Nicolas was the first person to speak. “Good morning, Mickey. You ready for us to get started?” he asked, shaking his hand.
Mickey’s hard stare turned into a warm greeting smile as he regarded Nicolas. “Good morning,” he replied in a low, even tone. He sounded affable as he slid his mask into place, but an icy trickle shivered down her spine. There was something wrong with Michael’s welcome, something more than last night.
Dressed in a comfortable cotton dress, Ruby was anything but relaxed. The atmosphere was charged. Curiosity, tension, and excitement flowed like an electrical current between them. A surge caught her breath. Releasing the air, she steadied her nerves, slowed down her heart.
Her hard work and persistence had brought her here. The reward for her effort was within arms reach. Her main objective—to install Illusion, and trace where Nicolas’s application transferred the company funds. To accomplish that she’d require time alone without Nicolas as her shadow. She’d have to rely on Michael to help in that area and she wasn’t sure how willing a participant he would be. Especially after she told him of her plan.
Ruby shrugged mentally. Oh, well, he’d get over it. He wanted to catch Nicolas, wanted to put the man away, wanted to find Nicolas’s partner and cohorts. He’d do her bidding because he needed her.
She stepped forward, her body tall and straight, portraying an air of confidence, offered him a smile. “Good morning.”
Michael nodded in response, spun on his heel, and headed down the hall. Nicolas extended his arm in front of him offering her to move ahead of him and follow Michael.
She scooted past Nicolas, trailing after Michael. She wondered if Nicolas was gallant or if he stared at her ass? Turning her head, Ruby eyed him over her shoulder, and got her answer. Nicolas’s lavender eyes were assessing and appraising. Men!
Michael gave them a quick and mostly silent tour of the small, but elegant office, using words only to identify the space they viewed. The final stop on the tour was the computer room where he housed state of the art equipment. If not for the hum of the computers the room would have seemed serene. Maize colored walls, a reproduction of Monet’s Water Lilies in a gilded frame, and a round mahogany table gave the space a sense of warmth and tranquility. She looked forward to working in this room. Alone.
* * * *
“What’s the path I need to type into the config file?”
“Sometimes you are a blonde,” Nicolas replied.
Her fingers poised over the keyboard, Ruby looked up and eyed his toothy grin, her return smile natural and reflexive.
“That’s what my father says.”
He gave her the path and she continued typing, her fingers moving over the keys. She loved doing this work. Loved the camaraderie it created. But should she be enjoying this? She installed software with a criminal and Michael less than twenty feet away. Heck, he could be less than that. He could have bugged the room. That gave her pause. He wouldn’t do that, would he?
“Hey. What happened to my connection?” she yelped. “Nico, are you screwing around back there?”
She crawled under the table to see what had happened. Too many gosh darn cables. Doesn’t anyone believe in wireless networks? On her hands and knees, Ruby fumbled through the cables looking for the correct one. Without a sound, a large, dark-tanned hand supplied her with it.
“Is this what you’re looking for?” Startled, she bumped her head on the underside of the table.
Nicolas had been on the other side of the room. Now he was right there, on his haunches across from her, eyeing her like a prime cut of meat.
Now, he stroked her hair where she’d hit her head. “Are you alright, mon petit chat? I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“I’m fine,” she said, a slight tremor in her voice.
Standing in the doorway out of sight, he watched as Nico kissed her fingers one by one.
“You look chilled. Would you like my jacket?”
The guy was such an oozing gentleman offering his jacket, Michael grumbled in his head.
Ruby peered down. Her eyes traveled to the same spot where Nicolas’s gaze held. The halter was tied so the bodice of the dress fit snug against her breasts. In his pants pocket, Michael’s hand fisted. Damn, if her nipples weren’t at attention. She was chilled. Or was she turned on? Shit!
She should have worn a sweater or something. Ruby knew computer rooms were cold. What the hell had that girl been thinking when she dressed for work? He should walk in there right now and wrap her in a wool blanket.
Her face flamed with embarrassment. “That’s probably a good idea—I see my fingernails are turning purple.”
She held her hands out for him to see, distracting Nicolas from his lustful stare. He took her hands in his, drew her to her feet. With the movement of a practiced seducer, he removed his linen jacket from the back of a chair and draped it around Ruby’s exposed shoulders. Too much familiarity.
Bile rose in Michael’s throat. He couldn’t stomach the too friendly scene any longer. He pivoted on his leather sole to leave.
“Where would you like to go for our date?” Nicolas asked Ruby in a husky accented voice. Why did women go for the accent? Didn’t they understand it was just a compensator?
He hadn’t even taken a step when he heard the question, and halted in his tracks. His back went ramrod straight. Date? Did he say date? He had to be mistaken. The air conditioner was loud. It probably just sounded like Nicolas had asked her out. Ruby wouldn’t go out with him. Alone. He’d warned her. He was a criminal, a target. Not to mention dangerous.
Mentally, Michael gave himself a head slap. The fact that Nicolas La Rue was their current target was why she would go out with him. Despite the warnings to steer clear, the woman had moved in with him. Why should a date be any different?
It was different because he put his paws all over her. He watched as Nicolas talked in her ear, made her giggle. Fury raged through Michael, fury at his weakness, his jealousy. But damn it, the smarmy bastard put the moves on Ruby. His Ruby. And he didn’t like it, not one damn bit. His fist clenched. He wanted to punch something, break anything.
If he thought it wouldn’t infuriate Ruby even more than she already was with him, he’d barge in there now and break every one of Nicolas’s French fingers, one knuckle at a time. Instead, Michael held his breath, listened for her response. Maybe she wouldn’t go. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe pigs would fly.
“You asked me out, remember. Therefore, you decide. Name the time and the place and the style for my attire. I’m all yours for the evening.”
Oh, she had another thing coming. There was no way she’d be alone with Nicolas. On a date. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to be Nicolas’s for the evening. Michael would make certain of that.
“D’accord. Dinner shall be Greek and casual, and since I know where you live I’ll pick you up at seven. We’ll eat some lamb, have some baklava for dessert and watch the sunset from the Greek piazza.”
“Sounds marvelous,” she exclaimed, then kissed his cheek, a gesture to seal the deal. “Now if you’ll excuse me I think I’ll go warm up at the coffee house down the block. You want me to bring you back anything?”
“Non. Merci.”
She snatched her briefcase from beside the chair where she’d been sitting, spun to leave, and smacked into a brick wall. Except this brick wall had arms and really really nice pecs. And she knew underneath its façade there was a great set of six-pack abs. He was red faced like the bricks, only she didn’t think it was because he was made of clay. Nope. His jaw clenched with tension, Michael was angry.
She swore without sound. Damn! Damn! Damn! His eyes confirmed he heard. Ruby saw rage burn there, controlled, leashed, but ready to spark. Her lip curled up in one corner—oddly comforted.
Michael’s eyebrow quirked upward in question, his stance grew wider. “Going somewhere?”
Had he bugged the room? Or had he been standing there, silent, and spying? Well, she hadn’t done anyth
ing wrong. She’d done everything right. Screw him and his he-man attitude. She did her job and did it well. Okay, maybe a little too well, but that’s not the point.
What was the point? Oh, yeah, to help her pain-in-the-ass best friend, sometime lover, and sorta kinda her boss, catch a thief.
Her wits gathered, Ruby spoke. “Want any coffee? I’m going down the block for a break.”
Taking a step to the side to leave, Michael didn’t budge.
“What’s wrong, cold?”
She hunched her shoulders, hiding her breasts. Not anymore, she thought. Hell, she was hot now, and playing with fire, and if she wasn’t careful it would singe her.
“Nope, gotta go.” She barreled past the roadblock, stumbled over his large feet which made her think of something out of context, and made it to the door. With one hand she waved. “Be back shortly.”
As the door shut without a sound behind her, Ruby hurried outside, away from the office.
TWENTY-THREE
Whew. That was close. She’d narrowly avoided a head on confrontation with Michael. If she’d stayed much longer those two men would have frazzled her nerves for certain. One all about the sex, and the other all about his ego. No, wait. That was both of them.
After getting her tall raspberry mocha, Ruby took a seat at the window in the cyber café, powered on her laptop. Eyes closed, she exhaled, waited for a sense of focus to overtake her. Before she opened them, she had the unsettling feeling of someone watching her.
Her lids popped open. Before they could readjust, she caught a blur of movement outside the window, dark hair, silver eyes, and square chin. Thomas? She could have sworn she saw her ex-fiancé. Impossible.
Taking a sip of her cappuccino, she reassured herself she hadn’t seen her ex. If Thomas was in Hawaii Michael would know. He would’ve told her. And he wouldn’t have let her out of his sight. Just to be certain, Ruby swiveled around on the red leather and stainless steel stool. Nope, no Michael. No bodyguard. Just her imagination.
Turning back around, she tapped on her keyboard. She hadn’t left the office for a cup of java. She’d left to get some alone time so she could install Illusion. She couldn’t do it with Nicolas hanging over her shoulder. She thought about having Michael distract him so she could install it from the office, but thought that her playing on the computers while the guy who actually knew what he was doing was nowhere to be seen might seem suspicious. Plus, knowing Nicolas, he’d double-check her work, which meant he might find a digital trail...even though she knew she would never leave one. She was good, but cautious.
The application up on her screen, Ruby typed in the path for Michael’s network and password, clicked the submit button, and away it went. The installation process started.
“Now, let’s see if we can help a little more,” she said to herself, rubbing her hands together in excited anticipation, the mad scientist in Frankenstein right before he pulled the electrical lever that brought the monster to life.
She wrote the emailHound application to trace emails to and from Nicolas’s network and to be on the safe side Ruby wanted to have copies of those emails sent to a server as well as her laptop. That way, if anything happened they’d have a backup. She could also direct Michael to access the information so they could both see who Nico communicated with, and maybe determine the identity of his partner.
Michael would have a cow if he knew about her emailHound. He’d strangle her now if he had a clue what she was up to. So she sealed her lips until she finished. Better to ask forgiveness than to ask permission.
As she watched the blue progress bar increment on her monitor an eerie sensation of being observed tingled up her spine. She shivered trying to put it out of her mind.
“Come on, hurry up,” she muttered to the laptop. Was she being paranoid? Probably. But she couldn’t shake the feeling. Someone pierced her with their eyes. She wanted to get this done and get out of there.
The blue stopped, the installation complete. Time to get back to Michael. She pushed the off switch and waited for the laptop to power down. Incredible. She couldn’t believe it. One shudder and all she wanted was Michael, her muscular, blue-eyed secret agent.
The screen went blank, she shut the lid, and placed it back in its neoprene case. After zipping it in, Ruby lifted her cappuccino mug to take one last sip and froze. The deep silver eyes that had once entranced her, now cold and gray, glared back at her through the storefront window. The glass was tinted. Maybe he couldn’t see her.
“Ruby, honey, I see you.” His endearing use of her name and the sing-song way he said it sounded maniacal. Her stomach roiled, she dropped the cup. As it hit the ground and shattered, she snatched up her briefcase and bolted toward the door.
Thomas. How had he found her? Who the hell cared? She had to get out of the café, had to get away from him. She needed to get to Michael. She should never have left the office, never have left him. Why did he let her leave? Wasn’t he the one always telling her to not go out alone? What did Michael think?
When she reached the front of the shop, Ruby stopped to look back at the window. He’d vanished. She couldn’t see him. Shit! Did he go away? Was he waiting for her to walk outside? Then what? He hadn’t hurt her. He’d stalked her. Repeatedly. Michael thought he was dangerous, violent. He was probably right. And she admitted that now.
Her heart pounded inside her chest. Think, Ruby, think. She couldn’t very well pull out her Lady Derringer right here. That would be too risky and could cause a panic. But she could grip the Glock from inside her purse. If Thomas tried to intercept her outside the building she’d be prepared. Yes! That’s what she’d do.
Hand tucked inside her purse, she wrapped her fingers around the pistol. The cold steel warmed in her grip. The feel of its hard strength and its smooth texture was...seductive, bold, and irresistible. She felt empowered.
Glancing around one last time, Ruby determined Thomas was nowhere in sight. The computer case tucked under her right arm, she opened the door, and peered ahead. Switching her laptop back to her left hand, she started outside.
Before the door closed behind her, a hand grasped Ruby’s wrist with enough force for her to release her grip on the gun, stumble over her sandals, and get yanked out the door into a shadowed corner.
Panic clawed at her stomach. She’d been wrong. So wrong. Fear almost seized her brain when he tugged at her again. Someone tried to yank her arm out of its socket.
She’d show him. Her pistol was still inside her purse. If she couldn’t shoot him, she’d beat him. A woman’s bag was a dangerous weapon. Add a little gunmetal and it’s an anvil dropping from the sky. Before she could put her thoughts into action a hard body pressed her against the wall, the brick bit into her backside, the breath knocked out of her.
Against the wall, she trembled with anger and fright. How would she get out of this? Eyes closed, she gasped for air, tried to catch her breath. Maybe if she just kept her eyes shut the inevitable wouldn’t be inevitable. He was going to hurt her. Here. On the street in Hawaii, and no one would know who’d done it. Or maybe he planned to kidnap her. He said if he couldn’t have her no one else would. Did he mean to lock her up and keep her to himself? The thought was disgusting. Clamping her eyelids shut tighter, she tried to block the image.
His warm breath on her neck, his lips touched her ear. Ugh. She was going to throw up.
“Cat.”
“Michael?” Her eyelids flew open. Michael. He was here. Oh, thank goodness.
She shivered in his arms. Her face pale, amber eyes flickered with fear. He wanted to scare her, make a point, but not hurt her. With a gentleness reserved for her, his thumb stroked the delicate skin on the inside of her wrist.
Something had disturbed her. Michael watched her twirl her finger in her hair, worry her lower lip between her teeth. Dead giveaways. Then she’d dropped the mug. It slipped from her hand like a knife through warm butter, and clattered to the floor. When coffee splattered against her bare legs
she didn’t seem to notice. Instead, she did a grab-n-go. She grabbed her bag and got out of there. And here she stood.
“What was it?”
He cupped her chin in his hand, lifted it upward, and brought her gaze to his. Her lips quivered, but she collected herself. He admired that.
“I...I saw Thomas.”
“Shit!” His grip tightened. When he saw Ruby wince, he released her, dropped his hands to his sides.
“Are you sure it was him?” Why was he asking? Of course it was him. He knew the guy was here. That was why he’d tailed her. Until Jake was available, he would be her stand-in bodyguard.
“Yes. I saw him through the window.”
Damn. He couldn’t see through the tinted glass where she’d sat. He should have walked around to that side of the building. But he hadn’t been able to get to the shop quick enough because Nicolas had wanted to gloat over his upcoming date with Ruby. He’d been there long enough to see her fidget, and then run.
“Did he do anything to you? Are you okay? Did you see where he went?” He looked at her, checked her over for bruises, or any other injury. If her ex hurt her it would be the last thing he did. Michael would make it his personal agenda to hunt the bastard down and make him suffer, a slow, painful death.
“No.”
“Damn it, Ruby! Why were you here? Did you need a cappuccino that bad?” His tone was clipped, tight. He couldn’t help it. He was frustrated, with her, himself, the situation.
“No, I didn’t need a cappuccino.” He watched as her spine stiffened. She glared at him. Here was the defiant Ruby he knew and loved. “I did my job.”
“What?” In an attempt to gain control over his rising temper, Michael inhaled sharply and let it out slow. “What are you talking about? Your job was to install Illusion.”
“Yes. And I just did.”
“From here? Isn’t that why you were at the office? Isn’t that why I got you assigned to Nicolas’s job with me?”
It Happens in Threes Page 24