for just this kind of scenario. Clearly, he'd lost his mind and been unable to handle his aggression. Resting his head in his hands, he wondered how long he'd been inside. Hours? Days? Weeks? Years? The thought made him sick to his stomach. This was truly lost time and something he'd hoped never to have to actually face up to. He'd always been close to losing it—apparently, today he had. "Are you calm now?" Draco's voice bellowed into the room over an intercom. Ace nodded. "How long have I been in here?" "About twenty-four hours. I sent Wendy and Lael from the house. They were too upset seeing you like this." Ace lay flat on his back. "I'm sorry." "Not your fault." Draco sounded tired. "I was worried you weren't coming back. You kept hitting and throwing things." "I guess the adrenaline finally dropped enough that I got control." Draco opened the door to the room and walked to Ace's side. "I have a suggestion." Draco extended his hand and Ace took it, allowing Draco to pull him to his feet.

He rubbed his shoulder. It hurt. His whole body felt swollen. "About what?" "There's a guy I met once, a Superhero . . . . I think he can help you." Ace sighed as he stretched. "What does he do?" "His whole body changes when he gets mad. I'm not sure exactly what happens. Anyway, he's taught himself to control every emotion he feels. I think he might be able to help you get a handle on your condition." To Ace's utter horror, Draco pulled him into a hug. "What if next time you don't come back?" Ace couldn't actually remember the last time he and Draco had embraced. Had they been ten and eight? For a second, he couldn't move at all. Draco didn't let go, which left Ace no choice but to hug him back. Finally, Draco spoke. "You're my little brother. I don't want to lose you." Ace pulled away. "Is that what the hug's about?" "Wendy, while we are on our honeymoon, told me I don't spend enough time expressing my emotions." Ace nodded, peeling himself out of Draco's embrace. "Let's say that we're both comfortable with the amount of expression we give each other." Draco laughed, his whole face relaxing. "All right. No more hugs?" "If I ever get married, you can hug me on my wedding day." "Speaking of that—" Ace raised his hand to stop Draco before he could finish his statement. "I don't want to talk about her." Not now. Maybe not ever. "Fine. Then can we talk about Lael? He killed Zee and he refuses to talk about it." "Call Wendy, have her come back to the house with Lael. I'll talk to him." Draco rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. "You think he'll open up to you and not to me?" "Yep." Ace moved past him to leave the room. Draco passed him. "Why?"

"Because you're perfect. Even when you screw up, you always know the perfect way to fix things. Lael recognizes that in me he has found someone who is just pretending to have it together. I'm more screwed up than he is so he'll tell me things he'd never tell you." ***** Ace stepped out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist. He looked at himself in the mirror. It was time. He always knew the day would come. He could tell himself it had nothing to do with Alice and the fact that she'd always hated it. But he made it a point not to lie to himself whenever possible. He didn't want to see her. He didn't. So much for not lying to himself. He grinned at his reflection. All things eventually came to an end. He pulled on his sweatpants and walked into his bedroom, not surprised to find Lael sitting on his bed. Ace had heard his brother come into the bedroom earlier. Lael jumped when Ace entered. "I'm glad you're okay." "Mostly, thanks to you." "Yeah, well." Lael's cheeks got red. "You'd do the same for me." "I would. In a heartbeat." "I know." "Want to talk about what killing Zee was like?" "No." Lael's face got firm and shut down, like Draco's could do. "I know I'm supposed to have deep feelings about this, and that it's supposed to be life-altering. Maybe I'm suppressing it, like Wendy keeps saying, but the truth is that bitch was going to kill you—had killed you—and I moved without thinking. I don't know why obsessing about it now is—" Ace cut him off at the pass. "I'm not saying obsess. I'm saying discuss." "Have you ever done it?" Lael asked. "Ended someone's life?"

"Twice, and I intended to kill Zee." Lael stared him straight in the eyes. "Did you want to talk about it?" Ace stopped to consider what his brother asked him. Should he lie? Crap, he wasn't cut out for this big brothering pseudo-parenting stuff. "Shit, no I didn't want to talk about it. I still don't." "Me neither." "Just because I don't—" Lael shook his head. "Ace, enough." Ace closed his mouth. He regarded Lael. His younger brother wasn't grown up yet, but damn if he didn't look like an adult today. Ace wasn't the kid's father. No, Ace's own dad had done all the damage in that department. The best he could be was an attentive older sibling. "I'm here if you want to." "If I suddenly want to talk about that, I'm sure Draco will find me a psychiatrist." Ace laughed as he nodded. "That's true." "What else did you want? Did you have Draco send me in here to talk about that or was it something else?" Ace grinned. It wasn't often he got to do something that would surprise everybody. "I need you to help me cut my hair." Lael tipped his head. "Did you just ask me to help you cut your hair?" "I did." Without waiting for Lael's response, Ace walked into the bathroom. "How much are we taking off?" Ace sat on the side of the bathtub. "All of it. I want you to go at it with the sheers and then I'll shave it the rest of the way." Lael rolled his eyes in another distinctly Draco move. "Don't you ever do anything halfway? You had the longest hair in the world, now you have to have none at all?" Was that true? Did he always do everything to the extreme? He supposed that

sounded right. He didn't do half-measured anything, and that included Alice. He'd loved her. Even though it was so fast, too fast some might say, to feel that way. He wasn't sure he'd ever stop loving her. And she'd told him she loved him too. She hadn't meant it. How could she have? How could she have gone from what she said the night before to loving him? It had been the stress of the situation. She'd worried one of them was going to die and she'd wanted to make what little they'd had between them "okay" beforehand. After that, he'd thrown himself in front of the laser for her. Right before he died, he felt such relief knowing Alice would be okay. Even as he worried about who would stop Zee— "Woo-hoo, where you'd go?" Ace focused on Lael. "I was thinking about Alice." "The girl really does love you, you know." "This conversation is not happening. I cannot, will not, discuss my love life—or lack thereof—with my sixteen-year-old brother." Lael laughed. "I get it. Okay. I'm good enough to shave your head but not to talk about Alice." "You got it, kid." ***** Ace stared at himself in the mirror. He'd done it. He'd buzzed off his hair. He hardly recognized himself. Rubbing the back of his neck startled him. He could actually do that. His cheekbones looked higher, his eyes more probing. Sighing, he hoped he'd made the right choice. It was time for changes. He had to get his life in order, the adrenaline under control, and he had to decide what he was going to do about work. He didn't want to be Batman. He wanted to be whoever he was supposed to be. Somehow, he didn't think that included endless references to fictional comic book

characters. Alice. He closed his eyes. Now that was someone it did no good aching for. She wasn't going to happen. Not ever. He walked out of his room and moved through the hall, feeling very empowered to get rid of the bullshit that had been clogging up his life. He rounded the corner, ascended the stairs, and knocked on Draco's home office door. Without waiting for Draco's response, he entered, catching his brother on the phone. "Yes, Senator, I understand . . . ." Draco stared at him as he continued with his phone conversation, his eyes widening in shock. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to call you back. Something has happened." Draco hung up the phone and stood. "Are you having some kind of breakdown?" "It was time, past time really." "I'll agree with the needing a haircut part. I just didn't expect you to make yourself all but bald." Ace shrugged. "As Lael pointed out, I never do anything in half measures." "Smart kid, our brother." "I was thinking that I could go back to inventing. I could make things, like I used to before you opened Powers, but I could do it for Powers. I could invent things that would be useful for the company. Some of the other Superheroes might have things they could do too." Draco sat back down. "I think that sounds like a good idea." Ace blinked. Had it been that easy? "You do?" "Yes. I know you're not into the adventure like I am. You like it, but you like other stuff too. Make it happen." Ace smiled, feeling more positive than he had about work in a long while. One more thing remained for him to fix and it wouldn't be as easy. Steeling his back for the assault of words he expected, he went downstairs to the basement to use his personal work phone.

Picking it up, he waited until Michelle answered on the other end. "I heard you were very ill." She didn't sound sorry. "Hi, Michelle." When she didn't respond in turn he continued. "I owe you an apology." "You do?" She sounded genuinely surprised, which he took as a good sign. "I do. When I pursued you for an intimate relationship, I didn't stop to think that you might have real feelings for me." "Well, aren't you presumptuous?" "In this case, I'm just being honest, and I think we're past the point of speaking half truths to one another." She sighed. "Okay." "I get that I hurt you really, really bad." "You did." He needed to continue, to make this right, if he could. "I never stop to think of other people's feelings, not when it comes to sex, and I was raised better than that." "So what are you saying? You used me?" He played with the phone cord. "In a word: yes. That night I used you because I knew that you wanted me and I wanted to have sex with you." "What happens now? I know I haven't been behaving exactly pleasantly at work." "No, you haven't, but as of right now, we wipe the slate clean. You're a good Handler, you're good at your job, and I'm taking on some new responsibilities. I could use help, if you want to be happy at work again." There was a long pause. Really, he knew it could go other either way. "I want to keep working at Powers and to have a positive working relationship again." "That's good, Michelle. I'll talk to you soon." He hung up the phone. Leaning his head against the wall, he resisted calling Alice. It was too hard. That relationship wouldn't be mended with one conversation and

admitting he was a prick who didn't deserve her . . . . No, his instinct on this matter had to be correct. They shouldn't be together. ***** Ace sat on the floor, staring across at the "teacher" Draco had mentioned to Ace. Kevin swore he could teach Ace how to relax and control how his body functioned. "As Superheroes, we are well-functioning machines." Kevin spoke with a thick southern accent to match his cowboy hat and his cowboy boots over his denim pants and colored shirt. The only thing slightly off kilter about Kev's whole look was the carrot-red hair. It hung long and shaggy, sticking out from under the hat. On someone else, it would be goofy. On Kevin, somehow, it worked. His speech about machines got Ace's attention. "You're saying I need to tune up my parts?" "I'm saying you need to be more aware of how they work. There should be signals you're making too much adrenaline even before you do it. Maybe your hands sweat or your eyeballs twitch. I'm not sure. In my case, my nose itches." "What happens once I identify my particular response?" "Then we stop the response, thereby cutting off the adrenaline. This is called biofeedback." Normally, Ace would scoff at the idea. He wasn't into Yoga. He didn't meditate. But if Kevin, the Superhero who didn't act like a Superhero but pretended he was a regular guy, had somehow managed to use this technique to stop growing to seven feet tall and bulking out every time he got angry, then who was Ace to argue? He was willing to try anything if it meant he could control his problem. Anything to not be so out of control again. And besides, he needed something to focus on besides how much he'd missed Alice over the last two weeks. Even though that was all he seemed able to think about.

He hoped this wasn't a permanent problem. He closed his eyes to focus. Alice's smiling face filled his mind. Chapter Twelve Alice kept her back straight as she walked, she hoped confidently, into Powers, Inc. The psychologist she had visited for the last month had helped her to see things more clearly. She had self-sabotaged any chance she had to find happiness with Ace because she was so certain he'd hurt her. If she ended things before they ever got too far, then she never had to be vulnerable enough to let anyone get the chance to cause her pain. The background of all of this, her father's death, her mother's coldness, and her uncle's tremendous betrayal, would take months, maybe years, to clear up. Yet, somehow knowing what she'd done and understanding why she'd done it, had freed her. She felt confident if she had to beg or to plead, she would get Ace back. Of course, a tiny part of her wanted him to simply see her and fall to his knees, declaring his undying love. She'd settle, however, for dinner and seeing the light in his eyes when he looked at her. She'd kill to hold him in her arms just one more time. Moving to the receptionist, who looked busy doing her nails, Alice waited for a moment for the woman to acknowledge her. "Can I help you?" The woman paused—then screamed. "Oh my god, you're Alice Styles." Alice smiled her camera grin and leaned against the woman's counter. "I need to see Ace Hudson." "Do you have an appointment?" "No." She tapped her fingers lightly on the counter, listening to the click, click radiate through the hall. "I'm hoping he'll see me anyway. I'm a former client." "One second." The receptionist clicked on her keyboard, while Alice waited, pretending to be

interested in the ornate light fixture attached to the ceiling of the entranceway. She couldn't be sure, but she thought it looked like a pseudo-contemporary miniature version of a space ship. Now why on earth would they have that? "Ms. Styles . . . ." She turned her attention back to the woman behind the counter. "Yes?" "I'm afraid that Mr. Hudson's Handler is reporting that he is not in the building at the moment." "He's not?" She heard the catch in her voice and hated it. There was no reason to get upset. If it didn't happen right this second, she would see him another time. She couldn't let herself get worked up. "No. She says he's not expected in at all today. But you can see Draco Powers, if you wish." She did not wish. Maybe her feelings were unreasonable, but she couldn't get over her anger toward him for escorting her from the room during Ace's time of need. She suspected Ace's domineering brother would do anything possible to keep her away from him. What business was it of Draco's? She and Ace loved each other. A sickening thought came to her mind. Maybe Ace was here, but had said he didn't want to see her. He did need her, even if he didn't currently want to acknowledge it. "Thank you anyway." Smiling, she walked from the building and put back on her sunglasses. It was a bright day. Staring up at the sky, she looked to see if she could see Ace's blond hair floating above her somewhere in the city. She sighed. No such luck. In fact, she hadn't spotted him—not once—since she'd been forcibly removed from his sight. Biting her lip, she wondered if she'd made a mistake not seeing Draco. She could have at least asked him if Ace was okay. Maybe he couldn't fly anymore. Maybe he was holed up at home, still sick. Oh god, she needed to go to him, to see that he was okay . . . .

No, she shook her head. She would remain calm. Even amongst the secrecy associated with the Superheroes, she would have heard if he were dead. Lael would have called. She was sure of that. He would have thought to tell her. Also, an event that huge would have been on the news. She hoped. Sighing, she moved down the street, heading toward her car. ***** Alice stood backstage out of sight of her live studio audience, an idea formatting in her head. She'd walk out in a moment and they'd start the show, live, as soon as she did. Checking the clock, she made note of what time it was. Exactly two minutes until show time, and she was never late. This was her first live episode since the machines had turned on her a month ago. The network had been doing a major amount of promotion in anticipation of her return. After she did this shooting, she was scheduled to do an interview about her experience. She didn't want to talk to anyone but Ace. "Are you ready, Ms. Styles?" The production assistant spoke from behind her. She was as ready as she would ever be. Today, she would be making her favorite foods. The new show was called Cooking for Comfort and she'd show the audience what she cooked when she was worried and upset. After much consideration, she'd decided on chicken noodle soup and her mother's pot roast. The irony of this, of course, was that she hadn't eaten very much at all, not since Ace had pushed her out of his life. No food, nor any amount of counseling, could make the ache of knowing she let the one man go who had made her feel whole because she'd been too frightened to hold onto him with both hands. Nodding, she stepped out onto her set. Waving, like she always did, she

wondered if the commentators would note she was ten pounds skinnier on the entertainment news shows that night. For the first time in her life, she really didn't care. Ace had liked her the way she was. If she did this—what she considered doing—and he didn't come back to her, then it was over, truly over, and she would have humiliated herself on national television, maybe internationally, if she were truly unlucky. Ace never did anything in half-measures and to get him back she would have to be extreme. There was no other choice. "Hello, everyone. How are you feeling today?" She smiled at the audience as she stepped behind the counter in her studiokitchen, which had been modeled after her own home kitchen. She smiled as she remembered how much nicer the kitchen in Ace's house was. The one that his sister-inlaw used to prepare food for her family, the family she—Alice—had scoffed at. Wow, there was no way in hell Ace would take her back. Seeing the red light that indicated she was live, she smiled her million-dollar grin. It felt good to be doing this, even if she might be sabotaging her career. She'd never felt more comfortable on screen. "Hello, everyone. I'm so glad to be here with all of you today." The audience clapped and hooted. She smiled at them. "Today, before I get down to showing all of you how I make my comfort foods, the very things I eat when my life gets terribly hard, I have some things I need to say." She swallowed. This was it. She would publicly lay all her cards on the table. At least, she'd know he knew the truth. "Recently, I made a terrible mistake. I'm sure you've all made your share of them too. We are human, after all, right?" The audience went silent and her producer motioned with her hands to tell Alice to get to the cooking. She would. Eventually. "I need to say something to Ace Hudson. You all know who he is, right? He's a

Superhero who works at Powers, Inc., and he saved my life." The audience clapped and cheered loudly. Well, she smiled, so far so good. At least they weren't rooting for her to have died. "I'm enormously grateful to him for what he did, but even more than that—I'm in love with him." Now the audience hooted. She raised her hand to silence them. She wasn't done, even as her hands shook and her throat went dry with nerves. "I have a funny way of showing the people I love that I love them. I push them away. I treat them terribly. I'm working on changing that." She looked down at her counter and then back up at the camera. "Ace, I'm seeing a therapist. I want to be better so maybe I can deserve to see you again. And, if you're watching this or if one of the people who watched this is telling you about it, I hope you'll give me another chance. You have to know by now that I've been trying to see you. I come to the office every day. Anyway." She tried very hard to not let the tear escaping her right eye fall but she was unsuccessful. Great, she was crying on television now. "I don't deserve it, but give me another chance. Please." Swallowing her tears, she smiled her famous grin again. "And now that I'm done exposing myself to all of you emotionally, which is a tribute to how serious I am, because god knows I never let anyone past my self-made walls, I'm going to show you how I make chicken soup and pot roast." "And we're out." Her producer called as they went to commercial. "Are you crazy?" She nodded. "Maybe." The audience exploded with noise. Usually, this much talking would be deafening to her in the studio. Today, it felt silent. Terribly, terribly silent. Maybe he would call. Maybe he would stop by. Maybe. *****

The rest of the show had gone by in a blur. She'd done a good job with the pot roast. Her mother never watched the show, but she would be proud if she had. Cell phone in her hand, still clinging to hope, she climbed out of the car and walked to her house. The interviews the network had set up had drained her. She wanted nothing more than to fall into bed and pretend that it hadn't been five hours since the show and Ace had yet to contact her. Well his silence spoke volumes. He couldn't be clearer. Not interested. She supposed she would survive. Unlocking the door, she stepped into the house, forcing her calm demeanor to remain until she shut the door behind her. She would lose it in the bathtub. She'd taken two steps into the hallway when she stopped. A man stood there, before her. Oh god. There was a stranger in her house and she was unarmed. This was a nightmare. She backed up, holding her hands in front of herself as if she could protect herself that way. She knew she should have hired security, but after everything that had happened, she couldn't fathom further invasion of her privacy. "Take anything you want, but please don't hurt me." He was tall, and without her contacts, she couldn't see his face clearly. She could see he had broad shoulders and was bald. "Alice." The man spoke her name and she blinked. "It's me." She gasped, covering her mouth. She would know that voice anywhere. It haunted her for a month in her dreams, calling her name but never coming. "Ace?" "Yes." He was beside her in two seconds, pulling her into his arms. "I've been waiting for you all day. I got here at eight this morning thinking I could catch you before you left for work." The tears started in earnest as she sobbed against his chest. She couldn't even make out the words he spoke. She didn't care. He was here. That one thing was all that

mattered. "Hey now, no tears." He kissed the top of her head. "You don't cry." "I do. I cry. A lot." The tears and sobs coming out of her mouth broke up her words. She pulled back to stare at him. "Oh my god, what did you to do yourself?" She raised her shaking hand to touch his bald head covered only with the faintest touch of blond stubble. "I shaved it." "I see that." She sniffed. "You're gorgeous, as always. But why would you cut off your beautiful hair?" He hesitated. "Because you always hated it." "No, I didn't. At first I wasn't into the whole look, but then it became you and I loved it." "You did?" She nodded. "I did." "Well, it was also time for a change. Do you hate it?" "No." She laughed. "Damn, I'm dizzy." The room twirled. His showing up, startling her, and—and bald—was too much, all of it. Ace scooped her up into his arms and carried her to her couch. "Are you okay?" Concern marred his expression, but his eyes glowed with happiness as they looked at her. "It's been a long day. I'm so happy to see you. I thought when you didn't respond to my on-air plea that you were basically telling me to "fuck off." He shook his head as he sat on the couch, lifting her head onto his lap. He stroked her hair. "I don't know what you're talking about. I got here early and I've been here all day. I made some lunch, fell asleep right here." She sat up, almost colliding heads with him. "You didn't see what I did on television today?" "No." He touched her cheek. "I've been in Europe meditating with this Texan named Kevin."

"Meditating?" "Yes." He laughed. "I know. It's crazy but I've gotten the adrenaline down so low I hardly notice it." "I suggested that." He kissed her nose. "You did. Draco did too. Anyway, I had a lot of time to think, and all I could think about was you. I came back last night to lots of messages that you kept stopping by the office." He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers. "They made me hopeful you'd missed me as much as I'd missed you and that maybe we could both try again." "Ace, are you telling me you didn't see what I did today?" "No." He opened his eyes as he pulled back to look at her. "Lael has been calling for the last five hours but I haven't answered." Oh hell. The tears started again. He'd come back for her without seeing her desperate plea. That was too wonderful for words. He brushed away her tears with his fingers. "What are these tears?" "I'll have to show you." She got up from the couch. "I don't know where I put the remote. Shit." She was always misplacing the damn thing. Ace pointed at the television and the set came to life. She smiled. That particular superpower was very useful. Sure enough, as she suspected, considering what she'd pulled her first day back, her face appeared on the screen. She stood by the television, not looking at Ace as he watched her public declaration. When it ended, before the news people could start speaking, he stood and pointed at the television to turn it off. "You did that to try to get me back?" She nodded. What if she'd made a terrible mistake? "Too much?" She blinked and found herself in his arms again. "No. It was perfect." He kissed her again. His lips were strong and she was engulfed in Ace's arms, as she'd been so

desperate to be. "We have to be careful with you. People are going to try to hurt you now." He kissed her hard and she hung on for dear life. Sudden realization hit her; Ace shook in her arms. She pulled back. "Are you okay? Are you having an adrenaline problem?" "No." He laughed as he kissed her forehead. "Alice, I'm overwhelmed. You just exposed yourself on television for me. You told everyone you're seeing a therapist. How am I going to keep you safe?" Safe? "Why would I be in danger?" "From people who want to get to me." "That's always going to be a problem if we're together. How did you think you'd handle it before?" His strong arms moved her snug against his chest, so close she could hear his heartbeat. She could tell he was overwhelmed. If he needed this level of closeness, so tight she was practically inside of him, then fine, that's what he'd get. "I was hoping we could find a way to hide our relationship so no one would know you were with me." "No." She tried to shake her head, which was impossible pressed up against him. "We're not living our life in the dark. I won't ever tell anyone about Draco or Lael and their relationship to us, but we have to be out in the open." He loosened his hold on her and she pulled back to regard him. "Listen, presidents and prime ministers have relationships. We must be able to have them. We'll be careful. I'll—" She cut off what she was going to say. It was too much. She wasn't going to be that woman scaring him off. "You'll what?" "Oh god, you caught that. I was going to say something that was bound to scare you off." "I don't scare easy."

"I was going to say that I'll move in with you but that's too much for now. We'll just work it out." Ace dropped down onto one knee. "Alice Styles, when I came back for you, I promised myself that I would not leave this house until you agreed to marry me." She swallowed. She hadn't imagined this. In her wildest dreams, she never would have guessed he'd say, "Marry me." Something was seriously wrong. She didn't feel the panic. He was talking family. Shouldn't she be freaked out? Grinning, she knelt to face him. "Yes, Ace, I will marry you." "You will?" She narrowed her gaze. "You didn't ask expecting me to say no, did you? Oh God! Are you upset I said yes?" He kissed her nose. "I'm shocked you made it so easy. I had a list—a very long list—of how I was going to convince you." "Well, go ahead. Sell yourself." "No." He stood, scooping her up in his arms. "You said yes, that gets me off the hook." "It does not." She wanted to hear his frickin; list. "Sorry." He dropped her on the couch. "We do well on couches." "We've only ever done it on the couch. I bet we do it well on beds, in the shower—" "Honey, I'll bang you anywhere." "Funny, Ace." She sighed as his mouth met hers again, and his quick fingers undid her buttons. He might have cut off his hair but he was still her Ace. Thank God. "So, can I move in with you? How will I get around? I can't fly myself back and forth. People might find out where you live if they follow me." "We'll live here."

"What about Lael? He needs you." He opened her shirt and squeezed her breast, sending heat between her thighs. "He can come too." "Won't Draco object?" "He might; he's my problem." Ace kissed her again. "Listen, no more talking about my family. I have other things in mind, right now. We're making up and I need to make up with you. A lot." She closed her mouth. They would talk. Later. And for the rest of their lives. The thought was delicious. He was her Ace, forever. ~The End~ About the Author As a teenager, Rebecca would hide in her room to read her favorite romance novels when she was supposed to be doing her homework. She hopes, these days, that her parents think it was worth it. She is the mother of three adorable boys and she is fortunate to be married to her best friend. They live in northern New Jersey and try not to freeze too badly during the winter months. She is in love with science fiction, fantasy, and the paranormal, and tries to use all of these elements in her writing. She's been told she's a little bloodthirsty, so she hopes that when you read her work you'll enjoy the action-packed ride that always ends in romance. She loves to write series because she loves to see characters develop over time and it always makes her happy to see her favorite characters make guest appearances in other books. In her world, anything is possible, anything can happen, and you should expect that it will. Learn more about Rebecca at www.rebeccaroyce.com *****

If you enjoyed Banging the Superhero, you might also like the following book from Rebecca Royce and Noble Romance Publishing: Screwing the Superhero