Wired

  Although the weather was unseasonably warm, she knew the temperature would drop tonight. As she was reaching for her lightweight coat from the hall closet, someone knocked on her door. She looked through the peephole and jumped back. Liam was standing right outside. She peeked again; he was still there, looking as devastatingly handsome as usual. Her heart started racing. There were moments like this when she was in awe of him. And she needed to get over that as quickly as possible. She hoped she didn’t appear flustered when she opened the door, smiled, and said, “What are you doing here?”

  “Is that any way to greet me?” He paused to give her the once-over and said, “You look nice.”

  “Thank you. You look nice, too. Why are you wearing a suit? Are you on your way somewhere?”

  “I’ve been in a meeting.”

  “Oh. I thought you might have a date.”

  “No.”

  “So I was wrong,” she said, trying to quiet the inner voice that was screaming, Take a breath and stop staring at him.

  “Yes.”

  “What kind of meeting was it?” she asked. “Or is it confidential?” How lame was that question?

  “Yes, I can talk about it with you, but I don’t want to just yet.”

  “All right.”

  “Where were you going?”

  “A cocktail party at the Hamilton and then dinner with my sister and her husband. What’s in the envelope?”

  “A contract Phillips wants you to sign. I’d like to go over it with you first. I was going to come by Sunday, but I got a call and decided to come over now. Is someone picking you up? Do you have a date?” He was frowning as he asked the questions. Before she could answer he said, “You’d better call him and cancel.”

  “No . . .”

  He took a step toward her. “Yes.” Enveloped by her wonderful scent, Liam tried to block the image of her naked body wrapped in his arms. It was a hell of a challenge. “We need to talk about this contract. It could take a while, so you should call him,” he repeated.

  “I was trying to tell you, no, I don’t have a date. I was driving myself, and I am not going to cancel dinner or the cocktail party.”

  He attempted to reason with her. “I might be leaving Boston tomorrow night, and I want to make any necessary changes to this contract after we discuss it. I don’t want Phillips to take advantage of you. I really think you should stay home so we can go over it.”

  She realized how sweet he was being with his concern for her, but didn’t dare tell him so. She knew he would be insulted and assure her he was only doing his job. “That isn’t an option,” she insisted. “I’ve made plans.”

  He shrugged. “Okay, then. I’m going with you.”

  Liam acted as though this were an inconvenience when, in fact, staying close to her tonight was exactly what he had planned to do. He knew he was being overprotective and probably overreacting. He didn’t care. The meeting with Curtis Bale at the cyber unit hadn’t gone well, which was an understatement.

  Phillips had called Bale into the office for a meeting with Liam that morning. While they were talking to him, a member of his staff in Detroit was being arrested. Allison’s search had led them directly to the man. He was a tech for the FBI in Detroit, and he had been using a home computer to wreak havoc on the bureau. It didn’t take long for them to come up with a possible motive. After looking through his file, they discovered he had received several reprimands for questionable conduct in the past. His record showed his inability to accept criticism and a tendency to respond with anger. His reputation and his job were in jeopardy, and apparently his burning resentment of the FBI authorities had led him to sabotage several cases.

  After Liam laid out the case, Bale became outraged because he had been kept out of the loop and was the last to know what was going on. Assuming any weakness in his division would ultimately come to rest on his head, he let his ego take over. He swore that neither he nor any member of his staff had leaked confidential information, and while he was shouting at Liam and Phillips, he brought up Allison’s name. He had noticed she was sequestered in a separate office, and he’d surmised she was working on a sensitive project. Since he was aware of the work being performed by the rest of the staff, he concluded she was the one who’d found what he called the alleged proof. Once his argument homed in on Allison, Bale wouldn’t back down. He accused her of being little more than a teenager without any training in the field. She couldn’t have known what she was doing.

  The solid facts were right in front of Bale, but the longer he ranted, the more furious he became. After several hours of angry discussion, he needed someone to focus his blame on, and the most convenient target was Allison. Not only did he accuse her of creating false evidence in the leak investigation, but he went so far as to insinuate she’d had something to do with the closure of the Detroit office. Phillips got into it with Bale then, yet Bale wouldn’t relent. He worked himself into such an agitated state he was no longer rational. The so-called facts, he insisted, must have been planted. Were they really going to let Allison, an outsider, ruin careers?

  At the end of questioning, Bale was so out of control he was strongly encouraged to take a leave of absence. In a rage he stormed out of the building.

  His hot head had forced the outcome and he needed some time to cool down. Liam didn’t believe Bale would physically harm Allison, but in Bale’s present state of mind, Liam worried the other agent would want to interrogate her in his own personal style and no doubt scare the hell out of her. Liam wasn’t about to let that happen. Phillips assured him Bale would be calm and sensible by morning. Until then, no one was going to get near her.

  “I’ll drive,” he said, stepping out into the hallway.

  Allison draped her coat over her arm and followed. “Okay, then,” she said.

  It seemed the most natural thing in the world for her hand to be in his, but once they reached the car, her self-conscious insecurities took over and she quickly let go. She told him whom the party was for and asked if he needed directions to the Hamilton Hotel.

  He smiled. “I know where it is. I’m staying there.”

  Impressed, she commented, “It’s very elegant.”

  “Yes, it is.” He didn’t add the fact that Alec’s wife and her brothers owned the Hamilton Hotels and that they had insisted that Liam stay there.

  In the car, Liam went over some of the points he didn’t like in Phillips’s contract, and although she tried, Allison found it impossible to pay attention. Her mind kept wandering off in another direction, to fantasies of a more carnal nature. She couldn’t stop herself from picturing him naked—she decided she wouldn’t be normal if she didn’t—and what a glorious memory that was. She remembered touching him and trailing her fingertips across his broad shoulders. She sighed inside, just thinking of his hard-as-steel muscles below his warm skin. She had to admit to herself that she loved touching him.

  She was thankful he hadn’t mentioned the fact that they had had sex the night before. When he’d shown up at her door, she was shocked and nearly speechless. She was also . . . joyful. A silly word, she decided, but it exactly defined how she felt. She had thought she wouldn’t see him again for months or maybe not ever because her work for him was done, and he traveled all over the world putting out fires. She had almost convinced herself that she was fine with that. Lots of people shared a night of passion and then moved on without complications. She could be one of those people. She was sure of it. Or was she? She didn’t seem to know her own mind anymore.

  “What do you think?”

  His question jarred her. “About what?”

  Exasperated, he said, “The contract. Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said?”

  She saw no reason to bluff her way through. “No, I haven’t.”

  He glanced over at her, saw her smile, and shook his head. “I’m trying to help you.”
r />   “I know you are.”

  “Then maybe you want to pay attention?”

  He pulled up to the valet in the circle drive and put the car in park. Two attendants hurried forward to open their doors.

  Stepping into the hotel was like entering another world, one that was stately and yet chic. Similar to the other Hamilton Hotels, the design blended old-world charm with contemporary touches here and there. The marble floors gleamed, and a stunning staircase with a mahogany banister curved up like a grand ribbon to the mezzanine overlooking the lobby. Vases filled with fresh flowers were on every table. All of the Hamilton Hotels were renowned for their sophistication. What separated this hotel from the others was the original artwork depicting scenes from Boston’s colorful history on each wall.

  Sounding a bit awkward and out of place, Allison whispered as though she were in a church, “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is,” he agreed. “Haven’t you been here before?”

  “Yes and no,” she replied.

  They had stopped just inside the entrance. Allison turned to him and tried to explain. “Yes, I have been here before, just once a couple of years ago, but I was working then, and when I work I sort of . . . disappear. The photo shoot was in one of the gardens. As soon as the chaos starts—you know, the different gowns and the makeup and hair—I turn into a mannequin.”

  He laughed. “A mannequin? You’d never pass for a mannequin. Too many curves,” he explained as he took her arm and crossed the lobby. “What does ‘sort of disappear’ mean?”

  She shrugged. “I zone out and work problems, write code.”

  “In your head.”

  “Yes. It’s like daydreaming, and people do that all the time, so stop looking at me like I’m crazy. Don’t you ever daydream?”

  “Sure, I do.”

  He wondered how she would feel if he told her that several times today he’d thought about what he would have liked to do to her and what he would have liked her to do to him with that sexy mouth of hers. He also thought about last night and how good it had been with her. No, better than good. It was damn near perfect.

  The party was being held in one of the smaller ballrooms on the mezzanine level. It was a beautifully appointed room. The walls were a soft gray, and there were floor-to-ceiling windows and French doors leading out to the garden. Bars had been set up in three corners of the room, and hors d’oeuvres were being served on silver platters by smiling, impeccably starched waiters. She and Liam were a few minutes late, so there was already quite a crowd, and yet the first person Allison spotted across the room was Brett Keaton, the jerk who had tried to steal her laptop. He was dressed like a yacht owner in a navy blue blazer with a silver emblem on the pocket, light pants, and matching shoes. The only thing missing was an ascot. He looked as though he had slept in a tanning bed, and his hair was a light blond. Had he bleached it? God’s gift to women—or so Brett believed—was pivoting from one female to another. Allison wondered if they were charmed by him.

  Liam noticed that a couple of unattached males were heading toward Allison, so he took her hand and pulled her into his side. He wasn’t real gentle or subtle about it.

  “What are you doing?” She looked up at him and saw a cocky gleam in his eyes, as if he had just won the biggest prize at the carnival.

  “I don’t want to lose you in the crowd,” he said with a wide grin.

  The two men greeted Allison, and once they introduced themselves to Liam, his grip on her hand loosened slightly. Both were professors who taught computer science classes. As they raved about Allison’s talent, testifying that she had saved them from disaster a time or two, Liam noticed how uncomfortable she was with any kind of admiration. She didn’t know how to handle it.

  After the two men moved on, Allison and Liam strolled through the guests, stopping to speak to several other professors and a few students, many of whom mentioned some computer problem Allison had bailed them out of.

  When they finally had a moment alone, Liam leaned down and whispered, “It’s remarkable that you don’t have a big ego.”

  “How do you know I don’t?”

  “Compliments bother you.”

  Before she had a chance to argue with him, he changed the subject. “Let’s find the birthday boy.”

  She laughed. “It isn’t a birthday party. Father Basher is retiring. And you don’t call a Jesuit a boy.”

  Allison located the priest on the other side of the room and led Liam through the crowd to meet him. It was apparent Father Basher had great affection for Allison. He held her hand while he told her how much he was going to miss teaching, and her in particular. Bragging to Liam, he said, “I taught this young lady to love art history, which was no small feat, since she always had her nose in her laptop.” He turned back to Allison. “I was just speaking to your friend Brett Keaton.” He looked around the room as though searching for Brett in the crowd. “Isn’t his news wonderful?”

  Allison was immediately skeptical. “What news?”

  “Why, the number of software companies that are vying to bid on the security program he’s developed.”

  A chill stiffened Allison’s spine. “He’s written a security program?”

  “I think that’s what he called it,” the priest answered. “He said it will prevent any kind of hacking. I’m afraid I don’t know much about such things, but he seemed very excited.”

  Allison tried to remain composed as the priest continued to chat, but inside she was stoking a slow burn. Finally, Father Basher let go of her hand and turned to greet other well-wishers.

  Liam saw the change in Allison’s demeanor the minute the priest mentioned Brett, and he remembered what she had told him about her former roommate. When she turned around, there was fire in her eyes. She scanned the room and finally zeroed in on a small group standing by the door. In the center, holding court, was a young man in his mid-twenties with styled blond hair the color of sunburned wheat. One hand was holding a drink and the other was slipped casually into the pocket of his blazer. His smile said he was relishing the attention he was getting from his audience.

  “Brett Keaton?” he asked.

  Allison nodded.

  Liam glanced over at him once again, and when he turned back, Allison was gone. She was already weaving through the crowd, heading for Brett. Anticipating a showdown, Liam rushed to catch up with her.

  Brett had turned his back to the room and was just about to greet a friend who wanted to congratulate him when Allison tapped on his shoulder. Brett swung around, his palm still outstretched to shake a hand, but the second he saw Allison, his smile disappeared.

  “I hear you’re trying to sell my work,” Allison said.

  Liam stood a few feet behind her. He knew she must be seething inside, yet her voice was very calm. He was impressed.

  “Hi, Allison,” Brett said, his phony smile back in place as he tried to hide the fact that he had been taken off guard. “How are you?”

  “I’m perfectly fine,” she answered in as pleasant a tone as she could muster. “I’ve just heard about the program you’ve designed, and it sounds very much like mine.”

  Brett immediately glanced around at his small group of admirers before striking a pose that made him look both bewildered and offended at the same time. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Allison. I’ve been working on this for months.”

  “Funny,” Allison said, “I don’t remember ever seeing you work on a security program—or even hearing you mention one, for that matter—when I was helping you with your classwork. I, on the other hand, have spent countless hours perfecting my program. Don’t you think that’s odd?”

  Liam watched as Brett’s body language changed. His hands were now fisted at his sides and his legs were braced apart for a fight. What did he suppose Allison was going to do? Karate-chop him? Liam’s instincts
told him to step forward and protect her, but Allison was so calm and seemingly unfazed by the threat that he held back.

  “You can’t prove anything,” Brett snarled. “You may think you’re the only one who knows anything about computers or software, but you’re wrong. I’ve put my blood, sweat, and tears into this program, and it’s finally going to pay off. You’ll be wanting to congratulate me pretty soon, unless your pride gets in your way. I’ll be in negotiations soon to sell my program,” he said, stressing the word my, “to several different companies bidding for it. They’re coming here for my presentation.”

  She patted his arm and sounded very sincere when she said, “Well, then, I wish you good luck and hope you get exactly what you deserve.”

  As she walked away she heard his final smug remark. “I will.”

  “You think he stole your program and is passing it off as his own?” Liam asked her when they were alone again.

  “Absolutely,” she responded. “I know what Brett can do, and it would have been impossible for him to have written a program in the time he’s been gone. He saw me working on mine.”

  “You’re a better person than I am. If someone stole my work, I’d want to coldcock him. You don’t seem too bent out of shape over it.”

  She laughed. “I’m not.”

  “How come?”

  “I always build a safeguard into my design.”

  “Yeah?”

  “If Brett has my work, he won’t be able to sell it.”

  “You’re certain?”

  “Oh yes.”

  He didn’t know what was going on behind her mysterious smile, but he could tell she was no longer upset. In fact, she seemed almost amused.

  FIFTEEN