Texan Undercover (Romantic Suspense) (5 page)

Now, with him standing so close, latent
hormones stood to attention. Broad shoulders filled the brown cable
sweater. Strong muscled thighs strained against the denim of his
jeans. His hazel eyes invited her to share in the absurdity of the
situation. She hadn't realized he had a sense of humor. His lazy
grin speared her through the chest.

If she smiled, Claire risked offending the
sensitive chef. She covered her mouth and coughed. "Natalie, take
care of this, will you?"

Her friend stepped forward. "I'm sorry, big
guy," Natalie said to Dillon. "You'll have to leave. I've told you
before, the kitchen belongs to Richard and no one is allowed back
here."

Claire left the kitchen and hurried down the
hall to her office. Heavy footsteps sounded behind her.
Anticipation and a delicious sense of dread glided along her
spine.

She heard the chirp of a cell phone and
glanced over her shoulder. Dillon answered the call and picked up
speed. He grabbed her elbow, pushed her through the door and
slammed it shut. He snagged her with those bedroom eyes. Claire
wanted to look away, but couldn't.

"Get over there and start the trace," Dillon
barked into the phone. "I'll work this end. Right." He cut the
connection.

The walls of Claire's office closed in on
her. Dillon's fingers burned through her sweater. He still stared
at her.

"Who was that?" Her voice was a whisper; her
throat dry. "My partner," he said. "K & G Research has been
hacked into. Again."

Dillon released Claire's elbow. He didn't want
to. He wanted to pull her close. Taste her. Touch her.
The job,
Anderson. Focus on the job.

"You think the hacker did it from here?"
Claire stepped away, scooted around her desk and sat down.

"Probably. I've started a trace. Should know
something in a few hours." Dillon lowered his frame into the chair
opposite. Why was he so attracted to Claire? He'd been around
beautiful women before. What was different about the woman on the
other side of the desk?

"Do you know what kind of attack it was?"
Claire picked up a pen and scribbled something on a pad of paper.
She kept her eyes lowered.

"Smurf. Floods the email host with fake
messages--"

"I know what it does," she said, looking up.
"Ties up the server. Puts them out of commission for a while. Kind
of juvenile, don't you think?" Her low melodic voice washed over
him.

"Yeah, our sophisticated hacker doesn't seem
above using a schoolboy prank. Six months ago, he installed a back
door to the systems at the three targeted companies. That made it
possible for him to enter their networks anytime he wanted, from
anywhere and do anything."

"And he's working out of e*Claire's." She
fidgeted with the pen.

"That's right." Dillon watched her hands,
mesmerized by the movements. Claire stroked the pen slowly between
her fingers and thumb. Up the length, then down. His body responded
to the rhythm of the motion. Up, then down. Up, then down. He could
almost feel those beautiful fingers caressing him. Up and down. Up
and down.
Damn.

Dillon cleared his throat. "For months, he's
been entering the systems and altering data with subtle changes.
Skewing research results in such a way that it took a while for the
companies to figure out someone was hacking them."

Claire grasped the pen with both hands and
nudged the end with her chin. "So why the Smurf attack? And why
now?"

Never before had Dillon considered a
ballpoint pen to be an instrument of erotic torture.
The job.
Keep the mind on the job.

"It may be a diversionary tactic," he said.
"Maybe he found the patches my partner installed over the security
holes in the systems. Maybe he's playing with us. Getting ready to
do more serious damage."

When Claire stuck the tip of the pen in her
mouth, Dillon nearly lost it. He must have made a noise, because
her hands froze and her eyes flew to his. The pen dropped and
clattered on the desktop. She snatched it up and stuffed it in the
pencil holder.

Tension hung thick and heavy between
them.

It was her turn to clear her throat. "So you
think this is the same guy?"

Dillon shifted in the chair. He couldn't
believe he was aroused just because she'd been fidgeting with a
pen. The woman was lethal. He needed to be careful. "If it's traced
back here, we can assume so."

"Do you think it was done this morning?" She
crossed her legs under the desk. Dillon fought the image of him
grasping her knees, pulling them apart and sinking into her soft
body. What the hell was wrong with him? Brozek was right. It had
been too long since he'd been with a woman.

"No, I wouldn't think so," Dillon said,
forcing his attention back to the conversation. "He probably came
in a couple of days ago and programmed the attack to occur at a
later time. Another safeguard to prevent being traced."

"So what happens next?" She leaned forward
and clasped her hands on the edge of the desk. Her knuckles turned
white from the pressure. Claire must be feeling the same tension.
Dillon was glad he wasn't the only one.

"I think the hacker's getting ready to break
into the data systems again. There's been a consistent pattern to
his attacks. I want to be ready for him."

"What are you going to do?" Her brown eyes
dropped to his mouth, then away. She caught his gaze and tried to
smile, but it didn't work. He wondered if she knew she was driving
him crazy.

"I want to install security cameras in the
cafe."

Claire frowned. "Security cameras? I'm not
sure--"

"We need to know who comes into the cafe,
what computers they're using and when they're using them. It'll
help us nail the guy. You do want us to nail him, don't you?"

"Of course. Why didn't you put the cameras in
place when you wired the computers?"

"There was a delay in shipment. The equipment
didn't come in until a couple of days ago."

"So why didn't you install it then?"

"Think about it, Claire. When could I install
it? You've been out of town."

"Oh, right." She frowned. "When do you want
to do it?"

Anytime. Any place, babe.
She was
killing him here. Slow, but sure. She was killing him.

"The sooner, the better. Tonight would be
good." Dillon quickly banished the thought of being alone with
Claire in the hushed atmosphere of the cafe. After hours. Again.
He'd deal with it. He had to deal with it. There was no way he
would give in to the desire crackling between him and this
woman.

"Won't the cameras attract attention? Alert
the hacker that you're on to him?" she asked.

"It's state-of-the-art surveillance
equipment. No one will know they're there."

Claire smiled. "I'm hearing that
Mission
Impossible
music again."

Her smile pole-axed him right in the gut. "I
wish you'd treat this situation a little more seriously," Dillon
said gruffly.

"I am," she said. She wasn't smiling any
longer. "I'm taking this situation very seriously. More than you
know."

****

After Dillon left her office, Claire sat for
a long time thinking. She had never reacted to anyone like she
reacted to Dillon. Never remembered having a man attracted to her
like he obviously was.

She lifted the ballpoint pen from the holder.
Her innocent fidgeting had inadvertently not been so innocent.
Instead, it had provoked a blazing desire in Dillon's eyes. The man
had radiated a heat that climbed across the desk and grabbed her.
Even now, she shivered in response. He'd made her want to feel his
arms around her. Taste his kisses. And much more.

But Claire couldn't let that happen. She'd
played with fire before. Granted, it had only been a tiny flame
compared to the raging inferno that threatened to consume her
whenever she and Dillon came together. No, she didn't want to play
with fire. She'd been burned already. And she had sworn, never
again.

Claire tossed the pen in a drawer and got to
work. At one-thirty, she stopped for lunch and walked out into the
cafe. The place buzzed with activity. Lunch hour was winding down,
but almost every seat was occupied. Some customers were still
eating, some studying, and a few were asleep in the overstuffed
chairs. That was okay. It pleased Claire that her customers treated
the cafe as a home away from home.

What didn't please her was to think one of
her customers was using e*Claire's to commit a crime. She hated
looking at everyone with suspicion and hoped Dillon caught the
hacker soon. Then things could go back to normal and he would
leave. She ignored the little voice whispering that she didn't want
to go back to normal. Didn't want the private eye to leave.

On the far side of the cafe, Dillon sat at
one of the computers. He looked up and stared at Claire for a long
second, then turned his attention back to the monitor. She had the
feeling he wanted to ignore this attraction between them just as
much as she did. And that was good, wasn't it?

Claire ordered her usual tofu salad and
raspberry tea, intending to eat in her office. She spotted Natalie
at one of the tables with Frank Winslowe and decided to join
them.

"Hey, girl," Natalie said. "Sit down. Take a
load off."

"Thanks, I will." Claire slid into a chair
opposite them. Frank sat in front of the computer with Natalie
close by. "How're you doing, Frank?" Claire asked. "Glad you're
back. Natalie's glad you're back." She winked at her friend.

Color crept into Frank's cheeks. He blinked
rapidly behind his steel-rimmed glasses, glanced at Natalie, then
back at the monitor. "I'm pleased to be back."

"How was Colorado?" Claire squeezed lemon
juice over her salad, added pepper and dug in.

"Freezing," he said. "Actually, below
freezing taking into account the wind chill factor."

"Did you get a chance to hit the slopes?"
Claire asked.

Frank blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"She means did you ski?" Natalie plucked a
lettuce leaf from Claire's bowl and popped it in her mouth.

"No, I don't ski. I was in Boulder, examining
artifacts with a few colleagues." He jotted notes on a legal pad
next to the computer.

"What are you working on, Frank?" Claire
sipped her tea.

Natalie answered for him. "It has something
to do with compiling data for his research. He's been working on it
for months. I think it's connected with his doctoral dissertation.
Right, Frank?"

"Hmm?" He stuck the pencil behind his ear and
continued tapping on the keyboard.

Claire finished her salad, smiling to
herself. She could understand why Natalie liked Frank. He was
attractive in an intellectual, nerdy kind of way. And that vague,
absent-mindedness was sort of cute.

"Where are you two going on your date?" she
asked. Her friend seemed happy sitting next to Frank. No
complications in Nat's love life. She grabbed what she wanted and
ran with it. Or him, as the case may be.

Unlike herself. Claire glanced across the
cafe. Dillon had moved to another computer. Tracing the hacker, no
doubt. She wondered how she was going to handle the sexual
attraction between them. Ignore it. That's what she was going to
do.

"Frank's taking me to a protest rally at the
capitol." Natalie's blue eyes twinkled.

"Oh? What kind of protest?" Claire knew Nat
didn't care one way or another about politics or current issues.
But Frank was an environmentalist. He could talk for hours about
the ozone layer and acid rain. When he wasn't absorbed in his
doctorate studies, that is.

"Depletion of the rain forests," Frank said,
not looking up from the monitor.

"I can hardly wait." Natalie grinned at
Claire.

"It should be an enlightening experience for
you." Frank jotted more notes, oblivious to the sarcasm in Nat's
voice.

"Yeah, real enlightening. Frank, I need to
get back to work. Tootles." She fluttered her fingers in front of
his face.

He frowned and looked at her. "Tootles?"

"Good bye. See you later. Adios." Natalie
stood. Claire did, too.

Frank pushed his glasses up the bridge of his
nose. "Good bye, then. I look forward to seeing you later in the
week."

Natalie snagged Claire's arm and hauled her
away. "Isn't he the cutest thing?" she whispered in her ear.

"Mmm. Not your usual type though."

"I'm in the mood for something different,"
Natalie said with a sigh.

"You make him sound like an appetizer or
dessert."

"Yum yum." Natalie licked her lips.

"Natalie!"

"Claire!"

They both laughed as they walked down the
hall to Claire's office.

"What were you and Mr. Macho doing behind
closed doors this morning?" Natalie asked.

"I wish you wouldn't call him that."

"Okay. How about Mr. Leave-me-alone,
I've-got-a-job-to-do?"

Claire sat at her desk. "He rejected your
advances?" That wasn't pleasure and relief she felt, was it?

Natalie shrugged. "He made it clear he wasn't
interested. Luckily, there are more fish in the ocean and I had
another nibble. Frank finally took the bait."

"Frank's not a fish, Natalie."

"Sure, he is. And a cute fish at that."
Natalie waggled her eyebrows.

"You're hopeless, you know it?"

"You've finally figured that out?"

"Just don't hurt Frank," Claire said. "He's a
sweet guy."

"I don't intend to hurt him."

"That's what you always say. I hate to break
this to you, but men weren't put earth just for you to sample, then
toss away."

"Hey, I like to play the field. Have a little
fun."

"One of these days, it's going to backfire on
you, Nat." Just like it had backfired on Claire. She'd never played
the field, but love and marriage had backfired on her. Big
time.