by Alexia Adams
He reached out and wiped a spot of sauce off her cheek with his thumb then popped it in his mouth. She’d obviously gone beyond exhaustion and was now hallucinating because she felt as though she’d just been kissed.
She drew in a ragged breath. “I think I’d better stick with accounting.”
“Too late now, darling.” He put his arm around her waist and led her out of the tiny shop.
“I guess if I’m pretending to be your girlfriend, my first job in the morning will be to visit a pet store and get a small dog,” she said a few minutes later as he drove.
“Don’t. You. Dare.”
She laughed, and he missed another gear change. His mechanic must be on retainer. “Relax. I’m a Kat, remember. Dogs aren’t my thing.”
His eyes caressed her once more, the heat in them when they reached her face made her shiver. “What about wolves?”
…
Wolfe sipped a whiskey and stared out the window at the London skyline. It was after one a.m., but he couldn’t sleep. Kat was ten floors below, probably tucked up in bed. She’d looked exhausted and had started swaying by the time he’d checked her into the hotel. After seeing her safely to her room, he’d retreated with a promise to meet her at lunch tomorrow to start the charade.
Kat pretending to be his girlfriend offered him a chance to observe her actions closely. She wouldn’t have access to his systems unless he was with her. Ever since Paulina, he was extra wary about letting anyone too close to vital information. At least keeping Kat nearby would be no hardship; she was entertaining and undeniably beautiful. The next few days might be more pleasant than he first imagined. So why did his gut tell him this was one of the worst ideas he’d ever had?
He usually made a decision and dealt with the consequences. Second thoughts were for losers.
His phone rang, pulling him from his uncharacteristic unease. Simon Lamont. Good thing his former classmate was halfway around the world, or Wolfe would’ve had him in a headlock for not warning him about his new cyber security expert.
“I take it from your message that Kat’s arrived,” Simon began without greeting.
“You could have told me she was wood-inducing gorgeous,” Wolfe replied.
“I didn’t notice. I’ve only got eyes for Helen now.”
“Bollocks. You’re married, not dead. What’s her story anyway?” It irked the hell out of him that Kat seemed to know everything about him while she was a complete mystery. Being in the dark was no fun, unless both parties were naked.
“Don’t know. Why? What’s the problem?”
“She doesn’t look like a computer whiz.”
“Liam only hires the best, so I can guarantee that she’s an expert. You of all people should know looks are deceiving.”
His hand fisted automatically. Didn’t he know it? Perfect-looking families rarely were. “Yeah. Well, I’ll be able to keep a close eye on her, because she’s going to pretend to be my girlfriend while working undercover.”
Simon whistled. “Good luck with that, mate. She doesn’t seem your usual type. That woman has a brain.”
“How do you know my usual type?” Simon and Wolfe had been at boarding school together, but unlike Simon, Wolfe hadn’t carried on to university. Instead, he’d traveled the world and learned his trade from the ground up.
“Helen loves trashy celebrity mags, and you feature quite prominently in them, usually with a blonde on your arm.”
“Well, this is only temporary. Kat thinks she can have the bad code cleared and the source tracked within a week.”
Again Simon laughed. “A week, huh? Take it from me, a lot can happen in a short time. I went from a man intent on buying up a company to blissfully married for life. Speaking of which, it’s five o’clock. Time to wrap up and get home to my wife.”
“Five o’clock? You part-time now?”
“Ha. Ha. I’ll call you next week and see how your work schedule is holding up,” Simon said.
“You do that.”
As Wolfe ended the call he glanced again at the skyline, but all he saw were Kat’s eyes lit with laughter. Heat radiated throughout his body. He really should get to bed. He had several meetings tomorrow, and he still hadn’t finalized a design for the competition to obtain the royal commission from Crown Prince Adjmani of the United Arab Emirates. He’d tried several prototypes, but none of them seemed special enough.
The recently crowned prince wasn’t interested in competing for the world’s tallest building or most original architecture. He was moving the Arab royal rivalry to gemstones. One jewelry designer would have the opportunity to set his family’s entire gem collection which would then be put on display in a specially built center. The exhibition plans Wolfe had seen would make the Tower of London’s display of the UK Crown Jewels look like baubles in a high-street jewelry store. In addition, after a year, a rotating selection of pieces would go on a global tour lasting five years with the designer’s name prominently featured. When Wolfe got the job to set the gemstones, no one would forget him ever again.
As he put his now-empty glass on the side table, his eyes landed on his sketchbook buried under several volumes on gem mining. He’d been using a computer to design for so long he’d missed the feel of pencils as he drew and shaded. Grabbing the pad and colors, he flopped onto the sofa and closed his eyes for a minute, imagining the jewels he’d put on Kat. The next thing he knew it was three a.m. and he had four collections of earrings, necklaces, bracelets, and even a tiara, although he was pretty sure Kat would turn her nose up at the thought of wearing a crown. He could barely wait to get to the office tomorrow and select gems for the potential settings.
Worse was the anticipation of his lunch date with Kat.
He was going to need more than just Simon’s luck to get him through the week.
Chapter Two
Kat juggled her laptop, lunch for two in a plastic bag, and a cardboard tray with three coffees as she tried to press the elevator button to take her to the twenty-first floor.
“May I help you?” a suave man wearing an exquisitely cut suit asked. She glanced up to see the chief operating officer of Wolfe’s company next to her. His blond hair was swept back off his forehead, a dimple in his right cheek as he smiled. His blue eyes hadn’t seemed that beady in the photos she’d seen of him. Or maybe it was because he was looking at her like he hadn’t eaten in days and she was a filet mignon.
“Can you press the button for the twenty-first floor, please?” She pretended not to know who he was.
“What a coincidence, I’m headed there as well. Can I hope you’re the new temp in our accounting department?” His leer dropped a notch but was still evident. “I’m Harry Coates, the COO of Wolfe PLC.”
“Pleased to meet you. I’d shake your hand, but…”
“Here, let me help you,” he said and tried to take her laptop bag. Not in this lifetime.
“It’s okay, I’ve got it all balanced. If you take something, I’m likely to drop the whole lot. I’m Kat, and I’m not a temp. I’m here to see my boyfriend.”
He took a step back. “Your boyfriend?” She could almost see his brain running through the HR roster, trying to figure out which unattached male she could be on her way to see.
She faked a girly giggle. “Well, I’m not sure if I can call him that yet. We met a couple weeks back in Vancouver. I’m visiting London for a few days and thought I’d look him up. His name is Remington Wolfe.”
“You’re Wolfe’s girlfriend?” His eyes widened, and he retreated another foot. Thank God she and Wolfe had sorted out their backstory last night on their way from the kebab shop to the hotel.
“Oh, you know him?” She upped the amps on her smile.
“Yes, for a long time. I’m surprised he hasn’t mentioned you.”
Damn, was this the longest elevator ride ever, or what? Two more floors. “As I said, we barely had twenty-four hours together in Vancouver. He’d probably forgotten all about me until I called him last ni
ght, asking if he’d like to meet for lunch.”
“I doubt he forgot you. You’re not a woman who’s easy to forget.”
The irony of his statement startled a laugh out of her. She’d spent eight years ghosting in and out of people’s lives, trying her best to be invisible. Finally, she could be herself, well, her reinvented self, and here she was playing a part again.
“Thanks, I think.” The elevator doors slid open, revealing plush, navy-blue carpet and a bright reception area. A few pieces of abstract art decorated the walls, and a display of white orchids graced the table between two robin’s-egg-blue wingback chairs. Understated elegance with a hint of old-world money. Nice.
“Evelyn, this is Kat, a friend of Wolfe’s,” Harry said to the receptionist. “I’m taking her through to his office.”
The receptionist nodded then went back to doing something on her phone. Harry used his key card to go through three layers of secured doors.
“Wow, this place is like Fort Knox,” Kat said as he finally opened a fourth door onto another small reception area.
“We like to be secure. Wolfe’s office is this way. Are you sure I can’t help you with anything?”
The arm with the coffees was starting to lose feeling, but “never admit a weakness” had been drummed into her from infancy, so she forced a smile. “No, I’m good. Just a bit excited to see Wolfe.”
At the end of the corridor they arrived at a large vestibule. The floor-to-ceiling windows had been tinted to let in the optimum amount of light. London’s skyline was dramatic with patches of angry black clouds beginning to obliterate the hazy blue sky. The woman sitting behind the large oak desk lifted her gaze and speared Kat through. Not much got by her, Kat presumed. Thankfully, Margaret-Mary was in on the ruse. Although, from the downward curve of her lips, Kat should definitely have gone with her first instinct to bring the woman a bottle of whiskey and not a coffee.
“And who are you bringing back here to the inner sanctum of his most holiness, Harry?” Her lilting Irish accent brought a smile to Kat’s face.
“Wolfe’s new girlfriend,” Harry announced, perhaps a little too loudly, as Kat then heard several chairs being flung back and a half dozen doors creak open.
“Hi, I’m Kat. I brought you a coffee.”
“Well, isn’t that sweet of you. How do you know what I like?”
Not the time to say she’d hacked into the woman’s finances and discovered that every morning she made a purchase at the same café. All she’d had to do was ask the barista. “I met Wolfe at a coffee shop, and when he heard my order, he commented that his secretary has her coffee the same. I thought any man who remembers what his secretary likes to drink can’t be all bad.”
Margaret-Mary took the cup Kat offered with a smile. “Shame you’d not met him in a bar. He’s been more bear than wolf today. I could use a drink.”
“I brought him a coffee as well, so maybe that’ll brighten his mood.”
“Won’t be the coffee that’ll make him smile.” The secretary’s eyes raked Kat again. “Nice suit.”
“Thanks.” Kat smoothed a gloved hand down her charcoal skirt. The jacket had a feminine ruffle on one lapel with a discreet camisole underneath; it looked like she wasn’t wearing a top. The all-over impression was classic and sexy. At least that’s what she’d been aiming for. All of Wolfe’s previous girlfriends had been old-money heiress types. She’d tried to fit the mold. No one would believe he was interested in a street rat who’d never even finished high school.
Harry had already knocked on Wolfe’s door, so when she turned around, her fake boyfriend lounged in the doorway, his shoulder against the frame. How could he look even larger than last night? His black suit with a very subtle grayish-blue pinstripe emphasized his broad chest and long legs. The man exuded power; it was hard to remember he was an artist underneath all that business attire. Then again most people wouldn’t peg her for a hacker, either.
“I thought we were going to meet at the restaurant downstairs,” he said by way of greeting. Without asking, he relieved her of the cardboard coffee holder and the plastic bag with the sandwiches. At least he’d learned already not to try and take her computer from her.
“Yes, but I kept you awake late last night, and I thought if I brought lunch, then you wouldn’t lose so much time away from your desk, and I might be able to persuade you to take me for dinner.”
“By all means, then, come in and begin persuading. Harry, can we move our meeting to two o’clock?” Wolfe moved to the side so she could enter his office, his citrusy cologne filling her nose as she walked past.
“Yeah, sure,” Harry replied. She didn’t need to turn around to know he was staring at her ass.
With the door in his hand, ready to close it, Wolfe addressed his secretary, “Hold my calls, Margaret-Mary. In fact, if you want to take an extended lunch break, today would be a good day.”
“Oh, I like this one already,” his secretary said just before the door shut.
He leaned against the now-closed portal, her only avenue of escape. Why was she thinking of running? It was perfectly safe. She was here to do a job. Sure, it included a little playacting, but now that they were alone, she could get down to business.
Opening up her bag, she took her laptop out and put it on his desk. As she powered it up, she glanced at Wolfe, still standing by the door holding the coffee and sandwiches.
“What’s your password?”
“Not so fast. First, I want to know all about you.”
…
Wolfe narrowed his eyes as Kat peeled off her gloves then disconnected the network cable from his computer. It took all of his self-control not to pull her into his arms and kiss her, undo the buttons of her jacket, and discover what lay beneath, if anything. God, she was sexy. But he wasn’t about to let her have unlimited access to his systems without a few answers.
“We don’t have time for this. Didn’t Simon confirm my identity last night?” She plugged the cable into her own laptop then sat on his chair and began to type.
“Ten minutes isn’t going to make a difference.” He strode over to the desk, put down the coffees, and shut the lid on her laptop.
Her gaze scorched him. “Touch my computer again, and it’ll be the last thing you do.”
“Ten questions. Answer them and you’re free to poke your gorgeous nose in all my programs.”
The blaze in her eyes could’ve boiled his coffee. “I’m here to help. Getting to know me isn’t part of the deal.”
“It is if you’re pretending to be my girlfriend. I should know at least a little about you. This was your idea, after all.”
She tilted her head to one side as though contemplating his words. “Five questions, and if I don’t like one, I don’t have to answer, and you move on to the next.”
He stared at her for a moment. She was only the second woman he’d known who didn’t want to talk about herself. The first, Paulina, had turned out to be a fledgling member of the Pink Panther Gang and had used her connection with him to learn about diamond shipment routes and security measures. He’d never make that mistake again. Kat’s reticence increased his distrust. “Where were you born?”
“St. Petersburg.” No hesitation. Either a practiced lie or the truth.
“Florida?”
“It’s the only one I know in America.”
“Do you still have family there?”
She stared over his shoulder. When her gaze met his again, her eyes were hard. “No. At least I don’t think so. My father was an alcoholic, and I haven’t seen him in years. I have no idea if he’s still alive. My mother left us when I was fourteen. I haven’t seen her, or my little sister, since then.”
“Why didn’t she take you as well?”
She blinked several times. Obviously he’d hit a nerve. “Next question.”
Time to backtrack. “You live in San Francisco now?”
“Yes. The tech opportunities are better there.”
“W
hen was your last serious relationship?” Seemed the kind of thing a pretend boyfriend should know. The fact that it hadn’t been on his initial list of ten, never mind the top-five points of inquiry, didn’t seem to matter at the moment.
“That depends on how you define serious. If you mean the last time I thought I was in love, probably six years ago. If you mean have I ever lived with a man or contemplated marriage, then the answer is never.”
“Don’t you date?” Damn, that one just slipped out.
“That’s your fifth question?” She smiled, and he dragged in a deep breath to relieve the tingle in his chest. The pain he’d inflicted by digging into her family history seemed to have receded. At least her lips were no longer a tight line.
“Fourth. That was only four questions.”
“Nope, you asked where I was born, then confirmed it was in Florida, then asked about my family, my romantic relationships, and now my social life.” She raised a finger as she enumerated each question. Five in total.
“The Florida question doesn’t count.”
She shrugged. “To answer your fifth question, I date occasionally. I usually work from six p.m. to three a.m., so that tends to rule out conventional dating opportunities.” Her gaze caught his and held it, her voice dropped suggestively. “However, I have been known to hook up with people while away at conventions or on layovers.” She moved around the desk and slid a hand up his lapel into his hair. “Men who I meet in coffee lines and then can’t forget, so I fly halfway around the world for a chance to spend a little more time with them.” As she finished her sentence, her lips were a hair’s breadth from his. And his body was harder than his desk.
Rather than complete the kiss, she stepped away, ran her hands down the sides of her tight skirt, and moved back to her computer. Her voice was only slightly husky when she spoke again. “Your password? I can hack in, but it will take me longer and, provided your firewall is decent, flag your IT department that I’m in the system.”
“My IT services are outsourced, and I told them to stand down for the next little while as I ran some simulations on my systems, so they’re not monitoring them at the moment.”