Texan Undercover (Romantic Suspense)

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Texan Undercover (Romantic Suspense) Page 11

by Anne Marie Novark


  "What's wrong, Claire? I'm not good enough for you?" He looked down at her and she could see the vulnerability lurking in his eyes. His mother had really done a number on him.

  "Of course, you're good enough," she said. "This isn't about you; it's about me. I don't want to get involved with you." Or fall in love. But she couldn't say that. Besides, she was half afraid it was already a done deal.

  "We aren't really involved," Dillon argued. "Like I said, this is only temporary. Let me stay, Claire. Let me keep you safe until this is over."

  Her stomach bottomed out at the tenderness in his voice. Dillon might keep her safe from the hacker, but he couldn't safeguard her heart. The heart she was fast losing to him.

  He reached out and trailed a finger gently down her cheek, down her neck, tracing the V of the robe, easing it open. "Let me stay," he said again, his voice warm as honey.

  Claire knew she should stand her ground and refuse, but her body had other ideas. Against her better judgement, she stepped into Dillon's arms. Immediately his heat engulfed her, banishing the feelings of trepidation.

  He looked down at her and smiled. "I take it this means yes?"

  She nodded. "Shut up and kiss me. And don't gloat."

  CHAPTER NINE

  Claire woke up alone in bed. Her body hummed with happiness and contentment. She snuggled deeper under the fluffy comforter and hugged the feelings close.

  After a little while, her mind started churning. Thinking. Panicking. What in the world had she done last night?

  Given in to temptation, that's what. Claire sighed and flopped onto her back, staring at the ceiling. She couldn't regret the lovemaking. Wouldn't regret it. No way. It was everything she'd imagined it would be. But she'd opened up and left herself unprotected. Something she'd vowed never to do again.

  Apprehension clawed around her gut. After her disastrous marriage, Claire had closed off her heart and guarded against hurt. For five years, she'd stayed her course. The handful of men she'd dated were easily dismissed; none threatened her safe little world. Then along came Dillon, knocking aside her good resolutions.

  She turned her head and stared at the empty pillow. Where was he?

  Claire pushed away the covers and scrambled out of bed. Because her experience with morning-after confrontations was practically nonexistent, she was grateful for the reprieve. She needed to pull herself together before seeing Dillon again. Heading for the shower, she snatched her robe from the floor where it had dropped last night when Dillon pushed it from her shoulders and seduced her with his kisses. She ignored the zing of excitement in her stomach and continued to the bathroom.

  Stepping into the shower, Claire let the hot water gush over her. Quickly washing her hair, she rinsed away the suds and wished the uneasiness would rinse away as well. She toweled off and dressed for work, wondering where Dillon was and what he was doing. His duffle bag lay on the floor next to the door of her bedroom, but she hadn't heard a peep from him since she'd awakened.

  He'd been so adamant about moving in and keeping her safe. So where was he? She made her way to the kitchen just as the back door opened. Her mouth went dry and her heart turned over. Embarrassment and excitement mixed in the pit of her tummy at the sight of the large man filling her kitchen with his sexy-as-sin presence.

  "Good morning." Dillon kicked the door closed, his eyes raking her from head to toe. A delicious warmth stole over Claire, reminding her of their time together in bed. As if she could think about anything else this morning.

  Dillon snagged a towel from the back of a chair and dried his face and neck. He'd obviously been jogging. Claire took in his sweatshirt with the sleeves bunched up above the elbows and the sweatpants that couldn't disguise those muscular thighs. His sweaty hair only enhanced his sensual allure.

  She cleared her throat. "Morning."

  "Sleep well?" Dillon walked over to where she stood by the refrigerator, gave her a quick kiss and opened the fridge door.

  Claire stepped away and tried not to stare at his butt. Everything about Dillon aroused her.

  He held up a pitcher and frowned. "What is this?"

  "Kiwi juice." She bit her lip at the look of disgust on his face.

  "Don't you have anything to eat or drink that doesn't belong in a health food store? All that's in there is yogurt and green stuff. And what about coffee? I've looked everywhere. Are you hiding it or what?"

  Claire walked over and took the pitcher from him. "I don't keep coffee here. I own a cybercafé, remember? I drink coffee and eat most of my meals there." She grabbed two small glasses, poured the juice and handed him one. "Try the kiwi juice, you might like it."

  Dillon looked at the juice, then at Claire. "You can't really expect me to drink this?"

  Leaning against the counter, Claire lifted her own glass and smiled. "Bottoms up."

  He sipped tentatively and shuddered. "I don't think so." He set the glass near the sink. "I'm going to take a shower, then we'll go to work."

  "You think we ought to go together? Won't we blow your cover if we advertise our . . . relationship?"

  Dillon stepped close, towering over her. He smelled musky. Sexy. Claire's stomach toppled over.

  "You go in your car. I'll follow in my truck. I want to keep you safe, Claire." He trailed a finger along the curve of her jaw.

  "Yes, well . . . uh, thanks." She hated having her independence restricted. She lifted her chin. "You know, I can normally take care of myself. But I'm not used to this sort of thing. It's most unusual."

  Dillon backed her against the counter. His eyes flared with passion. She felt his arousal press into her. He bent so his head was even with hers. His lips only a breath away. "Nothing about any of this is . . . normal. Or usual."

  Claire was certain he was going to kiss her. Anticipation bubbled inside. Suddenly, he pushed away. "If I don't take that shower, we'll be late for work. Wait for me." He was gone before she could reply.

  With a trembling hand, Claire picked up her juice and drank. She rinsed the glass and set it in the drainer. This was ridiculous. She refused to be ruled by her hormones. And she was tired of this whole hacker business. With the cafes to run, there was no time for nonsense. A million things needed to be done before the anniversary celebration and that was first on her priority list.

  After jotting a quick note to Dillon, Claire left the condo. She told herself there wasn't any real danger. And she and Dillon weren't having a real relationship. Therefore, he had no authority over her. She was tired of being dictated to. All of her life, men had been telling her what to do. Enough was enough.

  Twenty minutes later, she let herself into e*Claire's and started the coffee pots. Richard was somewhere because freshly baked pastries sat cooling on the counters and several batches were rising in their pans ready to go in the ovens. The kitchen smelled heavenly--yeast and pungent spices mixed with the underlying fragrance of coffee beans.

  Snagging a warm cinnamon bun, Claire made her way down the hall to her office. She pushed away the uncomfortable thought that Dillon would probably be angry with her for leaving without him. But he wouldn't cause a scene here at the cafe for fear of blowing his cover. And she was thankful for that. He might have bulldozed his way into her cafe and invaded her home, not to mention her bedroom, but she'd be damned if she'd let him run her life. Or steal her heart completely.

  ****

  Dillon didn't talk to Claire the entire day. He watched her when she emerged from her office. Every time he caught her eye, she lifted her chin in that infuriating way of hers, then ignored him as she mingled with her customers. Dillon felt himself getting angrier by the minute. What the hell did she think she was doing? He'd told her she wasn't safe. That he would protect her. Wasn't she scared? He sure the hell was. Scared for her. He didn't know what bee had gotten in her bonnet, but promised himself he'd find out before the day was over.

  Brozek said Claire was going to work on the system upgrades tonight. Well, she'd better make up her mind
that he was going to help, because he was damned if she was staying alone in the cafe after hours.

  Dillon would be right beside her. Helping if she'd let him. Just watching, if not. And that wouldn't be so hard, would it? He liked looking at Claire. Especially without clothes on.

  His body tightened when he remembered last night. Claire in his arms. Claire beneath him in bed. Claire on top, on the side. Beautiful, beautiful Claire.

  Their lovemaking had touched something deep inside. Dillon definitely didn't want to go there. Claire was not the kind of woman he wanted to get involved with. Physically involved--that was okay. Safe. But he didn't want any emotional crap. He was going to enjoy Claire, then walk away. Go back to Dallas. No regrets. No problem.

  It was a good sound plan. He resolutely pushed away any and all doubts.

  The day oozed by. Dillon made his way from one computer to another, downloading data from the recorders, discreetly looking at the customers. Wondering when and if the hacker would show his presence again. Would he send another letter? An email? Or something more sinister?

  Frustration gnawed at Dillon's gut. He wanted to catch this guy. The sooner the better, so Claire would be safe. He didn't want to examine the possessive feelings he harbored about her. Never before had he felt this way about a woman. And never before had sex been as intense as it had been with Claire.

  Stop it, Anderson. Have a good time, then walk away.

  The ringing of his cell phone cut off the uncomfortable thoughts. He punched the button. "Yeah."

  "Hey, buddy. We've got trouble." Brozek's voice sounded edgy, excited.

  "What kind of trouble?" Dillon quickly scanned the cafe. Claire was nowhere in sight.

  "Lomar Industries and Tolman Technologies have been hacked into again. You need to see this. Pronto."

  "Move the van a couple of blocks over onto Rio Grande Street. I'll meet you in ten minutes." Dillon ended the call. One of his wishes seemed close to being granted. He felt the rush of adrenaline as he left the cafe. Soon. They'd catch the hacker soon.

  Making his way through the streets, Dillon spotted the white van. Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, he climbed in.

  Monitors and buttons glowed brightly in the dim interior of the vehicle; computers whirred and hummed. Brozek sat at the surveillance controls pounding away. He didn't looked up when Dillon sat down beside him.

  "What's going on?" Dillon scanned the monitors, quickly reading the output.

  "Look at this." Brozek pointed to a block of data highlighted on the screen. "Our security patch at Lomar was by-passed early this morning. Hacker-man didn't miss a beat and left this evil little present for them."

  Dillon whistled under his breath. "I've never seen anything like it."

  "Me neither." Brozek pounded out more commands. Another window popped up beside the first. "What about that?"

  An identical block of data appeared. "This is Tolman's system?" Dillon asked.

  "Yeah. Timed exactly like the other incidents."

  "What about K&G Research?"

  Brozek looked at his watch, then tapped the keyboard. A third window with the same block filled the monitor. "Just like clockwork."

  "Damn. Who the hell is this guy?"

  Brozek leaned back in his chair. "Someone who means business. Never seen a virus like that in the wild before. Those systems will be down for days. That's one wicked worm he planted."

  Dillon studied the monitor. "Move over. I want to check something."

  Brozek wheeled his chair out of the way. Dillon took his place and typed several commands on the keyboard, then whistled under his breath. "Well, what do you know?"

  Brozek scooted his chair closer. "What is it?"

  "Hold on a minute." Dillon punched in another string of commands and watched as a small terminal window popped up. The message was short and succinct.

  Going out with a bang. Taking her with me.

  Dillon stared at the monitor. The hairs on the back of his neck stood straight up.

  "Sheez," Brozek said. "Hacker-guy is getting a little aggressive, don't you think? First the letter. Now this."

  "Aggressive and maybe desperate." Dillon ran his fingers through his hair. "But why does he have it in for Claire?"

  "No telling. He's a wacko, that's for sure."

  Dillon stood. "Start the trace. See if it came out of e*Claire's."

  "Way ahead of you, buddy. I'll let you know as soon as I find something."

  Dillon climbed out of the van and hurried down the street. The need to see Claire, hold her, possess her overwhelmed him. He barely restrained himself from wrenching open the door to the cybercafé.

  Stay calm, Anderson. Hold it together.

  Clenching his hands into fists, Dillon strode through the cafe, nodding to Natalie behind the counter, before turning down the hall to the offices. He told himself he'd feel this way about any woman he was seeing. He'd want to protect any of his clients like he wanted to protect Claire.

  Yeah, right. It wasn't Brozek running to find Claire. Needing to find Claire.

  As he passed Richard's office door, Dillon heard Claire's voice from within. He stopped in his tracks, relief filling him with the knowledge that she was close. He shouldn't interrupt if she was in the middle of business. Just as he was about to turn and walk away, Claire's voice rose a notch.

  "Oh, Richard! I never would have guessed you were capable of something like this."

  "You were not supposed to find out, mademoiselle. You have ruined everything."

  The hairs on Dillon's neck bristled again. He didn't like the man's tone.

  "Nothing's ruined," Claire said. "I won't tell a soul, I promise."

  For a minute, Dillon couldn't believe what he was hearing. Had he been wrong about Pierre? About Claire? No, not Claire. Never Claire. But Pierre was a different story. He leaned closer to the door, his hand on the knob.

  "That is not good enough," the chef said angrily. "It is finished. I am afraid you will have to pay."

  All of Dillon's training and experience nearly flew out the window with his need to protect Claire. Nearly, but thankfully not completely. His hand tightened on the doorknob.

  A scuffling sounded inside the office. Papers rustled. Something fell with a thud onto the floor.

  In that split second before opening the door, Dillon reminded himself that Pierre was an unlikely suspect and if he barged in with his gun drawn, he would blow his cover and jeopardize the case. And if the man was guilty, Dillon's sudden intrusion would endanger Claire even more.

  He waited another heartbeat, then eased open the door. Claire and Richard stood in front of his desk. They both turned as Dillon entered the office.

  "It's you!" Richard spread his arms wide on either side of his body, trying to keep Dillon from seeing whatever was on his desk.

  Ignoring the little Frenchman, Dillon ran a quick eye over Claire. "You all right?"

  "Yes, of course." Twin spots of color stained her pale cheeks. Dillon wondered if she was embarrassed about last night. Women sometimes acted funny about sex. Or maybe she had regrets. He hoped she didn't have regrets, because he sure as hell didn't. He wanted a repeat performance. As soon as possible.

  "What's going on here?" Dillon moved forward into the room. He tore his gaze from Claire and focused his attention on the chef.

  "It's none of your affaire," Richard said. "Please remove yourself from my office. I do not care to have you in here."

  "Pipe down, Pierre." He tried to see what was on the desk, but the man countered every move with his body, frustrating Dillon's attempts. He could bodily move him out of the way, but decided against it. Claire wouldn't like that at all.

  "Mademoiselle! Please!" Richard turned to his employer, clasping his hands together beseechingly.

  "All right. We'll discuss this later." Claire grabbed Dillon's arm, hauled him into the hall and slammed the door behind them. She immediately released him and stood staring at the floor.

 
Too many thoughts chased inside Dillon's brain as he looked at Claire's bent head. Memories of last night intruded over the frustrations of the case. He wanted to pull her into his arms, feel her soft curves against him again. He wanted to assure himself she was safe. Make sure she stayed safe.

  He smoothed the silky hair over her shoulder, ran a finger up her neck, across her cheek, lingered beneath the determined chin and tilted her head until her eyes met his.

  "We need to talk."

  She didn't say anything, only searched his face. Looking for what, Dillon didn't know.

  Claire swallowed. "Is my office okay?"

  He gently squeezed her chin before letting go. "Lead the way."

  After he closed the door, Dillon forced himself not to haul her into his arms. Instead, he sank into a chair after Claire sat down at her desk.

  "Want to tell me what Pierre's up to?"

  Claire's smile hit him full force. She folded her hands on top of the desk, her big brown eyes shining with laughter and mischief. "Well, he's definitely not the hacker."

  "You sure?"

  "Oh, yeah. I'm sure."

  "So what's the big secret?"

  "I can't tell you. I really didn't see much. But it has to do with the anniversary celebration. You'll have to trust me."

  Trust didn't come easily for Dillon. Especially when it concerned women. Claire had asked him to trust her the first time they'd met. Impossible then. But now? He would trust her on this, but nothing else.

  "All right," Dillon said. "But it sounded like he was threatening you. Something about you paying--?"

  "Oh, that," Claire said. "Richard thinks I've ruined his surprise and I'll still have to pay for the supplies and such. No big deal. I'll reassure him that I don't really know what he's up to. That his secret is still safe."

  Dillon searched her face, looking for any sign that she might be hiding something. Nothing there except her exceptional beauty and a hint of that vulnerability. He knew his news would make her feel even more vulnerable.

 

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