"I know what it does," she said, looking up. "Ties up the server. Puts them out of commission for a while. Kind of juvenile, don't you think?" Her low melodic voice washed over him.
"Yeah, our sophisticated hacker doesn't seem above using a schoolboy prank. Six months ago, he installed a back door to the systems at the three targeted companies. That made it possible for him to enter their networks anytime he wanted, from anywhere and do anything."
"And he's working out of e*Claire's." She fidgeted with the pen.
"That's right." Dillon watched her hands, mesmerized by the movements. Claire stroked the pen slowly between her fingers and thumb. Up the length, then down. His body responded to the rhythm of the motion. Up, then down. Up, then down. He could almost feel those beautiful fingers caressing him. Up and down. Up and down. Damn.
Dillon cleared his throat. "For months, he's been entering the systems and altering data with subtle changes. Skewing research results in such a way that it took a while for the companies to figure out someone was hacking them."
Claire grasped the pen with both hands and nudged the end with her chin. "So why the Smurf attack? And why now?"
Never before had Dillon considered a ballpoint pen to be an instrument of erotic torture. The job. Keep the mind on the job.
"It may be a diversionary tactic," he said. "Maybe he found the patches my partner installed over the security holes in the systems. Maybe he's playing with us. Getting ready to do more serious damage."
When Claire stuck the tip of the pen in her mouth, Dillon nearly lost it. He must have made a noise, because her hands froze and her eyes flew to his. The pen dropped and clattered on the desktop. She snatched it up and stuffed it in the pencil holder.
Tension hung thick and heavy between them.
It was her turn to clear her throat. "So you think this is the same guy?"
Dillon shifted in the chair. He couldn't believe he was aroused just because she'd been fidgeting with a pen. The woman was lethal. He needed to be careful. "If it's traced back here, we can assume so."
"Do you think it was done this morning?" She crossed her legs under the desk. Dillon fought the image of him grasping her knees, pulling them apart and sinking into her soft body. What the hell was wrong with him? Brozek was right. It had been too long since he'd been with a woman.
"No, I wouldn't think so," Dillon said, forcing his attention back to the conversation. "He probably came in a couple of days ago and programmed the attack to occur at a later time. Another safeguard to prevent being traced."
"So what happens next?" She leaned forward and clasped her hands on the edge of the desk. Her knuckles turned white from the pressure. Claire must be feeling the same tension. Dillon was glad he wasn't the only one.
"I think the hacker's getting ready to break into the data systems again. There's been a consistent pattern to his attacks. I want to be ready for him."
"What are you going to do?" Her brown eyes dropped to his mouth, then away. She caught his gaze and tried to smile, but it didn't work. He wondered if she knew she was driving him crazy.
"I want to install security cameras in the cafe."
Claire frowned. "Security cameras? I'm not sure--"
"We need to know who comes into the cafe, what computers they're using and when they're using them. It'll help us nail the guy. You do want us to nail him, don't you?"
"Of course. Why didn't you put the cameras in place when you wired the computers?"
"There was a delay in shipment. The equipment didn't come in until a couple of days ago."
"So why didn't you install it then?"
"Think about it, Claire. When could I install it? You've been out of town."
"Oh, right." She frowned. "When do you want to do it?"
Anytime. Any place, babe. She was killing him here. Slow, but sure. She was killing him.
"The sooner, the better. Tonight would be good." Dillon quickly banished the thought of being alone with Claire in the hushed atmosphere of the cafe. After hours. Again. He'd deal with it. He had to deal with it. There was no way he would give in to the desire crackling between him and this woman.
"Won't the cameras attract attention? Alert the hacker that you're on to him?" she asked.
"It's state-of-the-art surveillance equipment. No one will know they're there."
Claire smiled. "I'm hearing that Mission Impossible music again."
Her smile pole-axed him right in the gut. "I wish you'd treat this situation a little more seriously," Dillon said gruffly.
"I am," she said. She wasn't smiling any longer. "I'm taking this situation very seriously. More than you know."
****
After Dillon left her office, Claire sat for a long time thinking. She had never reacted to anyone like she reacted to Dillon. Never remembered having a man attracted to her like he obviously was.
She lifted the ballpoint pen from the holder. Her innocent fidgeting had inadvertently not been so innocent. Instead, it had provoked a blazing desire in Dillon's eyes. The man had radiated a heat that climbed across the desk and grabbed her. Even now, she shivered in response. He'd made her want to feel his arms around her. Taste his kisses. And much more.
But Claire couldn't let that happen. She'd played with fire before. Granted, it had only been a tiny flame compared to the raging inferno that threatened to consume her whenever she and Dillon came together. No, she didn't want to play with fire. She'd been burned already. And she had sworn, never again.
Claire tossed the pen in a drawer and got to work. At one-thirty, she stopped for lunch and walked out into the cafe. The place buzzed with activity. Lunch hour was winding down, but almost every seat was occupied. Some customers were still eating, some studying, and a few were asleep in the overstuffed chairs. That was okay. It pleased Claire that her customers treated the cafe as a home away from home.
What didn't please her was to think one of her customers was using e*Claire's to commit a crime. She hated looking at everyone with suspicion and hoped Dillon caught the hacker soon. Then things could go back to normal and he would leave. She ignored the little voice whispering that she didn't want to go back to normal. Didn't want the private eye to leave.
On the far side of the cafe, Dillon sat at one of the computers. He looked up and stared at Claire for a long second, then turned his attention back to the monitor. She had the feeling he wanted to ignore this attraction between them just as much as she did. And that was good, wasn't it?
Claire ordered her usual tofu salad and raspberry tea, intending to eat in her office. She spotted Natalie at one of the tables with Frank Winslowe and decided to join them.
"Hey, girl," Natalie said. "Sit down. Take a load off."
"Thanks, I will." Claire slid into a chair opposite them. Frank sat in front of the computer with Natalie close by. "How're you doing, Frank?" Claire asked. "Glad you're back. Natalie's glad you're back." She winked at her friend.
Color crept into Frank's cheeks. He blinked rapidly behind his steel-rimmed glasses, glanced at Natalie, then back at the monitor. "I'm pleased to be back."
"How was Colorado?" Claire squeezed lemon juice over her salad, added pepper and dug in.
"Freezing," he said. "Actually, below freezing taking into account the wind chill factor."
"Did you get a chance to hit the slopes?" Claire asked.
Frank blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
"She means did you ski?" Natalie plucked a lettuce leaf from Claire's bowl and popped it in her mouth.
"No, I don't ski. I was in Boulder, examining artifacts with a few colleagues." He jotted notes on a legal pad next to the computer.
"What are you working on, Frank?" Claire sipped her tea.
Natalie answered for him. "It has something to do with compiling data for his research. He's been working on it for months. I think it's connected with his doctoral dissertation. Right, Frank?"
"Hmm?" He stuck the pencil behind his ear and continued tapping on the keyboard.
>
Claire finished her salad, smiling to herself. She could understand why Natalie liked Frank. He was attractive in an intellectual, nerdy kind of way. And that vague, absent-mindedness was sort of cute.
"Where are you two going on your date?" she asked. Her friend seemed happy sitting next to Frank. No complications in Nat's love life. She grabbed what she wanted and ran with it. Or him, as the case may be.
Unlike herself. Claire glanced across the cafe. Dillon had moved to another computer. Tracing the hacker, no doubt. She wondered how she was going to handle the sexual attraction between them. Ignore it. That's what she was going to do.
"Frank's taking me to a protest rally at the capitol." Natalie's blue eyes twinkled.
"Oh? What kind of protest?" Claire knew Nat didn't care one way or another about politics or current issues. But Frank was an environmentalist. He could talk for hours about the ozone layer and acid rain. When he wasn't absorbed in his doctorate studies, that is.
"Depletion of the rain forests," Frank said, not looking up from the monitor.
"I can hardly wait." Natalie grinned at Claire.
"It should be an enlightening experience for you." Frank jotted more notes, oblivious to the sarcasm in Nat's voice.
"Yeah, real enlightening. Frank, I need to get back to work. Tootles." She fluttered her fingers in front of his face.
He frowned and looked at her. "Tootles?"
"Good bye. See you later. Adios." Natalie stood. Claire did, too.
Frank pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Good bye, then. I look forward to seeing you later in the week."
Natalie snagged Claire's arm and hauled her away. "Isn't he the cutest thing?" she whispered in her ear.
"Mmm. Not your usual type though."
"I'm in the mood for something different," Natalie said with a sigh.
"You make him sound like an appetizer or dessert."
"Yum yum." Natalie licked her lips.
"Natalie!"
"Claire!"
They both laughed as they walked down the hall to Claire's office.
"What were you and Mr. Macho doing behind closed doors this morning?" Natalie asked.
"I wish you wouldn't call him that."
"Okay. How about Mr. Leave-me-alone, I've-got-a-job-to-do?"
Claire sat at her desk. "He rejected your advances?" That wasn't pleasure and relief she felt, was it?
Natalie shrugged. "He made it clear he wasn't interested. Luckily, there are more fish in the ocean and I had another nibble. Frank finally took the bait."
"Frank's not a fish, Natalie."
"Sure, he is. And a cute fish at that." Natalie waggled her eyebrows.
"You're hopeless, you know it?"
"You've finally figured that out?"
"Just don't hurt Frank," Claire said. "He's a sweet guy."
"I don't intend to hurt him."
"That's what you always say. I hate to break this to you, but men weren't put earth just for you to sample, then toss away."
"Hey, I like to play the field. Have a little fun."
"One of these days, it's going to backfire on you, Nat." Just like it had backfired on Claire. She'd never played the field, but love and marriage had backfired on her. Big time.
"I'm too smart for that," Natalie said.
"Right." Claire opened her email.
"So, what happened in here this morning? Mr. Macho followed you out of the kitchen fast enough. He looked like he wanted to gobble you up. Did he kiss you?"
"This is business, Nat. Not personal. Besides, I'm not ready for a relationship."
"Who's talking relationship? Loosen up, Claire. There's a hunky guy out there attracted to you." She glanced at her watch. "I've got to run. I'm expecting a shipment of supplies in fifteen minutes." She was gone on the words.
Not for the first time, Claire wished she was more like Natalie. A free spirit instead of a stick-in-the-mud. That's what Claire was. At least, in her personal life. In business, it was different. Establishing e*Claire's had been a risky venture. Cybercafés were not as popular in the United States as they were in Europe and Asia. But Claire had liked the idea of combining a coffee house and computers near the university. And it had paid off. In more ways than one.
For the past five years, Claire had worked to achieve balance in her life. And independence. After the divorce, she had been at loose ends, her self-confidence shattered. Natalie's invitation to Texas had given Claire a new start. With her best friend's encouragement, she had opened the first e*Claire's.
It had taken a while, but she had finally found some semblance of peace and security. Her life seemed to be back on track and running smoothly. So why did she have the horrible feeling that soon it was all going to come tumbling down?
****
Standing on a ladder, Dillon installed the last security camera in the hall leading to the back offices of the coffee shop. He tried not to think about the woman sitting behind the closed door right in front of him. Claire had avoided him all day. After the last customer left, she had shown him where the ladder was, then retreated to her office, leaving him to do his work.
He was finished now. It was getting late. Time to go. Dillon rotated his shoulders, trying to ease the tension. He'd been tense ever since he'd seen Claire this morning. His whole body was tense. And there was nothing he could do about it. Well, there was. But he wouldn't go there. It wasn't going to happen.
He started down the ladder, at the same moment Claire opened the door to her office. The door banged the legs of the ladder, giving him a jolt.
"Watch it!" He grabbed the top rung and regained his footing.
"Sorry." She eased out of her office and stood against the wall.
Dillon descended the last two steps of the ladder aware of those chocolate colored eyes on him. A heaviness settled in his groin as he stepped off the ladder and stood in front of Claire. The tension was there again. If he wasn't careful, he was going to kiss her.
"All done?" she asked.
Dillon didn't move out of her space. Claire stood her ground, leaning on the wall, hands behind her back. Would she welcome his kisses? He didn't think so. He stepped back and turned away. She sure as hell wouldn't welcome him pinning her against the wall, pressing himself into her softness. Wouldn't happen. Couldn't happen.
Yeah, Anderson. Keep telling yourself that.
"All done." He folded the ladder, fighting the sexual pull, fighting the want. "I'll put this away, then we can call it a night."
He froze when Claire reached out and touched his arm. He'd been thinking about her hands all day. Small hands. Beautiful hands. He's been fantasizing how they'd feel on him. Holding him. Rubbing him. He wanted to take her to bed and it was driving him crazy.
She plucked two short threads of wire from his sleeve and held them up. "Sorry, couldn't resist."
"Couldn't resist?" Hell, it was taking all of his willpower to resist the hunger consuming him. To resist her.
Claire hunched her shoulders. "I'm a neat freak. I can't stand crooked pictures on walls or pieces of lint on people's clothes. Or pieces of wire. Things like that."
She moved past him and started down the hall. Expecting him to follow, no doubt. Oblivious to the fire she'd ignited by her touch.
The kitchen was dark except for the light they'd left on in the storeroom. Dillon placed the ladder where he'd found it, holding on to it for a moment, trying to douse the flames burning inside of him.
"Is something wrong?" Claire asked. In the small confines of the storeroom, her voice sounded hushed. It whispered over him like a filmy piece of silk.
He felt his body jerk in response, felt the tightening in his belly as Claire stepped closer. Didn't she realize what she was doing to him?
He couldn't stand it any longer. He grabbed her shoulders, wanting to shake her. Wanting to kiss her. He needed to kiss Claire. He needed to feel her kiss him back. Needed to make the fire burn brighter between them.
"I'll tell
you what's wrong," he said, his own voice harsh with desire. "I want to kiss you. I want to do a whole lot more than just kiss."
Her brown eyes widened. But not in fear. She looked at his mouth. He nearly groaned when she bit her lip, as if mulling over what he'd just said.
"I don't think that would be a good idea," she said softly.
"Probably not." He pulled her close. She didn't resist.
"We shouldn't do this, Dillon."
"I agree."
"You do?" He felt her hands on his chest. To push him away? He waited a heartbeat. Then another. She didn't push, instead she spread her fingers wide. He wondered if her touch would burn a hole through his shirt.
"Shut up, Claire. We're going to do this."
"But--"
He didn't give her time to protest. He covered her mouth and swallowed her words. Claire's lips were sweet and he glided his tongue along the bottom one, urging her to open to him. She quickly complied and he dove in, tasting her fully.
Dillon pulled her closer, enjoying the feel of her in his arms. Claire slid her hands over his shoulders and clasped them behind his neck. Her firm breasts pressed against him, making his groin tighten even more. He buried his fingers in her hair, angled her head and deepened the kiss.
Her whimper of pleasure made him want to take her right there on the floor of the storeroom. He moved his hands down her back and cupped her rear end, hauling her against him, grinding his arousal into her heat.
"Claire, let me inside you. I want to make love to you." He nipped her earlobe, then spread kisses down the column of her throat.
She stiffened in his arms, her breath coming in ragged gasps. He tried to take her mouth in another searing kiss, but she turned her head and pushed him away.
"I can't do this." Her trembling fingers swiped several loose strands of hair out of her face. She heaved a deep shuddering breath. "I'm sorry. I can't do this. We can't do this."
"You're right. Not here. Not now." He stepped back and clenched his hands at his sides to keep from grabbing her again.
"Not ever." Claire shook her head.
"How can you say that after what just happened?" How could she blow off the most explosive kiss he'd ever experienced?
Texan Undercover (Romantic Suspense) Page 4
