Page 25 of Wired (Buchanan-Renard 13)

  Standing between the two tall and powerful men, Allison had to concede she was grateful for their support. She had always thought of herself as someone who was strong and independent, who never relied on anyone else. Now, with Liam at her side, she understood how it felt to be protected. She had come to rely on him, and that was galling to admit. Very nice, though.

  Noah pointed to two monitors that covered the small ballroom where Brett was to make his pitch. Allison moved closer to get a good look. The audience of twenty to thirty people sat in the folding chairs facing the stage as they waited for the presentation to begin. She recognized a few of them. They were millionaires and billionaires, yet no one would guess that fact based on their attire. Some were dressed in business suits, but the majority wore the uniform of most of the tech people she knew: jeans or khakis with T-shirts or sweaters. Several appeared to be acquainted and chatted amiably. At the side of the room a long table draped with a white tablecloth was loaded with a lavish spread of food on silver trays, everything from shrimp cocktail to caviar. Next to it stood a bartender behind a counter. He was ready to offer any drink the guests could want, but no one seemed interested. Allison noticed several of the guests glancing impatiently at their phones or watches as though there were more important uses of their time than listening to one more pie-in-the-sky dreamer who was convinced he had developed the next revolution for the computer world.

  “Do you know any of them?” Noah asked.

  “A few but just by reputation. I’ve never met any of them.”

  The side door to the meeting room opened, and in walked Brett. He was followed by a man who scanned the crowd as he took a step up on the platform and stood next to Brett. The man was older than Brett by about twenty years and heavier by thirty pounds. He wore a tailored black suit and a crisp white shirt with cuff links. His power red tie said he expected to be taken seriously. His hair was dark and thick and he wore it short, spiked up with hair gel. When he folded his arms, one couldn’t help noticing the huge ring, set with a cluster of diamonds, and the large gold Rolex watch. The message was clear. He had money, and he wanted everyone to know it.

  Brett didn’t need a microphone, but he used one anyway.

  “Most of you know me or have heard of me. For those who haven’t, my name is Brett Keaton, and standing next to me is Fred Stiles. Once I finished the design for this software, I took it to him and he immediately got on board. He’ll take care of the financial on the sale. Whoever buys this is going to set the world on fire.”

  Liam continued to watch the screen, and then he said, “I’m going to run his name.”

  “I’ll do it,” Noah said. “I’ve got a feeling we aren’t going to like what we find.”

  As it turned out, he was right. One phone call was all it took to know that Fred Stiles was a sleazebag. He had been involved in one shady deal after another. He’d made a lot of money fleecing the unsuspecting. Like a shark who smelled blood in the water, Stiles could sense vulnerability. He’d sweep into a distressed company, drain it of every dollar, then walk away. And all of it was legal. There had been countless complaints filed against him, but nothing ever stuck.

  “Sounds like a real nice guy,” Liam commented.

  “That’s not all,” Noah said. “He’s been investigated several times for his connection to organized crime. They haven’t been able to pin anything on him yet, but they’re pretty sure he had something to do with a couple of mob executions.” After giving his report on Stiles, Noah added, “He’s evidently got quite a temper.”

  “I’d sure love to help him lose it,” Liam said.

  Allison’s eyes narrowed on the jerk who had stolen her work and was now bragging about it. When Liam took hold of one of her hands, she thought he was offering her comfort and appreciated the gesture, until it dawned on her that he was holding on to her in case she tried to bolt.

  The lights behind the podium dimmed as Brett continued to boast. “My software will take care of every security threat out there and some you may not even know about yet. No longer will you have to update your firewalls or your antivirus and antispyware software. Identities and passwords will be protected from hackers like never before.” He picked up a remote control from the podium and turned to the screen. “Now I’ll give you a peek at the product and then answer your questions.”

  He pushed a button, and a video appeared on the screen. Earth as seen from outer space came into view, and the shot grew closer and closer until it settled on a busy urban street with cars and people rushing about helter-skelter. An unseen announcer with a deep baritone voice said, “The world is a hectic place, and the speed at which it’s changing is increasing exponentially. Information is king. Protecting that information, whether it be personal or business, has become one of the major challenges of our lifetime.” The voice continued, and after a few of the security problems of the digital world were described, Brett paused the video and turned to his audience. With a self-assured and rather arrogant air, he said, “I now introduce you to the solution for every security problem you will ever face.”

  Some of Brett’s guests leaned forward with interest. Others looked at the screen with obvious skepticism.

  Brett pushed the button again. The screen came to life and what appeared to be the name of the software materialized in letters too small to read. As they moved forward, they became bigger. When the word was almost legible, the video suddenly stopped. The screen went blank. Brett pushed the button again, and then again. Nothing happened. He glanced around at the faces staring up at him and could feel the perspiration on his hands. He turned back to the screen and gave the button another stab. This time the video started again, but it wasn’t exactly what Brett was expecting.

  In big bold letters a message scrolled down the screen: Brett Keaton, did you really think you could steal my work and get away with it? For those of you watching, my name is Allison Trent, and I’m the creator of this program. There’s a vital piece missing, but Brett isn’t smart enough to know it. You’re a thief, Brett, a thief and a liar and a cheat.

  While the audience watched, the words on the screen and the program began to disintegrate and fade away. Now only four words appeared: Brett is a thief.

  At first, the audience was stunned, and then there was a mixture of reactions. Some laughed because it was all so absurd. Some were angry because their time had been wasted. And all were united in their disgust with Brett Keaton, even letting it spill over to his associate, Fred Stiles, who also looked furious.

  “Man, oh man,” Noah said, and began to laugh. “Look at Brett. His face is bloodred. What’s he doing?”

  “He’s trying to stop the message,” Liam guessed.

  “He can’t stop it,” Allison said. On the surface she was as calm and cool as a summer breeze, but inside she was boiling. She tried to pull away from Liam, determined to give Brett a piece of her mind, but he held tight. She wasn’t going anywhere until he let her.

  Brett’s audience couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

  “She’s lying,” Brett shouted. “She’s a jealous bitch and she’s lying. Wait. Let me explain. She must have hacked into my program. . . . Wait. . . .” To say that Brett was frantic was an understatement.

  His partner didn’t move at all until he and Brett were alone in the room. Then he attacked. He grabbed Brett by his shoulders and shook him. “You told me she wouldn’t make trouble,” he screamed.

  “She . . . she can’t,” he stammered. “I made sure the program was finished before I took it. It wasn’t copyrighted yet. I never saw her show it to anybody.” He was panicked, and as Stiles tightened his grip, he rushed on. “She wasn’t supposed to find out until it was too late. Once we sold the program, we could keep it out of court for years while she fought us. Even then it would be impossible for her to prove. And she doesn’t have the money for a legal fight.” He took a deep breath and added, “She’s g

oing to be sorry she did this to me.”

  “To us,” Stiles said as he loosened his hold and gave Brett a shove away from him. “I want to know if you think she was telling the truth. Is there a missing part?”

  Brett didn’t have to think about it long. “Yes, I believe her.”

  “Why didn’t you know that? You did look at the software, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, of course I did. I tested it over and over again, and it looked complete.”

  “You should have known,” Stiles muttered. “We have to get the missing part. It has to be buried somewhere in her computer. There’s too much money involved to let this go. We’ve got to get it,” he repeated. “No matter what it takes.”

  Brett was still irate, but there was a tinge of self-pity in his voice when he said, “She ruined my reputation. I was humiliated and embarrassed.”

  Stiles agreed. “She shouldn’t be able to get away with this.”

  “No, she shouldn’t.”

  The two men continued to talk as they walked out of the room together.

  “I’m guessing they forgot the mikes were still on,” Noah suggested.

  “Or they didn’t care,” Liam said.

  “In their minds I’ve become the villain. Brett steals my work and then blames me when I ruin his plans? He’s beyond contemptible,” Allison railed.

  “What do you want to do about this?” Noah directed his question to Liam.

  “Excuse me.” Allison finally got her hand away from Liam’s and stepped back. “I’ll decide what’s to be done. This is my problem, not yours.”

  “Ordinarily I would agree with you.” Liam told the lie without cracking a smile. “But you’re Phillips’s asset, so he has to know about this and handle it. I will, of course, offer to help.”

  Hands on her hips, Allison responded, “How come I’m your asset when it’s convenient for you and Phillips’s asset when it isn’t?”

  “It’s a quandary,” Liam answered.

  “I’d call it a dilemma,” Noah remarked.

  “They’re pretty much the same thing,” Liam said.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

  They were having a fine time teasing her. “Know what I think?” she asked.

  “That you should let us do our jobs?” Liam asked. He evaded an argument by placing his hands on her shoulders and turning her toward the door. She was as stiff as starch.

  “I’m still going to tell you what I think whenever I want to,” she grumbled.

  He smiled. “I figured you would.”

  When they reached the main floor, Noah said his good-byes and left. Allison and Liam continued to walk across the lobby. When they reached the entrance, Allison suddenly stopped. “Is that Brett waiting for his car? It is, isn’t it? If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to have a few words with him.” Her voice was shaking when she got the last sentence out.

  Liam grabbed her arm before she could take off. Exasperated, he said, “Didn’t we decide that was a bad idea?”

  “No, you and Noah decided it was a bad idea. I didn’t.”

  There was a small alcove near the bell captain’s desk, and without any explanation, Liam pulled her toward it and told her to stay put.

  “What do you mean, ‘stay put’? And will you stop dragging me around!” She was about to go into a full-blown lecture on the merits of good manners and suggest he might want to get some until she noticed he wasn’t paying any attention to her. Standing directly in front of her, he was looking across the lobby as he unbuttoned his jacket and unsnapped the leather holster securing his gun.

  Liam knew Brett hadn’t seen them, but Fred Stiles and the guard hired to protect the door from unwanted guests during their presentation had seen them. They were coming at them, and coming fast. The thick-shouldered guard with squinty eyes reached them first. Standing just a foot away, he looked up at Liam and said, “You don’t intimidate me. Get out of my way. I want to talk to that bitch hiding behind you.”

  Liam didn’t move. In a voice Allison had never heard before, he said, “Get the hell out of here.”

  “That troublemaker cost me a lot of money tonight. I was supposed to get a bonus if everything went smooth. She’s the reason it all fell apart, so she owes me.” He tried to push Liam out of his way, but Liam didn’t budge. Then the man tried to shove him in his chest next. Liam had had enough of pretending to be a nice guy. He grabbed the man’s hand and twisted his fingers back as he turned him and half lifted him, slamming him into the wall.

  Stiles looked appalled by the guard’s behavior. Liam knew his outrage was all a pretense.

  People coming and going through the doors of the hotel didn’t notice the guard, who had dropped to the floor inside the alcove. When he slowly sat up and rubbed the side of his head, he looked dazed.

  Allison was amazed by Liam’s strength. She knew he was muscular. She should have known, for she had kissed and caressed every part of him. Still, to twist a man’s fingers, lift him, and slam his head into the wall took remarkable strength. And a temper. She was shocked by that revelation. Liam had always been so calm and easygoing with everyone . . . until now.

  Unfortunately, the confrontation didn’t end with the guard. Stiles tried to walk around Liam to get to Allison, but Liam wasn’t about to let that happen, either. He quickly blocked Stiles.

  “I want to talk to her,” Stiles protested.

  “No,” Liam said. “Now get out of here.”

  “I guess I’ll have to get my attorneys involved, then,” he threatened, glaring at her before abruptly turning and storming away. The guard, finally regaining his feet, staggered behind him.

  Allison had been silent long enough. “I’d love it if you did,” she called after them.

  She’d sounded so thrilled by the possibility Liam laughed. It took all the discipline he possessed not to pull her into his arms and kiss her the way he’d been thinking about all day. It suddenly occurred to him he’d been fighting an impossible war. He couldn’t stay away from her. Then again, he didn’t want to.

  “Are you ready to get out of here?” His voice was gruff.

  —

  Allison waited until they were back in her apartment to lecture him. “You didn’t need to use such force with that guard. You could have—”

  He cut her off. “He called you a bitch. I didn’t like it.”

  “You can’t go around slamming heads into walls just because you don’t like the names they call me.”

  “Apparently, I can,” he replied. “Because I just did.”

  She kicked off her shoes and picked them up. She stopped at her bedroom door and turned. Frowning, she asked, “Is this a pattern? Do you punch all men who insult your assets?”

  “No, just the ones who insult you.”

  She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. He was walking toward the door, and she couldn’t let him leave without answering a question for her. She’d wanted to ask him for days and so far hadn’t been able to get up the courage. Now or never, she thought.

  “Liam, wait. I want to ask you something, and I want you to be completely honest with me. I need to know . . . if this makes you uncomfortable . . .” Her voice was whisper soft and apologetic.

  He couldn’t imagine what was going on inside that brilliant but decidedly confused mind of hers. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like the question and told himself that, no matter what she asked, he would not get angry. Unless, of course, she wanted another favor for Will. Then he’d probably end up yelling at her.

  Bracing himself, he said, “Go ahead and ask.”

  “Do you think I’m sexy?”

  “Do I . . . what?”

  “Do you think I’m sexy?”

  To say he was taken by surprise was an understatement. Had she not looked so serious, he would have laughed.

&nb

sp; Allison waited. Liam stood there a full minute without saying a word. Was he trying to think of something diplomatic to say that wouldn’t hurt her feelings? She felt so foolish then and wished she hadn’t asked. Then he removed his jacket and loosened his tie as he walked over to her with that slow, easy smile of his.

  “Yeah, I find you sexy.”

  Liam pulled her to him, stared into her eyes, and waited. She dropped her shoes, and the second her arms went around his neck, his mouth covered hers. All he had to do was touch her, and his entire body reacted. How could she not know that? No woman had ever made him burn with desire the way Allison did. Every time she looked at him he wanted to take her into his arms. He wanted to cover her with his body and make love to her. He wanted to be inside her. He wanted to hear the sexy sounds she made, to feel her nails digging into his shoulders, to wrap himself in her warmth and her feminine scent. To be overwhelmed by her.

  He backed away long enough to ask, “Do you . . .”

  “Yes,” she whispered. There was no playing hard to get, no hesitation. “Assuming you want to take me to bed.”

  “Yes.” He kissed her again. Her lips were so soft. He loved the way she gave herself so freely. He loved the low purr she made in the back of her throat when she was aroused. Hell, there wasn’t anything he didn’t love about her.

  He led her to the bedroom, leaving a trail of their clothes on the floor, and they fell onto the bed, wrapped up in each other. He couldn’t slow down. She didn’t want him to. He was mindless to everything but finding a release from the tension building for both of them. It seemed to him they became one then. She arched against him, cried out his name, and tightened around him, her grip strong on his shoulders.

  “Let go,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”

  When the intensity of their lovemaking was over, Liam rolled onto his back and closed his eyes, exhausted. He didn’t want to think about the complications. He tried to sleep, but there was a war raging inside him. His conscience was on the offensive, and it was time he came to grips with what he was doing here. His actions in the last couple of months had been impulsive and definitely out of character for him. He was accustomed to a life on the move, never getting too close to anyone or setting down roots. That was what he had signed up for. Lately, however, something had changed. He’d rearranged some assignments just so he could return to Boston. He’d told himself he needed to stay close to Allison because there were threats against her, and he felt responsible. At one point he’d even been on his way to the airport and turned around so that he could make sure she was okay. And every time he was near her, he couldn’t seem to control himself. Granted, she had been a willing partner and had agreed there were no commitments or expectations. The sex had been amazing, but was that all it was? Sex? At some point he would have to face reality and get back to his job and his life on the move. What would happen then?