“Yes.”

And The Terminator thing fell into place. Lee was staring just slightly beyond him, like he was accessing an internal filing system. “Can I, uh, get you anything?”

Focus snapped onto his face and a long finger beckoned Tony forward. “Come in and close the door.”

“The door?”

He’d never seen Lee smile like that before. It was almost . . . mocking. “Yes. The door. Come into the room and close it behind you.”

Unable to think of a reason why he shouldn’t, and not sure he wanted to, Tony did as he was told.

“Turn off your radio.”

“But . . .”

“Do it. I don’t want to be interrupted.”

While you’re doing what? Tony wondered as his left hand dropped to the holster on his belt. But Peter had sent him. He was supposed to be here.

“I want you to tell me things.” The actor’s voice stroked over him like wet velvet. “In return, I will give you what you desire.” The requisite vampire-show leather coat slipped off broad shoulders and hit the floor. The burgundy shirt followed a heartbeat later.

Half a dozen heartbeats actually, given how quickly Tony’s heart had started beating. The total weirdness of the situation helped him keep a partial lid on his physical reaction although he was definitely reacting. A dead man would react to a half naked Lee Nicholas and—given a specific dead man—Tony knew that for a fact.

As Lee reached for him, he astounded himself by stepping back.

This was rapidly becoming everything he’d ever dreamed of and a bad soap opera scenario pretty much simultaneously.

No! Another step and his shoulder blades were against the door. This was wrong! It was . . .

It was . . .

He slammed his head back against the door, almost had it, and swore as the memory slipped away.

CB stared down at the sheet of drawing paper on his desk. The lines pressed into the surface had gone gray again, just for an instant. He frowned. He didn’t like mysteries and he had already wasted far too much time on this one.

Still frowning, he opened his desk drawer and pulled out a pencil.

Palm flat against the cool skin of Lee’s chest, Tony struggled to ignore the little voice in his head trying to convince him to shut the fuck up and enjoy the ride. “Lee, this is, uh . . .”

“What you want. I give you what you want; you give me what I want. There are other ways I could gain the information, but since you’re here . . .” His voice trailed off as his hand connected with Tony’s crotch.

“No, you don’t WANT to be doing THIS . . . Fuck! Stop doING that!”

“No.”

“Look, I don’t want to hurt you.” The words emerged kind of jumbled together, but he managed to sound like he meant the threat.