Double Bang!
by
KyAnn Waters
&
Tarah Scott
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Double Bang!
COPYRIGHT Ó 2011 by KyAnn Waters & Tarah Scott
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Diana Carlile
The Wild Rose Press
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewilderroses.com
Publishing History
First Scarlet Rose Edition, April 2011
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
Dedicated to the number three
because all good things come in threes.
Double Bang!
“Oh, my god.” Sara Martin stared at the computer monitor. What she saw wasn’t supposed to be there.
The slowing of her computer had been so slight, she’d almost dismissed it. But she’d initiated the secondary scan—something she’d never had to do in the two years she’d worked for J&R Ltd. Import and Export—and found the kernel-mode rootkit. The powerful malware had evaded the nightly scans, concealing its purpose from the active processes.
No ordinary spyware could penetrate the state-of-the-art system. That meant someone had hacked into J & R Ltd’s system.
“This is so not good.” Her heart began to pound and the hairs at the nape of her neck tingled. Her internal warning system sounded an alarm. The network security for the import and export corporation was the best in the world. Maintaining secrecy for the high profile clients who spent millions of dollars on rare antiques was the company’s top priority. Her boss, Bradley Jackson, built his clientele by making sure their business transactions were safer than the gold at Fort Knox.
But he’d been wrong. Someone had installed a backdoor client on his impregnable virtual fortress.
She glanced at the clock in the corner of her screen. Five minutes to eight. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” Bradley was in a meeting with a wealthy Japanese client and they would be in full negotiations by now. She grabbed her cell from the desk, slid it open, and sent a text. 911. Not that he’d see the message as an emergency, not with a million dollar deal on the line. Sara considered texting the details but didn’t. Their system had been breached. God only knew who might be monitoring communications. “I should just go to him. He’ll know what to do.”
Sara jabbed the monitor button. The screen went blank, and she grabbed her purse from inside the lower right hand drawer of her desk, then rose. Three steps forward and she froze.
“Shit.” She should unplug the computer system. Her terminal was the hub for all activity on the company’s intranet. Anyone high tech enough to get into her computer could possibly bypass her system and access another. Pulling her chair away from her desk, she tossed her purse on the cushion and dropped to her knees. Her fitted skirt rucked up her thighs and hips as she shimmied underneath the desk. She felt along the wall to the plug, grunted when she didn’t readily locate the plug, then stretched until her fingertips reached the cord. A hard jerk pulled the line free.
“I should just call the police,” she mumbled as she wiggled back out from under the desk…and bumped into something solid.
Sara squeaked and jerked, banging her head hard on the underside of the desk. “Damn,” she cried, clamping her hand over the small knot forming on her head. She glanced to the left. Black polished wingtips stood directly behind her. Her heart jumped and little quiver started in her belly. Devon Curran, the man who made her warm in the most unprofessional way, was standing above her—staring at her ass, which was still nestled against his legs.
“This is an interesting variation to the way I pictured you on your knees.”
The drawled words spoken with deep male appreciation sent a rush of awareness flowing through her, settling in the places she had imagined his hands and mouth. And he’d pictured her on her knees? She closed her eyes and swallowed.
Over the last couple of weeks, Devon had flirted shamelessly and she’d enjoyed his attention. But this was beyond unbearable. Heat bloomed in her cheeks. Not the ones he was staring at, but the ones on her face. Just because she’d entertained the idea of asking him to her place after work, of feeling his weight press her into the bed, holding her down as he fucked her with a slow screw and eased the ache between her legs, she wouldn’t. This was work. Devon was her office infatuation…and taking him home would pose problems of another kind.
“Devon,” she scolded, scooting back. She had to get to the restaurant. “I don’t have time for bantering sexual innuendo.” He didn’t move. She was forced to bump her ass against his immovable legs. “Move.”
He laughed. “Not if you keep doing that.”
“Now!”
He sighed and stepped out of the way.
Sara scooted the rest of the way out and stood. Heat from his gaze bore into her back as she shimmied her skirt into place. She grabbed her purse. “I have to go.”
Sara whirled and got a mouthful of muscled chest beneath a starched white shirt. She snapped her head up, and her gaze locked onto Devon’s deep blue eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Strong fingers grasped her shoulders. For a heart-stopping second, neither of them moved. The slow caress of his hands down her arms thickened the sexual tension. “You’re trembling.”
And she was betting it was from the nearness of this man and not the break in security. He stared down at her with such heat that her insides liquefied. Warmth pooled in her pussy and her nipples tightened. Devon joined J & R Ltd two months ago. He had turned out to be a distraction she was still learning to deal with. Just hearing his voice down the short hallway that separated them conjured visions of the treasures hidden beneath the linen shirts and pressed trousers that fit him to sinful perfection. His angled face, dark hair, blue eyes, and muscular body made him the perfect GQ model.
“Sara.” The way her name slipped off his tongue caused a shiver to slide up her spine. “What’s going on?” He frowned. “You’re scared.”
“Hell, yes, I’m scared. There’s an intruder in my office.” And she wasn’t referring to the one that had her panties damp and her heart thundering.
A corner of his mouth twitched. “Is that what I am?”
“Right now, yes.” With those damn sexy dimples highlighted by a five o’clock shadow, she wanted him to intrude on her personal space—intrude intimately. She shrugged free of his hold.
He propped a hip on her desk. “How about I take you to dinner?”
She pictured dinner in a dimly lit restaurant, them alone in a private corner where he could reach under the table and slip his hand beneath her skirt and into her curls. “Devon, I’m going downtown. I have to talk to Bradley. I sent him a text, but this can’t wait until he decides to reply.” She considered discussing the breach, then realized neither of them could make a decision without talking to Bradley. “This is bigger than you or I can handle.”
“I think you can handle anything.” He wagged his brows. “Regardless of size.” His voice lowered and his lips tilted into a mischievous smile.
“Devon! This is serious.” She narrowed her eyes. “Are you drunk?”
“Completely sober…and hungry.” He grinned. “I’ll
go with you and we can grab dinner.”
“I can’t. We have a network breach. My gut tells me something is very wrong—beyond the security of our system. We have records of shipment dates, our warehouse locations. If anyone decided to intercept a shipment or break into a warehouse, we would never find the merchandize.”
He stood. “Okay, calm down. I’ll handle it.”
“You?”
“I admit it. I’m a Tom Clancy junkie. I’ve always wanted to find myself embroiled in some high action espionage with a beautiful woman. So how about it?”
“How about what? You need to take this seriously.”
“I am, but the system is practically impenetrable. A security breach would have to come from the inside, and Bradley is too thorough to let the wrong person close to his business.” Devon cupped her elbow with his palm. “But I’ll take you to Bradley, then we’ll go to dinner.”
“Not tonight.”
He didn’t move. Sara shot him a deprecating look, then turned sideways and sidled past him. Her pebbled nipples brushed against the linen shirt stretched taut across his chest. She held her breath until her shoulder brushed his and she was past him, then started for the door. He seized her wrist. She jerked her gaze to the fingers that held her in a gentle but unbreakable grip, then frowned.
“What did you text to Bradley?” he demanded.
“What?”
“This will be easier if you tell me what you know.”
Apprehension skimmed the edges of her consciousness. “I know I need to go.”
He stepped in front of her. “No.”
The intensity in his stance and the directness of the single spoken word sent a frisson of fear crawling along her skin. “Devon, you’re scaring me.” She tried to push past him.
His arm banded around her waist, and he yanked her against his solid body “We’re going to calmly walk out of here—together.”
She froze. Bradley was thorough when it came to who he let close to his business. Before she’d been hired, she’d undergone a background check that rivaled an FBI investigation. Devon would have undergone the same check. Was it possible the wrong person had slipped past Bradley’s security? About as possible as someone hacking into their system.
“Don’t make a scene.”
The cold note in his voice sent a prickle down her spine.
“You’re absolutely right,” he said. “This is bigger than you and me, and I’m not about to let you fuck up my operation.”
Blood roared through her ears. Devon, gorgeous Devon had to be involved with the system breach. Whatever she’d stumbled onto was going to get her bound, gagged, and thrown into the trunk of a car until the cops found her dead body. A whimper escaped her lips.
“Relax, Sara. I only want to talk.”
“Talk?” Panic raced to the surface. She drew in a sharp breath with the intent to scream.
Devon’s lips crashed down on hers. He hugged her in a breath-stealing embrace and lightheadedness weakened her knees. She pounded on his chest. Her hip dug into something hard and her stomach tumbled. The hard steel pressing into her wasn’t the cock that had fueled her fantasies, that hard heated shaft driving into her while she drowned in his mesmerizing blue eyes. No, this bulge was at waist level. He had a gun strapped to his side. Tears burned the corners of her eyes, and a wave of terror buckled her legs.
Bang! Bang! You’re dead.
Devon caught her to him. “Goddammit, Sara.” He almost sounded repentant. “Let’s go. Now.” He propelled them toward the door. “Not a word. Understand?”
“Are you going to kill me?”
He gave a snort. “Of course not, but if you don’t do exactly what I say, I will paddle your ass.”
****
Devon mentally cursed. This wasn’t happening. One night. One fucking night left before this was all over and Sara had to come across his rootkit in the system. How the hell had she known what it was? He glanced at her sitting in the passenger seat of his sport coupe, and his chest tightened. She stared out the side window into the night, refusing to look at him, to speak to him, to even listen to reason.
“For a rational woman, you’re being very stubborn. I can explain everything.”
“Unless you are going to stop this car and let me out, I don’t care what you have to say.” Her head snapped in his direction. “This is kidnapping. You’re looking at serious prison time if you don’t let me go.”
“I’m not the one engaged in criminal activity.” He hated for her to discover the truth this way. He would have told her, eventually. Once his assignment was over, he had every intention of pursuing her for more than a business arrangement. His personal interest was a source of contention between him and Rigg, his partner. The man she didn’t know, but did. Their betrayal was going to piss her off, but they needed to protect her. “I’ll explain everything.”
She shot him a lethal glare. He sighed, picked up his cell, and dialed Rigg.
Rigg answered on the first ring. “Are we a go?”
“Yeah, with complications.” He glanced at Sara. She still stared, eyes narrowed, lips tight. She was more angry than scared. He hoped like hell that was a good thing. “I have a noncompliant Sara with me. I need the file.”
“Dammit,” Rigg muttered. “Why? What happened?”
“She may have compromised the situation.”
“What does she know?” Worry laced Rigg’s words.
“She found the rootkit.”
“Fuck,” Rigg cursed. “How?”
He still hadn’t figured that out. She shouldn’t have been able to detect the rootkit. He’d be pissed if he weren’t impressed. “We knew she was smart. We’ve got to tell her everything. Full disclosure. Meet me.” Because there was always risk Sara would discover Devon’s activities, the contingency plan included a designated meeting place.
“Devon—”
“I know.” His gut tightened. There wasn’t any way to lessen the impact of what they’d done. Could she forgive his betrayal—and Rigg’s? “Be there in fifteen minutes,” Devon said to Rigg, then snapped shut the phone and dropped it into the cup holder between the seats.
Devon shifted his gaze to the rearview mirror for any tails as he made a right hand turn and headed to a small beach motel in Santa Monica. Bradley was a suspicious son-of-a-bitch. Devon had no way of knowing how long it had been since Sara sent the text—and she still hadn’t told him what she’d sent. He needed to know because the situation was dangerous and if Bradley learned of the investigation, all their work would be worthless. And people would be hurt. “What did you send Bradley in the text?”
“I’m not talking to you.”
“You will.” He heard her swallow. She should be scared. He was.
The motel came into view, and Devon slowed. Darkness cloaked the building, but in the distance, lights dotted the coastline to where the Santa Monica Pier jutted outward over the water, its colorful Ferris wheel lighting up the main shopping district. He turned into the covered parking lot, drove toward the rear, reversed the car into the parking stall in readiness for a hasty departure, and killed the engine.
He faced Sara. “Don’t bring attention to us. Just trust me for the next fifteen minutes.”
“Trust you?” she retorted, her voice thick with incredulity. “You’re holding me against my will.”
Even in the dimly lit parking area, even pissed off, her eyes, like cut emeralds, sent heat skittering across his flesh. “When I hold you, it won’t be against your will.”
Her mouth parted in a small huff. Fuck, how was he going to get through this night? Her breathy gasps were an aural assault on his reined in control. The way she looked, all curves and feminine softness. Sexy sophistication. Blonde hair, sultry bedroom eyes and full lips perfect for kissing. Perfect for sinful pleasures. Her mouth made his cock hard and his balls heavy. But he’d fallen for her because of her sense of humor, her intelligence…and the way she smelled. Her perfume teased him, tempted him…distract
ed him.
Devon popped open the driver’s door. Before he could walk around the vehicle, she was out of the car, arms crossed over her chest. She might be angry, but she was smart enough to know he wasn’t going to let her go. A sliver of relief loosened his shoulders. Her anger and determination meant she wasn’t as terrified as she wanted him to think—at least not of him. Intuitively, she had to know he wouldn’t hurt her. He’d give a year’s salary to be right.
“Room 16. It’s at the end of the building.” He linked their arms. Heat from her arm penetrated the thin layer of linen and warmed his flesh. Sara was six inches shorter than him and four years younger than his thirty-three years. She was as smart as she was beautiful, which meant he had his work cut out for him tonight.
They reached the door, and Devon slid his keycard through the handle. The small light blinked green, and he pushed open the door.
“Did you have this planned?” She tugged on her arm in an effort to break free of his grasp.
“Of course.” Devon gave her a gentle shove across the threshold. “Everything except your discovery of the computer hack.”
She spun to face him. “So kidnapping isn’t your only crime! What are you going to do when the cops find out you’ve hacked my computer?”
Devon stepped inside the room, forced her back another step, and chuckled as he locked the bolt. “I was just thinking that you are as smart as you are beautiful, but maybe you’re more beautiful.”
“Oh, thanks! What the hell is that supposed to mean?” She braced her hands on her hips. The sheer lace of her bra was a shadow beneath her thin blouse. He swallowed hard, knowing she wore sexy lingerie beneath her conservative clothing. Nylons encased toned legs and trim thighs. Thighs he wanted locked to his hips and legs he wanted wrapped around his waist. Christ, he needed to get his mind out from between the sheets and focus on gaining back her trust.
He brushed past her as he slipped off his jacket. He tossed it on the bed and continued to the small refrigerator. “I am the cops.”
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