by Addison Fox
She enjoyed the light flush that flooded her chest at his comment before turning toward him with a breezy smile. “I learned young and did plenty of lying with it to get out of homework at my oh-so-French private school.”
“And here I thought you were the proverbial good girl. Am I now to understand you might have a few less than saintlike urges underneath that pristine exterior?”
Just like with the naked comment, she couldn’t quite hold back the urge to bait him. The air around both of them had been charged since their kiss in the kitchen—hell, it had been charged from the moment they’d met—and Abby was rapidly growing tired of resisting the dance.
She wanted this man and there were fewer and fewer reasons to stay away.
Pushing thoughts of what might still be between them, she kept up the breezy tone as they walked up the Dufresnes’ front steps. “You have no idea, Mr. Steele.”
Campbell’s hand snaked out toward her waist as he pulled her close. “Try me.”
Triumph blossomed in her veins at his touch, while a good old-fashioned dose of feminine surprise gripped her. And here she thought she had the upper hand.
It was encouraging to know Campbell had more than a few moves of his own.
“You’re a fascinating woman.” His lips pressed to her ear before he released her to climb the front stoop of the house.
“Thank you.” Abby let out a small discreet cough, willing her racing pulse to slow before she lifted the large brass knocker on the front door.
She could do this. Correction, McBane.
They could do this.
After she dropped the brass knocker, Campbell turned toward her, his conversational tone a far cry from the sexual innuendo of the past few moments. “Why’d you pick this house? It’s a fifty-fifty chance.”
“Not really. This one was the second one hit.”
“Meaning?”
“In the event our con man practiced on the first house, he likely got it right with this one.”
“I stand corrected.”
“Corrected of what?”
“Fascinating is far too tame a word for you. So is interesting, captivating, enchanting, charming and tantalizing.”
“Aren’t you quite the thesaurus?” Abby heard the thud of footsteps on the other side of the door, but couldn’t hold back her curiosity. “What would you call me, then?”
“Besides infuriating, headstrong and opinionated?”
He neatly sideswiped her swat with the leather folder. “That’s just mean and undignified.”
“Of which you are neither. No, my dear. You’re something else entirely.”
“What’s that?”
He leaned over and pressed his lips to her ear. A light shiver gripped her shoulders as his tongue lightly traced the shell. “You’re enthralling. Absolutely, utterly enthralling.”
The majordomo chose that moment to open the door and Campbell had already straightened to his full height, his movements so smooth and immediate she’d never have known he’d even leaned into her if she hadn’t felt his tempting presence for herself.
“Mademoiselle. What is the purpose of your call?”
Abby launched into rapid French, her gaze never leaving the majordomo as she waved her leather file folder and the wine for emphasis.
Even so, a small nerve ticked in the back of her mind.
Campbell Steele was really too smart for his own good. And he’d definitely evened the score since she’d mentioned the word naked.
The majordomo turned and gestured with a hand over his shoulder that they should follow and she mentally added goofy to Campbell’s list of attributes when he wiggled his eyebrows.
Which also had a small giggle erupting in her throat that she diligently coughed back.
Damn the man and his wiggling eyebrows and come-hither eyes and big smile and broad shoulders. And damn his ability to make her forget everything but the insane desire to crawl into his arms.
Since the majordomo deposited them in a small parlor off the front hallway, Abby tried to focus on the lushly appointed room and off the distractions of her hormones.
“I only caught about four words in that entire exchange, but from your tone I got haughty frustration, near-weepy desperation and a strange sort of embarrassment.”
She turned toward Campbell in relief. “Excellent. That was my goal.”
“Intimidate him, get him to take pity on you and flash the expensive wine to back up you are who you say you are and he’d be a fool to ignore your needs.”
“Bingo.”
“Well played.”
“We’re not upstairs yet.”
Before he could reply, the sound of clicking heels and muted voices echoed from outside the door. Abby stood as the diplomat’s new trophy wife, Celine, came into the room. Her smile was reserved yet welcoming and Abby got the quick sense the woman was sharper than she might have originally given her credit for.
She’d do well to keep that in mind.
After their brief introduction, Abby once again launched into a virtual torrent of words, willing the woman to understand her desperation as she laid it on thick.
The upcoming board meeting scheduled to start the next day that had serious implications for her company.
Before that had even sunk in, she moved straight into the desperate need to run a line into her house for a vague set of technology needs—Abby made sure she threw in words like algorithm, satellite optimization and a few vague references to McBane’s stock price—as the woman’s bright eyes went from attentive to glazed over.
She then went in for the kill by pointing at Campbell and venting her frustration with her very sexy yet lackadaisical tech guy who couldn’t seem to figure out what was needed.
Celine perked up at the reference to the “sexy tech guy,” her gaze roving appreciatively over Campbell. It took every ounce of Abby’s self-control not to laugh at the young woman’s blatantly carnal look but was rewarded for her restraint when Celine graciously took the bottle of wine and gestured for them to head on up the main stairs and “do what they needed to do.”
Three stories later, she and Campbell roamed the top floor hallway. The layout was different from her home, but the same architectural style was in evidence as they started on the first room at the top of the stairs. They’d been given directions to the attic, but a quick look in each room ensured they wouldn’t miss anything.
“She bought it.” His voice was low but Abby didn’t miss the respect she heard underneath the words as he opened a closet.
“I laid it on pretty thick, but it was my last argument that seemed to do the trick.”
They walked on to the next room, Campbell’s gaze following the lines of the ceiling. “Which was?”
“I told her my tech guy was sexy yet clueless and couldn’t seem to figure anything out. She watched your ass the entire walk out of the room.”
His next words were strangled as they moved on to yet another room. “I feel so cheap and used.”
“Well, we all make sacrifices.”
“Right.” He rubbed at his neck, the light flush there giving away his discomfort before he tossed an accusing gaze toward her. “What were yours?”
“I made sure that wine bottle was level with my cleavage the entire time I talked with the majordomo.”
Campbell grabbed her arm and pulled her back into the hallway and on to the next room. “Well, well, aren’t we a couple of cheap operatives.”
“If we find what we’re looking for, you won’t see me complain.”
They made it to the last door and, as described, the access to the attic was at the south end of the room. As Campbell pulled open the door, Abby’s pulse kicked up another notch.
It wasn’t until that moment—faced with the possibility the end of this ordeal might soon be put behind her—that she allowed a sense of relief to fill her.
If they could just find whatever the intruder left behind, they could get some sort of ID on it, Campbell could ele
ctronically fingerprint their ghost and she could go back to living her life.
Without Campbell Steele in it.
If that thought gave her a moment’s pause, she pushed it away. This wasn’t about Campbell or even her inconvenient attraction to him.
This was about getting her life back.
“Abby?”
She glanced up into that face that had become both a source of comfort and increasing anxiety before taking his outstretched hand.
“Be careful on these steps. They’re narrow and steep.”
They climbed to the top, both of them carefully planting their feet, before they crossed the threshold to a large attic that ran almost the entire length of the house.
They’d barely cleared the landing when Campbell came to a hard stop in front of her, his gaze directed toward the top of the far wall, in the darkest part of the attic. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
“What is it?”
“T-Bone had it right, after all. See that?” He pointed toward a small black spot, high on the wall, before reaching for her hand and dragging her toward it.
As she got closer, the small black piece registered with the force of a battering ram.
“I don’t believe it.” She exhaled the words on a heavy whisper as the bottom fell out of her stomach.
“What is it?”
“That’s mine. Ours.” She shook her head. “It’s a McBane prototype. We’ve been working on it for three years. I wrote the damn patent on it myself.”
Chapter 11
“You did what?”
If his words sounded half as inane as he felt Campbell wouldn’t have been surprised.
Abby was being spied on with a McBane device? And her own damn prototype to boot.
“It’s my invention. My patent.” Abby dropped her hands to her waist and bent over as if trying to catch her breath. “I do not believe this.”
Campbell pulled out his phone and snapped a few pictures. “Tell me what we’re up against, will you?”
The words snapped her back to attention and she stood to her full height as she began to list off the capabilities of the device. “Assuming he hasn’t made any modifications to it, it’s a remote server interface that doesn’t require actual connection with the server.”
“You can tap in remotely? From anywhere?”
“You’ve got to be in a specific range, but basically. Yes.”
Campbell thought of every spy movie he’d seen in the past five years and the proverbial “server room scene” where the white hats went to key into the secured technology.
And she’d figured out a way to do it remotely.
“Does it work?”
“Sometimes. Depends on the firewalls. The range.”
“Are we in range here?”
Her grim expression told him all he needed to know. “This is more than close enough to tap in.”
He shook his head, unable to believe what she was saying. “So you’ve created a bug? Only instead of listening to conversations, you’re spying on technology. Is that what you’re telling me?”
“It’s not that simple, Campbell.”
“Well, it’s not that freaking complicated, either. Is McBane responsible for crafting a technological device that can spy on other equipment?”
“Yes.”
“How could you do this, Abby?”
“It was a business decision and it was an outcome of one of our government contracts.”
“So you were well paid to create subterfuge via high-tech gadgets.” He ran distracted fingers through his hair, tugging on the ends. “This is bad. Even for the government.”
Her gaze was bleak as she stared at him. “You know as well as I do technological advances are the way of the world. And it’s got a number of uses beyond the nefarious place you’ve leaped to.”
“It’s not right.”
“What do you think this is, Campbell? A game? Satellite technology isn’t just used to power your damn cell phone. It runs every major military initiative in the world and there are times when we’re not only the good guys, we’re the only guys in the game.”
All the warmth leached from his body at her ready acquiescence and defense of her choices.
He’d trusted her. Had been adamant about protecting her. And to find this?
Whatever belief he’d carried for her vanished, his faith in her right along with it. Without warning, he heard her comments from the day before, echoing in the back of his mind.
“I’m not sure you’re right about the good guys.”
“You don’t agree?”
“Let’s just say my experiences have clearly been different than yours.”
“Come now, Abby. You have to have had a few experiences that reinforce good choices.”
“I have. I just don’t think good always triumphs. I think there are a lot of bad people in this world who come out on top, over and over again.”
It broke his heart to think she was one of them.
* * *
Abby ignored the bleak expression that rode Campbell’s face. She wouldn’t think of that now.
Wouldn’t think of the disappointment that filled his gaze or the very high wall that had materialized between them despite the fact they still stood less than a foot apart.
No, instead she had to focus on one simple fact. Where she’d been looking for a singular threat tied solely to her, the fact this technology had gone missing indicated something else.
The nameless, faceless threat was about McBane and its technology.
Another thought followed on its heels.
All of their technology developments went through strict protocols and management yet she didn’t even know this device was missing. How could it have escaped the research and development team that the device had vanished?
Until the answer jingled loud and clear in the back of her mind.
Stef.
Abby moved forward and lifted the device from the wall. Assuming it was running as designed, moving it wouldn’t trigger any awareness on the part of the person who’d put it there.
It would only register if the device was made inactive.
“Can we destroy it?”
“Not if you don’t want to tip your hand.” Abby refused to look at Campbell, instead, she tucked the small piece—no larger than a domino—into the slim pocket of her skirt. “Let’s go.”
“So if we can’t destroy it, that means it’s still transmitting information.”
“Yes.” She accidentally moved into his space as she reached for the leather notebook she’d set on an abandoned chair. The move was unintended, but the moment their bodies came into contact she felt the heat that still arced between them. It traveled the length of her body, coalescing in her stomach in a hard tight ball.
Whatever she’d accepted, even anticipated, on the walk over—that she would like to take things with Campbell to the next level—vanished as if it had never been.
And from the look in his eyes, all he wanted was to get away from her as fast as he could possibly move.
* * *
Campbell stared at the innocuous-enough-looking device as he barked out orders to T-Bone. The man had him on speaker and he could hear his sister’s voice in the background.
“She did what?”
Campbell relayed the full story to Kensington, placing particular emphasis on McBane’s new technological developments.
“Okay.” Kenzi’s sigh drifted through the phone and he heard her flip it off of speaker, the tinny echo vanishing as her voice snapped through the connection. “I need you to stop speaking geek for a minute and explain what really has you upset.”
“She’s created spy technology, Kensington. Your sweet innocent friend has created a device that can remotely monitor technology infrastructure and use that to the remote party’s advantage.”
“Do you not have the skill to do that to any computer system in the world?”
His sister’s question caught him up short and he stumbled fo
r a moment as he tried to come up with an answer.
“I’m serious, Campbell. Isn’t that something you can do? I realize it takes time, but you’re fully capable of penetrating a computer system that doesn’t belong to you.”
“Yes.”
“How often do you do that?”
“Not nearly as often as you seem to think I do.” Campbell knew his youthful escapades had left his entire family with the illusion he got his kicks off of running through systems that weren’t his, but nothing could be further from the truth.
Yes, he hacked when he needed to complete a job, but that was it.
“What’s your point?”
“Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you do it. Talk to her and tell her your concerns. There may be a very valid reason they’ve designed this technology.”
The mad that had carried him back to Abby’s house on a self-righteous cloud vanished. “I thought I was the reasonable one.”
“You are. You’re just too deep in this to see the forest for the trees.”
“Gee. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. And one more thing.” He waited without saying anything further. “Nothing is black-and-white. You know that.”
“Of course. If things were black-and-white we wouldn’t have jobs.”
“Well said, my brother. Well said.”
They said their goodbyes and Campbell shoved his phone back in his pocket, his sister’s calm, rational thoughts a subtle irritation under the skin. Even if they were also a deep source of his pride and love for her.
Kensington knew people. She understood what made them tick and she had a clever way of presenting two sides of an argument so you were forced to think through your own personal, pigheaded viewpoints.
Had he been too hard on Abby?
The memory of her pale skin and grim features as they stood in her neighbors’ attic suggested he had been.
* * *
Abby tried to focus on the caterer’s words but had to ask the woman to repeat herself three times. She wished she could excuse her malaise on the woman’s rapid French, but Abby knew full well the responsibility lay elsewhere.
The caterer had waylaid her the moment she and Campbell had arrived back from what Abby had mentally dubbed an apocalyptic disaster and all she wanted to do was escape.