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about more than speed, Sport—or maybe you prefer Lillian .”
    She didn’t miss a beat. As soon as she’d seen his bike in front of her garage, she’d known he had her name. “I don’t, actually. I prefer Lilli. Three Ls, two Is. Got an early start this morning, I see.”
    He stood and took a long stride, so that he was standing right in front of her, looming over her. She was tall, but by her estimate, he had a good nine inches on her, at least. “Actually, haven’t been to bed yet. It’s still last night for me. My guy tells me you’re Lillian Carson, from Austin, Texas.” Brazenly, he slid his hand into the front of her running shorts, hooking his fingers over the waistband. He made a growling noise in the back of his throat. “Girl, these are the tiniest shorts I’ve ever seen. They distract a man from his work.”
    She liked his hand where it was. Her attraction to this man didn’t surprise her; if she’d been asked to describe what she found sexiest, she’d pretty much describe him head to toe. And she was by no stretch of the imagination shy or prudish. Under normal circumstances, she’d have few qualms about putting him on the ground and mounting him right here. But he could be a danger to her. He had power—what she’d seen last night told her that he was the power in this scant little town and probably for some distance around it. It could be problematic if their needs crossed.
    The question she asked herself, as her body responded enthusiastically to his touch, was whether she was better off keeping him close or keeping her distance.
    She smiled up at him, seeing the sass of it reflected in the lenses of his sunglasses. “Work? That what you’re here for?”
    He turned his hand so that his palm was flat on her belly and then pushed it around, still partially under her shorts, until he hooked it over her left hip. She saw him notice the ink there and felt his thumb trace it. She managed to keep her heart steady and her breath even, but it was becoming a struggle. His palm was hot and rough on her bare skin.
    “Well, work to start. See, my guy found something pretty interesting. I like to be forthright. I’m not much for poker. Chess is my game. Think it serves everybody best if things are laid out neat. So I thought I’d run it by you. He tells me he came up quick against a wall, looking into you. Not a lot of history. I find that  . . . intriguing. You pop out of a pod a few months ago, all shiny and new?”
    Okay. So he had a decent hacker in the club. Good to know. Not necessarily a crisis, though definitely a problem and a potential risk. At best, again, Isaac was changing the way she intended to do things. And her decision was made.
    Keep him close. She couldn’t say she was sorry about that.
    Lilli shared Isaac’s affection for forthrightness. As much of the truth as possible was always the best approach. Getting caught out in a lie always made everything more dangerous. Only as much subterfuge as was necessary.
    “No, no pod. Don’t suppose you’ll just let that wall stand?”
    He tossed his head back and laughed, a deep, mirthful sound that made Lilli’s running shorts all the wetter. When he looked down at her again, his lopsided smile was broad and bright. “Sorry, no. You could make it easier on Bart and let me take a peek over it, tell me why it’s there.”
    “Where would be the fun in that?” Her keys hooked on a finger, she reached up and undid a couple of buttons on his shirt. Around his neck, he wore a leather cord with a small silver medallion; it was nested in a moderate coverage of dark curls on his chest. She did love a hairy chest. She circled her fingers in it and felt his hand grip her hip hard.
    He growled again, shaking his head. “I don’t like secrets, Sport.” His free hand gripped the back of her neck, and he came down close, not yet kissing her, though she could feel his beard tickling her chin.
    She reached around his neck and brought his braid