by Lucy Monroe
Only she didn't feel comfortable doing it in her cubicle, or anywhere else at Kline Tech for that matter.
"Do you have plans for lunch today?"
He'd been studying her and she wondered what he was thinking. He looked so serious and almost sad.
His expression turned regretful. "I'm having lunch with Sandy and then—"
She didn't let him get any further. "You're having lunch withSandy , afterFriday night ?"
She tried to keep her voice down but knew it sounded shrill. She felt shrill. She felt shredded. How could he be thinking about dating her blond friend after Friday, after what he'd just said this morning? She spun away from him, not wanting him to see the distress on her face, not wanting to see the cool distance on his.
His hand brushed the hair up from the nape of her neck and then she felt soft lips pressed to the sensitive spot just below her ear. "It's not a date, sweetheart. It's work. You know what I do. Don't read anything more into it than that. You're the only woman I want right now."
Thatright now sounded ominous, and instead of feeling comforted like she was sure he meant her to be, she felt a cold stone form in the pit of her stomach.
"And if that changes tomorrow? What then?"
She'd never asked those kinds of questions of him before. She'd played their relationship by his rules, but that had left her miserable and desperate. She needed more now. She needed to know if he was hedging his bets, or if he was committed to a real relationship—one that included the prospect of a future.
He forced her chair around until she faced him.
He was squatting in front of her, his gorgeous blue gaze eye level with her own. "It hasn't changed in eighteen months; I sincerely doubt it's going to change tomorrow."
At the reminder that he hadn't had anyone else in all that time, she relaxed a little. "I guess not."
"I know not. If there had been any way to eradicate you from my heart, I would have when you left."
She didn't like hearing that and glared at him.
He shook his head, his expression exasperated. "What do you want me to say? That I enjoyed pining for a woman who left me without a backward glance?"
She reached up and touched the firmness of his jaw. "It wasn't like that."
He closed his eyes and turned until his mouth met the palm of her hand. He placed a soft kiss right in the center and then opened his eyes again. Remembered pain warred with an unnamed emotion in his blue gaze and she wanted to comfort him, but didn't know how.
"I understand a lot better, now that you've told me about Jenny, but I'm still having a hard time accepting that you didn't tell me about her to begin with. I don't know what the future holds for us, honey, but I do know that I don't want to face it without you anymore."
She felt a lump form in her throat at his words. "I would have given anything to hear you talk like this before."
He grimaced. "Yeah, I guess I held my feelings pretty close to my chest."
She wanted to ask him what those feelings had been, but this wasn't the time or the place. She could hear her coworkers going about their business, and any second she and Marcus could be interrupted by someone needing to speak to her. The thought of another employee catching her in such an intimate position with him had her scooting her chair back. He seemed to know what she was thinking and understood because he stood up and stepped away as well.
"I'm sorry about lunch today, honey."
She nodded. "Me too."
"What about tomorrow?"
"But we're having dinner together tomorrow night." And she would have already spoken to Mr. Kline.
"Is there any reason why I can't see you more than once in a day?" he asked.
She took a deep breath and let it out, feeling the familiar elation that this incredible man wanted to spend time with her—ordinary, practical Veronica. "No. No reason."
At least she'd be able to tell him about the corporate spy then and maybe get his advice on whatever Mr. Kline said in her meeting with him.
Marcus was smiling again. "Good. I'd better get going. I've got a status report to write before I see Kline tonight."
She smiled back. "Then you'd better get to it."
He nodded and turned to go, stopping in the cubicle entrance. Looking at her over his shoulder, he said, "I wish we were getting together tonight. Friday made me hungry."
Her entire body just melted. "Me too," she whispered.
His eyes dilated with desire. "Tonight…" He let his voice trail off, the suggestion hanging in the air between them.
She wanted to say yes so badly she had to bite her tongue in order to keep herself from blurting it out. She couldn't. It wouldn't be fair to leave Jenny with Aaron again after the teething episode.
"You said you didn't know how late you would be," she reminded Marcus.
He swore, low and under his breath. His jaw set. He didn't like to be thwarted sexually.
"What about tomorrow? Will you come back to my place after dinner?"
She thought about what she would be telling him over dinner and her stomach knotted. "If you still want me to."
His eyes narrowed at her words. "Oh, I'll want you to. Just don't be surprised if I have my own plans for dessert."
She hoped with all her heart that those plans would not change once he learned her secret.
Chapter Fourteen
"You put Allison on your list of suspects?" Kline sounded shocked.
"As your PA, she's had access to all the information leaked by the perpetrator." Marcus hadn't bothered to sit down for this short update meeting with Kline Tech's owner.
He planned to give very little information, but recognized that if he gave nothing, George Kline would grow restive. And restive clients caused problems.
Kline slammed his desk, his expression ferocious. In fact, he looked like Marcus would look if someone were threatening Ronnie.
"She's not your corporate spy."
Marcus shrugged. "She doesn't exhibit the behavior pattern of one, but that could be camouflage."
He knew better than anyone else how capable a supposedly loyal secretary was of hiding her actions and her motives.
"Let me see the rest of your list."
George Kline was not happy and Marcus frowned. "Fine, but I don't want you mentioning the investigation to Allison."
Kline stood up behind his desk. "It's my investigation."
"No, it's mine and if you want me working for you, I call the shots."
The older man nodded. "It's not an issue. I didn't think she needed to know when I brought you in and I don't plan to tell her you suspect her of betraying me."
Marcus was almost positive that Kline had a thing going with his PA. He hoped for the older man's sake that Allison was innocent.
That kind of betrayal hurt and he didn't wish it on anyone.
Eighteen months after the fact, he was just beginning to get his emotions back together and it was because he had Ronnie in his life again. And she wanted to be there.
That made up for a lot.
Veronica waited in a chair near Allison's desk, her palms sweaty and her heart beating at what felt like twice its normal speed. She'd arrived fifteen minutes early for her appointment with Mr. Kline and Allison had informed her that he would be late. She'd been sitting in the barely padded gray chair for half an hour.
The sleek lines of modern furniture in the waiting room would inform any visitor to Kline Technology of its evident place in the world of hi tech, but she had to wonder if the small sofa kitty-corner to her chair and a black melamine table was any more comfortable than her seat. It was entirely too easy to imagine herself sitting on a hard wooden bench outside the principal's office.
Taking a shallow breath and letting it out again, she reminded herself that Mr. Kline had not requested this meeting—she had.And it was the right thing to do .
"Mr. Kline can see you now." Allison didn't smile, nor did she sound particularly friendly.
In fact, she remind
ed Veronica very much of herself when she'd worked for CIS. Did the supremely efficient administrative assistant have her own reasons for imitating an automaton, as Veronica had? If so, she wondered if there was a Marcus on Allison's horizon ready to smash through the other woman's unemotional facade.
Veronica stood up, smoothing" down her gray slacks and adjusting the short matching jacket she wore over a white silk shell. She didn't normally wear suits to the office, preferring simple skirts and blouses, the wren look.
However, today, she'd needed a bolster to her confidence, so she'd dressed up a little. Considering the stylish apparel of his administrative assistant, who always managed to look like an automaton who just happened to dress in Paris business fashions, she doubted Mr. Kline would be impressed.
Allison opened the office door and ushered her inside. "Miss Richards to see you, sir."
Mr. Kline looked up, an expression of amiable interest in his eyes. "Thankyou, Allison."
The other woman clearly took that as a sign to depart because she did so, closing the office door behind her.
"Thankyou for your patience in waiting for me, Veronica. Now, what can I do for you?" he asked, while waiving her to a black leather sofa near the huge window overlooking the Seattle skyline.
It looked a lot more comfortable than the furniture in the waiting area and added the rich smell of leather to Mr. Kline's office. Sitting down, she forced herself to stop clutching her purse as if someone would grab it and steal the implicating e-mail. She set the small black carryall beside her.
Not knowing where to start, she waited in silence for him to take a seat in one of the matching chairs at either end of the sofa.
Instead, he walked over to a cubbyhole in the wall behind his desk. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"
'Yes, thankyou." She didn't really want any, but agreeing put off the moment of truth just that much longer.
A moment that would have been much less stressful if she didn't have her own past to contend with.
He poured two mugs decorated with Kline Tech's logo and handed her one. "Cream or sugar?"
She shook her head, taking in the surprisingly tempting aroma of the dark liquid. "Black is fine."
He sat down and waited, as if he had all the time in the world, as if he wasn't the president of a multi-million-dollar business that needed his constant attention.
She took a sip of her coffee, letting the smooth hickory flavor wash over her taste buds as she con-sidered what to say, and then set the mug down on the glass table in front of her. Its pedestal had been designed in the form of a hunting panther. Her startled eyes took in the animal's grace and obvious menace before she turned her gaze back to the owner of her company.
Somehow that table seemed to symbolize her predicament. She felt as if in doing the right thing, she was putting herself in the path of a hungry and possibly deadly oredator. "I've discovered something I feel you need to be aware of."
"Yes?" He didn't lean forward or go tense, and yet she got the distinct impression that he'd just gone from casual to subtly alert.
She unclasped her purse and withdrew the folded e-mail from inside. After unfolding it and taking unnecessary care to smooth it, she handed the paper to him. "I think someone in the marketing department may be selling corporate secrets."
He raised his brows in question but took the proffered e-mail and read it without saying a word.
"You'll notice both the sender and the recipient are blocked." She didn't know if he had, or not, but wanted to point it out to him.
He didn't reply and the longer the silence stretched, the more foolish she felt. She was making a mountain out of a molehill. The e-mail probably meant nothing, but she'd read something into it because of her past and the comments both Sandy and Marcus had made last week.
Where had she gotten the idea that the obscurely worded message had sinister undertones?
She felt her face heat with embarrassment and tried to think of something to extricate herself from the situation. How could she backpedal without sounding like a complete idiot, while also convincing Mr. Kline that she wasn't prone to dangerous bouts of melodrama?
She took too big a sip of coffee, her mind whirling, and had to breathe in through her open mouth to cool her burning tongue.
Mr. Kline looked up from the e-mail. "Are you okay?"
Hot with embarrassment, she mumbled, "Yes."
He went back to the e-mail and she felt as if she were reading it with him, so well did she know the message.
She'd read it so many times, she knew it by heart. As the exact words played once again through her brain, she rejected her earlier misgivings. She couldn't help thinking she was right. She had to convince Mr. Kline that the threat was real. She had to.
She didn't ask herself why she felt so strongly about it. She didn't need to. It felt as if Providence had put this information in her way so that she could, in some way, make up for her betrayal of CIS by alerting Mr. Kline to the reality of a similar situation at his company.
She pulled in a deep breath and tried speaking again. "I thought that combined with the number of information leaks we've had over the past few months, that message was too suspect to ignore."
He laid the paper down on the glass table, right over the panther's head. "Yes."
She couldn't hide her relief that he apparently believed her. "I'm so glad you see it the same way."
His eyes, which had been warm and benevolent when she arrived in his office, had narrowed and darkened to resemble the predatory gaze of the panther under the glass. "How did you come by this e-mail?"
She swallowed, her mouth having gone suddenly dry. "I-I'm the admin for the new product team."
He tipped his mug of coffee to his lips, all the while his disturbingly intense gaze rested on her. "And?"
"And…" She inhaled and sent up a quick prayer for guidance.
She felt as if her mind had stopped working and along with it, her mouth. Did he already suspect her, even without knowledge of her past? Or had Marcus told him? She rejected that idea as ridiculous. He would not betray her that way.
"And as the admin for the team, I have access to all their e-mail. When I download mine, theirs comes in as well. I delete most of it, but sometimes I need to act on things in the messages. You know, a schedule change or if I have access to information I know a team member will need because of what's being said." She realized she was rambling and cut the flow of words.
His gray hair shone metallic in the spring sunlight coming in through the huge window behind her as he bent his head and studied the e-mail further. "So, you have no way of knowing who this e-mail was intended for?"
"No, sir. I don't."
"I see that it was written last week. I have to assume it's already been picked up and deleted from the server." His head had lifted and that intent gaze once again pinned her.
"Yes, it was gone when I checked my e-mail this morning."
"I also assume you kept a copy of this on your machine. We may be able to trail to the source yet." Satisfaction radiated in his voice.
So tense her neck ached from the strain, she confessed, "Actually, no. I, um… I deleted it."
He stared at her, total disbelief written on his face. "You did what?"
She didn't want to say it again, but she had no choice. "I deleted it."
He took a visible rein on his temper. "Do you mean you deleted it to your delete file or off of your machine completely?"
"Off my machine completely." She looked down at her coffee, not wanting to see his reaction to her words.
Silence met her statement. She waited for him to ask her why she'd done such a stupid thing, but he didn't.
Instead, he stood. "I think it's time we called Marcus in on this."
Her head lifted of its own volition. "Marcus?"
Did he mean her Marcus? His investment information consultant from CIS?
Mr. Kline didn't halt on his path to his desk. "Yes. He'll be very interested in th
is development."
Why would Marcus be interested in the possibility of a corporate spy working in the marketing department? She felt as if she were missing an important piece in the puzzle.
She'd come to Mr. Kline to tell him her concerns. He'd listened. He'd believed her and now he was calling Marcus. Why not internal security? Why not Allison?
