Wicked Pleasure
Page 9
Finally, he rapped his knuckles on the jamb.
She jerked at the intrusion, sending him a sharp glance as she set to work, pulling on her socks. “What?”
“Are you going to tell me what this is all about?”
“I shouldn’t have come here.” She jammed her feet into her boots. “This was stupid. We’re not... This can’t... I should have shut down your countdown clock and disappeared.”
He watched, oddly fascinated, as she laced them up with sharp, precise movements, like a general suiting up for battle. If not for the slight shake in her hands, he might have bought the resurrection of her badass facade, missed the cracks in her usually inscrutable smirk.
She kept her eyes averted as she approached him, obviously intending to blow right past. The air between them vibrated, despite the coolness she was trying to establish.
At the last second, Liam put his hand out, blocking the doorway. She glanced up sharply. “AJ—”
“Sorry to interrupt, sir, but we’ve arrived. We’ll be ready to disembark in a few moments. We’re just tying up.”
Liam closed his eyes. Exhaled. Dropped his arm. “Thank you, McGee.”
When he opened his eyes, AJ hadn’t moved. A slight frown marred her brow, and Liam thought for a second, for just a second, that maybe she’d changed her mind. But then she shook her head, like she was clearing it, and hurried down the stairs. With a sigh, he pushed off the doorframe and followed her back to the deck.
She was standing at the railing, feet from where she’d tied him up earlier and blown his mind.
Liam shoved his hands in his pockets and walked over to stand beside her as she watched the crew finishing up on the dock below. “So that’s it then?”
Her breezy shrug confirmed it. “What more was left? Fights? Resentment? Breaking up? We already got all the good stuff, right? Why ruin a perfect...” She reached out and grabbed his forearm, and he ignored the crackle of awareness as she tugged his left hand out of his pocket and checked his watch. “Twenty-two hours?”
“I could’ve sworn my reservation was for the whole day.”
Her fingers slid along his arm as she lowered it to his side, and then her touch was gone. She smiled, but it lacked the spark of her earlier ones. “It’s all about craftsmanship, right? Quality, not quantity. So let’s stop trying to make this more than it was. We had a couple of great orgasms together. It was fun. Now it’s over.”
He stepped close, too close, and she lifted her chin defiantly. So fucking stubborn. He swooped in, capturing her mouth in a kiss that went from zero to sixty faster than his Bugatti. Her head tipped back under the pressure, and she clutched his shoulders for balance, kissing him back angrily. Hungrily. Desperately. And still, he didn’t let himself reach for her, tucked his free hand back into his pocket even though every part of him wanted to drag her closer, feel her pressed against him.
He bit back a groan as he lifted his head, watching the desire swirl in her eyes before she regained her senses and tamped it down, tugging her arms back from where they’d ended up twined around his neck. He rested his hip against the rail. “If you say so.” Liam tipped his head toward the dock, where several crewmen were milling about. “McGee can give you a lift wherever you’re going.”
“I’ve got my own ride,” she informed him, rather haughtily, as she walked away.
He forced himself not to turn, though mentally he kept track of her progress, past the table, down the stairs, she should appear on the dock right...about...now.
Liam turned back toward the deck. He didn’t want to be caught staring if she decided to look back, he wasn’t going to wave, but as though fate knew how much he wanted to check on her progress and was mocking him, something on the lounger caught his eye.
He sauntered toward the bow of the yacht, stopped beside the chair with the black jacket slung over its arm.
His jaw tightened in response to the feeling that spiraled in his chest as he reached for the leather. It was a little too much like relief for his peace of mind, but before he could analyze it further, something fell out of her jacket and bounced on the deck.
Liam frowned at the small silver disc.
What the...?
He reached down to pick it up and his throat went dry. It wasn’t his. He could tell by the shitty plastic case, but it was a pretty credible knockoff. Why the hell would AJ have...
Their entire acquaintance flipped through his mind, but without the haze of lust, it looked far more incriminating.
He riffled through the rest of the pockets, but they were empty.
His hand fisted around the fake Shield and he stalked back toward the table where he’d left his laptop. First, he was going to upload this counterfeit and see what kind of trouble his upcoming product launch was in, and then he was going to light up the fucking tracker he’d embedded in the countdown clock code and pay his little thief a visit. He chucked her jacket on the chair she’d sat in earlier that day, eyeing him warily over his coffee.
Unlike usual, McGee hadn’t cleared away the remnants of their breakfast or the Los Angeles Times, because Liam had made it clear that he and AJ didn’t wish to be disturbed.
Which was why, when Liam lifted the newspaper, he’d been expecting to find the ultra-slim, ultralight portable computer that he’d developed still on the table where he’d left it.
It wasn’t there.
And the sick feeling in his gut let him know exactly where it was.
Scratch that, exactly who it was with.
Well, fuck.
* * *
AJ crawled into the cab and gave the driver the address of the bar down the block from her place. Not much of a cover, but if Liam tried to track her down, at least he’d have to do more than bribe someone at the cab company.
Speaking of Liam...
She leaned forward and tugged his laptop out of the waistband of her jeans and placed the almost weightless silver rectangle on her lap. The Cybercore logo was etched into the top, and she traced her finger over it.
It had been stupid to take it, a whim as she’d passed by the table where he’d been reading the newspaper, where she’d eaten a chocolate croissant. Proof that she didn’t want what he was offering. Her version of burning the bridge on the way out of town so she couldn’t cross back in a moment of weakness.
She wasn’t sure what the hell had just happened back there, but it wasn’t sex. Not the sex she was used to.
Liam Kearney had made her feel things. And that wasn’t a euphemism for orgasm. She’d been empty for so long, just a void, operating on base instincts. When she was hungry, she ate. When she was horny, she fucked. She buried the rest of her emotions in work.
But tonight, she’d felt them all, inextricably bound up in the physical, until she couldn’t discern the difference between feeling happy and having an orgasm. And in her world, those were two distinct categories that shouldn’t ever cross paths. Fucking him was one thing, but liking him? Not okay.
AJ blinked against the sting of tears that prickled at the bridge of her nose.
No.
She didn’t owe him anything. Her loyalty was with Max, with Whitfield Industries. She’d lost sight of that. It was better that Liam knew exactly who he was dealing with. She was a thief. A hacker. And she worked alone.
And now she had the holy grail. The laptop of Cybercore’s CEO. With any luck, once she’d finessed her way past whatever booby traps he’d loaded onto it, she’d have free access to the specs for The Shield. She could check the coding of the original against the counterfeit.
Hell, she could check them both against the program that had been used to hack Whitfield Industries. Prove once and for all that he was the one who’d screwed up the launch of SecurePay.
Hackers left traces, even the good ones. You just had to know how to read it. Once she uploaded the fake version of The
Shield, she’d be in business. AJ reached for the inner pocket of her jacket and...realized she wasn’t wearing it.
Shit. She bolted upright, eyes searching the darkened back seat, as though she’d find it beside her. But she wouldn’t find it beside her. Because she hadn’t taken her jacket off in the cab. She’d taken it off hours ago...
Shit, shit, shit.
She looked out the back window like an idiot, as though they hadn’t been driving for ten minutes already. All she could see were other cars on the 110.
“You okay, lady?” the cabbie asked.
She was so. Very. Screwed. And not the good kind.
“You know what?” AJ flopped back against the well-worn seat. “I’ve been better.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LIAM STRAIGHTENED HIS tie as he stepped out of the elevator and into Cybercore’s head office. He’d slept like shit and had no luck with the tracker he’d planted in the countdown clock code. She’d wiped her phone clean, and she’d done a fucking good job of it, too, which meant finding her again was going to take longer than he wanted.
In addition to running a comparison between the real and knockoff versions of The Shield, he’d deployed every weapon in his arsenal—tracking his laptop, trying to reestablish the link with her phone, reexamining the way she’d hacked into his party, in case there were any clues there.
He’d known she was a threat the instant he’d realized someone had sneaked into his party, but he’d been thinking with his dick. Let himself be intrigued instead of wary. And when she’d shown up at the yacht...fuck. He’d been a fool to let his guard down.
“Good morning, sir. I wasn’t expecting you in until tomorrow.”
The familiar voice pulled him out of his dark musings, and he walked over to his executive assistant’s desk.
“Was there a problem with the yacht?” Krista asked.
Without conscious volition, he touched the left side of his suit, where he had the fake Shield tucked away in the interior breast pocket. He assured himself it was just to make sure it was still where he’d put it, and not because he couldn’t shake the feeling that letting AJ, if that was her real name, off that boat might have been the biggest mistake of his professional life.
“You could say that,” he answered cryptically, accepting the envelopes Krista held up for him, as was their morning custom. “Anything I need to know?”
“Henry Mitford got called away on business, so he had to cancel tomorrow’s meeting. The soonest I could reschedule it was next Monday, which he agreed to, and he asked that I tell you he’s looking forward to seeing you at his party on Friday. On that front, your tux is ready for pickup. Did you want me to send someone for it?”
Liam shook his head. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Also, Jesse Hastings of Soteria Security arrived about an hour ago to upgrade the four computers running the antivirus software that you’ve been testing. I gave him access to the three computers that were on-site and explained that you had your laptop with you. He’s in the boardroom now, finishing up.”
“Sounds good. I do have one question.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Am I paying you enough?”
Krista smiled. “I can promise you I wouldn’t be this efficient if you weren’t.”
“Excellent.” Liam slapped the envelopes against his hand and made his way to the boardroom.
He arrived to find Soteria Security’s second-in-command hunched over a laptop at the head of the oval table. “Jesse.”
“Liam. Good to see you.” The man stood, and they shook hands. “Krista said you were out of the office today.”
“My plans fell through. I’m sorry for the improvised setup. I didn’t know you were coming by.”
Jesse grinned. “Join the club. But Wes insisted I come take care of the updates right away. Between you and me, I think he wants to make a good impression.”
“I appreciate the attentive service.”
“You should see what we do for the companies who’ve signed with us.” Jesse closed the laptop on the table in front of him. “I did the two desktops in your testing lab, and I’m done with this one.” He pulled out a notebook and flipped through to the page he was looking for. “Wes said you had four computers with the antivirus installed?”
Liam nodded. “It’s on my laptop as well.”
“Cool. Well, now that you’re here, I’d be happy to install the update before I go.”
He forced himself to unclench his jaw. “I’m afraid I don’t have it with me.”
“Oh. Okay, no problem. Wes made it clear it’s important to get this updated as soon as possible. When do you think you might bring it in?”
For the second time that morning, Liam’s hand drifted automatically to his left breast pocket. He covered the tell by pretending to pick a piece of lint from his lapel.
“To be honest with you, Jesse, I have absolutely no idea.”
* * *
Liam was in a foul mood. He’d accomplished virtually nothing at the office today, aside from giving in to a near pathological need to monitor the progress of the programs he was running in his home office—still no lead on his sexy thief—and enumerating a list of all the ways that giving in to the intense sexual attraction with such a formidable rival had been the stupidest thing he could have done. He’d finally given up the pretense of working at five, ludicrously early, because he couldn’t concentrate on anything anyway.
The Ferrari hugged the final bend in the road, but as Liam approached his driveway, he noticed a lone figure, dressed all in black, leaning against one of the pillars that flanked his gate.
No fucking way.
His pulse echoed in his ears, like he’d taken a syringe of adrenaline to the heart.
Liam set his features into a more neutral expression as he glided the car to a stop in front of the wrought iron gate that guarded his driveway.
His trespasser pushed away from the stone support and walked toward the car.
The passenger-side window descended with the push of a button, and AJ leaned forward. She was wearing his Ray-Bans. “I just came for my jacket.”
He hated the surge of lust that assailed him despite the anger bubbling in his veins. Liam’s fists tightened around the steering wheel, and he reminded himself to breathe.
He hit the button that unlocked the door. “Get in.”
The order came out soft and low. She took off the sunglasses, but despite the mutinous look on her face, she did as she was bidden. AJ shoved his sunglasses in the pocket of her black hoodie as she slipped into the leather bucket seat, staring at him with critical eyes.
“You came for your jacket?” he asked silkily, reaching into his suit and placing the silver disc on the dashboard in front of her. He was vindicated by her slight flinch. “Or you came for what was inside your jacket?”
Her shrug wasn’t quite as disaffected as he assumed she’d been aiming for. “Both would be best.”
Ballsy. Even now.
“Neither is a more realistic expectation.”
He stared at her profile, and though she did an admirable job of keeping her expression disdainful, the slight flattening of her mouth let him know that she’d just come to a big decision. And she wasn’t happy about it.
She leaned forward, hiking up her sweatshirt in the back, producing a familiar silver rectangle. Ultra-slim. Ultralight. Ultrafast.
Rather than being relieved, all he could see was the curve of her back, the color of her skin.
She tugged her hoodie back into place and gestured toward the gate with his laptop. “Maybe we can negotiate once we’re inside?”
Now he was the one scoffing. “You think I want you anywhere near my house after what you did?”
She rolled her eyes. “Please. If I wanted to be inside your house, I’d be inside your house.”
“I’d love to see you try.”
He frowned as he realized that he meant it, that he was curious about her hacking style, wanted to watch her work.
She glanced over at him, and he hoped she hadn’t heard the truth in his words, and just assumed that it was a dismissal of her considerable skills.
“Give me your phone.”
“Forget it.”
He held his hand out. “It wasn’t a request.”
“You could at least ask nicely,” she chastised, shifting against the seat so she could tug it from her back pocket. There was venom in her eyes when she handed it over. “And you’re being paranoid. I’m not recording anything.”
He gave the phone a cursory check and powered it down before tucking it inside his suit, ignoring the way the warmth from her pocket seeped through his shirt. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t take your word on that.”
Liam grabbed the silver disc from the dashboard, palming it before he pressed his thumb to the panel he’d installed on the dash. The wrought iron gate swung out of the way as the screen recognized his thumbprint and he punched the gas, guiding the Ferrari up the long driveway toward the garage.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
AJ TIGHTENED HER grip on his computer, her heart racing wildly as they sped toward the garage. She knew he’d be furious at her arrival, but the change in him was staggering. Gone was the easy, laid-back charm of the man who’d plied her with expensive alcohol and flirted with devastating precision. She understood now how he’d taken the tech world by storm. He was good at lulling, at making you believe he was tame enough to pet, but a tiger lurked beneath the gregarious surface. One that might not want to rip your throat out, but would have no qualms about doing so should the situation require it.