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She thumbed her iPod off and pulled out the earbuds. Muffled music from the gymnasium vibrated
through the wall as Livia nailed high C.
Jamming? He crossed one Nike-shod foot over the other.
Not exactly Rock Me Amadeus, but yeah, I have Mozart plugged in today.
You re a classical buff? He sounded surprised.
An orchestra conductor in Atlanta.
His brows shot high. No shit?
His total shock was a little insulting. Did he really consider her a ditz? Then she recalled his irritation when
she d assumed Jimmy Mars, god of war Gage wouldn t be the type to study up on Roman mythology.
Apparently they d both made some erroneous assumptions about each other.
No shit. Classical music is my life, whether it be through conducting or playing the piano or even
singing.
So that s why you were doing the . . . He waved his hands in a not-half-bad imitation of her conducting
a three-four beat.
She stared down at her motionless fingers with their nails trimmed short for playing the piano. It s
instinctive when I listen. Enough of the chitchat. Her years of intense health concerns had left her with a
deep-seated need not to waste precious time on picayune crap like pissing contests. What brings you
here?
My job.
Duh. I meant here , to see me .
Self-defense class for our local mayhem-prone Mozart groupie.
She d heard his invitation as she d walked away after the concert fight, but she hadn t thought he meant
it. You were serious about that?
Serious as the next riot you ll probably land in the middle of.
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes and reached for her earbuds. Thanks all the same, but I think I ll
just invest in a can of mace.
In a flash so fast she barely registered the blur of his sweat suit in motion, Jimmy looped his arms around
her torso and neck, hauling her back flat against his front. What the hell?
Her iPod dropped from her restrained hand. She wriggled to get free. Unsuccessfully. His arms locked
her tighter against the hard-muscled length of him. The roots of her hair began to tingle.
She stilled, half-afraid to move and stir those tingles into a body-wide wave.
His head lowered, his mouth beside her ear. How effective do you think that mace is going to be right
now?
Warm breath steamed over the sensitive skin along her earlobe, farther to her cheek, until she shivered.
Her lashes fluttered closed in utter frustration, humiliation even. How disturbing to be so acutely attracted
to someone she wasn t even sure she liked.
Let go, please, she whispered, hating the slight bobble in her voice.
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I was simply trying to prove my point. His arms slid away. He wasn t cheesy about it, no copping a
feel, but the simple brush of movement still jangled her already off-kilter nerves.
People who insist on being right all the time are really annoying.
That will give you the perfect motivation to be a good student so you can kick my ass. Unless there s
some reason you re afraid of the challenge?
Did this guy take mind game classes in between saving the world? Regardless, his blasted psychology
was effective. She was a fighter. Where do we start?
He swept a hand ahead of him, his ever-stoic face betraying no emotion. This way, maestro.
Maestra, for females. She deserved to indulge in just a little condescension, damn it.
Right, definitely maestra then. Get ready to rock out, Sun Tzu style. He charged down the hall with
confident strides she had to double-time to match.
* ADANA, TURKEY
Nunez baked in the afternoon sun even without a suit jacket and tie. Nothing new. A large portion of his
job included sitting around and waiting as inconspicuously as possible.
At least the food rocked at the tiny café across from the nightclub. Sitting at an outdoor table, he tore off
another bite of his Lamb Adana a cross between a gyro and his mother s meatloaf while skimming
through a local newspaper. All of which provided the perfect vantage point to catch sight of Ms. Surac
when she reported for work.
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