Texan Undercover
by
Anne Marie Novark
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SMASHWORDS EDITION
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Sparks fly and computers crash when Claire Maxwell's cybercafe is used for nefarious purposes. She's thrown into the midst of an undercover operation and doesn't like it one bit. She really doesn't like being thrown in the company of the hot private eye handling the case. Claire doesn't believe in love or happily ever after anymore. Can the handsome P.I. change her mind?
Dillon Anderson needs Claire's help to stop a dangerous corporate hacker. What he doesn't need is the sucker punch of desire whenever she's near. Dillon has always avoided women like Claire, but avoiding this particular woman proves to be an impossible mission. Can he get the job done without getting done in himself?
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Texan Undercover
Copyright 2011 by Anne Marie Novark
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.
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This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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Dedication
To Keith.
Thanks for the technical support
and know-how.
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
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CHAPTER ONE
Austin, Texas 1998
Damn, he didn't need this.
The woman was a complication in what should have been a cut and dried case. He didn't need her exquisite beauty, her obvious wealth, her upper-class elegance . . . and he sure as hell didn't need the sexual awareness zinging through his body. He didn't need the distraction. Didn't need her. He just needed to do his job.
Dillon Anderson watched Claire Maxwell make her way across the restaurant's private dining room toward his table. She stopped and greeted the three men who'd hired him for the investigation, shaking their hands each in turn. Her soft voice and musical laughter touched something deep and primitive inside him. He squashed those feelings and tried to regain control of his renegade libido.
The woman packed a powerful punch, he had to give her that. Dillon didn't like how she affected him, but that didn't stop him from admiring the lady's slim build and nice curves.
According to the background check, she was thirty-two years old and divorced. Her photo hadn't done her justice and certainly hadn't prepared Dillon for the reality of the woman. The rich brown hair, glistening with golden highlights, cascaded down and brushed the tops of her shoulders. Dark brows and thick lashes framed chocolate-colored eyes. The smooth creamy skin of her cheeks and neck made Dillon wonder about the rest of her body. Would her breasts and stomach be creamy and smooth, too?
She hadn't even looked his way and already Dillon had her undressed in his mind. This overwhelming sensual feeling had to stop. He couldn't afford to give in to it. Hell, he knew better than to mix business with pleasure.
Control, Anderson. Where's your control?
When Claire stood before him and held out her hand, Dillon didn't hesitate. A good firm handshake, a quick release. He ignored the startled look in her eyes when they flew to his. Just as he ignored the zap of electricity arcing between them.
The waiter offered her a chair next to Dillon's. She took it with a murmur of thanks. A hint of expensive perfume drifted over him, lingered in the air.
Subtle. Sexy. Damn.
After she sat down, the men resumed their seats. Roger Nash, CEO of Lomar Industries, the man who'd contracted Dillon's agency, broke the ice. "Glad you could join us, Ms. Maxwell."
"You didn't give me much choice, did you?" she said with a polite smile.
Nash chuckled.
The woman straightened the silverware beside her plate. Her long tapered nails matched the dark crimson of her lips. Dillon tossed back half his Scotch.
"Would you care for a drink, my dear?" Nash motioned to the waiter.
"Water with lemon, please." Claire placed her napkin on her lap and accidently brushed Dillon with her elbow. "I'm sorry." She pressed those red-tipped fingers to his forearm for a brief second. The contact scorched him through the sleeve of his jacket. It didn't help when she jerked her hand away. The burn still remained.
"No problem," he said. Yeah, right. Liar. He tossed back the rest of his Scotch and ordered another. He looked around the table. The men were staring at Claire Maxwell. He'd stare too if she wasn't sitting so damn close. He wondered how the hell this assignment was going to work.
Claire folded her hands on the edge of the table. "Well, gentlemen. Don't keep me in suspense. Why have I been summoned here?"
Gunther Kirschman, owner of K & G Research, smiled. "Now we know why you've been so successful with your business and why e*Claire's is so popular. Straightforward, no-nonsense. Those qualities will take you far, young lady."
"They already have." Claire raised her glass in a mock toast. The men laughed and acknowledged the hit. Dillon didn't feel like laughing. The woman was a lethal combination of beauty and confidence.
Dangerous.
Claire set the crystal water glass on the linen tablecloth. "Seriously. I'm dying of curiosity. Why the secrecy? What's this all about?"
The waiter returned with two trays of appetizers.
"Let's eat first," said Paul Tolman of Tolman Technologies. "Then we'll have our discussion when there's less likelihood for interruptions."
Claire nodded and studied the menu. The woman might appear cool and collected on the outside, but Dillon sensed the tension emanating from her body. She wasn't going to like it when they explained the situation to her.
He didn't like the situation either. This routine undercover job was proving to be anything but routine. The woman sitting beside him complicated everything. But hey, complication was the name of the game in his line of work.
Everyone ordered dinner. While they waited, conversation turned to small talk. Dillon didn't contribute much; he wasn't good with chitchat. He sipped his drink and listened, trying to ignore the woman on his left and her teasing sexual pull.
When the waiter brought the food, Dillon sighed in relief. He focused on the steak he'd ordered. It wasn't often he could enjoy a leisurely dinner. Especially in a five-star restaurant in downtown Austin overlooking the Capitol Building. Most of his meals came in greasy paper sacks,
eaten on the run.
"Could you please pass the pepper?"
The woman's soft voice slid over him like fine brandy going down. Dillon caught another whiff of perfume. He reached for the salt and pepper mill and set them down with a snap near her plate. No way was he going to chance touching her fingers again. He didn't appreciate the way his body was reacting to Claire Maxwell. He didn't appreciate it, at all.
She slanted a glance from the salt and pepper mill to him. A smile played on her lips. "Thank you."
He nodded and tore his gaze away. Staring at his plate, Dillon took a bite of steak. For crying out loud, she wasn't even his type. Just look what she'd ordered. Something with pasta and salad. No meat. She was probably a vegetarian.
All through dinner, conversation flowed across the table like champagne at a banquet. Dillon never felt comfortable in social situations like this. He interjected a few one-liners, but for the most part kept his attention on his food and just listened. Claire's New England accent should have grated on his eardrums. Instead, her low cultured voice wrapped around him. Made him edgy. Damn.
She seemed content to converse where her table companions led. After that initial admission to curiosity, Claire hadn't mentioned it again. Dillon admired her control. He didn't want to admire anything about her.
Finally, the waiter cleared the table, served after-dinner drinks and left them in peace.
Claire wiped the corners of her mouth with her napkin and laid it beside her cup. Leaning her elbows on the table, she rested her chin on her folded hands. "I think you owe me that explanation now."
"It must seem strange that we've asked to meet with you when our businesses," Nash indicated the other two men, "are so different from yours."
"This doesn't have anything to do with the Chamber of Commerce contacting me last week, does it?"
"No, nothing like that," Nash said. "The work we do involves extensive research and the development of new technologies. Genetic engineering, nanotechnology and robotics to be exact. They are the wave of the future. Some people are afraid of that future."
"They want to stop progress," Kirschman piped in. "They fear it will get out of control, harm humanity and won't be used responsibly."
"Aren't those fears and concerns legitimate?" Claire took a sip of her coffee.
"Absolutely," Tolman said. "But without progress and scientific breakthroughs, we'd still be in the Stone Age. Progress cannot and should not be held back."
"So what does all of this have to do with me?"
"Someone's sabotaging our companies," Nash said. "Mr. Anderson here owns A & B Investigations based in Dallas. His agency has been working for the past six months to find the culprit."
Claire turned toward Dillon and eyed him with interest. Show time.
He pushed back his chair. "The firewalls in the computer networks of these gentlemen's companies have been breached. Earlier in the year, a hacker exploited Lomar's buffer overflow. They had to rebuild the server. Mr. Kirschman's company experienced a deliberate teardrop attack several months ago. It flooded their email exchange and shut down their system.
"Tolman's computers were infected with a virus last month. I've had operatives working inside tracking the source of these attacks. The hacker is good. He's been careful not to leave a trail. He doesn't work from his own computer." Dillon paused to see what effect the information had on Claire Maxwell. Her brown eyes widened with understanding. Intelligence as well as beauty and confidence. Double Damn.
"So you're implying that he's working out of e*Claire's?" she asked. "You're saying one of my customers is committing a crime?"
"Afraid so," Dillon said. "My guys traced the IP addresses to the computers in your cybercafé near the university."
"Why didn't you contact the FBI? Don't they usually handle things like this?" Claire asked Nash.
"We don't want the Feds involved yet. Too much red tape. Mr. Anderson's agency specializes in Internet crime. He's excellent at what he does."
Claire turned to Dillon. "So, what are you going to do now?"
"Go undercover and work at e*Claire's."
"Excuse me? You want me to hire you? In what capacity? I'm a small business operator. All positions are filled."
Dillon frowned. "These gentlemen are footing the bill. You'll pretend to hire me. For tech support."
"I provide tech support, thank you very much."
"By yourself?" Dillon asked. "With café scattered all over east Texas? You're expanding, aren't you? You'll need help."
"My cafes are within a couple hundred miles of each other. There are four total. I travel between them, as needed."
"Ms. Maxwell, we would appreciate your cooperation in this," Nash said.
"Why can't you pose as a customer?" she asked Dillon. "You can hang around, keep your eyes open."
"That's not enough. I need to be able to access information from all the computers. If I'm an employee, it won't arouse suspicion."
"I can't have just anyone working on my computers. What are your qualifications?" Claire demanded.
"Is this an interview?"
She raised her chin. "You might say that."
"Ms. Maxwell!" Nash said. "Mr. Anderson is the nation's top investigator of cybercrime. He's eminently qualified. Will you cooperate or won't you?"
Claire held up a hand. "I intend to cooperate fully. Give me a minute here. I'm trying to figure out how to do this without raising questions, since I've always said I'd never hire tech support."
"How about just saying you've changed your mind? You're expanding? You're tired of all the travel?" Dillon offered the suggestions and waited, trying not to notice her curves under the stylish business suit.
She nodded briskly. "I guess that will have to do. I'm opening two new e*Claire's--one in Dallas, one in Houston. Hiring tech support was inevitable. How long do you think the investigation will last?"
"Can't know for sure," Dillon said. "This isn't some kid doing mischief. This guy is serious."
"How serious? Is he dangerous?"
Dillon shrugged a shoulder. "Can't know that for sure either."
Claire stared at him. " I see. When do you want to start?"
"As soon as possible."
"Come by tomorrow," she said. "No, that would look suspicious. I'll start advertising tomorrow. Come see me next Monday. We'll fill out the paperwork."
She rose from her chair. Everyone stood.
"Thank you for the lovely dinner," she said. "I hope Mr. Anderson succeeds and catches your hacker." She turned to leave.
"Ms. Maxwell?" Dillon reached out, snagged her elbow and felt that heat again.
"Yes?" Her eyes held awareness and what? Caution? Distress? His fingers curled around her arm before he remembered to let go.
"No one can be told," he said. "The less people in the know, the better chance of success."
She forced a smile, then winked. "My lips are sealed." The woman was dangerous all right. "Trust me, Mr. Anderson." Claire nodded to the men and headed for the door.
Dillon watched her leave. Trust her? Not a chance.
****
On the following Monday morning, Claire arrived at the cafe earlier than usual. After booting up the systems, dusting around a little and starting the coffee, she retired to her office and waited. And fidgeted. Ever since she woke up, she'd been antsy. She had about half an hour before Natalie and Richard came in. Then another thirty minutes before the cafe opened for business.
Claire thumbed through Saturday's receipts. It had been a good day. But then, every day was a good day at e*Claire's. She still couldn't believe how fast the cybercafé had caught on. Especially with the university crowd. She had been lucky to snare a prime location on the drag across the street from the University of Texas. Natalie Fuller, her best friend from college, had jumped at the chance to manage the cafe for Claire. The food was select, the lattes and frappes were to die for and the atmosphere was conducive to study and friendly conversation. It didn't take long
before e*Claire's was the place to be.
Two years after opening the doors in Austin, Claire had expanded to other university towns: Bryan-College Station, Nacogdoches and Huntsville. All the cafes were doing great. Business was booming.
Was it about to go bust? Someone was using e*Claire's for criminal activities. Her little cybercafés were supposed to be havens from the outside world. A place for people to gather, drink coffee, eat a sandwich, check their email, chat with friends--online and off. A home away from home for students and faculty. And foreign travelers. E*Claire's was very popular with foreigners.
Claire straightened the stack of receipts. How long would it take to catch the hacker? Would the investigation interfere with the anniversary celebration planned for next month?
She opened a drawer, grabbed a rubber band and twisted it around the receipts. What would happen when an arrest was made? Would it be bad for business? Could the cafe weather the media blitz?
And how was she going to weather the close proximity of Mr. Dillon Anderson, day in and day out? Her body still tingled when she thought about dinner the other night. Shaking hands with the man had been a sensual experience. Sitting next to him at the table had made her hormones stand up and take notice. Claire's blood hummed with anticipation, knowing she'd see him today.
Thank goodness she travelled a lot, supervising the other cafes. She wouldn't have to see him every day. But she was in and out of this cafe most often. She lived here in Austin; she'd still see him. Too often.
And Claire didn't need some good-looking private eye underfoot and snooping around. Making her want things she couldn't have and didn't even believe in anymore.
"Hey, what are you doing here so early? Something going on I should know about?" Natalie sank down in the chair across from Claire's desk and sipped an espresso.
"I have someone coming in to interview for the tech support position." Claire hated not taking Natalie into her confidence. It seemed sneaky and underhanded.
Texan Undercover (Romantic Suspense) Page 1