Lisa B Kamps [Kamps - Covered By A Kiss

Nothing was the way she remembered it. Not even close.

Tabitha "TR" Meyers stood just inside the main entranceway, her gaze sweeping around the interior. The heavy door closed behind her, startling her, and she took another step inside.

The door was new. And so was the entranceway. Or maybe she should call it what it was: a small lobby. Complete with dark grey carpet, stiff chairs upholstered in a lighter grey, and even a large receptionist desk along the back wall. A tiny little Christmas tree, lonely and pathetic, was placed at the corner of the desk.

The tree appeared even smaller next to the huge guy leaning against the deskand he didn't look like any receptionist she had ever seen before. Tall, with broad shoulders nearly ripping the seams from the body-hugging black t-shirt he wore. Arms the size of her thighs and covered in dark ink folded across a wide chest. He had dark hair, clipped short on the sides, a little longer on top. Equally dark eyes watched her, their depths void of all emotion. Not cold, not exactly...but a chill still teased her spine.

Maybe it wasn't the eyes that caused the chill. Maybe it was the sight of the large weapon casually tucked into a worn leather shoulder holster that made her take an involuntary step back.

No, it wasn't that, eitheralthough the man and the weapon were both intimidating, by themselves and coupled together as they were. The chill had nothing to do with the man. Or the weapon. Or even the with the way everything around her had changed since the last time she'd been here.

The icy shivers skating along her spine were a direct result of the reason why she was here. Not for the first time, she questioned the wisdom of coming here. Questioned her sanity. Wondered if she had any idea at all about what she was getting herself into simply by walking through that front door.

None of that mattered. Not now, not when her mind was made up. She was on a mission. Maybe it was a foolish one, but she couldn't back away now.

The man stared at her for another long minute, his dark gaze penetrating. Sizing her up. Determining if she presented any danger. TR almost laughed at that. Dangerous? Her? Only if she had a pen in her hand

And only if she could verify that cryptic email she had received two weeks ago.

The guy finally straightened to his full height and dropped his arms to his sides. His gaze still didn't waver, even if one eyebrow lifted just the smallest bit when he addressed her.

"Is there something you need?"

TR blinked in surprise. She had expected a gravelly voice, rough and maybe even a bit harsh. She certainly hadn't expected the deceptively smooth warmth that caressed her. She had no idea who the man washe hadn't been here the last time she'd been here, almost a year ago. None of this had been here. The place had been little more than an old warehouse, large and empty and filled with nothing more than possibilities and a few locked storage lockers.

Panic nipped at her. Had anything else changed? Maybe the man she'd come to see wasn't even here. Maybe he'd moved on. Maybe something had happened to him

TR swallowed back that last thought, swallowed back the panic and doubt. She would have heard, would have known somehow

The guy was still staring at her, those dark eyes piercing through her unaccustomed spurt of panic. TR cleared her throat and pasted a large smile on her face, hoping it hid the whirlwind of emotion battering her insides.

"Is Gordon here?"

The man's chiseled face transformed from a mask of indifference to a confused frown. He shook his head, the slight motion filling TR with disappointment. "There's nobody here by that name."

TR's smile faltered. No. That wasn't right. He had to be here. TR forced the smile back into place and asked again. "Gordon MacGregor? Mac? He doesn't work here?"

"Oh. Mac." The frown lifted from the man's face as some of the wariness left his stiff body. "Yeah, he's here. You need him?"

Need . Such a strong word. Did she need Mac? She had once prided herself on never needing anyonebut not now. Not for this. Yes, she needed Mac.

But that wasn't what the man meant, not in that way.

TR gave herself a mental shake and forced another smile. "Yes. Please."

A brief flash of surprise crossed the man's face, then quickly disappeared with a low grunt. He moved behind the desk and grabbed the phone, started punching at numbers with the blunt tip of one long finger. He held the receiver to his ear, frowning as he kept stabbing buttons.

TR bit back a real smile when the man cursed and slammed the receiver down. He shot a dark glance in her direction then moved away from the desk toward a door several feet away.