Page 24 of The Hacker
“I wanted to check in with you about something,” Vicky said, fluffing her blonde hair. “Have you gotten any more complaints about clients’ data usage on their phones?”
Dawn put down her fork. “I thought you weren’t worried about that.”
Vicky shrugged. “A couple of people mentioned it to Ray so maybe it’s more of a deal than I assumed.”
“Yes, a few more customers have said something about it.” Dawn downplayed the griping because she didn’t want Vicky fixing it before Leland figured out what was going on. “Are you going to get your IT guys involved?”
“Maybe I should.” Vicky tapped a painted talon on the picnic table. “Don’t want the customers unhappy.”
“Give it the weekend and see if it resolves itself,” Dawn found herself saying.
“Yeah, I’ll do that.” Vicky slithered off the bench. “Thanks.”
Crap, they had a deadline now. Even though Vicky’s IT fixers seemed to be inept, once they started messing with the router, it might scare away the dark web people.
She was glad she’d summoned up the nerve to send that email to Leland.
The afternoon seemed to drag by, but finally she was lounging at the front desk, watching the door for Leland’s arrival. She wanted to get a read on his mood about her invitation. She was pretty good at body language, and her awareness of him made her almost hypersensitive to his.
The door swung up and she tensed until she saw his smile, heavy-lidded and focused entirely on her. Heat seared through her. Even the way he walked—with an almost predatory stride that shrugged off all distractions—made her shiver with arousal.
When he stopped, he was close—very close—so she had to look up to meet his gaze. “I’m glad you emailed me,” he said, his drawl soft as velvet.
She swallowed. “Me too. It’s good that you were free.”
A shadow of guilt crossed his face. “I made myself free.”
Pleasure flushed her cheeks at the admission that he’d made room in his loaded schedule for her. “Let’s get you warmed up on the treadmill.”
“I meant to come early for that but work got in the way. Does a brisk three-block walk from the limo count?” He fell into step beside her and she swore she could feel the stir of air around him brushing over her skin.
“How about I work warming up into your session so you can skip the treadmill? I’ll meet you in the training room.” She veered off to pick up her tablet while Leland dropped his gym bag in his locker. As she walked away, she let the grin she’d been suppressing pull the corners of her mouth up. However, she stopped herself from doing a dance step across the gym floor.
She’d gotten over the grinning when Leland joined her where she’d set up for their session. But the hot look that still smoldered in his eyes stroked delicious tingles over her skin. The next hour was going to be the most exquisite kind of torture. Then who knew what would happen afterward?
Starting him with some easy sidesteps and lunges, she moved in closer and lowered her voice. “There’s been a development in our project.” One that made her impulsive dinner invitation even more timely.
The gleam in his eyes flickered out. “And you decided it would be better to discuss it elsewhere. Hence, dinner away from the gym.”
He’d gotten it backward but should she tell him that? “That’s not the reason for dinner.”
He straightened from his lunge, his brows drawn down in puzzlement. “Is the development positive or negative?”
“It speeds up the timetable.That’sthe reason for dinner.” She gave him a smile that held all the sexual interest she felt.
He answered her smile with a slow curve of his lips, all the focused intensity alight in his eyes again. “Ah,thattimetable has sped up as well.”
He understood. Maybe it was good to hang around with a smart guy. You didn’t have to spell things out for him. It saved some embarrassment. Although she’d only asked him if he’d like to have dinner after their training session, so it shouldn’t be that big a deal. It just was, somehow.
“Are you going to swim afterward?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No time. I’ve got to get back to the office after we, er,eat.”
She ratcheted up the intensity level of his workout just a little so he was huffing by the end of it. He braced his hands on his knees. “Is this to make up for my lack of swimming?”
“You don’t want to lose ground,” she said with a grin.
He narrowed his eyes at her before he grabbed his sweat towel and mopped his face and neck, using one corner to wipe off his glasses. His T-shirt was dark with sweat and clung to the pecs and abs that his swimming had honed to underwear-model perfection.
