Mr. Dangerously Sexy

by Stefanie London

  “Seems odd, then, that he’d be doing his hacking at a coffee place in Midtown,” Rhys commented. “It’s not exactly around the corner.”

  “Could be closer to where he lives?” Aiden shrugged. “Or maybe that’s exactly why he chose it, because he wouldn’t be recognized there.”

  “So we’ve got eyes on him around his work,” Logan clarified, eager to keep the conversation on track. “What did we come up with?”

  “Not a lot,” Aiden admitted, raking a hand through his dark unruly hair. “He seems to lead a pretty normal life. Gets up, goes to work, goes to the gym and comes home. We haven’t seen him go into the coffee shop since we started tailing him on Monday.”

  “It’s only been a few days, so we can’t count on that to mean anything.” Logan drummed his fingers on his knee, his mind trying to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. “Have we got any further information from the tech side?”

  “Quinn managed to track down some old posts under the DaZetta username and it turns out he’s fairly new to this whole hacking thing,” Rhys said. “He had help building the Trojan virus that he sent to Addison. But there’s not much else to go on. Her personal computer has come up clean, so we’re assuming he doesn’t have her other email address.”

  “I wonder if we could approach him and put the pressure on,” Aiden suggested. “He works for an accounting firm. I doubt they’d take too kindly to one of their employees doing some illegal hacking on the side.”

  “It’s worth a try. But it means we’ll have to show our hand,” Logan said. “Unless you think you can get something more from this virus, Rhys?”

  “Unfortunately, no.” Rhys shook his head. “I can only get whatever he gives us at this point, and I’m still confident that he’s figured out we’re watching since the dummy device won’t be sending him any data. Quinn is digging around online to see what else she can find out about him, but it seems he’s keeping a fairly low profile. He hasn’t posted much on the forum since before the virus came through.”

  Logan looked over his case notes. “How did things go with the truck that ran Addison off the road?”

  “No go,” Aiden said. “I checked in with one of my old buddies who’s now at the DMV, and we couldn’t find any red trucks registered to Michael Zetta. The plate number you gave me is currently unregistered.”

  “Of course it is.” Logan rolled his eyes and pushed up from his chair. “And we didn’t get much from the security cameras at the gas station, or from Addison’s building security footage. Just a male with dark hair, nothing we didn’t already have. Well, if we have someone watching him then let’s give it a little longer before we approach Zetta. I want to be sure this is our guy, especially since we haven’t got much to tie him to the virus other than a surname, which isn’t enough. When we nail him, I want it to stick.”

  He left his team to keep working and went in search of coffee. Detouring past Addison’s office, he noticed she wasn’t there and stopped to chat to Renee. Addison’s assistant sat behind her desk, which was covered in photos of her adorable twin girls.

  “Hi, Logan, what can I do for you?” She smiled brightly as she paused from her lightning-speed typing.

  “Where’s Addi?” He didn’t mean to bark the question out so forcefully, but his nerves were on edge since their fight. Cringing, he tried to smooth his voice out. “I mean, what time do you think she’ll be back at her desk?”

  “She’s sitting in on the finance team meeting at the moment,” Renee replied, swiveling toward the second screen on her desk where Addison’s calendar sat. “Looks like she’ll be in there for at least another half hour. But between you and me, they always go over. I think Jeff enjoys hearing the sound of his own voice.” She tapped a perfectly manicured finger to her chin. “So I’d give it forty-five to be sure. Would you like me to send her over when she’s done?”

  “Thanks, Renee, that would be great.” He hovered on the spot. “Uh, how is she today?”

  Renee raised a brow. “How is she?”

  “Yeah, as in...” He cleared his throat. “Mentally.”

  “Uh, fine, I guess. She looked a little tired this morning but she seemed okay.”

  “Tired, right.” He bobbed his head. Had she been up all night?

  An image flitted across his brain—a taunting flash of Addison and Owen together. He gritted his teeth and shoved the thought aside. No, that’s not what it would be. She wouldn’t jump straight into another man’s arms.

  Yeah, that’s more your move, remember?

  “Thanks, Renee.”

  He headed back to his office and tried to shake the restlessness from his limbs. A feeling of dread plagued him. And that intuition—like an impossible-to-reach itch under the skin—wouldn’t let him go.

  Something bad is going to happen.

  No, it wouldn’t. He had to stay on his game, and that meant not letting the dark worries distract him. Addison would be fine. They would be fine.

  They.

  God, how could he have been so stupid? It was a miracle that Addison was still talking to him after everything he’d done. He wouldn’t waste that gift. Sure, he couldn’t promise that he’d never piss her off in the future by doing what he felt was right, but that wasn’t the point, was it? He should have kept her in the loop; he should have talked to her.

  Communication. His family had never been good at it.

  He hadn’t even known his mother was ill until she died. All that time she’d lain there in the hospital, battling complications from her diabetes, he’d been none the wiser. His father had said that he’d wanted to protect Logan from the pain of seeing his mother suffer. But it hadn’t done any good. Secrets didn’t help anyone.

  His mother had been alone—a cheating husband and absent son leaving her to die all by herself, surrounded by beeping machines and strangers in white coats. Pain coursed through him. If only his father had manned up and told him what was going on...

  He didn’t want to be like his father, which meant he needed to tell Addison how he felt. He needed to promise her that he was ready to be the man she deserved. Honest, open. Trusting.

  * * *

  ADDISON FOUND HERSELF staring off into space while the company’s finance director, Jeff, droned on. Normally, she’d be totally engaged in the team meeting. But today her mind was elsewhere.

  “Don’t you agree, Addison?” Jeff asked from the head of the boardroom table. The rest of the team turned toward her, awaiting her response.

  A clock ticked in the silence. The meeting should have ended twenty minutes ago.

  “Of course, but, Jeff, I’m afraid I need to run. I’ve got another meeting that I’m late for.” She stood and grabbed her phone, tripping on her chair in her haste to get out of the stuffy room. “Great job, everyone.”

  Curious eyes stared at her from all around, and she pasted a bright smile on her face before darting out of the room. So what if they all thought she was crazy? No one would say anything to her directly. One of the perks of being the boss, as Logan would say.

  Logan. Her tummy flipped as her mind conjured an image of him, but before she could delve too far into the confusing swirl of thoughts in her head, her phone rang.

  “Addison Cobalt speaking,” she said, pressing the phone to her ear.

  “It’s Richard James, Comrade Real Estate. I’m calling to confirm our appointment this afternoon.” He paused. “I have another buyer who’s asking about the property, so I wanted to make sure you’re still interested.”

  “I am,” she said resolutely. “I’m leaving the office now.”

  “Excellent. I’ll see you soon.”

  This was it, the first step in her spreading her wings. If she had the place all lined up before she spoke to Logan, he might take her seriously and not try to convince her to stay at Cobalt & Dane. Sh
e could even take him there and explain what it meant to her. She could show him how important it was.

  Excitement bubbled up in her stomach.

  “Addison.” Renee waved to catch her attention. “Logan was looking for you earlier. I said I’d ask you to stop by his office when you were done.”

  “I can’t. I’ve got to run out for an hour or so.” Addison sailed past Renee’s desk to grab her purse. “Was it urgent?”

  “He didn’t say.” Her assistant cocked her head as she peered at her computer. “Where are you headed?”

  Since she’d revealed her secret to the most important person in her life, she wouldn’t have to keep her big plans in the shadows for much longer.

  Smiling, she straightened her shoulders. “I’m meeting with Richard James from Comrade Real Estate. It’s personal...kind of.”

  “Do you need me to call a car?”

  “No, it’s okay. I’ll grab a cab.” She waved over her shoulder as she sailed out of the office, high on the possibilities that lay ahead of her. “I’ll be back by three.”

  By the time Addison made it out of the building and into a cab, her whole body buzzed. It wasn’t butterflies in her tummy any longer, but great winged beasts. Dragons, maybe. Something fierce, like her. She stifled a grin, thinking about how proud her father would be. He’d always raised her to be hardworking and creative.

  The cab crawled through the city at whatever was slower than a snail’s pace. Each block felt like ten, each red light another hurdle to jump. She toyed with her phone, resisting the urge to call Logan. The discussion they needed to have wasn’t one that should happen over the phone. They should be face-to-face when she told him that she wanted him. Not for a night or two, but forever.

  Hold your horses, Cobalt. Let’s tackle one thing at a time—deal with this office space and then think about what to say to Logan.

  The cab made it to the bridge and Addison watched the water rise up to the side. It was a perfect New York summer day—with blistering sunshine and sticky heat. Some people hated it, but she lived for summer. Lived for the freedom that came with tossing all her layers into a cupboard and locking them up for another six months.

  She wondered if her new office would have a view, if she’d be able to make it feel cozy and homey.

  “We’re almost there,” the cabbie said as they headed in the direction of Prospect Park.

  A guy in a suit stood with a folder on the corner of the street. He waved at the cab as if he recognized her. Funny, since they hadn’t met in person. But there were no other cabs around, so she shrugged the thought off.

  After paying the fare, she stepped out into the street. “Richard?”

  “You must be Addison,” he said. She expected him to stick his hand out but he kept a slight distance from her, instead raking his hand through dark hair. “The property is on the other side of the street. We’ll need to walk through here.”

  He gestured to a small lane between two buildings. Unease settled in Addison’s stomach, but she looked up at the bright sky and big leafy green trees. It was probably nerves and the weight of her decision settling in.

  “Lead the way,” she said.

  Her heels clicked noisily against the pavement as they walked, echoing down the quiet street. This section of the neighborhood seemed to be peaceful and pretty, exactly what she was searching for. She might even give up her Manhattan apartment for a place closer by—perhaps a cute brownstone. She wondered what Logan would prefer, and then stopped herself.

  One step at a time...

  The lane became darker as they walked into the shadow of the building next to them. No one appeared to be coming or going.

  “Are you sure this is the right way?” Addison asked. She gazed down to a fence at the end of the lane. “It looks like it’s closed off.”

  At that moment Richard turned to her sharply, and she realized he had something in his hand. Fabric. But before she could register what was going on, he had his hand up to her mouth.

  Then she faded to nothingness.

  16

  LOGAN CAME OUT of his office around four to see where Addison had gotten to. It wasn’t like her to avoid a meeting, even if she was pissed at him. The Addi he knew wouldn’t shrink in the face of conflict. He strolled to her office and found Rhys and Quinn chatting with Renee outside.

  “She’s not back yet,” Renee said before he’d even had a chance to open his mouth. Her hair was falling out of its bun and she looked the very definition of frazzled. “I know everyone wants a piece of her time, but I can’t magically make her appear.”

  Logan frowned. “Did she have an appointment somewhere?”

  “Yes, but it wasn’t in her calendar. Apparently she had a meeting with a real estate company. Comrade Real Estate, I think she said.” Renee sighed. “Sorry if I seem snappy, but she promised she’d be back before three, and now I’m trying to rearrange all her afternoon meetings. She won’t answer her phone, either.”

  That didn’t sound like Addison at all.

  “Can we call Comrade Real Estate?” Quinn suggested. “Maybe her phone died.”

  Logan nodded. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

  Why would she be meeting with a real estate company? Perhaps after what’d happened she no longer felt safe in her apartment.

  “I made a note of the person she was meeting,” Renee said. “Richard James. I’ll look up the company website and find a phone number.”

  That prickling unease returned, burrowing under Logan’s skin. He tried to dismiss it; Addison was her own person, so she could meet with whomever she wanted about whatever she wanted.

  So why did he feel like something was on the verge of going horribly wrong?

  “Oh, here we go.” Renee picked up her desk phone and dialed the number listed on the Comrade Real Estate website. After a few minutes her eyebrows crinkled. “It’s disconnected.”

  Logan leaned over Renee’s shoulder to examine the website. “Is it my imagination or is this the most generic-looking real estate website I’ve ever seen?”

  “You’re right.” Quinn wrinkled her nose.

  After a few clicks around the site they’d learned nothing new about Comrade Real Estate. There were a few headshots of the agents with general bios, but the only number listed was the disconnected one.

  “I feel like I’ve seen this guy before,” Quinn said, pointing at Richard James’s photo. “He looks so familiar.”

  Renee dragged the image into a search bar and the man’s face popped up several times with different expressions. “It’s a stock photo. I recognize him because we used his photo on one of our line management guides.”

  Rhys shook his head. “Why would they have a stock photo on their website?”

  “Check the other images.” A sinking feeling settled like a stone in the pit of Logan’s stomach.

  Sure enough, the other two images also appeared to have been sourced from the same stock image site.

  “This doesn’t smell good, boss,” Quinn said to Rhys with a shake of her head. “Something’s not right.”

  “Okay, let’s not panic.” Logan held up his hands and drew a long breath so he didn’t Hulk-smash a hand through the wall. “Quinn, you check the website out further and see if there’s anything else funky about it. Rhys, try tracking Addi’s cell phone. And find Aiden and tell him to locate Michael Zetta. Renee, call Addison every few minutes until she picks up.”

  Everyone went their separate ways. Logan stalked into his office, barely able to suppress the rising fear that churned like foamy black waves in his stomach. As calm as he might appear on the outside, on the inside he was a mess.

  Addison was in danger and it was because of him. Because he’d kept her out of the loop. Because he hadn’t listened to what she wanted.

  He s
lammed his fist onto his desk and relished the pain as it ricocheted up his arm. “Fucking dammit!”

  “Is everything okay?” Emily poked her head into his office, her young face creased with concern. She mustn’t have run into Renee yet.

  “Addison’s missing.” He ground the words out, the admission carving pain into his chest. “We’re trying to find her.”

  “Missing?” Emily bit her lip. “How do you know that?”

  “She’s gone off to meet someone from what appears to be a fake company, and she’s not answering her phone.” He tried to compose himself, but quieting the noise in his head seemed impossible.

  If he lost her now...

  “I’m sure she’s fine,” Emily said. “Maybe she wanted some time to herself. She might have gone shopping.”

  That showed how little Emily knew about Addison. She put her work before everything, which was why he was still reeling from her news that she wanted to strike out on her own.

  Before he could respond, his desk phone rang. The screen flashed up “Rhys Glover, IT Dept.” “Yes?”

  “I’ve got you on speaker,” Rhys said. “Quinn’s here. Uh...we have some information.”

  “Then spit it out,” he growled. With his free hand he shooed Emily out of his office, not even caring how much of a prick he must seem.

  Nothing mattered more than finding Addison as soon as possible.

  “We can’t track her phone. It looks like it’s been turned off or at the very least disconnected from the internet, so there’s no location data being sent,” Rhys said.

  After a short pause a throat cleared on the other end of the line. “And the IP address for the Comrade Real Estate domain registration matches the one we’ve been tracking for Michael Zetta,” Quinn said.

  “Christ!” he roared. “I thought we were supposed to have eyes on that bastard.”