Two of a Kind (Fool's Gold #11)(26)

“You’re right,” she told him. “This is a first date. We should get to know each other.” She turned to face the house. “How long have you lived here?”

“Just over a year. Some guy from L.A. had bought the land and started construction only to realize he didn’t like being this far from the big city. I bought it from him and had it finished. Made a few modifications.”

She would guess he’d put in more windows, maybe the skylights.

“What happens when you get stuck up here because of weather?”

“I’m prepared. There’s a generator, and I keep plenty of food on hand.”

“Occupational hazard,” she said.

He shrugged and picked up his wine. “Being prepared isn’t a bad thing. What about you? Where did you grow up?”

She drew in a breath. Right—he wouldn’t know about her past. That night together four years ago hadn’t had much in the way of conversation.

“Outside Chicago.” She paused, cautious about the details of her past. People reacted in unexpected ways when she told them how she’d grown up. “I wasn’t the easiest of children,” she began. “I was reading by the time I was two, doing complex math equations at three. When I was four, I used items I found under the kitchen sink to make a bomb.”

Gideon raised one eyebrow. “On purpose?”

“I knew there would be an explosion, and I thought it would be funny. I wasn’t trying to destroy anything. My parents didn’t see it that way.”

“Got in trouble, huh?”

“They felt I needed a more structured environment. Somewhere I could be mentally challenged. I was more than they could handle.”

She knew she was making excuses, saying what she’d always said. While it was true, it also avoided any emotional reaction to the stark reality. Her parents had been afraid of her. They hadn’t wanted her around.

She sipped her wine. “They were approached by several professors at the university. I was to study with them, learn as much as I wanted, and in return they would try to understand what made me different.”

Her parents had signed her over to be a lab experiment, she thought, telling herself it was fine. She was fine.

“I had access to every class on campus, to the finest professors. I studied with Nobel prize winners and scientists. It was an amazing opportunity.”

He looked at her. “You were by yourself.”

“There was always adult supervision. The staff made sure of that.”

“But no family. No friends.”

There wasn’t any pity in his voice, but she braced herself for it. “I wasn’t in a position to have friends,” she admitted. “I was too young for the other students to relate to and the adults saw me as someone to learn from, not an equal. Some of them were afraid of my intelligence. I became an emancipated minor when I was fourteen. I published papers and wrote a few books to pay the bills. When I was sixteen, I decided I wanted something else.”

“I knew you’d gone to college when you were young, but I didn’t know...” He trailed off with a sympathetic look on his face.

“You don’t have to feel sorry for me,” she told him. “I was happy. Yes, I lived a more solitary existence than most, but I’m not sure I would have done any better with a normal upbringing. I’ve had the most extraordinary education.”

“There’s more to life than what you learn in school.”

“I agree. Some of the students made an effort. One of them had been a soldier. He was wounded, lost his legs. Getting around was difficult for him, but he never complained. He was nice and funny and treated me like a kid sister.” Her mouth twisted. “He died of complications from his injuries. I was sixteen. The following week I faked my ID and joined the army. I never told them about my various degrees. To them, I was just someone who had enlisted.”

“How long did that last?”

She grinned. “Long enough. I was able to fit in. There are rules and I do well with rules. My interest in logistics led to me being assigned to a Special Forces team, and you know the rest.”

She glanced toward the trees. “I’m sure there are owls in the forest. I wonder if we’ll see any at dusk.”

“Felicia.”

She turned to Gideon. His gaze was intense, but she had no idea what he was thinking.

“I’m fine,” she told him. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Then I won’t.”

But she wasn’t sure he was telling the truth. More confusing, the idea of him being concerned actually made her happy. Shouldn’t she want a man to believe she was completely self-sufficient? She sighed. Mating rituals were complicated in every species, but with humans, the rules were always changing.

* * *

GIDEON SLID THE steaks onto plates, and Felicia carried them over to the table. They’d prepared a salad together, and then she’d made a dressing while he’d put the meat on the grill. They sat across from each other as the setting sun cast shadows on the deck.

She cut into her steak. “Perfect,” she said. “I understand the conditions required to cook food, but I can’t always make the transition from theory to practice. Baking continues to elude me. Consuelo says my flaws keep me likable, but I’m less sure that’s true. Even if nobody likes a know-it-all.”