The Paris Assignment

Campbell slid his long frame into the limo, the fading evidence of a shower curling his slightly damp hair at his nape as he shifted toward her on the bench seat. The driver had the door closed and the light winked off overhead as Campbell’s leg brushed against hers.

“You look beautiful.”

That anticipation morphed another determined step toward infatuation as she allowed her gaze to settle on his mouth. “And you look very handsome. Not the bohemian I’d taken you for.”

His lips quirked into a slow smile. “What?”

“When the driver mentioned we were headed to the West Village, I pegged you as the resident of a bohemian studio for sure.”

Where she expected a quick retort, instead a far more sober note tinged his face with the slightest edges of sadness as the smile faded. “It was my parents’ first home. My mother’s sister kept it until she retired to Florida and I moved in a few years ago.”

Of course.

“I’m sure it’s absolutely lovely.”

Abby forced herself to keep the sympathy at a minimum, but knew instinctively she’d hit a raw nerve. Charles and Katherine Steele had been killed in a car accident a few years before she and Kensington became college roommates. Although she’d visited some of the family’s other homes, the brownstone on the Upper East Side that now served as House of Steele’s headquarters had been the most frequent destination. Even so, she knew their wealth had extended to other homes.

Other memories.

“What’s that look for?”

She saw the question in his gaze before adding a question of her own. “I’m trying to understand how it is we’ve never met. I’ve known your sister for twelve years.”

“I had quite a few years where I didn’t spend much time at home.”

“What changed?”

“A lot of things.” He shrugged, the motion casual, but she knew there was much more behind his words. “I grew up, mostly.”

“It happens to the best of us.”

“I suppose it does.” The shadows faded from his eyes, replaced with another vivid, killer smile. “You bring up a good point, though, which reminds me you never answered my question earlier. About how we met.”

“I’ll follow your lead.”

“Nope. We need to be in sync on this, especially if we’re asked separately.”

The point was a legitimate one and she threw out the first thing that came to mind. “Walking in the park.”

“Too cliché.”

“Cliché?”

“This is New York. A lot of people meet in the park.”

“Which would make it a logical way to meet.”

He shook his head. “Nope. It’s too efficient. You strike me as the type who pops in her earbuds, does her run and pays no attention to anything, or anyone, around you. Something else.”

The urge to argue was strong, but she had to give him credit for being spot-on. “How’d you know I was a runner?”

“Those legs.” His gaze roamed lightly over her body and she sucked in a breath at the electricity that hummed underneath her skin at the perusal.

“Hmm. All right. How about at a business meeting?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Then people will ask what I do, leading to another lie.”

Abby had to give him credit. What started out as a simple exercise was rapidly morphing into a more serious discussion where walking in unprepared could give them away. “What do you do, then? You know. If I’m asked.”

“I’m in software. If anyone pushes any harder, say fractal wave patterns and it’s usually more than enough to shut them up.”

“You do realize fractal wave patterns are a legitimate, documented phenomenon in the financial industry. What are you going to do if you get a banker asking the question?”

“Ramble.”

She had to laugh at that. “You do this often?”

“Often enough to know that people really don’t want to know the ins and outs of a computer geek’s mind.”

“All right. Let’s just say we met on an internet dating site and be done with it.”

“I don’t need to get a girl through my computer.”

She shook her head at his sexist—and outdated—comment. “First, it’s a perfectly respectable way to meet someone. Second, you do live your life attached to a computer. It would make sense.”

“No.”

“Fine. You’ve got a better idea?”

“We met through my sister. A simple family connection. It’s not exactly a secret you went to Radcliffe. So did Kensington. It’s a perfect cover and it has the added bonus of being one hundred percent true.”

“If this was your goal all along, why not just say it?”

“Wasn’t it far more fun to debate it? Add to it that you’re far less nervous than you were when I got in the car and I’d say it was well worth the time.”

And there it was.

That simple knowledge that he wasn’t to be underestimated, under any circumstances.

He saw far too much and thought too much.

And most of all, he saw her. From the workings of her mind to her exercise routine, he observed, dissected and analyzed. It was unnerving.

Not to mention more than a little exhilarating.

“So what is this event this evening?”

Abby welcomed the change in topic as the lights of Lincoln Center came into view outside the car windows. “The opera.”

A dawning look of horror covered Campbell’s face. “Any chance I can convince you to turn the car around just throw money at the event instead?”

“I’ve already thrown money at the event. This is the result.”

“So they already got what they wanted. Let’s bail. We can get a few hot dogs at Gray’s Papaya and go to the movies instead.”

“What is wrong with you? It’s a few hours and a few arias. It’s not that big a deal.”

“Who’s this evening’s diva?”

“Carlotta Luchino. Why?”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

* * *

Whatever questions Abby had at his not-so-subtle rejection of the opera vanished in the whirlwind of the evening. The requisite ode to culture only involved about three pieces of music and the swanky after-party kicked into high gear.

Campbell and Abby mingled with the evening’s attendees, drinking post-performance cocktails and dodging requests for additional donations. He kept his hand steady on her back and played the attentive lover as he watched the room for any sign of the suspicious or out of place.

As covers went, he could hardly complain. He was sharing the evening with a beautiful woman. What troubled him was his inability to keep his mind on the task at hand.

Instead, his thoughts filled with her.

Abby, her long legs stretched out in the limo and visible through the thigh-high slit in her dress, so close to the tips of his fingers.

Abby, her lush mouth drawn up into a smile as she talked to the CEO of a key telecom company.

Abby, stripped from the long column of her gold-sequined gown, naked and willing in his arms.

Although he hadn’t technically observed that last one, the image was crystal clear in his mind’s eye all the same.

Conversation swirled around him, voices high and happy in the glow of expensive liquor when his gaze alighted on a man about ten yards away. Although the man stood in a group, his gaze was steady on Abby.

The intrusion was immediate.

“Champagne, sweetie?” Campbell leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek, whispering in her ear, “Who’s the man at your three o’clock?”

Her eyes widened but it was the only evidence she was alarmed. Instead, she shot him a gentle smile and nodded. “Yes, I’d love some.”

Campbell waved a waiter over and used the motion to cover her as she turned to look at the stranger. When the champagne arrived, she gave him a slight head shake as she reached for a fresh glass.

“I think I see an old college buddy. Would you excuse me for a moment?”

The CEO and his wife were well into the champagne and sent him off with jovial smiles as Abby resumed a story about her last analyst meeting. As the husky, cultured tones of her voice faded behind him, Campbell moved around the perimeter of the room, blending with the guests as he assessed the potential threat.

While he knew every man with a pulse had given Abby a once-over since they’d arrived, the man’s continued focus had Campbell’s hackles up.

Which was the only excuse he had for missing the cloud of perfume and the voice accented with the heavy notes of Italy as two long arms snaked around his waist. “Campbell, darling. You’re here yet you don’t come find me.”

A heavy pout pushed Carlotta Luchino’s rich red lips into a tight line before she leaned forward and pressed them to his cheek. “You wound me, darling.”

“Carlotta.” Campbell fought to keep his gaze on his quarry but the opera diva’s hands were too busy with holding his face still.

“I’ve called you.”

“More than once.”

“And now you’ve come to see me. Tonight. Clearly you have just been playing games with me.”

“No games, Carlotta. I promise.” He set his champagne glass onto a small tray with a heavy thud and was grateful the stem didn’t break. With quick moves, he reached for the hands that cupped his neck and face, not surprised at the tight, determined grip.

“Yes, games. Always games with you. You think I didn’t know how you wanted me? How you longed for me?”

Campbell fought the urge to roll his eyes as he tried to shift their bodies. Although he wasn’t a short man by any means, her tall frame was augmented by five-inch designer heels and a dark cloud of hair atop her head. The combination of all three conspired to obscure his vision of the possible threat to Abby.

What couldn’t be obscured was the cool, collected voice that resonated over his shoulder.

“Darling. Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Chapter 3

Abby fought the urge to clench her fists and wondered how she ended up agreeing with Campbell Steele’s harebrained scheme to be fake lovers. What had seemed like a good idea at the time suddenly felt petty and childish in light of the barracuda wrapped around him.

As Campbell worked to remove himself from the diva’s arms, Abby amended the mental reference to octopus. She was also more than a little surprised to feel a spear of jealousy tunneling its way through the center of her heart. Since the emotion was as unwelcome as it was unexpected, she pasted on a smile as she turned toward Campbell and the opera singer.

“Abby. Let me introduce you to the evening’s entertainment, Carlotta Luchino.”

Campbell wasn’t kidding on the entertainment, but Abby forced every ounce of good breeding into her voice as she extended her hand to the singer. “It’s lovely to meet you, Ms. Luchino. Your performance this evening was beautiful.”

The woman preened slightly under the compliment and did release her grip on Campbell as he made quick introductions. Abby could practically see the question on the singer’s expressive face as the woman’s eyes narrowed. “You own McBane Communications?”

When Abby confirmed she was both owner and CEO, the transformation was nearly instantaneous. A broad smile covered the diva’s face and she barely gave Campbell another glance.

Whatever else she was, Carlotta Luchino was a businesswoman and she knew the success of the evening depended on the generosity of its patrons. The hand she’d left on Campbell’s arm fell as she smiled broadly and gestured to the room at large. “You are enjoying the evening, no?”

“Absolutely.”

The lie tripped off her tongue as Campbell’s freedom from the woman’s clutches gave him the opportunity to resume his perusal of the guests. Although she hadn’t paid any attention to her surroundings until Campbell had pointed out the man, it was all she could do to stay still and not go after him herself and find out what he wanted from her.

And why he was watching her.

When Campbell’s scan of the room turned up nothing—evidenced by a slight shake of his head—he reached for her hand. “Carlotta, while it was lovely to see you again, I’m afraid we’re going to need to get going.”

Carlotta sighed, but Abby didn’t miss the narrow-eyed gaze the woman had already bestowed on an aging widower standing at the edge of a nearby conversation circle.

“That was interesting.”

“To say the least.” Campbell tugged on the collar of his shirt and it brought a quick smile to Abby’s face. While she knew it wasn’t all that broad-minded of her, she couldn’t quite shake the small stab of glee that he’d spent those last few minutes with Carlotta as uncomfortable as she.

And then he went still, his discomfort vanishing as if it had never been.

“What is it?”

“Your friend is back.”

Abby fought the urge to turn around and instead, reached for Campbell’s arm and forced an adoring tone into her voice. “Walk me toward the door? I’m in need of some fresh air.”

He clasped his hand over hers where it rested on his forearm and she followed his guidance as they walked through the throng of partygoers. Her heels were high, but she couldn’t quite see over the people milling around and she’d do far better to simply allow Campbell to lead her where they needed to go.

“Do you see him?”

“Yep. He’s near the far side of the theater and heading for the stairs.”

She felt the impatience in his large body and pressed a hand to his lower back. “Go. Don’t let me hold you up.”

“Stay here among all these people. You’ll be a lot safer here.”

“What if this guy’s capable of real harm?”

“An even better reason you should stay. In fact, why don’t you find security and suggest they head for the parking garages. I’m pretty sure that’s where he’s going.”

The urge to argue was strong; the urge to follow him even stronger.

And stay or follow, it was more than a little unnerving to find herself left behind as he took off through the crowd.

She gave herself the briefest moment to watch him depart, his height ensuring she could see his head as he threaded his way through the crowd.

How the heck did I end up with a bodyguard?

The thought gonged long and loud in her mind as she moved in the opposite direction of Campbell and toward a couple of security guards she’d seen earlier.

The bodyguard thought continued to press at her as she navigated the jovial crowd.

She’d hired a computer expert, not a bodyguard. And now Campbell had placed himself in potential danger on her behalf.

She picked up her pace, moving to the perimeter of the crowd to find the guards.

“So here you are.”

A flood of adrenaline rushed her system as Abby looked up into the face of the man who had been pointed out to her. With her only thought the safety she felt in Campbell’s presence, she took off down a nearby well of stairs and her last memories of Campbell’s retreating body.

“Wait!”

The heavy adrenaline rapidly morphed into sheer panic as Abby worked to keep her high heels steady on the stairs. She felt the man boring down behind her and let out a small scream when he reached out to touch her shoulder.

She had to get away.

Had to get to Campbell and safety.

She saw the gray-tinged lights of the parking garage spread out before her, the glass entry doors that separated the performance building from the parking lot propped open at the base.

The thought crossed her mind that Campbell may have changed course, but that fear vanished as she heard him scream her name.

“Abby!”

Scrabbling footsteps echoed behind her as the man pursuing her realized she had backup. He whirled on his heel, the heavy sensation of his body bearing down on hers vanishing immediately.

From her periphery, she saw Campbell change gears, moving from his path to intercept the man who’d followed her.

And then she could only stare as it all happened in a blur of motion.

Campbell’s long strides had him easily reaching the man, who he collared and slammed into the nearest car, all in one coordinated move. He kept the man pinned to the car and a silent thrill rode her as she observed Campbell’s predatory grace.

“What do you want with her?” The mild-mannered man who’d accompanied her to the opera had vanished, and in its place was a man who obviously understood violence.

“Nothing.”

“Wrong answer.” Campbell pressed harder against the man. “What do you want with her?”

“Nothing, man. Nothing.”

“Who are you working for?”

Abby was torn between watching the exchange and running for help. Although Campbell appeared to have the upper hand, she was afraid to leave him alone. The sound of shouts and heavy footfalls ensured she didn’t need to make that decision as two security guards barreled through the glass doors.

“Sir! Stand back.”

The entire scene ran like something out of a bad movie as Abby watched the two men separate Campbell and the stranger, then drag both of them some distance from the cars.

“I’ve got credentials, if you’ll just let me get them from my pockets.” Campbell grit out the words as his gaze stayed locked on the man he’d had pinned.

The guard holding Campbell waited for a nod from his partner before agreeing. “Can she get it for you?”

“Abby?” Campbell’s gaze met hers. “My inside front pocket.”

Tension gripped all of them in tight fists and she made quick work of the job, reaching inside his open tuxedo jacket. As he promised, there was a small leather folder there and she pulled it out and opened it for the guard.

The guard released his grip and she watched, fascinated, as Campbell extended his arms in front of him to keep the man at ease. “You’re in security?”

“Yes.”

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” The guard handed the badge back while his partner kept a firm hold on the other man.

Campbell provided a quick recap of events both during the cocktail hour and what led them into the garage.

“The man followed you, ma’am?”

“Yes.”

The guy screamed that she was a liar, but it was only while he was screaming that Abby truly caught sight of where his gaze had landed.

On the diamond necklace that encircled her throat.

Understanding flooded her in a rush. “You’re a thief.”

“I am not.”

“That’s what this is about.”

The accusation had little effect on the man’s mood, but it was enough to shift the conversation with the guards to their favor as well as the two additional guards who came down after receiving radio calls.

Abby watched in bewildered fascination as Campbell worked the new guards, reconfirming his license and what had happened.

And she was even more shocked and amazed when, after providing their contact information only, they were both given permission to leave.

“How’d you do that?”

“The license helped.” Campbell’s hand returned to her lower back and he led them toward the waiting line of cars. “I also let the guard know you were a highly respected businesswoman under my protection. They’ll follow up with you.”

Campbell waved in the direction of the limo line and she saw a quick flash of lights from their driver. “Come on. Let’s wait for him over here.”

“Do you think they’ll get anything out of him?”

“Where’d you get the idea he was a thief?”

Abby thought back to that brief flash of insight. It wasn’t anything she could fully describe or explain, but she’d known the moment the man’s gaze had settled on her neck that his intentions were about the jewelry.

She’d spent long years reading people and she couldn’t shake the bone-deep certainty that had been his motive.

“There was an avarice in his eyes I can’t quite explain. I’m sure once they run him it’ll become more than obvious he was casing the event to set up a few jobs.”

The car pulled around and their driver hopped out and got them settled. Campbell took his seat opposite her and she sunk against the padded seats, unable to stop the events of the evening from flashing through her mind.

“I’m sure the police will follow up, but I’ll also run that guy through a facial-recognition program. If he’s got any sort of a record, or even a whisper of suspicion around him, he’ll pop.”

“Good.” Abby tried to shake off the lingering feelings of vulnerability that were as unwelcome as they were uncomfortable.

“And just to cover ground I know you’ll be asked again. You’ve never seen him before?”

“No, I haven’t. Which is more than I can say for you and the Sophia Loren wannabe back there.”

Her own words surprised her but they had their desired effect as they shifted Campbell’s focus. His grin was back, whip-quick and more than a little dashing. “You didn’t believe me when I told you I didn’t like opera.”

“I assumed you didn’t care for the music.”

“Among other things,” he muttered as he reached for his bow tie.

Abby held her tongue, the image of those slender arms and luscious curves wrapped around Campbell still haunting her mind’s eye. Not only was the reaction beyond inappropriate—he owed her no explanations—it was damned infuriating to feel like the cuckolded lover.

Even if the lover part was imaginary.

“How about a drink? I want to discuss tonight as well as our plans for tomorrow.”

She flirted briefly with turning down the invitation, but discarded the idea. They didn’t have much time before leaving for Paris and there was still much to go over. Besides, her adrenaline was still so sky-high she knew she was unlikely to fall asleep anytime soon. “Where would you like to go?”

“The Four Winds is on the way to your home. It’s dark, it’s private and it’s a classic with those big wide windows overlooking Central Park. Let’s head there.” After a quick set of instructions to their driver, Campbell dragged the tie from his throat, wrapping it up and dropping it into his suit pocket. A small patch of skin was visible at the open neck of his shirt and Abby felt her temperature spike another few degrees.

Their destination decided, Abby tried to mentally regroup. She had to get a grip on these ridiculous feelings. She and Campbell were going to be spending a lot of time together in close proximity and ogling her newly acquired business associate wasn’t going to help her keep her mind on the game. Already tonight, she’d been more than surprised when he’d pointed out the steady gaze of the tuxedo-clad stranger.

She hadn’t even noticed the man.

“What was your take on this evening?” She saw the bright lights of the Time Warner Center as their driver took the turn at Columbus Circle and she knew they weren’t far from their destination.

“Aside from our criminal du jour, it was a relatively harmless evening. Lots of well-dressed people having stuffy, boring conversations.”

“That’s what you thought about tonight?”

“Sure. Didn’t you?”

A laugh welled up at his frank assessment. “Well, yeah, but aren’t we supposed to pretend we had a good time, drinking in the atmosphere and reveling in the talk of important matters?”

“What for? It was a bunch of privileged people standing around talking about privileged things.”

She couldn’t hold back her curiosity at the entirely unexpected shift in the conversation. “Unless I’m mistaken, that townhome we picked you up at smacks of privilege and wealth.”

He shrugged, the lines of his shoulders stiff and uncomfortable as his gaze drifted toward the window. “It just seems like there’s more to life.”

“Is that why you do this?”

He turned back from the window. “Do what? The business?” When she nodded, he added, “Sure, to a point. It keeps me active and productive and it seems to be working if the profits we’re turning are any indication.”

“Did you ever expect your services would be in such high demand?”

A quick light sparked in Campbell’s eyes and Abby didn’t miss the clear notes of excitement there. “Nothing prepared us for the reaction we’ve had. We knew our parents’ friends had the need for quiet inquiries into certain matters or help managing an enemy bent on destroying them, but we were unprepared for the response we’ve received.”