Page 23 of Undercover Hacker

The virus had been running for weeks. Hopefully, the server had enough storage capacity to have collected everything we needed. I could smack myself for forgetting.

“Can Bridget access the data?”

She could, but I didn’t want to drag Bridget into trouble any further than I already had. She had a family to think about.

Zane reached over and grabbed me around the waist. It was effortless for him to pull me on to his lap. I knew the gesture was intimate, and I should have fought back. But, the day had been draining, and it felt good to be in his arms.

“Yes.” I grabbed the cell phone and texted Bridget the information she needed to give Brock.

“No more talk about the op. I want to know why you left my bed last night.”

I couldn’t have this conversation sitting in his lap. The harder I tried to move, the tighter Zane’s arms became.

“Go on, Red,” Zane encouraged. “Tell me why.”

“Why do you care? Last night was to scratch an itch.”

“I highly doubt that’s all it meant to you. If it were just an itch, you would have still been there in the morning.”

This man was dangerous. He wanted to talk about emotions. Those are best kept buried in the deepest parts of your soul. If you let people in, they could hurt you.

“You could have any woman you wanted. Why are you pressing me?”

He squeezed my wrist and slowly dragged his thumb over the back of my arm. The touch felt so right. But, this man needed someone who wasn’t damaged goods.

“I’ve traveled the world. I’m at a point in my life where I want to think about the future. One-night stands do not appeal to me anymore. Last night, we had a connection, and you ran. Why can’t we see where it might go? I’m not saying we need to get married tomorrow.”

“We can’t have a future. When you find out what’s wrong with me…” I was beyond frustrated. Every word he spoke made me think there was hope.

Zane shifted me on his lap so he could see my eyes. He ran his hand down my face. At his touch, my breathing increased, and my heart raced.

Holy shit! This man can make my blood boil.

“Sophie, has any man ever made you feel this chemistry? If I wanted a quick lay, I would get one. I don’t. I want to be with you. Let's see where this goes. I don’t know why you keep acting like you’re damaged, when you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

I was damaged. The man we were after took the choice of having kids away from me many years ago. No man would want to be with a woman who can’t give him a son or daughter.

The pilot’s voice came over the speaker, letting us know we needed to prepare for landing. I scurried of Zane’s lap to the other seat.

He let out a sigh. “I will drop it for now, but this conversation is far from over.”

10

Zane

The day had been another cluster fuck and it wasn’t doing anything for my mood. Tomorrow, we were going on a partial mission, and doing it blind. If everything went as planned, I would have Sophie in my bed tonight, her long legs wrapped around me.

The problem was that my gut told me something was wrong. My instincts were screaming to pull back and take the mission slow. Brock was tracking the CIA agents who had attacked us earlier, and they hadn’t found our location. Nothing erroneous had surfaced. It was like the mission was too clean.

Being near to Sophie for the past week had my emotions running wild. I needed to go for a ten-mile run to release some of the tension that was building up. Taking out the CIA agents early this week did nothing to settle my nerves. My gut told me something bad was coming, and we hadn’t figured out what yet.

Brock was sifting through the data Sophie had stolen from the Russian Prime Minister’s computer. Nothing was connected to Yermushin, so far.

Antonio was sitting in front of the computer, talking to Brock. Brock was in his conference room, surrounded by operatives. The team was trying to dig up as much intel as they could on Yermushin.

Sophie’s fingers were flying across her keyboard. “This can’t be true. This can’t be true.”

I leaned over Sophie’s shoulder to see what she was looking at. “What can’t be true?”

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