Page 6 of Silver Fire

“Fine. I should be at her place by 4:00 p.m., I don’t think I’ll take more than an hour.”

Maia ended the call before Jack could reply.

“She’s still pissed at you.”

“Thanks for stating the obvious,” Jack responded wryly.

“I’m impressed by your patience though.”

“I’m feeling guilty for manipulating the situation. She has every right to be pissed at me, so I’m taking whatever she can dish out.”

“Sounds like a marriage.”

“No shit.”

2

Sophie pulledup her Honda Pilot beside a silver Mercedes convertible parked in front of her sprawling Mediterranean style home in the exclusive Rosewood Heights historic neighborhood. The house, built in the roaring ’20s, belonged to her grandmother on her mother’s side and was surrounded by four acres of woodland. Sophie was the only daughter of American socialite Theresa Cassidy who had divorced her father when she was eight. She barely acknowledged her mother in thirteen years. She stayed with her grandmother when she was home from MIT, which was rare. The last time she had seen her mother was at her grandmother’s funeral where they hardly exchanged two sentences. Sophie’s inheritance from both sides of her family would have kept her comfortable for life, but what she was making out of Silver Fire Research was her pride and joy. And apparently some people were not happy about it.

A red-haired woman stepped out of the Mercedes and Sophie had to keep her jaw from dropping. She had heard enough gushing from Beth to know that McCord’s wife was beautiful, but meeting Maia Pierce McCord in person could effectively squeeze the air out of your lungs because she—was—breathtaking. No wonder Beth had her panties in a twist whenever she talked about Maia.

“Ms. Pierce or is it Mrs. McCord?” Sophie asked and laughed when Maia winced at the word ‘Mrs.’ “Still not used to it, I take it?”

Maia shook her head and grinned.

“How long have you been married?”

“Six weeks.”

“Ah, still on honeymoon?”

“Oh, believe me that phase is over.”

“Uh-oh, trouble in paradise?”

Maia grimaced and said, “I’d rather talk about your troubles than mine.”

Sophie chuckled. She liked Maia Pierce. Despite looking as gorgeous as she did, she appeared to be well-grounded and a very warm person. She had a rich and swoon-worthy husband, why would she choose a dangerous profession? She led the female Guardian through her front door, turning off her alarm and proceeding to the kitchen.

“Care for some wine?”

“I really shouldn’t, but I could use a glass.”

Sophie walked around the center island and checked the wine rack above the butler’s pantry. “What kind of wine do you drink?”

“Cabernet is fine.”

“Shame on you, I’m half-French you know,” Sophie clucked.

Maia smiled broadly but did not reply.

“We’ll have to settle on a Bordeaux then. I don’t have one up here, but I’ll go get it from the cellar.”

“Oh, please don’t do it on my account. I’ll drink whatever you have.”

“Nonsense, it’s right here,” Sophie said as she walked into a huge pantry and hefted a clay-tile covered trapdoor, revealing a short flight of steps. Maia followed her down the stairs without being invited, which disconcerted Sophie a little.

“Is this just being kept as underground storage?” Maia asked curiously.

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