“You know how I feel about that asshole.” Her lip curled involuntarily as she pointed toward Wes Brennan’s back, the pompous dick who’d caught her hacking the Whitfield Industries firewall. “And I thought we decided it would be best if Jesse didn’t know I existed.”
“We changed our minds,” Max said, wryly.
“The less we’re seen together, the fewer questions come up.”
“A rule you don’t seem to mind breaking whenever it suits you.”
The reference to the last time they’d met up made her mouth pull up at the corner. “You’re just testy because I lifted your wallet and your watch.”
Max remained stoic.
“I gave them both back! And for the record, I only came by because I was trying to help you.”
“And now you can help me again.” Max swept a gallant hand toward his office door. “After you.”
AJ glanced at her phone. Fourteen minutes and thirteen seconds. “Fine. But you’d better keep your security dogs on a leash.”
AJ didn’t wait for Max to open the door for her, just pulled it out of her way and walked inside, standing next to the only empty visitor chair rather than sitting beside her enemy.
The Chief Dickwad of Soteria Security glanced up at her, but he didn’t betray emotion one way or the other at seeing her. “AJ.”
Wes hadn’t been thrilled when Max had brought her on board instead of turning her in. She could still hear the blistering tirade he’d unleashed while trying to convince Max to hand her over to the feds.
She’s got skills, but she’s impulsive. Lets her ego get in the way of her work. That’s how I caught her. She’s talented, yeah, but she’s fucking sloppy, and sloppy gets you caught. If you’re not careful, you’re going to end up bailing her out instead of the other way around. You need a hacker, not a hack.
She squeezed her hand around the phone in her pocket, hating that she’d proved the asshole right last night with her little Robin Capucha stunt. Pure ego. It lent venom to her greeting. “Wesley. Other guy.”
The VP of Soteria stood, extending a hand and a big smile. “Jesse Hastings.”
His cheerfulness was off-putting, so AJ ignored his outstretched hand and gave him a cool nod instead. Then she pulled the visitor chair farther away from Wes and flopped into it before she had to endure the further humiliation of having Max order her to sit.
Jesse and Max also took their seats, and after a dramatic pause, Max placed a small round disc on his desk. It was silver and looked like a miniature version of something a gladiator might carry into battle.
“What is that?” The question was only for show. Because she knew.
Cybercore’s tech was legendary. Anyone who considered themselves anyone in the underground tech world kept a careful eye on what Liam Kearney had up his sleeve at any given time. Combined with her affiliation with his biggest business rival, yeah, she knew a thing or two about The Shield, Cybercore’s competing entry into the digital cryptocurrency payment ring. The one that was in direct competition with Whitfield Industries’ SecurePay app, which Max had intended to launch a month ago. Until he’d discovered someone had hacked him.
“I have a source who provided me with a knockoff version of Cybercore’s upcoming product.”
Oh, shit. Liam was not going to be happy about that. He hadn’t even launched yet.
“As it has just been disclosed to me that Cybercore is in talks with Soteria Security about using one of their products, I feel more comfortable having this piece of evidence examined by a more neutral party.”
“Oh. Ohhhhh.” AJ grinned and sat up straighter as Max’s intentions became clear. This wasn’t about her at all. He wanted his guard dogs to know they were on notice. “And suddenly the reason for my presence at this very special Sunday morning meeting makes total sense,” she gloated. All hail Max’s gift for power moves.
AJ winced theatrically. “Well, that’s gotta sting, huh, Wes? Having your company’s credibility called into question before watching your multimillion-dollar client hire a sloppy, impulsive hack to double-check your work?” She grinned, crossing her arms over her chest. Childish? Maybe. But it was fucking liberating, so she ignored Max’s warning glance and reveled in the moment. The only thing that would have made it a little better was if Wes had shown any reaction to her taunt at all.
Freakin’ robot.
The other half of Soteria Security wasn’t looking nearly as calm and collected.
“I really don’t think this is a precaution that needs to be taken, Max.” Jesse sat forward in his chair. “Cybercore is interested in installing the direct-to-market virus protection we’re releasing later this year. The division is completely separate from the private cybersecurity role we play here at Whitfield Industries. In fact, we only disclosed this information as a courtesy. And furthermore...”
Man, this Jesse sure could drone on.
It felt like forever had passed when her phone vibrated in her pocket. She pounced on it.
Thirty seconds.
Twenty-nine seconds.
It wasn’t like she was excited to see Liam again or anything.
Twenty-three seconds.
Twenty-two seconds.
This was strictly professional curiosity. And appreciation for another tech guru’s work.
Seventeen seconds.
Sixteen seconds.
Besides, she’d always loved a good mystery. Of course she wanted to know what the countdown was all about. Who wouldn’t?
Eleven seconds.
Ten seconds.
It didn’t mean Liam fascinated her. She just had a healthy appreciation for innovation.
Seven seconds.
Six seconds.
AJ’s skin tingled as the clock ran out.
Three...two...one.
The black screen turned to a blur of giant pixels, and she didn’t blink as she watched the image zoom out until they cleared into a Google map with a pin dropped at the Port of Los Angeles and the words “We leave at noon.”
Crap. She had to get to San Pedro. Traffic better not suck. AJ swiped into her ride-share app and booked a car. Thankfully it was only five minutes away.
“Are we keeping you from something important, AJ?”
Max’s voice startled her, and she looked up to find all three men staring at her. “Huh? Oh. Yes, actually.” She stood up and shoved her phone back in her pocket. “It’s been real, boys, but I gotta go. You can finish this little dick-measuring ceremony without me, right?” She reached across the desk to grab the fake Shield off Max’s desk. “I’ll check this out and be in touch, boss.”
She ignored Max’s frown and headed for the door, shoving the silver disc into the interior pocket of her leather jacket.
She’d never been on a boat before.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“SIR, YOU HAVE A...VISITOR.”
Liam closed his newspaper and glanced over his shoulder at the unflappable chief steward, decked out in the yacht crew uniform of white polo shirt and navy pants. “Is she armed?”
“Sir?”
Liam adjusted his Ray-Bans against the California sun. “Just a joke, McGee. Show her up.”
“I tried that already. She’s refusing to come aboard.”
Liam ignored the rush of relief that she’d taken the bait. Respected the shit out of the fact that even though she’d come, she wasn’t going to make it easy on him.
Something heady sparked in his veins—lust, yes, but it was more than that. It was the intoxicating thrill of competition, the driving need to earn the respect of a worthy opponent. No one had ever breached his security before, let alone hacked his phone.
Setting the paper on the table, Liam stood and walked over to the starboard railing. “You came.”
At the sound of his voice, she raised her face, and his sharp int
ake of breath surprised him. He hadn’t prepared himself for the sight of her. Black boots, black jeans, black T-shirt, black jacket. So different from the woman who’d crashed his party, and yet exactly like the type of badass who would crash his party.
“Only once,” she countered. “I kind of expected more fireworks, based on your rep, but you do get points for quality.”
“It’s nice to know some people still value craftsmanship.”
Shielding her eyes with her hand, she stared up at him and pulled her phone from her pocket. “Quite a production. Most guys would have just asked for my number.”
“I’m not most guys.” Liam grabbed the railing. “And I thought you might enjoy the novelty of actually being invited.”
“Ha. That burn might have held some weight if you’d programmed something that took me longer than twenty minutes to crack. I could have removed it before my ride dropped me off near my place.”
Liam nodded, a smile playing about his lips. “I knew you wouldn’t.”
“Oh, you did, did you?” She tipped her head to the side.
His shrug was careless, in direct opposition to the tightness in his chest. But he took the risk anyway and said what he was thinking, even though he knew she wouldn’t like it. “Maybe I know you better than you think.”
Her shoulders stiffened and her eyes darted toward land, but she didn’t run.
Liam’s breath came a little easier.
“Well, I obviously don’t know you at all. I would have put money on your evil lair being hidden deep in the bowels of your palatial mansion.”
“I prefer a nicer view than mansion bowels when I’m plotting to take over the world.”
She scuffed the toe of her boot against the dock. “So now that you’ve got me here, what are you going to do with me?”
The question was loaded, and answers whirred in his brain like a flip-book of dirty pictures. “I guess that depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether you’re going to come aboard.”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“Would it sway you one way or the other if I promise to let you play with my tech?” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “I don’t like to brag, but my hardware is considered legendary in some circles.”
Her smile was crooked, pulling higher on the left side, and he wondered how he hadn’t noticed that about her before. “Funnily enough, your hardware is one of the reasons I’m not sure my coming aboard is such a good idea.”
“Tell me another one.”
“How about I barely know you and the Pacific Ocean seems like an excellent method of body disposal?”
He waved it off. “Besides that.”
Her laugh was throaty. Sexy.
Liam pointed at himself. “Have you ever tried to get blood out of white linen? Not worth the hassle.”
“An argument that would hold more weight if I believed for even a second that you did your own laundry.”
Her eyes narrowed, and she stared up at him, not flirtatiously, but contemplatively, and it kicked up his testosterone as he waited to see if she’d deem him worthy.
She jammed her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket, and he wondered briefly how she hadn’t melted into a puddle on the dock in all those layers.
“This is a horrible idea.”
Liam nodded. “Probably. But I’ve won a lot more than I’ve lost by risking it all.” His meteoric rise from kid from Encino to reigning tech god was based on taking chances, doing what no one expected, the things other people didn’t dare.
“Further proof that you and I are two very different people.”
He heard resignation in the cryptic comment, and his stomach dropped at the foreshadowing. He wasn’t surprised when she turned and headed back up the dock, but the fact that she was just going to walk away after everything that had brought them to this point...it pissed him off.
“I didn’t take you for a coward!”
She didn’t look back, just held her middle finger up and kept walking.
Fuck.
Liam banged his palms against the railing and stepped back, raking his hands through his hair. And still it took everything in him to turn away from her retreating form and not watch like a moron until she disappeared into the distance. He wasn’t surprised to find the exacting chief steward standing there with a silver tray piled with food.
“Sir? Shall we be on our way?”
Liam gave a brusque nod, and McGee set the tray on the table before disappearing back down the stairs that led to the lower level.
Moments later, the efficient sounds of the crew preparing for departure drifted up from below.
Shouldn’t have pushed so hard, he lectured himself.
But the program he’d installed on her phone should still be active... She couldn’t have accessed it until the countdown clock played out. And most people would leave the map onscreen until they arrived at their destination.
Liam took a seat and poured himself a coffee while he strategized.
If he sent her another message before she eradicated all traces of his tech from her phone, maybe he could get her to meet him after the—
Several surprised shouts rang out, and Liam stiffened, prepared to go investigate the muffled bang that followed, but then McGee’s affronted, “What do you think you’re doing? You chose not to come aboard!” stopped him short.
Liam was already grinning before he heard the answer.
“I changed my mind. Sue me.”
He relaxed back into his chair. He should have known she’d rather crash a party than accept an invitation. She did things on her own terms. A moment later, a familiar figure in black appeared at the top of the stairwell that led up from below deck.
“I don’t think your yes-man likes me very much.”
“I don’t think he likes me very much, either, if that makes you feel better.”
“Seriously? You’re gonna try to one-up me right now? I just risked my life, and this sweet leather jacket, jumping over a foot and a half of open water.”
“That’s on you.” He shrugged. “The invitation was clear that we were leaving at noon.”
His party crasher walked over and sat down across from him, like she owned the yacht instead of him.
“Newspaper, huh? Really progressive take for a tech magnate.”
Liam resettled his big frame against the chair. “The Sunday Times, for as long as it exists, is a nonnegotiable ritual. It’s important to remember where you come from.”
She helped herself to a piece of pineapple from the fruit plate.
“Before he owned the world, a young Liam cut his business teeth with a paper route that taught him the value of hard work?”
His jaw tightened against his will. “Something like that.”
He made sure the words held no particular inflection, but her gaze sharpened in a way that brought the hairs on the back of his neck to attention.
He thought for a moment that she might follow up, and he was relieved when she dropped the subject and snagged a croissant from the elegant pile of pastries.
She lifted an eyebrow. “Still warm.”
Her eyes widened when she bit into the flaky, buttery dough to find it stuffed with chocolate.
She was perfect in that moment, and the throaty sound of pleasure that escaped went straight to his balls. Once isn’t going to be enough. He’d known it last night. He knew it with bone-deep certainty now.
“What?” She swiped the pad of her thumb against her bottom lip. “Do I have chocolate on my face?”
Liam managed a brief shake of his head, though his focus didn’t wane. He didn’t understand why she affected him like this. She shouldn’t.
She licked her lips, like she didn’t believe him as she dropped the croissant on the plate in front of her.
The move was tinged with the slightest hint of self-consciousness, and the crack in her badass facade intrigued him.
Her eyes searched his face, and Liam kept still, afraid to spook her. Afraid the woman who’d jumped onto his yacht was just as likely to jump right back off and swim to shore if he made the wrong move.
As though she sensed that he’d been admiring the glimmer of vulnerability in her and needed to change the subject, she reached over and grabbed the coffee he’d just poured, and took a large gulp.
“I’ve never been on a boat before.” She looked around. “It’s hotter than I expected. Boats always look really windy on TV.”
“The guest room is fully stocked with stuff if you’d like to change—shorts, dresses, bathing suits.”
“Gross.” She scrunched up her nose. “I’m not wearing the discarded spandex of one of your castoffs.”
Liam sent her a withering look. “They’re all new. I like to have things on hand so that that unprepared yacht guests enjoy their time aboard.”
“Yeah, my bad. This is my first time as a hostage.” She set the mug down and ripped the end off the croissant. “I wasn’t sure of the dress code.”
Liam shot her an unimpressed look. “You’re hardly a hostage. I tried to leave you behind and you jumped on the boat.”
“You commandeered my phone and lured me here with the high-tech version of candy.” She popped the flaky, buttery dough into her mouth, chewing slowly. Almost like she knew he was laser-focused on her mouth. She swallowed and gave a little shrug. “At the very least, you’ve kidnapped me.”
“Again, I think you’re confusing ‘kidnap victim’ with ‘guest.’”
She picked up his coffee. “Ugh. Bor-ring. At least ‘kidnap victim’ has some pizzazz to it.”
“I understand. Better small talk for the next party you crash. Consider yourself kidnapped.”
She took another sip, watching him warily over the rim of the mug until she found the courage to ask the question he’d seen swirling in her eyes.
“How did you know?”
Liam leaned back in his chair. “How did I know what?”
“How did you know I wouldn’t just kill your program?”
Wicked Pleasure Page 5