“I didn’t hire you to be my bodyguard.”

It was obviously an inside job—and security expert Campbell Steele figured he’d have to get very close to his new client—CEO Abigail McBane—to uncover the traitor. But when an electronic blip led to a bullet, he had to move fast….

Suddenly the commitment-shy expert is posing as Abby’s lover and jetting off to a conference in Paris. The city of lovers should be the perfect cover to trap the enemy. As the stakes keep rising, they soon realize it isn’t just her company the traitor wants, but Abby herself. And Campbell isn’t about to lose what he’s claimed as his own….

“I’m not leaving tonight.”

Abby whipped around to face Campbell. “You can’t stay here.”

“I can and I will. I’ll sleep on the couch if you don’t have enough room.”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s not decent.”

“What’s not decent? I’m a friend of the family.” The tension he’d been carrying relaxed in the face of her protest. “Besides, what do you think we’ll be doing for the next week in Paris?”

“Working.”

“Sharing a home.”

“That’s a setup. This is real.”

At her use of the word real, a different sort of tension returned, desperate for release.

“You think so?” Before she could reply, he moved close to her, his hands on her hips as he pulled her into his arms. By the way she tumbled into him, clearly he’d caught her off guard.

Never one to miss an opportunity, Campbell leaned in and took.

House of Steele: Danger is their legacy. Love is their destiny.

Dear Reader,

I’m thrilled to introduce you to the world of the Steele siblings. Liam, Campbell, Kensington and Rowan established their company—The House of Steele—as a resource for wealthy clients the world over. As they fondly think of their offering—they can find anything, fix anything…or break anything.

In The Paris Assignment, sexy computer geek Campbell Steele is paired with beautiful CEO Abigail McBane. Abby’s dealing with a problem deeply rooted in her communications company and as she heads to Paris for her annual board meetings, knows she needs help dealing with the nameless, faceless threat who has infiltrated her technology and has the ability to ruin all she’s built.

What she believes to be solely a professional problem quickly spills over to her private life as she and Campbell discover her assailant has a very personal motive for doing her harm, even as he’s targeted her company’s upcoming launch of three new satellites into orbit.

The Paris Assignment is my first book for Harlequin and it’s absolutely a dream come true for me. I’ve read the Harlequin Romantic Suspense line for years and count the books from the line among many of my absolute favorite reads. I can only hope The Paris Assignment adds to the rich legacy of Harlequin Romantic Suspense stories and finds its way into your hearts.

Best,

Addison Fox

The Paris Assignment

Addison Fox

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ADDISON FOX

is a Philadelphia girl transplanted to Dallas, Texas. Although her similarities to Grace Kelly stop at sharing the same place of birth, she’s often dreamed of marrying a prince and living along the Mediterranean.

In the meantime, she’s more than happy penning romance novels about two strong-willed and exciting people who deserve their happy ever after—after she makes them work so hard for it, of course. When she’s not writing, she can be found spending time with family and friends, reading or enjoying a glass of wine.

Find out more about Addison or contact her at her website—www.addisonfox.com—or catch up with her on Facebook (addisonfoxauthor) and Twitter (@addisonfox).

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For Eric

The brother I always wanted.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Epilogue

Excerpt

Chapter 1

“We’re not taking this job.”

Campbell Steele stared at the travel itinerary in his sister’s outstretched hand and wondered—not for the first time—how a self-proclaimed computer geek like himself had morphed into an undercover operative. He liked a good adventure as much as the next guy, but nearly eighteen months straight on the road with an array of jobs that boggled the imagination with human depravity was getting old.

Real old.

The success of House of Steele had surpassed every expectation he and his siblings had when they established the firm three years before and the latest assignment—a babysitting job for a rich heiress—wasn’t high on his list of priorities. “I’ve made my feelings more than clear.”

“And you know my feelings on work. We take it when it comes.”

He made a valiant attempt to stare his sister down and failed miserably. “You look like Grandmother when you get all uppity like that.” As an insult it was horrifically low, but the narrowing of Kensington’s gaze had the desired effect.

“Here are your tickets. You’ll meet Abigail McBane here in New York and then fly with her to Paris tomorrow evening.”

“Because some disgruntled employee keeps sending her nasty emails? There’s nothing in this for us, Kenzi. Her security folks should be able to uncover something as routine as this.”

“There’s plenty in this and Abby doesn’t want this going through her corporate folks. That’s why she contacted us.”

“At least be honest with me. You’re doing this as a favor for a friend, not because it makes good business sense. I could be helping Liam on that job in London or Rowan figure out her Chicago museum problem. Both need some serious electronics work.”

“I’ve got them covered. Now.” Kensington pointed toward the TV mounted on the far wall of her office as a series of photos came up. “McBane Communications had a seven-minute security breach two days ago when their entire satellite system was unreachable from their central command. None of her experts could get remotely into the system while it was happening. Nor could Abby and her electronic skills are rock-solid.”

Campbell took in the images that flashed on the screen before coming to rest on Abigail McBane. She stood in front of a large backdrop, obviously speaking to an audience, her slender frame clad in a fitted business suit and sky-high heels. A lush fall of dark hair fell down her back while wide-set chocolate-brown eyes lit up her expressive face.

The entire package screamed professional and competent, yet innately feminine and he couldn’t quite pull his gaze away fast enough.

“She’s a beautiful woman.”

Since Kensington always saw too much, Campbell deliberately turned away from the screen. “What else?”

“Did I mention her top security team can’t find the breach?”

“Inside job?” The question came out, despite his best intentions to stay uninterested.

“Not on the surface. That’s what’s not jibing for her.”

Campbell moved closer to the TV, the images pulling him like a lodestone. The damned Steele curiosity, he knew, even as he turned back to look at his sister. “They’ve got military-grade security. How else would someone get in? It’s got to be an inside job.”

Kensington’s gaze was laser-sharp, the frank assessment behind her cobalt-blue eyes direct and unyielding. “Maybe yes, maybe no. We both know not everyone can be stopped with a firewall, even ones supposedly as impenetrable as McBane’s. Or the government’s,” Kensington added for emphasis.

Campbell ignored the not-so-thinly-veiled jab at his youthful—and idiot-fueled—choices. “Seven minutes?”

“Yep.”

“And her systems people have checked the code?”

“Forward and backward and there’s no trace of tampering, viruses or remote entrance.”

“She’s got a ghost.” Campbell knew the level of skills required for a job of this magnitude belonged to a handful of people. He ran through his mental list, discarding names as he went.

“Which is why she needs another ghost. One not employed by the company.”

“There are traces. Somewhere, there’s evidence in the system of where someone tampered with it. You can’t divert that much equipment without leaving a mark.”

“Exactly, Campbell. This isn’t just me wanting to take this job for a friend.” He saw the subtle pleading in his sister’s eyes and wondered why she hadn’t just started there in the first place.

He might enjoy riling her up and giving Kensington a hard time, but there was no one’s opinion he respected more. “Fair enough.”

“You’re the only one who can find this problem.”

He might not be the only one, but he knew damn well he was one of the few who had the skills to match a foe with this degree of systems knowledge.

He also knew Kensington’s considerable instincts had hit on something.

So why was he still so reluctant to take the job?

He couldn’t fully blame it on lack of sleep or a backbreaking schedule that invigorated even as it pushed him to his limits and beyond. Nor could he blame it on the lingering unease that never failed to tighten his chest when he thought about the threat that had methodically stalked and baited Sarah.

So what was it?

A security breach, conducted through electronic means and across a company with the size and scope of McBane’s, was squarely in his wheelhouse.

Kensington pointed toward the travel itinerary in his hand. He saw the briefest flash of sympathy light up her eyes before it vanished as if it had never been. “Get your game face on. You need to be there in an hour. Forty-five minutes if you want a good seat.”

Campbell glanced at his watch and quickly calculated the crosstown traffic between their offices and the Midtown high rise owned by McBane Communications. “It’s just a press conference. I’ll stand in the back. There’s no rush to get there.”

“I couldn’t care less where you plant your petulant ass. Just get going. Find the bad guy and keep an eye on Abby in the process. Do what we do best.”

* * *

Abby McBane watched her key staff members file out of her office, a well of suspicion hovering in their wake.

Was one of them responsible?

One of these individuals—all of whom she’d known for years. People she’d worked with. Shared holidays with. Traveled and ate with.

They’d all participated actively in their pre-press conference prep session and none seemed different. If anything, Abby knew, she was the one who seemed off, scrutinizing each and every one of them as she attempted to discern a traitor.

She glanced at her inbox and fought to maintain a spirit of hope that had been steadfastly missing the past few weeks. Only time would tell.

With a small sigh—one of the few she’d allow herself today—she turned back toward her email. A quick scan of her messages had her gaze alighting on a familiar name.

Kensington Steele. College roommate and the first person who made her realize she had more to offer the world than a smiling face and her family pedigree.

Abby clicked on the message, not surprised with the news.

He’ll be there.

Of course he would be. Kensington always got her man, from a series of hot and interesting boyfriends to capturing a surprising number of criminals to getting her reportedly stubborn brothers to do her bidding.

Her friend could kick the ass of the male of their species and have each and every one of them begging for more.

Why’d you stop taking lessons, Abby girl?

Deleting the message and tamping firmly down on those whispers of self-doubt, Abby grabbed her tablet and flipped through her slides for the press conference. The words floated through her mind as she pictured the various inflection points, the moments she’d pause and where she’d push through the dense information.

Her computer dinged like the final-round bell in a prize fight, signaling it was time for the meeting. She stood and smoothed her skirt, the tablet in hand and her stilettos sinking into the plush carpet as she crossed to the door.

Time to face the music.

Even if she had no freaking idea who was playing the tune.

* * *

Do what we do best.

Kensington’s words still echoed in his ear as Campbell took a seat in the large auditorium that would house Abigail McBane’s press conference. Despite his protests to his sister, he’d arrived early and taken a seat near the front, his long legs stretched out in front of him as he took in the room.

The turnout was considerable, a mix of press and Wall Street analyst types all anxious to hear the next big thing in communications technology.

While he’d moderately enjoyed baiting Kenzi, he’d done his homework, just as he did for every job they took on. McBane Communications was a global leader in satellite and communications technology. The daughter of the founder, Abigail McBane was reported to be cool under pressure and a highly competent executive.

Which meant she must be seriously running scared if she’d go outside her own security team—individuals who’d been vetted and background-checked—to come to Kensington for help.

A light hush fell over the room as Abby and her team crossed the stage to the podium. He mentally catalogued the line of executives that walked with her—men and women clad in highly conservative business attire—before taking in the woman everyone had come to see.

Abigail McBane.

That same fall of dark hair he’d noticed while in Kensington’s office looked even lusher in person and high cheekbones framed her face with distinction. The V of her jacket revealed a smooth neckline displaying a simple strand of pearls. She was elegant and efficient, beautiful and businesslike.

And when she took a spot behind the podium, Campbell briefly registered a moment of sadness that the spectacular legs on display under the severe cut of her skirt were now hidden.

Just as well, he admonished himself. Between his unexpected resentment over the job and the quick lick of attraction that rode the back of his neck, he needed to get his head in the game.

He glanced down at the slim tablet on his lap, flipping through a few screens of data that matched the opening of Abby’s speech. When he’d checked in, the corporate drone who’d greeted him had offered a folder of data or a secure site to download the presentation. Intrigued at the depth of preparation, he’d taken the electronic version and used the download code as his entrée into the McBane portal to do some nosing around.

Pleased when several layers of security prevented him from digging further, he admitted their surface protocol was as impressive as he’d expected.

“Which is why our new series of satellites, scheduled to enter orbit in the next quarter, will enable the next layer of consumer technology.” Campbell allowed his attention to drift back toward the stage. Abby deftly moved the presentation through several slides, addressing the room with a presence that was as impressive as it was sharp.

He watched heads nod around him and caught the heated excitement of two people next to him as Abby wrapped up the presentation with the implications for the telecommunications industry. Hands flew up and questions buzzed from the floor as she moved into Q and A.

Again, he marveled at her smooth answers as question after question flew her way. From her impressions on the implications to wireless providers to an explanation of how each satellite would orbit Earth, there was nothing she couldn’t answer. No topic she couldn’t speak to with ease.

It was hot as hell, this incredible package of brains and beauty. Campbell felt his attention narrowing on the woman at the podium until a question from the back of the room pulled him from his thoughts.

“Ms. McBane. There are rumors you had a recent security breach of your satellites. Could you explain what that was about?”

The flash of anger in her eyes was brief—he’d have missed it if he weren’t watching her so closely—but it was there all the same. “We have regular maintenance on all of our systems on a daily basis. It’s routine to manage and repair any and all attempted breaches on our security, as anyone in our industry is well aware of. Hackers don’t sleep.”

“Yes, but there’s a difference between offense and defense. Did you not recently deal defensively with a security breach of McBane Communications?”

Campbell turned in his seat to the smug reporter in the back of the room asking the question. Whispers and murmurs echoed through the room at the man’s persistence.

“We have reviewed all of our existing security protocols and found no breaches into or out of our systems.”

Campbell knew the response was technically true—the mysterious seven minutes hadn’t yet been tied to any formal breach, per Kenzi’s intel—but the damage had already been done. Hands were up and people were clamoring with questions, but she drew the presentation to a close.

“Your packets contain all of today’s meeting materials. Thank you for joining us.” Abby left the stage in reverse order of her arrival, the various members of her team following in single file.

Campbell didn’t miss the hard set of her shoulders or the steady clip of her heels as she walked out of sight.

* * *

“Damn, damn, damn.” Abby dropped her head in her hands as she stared at her laptop screen. Her head of PR had already emailed her with the name of the reporter who’d asked the question about McBane security, confirming what she already knew.

Dan Porterfield was a nuisance, but he was damn good at his job.

So who the hell had told him about the seven minutes? The information was on lockdown until they could figure out what had happened and the few members of her team who did know held positions of trust in her organization.

Could the one responsible have leaked the information?

And what the hell was she really dealing with?

Her phone rang and she snatched it up as her admin’s name registered on the display. “Your three o’clock is here to see you. A Mr. Campbell Steele?”

Kensington’s brother.

“Thanks, Stef. You can send him in.”

With one last look at her computer screen, Abby tapped out a brief set of instructions that the party line to Dan or anyone else who asked was the same. There was no breach and there were no problems with their firewalls. “McBane Communications maintains the highest standards and layers of industry-leading technology,” she muttered to herself as she finished typing the email.

Even if the sentiment didn’t sit all that well with her—she was worried enough to call in an outside firm—they technically hadn’t found anything newsworthy.

The door opened and Stef gestured the man through, before closing the door with a light click. Abby crossed the office toward him and took in a sharper-than-normal intake of breath as she stared up into a pair of blazing blue eyes.

“Mr. Steele?”

A smile that was too sweet to be fully cocky lit up the hard planes of his jaw. He extended a hand and she caught the briefest glimpse of long fingers and a broad palm before his hand clasped hers. “Campbell. Please.”

Heat lit up her nerve endings, the sensation completely at odds with the purpose of his visit. She’d seen photos of him before, but nothing two-dimensional could have prepared her for this reaction. “Abby McBane. It’s so good of you to come. Would you like anything? Coffee? Water?”

“Water’s fine.”

She retrieved a bottle for each of them before gesturing him toward the bank of couches on the far side of her office.

The urge to take the seat behind her desk and put some distance between them was strong, but the very fact she wanted to do that had her choosing the opposite.

The brief walk also gave her an opportunity to examine Kensington’s brother. She’d met the oldest, Liam, once before, but never Campbell and she marveled at the distinct differences between the two men. While no one would miss the resemblance as brothers, Liam had a suave charm that was heady when fully turned on. Campbell had a more subtle attractiveness.

His frame was leaner and if she hadn’t felt the strong grip of his hand she might have been tempted to call him skinny.

The memory of that masculine grip had her amending that assessment to lean and rangy as they took a seat on the couch. She watched him shrug out of his jacket and had to acknowledge he was deceptively larger than her first impression, his broad shoulders filling out his button-down shirt.

Oblivious to her assessment, he leaned forward, his hands clasped between his knees. Abby didn’t miss the way his dress shirt stretched to accommodate his movement.

Nope, nothing skinny about him.

“My sister filled me in on your circumstances, but I’d like to hear it from your perspective. Especially since it was obvious the question during the press conference caught you off guard.”

Abby took a deep breath. “I handled Porterfield’s question.”

“Yes, you did. Doesn’t change the fact that he asked it.”

“No. No, it doesn’t.”

“So why am I here? From your perspective.”

“McBane Communications has several satellites in various stages of deployment, development and design. Per today’s press conference, our latest designs are nearing the end of production and will be operational in less than ninety days.”

“Anyone who wants to stop that from happening?”

The decidedly sensual thoughts she’d not been able to shake when looking at him faded at the problems facing her company. “I’ve got a select group of competitors and my competition is stiffer than most. The race for the latest modernizations has implications across the telecom industry.”

“You think it’s another provider?”

She shook her head. “The signature...isn’t identifiable.”

“Signature?” Interest blazed in the depths of his gaze and she felt herself drawn forward at his focus. Most—even members of her own team—tended toward a glazed look when she got going in the inner workings of her business, but Campbell seemed fully engaged.

Tamping the rush of interest that barreled through her own veins, she tried to focus on the point at hand. “Most major providers have a series of protocols in place. Checks and balances in their systems that make it incredibly hard to do anything undetectable. The sheer invisibility of whatever this was—”

“A breach.”

She winced at that, more than willing to drop her poker face. “I’m not ready to concede to that word. But to the original question, another telecom provider just doesn’t ring true for me.”

Abby watched as a series of emotions played across his face. Underlying all of it was that ready curiosity and sheer inquisitiveness that was intriguing. “So not a competitor. Anyone else who’d like to see you fail?”

She couldn’t hold back the small laugh. “I’m sure there are several.”

“Yes, but any of them who has a real reason to do you harm?”

The casual, almost sweet air she’d originally perceived was gone, replaced by a hard man without a trace of humor on his face. The lightning-quick change was as surprising as its source and she sat back and tried to parse out her whirling thoughts.

She knew Kensington Steele—had known her for over a decade—and had met much of the woman’s eclectic family. Her Scottish-Irish grandmother and dyed-in-the-wool British grandfather knew how to leave a delightful—and altogether unique—impression and their smart, interesting and savvy grandchildren followed suit.

But she’d never met Campbell.

There had been whispers of trouble. Nothing that went public, but Kensington had hinted that her brother was too smart for his own good.

Was that the root of his computer abilities? And his very quick leap to overt threats to her and her business?

Add on the fact that he was the one assigned to her problem—a problem that originated in the rarified universe of computer security—and she couldn’t help but wonder if Campbell Steele was the equivalent of fighting fire with fire.

* * *

Campbell didn’t miss the assessing glances of the oh-so-intriguing Ms. Abigail McBane. He’d sensed a sharp, discerning businesswoman throughout her presentation at the press conference, but the woman seated opposite him was an intriguing mix of qualities.

Shrewd, yet perfectly willing to lay a few cards on the table. Smart, in a way that was approachable instead of stuffy and irritating. And very, very beautiful.

He’d been a student of many things through the years, game theory riding high on his list of interests. The choices someone made through a negotiation—and the implications of those choices—had always fascinated him. The average person thought of a negotiation as something simply to win, but the truly adept negotiators—the ones who most often got what they wanted—understood that it took some measure of give and take to net out in an acceptable place.

Abby was honest with her analysis and had also been more than willing to share it with him. So what was her bigger game?

And who was the nameless, faceless threat?

“I can’t imagine anyone wants to hurt my business. Or me,” she voiced the afterthought, in direct opposition to her drawn brows and slight frown.

“Yet you’re sitting on a significant problem in your technology infrastructure. A problem—” he leaned forward for emphasis “—that has possible personal overtones.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Why else are you looking for a resource outside your company to fix it? You clearly don’t trust the people who work for you and have access to that technology.”

The dark depths of her eyes clouded over with a noticeable layer of fear and Campbell inwardly cursed himself for his hasty words.

Damn it.

His brother, Liam, was the smooth one, not him. Why the hell had Kensington sent him into this job in the first place?

Despite his best intentions, Campbell knew his own personality swung more often to blunt instrument than suave operator. And now he’d gone and scared their client, five minutes into their first conversation.

“My sister often accuses me of being so narrowly focused on my goals, my manners suffer. I think this is one of those times.” Campbell sat back, settling into the plush leather of the couch. “Why don’t we start at the beginning and you tell me in your own words what you think is happening and why you felt the need to call us.”

Campbell saw her visibly relax and he felt his own stomach muscles unclench a bit. Damn, but Kensington was right.

As usual.

His rush to solve a problem usually meant a polite facade and any lick of charm he might possess were nowhere in evidence. And if he peeled back the layers of the woman opposite him, it was clear she was more scared than she was letting on.

“Do you mean Kensington or your other sister, Rowan?”

Campbell couldn’t hold back the grin. “Both of them, really. But I was actually referring to Kenzi. She’s accused me of being the proverbial bull in the china shop on more than one occasion.”

Abby—and that was the name he was fast coming to think of her by—cocked her head. “Oh, I don’t know. You seem to be a man who simply likes to get things done. There’s something innately practical and efficient about that.”

“So now I’m a vacuum cleaner?”

A light flush crept up her neck. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

He shrugged. “I’ve been called worse.”

“Well, I count practicality and efficiency as virtues to be celebrated, so please consider it a compliment.” She took a deep breath, the light fall of her blouse fluttering around her breasts. “No matter how poorly given.”

“Why don’t we call it even and start over again.” He leaned forward and extended a hand. “I’m Campbell Steele. It’s nice to meet you.”

She flashed a quick grin before extending her hand. “Abigail McBane. And likewise.”

The feel of her hand in his registered somewhere in the middle of his chest with a hard swift punch as her palm rested against his.

Her deep dark eyes grew wide for the briefest moment before he let her hand go and Abby exhaled on a heavy breath before she sat back. “Okay. The beginning. As you no doubt know, modern business depends on the integrity of the services we provide.”

“As does modern government, modern education and pretty much every other industry you can name in the technology-laden world we live in.”

“Exactly.” She nodded. “So to the point I made in the press conference, we maintain a very strict set of procedures for ongoing checks of our systems.”

“Are the mysterious seven minutes the only breach?”

“Not exactly.”

“You’ve had other problems here at McBane?”

A light flush crept up her neck. “Not exactly.”

“Abby. What’s going on?”

“I’ve had several attacks on my home system.”

Whatever Campbell expected her to say, that answer wasn’t it. “Your home? As in personal threats.”

“Nothing as overt as a threat. Just problems. Inconsistencies. And a whole lot of attacks on my firewalls. I maintain government-level security on my home systems.”

“How long has this been happening?”

“A few weeks. A month, maybe.”

“Well, what is it? A few weeks or a month?”

“The first thing I noticed was about five weeks ago.”

He shook his head, unable to believe it had taken her so long to do anything. “Why’d you wait so long to call us?”

The slight flush of embarrassment flipped to irritation in the blink of an eye. “I know how to manage my own affairs. I called your firm for another opinion. Kensington indicated you could look at our systems.”

“That’s my first priority but my sister led me to believe you need more than another opinion. I’ve got tickets to fly with you to Paris tomorrow.”

“Yes, well, that was a bit premature.”

Campbell stood and paced the office, the sudden wave of panic in his limbs forcing him to walk. He wasn’t easily panicked, but he was well aware something that had escalated to her home was a different sort of threat.

It was personal.

The city spread out before his gaze at the window. He turned around, determined to make his point. And despite his earlier protests to his sister, suddenly very determined to get Abby to take on House of Steele to deal with her faceless threat.

“I don’t think there’s anything premature about it, Abby.” He crossed back to her, ready to sit and attempt to make his case when she stood, meeting him eye to eye.

Or as close as she could get to eye to eye.

Even with heels, her tall frame didn’t match his own six foot two.

“I’m assessing your capabilities.”

“Like hell you are.” Campbell knew he had a competitive streak to rival an Olympic athlete’s, but her words had him seeing red. Add on the image of her scared and in danger from some psycho and his emotions were far more raw than he’d have expected. “I can run circles around any problem you have. And for the record—” he leaned forward, unable to keep the disgust from his tone “—I’m not here to try out.”

Chapter 2

Abby had heard the term “baiting the bear in his den” before—had even experienced it from time to time in difficult negotiations—but the tension that radiated from Campbell gave new meaning to the old adage.

With the focus she’d honed through years of boardroom negotiation, she pressed on and avoided thinking about how interesting it was to stare up into his eyes. “As I told Kensington, I’ve no doubt you’re good, but the team I have in place includes some of the brightest minds in the world.”

“And what if the problem is coming from within your organization? From one of those bright minds?”

“I’m well aware that’s a possibility, but it still doesn’t mean you’re the solution to my problem.”

She saw the light of battle leap into his eyes. “I don’t think you’ve got a better option.”

“There are always options.”

“Actually, darling, I think you’re out of them.”

The “darling” had her snapping her mouth closed before she pressed on with the first words that popped into her mind. “I thought you were the mild-mannered one.”

Although the sentiment wasn’t all that polite, Abby was surprised by the hard bark of laughter that followed his raised eyebrows. “You’ve met my brother, I take it?”

“A few times.”

“Liam’s honed the dark and brooding routine to a perfect fit.”

Abby thought about the large, imposing man who held a James Bond sort of sexiness to his demeanor and couldn’t quite shake the impression that Campbell had been sorely underestimated if they gave his brother more credit. “You’re no slouch. I’ve been in business long enough to know mild-mannered can be a rather effective strategy.”

His smile was back but it bore the distinct notes of family baggage and sibling rivalry. “I’m well aware I have to work a bit harder.”

As an only child, she was endlessly fascinated by family dynamics and the ways siblings related to and communicated with each other. Support and resentment, love and frustration and always—always—a fierce sense of devotion.

If she weren’t mistaken, Campbell’s responses about Liam held a lifetime of feelings toward his brother, from genuine affection to a dose of competition with a small dash of big brother hero worship on the side.

She dropped back into her seat, satisfied when he followed suit. Perhaps the clouds of battle had blown over.

With a firm voice, she tried once again to make her point. She’d always found that calm voice soothed a rowdy business meeting or a loud press conference, but, strangely enough, it hadn’t been all that effective in soothing her nerves of late.

“My take away from my conversation with Kensington was that you’d come over here and evaluate my situation.”

“Consider yourself evaluated.”

His words—were they intentional?—had her fumbling briefly to stay on track. Perhaps she’d been too hasty in thinking the man lagged behind his brother. Where their approaches may be different, both men had a ready sort of charm that made a woman well aware she was being watched.

“Kensington leaped to the plane tickets?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not sure why.”

“I’d trust her instincts.”

Abby tried a new tactic, willing the man to see reason. “Look. I’ve known your sister a long time. She’s just being overprotective of an old friend.”

“Since she has the irritating habit of never being wrong, I’d get on board with those instincts.”

“Mine aren’t too shabby, either.” The quiet voice inside that had been questioning those instincts rose up to argue, dancing through the back of her mind on swift feet.

Why was she resisting the help?

Especially when it came from someone who was capable of understanding her business at its most basic level.

“I’m sure they’re not. Which is why I can already see you relenting and agreeing to bring me on this project.”

Abby held back the sigh, unwilling to give up any more ground than necessary, even as she admitted he was in the right. “Okay. Let’s assume I’m in agreement with your capabilities. How do you propose to deal with this...situation? Kensington said she’d leave specifics up to you.”

“I spent some time assessing your systems.”

She glanced at the slim, high-tech tablet in his hands, a match for her own. “When?”

“During the press conference. Your firewalls are good.”

“You tried to hack into my system during the press conference?”

“Yes.”

His expression was so bland—so devoid of any bit of remorse—she had to take a quick breath. “Why the hell did you do that?”

“Why not? I’m here to find problems, aren’t I?”

“Yes, but...” She felt herself sputtering to a halt. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“Do you think your competition is resting?”

“No.”

“So I wanted to see what we’re up against.” He lifted the tablet with a slight wave. “Your security is good.”

“Oh, thank you.”

He tapped the screen of his device without looking up. “I heard those delightful overtones of sarcasm and snark.”

“I meant you to.”

He handed her the tablet and Abby was struck by the heat of his body that still warmed the metal frame. The brief moment of intimacy ran a line of shivers down her spine and she tried to shake it off.

“Look there.” He leaned closer and pointed to a series of images on the screen, the same heat she felt warming the device now in imminent proximity to her body.

She pushed thoughts of heat and broad shoulders from her mind and nodded at the layers of commands and computer code that were as familiar to her as reading English. “The system’s secure.”

“Which means your seven-minute man got in a different way.”

She sat back and gave the screen of the tablet one last glance before she met his gaze. “Why do you think it’s a man?”

“A vague sense. And it doesn’t mean I’m ruling anyone out at this point.”

“Anything beyond that?”

“There aren’t a lot of people who can pull something like this off. And while there have been some very successful female hackers, women generally aren’t drawn to hacking like men are.”

“Women have better things to do with their time?”

“Something like that. Add in a driving sense of anarchy and men have a strange affinity to the field.”

“You seem to know a lot about it.”

The ready smile and easygoing nature vanished. “I’ve had my career ups and downs.”

* * *

Campbell had spent very little time thinking about past sins, but they weighed around his neck under the intensity of Abby’s gaze.

He knew women talked and it would be stupid of him not to think Kensington hadn’t shared some of his past exploits with her good friend. But even his sister didn’t know the full depths of his past choices.

Only Grandfather had a real sense of what he’d done.

“I know there’s a short list of individuals who have this type of skill. Does that mean I can rule out my staff?”

“Afraid not. In addition to creating a mess, anarchists have a rather sizeable affinity for mercenary jobs.”

He saw her agile mind click through the implications of a mercenary-for-hire and the hope that her trusted colleagues weren’t involved faded from her eyes. “So it just got more complicated. Not only are we looking for a responsible party, but we’re also looking for the money.”

“Yep.”

“Well, Mr. Steele. It looks like I stand convinced. Consider yourself hired.”

“Campbell.”

She nodded. “Campbell.”

“I understand your annual board meetings are in Paris this week. Any chance I can convince you to postpone them?”

“I’m not canceling them.”

“Postpone, not cancel. Just for a few weeks until we have a sense of what you’re really dealing with.”

“I won’t run in fear and I won’t change my plans. We’ve got serious business to discuss.”

Whatever fear he’d sensed in her gaze vanished at the implications she should pull back on her business. Campbell turned it over in his mind, again fascinated by just how sexy she was with this intriguing mix of beauty, brains and drive.

He’d always been attracted to strong women, having been raised around a group of females who could more than hold their own. He didn’t care for weak people—regardless of gender—but he’d never understood men who found strong women a threat.

Campbell had always believed a smart woman was more than worth his time and interest.

Besides, what fun was life without a little challenge?

“Since you won’t postpone them, it looks like you’ve got a travel buddy. It’s a good thing I’ve already got my tickets.”

“That’s not necessary. You can do the job from here. Computer issues aren’t location-specific.”

“You don’t want me along?”

“I don’t want to put you out.”

“A trip to the City of Lights is hardly being put out. Besides, the technology might not be location-specific, but your problem is centered with an individual. I’m not just digging into your computers, I’m digging into your team.”

“Campbell. These people aren’t just colleagues. They’re friends. I’ve known them for years. You can’t come in and start poking around. All of them are senior experts in their field and they’ll suss out an investigation in a heartbeat. If—and that’s a big if—one of them is responsible, he or she will be in the wind before you can blink.”

“Not if I beat them at their own game.”

He saw it the moment the words hit their mark, those lush brown eyes narrowing under the sleek arch of her eyebrows. “What are you suggesting?”

“The best hacks are a result of a whole lot of preplanning.”

“Social engineering the con. I’m familiar with it, Campbell. The mark is identified and a whole host of information is secured in advance before a single piece of technology is breached, like phishing scams for passwords.”

Once again, Campbell had to admire her agile mind and deep grasp of her business. He’d worked with some of the best and brightest and few had such an immediate and intuitive understanding of the things he rambled off when setting up an investigation.

Pulling his thoughts back to the problem at hand and off of Abby McBane’s perceptive gaze, he continued. “Let’s assume that’s happened. Our hacker has manipulated a password or a key piece of data out of someone.”

“Who? My staff knows they can’t share that information. Even if they were attempting to be malicious, their actions within this building are monitored. Anything they do with a piece of technology equipment from this company is monitored.”

“Just because someone’s monitored doesn’t mean your senior team had to give up the information. A lower-level person could have inadvertently allowed the break-in. That’s what we have to find.”

“I’ve got over twenty thousand employees. I realize we could likely narrow down a group of suspects, but the breach could be anywhere.”

“Which is why we’re going to social engineer a little con of our own.”

Confusion and curiosity combined in equal mix across Abby’s face. “And what do you propose?”

He wasn’t sure where the idea came from, but the moment the words were out, Campbell knew it was the exact right course of action. “You’re looking at your brand-new boyfriend.”

* * *

“No way. Absolutely not.”

“Come on, it’s the perfect cover.”

“It’s so not the perfect cover.” Abby stood to pace, unable to sit still any longer.

“Come on, Abby. As a cover, it’s ideal. People will grant a dewy-eyed couple, wrapped up in a fresh, brand-spanking-new haze of passion quite a bit of leeway.”

She came to a halt at his words. “We’re not brand-new or spanking.”

A light flush crept up her neck at the obvious gaffe, especially as a decidedly naughty twinkle lit up Campbell’s gorgeous blue gaze. “You know what I meant.”

“I think I do but maybe you can give me a few pointers.”

Abby crossed to her desk, eager to escape the sudden shot of sexual tension that gripped the room. Although her initial reaction to his idea was less than positive, his scheme actually had quite a bit of merit. Presenting a social front to her team would give Campbell the leeway to investigate behind a legitimate cover. Add on the idea of having an ally with her for the week of meetings in Paris—both with the board as well as with her key European management team—and she couldn’t quite shake the sense of relief that she wouldn’t be facing it all alone.

“Do you really think this will work?”

Campbell stood and crossed the room. Try as she might, she couldn’t keep her gaze from following the long lines of his body or the competence that sat on his shoulders. “It’s the cover we need to find who’s doing this to you. And it will give me access in a way no one will dispute.”

A light knock on the door broke the moment and Abby turned to see Stef opening the door and poking her head into the room. “I’m sorry to interrupt but you’ve got one more meeting this afternoon and your dress came for the benefit.” Stef held a garment bag high.

“Thanks. Mr. Steele is actually joining me for the benefit this evening. If you could give him the details.”

Her stalwart assistant simply nodded, as if Abby brought last-minute dates to every event. “I’ll have the details for you when you leave. I’ll just need your address, Mr. Steele, and we’ll get the car service rerouted to pick you up.”

Whatever surprise Campbell might have had was masked behind that ever-present smile that managed to be an intriguing mix of endearing and sexy as Stef turned on her heel and walked out.

As soon as the door closed, he added one raised eyebrow to the mix. “Your date this evening? I assume this means you’re fully on board?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Then I’ve only got one question.”

“What’s that?”

Campbell moved up and took her hand in his. The moment his fingers brushed over her wrist her stomach cratered as heat flooded her entire body. “How did we meet, darling?”

* * *

Abby struggled to keep a hold on her emotions three hours later as her limo glided down Fifth Avenue toward Campbell’s home in the West Village. Her stomach had continued its weird gymnastics routine since that brief moment in her office when he’d held her hand and try as she might, she couldn’t get her emotions in check.

What was it about the man? He was attractive, certainly. And she was a healthy, single red-blooded woman who could appreciate a man with a strong intellect and a ready self-assurance that was confident without being overbearing.

But it was something else.

Like a good old-fashioned dose of sexual attraction, her inner voice piped up as she stared out the window. With the unfailing honesty she was known for—especially when it came from within—she acknowledged the sentiment. And then went to work debunking whatever insanity had gripped her since he walked into her office.

Campbell Steele was an enticing package. Altogether too enticing, she quickly admonished herself. And, as of this afternoon when she’d signed off on the contract Kensington had sent over, he was also an employee.

“So get a freaking grip,” she whispered to herself and turned toward the window in an effort to quell the feel of her hand enclosed in his.

The lights of Washington Square Park and the George Washington Arch filled up the early fall dusk as her driver took a right onto Waverly. The neighborhood was known for its effortless blend of old townhomes and bohemian apartments and she held no small measure of surprise when the car pulled up along one of the townhomes that ringed Washington Square Park.

She’d have pegged Campbell for the bohemian apartment, for sure.

Of course, the debonair man swathed in a custom-fit tuxedo standing on the front steps went a long way toward assuaging that thought. The nerves that had accompanied her trip downtown took off on another flight through her stomach, but this time they were paired with a dose of anticipation as he beat the driver to the car door.

Campbell slid his long frame into the limo, the fading evidence of a shower curling his slightly damp hair at his nape as he shifted toward her on the bench seat. The driver had the door closed and the light winked off overhead as Campbell’s leg brushed against hers.

“You look beautiful.”

That anticipation morphed another determined step toward infatuation as she allowed her gaze to settle on his mouth. “And you look very handsome. Not the bohemian I’d taken you for.”

His lips quirked into a slow smile. “What?”

“When the driver mentioned we were headed to the West Village, I pegged you as the resident of a bohemian studio for sure.”

Where she expected a quick retort, instead a far more sober note tinged his face with the slightest edges of sadness as the smile faded. “It was my parents’ first home. My mother’s sister kept it until she retired to Florida and I moved in a few years ago.”

Of course.

“I’m sure it’s absolutely lovely.”

Abby forced herself to keep the sympathy at a minimum, but knew instinctively she’d hit a raw nerve. Charles and Katherine Steele had been killed in a car accident a few years before she and Kensington became college roommates. Although she’d visited some of the family’s other homes, the brownstone on the Upper East Side that now served as House of Steele’s headquarters had been the most frequent destination. Even so, she knew their wealth had extended to other homes.

Other memories.

“What’s that look for?”

She saw the question in his gaze before adding a question of her own. “I’m trying to understand how it is we’ve never met. I’ve known your sister for twelve years.”

“I had quite a few years where I didn’t spend much time at home.”

“What changed?”

“A lot of things.” He shrugged, the motion casual, but she knew there was much more behind his words. “I grew up, mostly.”

“It happens to the best of us.”

“I suppose it does.” The shadows faded from his eyes, replaced with another vivid, killer smile. “You bring up a good point, though, which reminds me you never answered my question earlier. About how we met.”

“I’ll follow your lead.”

“Nope. We need to be in sync on this, especially if we’re asked separately.”

The point was a legitimate one and she threw out the first thing that came to mind. “Walking in the park.”

“Too cliché.”

“Cliché?”

“This is New York. A lot of people meet in the park.”

“Which would make it a logical way to meet.”

He shook his head. “Nope. It’s too efficient. You strike me as the type who pops in her earbuds, does her run and pays no attention to anything, or anyone, around you. Something else.”

The urge to argue was strong, but she had to give him credit for being spot-on. “How’d you know I was a runner?”

“Those legs.” His gaze roamed lightly over her body and she sucked in a breath at the electricity that hummed underneath her skin at the perusal.

“Hmm. All right. How about at a business meeting?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Then people will ask what I do, leading to another lie.”

Abby had to give him credit. What started out as a simple exercise was rapidly morphing into a more serious discussion where walking in unprepared could give them away. “What do you do, then? You know. If I’m asked.”

“I’m in software. If anyone pushes any harder, say fractal wave patterns and it’s usually more than enough to shut them up.”

“You do realize fractal wave patterns are a legitimate, documented phenomenon in the financial industry. What are you going to do if you get a banker asking the question?”

“Ramble.”

She had to laugh at that. “You do this often?”

“Often enough to know that people really don’t want to know the ins and outs of a computer geek’s mind.”

“All right. Let’s just say we met on an internet dating site and be done with it.”

“I don’t need to get a girl through my computer.”

She shook her head at his sexist—and outdated—comment. “First, it’s a perfectly respectable way to meet someone. Second, you do live your life attached to a computer. It would make sense.”

“No.”

“Fine. You’ve got a better idea?”

“We met through my sister. A simple family connection. It’s not exactly a secret you went to Radcliffe. So did Kensington. It’s a perfect cover and it has the added bonus of being one hundred percent true.”

“If this was your goal all along, why not just say it?”

“Wasn’t it far more fun to debate it? Add to it that you’re far less nervous than you were when I got in the car and I’d say it was well worth the time.”

And there it was.

That simple knowledge that he wasn’t to be underestimated, under any circumstances.

He saw far too much and thought too much.

And most of all, he saw her. From the workings of her mind to her exercise routine, he observed, dissected and analyzed. It was unnerving.

Not to mention more than a little exhilarating.

“So what is this event this evening?”

Abby welcomed the change in topic as the lights of Lincoln Center came into view outside the car windows. “The opera.”

A dawning look of horror covered Campbell’s face. “Any chance I can convince you to turn the car around just throw money at the event instead?”

“I’ve already thrown money at the event. This is the result.”

“So they already got what they wanted. Let’s bail. We can get a few hot dogs at Gray’s Papaya and go to the movies instead.”

“What is wrong with you? It’s a few hours and a few arias. It’s not that big a deal.”

“Who’s this evening’s diva?”

“Carlotta Luchino. Why?”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

* * *

Whatever questions Abby had at his not-so-subtle rejection of the opera vanished in the whirlwind of the evening. The requisite ode to culture only involved about three pieces of music and the swanky after-party kicked into high gear.

Campbell and Abby mingled with the evening’s attendees, drinking post-performance cocktails and dodging requests for additional donations. He kept his hand steady on her back and played the attentive lover as he watched the room for any sign of the suspicious or out of place.

As covers went, he could hardly complain. He was sharing the evening with a beautiful woman. What troubled him was his inability to keep his mind on the task at hand.

Instead, his thoughts filled with her.

Abby, her long legs stretched out in the limo and visible through the thigh-high slit in her dress, so close to the tips of his fingers.

Abby, her lush mouth drawn up into a smile as she talked to the CEO of a key telecom company.

Abby, stripped from the long column of her gold-sequined gown, naked and willing in his arms.

Although he hadn’t technically observed that last one, the image was crystal clear in his mind’s eye all the same.

Conversation swirled around him, voices high and happy in the glow of expensive liquor when his gaze alighted on a man about ten yards away. Although the man stood in a group, his gaze was steady on Abby.

The intrusion was immediate.

“Champagne, sweetie?” Campbell leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek, whispering in her ear, “Who’s the man at your three o’clock?”

Her eyes widened but it was the only evidence she was alarmed. Instead, she shot him a gentle smile and nodded. “Yes, I’d love some.”

Campbell waved a waiter over and used the motion to cover her as she turned to look at the stranger. When the champagne arrived, she gave him a slight head shake as she reached for a fresh glass.

“I think I see an old college buddy. Would you excuse me for a moment?”

The CEO and his wife were well into the champagne and sent him off with jovial smiles as Abby resumed a story about her last analyst meeting. As the husky, cultured tones of her voice faded behind him, Campbell moved around the perimeter of the room, blending with the guests as he assessed the potential threat.

While he knew every man with a pulse had given Abby a once-over since they’d arrived, the man’s continued focus had Campbell’s hackles up.

Which was the only excuse he had for missing the cloud of perfume and the voice accented with the heavy notes of Italy as two long arms snaked around his waist. “Campbell, darling. You’re here yet you don’t come find me.”

A heavy pout pushed Carlotta Luchino’s rich red lips into a tight line before she leaned forward and pressed them to his cheek. “You wound me, darling.”

“Carlotta.” Campbell fought to keep his gaze on his quarry but the opera diva’s hands were too busy with holding his face still.

“I’ve called you.”

“More than once.”

“And now you’ve come to see me. Tonight. Clearly you have just been playing games with me.”

“No games, Carlotta. I promise.” He set his champagne glass onto a small tray with a heavy thud and was grateful the stem didn’t break. With quick moves, he reached for the hands that cupped his neck and face, not surprised at the tight, determined grip.

“Yes, games. Always games with you. You think I didn’t know how you wanted me? How you longed for me?”

Campbell fought the urge to roll his eyes as he tried to shift their bodies. Although he wasn’t a short man by any means, her tall frame was augmented by five-inch designer heels and a dark cloud of hair atop her head. The combination of all three conspired to obscure his vision of the possible threat to Abby.

What couldn’t be obscured was the cool, collected voice that resonated over his shoulder.

“Darling. Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Chapter 3

Abby fought the urge to clench her fists and wondered how she ended up agreeing with Campbell Steele’s harebrained scheme to be fake lovers. What had seemed like a good idea at the time suddenly felt petty and childish in light of the barracuda wrapped around him.

As Campbell worked to remove himself from the diva’s arms, Abby amended the mental reference to octopus. She was also more than a little surprised to feel a spear of jealousy tunneling its way through the center of her heart. Since the emotion was as unwelcome as it was unexpected, she pasted on a smile as she turned toward Campbell and the opera singer.

“Abby. Let me introduce you to the evening’s entertainment, Carlotta Luchino.”

Campbell wasn’t kidding on the entertainment, but Abby forced every ounce of good breeding into her voice as she extended her hand to the singer. “It’s lovely to meet you, Ms. Luchino. Your performance this evening was beautiful.”

The woman preened slightly under the compliment and did release her grip on Campbell as he made quick introductions. Abby could practically see the question on the singer’s expressive face as the woman’s eyes narrowed. “You own McBane Communications?”

When Abby confirmed she was both owner and CEO, the transformation was nearly instantaneous. A broad smile covered the diva’s face and she barely gave Campbell another glance.

Whatever else she was, Carlotta Luchino was a businesswoman and she knew the success of the evening depended on the generosity of its patrons. The hand she’d left on Campbell’s arm fell as she smiled broadly and gestured to the room at large. “You are enjoying the evening, no?”

“Absolutely.”

The lie tripped off her tongue as Campbell’s freedom from the woman’s clutches gave him the opportunity to resume his perusal of the guests. Although she hadn’t paid any attention to her surroundings until Campbell had pointed out the man, it was all she could do to stay still and not go after him herself and find out what he wanted from her.

And why he was watching her.

When Campbell’s scan of the room turned up nothing—evidenced by a slight shake of his head—he reached for her hand. “Carlotta, while it was lovely to see you again, I’m afraid we’re going to need to get going.”

Carlotta sighed, but Abby didn’t miss the narrow-eyed gaze the woman had already bestowed on an aging widower standing at the edge of a nearby conversation circle.

“That was interesting.”

“To say the least.” Campbell tugged on the collar of his shirt and it brought a quick smile to Abby’s face. While she knew it wasn’t all that broad-minded of her, she couldn’t quite shake the small stab of glee that he’d spent those last few minutes with Carlotta as uncomfortable as she.

And then he went still, his discomfort vanishing as if it had never been.

“What is it?”

“Your friend is back.”

Abby fought the urge to turn around and instead, reached for Campbell’s arm and forced an adoring tone into her voice. “Walk me toward the door? I’m in need of some fresh air.”

He clasped his hand over hers where it rested on his forearm and she followed his guidance as they walked through the throng of partygoers. Her heels were high, but she couldn’t quite see over the people milling around and she’d do far better to simply allow Campbell to lead her where they needed to go.

“Do you see him?”

“Yep. He’s near the far side of the theater and heading for the stairs.”

She felt the impatience in his large body and pressed a hand to his lower back. “Go. Don’t let me hold you up.”

“Stay here among all these people. You’ll be a lot safer here.”

“What if this guy’s capable of real harm?”

“An even better reason you should stay. In fact, why don’t you find security and suggest they head for the parking garages. I’m pretty sure that’s where he’s going.”

The urge to argue was strong; the urge to follow him even stronger.

And stay or follow, it was more than a little unnerving to find herself left behind as he took off through the crowd.

She gave herself the briefest moment to watch him depart, his height ensuring she could see his head as he threaded his way through the crowd.

How the heck did I end up with a bodyguard?

The thought gonged long and loud in her mind as she moved in the opposite direction of Campbell and toward a couple of security guards she’d seen earlier.

The bodyguard thought continued to press at her as she navigated the jovial crowd.

She’d hired a computer expert, not a bodyguard. And now Campbell had placed himself in potential danger on her behalf.

She picked up her pace, moving to the perimeter of the crowd to find the guards.

“So here you are.”

A flood of adrenaline rushed her system as Abby looked up into the face of the man who had been pointed out to her. With her only thought the safety she felt in Campbell’s presence, she took off down a nearby well of stairs and her last memories of Campbell’s retreating body.

“Wait!”

The heavy adrenaline rapidly morphed into sheer panic as Abby worked to keep her high heels steady on the stairs. She felt the man boring down behind her and let out a small scream when he reached out to touch her shoulder.

She had to get away.

Had to get to Campbell and safety.

She saw the gray-tinged lights of the parking garage spread out before her, the glass entry doors that separated the performance building from the parking lot propped open at the base.

The thought crossed her mind that Campbell may have changed course, but that fear vanished as she heard him scream her name.

“Abby!”

Scrabbling footsteps echoed behind her as the man pursuing her realized she had backup. He whirled on his heel, the heavy sensation of his body bearing down on hers vanishing immediately.

From her periphery, she saw Campbell change gears, moving from his path to intercept the man who’d followed her.

And then she could only stare as it all happened in a blur of motion.

Campbell’s long strides had him easily reaching the man, who he collared and slammed into the nearest car, all in one coordinated move. He kept the man pinned to the car and a silent thrill rode her as she observed Campbell’s predatory grace.

“What do you want with her?” The mild-mannered man who’d accompanied her to the opera had vanished, and in its place was a man who obviously understood violence.

“Nothing.”

“Wrong answer.” Campbell pressed harder against the man. “What do you want with her?”

“Nothing, man. Nothing.”

“Who are you working for?”

Abby was torn between watching the exchange and running for help. Although Campbell appeared to have the upper hand, she was afraid to leave him alone. The sound of shouts and heavy footfalls ensured she didn’t need to make that decision as two security guards barreled through the glass doors.

“Sir! Stand back.”

The entire scene ran like something out of a bad movie as Abby watched the two men separate Campbell and the stranger, then drag both of them some distance from the cars.

“I’ve got credentials, if you’ll just let me get them from my pockets.” Campbell grit out the words as his gaze stayed locked on the man he’d had pinned.

The guard holding Campbell waited for a nod from his partner before agreeing. “Can she get it for you?”

“Abby?” Campbell’s gaze met hers. “My inside front pocket.”

Tension gripped all of them in tight fists and she made quick work of the job, reaching inside his open tuxedo jacket. As he promised, there was a small leather folder there and she pulled it out and opened it for the guard.

The guard released his grip and she watched, fascinated, as Campbell extended his arms in front of him to keep the man at ease. “You’re in security?”

“Yes.”

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” The guard handed the badge back while his partner kept a firm hold on the other man.

Campbell provided a quick recap of events both during the cocktail hour and what led them into the garage.

“The man followed you, ma’am?”

“Yes.”

The guy screamed that she was a liar, but it was only while he was screaming that Abby truly caught sight of where his gaze had landed.

On the diamond necklace that encircled her throat.

Understanding flooded her in a rush. “You’re a thief.”

“I am not.”

“That’s what this is about.”

The accusation had little effect on the man’s mood, but it was enough to shift the conversation with the guards to their favor as well as the two additional guards who came down after receiving radio calls.

Abby watched in bewildered fascination as Campbell worked the new guards, reconfirming his license and what had happened.

And she was even more shocked and amazed when, after providing their contact information only, they were both given permission to leave.

“How’d you do that?”

“The license helped.” Campbell’s hand returned to her lower back and he led them toward the waiting line of cars. “I also let the guard know you were a highly respected businesswoman under my protection. They’ll follow up with you.”

Campbell waved in the direction of the limo line and she saw a quick flash of lights from their driver. “Come on. Let’s wait for him over here.”

“Do you think they’ll get anything out of him?”

“Where’d you get the idea he was a thief?”

Abby thought back to that brief flash of insight. It wasn’t anything she could fully describe or explain, but she’d known the moment the man’s gaze had settled on her neck that his intentions were about the jewelry.

She’d spent long years reading people and she couldn’t shake the bone-deep certainty that had been his motive.

“There was an avarice in his eyes I can’t quite explain. I’m sure once they run him it’ll become more than obvious he was casing the event to set up a few jobs.”

The car pulled around and their driver hopped out and got them settled. Campbell took his seat opposite her and she sunk against the padded seats, unable to stop the events of the evening from flashing through her mind.

“I’m sure the police will follow up, but I’ll also run that guy through a facial-recognition program. If he’s got any sort of a record, or even a whisper of suspicion around him, he’ll pop.”

“Good.” Abby tried to shake off the lingering feelings of vulnerability that were as unwelcome as they were uncomfortable.

“And just to cover ground I know you’ll be asked again. You’ve never seen him before?”

“No, I haven’t. Which is more than I can say for you and the Sophia Loren wannabe back there.”

Her own words surprised her but they had their desired effect as they shifted Campbell’s focus. His grin was back, whip-quick and more than a little dashing. “You didn’t believe me when I told you I didn’t like opera.”

“I assumed you didn’t care for the music.”

“Among other things,” he muttered as he reached for his bow tie.

Abby held her tongue, the image of those slender arms and luscious curves wrapped around Campbell still haunting her mind’s eye. Not only was the reaction beyond inappropriate—he owed her no explanations—it was damned infuriating to feel like the cuckolded lover.

Even if the lover part was imaginary.

“How about a drink? I want to discuss tonight as well as our plans for tomorrow.”

She flirted briefly with turning down the invitation, but discarded the idea. They didn’t have much time before leaving for Paris and there was still much to go over. Besides, her adrenaline was still so sky-high she knew she was unlikely to fall asleep anytime soon. “Where would you like to go?”

“The Four Winds is on the way to your home. It’s dark, it’s private and it’s a classic with those big wide windows overlooking Central Park. Let’s head there.” After a quick set of instructions to their driver, Campbell dragged the tie from his throat, wrapping it up and dropping it into his suit pocket. A small patch of skin was visible at the open neck of his shirt and Abby felt her temperature spike another few degrees.

Their destination decided, Abby tried to mentally regroup. She had to get a grip on these ridiculous feelings. She and Campbell were going to be spending a lot of time together in close proximity and ogling her newly acquired business associate wasn’t going to help her keep her mind on the game. Already tonight, she’d been more than surprised when he’d pointed out the steady gaze of the tuxedo-clad stranger.

She hadn’t even noticed the man.

“What was your take on this evening?” She saw the bright lights of the Time Warner Center as their driver took the turn at Columbus Circle and she knew they weren’t far from their destination.

“Aside from our criminal du jour, it was a relatively harmless evening. Lots of well-dressed people having stuffy, boring conversations.”

“That’s what you thought about tonight?”

“Sure. Didn’t you?”

A laugh welled up at his frank assessment. “Well, yeah, but aren’t we supposed to pretend we had a good time, drinking in the atmosphere and reveling in the talk of important matters?”

“What for? It was a bunch of privileged people standing around talking about privileged things.”

She couldn’t hold back her curiosity at the entirely unexpected shift in the conversation. “Unless I’m mistaken, that townhome we picked you up at smacks of privilege and wealth.”

He shrugged, the lines of his shoulders stiff and uncomfortable as his gaze drifted toward the window. “It just seems like there’s more to life.”

“Is that why you do this?”

He turned back from the window. “Do what? The business?” When she nodded, he added, “Sure, to a point. It keeps me active and productive and it seems to be working if the profits we’re turning are any indication.”

“Did you ever expect your services would be in such high demand?”

A quick light sparked in Campbell’s eyes and Abby didn’t miss the clear notes of excitement there. “Nothing prepared us for the reaction we’ve had. We knew our parents’ friends had the need for quiet inquiries into certain matters or help managing an enemy bent on destroying them, but we were unprepared for the response we’ve received.”

“So you help the very lifestyle you disdain?”

“It’s not disdain—”

Intrigued, Abby sat quietly, waiting for him to say more. She sensed something underneath his words she couldn’t quite identify and for some reason it was suddenly very important to her to understand what drove him.

His words were quiet when he finally spoke again. “I want more out of my life than watching my stock portfolio all day.”

“Your parents raised you and your siblings with a work ethic. There’s nothing wrong with that. There’s also nothing wrong with enjoying the fruits of your labor, however you choose.”

“This from a woman regularly known to work ninety-hour weeks. Tell me, Abby—” he leaned toward her across the expanse of the limo, his voice husky “—how often are you enjoying the fruits of your labors?”

She could hardly argue with the assessment, even if it suddenly struck her as a rather cold view of her life. “I enjoy a full life.”

“Outside the boardroom?”

She laughed, the sound surprising her with its hollow echo. “I lead a privileged life. I’m hardly in a position to complain.”

Their driver pulled to a stop and Abby sensed their conversation was at an end. “Speaking of privilege, what you do does have a few perks.”

“Perks?”

“You weren’t exactly fending off the advances of a world-renowned diva, now were you?”

She purposely looked away from Campbell’s widened eyes as the driver held her door open. Abby took the man’s proffered hand and stepped from the car, satisfied that—for the moment—she’d had the last word.

* * *

Campbell walked behind Abby through the ornate entryway to one of his favorite bars, his gaze returning again and again to the long cascade of her hair falling rich and lush over her back. The woman was a sight and he couldn’t quite shake off the small kernel of enjoyment that Carlotta had gotten to her.

He also thanked his lucky stars the diva hadn’t ruined his cover.

Carlotta had a rather sizeable chip on her shoulder at her ill-fated seduction attempts and this evening could have gone sideways faster than a computer virus in a mainframe if she hadn’t recognized the financial value in sucking up to Abby.

He could only offer praise to the few brain cells he possessed that he’d never taken the diva up on her more than generous offer—one given while stark-naked—the previous fall. She was an assignment—the victim of a high-end ring of identity thieves—and he didn’t mix business with pleasure.

So why was he struggling to keep that in the forefront of his thoughts as he spent time with Abby?

And what the hell was he thinking coming on to her in the limo? He had no idea how she chose to live her life and insinuating otherwise was seriously out of line. Despite the knowledge he needed to stop this ridiculous curiosity about his newest client, he couldn’t deny how the woman intrigued him.

Nor could he deny the overwhelming urge to wipe away the sadness he saw in the depths of her lush brown gaze.

He was neither a fanciful man, nor a poetic one, so the fact that thought even crossed his mind was proof positive he was far more gone than he’d realized.

The hostess led them through the bar to a prime seat in front of the oversize windows. The south entrance of the park sat open before them and he could see several horses with their riders waiting to ply their trade.

With deliberate movements, he slung an arm around Abby’s shoulders once they were settled on a small high-backed settee before the window.

“There’s no one here,” she hissed as she looked up at him.

“What’s the matter? Not enjoying my company?”

“That’s not what I meant. The event is over and we’re not on display any longer. You said the evening didn’t seem out of the ordinary.”

His impressions earlier in the day as well as observing her throughout the evening were one of a woman used to being in control. Add on her comments in the car when he tried to probe deeper and he knew she wasn’t used to giving up one precious bit of that power.

Whether it was his own stubborn, subversive nature that his family regularly cursed him for or the fact that the woman tantalized him like no other he wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t resist baiting her.

“Just because the evening didn’t seem out of the ordinary didn’t mean there wasn’t anyone watching. Nor does it mean we don’t need practice for our trip to Paris.”

“Practice?”

“Of course. People have to believe we’re really together. If a few drinks together can’t loosen us up, there’s no way we’re going to convince a room full of people who’ve known you for years that we’re an item.”

“They’ll just think we’re not a very affectionate couple.”

The pert retort gave him the exact opening he needed. With deliberate slowness, Campbell leaned in, pressing his lips toward her ear. “Like anyone would believe you could be cold and indifferent in a relationship.”

“There’s cold and indifferent and then there’s wildly inappropriate. I wouldn’t be inappropriate at a business function.”

Her spine was arrow-straight and her face was a mask of that indifference he’d accused her of and suddenly, despite the fact she was a client, he simply couldn’t resist seeing where she was willing to take things. With deliberate slowness, he ran a finger down the length of her forearm, the soft feel of her skin beckoning him. “Shame.”

“Wh-what’s a shame?” Her voice was breathless as he trailed his finger once more over that delicate skin, turning her hand over so the expanse of her wrist was bare to him.

“It’s a shame that you wouldn’t allow even the tiniest bit of passion to make its way into your business meeting.”

“The boardroom’s not the time or place.”

“I suppose you’re right.” With a quick shift, he put some space between them as their waitress came over to take their drink orders. He gestured Abby to go first, then ordered his standard whiskey and soda.

And settled back to see what move Ms. Abigail McBane decided to make next.

* * *

“Don’t think I’m not on to your game.”

Campbell’s gaze was diverted as he scanned the room but his words held no hesitancy. “I’ve no doubt you are.”

Yet again, Abby felt herself caught off balance as he fully acknowledged what had roared to life between them. “Oh.”

He finished his perusal and turned the full power of that vivid blue gaze on her. “We’re attracted to each other. It’s a wee bit inconvenient, but some of the best things in life are.”

She watched his face in the subdued lighting of the bar, curious at the mix of ennui and matter-of-fact sincerity in his tone. “You’re rather practical.”

“There’s that word again. I just prefer to think of myself as honest.” He reached for a pretzel nestled in a small silver bowl on the small cocktail table between them and popped it in his mouth. “There’s a difference.”

“Honest? You know all about the inner workings of computer fraud and high-level hacking. Isn’t that a bit like saying the fox should have access to the henhouse?”

“It all depends?”

“On what?”

He leaned in once more and Abby couldn’t fight the delighted shiver that raced down her spine at the warmth emanating from his body. “Whether or not you open the door.”

A discreet cough from their waitress caught Abby’s attention and she watched as the woman set down a glass of cabernet. Abstractly, she wondered if the wine matched the flush trying to work its way across her face.

Why was she so upside down over this man? She’d attended meetings with the President of the United States, damn it. She could do this.

Even more important, she had to do this.

This strange attraction might have thrown her for a loop, but she’d be damned if she were going to behave like she was a slave to her body. This was a business arrangement and it was time to start treating it like one. She waited until their waitress left them before pushing their conversation back onto safer ground. “I’m on the committee for the opera charity. I can probably get a list of attendees tonight if you think you could do something with that.”

He took a sip of his drink before setting it down. “Good. That’ll save time and I’ll run it against a few of the databases I’m pulling from your systems. I set a few other things up to run overnight and I can look at the data in the morning.”

“You were busy this afternoon.”

He shrugged. “A few simple programs to begin organizing your staff lists. I’ll take it up a few notches after we get to Paris and get set up at your offices there.”

“I can get you access to the Paris office but I won’t be able to join you. I’m holding the meetings at my home.”

Her words hit a mark she wasn’t even aiming for as he put down his glass without even taking a sip. “You can’t be serious.”

“Of course I am. I use this week of meetings to entertain and I always do it from my home. It’s more personal that way.”

“Abby. You’re dealing with a security breach that may have originated with your staff. You can’t put yourself at risk like that.” All hint of teasing and innuendo was gone as he stared at her with that stark blue gaze.

“Nothing’s going to happen in my home. And no one stays there. They’re brought in from a nearby hotel.”

“Doesn’t change the fact they’re there for hours on end. Do you have any idea how easy it will be for someone to slip away for a few minutes and get a sense of the house?”

Abby had been diligent about tamping down her own sense of paranoia, unwilling to allow the out-of-control feelings to invade her annual meeting plans and in a few brief moments, Campbell had managed to bring them welling right back up to the surface. Forcing a sense of bravado into her tone she didn’t really feel she pushed back. “It can’t be that bad. I’ll add some additional security detail.”

“So you have some? At the house now?”

“I have a state-of-the-art alarm system, installed a year ago, and maintained with monthly software upgrades.”

He was already reaching for his phone when she stilled his arm. “What are you doing?”

“Getting someone in there now. You can’t just rely on the technology, especially if the person we’re dealing with has the skills we suspect.”

“There’s nothing to be done for it tonight, Campbell.”

“It’s five in the morning in Paris and the best don’t sleep anyway. I want a team in there immediately and I want the house swept for devices and bugs before you arrive tomorrow.”

“It’s a good system. Custom designed.” She couldn’t resist adding that last bit, more than a little embarrassed to have her ability to protect herself found lacking.

His eyebrows rose at that as he reached for his whiskey once more. After a hearty sip, he turned toward her. “I’m not trying to scare you, Abby. Believe me, that’s the last thing I want to do, but I don’t understand why you aren’t taking this seriously. You were concerned enough to call my sister to secure our help. Add on you can’t account for a significant problem in your security protocols.”

“I am taking this seriously.” She snapped out the words. “I’ve been through this before and it was nothing. I’m not going to look like I’m crying wolf and running around like a helpless little woman. I won’t do that again.”

His already sharp gaze grew even more pointed. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. It was a long time ago.”

“Then why’d you say it?”

She took a deep breath, willing her raging emotions to cool. Why had she even mentioned it? She wasn’t helpless. She was a strong, resourceful woman and she knew how to take care of herself.

So why the hell couldn’t she find her balance?

“I don’t want to live in fear. That’s not a way to live.”

“No, it’s not. But ignoring the problem isn’t going to make it go away. And ignoring the true root of your feelings isn’t helping, either.” When she remained silent, he pressed on. “So what happened?”

“I had an incident about a year after college—almost seven years ago, I guess. I was assigned to our London office and one of my coworkers took an inappropriate shine to me.”

Campbell nodded, the hard set of his jaw tight as he listened to her story.

“It was little things at first. A few emails. Mutual trips in the elevator as I was leaving. Then it got worse with a visit to my flat.”

“What did you do about it?”

“Gently rebuked his interest at first. Then more forcefully when he wouldn’t take the hint.”

Although time had faded the memories, Abby was surprised by how quickly she could pull it all back. “I escalated it up when it became evident he wouldn’t stop and Human Resources took care of him. European employment laws are different than the U.S. but the owners’ daughter gets a bit of extra special attention. It was all a moot point in the end.”

“Why’s that?”

“He was found dead about two weeks after the human resources department arranged for his departure.”

“Did you investigate it?”

“Of course. Nothing turned up and the cause of death was ruled a heart attack.”

“How old was the guy?”

“About thirty.”

“And you didn’t find a heart attack suspicious?”

“It was ruled a condition from birth. One of those strange circumstances of nature.”

Campbell’s intense focus—complemented by a heavy dose of skepticism at the story of the man’s death—had her rethinking the incident in light of her current situation.

Was it possible there was a connection, even a distant one?

“And you’ve never dealt with anything else?”

“You mean other than the routine, vitriolic letters that come into the McBane press office, suggesting I’m the spawn of Satan for running a company that sends satellites up into orbit?”

“Something like that.”

“Then no. Nothing has happened since London.” She hesitated, the need for reassurance warring with the concern that she was just being silly. “Do you think there’s a chance they could be connected?”

“I think I’m glad you told me about it so we can rule out any connection.” Campbell reached for her hand, his voice thick with the shades of his whiskey. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Abby. You do believe me?”

“Yes.”

His fingers returned to the sensitive skin of her wrist and he rubbed gently against the small space with the pad of his thumb. Desire wrapped around her with sly tendrils, soft fingers of need that beckoned her toward him. The urge to simply lean forward and kiss him—to find out if the strength she sensed in him would follow through to his ability to draw a response from her—had her nearly acting on the impulse.

In the split second between desire and action, the bar exploded in confusion. The heavy, unmistakable sound of a gunshot echoed through her ear as the window opposite them exploded into a million pieces.

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