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Authors: Addison Fox

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Suspense, #Contemporary

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BOOK: The Paris Assignment
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“Business doesn’t stop because we’ve got a problem. It can’t. That’s why I hired you, Campbell. Not to tell me how to run my business and not to ask me to change my plans. I hired House of Steele to find my problem and handle it and that’s what I expect you to do.”

The meal he’d dug into with gusto rolled over in his stomach and Campbell wondered—not for the first time—why the women in his life seemed to come in one category.

Stubborn and opinionated.

And when had he come to think of Abby as a woman in his life?

She was a job and she’d just made that point more than clear. Yet even as her unwillingness to change her mind chaffed, he couldn’t fully fault her.

He’d been hired for a specific purpose and it wasn’t her fault he’d not found her problem yet. Nor was he within his right to tell her to change her plans.

But damn it, something was
off.
It wasn’t anything he could fully define, but that singular thought continued to beat through him in hard waves.

Right along with the fear that he couldn’t keep her safe.

Chapter 7

F
or the second time in as many days, Abby struggled with both her words and her harsh attitude that had erupted in anger. She’d always prided herself on being a leader who accepted various points of view, synthesizing them into a responsible decision.

So why wasn’t she able to get any perspective about this situation?

She knew Campbell was only acting on the information he had at hand. It was why she’d hired House of Steele and his services. She also knew the man didn’t just understand technology, he understood the human behavior behind its use.

“You’re awfully quiet, but I can hardly credit it to a carb hangover since you picked at your breakfast.”

“I had a piece and a half of my French toast, smothered in butter and syrup and I ate all my bacon.”

“Okay. So if it isn’t a carb hangover, what has you so quiet?”

The city streets hummed around them as they walked the few blocks to the office. Even though there were people everywhere, the sheer volume of them ensured their conversation was a private one.

“You were a hacker before you became a good guy.”

“I’ve always been a good guy.”

“You know what I mean. The whole white-hat-black-hat thing.” Abby knew the terms and knew the various classifications for those who thought the challenge of infiltrating a business or government entity was not only fun, but could offer rather enterprising benefits. “You were a black hat, weren’t you?”

“What makes you say that?”

“Let’s just say I put two and two together.”

His eyebrows shot up but aside from that, his voice gave nothing away. “What, exactly, did you put together?”

“Your skills are extensive and you’ve got a good handle on the criminal underbelly of technology.”

“Because it’s my job.”

“And Kensington mentioned a few times in college that you were in trouble for something or other.”

Those eyebrows rose another notch. “Sold out by my sister?”

“No. She’s loyal and she’s a vault. I’m making the inference that ‘in trouble for something or other’ had something to do with technology. Especially since you knew how to change that cheerleader’s grade.”

They stopped at a crosswalk and his gaze drifted toward the Manhattan skyline. “Hoisted on my own petard.”

“That’s what you get for bragging about it.”

He smiled as he turned back toward her. “And here I thought we were sharing childhood memories.”

She knew he was avoiding an answer—or stalling to come up with one—but even in the evasion, she could still see that thin veneer of humor and easygoing nature she was fast coming to admire about him.

His still waters might run deep, but he knew how to navigate the waves with humor and a subtle aplomb that was appealing. He wasn’t a man who needed to push his opinions on you.

Instead, he had a quiet confidence that was incredibly appealing. Add on a mischievous smile and she felt all her flimsy reasons for trying to resist him crumbling around her feet.

“Since you’ve been hoisted, are you going to come clean?”

“All right. Yes, I had a somewhat misspent youth. I was well on my way before my parents died and after...well, it only sped up the train.”

“Why’d you stop going down that path?”

“My grandfather stepped in and gave me an ultimatum. If I didn’t go straight he was going to turn me in himself.”

The truth was so surprising—especially when she bumped it against her mental image of the very sweet and very gentlemanly Alexander Steele—she tripped as her heel caught in the sidewalk.

“Careful.” His hand snaked out and grabbed her elbow. Even through the waterproof material of her raincoat, Abby felt the heat. “You okay?”

“Of course.”

“Where was I? Oh, yes, my grandfather. He figured out what I was up to—”

“How?”

“I learned a long time ago not to question his methods. Suffice it to say, there’s very little he’s unaware of and what he might miss, my grandmother is right there to pick up the slack. It’s actually a bit scary.”

“They’re sweet.”

“Not quite the words that come to my mind first, but anyway. If you add on his various government connections he didn’t have all that tough a time figuring out it was me.”

“What tipped him off?”

“All that social engineering we discussed yesterday?” She nodded, encouraging him to continue. “That’s still the best way to get into a con and I’d probed him about two or three government projects he was involved with. I then used that knowledge to my advantage.”

“And like me, he figured out that two and two made four?”

“More like five or six—” he shot her a wide grin “—but you’ve got the gist of it.”

“Why’d you clean up your act?”

“Three reasons.”

When he didn’t elaborate, Abby couldn’t keep her curiosity at bay. “And they were?”

“I realized just how badly I’d disappointed him. The Steele family name has a long legacy of wealth, privilege and responsibility. My actions not only flew in the face of that, but it also put us all at risk.”

“And?”

“What had started out as fun wasn’t all that engaging any longer. Working on the actual project was a high but the after burn not so much. I never did it for the money, but rather so I could say I’d done it. And funny enough, when you’re doing things you’re not supposed to do, there’s not a lot of people you can turn around and brag to.”

“Which brings us to reason number three.”

“T-Bone.”

“Really? What’d he do, beat you up to get you to go straight?”

“He did me one better. He taught me how to use my skills to catch morons like me. He not only convinced me it was way more fun to be one of the white hats since we often have cooler gadgets, but he also proved to me that sooner or later, the good guys always get their man.”

Their walk at an end, Campbell pushed at the revolving door to her building, gesturing for her to walk through. “So that’s my story.”

Abby said her hellos to the lobby staff as she and Campbell crossed to the elevators, his words ringing in her ears.

Did the good guys always win?

In her experience, that wasn’t always the case. In fact, she’d often found the opposite in business. Those who were willing to be the most ruthless were often the most successful.

Even outside of the business world, she’d seen the ravages selfish individuals could cause, her stepmother sitting at the top of the heap.

She waited until they were once again alone in the elevator before pressing her thoughts. “I’m not sure you’re right about the good guys.”

“You don’t agree?”

“Let’s just say my experiences have clearly been different than yours.”

“Come now, Abby.” He reached for her hand and she took a sharp intake of breath at the contact. “You have to have had a few experiences that reinforce good choices.”

“I have. I just don’t think good always triumphs. I think there are a lot of bad people in this world who come out on top, over and over again.”

His eyes narrowed at that, that heady blue of his eyes growing cloudy with concern. “Has life really been that hard for you?”

“Of course not.” She tugged lightly on her hand but when he refused to let go, she just left it wrapped in his. “I lead a good life and I’ve got no complaints.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“It’s true. I’m not some poor little rich girl and I’m not going to try to pretend I am. Life has its challenges for all of us. No one is immune. I was just making a broader observation that I don’t think the bad guys always get caught.”

“I guess we’re going to agree to disagree on that one.”

“What about the problem here? What if you don’t find him? What if there is just a mysterious seven minutes we can’t identify and it ultimately becomes some small blip, annotated in our logs and forgotten about after enough time passes?”

“You won’t forget.” His hand tightened on hers as his gaze bored into hers. “And you know the seven minutes is only the beginning, not the end.”

“Which only reinforces my point.”

He was prevented from answering by the pinging of the elevator as it opened on her floor. She glanced back over her shoulder, his intense gaze never wavering from hers.

“Good breakfast?” Stef looked up from where she typed out something on her computer.

“It was nice to get out.” Abby tried for a smile after the sudden realization she was probably still frowning after her strange conversation with Campbell.

If she noticed the surly mood, Stef was unaffected as she pointed toward the edge of her desk. “Here’s your mail. I haven’t had a chance to go through it.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll toss it in my bag and catch up on the flight.”

“The car will be here at three to pick you both up.”

Abby didn’t miss Campbell’s pointed stare that suggested Stef’s comment only reinforced his earlier point. “Have you heard from the other board members?”

As Stef began rattling off various itineraries of the week’s attendees, Campbell slipped out the exit with a brief excuse. The woman waited until Campbell was out of earshot before switching topics. “He’s awfully easy on the eyes.”

“He is that.”

“And even better, you look like you enjoy each other’s company.”

Stef’s words caught her up short as Abby picked up her mail. She’d been deliberately vague about why she was meeting with him and had put the meeting on her calendar herself. What had started out as a matter of discretion now worked to her advantage.

“The timing’s not great.”

“Love rarely is.”

“Love?” Even though it was only pretend, Stef’s use of the word was like a cold shower. “We should probably take it a day at a time.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Her assistant’s eyes held a merry twinkle. “When you know you know.”

“Is that how you feel about your guy?”

“Absolutely. He came into my life unexpectedly and was exactly what I didn’t even know I needed.”

“Poetic.”

“Nah.” Stef waved a hand. “I’m just happy.”

Abby replayed the conversation in her mind as she walked back to her office. Although she knew there was no relationship with Campbell, she couldn’t deny the attraction.

An altogether inconvenient attraction,
her conscience whispered.

With a pile of work that still awaited her, Abby forced thoughts of the delectable Campbell Steele from her mind. It was time to get some work done.

The walk, food and fresh air had done her good. She was no longer tired, but she was a long way from finding her balance.

* * *

Lucas stepped into the waiting area at Charles de Gaulle and saw the driver who held a small placard with his name on it. He’d briefly toyed with having his driver drop him at the apartment he’d set up for what he was fast coming to think of as the final showdown, but knew the eagerness might cost him.

No need for that trip to show up in the driver’s logs.

No, he’d continue as planned and head for his hotel. He’d waited this long. There was no reason to let his impatience get the better of him.

A quick scan of his personal email had confirmed all was moving along right on schedule.

PACKAGE CONFIRMED.

It sure was.

The mousy woman had been a calculated choice, but Lucas couldn’t argue with how much of an asset she’d ended up being. Stef Nichols had been a wild card and he’d played his hand close as they got to know each other. For a woman who didn’t care all that well for her outward appearance, she’d been surprisingly adept naked, which had made the experience more pleasurable than he’d originally anticipated.

She’d also been more than accommodating when he’d manfully sobbed to her about his mother and her poor, broken life. Dear old Mom’s accidental pregnancy with him and the coldhearted McBane family who had done nothing for her. The repeated attempts through the years to meet and have a relationship with his father which had fallen on deaf ears.

The hard work he’d exhibited, pulling himself up by the bootstraps as he built his own reputation in the international business community.

Oh, yes, he’d worked Stef hard and she’d come through like a champ.

“Welcome to Paris, Mr. Brown. I’ve got the car waiting for you. I’ll just get your bags.”

Lucas barely paid the man any attention as he shifted his rolling suitcase into the man’s care. “This is all.”

“Then we can be on our way.”

Anticipation leaped in his veins as the September air wrapped around him. He’d always enjoyed Paris and knew this would be the best trip he’d ever made to the City of Lights.

Once they were in motion, Lucas dialed the New York number that never went to voice mail.

“Hello, love.”

He rolled his eyes at the platitude but kept the disdain from his words. The voice he’d worked long and hard to culture
just
so
came out with a heavy layer of dark, seductive notes blended in. “Ah, my love. Words that never fail to make me feel better.”

“How was your flight?”

“Short and quick. But most important, it has brought me to the last step.”

“Everything’s in place as you’d asked.”

“Ah, my sweet. You understand me and it is the greatest gift a man could hope for.” With the promise he’d dangled from the start, Lucas fed her more. “Next week. By next week we will be together and this will be behind us.”

He didn’t miss the sharp intake of breath on the other end of the phone, or the breathy tone of her voice. “I can’t wait.”

“All these years of waiting. All the endless hours of grief will be behind me as I begin my new life. As we begin our new life,” he added for good measure at the end.

Although Stef had been more than willing to go along with his requests, he’d worked hard to paint an image of Abigail that was less than flattering.

Her irrational outbursts when they sat in meetings.

Her demands of his company that simply weren’t possible.

And her inability to lead with the remotest sense of compassion.

It was lucky for him his half sister was known for her cool head and standoffish manner. He could only be grateful that tone and manner had extended to her dealings with her staff. While Stef had been hesitant at first to believe him, he had worn her down with examples while playing on her innate desperation for a happy ending.

BOOK: The Paris Assignment
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ads

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