"Sure." She double checked the door was locked.
"Disconnect from the company Wi-Fi. I'm going to send something to your personal email."
"Hold on." She lowered her phone and navigated to settings, then disconnected Wi-Fi. "Done."
"You were on the right track with the tender proposals. They were altered from when they first entered the system to favor one particular company-Falzier Manufacturing."
Falzier who'd been successful in their bid. Her mouth went dry. "Do you know who by?"
"The digital signature belonged to Neil Stout."
She breathed out and shut her eyes. That much came as no surprise. His new car triggered her alarm, as did his sudden outspokenness about the directions they should take in meetings. In fact she'd heard neither Frank or Bob, for that matter, argue either one way or the other. Frank had been able to sit back and Neil and a few others had made all the arguments for him.
All he had to do was pound his invisible gavel and declare the situation decided.
"I'm going to dig deeper on this, but in the meantime, take a look at the files I'm sending and keep your head down."
"I will. Thanks, Andy."
"No problem."
The phone went silent, then her email beeped. She leaned on the wall and opened her email, scanning the files.
Her stomach continued to churn. The evidence was there that Neil had altered the files, but the reason why wasn't.
And that reason, she had no doubt, had something to do with her uncle. She locked her phone screen and tucked it away in her jacket pocket and unlocked the utility cupboard.
She froze, the door open less than a foot. Bob slid out of the office a few doors down-Neil's office.
But it that wasn't what froze her-he looked around both ways, like someone crossing a street full of traffic before dashing out and around the corner. She shut the door again.
No. Not Bob.
She brushed back her hair. Calm the heck down. This was Connor's fault. Just because she'd almost trusted him and he'd turned out to be a sneaky, liar, did not mean everyone was. There were a hundred reasons Bob would be in Neil's office.
All perfectly reasonable reasons.
She opened the door again and squealed. Connor stood there. What door of horrors was this-every time she opened the damned thing was it going to show her something she wanted to see even less than the last thing?
She shoved it close. He pushed back, and no surprise, not even her full weight was enough to stop it from shoving open or him from barging in.
He locked the door.
She backed up. "What are you doing here-I fired you."
He crossed his massive arms. His white shirt strained around muscles, sending hot shivers of want through her. "I already told you I'm not yours to fire."
"And I told you I'll go right to Frank."
"We both know you won't because we both know you don't have enough to do that yet." His voice went dangerously low.
She didn't look at his face, couldn't watch treacherous eyes. Who knew what he'd figured out. "So what, you going back to-what did you assholes call it, covert security?"
"If that's what it takes. You don't have to see me if you don't want." He uncrossed his arms. "But I'll still be seeing you."
"Spying on me you mean."
"Call it what you want." He shifted closer. So close. "You're mine to protect and that's what I'm going to do."
She rubbed her arms, a shiver running over her. His to protect. That too sounded so damned sincere. So freaking enticing.
"There's something you need to know." Shadows played across his stubbled jaw.
"More than you're a sneaky spy?"
He stared at her for a long moment. "It's not just leaking information you have on your hands, someone's spreading rumors about you. That's why the hate mail, the protestors, and the rest of it."
A prickle of dread pierced her stomach. Why would that even come as a surprise? "Then tell Frank he can keep on playing this game all he likes, but soon enough those shares will be released to me, and there's nothing he can do to scare me away before then."
"I don't believe this is Frank."
She snorted. Well he'd say that wouldn't he.
"Someone wants you gone badly." He grabbed her elbow. "What are you doing that makes you such a threat? That makes someone want you gone? Makes them want your credibility destroyed?"
She staggered back, mind full of the email in her inbox. There was a reason. Anyone with a vested interest in Falzier getting Halifax business, would see her as the number one obstacle.
Her heart pounded. She knew now without a doubt that this was why these strange things were happening. She just needed proof.
Connor held her elbow. She shook him off.
Was he in on this? The USB. He stole the tender information.
She stared at him. Then why'd he ask her these questions? Why make her question things if he were trying to conceal them?
Her breath got stuck at her sternum. Maybe this was a test. Maybe he tried to see how much she knew-determine the measure of the threat she posed.
Her head pounded. The ends of the control she'd been struggling to hold onto slipped out of her grip. How had she been so naïve-thinking he really wanted her?
Tears burned trails over her skin.
Connor's features sagged with a look that made her stomach burn. "Don't cry, baby, I never wanted to make you cry."
"Why are you doing this?" She swallowed down the sobs. He already thought of her as weak. She hated adding to that image. "Your cover is blown-just quit."
His grimaced, pressing his lips together as if speaking would split his tongue. "I can't quit you." He said that breathlessly, and those words rushed against her like a tidal wave. "I should've quit. I should've quit when I found myself watching you just because I wanted to."
She licked her salty lips. Because he'd wanted to?
"When I knew I couldn't do this job without having you, I should've resigned." He closed in until her back pressed up against the wall. "But I can't quit you."
She closed her eyes and shook her head. More tears streamed.
He couldn't mean that.
"I have to be the one-I can't let anyone else protect you."
Her eyes opened. "What does that mean?"
"It means I'm not still here because someone is paying me to be, I can't go because I care." His brows furrowed, his expression so grave, it was impossible to imagine that he didn't mean this. "I worry about you. Not just about your safety. I worry when you're stressed. I worry when you're unhappy."
His words leveled her world. He said everything she'd ever wanted to hear. Played to every fantasy.
Of not being invisible.
Or being irresistible.
Of being wanted, and cared for.
Her eyes flared wider and she saw him-saw him in a way that would stay with her forever.
"I fucking worry about you not eating breakfast. I worry about every damn little thing about you. I worry about you like I've never worried about anything in my life. Because I care. I fucking care, Charlie. I care so much it makes me scared. I can't help needing to make everything okay."
He rubbed her arms, her skin burned beneath his touch.
"That's why I took the files and hid it from you."
Silence radiated between them. He held his chest high and tight, as if he was holding his breath. Hers heaved.
We're both screwed.
She reached for him, curled her fingers into his shirt, not knowing what to do, what to say. Wondered how everything could feel so damned right yet so magnificently wrong. She slammed her chest against his, pulled his neck toward her and kissed him. She sank her tongue into his mouth, held the back of his head and kissed him with every bit of need, every inch of sorrow-every ounce of desperate, defeated yearning she possessed. And it still wasn't enough.
Until he kissed her back.
His control broke like a dam bursting through concrete. He wrapped his arms around her and crushed her into him hard enough to hurt, hard enough for her ribs to feel the pinch. Their teeth clashed, once, twice but they couldn't stop. Couldn't gentle the passion. But that passion didn't cure anything. Kissing, clutching, squeezing didn't ease the pain inside her chest.
Connor lifted her against him and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He pressed her back against the wall. Their lips grew hungrier, mouths opened wider, their tongues plunged deeper, became more frantic.
She reached between them and pushed her hand into his pants, grasped him urgently, tugged his cock closer to where her legs surrounded him. Connor supported her with one arm, grasped the stockings between her thighs and tore them open then pushed her panties aside. She tore open his pants and guided his cock toward her but he beat her to her goal, and pushed the thick head of his cock between her folds.
He devoured her cry with his mouth and entered her in a jarring thrust that rocketed through her. The friction stung for an instant but there was no slowing down. Her body adjusted, took him in as he bucked, thrust, pounded her with his cock. Her back hit the wall over and over. She held on, clawed at him with her fingers, kissed him as if he were the only source of oxygen in space.