crossed her legs and waved me to the seat next to her. “Sit down, Mr. Steele.”
The take-charge attitude from such a diminutive person was an unexpected turn-on. I let her have the leeway. For now.
I sat, dragging my gaze from her shapely calves and thighs. “One thing you should know—I won’t be managed. If you want me to catch this...person, you’ll let me do my job.”
She stared at me for a moment, then shrugged. “We’ll get to that in a moment.”
Again, I tried not to react like a horny teenager to the sound of her voice, but God, it was something else. Hell, from the top of those roughly chopped locks to the tips of her boots, she was something else.
“Is Steele really your last name?” she asked abruptly, her slender arms folded.
I raised an eyebrow. “Do you always go out dressed like that?” Okay, not how I’d wanted to start, but it was a pertinent question. I didn’t have a problem with the way any woman dressed, but some guys out there were sick enough to form vile opinions about women based on the way they dressed.
Her pointy little chin rose. “What’s wrong with the way I dress?”
I laughed, absently noting how the sound scraped my throat. “Nothing to me. But everything to the wrong person.”
She inhaled sharply. “What does that mean?”
“That I hope your stalker is the type who’s just obsessed with your outer appearance. Those are the easiest to catch because they can’t help themselves. They’ll slip up and attempt to make physical contact with you sooner rather than later.”
A tiny shiver went through her but her gaze didn’t waver. “Why are you assuming the stalker’s interest is sexual?”
“Because I have eyes. You’re a fucking knockout. But if you say it’s not, I’m willing to delay a final verdict on the bastard until I hear all the facts.”
A light blush bloomed into her cheeks. From the way her lips pressed together I could tell she hated that little evidence of her emotions. I enjoyed it a little too much. “Are you always this blunt?” she asked.
I folded my arms to prevent them from doing something stupid. Like tracing that blush down to her throat. “Always. That going to be problem?”
Her small fingers gripped her biceps. “Only if you don’t like having it reciprocated.”
“I’m good with blunt. I prefer it, even. And yes, Steele is really my name.”
It was one of the few facts my mother blessed me with in the midst of her dark despair; and one of the first things I did when I established solid, reliable contacts through my work was to find the man whose blood coursed through my veins. Turned out I came from a long line of mostly no-good Steeles. A shocking percentage had been criminals. Of those that were alive, including my father, I wanted nothing to do with in this lifetime.
I refocused on her as she recrossed her legs, and I couldn’t stop myself from staring. The hem of her black leather skirt had ridden up to midthigh, and she was making no move to pull it down. That tiny bit of exhibitionism ramped up my temperature another hundred notches. My tongue grew thicker and I watched her foot bounce for several seconds before I realized she was waiting for me to speak.
I cleared my throat and forced my brain back on the right track. “You think your stalker isn’t interested in you personally. So it’s work related?”
“I think so.”
“Okay. Tell me about the project you’re working on.”
She hesitated.
“I need to know where to start looking. Who to rule out,” I pushed.
She toyed with the tiny spikes on her wrist cuff as she weighed her words. “It’s an algorithm that significantly comprises data. On a small scale it can store almost fifteen times as much data as on the ordinary thirty-two-gigabyte chip you use on your phone.”
Okay, that blew my mind a little. But I suspected my mind was about to be blown even further. “And on a larger scale?”
“If our planned launch is successful next month, it can render almost all the current data storage algorithms obsolete in under a year.” She spoke with quiet but fierce pride.
I gave a low whistle. “And you wrote the code? All of it?”
There was no false modesty. Just a firm nod. “Yes. It’s all mine.”
“That’s impressive.”
Her gaze rose from her wrist to mine. The determined fire and pride that burned in her eyes said she knew what she was capable of, and was hell-bent on going after it. I could see how that would piss a few male egos off.
“Thank you,” she responded in a low, husky voice.
Impossibly, the evidence of power she held in her small body and that huge brain of hers turned me on even more. I was a greedy enough asshole to admit that I wanted to experience what that power blazing through her felt like. I wanted to see her drunk on it, if only for a moment, so I could feel the intoxicating afterburn of it.
But that urge would have to be curtailed for a while because, unfortunately, her revelation had thrown open several avenues where the threat could be coming from.
I rose, thankful that with the much bigger problem on my mind, my body was calming down a little from its sexual frenzy. Although I still needed to turn away to hide the semi-erection throbbing behind my fly. I was crossing the room when I heard her question.
“Is something wrong?”
I glanced at her over my shoulder. “That depends on how wide your circle of trust is. And how wide their circles are. I suggest we get things moving sooner rather than later.” I pulled out my phone and was about to hit the first number on my speed dial when it blared to life.
Maggie’s uncanny timing was impressive. But not if she was calling with anything that might distract me from Lily Gracen.
“Yes?” My voice was terser than I intended, but what the hell. The night was turning out to be interesting in some ways and extremely frustrating in others.
“Just checking in. On the off chance I blew it, I wanted to know if I should tender my resignation now or get some sleep and do it in the morning,” Maggie said with a pinch of sarcasm that straddled the fine line between amusing and insubordinate.
But despite my irritation, I toyed with giving her a bonus for landing me this job.
“We have a new client.”
“Yes! Great job, Maggie. I’ve no idea what I’d do without you, Maggie. I’ll even consider giving you that pay raise you’ve been hinting at for the last six months, Maggie.”
“Keep talking about yourself in the third person and your boss will think you’re a lunatic and fire your ass.”
“I don’t want that. At all. What do you need me to do?” she asked, back in my preferred super-efficient
