Dangerous Illusions (Steel Hawk Book 3)

by Sarah Ballance

  The breath he forced himself to take carried her scent. Something crisp and clean, like fresh linen. An image flashed of her auburn hair spilling over a white pillowcase, but he shoved it aside. “Ms. Garza, let me make myself clear. I have not in any way—either through carelessness or criminal intent—been complicit in the security breaches that resulted in the loss of the contracts or the theft of the Pasha Star, nor did I author, coauthor, or otherwise contribute to the book in question.”

  To his surprise, she merely smiled—as serenely as if he’d just given her his lunch order. “Then I can expect your cooperation?”

  “Oh, you can count on it, Ms. Garza. But you’d better keep one thing in mind.”

  “And what’s that?”

  His gaze slipped to her lips. They were a perfectly reasonable, unassuming shade of pink, but they glistened like she’d just tasted something succulent. His groin tightened. Desire forced the blood from his veins, making his response truer than he’d intended. But damned if he didn’t say it anyway.

  “Be careful what you wish for.”

  * * * * *

  Sophie, grateful Edward had retreated to his chair, watched unapologetically as he made his phone call. It was late afternoon in San Francisco, putting it close to midnight in Zarrenburg, where Adam was holed up with Sophie’s sister, Honeysuckle. Sophie hoped Edward didn’t wake them. Interrupting something carnal would be much more satisfying.

  When the duo had briefed Sophie on the goings-on at Steel Hawk, they’d warned her that Edward wasn’t the most personable of characters. They—or at least Honeysuckle—failed to mention the man was a hundred and ten in the shade. Adam wouldn’t be expected to convey such information, so he’d be off the hook but for the fact he was probably the reason her sister hadn’t provided the requisite detail. Sure, she’d seen pictures, but no flat image could touch that man.

  Sophie squared her shoulders—mentally, at least, because in actuality, they were already stiff as boards—and tried to shut down the attraction. She was a professional, but moreover, Edward was her target. She’d taken a risk laying it all out on the table for him, but she’d sensed it was the only way she’d gain his cooperation.

  Cooperation?

  Since when had she needed to literally side with the enemy? Since he’s the key to the whole operation. And that was the bitter truth. Whether or not Edward was involved, he was in the thick of things. There was no way she could investigate him without giving credence to that whole keep your friends close and your enemies closer motto—especially not with the way security was set up. She didn’t know for sure, but she’d bet Edward could access the database that would track her movements through the company. Better he think her on his side.

  His end of the phone conversation didn’t reveal much. He’d mentioned her name, then settled back in his chair, no doubt to listen to Adam convey her carefully scripted story. In the meantime, Edward’s dark brown gaze rested on her, lazy as a Sunday morning, but she had a feeling his senses were honed razor-sharp. When he finally set the phone on his desk, it took her a minute to realize he hadn’t said good-bye.

  “Are you suitably convinced?” she asked.

  He gave a short nod. “Suitably.”

  “Excellent,” she said, though she wondered if the exact opposite might be true. “May I see the safe where the documents were held?”

  “Not yet.”

  “There’s a prerequisite?”

  “The safe is private.”

  “And so were those documents,” she countered. “The access point is rather essential.”

  Rather than respond, Edward turned his oversized computer monitor so she could see the display. After a number of keystrokes she wasn’t able to catch, a series of smaller screens appeared.

  “Security footage,” she said. “I don’t get it.”

  “What’s your cover?”

  She turned from the digital display to look at him. “I’m a communications expert.”

  “Good. Now let’s keep that in mind before we start roaming the hallways.”

  “Are you saying your private safe isn’t in your office?”

  “Very intuitive,” he said, though she had the feeling he was patronizing her. “While I do have a safe in my office, the one in question is not in here.”

  “And why is that?”

  He studied her for a moment, lending the feeling he’d yet to make up his mind about trusting her. She had to give him credit for that. “Because my office is the logical place,” he said. I deal with a number of extremely sensitive documents, not the least of which includes the documentation for filing patents. My role is well known throughout the company. You can imagine where a potential thief would search first.”

  “Your office,” she murmured.

  “Exactly.”

  “But you would be able to track movement in and out of your office.”

  He shook his head. “Not necessarily. How often do you hold the door open for someone?”

  “Pretty much anytime they’re near,” she admitted. “But isn’t the same true for the other location?”

  “My office is open to the public, so to speak. The secondary location is private. There’s no reason for anyone to go there but me. In fact, to my knowledge, Mr. Steel and I are the only ones who know about the safe.”

  She glanced at the security feed. “It’s not on camera?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. That would defeat the purpose.”

  “So what you’re telling me is this safe is in a hidden room with no security footage?”

  “Not quite.”

  Could he be more evasive? “Would you care to elaborate?”

  “In your capacity as a communications expert, access to secure areas will be limited.”

  The change of subject was so smooth, it took a moment to register. “That’s not what my security clearance states.”

  A smile threatened his lips. “I see that, Ms. Garza. To be honest, I’m more than a little disturbed by the areas to which you’ve been given access.”

  “And I’d be a little more concerned about your opinion if I was working for you,” she shot back. “Did your conversation with Mr. Steel not placate you?”

  “If you were in my position, do you think you’d be placated?”

  She studied him, noticing for the first time the strain that lined his features. “Not by a long shot,” she admitted.

  “This is a security firm. Our common areas are more secure than most bank vaults. For a stranger to be allowed carte blanche—”

  “I get it. You’re not happy, and that’s on a good day.” His eyes widened slightly, and she suppressed amusement. “But I was hired to get to the bottom of the trouble here, so you can either accommodate me, or you can take your argument to Mr. Steel. Although I must advise you, protesting probably won’t be in your best interest.”

  “Is that so?”

  He was toying with her again. “Of course. I’m here to find out who’s behind this activity, which will, in turn, clear your name. What could you possibly have against that?”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. “If you will allow me to finish, I was going to say you will draw suspicion if you head straight for the restricted areas. Unfortunately, there was no way to keep the contents of that book from our employees, but we’d like to keep further disruptions minimal.”

  He was good, she’d give him that. But was that concern for the company, or more an effort to cover his own tracks? One way or another, she’d find out. She was there to do a job, and he was the last person who’d stand in her way. “I—”

  “Also of note,” he continued smoothly, “this appears to be an inside job. At this point, we don’t know from where, so we need to be careful about whom we tip off.”

  Was it her imagination, or had some of the bite left his tone? The thought warmed her and just as quickly raised an alarm. She didn’t need his approval, and she didn’t like the way the hint of it made her feel. “Let’s start with access to the ar
ea. Who has it?”

  “Janitorial.”

  Her jaw nearly dropped. “Really? You think this is a good idea?”

  “The safe is hidden and further protected by an alarm, with only limited staff given special clearance to access that floor. No one knows of the secret location except…” He frowned.

  “You and Mr. Steel.” No surprise there. “Still, how stringent are the background checks?”

  “All our background checks are the same, and by that, I mean thorough. We don’t require a master’s degree to mop the floors, but our employees are all squeaky clean.”

  “And after they’re hired?”

  “We continue to perform the checks quarterly for general staff and monthly for anyone with high clearance.”

  “I’m impressed. That’s a rather gaping hole for many companies.”

  He accepted the compliment with a stiff nod. “We’re diligent.”

  Sophie pressed her lips together, remembering how she’d helped her sister circumvent scrutiny by setting her up with a cleaner image than that of a former burlesque dancer. Honeysuckle wasn’t a bad person—she’d just wanted a fresh start, and Sophie wanted nothing more than for her to get one. Her sister deserved that, and her pseudo-employer had gratefully added her to the roster after Sophie’s investigative work quietly put a stop to a bout of in-house white-collar crime that could have cost the man his business. Had someone else—someone less deserving—managed to pull the same strings? “Are there any contractors or temporary employees who might have gained access?”

  “It’s unlikely, but I can’t say it’s impossible. We only use trusted contractors, but we can’t vet their employees. We do, however, track their movements through the building and block entry to secure areas.”

  “I’m going to need a list of employees.”

  “I figured as much.” He tapped his keyboard, bringing up a log-in page. He typed in a password, then stood and gestured toward the seat he’d just vacated. “You can use my computer.”

  The shock that rocketed through her must have shown on her face.

  Edward grinned. “Relax, Ms. Garza. It’s a guest account. You won’t be privy to Steel Hawk’s private matters, nor mine.”

  “Of course,” she said, still reeling from the effect of his smile. “I was just…surprised.”

  “Don’t be. We don’t have free computer stations sitting around, and you would not be allowed access to our network via a personal computer. I’m afraid this is your only option. If you’d like, I can pull up a list of employee names.” Without waiting for her response, he tapped a number of keys. After a few seconds, a spreadsheet filled the screen. “Their records remain confidential—at least through our channels—but I’m sure you have your ways.”

  She rose. “I appreciate your generosity, Mr. Long.”

  “Please, call me Edward. And if you’re free tonight, I’ll take you through the rest of the building once the staff clears out.”

  “Okay…Edward.” He stood so close, waiting, that she had little choice but to edge past him. It was a mistake. Her fingers grazed his suit—the jacket, the cuff—and every fiber seemed to imprint on her being. She involuntarily jerked away her hand just as he lifted his, as if to steady her, and the subsequent contact lit fire to her blood. Desperate to break the sudden tension, she swallowed and found her tongue. “I’m free tonight.”

  Damn. She hated how the words fell from her lips. They were a little too breathless—a little too…impressed. And standing there, scant inches separating them, a little too personal. Her height had never been problematic before, but now she cursed it. The man had heat circling him like atmosphere, and despite his imposing stature, she needed only the barest tip of her head to find herself directly in line with that rich chocolate gaze. The uncertainty therein surprised her.

  Endless seconds passed before he took a step back. Immediately, she missed his proximity, her fingers itching for another touch, but she pushed aside those thoughts. She needed air. She needed anything but the lingering feel of his fingertips against her skin. The job. Focus on the job. She turned to the computer, placed her bag on the desk, and settled into his chair. The butter-soft leather was still warm from his body. His big, hard body. She glanced up to find he looked expectantly at her. “You can call me Sophie,” she managed.

  His warm smile sent her heart into honest-to-goodness cartwheels, but it also made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Mr. Gruff and Furious had turned on the charm, and it couldn’t be for naught. His generous offer to allow her use of his computer wasn’t entirely shocking—by using the guest account, she wouldn’t have access to his personal documents, while he’d know her every keystroke. He couldn’t think her blind to that fact. No, there was something else going on, and she couldn’t see through the haze of her raging libido to figure out what.

  “I’ll check back in to see if you need anything,” he said. “But if you come across something that can’t wait, there’s a map of the building on each floor on the wall near the elevator and another near the stairs, or you can dial one on the landline for the receptionist. I wouldn’t recommend going into the basement—that’s the research lab—without me.”

  She nodded her thanks. “I have plenty to do for now. I’ll stay put.”

  He hesitated. “Do you like Chinese? I can order dinner in.”

  Was this the proverbial olive branch? If so, it probably had a snake in it. Still, food was food, and friend or enemy, she’d do well to keep him close. “Jalapeno chicken.”

  His brow lifted. “Not afraid of a little heat?”

  “Quite fond of it, actually.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she cringed inwardly. Oh God. Was it just her, or was the world suddenly drenched with innuendo?

  He smiled, revealing an honest-to-goodness dimple. A dimple. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, apparently oblivious to the hot flush overtaking her body. He left then, without a backward glance.

  She took a deep breath and turned her attention to the computer. The list of employees was longer than she expected. Because she was unsure how long Edward’s good mood would last—and wanting to continue the work later in her hotel room—she decided to print a copy. A quick glance around the sparse room revealed a printer along the back wall, and upon closer inspection, she found the model to match one of those listed on the print menu. She added the file to the print queue and experienced a bout of relief when the machine sprang to life.

  Until she looked up to find Edward’s eyes on her. He was a good thirty feet away, a solid wall of glass between them, but she felt the impact as if he was breathing the same air. His expression was unreadable, but there was no mistaking the focus of his scrutiny.

  Her.

  She forced her attention back to the computer. The next time she looked up, he was gone. Rattled, she reached into her bag and found her cell phone. She needed to check in with Honeysuckle, and she didn’t want to be overhead. The once-comforting knowledge of endless surveillance left her feeling exposed enough to tuck the phone just under the desk, where she tapped out a quick text to her sister. It was late in Zarrenburg, but not much time had passed since Edward’s call to Adam. Honeysuckle should still be awake.

  The phone call go okay?

  Less than a minute passed before a reply hit her screen. What phone call?

  Sophie’s pulse kicked up a notch. E spoke with A a few minutes ago.

  No, he didn’t.

  Sophie swallowed. Are you sure?

  Positive, Honeysuckle replied. He’s right here. Says he hasn’t talked to him at all today.

  Sophie’s trembling hand jarred the screen. She looked up, half expecting to see Edward’s eyes on her, then realized he didn’t have to be standing there to watch her. There was no telling where the cameras were, but she’d figure everywhere to be a good guess.

  The phone dinged. Are you okay?

  Everything’s fine, Sophie typed. Just a misunderstanding.

  Be careful.


  Will do.

  Sophie deleted the messages, then tucked her phone in her pocket, electing to keep it close. Edward had sat right in that very chair pretending to talk to Adam, but he hadn’t placed the call. He hadn’t verified her story, yet he’d given her access to the computer. To his office. He’d set her up, but to what end? Unless he believed she’d invented her story, he must know there would be no benefit in bringing her harm. Adam knew she was in place, and she’d left fingerprints to prove it. Edward must have a motive, but what?

  A cold chill scraped her shoulder blades. Not because he’d lied to her, but because she’d taken the bait…and for some reason, that had made Edward smile.

  Chapter Three

  Monique Vass had just taken the first sip of her favored pinot when a shrill ring from her laptop split the air.

  Rufus de Burgh was early.

  In sudden, careless motion, she pushed the glass of wine deep into a hidden corner of the cupboard and rushed to her computer, her hands working to coax her hair into submission. She’d only just removed the black wig that hid her short blonde locks, and she feared marks from the pins were still visible. Rufus would be furious. He’d find a way to punish her.

  He always did.

  She dropped onto the sofa in front of her computer and clicked to open the call.

  Rufus’s face appeared on the screen. Handsome. Angry. “Who’s the girl?”

  Monique’s heart fluttered madly. Even from half a world away, Rufus held a certain power over her. She’d been just eighteen when they met at university—she a history major, he studying business—and they had not been apart since. Not, that is, until he’d sent her from Zarrenburg to San Francisco to help him carry out this vendetta. Her rented one-bedroom apartment was lonely, her daily webcam communication with Rufus never enough. He had grown increasingly agitated, less concerned with the ritual of their relationship.